#maybe even on the less ''glorious'' end of crime

[kpoptrashlord-007]

2|3 – The Moon;; KSY

Word Count;; 1.7k

Genre;; Fluff, Humour(ish), (B)F2Ls

Pairing;; Hoshi x Reader

Summary;;

It’s Rose Day, or Yellow Day, whichever, or neither. It doesn’t matter because you’re spending the day with your three best friends. Nothing more, nothing less - just another uneventful May 14th eating singles curry. Or at least that was your plan. It seems, however, that Hoshi has a plan of his own.

Warnings;;

None! it's pure fluff, babie! well, aside from the murder of an innocent cellular device.

Notes;;

Here is the third instalment of a collab I am doing with @writeformesinpie - Holidays With Seventeen. Every 14th day of the month is considered a holiday in South Korea so we’re basing the prompts off those! May 14th is Yellow Day, or Rose Day! ... dropped my phone while trying to replicate Reader's actions, call that method writing

Collab Masterlist

Main Masterlist || SVT Masterlist

    “Why is he so late?” you groan, flipping your phone in the air before catching it with one hand.

    “Don’t do that."

    With a roll of the eyes you lean back against the couch. Plush cushions engulf you but do little to dampen the harsh clack of approaching footsteps. Joshua's hand slides into your peripheral before jutting out past your shoulder. His pretty fingers wiggle in expectation. Beside you, Seokmin snickers.

    "I won't do it again."

    "I don't believe you."

    And he shouldn't. Itching to throw the device back into the air, your fingers clamp around the cool glass screen. You tilt your head side to side as you decide the best way out of the lecture when a text message comes through.

Horanghae: almost there!

    You can't stop yourself from smiling. Showing the phone to each of your friends, you shake it, indifferent to its fragile nature. Consisting of a loose two finger grip, your hold on the device is precarious at best.

    "If you break another ph–"

    It wobbles about like a bobblehead before flinging free. In a glorious arc, it flies high and fast. Your mouth falls open in a strangled shout. Over the coffee table and past the lounge chairs, the phone disappears into the unknown with a sharp crack.

    Silence follows.

    You blink thrice in rapid succession. Inch by inch you turn to your couchmate. Seokmin mirrors you. His mouth is hanging open and his eyes are wide. Disbelief ties his tongue and he merely gapes at you. Brows furrowing, you shake your head. He gestures toward the scene of the crime. With a huff you slump back into the couch.

    "Unbelievable," Joshua murmurs as he traverses beyond the visible realm and into the electronic graveyard where your phone now rests. He drops behind the lounge chairs right as the front door swings open. "It's shattered."

    "I'm here!"

    "No!" you cry, head falling into your hands.

    Seokmin rubs your back. "There, there."

    "What kind of greeting is that?" Soonyoung jokes, entering the living room with several bags in tow. They crinkle with each step before he tosses them on the table.

    Joshua pops back into view with a heavy sigh. "I'll take you to buy a new one."

    "A new one? But I'm one of a kind!"

    "Thanks, Josh. You're the best."

    "Don't mention it."

    "Are you guys seriously ignoring me when I come bearing gifts?"

    "Maybe if you arrived five minutes earlier we wouldn't have witnessed another phone's untimely end," Seokmin says, shaking his head in disapproval.

    "You're right," you fake-sniffle, pointing a finger at Soonyoung, "this is his fault."

    "My fault?"

    "Did you even buy us anything?" Joshua asks while looking through Soonyoung's haul. He pulls out two matching tiger-print jackets. Instead of a warm orange they're eye-stinging yellow. "There's only two sets."

    "Why would I buy you something?"

    "Not even a hat?" Seokmin's tone is incredulous as he jumps up to help the search.

    Joshua frowns. "Not even snacks.”

    Soonyoung nudges the pair aside. He's beaming as he shoves everything back inside the now tearing bags. Joshua and Seokmin glance at one another, communicating on a level you're not quite fluent in.

    "You know what I just realised?" Joshua begins, tapping his finger against his chin. "We need food. Not it."

    "Not it!"

    All three of you shout in unison. It's impossible to tell who was last, but it definitely wasn't you. You're never last! So the fact that Seokmin is sidling up to Joshua, leaving both you and Soonyoung on the wrong side of the table, is a tell-tale sign of fraud.

    "Then it's decided. You two will go."

    It was rigged!

    "Well, if we have to!" Soonyoung says without a hint of despondency.

    "But I don't want to! Can't we make our sad little singles curry here?"

    "Host's rules,” Joshua deadpans.

    Seokmin shrugs off your pleading stare. You understand him sacrificing you (you’d do the same to him, after all) but this isn’t a full grocery run – it’s a quick stop at a curry joint. It would make more sense if you all went. Then you could just eat there!

    Joshua disappears into the kitchen before you can suggest the obvious, putting an end to the discussion. Seokmin teeters by the edge of the living room table, fingers fiddling with the plastic bags, eyes darting between you and Soonyoung.

    With a small pout on your lips you turn to Soonyoung. Considering he only just arrived he doesn’t seem put out by the fact they’re sending him onto those mean streets to battle for a seat at the best curry place in town. It’s a warzone fuelled by the hunger of middle aged office workers – no one in their right mind would smile knowing the hardships you two soon face.

    “Let’s go,” you say, a distant echo in your voice.

    You’re a mere step closer to the door when Seokmin speaks up. "It's cold out there so you'll want to wear this!"

    “Cold? But it’s May…” you trail off, attention set wholly on the man in front of you.

    The bags crinkle as Seokmin rummages. Yanking out one of the jackets, he tosses it at you. With a quick shake you hold it up in all its glory. Dandelion yellow, bee fuzz yellow, pikachu yellow – it’s so yellow. You’re no longer in control of yourself as your eyes squint and your jaw drops. Seokmin isn’t finished unveiling Soonyoung’s treasures, however. Next comes a black cap. It hits you square in the face before falling onto your outstretched arms. On the front are small paw prints which are also… yellow. Just like the curry you're being sent out to the frontlines to buy for none other than–

    "It's Yellow day!" Flabbergasted, you gawk between your three friends; Joshua is rolling his eyes in the kitchen, Seokmin is laughing so loud the sound is reverberating off the walls, and…

    Soonyoung’s eyes are crescent moons as he grins at you, his nose scrunched and his mirth palpable.

    "You want to match… with me?"

    "Of course I do!” he says, pouncing closer. “Unless you don’t want to. Then I’ll just make DK wear it.”

    “Nope, not it, never in your life.” Seokmin shakes his head to and fro before tossing the other bag at Soonyoung. “Take your stuff and go, pal. We don’t have all night.”

    Despite the hurried waving of hands trying to usher you out the door, you take your time slipping into the jacket. The inside is cool and smooth, easy to slide on, yet it warms you the second you finish zipping it up nice and snug. While the design choice is questionable (you look like a holey slice of moon cheese), the jacket itself isn’t too bad.

    “You look cute,” Soonyoung practically shouts, throat bobbing as he looks away. “Let’s go!”

    He’s at the door and flinging it open with a little too much force before you can respond. The ‘Hey, you’re pretty cute yourself,’ and ’I really like you– in that jacket!’ and ’We’re just friends… unless?’ remain unspoken, but perhaps that’s for the best. Trotting behind him like a little show puppy, you strike a pose inside the doorway.

    “Tada!” you actually shout, and he jumps back in surprise. It doesn’t last long.

    “Tada!” he reciprocates, mimicking your pose.

    “Tada!” you both say in unison while springing 180 degrees to pose for Seokmin.

    He claps then joins in with a, “Tada!” of his own, and this time the pose is dynamic as you each shoot off a finger gun.

    “Ta–”

    “Just go!” Joshua yells from the kitchen.

    The apartment vibrates with laughter. Seokmin shoots his finger guns off toward Joshua, a brilliant grin plastered on his face which soon falls into a grimace. He flops onto the couch, yelling about how he’s hit and that you should save yourselves. You don’t need to be told twice. Entwining your arm with Soonyoung’s, you skip over the threshold and shut the door behind you.

    “That was close,” you murmur, resting your head on his shoulder and wiping away nonexistent sweat from your forehead.

    Soonyoung’s free hand slips into his jacket pocket. It reemerges with a delicate yellow rose. "This is for you. If you want it."

    The soothing scent of its petals kisses your senses long before you lean in to breathe it deep. You close your eyes and indulge the gentle floral paradise. When you ground yourself back in the wondrous now, Soonyoung is watching you with a curious expression that morphs into a playful smile. He’s still holding the rose but you’re quick to remedy that.

    "Of course I do, you cute little cheesy moon!" you swoon before pressing a chaste kiss on his cheek.

    The front door swings back open and Seokmin gasps. “They’re making out out here.”

    What a tattletale!

    Joshua’s response drifts through the open door. “Tell them not to come back.”

    “Turns out we have enough to make dinner for us two here but you two will have to eat at the restaurant, together, alone, without us,” Seokmin says with a forced, exaggerated frown. “Enjoy yourselves! But not too much. Not where everyone can see.”

    “Thank you,” you groan before tugging Soonyoung down the hall.

    “Be safe! We’ll miss you but not as much as you’ll miss us probably!”

    “I always miss you, bro!” Soonyoung shouts, looking wistfully back over his shoulder one last time before you turn the corner with him.

    “That guy,” you say, your tone uneven with laughter.

    “Are you ready to have the best Yellow Day ever?!”

    His sudden excitement shocks you and you’re nodding along to his enthusiasm even while your brain catches up. “Yeah!”

    “Are you ready to have the best curry ever?!”

    “Yeah!” You pause. “But won’t it taste the same as it always does?”

    “What? No way!” he says, booping you on the nose. “This is the first time we’re getting the curry together, as a pair. Like a–”

    “Couple!”

    “So it’ll taste even more–”

    “Lovely!”

    “Yeah!” he cheers, raising both hands for a double high-five.

    You complete the high-five with your own, ‘yeah!’.

    “Then what are we waiting for?” He beams at you and the whole world pauses as he repositions the cap on your head. “Onward to our date!”

   – If you enjoyed this, please consider liking, commenting, reblogging, and/or following! Thank you! ♡

[azerothtravel]

Secret Origin

I'm just an old time Warcraft nerd who's too dumb to quit. My first WC game was Warcraft II, when I was in high school. I gravitated toward the Horde because they were funnier. I liked the game, but wasn't too good at it. Jump ahead to the release of Warcraft III, it's a whole other thing. I read all the lore in the huge manual. I was completely taken with the concept of orcs as once noble, tragic victims trying to make their way in the world and atone for their crimes. A friend of mine had me read some of the novels. I was suddenly way, way into the setting. Plus, I knew a lot of people who played WC3. I enjoyed the Orgrimmar campaign in Frozen Throne with no idea it was more or less a test run for WoW.

But I didn't like MMOs. I wasn't sure about WoW. Then I got into the beta. I hauled my whole-ass desktop over to the house of the same friend who loaned me those books, and we were up til 4am downloading the client and then getting started. Gormorash the orc warrior was born that night (And so was Skarsnik the troll hunter, but he lost interest after BC). I was immediately sold. Running around Azeroth at ground level, full of detail from the RTS games, was a ton of fun. Gormorash went on many strange adventures in beta, like a hilariously inept "raid" on Westfall where half our group died before we got there and none of us were even level 60.

Then Gormorash was rebooted on Argent Dawn US when the game launched, a member of <Flaming Skull Clan> with several other friends of mine.

By middle 2005, almost literally everyone I knew played WoW. My oldest friends, friends from college, friends from the internet, relatives. Basically 2 friends and my parents were the only people not playing. Friends of mine who didn't know each other met and bonded through WoW. It was a glorious time.

By the end of 2006, I'd been through 2 guild collapses and one server move, as they opened up free transfers to Eitrigg and my friends all took it. I wasn't sure I'd keep playing. The novelty had worn off for most of my friends. I wasn't that into raiding, and doing Arathi Basin over and over was only so interesting (Gormorash just lived in Hammerfall for like a year). I was maybe gonna quit. And then, in early 2007, my brother found 2 Collector's Editions of BC just sitting on a shelf in a store, and asked if I wanted one. I had the vanilla CE, but I'd missed BC when they were released, and didn't buy BC at all. He bought them and shipped me one, and we leveled 60-70 together. It was a lot of fun.

Along the way, I started a new guild with some online friends, and Gormorash is still in it. He's never missed an expansion. Most people have fallen off the wagon. Our guild typically only has 3 active members at any given time these days, but that's fine with me. Sometimes a couple people come back for major content. It was lore that got me into all this, and that remains my primary motivator for playing. My endgame is more PvP and leveling alts than raiding, but the game has literally never supported those 2 things better than right now (2023), so that's pretty good. I still have a good time. And that's why I have hundreds of screenshots to choose from stretching from the 2004 open beta to just a few days ago to post on this blog. With the sad exception of most of 2006, lost in a hard drive failure, I have a comprehensive collection of every screenshot I ever took, and that's what this blog is all about.

I've made a few other Gormorashes on other servers, but rarely leveled them very far. Someone out there made a Gormorash that isn't me, a fact that shocked me when I found out. Who stole my name? Was it you? I have characters of every race on both factions, but still tend to prefer Horde. If you see me, say hello!

Gormorash is an orc warrior who came of age in the camps. With his brother, Rugurrash, he's led a guild of adventures for many years, with trusty allies Snarfner, Vallkillmore and Canon rounding out the core group. His hair's started to gray after saving the world 8 or 9 times, traveling through space and time and the realms of death, but he's still out there, still exploring, still getting into trouble and mostly getting back out of it. He's an alchemist and herbalist in his spare time, and has a completely unmanageable collection of pets. He is really, really tired of being forced to fight his own Warchief, and really hopes the gods don't lean on that already very tired trope again in the future.

[nitrateglow]

Halloween 2023 marathon: 9-11

The Slumber Party Massacre (dir. Amy Holden Jones, 1982)

A serial killer breaks free from jail, but the local high school population could not care less. There's sex to be had and joints to be smoked at the latest slumber party. Anyone not invited to the party either aims to crash it (the horny high school boys) or stay at home trying not to think about how uncool they are (the new girl who's better at basketball than her catty peers). All will be drawn together once the killer makes his way into town with a handy power drill that totally won't be used inappropriately.

I saw this movie for the first time earlier this year and immediately fell in love with its goofy charm. Apparently, it was written to be a parody of slasher tropes. The movie isn't played for broad comedy, but the humor is ever present in both overt and subtle ways. There's also a blend of cattiness and affection between the female characters that reminds me of the sorority house dynamics of Black Christmas, and the dialogue is often hilarious.

However, for all the humor, there are some creepy moments. The Driller Killer's "love" monologue is skin-crawling-- even if it is followed by a glorious parody of "the killer should be dead but isn't" trope.

This is one I love showing to other people. Everyone usually falls over laughing by the end, so it's a great group movie, but even alone, it's a fabulous time. You can currently catch it on Tubi for free.

Eyes of Laura Mars (dir. Irvin Kershner, 1978)

Controversial fashion photographer Laura Mars starts having psychic visions of the murders of her associates right as the crimes are being committed. She and everyone she knows become suspects of the slayings. The police find it particularly interesting that Laura's photos, which pair high fashion with images of murder and violence, resemble the subsequent crime scenes. Confused and feeling guilty, Laura teams up with cynical investigator John Neville, hoping to track down the killer before she or anyone else she loves becomes the next target.

This is a new-to-me horror film I caught on Tubi. All I knew about Eyes of Laura Mars is that it was directed by Irvin Kershner, a journeyman filmmaker best known for The Empire Strikes Back, and written by John Carpenter (though tampered with by many before shooting began). The movie is essentially an American spin on the Italian giallo genre. You have the familiar setting of the fashion world, sexy models who become murder victims, a hapless protagonist drawn into the mystery, and some very nasty kills.

There's a lot I like about this film, but in the end it didn't completely work for me. Maybe it's because unlike the best giallo, the movie doesn't have that otherworldly, psychedelic vibe that makes an audience able to swallow the sillier parts of the story. This is a very grounded, gritty presentation of New York City, making the more outrageous things in the film (like the unexplained psychic powers) stand out and not in a good way. Faye Dunaway's performance also verges into unintentional camp, with her wailing like she's in a 1940s melodrama much of the time. And I love melodramatic 1940s movies with appropriately overheated performances, but when the rest of your story is trying to be more realistic, that approach just takes me out of it because it doesn't gel. (Don't even get me started on the final twist, which I can't decide if I find laughable or clever.)

And yet, this is hardly a bad film. What frustrates me so much about it is that there's a lot that's pretty great. The supporting characters aren't the deepest in the world, but they are likable, so when they got picked off, I actually felt something. The movie also has an appealing time capsule element in its presentation of NYC during the height of the disco era. The fashions and the music are dated in the best way.

Despite my complaint about Dunaway's campy moments, Laura Mars is an interesting protagonist. She takes her art very seriously despite the derision she receives from her critics. She doesn't allow anyone to push her around, be it her boozy ex-husband, hostile reporters, or the police. She clearly loves the models, make-up artists, and other associates who work with her, and Dunaway does well lending a genuine sense of bereavement to the character as her social circle gets picked off one by one. However, I feel like the movie doesn't do much with her and she doesn't really have an arc.

I just really wish this film were a better version of itself. However, I can definitely see myself rewatching it someday, so maybe knowing the twists will make me better appreciate what is there. I don't know.

The Curse of Frankenstein (dir. Terence Fisher, 1957)

From adolescence, Baron Victor Frankenstein has had one dream: to cheat death. He and his research partner Paul Krempe delve into the mysteries of life, managing to reanimate a dead dog. Paul is satisfied with this achievement, but like a Disney Princess, Victor wants more. Like, creating a superbeing from bits and pieces of corpses more. This does not end well. At all.

It isn't spooky season without some Hammer Horror. I really have a hard time picking a favorite Hammer film, but The Curse of Frankenstein is definitely up there. Peter Cushing is so perfectly amoral and charming as Victor Frankenstein. I love Colin Clive in the Universal movies, but Cushing is my favorite in the part.

I've always admired how this movie sets itself apart from the Universal series without overdoing the opposition. The Universal movies were influenced by 1920s German expressionism, whereas the Hammer films go for more of a Victorian gothic meets explicit (by 1950s standards) sex and gore vibe. The sets and costumes are always wonderful in these films. I really love Cushing's glorious jackets, particularly the emerald green one.

<spoilers down below-- beware!>

Curse is also interesting for its frame narrative with Frankenstein telling the story from prison the hour before he is to be guillotined for his crimes. No one believes there was ever a creature and Victor wants everyone to know that, hey, he didn't commit ALL the murders. What's most fascinating about the frame story is the way it presents Paul, Victor's former tutor and research partner. Throughout the story, Paul is an unheeded voice of conscience tormented by the crimes Victor commits to achieve his goals. It's also implied Paul is in love with Victor's fiancee Elizabeth, and that this passion ignites further resentment against Victor on Paul's part because Victor clearly does not care about Elizabeth at all but is going to marry her anyway.

The film ends with Victor begging Paul to tell the authorities about the Creature, but Paul acts as though Victor is insane or just making it all up. He doesn't want to save Victor-- but is that because he wants to see justice done? Or is he also tight-lipped because he wants to secure Elizabeth for himself and knows she'll feel too duty-bound toward Victor (who supported her and her destitute aunt during Elizabeth's childhood) to break off the engagement unless the groom-to-be is, well, headless? It's a wonderfully ambiguous touch and it makes Paul more than just a nagging moral center.

<spoilers over>

Anyways, this is a perfect Halloween movie. Don't miss it if you've never seen it!

[onetruesporkbot]

Criticisms Are Not Attacks

Psst. Hey. Hey, you. Criticizing something isn't the same thing as attacking it. I know that's the title, but given recent weeks, it apparently bears repeating. Whether a movie "based on true events" or a country song, people are allowed to both critique it, and yes, even not like it. It doesn't mean they're horrible criminals or unpatriotic. And just because the liars you like in the fake-outrage-media passing as news, claims something's being "cancelled"/"attacked" by or is "enraging" those people you disagree with? Doesn't make it true. Valid criticisms are being distorted out of proportion so the phony-news idiots can do their advertising for them. You know how much it costs to advertise a movie? It can be MILLIONS, depending on the project. But pretend that someone not instantly liking it, pointing out a flaw or the like, is really THAT side "assaulting" this precious, glorious, innocent thing? Let that claim go viral, and boom, they've saved oodles of money...none of which goes to the real-life cause the movie is about, but to the people behind the film. But hey, you can watch an actor fake-shoot other actors, and feel good that you dislike this thing that you already disliked. And if you want to feel even better about yourself, but are also a sociopath, you can claim that anyone that points out reality to you, is actually part of that evil thing. Then you can avoid that pesky "critical thinking" that gets in way of all your happy-fun slandering of strangers. That Jim Caviezel movie about the guy who shoots human traffickers? Some of those criticizing it are anti-trafficking workers (many of them, EXPERTS), and say that not only does the movie give a less-than-realistic view of the trafficking underworld, but that Tim Ballard, the guy the movie's based on who says things that are not true, uses methods that can be counter-productive. They give you the chance to "buy someone else a ticket", but that just puts more money into the pocket of the people behind the movie. Not one cent has been shown to go to anti-trafficking causes. It doesn't actually "expose" anyone in real life of committing this crime. Vague references get made to "Hollywood" or "Washington D.C." by some wannabe victim, and they leave it to their audience to fill in the gaps with their biases, presumptions, and preconceived notions; that those famous people they happen to disagree with are exactly the complete monsters you already thought they were. Which is a tactic that's been used time and again by dishonest people afraid of integrity, morals, and actual work. Again, no critical thinking allowed. Jim apparently got struck by lightning filming Passion of the Christ, so maybe that'd explain his Q-related leanings. That "Try That In A" yadda-yadda country song? CMT made a business decision about the video. Big whoop. No one was stopped from listening to it. I never had an opinion about Jason Aldean one way or another, but he seems to be doing the same thing as the aforementioned movie...if not him, then the opportunists in the fake-outrage-media: Whining that one song...ONE SONG...faced some mild inconvenience, like it was the end of the damn world. I've literally seen more headlines and comments conflating this song with patriotism, than I have any "attacks" against it by "THEM". I haven't heard the song...maybe it's catchy, maybe it's okay but not my thing (and I still enjoy Toby Keith's "Courtesy of the Red White and Blue"), but honestly, the way people have just blindly believed the fabricated controversy, doesn't make me want to listen to it. You're being duped by cheap advertising. "I'll support anything that hypothetically destabilizes the mental health of someone I disagree with, whom I imagine in my head" is not a good substitute for a personality. Watching a movie isn't saving kids, a song isn't saving "small towns", and not everyone who disagrees with or lives differently than you is some unholy monster out to get you and your family. No, not even if they criticize something.

[carrottree5]

holy hell, heather...

she's so fine, her lucious blonde hair and her nice and fine pitch tone body, it blends nicely with her casual clothing and her apron... tasty fine wine she is, can't help but feel like her sweat will taste sweeter than anything i'll ever taste. love a fine woman who dresses so professional yet so casual, leaves alot of room for her delicacy to shine, leaves alot of room for her skin, leaves alot of room to easily take it off.

couldn't care less if she's old as sin, i'd fuck her till she feels as ripe and young as she pretends to be. she's two faces in the same crazy coin, coldly insane and hysterically insane, the idea of making her reach a breaking point on both fronts would be fucking sublime to me, fuck the hysterics out of her and fuck the wits out of her, make her squeal until she forgets everything she's ever known even for a short while, and let the warm breath exhale off her soft delicate lips.

Watch her look at me softly either with disgust or absolute pleasure, as her delicate skin reddens and she keeps breathing softly, could continue piercing her on where it counts or i could just hold her tightly and leave no room for her to breathe.

there are people, mermaids after that pretty neck. personal reasons, many reasons, but holy shit she is beautiful. listen if you're going to kill that fine wine of a lady, then you'd might aswell do your way with her before you continue with your business, or even better, "make her your business", for as long as the sun no longer shines. that would be absolute paradise, holy shit.

can't let her fair skin just go to waste like that yes? in the laws of this world that was made, she *can* be theoretically immortal.

and i like to believe her flesh is freshly restored to a ripe health when she applies her mermaid blood formula.

that's is some prime meat, wow.

i'd love to put that woman under my whim, tie her lovely wrists up to a nice sanitary table and fuck her to her wits end, till she's gratified, or atleast until i'm gratified.

and i would have all the time with her, any time, any place, she's not all too strong by herself i could fucking DOMINATE her.

could tease her a bit, leave her tied out in the open near the ocean as naked as she can be, ripe for the killing for any ocean god or vengeful mermaid who will lay eyes on the nice and delicate piece of retribution on a silver platter.

simply glorious, she'd be shaken and terrified, fine seasonings till i tap her where it counts and taste her, satisfying.

could shove her own medicine down her throat, bring homage to her hobby, tie her down to a table naked and exposed to any sharp equipment i have at my use.

could scare her to her wits, make her see her crimes at the perspective of her victims.

of course i wouldn't want to harm her, maybe i'd poke that fair skin, let it bleed a little bit, touch her for a bit and watch her moan and scream out of fear and or pleasure.

oh my oh my, it just gets me riled up to see a woman like that to be brought so low.

too satisfying and gratifying.

i'd lick her clit, fuck her and gently cut her flesh, smell that beautiful hair and i'll take a bite off it at her own expense.

i'd defile her scar, touch her face and press it at her own expense.

i want to see that woman in agony, i want to see her whooped and lashed, fucked and porked in all manners, defiled, tasty.

i want to soak up every ounce of her till the very last drop, suck off all the liquids off of her until she lies numb. i want to suck her tits dry, and pork her hotspot inbetween her well toned thighs.

i want to suck off every ounce of saliva in her mouth, i want to feel her tongue on everything i have in my body, i want that woman's soft mouth to be nurtured and wet for kissing.

i want to see her green jewel eyes till the sun don't shine and the moon dissapears.

i want to fuck that woman.

after animal cannibal animatic

[cinemacentral666]

The Element of Crime (1984)

Movie #1,142 • Ranking Lars von Trier #4

Let it be known that during this LVT filmography viewing I made the executive decision to only ever watch full director filmographies in chronological order. That had always been my preferred method, but I thought it would be best if, from time to time, I mixed up the order for [insert reasoning here]. This is the sixth or seventh Trier flick I've consumed (depending on how you want to count his two early shorter films and both the first two seasons of his Danish TV show) and it's essentially ground zero for the man's career. It's as weird and as bold of a debut feature that I've ever seen.

I feel like it's worth mentioning that I am now starting at the beginning and only going forward, because everything about this felt like a shock having digested some of his other work, most notably: his prime "Golden Heart Trilogy" of films (1996-2000) and his most recent work, 2018's The House That Jack Built. It felt like a different director and I say that in the most positive way. Some similarities arose, naturally. The sepia tones were visually similar to The Kingdom's (though more on this later). The conversational voice-over between main character Fisher and his Cairo hypnotist felt like a direct through-line to how the character of Virgil functions in Jack. And the general "frustrated search for something largely intangible that will ultimately disappoint if not fully horrify" evoked pretty much everything I've seen by the man in some way.

But structurally and compositionally, this felt like a whole new world. In fact, in many ways, it is a complete invention of Trier's. This "Europe" consists of fictional cities and towns where it's always night and everything is drenched in liquid. Despite a few grounding allusions, there is no specific state or country, just this cold, wet dystopia broadcast under yellowy sodium lights. The sets used and built for this are fantastic, each a kind of micro-labyrinth, a small mystery onto themselves cutting against the larger noir framework of the movie's plot: a man is on the hunt for a serial killer of small girls before he strikes again. Detective Fisher (Michael Elphick) navigates this spaces in a literal daze, as the entirety of the action is presented as the memory of a man, now an expatriate in Egypt, spilling his guts to a guy with a monkey on his shoulder. This is the first of two primates to get screen-time. The second, notably of the lower order, Fisher finds in a gutter, scared to death and confused, perhaps a stand in for the audience….

I believe that guy is a loris. To start your film with monkey and end it with a loris speaks to some theme of reverse evolution. The fascist nightmares we see are a product of no less. In fact, this – coupled with the elements of his earlier student work and up through his unfortunate "I'm a Nazi" comments – provide much of the framework for understanding Trier's motives on a larger scale. I do believe it goes beyond simple provocation and is worth explorin. I think he's trying to make sense of a world still drying out from the tsunami that was WWII. But I'll put a pin in it that for now before I get to watch the rest of his films.

The Element of Crime is not a movie made for easily digestible 'understanding' or textbook mystery reveals. Even when you get the gist/uncover the trick, he throws a mysterious postscript that shrouds things further. I'm still trying to make sense of these manic bald men…

LVT created a world here. His stellar framing, innovative shots, and glorious use of light all cut against the frantic, obtuse and occasionally obscene script in such a delightful way. Sure, maybe it's all an amalgamation of influence (certainly Andrei Tarkovsky and Lynch's Eraserhead among others) but it's still wholly more than the sum of its parts.

I took a weird route to get to this beginning. In a way, I'm glad I did, but I'm even more excited to keep going forward.

SCORE: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I’ll be counting down all of Lars Von Trier’s movies right here at @cinemacentral666 every Thursday through September 2023

[firebirdsdaughter]

Something I wish…

… Was that we had had a villain exclusive to Peter. Adler, Keller, James, Pratt, even Hagen and Rachel, their focus is on Neal, their connections are to Neal. Sure, we had Kramer, but he was more of an antagonist than an outright villain. Never tried to kill anyone, at least. Maybe if they hadn’t been cancelled they would have gotten around to it, but I’d’ve loved an arc villain who was more focused on Peter than Neal, or only focused on Neal bc of Peter. Some old case, some enemy from the past. Peter had a life outside for Neal, and he’s good, I’m sure he made some enemies of his own. Woulda been nice to have the plot flipped or even just have the target be Peter himself for once.

[c-is-for-circinate]

For a long, large part of my life, being queer in a media landscape--finding queerness in a media landscape--has meant theft.

I'm a Fandom Old, somehow, these days, older than most and younger than some, in that way that's grown associated with grumpy crotchetyness and shotguns on porches and back in my day, we had to wade through our Yahoo Groups mailing lists uphill both ways, boring and irrelevant anecdotes from Back In Those Days when homophobia clearly worked differently than it does now, probably because we weren't trying hard enough. I've seen a lot of stories through the years. I've read a lot of fanfic. (More days than not, for the past twenty years. I've read a lot of fanfic.)

When people my age start groaning and sighing at conversations about representation and queerbaiting, when we roll our eyes and drag all the old war stories out again in the face of AO3 is terrible and Not Good Enough, so often what we say is: you Young Folks Today have no idea how hard, how scary, how limiting it was to be queer anywhere Back In Those Days. Including online, maybe especially online, including in a media landscape that hated us so much more than any one you've ever known. And that is true. Always and everywhere, again and again, it's true, we remember, it's true.

We don't talk so much about the joy of it.

Online fan spaces were my very first queer communities, ever. I was thirteen, I was fourteen, I was fifteen--I was a lonely, over-precocious "gifted kid" two years too young for my grade level in an all-girls' Catholic school in the suburbs--I lived in a world where gay people were a rumor and an insult and a news story about murder. I was straight, of course, obviously, because real people were straight and anyway I was weird enough already--I couldn't be two things strange, couldn't be gay too, but--well, I could read the stories. I could feel things about that. I would have those stories to help me, a few years later, when I knew I couldn't call myself straight any more.

And those stories were theft. There was never any doubt about that. We wrote disclaimers at the top of every fic, with the specter of Anne Rice's lawyers around every corner. We hid in back-corners of the internet, places you could only find through a link from a link from a link on somebody else's recs page, being grateful for the tiny single-fandom archives when you found them, grateful for the webrings where they existed. It was theft, all of it, the stories about characters we did not own, the videotaped episodes on your best friend's VHS player, one single episode pulled off of Limewire over the course of three days.

It was theft, we knew, to even try and find ourselves in these stories to begin with. How many fics did I read in those days about two men who'd always been straight, except for each other, in this one case, when love was stronger than sexual orientation? We stole our characters away from the heterosexual lives they were destined to have. We stole them away from writers and producers and TV networks who work overtime to shower them in Babes of the Week, to pretend that queerness was never even an option. This wasn't given to us. This wasn't meant for us. This wasn't ours to have, ever, ever in the first place. But we took it anyway.

And oh, my friends, it was glorious.

We took it. We stole. And again and again, for years and years and years, we turned that theft into an art. We looked for every opening, every crack in every sidewalk where a little sprout of queerness might grow, and we claimed it for our own and we grew whole gardens. We grew so sly and so skilled with it, learning to spot the hints of oh, this could be slashy in every new show and movie to come our way. Do you see how they left these character dynamics here, unattended on the table? How ripe they are for the pocketing. Here, I'll help you carry them. We'll make off with these so-called straight boys, and we only have to look back if somebody sets out another scene we want for our own.

We were thieves, all of us, and that was fine and that was fair, because to exist as queer in the world was theft to begin with. Stolen time, stolen moments--grand larceny of the institution of marriage, breaking and entering to rob my mother's hopes for grandchildren. Every shoplifted glance at the wrong person in the locker room (and it didn't matter if we never peeked, never dared, they called us out on it anyway). Every character in every fic whose queerness became a crime against this ex-wife, that new love interest. Every time we dared steal ourselves away from the good straight partners we didn't want to date.

And: we built ourselves a den, we thieves, wallpapered in stolen images and filled to the brim with all the words we'd written ourselves. We built ourselves a home, and we filled it with joy. Every vid and art and fic, every ship, every squee. Over and over, every straight boy protagonist who abandoned all womankind for just this one exception with his straight boy protagonist partner found gay orgasms and true love at the end.

Over and over, we said: this isn't ours, this isn't meant to be ours, you did not give this to us--but we are taking it anyway. We will burglarize you for building blocks and build ourselves a palace. These stories and this place in the world is not for us, but we exist, and you can't stop us. It's ours now, full of color and noise, a thousand peoples' ideas mosaic'ed together in celebration. We made this, and it will never be just yours again. You won't ever truly get it back, no matter how many lawyers you send, not completely. We keep what we steal.

.

Things shifted over time, of course. That's good. That's to be celebrated. Nobody should have to steal to survive. It should not be a crime, should not feel like a crime, to find yourself and your space in the world.

There were always content creators who could slip a little wink in when they laid out their wares, oh what's this over here, silly me leaving this unattended where anybody could grab it, of course there might be more over by the side door if you come around the alleyway (but if anybody asks, you didn't get this from ME). We all watched Xena marry Gabrielle, in body language and between the lines. We sat around and traded theories and rumors about whether the people writing Due South knew what they were doing when they sent their buddy cops off into the frozen north alone together at the end of the show, if they'd done it on purpose, if they knew. But over the years, slowly, thankfully, the winks became less sly.

A teenage boy put his hand on another teenage boy's hand and said, you move me, and they kissed on network TV, in a prime-time show, on FOX, and the world didn't burn down. Here and there, where they wanted to, where they could without getting caught by their bosses and managers, content creators stopped subtly nudging people around the back door and started saying, "Here. This is on offer here too, on purpose. You get to have this, too."

And of course, of course that came with a whole host of problems too. Slide around to the back door but you didn't get this from me turned into it's an item on our special menu, totally legit, you've just got to ask because the boss throws a fit if we put it out front. Shopkeepers and content creators started advertising on the sly, come buy your fix here!, hiding the fine print that says you still have to take what you've purchased home and rebuild it with your semi-legal IKEA hacks. Maybe they'll consider listing that Destiel or Sterek as a full-service menu item next year. Is that Crowley/Aziraphale the real thing or is it lite?

And those problems are real and the conversations are worth having, and it's absolutely fair to be frustrated that you can't find the ship you want on sale in anything like your color and size in a vast media landscape packed full of discount hetships and fast-fashion m/f. It's fair to be angry. It's fair to be frustrated. Queerbait is a word that exists for a reason.

There's a part of me that hurts, though, every time the topic comes up. It's a confusing, bad-mannered part of me, but it's still very real. And it's not because I'm fawning for crumbs, trying to be the Good, Non-Threatening Gay. It's not that I'm scared and traumatized by the thought of what might happen if we dare raise our voices and ask for attention. (Well. Not mostly. I'll always remember being quiet and scared and fifteen, but it's been a long two decades since then. I know how to ask for a hell of a lot more now.)

It's because I remember that cozy, plush-wallpapered den of joyful thieves. I remember you keep what you steal.

Every single time--every time--when a story I love sets a couple of characters out on a low, unguarded table, perfectly placed to be pilfered on the sly and taken home and smushed together like a couple of dolls, my very first thought is always, always joy. Always, that instinct says, yay! Says, this is ours now. As soon as I go home and crawl into that pillow-fort den, my instincts say, I will surely find people already at work combing through spoils and finding new ways to combine them, new ways to make them our own. I know there's fic for that. I've already seen fic for that, and I wasn't really interested last time, but the new store display's got my brain churning, and I can't wait to see what the crew back at the hideout does with this.

Every time, that's where my brain goes. And oh, when I realize the display's put out on purpose, that somebody snuck in a legitimate special menu item, when the proprietor gives me the nod and wink and says, you don't have to come around the side, I know it's not much but here--there is so much joy and relief and hope in me from that! Oh, what we can make with these beautiful building blocks. Oh what a story we can craft from the pieces. Oh, the things we can cobble together. Look at that, this one's a little skimpy on parts but we can supplement it, this one's got a whole outline we can fill in however we want. This one technically comes semi-preassembled, and that's boring as shit and a pain to take back apart, but that's fine, we'll manage. We're artists and thieves. I bet someone's pulling out the AU saw to cut it to pieces already.

And then I get back to our den, which has moved addresses a dozen times over the years and mostly hangs out on Tumblr now (and the roof leaks and the landlord's sketchy as fuck but at least they don't charge rent, and we've made worse places our own). And I show up, ready for joy--ready for a dozen other people who saw that low-hanging fruit on that unguarded table, who got the nod and wink about the special menu item, who're ready to get so excited about this newest haul. Did you see what we picked up? The theft was so easy, practically begging to be stolen. The last owner was an idiot with no idea what to do with it. The last owner knew exactly what it could become, bless their heart, under a craftsman with more time on their hands, so they looked away on purpose at just the right time to let me take it home. I show up every time ready for our space, the place that fed me on joy and self-confidence when I was fifteen and starving. The place that taught me, yes, we are thieves, because it is RIGHT to take what we need, and the beautiful things we create are their own justification. We are thieves, and that's wonderful, because nothing is handed to us and that means we get to build our own palaces. We get to keep everything we steal.

I go home, and even knowing the world is different, my instincts and heart are waiting for that. And I walk in the door, and I look at my dash, and I glance over at twitter, and--

And people are angry, again. Angry at the slim pickings from the hidden special menu. So, so tired and angry, at once again having to steal.

And they're right to be! Sometimes (often, maybe) I think they're angry at the wrong people--more angry with the shopkeeper who offers the bite-sized sampler platter of side characters or sneaks their queer content in on the special menu than the ones who don't include it at all. But it's not wrong to be mad that Disney's once again advertising their First Gay Character only to find out it's a tiny sprinkle of a one-line extra on an otherwise straight sundae. It's not wrong to be furious at the world because you've spent your whole life needing to be a thief to survive. It's far from wrong. I'm angry about it too.

But this was my den of thieves, my chop shop, my makerspace. Growing up in fandom, I learned to pick the locks on stories and crack the safes of subtext at the very same time I learned to create. They were the same thing, the same art. We are thieves, my heart says, we are thieves, and that's what makes us better than the people we steal from. We deconstruct every time we create. We build better things out of the pieces.

And people are angry that the pre-fab materials are too hard to find, the pickings too slim, the items on sale too limited? Yes, of course they are, of course they should be--but my heart. Oh, my heart. Every single time, just a little bit, it breaks.

Of course the stories are terrible (they have always been terrible). Of course they are, but we are thieves. We steal the best parts and cobble them back together and what we make is better than it was before. The craftsman's eye that cases a story for weak points, for blank spaces, for anywhere we can fit a crowbar and pry apart this casing--that's skill and art and joy. Of course we shouldn't have to, of course we shouldn't have to, but I still love it. I still want it, crave it. I still thrill every time I see it, a story with hairline cracks that we can work open with clever hands to let the queer in.

That used to be cause for celebration, around here. I ask him to go back to the ruins of Aeor with me, two men together alone on an expedition in the frozen north, it feels like a gift. And I understand why some people take it as an insult. I understand not good enough. I understand how something can feel like a few drops of water to someone dying of thirst, like a slap in the face. If it was so easy to sneak it hidden onto the special menu, to place it on the unguarded side table for someone else to run off to, why not let it sit out front and center in the first place? I know it's frustrating. It should be. We should fight. We should always fight. I know why.

But my heart, oh, my heart. My heart only knows what it's been taught. My heart sees, this thing right here, the proprietor left it there for you with a nod and a wink because they Get It. It's not put together yet, but it's better that way anyway. It's so full of pieces to pull apart and reassemble. I bet they've got a whole mosaic wall going up at home already. We can bring it home and make it OURS, more than it was ever theirs, forget half of what it came from and grow a new garden in what remains.

And I go home to find anger, and my heart breaks instead.

[poipoipoi-2016]

I think the finesse here is that everyone's basically correct.

It's RARE that they explicitly say "Stop enforcing laws" . Though my current city just said explicitly to stop enforcing traffic laws because they were giving too many black people traffic tickets.

American police are a (more professional than you'd expect) law unto their own... whose main incentives are surviving long enough to get their pensions and also maybe 3% of the force who really REALLY love beating the hell out of people. And then the other 97% are, once again, not raising waves because of that glorious glorious pension.

The LAPD is a bunch of literal street gangs we gave badges to, most actual PD's are at least better than the literal Crips.

We also don't have nearly enough of them by global standards and then we try to make up for it with prison, but yes, I'd strongly expect the malls in the hood to have fewer mall cops and way way way fewer actual cops backing them up. Hence a murder clearance rate of like... 40%.

The one exception to that? The NYPD which is something like 80% of a comparable European force, has fewer excess force complaints than you'd expect... and has managed to keep the post-COVID Bronx at a dull roar of 10 murders/100K residents which is lower than Portland despite being on the wrong/right end of literally EVERY correlation (Incomes, density, immigration rates, ESL rates, yes percent black...).

And even then, those cops totally respond to incentives which is why the SFPD arrested a third fewer people pretty much the second Boudin got into office, looked at the Floyd conviction, and kept doing it to the point traffic citations are down >95%. Because everyone can see that writing on the wall and they're filling out suburban job applications while sitting in a donut shop collecting overtime pay.

And the net result HAS been fewer urban cops, those urban cops doing a lot less, and meanwhile the public parks are full of random sketchy homeless dudes doing things as well as the downtown sidewalks right in front of the cool old theater playing historic movies.

And you know, I'm really not a fan.

/Which gave Boudin a ton of time to personally call crime victims and drop actual conviction rates of those remaining 2/3rds by 40% or so, subtle issue.

//Also see the current discourse where a bunch of women on Twitter post a video of NYC subway crime and go "Why won't anyone intervene!" and the sort of people who would intervene go "Because you arrested Penny. I mean that. Violence is a box and when I open it, I don't totally know where it's going to lead. So I won't open the box.... ever anymore. Not in blue cities at least."

The weather doesn't help (The sheer number of surprise thunderstorms is now up to two hands and the number of surprise unexpected thunderstorms with hurricane force winds is now two), but yeah....

[blzzrdstryr]

Moth into flame. Yandere!Kaeya x gn!reader

Wordcount: 4k

A.N: It’s very self-indulgent, but I had this idea for 2 weeks now and needed to get it out. I’ve never written fanfiction and I am not a native speaker, so bear with me.

CW: Violence, unhealthy relationship

For as long as you know Kaeya, he feels different from other people. Odd in the way that empty alleyways and dark rooms are odd, a sense of barely concealed danger lurking underneath the layers of charm and friendliness. You always felt his darker nature, but never questioned it before - you are an adventurer after all, the danger is your thrill.

He must have known that you aren’t particularly repulsed by this side of him, as his friendly facade morphed into something darker right in front of you for a couple of times. You doubt a liar and an actor as skilled as he is would make such amateurish mistakes.

No, he can’t be ignorant about how his more ominous part is what makes your veins sing from the strange mix of fascination and fear. That must be why he kept flashing his less amiable side, enticing you further in his grasp, and you gladly took step after step in the carefully crafted trap he prepared just for you.

How could you not? Kaeya is charming and dangerous, like wildfire  and you are nothing but a moth, too blinded by his light to stop and just think.

And now, seeing an irrefutable, but faux proof of the crimes you didn’t commit in his hands, you feel it - how searing his casual coldness can be. Right now, Kaeya Alberich is no human in your heart, he is a small piece of abyss that made its way out of Khaenri’ahn ruins to drag you down the cosmic darkness, where you possibly truly belong.

***

Kaeya both loves and hates your first meeting and he avoids reminiscing about it. It sounds strange, right?

Back then he was still a part of Ragnvindr household and Diluc treated him like a brother, and maybe that is a small part of a reason why he feels such aversion to recalling it - those memories are tinted both by fond nostalgia and bitter loss, enough to make him itch for a bottle in his hand.

Both Kaeya and you were green rookies - a knight fresh from training and a beginner adventurer, accidentally teaming up against a gang of treasure hoarders. It all ended up with both of you victorious, but injured. Kaeya helped you to walk back to Monstadt as one of the criminal's bolts wounded your leg, enough to make you wince from pain at every step.

In the middle of the trail he suddenly grew bored from your barely suppressed pained expressions and soft pants, no matter how cute they were to him, and decided to carry you, just like the groom would carry his  bride. He quipped and joked about it, as he made his way to the city's general direction, and you laughed and made some witty remarks in return.

At the moment he didn't think too much of it - you were another adventurer in his eyes back then, a cute, but insignificant passerby in his life and he was just playing a role of gallant knight in shiny armor. Give it a week or two and he would forget your face and your name.

But he didn't.

Just as you were approaching city gates, a miracle happened - red vision materialized right in your hands. You clutched it tightly to the chest, a bright smile appearing on your face. You turned your head to Kaeya, and he could have swore you were using your newly acquired Pyro on him.

How else could he feel so warm inside all of a sudden?

He couldn't help but recall your smile for weeks after that.

***

Your second meeting happened when you were returning to Mondstadt after your first long expedition. Shortly after the word of your Pyro vision reached Cyrus' ears, he was dead set on sending you to Dragonspine to help other adventurers. You were hesitant at first, but then your natural thirst for thrill combined with a hefty pay he promised won over you, and here you were - carrying several stacks of starsilver, absolutely exhausted and frozen to the very bones walking back to Mondstadt.

To say that you were unprepared would be an understatement of the year - even with pyro vision the cold seemed absolutely unbearable and to make matters worse you almost had a run in with a frostarm lawachurl. To avoid hopeless fight, you had to hide behind the tall snowdrift, almost submerging your body in it, as you both admired and dreaded the ice cladden giant.

Nonetheless, you acquired all of the starsilver the adventure guild needed, and now you trekked through the forest as the sun started to set.

Straining your eyes to see through the heavy rain and approaching darkness you saw it - a bright red smudge against the dark tree bark and unmistakable scent of blood. Such stark contrasts were enough to shake off the tiredness. You slowly made your way to the source of the stench, both fearing and anticipating what may reveal itself to your curious eyes.

There was a silhouette of an injured man that started to slowly morph into a vaguely familiar figure as you got closer. Seeing that there was no threat, you threw your ore to the ground and ran to the unconscious person. It was that knight who helped you to defeat treasure hoarders, Kaeya.

He looked horrible - his normally rich bronze skin now looked ashen and grey from the bloodloss, the face that radiated smugness seemed as if it already belonged on the corpse, the blue vest that he was wearing dyed almost completely in purple from the bloodloss, but the most horrible thing was a shallow but wide gash on his chest.

Not wasting any second, you pulled out your trusty dagger, and sliced the vest to inspect the wound. As you pulled obstructing cloth away you noticed another detail - small burns, surrounding the gash, as if someone slashed Kaeya with something hot enough to scorch, but not hot enough to close the wound and most unexpectedly, faintly glowing blue orb. A cryo vision.

You sat on your knees to put his vision in your pocket and clean his wounds. It still bled, as you frantically searched for a way to close it your eyes fell on the small burns around the wound and suddenly a crazy idea popped up in your head.

With shaking hands you used a piece of sliced vest to muffle him and prevent Kaeya from accidentally biting his tongue off, and then you took the dagger again heating it up. You heard about cauterization from older adventurers, but hoped that you wouldn’t resort to using it.

Kaeya’s pained groans were muffled by the makeshift gag, yet it wasn’t enough to wake him. After you made sure that his bleeding stopped, you removed your outerwear and wrapped Kaeya up. You cursed, as you hoisted a heavier body on your back, an exhaustion you have forgotten moments ago hitting you with a renewed strength.

The path to the Mondstadt with a new burden on your back now felt ten times longer. Even if you two were barely an acquaintance, a cold coil of fear for Kaeya's life still set in the pit of your stomach, and it seemed that no amount of fire would make you feel warm again.

***

Waking up in the infirmary was one of the biggest surprises in Kaeya’s life.

There were times when he was sure of his imminent death - an abandoned shivering child all alone in the forest, a stranger in the strange land, a prince of nothing with the weight of the whole dying kingdom left on his shoulders; a rainy night reeking of death and loss, grief and fury burning him just as much as incandescent claymore, rapidly growing pool of bright red blood, just as red as a…

Kaeya was okay with dying - it would be a nice ending to his story. The dead saviour of an already dead nation, an outlander casted out from the only semblance of home he had. He liked the irony.

He could have asked for help right after the duel, calling out that person’s name, he knew that that person wouldn’t leave him if he was dying, but the possibility of seeing hatred in those eyes was too much for him. The second a fiery blade cut through his flesh was when Kaeya decided to die.

And honestly, he couldn't continue to live once he confirmed what kind of a monster he is - the first thing he felt when he saw Crepus Rangvindr, a person who took him in, kept him fed, warm, safe and clothed all these years, a person who loved him more than his own father did, slowly disintegrating under the strain of delusion Kaeya felt no sadness. No, a relief, as if he was freed of a tiresome burden came instead.

Kaeya was disgusted and horrified for even experiencing such feelings in the first place, but he also couldn't do anything with it - for the last few years he was torn apart between Mondstadt and his homeland, and Crepus’ death should have solved his internal dilemma, driving the final nail in the coffin.

Sometimes he felt as if he was no person at all, just an abyssal creature that took on a human form and was allowed to live only to be unleashed on Teyvat. The time at Khaenri’ah was something that stuck with him for the rest of his life - the fear and resignation he experienced there heavily imprinted on his brain.

Every once in a while he had impulses to lie, to hurt and do as he pleases, for a long time he stopped these urges at the root, maintaining the illusion of normalcy he built for Ragnvindr household. He knew it was from Khaenri’ah, a cursed  nation of sinners with all of its glorious legacy lost to the sands of time. Immoral impulses were something that would have helped him to survive among the endless darkness that surrounded god-forsaken place.

“Ugh”, he tried to get up, to shake intrusive and self-deprecating thoughts away, but failed. Pain, like melted iron, slowly spread from his chest to the points of his fingers in a second. Even breathing was hard - his entire body ached and burned, a shaking hand slowly touched bandaged torso. Alberich winced as he remembered why exactly it was aching.

“Sir Kaeya, you are already awake! Please, don’t move.”, pretty but forgettable nun fussed over him, rechecking his bandages and then taking out a foul smelling medicine. She made Kaeya drink it all. He still cringing from the bitter taste, half sat on the bed, leaning on the headrest, tried to flash her his most charming smile and asked:

“Do you know how I got there?”, it seemed his charms did work on the girl, as she started to describe the previous night in great detail: what she was doing prior to his arrival, how dark the sky was, how worried she was when she saw his battered body, how exhausted the adventurer and guards that delivered him looked.

“Do you happen to know the adventurer’s name? I would like to say my thanks once I get better”

“Oh, it was [First], I think, but I am not sure.  I believe I saw a pyro vision” Kaeya slid in the lying position again, as he remembered you, his first and only crush. Half buried feelings ignited in his chest with a renewed vigor.

Seeing that Kaeya paid her no mind, the nun headed to the exit of the infirmary, but right before she left she turned to Kaeya again, saying that you will visit him tomorrow.

****

Just as you thought Kaeya was conscious today. After you managed to carry him back to Mondstadt, worried but distrustful guards at city gates took away your load and delivered him to the Church of Favonius. You insisted at coming with them, still anxious for Kaeya’s life. Nuns almost showed you out of the infirmary and you, defeated, had to go home.

The next day you spent looking for the abandoned starsilver, thoughts occupied both by Kaeya and the payment Cyrus promised. Fortunately, the stacks lied right where you discarded them and after a quick trip back to the adventurer's guild, you had nothing to do - weekly commissions done days prior, so you decided to spend some time inside the city for once.

As you navigated the city square you felt the tense mood that hung in the air, Mondstadt usually cheerful and carefree now seemed uncharacteristically gloomy. You later learned that the local wine tycoon, Crepus Ragnvindr, died in the accident and his son and young the youngest captain in history of Ordo Favonius, Diluc, left the city and abandoned the knights.

Despite spending almost all of your time outside the city gates, even you were aware of the city's happenings and certainly heard about two dashing young gentlemen. Kaeya was rumored to be a foreign orphan taken in by Crepus and Diluc as you remembered is a claymore swinging pyro user - a picture of Kaeya’s injuries came to mind. Scattered details started to slowly gather into a sound theory.

A fight after Crepus' death(was accident Kaeya’s fault?), that resulted in Diluc abandoning the knights(Are knights also at fault?).

You quickly brushed it off, as theorizing without the concrete evidence was one of the biggest mistakes one could make. So instead of building baseless speculations, you decided to visit one of the key people, Kaeya. Occupied by your thoughts and curiosity, the travel to the church seemed almost momentarily.

Stepping in the infirmary you were hit with a strong bitter scent of the medicine, but Kaeya sitting on the bed seemed fine, if not a bit tired. He was reading a book, but put it aside as he noticed you and gave you a warm smile.“I remember you, [First], you were the one who saved me I was told. Seems I should make it up to you”

“No need for it, you were dying”, you head to him, a hand searching for the vision in the travelling bag. His smile doesn’t drop, even when a somewhat awkward silence hangs around you. Finally, you exclaim: “I found a vision near you, and kept it so it doesn’t get lost or anything”.

“Oh, that’s a surprise, give it to me” the vision in his hands glows alive with a gentle blue light, a small ice shard forming between his fingers and you find yourself holding your breath. Kaeya looks less impressed than you, a strange emotion written on his face,as he looks from the blue orb, to the ice, to your amazed face.

“It may sound rude, but do you remember who injured you?” Kaeya doesn’t appear phased, slowly blinking, a confusion written on his face, as he looks up in contemplation. “Hm, no, can’t remember anything” You shift a little, disappointment not reaching your face. Was Kaeya lying or not?

“I hope I didn’t mess up your adventuring schedule” Kaeya murmured, leaning a little closer to you.

“No. I planned on spending a week inside the city. Why do you ask?”

“Well” he smirks, “maybe a brave and strong adventurer will lend a hand to poor injured me and”, you felt your face slowly heating up “escort me to Good Hunter, the food here is abysmal and maybe your company and decent meal will clear my head a little”

Only a day later you realized that it was your first date.

***

Kaeya likes challenges, and maybe that is a reason why he’s so drawn to you - you’re smart, just not people-smart, and you have enough intuition to guide you away from the schemes and plans he tries to pull off. Of course, he wouldn’t risk your life or general wellbeing - he likes your presence far too much to do that - but the possible less savory reactions he could gauge out of you were too alluring to miss out - frustration, fear, anger.

Alberich is frustrated - a hunger that was ignited by you grew greater and greater with each day - he wants to see so much of you, see you in pain, see you helpless, see you defeated. Would you cry, would you yell, would you curse at him?

He tried to resist it in the beginning - just as he did when he was still a part of Ragnvindr family - but he failed. Maybe, Diluc’s dismissal of him and abandonment was something that broke Kaeya in the way that Khaenri’ah couldn’t. That rainy day he learned one lesson - everyone leaves, and Kaeya didn’t doubt that you would too.

You are an adventurer after all, as free as a wind. It’s just pure luck that someone as curious and thrill-seeking as you hasn't moved to the other nations in search of excitement.

Kaeya feels threatened.

Over the years, you both fell in the comfortable, but vague place between friendship and something-more-than-friendship,a status quo of sorts. You were a loner at heart - fine with keeping almost everyone at arm’s length and Kaeya, to his disappointment, found that even his charms wouldn’t bend your will.

He could see how uncomfortable yet excited you got, when he showed his less considerate side - when he arrested and fought criminals, when he pulled off his complex plans, when he turned and twisted the words of others to make them scream and writhe and beg. Oh, of course you tried to hide it, your face becoming akin to a mask of stone, but there were other tells - the shine in your eyes, the body language and accelerated breath.

Kaeya also knew what an excitement glutton you are - there is a flame inside of you, needing to consume and devour new tastes, sights, adventures and mysteries. You are predictable in that way, he has a gut feeling that you are wary of him, but the promise of a new enigmatic crime that needs your assistance is almost always enough to lure you back into his arms.

And now he has a new problem at hands - his failed plan. Months of subtle work and manipulation led and were supposed to build up your feelings for this. A public love confession, both sudden and extravagant. Kaeya thought that someone as awkward as you, would cave in under the pressure he would put you through by making his love public.

However you didn’t, even if some, if not most of the onlookers gasped in the shocked disappointment - Kaeya was sure that you two looked like a would-be-couple to the observer’s eye. You stuttered some apologies, hid your face and almost ran away from him.

It grates on Kaeya’s nerves in a special way, annoyance slowly building up. Fortunately, he has a strategy to relieve it, by methodically destroying it’s source.

***

“Thank you, let’s do the next commissions together” you wave goodbye to the fellow adventurer, missing an indiscernible look cavalry captain gives both of you.

Only when the said adventurer leaves, does Kaeya step out of the shadow, his single eyes wholly focused on you. After the confession you started to purposefully avoid him - something that Kaeya thought was possible, but didn’t entertain it enough.

Seeing him is what almost sends you to retreat - relationships are messy, especially after failed public confessions, there’s too much burden now and you never felt the desire to work on any of them leaving everything to take its course. Instead, you stand there, enduring his cold gaze and warm smile, hit by a sudden realization of how childish your thoughts are.

Kaeya must have taken your passiveness as an invitation, as his hand snakes around your shoulder, throwing you off your internal monologue. “[First], I have an interesting case again” he leans in, his breath tickling your neck, “and I need an assistant again, the pay will be like last time”.

In spite of your current discomfort you almost space out, body habitually relaxing near him. “What the thing about?” the cases that Kaeya involves you in are always bizarre and something never seen before, a mystery awaiting to be solved.

He begins describing it to you - a strange string of deaths of young adventurers, all of whom were visionless and most curiously they all died off duty. Young men and women did their commissions, plunged in the domains and fought with monsters, but died inside the city walls, inside their houses and beds, surrounded by safety and comfort.

Kaeya shares that his informant found a hearsay that there were some interesting potions on the black market and he needs you to infiltrate as a visionless adventurer and buy potions, as much as possible.

This evening you leave the city, your heart full of trust for Kaeya, even if your relationship did take a colder turn.

***

You, as Kaeya predicted, still believed him.  Alberich almost felt bad for exploiting and twisting your trust in him , but as he supposed there was nothing more he could do with himself. Your visage filled his head day and nights, sometimes he even daydreamed about the life he would have with you. It would be delightful - to have you underneath his thumb, ready for any whim and perversion he could come up with.

He came to the Angel’s share and ordered a glass of wine, ignoring judgemental stare Diluc pointed at him. He could almost hear Ragnvindr saying “already” and calling Knights inefficient and lazy drunkards. Kaeya happily took a sip of the liquid - all of his plans always carried an element of risk, so the cavalry captain felt a bit agitated. What if you don’t touch the potions? What if the gang will escape with them?

Nevertheless, if you did touch it or not wouldn’t really matter, as catching you red-handed was more important. He needed to make you look guilty - you worked with him unofficially, which meant that no one knew about it, not even Vile. Sure no one would take your word over his, even if you left significant evidence of your innocence, after all a lot of knights are weak to bribes.

He almost hummed, as he imagined things he would do to you once you were imprisoned and completely in his power. He, of course, would save you from the dank dark cell, finding an “overlooked” detail, but not before breaking and molding you a little.

Finishing his wine, he went to the knight’s headquarters, to request the assistance of other knights in the arrest of a dangerous criminal, a spring evident in his step.

***

It was treasure hoarders again, you silently cursed, while dodging one of the attacks. You weren’t the best actor and within the minutes they exposed you. Fighting among the fragile vials wasn’t the best idea, so you moved the fight to the outside. Once they all run after you, you jump over them, raining a constant stream of fire over them. Some of them started to scream, a pure agony written on their face.

Some of the hoarders used a hidden gas bomb, submerging the whole place in smoke and using it to run away. You didn’t run after them, and headed inside instead. There was a significant change: some of the vials that contained transparent liquid now were bright red. You took one of them in and gasped - it felt so warm in your hands - and then you recognized your own elemental energy.

Out of curiosity you reached for the “uncontaminated” one, the colorless liquid rapidly bloomed with scarlet red, as your vision came to life without your command. Was it that deadly potion that Kaeya talked about? You felt how it sucked some of the pyro energy from you, then it must transmit collected energy to its consumer. No wonder all of those adventurers died - without a vision their bodies weren’t used to receiving and processing such amounts of elemental energy.

You tried to take the vials with the “clear” potion, but no matter what you did all of them got dyed in red the second you stood a little closer. Sighing in defeat you collected ones contaminated with your energy and prepared to head back to Mondstadt. You needed to warn Kaeya to take some regular knights with him if Albedo needed samples for analysis.

Suddenly there was a sound of several people running up to you, a Favonius armor coming into the sight. You almost smiled as you saw Kaeya, happy that he decided to help you, until you heard it: “Arrest them!”

[sanghyukstattoos]

Care

Summary: Almost any day now.

Genre: crime au; fluff-fluff; smut-smut-smut (spanking and submissive behaviour, amongst others)

Characters: B.I I Kim Hanbin x reader x Bobby I Kim Jiwon

A/N: None of the images in the collage are mine, please refer to here for more; For SF9 writings, read here and for iKON, read here~~

The place is a motel, straight out of an American movie. You would not see a place like this anywhere else in the world, or even visit one for that matter. But he had insisted. He brought you here, on a whim, spontaneously. The bed is fine, less than clean but not dirty either. Upon first glance, the place is retro. ''Out of an American movie'', you had said out loud. He chuckled, ''I guess it is.''

Now he is balls deep in you. Caressing your side, in a soothing manner, soothing your cries and whimpers because of the stretch he causes. But it's more than that. The cries of his name that fall from your lips is because of how he pleasures you. Surges of arousal rocks you to and from. With every touch he fills you.

Hot and cavernous are his kisses. You only lean away for breath. Ironic that it has to be something so intimate to occur in such a setting. With every kiss, your hot cries are muffled, like he wants you all to himself. So that no one else can hear you. It is the small space between the two of you, within which all the sounds of resulting pleasure come from, that cultivates such precious memories.

Maybe it was the thrill of running away. From the police you were running, gasping for breath. You wonder if you are going to go to jail. That can not happen. There was conflict of the mind. You were scared, when you were running through the barbed-wired gates but for a brief moment, you looked at the two of them and laughed. Such a weird moment it was; you can't stop thinking about it.

''Let's play some music'' he had said. As he kissed your collarbone and fluttered down your breasts, taking a perk bud into his mouth, hot and heavily, music played through the speaker. In between fast- paced and slow-paced, regular maybe, it played in the background. It was like nature, enough to leave an impression but also enough to pass by.

Hanbin sucked on the skin above your breasts, skirting the area with the warm touch of his lips, his mouth doing it's dirty work. He loves tasting you, the smell of your skin would embrace him too, in this act. Without Jiwon. The atmosphere is different, more serious. With Jiwon it would be light, some jokes would be thrown around. Where is Jiwon?

Out taking a risk. He could be caught. You and Hanbin are here, without a care in the world. Finish what you start. A couple of thoughts are involved in this. He absolutely needs to be naked with you, to let go of all his worries. Motivated by his concerns about the three of you getting caught by the police? High off adrenaline? Whatever it is, you push him on his back, straddling him with a bright smile.

Moans and groans ensue from the man underneath you, whose chest you have your hands roam on, freely. Exploring. Your mouth falls open, jaw slacks when you sink onto his hard cock, circling your hips. The two of you are way past any concerns at this point. He caresses your backside, kneading the flesh in his hand.

You fall forward, on his chest. He slapped your backside, rather harshly, eliciting a moan from you. Anything he does would be pleasurable to you right now. Not less than twenty minutes later, Jiwon comes back. Flash of fear radiates throughout your chest. Your first instinct is to freeze but Hanbin's isn't. He covers you with his body, shielding you from view.

You look like you are caught. You can not see much but you relax. It's Jiwon's chuckle, ''You guys are doing this? Go on, it's not like I haven't seen her naked before.''. You mumble something for Jiwon to shut up, which he laughs at, ruffling your hair before dropping off the groceries on the table.

''Shit you scared me man.'' Hanbin murmurs, ''Plus, we were done, just cuddling.'', he motions, wincing as he slips out of you and into his jeans. You lay on the bed for some time, contemplating, looking outside with your limbs splayed all over the sheets. In a moment, you find them in the bathroom.

Jiwon is freshening up, all his clothes removed, hastily placed on the counter. He only wears his boxers. You grab your shirt from the side, putting it on. Jiwon momentarily loses his train of thought when he glances at you. ''What was I saying? Ah'' was what he said, welcoming you with a hug.

The conversation stops short. He hugs you, in relief, I'm back, so to say. He nuzzles himself in your hair, breathing in the scent of home, what it smells like. Committing it to memory just in case he does not come back anymore. Hanbin looks up from his phone, smiling at the two of you. It can not be the same without either of you or something like that, he thinks.

''What happened?'' you ask in the embrace with Jiwon. It sparks a need from him, he's open to the idea since there's a bed big enough to fit the three of you out there. He needs you, but not now. He has something to tell you first.

''Let's get out of here first.'' he motions to the bed that makes up for most of the room.

Hanbin doesn't say anything, he follows you out into the room. ''We have time, we can stay here for sometime. Unless the two of you want to get out of here, which is perfectly fine by me. Actually, I think we should move.'', Jiwon looks out the room, confirming his idea.

Hanbin seats you in between his legs, his chest touching your back and opposite Jiwon who is close enough to touch your knees. He rubs your sides, blowing out air in nervousness. He tries to keep calm. He can't lose his calm now, especially not in front of the two of you. Shit like that is contagious.

''Where should we move?'' Hanbin asks. This has to be thought out carefully. Choices have to be rationalised right now. The more choices the better, but then it would feel as if it was wrong, like this can't be right.

After that conversation, Jiwon takes the two of you to the pool he found earlier. To relax. You feel that he's doing this because you won't be able to rest, maybe for a really long time. Jiwon thinks hard to himself that he wants the three of you to be together. More peacefully as compared to the situation that you currently are in. Maybe in a foreign country, relaxing on the beachside, something like that.

He'll make sure that it happens, just the three of you. He knows that you aren't one for settling down but it's better than going to jail. That's how it is at this point. Alone would endanger you with no help and three is a support but easy to pick off when together. Stuck. Perception?.

He's on the other side of the pool, waddling his legs and leaning against the granite wall. The pool is blue, brightly so. Sun shines throughout the whole area. Hanbin is at the opposite end; you are swimming towards Jiwon. You took off your t-shirt earlier. You are naked right now. What can Jiwon do?. He knows that this was perfect.

Jiwon reaches out for you as do you for him. He switches so that it's you against the wall. You already know how this will play out. But every time is a new experience. Of experience but new? Fresh is the optimal word. You kiss him lightly, giggling some and laughing some.

He reached for your sex, easing a finger or two in without warning. His groin stirs at the scenario. You were already wet from having sex with Hanbin, he had eased you up. But like this? You must have been ready for a second round. You would have done so if Jiwon hadn't come back then.

If he was more than a second late, he would have seen Hanbin ramming your pretty ass into the creaking bed, without a care that the bed should be intact because it's the only one you have. For three people. He could have joined in. But now he had you all to himself. He turns you around, telling you to place your hands on the wall.

You do so excitedly, he can see the flush on your cheeks at his suggestion. ''From the back?'', you ask even though you know. He hums, placing a kiss on your neck, pumping himself a few times before he sinks into your warmth. God, it is glorious. He is lost for words. The feeling of relief after a long day spent running and what not. He always had the energy to do this with you.

He rocks you against the edge of the pool, shifting the water in waves. Hanbin doesn't watch for the first half, but he can hear. And his cock grows hard when he hears. Especially what you say about Jiwon's dick and how it is like an intrusion between your legs. Fuck, he thinks. You cry out in pleasure, like you had moments ago, cutting off your speech short.

It is how hard you were holding onto the edge, grasping the granite, moaning out like the mess you were. Jiwon noticed the red print, like a shake darker than it should have been. The mark on your backside, made by Hanbin. He grits his teeth at that instant. He pulls you back by the neck, asking, ''What were you and Hanbin up to when I was gone huh?''.

His tone is punishing and you know where this is going. You are about to love this. He takes your silence as disobedience. He lets go of your neck, letting you fall back to the edges. Jiwon forces you straight when he fists your hair, printing your backside red. Tears rim your eyes. You will find it hard to sit afterwards.

Jiwon is angry. Unsuccessfully, he had pushed it away earlier. By going out, he was risking his life, your relationship. He could have been caught. But he walked in to see the two of you having the time of your life, of course, it angered him. And this is how it was coming out. Frustration.

He hits till you cry out for him to stop. He goes much more slowly then. He caresses your tummy, avoiding your sore spot altogether, asking, ''You okay? Do you want me to stop?''. You sniff, finding him peering at you with those inquisitive eyes, always inquisitive.

You disagree and he continues on, till he rips your release out of you. Before you can slump, Hanbin catches you, sliding in front of you. You lean on his chest. Jiwon kisses you, leaving the pool. You pull him back, ''Where are you going?''. He kisses your hand, meeting your smile, ''I'll be back.''.

You are a little tired, not by much. Hanbin holds you till Jiwon comes back, with a bottle of lube and a condom. ''Huh?'' you murmur, realising that you are not done, at least not yet. Jiwon slips back into the pool, the warm body of water enveloping his figure.

Two different people, two different scenarios. Perhaps not all the resources are available but you have time. Enough to let both of them fill you up before you leave for the open road.

[belliesandburps]

Kink Scenario - Private Relief

In addition to working on a good few fics and projects in between work, I also have a few fun scenes and images in my head that I just needed to share with y’all, featuring this glorious, red-eyed devil of my heart:

One idea that came to mind was a scenario of private relief featuring everyone’s favorite fancy boi of crime.  ;)

William is someone who carries himself with a degree of decorum but has shown his wilder side when the lights go off.  I can picture a scene wherein he maybe ate a LITTLE more than he expected he did, but is so good at maintaining his mask, you’d never guess he was feeling overstuffed.  Liam is a walking poker face after all. 

So, once he’s all alone and has some much needed privacy, William takes off his coat and vest, revealing there’s a distinct curve around his stomach.  And when he slowly unbuttons his dress shirt, William’s stomach pushes outward by nearly a foot, and William can’t help but moan at no longer having any constraint against his stomach.  Then he’d sit on a comfortable arm chair, lean back and firmly rub his bare, bloated belly with one hand.  His stomach would be so tight that there would be next to no give as he digs his fingertips into his taut middle, kneading and firmly massaging into it as he breathes in slowly. 

William would sit there, firmly caressing his immensely tight and overstuffed stomach, huffing as it gurgles noisily.  Until finally, his rubbing stirs something up.  Suddenly, with an even thicker burble, William grips his heavy belly firmly into his hand with his fingers clenched tight around his abdominals.  William tries to hold his free hand over his mouth, but it’s soon blown back as the young lord of crime burps so loudly and so hard that some drool dribbles down his chin in an undignified manner.  It’s a real rumbly one too; the sort of burp that comes from the deepest depths of his stomach, one that had been stuck in his gut for a while, festering and brewing until it finally expelled itself in spectacular fashion.  And it’s so loud that William’s eyes actually widen with an uncharacteristic sense of anxiety that someone might hear him.

But when it finally ends after a good few seconds, Liam gasps heavily, blushing a little as his eyes roll back and he slumps in his chair feeling immense relief.  He’s so relieved, in fact, that he can’t help giving his bloated belly a few satisfied pats, each one sounding like he’s slapping a ripe melon.  William eventually wipes his mouth and stifles another burp, before chuckling and excusing himself half-sincerely, half-sarcastically.

Naturally, when he and Sherlock are alone together, Wiliam is a LITTLE less shy around his boastful, excitable equal in intellect and hunger.  ;)

[frevandrest]

Everything Wrong with Saint-Just's Introductory Scene in La Révolution française (1989)

As promised, here is an analysis of Saint-Just’s first scene from La Révolution française (1989). You can watch the scene (with English subtitles) here. It sadly misses the dramatic entrance part, but everything else is there. SPOILER: This analysis will not, in fact, cover everything wrong because there’s so much trash you can’t adequately address it in only 1000 words. 

In the scene, we see a young man with that hair rushing down the steps of the Convention (in what will be his signature dramatic! style). He pushes people way without even looking at them. There is someone at the rostrum, and many people wait to address the Convention. Saint-Just doesn’t give a fuck. “I demand to speak.” Some deputies murmur a weak protest, but they are shit out of luck because it’s time to introduce a new character, and we need to know what a jerk he is. So of course he’s granted the word. 

At first, nobody pays attention, but “just like you, I would die for this Republic”, seems to work. He delivers the speech (which contains maybe two lines from the actual one), and by the end, Marat claps, the Convention claps, Danton and Girondins are suspicious; Robespierre is in love. Camille, oh Camille, does he know he’s just been replaced? Saint-Just pouts slightly (my interpretation) but doesn’t show much emotion. Next scene: Louis receives news that he’s being put on trial. Good job, new boy. 

As first scenes go, this is a good introduction to Saint-Just as depicted in the film. But it’s also very wrong for SJ as a historical personality (what we know of him). Which sucks, because it’s not like it’s impossible to make an unsympathetic yet historically accurate SJ, if one wants to go that route. See, Saint-Just in La Révolution française is a prop; he’s not a character with his own complexities, goals or motivations. He is just there to be pretty and evil, and to take Robespierre away from Camille.

So, why is this introduction wrong? 

Let us remember that this was Saint-Just’s very first speech at the Convention. He got elected days after his 25th birthday; he was the youngest out there. Also, even with Robespierre’s support (that some claim he already enjoyed), he was an unknown; a peasant provincial from Picardie barely out of his adolescence. He wanted to prove himself and demonstrate that he was a worthy representative. Being rude and pushing people away is not really a good way to achieve that. 

Here’s the thing about Saint-Just: despite all stereotypes of the contrary, he respected authority. However, he only respected authority that he felt deserved to be respected. In 1792, “monarchy” was not it. But National Convention? Revolutionary government? Of course he respected it. He fought so much to get there, and he respected the place he was given. 

Throwing his weight around, pushing people away, demanding to speak when someone else is at the rostrum, disobeying order... It was really not Saint-Just. He hated commotion and fights that happened so often at the Jacobin club. Even on 9 Thermidor, when Tallien interrupted him and shit hit the fan, he continued to attempt to deliver the speech. They pushed him, and he kept trying to speak, without, I don’t know, punching someone in the face (La Révolution française Saint-Just totally would, which is, admittedly, one of the many, many many reasons why it sucks that they shortened and condensed Thermidor). 

The film uses “blame Saint-Just for Robespierre’s turn to darkness” approach. SJ is there to encourage Robespierre into cruelty and cold violence, and, if Robespierre starts to doubt even for a moment, to reassure him that yes, this is how things should be done, you are right Max, let’s kill them all, but particularly Camille; I can’t stand that guy for having you first  ridiculing my poetry (wait... SJ’s poetry wasn’t in the film. Why does he hate Camille, again?) Who knows. The only explanation the film provides is that Camille is Good and Saint-Just is Evil, so of course he’d want to get rid of him. 

Now, let us see about the speech itself.

The Speech

The speech Saint-Just delivers in the film contains maybe a few lines from the actual speech (notably: “this man should reign, or die”). I don’t have a problem with them not replicating the speech word for word because it followed on what other deputies talked about (which we didn’t hear)*, and because nobody has time for Antoine’s ramblings about antiquity. (And it would take around 10 minutes to act, which would probably provide us with more glorious shots of Robespierre falling in love being impressed, but it would take too much of the running time. I get that.)

So, in theory, I am fine with shortening the speech and paraphrasing, as long as the meaning and content is there. Which... it did on a surface level while also missing the point substantially.  

*Not showing SJ addressing what others said before him was understandable (condensing runtime), but it’s another thing that made it seem like he didn’t listen nor paid attention what others were doing. Also, it’s a missed opportunity to characterize him as a jerk full of himself, since his real speech basically opened with: “all that the previous guy said is bullshit, and here’s why”. 

Speech in the film: I would die for the Republic and I would fight the enemies of the Republic. We all know the name of the enemy, and I, like none here, am ready to fight against this enemy. Louis is a symbol of traitors among us. We should not hesitate; the king is an usurper. 

In short, speech in the film is, kind of, less about Louis and more about what SJ will be important later: his own sense of revolutionary righteousness and for weeding out “traitors” from the Convention. 

Another issue with the speech is that it wasn’t just about the speech - it was part of Saint-Just’s introductory scene, so we had to learn about his character through the speech. In the film, SJ is rude, cruel and cares only about... well, we are not sure, because there are no motivations whatsoever, but he is there to push Max when something bad needs to be done. I feel that his rudeness during the introductory scene and the way the speech was delivered fulfil this purpose nicely. However, I am not sure that we actually understand what Saint-Just’s speech was about, except vague “we must kill the king” vibe. 

The Aftermath

The scene following Saint-Just’s speech is that of Louis, a doting father, reading a book to his son. Men come and rudely tell him to send the child away. He is to be put on trial. The implication? Saint-Just’s speech won the crowd over and they decided to kill Louis, or at least put him on trial. 

In reality, while Saint-Just’s speech was highly noticed (his real-life dramatic entrance into Convention), the deputies did NOT listen to him. The whole point of the speech was that Louis should not be put on trial - trials are for the citizens, which he is not. Louis’ crime is not treason - the monarchy is a crime in itself. Saint-Just argued against the trial. Yes, his speech was highly influential but presenting it in this way puts way too much weight on this newcomer’s words and implies he was the key factor behind the trial.  

Other Observations

- There is a long debate among historians whether Robespierre was present for Saint-Just’s first speech on 13 November 1792. (I think the conclusion is “probably not”.) But I don’t mind this change, if nothing else, for those glorious shots of Robespierre’s heart eyes and Camille’s “wtf did this guy come from and why is Max looking at him like that?”

- Marat. It is true that he generally praised Saint-Just as an orator, but he disagreed with this speech (Marat was for trial). 

- The reason why this post is dedicated to SJ’s first scene is because I was asked/challenged to write about it. It doesn’t mean that his other scenes were any better (I’d say they were worse). In fact, the entire SJ’s character was a Thermidorized mess. 

- That being said, I don’t hate this SJ. I cannot; LRF was my introduction to the whole Frev thing and will always have a special place. Christopher Thompson was ok, particularly in some aspects of SJ. However, the whole thing was a mess and it should be criticized. 

- Hair. I promised to dedicate one full paragraph to SJ’s hair, but I... can’t. I simply cannot. I am sorry. I tried, but the words failed me. 

- This was more fun that it should have been and there are so many things I didn’t get to say (the entire performance and what this scene means for SJ as a character in the film, a more detailed analysis of the speech and comparison with the real one, etc.) But it did show that I can still vomit write 1000+ words about anything that I have any interest in, which is... good to know, I guess? (Let’s just say that I won’t be winning any SJ contest prizes for laconicism). 

[teamfreewill2pointo]

Transcript of End of the Road Special

Transcript of End of the Road Special. 

Please let me know if I made any errors in transcription. Twitter version Family Don’t End with Blood Transcription Winchester Mythology Transcription

Dabb: Ultimately, we came up with something that we're all very proud of Singer: You never know what the audience is going to like so we really tried to say "what would make us happy? Would we be satisfied with where we've taken them?"

The Carry On song was a guideline.

Singer: The myth of what these brothers were throughout 15 years... We didn't shy away from fatalism, but we wanted to be able to have it be kinda uplifting as well.

Dabb: If you're going to do something that feels like a complete arc, you have to kinda go back to the beginning of it (clips of them hunting vamps from s1 & 15.20) When it comes to Sam & Dean- it's all about getting back to, in some ways, these two guys on the road in this car.

Dabb: They've been doing this job for 15 years now. They've fought everyone from demons to vampires to God himself, but at the end of the day, they're still working guys, out there on the road & taking cases. We've tried to never lose sight of that.

Dabb: There are times when we've been wrapped up in our own mythology a little bit. We've always tried to get back to the basics, which are: these two guys, saving people, hunting things. 

Eugenie: I think we sort of knew generally what the ending would involve.

Eugenie: We might not have known the mechanics, but we sort of knew there would be a victorious, glorious sacrificial ending bc I think sacrifice is a big theme in the series.

For every great thing you do, a cost must be paid.

Singer: Andrew & I talked about it. We were in agreement pretty quickly... talked to the rest of the writing staff & let them know what we wanted to do and we were open to suggestions. And then we pretty much pitched it to Jared and Jensen.

Jensen talks about flying to LA. Jensen: So before we ever even started 15, we knew how the last portion of the story was going to go. We didn't know how we were going to get there, but we kinda knew the final- the finish line- we knew what... what that was going to look like.

Jared: I don't think there's ever been a season of SPN in 15 years where the way the writers thought the show would play out for that season- ended up being the way it played out And so we were aware of that. They told us here's what we're thinking, here's what happens to Castiel

Jared: In the finale, Dean dies & Sam lives on. And then we think they're going to meet up in heaven. 

I remember Jensen... just because I know him so well- he seemed to bristle a little bit.

Jensen: It was hard to hear then & it was hard to read now. Not because I didn't like it, not because I wished it had gone differently... I'm not adverse to it. I think it's a great ending. I'm proud to film it.

Singer: And we just aimed for that, you know, throughout the season. We knew where we were going.

Jensen: Reading it & knowing that... there's just a weight that is so much larger reading these scripts than I've ever experienced before. 

There's an emotional weight that these scripts are going to carry & these episodes are going to have that I don't think we've ever seen before.

Brad: [J2] were so young when all of this started. They brought to it such conviction & such commitment to the effort. 

That's one of the things that kept the show going for so many years... a show that was designed for very young guys, footloose & fancy free, & on the road…

Brad: To see these guys grow up b4 your eyes into- men, not boys any longer- was amazing. 

BABY Jared: Though the story does involve Sam & Dean chasing supernatural things, it really is a story about two brothers that love each other & ultimately will do anything for each other.

Jensen: There's really one person that gets it on the level that I get it, and that's Jared. Jared: I've never spent as much time with another human being as I have with Jensen Ackles. He will be my friend and brother forever. And I know that.

BABY Jensen: There's a lot of dynamics between the two brothers, there's a lot of history between them, there's a lot of banter between them... it's good stuff S15 Jensen: We had a partner in crime & we leaned on each other for, you know, for times when it was tough.

Jensen: But we also won together. We got to share the experience of success & the experience of getting picked up for another season. Watching these two characters go through what they're going through, when we're working 14 hours & it's 2-3 o’clock on a Sat morning and we're just now finishing filming out in the rain and mud and we gotta race to the airport to get on a plane because we've got a photoshoot in LA & we've gotta do on camera interviews and we gotta promote the show that we love so much that we were just in the mud & the rain filming hours before we're exhausted and it's like there's only one person that gets that right now. That gets how I feel and that's this guy standing next to me. That's pretty cool. That's pretty cool to have somebody like that.

Brad: We knew it was going to be impossible to tie up every aspect of all of the cans of worms that we opened up. 

We did want to bring a proper ending to the guys, the guy's relationship.

Brad: Then of course we had this huge corner we painted ourselves into with the most powerful thing in the universe being the big bad of the season. We try and find a proper send off for Jack & for Cas. What to do w/ the boys & is that a together farewell or an individual?

It was just... lots of moving parts. 

Dabb: I give a lot of credit to Bobo who really was the one who started banging the drum early & often to ending the mythology in 19 and end the characters in 20.

Brad: You're battling God & battling God & you have this epic situation going on through the first 3/4 of the show & then what? You send off Dean in act 4? That just felt wrong. Eugenie: We had this obligation, it was really mandatory, that we tie up the mythic narrative and leave the final episode for the emotional resolution. I [was] more on the side of not wanting to best God. To have God change to be more like his creations. So there were philosophical arguments, but we always knew God's resolution was going to be a big ticket item.

Jensen: We'd started day 1 of the 2nd to last episode, 19. We were 1 day down on that episode & we were just about to start our 2nd day & we got the call that morning that we were not going to be coming in that day.

Jensen: So we figured ok, we'll figure out protocol, figure out what we need to do, & we'll just regroup, come back on Monday. As that day progressed, it was like- this looks like more of an apocalypse that is ascending upon us than just a bad cold.

They pulled the plug & they said everybody go home. 

Singer: Fortunately, we got assurance from both the studio & the network that one way or another we were gonna finish the series. That was comforting to us, but we didn't know when we were going to go back.

Eugenie: We didn't know what we were going back to... if this was the last time we would ever see the set. There was no plan. It was just get out of dodge. Dabb: When it first happened, we thought it would be a couple of weeks, maybe a month.

I had conversations w/WB where they expected everyone to be back shooting in June & then things got worse & pushed & pushed.

Eugenie: Slowly as we settled into that 4 or 5 month period, discussions were going on w/the studio, & the networks, & the actors. We knew there would be restrictions on what we were allowed to shoot, but finally, the mechanics were figured out. 

Singer: So they were ready to go pretty quickly, shooting in Van, where covid wasn't quite as virulent as it was [in LA].

Dabb: We were one of the first shows, one of the first WB shows to start back up. So in a way, we were kinda a guinea pig. But, in being that, I think everyone took it really seriously. We had 0 positive tests. Crew members weren't going out on the weekends.

They were like look, if I get sick, it hurts the whole show. That speaks to the family culture up there, where we've had so much of our crew for so long. Where J2 & Singer provide such great leadership.

Singer: When I was in prep for 20, I was basically in the office but couldn't go to the set. It was very odd for me not to be able to go to the set while I was in prep. 

Everybody just hung in there & did what they were supposed to do.

Brad: Then we were faced with the dilemma of having to rewrite a lot of the stuff bc of the pandemic bc of the limitations that we knew were going to come on the production.

Jensen: We were gearing up for, not only the end of that season, but the end of the series. There was a lot of big, big things written-packed- into those last two scripts.

Jared: At first, it was supposed to be a lot of our old cast from prior seasons in a Roadhouse with Kansas.

Everybody had already agreed. Kansas was going to be in Van. We were going to have dad there & mom there. Just probably 20 or 30 different actors & actresses who had been a part of the SPN's canon over the last 15 & a half years.

Jensen: It was scheduled to be the last day that we were going to film, so it was almost like rolling right into a nice wrap party on camera. 

Brad: The idea of flying a boatload of ppl up there to quarantine for 2 weeks so they could shoot for a day was making less & less sense.

Eugenie: How do we make this work? And while you're doing that, you also don't want to sacrifice the heart and soul of the project. 

So we came up with a reduced, much more intimate ending. It has been replaced by something equally magical & rewarding.

Singer: I felt an enormous responsibility in directing the finale of a show that's been on for 15 years. Andrew, when he saw the cut, he said some really nice things to me as to, you know, the way I handled the material.

Jensen: The scenes that were filmed on our last day on the sound stages were filled with the most emotion of the final episode. 

Singer: One of the really hard things was we're on another stage that wasn't the MoL stage & they started wrecking the MoL sets

They'd been working on this set and been apart of this- this family for just as long if not longer than the set's been around. I was like "it's really sad seeing this get taken down" and the other guy said, "I'm trying to hold back tears while I'm swinging this hammer."

Jared: As we start saying goodbye to characters, to locations, like it just seems like every day you would wake up and there would be some reason to cry. 

Misha: This is a show ultimately about love, & empathy, & caring, & I think that Castiel embodies that.

Misha: Half the crew was crying. It was really such a sweet, supporting environment to be in for the demise of a character that, of course, for me is really important. 

But it was so lovely to see that, you know, the folks that I'm- I'm working with were also there for Cas at that moment. 

Alex: To get to work with these caliber people & see your friends every day is really special & is not something that often happens in this business for this long. It's been definitely a topsy turvy last couple weeks here with us and the crew. 

Jared: Friday of the final full week was the big scene in the barn with the vampires where Dean suffers his fate. They did the first two days with the entire stunt team & the young boy actors. 

And then they cut it for Thursday night and they're like, okay, Friday, tomorrow, we’re starting the dialogue. Dean, you're on the post. Sam, you just cut off the last vampire's head.

That was the scene- that was where Supernatural was really encapsulated. 

Jensen: And then the next week we kind of had this- on the road encore get together filmmaking scenario that felt more like we made it & it was more pats on the back as opposed to tearful goodbyes. 

Dabb: In a weird way you can look at the 15 seasons is like Sam & Dean's emotional evolution. You know instead of therapy, they kill vampires, but other than that it's kind of the same & brings them both to a very good place. And a place where they can, as the song says, you know, lay their weary head to rest. 

This felt like the most honest & emotionally fulfilling episode for these characters to us. Jared: I got thinking about how Supernatural started & how the majority of times how I thought it should end. It started with Sam & Dean Winchester. I think it's proper that it ended with Sam & Dean Winchester together again. 

Jensen: When the cameras stop rolling & Bob yelled, “Cut!” and Bob yelled, “That’s a series wrap on Supernatural.” There was- a there was a loud cheer that echoed through that canyon we were filming in. I will- I will happily say that there were hugs that happened and that needed to happen. Those are people that I spent not just years with, but so much time with- it's like brothers in arms and so to put it to bed the way that we did felt really good and then felt good to hug some people, I'll tell you that much. Singer: I thanked everyone, but I wanted to really thank people who had been with us from the beginning and as I looked around, there were so many people who had been there from the beginning.

We really were a family. I always say about this show is one of the reasons that it was a success and is that it was not only about the Winchester family, but it was about the Supernatural family. 

Jared: So now that's all said and done, I guess I can look back at it and just be proud that I helped this show carry on and I'm really proud of the blood, sweat, and tears that I put in, and I feel like- I feel like that sacrifice was also maybe one of the things I learned from Sam, you know? Sam had to sacrifice a lot. So, I'm honored and flattered and grateful that I got to be a part of that journey.

Dabb: You're never going to have another show like this. You're never gonna have another experience like this. For a lot of different reasons, from how long it ran, from the family that the show became, from the amazing fans that we have. [Footage of us] From the emotional investment people can put in over 15 years of their lives. 

Some started watching this when they were in high school, when they were 15, they're 30 now, they might have kids. That's their- that's like half their life. They've been with this show. You're not gonna have that again. Shows just aren’t gonna run this long, especially genre shows, but I don't know that I'm ever gonna do anything else in my career that I'm gonna be more proud of than having been involved in this show. 

Jared: The things that stick out are just how important it is to keep putting one foot in front of the other. And keep on working and wake up every day and treat it like it could be your last and- and if you make it out the other side, you'll be happy and proud of what you did. 

Jensen: The crew had packed up, they had cleared the bridge, and they were all starting to, you know, load their trucks and get moving. And Jared and I just kind of hung back, and we just took a moment. I looked at him and I said, “I’m proud of us, man. I'm proud of what we've done.”

We know that that's the collective we, that is everyone that is involved, that is- you know from the top down. You know, for our portion, for what we contributed to this monster of the show, he and I reflected on that, and still able to see and smell the roses.

[drivingsideways]

Hey talk to me about your top three favourite kdrama women. What makes them special? What's a fic you would like to write about any one of them?

Mystery anon! :D What a lovely ask. 

I’m going to cheat a bit and divide my answer into characters I loved a lot, but do not want to write fic about, because I think the canon gives me what I need; and characters that I loved a lot but NEED TO BE RESCUED ZOMG.  (My fic writing impulses are 50% spite and 50% fix-it )

Caveat being that I’ve still watched only maybe a dozen kdramas, so I’m pretty limited in my knowledge!

Characters that I love a lot, but have very zero fic impulses toward:

Han Yeo-jin from Stranger/Secret Forest: What a delight! What an iconique character! Is there anyone like her? NO. LSY-nim gives us a delightfully complex character, and Bae Doona knocks it out of the park in every single scene, so I’m just happy to be along for the ride. I think what makes Yeo-jin special for me is the intrinsic place of empathy that she operates from.  I think “righteous” is a word that often comes with negative connotations (self-righteous, for eg), but I do think she’s one of the most righteous-in-the-good-way characters I’ve watched in kdrama or any drama. I’m tired of stories that portray goodness as “boring” , as unworthy of narrative breadth or depth, and I love that Han Yeo-jin comes to us like a breath of fresh air in our particular dystopian narratives hellscape. She’s good, but never naive. She’s righteous but never cruel in her moral certainties.  I think that LSY nim, in the second season especially, gave Yeo-jin the kind of arc that character deserved when she’s forced to really dig deep into herself to figure out how she’s going to live in the world in the face of a deeply cutting, deeply personal disillusionment, and I’m really hoping for an S3 to see how that plays out further. 

Goo Hae-ryung from Rookie Historian: Ok, I will admit this may be rose tinted glasses view due to this show being my gateway drug into kdrama, but c’mon! She’s a reader! and a Thinker! And loves her wine! She’s plucky! She’s cute! She’s got a wry sense of humour! She’s got principles! She’s got a solid common sense to her that somehow doesn’t get in the way of her dreaming BIG! Oh dear, doesn’t she sound like the Mary-est of Mary Sues? Good for her.gif,  I say! Anyways, Shin Se-kyung is unutterably charming in this (AS IN EVERY SHOW OMG GIRL) and I just have a huge fondness for free-spirited heroines who get to tramp through the narrative changing the world as they do! 

Lee Ji-an from My Ahjussi: I’ve never had my heart broken more OR restored by any single character. IU is *phenomenal * in this, I think she really stepped up to what the script demanded from her. Ji-an’s weariness, her fear and vulnerability, her prickliness, her anger and her bitterness, and how, despite everything, she fights : GOD. Just. Again, what I love about the writing in this show is that it’s deeply empathetic without being cloyingly sentimental. I think a less, hmm, imaginative writer/PD might have focused on the Lee Ji-an the victim, and while the show definitely tells you in no uncertain terms that she is one,  of both circumstances and a cruel society, I think it refuses to take away her agency over her own life.(Lee Ji-an when we meet her is too busy hanging onto life by tooth and claw to indulge in self-pity, but we also see the toll it takes on her not to be able to say “this is too heavy a burden for me to carry myself and it isn’t my fault”; the show I think approaches Dong-hoon from the opposite side- his emotional isolation is partly a result of his own choices, but he doesn’t see it yet, and so his journey is also about letting people in and sharing the burden, but also recovering his own agency over his life. It’s an interestingly gender-bent arc, which is one of the things I love about this show. )

Ok, can I please add one more?

Hwang Han-joo from Melo is my Nature: She just felt SO real to me. She’s someone who doesn’t have the spectacular brilliance of either Jin-joo or Eun-jung, and struggles with accepting her limitations but not allowing herself to be defeated by them? I love her struggles as a mother, as a working woman in a sexist industry, a woman who’s perhaps having to rethink and reimagine what she wants from romance. I love that she’s a little silly, a lot kind, and an optimist, and just. I just think she’s the bravest of the three, tbh, and I LOVE HER AND I WOULD WATCH A SPIN OFF ABOUT JUST HER (i shouldn’t have faves among the three i know, BUT I DO, IT’S HER, IT’S HER.)

Ok! On to the next section! And I’m going to cheat again because I can’t stop at three. SORRY. NOT SORRY. 

Characters I love and SHOULD write fic for if I weren’t such a tired and lazy bunny:  

Song Sa-hui from Rookie Historian: Oh, girl, girl, GIRL. I love how she fights to snatch her freedom from the jaws of the patriarchy. I love that she unapologetically centers herself while doing that, because she knows that nobody else will.  I love that she’s prickly and calculating. I love that she’s smart and knowledgeable. I am SO HAPPY that she got to carve out a little bit of freedom for herself, even if it also is exile to some degree. She *should * be Emperor Jin’s Prime Minister and steering the ship of state, while also carrying on a tumultous affair with Queen Min Woo-hee, while ALSO commiserating with Emperor Jin about his boyfriend Historian Min Woo-won’s regrettable tendency towards Principles (TM) and masochism-but-not-in-the-fun-way. (This takes up much of his time which is why Song Sa-hui is running the country, of course. It works out well for all concerned, well, except her dad, of course.)

Song Ga-gyeong from Search:WWW: What’s NOT to love about our brilliant, beautiful, emotionally tortured gay icon? Nothing, absolutely nothing. I loved how the show allowed her to be flawed and make bad decisions, and then allowed her to make better decisions and regain control of her life. What I do need to do, of course, is see the CANON LOVE STORY between her and Cha Hyeon through to the end. It must, of course, include at least one baseball game, a lot of tequila and messy beach kisses. 

Oh Ji-hwa from Beyond Evil: Oh boy, this year’s runaway hit cleared the extremely low bar for standard crime/ thriller shows by leaving more than one of its female characters breathing and with all limbs intact, and got called feminist for it BUT it didn’t do justice to any of them in any meaningful way and that never hurt more than in the way they sidelined Kim Shin-rok’s talent by not giving Oh Ji-hwa anything much to do. She’s a tough as nails cop, a loving sister, a devoted but unsentimental friend-and by rights SHOULD HAVE BEEN THE HEROINE OF THIS SHOW. My secret fic fantasy is to rewrite the show entirely by making her , and the two other female characters in non-antagonist roles- Yoo Jae-yi and Im Sun-nyeo- as the central characters, as they investigate a serial killer who targets women.  It’s the only acceptable version of this done-to-death (ha!) genre, I have no idea what the Baeksang jury and tumblr fandom is smoking when they hype the show so much, I want none of it. 

Jung Sun-ah from The Devil Judge: I love her rage, her spite, her passionate defense of women, her style, her sexiness, her rage, her rage, her brilliance, her tenaciousness, her smartness, her clothes, her refusal to hate herself for everything she is and chooses to be, her ambition, her comfort wielding power, her EVERYTHING. Dead, her? NOT IF I HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY ABOUT IT. Here’s what *really * happened at the end of canon- she gets out of the building by planting that lady-like but still deadly gun against Kang Yo-han’s temple and making him lead her through his own “secret escape route” or whatever the fuck it was the show wanted us to believe. From there on out, it’s all sunshine and beaches, and scheming and waiting for the right moment to strike again-though of course, this time around, she also has to reckon with vigilant, tenacious cop Soo-hyun -another character who REALLY didn’t die for manpain reasons and had the good sense to leave her gay best friend to follow his psychopath boyfriend to Switzerland or wherever it is that star crossed lovers in kdrama land meet up on the regs these days- anyways, Soo-hyun and her are in this catch-me-if-you-can epic transnational honest and cute cop-and-beautiful sexy villain chase and yes, they WILL kiss (and more) AND IT WILL BE GLORIOUS. 

*whew *

Thanks for coming to my TEDTalk.

[maxwell-grant]

May I please ask where you set the boundaries when constructing a crossover? (i.e. How far are you willing to bend characterisation of the setting a character's adventures take place in and of the individual characters themselves to make this crossover work? How many settings are you actually prepared to smush together before you feel you're losing more than you gain in this mix? and so forth).

I could be off the mark here, but this question sounds like you yourself got a very big idea planned but you are unsure of how far you can, or want to, push the concept. Two words of advice upfront: 1: Stop overthinking it, and 2: Run your ideas by people whose judgment you know and trust. I run some of my biggest and stupidest ideas by friends of mine and they help me make them less stupid or at least stupider but in a better way.

I mentioned in my post about potential Shadow crossovers that "boundaries" are not the priority to fret over so much as having a good working knowledge of the characters. And part of that is because a crossover, by design, already constitutes the breaking of boundaries. That's by default what a crossover does. You don't wanna test or break boundaries, then you picked the wrong kind of story.

A crossover is still a story like any other. Two characters meeting is not a story, it's a premise. You don't start a story by defining where it can't go, before you've even decided where you want to take it. Some boundaries are important, others aren't. Some boundaries are hard-coded and unbreakable, and others HAVE to be broken for the story to work, and the process of deciding which is which is easier when you have a clearer idea of what are the characters and what is the story you want to tell, and what you can and can't do with either. You gotta understand the properties you're working with, or at least, understand WHY you want to work with them and make this crossover happen in the first place.

For example, you could, very easily, write a crossover between The Shadow and The Spider, just by going through the motions. They are urban vigilantes with fairly similar designs who live in the same time period and fight crime with their supporting casts. I'm sure most writers offered the job wouldn't think twice of putting them together. But as someone who's read their stories quite extensively and who likes and obsesses over both characters, I would not cross over the two, because their stories and characters are fundamentally incompatible with each other in a more "serious" narrative, and you could not merge the two without seriously fraying one or the other.

It's a story that doesn't work, with characters that are not supposed to function together or in each other's narrative real estate, even with a character as malleable as The Shadow. This doesn't mean that it's impossible to write a good Shadow and Spider crossover, but to me, personally, these two are hard-line incompatible. That is, if it's a crossover based specifically on these two, because that changes if said crossover expands to more characters, as I'll get into.

Regarding the question:

How far are you willing to bend characterisation of the setting a character's adventures take place in and of the individual characters themselves to make this crossover work?

By default, any crossover is already going to have to create new settings from scratch based on relevant bits and pieces from the properties in question, so you do get more leeway for bending it.

But regarding characters, it's a question that cannot have a unified answer, because it's even more so dependant on a case-by-case basis. You could argue "only as much as necessary for the story to work", sure, but that's not really a good answer, because a story can do anything it's author wants to, and sometimes the story is not good to begin with, or the characters are just not made for being in the same narrative or even partaking in a crossover to begin with.

No amount of justifications for a story or characterization can excuse an unsatisfying result. Joe Yabuki and Guts are two of my favorite manga protagonists, but there would be no point to even attempting to put them together in the same story, because you'd have to twist either their narratives or their characters past the point of recognizability, which defeats the purpose of making a crossover to begin with.

Like, yeah, we've all heard the argument that Zack Snyder's Superman makes sense in the context of his movies, doing his own thing. Sure. But there's a reason any discussion of that character in the context of Superman in general comes prefaced with "Zack Snyder's" first, and why mainstream audiences who earnestly looked forward to Batman V Superman walked away feeling cheated, because, to borrow RLM terms here, they got "MurderMan vs Captain Hypocrite", and you can't even tell which is which in that description. You gotta give audiences at least a bit of what you promised them.

How many settings are you actually prepared to smush together before you feel you're losing more than you gain in this mix?

This one actually DOES depend on the story, because most stories that aren't just short narratives require multiple settings for it's scenes. Chances are your narrative will already be combining multiple settings, because setting is a word that can refer to "Korea during the Joseon dynasty", "spaceship traveling through lost nebulas" and "the McDonalds parking lot", as if they are the same thing. And in a way, when you look at a narrative's bones, they basically are.

To an extent, I think opening yourself up for a massive crossover of multiple properties of different characters and settings can, indeed, be a better choice than just going off purely by X meets Y. You start off by making it very clear to the audience that the boundaries are thin and you will be breaking them, and you use said framework to instead tell a myriad of stories, big and small. Stories that you couldn't really tell if you stuck to an existing framework or defined strongly the boundaries you can't cross. I'm gonna use Smash Bros as an example:

Smash Bros is arguably the biggest "official" crossover of all time, and it doesn't really have a "story" other than the basic framework that the series was built on, that these were representations of Nintendo icons dueling it out, and the few details that used to define this in the older days (like the characters being trophies and copies, and not the real deal) have been basically pushed aside. The most story you get in Smash nowadays is in the form of what the trailers showThe "point" of Smash was never really to tell a big, dramatic story with these characters. And maybe you really can't tell this kind of story, or a good story, with this many characters to juggle.

But they tried it once.

I'm sure most of you who do remember Brawl, as anything other than the blistering shame of the franchise that it's treated as these days, remember it mainly because of Subspace Emissary, which was this big, dramatic storyline where the end of the world was at stake and all the characters had to pull their weight to fight it. Subspace didn't have dialogue, it didn't have much story other than characters going from scene to scene while fighting, several of the characters either got nothing to do or were written poorly (mostly Wario), and none of this mattered at all, because Subspace, I'd argue, was the one and only time Smash Bros ever really recaptured that childhood feeling of smashing toys together that the franchise was built on.

Because if you remember being a kid smashing toys together, you remember not just doing it because you wanted Max Steel to kick Cobra Commander's butt. No, you did it because you wanted to tell a story where Max Steel got trapped in a rapidly filling water tank along with He-Man's Battle Cat while Cobra Commander kidnapped Max's girlfriend April O'Neil and bombed the city, and Max Steel had to talk Battle Cat into not eating him so they could together save the city and April from evil, and so they reconciled their differences and saved the day. Those things mattered to you. They were the stories you could tell with the resources you had in hand, sagas you did for the sheer fun of it, regardless of whether they were "good", you probably didn't even think of that. Why would you? You had bigger things to do.

And that's what Subspace did. It was big and dramatic and the world was at stake and all these heroes were coming together. Ness sacrificing himself to Wario so Lucas could have a chance to run away. Diddy Kong dragging along seasoned Star Fox pilots to rescue his buddy. Samus and Pikachu forming a bond. Peach stopping a deadly battle just by offering tea. ROB's story arc culminating in actual genocide, hell, ROB having a story arc to begin with. To a lot of people who played Brawl as one of their first games, this would have been their "introduction" to a lot of these characters in any sort of narrative, and to characters like ROB or Ice Climbers, this would have been the only chance they would ever get to be part of a great big dramatic narrative. Hell, Pit sure looked like he was on the same boat at the time, until Smash brought the Kid Icarus franchise back from death, and now Smash is where characters or properties get to stay relevant or at least on life support (Captain Falcon), or make glorious comebacks (King K.Rool). Brawl was what destroyed the idea of there being boundaries as to who could get in Smash or what kind of story could be told within it.

And people don't seem to recall this nowadays, but Brawl was when Smash exploded in fan content, specifically inspired by Subspace. This was the period of the Machinima craze and the fan mods galore and fan remixes and fan art and fan headcanons and fan films, and suddenly it hit people that, just because the games couldn't accomodate the stories they could tell with the premise, didn't mean that they couldn't start telling them on their own. We even got the formerly longest piece of English fiction off of it. The devotion Melee inspired in competitive players, Brawl did for artists and creators who got their start off in Smash fan content.

And because of it, suddenly a lot more people started writing stories with ROB and Ice Climbers and Pit and Captain Falcon and so on than there would have ever been if it wasn't for Brawl and Subspace. Smash gave ROB a story the character likely would have never gotten otherwise. And if you don't grasp what I'm getting at because you still think that fan content is a long way from being "official" or at least respectable, I don't know what you're doing following someone who rants about pulp fiction all day.

The point I want to get across is, boundaries in a crossover are important, yes, they exist for a good reason, but the boundaries should be defined by the story and characters and whatnot, not the other way around. Boundaries in fiction exist to be crossed or tested, they exist to tell you where you can't go so you can try to do so anyway and either fly high or crash.

Sometimes, bending or twisting characters and settings can be both a grave sin, as well as the thing that allows them to survive. Sometimes there are rules that seem unbreakable until someone breaks them without trying. And sometimes, going big and stupid and carefree over-the-top is either the worst, or the best outcome. It's fiction, taking risks and having fun is part of it.

So I'm afraid I thankfully cannot give your question a universal answer.