#no spoilers in the comments or reblogs please

[wanna1be0]

part ii - a dream | part i

synopsis: vi had a nightmare that you are killed by enforcers and wakes up to realize the mistake she made in pushing you away cw: female reader, vi x reader, emotional hurt, gore? mention of death, mention of caitvi's relationship, slow burn, spoilers s2

Enforcers were burning the streets of Zaun, searching for the blue haired maniac. Vi knew you would still try to protect Jinx, even after all she had done. Vi knew that Cait had done this.

As Vi ran through the alley, making her way to your old hideout, she passed body after body, each one more charred than the last. When she finally reached the familiar room, she noticed the score board was no longer filled with her name, but yours. And for a second, she was transported back in time to when you would always complain about being the weak link in the group. She snapped out of it when she heard a raspy voice call her name.

"Vi?" It came from a corner of the room that had seemingly been burned. As she came closer, Vi's eyes widened in shock and she realized what was happening. Your eyes were bloodshot, your hair was effectively gone, and your skin was charred. You were barely recognizable.

"God [y/n], what happened? Who did this to you?" Vi asked as she rushed to you. She holds you up so you're facing her and with a piercing gaze you respond,

"You know who did this Violet. Those enforcers you were so buddy-buddy with. They did this to me. You did this to me."

"No.." She started with tears in her eyes. Holding your face in her hands she couldn't comprehend the sight unfolding in front of her. You were dying in her arms.

"You outgrew me Vi," You say as your body disintegrates into black dust.

Vi wakes in a cold sweat. She couldn't remember how she had made it to her bed and her head was pounding. With a groan she pushed herself off her bed and made her way to the mirror. As she peered into the reflection memories came flooding to the forefront of her mind. Memories from last night, from her dream, and from the past.

"Fuck," she breathes as she brings her hands to her hair, "fuck..."

© wanna1be0 ★ do not copy, translate, repost or share this work as yours on other platforms ! consider leaving a comment, liking, or reblogging <3 also send me a request for what you want to see next please im running out of ideas lol

[cleabellanov]

Now what is the castle from Asgard doing in the Deadpool and Wolverine trailer 🤨

Tell me I’m not seeing things, it looks oddly similar right?

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

im Not Looking at the achievements list or any other spoilers, but it has got me making mental lists instead of what the funniest things to get spoiled could be. like

Bothersome: you "Annoyed Solas" 1000 times!

Stop That: you tried to eat the magic rocks and got possessed by a titan

Veilwhoops: selecting the "maybe he has a point" option as Soals tries to open the veil results in game over when everyone dies in the resulting explosion

Dragonrider: your attempt to kiss a dragon resulted in total party death

Shopaholic: you spent all the Veilguard's gold on outfit upgrades

Illiterate: you refused to read any letters, codex entries, etc you found and only vaguely understand what's going on now

Bingo Night: you interacted most with those Old Men (Emmrich and Solas)

[sheliesshattered]

Sylki fic: When She Sings She Sings Come Home

Loki/Sylvie, 3200 words. Post s02e06 fix-it, angst with a happy ending. Also available on AO3 under the same title and username.

--

When She Sings She Sings Come Home

Sylvie wakes with Loki’s voice in her ears.

It’s been months since she last saw him, striding out to the Loom to save the timelines. Winter has come and gone, here in this little corner of a branch that she’s made her home. Every day that’s passed, she’s half expected to turn around and see him standing there, like that night he appeared in the parking lot next to her truck. But for months, there’s been nothing but the absence of him, growing larger and more crystalline every day.

She wakes with his voice in her ears, singing that ridiculous song from the train on Lamentis.

To Sylvie, everybody! he’d said, grinning at her, not drunk only too full. She would give anything to see him smile like that again. She would give anything to see him again.

And it isn’t that she hasn’t looked. Of course she had. She’d barely gotten through a single shift at McDonald’s after leaving Mobius standing outside his variant’s house before she’d used He Who Remain’s TemPad to try to find Loki.

He wasn’t dead. She knows he isn’t dead. But he also isn’t anywhere. There are an infinite number of branches now, layers of reality twisting around each other into something larger, a shape she can almost see, almost recognize. But Loki isn’t on any of them. No matter where she searches, he remains just outside her grasp.

Sylvie goes to work, she drives her truck home, she listens to music at the record store, she checks in on Mobius, she tries to sleep. But everywhere is marked by Loki’s absence, and every moment is overlaid with the sound of him singing.

She can’t find Loki, but that song is a thread she can pull at. Where did he learn it? The words were almost Asgardian, but not quite. Something similar, a branch of the original. A variant. Because of course it was.

It’s not until she thinks to quietly spy on the New Asgard settlement in Norway, forty years on from her quiet life in Oklahoma, that she hears the language again. Norwegian.

Remember this place, she hears Odin say, in a memory that is not hers, rippling through the interwoven timelines because it is what she needs in this moment. Home.

She turns her back on New Asgard, on the man who is almost but not quite her brother, on the Valkyrie who will come to lead their people like the hero out of a saga that Sylvie had once wished she could become. She turns her back, and walks into this strange, beautiful land. Norway. One tiny place on one tiny planet in one insignificant branch of the ever-growing tree of time, where the syllables are shaped into words that resonate with Loki’s voice from so long ago.

Sylvie wanders into pubs, into taverns, into bars, into concerts. She hums the few notes that never leave her head, and hopes to find someone who knows the song.

Until, miraculously, one day, she does.

“It’s an old drinking song,” the bearded man at the bar tells her, gesturing with his beer. “It’s about taking the long way home, but knowing you’ll get there in the end.”

“Can you teach it to me?” Sylvie asks, unblinking, gaze trained on the stranger’s face.

“For that, I will need a lot more beer.”

So she buys him beers. She coaxes the song out of him. She buys rounds for the whole bar, until they are all singing it. They teach her the words in Norwegian, teach her to shape the vowels as carefully as any incantation, and then teach her the meaning behind the words.

In storm-black mountains, I wander alone

Over the glacier I make my way

In the apple garden stands the maiden fair

and sings, “When will you come home?”

“You, I think,” her drunk bearded acquaintance says to her, “you are the maiden fair.”

“And what if I am?” Sylvie asks, raising her chin, still dead-sober despite the bourbon clutched in her hand.

“Then you must sing for him to come home!”

“From an apple orchard, if you can manage it,” leers his friend next to him.

“Will it work?” she hears herself say.

“Of course it will work! Music is magic. Galdr, they used to call it, in the old religion. The power of your voice to shape reality.” The man is drunk, but his words tug at something in Sylvie’s memory, long buried. “Sing, and he will come home.”

“As simple as that?”

The bearded man laughs uproariously. “When has love ever been simple?” he demands jovially. “When has magic ever been easy? But that does not mean it is not worth trying. There is beauty in the trying. There is love in the longing.” He’s slurring his words, barely managing to stay atop his barstool.

But he’s not wrong.

I know what kind of god I need to be, Loki had said, tears shining in his eyes. For you. For all of us.

But Sylvie is a god, too, she reminds herself, as she tosses back her bourbon and turns her back on the little Norwegian town, with the northern lights rippling over head. She’s not the goddess of chaos anymore, and she hasn’t felt mischievous since she was a child.

But the goddess of galdr, yes, that perhaps is something she could be.

She returns to her little Oklahoma town, cloud cover obliterating the stars, and drives her truck to the record store. There’s only one song she wants to hear, only one voice to sing it, but music has been her comfort since she came to this place, and she cannot simply become the goddess of music-turned-into-magic because she wishes it to be so. Music has been her shield, her cocoon, her comfort these long lonely months. Now she must learn to form it into other shapes, into weapons and tools. Into a lighthouse, shining out into the vast dark of the multiverse.

She taught herself enchantment, while running for her life from one apocalypse to the next. She can teach herself galdr in this quiet little record shop in this quiet little town.

Sylvie slides the headphones into place, and lets the music move through her.

Oh, sweet nothin'

She ain't got nothin' at all

Oh, sweet nothin'

She ain't got nothin' at all

But what if she had something? What if she had the one person who would make all of this worth it?

I know what kind of god I need to be, she tells herself. For you, Loki.

She murmurs the words along with the music, infusing them with intent, with magic.

And for one fraction of an instant, she can see him.

He’s alone, on the throne he never wanted, surrounded by the threads of the multiverse, pulsing green as they grow and twist. There is nothing, nothing else, only Loki alone in that vast emptiness, in that expanse of everything that ever was or ever could be.

His eyes are dull, unfocused, far away. And then— a flicker of recognition, a spark of life—

Sylvie loses the connection.

She’s alone on the sofa in the back of the record shop, with Lou Reed singing in her ears.

He ain’t got nothing at all

She drives home. She tries to sleep. She keeps hearing Loki’s voice, keeps seeing him alone in that emptiness. She murmurs into the darkness— not quite a song, not quite a spell—

But trees dance and waterfalls stop

When she sings, she sings “come home”

There is a shape to the enormity of what Loki has done. There is an order to the way the branches of the multiverse wrap around each other. It is just outside her grasp, but Sylvie feels that if she could just see the shape of it, she might understand.

She might be able to reach him.

In storm-black mountains, I wander alone she whispers to the emptiness of her tiny apartment, in this tiny town, in this little branch of a timeline, one miniscule part of a greater whole, and falls asleep dreaming of trees dancing, of waterfalls stopping, of Loki taking her outside the flow of time to tell her that there was no other way to keep her safe.

Sylvie wakes with her own voice in her ears.

The song is coursing through her, jeg saler min ganger, and she can feel the magic at her fingertips, on the tip of her tongue, pushing at the insides of her ribs, swelling her lungs and begging to be released.

I know what kind of god I need to be.

She gets into her truck and drives. North and east, away from everything she knows, vaguely towards those northern lights dancing over the fjords, too far away to reach on roads such as these.

But once upon a time, when she was very young, there was another road. A rainbow road, the Bifrost, that could take her anywhere just like magic.

Every bit of magic she has now she has taught herself. And this, too, this song swelling in her chest, is magic of her own making.

There is beauty in the trying. There is love in the longing.

She drives past fields of wheat and fields of corn, through days and nights, with the glare of the sun or the pattering of the rain against the windshield. Sylvie drives and drives and drives, and keeps the song tucked away inside her, growing in fury like a hurricane in a bottle, like the storm that had raged outside the night they met.

She drives until the scent of apples wafts through the open windows of the truck, and then she pulls over, knowing this was her destination all along.

Iðunn, a childhood memory whispers, too long ago now to have any meaning at all. The apples of eternity.

Home she thinks, and then hears, from a memory not her own:

Asgard’s not a place, it’s a people.

This could be Asgard. Asgard is where our people stand.

Her brother’s voice. The voice of the man who had once raised her as his daughter. The family she lost and can never regain, no matter what shape the multiverse twists itself into. Words reaching across time, across branching timelines, to reach her here and now, because it is what she needs to hear.

Sylvie climbs out of her truck and walks into the apple orchard and doesn’t look back.

She walks until she can no longer see the road from between the trunks and branches. She walks until there is nothing but the smell of apples, the soil under foot, and the sky over head. She walks until the song finally bursts out of her, all of her desperation and loneliness flooding out of her lungs to shake the very air around her, in the shape of words that are his but also hers, now.

But trees dance and waterfalls stop

When she sings, she sings “come home”

In storm-black mountains, I wander alone

Over the glacier I make my way

In the apple garden stands the maiden fair

and sings, “When will you come home?”

But trees dance and waterfalls stop

When she sings, she sings “come home”

When she sings, she sings “come home”

When she sings, she sings “come home”

When she sings, she sings “come home!”

And then he is there, standing beside her in the sunshine and the scent of the apple orchard. Loki glances around at the trees dancing in the wind, his eyes bright, before his gaze snaps to hers.

“You’re here,” Sylvie croaks, her voice burned through with the force of the magic that poured out of her, the magic that’s brought Loki to her.

“No, not really,” he says, his eyes never still as they trace over her face. “I’m still there too. I’m sort of everywhere, really. It’s hard to explain.”

“Help me to understand,” she says before the words even have the chance to fade away. “You said you knew what kind of god you needed to be. You saved us, you saved everything, and then you disappeared. Make me understand.”

“I can’t, Sylvie,” Loki says gently, and there is a sorrow in his eyes deeper than oceans, more boundless than the vastness of space. “It’s been centuries for me. Lifetimes. I wouldn’t know where to start.”

Enchant me, he had begged her once, standing in the McDonald’s parking lot in his ridiculous TVA uniform. You can see what I saw.

“You don’t have to say anything,” she tells him, raising her hands slowly towards his face, green magic flickering between her fingers. “Just let me see what you saw.”

“Sylvie,” he starts, and there are tears in his eyes again, like there were in that last moment before he turned his back on her to destroy the Loom.

“We’re the same, remember?” she says, and if her voice cracks it is only because of the abuse it’s suffered, only because of the magic that poured out through her vocal chords to shape reality to her desires. “You shouldn’t have to bear this burden alone, Loki,” she tells him, with as much tenderness as she can force into her ruined voice. “Let me understand.”

“It was the only way,” he says, as if in warning, but Sylvie cups his face in her hands before the tears can fall from his eyes.

Centuries. Lifetimes. The same day, over and over again. Reality unspooling, starting with Victor Timely and ending with her, again and again. Their fight in the Citadel at the end of time, relived hundreds of times, always with the same ending. Always the death of He Who Remains, and the unraveling of everything, failure after failure after failure.

And yet in all of them, she does not kiss him. And he cannot bring himself to kill her. Until only one choice remains.

I know what kind of god I need to be. For you.

Sylvie watches in Loki’s memory as the temporal radiation burns away his TVA uniform, as his magic replaces it with something older, something primal, something true. She watches as he grasps the decaying branches of the multiverse and breathes life into them, wills them to live, to be whole and part of a whole.

She watches as the branches twist around each other, each variation of the timeline finding support in its neighbors, building into something greater than the sum of every moment of every timeline that has ever existed.

She sees the shape of what Loki has done, the enormous, infinite tree dancing in the nothingness outside of time. Yggdrasil, the worldstree, green and glowing, alive and growing, all because Loki willed it so. To restore freewill and safeguard it forever. For all of us.

His hands cover hers and Loki gently pries her fingers away from his face. “Enough, Sylvie. Enough. I know what I’ve done.”

There are tears on her face, the apple-scented wind plucking at the wetness as she stands there, staring at Loki. Even without the enchantment, she can see him sitting on his throne, alone but for the infinite tree he tends.

“It was the only way?” she asks in the ruins of her voice. It is only when he folds his hands around hers that she realizes she is shaking, trembling like a leaf in the wind. Not like dancing. Like shattering, collapsing in on herself with the weight of what he’s done.

“No,” Loki admits. “There was one other way. I could have left He Who Remains in charge. I could have let the TVA go back to pruning the timelines. But I would have had to kill you. I would have had to kill you with my own hands, and watch as you died, and then betray everything you ever believed in. I lived every variation of every action I could possibly change, but not that one. Not that.”

“You don’t even know me,” Sylvie blurts out before the words have fully formed in her mind. All of this, to save her? She cannot, she cannot—

Loki’s expressive face twists, stung by her words, hurt in this moment even beyond the deep sorrow that he wears like a cloak. “Of course I know you,” he says, wounded, his gaze searching her face. “Like I’ve never known anyone. Sylvie, I lov—”

She surges up onto her toes and kisses him, there among the apple trees. She kisses him for what he’s done, for what he refused to do. She kisses him for the loneliness they have both known far too much of, she kisses him for coming when she sang for him to come home. She kisses him because there is nothing else she can do, because there was never any other way for her, either.

And Loki kisses her in return, with a desperation borne of years, centuries, lifetimes of facing this alone. He kisses her in the apple garden, as the trees dance and the waterfalls stand still. He is there, kissing her, but also somewhere else, far away and outside time, tending to the tree that he gave his life to save.

“I can’t stay,” he says when they finally part, pressing his forehead to hers, his hands cupping her jaw in an echo of how she had enchanted him moments before. “I want to stay, more than anything, Sylvie, but I can’t, I can’t.”

“I know,” she assures him, even as she clutches at his robes for fear he will disappear at any moment. “I know you can’t stay here with me,” she says, then takes a deep breath to steady her ragged voice, her thundering heart. “But you don’t have to be alone.”

Loki pulls away abruptly, only far enough to see her face, confusion pinching his features.

“We’re gods, you said,” Sylvie explains, tripping over her words, her voice trembling with the weight of what she has already done, the weight of what she plans to do. “We have a responsibility. That’s what you told me, in that ridiculous room full of pie. We can’t just give everyone freewill and then walk away.” She offers him a small smile, the best she can summon at the current moment. “You have to sustain Yggdrasil. But you don’t have to do it alone.”

“I did this for you,” he says, holding on to her as desperately as she is clutching at him. “So you could have a life. That’s what you said you wanted, to live.”

“It’s freewill, Loki,” she says, shaking her head. “You can’t just give it to everyone and then be surprised when I use it to choose to be with you. I know what kind of god I need to be. You taught me that. I won’t let you bear this burden alone. That’s the kind of god I choose to be.”

“I can’t let you sacrifice yourself for me—”

“The only sacrifice would be giving you up.”

He gazes at her for a long moment, his uncertainty slowly transforming, then sings softly, “I stormsvarte fjell, jeg vandrer alene,” and this time Sylvie understands the words. “Over isbreen tar jeg meg frem. I eplehagen står møyen den vene, og synger: ‘når kommer du hjem?’”

The apple orchard dissolves around them, replaced by the rippling greens and blues and purples of Yggdrasil, shimmering in the darkness outside of time.

“Home,” Sylvie says, and kisses him again.

[eternalwanderer-stories]

[ the safe zone without Arcane s2 leaks]

I hate that I have to write this all the time now, but since this shit happened, I'll have to be patient.

Yes, no spoilers (I haven't watched any leaks), only my thoughts on the topic of the second season supported only by personal considerations and nothing more.

Actually, I'm afraid of the release of the second season.

The first season of Arcane came out surprisingly excellent, well thought out to the smallest detail and became literally a diamond of animation both in terms of drawing and plot, especially against the background of other not the most successful projects in the media industry over the past few years.

But at the same time, the show has set such a high bar for quality that I'm afraid the creators themselves won't be able to jump over it. Moreover, I know for sure that there will be no "Shrek effect 2", when the second part came out even better than the first and became literally legendary, because it happened just with the first season of the Arcane. I immediately decided not to build any high expectations, so as not to get upset at the end, because the credibility of the creators is really very high, but now that leaks have appeared and everything has begun to turn so rapidly into an information mess, my worries have returned again. I'm sure I'm not alone in this matter, but I really hope that the season will really turn out well.

[venbetta]

Ruin So Far... // Spoiler Free

Wow, I will admit, SW really did a great job at enhancing the atmosphere and environment, it feels gross and absolutely disgusting and I love it

The linear progression through some of the areas is kinda cool imo, and the puzzles are making me use my brain a lot more. Better than the fetch quests in the main game.

There's always an eerieness in your environment and you never feel safe, even when you think you are and that's absolutely fantastic. I'm on edge. Some of the scares are good if you're not expecting them.

I didn't get that far into Ruin, but what I've seen so far, I'm impressed and it was worth the wait. I unfortunately have a migraine, I would've played more if it wasn't so nauseating (I don't think I'll blame the game for that, my headaches are frequent nowadays).

Anyways, I'm having fun, I can't wait to play more of this throughout the week.

[violet-dragonfly]

no thoughts only sonia

[annymaght]

I know this one is very subjective but I wanna see what yous thought about it.

And it's up to you whether you measure it in violence and gore, or in thematic horror and techniques.

[floofz]

you know. i have no coherent thoughts about this show anymore but. yeah even this song completely screams shiguang

(this is flash by gorilla attack, the song that plays during the fight scene in s2 ep2 in the hospital)

[starryocean]

(haven't finished watching the LP on Ruina I'm following yet but)

There cannot be any such thing as internet in the City. Because if there was, the Head would've figured out LobCorp ages ago because there'd be that one employee tweeting out "omg first day working at #LobCorpHQ 🥰 so proud to be a #Feather of a #Wing 💖" over and over again like they didn't just do that 2 weeks ago.

there'd probably be some social media abno too that's rated ALEPH solely because it'd be making tiktoks & memes of what's happening in the facility and well. maybe it doesn't murder entire departments but it'd sure as hell murder Ayin's dignity by clowning on him all the time.

the reason why it can't just be sent off to some branch is because Angela would make sure it doesn't. sort of like how you always start with One Sin except it's Angela's personal little spite pet just to fuck with Ayin.

[cozones-hellhole]

ONE. TOMORROW. IFS ALMOST TIME. I PROMISE ILL DRAW THE STAR CHILD SOON IM SORRY I FAILED AT ART RECENTLY

If you have ANY requests you want me to draw of Enzo and King PLEASE let me know, I'll be doodling all night.(as long as it's platonic lmao)

(Spoilers for the new sneak peek below the cut)

THE WAY THEY FLOAT IS SO CUTE HOLY SHIT, ALSO KING SEEMS LESS PUT OFF BY THEM??? ITS NOT ONE SIDED FRIENDSHIP ANYMORE I DECIDED

Sorry for screaming I am perfectly mentally sound I promise

The Collection room too?? We know why they're called "The Collector" now huh, also I wanna point out how much I particularly love how "rocks, fire, gravity?" Is said, it's so adorable I love it

Gn Tumblr, I'll be eating Pizza bagels tomorrow.

[cactiaintracist]

okay what if Martha and Rose were also mentioned in the play?

we roughly know how Rose’s mention would go but the Toymaker would just get to Martha and be like …????

“Oh seems like that one got away”

okay just comment or reblog what the toymaker would’ve said because I can’t think of anything actually good (and also im curious)

[idleglowingpixels]

(Disclaimer: this post contains spoilers for the FNAF movie, and isn't being made to invalidate anyone's opinions on the material. You can like/love the movie, and/or dislike/hate the movie! Also this started as a post talking about how people say it's inaccurate to the games but it actually isn't, then eventually turned into my review of it lol.)

What I keep hearing around the internet: "This is nothing like the games, it's supposed to be an R-rated gorefest! We should've seen all five kids get brutally slaughtered and stuffed into the animatronics, not whatever that stupid intro sequence was. The games showed it so why couldn't the movie do the same?" "Why are the animatronics friendly with Abby? That's not how it is in the games, the animatronics kill anyone regardless of age." "It's hardly even scary, the games were much more terrifying than this." "Why is the movie so focused on the story? It's supposed to be about bloody murder and revenge." "This isn't a horror/comedy series, what the hell."

What FNAF games are like: -Mild to barely any gore; the most gruesome of content visually is shown via pixel minigames (Mainly FNAF 2, 3 & 4, & SL) or minor gore like the eyes popping out of the Freddy head in FNAF1's game over screen, as to not be too violent for its rating, E-12 -Animatronics are corrupted by the spirits of dead children (Missing Children's Incident (MCI) newspapers from FNAF 1), exacting vengeance on adults because of their killer, but being friendly toward other children --"Uh, by now I’m sure you’ve noticed the older models, sitting in the back room. Uh, those are from the previous location, we just use them for parts now. The idea at first was to repair them. Uh, they even started retrofitting them with some of the newer technology." (FNAF2 - NIGHT 2) --"Someone may have tampered with their facial recognition systems, we’re not sure. But the characters have been acting very unusual, almost aggressive towards the staff. They interact with the kids just fine, but when they encounter an adult, they just…stare." (FNAF2 - NIGHT 4) --I'm using the calls from FNAF 2 in reference here because it is a prequel to FNAF 1, and as far as I can tell, it was confirmed the withered animatronics from 2 are modified to become the ones in 1 ("But they were just so ugly, you know? And the smell…ugh." (FNAF 2 -- NIGHT 2) "If I were forced to sing those same stupid songs for twenty years and I never got a bath? I’d probably be a bit irritable at night too." (FNAF 1 -- NIGHT 1)) -The games are relatively scary in the aspect of environmental horror; dim lighting, sounds that have no origin and/or are meant to trip you up & make you uneasy, characters suddenly appearing in the doorways/entrances to your office; they are also heavily jumpscare-reliant, you either win or get jumped by one of the animatronics -The storytelling format through the games evolved over time (mainly focusing on Scott era games (FNAF1-UCN)) with more voice actors and whatnot, but the early trilogy solely relied on phone calls which were written to be morbidly awkward and funny despite the circumstances --In later games, the plot develops as Michael Afton (our (debatable) main protagonist across the franchise) goes after the restaurants & the killer, his father William in an attempt to set the children's spirits free

What the FNAF movie is like: -Mild to barely any gore, most we see is through pixel animation (the kids being lured away through the intro sequence) OR minor gore in dark lighting/silhouettes as to not be too violent for its rating, PG-13 -Animatronics are corrupted by the spirits of dead children, exacting vengeance on adults because of their killer (who in this case is manipulating their perception of memories to be their friend and ally), but being friendly toward other children --The only exception to this is when they are corrupted by William Afton's influence, in the case of them attempting to put Abby in a springlock suit (that looks like the Ella dolls from the books but I think is intended to be this universe's Circus Baby because of Abby's anagram name for Baby) -The movie is relatively scary in the aspect of environmental horror; dim lighting, sounds that have no origin and/or are meant to trip you up & make you uneasy, characters suddenly appearing in the doorways/entrances to the office; they are also heavily jumpscare-reliant (Foxy's runs down the hallway, the infamous Balloon Boy jumpscares, any instances of the animatronics throughout the film suddenly moving to kill or attack characters (Bonnie in the closet killing Hank, Freddy's spirit pulling Max in for the kill, Chica sending Karl through the vent after the older brother of Max & at Mike later in the movie), the Fritz/Foxy kid jumpscare during the dream sequence, Abby being suddenly pulled up from the ballpit to then cut back to Mike hearing her scream, I could go on but I think I made the point) -The storytelling in the film, while not spectacular by any means, is synonymous to the writing in the games, where there's this awkwardness and humor to a lot of the story because of just how nonsensical it all is (which YES, admittedly kills the environmental horror atmosphere in parts of the story, even I can admit to that) -While Mike, Abby and Garret aren't related to William in the film, they are clearly parallels to Michael, Circus Baby/Elizabeth and Crying Child in the games --I would like to point out that Vanessa takes on the role of being William's daughter who wants to make him happy, which is more-so what Elizabeth is as a character, except she isn't partaking in the bloodshed, but she is pretty much a bystander to it all --I mention Circus Baby in relation to Abby more than Elizabeth because Abby has more of a sarcastic wit and just generally feels closer in personality to Baby's in SL

(Okay now here's my stance on the movie, please read this before reblogging or commenting, it's important for context)

I feel like a lotta people (mainly the ones currently in their late teens & overall 20s-plus) forget a majority of the fanbase were in the target demographic nearly a decade ago when the games started (which was scary to many including myself back then), and now act like it's obligated to "grow up" to more mature content with its initial user base who are now grown adults. But there's still a LOT of young kids who are into the franchise now (again, the intended target demographic is young teens), and it wouldn't make sense if the scary-to-kids-but-not-really-to-adults jumpscare video game suddenly became some SAW-esque R-rated gruesome slasher film when that is never what the franchise was meant to be, nor did it ACT like that's what it was. If you want that, Wally's Wonderland is right there.

There's so much fan entitlement going on regarding the movie right now, it's deranged. You can dislike or hate the movie all you want, I have criticism for it too. I do feel like the tone shifted back and forth a lot, but not in the way where it would make sense for the storytelling. It could've been a lot better written in general, and the exposition dumps Vanessa has throughout could've easily been replaced with a newspaper about the MCI up on the wall while Mike's first walking through the pizzeria, him reacting to the smell from the rotting corpses in the bots, have one of Phone Guy's original recordings play or have the woman from the training video treat the video format in a similar vein.

The way I see it, I had low expectations going into the film and just expected general stuff from the initial game or two in an adjacent, but not exact, adaptation. I've been doing this low-expectation thing since Detective Pikachu, but always try to be optimistic. And the FNAF movie was pretty much exactly what I figured it would be, based on how its story is described through the Phone Guy calls and the post-Sister Location approach of dry/morbid humor mixed in with actual movement, beyond the sit-&-survive office we got used to in the first handful of titles. I really only expected that the animatronics were gonna be friendly with Abby based on FNAF 2's calls, and it was a solid prediction.

Was it a scary movie? No, not really. The jumps got me plenty, especially Max's death cause holy shit I wasn't expecting someone to get chomped in half (and also Balloon Boy, fuck you you little bastard), but the story wasn't scary. It was honestly a tragedy of events going on across all the characters, just really sad but more of a horror-mystery I suppose.

And again, you are allowed to have an opinion and not be satisfied with what was provided in the film. I think there's a lot of room for improvement, and I think it was LS Mark who pointed out in his video that this was Scott and his cowriters' first screenplay, so I agree that they should've had a couple other writers who mainly write films to help form it into a better story for a movie. But it was a serviceable adaptation, and was accurate to the level of extremes being depicted in the games (and no, not all of it works for film, but that's okay to be satisfied or dissatisfied with). And it is fucking exhausting seeing people act like FNAF was always some super horrifying mature adult thing when that's just what the fanmade horror content like FNAF VHS is (Don't support FNAF VHS tho, its creator's a creep who sent NSFW shit to an underage kid knowingly for several years :/ Nasty af).

I think its positives & negatives are generally the same as the Pokemon, Sonic & Mario adaptations as of recent, where you're having to form an entire 90-120 minute movie based off of a few voice lines or body language of the non-speaking characters, and a generally simple plotline. So it typically leads to serviceable movies, but nothing groundbreaking or a masterpiece by ANY means of the term (basically like 50-70% out of 100%, average but not above that from a writing standpoint; I personally have it at 8/10 because it definitely satisfied what I thought it was gonna be, though it's based on personal enjoyment and not its writing/storytelling).

I haven't read the FNAF books and honestly have no interest in doing so, so they don't really matter to me, but I know for a fact this is mostly based on FNAF1 (Ik William going by an alias was a Silver Eyes thing but again, haven't read it so that's the only similarity to the books that I know of). And for what it is, it did its job.

Recent video game film adaptations are very good at making fans happy with references, the similar storylines, and mostly game-accurate depictions of its characters. I think the biggest problem with them is that they stick so close to the games' stories, which are simplified for the sake of the gameplay loop, that the writers for these films are almost afraid to take risks and change a few things up in the way it's told in order to properly adapt & expand the story into a film format. Personally I think Sonic did it best so far based on its source material (though not by a lot), but I liked this movie about the same as Mario's.

It hit all the beats I figured it would hit based on the trailers, and I do feel bad for the people who didn't enjoy it the same way I did, even if their expectations were low or similar to my own. But Scott said in a recent post that he's been listening to people's criticism for the movie, and he generally takes good-faith criticism to heart for better products in future content as far as I've seen it over the years. So hopefully for the near-inevitable sequel, we'll get to see the wrinkles in the first movie's adaptation ironed out in the next film.

[purrassicjet]

Just finished 6x02 and it was an amazingly perfect episode, but left me with one question that will likely be answered in the next few episodes... Did he tell anybody he got out??? I know James Wilson personally and he would have never let House take the bus back to Princeton. No way. He would have fought tooth and nail to be there for his friend. He would have skipped work if he wasn't given the time off. Heck, Cuddy would have given him the day off. Why did he have to leave alone???

[international-repeater-station]

one thing i think about is how sunny mustve dealt with his feelings of guilt. he was around 12 when mari died, meaning he was just a kid, and i think, especially at first, he'd have some very, very, very conflicting emotions and thoughts, one of them being the desire to "put the blame" on basil. "he's guilty too." it's irrational, of course, and i think he would understand that, and hate himself for these thoughts even more. sunny's mind would just come up with "excuses" like that to make the crushing feeling of guilt a bit more bearable, "it's all basil's fault we dealt with mari the way we did"

and i found the phrase/lyric "i don't wanna be friends" to be something that kind of captures that childish tone these thoughts of his could have sometimes, i think. not 'childish' as in 'immature', 'childish' as in he was just a goddamn kid when he had to process all of this and so he mightve expressed his feelings using the most simple words and concepts such as these ! just. ough. my poor son.