#its still kinda basic and whatever but it deserves some props

[fruitsofhell]

People shit on Elemental for its race/culture allegory looking even more reductive and rigid than Zootopia's on the service, but I think it actually used it super well. It feels a lot more like a very broad and fable-ish metaphor than the sort of hard world-building with direct racial parallels found in Zootopia. Zootopia aged poorly cause it was so fucking direct in its parallel imagery to real world oppression with the police angle, whereas Elemental is just generally about the experience of being an immigrant. The way it uses the infrastructure of the city being actively built for some and harmful to others is really clever, I adored how they used that.

It also helps greatly that Elemental was written by a POC from the perspective of the marginalized because it helps make the metaphors feel more cohesive. The choice to make Judy the main focus as a perpetrator of the systemic predator oppression that greatly mirrors real world anti-blackness aged like milk to me, it screams white guilt complex. And the fact it spends a lot of time not engaging with forms of prejudice besides the bunny oppression until it gets to that feels very flat. Elemental immedietly explains its main allegory very strongly and from the perspective of those it affects, so there's no fluff or time spent ignoring the issues from the privileged perspective.

Literally the thing that will instantly kill your fantasy oppression metaphor is being white guilty about it or not thinking super hard about what you're paralleling if you're going to be as blunt as Zootopia. Stuff like accidentally giving the oppressed group a reason to be oppressed as you do with the predator-prey dynamic. It's just the biggest fucking red flag and shows little understanding of why these systems exist irl. In Elemental the metaphor obviously uses a lot of imagery to show that the fire people are meant to be east asian-coded, but beyond that its content just being a story about class and immigrant families. About being from different worlds and feeling like they're impossible to combine, because of experiences and backgrounds, which is expressed as being fire and water.

Unlike being a bunny and fox, that imagery is a bit less loaded and can be turned into a sort of mutual harm as it is in the film with Wade being at risk of evaporating as muxh as Ember is at risk of being put out. And, in the end, it's found that water can just bubble a bit as the metaphor for a compromise. Which is fine enough and where the more fable-ish approach to the allegory became clear to me.

It's also used very cutely for their personalities too in a way that comes back to the background divide - Ember being fiery, anxious, and high-strung from pressures of supporting her community, and Wade being all blubbery and emotional but mellower because he lives in a supportive upper-class family. Its just a lot cleverer on a couple of levels than the bumbling between 'predators are black and brown people but also their oppression is bad but also they are dangerous but also its cause of a conspiracy, and also small prey are kinda like white woman and theres intersectionality but its shown horribly'.

Despite Ember's racial coding, no matter how you code Wade's family it doesn't matter because it is simply about - 'you live in a city that has integrated for you, and I don't' - which could apply to an upper-class family of any background, cause it's more of a class thing now. Even if he was black-coded (which Ive seen from fans likely because of his VA, I dont remember if he was in the films text), it still works cause their ARE affluent black families whom by nature of having been here and integrated are in that privileged role over a poorer immigrant family of any other race.

Allegories for class or upbringing usually age better, the systems that create those are a lot more basic and less loaded to parallel on a surface level than racism or misogyny. Not that they CANT go really deep, but it's easier to not come off as blatantly offensive as long as you're not like a eugenicist about it.

[nerdypanda3126]

An Interesting Little Relationship

This was written for the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers Sprint Fic Challenge.

The "rules" are three 15-minute sprints with 24 hours for light editing, which includes new writing to smooth transitions or make it feel complete. Except I broke a few rules on this one... so I used I think six sprints total (lost count a bit 😅) and in between sprints I let myself keep writing until I got stuck. 

This time around I used the prompt: "As if life hasn’t been hard enough lately…you just met your soulmate, and they’re not even human. (Supernatural/monster AU)" 

And @airi-p4​ wrote this minific based on a Julie and the Phantoms AU and it all just kinda clicked in my head. Although fair warning for those of you who know the show, I did take away the ability to handle the instruments to play more with the "can't touch real things"... thing.

Read on Ao3 

The question had been on Marinette’s mind ever since she first met Luka. Which wasn’t too out of the ordinary. For those with visible marks, it was often the first thing people noticed. Marks stood out like wedding bands—jet black for those still waiting, brilliant color for those who’d already found their soulmate, a permanent reminder of the first touch. 

Luka had three black marks like smudges across the backs of his fingers, as if he were destined to brush his knuckles against some stranger’s at some point in his life and discover what everyone hoped to. 

The problem was, Luka’s life was already over. 

He and the band had first shimmered into existence when she found their demo buried along with the rest of their things in the attic and popped it into the dormant CD player. As she’d listened, nodding her head along to the punk rock beat and appreciating the skill of the guitarist, suddenly there they were, three ghosts standing right in front of her.

She’d screamed. They’d screamed. Eventually everyone calmed down enough for Luka to explain that her attic was their old studio and introduce his sister, Juleka, and their drummer, Ivan. And as he gestured to himself, her eyes went straight to those three black marks that she’d been watching ever since.  

She rubbed at her own mark—three black streaks on the side of her neck, just below her ear—as they worked on writing a new song together. Luka was brainstorming aloud, pacing back and forth soundlessly, while she handled the pen. 

Touch was tricky for him. If he focused sometimes, he could pick up small things. He’d managed to grab a pick once and strum it across his guitar in its stand and he’d been giddy about it for days afterward. Sometimes it made her think that maybe it wasn’t all that crazy that her marks seemed to match with his. Maybe it was possible… 

“Hey, you okay, boss?” Luka asked, breaking her out of her thoughts as he took a seat next to her on the old couch and laid his arm casually along the back of her seat. She could almost imagine his weight settling into the spot, although of course he himself was weightless. She frowned at the unburdened upholstery under his thighs as if it had personally offended her. 

“Isn’t it weird?” 

“Isn’t what weird?” 

“You can sit there, and you can pick things up sometimes and you don’t go through the floor or anything, but you can’t touch… other things.” 

As if to prove her point, Luka propped his legs up on the small table she’d brought up, crossing his graffitied high tops across her notebook and smirking. She rolled her eyes and went to shove him off out of habit. Her hand passed right through him, making his feet look like a staticky TV picture for a second before they were back to normal. She frowned at them, too. 

Luka seemed to take her meaning because he moved his feet back down and leaned forward on his elbows instead, tracing lazy patterns on her notebook with his painted fingernail as his eyebrows furrowed in thought beneath his blue-tipped bangs. The paper crinkled under his touch in the quiet between them.

“Yeah, it’s weird,” he finally agreed. 

She kept her eyes focused on those three black marks. For a moment she fantasized about taking his hand and tracing them, but she knew her hand would pass through his like she was trying to hold onto air. “It just doesn’t make sense,” she started again, “if you can’t touch people, why do you still have your marks?” 

He laid his hand flat on the table, then, considering them. She rubbed at hers again self-consciously.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “I guess it’s maybe because I died before I met them. You know, seventeen. I didn’t have much time. Jules still has hers, too.” His eyes flicked to her hand covering her mark. “Why do you ask?” 

“It’s stupid,” she muttered. “I’ve just been wondering if maybe… you know…” 

His eyebrows disappeared behind his bangs as a disbelieving grin spread across his face. She wished she could shove his shoulder or tug his beanie down over his nose or flick the gauges in his ears or do something to him. As it was, she tossed her pen at him, taking what small pleasure she could from it when it passed between his eyes, at least marring that grin for a split second. 

“Shut up,” she said, her face flaming as she turned away. “I told you it was stupid.” 

“What if it wasn’t, though?” he asked. “I mean, you said it yourself, I can touch other things. And who knows how these things really work, right? Maybe it doesn’t have to be a touch, maybe it can be… I don’t know, the intent of a touch, or—” 

“Luka…” His name came out half as a warning and half as a sigh. 

“I’m just saying, maybe we could try. Maybe—”

“It’s not you, Luka,” she said, her tone slipping out with more petulance than she meant it to. Which one of them was she trying to convince, anyways? “It can't be you. You’re—well, let’s face it. You’re a ghost. You're not real. Even if it was you—which it’s not, but if it was—I mean, how would that even work? I can’t touch you, you can’t touch me, and the marks only change when someone touches you for the first time. Everyone knows that’s how this works, and we—” 

She stopped when she caught sight of his face again. Only a moment ago she’d been wishing she could wipe the grin off his face and now that it was actually gone, now that his shoulders were slumping in disappointment and his eyebrows were furrowing again, now she wished she hadn’t brought it up in the first place. 

It hurt more than she thought it would. That maybe he’d thought about it, too, and wanted it as much as she did. 

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, avoiding his eyes. “Forget I said anything.”

She felt it when he poofed away a moment later, like a small bubble had popped leaving the atmosphere a little harder to breathe. She groaned and let her head fall against the table with a heavy thunk, then thunked it again a few more times for good measure. 

***

And he did forget about it. Or at least he didn’t bring it up again over the next few weeks, although she did catch him looking at her marks more often. Usually with the same concentration as when he was trying to write his own lyrics down using the pen he was getting better and better at manipulating. 

It wasn’t until she overheard him and Juleka arguing one night that she realized it was even still on his mind. She didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but Luka’s exasperated tone made her pause before opening the door to the attic. 

“She deserves someone real, Jules. Her real soulmate, whoever the lucky bastard is, and I’ll never be able to give her that. I mean, okay, let’s say I do tell her, and by some miracle she wants to give up waiting for her soulmate and be with me. Our options are basically I stay here, forever stuck at seventeen, and I watch her grow old and…” 

The way he trailed off made Marinette picture him turning that focused gaze of his on his guitar as his jaw tensed, the way he sometimes did when his words failed him. It always made her think he wished he could let the guitar speak for him. 

“I mean, she can never have a family with me, we can’t share our lives together,” he continued bitterly after a moment. “Hell, she can’t even tell anyone I exist because they’ll think she’s insane. Or what if I somehow manage to cross over and she’s left to try to figure out how to move on? It’s just…” For once Marinette actually heard him sit heavily on the couch, the leather whooshing out from under him and the supports creaking under the weight of his emotion. “I don’t see the point in telling her.” 

There was a long pause and Marinette was starting to wonder if Juleka was even still in the room with him, but then she heard a sharp smack and Luka’s annoyed protest. 

“The point,” Juleka shot back with more force in her voice than Marinette was used to hearing, “is that I’m sick of watching you moping around like this. And besides, don’t you think Marinette deserves to know?” 

“Well—” 

“Look, maybe you’re soulmates and maybe you’re not. You may never know, right?” 

“Jules, I don’t think you understand—”

“But you love her, don’t you? Regardless of fate or whatever.” 

“Of course, but—”

“So tell her.” Juleka’s voice was like steel and it made Marinette shiver to think of being on the receiving end of it. 

She waited, breathless, for Luka’s response, but she only heard a small pop as one of them left. Tentatively, she pushed on the door and let it swing open. Luka was still on the couch with his head in his hands and his fingers dug into his hair as he stared at his shoes. He didn’t seem to notice her entrance until she knocked on the doorframe. His head snapped up and his eyes widened, but before she could even say ‘hello’ he popped out of the room, too, leaving her mind spinning and her heart pounding. 

***

He wasn’t avoiding her. If anything, they spent more time together now than… before, but he always managed to make sure someone else was around. Her parents, especially, because he knew she wouldn’t talk to him in front of them, but that didn’t stop him from doing those annoying ghost things that drove her crazy. 

Like pushing her plate to the side just as she was about to take a bite, or turning lights off  randomly and grinning at her when her parents wondered about the fuses, or tucking doodles and notes and lyrics torn out of her own notebook but in his scratchy handwriting into her shoes and her hair bands and her backpack and—why did he have to be so infuriatingly adorable? 

She was running out of reasons to explain why she was blushing and smiling so much nowadays. Especially since her mark was as black as ever. 

***

It took a while, but eventually he slipped up. It was a band meeting. Juleka was missing, which wasn’t surprising; she’d been gone more often than not and anytime they asked where she’d been she’d mutter an excuse and hide, blushing, behind her hair. 

So Ivan was acting as Luka’s buffer, preventing her, as usual, from asking him about what she’d overheard, until Luka mentioned a name, Mylène, and Ivan went quiet before he popped away without another word. 

Luka muttered an apology to the air Ivan had been occupying before he froze and turned those same wide eyes on Marinette. She half-expected him to poof out, but instead he picked up his pen and started twirling it nervously through his long fingers. After what felt like an eternity of silence, she huffed out a breath and dove in. 

“I heard everything, Luka.” 

He nodded, flicking his eyes up briefly before focusing back on the pen. “I know.” 

“So? What happens now?” 

He shrugged and leaned back against the couch, avoiding her eyes. “Your call, boss.” 

He was trying to look indifferent, unaffected, but she could tell by the way his pen was still spinning that he was only trying to distract himself. She rubbed at her marks, considering, then shifted closer to him. If he were actually sitting next to her, her knee would be leaning against his. Instead the boundary between them shimmered like a mist. It gave her a strange sense of warmth mixed with melancholy. She put her hand out on her knee, palm up, offering it to him.

All but his pen had frozen when she moved, but when his eyes flicked down to her hand, the pen slipped out of his focus and clattered to the floor. 

She couldn’t help her small giggle at his astonishment. In a daze, he reached out to hover his hand over hers, his fingers arched so that his fingertips were poised on top of hers, but not quite daring to close the distance. 

When he finally did, both of their shoulders fell when his hand passed entirely through her. 

Luka pulled away with a small, bitter chuckle. She flexed her fingers, wishing that they felt any different. It should feel different. It was only because he wasn’t—no, not that he wasn’t real , because he most certainly was. And she couldn’t even say he wasn’t alive either, because Luka was the most alive person she’d ever known. Or at least that’s how he made her feel. So, then, it was only because they were on two different planes of existence. Two different places. That’s why they couldn’t… 

“This is an interesting little relationship you and I have,” he muttered, but when she looked over he was smiling, flexing his fingers the same way she was. 

She nodded to agree. Interesting. That was a good word for it. 

***

“When did this happen?” Marinette asked as Juleka sheepishly moved her long hair aside to show the bubblegum pink mark across the back of her shoulders. 

Juleka shrugged and hid her eyes behind her hair. “I dunno. A week ago maybe?” 

Marinette shared a glance with Luka. About the same time she started disappearing from band meetings, then. She couldn’t help letting her eyes travel down to Luka’s hand. Juleka found her soulmate in the afterlife. That proved it was possible, right? Or what if Luka was meant to find another ghost like Juleka? What if she was actually the one standing in the way of his happiness? What if—

That strange sense of warmth passed through her and she realized Luka had come over to stand next to her and pass his hand through hers. It was a simple reminder of the other day and she got his message loud and clear. 

I choose this. 

If she could’ve, she would’ve laced her fingers through his and squeezed. Instead, she passed her hand back through his, echoing his message with her own. 

Me, too.

***

The ache to touch him didn’t fade. It was always there, tugging at her heart. But it was nice, what they had. She was getting used to his way of being with her. The way he would sit closer now, letting his shoulder not quite brush against hers. Or the way he would reach for her hand, not seeming bothered when it went through her and instead letting his intent speak for him. 

Maybe it wasn’t how she thought things would go. But it was working for them. 

She was leaning over her notebook with her headphones in, focused on writing something for him when it happened.

She didn’t even know he was there. Usually he’d give her some sort of indication that he’d entered the room. A prickle on the back of her neck or an impression of warmth on her cheek or he’d make some sort of noise as he sat down. Maybe he did and she didn’t notice, but she did notice when her hair was gently pushed aside off her neck and it fell over her shoulder instead. She did notice the lingering sense of a featherlight touch. And not the ghostly touch she was used to. An actual touch. 

She froze and pulled her headphones out and turned to find Luka standing behind her with a look of absolute awe on his face, his eyes locked onto the small expanse of skin he’d managed to bare. He’d managed to touch. 

On the side of her neck, just below her ear.  

“You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he breathed. 

[sarcastically-defensive17]

Coffee - T. Holland

Okay, I know I have requests but this song came on at work the other day and I felt super emotional and I had to write. The use of Tom was very last minute because I had no actual person in mind for the fic, and there are very little actual defining characteristics so you can imagine it to be absolutely anybody you want!

This has broken me, so I apologize in case it has the same affect.

TW: This story contains mentions of cancer, allusions to death, mentions of death, sadness, angst, allusion to suicide, a character with cancer, and all round sadness about death.

If this content may trigger you in any way possible, please do not engage with this fic. Your personal safety and wellness is important so please take care of yourself, my lovies.

Original story by sarcastically-defensive17. Please do not copy, translate or share outside of the boundaries of tumblr without my permission. Please do not steal my work and market it as your own. Basically, don’t be a dick. Also, the above gif does not belong to me. Credit to @thollandgifs

Also, sorry the format is shit. I write on my phone so it’s hella bad.

Don't stay awake for too long, don't go to bed. I'll make a cup of coffee for your head. It'll get you up and going out of bed.

While his life stood still, hers moved. Most days he could barely move without the nausea taking over. His head pounding, body exhausted and weak beyond recognition. She had established a routine the minute she could. She made sure he had his morning coffee everyday. Whenever his eyes opened, she would be right by his side with his favourite beverage, bringing him breakfast and a warm, loving smile to entice him to get out of bed. She understood on days that his body fought him more than it already was - she was compassionate and considerate. On those days she would help him prop himself in a comfortable position, switch on whatever show they were watching at the time and curl up next to him with her work beside her.

His heart was often overwhelmed with the care she provided him. They were well into the fourth year of their life together, and he had no doubt in his mind that he would love her until his last days. He often solemnly thought of the ring he still had hidden in his drawer of their shared cabinet. He had made a vow to pop the question if he ever recovered, but the thought of that day never coming simply tore another piece from his already dwindling soul.

He would often sit in his chair, or on the bed in their small, studio apartment, watching her flutter around the house in a graceful way only she could. He had memorized her every move when she conducted the most mundane activity. The way she poured a glass of water, the way she tapped her fingers against her thigh to the tune of a theme song, the way she always made his coffee to pure perfection - in a way that nobody else had been able to do.

He had so much love for her, that he was terrified of it slipping away at any moment.

Yeah, I don't wanna fall asleep, I don't wanna pass away. I been thinking of our future 'cause I'll never see those days.

He was 24, and she was 25. They had already planned a life together. They had steady jobs, an intense and passionate love, names picked out for future children, dinner at his parents house every Sunday, lunch with her parents every Wednesday.

He just knew that he had done something to deserve such a fate. At first he was angry, terrified of the possibility of his soul leaving this earth, but as time went on, his self-deprivation grew. Apparently it was common for people in his situation. The fear of dying was clouded by a justification that this was meant to be. He had done something terrible in a past life, and karma was giving him the painful ending he deserved... but he despised the thought, because Y/N didn’t deserve to watch her boyfriend meet his end in this way.

He had thought of near every scenario in his life in which he hurt somebody - cheating on his girlfriend in his first year of college, letting Y/N down time after time, only for her to forgive him. The hurt he caused his parents when he was a teenager and full of such hate for the world. But now, all he could do was pray for forgiveness. He had hope that there was some way he could make it out of this, but he was losing hope rapidly.

Even as he sat with his love on their bed, watching re-runs of How I Met Your Mother, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander.

“When I’m gone,” his voice was croaky, his throat dry and scratchy. “Please tell me you will find somebody else.” He fumbled around to grab her hand, winching as he caught her head snapping towards his in his peripheral vision. He couldn’t turn to see the expression on her face. “You’re so young, so full of life. Your life is going to be so beautiful.”

Her hand was pulled from his, and he steeled what was left of his nerves to get ready for whatever tongue lashing she had planned, but instead he felt the bed dip further beside him, her hands framing his sullen face on each side and softly turning his gaze to meet her own.

“Don’t you say things like that, Tom.” He forced his eyes to stare into her own. His eyes seemed as if they were always ready to release tears, and the intensity of the hurt in her own made his pool unconsciously. “There is no somebody else when the other half of my soul is already with me. I don’t need anybody else because you’re not going anywhere.”

Her thumb brushed away the tear that slipped from his chocolate orbs, ignoring the dark circles underneath that made his face seem further sunken than it was.

“You don’t know that,” he sniffed heavily, dropping his eyes down to his lap. His fingers unconsciously toyed with the bracelet she had given him years ago. A soft, black, faux-leather band. An unfit symbol charm dangled close to the strap, reminding him of her favourite line from her favourite book/movie - the perks of being a wallflower. He had gone wuth her when she got the titular floral piece tattooed on her forearm. She was so happy that day. “One day you’re gonna be in a nice house, a ring on your finger, watching your husband dote over your little baby and you will be at peace in the way I know you crave. I just... I know that will never be me, who slips a ring onto your hand, or waits for you at the end of the aisle. I won’t be the one who holds your hand when you meet your baby, or the one who can give you the life you deserve - the one you want.”

His eyes snapped up to meet her own when he heard her breath grow shaky, but the action caused his brain to lose its equilibrium and he had to close his eyes for a moment. He hated doing so. Every time his eyes were shut, it was a moment that he lost of memorizing every line, curve, angle of her body. He opened his eyes again when able, and he was met with her own eyes as red rimmed as his, tears streaming down her beautiful face.

“Don’t you every talk like that, Thomas Stanley. You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to be the one to do all of those things because you’re going to make it and we are going to love each other until the end of our time, together. I’ll fucking Romeo and Juliet this shit if I have to,” her dark joke was met with a wet laugh from them both, before her face melted back into seriousness. “I’m never gonna need another person, Tommy. I have you, and I will have you forever.”

“You make every day a blessing, my love.” He whispered, his lips ghosting over hers as he gathered the strength in his lead arms to pull her into a hug. “You make hell feel like a summers day, and I cherish every moment I have left with you.”

My life was kinda short, but I got so many blessings. Happy you were mine, it sucks that it's all ending

Their days continued on for another three weeks, the same routine of morning coffee and testing the boundaries of his own fatigue. Three weeks without the dreaded conversation arising again, until she woke to find him staring into the ceiling with such an intense and thoughtful gaze. She knew instantly what was on his mind, and she could feel her heart breaking into more little pieces.

“Tommy?” Her melodic tone was soft, snapping him from his nightmarish reprieve. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing honey. Thinking about us... when we were young and full of life,” he snorted into the dark room, Y/N’s soft laugh pushed through her nose and he felt her smile against his neck. “Just, thinking about how sorry I am for all of this. I’m sorry that I’ve turned your life upside down, that we have changed so much.”

He felt weaker. His body was fighting to hold on, and he felt that they both knew that. He was being eaten up from the inside out, but he couldn’t bear to leave. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t leave her alone. He needed her, he loved her. He wanted to be her husband and give her everything she wanted in life. He wanted to live, for her.

“I would change everything if it meant I could be here with you,” her voice was heavy, riddled with sleep. Neither of them get much rest anymore. He is always up and down, and she frets too much to sleep through his late night jolts and retches. “You’re worth every minute of every day, Tom. You have nothing to apologize for. It’s not like you chose to have Can-“

“Don’t say it, baby, please?” He pled, silencing her before she could say the word. He hadn’t once uttered it since the day he found out. She had relayed the information to their families, holding his hand the entire time as he sat motionless. “Makes it more real than my emo ramblings.” His laugh was humorless, but he didn’t intend it to be so.

She apologised softly, snuggling closer to him. She knew how much he loved the feel of her body on his, how the intimacy of the comfort made him feel warm. Back when he could handle the weight, she would sometimes wake up curled on top of his chest because he had sought her out in his sleep.

“I would do anything for you, Tommy. I would give up everything I have just to see you smile. You’re the other half of my soul, my infinity.”

He felt a tear slip down his cheek. Her words always had that affect on him, but he loved the way she could send his heart beating with no effort. He loved her. So intensely.

“Sing to me, please?” A request he had let loose so many times before. He adored her voice, and the soft melodies that fell from her lips and lulled him to sleep.

She obliged with a smile on her face, and let the words tumble into his pale skin.

“If I could save time in a bottle, the first thing that I’d like to do...”

Soon you'll be alone, sorry that you have to lose me

Two more months passed. His doctors were satisfied, stating that he was slowly improving. His body was beginning to regain strength. He had begun to grow more hopeful, slowly but surely.

Until there was no chance for hope left.

Y/N made his morning coffee, but when she went to rest it on his bedside, he could barely breathe.

Her fingers dialed emergency services faster than she thought possible, her voice cracking as she sung to him over and over, hands cradling his head in her lap as he whispered his love for her.

The coffee went cold as the red and blue lights approached.

Don't stay awake for too long, don't go to bed. I'll make a cup of coffee for your head. It'll get you up and going out of bed

Tag list: @starshonerose @snookiebrookie @another-lonely-heart @mantlereid

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[amethystpath-writes]

Okay so this isn’t my original idea but remember that one post where it was like one soulmate is killing their other soulmate to stay immortal but their soulmate keeps on being reborn or just doesn’t stay dead for long??

If that’s too confusing basically can you do a continuation of your own prompt there the villain is the immortal, not the hero. (Prompt 41?44? I don’t remember oops)

I don't think I know that post, but if you still want me to write it and you can find it, feel free to send another ask! For now, I'll just fill the prompt!

******

“But- but I killed you.” Hero swore he couldn’t breathe. Villain wasn’t supposed to be in front of him right now. He- he was supposed to be in the morgue or wherever they kept and processed dead bodies. He was supposed to be dead. This had to be some kind of trick. Maybe there was a part of Hero’s mind that felt guilty for killing Villain, and now he was hallucinating. “I watched you die. I- I checked your pulse. You’re dead.”

Villain huffed and rolled his eyes. “Why is this always such a surprise to everyone?” He took two steps forward, watching with boredom as Hero flinched back, shielding his eyes. “You need me to pinch you? Convince you I’m right in front of you?”

“Not real,” Hero muttered. “Not real, not real, not. real. It’s in my head. It’s just in my head.”

Tossing his head back, Villain sighed. “Most of your little crew in the past at least tried to swing at me, finish the job. Some of them actually achieved killing me for a second time. I was impressed! Much more exciting than what you’re doing right now.” Hero kept muttering. Villain asked, “You really think you’re imagining me still? What’s it gonna take? Do I need to jab you in the gut? Would that help?”

Maybe I’d deserve that, Hero thought, continuing to consider the concept of guilt. What Hero was really curious about right now was, How is this so real? He acknowledged it was all fake, but he didn’t think his brain was capable of creating such a realistic version of Villain. The look, the voice, the condescending tone, everything was drawn up to a T. It shouldn’t have been possible, especially after a whole week of Villain’s death.

“Alright, this is getting old. I want to try something new since I haven’t had this reaction before. You really shouldn’t be a hero if you go into shock this easily.”

The image in front of Hero was moving closer. Villain was pulling something out from behind him. Hero already knew what it would be; Villain always kept handheld weapons back there in case his powers- whatever those were, Hero never knew- were unsuccessful. Usually it was throwing knives. This time it- Hero swallowed.

“You remember this. Good.” Villain nodded. “I figured you would, given how you stabbed me with it- rude.”

Now Hero had the sense to stand from his seated and shaking position. As a change, he was now in a standing and shaking position. This was becoming real to him- too real.

“Okay. What I’m thinking is that I clean this blade- a very pretty one by the way; love the chromatic look…I’m going to go over to that sink, and I’m going to clean this.” Villain made his way to Hero’s kitchen, turning on the sink like he said he would. He began scrubbing with the pad of his thumb. “I have two reasons for this: one, there are other victims’ blood on it now- from the morgue; they were about to cremate me if you can believe it. Props to you; that was my first time ever being in one of those places. And, two, because I want this to play out for you as it did for me- it was clean before you stabbed me with it; it should be clean before I stab you with it.” Villain turned with the blade now clear of any blood.

Hero couldn’t move, but he didn’t need to, did he? Because this was all his imagination, all his guilty conscious. Nothing else.

“You aren’t going to do anything to protect yourself,” Villain observed aloud. “You’re just going to stand there shaking like a rotting leaf stuck in a tree during October. Fine, then. Might as well take this to my advantage.”

**

Unable to move or think for himself, Hero was easily taken by Villain. All the while, Hero continued to believe this was a hallucination. Villain absolutely could not be alive because that meant- that meant he could…No. Villain can’t- can’t come back to life.

Hero knew for a fact he killed Villain. When he bled out, Hero listened to the silence of his opponent’s chest, watched its stillness. He. Was. Dead. It was that solidity in Hero’s mind that made him deny the obvious fact in front of him. Because it was impossible to become…undead. It just wasn’t possible. And since it was impossible, the person standing in front of Hero, talking to someone or something else in the room was fake- was a ghost in Hero’s head.

“-tired of this game. It’s becoming boring, but I found some entertainment for myself, and I think it can become a lesson to you. See…”

A red light was in front of Hero’s face. He looked, blinking slowly, beyond the red light to Villain. Hero didn’t quite understand where he was, or what his mind was conjuring up at the moment. He felt so tired because of his current insanity, and so it didn’t matter much what his location was.

“I think this can serve as a lesson to you- not that I care to help you, but it gives me an excuse to torture a poor soul.”

Hero blinked again. The red light belonged to a camera, he realized. Villain- or Ghost Villain- was recording him and talking to whoever was watching on the camera. In all reality, Hero figured it was he who was recording himself. Maybe he was even talking- he didn’t know. He was likely telling his base leader about how he was losing his mind and thought he was in a cellar-like room with Villain.

“I’m going to screw this back on the tripod, and then, I’ll show you what happens when you guys keep sending your men to kill me. It doesn’t work, alright? And I’m tired of dying.”

The chromatic knife was lowered in front of Hero’s eyes. He didn’t startle at it, but, as it was lowered out of his vision and Villain’s amused grin replaced it, he felt worry. Worry turned to searing pain in Hero’s leg and he let out a blood-curdling scream, grasping at the cold ground, fingers curling into fists that grasped onto nothing. The same pain magnified again as the knife came into sight once again- this time half coloured with red.

It’s real, it dawned on Hero as he finally looked down to find a hole in his leg. “A-augh!” It was throbbing and he swore he could feel his blood pulsing out of the wound. His stomach twisted with his pain and he turned to his right as to not throw up on himself.

What made the pain in Hero’s leg worse was the fact that his muscles were clenched. He couldn’t relax them no matter how hard he tried and that only meant the throb was everlasting.

The knife made its strike again- this time down the arm opposite of Hero’s now-injured leg. He hollered again, writhing and crying in anguish. “Stop! Stop it!” Quieter, he repeated to himself, “It hurts. It hurts, it hurts.”

For once his body protested as he eyed Villain in front of him. His good leg twitched like it was ready to assist in springing on and tackling Villain to the ground. But the controlled side of Hero’s mind told him it’d only make him hurt worse. Not to mention, he might land on the blade and therefore kill himself. Wait. “You’re- you’re going t-to kill…kill me.”

Villain paused, tilting his head almost curiously at Hero. “That was the plan originally, but then you fell to cowardice, and that was boring.” As he spoke, Hero could feel his limbs jumping, spasming. “So, now we’re doing something else. Kinda like it, actually. Centuries have gone by, and I never actually took my time with any of you. For once, I am seeing the true and utter fear I felt when I died for my first time.” Villain continued, “I could have been such a great person, you know? I would have been a perfect good guy, unable to die and all. But instead of seeing that vision, I was seen as a threat to humanity. They began hunting me, trying to figure out how to put me down for good. I decided to fit their little role, though.”

What Villain did and said next shocked Hero. “Go on, try it.” Villain held the blade handle out to Hero on the ground. “Take it. I’ll let you kill me again, and then you can leave.”

“You’re lying. That’s- that’s a stupid th-thing to- to offer. Why would you l-let me kuh-kill you, then let- let me go?”

Villain shrugged. “Something new. I want to live something different this time. I told you many times that few have killed me twice- and the ones who did it were killed as soon as I could find them. I want to see how far you can go if I give you a month’s head start.”

“You- you want to hunt me.”

“I do. Seeing as you did it to me, I think it’s fair.” He jutted the handle out to Hero again as an offer. When Hero took it, Villain said, “I know I took out your dominant arm out, but- well, I have confidence you’ll do just fine if it means you get to kill me again.” Villain tapped at his chest, right where his heart was located. “Go on. I know you want to.”

Hero considered this for a moment, staring at the knife- at the knife with his blood on it now instead of Villain’s. Did he ever question why his organization was going after Villain? Not really. He just knew Villain murdered every single man Leader sent out. Maybe it was self-defence, in which case Hero shouldn’t have been going after Villain like he was, shouldn’t have killed him like he already did once and was being given the opportunity to once again.

But now was different. Now, Villain really was sadistic- assuming he wasn’t before. Villain, if he was any sort of a healthy and sane man, would have had Hero jailed for trying, and succeeding, in killing him. Or, if he was afraid of the authorities taking him in for being- ahem- unkillable, then he would have only kept Hero locked up. Villain wouldn’t have had Hero in a cellar room, stabbing and slashing at him while a camera recorded it all. If Villain ever was good, that morality was stripped from him now, and that meant Hero needed to take this chance at life. Maybe he could go back to his base and demand answers. Because based off what Villain told, they knew he was immortal, and they never told Hero- or Hero’s previous teammates, who were now ‘mysteriously’ dead.

Without another word, or even a warning glance, Hero weighed the knife in his left hand, gripped the handle, and slashed at Villain’s throat. As he laid dying, Hero searched for the key on Villain’s person, and left.

[codylabs]

My Top 10 Ships

I’m not a very romantic sort of guy, I’m not real forgiving to departures from canon, I get easily annoyed at inconsistencies, and I don’t watch much television and movies, so in order for me to ship something, it has to be a GOOD ship. I default toward rejecting ships, so to impress ME, it must be built on logic, and evidence, it’s gotta be something I can suspend my disbelief far enough to accept. And it’s gotta have story behind it, something deep, some hefty emotional weight; if it doesn’t tickle this man’s cold reptilian heart with strong beats and excellent writing, it goes straight to the trash. I absoLUTELY will not stand for any of these weird little cute, pretty, pandering, trashy crack ships that everybody seems to be clumsily throwing characters into. Most ships are trash ships. They are not good ships.

You think your ship is good? You like your ship?

You ship it?

No you don’t.

Get out of here.

You will listen to me. I will tell you. Look at me. I’m the Captain now.

Here are the 10 good ships.

10. The Rocinante, The Expanse

A resoundingly excellent ship. Unlike most ships you see out there, this thing was actually designed with realistic space combat in mind. It’s got 6 computer-controlled gatling turrets covering every angle, it accelerates in whatever direction it’s pointing, its bridge is right in the center to put as much armor as possible between enemies and crew, overall a much better-designed vehicle than most everything you see about.

That being said, I didn’t have much connection to this ship. Its crew weren’t really interesting, the aesthetic was kinda bleak, and I basically stopped watching after the phazon showed up. And the Rocinante itself has pretty poor redundancy. Enemy bullets can literally just pass through it (as is realistic for a ship this size) so how about multiple main engines huh? Absolutely tragic oversight. And its interior looks too much like an Apple product. How are you supposed to work on it? Where are the wires and pipes??? The handholds?????

9. Ares IV M.A.V., The Martian

Almost more of a symbol than a ship. A symbol of freedom, of escape. A beautiful symbol. This is what Mark Watney spends the whole movie trying to reach, with an entire world backing him up, and an entire world trying to stop him. It’s the goal of the movie, and it just looks so beautiful when he finally reaches it and sees it sitting there in the middle of the desert, ass down, nose up; a tall, proud symbol. This ship has a special significance for me because the author of the original book really did his research on the scientific requirements and details of a Mars Ascent Vehicle, and it was actually inspired by the E.R.V. in another book, ‘A Case For Mars’, which I read when I was younger. “Makes its own methane-oxygen fuel on-site by using nuclear power to break down CO2 in the atmosphere and combining it with stored hydrogen, don’t you know.” I say as I adjust my spectacles and puff my pipe.

The M.A.V. in the movie does have a few issues, such as hallway and rooms running straight up through where the fuel tanks ought to be (instead of a lift/ladder on the exterior) and a rugged, industrial aesthetic that looks too heavy and cumbersome for a ship of its type. (And you’re seriously telling me he couldn’t have used the capsule’s RCS to literally bypass the movie’s entire climax? WHY NOT? The book never mentioned him having to drain the monopropellant!!!) But I’ll let that slide. Great movie.

8. Biggest Boy, The Greatship

(I don’t know the ship name so I had to make up a name. You know what, I think it’s actually just called the Greatship.)

So it’s a starship the size of Jupiter, empty, unmanned, perfectly mysterious, that comes gliding into the galaxy a couple million years into humanity’s future. Where did it come from? Who made it and how? Good questions. It’s powered by matter-antimatter annihilation reactions from within planet-sized internal tanks, and its engines use hydrogen and fusion exhaust as reaction mass, and its hull is made of hyperfiber, a super-strong fictional material with a 4-dimensional lattice structure, able to weather impacts by spreading them out over various dimensions where the impact occurred in a different place.

I hope that after the first few entries, you didn’t get the impression that I am somehow against futuristic, far-out, impossible technologies. Quite the opposite! I love me some hyperdrive and anti-gravity and A.I. and stuff. However! Ships must be well-designed for the technology available, and must take no creative liberties except those explicitly allowed by the difference in the setting. The laws of physics don’t disappear when the magic crystals come out, the magic crystals are merely a different tool to combat them. Engineering will always exist, should start with the tools and work outward, form follows function. Star Wars ships, for instance, are trash because they don’t mount their repulsorlift arrays consistently, they’re not aerodynamic, and their engines aren’t aligned around their center of masses.

So I like the Great Ship. Although the story is pretty far-fetched, and a lot of crazy, out-there scifi events transpire deep in the ship’s depths, the book always strictly kept its own rules in mind, and never broke those rules, no matter how outlandishly crazy things got. Thanks for comprehending something so incomprehensible, Robert Reed. You inspired me miles in my own work.

7. The Ghost, The Sea Wolf

The story may be fiction, but the Ghost was as real as ghosts can be.

Jack London did his research. No, not research, he LIVED this. The Ghost is a seal-hunting schooner much like one that he served aboard during his rollercoaster of a life, and he captured every detail of its operation, of its requirements, of its mechanics, and of the incredible toll it took on the people that lived such a life. The boat is made to feel as oppressive and claustrophobic as a prison, as if it were an extension of the monster that commanded it, directly in contrast to the expansive beauty of the sea around them. My goodness, what a beautiful book. What a moving, interesting, challenging book, with such a story! This book is one of the climaxes of fiction, and one of the inspirations for Shifting Sands, if I remember correctly. I would recommend this book to anybody. Beautiful.

6. Ferbnessa, Phineas and Ferb

Okay, so I hope we can all agree that Vanessa is nothing but bad news. But that being said, Ferb knows exactly the relationship he wants, and by golly, he goes for it. Most male characters would stutter or get nervous or lose confidence around their crush, especially if that crush is about a hundred miles out of their league or if they already had another boyfriend, but Ferb? No. Not my man Ferb. He’s slighly too much of a legend to fall for such childish pitfalls. He doesn’t posture, he doesn’t creep or flirt or try to sabotage the other men in her life, he doesn’t even speak a word, he just maintains his blank expression, cranks his own already-inhuman levels of confidence and competence up through the roof to borderline olympian levels, and continues being himself. These rare moments of Ferbly passion are some of the few open windows we get into the grandiose machinations of his mysterious mind, and he uses it to bring out the best in Vanessa as well. And in the future episode, set years down the line, wouldn’t you know it, they’re a pair.

All joking aside though, this whole ship is basically comedy. It’s a super small part of the show, it’s only in like 5 episodes, it’s a running gag, it’s hilarious. It’s great. And it fits right into the tone and the feel of the show, because P&F’s entire world really is a comedy about going for it and living your dreams. So this is just the best thing ever. It’s been about a decade since then, and I still burst out laughing at how much of a pristine picture of ideal masculinity Ferb is. Become like Ferb, boys, and you will become men.

Legendary.

Eat your heart out, Dipper.

3. Shunk, Voltron

(I don’t know the ship name so I had to make up a name)

Huge props to the voltron team for making a female alien character (even a romantic interest) with NO BOOBS. Do you have ANY idea how sick and tired I am of artists throwing a big ol’ pair of balonkadongs onto lobsters and snakes when almost everything in the real world besides folks and cows have either 0 or 8+ of them? Everything’s gotta be traditionally sexy and recognizably-feminine and GREAT now you just canonized all the porn! Disgusteg

but now look at Shay. She’s a rock person. She’s got silicon-based biology, she probably weighs 500 lbs and bleeds sand. She’s got enormous hands and weird knees and no nose and lumps everywhere, AND YET STILL the show plays all the tropes 100% straight with her being a fair young maiden and a sweet princess. And it works because Hunk is just this great guy who’s exactly as sweet and caring, and he’s not the most attractive of the Paladins either, so he probably lives his life looking past appearances. He doesn’t care that she’s an alien rock, he cares about her as a person, and she obviously worships him right back. Even though Shay is shown in season 1 and then never again until season 7, Hunk still avoids alternative romantic entanglements, citing ‘a rock I know’, and it just adds to his persona as this infinitely loyal teddy bear. I tip my hat to this, the single ship I know that’s 0% sexy and 100% wholesome.

And Hunk is the best Paladin. He’s just the greatest. I revere him. I salute him as he walks past. This man among men. Look at this guy. I don’t even care about any of the other ships in Voltron (I mean, the Castle of Lions is okay, but it’s outriggers are kinda spindly) but Hunk and Shay deserve each other.

4. Wendip, Gravity Falls

So Dipper’s 12/13, and Wendy’s 15. That’s a pretty giant age difference. Maybe you fans have fooled yourselves into thinking it’s not, but it is. She knows it. He knows it. His sister knows it. Your mom knows it. So halfway through the show, when he finally got around to confessing his feelings to her, she told him no. Sure they’re still friends, sure they like each other, and sure they have a lot of chemistry and they still have a movie night every Friday, but at the end of the day, he’s a smelly little midget who has to go back to California at the end of the Summer, and she’s a older girl with approximately zero romantic feelings for him. So the notion that it could work out is pretty obvious to everyone, and especially to him, pretty much hopeless. And he really did handle it all pretty poorly and immaturely too, he objectified her and stalked her and simped up a storm and sabotaged her boyfriend, so perhaps he deserved what he got. Perhaps it’s better this way.

And yet.

And yet Wendy never really got a happy ending in the show. And Dipper never got a conclusive romance either. So after everything, it’s easy to think about it how he thinks about it, by wondering how things could have been, if everything were just so slightly different, if she’d said yes or if they united again. She wishes she could be younger, he wishes he could be older. She’s more dominant, he’s more recessive. She has a lot of serious issues in her life, and could really seriously use a driven, heroic, intelligent friend to help her out, give her purpose, and steer her right. And Lord knows he could use somebody with street smarts and actual muscles to have his back now and again. They complement each other perfectly. They make up for each others’ weaknesses. They’re everything they ever wanted from another, and if you do the math, their children would be actual literal supersoldiers.

Or at least that’s the way a lot of people see it. There’s been immeasurable mountains of fanfiction and fanart from people who are just so sad that in a show full of happy endings and dreams coming true and old regrets being resolved and children growing up, that one ending would never be happy, one dream would never come to pass, one regret would stick with you forever, one child would never grow up. Maybe if you extrapolate out the story they’d end up together? Or maybe they’d find other, better partners? Maybe romance isn’t all that important in the grand scheme of things, and this is the best ending there could have been? Perhaps, perhaps not. But in any case, there’s a lot of very rich storytelling potential for the untold journey before them, and for the paths that could have been.

Stop drawing fetish art of Wendy, you insufferable heathen actual donkeys.

3. Kataang, Avatar: The Last Airbender

Now HERE’S a serious relationship. Not just a romantic ship, (though it is that,) not just some cutesy, funny thing or some ship-war fodder, (though it is cute and funny and did spawn a ship-war,) not just a matter of certainty and destiny, (though it is certain and was destined,) this is a real, TANGIBLE relationship, that these characters built together over a solid year of on-screen adventuring and fighting. They’ve helped each other through trauma, they’ve been there for each other in their darkest moments, they learned martial-arts together, they’ve fought back-to back against grown men, they’ve worked front-to-front sawing through steel girders, they’ve saved each other’s lives, he once ACTUALLY DIED and she brought him BACK. They end up respecting each other, and valuing each other in the intimate way that only true friends do.

And they’re shown working through all their imperfections and mistakes too. Aang sometimes oversteps boundaries and says stupid stuff because he’s a kid, and Katara sometimes scolds him and controls him because she’s motherly and orderly, they get jealous of each other, but none of those things drive them apart, and they deal with them, and they conquer them, and they keep a very legitimate and multi-faceted friendship going, and that’s the key to it all. The fact that this friendship becomes romance is just proof that it was a friendship of quality.

I think people tend to overlook or forget this ship because the last few episodes of the show found them in a pretty dark place, needing to deal with matters of life and death and justice in very different ways, and unlike all their other issues, we don’t really get to see them reconciling these differences before the story ends, which kind of leaves a sour taste between them. And Katara goes on a couple missions with Zuko around the same time, so now half of all people want Zutara, when in actuality, Zutara is a trash ship, which is a true science fact.

2. Serenity, Firefly

Only reason this ship isn’t #1 is because it isn’t constructed using a proper aerospace philosophy; it’s made of bulky machinery and steel beams and chunky plates, it looks more like an ocean vessel from the inside, and is WAY too big for its 6-12 person crew and light cargo capacity. Plus it doesn’t have any room for fuel and its got no wheels on its landing legs and no downward-facing windows and its reactor is just too dang SMOL and its engines are attached too flimsily. This all wouldn’t be too much of an issue if they were going for a far-future aesthetic, but if you’re trying to do something grounded and semi-contemporary, you need to lose some weight girl, I’m sorry.

But by gosh does it make up for it in heart. The entire inside of this ship was mapped out and made on set, with so many homely little decorations and touches to make every room feel like the person who inhabits it, sterile professional blue for the doc’s medbay, warm happy red for Kaylee’s engine room, all-serious-business-but-also-plastic-dinos for Wash’s cockpit... It hit me hard when this baby it crashed in the movie, and it felt almost real when River pretended to mind-meld with it. This ship has more soul in one buffer panel than most shows have in the entire cast, enough to make it seem like its own character, even in a show crowded with charming characters. I love this ship intimately, even if I would have built it differently.

1. Colonial Vessel 46.18′\, Gravity Falls

(I don’t know the ship name so I had to make up a name)

You didn’t think I’d leave out this one, did you? After all the fanfiction I’ve written? This is basically my ship at this point. Anyway, enough about me; the vessel beneath Crash Site Omega really is the quintessential alien ship; its perfectly cliche flying-saucer design taps into all the audience’s pre-existing fanciful notions and imaginings and disbelief-suspension, meanwhile its presentation isn’t cliche or fanciful in the slightest. 

There’s not much to say about it from a technical standpoint, besides personal musings: it would need anti-gravity to stay airborne without thrusters, it would need a FTL drive to cross the distances it did, its drones would need to be made of some kind of semi-liquid to move like they do... But these sort of out-of-the-box, never-before-seen, world-expanding brain-knocks are exactly what makes this ship special. It’s an alien ship, built with technology unknown to people, forged from materials that people don’t possess, and inhabited by beings we will never meet. For all we know, this ship could be perfectly sound from an engineering standpoint, and no engineer in the audience could claim to prove it otherwise, because unlike something like the T.A.R.D.I.S., they never try and fail to explain it away with science buzzwords or canonize its details or show off some fancy glowy reactor. This ancient husk is left as a yawning pit in reason, and that’s beautiful.

Moreover, this ship is an amazingly powerful narrative tool, and a mind-blowing surprise to drop in as a setpiece during the show’s final episodes. This ship embodies everything that made the show’s mysteries special: the evidence presented so early and so consistently, the creativity in creature design, action, and worldbuilding, the yawning depths of unknowable lore, and most of all the burning, unquenched desire to know more... The imprint this ship made in the cliffs over the town has been hanging over the characters’ heads the entire series, and its hull was below their feet from day one, so when they finally revealed it, and explored it, it felt invigorating. Rewarding. This ship, and the glorious feelings and thoughts it represents, have inspired to no end, and haven’t ended yet.

Honorable mentions:

Westley and Buttercup, The Princess Bride

Ooooh man I tell you what, it was really hard trimming this down to 10 for the list, and this one just barely didn’t make the cut, and that mainly because I have a sweet spot for animation and for warrior women, and this sweetness ain’t animated, and this damsel is as distressed as they get. And they don’t have a whole lot of chemistry? I don’t know how to measure that, but I feel like there was a lot of friendship stated that was never shown? Is it sacrilege to say that about True Love? I guess I’ve never exactly had True Love, so what do I know?

The entire plot centers around his devotion to her, and her love for him, and the lengths they go to for one another. He studies fencing and wrestling and wits and tactics for years on a pirate ship as he tried to return to her, and she refused the advances and the offers of an actual prince for as long as she could, even though she thought him dead, and was ready to kill herself when she knew him to be alive and not to be hers. And just such excellent action and characters and humor and story in the entire book surrounding it. Possibly an even better movie, somehow. Happy happy happy happy. They don’t make movies like this no more, why is that? Sad.

Endurance, Interstellar

Actually a pretty realistic design, all considering. They nailed the aesthetic, and the cinematography, and the feel.

It does lose points though, firstly because the shuttlecraft require a booster stage to make it into orbit when leaving Earth, but for the rest of the movie, whenever they’re landing on planets with similar gravity and atmosphere, they can just fly away like it’s no big deal, which is a big inconsistency, both with real life, and more importantly with itself. And how did an under-equipped and struggling space program put this thing in orbit in the first place, anyway? And why don’t their ships land on their asses like proper rockets? And why not tell the crew members the full plan before leaving? See, it’s little things like that, little inconsistencies made for the sake of fitting with story beats and simplifying it for the audience’s sake, that sours this ship for me. I don’t mind creative liberties, but actual plot holes? This thing has a few plot holes, and plot holes are absolutely yucky. So although most of this ship is very yummy, the yucky parts make it all yucky.

Yucky.

Plus its heavy cargo shuttles are about the least-aerodynamic things imaginable, and that’s also yucky, and there’s porcelain tiles in the stasis bay, like what?

Couldashouldawoulda been yummy.

The Hermes, The Martian

This ship. This friggin’ ship.

A beautiful ship. A well-conceived ship. A mathematically sound and engineered ship. It had so many many good ideas behind it. So much math went into calculating its thrust and orbital dynamics for this movie, so much work went into making it fit a contemporary space aesthetic, the panels, the heat sinks, the tanks, so much PRESENTATION I could KISS IT HMWA, but taken as a whole, engineering-wise, the whole ship falls flat on its face, because it just doesn’t fit together. It doesn’t make sense. Look at all those countless modules along its length. What do they do? They don’t do anything! It’s a quarter mile long, and it’s built for only 6 people? It’s meant to carry a lander? Where does the lander dock? Why are the useful airlocks so far off the center of gravity? Why does it have a cockpit? Why is the forward airlock so looooong? Why is the entire ship so loooooong? Why is the ring spinning so slowly? It’s not hard math to figure out how fast it needs to spin! You’re telling me you did ORBITAL DYNAMICS but not the SINGLE physics 101 equation needed to figure out how fast the ring needs to spin??

Btw, let’s talk about that rotating section in the middle! Think about the rotating section! That rotating section means that the front and the back of the ship aren’t actually connected! There’s just a pair of ring-shaped slip-slidey bearings bridging the ship’s middle, slip-slidey bearings that electricity, computer signals, and water and air pipes can’t cross. Why did they design it that way?? In the book the entire ship spun, which makes so much more sense! Why does it have solar panels when it has a reactor canonically capable of 40 times their output? Why are the fuel tanks so small? Why is it always facing prograde even when canonically burning retrograde? Why? WHY? BLRRRRGGGGGRGGGRGGG

In Conclusion, Ships Are Neat

[weareallfallengods]

Chapter 1, continued

This thing tossed us like a couple of rag dolls thrown from a child’s stroller being kicked by a football player. Or at least it started to go that way. Somehow, as the bike ground across the pavement, with just my left hand managing to keep any kind of hold on the bike, I managed to swing myself around it like a gymnast on a gold-medal winning vault-horse routine, snagged Grace’s bar apron with my free hand, and with sheer desperate strength, yank all three back together, right as the beast’s slavering maw snapped shut on empty air where Grace’s head had been just milliseconds before. Through pure accident of positioning, my toes raked across it’s eyes as my leg swung around and I slammed them back down on the pegs, jammed the throttle all the way open, even as Grace somehow managed to complete the circle I’d pulled her in, ending by straddling my hips, arms and hair akimbo while we slid sideways, fortunately tires first. 

Grace’s eyes were wider than a kid who opened their eyes to Disneyland on a Christmas morning as she slammed into me, and I used our momentum to get the bike fully upright, only barely escaping a second snap from the beast as it lunged again, trying to tear us apart. 

That near miss, and the sigh of relief I almost let happen, didn’t get a chance to last long. 

Her damn hair was in my face, which at any other time, wouldn’t have been a problem, really, but just at that second, was incredibly, blindingly, distracting. And it might have saved our lives. 

Something hot burned into my shoulder and face as the sound of crashing metal and people yelling slammed into me. Hm, spicy.

“Shit! Watch out! Sorry!” Grace called to the one lady who wasn’t running for the hills as we smashed through her food cart. Can you get third-degree barbecue sauce burns? Food trays, sauces and meat all went flying as we dervished our way right through the middle of her street-side restaurant, sweet and spicy and sticky all at once, all over the ground, and all over me and Grace as well. I couldn’t think of anything more than just keeping everything together and moving forward. Run. The only thought occupying my mind. Just run.

“Hey.”

The softness of her voice is what brought me back to the girl squished up against me and out of the rabbit-instinct flight mode I was in. 

I don’t know why but for some reason, my brain decided that was the perfect moment to notice that I’d never realized how captivating the color brown could be. Grace’s eyes were less than inches from mine, and I froze for a second. Again. 

“I think it’s stopped.”

I glanced back. The beast had been right on top of us when we hit the food cart, but now it was standing there in the middle of the sidewalk, sniffing around for all the world like the biggest, dumbest, glowiest dog you’ve ever seen. OK, a dog that could tear a truck apart like a box of tissues, but still. 

“What the hell is it doing?” 

“Maybe it’s hungry.”

I didn’t realize I’d said that out loud. I’d never seen one of these things just...stop like that. It didn't make sense. 

No time to think of that right now, just enough time to dart down another alley, blocking the beast from view as it sat down to lap up all the spilled barbecued beef at its feet. 

As we weaved and darted through alleys and parking lots, squeezing through sidewalks and darting across small streets, I started to recognize where we were now, and had the barest inkling of a plan besides ‘get away without dying.’

“Whatever that thing is, I think it likes barbecue.”   

Grace’s whispered comment snapped me back to what was right in front of me, the whole reason I was in this kind of mess again in the first place. . 

“Hunh?”

“I think it stopped to eat at the barbecue stand we knocked over. It’s not chasing us anymore- look.”

I tried to check the mirror again, only to find they’d both been ripped off by now, so switched to glancing over my shoulder quickly, and saw no ominous glow behind us, other than the few street lamps on the small boulevard we were going down. 

“Barbecue?” I was still pretty confused. Probably drunk too. But definitely confused. 

Grace’s laugh was carried away on the night like fireworks swept away in a light breeze. “Well, I dunno what the hell that thing was, but I haven’t met anyone yet who wouldn’t drop everything for good barbecue, honey.”

Raising an eyebrow, I laughed, “Well it’s good to see I’m not the only one here who can make wildly ridiculous comments with horrible timing!”

“Funny the things you think about when you should be focusing on other stuff that’s a little more important, hunh? Like right now, all I can think about is a nice rack of ribs.” Grace grew quieter as her head sank back down on to my shoulder. “Where we headed, sugar?”

“Somewhere close. Safe. I think.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The old loft was just as dank and dirty and run down on the inside as it looked on the outside. Probably worse. No diamonds in the rough here, that’s for sure. Broken glass scattered on the beat up industrial floor scattered the glow of the streetlight through the mist that filled the space. Definitely not up to my usual standard, but hey, we couldn’t really complain too much.

Throwing an old, discarded, and probably moldy, but definitely more disgusting than I wanted to ever touch again, mover’s blanket over the plate window helped to at least hide a little bit of how gross this place looked. Plus, privacy. A quick scan around and I found a pile of old tarps and a couple skeezy mattresses that I definitely wasn’t going to think about where they’d been or who’d done what on them for how long. It’d have to do. A dirty mattress was a small price to pay for still being alive.

"It's not the Four Seasons, but it'll do for now. It's kinda cold- I don't think the building even has heat, but I think we can keep warm enough to make it through the rest of tonight at least."

Grace flopped down heavily on the mattress, exhausted, shoulders slumped, staring vacantly at the floor.

"That was...was that...I don't even know where to start. My brain's been turned to oatmeal. What…? What happened? What in the name of all fucks just happened?"

“Yeah, there’s kind of a lot to unpack here isn’t there?” I just crumpled down into one of the old blankets like a sock puppet being dropped into its nest. “I’m not even sure where to begin.”

“Ya think? Like one minute, I’m trying to mind my business, working my shift at the bar, wondering whether I’m going to have to give another statement to the cops after another bar fight breaks out, and the next I’m getting tossed around like a hot sweet-potato, almost get eaten by a glowing, walking catfish that got beaten a little too hard with the ugly stick, get covered in barbecue sauce, do-si-doed by a goddamn motorcycle ninja, only to wind up in some place that looks like it was lifted straight out of Zillow for Crackheads!”

A snort of wry, tired amusement escaped me. “Yeah, I guess it really does look that bad here. I mean, I’m surprised this place is even still standing after all this time, but you’re right, it definitely looks a bit sketchy.”

“Way to avoid the point, hun.”

“Yeah, I know.” Not sure why, but she kept making me nervous, and the way she was sort of frowning while pinning me down with those sparkling coffee eyes definitely wasn’t helping. Probably just wasn’t used to people making eye contact. Which was the whole reason I was in this mess to begin with. Another sigh. 

“Alright. I’ll explain as much as I can. You deserve that much.”

Grace flopped down on the edge of the mattress, chin propped in her hands for all the world like a kid during goddamn story time. How the hell was I supposed to concentrate when she’s doing things like that? Look away! Only way to save myself for now. 

“OK, here goes. So the thing you saw? Well, it’s a…” I scowled. “It’s a...sunuvabitch, I don’t really know what it’s called. Alright, further back then. The basics. Got it.

“Supernatural things exist. Like you believe that humans are the highest species on this planet and that you’re all alone in the universe, and no one can quite agree on whether there was anything before or after this life or what happens when you die, right? Well, a lot of what most people believe to be myth or religious superstition is actually, um, real.”

So she hasn’t tried to run away just yet. That’s a good sign, right?

“From what I’ve been able to piece together, from the bits I can remember, what you would call ‘heaven’ and ‘hell’ are real places- they’re just not really visible to mortals. Most of the time. ‘Angels’ and ‘demons’ are real things too, but they’re a little bit different than most people tend to think of them from what I’ve seen. 

“I don’t know how many there are, but there’s angels and demons walking around, living just like you and me, every day. The thing is, that mortals like you can’t see them. And that’s where the problem is.”

“Like me?” It wasn’t really a question. Her tone made that clear enough.

“Oh boy. OK, here’s the big one- because with the heaven and hell stuff, most people can be like ‘meh, it’s all superstitious nonsense anyway’ and brush it off. This? Not so much. 

“I’m not human. Or mortal. I can see angels and demons walking around plain as day, just like the ones I’ve met can see me. Mortals...see something else.”

“Like the creep at the bar earlier? Did he see...something else? In you?”

“Yeah. On the outside, at first glance, I look like any other girl. But look closer? Well, you saw what happened. People just aren’t ready to see my real nature.”

“But that didn’t happen to me.” Now Grace was looking a little bit confused- but the kind of confused you get when a teacher is explaining something that you know should make sense, even if you were having a hard time getting it. 

“No, it didn’t. And it took me way too long to pick up on that. I should’ve realized right away. If I had, maybe I could have gotten you out of there faster and that whole ‘sweet potato’ thing wouldn’t have happened.”

“So what should I be seeing? When I look into your eyes I mean?”

“Probably something along the lines of falling through an eternally expanding universe, a sense that you’re tinier than a piece of sand in the scope of the cosmos, that sort of thing. At least, that’s what I’ve heard from a couple of the ones who were able to be slightly coherent afterwards. There haven’t been many of those over the years.”

“Wow. I definitely don’t see that.”

“And that’s the problem, really. I’ve never heard of something like that happening before. I don’t know what it means, or why you can, or anything! All I know is that something is very, very different, and very, very wrong, otherwise that thing wouldn’t have been after us. And right now, I don’t know if what’s wrong is you, or me, or both of us. But we need to find out if we’re going to not be looking over our shoulders for...what did you call it again?”

Grace laughed. A genuine laugh, not weighed down by worry or terror. “A glowing, walking catfish?”

“Ha ha, yeah, that got beaten too many times with the ugly stick!”

Grace sat up suddenly, nodding sharply to herself. “Alright, well, you’re either batshit crazy, or I owe my gran an apology.” Grace was still half chuckling, but looking very intent. 

“Your gran?”

“Yeah, she was super religious, always prayin’, talkin’ and singin’ about god. She must’ve gone to church three times a week! Boy, would she have loved to hear all this.”

“I’ll bet!”

“So, I just wanna make sure I’ve got all the stuff you said- angels are real, and something’s wrong with the fact that I can see your real eyes, and not like, the fires of the Big Bang or something, but you don’t know why that’s a problem or what caused it.. Right?”

“I’d say that about covers it for now, yeah.”

“Alright, I can live with that much for now. I’m clean tuckered out, and you look like you’re about to just fall over any second now. Whaddya say we call it a night?”

“Yeah.” I really could barely keep my eyes open at this point. I guess pretending my motorbike was a juggling pin kind of took it out of me.

Grace popped up, suddenly all business.

“So doesn’t look like this place has a big ol’ tub to dump you in, so we’ll have to settle for a couple of wet wipes. Here, help me get these blankets on to the mattress here. They’re gross, but it’s better than freezing to death.”

“You’re the boss!” Those wet wipes were a pocket-sized blessing, wrapped in foil paper. I’m more of a Chanel and gunpowder type, not so big on the earthy, barbecue scents.

I was starting to stumble a bit as we plopped the discarded blankets down as well as we could in the relative darkness of the loft.

“Probably better to stay dressed with how dirty these blankets are.” Grace frowned as she watched me struggle to pick up one of the heavier blankets a couple of times.

That didn’t even register until much later.

“OK, you, lay down. No more for you tonight. Sleep.”

I couldn’t even argue with her. I just curled up in a ball on the bed, barely aware of Grace pulling a couple of the blankets over me, but I thought I could just make out her arm resting on mine as we both drifted off into the heavy, dreamless sleep that comes when you’ve been pushed to your limits. At least, I kind of hope it was. 

[a-bit-too-much-of-a-zelda-fan]

LinkedUniverse Fanfic Ch. 13: Inn or Out... Maybe Just Inn

Stop! You’ve Violated the Law!

So, you’ve stumbled upon this original post for my Linked Universe fanfiction. That’s okay, it happens to everyone. As of March 2021, I’ve uploaded the entirety of this fanfic to my Archive of Our Own page. Along with finally giving the story a name–Oops! All Links: A Linked Universe Story–I made substantial edits to some of the chapters. These range from minor stylistic revisions to fixing a gaping plot hole that kinda completely broke the character conflict in the earlier chapters. I also renamed and renumbered (but not reordered) the chapters. Specifically, this is now Chapter 15: Inn or Out... Maybe Just Inn

The AO3 iterations of these chapters are the definitive versions. So, if you would like to read this fanfiction, please do so on AO3, right here. With this embedded link. Hehe. Geddit? Link?

Note: My screen name on AO3 is FrancisDuFresne. Yes, that is me. I am not plagiarizing myself.

Anyway, for posterity’s sake, the rest of the original post is below the cut.

This chapter in my @linkeduniverse fan narrative: the Links have made it Selggog. They’re pretty tired. It’s time for them to get some well-deserved rest. They’ll need to find an inn, first. Word count: 2581:

“The Town of Selggog,” Warrior let the words roll off his tongue. Well, he tried. “Selggog” doesn’t really roll off the tongue. “You think we can restock here?”

Wind looked around the town in awe. Its weathered but dignified buildings stood close to one another in tightly packed streets. The orange light of the setting sun reflected off the high windows. People bustled about on their last-minute errands. Compared to Windfall Island, it was practically a metropolis. “Yeah,” he replied. “Definitely. Look at this place!”

Time was reminded vaguely of Hyrule Castle Town. Being back in civilization was a nice change of pace. He drank in the sights and sounds and smells of the town. Some people eyed the Links warily, perhaps put on edge by nine heavily-armed young men. He supposed these people weren’t used to travelers, let alone warriors like him and his friends.

“Don’t get caught up in all of this,” Time warned the others. “We still need to be on guard.”

Four remembered the gang of thieves he encountered on one of his journeys. “Yeah,” he said. “We don’t need any pickpockets.”

“Anyone see an inn?” Sky asked with a yawn, looking for any sign of lodging.

“Not yet, sleepyhead,” Legend jested.

“We do need to restock, though,” Warrior repeated. “We need an apothecary for potions, a market for food, a fletcher for arrows… Twilight, do you need new pants?”

As he walked, Twilight glanced at his torn and bloodied pant leg. “No, I’m fine. I’ll fix them tomorrow morning.”

“Okay, what else?”

Wild spoke up hesitantly: “An armorer. I need a new shield… and probably a new sword, too.”

“A new sword? Seriously?” Legend asked, whipping around to face his companion. “What’d you do to your old one?”

“The fight with the stalfos really did a number on it.”

Warrior smacked his own forehead. ‘Maybe, if you took care of your weapons for once, they wouldn’t break so easily!”

“Yeah, come on,” Four chimed in. A blacksmith himself, it always bugged him when he saw how Wild treated his weapons.

Time sighed. Yet again, he needed to stop their bickering. “Lay off him,” he snapped. “Four, take a look at his sword in the morning and decide if he needs a new one.”

The one-eyed hero took a deep breath. “What we need to do right now is find an inn. No stores will be open at this hour.”

They turned a corner. As if on cue, they spotted a sign swinging from above a building’s door. A crescent moon was painted on the worn, wooden surface. Behind it, they could see the last sliver of sun creep behind the rooftops. Stars began popping into sight above them in the twilit sky. “Talk about good timing,” Wind said, stretching his arms upward. “I’m just about ready to collapse.”

The nine companions reached the inn’s door and opened it. A bell chimed as it swung open. The heroes filed in. The place had a cozy feel to it. To one side, several cushioned chairs were arranged around the crackling fireplace. On the other, high tables and stools stood near a bar. A stairwell was set in the far wall. The reception desk was ahead of them.

A portly, balding, middle-aged man sat behind the desk. He had clearly been nodding off, by the way he jolted when the bell rang. That, and the line of drool rolling down his chin; he quickly ran his sleeve across his face. Like the townsfolk outside, he gave the heroes a wary look. From the bloody slash in Twilight’s pant leg to the halberd on Wild’s back, they weren’t exactly dressed to the nines.

The man stood up from his stool and took a few seconds to look the Links up and down. “Welcome to the Black Pot & Kettle Inn. Can I help you?” he asked apprehensively.

Time stepped forward. The man stepped back. Spending so much time around Malon and his other selves made him forget how intimidating he could appear. Most folks weren’t accustomed to seeing people with one eye, never mind one with strange markings on his face, wearing armor, and carrying a massive sword on his back. He had to work to dispel that impression.

“We would like lodgings for the night, please,” Time said.

The man, who they reckoned must be the innkeeper, shot Time an incredulous look. “You fellas got the cash for this many of you?”

“Yes,” Time asserted. Firm yet gentle. “We’ll only need three rooms.”

He looked back to his companions, who nodded their assent. He turned to face the innkeeper, who was reaching under his desk. Time just barely caught the man muttering under his breath, “psh, only three rooms.” After a jingling of metal, the innkeeper stood up and held out three room keys. “Can I have a name for these?”

“Link.”

“Huh. Odd name for a… warrior… such as yourself.”

The man’s skepticism escaped none of them. If only he knew who they really were, they all mused. He likely noticed the indignance on all their faces, because he lowered the sarcastic tone as he said “Okay, Mister Link. That’ll be three hundred rupees.”

A few of them had to suppress gasps. That was a hefty price for just one night. Thinking quickly, Hyrule stepped up next to Time. He placed a forearm on the desk and stared down the innkeeper. “You know, sir, we don’t have to stay here,” he said, jerking his thumb toward the door. “I’m sure Selggog has plenty other fine inns that would love our business.”

The innkeeper’s demeanor changed immediately. “Yes,” he agreed, “yes, I’m sure they would. How does… two hundred fifty rupees sound?”

Hyrule wasn’t about to settle. “One hundred.”

Sky leaned over to Hyrule and whispered: “Don’t push it.” Hyrule shook his head.

“One hundred?!” The man exclaimed. “Do I look like a fool to you?”

Hyrule had to suppress the urge to answer truthfully.

The innkeeper caved a bit. “Fine, fine, you’re a tough customer. Two hundred.”

“One-fifty,” Hyrule pressed, maintaining his stony glare. “Final.”

The innkeeper considered this. Hyrule could practically see the gears cranking in his balding head. After a moment, the innkeeper sighed. “Alright, kid. One-fifty, but only cause I’m in a good mood.”

The Links hadn’t expected to get a cheaper price that easily. Hyrule grinned as he reached into his pouch and pulled out his wallet. He withdrew three purple rupees and placed them on the desk. The innkeeper’s eyes lit up. Losing half of his sale didn’t seem to bother him anymore. He swept the rupees into one hand and held out the keys in the other. Hyrule took them.

“Upstairs, last three on the left,” the innkeeper instructed, crossing his arms. “Bath is at the end of the hall.” He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t make a mess.”

Time stepped by Hyrule and held out his hand. The innkeeper eyed it suspiciously, then shook it. “Thank you for your hospitality,” Time said, “and your generosity.”

The innkeeper gave an indiscriminate grunt. The Links turned and headed up the stairs. The stairwell turned direction at a landing midway up, then led to the second floor. Oil lamps set above the doors lit a long hall with a threadbare rug running the length of it. The heroes walked to the end and looked about themselves.

“How should we split?” Four asked.

“Come on,” Legend said, “you of all people should know how to split.”

This got a few stifled snickers. “Very funny,” he shot back. “But seriously.”

“It doesn’t really matter, does it?” Twilight pointed out. “We’ll go by height.”

After a moment trying to figure out the order, Legend passed the keys around. They uttered goodnights to each other. Twilight unlocked one door and walked in. Time and Warrior followed. Wind, Four, and Legend did the same, as did Wild, Sky, and Hyrule. The rooms were like the rest of the Black Pot & Kettle Inn: cozy and inviting, if not a bit worse for the wear. Three beds with clean linens ran flush against one long wall. A desk, chair, and dresser were by the other. A mirror hung above the dresser, and a small, open window was set in the far wall.

In one room, the heroes began undressing from their battle garments. As Sky unhooked his sailcloth from around his neck, he looked over to Hyrule. He hadn’t expected a show like that from a humble traveler like him. “Hey,” Sky said, “that was pretty gutsy back there.”

“Ah, well…” Hyrule replied. “Three hundred seemed high, so I wanted to get it down.”

Sky cocked an eyebrow. “Wait, so if you don’t like the price of something, you just ask for it for cheaper?”

“Basically,” Hyrule said with a shrug. “People in my Hyrule charge whatever they want for everything, so I had to learn to haggle to get cheap prices.”

Wild propped his halberd against one corner. He paused, looking back on his own adventure. “That’s odd. Where I’m from, it’s as if there’s a price-guide everyone agreed to. Everything’s always the same.” He remembered how much Yiga assassins charged for bananas. “Well, most of it anyway.”

Something clicked in Sky’s head. He suddenly stopped undoing his baldric. “Wait…” he said slowly, “so when Beedle kept jacking up his prices, I didn’t have to pay them?”

“Beedle?” Wild asked. “You can’t mean the merchant, can you? The one who likes bugs?”

“I… yeah, I guess,” Sky said, scratching his head. “How can we know the same person?”

Wild thought about it for a moment. He let down his hair. “Aren’t you supposed to live thousands of years before me?”

“I think so.”

Taking off his boots, Wild looked up to his friends. Sky looked as confused as he felt. “That’s really weird.”

Hyrule slid his power bracelet off his wrist. “Wait, did you say this Beedle guy jacked his prices?”

Sky laughed. “Did he ever! I swear, he nearly drove me bankrupt. Something could be a hundred rupees one day, then be a thousand the next.”

“Seriously?” Hyrule asked. “You never tried to haggle?”

With a shrug, Sky undid his belt, then pulled his tunic and chainmail off over his head. “I didn’t really think that was an option,” he admitted.

“Well,” Wild said, unwrapping the patterned cloth from his forearms, “we can use that extra hundred rupees to buy more provisions. After this knucklehead here”—he jerked his head towards Hyrule—“got himself hurt, we’re out of potions.”

“I’m net even, then,” Hyrule said. “I used the last of the potions, and I saved us the money we need to buy more.”

Sky chuckled. “He’s got you there. You’re one to talk, too. It’ll be more than a hundred to replace that shield.”

Wild looked over the dented Stalfos shield lying next to his other weapons and sighed. “Yeah. That thing is awful.”

“Ha, I thought you were able to use any weapon you come across,” Hyrule joked, his voice muffled as he took off his tunic.

The young knight shot him a look. “It was designed for a skeleton. There’s practically no room for my arm. It’s also weighted all wrong.”

“Riiight.” Hyrule’s voice was tinged with sarcasm.

Just then, they heard a loud rumbling. Sky and Hyrule stood and were reaching for their swords when Wild waved at them dismissively. “Calm down,” he said. “I’m just hungry.”

Sky and Hyrule looked at each other and started laughing. Now that they were thinking about it, they realized they were starving, too. Wild reached into his pouch and pulled out a few strips venison jerky he made the previous week. He put one between his teeth and held the rest to his friends. Hyrule grabbed a couple and thanked him.

Sky shook his head. “I’m good, thanks.”

Wild raised an eyebrow, shrugged, then ripped some jerky off with his teeth and started eating. The people of Skyloft didn’t keep livestock, so their newest knight wasn’t comfortable hunting and eating meat. Survivalists like Wild and Hyrule were puzzled by this but stopped pressing him after a few days.

Even so, Hylia’s chosen hero was still hungry. “Do we still have any more of that soup?” he asked.

Swallowing his mouthful, Wild reached back into his bag. “Let me see… uh… hm… oh!”

He pulled out a corked bottle filled with soup. Twilight had shared this recipe with Wild a while back. He said it was the best soup he had ever had in his life. When Wild finally got around to making it, Sky requested that they leave the fish out. It was tempting to eat all of it then, but they had the sense to put a few bottles away. Wild handed him the bottle.

Sky uncorked it and took a swig of the cold soup. It was better hot, but still tasty and hearty nonetheless. He wiped his mouth and looked from Hyrule to Wild. It was only just after sundown, but they looked as exhausted as he felt. “Hey,” he said.

“Hm?” Hyrule grunted, mouth full of jerky.

“Let’s get some rest. Something tells me Time is going to wake us up early.” He sighed. “Again.”

Wild and Hyrule each nodded. The three of them finished undressing, crawled under their sheets, and—after Hyrule extinguished the oil lamp on the wall—shut their eyes to welcome sleep. A few minutes passed before a whisper pierced the darkness. “You guys good after today?” Sky asked.

“Yep,” Wild whispered back.

“…Yeah,” Hyrule replied. A moment’s pause, then “But what about the others?”

After a few seconds of silence, Sky spoke up. “I dunno. Twi looked pretty shaken.”

“Dark Link seriously messed with him,” Wild pointed out. “Those corpses he made Twi see…”

“And Time…” Hyrule breathed. “You guys weren’t there when he put on that mask. It was awful.”

Something clicked in Sky’s mind. “Was that him screaming?”

“Mhm. He was in so much pain. I can’t help but feel it was my fault. He did it to save me.”

Wild rolled onto his side and looked at Hyrule. The dim moonlight showed the guilt on his face. “Don’t. I was in that position once, so I know that he would do anything he needed to to save his friends. It’s on him, not you.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t let this haunt you. It’s not worth it.”

Hyrule let these words sink in. It was a weight off his chest, but he still had an inkling of that guilty feeling. Sky reflected on his own adventure, how Hylia used him and his love for Zelda so he would willingly run headfirst into unfathomable danger. This courage and love ran through every Link’s blood, he reckoned. “We’ve all been there,” he whispered, “and if I’m on the mark, we wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The Link who felt the least like a hero out of the nine looked up at the dark ceiling. “Yeah.” He closed his eyes. “Yeah… I guess you’re right.”

No more words were spoken that night. The three of them fell asleep in a few minutes, as did the six of them in the other rooms. After everything they had been through the past two days, just feeling a soft bed under them was enough to knock them out. The thought running through all of their minds was the same: It’s about damn time.

[imhereformysciencefriends]

Pt 2

—

“Aw, Carm, this is a beauty,” Zack praised, running his hand affectionately over the dashboard. “Listen to her purr.”

“Why are all your cars girls?” Ivy asked disdainfully, hiding her pleasure at seeing Zack so excited again. So genuinely happy.

“Because I love women and I love cars—and I also love boats and planes, and trains, and motorcycles, and...”

“I’m glad you like it,” Carmen said, getting in. “We need a quiet car for quiet getaways. Can’t leave a noisy car running at the ready.”

“This is gonna be so great,” Zack said, hugging the steering wheel like a long lost lover, “This is already so great.”

Ivy rolled her eyes.

“So,” Carmen said, sitting next to Ivy in the backseat, immediately grabbing all of her attention and making the space seem so much smaller, “tell me about yourself, partner.”

Ivy felt her heart leap into her throat.

“Well, I’m from Boston,” she started, trying to make herself sound as casual and natural as if she were meeting a normal, regular human being, not the (muscle muscle muscle HOT GIRL muscle pretty) partner-in-crime of her dreams, “born and raised, haven’t gotten out much. Enrolled in the toughest undergraduates my college had to offer for my major last year and breezed through ‘em so fast I took nothing but graduate courses this last semester and a half.” She didn’t normally feel any particular need to brag, but, well, she really wanted to impress this woman who’d been raised from infancy to be a thief and special operative. “Make gadgets. Joined the white hat hackers for something to do and ended up gettin’ invested.”

“They’ve got a certain allure,” Carmen agreed, nodding. Ivy was too tongue tied to make any kind of slip about the other alluring component of her very current situation.

Underneath them, the car purred just a little louder, and Ivy realized that it had been accelerating smoothly, seamlessly, without her even noticing. The scenery was rocketing past them.

“Zack, I don’t think we should get caught by police this early in the game,” she said, just a tiny bit irritated.

“Relax, Ivy, we’re in the middle of nowhere! Where are the cops gonna be in the Midwest? Hiding in a corn field?”

“Most major cities in Midwestern America do have state patrols on the interstate not far out from city limits, precisely to catch people who share that mindset,” Carmen informed Zack, oozing that well-earned, deceptively simple confidence that Ivy knew was deserved. “And while it’s known for corn, a large number of farmers grow soybeans as well, which can be chocolate coated and eaten like candy, harvested for oil for biodiesel fuel, and can even be turned into crayons.”

Ivy stared at Carmen, rapt.

“The Midwest is often referred to as ‘tornado alley,’ or its more traditional moniker, ‘The Great Plains.’ The plainlands are notorious for their green, electric skies that foretell tornadoes, and also have some pretty stark shifts through seasonal changes. Though, no one ever seems to think that spring lasts long enough.”

“Well aren’t you just a walkin’ geography book,” Zack said, sounding about as stunned as Ivy felt, and the car slowed a little.

“Thanks. But Zack is also right. This far from the city, nobody with a badge is going to see us until we hit the next small town.”

There was a beat, and then Ivy heard the engine rev, climbing speeds with renewed vigor. “Awwww yeaaaah!” Zack crowed.

Carmen turned back to Ivy, and she kinda hoped she wasn’t blushing as hot as she felt like she was blushing. Carmen was an ocean. Ivy didn’t get to see much change on the surface, but there was a deep power and awe-inspiring quality to Carmen that lied just beneath, so close to the surface Ivy could practically feel it thrum. She wondered what it would be like to see Carmen storm.

She was staring, oops, uh, conversation, normal-people talk!

“So, tell me about you,” Ivy choked a little on the word, “partner.”

Carmen arched a single eyebrow and Ivy internally bemoaned how it wasn’t fair. She could never make her face do that! “I thought Player already debriefed you.”

“He gave me the basics,” Ivy nudged Carmen’s shin with her sneaker, like she would any other casual, regular-friend acquaintance. “I wanna hear from you.”

“It’s gonna have to wait,” Zack warned from the driver’s seat, “according to Player’s GPS, we’re gettin’ close.”

Far off, a semi truck was just becoming visible. Carmen nodded with determination, brown eyes locked on the distant figure.

“According to our intel, V.I.L.E. has probably already stolen the pipe. It’s an important relic that dates back centuries, and V.I.L.E. knows it’s a sacred part of Oglala Lakota culture. Plenty of shady museums are willing to pay a hefty price for the stolen artifacts of Native cultures. We’re going to make sure it gets back where it belongs.”

Ivy felt something electric in her pulse—and for once it wasn’t attraction to this pretty lady. It was something bigger, faster, far more exciting. Like the buzz of working with Zack to get into mischief, but amplified, nameless.

“Right,” she agreed, with a passion she was surprised to feel. They all activated their comms—tiny, closed-route devices Ivy made that linked them all to Player and each other—and got ready.

Zack slowed as they got to the semi, and Carmen leapt deftly through the open top of the car onto the hood. Zack kept a steady pace, bumper to bumper despite moving down the interstate, and Carmen fastened one of Ivy’s gadgets to the lock. The door of the truck swung open and—

Carmen had dodged and blocked before either of the twins had registered there were assailants inside. Deftly, competently, confidently, Carmen jumped into the metal cavity and punched an operative straight in the nose.

“Really, it’s like none of you remember to protect the face,” Carmen said as she dropped low to avoid a punch and then slammed the underside of her aggressor's chin. “Coach Brunt gives very good advice. You should listen.” Ivy distantly noted that the audio quality of their comms was perfect, exactly what she’d hoped.

Ivy watched Carmen move like Zack watched his video games. Utterly immersed, not wanting to even blink. There was fire in her gut, sparks inside her veins, a drumming noise inside her head that swelled in her lungs and threatened to burst from her ribcage.

Then someone got an arm around Carmen’s neck and Ivy knew, instinctively, in her very bones, what she needed to do. She pulled the grappling hook from her bag and leapt into the passenger seat, one foot propped on the rim of the windshield as she attacked the hook.

“What are—Ivy, Ivy you haven’t tested that yet!”

“Perfect time then, eh?” Ivy asked, barely hearing her brother over the thrum in her skull and veins. She aimed while one of the operatives picked himself up off the floor, grabbing a baton while Carmen struggled against the arm pressed to her windpipe.

“Not a perfect time! Now is not the—“

With a click and a woosh and a surge forward off the windshield, Ivy was airborne. She kicked her legs out hard and planted her feet right into the fellow with the baton, cushioning her landing but knocking him out cold. And maybe breaking a rib. Who knew—who cared?

“Hiya!” Ivy screamed as she rounded on the other man who—who was. Not standing anymore. Carmen stood, like she hadn’t been choked or bothered at all, and Ivy felt just a tiny bit silly for her shout but mostly she felt alight with something that could’ve been adrenaline.

“Nice gadget,” Carmen praised, and Ivy grinned, heady with their seeming victory.

A booming noise and blue light from the open door grabbed their attention, and the truck gained speed like it was a bullet train.

“That’s Dr. Bellum’s nitro,” Carmen informed swiftly, scooping Ivy up in her arms, “We’d better bounce.”

Carmen leapt, Ivy in her arms like a princess in the embrace of a valiant knight, from the semi’s open door into the open top of the car that was just barely still close enough for them to make the jump. Carmen shoved Ivy down as they landed, so that she bounced into the seat, head knocking against the headrest, and Ivy held onto Carmen, keeping her body from rocketing into the metal rim of the roof (or worse, toppling over it). Carmen and Ivy were both breathing hard, eyes locked as Carmen flopped into the seat, and they shared twin grins as Zack slowed the car and took off down a highway, branching from the interstate into the endless, gentle hills of the plains.

“That was great,” Carmen told Ivy as she pulled the pipe from her red coat, grinning triumphantly, “especially for a rookie.”

Ivy laughed and punched Carmen playfully in the shoulder, still high off whatever this was. “That was amazing. Zack, Zack, we are never going back to Boston.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice!” Zack crowed as well, “I mean, unless there’s a caper there.”

“I will allow one excuse for Boston capers. Oh my god!” Ivy said, laughing again, flopping bonelessly in the backseat as the adrenaline crashed. “That was so cool.”

“Yeah,” Carmen said, sounding pleased.

—

<<Player you ain’t gonna BELIEVE what happened today!>>

<<Is it that Red swept you up in her arms and jumped from the back of a moving vehicle? Or that you discovered your passion for benevolent crime that was latent inside you all along?>>

<<SHE’S SO STRONG!>>

<<Yeah, Red already told me about it. Glad the first caper went well. It’s always nice to get off to a good start>>

<<She picked me up like it was NOTHIN’. Do I even weigh anythin’ to her?>>

<<It’s probably like lifting grapes or something>>

<<Player oh my god what have you done? How am I supposed to survive this?>>

<<You’re welcome>>

<<On a more serious note, yes I did discover my love of crime and theft and kicking dudes really really hard and you were absolutely right about me wantin’ to go on an adventure; how’d you know?>>

<<Eh, some wishful thinking and a lucky guess>>

<<I’m gonna go pass out now.>>

<<Make sure you hydrate>>

<<That goes double for you, cave goblin.>>

—

<<HER SKIN WAS SO SOFT>>

<<There there, Red>>

<<PLAYER SHE SMELLED SO GOOD>>

<<It’ll be okay; you’ll get through this>>

<<She hadn’t tested it yet! She risked her life specifically to come help me!>>

<<It was very cash money of her>>

<<Did I tell you about how she counterbalanced me so I didn’t crack a rib or go over the rim?>>

<<You did>>

<<She doesn’t have any training, Player. She just DID THAT! For me!>>

<Mmhhmm>>

<<Player I think I have a crush>>

<<I think so too>>

<<Help I‘ve never had a crush before>>

<<You liar>>

<<Well okay yeah I’ve had crushes before but never when I could actually DO anything about it! I was always ‘that island kid’ to all the people I had crushes on, and by the time I was finally old enough to maybe date one of the students there weren’t any options.>>

<<Mhm>>

<<El Topo and Le Chèvre have been an item since practically always, Mime Bomb was just… no, Tigress hated my guts, and Crackle was basically the brother I’d always wanted.>>

<<Yeah>>

<<Wait, what if that’s it? Ivy is the first real option I’ve ever had, so my brain is going haywire and overreacting.>>

<<What do you feel about Zack?>>

<<...>>

<<,’:)>>

<<I like him, and he’s attractive, in the way that humans are attractive, but he’s not very attractive to me.>>

<<Mhm>>

<<I have a crush on Ivy.>>

<<Yes>>

<<Player what do I do?>>

<<Well, my mom says all good relationships are built on the solid foundation of good friendships. Start there>>

<<So focus on being her friend and not the dumb complicated feelings that are dumb and complicated, got it.>>

<<I wouldn’t ignore them entirely. It’s normal to have crushes, and most people see them as a good thing. Just don’t let it be the ONLY thing, you know?>>

<<Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense.>>

<<I always make sense, you should listen to me because I’m always right.>>

<<Haha>>

<<I am a font of wisdom, don’t play>>

<<Yeah. Hey, Player?>>

<<Red>>

<<Thanks. Talking to you always makes me feel grounded.>>

<<Hey, what are besties for?>>

Part 1 | Part 3

[spiders-hth-is-an-outlier]

So I’ve been kinda snide about the GoT finale, and that’s -- not entirely fair, because it was, I mean, fine.  It was fine, for what it was -- for what the show wanted to be, which it turns out was, “Will the Stark Kids make it out of these troubled times okay?”  And they mostly did, and it was fine (sorry, Robb).

And just so I don’t feel like the last living human without a Hot Take on Game of Thrones, I thought I’d take a shot at why, in spite of having a number of strengths and being sometimes pretty great, the overall arc and particularly the ending made me unhappy as One of Those Annoying Book Fans.  (I’m going to say all this like it’s Objectively True, which surely we all understand nothing is, so insert all the relevant in-my-opinions and all that.)

So I *love* the books, the books were a life-changing revelation for me when I started reading them back in 1997 when I was a slip of a 21-year-old lifelong fantasy fan.  And yeah, I know the reputation now is “ooooh, aren’t you a grimdark edgelord, so impressed with your gritty fantasy faux-realism,” but -- uh, I’m not sorry.  Because the thing is I wasn’t reading for “realism” in the sense of “this is like reality” -- I like *narrative,* which reality unfortunately noticeably lacks, and ASOIAF was very clearly a crafted narrative that was trying to say extremely specific things *about narrative* and about the cognitive dissonance that arises when narrative-loving human brains have to cope with narrative-indifferent reality.  That may seem like slicing the distinction pretty fine, but I think it matters.  The books weren’t just a bunch of shit happening because “in real life, that’s what would happen, just a bunch of shit.”  The specific shit that happened, and its ramifications and the way people processed said shit according to their distinctive needs and perspectives and hang-ups, was all extremely deliberate, and aimed straight at a Serious Thematic Point, which is that fantasy novels are obsessed with exactly the most irrelevant shit possible, and maybe that’s a problem.

These are books that revolve around a crisis in succession and legitimacy of kingship, like practically all high fantasy does (even more so back then, but it still seems pretty common).  An usurper sits on the throne and two legitimate heirs are in exile, and there’s this constant sense of unease, because from the perspective of our main viewpoint character, that’s -- good?  Because even though the Baratheon dynasty took over illegitimately, Robert is a better king than the last one, and Ned supports him.  Only Robert himself is uneasy and paranoid, his reign totally dependent on the goodwill of a family of rich assholes he hates and constantly haunted by the idea that the Targaryen children might come for their revenge, which by the cultural logic of Westeros, they’ll pretty much deserve.  So here you have all this palace intrigue and political skullduggery, and it’s immediately interesting because instead of being about restoring the Rightful King, it’s about propping up the guy who had the Rightful King killed, because he’s not great but the first guy was worse.

But the deeper you get into it, the more you start to realize that above and beyond the “subversive” flipped script of the idea of royal legitimacy, there’s a second and *far fucking better* subversion happening.

The point of the books is that IT DOESN’T FUCKING MATTER who sits on the throne.  That the entire “game” is not just flipped in the sense of “you thought this person should be the king, but really it was a different person who should be the king” -- the game itself is illegitimate, and destructive, and fundamentally absurd, a bunch of assholes wreaking limitless chaos out of their fixed ideas about cosmic order, which are, every single one of them, wildly wrong.

It happens on two prongs simultaneously -- first, the Iron Throne doesn’t matter because *whoever* is “in power” is immediately hamstrung.  They can’t actually do anything of any significance, because they’re 100% occupied from the moment they step into the bullseye with fending off eight hundred other assholes who want to be king of the hill, so no succession in the entire series can happen in an “orderly” or “legitimate” way -- every one of them is bedeviled by uprisings and invasions and civil wars and assassination attempts and legal challenges, and the point is that this will continue to happen forever, while the world just kind of trudges on.  The second arm of IT DOESN’T FUCKING MATTER is the long game, because Winter Is Coming, and not one person on the entire planet is remotely prepared to put their personal bullshit aside in order to figure out what to do with an ice zombie invasion.  People are just going to keep offing each other for imaginary honors and getting knocked off in their turn, and one day they’ll wake up and realize they rule a world that’s uninhabitable and NONE OF IT FUCKING MATTERED.

That was the point of ASOIAF to my reading, and that’s what I loved about it.  Its “realism” was that it drilled down hard into the brutal reality that we saturate ourselves in stories about how great it’s going to be when the Good Leader is on the throne at last, but *that’s never going to happen,* because leaders are regular humans who run the gamut between “pretty all right” and “just the fucking worst,” but they change pretty regularly, and waiting for the Good Leader to fix it all is a sucker’s game anyway, because people don’t just show up and save the world and establish The Good Times and then the story is over.  That’s *not a real thing,* and maybe we should tell at least the occasional story that doesn’t end that way, so we won’t all be so goddamn obsessed with pinning our hopes on saviors who don’t pan out.

The thing is...I don’t know how you end a story like that.  I more than a little bit suspect that GRRM also does not know how you end a story like that.  When the whole point is that politics is an endless game with no real winners and that even the putative winners aren’t really capable of stopping the tides of history, when do you ring the curtain down?  I actually have no idea.

What I was not hoping for was a final season that is entirely, uncritically, about making sure we all feel good about who gets to be kings and queens and who doesn’t.  That -- DOESN’T FUCKING MATTER.  I mean, I almost love having Bran take the throne, because there’s this weird subtextual kind of “lol, who cares, have that guy do it I guess” baked into the meaninglessness of Bran, who doesn’t want anything or, mostly, even feel anything.  But all the literal and figurative chair-shuffling at the end of the episode about who’s going to serve on the council and who’s in charge of what, I just....  It seems like the writers really thought that was the payoff.  That what we all needed to know about the Game of Thrones is who ends up winning it.

And that’s such a baldly, drastically, jaw-droppingly bad payoff for the ASOIAF that I loved.  The suggestion that the realm will be brought to some kind of peace now that the Correct, Better Dynasty is enthroned in the allied Six Kingdoms/North is completely ass backwards from the entire point of the books.  Winter coming and going harmlessly, the Others (White Walkers, whatever) dispatched in one single-night battle, just betrays the source material so audaciously that it feels like it had to be deliberate.  That was the whole goddamn story!  That Winter Was Coming!!!!!  And then the show just -- didn’t do that, and instead built its climax around A Good Leader dispatching A Bad Leader, whereby the realm is saved, yay.

Only the point was that power operates systemically, and power itself takes in the people who would wield it, and power replicates itself in the forms that are familiar, and that the problem isn’t that we need to keep searching for the Rightful King, because *power doesn’t suddenly become benevolent when it’s invested in someone with good intentions.*  I know there are still people who will argue with me about that, and -- I mean, fine, that’s a matter of differing political philosophies, but Team Great Man Theory of History can rest assured that basically every other epic story will back up their worldview, because that worldview makes for better, more satisfying stories.

ASOIAF was written for the rest of us.  It was a big, rich, plotty, absorbing epic story about a world where people were only human and things were only ever going to get put right to the degree that the world has ever been put right, which is...not especially.  But still, the characters were *human,* and what they chose to do mattered.  At least, it mattered to exactly whichever degree you personally believe that the things people choose to do matter, and it kind of challenged you to answer that question for yourself: if you knew you were never going to win the game and never going to save the world, because it’s not that kind of a world, what would you do?  Would you still try to be a hero?  Would you take the world for everything you could get?  Would you just keep your damn head down?  Would you just chase what you loved instead of the fate of nations?  Would you try all those things at different times, as seemed right to you in the moment, and then live with the consequences?

I don’t know how the hell you make that into a tv show, or if it’s even remotely possible.  I just know that the show they made needed an ending, and the one they went with just felt a lot like every book I’ve ever read in my life *except* these books.  Which might have been inevitable from the beginning, but it’s still disappointing.

[despiteherself]

somewhat spoiler-y thoughts under the cut. don’t keep reading if you don’t want to see stuff about httyd3

okay. so overall i actually enjoyed httyd3 (surprising; i know). i do have lots and lots of complaints but the stuff i liked was exciting and interesting enough that i sort of just blacked out the bad stuff. and i’m going to love picking that stuff apart bc boy was there some cringy shit. especially if you don’t like hiccstrid, their scenes with actual relationship talk were awkward and wooden and god. the ending was SO :/ 

actual spoilers from here on out. you’ve been warned. 

grimmel was a lot more compelling as a villain. they sort of gave him a backstory thing and it kind of ruined it a bit for me bc it was basically “i killed a night fury as a boy and my village loved me for it so i killed all of them” but idk something about it was lacking and i was like. oh. did you guys not care enough to flesh this one out. actually, writing it down it sounds way better motivation than when he actually said it even tho it’s basically the same thing.

the deathgrippers were being controlled! grimmel was using their venom to mind control them, so any “alpha talk” didn’t get through to them and they did exactly what grimmel wanted. 

and hiccup didn’t give a shit lol. these dragons were constantly being drugged via needles in their head/neck and being forced to hunt and attack and carry grimmel around and hiccup didn’t even feel a little bit sorry for them or express any pain. the whole movie was kinda “wow ppl don’t deserve dragons we need to save them” but he didn’t express any empathy for dragons being used? not many were shown in this movie to be used, and even less that hiccup saw, but idk the whole “let the things you love go!” didn’t congeal well. 

further more, he made several terrible decisions for the entirety of berk, including running away to find the hidden world, which they had no proof even existed and absolutely kept walking exactly into everything grimmel wanted, but when ruff did it (after she was “captured” and let go she flies straight back the place they’ve settled leading grimmel back to new berk) it felt like it was being played as a WAY worse thing. like she was an idiot for doing it, and it was just! hiccup. every decision you’ve made has been panicked and blind and made your position worse and worse. 

gobber, valka and eret all get a little screen time, and they all play the naysayer stoick part? like “hiccup this is dangerous” and hiccup completely ignores them. them: hiccup we have advice hiccup: ok cool im not listening and i don’t want to hear it. they don’t even get to really explain their points of view ??????? 

valka’s other stuff is “oh we might have been followed leaving berk” and then her being all “astrid do u still love and believe in my son?????” what “he’ll listen to u” uhm ??? and no one else i get? ?/ they literally do not talk except about hiccup

gobber’s scene where he tells hiccup to marry astrid is so weird and awkward and only tuffnut yelling “oh no not the m word!” had anything that made it better. noah fence but astrid was all “that’s weird and awkward of you” and tells hiccup she thinks they’re “not ready for marriage” and the idea is silly and it 100% sounds like she’s not interested in him at all. and he’s obviously super invested and he’s all “haha maybe you can have snotlout” she makes “jokes” about snotlout being into valka. it was.... 

also. he ONLY mentioned snotlout when saying there’s other guys and idk. it ..... idk now i think about it it maybe feels the “joke” is kinda who would want snotlout which :/ but i guess means tuff and fishlegs are valid suitors? i don’t know 

hiccup in the whole was pretty weak tbh. like he didn’t stand out for me and most of his plot felt like it had a bunch of good ideas but they struggled putting it together. it’s like when u see a fic and u love the general idea but the execution is not how u would, and they go on and it’s like. i really really wouldn’t have 

they weirdly anthropomorphise toothless and then also. have him act like a dog and i found it disconcerting 

the light fury is genuinely super blobby and ugly and i cna’t believe they made me watch SO much of “uwuw sexy seductress” content and toothless being a complete airhead who licks a rock to “practice” for it. was weird and i was uncomfortable. 

also astrid is all “wow toothless has a girlfriend its so cute !!!!!!!” and they watch him watch other dragons doing mating dances and hiccup is like ‘i never pegged you for a romantic, like never” like get a fuckign hint !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! she never kisses you on the cheek. astrid expressing sentiment cause she thinks something is romantic but never for your relationship is telling you A LOT about it 

honestly. they don’t do anything to make me convinced in ANY WAY that astrid is actually into him and wants to marry him for real. at their wedding she is SO wooden and when they kiss hiccup brings his hand up but astrid is just STANDING there,,, and they look so blank. it’s so. 

also. i was right astrid was mostly just a prop for hiccup’s story and she barely interacts with anyone that isn’t hiccup or valka, and when it’s valka it’s about hiccup. 

aside from toothless, and a little bit of stormfly, the gang’s dragons are mostly just. in the background and don’t really have anything to do with anything

behind everything there were this warlords, i didn’t pick up names and apparently they were the ones who were funding drago or whatever? and they call grimmel in bc he cares about killing night furies and are hoping that it’ll mean they get all the dragons. it was kinda. i sort of liked the idea but i felt it was shoved in, and they just mentioned drago to make it seem like it was planned when they came out of nowhere. and idk not planned at all. like an idea that was good but they didn’t edit everything to make sure it fit. a lot of stuff felt kind retcon-y like apparently stoick was “obsessed with finding the hidden world” and he even mentions in a flash back that it’s not the nest they’re looking for in httyd1 so it’s so weird like. and there was this ~journals~ stoick had about it and it’s just! they never ever mentioned this before gfhsdfjhdfgjdfgfdg guys. that’s so fucking messy and kinda annoying. in the grand scheme this retconning isn’t too much, but it’s enough that it’s like. none of this was planned and i can tell and instead of making it match up you just bluster through like “actually this always happened” as if u think i’m a dumbass who will just blindly believe whatever you tell me instead of a long time fan with a personal involvement.i know some of u read my blog,,, come on   

i didn’t cry at all like lol. i had fun but i wasn’t emotional. 

no characters die don’t worry

ruff was PERFECT and everything she did was wnoderful and i LOVE her so much! she got to speak A LOT and she’s all “it’s so tough being this hot” i love you girl, and she’s over eret and is like “wow he missed out” and talks about snotlout and fishlegs which was :///// but the guys don’t do the whole fighting over her thing so that’s! and she’s like “i guess fishlegs but he’s a nerd” and at the end he cries at the wedding and she’s like “wow i guess the sensitive guy wins” so a lot of her stuff was kinda about men ://// but herself was PERFECT and she boops grimmel’s face with the bobble ends of her hair pretending they’re a zippleback. she makes jokes about why is grimmel’s face so long, and her’s is long but WOW does that take the cake. and she says “astrid round face” it was so !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! she’s so good i love her 

rupple does a good job with tuff. the voice difference was noticeable and i kept thinking about it but i think he did well. tuff gets a bunch of speaking parts and he’s super involved with the whole wedding concept and he’s like “haha wow hiccy, a DOES NOT WANT to get married 2 u LOL. which is #tru cause like. she’s a viking warrior queen and you’re well you. you need to shape up. also. be more like me” which i will TAKE i cannot believe tuffstrid is REAL. also now im about 80% convinced hiccup and astrid took a break to see other ppl and tuffstrid fucked. tuff and astrid don’t really interact except for when they leave ruff behind but they KEEP on doing this whole, vibe thing that makes them seem like they’re good friends. like. tuff thinking he knows what astrids want or admires and he actually goes and all his advice/pep talk is like half leg jokes but it’s all good????? tuff has ear piercings, they’re SO on point they look so good, and he’s got rings all over his fingers i love this kid so much he’s so great. he calls his braid his beard and whenever anyone looks a little sad he like, shoves their face into his braid to comfort them.

also tuff says there’s no edge of the world cause actually it’s round like the sun and the moon and stars, even tho stars are dumb. 

i was right fishlegs’ first sentence is basically them all going “wow a nerd” akdshgfkdjghfg. he doesn’t get as much screen time as the others, and most of it is focused on fishmeat, who is ADORABLE and PERFECT. that big moose dragon meets fishmeat at the start and they become bffs and he defends his lil buddy

snotlout’s also not as much screen time, and most of it is him following valka around and being impressed with her and wanting her to say nice things about him. the rest is him getting caught on his cape. valka says nice stuff about eret cause he’s actually good at this planning stuff (except one bit thats played for jokes where snotlout is like “we should spilt up cause *good reasons*” and then eret is like “we should spilt up cause i feel like it” and valka’s all “i trust your instincts!!!!”. it was weird bc it was the only really good tactical decision snotlout made and it gets ignored) and he keeps getting his ego pumped up when he takes what valka says wrong - like she’s being polite, or there’s double meanings and he takes it like he’s good but all he did was get caught on a cage and hung there until hookfang picked him up - and at the end she says “eret maybe brawn, but you’re the brains” and snotlout feels validated again but he doesn’t really deserve it? like idk i wish she said something meaningful. it’s not kind to make someone feel like they’re good at something they’re not. you should encourage him when he’s doing well. 

eret is just kinda. around. doing things. and being like, snotlout’s “rival” for valka’s attention and eret is like. what are you on about lmao

also. i’ve seen some out of context spoilers and they mentioned something being gay but i don’t know where that’s from? snotlout kinda says some great things about eret but it’s a real squint and gobber says eret has the body of a norse god but then he says he does as well and then puts a crick in back when he’s stretching so it’s very clearly a joke and it’s definitely like ‘he’s fat and old and dirty its funny cause he thinks he’s attractive” rather than anything else

hmmMMmmMMMMM god ive forgotten what i’ve talked about and what i haven’t im sure i have more to say but this is already super long os. you can ask me questions if u like. send me an im or something 

[timeisacephalopod]

Oh can you do like an expansion of the Celestiall Peter werewolf Bucky and dragon Tony. Like its Halloween and they're talking about what bullshit it is for people to dress up when any other time they'd be scared of what they go dressed as. I love those 3 together. Oh and a Rhodey cameo!!

I think this means as an extension of a story I wrote for my AO3 awhile ago in which the boys all went to uni and lived in the same house called Bad Habits (were you the person who posted a comment on one of my stories the other day? Anyways). You won’t need the original story for context for this! Just know Tony/ Peter Q/ and Bucky are a thing. This is a long boi, prepare!

*

“Can I use you as a costume?” Peter asks and Bucky glares so hard at him Tony thinks its a wonder he didn’t fall over dead. And Peter wasn’t even talking to Bucky.

“I’m a dragon, not a costume,” he says.

“You know with all those ads about humans not dressing up as caricatures of other cultures someone is really missing the opportunity to also throw out that dressing up as another species is not cool. I don’t look like a single fucking werewolf costume idiot humans sell,” Bucky snaps. Tony and Peter stare at him for a moment, not exactly surprised by the outburst by now.

Turns out he’s sensitive to Halloween as a holiday. “Yeah, so anyways can I use you as a costume?” Peter asks.

“I have had a total of three relationships with humans and all three ran off when I told them I was a werewolf and one of them tried to kill me before running. Then humans have the fucking gall to go out dressed as werewolves? I should eat them out of spite,” Bucky mumbles, glaring at the wall across from him.

“What the hell are you dressing up as to need a dragon?” Tony asks.

“Daenerys from Game of Thrones,” Peter says and Tony rolls his eyes.

“So you want me to be your dragon slave for a night?” he snaps.

Peter sighs, “the dragons like her, Tony. Its not offensive.”

He throws his hands up, “it is so and people think its fine to desecrate an entire species because I’m one of five left in the world and the only one who’s pointing out how ignorant that show is! Dragons don’t have mothers! Wait, yeah they do, but there is no mother of dragons!”

Bucky nods, “see what I mean? You owe him an apology,” Bucky tells Peter, who rolls his eyes theatrically.

“Dude, its a costume. Relax about it.”

Tony and Bucky exchange a look and turn back to Peter. “If you don’t get the hell out of my sight I’m going to light your ass on fire,” Tony tells him.

Peter, true to his being an utter dickhead, turns himself invisible because apparently celestials can do that. “Can I use you as a costume?” he asks, prompting a rather loud growl from Bucky.

*

Luis gives Peter an offended look that has Scott’s eyes going wide as he turns away a little, putting his hand in front of his face in a poor attempt at hiding himself. “That is the rudest shit I ever heard- Scott are you hearing this? You can’t just go up and ask dragons to be costumes, he’s a person, not a prop. All those ads we see about not dressing up as stereotypes of other culture but no one points out dressing up as another species is not cool,” Luis says. He takes a breath and, thankfully, Bucky cuts in before his rant can continue.

“Right? Humans hate werewolves except when they can dress up as them and claim its not offensive because they’re appreciating us or whatever. If you appreciated werewolves than you’d lobby for werewolf rights, not wear an ugly ass fake fur mask!” He shakes his head, clearly pissed off about this.

“Guys, I just want a cool costume,” Peter says, hands in the air a little.

Luis crosses his arms over his chest, “then go make one, you don’t need a dragon to make a cool costume. I’m going as a Dorito- totally inoffensive and also a delicious treat.”

“I’m offended by Doritos,” Peter says because he’s a prick. “They’re gross and taste like cardboard, and also they’re in the shape of triangles, which means they’re the product of the Devil and also the Illuminati.”

Luis turns to Scott like he’s about to give backup, which he doesn’t. “Okay you know what, get out of here with that false equivalence- you finding dumb reasons to be offended is not the same as turning a whole species into a joke for your own amusement while also ignoring the harm that comes to those creatures all for the sake of a dumb joke. Also what the hell kind of Doritos are you eating that taste like cardboard? It is not a Dorito’s fault that you don’t know how to read expiration dates or that you leave them out too long. Things get stale Quill, like your stale ass attitude and I will not tolerate this Dorito slander-”

“Ooookay,” Scott says, “someone needs to take a nap, or do some homework, or binge eat too many Skittles and throw up again. We’ll be out of your hair now,” he says, dragging Luis away.

“What? I am not doing the Skittle thing again- I learned my lesson. Scott, they need my help, humans have to do their part to-” his words are cut off by the basement door slamming shut. Tony snickers, pleased that they decided that in a house full of supernatural creatures maybe a couple humans weren’t a bad plan. Bucky had been worried Scott might try and kill him, Tony has no idea why he focused on Scott though to be fair Luis is about as non-threatening as they come, and Natasha isn’t fond of humans either but they didn’t want to be discriminatory.

Now it turns out that had been a pretty amusing choice thanks to all of Luis’ rants about everything from Romeo and Juliet to Elvish and why it was a difficult language to learn. And, apparently, why dressing up as a supernatural creature was an asshole thing to do

*

Peter looks down at Bucky, walking faithfully by his side while Tony perches on his shoulder. “You two are going to learn that humans aren’t terrible and I’m going to win this bet,” he tells them. Honestly, they both made a such a huge deal out of a fun holiday and also Peter now has the best costume ever even if Daenerys doesn’t have a dire wolf. Bucky still makes a cool piece of show authenticity even if he’s not at all happy of being part of a costume.

Bucky, as if hearing his thoughts, glares up at him. “Don’t look at me like that, humans will love you,” he says, patting Bucky’s head. Bucky growls a little and trots a little ahead of him and Peter leaves him to sulk in peace.

On his shoulder Tony reaches out and smacks him with one of scaly paws and Peter wrinkles his nose. “Don’t be like that,” he tells Tony, who promptly smacks him again. It doesn’t even hurt, like when a cat smacks you, so Peter doesn’t even know what the point of this is.

When they get inside he at least gets the recognition he deserves because hello, he has an actual dragon with his costume. And Bucky is cool also he guesses. “Where did you find a lizard that looks like that?” someone asks, smiling at Tony. He looks unimpressed by this and frankly Peter has to wonder who the hell thinks the average lizard his brown eyes and red and gold scales.

“He’s a dragon,” Peter says.

The girl in front of him snorts, “yeah, I got your costume, but what kind of lizard is he?”

Peter resists the urge to roll his eyes. “No, he’s an actual dragon. Like the species. Kinda small, but being pocket sized makes him easier to cart around all night so,” he says, shrugging. Tony slaps him again, clearly annoyed with the comment on his size but Peter can’t help that Tony fits in the hoods of his sweaters and when he’s not being a dick he thinks being carried around in there is fun.

“Aww, you’re so cute!” she says, reaching out to touch him and Tony, predictably, smacks her hand away. Bucky makes his presence known by shoving himself between Peter and his current companion in what he thinks is a bad attempt to defend Tony but whatever. Peter takes a step back though.

“You don’t pet dragons, oils on human’s skin doesn’t react well to their scales,” he says. At least, he thinks, Tony didn’t decide to start screaming like he usually did when people tried to pet him. And what is with that? He’s a damn lizard, not a cat, you don’t pet lizards. Well okay, some lizards are fine with it but still. 

“Well you got him up there somehow,” she says.

This time he does roll his eyes, “I’m not human.” Being a celestial means he can avoid damaging oils and also that he can work as a heat lamp for Tony. He had tested that on a whim and it worked so that was pretty cool, not that it comes in handy now. 

“Then what are you?” she asks, squinting like she can tell just looking at him. Bucky growls, hackles raised and honestly the question is annoying but not worth the growl. Peter flicks his ear and Bucky whirls on him unimpressed.

“A celestial,” he says.

“The hell is a celestial?” she asks.

He lets out a long sigh, “basically a god. Don’t look at me like that, we can build whole planets if we want to.” His asshole dad had one that was really cool before Peter found out about all his dead siblings. Bucky lets out another annoyed growl and Peter flicks his ear again. Damn werewolves, always so touchy.

“I think your dog is pissed off,” she says and Peter grabs Bucky’s snout before he does something he’ll regret in the morning.

“Not a dog, that’s a werewolf,” he says quickly. Bucky growls and Peter doesn’t let go of his mouth.

Thankfully his companion jumps back a little. “Why the hell would you bring a werewolf in public?” she asks, giving Bucky a panicked look.

Peter rolls his eyes so hard its a wonder they didn’t roll right out the door. “Because he’s a North American werewolf and they’re fucking harmless unless people say dumb offensive shit,” he says. The European brand of werewolf? Nightmare fuel, but they also know how to handle themselves. North American werewolves? Usually non-confrontational and lazy. Also very soft even if they shed a stupid amount of hair everywhere even when human. Peter has made peace with the hair and Tony’s occasional shed scale.

“Dumb offensive shit like what?” she asks. “Everyone knows werewolves eat people.”

Peter yanks Bucky back by the snout, which is probably a little mean but its either that or he eats someone out of spite and he’s going to regret that if he does it. “North American werewolves don’t eat people and even European werewolves will try for a damn deer or some shit first. That’s the dumb offensive shit I mean, along with calling him a dog. What the hell do you think werewolves look like, the shit you see on Teen Wolf?” Because they kind of look like Klingons and Peter kind of feels bad for laughing now but Bucky’s offended face had been so funny.

“Its my fault I didn’t know that,” she says and Peter squints.

“Its in literally every pro werewolf anything ever, if you didn’t know that you didn’t god damn Google it. If you’re going to spout offensive shit at least make it true. Like werewolves leave hair everywhere and yeah, they lick their ass sometimes.” Bucky yanks his muzzle free and gives him a look. “Don’t pull that shit, I’ve seen it happen.”

Bucky looks away, ears pulling back a little in shame. He might not be a dog by any stretch of the imagination but Peter is happy they at least share enough in common that their body language is basically the same, if more advanced in showing emotion in favor of werewolves.

*

Bucky curls up on Peter’s bed with Tony in his fur shivering as he tries to get warm but fur isn’t going to help him so Peter pulls him out, tucking him into his chest as his hands light up. Benefits of having godlike powers- hands that double as heat lamps. Tony stops shivering so hard and Peter sighs. “Okay, you two win. Humans are the worst and I honestly can’t believe I had to tell seven separate people that you can’t just pet dragons.” They didn’t even ask.

Bucky lets out an annoyed noise, lifting his head to glare at Peter. “Sorry so many people called you a dog and said you eat people,” he mumbles. “Mind going to get Tony some fruit? He’s been in the cold awhile.” Bucky slinks off the bed and Peter climbs into it, upping the heat going to his hands to warm Tony up faster.

When Bucky returns he’s carrying an assortment of fruits, “I told you this was a bad idea,” he says and Peter nods.

“Yup. And I didn’t listen like an idiot. I maintain that I had a cool costume until humans off and ruined it by trying to pet Tony though. What is he, a cat?” Bucky snickers as he climbs into bed, shimmying close to Peter. It betrays more than his words- werewolves are tactile creatures and when they’re mad they refuse to touch each other. Its kind of funny to watch them all get mad and avoid contact like they’re all repelled by each other.

Still, if Bucky isn’t avoiding contact he’s not that mad at Peter. “Here,” Bucky says to Tony, extending a grape towards his mouth. Tony takes the grape gleefully, destroying it in seconds. Bucky hands him a strawberry next. “I didn’t know you knew that much about werewolves,” he says as Tony destroys another berry. Jesus he eats those things fast.

“Yeah, I Googled them. Not that hard,” he says. Phrase of the fucking night- he swears he explained the most basic of shit to people like twelve times over.

“The difference between North American werewolves and European werewolves isn’t information that’s easy to find. Most don’t even make a distinction anymore,” Bucky murmurs. He hands Tony some pineapple and Tony pulls his head back. Bucky rolls his eyes and eats it himself, handing Tony a piece of watermelon that he happily takes instead.

“Yeah, because European werewolves were hunted to near extinction during witch trials in Europe. Seems kind of stupid considering it was never werewolves starting genocides and lighting people on fire. Except that one time in South Africa but that didn’t go well,” he says. Bucky frowns and he sighs, “I got stuck in a Googling suck hole. Did the same with dragons. Its how I figured out the hands thing,” he says, jostling Tony a little and earning a sharp yell for it. “Don’t be rude,” he tells Tony.

Bucky moves in closer, wrapping an arm around Peter. “That’s so sweet. Don’t ever convince me to be a Halloween costume again.”

Peter snickers, “next year I’ll let you eat people and Tony can light them on fire then we cal all fuck off to a planet I’ve made,” he says.

Bucky frowns, “can you even do that?”

Peter shrugs, “I’ve got a year to figure it out.”

Bucky looks at Tony, who happily takes another grape from his fingers. “Pretty sure he’ll be fine as long as there’s fruit.”

“Well, considering ninety percent of his diet is fruit yeah, I’d say so. I should try and make new fruit, that would be cool,” he says, grinning. Tony looks up at him, eyes wide with excitement and he laughs. “Guess I have a new botany project.”

“Well, so long as you stop pissing off the neighbors with plants that flip them off,” he says. Rude, Peter thinks those are fun and their neighbors are a bunch of uptight assholes.

[ragnarssons]

Maybe they’re putting off the radio calls talk bc they can’t fully have an emotional talk while he’s still with Eggo. How else will that talk end but with a love confession?? Maybe (trying to be hopeful) just maybe they’ll have a deep talk about the radio calls after he and eggo have parted ways. Which I’m hoping will be no later than episode 3 next season....

Well… maybe but my problem is that it doesn’t work with Jroth who keeps saying that they’re “plATONiccc” and that he’s exploiting their FRIENDSHIP. If they can’t talk about basic “friendship” things because “Bellamy is with Eggo” then at what place is Bellarke, eh?? My biggest problem is the BLATANT hypocrisy between what Jroth says Bellarke is, and what Bellarke actually IS.

Because, if they’re “just friends” then why don’t they talk about it? Why are the radio calls something that was so important at the end of s4, beginning of s5 and then dropped and forgotten middle of the season just to be brought back by Madi just so that it’s all shrugged into a “mehh I forgive youuu” scene for something that has NOTHING to do with the radio calls? If Clarke and Bellamy as friends are “the spine of the show” or “platonic soulmates” why aren’t they able to talk about it, and why the writers think it’s unnecessary for Clarke to adress that she called her best friend every day to stay sane and have someone to confess stuff to?! And if they’re meant to be a opened-door to a romantic confession: WHY is Bellamy having a relationship with Eggo stopped Clarke, eh? I mean, even if she might have been hesitant on ep5 and let’s say after that she decided to take a step back because she saw Bellamy with Eggo and she doesn’t want to come in between: why isn’t the show MORE EXPLICIT about it? Why don’t Bob, Eliza or Jroth talk about it, instead of treating us like we’re crazy people for seeing things this way? Oh yeah Jroth keeps saying “I’m not a love triangle faaan” and yet he keeps putting ingredients and hits and bits of infos here and there that TOTALLY imply a love triangle (I mean, the CLs vs BCs shipwar didn’t happen for NO REASON!). But he never follows through with it (tbh it was exactly the same when Lxa was around: Lxa was jealous of Bellamy on s2 and Bellamy was obviously super focused on Clarke and jealous when she stayed in Polis - UM HELLO EVEN ALIE!RAVEN SAID SO?! - and yet it was too, never explicitely said. Finn was jealous of Bellamy too!). So they’re like “hehe SEE THE HINTS?!” even having characters literally SAYING IT now like Dyioza calling Clarke Bellamy’s girlfriend, the “she is” scene, the “a traitor who you love” scene- but do they follow through? Nooooooooooo they just leave us hanging! And Jroth laughs at our faces and calls us delusionals and props Bleggo while he used so many techniques to tease and bait us with Bellarke over and over again.So yeah, JROTH, actually IF they are friends, then ALLOW THEM TO TALK TO EACH OTHER AS FRIENDS! What couldn’t be seen as Clarke needing nothing more than her best friend in the radio calls?! Not that hard to adress this as a “platonic conversation” so why hasn’t it been adressed?! Because there’s a love confession at the end of this conversation?! Then stop stalling and GIVE IT TO US! Because at this point it’s just ridiculous and as it can be “felt” in this response, it’s SUPER ANNOYING! I’m sorry, since I saw the radio calls as this big tease for SEASON 5 (not season 6, “book 2″ or season 50 ya know?!) I thought it would be adressed on SEASON 5! And it wasn’t! And I’m furious about it because I just can’t help but think that it’s a way for Jroth to swipe it all under the rug because “new planeeeeeeeeeeet” while it was obviously SUPER IMPORTANT to Clarke and to the relationship (platonic or else) of Bellarke. And I’m tired of this show never letting its characters just TALK TO EACH OTHERS! I literally can’t see it happening on s6 because Jroth is a coward and he just took that away from us. Something that we’ve waited for a long time, something that Clarke deserves after 6 years of isolation from her friends. Something that the REAL Bellamy and Clarke; the ones that I love from s1 to s4 would talk about! I don’t care about romantic or not, I just really wanted that conversation, I really wanted that to be an acknowleged part of their relationship, having at least Bellamy knowing that he helped Clarke survive, after years of blaiming himself for “her death” (or leaving her behind). And Jroth ruined it all… s5 Bellarke is just that… ruined.

Having Bellamy and Clarke talk about the radio calls didn’t engage Jroth or the writers to anything. It could have been a totally “friendship platonic” conversation, and yet, they didn’t even have the respect (for their fans that they teased for MONTHS - even having Bob and Eliza say that it would be adressed by the end of the season?! - and for their TWO MAIN CHARACTERS, and supposedly “the spine of the show”) to even do that. When you don’t take the time to allow you female and male leads to talk about their feelings regarding the fact that they’ve been separated and “longing” for each other’s presence (again, platonic or not or whatever) for SIX YEAAAAAAARS (not two days, not several months, SIX F*CKING YEARS!), or not even exploring through conversation their EVOLUTIONS and changes, thus showing the audience that the characters are AT LEAST “catching up” and still caring about each other, then you’re a bad writer. That’s it, simple as that. I’m sorry, it’s simple as that! If I had left a friend to die and thought that friend was dead for six years and suddenly I found out he or she was alive?! I’d want to know EVERYTHING that happened to them! I’d want to catch up, and even with war or whatever, I’d still be by their side and being… CHANGED by the idea that this person is alive and that this miracle allowed me to have a second chance! I’m sorry @ Jroth’s-half-assed-writing, was I supposed to see that on s5 between “bffs” Bellamy and Clarke?! I can’t believe this bullshit writing now even ruined Bellarke, because so far, it was the only thing that wasn’t ruined. I can’t believe I suffered through s5′s bullshit war plot (that was so unnecessary, so stupid, so pointless and sooooooo laaaate into the season!) just to have… NOTHING character-wise too! Looking back at it, that season was EMPTY! At least Octavia kinda saved it because she literally was the only one with a real storyline of her own! Sorry I struggle to be positive about season 6 right now. I don’t like how Jroth is adressing it already, it feels super obvious that he’s really moving forward from s5 so I don’t have faith in him to bring back the radio calls. Because 1) they NEVER give time for the characters to talk and 2) Jroth has a pretty “non-continuing” vision of his story. It’s like some characters have the ability to totally change and forget things from one season to another (and it’s gotten worse since s3…). So yeah, I kinda need to expect at this point (and prepare myself to this idea), that season 6 will be “PLOT PLOT PLOT PLOOOOOOOOT” and that’s it. And bleggo cuddling on a beach. Oh, joy, I’m so glad I kept watching this far.

[bigskydreaming]

You will never catch me saying a single positive thing about some ‘progressive move’ Marvel editorial makes in an X-Men comic until every single decision maker of the past ten years is out of those offices.

Individual writers, yes. Editorial, the ones handing down the creative mandates? Hell no.

This means Northstar and Kyle’s wedding, Bobby, Rictor and Shatterstar’s outings, Storm’s solo series, etc, etc.

Because Marvel editorial does not actually give a single fuck about any of the messages embodied by the X-Franchise, and spent the last ten years proving it.

Marvel as a company was happy to profit off the X-Men movies after they sold the rights to save themselves from bankruptcy. But from the second Iron Man became a success and the movies they churned out featuring characters they still had all the rights to started making profits they got to keep fully, they actively torpedoed the X-Men franchise both in the comics and outside of them. Because now the X-Men were technically competition, at least in the arena of movies, which is where the real money was being made.

Like, it seriously pains me to remember how HUGE X-Men fandom was in the eighties, nineties and early 2000s. Across the comics, various cartoons and the movies, X-Men was one of THE biggest fandoms, back when the fandom juggernauts of today like SPN, HP and the like were still wee baby fandoms. 

And Marvel actively, deliberately killed it. Because they didn’t want people focusing on X-Men characters and reading X-Men stories and buying X-Men action figures instead of Avengers ones. It’s why they made no effort to resolve the issues blocking Wolverine & the X-Men from getting a second season. Even though the first season got ratings that more than justified a followup that would be guaranteed to be profitable for them. And why there hasn’t been another X-Men cartoon since. Even though Marvel always held the rights to make more cartoons while Fox held the movie rights.

It’s why Marvel editorial set out to do House of M and Decimation...those storylines aimed at essentially ending the possibility of new mutant characters were created specifically to do that. They literally did not want new mutant characters that might end up being breakout hits that fans wanted more of in place of more Iron Man, Captain America or Avengers-related properties like Young Avengers. Quesada, the EIC at the time, said it was because writers were getting too lazy with their origin stories as long as they had the concept of mutants to fall back on. All they had to do with a new character was say ‘oh they’re a mutant’ instead of coming up with a unique angle for where they got their powers.

Except then Marvel turned around and reconfigured Inhumans into the new mutants, tweaking their decades old concept to make it so suddenly there was no limit to how many new Inhumans could be created, unlike the limit they’d imposed on new mutant characters. And suddenly you had dozens of new characters with electricity powers and flight and super strength and shapeshifting and who looked no different in any meaningful way from any new mutant character introduced ten, fifteen years prior...except now, all of those dozens of new characters ‘unique angle for where they got their powers’ was oh, they’re Inhumans instead of oh they’re mutants. 

And it wasn’t even like Marvel made Inhumans the new mutants because they had active, important plans to incorporate their concept into their live action universe....again, it LITERALLY was done simply to make the X-Men franchise less necessary. They pushed the Inhumans movie back year by year by year until finally scrapping it altogether, and put barely any effort into the TV show they made of it instead. The only evidence of Inhumans in the MCU is still just in Agents of SHIELD, the show they barely do any promo for and honestly don’t care all that much about. The Inhumans’ sole purpose over the past ten years has basically just been to be an alternative to mutants, should anyone want one....not even BECAUSE the MCU actually wanted one.

And then you had shitty events like Avengers vs X-Men where it was never in question that it was going to be at the X-Franchise’s expense. And in the aftermath of that, they claimed to be making a big push to incorporate the X-Men more into the Marvel universe, do stories showing that the other heroes cared about mutant issues.....all by folding the X-Men into Avengers titles. Books like Uncanny Avengers were launched, with X-Men on lineups with Avengers and calling themselves Avengers....but no new X-books were launched with Avengers in their stories. Because that was never the point. The point was that it basically got X-readers who didn’t give a shit about Avengers comics to pick up Avenger titles in order to read about Storm and Rogue and other favorites....without marketing having to acknowledge the X-brand label in any actual way. Literally just to use X-characters to sell Avengers books, without actually doing anything for the X-franchise.

Not to mention the way the X-franchise’s direction has dramatically shifted every one, two years over the past decade, with no clear oversight or shepherding of it....because it basically became the place for writers to do whatever the hell they wanted, because Marvel as a company DID NOT CARE what happened with the X-books. All the terribly thought out storylines to appear in X-titles of the last decade happened because pretty much any pet project a writer Marvel valued wanted to try out got the green light for them to do in the X-books, because they didn’t have anything they wanted out of the X-brand, other than for it to not siphon fans away from their preferred properties. So you had things going one way one year and then pull a complete 180 the next year when a hot new writer at Marvel wanted to do something completely different. 

Not to mention the way Marvel’s consistently funneled their low-selling writers into writing X-books, except for when high profile writers wanted on an X-title. The X-books became a testing ground for new and unproven writers, which occasionally did result in some good stories, yes, but I don’t really think Marvel deserves props for the efforts of those writers when they only got to do those stories because Marvel didn’t actually care. 

And the most obnoxious thing about all of this is....they were still making money off the X-Men the whole time. From their comics, from repeated viewings of their older cartoons, from toy sales, etc. The X-Men have continued to turn a profit for Marvel even as Marvel actively drove them into the ground....because as long as it wasn’t ever going to be AS MUCH profit as Marvel could make off the movies of characters they had all the rights to....they didn’t want the X-Men ever even potentially overshadowing the Avengers in current readers’ eyes.

So it honestly pains me to see Marvel given any credit whatsoever for various progressive moves they’ve made with X-characters over the past decade. Because while all companies are in it to make money and I don’t expect otherwise, I can’t think of any other occasion where I’ve so clearly watched a company spit on one of its most profitable and iconic properties and all its fans, for the crime of....making money. They literally crashed and burned the franchise with full knowledge of what they were doing, and actively drove away one of the biggest fandoms out there, turning it into a wasteland compared to what it was, because the well established success and visibility of the X-franchise and fandom was in their eyes a threat to the MCU franchise and fandom they were trying to cultivate instead.

And given that on a meta level, the X-Franchise has always appealed more than most to readers from marginalized communities because of the allegories inherent in its core concept....its honestly kinda insulting whenever I’d see mainstream headlines and news stories giving Marvel editorial kudos for a high-profile gay wedding or making a founding X-Man gay or other well-received moves over the last decade....knowing full well how little regard they actually have for the readers those moves mean so much to, given that pretty much every other decision they make around it is meant to keep the X-Franchise from overtaking the Avengers in popularity again.

Like, don’t get me wrong because Bobby Drake has been one of my three favorite superheroes of all time for most of my life, in part BECAUSE I always read him as gay or bi.....so I love love LOVE that he’s officially a mlm in canon and has gotten his own solo series. But at the same time, its obnoxious as hell to be aware that people have been speculating about his sexuality for decades and making references in canon even, and outing him only actually happened BECAUSE he’s an X-character. You notice that for all the positive praise Northstar’s wedding and Bobby’s coming out garnered Marvel, they haven’t been in any rush to make a high profile Avenger gay, have they? Like....yes, the X-franchise has always been the franchise to make social commentary in, but that doesn’t mean that’s the only reason big creative alterations like making one of the oldest Marvel characters gay was only happening in the franchise Marvel didn’t give a fuck about.

So it’ll be interesting to see what happens in the comics now that the X-Men movie rights are back with Marvel and under the Disney umbrella. And I do hope and think that means the comic books will start to get a more cohesive direction again with the X-Men taking more pivotal roles in the comics and getting higher profile treatment again.

But fuck ever giving any of the current Marvel editorial staff credit or recognition for any progressive stories in the X-books. Because they very much do not care about the concept of the X-Men or the messages the X-Franchise is capable of sending with its stories. You can’t dedicate ten years to actively minimizing the franchise that means so much to marginalized readers and still claim to actually give a crap about any of the representation that franchise provides for those readers. Like, lol, you just can’t. 

[snkpolls]

SnK Chapter 98 Poll Results

The chapter 98 poll closed with a record 1,771 responses. Thank you to everyone for participating. 

  RATE THE CHAPTER (1,711 RESPONSES)

If you disliked this chapter, you were very much in the minority. Only 1% of respondents rated it poorly. Satisfaction with recent Marley chapters have been generally positive, but this is the highest rating since we started the poll.

This chapter was so fire I had to call 911 after I read it

Goddamned life ruining basements.

Sadly, SNK is eventually going to end, and having taken the time to properly explain its unique universe and its characters will that day leave to this world the completed masterpiece it has the potential to be

I gasped during the "I'm Dr. Yeagar'" scene, but I almost threw my phone from excitement from the "Hey, it's been 4 years huh Reiner." I was one of the people that thought I wouldn't care for the young Warriors, but damn, this chapter won me over. Especially Falco. The awesome character building scenes, the mystery behind Tybur & Magath, the attitude's of the vet Warriors, and Eren's new shred of awesomeness made this one of my favorite chapters.

Magath is still making me wet with his humanity, Willy needs a hug and some Hellos D, I can't believe the East Sea Clan is actually a thing (eeeek) and if Falco gets hurt I will die. Also where's Annie.

I think the entire chapter could be my favorite moment.

Willy and Magath vs Levi for clean house?

When Jaegerbowl became SUPER JAEGER BROTHERS, GET HYPE EVERYBODY

  ON THE SUPREME CUTENESS SCALE OF 10-10 HOW CUTE WAS ALL OF THIS??? (1,721 Responses)

Because of our own intense fangirling after reading this chapter, we had to lead off the poll with something fun. Thankfully most didn’t mind and agreed with us that this chapter was packed with supreme cuteness.

Remember when attack on titan was dark? Now it's all rainbows and unicorns. Jk, I loved this chapter.

   ON THE BEST DAD SCALE OF 420-10 HOW GREAT WAS REINER??? (1,721 Responses)

It’s also nice to see that 84% of us agree that Papa Reiner was just awesome! 275 people disagreed, including one commenter below.

Reiner accompanying the kids at the festival was SOOO DAMN CUTE

Reigner is my favourite moment every chapter.

This chapter was great. Seeing daddy Reiner was one of the sweetest moments in SNK

This may be an unpopular opinion but Reigner honestly feels like the least interesting character in the whole arc. We have all these shiny new characters that are in desperate need of character development and all we keep getting is more and more Reigner. Reigner this, Reigner that, Isayama is starting to sound like a bunch of Bertholdts. Where is the love for Colt, Porco, Ms Exactly Right, Theo and more? Grim Reminder 2.0 also needs to happen fast.

this one salty anon saying reiner is the least interesting character of marley are you in your right mind or are your standards simply just low

  THERE WERE SO MANY GREAT MOMENTS THAT WE’RE GONNA BREAK ‘EM INTO TWO QUESTIONS. BATCH ONE IS THE SWEET THINGS. WHICH OF THESE MOMENTS MADE YOU SMILE THE MOST? (1,720 Responses)

I love how difficult it was for people to choose a best moment. “Reiner as Marley’s Best Dad and ATM” eked out the number one slot by just 1 vote. “All of the above” was second and Falco’s near confession was a distant third.

Reiner awkwardly avoiding eye contact with Galliard.

Eren spending one month undercover by disguising himself as Sad Keanu

Porco being low-key supportive of Falco and the parallels it draws with his own life/relationship with Reiner.

Falco's proud face when he guides Reiner to the basement.

  BATCH TWO ARE THE SERIOUS THINGS. WHICH OF THESE MOMENTS MOST CAUGHT YOUR ATTENTION? (1,718 Responses)

Basement Reveal 2.0 was our favorite moment. Twenty-four percent of the fandom couldn’t pick just one, making “All of the above” the number two selection. Eren meeting his grandfather and the mysterious Asian women round out the third and fourth pick.

When Reiner Meets Eren

The asian woman is about on par with basement 2 electric boogaloo but i could only pick one so im cheating a bit pls dont be angry

While you've mentioned all the moments that stood out most to me, I can say I definitely appreciated the variety of races drawn as they were distinct, reasonable designs. All in all, these are all awesome moments, it's hard to pick favorites in this chapter.

  DID YOU HAVE A FAVORITE MOMENT WE FAILED TO MENTION? (237 Responses)

You can sense the excitement for a chapter when 237 people take the time to gush in the comments section. If you want to read them all, you’ll need to visit the full poll results but here are a few.

Zeke's three-level comment about being a big brother (works for Colt, Porco and Zeke himself), also Zeke playing catch with Colt and Eren playing with Zeke's ball.

Eren basically slamming that baseball right in his gorgeous face is kinda one of the best moments!?!?

PORCO SMILING AT FALCO'S VICTORY

Gabi waking up. Those panels were so detailed on her face, I'm worried that little Gabi is waving her death flags. I almost had a heart attack because I thought for a second she was Mikasa when I first read through.

Gabi's relationship with Udo and Zofia and the "devil" line

Cory in the house finally meeting the fresh prince of bel-air

black people being not so stereotypical. they just looked like people, not over-cheerful big lipped afro hair stereotype or anything like that

The attitude and mystery of that old asian woman

  SEVERAL CHARACTERS HAD THEIR SASS GAME ON STRONG. WHO DID IT BEST? (1,718 Responses)

Eren’s “Good to see you made it back home” was declared the  sassiest line by a significant majority. Sassmaster Pieck was second with her slam about entrusting the Paradis operation to four kids. My personal favorite was Porco’s hugely sarcastic “We have some awfully bright officials leading us”, but only 5% agreed with me.

While “Good to see you made it back home” was the winner, it wasn’t without controversy. I saw several comments on Reddit and Tumblr from people who thought that Eren wasn’t being sassy when he said them. It’s possible I suppose, but unless a lot of has changed in the last four years, I find it hard to believe he was being sincere.

  WITH ALL THE NEW CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT, IT’S TIME TO ASK AGAIN. WHO IS YOUR FAVORITE OF THE NEW KIDDOS? (1,701 Responses)

Perfect little bean Falco wins by a landslide! Was there every any doubt? Gabi is far more polarizing but has maintained a loyal fanbase. She came in second with 16.9%. Zophia received 133 votes (7.8%). Colt received 98 votes (5.8%). The wine-spilling, multi-lingual, “not from around here” Udo received the fewest votes with 76 (4.5%).

Falco's smile, I just want to hug him as if he were my little brother/cousin ^^

Falco cemented his status as a cinammon roll. I'd hate for him to get toasted in the next chapter, considering what's about to go down in the basement!

Gabi's ego is charming.

CUTE ZOPHIE

Udo is the most precious kid and I love him a lot and if he dies, I die. (I keep saying this about all my faves but it's true.)

  ON A SCALE FROM 1-5 (1=STILL CAN’T STAND ‘EM; 5=DAMMIT I GOT SUCKED IN), HAS THE NEW CAST WON YOU OVER? (1,717 Responses)

Isayama deserves mad props for introducing a brand new cast and gradually making us care about them. More than 65% of us now have strong feelings for the Warriors and candidate kiddos .

Pieck. Just Pieck.

I can't believe I got sucked into Marley. This chapter just solidified my new found affection for 90% of the Marley characters, and even though I do miss the main cast I'm totally fine with more Marley chapters! Gabi went from hate to fave in a heartbeat. I must be sick? Not to mention all the pokkopikku moments... Honestly I'm in love with SNK all over again. RIP Me.

I used to not be very fond of the warrior cadets, but this chapter just filled me with love for those kids. My only problem is that I KNOW Isayama is trying to get me to sympathize with them before ultimately crushing my soul and having something terrible happen  :(

I still hate all the kids, but Reiner has got some brownie points with me now.

ANY THOUGHTS ON WHAT WILLY'S "SINGLE ANSWER" IS? (1,685 Responses)

Our single answer to Willy’s single answer is that we are all over the place with ideas. A slim majority believe that Willy is going to propose a genocide starting in Liberio, but there were almost 100 write ins with other options. Here are a few.

Definitely the elimination of Paradis

I think he found a way to turn even non-Eldians into titans and he will try to create some sort of balance of terror.

I think he'll give a long winded speech, and just when he's about to lay it all out, *loud boom* *lightning* Grim Reminder part 2

A possible solution for all of this is Eren eating all shifters and sealing himself in a crystal, like Annie, forever. We still haven't seen if Annie has aged inside the crystal or not though. I wonder if this is Willy's solution.

Someone will kill him before he tells the answer

High School Eldian Musical

I dunno.  But it sure as hell ain't anything good, that's for sure.  Just what are you up to, you slippery snake?

I have no idea but I'm 300% convinced that the Tiber family was in contact with the Reiss one the whole time (remember the "Armored - Braun" vial Rod Reiss had? That was Reiner's spinal fluid and how the frick frack it ended inside the Walls??). I think that will play a big role in whatever Willy Billy is planning to do.

I'd say gather Loki and the Avengers to obtain the nine titan powers, using it to control the the Eldians who'll win over foreign leaders and defeat Marley, then proceed to turn on said ambassadors as well as the Eldians they're controlling.

Destroy all perceptions that Eldians are the only ones who can turn titans and use the ambassadors as an example, bringing chaos

Dunno how plausible this is but...maybe he knows how to get rid of the Eldians's capacity to turn into titans, and that's his single answer ?

Either kill all non-Eldians or gain the coordinate and somehow mindwipe all Eldian and non-Eldians alike somehow. Or something idk. I just feel like mindwiping will come into play. Either that or unite Marley and Eldia and ally with the Asians and fight against literally the rest of the world.

Final solution, Willy Hitler

"We will allow the Paradisians to live in peace if they can win a game of baseball against our best team: The Warriors."

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

  DO YOU THINK WILLY WILL ULTIMATELY BE THE BIG BAD OF THE SERIES? (1,710 Responses)

“Willy or wont he” be the big bad of the series? Gray morality wins. But whatever Willy has planned is making a large number of us uncomfortable.

This chapter made me feel really uneasy. Willy Tyber is throwing me off, and I'm really nervous for whatever he has planned next chapter. I feel like this was almost too good, too sweet, too happy. Something big is about to happen, I can feel it, and I know Tyber's gonna be at the center of it. I don't trust him, and I love that this chapter made me feel something this strongly. 

I feel like Willy's "If only the titans didn't exist" was a giveaway. Willy will try to remove all titan powers, either by killing all Eldians (he should know that's gonna be hard to accomplish), or by collecting all titan powers and locking it up idk how. But genocide is not out of the question. He might do it, but even if he does, I don't think I'll really see him as your typical "villain."

Well, damn guys... What if Willy's not even the bad guy, huh? He has shady plans of his own, no doubt... But to just say he's seeking genocide is too far fetched, in my honest opinion. Yes, I don't have a clue as to what he's going to do, but I'm not ready to label him a murderer yet. Maybe I just got charmed by that "Thor-like" haircut, but to me it seemed like he genuinely felt bad for closing his eyes on the treatment of Eldians, and wanted to change that. Of course, Paradis could be the scapegoat, but I don't know about that either. Oh well... We have to wait and see, I guess...

  WHO DO YOU THINK MAGATH'S INFORMANTS ARE THAT LET HIM KNOW ABOUT THE EXISTENCE OF "MICE IN THE HOUSE"? (1,678 Responses)

Eren, Pieck, P A T H S and Colt received the most write-in votes (in that order), but the majority believe we haven’t met the person spying on the inside for Magath.

I didn't understand what they meant by this when I first read it, and I barely still know after reading it again after reading this question.

I wanted to say the SC being spies, but I really think it's either other countries' spies or just mean other countries' leaders/elites had arrived.

It would be interesting character-wise for Magath if he discovered Zeke was legitimately (I have my doubts) conspiring with Eren/Paradis. Magath could be more grey, should he prosecute Zeke, keep it to himself, or join in.

Probably some competent high-ranking Marleyan soldier but the ultimate plot-twist would be Pieck (imagine Zeke being the one snitched out by his most trusted warrior)

Zeke. If Zeke's working with Eren (and not just talking to him but actually helping him), then I think it's possible that Zeke's sort of double-crossing Magath. He could act like he's interested in cleansing Marley by ridding it of the "mice," or he's simply acting interested in Magath and Willy's plan so as to get inside info on what they're up to.

  DO YOU THINK EREN HAS BEEN CORRESPONDING WITH ZEKE? (1,714 Responses)

The baseball glove was proof positive for 86.1% of the fandom.

I wonder if Zeke realizes that it's Eren with whom he's communicating? He only saw Eren once, when his glasses were off, so even if they met in person, I'm not sure he'd recognize Eren.  Eren could be hiding his true identity from Zeke to avoid being stabbed in the back for the coordinate.

  DO YOU THINK ZEKE AND EREN ARE WORKING TOGETHER? (1,711 Responses)

The majority say yes!

We should ask Pieck if Zeke is working with Eren... Because Pieck is exactly right.

Zeke has no side. He is with Eren but he will also rat him out to Magath.

  DID ZEKE KNOW THAT EREN WAS IN THE BASEMENT AT THE FESTIVAL? (1,708 Responses)

Zeke looked at his watch and gave Falco permission to escort Reiner to the basement despite it being almost time for the program to begin. That, plus the baseball glove, is enough to convince 72.5% of us that Zeke was in on the Reiner/Eren reunion.

  DO YOU THINK A REZ (REINER, EREN, ZEKE) ALLIANCE IS GONNA HAPPEN? (1,708 Responses)

We were a little more divided here. Most are convinced Zeke and Eren are working together but they are less confident that Reiner will join them.

He doesn't forgive but does work with reigner and zeke.

I can see Eren working together with Zeke or actually manipulating and using him, while Zeke thinks he's his pure cinnamon roll brother. But I don't think a Reiner/Eren alliance will work. Like why would Reiner want to help Eren? Why would Isayama want to fucking ruin Bertolt's life after his dead even more?

I hope Reiner and Eren will be good boys and won't fight. I also hope November will come quickly.

I'm dying to know WHY Eren gave away his presence to Reiner. like WHY take such a risk omg. I gotta read the next chapter asap!!!!

  DO YOU THINK EREN IS OPERATING ALONE OR WITH SC PERMISSION? (1,717 Responses)

My personal feeling are in the #2 red zone here. More than half the fandom feels that Eren’s appearance in Marley is fully sanctioned by the Survey Corps.

If Eren really had gone rogue & left Paradis, that means Paradis are one 1 shifter less so more reason for them to recruit Annie as Eren's replacement

Why would they send Eren of all people to Marley? Eren is very well known as a person who can't easily control his emotions, and someone who isn't very good at acting. Just look how bad he did in the Stohess Arc. If he was the only person who could regenarate limbs, I'd understand. But why not send Armin? He has shown to be much better than Eren in both acting and manipulating people. He was also shown to have some slight understanding of Reiner's feelings, so why not him? How could they trust the most emotional person on the team? Has Eren really changed that much?

  TIME SKIP EREN SEEMS VERY DIFFERENT FROM HIS 15 YEAR OLD SELF, MAYBE COLDER, CERTAINLY MORE IN CONTROL OF HIS EMOTIONS. WHERE DO YOU THINK EREN NOW LANDS ON THE MORALITY SCALE? IS HE STILL “ONE OF THE GOOD GUYS”? (1,710 Responses)

This poll result surprised me. On the far extremes, 253 people think Eren is a cinnamon roll while 52 individuals categorize him as essentially scum of the earth. The majority seem to be taking a “wait and see attitude” about his intentions.

"Eren is the same old cinnamon roll"  .......Since when has Eren "I will destroy all titans/murder these rabid dogs masquerading as humans/make sure your death is the most painful possible" Yeager been a cinnamon roll?  Sin-amon roll, maybe.  But even that's kinda a stretch.

I think he: is older and wiser, has a better understanding of the world (and how cruel and unfair it is, I think he's kind of emo) and the memories are affecting him somewhat.

war changes a man

This kid has seen some shit. I don't doubt he's haunted as hell. And that's pretty haunted.

  IF EREN IS ACTING DIFFERENTLY, WHAT HAS INFLUENCED HIM THE MOST? (1,715 Responses)

Close to 60% of respondents believe the influence of Kruger and Grisha’s memories have made Eren a changed man. Basic maturity was the second pick with 30%. In third place, 6.6% of respondents think he hasn’t changed and believe that Eren’s cold demeanor is only an act.

A lot of things have changed Eren, starting from him losing his family and friends, seeing the titans,fighting them and discovering the truth about them, his father and his half-brother. Also seeing the state the Marleys and Eldians are now. So a lot of things have changed Eren and turned him into who he is now.

All except 'he hasn't changed' but I do think the memories had the most affect. Hell after he got those memories he didn't even care about the ocean anymore. I think he realized that there was no freedom inside the walls or outside of them. Which basically made his original goal to 'break humanity out of its cage and eliminate all the titans' meaningless. Really sad honesty.  

All of the coordinate boys get chill eventually

Blurrier moral realization combined with his dwindling lifespan

If we remember the kind if shit he went through it's only natural to assume that he changed. Just like Reiner, all his childhood dreams and goals were shattered to pieces when he saw the bigger picture.

Revenge against the people who genocides our folks generally do that to you.

depression's a bitch

He's coming more dickhead than before that's all

HE'S CHANGED GIVEN THE GARBAGE CIRCUMSTANCES

Marley pizza. That shit is life-changing. Reiner can testify.

  IF EREN’S ACTIONS BRING HARM TO THE WARRIORS OR CANDIDATES (FALCO OR PIECK, FOR INSTANCE), WOULD THIS IMPACT YOUR FEELINGS ABOUT HIM NEGATIVELY? (1,703 Responses)

I suppose the bottom line here is that the fandom likes the new kids, but they like Eren better. This is war and people get hurt. A slim majority will not hold it against Eren if his actions hurt the warriors or warrior candidates.

If Eren manipulated Falco and doesn't care about him, I will cry.

I LOVE REINER BRAUN AND EREN BETTER LEAVE HIM AND ALL THE OTHER MARLEYAN WARRIORS AND CANDIDATES ALONE

Can we discuss that all the Jaegers are probably ruining the lives of the Grice family? Grisha with the original, Zeke playing Colt, Eren adopting Falco... Poor kiddos.

PROTECT FALCO AT ALL THE COSTS

  HOW BADLY DO YOU WANT TO RETURN TO THE ORIGINAL CAST ON PARADIS? (1,712 Responses)

No matter how much we enjoy the current chapters, these poll numbers barely change. A significant portion of the fandom remains desperate to see the main cast.

Although a few fans are impatient to see the SC, I enjoy to see that Isayama is taking is time and is not rushing this part.

I still want the series to bring back the Paradis cast while staying in Marley. I have the feeling things are about to kick into overdrive next chapter, with the landmark chapter 100 incoming, and I'd love it if the finale remained in Marley while having the whole cast there. Have Paradis left for flashbacks/explanations and the epilogue, the mainland's a perfect staging ground for the end of this.

I swear to Ymir if we leave Marley in this cliffhanger there will be riots

I want the 104th back.

With the reveal of the Asian clan symbol (FINALLY), I strongly feel as though Mikasa and the rest of the Survey Corps are going to show up really soon. I expect them to finally return on issue #100, but on next month's issue would be even better!

ISAYAMA-SAN PLEASE SHOW TIME-SKIP LEVI.

  WHICH CHARACTERS DO YOU GENERALLY ENJOY THE MOST? (1,714 Responses)

RIP my beloved Vets :(

  WHERE DO YOU PRIMARILY DISCUSS THE SERIES? (1,695 Responses)

  ANY OTHER CHAPTER THOUGHTS YOU'D LIKE TO SHARE?

Hajime Isayama blowing my mind

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGG *screams into the abyss*

With tgis new infomation its more liekly that the marleyans have sour cream

He [Willy] will tell the real story of how the titans came into existence, and by fusing all nine titan powers together you get the same powers as the original Ymir Fritz had so you can do some voodoo shit and "cure" all Eldians of their curse. Everyone gets to live happily ever after, oh, and Levi opens up his tea shop.

I really liked the scene with Eren playing with the baseball. He looked so calm

I really enjoyed the entire chapter. It felt like a break but it revealed a ton. I am so eager to keep reading.

P A T H S

Reiner looks so handsome in his uniform >.>

RIP Reiner's wallet

The Asian woman I need to know more

I appreciated the worldbuilding in this chapter. The festival scene in particular showed how big the scale was compared to Paradis. Leaning Eldians lived in other parts of the world and not only Marley, puts things into perspective about their goals. If Paradis is submitted, other Eldians would melt in the population slowly but surely. The REZ alliance or whatever its' called, is completely bull: Zeke isn't going to team up with someone going against his plans. Also Eren didn't mature. He still shares the same goal, but he became way more cunning about it thanks to Kruger and Grisha's memories. He inherited their democratic skills and would gladly use them against Reiner. He never forgave Reiner and isn't going to forgive him. Since Bert died and Shiganshina was rebuild, that alleviated his rage, but he feels like he has to take Reiner down.

It's not so much this chapter sucked, it's just that I'm so sick ok Marley, so I couldn't enjoy it that much

On a serious note, finding out that Grandad Yeager is also a trauma patient at the hospital was heart-breaking. But it makes sense: both of his children are dead and his grandson Zeke is due to "pass on his powers" (die) soon too. I wonder what he'll do if he finds out that Eren is his grandson too, is also a Titan AND has the Founding Titan power? Uh oh! Also worth happy screeching about: That symbol on the back of the Asian lady's kimono. That had to be a deliberate reveal? Is that the symbol of the East Sea Clan from whom Mikasa is descended from and will she reveal that symbol on her wrist?! Last but not least, Reiner gets his own basement reveal and Eren is in there!

The cult of reigner has affected the typesetters i must now retire to the forest where i will live as a hermit with the treefolk only coming out once a month to read the mangastream translation this is my vow so help me god and may the lord be my witness

I know I say this every month, but man is next chapter gonna be a doozy! Eren and Reiner finally meeting is going to stir up some feelings and arguments.

Is Willy going to let the cat out of the bag about the Tyburs being the power behind the leaders of Marley? Will the play be the true history of what happened after the Titan War?

With the reveal of the Asian clan symbol (FINALLY), I strongly feel as though Mikasa and the rest of the Survey Corps are going to show up really soon. I expect them to finally return on issue #100, but on next month's issue would be even better!

I think Willy is actually plotting to overthrow the Marleys and bring power to the Eldians Maybe he's joined forces with Eren and Zeke and we still don't know. I think he wants to restore the Eldian race.

I hope we get to know more about the actual history of "The Subjects of Ymir", perhaps in the form of a theatrical play on that stage. Where do people get this genocide thing from, only from the Nazi parallels? If Willy were planning it, then why did he talk about how the whole world wants exactly that to happen and how he thought up a solution to this problem? Really sounds like he's got something entirely DIFFERENT up his sleeve, and I guess it's got something to do with how Ymir created titans in the first place.

Is Willy going to let the cat out of the bag about the Tyburs being the power behind the leaders of Marley? Will the play be the true history of what happened after the Titan War?

Pieck and Porco are ALWAYS together what's up with that and also we never see Zeke's eyes in this chapter

Zhophia is a Annie relative, Udo is Naruto's son too (Boruto's brother).

Eren meeting Reiner has me so FUCKING HYPED for the next chapter that I so anxious for November. Isayama you damn torturer!!!!

Zeke is a majestic beast leaping for that ball.

Eren meeting Reiner has me so FUCKING HYPED for the next chapter that I so anxious for November. Isayama you damn torturer!!!!

99/100 hype is real

[praesidioest]

Gladnis Week - Day 3

for @gladnisweek​

Day 3 - Gladio and Ignis get tricked by Prompto and Noct into going on a date

Chapters: 3/7 Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia, gladnis Additional Tags:  Canon Divergent AU, fluff, domestic, slice of life, domestic angst, jfc can they kiss already (no never), slow burn, iono man Summary:   Gladio and Ignis get tricked by Prompto and Noct into going on a date. A bad time is had by all.

AO3 link: here!

“What if we went to—”

“Don’t say Dorsia,” Ignis snapped, his hand immediately clamped over Gladio’s mouth to preclude the possibility that he would.

The two held a tense moment, sat tangled on Gladio’s couch, the metronomic tick-tock of the clock on the wall marking the moments during which Gladio watched for every nuance of displeasure in Ignis’s face, aimed very pointedly at him. When finally the silence had dragged on too long, sure that Gladio would comply, Ignis had raised a brow in menacing question before letting his hand fall away from its occupation.

“Why not Dorsia?” Gladio blurted out, as soon as he was free to, and precisely because he was not at liberty to. “I’ve heard you mention their menu more than once. And that whole—” He gestured frantically here. “Just kinda seems like your scene.”

Plans for their six month anniversary always started with enthusiastic intentions to make arrangements, but often devolved into half-hearted suggestions of restaurant venues, which then turned into somewhat heated discussions of little relevance to their topic at hand, and ultimately resulted in no decision made. Exhaustion on Ignis’s part was sometimes to blame, or hungry irritation on Gladio’s, genuine inability to think of any passable suggestion in the moment, or sometimes the distraction of each others’ lips or hands or suggestive whispers that ended in decidedly unproductive exploits. And the closer they came to the date, the more distinct the tension of expectation grew, the more desperate the need to finally hammer something out.

Ignis gave a sharp sigh of irritation. “Firstly, it would be impossible to make a reservation this close to the date—”

Gladio’s face screwed up in disbelief. “You don’t think we can’t pull a few strings? As Crownsguard?”

“Secondly,” Ignis continued loudly, ignoring his question as though it were too absurd to acknowledge (it wasn’t, entirely). “I believe they, as a reputable establishment, would have a strict ‘No Shirt, No Shoes, No Service’ policy in place that I’m sure you’ll flout spectacularly, so I rather don’t see the point.”

Gladio threw up his hands in exasperation, slumping petulantly down into the cushions of his sofa. “Gods, I’d put on a proper shirt if we went somewhere nice, Ignis. I’m not a caveman.”

“Tell me that next time we make love,” Ignis quipped flatly, without missing a beat.

Gladio sat bolt upright, a facetious menace to his voice. “That’s it! We’re broken up for the rest of the day,” proclaimed, smacking a pillow for emphasis. “Tryn’a be productive here, there is no need to be giving me the business …”

It had been a half a year now, spent together in an impossible idyll between them. There were times it seemed to them that they were so comfortable around each other they might have been together for years. Other times when the novelty still surprised them, caught them unawares, left them stupid and giddy like they were the boys they once were when they first fell in love.

In spite of Gladio’s enthusiasm to espouse all the commonplace conceits of dating (dinner dates and movie nights, the pride of being able to publically call Ignis his own, emphasised by the occasional but healthy smattering of some truly repulsive overwrought public displays of affection), he’d come to terms with Ignis’s preference for secrecy in the matter, and eventually came to prefer it. No one meddling, not having to worry about anyone else’s opinions on their private relationship, no scrutiny under watchful eyes that inhibited and undermined them. Was it wise, for the Sword and Shield to commiserate? Would it compromise their commitment, their devotion to their offices, to Noctis? Questions that had every right to be posited, given the significance of their jobs, but unnecessary and unpleasant to address, in both their estimations. It was nice, therefore, having something that was clandestine and private, and all their own. So they kept it that way.

Keeping it a secret from Noctis and Prompto had been difficult, though, as neither of them were the sort to have any proclivity for deception. But it became a sort of poorly-played game to them, wherein Gladio would slip and say something suggestive, which Ignis would then have to shut down, and the two would have to pretend to be mad at each other. Ignis would sometimes be so convincing that he’d need to spend a fair amount of time petting the bewildered Gladio later that night. Ignis, therefore, was adept in the art of soothing Gladio’s hurt feelings, a skill which he utilized now, with dazzling aplomb.

“Broken up for the rest of the day?” Ignis repeated as though he had never before heard anything so appalling. His hands found Gladio’s shoulders like an anchor, and he slipped neatly into his lap. “I disagree.”

Gladio’s knee had begun to bounce with impatience, and he turned his face away to avoid the sight of Ignis’s face, which would surely compromise the resolve of his protest. “What do you mean, you disagree? There's nothing to debate here. It’s not a matter of opinion. I stated a fact.”

Ignis’s hand smoothed up the thick of his neck, fingertips tracing the line of his jaw, pinching lightly at his chin to hold him in place as he delivered a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Is it not up for debate, the veracity of this fact?”

Whatever protest Gladio had intended to cling to had died when his hand found the curve of Ignis’s ass, and he hated himself a little for how amenable he was to the surrender. “That’s not fair, you know.”

“What’s not?” Ignis asked, feigning innocence as he shifted very pointedly in Gladio’s lap.

Gladio’s hand smacked at his ass sharply, grabbing hold of it and jiggling it for emphasis. “This.” He kissed him quickly on the mouth. “That, too. I mean, basically all of this.” He ran his hands frantically up his thighs, his backside, in demonstration of this fact.

Ignis laughed. “Eloquent.”

“Yeah?” Gladio grinned, kissing him meaningfully. “You expect me to think when all the blood that should be going to my brain is rushing my dick right now?”

“What was that protest about being called a caveman?” he asked, saccharine-sweet as he touted his own victory.

“Yeah, I concede,” Gladio announced into the fabric of his shirt, where he mouthed at the jut of his collarbone. “Woof.”

The distinct sound of a key pushed into the lock preceded the swing of the front door, and without a thought, Gladio had hoisted Ignis up and tossed him inelegantly to the other side of the couch, where he quickly arranged himself into a picture of composure: hair smoothed, shirt straightened, legs crossed artfully, while Gladio attempted to think of the most disgusting things imaginable to tamp down the ridiculous boner already presenting along his thigh.

Noctis and Prompto bounded in, stopping short of the corner they’d rounded to find them in the living room at the sight of them. Noctis’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, though Prompto gleefully threw himself on the couch between them, propping up his boots on the coffee table with a sated, theatrical sigh.

“I knew you’d be here!” Prompto laughed, with something like triumph in his voice, as he tucked his hands behind his head. “Noct thought you’d be at Ignis’s place, but I had a feeling. Anyways, I won! I think that deserves a meal of some sort. Or at least an ice cream!”

Noctis gave one of those scoffing, sardonic laughs. “You didn’t win anything. We didn’t make a bet.”

Prompto sat up, indignance bright in his eyes. “Hey, man, I’m hungry! I’d honestly settle for a questionable hot dog, like, even one with sauerkraut on it—”

“Is there something you require?” Ignis interrupted, standing to inquire with a gravity to his voice serious enough to catch the pair of interlopers off guard. “It isn’t often that you seek me out, so I’m inclined to worry that you’re not here for purely social indulgences.”

“Well, you’re wrong,” Noctis informed him, in that too-grave way of his, the slightest arch of his brow the only indication of amusement in his expression. “I just thought you guys could use this.” He reached into his front pocket for a folded paper, which Gladio received and opened to read aloud.

“ …. A Groupon?”

“Yeah!” Prompto piped up, nodding enthusiastically along. “My mom bought it, thinking it would be a great way to strong arm my dad into taking her out on a date. You know, pre-paid dinner, pre-determined time frame that basically demanded he take her or else! … It was a real good effort on her part, but you know my dad and his love affair with work …”

Gladio looked skeptically at the paper, lined in exuberant red hearts drawn in Prompto’s undeniably sure and romantic hand. “So why would we want it, exactly?”

“Why not?” Noctis countered sharply, almost aggressively.

Prompto’s eyes went wide, and Gladio watched him scramble to find some more amenable explanation. “We thought it would be a nice change of pace! You know, something relaxed and romantic—”

Noctis shoved him.

“I mean, relaxed and …. Relaxed …. Yeah!” Prompto added hastily, his voice high with the strain of forced cheer. “Anyways, it’s about to expire, so why let it go to waste, you know?”

Gladio peered at the paper. “Doesn’t expire until next month.”

Noctis snatched the paper from Gladio’s hand, holding his gaze with unwavering displeasure as he pawed at Prompto’s vest front to retrieve one of the pens he kept there (just in case I get a number!). The pen scratched out the date with a pointed viciousness and scribbled in nonsensical numbers, before Noctis tossed the crumpled paper back at Gladio. “Look again.”

“Ah,” Gladio said, clearing his throat. “There it is.”

“There what is?” Ignis asked.

Gladio gave a soft laugh as he settled back in triumph, smacking Ignis’s thigh with the Groupon. “So looks like we’re going to Dorsia.”

In spite of all the misgivings he’d harbored over Gladio’s inability to dress for the occasion—any occasion— he had scrubbed up rather well, outfitting himself smartly in charcoal slacks tailored to the gods, a fitted white oxford left unbuttoned at the collar (and only the collar), finished with a surprisingly stylish jacket of a simple cut but in a luxurious silk satin that looked expensive to the discerning eye. Ignis had been pleasantly surprised, enough that he elected not to inhibit or disguise his pointed appreciation as he’d run his hand over the broad bow of his shoulders, the length of his torso, letting his hands roam inquisitively to discern his boyfriend’s surprising sartorial salience. Even now, sat a the table across from him, Ignis chewed quietly at his bottom lip, to Gladio’s distraction, who knew exactly what that tell meant.

The waiter that attended them looked politely nonplussed to the inconspicuous tension between them, as he waited for Gladio to inform him of his choice.

Distracted (more than normal) over the sight of Ignis, Gladio had paid little more attention than a cursory glance at the menu, reluctantly tearing his gaze from Ignis to finally regard the waiter beside him. “So this … vol-au-vent of braised sweetbreads in a black truffle madeira sauce,” he read off, with a stunted facility of confusion. “What exactly are sweetbreads?”

“Offal,” the waiter replied dutifully.

“Awful!” Gladio barked out a laugh that surprised the waiter enough to preclude any further explanation. “Hilarious. We got a joker over here. I’ll have one of those and a glass of whatever wine you would recommend to pair with it.”

“The sommelier recommends a wonderfully complex white wine,” the waiter recited. “It’s a newer vintage, but boasts an unusual minerality, with sweet notes of peach and honeysuckle, and a hint of sea salt which balances the flavour beautifully.”

“Perfect,” Gladio said, handing the menu back to him, absolutely unsure of what the waiter had just said. “Ignis?”

“I’ll have the duck confit with the cranberry, orange and cardamom glaze,” Ignis said smartly, as he snapped the leather-bound menu shut (purely for the indulgent satisfaction of the sound of it) and handed it neatly to the waiting waiter.

“Excellent choice,” the waiter agreed, nodding before retreating to put the order in.

“You look … really incredible,” Gladio informed him, once they were alone again, in that indulgent way of his. “If I haven’t said that already.”

“You have,” Ignis replied, a little smugly. Gladio was always full of compliments, and always so genuinely meant that it was difficult to tire of them, even for the most self-effacing. “But I still appreciate the sentiment. And the reminder.”

Gladio grinned, his eyes dropping demurely to the complex spread of cutlery and crockery, and wracking his brain to remember his formal eating etiquette from so long ago. “Do you think the boys have any idea?” he asked, distractedly, his fingers worrying up the length of a champagne flute’s stem.

“Probably not to the degree they think they do,” Ignis replied. “Noctis certainly has an idea, I think.”

“That kid made direct and un-fuck-with-able eye contact with me, I was shocked!” Gladio laughed. “Shit, I honestly have never been scared of him in my life until that moment. That was the most intent I’d ever seen from him since that one time you tried to force him to eat his brussel sprouts when he was ten. Do you remember that?”

The food came, and Gladio had waited until they were both served before tucking in excitedly, the delighted smile on his lips turning strained as the mastication of his mouth slowed to discern the ungodly texture of the sweetbreads on his tongue: spongy, but also a little grainy, with a strange, bitter aftertaste like bile.

“How’s your food?” Ignis asked absently, cutting into his duck, unaware of the personal turmoil in Gladio’s mouth.

Gladio waited a moment, too distracted by the ungodly taste to think of a euphemistic assurance for Ignis’ benefit. “Good,” he lied through gritted teeth, voice strained as he pushed the offending plate away. “Yours?”

“You sound wholly unconvincing,” Ignis pointed out lightly.

“Okay, but what is this texture?” Gladio demanded, leaving off the pretense of being okay about the morsel of hell in his mouth, leaning forward in a conspiratorial stage whisper, like a hiss. “It tastes clotted or rotten, like an over-boiled blood sausage, and then the aftertaste like a colon—”

“You’re eating pancreas,” Ignis supplied helpfully. “It’s an organ. It’s not technically meat, and—”

“I’m going to be ill on myself.”

Ignis laughed, covering his mouth with the heel of his hand in propriety, a peal which devolved into shallow coughs of growing desperation, and then no sound at all as he flailed for Gladio’s attention. “Epi-pen,” he managed to choke out. “Coat. Pocket.”

“Your what?” Gladio asked, jumping up in his panic and rounding the table to paw clumsily at his coat. “Shit.”

His fingers closed about the rigid epinephrine injector, pulling it frantically from the tangle of Ignis’ coat and instinctively tearing the blue safety cap with his teeth, and jamming it hard into Ignis’s thigh. Gladio’s eyes were trained on Ignis’s form, noting, waiting for the anaphylactic shock to abate with the injection.

It was a full few minutes of rubbing his shoulder and back and cooing words of comfort until Ignis seemed to regulate, and Gladio became acutely aware of the audience about them. It seemed all the eyes in the restaurant were on them, raking down their backs with invasive, proprietary inquisition. Gladio could feel the hairs at his neck stand at attention, raised in reflexive defense of him and his, and knew that if he disliked the exposure, Ignis would hate it more. “Come on,” he urged, bending to slip an arm around his waist and pull him up to standing. “Let’s go freshen you up.”

Ignis seemed to sink into his side, the strain of his arm, as Gladio walked him to the quiet of the bathroom’s vestibule, sitting him down in an overstuffed velvet armchair. “Thank you,” he said hoarsely, his breath coming labored still. “I’m allergic to a very specific strain of clove. It’s rare enough that I never think to be wary of it. But cloves are often paired naturally with cardamom, I should have inquired …”

Gladio pulled a disbelieving expression, kneeling at his side. “But you have an epi-pen on hand anyways. Seriously?”

“Precisely,” Ignis replied, with the bright ease of one stating something obvious. “One must be prepared for every eventuality.”

Gladio shook his head. “I’m too baffled to be turned on. But listen.” He laid a heavy hand on Ignis’s knee. “Now that this fancy dinner is obviously a bust, what do you say we take a trip down to the quay and eat some shitty burgers and some corner store wine? It’s no Dorsia, but after this little debacle here, I’m not sure that’s a bad thing.”

A little smile curled at the corner of Ignis’s mouth as he felt Gladio raise his hand to his lips to kiss. “No. That’s perfect. What are we waiting for?”

An hour later, and the two were sitting on the beach with their slacks rolled up to their knees, feet buried like ostrich heads in the sand, eating greasy burgers and taking swigs from the boxed wine like teenagers. The wind sang where it sailed upon the crests of the waves, to caress them like a lover under the inky night sky punctured with stars. It was highly romantic, in Gladio’s opinion, and inspired a particularly affectionate mood in him.

“Ever been skinny dipping?” Gladio asked, a rakish smile on his face that Ignis could not see, but was certain was there by the prodigal cadence of his question.

Ignis turned to him to deliver up the most wry of smiles, wriggling his toes delightedly in the sand at the eventuality of the question waiting to be asked. But still, he played coy. “I think you of all people should know that I have not.”

Gladio laughed, wiping a spot of ketchup from the corner of his mouth and sucking it from his thumb. “First time for everything.”

“No,” Ignis laughed, without reproach. “There isn’t.”

“Fine,” Gladio conceded easily, wiping his hands off and tucking them behind his head as he leaned back in the sand. “Ever play truth or dare?”

“Is your objective to wait until I ask or a dare, and then tell me to go skinny dipping?” Ignis asked pertly, grinning wide at his bold-faced and unabashed tenacity.

“No,” Gladio lied, scoffing loudly in poorly-disguised offense. “Not everything I do is intended to see you naked. At least eighteen percent of my feelings for you are purely idealistic, intellectual admiration.”

Ignis neatly folded his food wrappers and discarded them in the grease-lined paper bag. “You’re a terrible liar and a worse tactician,” he informed him evenly.

“Be nice to me,” Gladio laughed good-naturedly. “I’ve waited a long time for you. I’m used to taking what little I can get.”

Maybe it was pity. Maybe it was the rush of adrenaline malingering in his veins, inciting him to bad decisions without the rashness of thought. “Alright,” Ignis assented, his fingers already undoing the line of buttons on his shirt. “I’ll indulge you. For the occasion.”

Gladio’s eyes grew wide at the flash of collarbone. “Oh shit …”

There was something ephemeral about the way Ignis wore moonlight, and the quintessence of the stars. His pale skin glowed like a cynosure, like some celestial body whose gravity Gladio was impotent to resist. Even if he’d wanted to. “Come here,” Gladio murmured, even as his hands already reached to grasp his slender face with all the care and carefulness he could muster, to pull him into a kiss.

Their skin chilled by the pelagic winds prickled artlessly, and Gladio drew Ignis to him, their bodies flush with one another. Gladio’s broad hand smoothed down the elegant slope of Ignis’s spine, warm and proprietary, and Ignis folded himself against the muscled breadth of Gladio’s frame with a sigh.

But the sigh gave way to a sharp yelp and Ignis was snatched away from him abruptly, hissing with a writhing, flailing pain that kicked up sand and salt as he suddenly scrambled to his feet to escape the wash of the shoreline. The whole occurrence was so uncharacteristically clumsy of him— desperate even— that it had Gladio following in almost the same manner, chasing after Ignis's limping form with frantic haste.

“What’s wrong!” Gladio demanded, reaching out to steady him with an arm around his waist.

“Jellyfish." Ignis's voice was a strained thing seeping out through his teeth in a hiss as his leg buckled and pitched him into the sturdy hold of Gladio's arms. "My leg. Just above the ankle—"

“What?" he blurted, leaning to look. "Are you sure?”

“Seaweed doesn’t quite have the same acerbic affect,” Ignis snapped without meaning to, his fingers a vice on Gladio’s wrist. He tested his weight on the leg again and the failure of the attempt only heightened the inconsolable edge in his voice. “Gladio, do something!”

The lights of the Emergency Room were unforgiving, ascetic and harsh, casting long, sharp shadows and a preternatural sallow to their skin. Not the first place Gladio would have thought this anniversary date might have ended up, or even the last. And for someone who prided himself on being really fucking good at the art of spoiling a date (as in pampering one), more than just his pride and Ignis’s leg was wounded.

“I’m sorry our anniversary dinner was literally the worst,” Gladio confided quietly.

“You should be,” Ignis said smartly, affecting a brightly clipped tone that he was sure would denote his facetiousness. “I fear this might be indicative of exactly how flawed our relationship is, and I can’t understand how stupendously you failed in your efforts to commemorate our anniversary with something momentous.”

Gladio said nothing, and Ignis grinned as he imagined the abject horror on his face, mouth gaping like a floundering carp.

“I’m kidding, Gladio,” he assured him with a laugh, turning his palm up where it rested on his thigh, and which Gladio grasped like a man drowning to a lifeline, threading his fingers within his and holding on for dear life. “If anything, I’m glad for it. I think it’s a testament to the mettle of our relationship, that we could handle hardships the way we did. It’s easy, to get along. In a sense, at least. Relationships are easy when nothing at all goes wrong. Thus far we’ve never allowed anything to mar our happiness. And while it wasn’t the most harrowing of experiences—no death or financial ruin to speak of— I do appreciate your willingness to stab me with a needle and try to make me laugh after. I’ve never had anyone look after me before, and never would I have dreamed anyone would do so so wholly and holistically.”

He leaned back against the steadying warmth of Gladio’s chest. “If I didn’t love you then, I’m fairly certain I love you now. Irrevocably so.”

It had been the first time since they’d dated that Ignis had said those words to him. They’d been friends for so long that Ignis had had occasion to tell him so, but in a purely platonic sense: a reflexive response when Gladio would thank him for something with a pat on the shoulder and an off-handed ‘love you, man,’ or those many nights he’d indulge Gladio’s inebriate enthusiasms and slurred words, coupled with too-familiar cheek nuzzlings. Those instances had never waned in their frequencies, but there was an obvious reticence between them, a palpable precaution to the way they were conscious never to say those loaded words, now that they had different meaning. But Gladio was always sure he loved Ignis, in every rare and rarified form. And to hear that reciprocated from the man he’d loved for all his life was nothing less than a beautiful devastation.

“You have the worst romantic timing I’ve ever witnessed,” Gladio laughed, kissing just behind Ignis’s ear. “At least I attempted a lead up here.”

“Then you're to blame for the jellyfish,” Ignis quipped, and pointed to his wounded leg. “And the fact that I smell like an indigent’s trash bin.”

Gladio’s lips pursed then rolled as he bit back a rueful smile. “I’m to blame for us even being together, you wanna hold that against me too?”

“I’d rather hold other things against you, given the option,” Ignis replied pertly.

“Aw no, you can’t break out innuendos here,” Gladio laughed, circling an arm around Ignis’s shoulder. “I’m weak, you know this. And now I only want to take you home harder.”

“That sounds like a capital idea,” Ignis said softly, turning his face into the hollow of Gladio’s cheek and kissing there. “I can’t think of another place I’d rather be.”

[theworstbob]

the thing journal, 2.26-3.4

as a) part of an effort to get me to be a more consistent writer, but also b) to get me to stop watching so much fucking mario maker-related content b.1) and also maybe stop listening to the same fucking playlist on shuffle when i ride the bus home, i have a new goal where i try to watch/hear/play seven new things a week and write at least a little bit about what i’ve done. try to get into a routine where i spend x amount of time with a thing, x amount of time writing, and maybe not looking on youtube for new dudes playing mario maker, y’know? it’s like, i love movies. before last week, i had seen three films that had been released since the start of 2016. so i guess c) be a better fucking citizen of the world. i might move this to medium or facebook, i might move all the non-shitpost stuff to medium at some point honestly, why do i have three different blogs, but we’re doin’ this here for now.

1) Sausage Party: this film is insultingly stupid. i already yelled at it, but ye gods. there is a moment in the film where, when the antagonist makes an unexpected arrival, one of the characters said, “Oh, fuck!” and if in any other movie, this might have been a nice moment, a character reacting to something unexpected by blurting out what one would blurt out on such an occasion, but in this movie, it felt like they just didn’t bother coming up with an actual joke.

2) Zootopia: i did a double-feature with sausage party and this, which is a very weird thing to have done that also might have impacted my opinion, but man, after slogging through Sausage Party, it was such a breath of fresh air to watch a film people put effort into making. even after divorcing it from that context, though, it is still handily the best buddy-cop movie about a bunny rabbit and a fox taking on racism that i’ve ever seen. it’s adorable. i’m not gonna put it in the pantheon of animated classics, not when there’s an extended monologue about how bad racism is from... shakira? for some reason?, but i do have to own up to the fact that, hey, maybe this movie wasn’t meant for my pantheon! i think this film set its ceiling at “the emperor’s new groove for budding social justice warriors,” but there are films with less noble aims, and this is totally a budding social justice warrior’s favorite film right now! and that’s really dope, that they have a movie! that sounds backhanded. i honestly loved this film. like, i saw emperor’s new groove when i was 11, and if there’s kids out there who’re gonna spend the next 16 years thinking about and loving this movie, the world’s gonna be in good hands. (also: the nudist colony scene. gold.)

3) Sing Street: this is for all the people that wished Freaks & Geeks had done a musical episode. this movie has so many things that i like. soaring musical numbers! lovable side characters! almost no plot! unbearable sadness! realistic teen drama! accurate depiction of a lower-class family! this isn’t a perfect movie. i think the central love story is brilliantly done, and they really nail the family stuff, but they stop giving everyone else in the band things to do after the characters’ introductions, and they didn’t set up the bully or the priest well enough as antagonists for their respective comeuppances to have any payoff. (everything at the school feels just a tad undercooked. like they had this epic love tale they wanted to tell, but then were like, “Ah, shite, can’t have 15-year-olds bugger off from school all the time, can we?” like at least let us know how the rest of the band feels about their lead singer and lyricist taking off for london all a sudden!) but man, when this film gets in its groove, it /waits a million millennia for it/ sings

4) Mad Love, JoJo: so the opening track, “Music,” is maybe one of my favorite opening tracks of the music year 2016. I don’t think I like this album half as much without it. On its face, it’s kinda cheeseball, just a girl ‘n a piano singin’ ‘bout how much she loves music. It’s a risky move, but she sells the hell out of the song, and because that track is so successful, each subsequent track is imbued with an undeniable joy, because you know, at the core of each song, there’s just a young woman doing the thing she loves the most. It lends each song a certain authenticity, like there’s no ‘tude being copped (or whatever kids these days say), this is JoJo’s music. I had a real good bus ride with this one. (And not for nothing, after miring myself in the Yellin’ at Songs project, I’m grateful for a pop singer who acknowledges that sex is a fun thing to have, and is direct about her desire to enjoy a sexual encounter. "Edibles” would be amazing even if I hadn’t endured multiple selections from the 50 Shades of Grey soundtrack, but as this is the case, got DAMN do I appreciate “Edibles.”)

5) The Big Short: the narration in this movie is so phenomenal. like, they establish from the jump that the narrator is a jerk (“i didn’t hang out with those nerds. i was cool.” or whatever he actually says), so when he starts saying, “Look, some of these terms are gonna go right over your heads, so here’s a hottie in a bubble bath to help you dum dums out for a second,” it’s in character. i absolutely loved that. (also, i, um, i did need to hear the explanation of the terms used in this film. “don’t you work with mortgages?” i don’t know what they do, i only know how to look at them.) i also really loved the scene where the narrator is trying to get steve carell to make the bet, and he has this jenga set up to explain what’s happening with the bonds, and he takes a jenga piece out, but before he throws it away, he asks his assistant to point out where the garbage can was so he didn’t miss. that’s a nice touch. (adam mckay’s good at comedy! weird, right!) also i loved that the hedge fund dudes from boulder moved to new york and had a table which tilted. that’s such a good prop, like these dudes have $30m but they’re still living with a table that tilts, which establishes both that they’re small fish and that they’re also not quite sure what they’re doing. such a solid film.

6) Telefone, Noname: so real talk i didn’t give this the closest listen in the world. my phone lost connection in the middle of track four, and a drunk man had to give me life advice during track nine. maybe it’s not the best idea to try to listen to album with a semi-open critical mind while bussing, but i still really dug this album and would not mind giving it a second, deeper listen, because it deserves multiple spins. i’m really stoked to see what this woman can do on a full-length album, there was a lot to love in what i was able to pay full attention to.

7) It Follows: Y’all. Y’all. This film. THIS GODDAMN FILM, Y’ALL. After the first scene, which ends with a girl disconnected from the main plot dismembered on a beach, I was ready to tout the charms of YA Hannibal, but the deeper I got, the more I understood the disservice such a comparison would do to this film. This is its own gorgeous, brilliant thing. The way it steeps itself in silence is so, ugh, I wish that the central concept didn’t require dialogue to explain, because this would’ve been such a cool silent film. Like. When I think about movies, I try not to think about the acting too much because I know I’m not gonna have any interesting observations about it, but the performances here are just off-the-charts. Just the way the nebbish nerdy boy looks every time he thinks about offering help and what that would mean for his future and his friendships, or the sheer desperation in the main girl’s eyes every time the It gets kind of close, it’s just, I don’t know how to describe it, it’s a film executed superbly, almost masterfully. I keep thinking about the scene where the main girl looks out over the lake at the bro-party boat, and she’s taking off her clothes to go swimming, but her face is somehow blank and terrified at the same time, and her motions are so tentative and rigid, it’s, THIS FILM. IT’S. The thematic content alone! Gosh, I just, I need to find all the pieces people wrote about this film in 2014 when they were excited about it and just dig in, there’s so much to analyze and discuss about the things this film is saying about sex, about gender, about rape culture, about victim-blaming, about abuse, about SO MUCH. This might be my second-favorite horror movie of all time. (No Country for Old Men is a horror movie, don’t @ me.) It’s just so unbelievably good.

8) The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild: This might count toward the Seven Things list next week, seeing as I’m only like six hours deep into this game, but simply moving from Point A to Point B is more fun and creative than half the games I’ve ever played. Honestly, if all I ever do with this game is treat it as Parkour Simulator 2017, I’ma be happy with my purchase. The Wind Waker was heretofore my favorite Zelda, but with every single step I take in this world, I get angrier that The Wind Waker put you on a boat and then... you sailed? You had a jump button on the boat, but that was basically all you did, was point your boat at where the game told you to go, put down the controller, and made a sandwich while you reached your destination. But I shouldn’t come to this space to bury other games, I should rejoice in what we have, and Breath of the Wild is my favorite game since Undertale. I love this game, and I can’t wait to find the first dungeon!