#that statue section and the elevator

[stridingseer]

I think the only reason that Krauser is That Character ingrained in my head is because he genuinely has the most fun boss fight and encounters that you get in game. Prior to his fight, you don’t really have a reason to even USE the knife unless it’s to break boxes and knife to end enemies. Not in Krauser’s fight where he straight up absorbs your ammo like nothing which is already vastly different from the other bosses you’ve fought so far with the knife being one thing that he’s weak to. 

the original RE4′s story is so thin that you end up remembering the gameplay which is REALLY fucky when you bring in characters and you really only remember fights and those set pieces. You can remember Mike because he mows down enemies FOR you, helps you get through the last section of the island and so forth. You can remember cabin for Luis because cabin is a mess and can get ugly so quickly (he’s nice enough to hand you enough handgun ammo to keep going). The rest of the character building happens in cutscenes and outside of Salazar (of whom Leon has ridiculous exchanges with the most), you honestly don’t end up remembering much within these cutscenes. I know I sure don’t even though I’ve cleared this game THREE times in a row already. It’s all the gameplay. 

Krauser’s fight just happens to be QTE hell but you WILL remember it because guess what? There’s the laser room right after and then you have his formal fight after U3 which happens in stages. Previously you were just gunning down enemies as usual with the regenerators being the exception. It’s genuinely so much fun that you want to have a save at Chapter 5-3 JUST to go through it again. Even if it’s to flex on your friends to show how cool this game is. The entire island is just a joy even IF it’s just to go through that QTE with Krauser and to visit those regenerators (derogatory). 

Everything about the sections in this game are so out there that yeah, these moments where it’s not shooting enemies becomes highlights or it’s the painful sections that haunt you. Any section where you constantly die becomes a sour spot but they’re the parts you remember and any change in pace means something memorable. 

The sheer video-gamey nature of this game means that you remember some things more than others especially when it comes to boss fights. 

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Canada sues Google

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/03/clementsy/#can-tech

For a country obsessed with defining itself as "not America," Canada sure likes to copy US policies, especially the really, really terrible policies �� especially the really, really, really terrible digital policies.

In Canada's defense: these terrible US policies are high priority for the US Trade Representative, who leans on Canadian lawmakers to ensure that any time America decides to collectively jump off the Empire State Building, Canadian politicians throw us all off the CN Tower. And to Canada's enduring shame, the USTR never has to look very hard to find a lickspittle who's happy to sell Canadians out.

Take anti-circumvention. In 1998, Bill Clinton signed the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, a gnarly hairball of copyright law whose Section 1201 bans reverse-engineering for any purpose. Under DMCA 1201, "access controls" for copyrighted works are elevated to sacred status, and it's a felony (punishable by a five-year prison sentence and a $500k fine) to help someone bypass these access controls.

That's pretty esoteric, even today, and in 1998, it was nearly incomprehensible, except to a small group of extremely alarmed experts who ran around trying to explain to lawmakers why they should not vote for this thing. But by the time Tony Clement and James Moore (Conservative ministers in the Harper regime) introduced a law to import America's stupidest tech idea and paste it into Canada's lawbooks in 2012, the evidence against anti-circumvention was plain for anyone to see.

Under America's anti-circumvention law, any company that added an "access control" to its products instantly felonised any modification to that product. For example, it's not illegal to refill an ink cartridge, but it is illegal to bypass the access control that gets the cartridge to recognise that it's full and start working again. It's not illegal for a Canadian software developer to sell a Canadian Iphone owner an app without cutting Apple in for a 30% of the sale, but it is illegal to mod that Iphone so that it can run apps without downloading them from the App Store first. It's not illegal for a Canadian mechanic to fix a Canadian's car, but it is illegal for that mechanic to bypass the access controls that prevent third-party mechanics from decrypting the error codes the car generates.

We told Clement and Moore about this, and they ignored us. Literally: when they consulted on their proposal in 2010, we filed 6,138 comments explaining why this was a bad idea, while only 53 parties wrote in to support it. Moore publicly announced that he was discarding the objections, on the grounds that they had come from "babyish" "radical extremists":

https://www.cbc.ca/news/science/copyright-debate-turns-ugly-1.898216

For more than a decade, we've had Clement and Moore's Made-in-America law tied to our ankles. Even when Canada copies some good ideas from the US (by passing a Right to Repair law), or even some very good ideas of its own (passing an interoperability law), Canadians can't use those new rights without risking prosecution under Clement and Moore's poisoned gift to the nation:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/15/radical-extremists/#sex-pest

"Not America" is a pretty thin basis for a political identity anyway. There's nothing wrong with copying America's good ideas (like Right to Repair). Indeed, when it comes to tech regulation, the US has had some bangers lately, like prosecuting US tech giants for violating competition law. Given that Canada overhauled its competition law this year, the country's well-poised to tackle America's tech giants.

Which is exactly what's happening! Canada's Competition Bureau just filed a lawsuit against Google over its ad-tech monopoly, which isn't merely a big old Privacy Chernobyl, but is also a massively fraudulent enterprise that rips off both advertisers and publishers:

https://www.reuters.com/technology/canadas-antitrust-watchdog-sues-google-alleging-anti-competitive-conduct-2024-11-28/

The ad-tech industry scoops up about 51 cents out of every dollar (in the pre-digital advertising world the net take by ad agencies was more like 15%). Fucking up Google's ad-tech rip off is a much better way to Canada's press paid than the link tax the country instituted in 2023:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/05/save-news-we-must-ban-surveillance-advertising

After all, what tech steals from the news isn't content (helping people find the news and giving them a forum to discuss it is good) – tech steals news's money. Ad-tech is a giant ripoff. So is the app tax – the 30% Canadian newspapers have to kick up to the Google and Apple crime families every time a subscriber renews their subscriptions in an app. Using Canadian law to force tech to stop stealing the press's money is a way better policy than forcing tech to profit-share with the news. For tech to profit-share with the news, it has to be profitable, meaning that a profit-sharing press benefits from tech's most rapacious and extractive conduct, and rather than serving as watchdogs, they're at risk of being cheerleaders.

Smashing tech power is a better policy than forcing tech to share its stolen loot with newspapers. For one thing, it gets government out of the business of deciding what is and isn't a legit news entity. Maybe you're OK with Trudeau making that call (though I'm not), but how will you feel when PM Polievre decides that Great Replacement-pushing, conspiracy-addled far right rags should receive a subsidy?

Taking on Google is a slam-dunk, not least because the US DoJ just got through prosecuting the exact same case, meaning that Canadian competition enforcers can do some good copying of their American counterparts – like, copying the exhibits, confidential memos, and successful arguments the DoJ brought before the court:

https://www.justice.gov/opa/pr/justice-department-sues-google-monopolizing-digital-advertising-technologies

Indeed, this already a winning formula! Because Big Tech commits the same crimes in every jurisdiction, trustbusters are doing a brisk business by copying each others' cases. The UK Digital Markets Unit released a big, deep market study into Apple's app market monopoly, which the EU Commission used as a roadmap to bring a successful case. Then, competition enforcers in Japan and South Korea recycled the exhibits and arguments from the EU's case to bring their own successful prosecutions:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/10/an-injury-to-one/#is-an-injury-to-all

Canada copying the DoJ's ad-tech case is a genius move – it's the kind of south-of-the-border import that Canadians need. Though, of course, it's a long shot that the Trump regime will produce much more worth copying. Instead, Trump has vowed to slap a 25% tariff on Canadian goods as of January 20.

Which is bad news for Canada's export sector, but it definitely means that Canada no longer has to worry about keeping the US Trade Rep happy. Repealing Clement and Moore's Bill C-11 should be Parliament's first order of business. Tariff or no tariff, Canadian tech entrepreneurs could easily export software-based repair diagnostic tools, Iphone jailbreaking tooks, alternative firmware for tractors and medical implants, and alternative app stores for games consoles, phones and tablets. So long as they can accept a US payment, they can sell to US customers. This is a much bigger opportunity than, say, selling cheap medicine to Americans trying to escape Big Pharma's predation.

What's more, there's no reason this couldn't be policy under Polievre and the Tories. After all, they're supposed to be the party of "respect for private property." What could be more respectful of private property than letting the owners of computers, phones, cars, tractors, printers, medical implants, smart speakers and anything else with a microchip decide for themselves how they want to it work? What could be more respectful of copyright than arranging things so that Canadian copyright holders – like a games studio or an app company – can sell their copyrighted works to Canadian buyers, without forcing the data and the payment to make a round trip through Silicon Valley and come back 30% lighter?

Canadian politicians have bound the Canadian public and Canadian industry to onerous and expensive obligations under treaties like the USMCA (AKA NAFTA2), on promise of tariff-free access to American markets. With that access gone, why on Earth would we continue to voluntarily hobble ourselves?

[ghost-proofbaby]

NOW WE'RE STANDING IN THE RING, BREAKING EVERYTHING THAT WE'VE BEEN BUILDING UP SO LONG. I DON'T WANNA DO THIS - BREAK IT UP.

☆ pairings: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

☆ warnings: no use of y/n, strong language, angst, everybody's a hypocrite, minors dni

☆ WC: 3.2K+

thank you to my love @hellfire--cult for the divider!

masterlist

You can’t tell if the ride on the elevator is all too short, or if it drags out entirely. 

The entire ascension, you find the fire again. All the pain and anger that had fueled you to be acting out so cruelly in the lobby. And yet the bell that signals you’ve arrived to your intended floor still dings all too soon. 

It’s hard to get lost. The moment you step off the elevator, you can clearly see only three doors – two of which sit within an indented section of the wall and face one another, clearly the bathrooms. 

Behind the other one, Eddie Munson, no doubt. 

You still cling to that notebook as you take all your steady steps towards the door, turning over all your fury in your head. Turning all the lyrics over in your head. 

All those songs, all those lines – and he’d never picked up the phone and just called. 

You can only assume that it was all written more recently. Before he’d seen you again, even. And if he had still been writing about you, he could have tried calling you. He could have said all that he’d written to you directly, rather than hiding it all within songs that there was no guarantee you’d ever hear. Instead of singing them to crowds of adoring fans rather than to your face. 

You don’t knock on the door – you just open it. 

Music immediately surrounds you as you step in, loud enough that they clearly hadn’t heard you enter. Grainy guitars, deafening drums, billowing bass. And finally, amongst the madness, you can hear Eddie’s voice singing. 

“Do you wanna see how far it goes? Do you wanna test me now, my love?” 

Yes. Yes, you certainly fucking do. 

It’s not Eddie’s live voice coming through the speakers. It’s clearly a recording as he sits beside the producer, hunched over and nodding along, face twisted as he seems to dissect the music in real time.

One flourish of his ringed hand, and the producer is clearly hitting pause. 

“Do you think we can add in that synth I recorded earlier here-”

“Eddie.” 

His hand drops the moment he hears your voice. The chair he’s sitting in nearly tips from the speed in which he spins it around to face you, resembling a statue as he takes in your silhouette in the doorframe. 

You can only imagine the image he’s faced with. 

You, all your vexation and all your torment painted so clearly across your features. Your knuckles, looking physically strained from how tightly the metal spring of the notebook digs into your palm. Your chest, heaving with every breath, as if even being within his vicinity right now was torturous. 

And it was. God, it was. 

Salt in your wounds. Dagger in your stomach. Poorly bandaged contusions you’d never taken the time to balm and soothe. 

“Sugar,” he breathes out, earning him a strange look from the producer, “What are you-”

“Can we talk?” 

Your voice is quivering, strained from trying to keep a level head until the two of you are alone. 

“Right now?”

“Right now,” you almost add on the given alone, but Eddie is one step ahead of you. As he stands, he also waves his hands a bit, clearly dismissing the producer. 

“You want me to leave?” the man asks, standing slowly, looking curiously between the two of you, “Where do I even go? Matt said we’d be working for another few hours, at least-”

“Go to the fuckin’ lobby or something,” Eddie spits out, having a hard time pulling his eyes away from you, “I don’t-” He pauses, his eyes finally finding sight of that notebook in your hand. Clearly, he hadn’t noticed it before. “-care.”

All the blood drains from his face. He’s so pale, you’re worried that he might pass out any second now. 

He doesn’t look prepared for a fight – if anything, he looks terrified of whatever you may swing at him. 

The producer leaves, not without a few mutterings under his breath about not this again, but you don’t even bother to dig deeper into it. If Eddie frequently gets into fights in this studio, that’s his problem. 

Maybe he shouldn’t write songs about girls he’d hurt, and never pick up the phone.

He seems to be waiting on you, but you’re waiting on the click of the door. All that hurt, all that seething is burning in your chest, waiting for release. There’s no need to have any witnesses to the downfall of both of you. 

“How was your mor-”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence. One click from the door, and you’re storming across the room to slam that notebook into his chest, uncaring of how much it might hurt. 

You hope it hurts. You hope it aches like your palm that had held it, like your chest that feels as though it’s been pried wide open. 

“What the fuck is this?” you spit out, already choking up with tears. 

“What do you-”

“Where the fuck do you get off on writing all those- all those- all those fucking songs about us?” You don’t care that you’ve cut him off – it’ll be the least harmful thing you do during this argument. You’re desperate, rabid and crumbling as you push the notebook harder for emphasis, unable to let go just yet, “All those goddamn songs, lines about wanting me to come home, lines about us. Fucking pages of them! And not one single call. Not one single text.”

The first tear falls, and you’re quick to let go of the notebook so you can swipe it away. You’re not crying in front of him right now. You’ve done enough of that this morning, over old photographs and times you can never get back. 

“I’m sorry, excuse me?” he laughs nervously, looking between you and the notebook he now has ownership of. He flips open the cover, and his face falls when he sees the first page, “You were reading my notebooks?”

“Who even cares at this point?” you hiss out, taking a step back, needing physical distance now. “It was the only way I would ever find out how you really feel, right? It was between that, or having to hear it on the radio, right?” 

His face goes through several revelries before he settles on an emotion, mouth agape as he shakes his head slowly at you, brows furrowed and all his creases exposed, “Are you seriously pissed off right now that the rockstar wrote songs about you? That I wrote about you, which is what I do for a living?” 

“Your job isn’t to write about me!” Thank God for soundproof studios. Your voice is rising, tone cracking with emotion, “I’m not fucking mad that you did that, I’m mad that you never called-”

“I did call!” he yells back at you suddenly. Not out of intimidation, not even out of fury. He has to do it – he has to match your volume just to be heard. “I called hundreds of times. Before the tour ended, when I got back, when I saw you were gone. I did fucking call-”

“I’m mad that you fucking left!”

Silence fills the studio. Eddie has no retorts left as your words weigh down the moment, ricocheting off the walls and puncturing every delicate foundation of whatever closure bullshit you two had begun to falsely build. 

You finally throw your head back in bitter laughter, blinking away the unwelcome tears, “I’m so goddamn angry because you left me.”

“What?” his face falls, almost crumpling in the same manner as it felt your chest was, “You told me to go on those tours. You wanted me to get out there with the band. Not to mention, you left too. You left, seemingly without a goddamn reason. You said it yourself, just now-”

“It’s not about the physical leaving,” you interrupt, bones growing weary, tired from it all. Weighed down with memories and weighed down with emotions that should have been dealt with years ago. “I lost you long before you stepped foot on that tour bus that last time. You…” you pause, breathing erratic, coming out in harsh puffs, trying to build the courage for what needed to be said. 

“I what?” he’s all but begging now, the need to scream over each other evaporating into thin air.

“You stopped saying you loved me.” 

The words are out there now, and you can’t take them back. Two long years of him writing songs, of you washing away a stain that won’t ever fade, of something broken that can’t seem to be fixed. 

You reach out, but not to try and steal back the reason from him. No, that’s not possible. Instead, you take the notebook back from him and begin to gingerly flip through the pages as the tears fall and the words pour out.

“All those phone calls, all these songs, and you still never say the words I needed to hear,” you’re not just talking in past tense any more. It all seemingly blurs together, the past and the present nothing more than watercolors as they spill across the page and merge together. You can’t tell where the hurt from the beginning lays and where the hurt from now feathers at the edges. It’s all the same, and it all remains a stain, “I never needed elaborate metaphors or pretty words, Eddie. I just needed to know you still fucking loved m-”

You cut off as the door to the studio suddenly swings open. You’re frozen, rooted in spot, hand glued mid-flip as Eddie’s messy handwriting stares up at you from the page you paused on. 

Eddie looks ready to fight. To scream at whoever may have interrupted this crucial moment – a moment for you to finally say what you needed to, a moment for him to finally get his answers. 

He doesn’t, though. Not when a fairly livid, almost frazzled Matt is standing in the doorway, glaring at both of you.

“Ah, good,” he says, stepping fully into the small space that had just been a war-zone for you and Eddie. The door slams shut behind him due to its own gravity, “You’re both here. Makes my job easier.” 

“Matt?” Eddie crinkles his nose, “What the Hell are you doing-”

“What am I doing?” Matt walks until he’s standing in front of the coffee table, and motions to the couch with a flick of his wrist. Eddie is quick to follow the silent instruction, taking a seat, but you’re slower to move. You are not Matt’s dog, refusing to be at anybody else’s beck and call at this moment. And so you continue to hover, “What are you doing?” 

You become the pet he needs you to be when he suddenly tosses a magazine down on the coffee table, and you realize that maybe, just maybe, Matt has good reason to be commanding you. 

The vinyl front cover stares up at you, shining beneath the lowlights of the studio, but the image is clear. 

You and Eddie, walking into his apartment building. And in bold lettering, simple textually strokes in blinding white, is a headline that weighs you down enough to make you take the last few necessary steps around the table to fall into place beside Eddie on the couch. 

EXCLUSIVE GOSSIP ALERT: Rockstar Eddie Munson Spotted Canoodling with Mystery Flame! (pg. 89)

Matt’s eyes dart between you two before he finally sighs, “We need to talk.” 

—

The sweat of your hands is making the corners of the magazine pages curl. 

It’s the detail you choose to focus on rather than all the honking and commotion surrounding the car you’re currently sitting in, or the chilling AC that has blasted your right cheek to the point of numbness. The radio is off, the tinted windows are rolled up to dull the music of the city around you, and Matt hasn’t said a word since you’d buckled yourself into his passenger seat. 

Following Matt’s abrupt interruption of you and Eddie, contained chaos had ensued. A symphony of Eddie immediately coming to your defense, claiming the two of you weren’t even canoodling in the photos on the front cover. Of you, only being able to utter a shocked question of how? 

How did they get those photos? How did they print them so fast? How, how, how?

In the last twelve hours, as your life had been piecing together old rotting bricks only to once more fall apart entirely, some cheap gossip journalists had been formulating a front cover that truly felt like it was ruining your entire life. You didn’t know who all had seen the magazine, you didn’t know if the news had spread far and wide across the internet, and you certainly didn’t know what happened next. 

But then Matt insisted you all return to his office. A guarded ivory tower to discuss exactly what you were questioning – to figure out where you go from here. 

Eddie had been quick to suggest you ride back with him in the car that had brought him to the office; you had been quick to shoot down the offer and ask Matt for a ride instead. 

That’s how you ended up here. A magazine you wanted to burn at the stake in your lap, stuck in traffic on a busy street that more so resembled a parking lot at this point. 

“We need to talk about it.”

The first words Matt has spoken to you since the drive began. Not a question, not a request – you were going to talk about this shit show. No running from it, it seems. 

“I don’t know how they got the photo,” you blandly reply in monotone, staring down at the two photos clearly taken back to back, merged together with some pretty impeccable photoshopping. Doesn’t erase the fact that they’d definitely caught you’re bad angle, “I didn’t even see any paparazzi-”

“I don’t care about that,” Matt waves off as the light you’d been stopped at for several minutes now turns green, and there’s just enough of a gap in bustling pedestrians crossing the street for him to make the right turn he’d been signaling the entire time, “One thing you need to learn right here, right now, is there will always be paparazzi around when you’re in public with Eddie. You won’t always see them, but you should always assume they’re there.” 

The ceasing of that irritating clicking is heaven sent. One less commotion to cloud your reeling mind. 

“What do you care about then?” you mumble, finally side-eyeing the older man beside you. 

“I care about what you are to Eddie.” 

“I can promise you, I am noth-”

“Don’t feed me the same bullshit excuses he has, please,” Matt sighs as the rolling car slows, and he signals once more to turn into the parking lot of one of the many impressive skyscrapers towering over the street, “I’m not an idiot. Eds may seem to think I am half the time, but I’m not,” a confining parking space is where the SUV finally settles, but Matt makes no move to turn the vehicle off as he turns to look at you fully, “Look, just level with me. Because as of right now, the only thing I know is that you went to high school together. I need to know where exactly you stand with Eddie, not just because he’s my client, but because of the conversation we’re about to have.” 

Your heart fully drops, “What kind of conversation are we about to have?” 

“A hard one,” Matt instantly replies, not missing a beat, “A very, very hard one. With so many moving factors, it’s gonna give you a headache. And I want to warn you of it, give you a fair chance, because you seem like a nice girl. You’re not used to this circus like me and Eddie are – you deserve a fighting chance at what’s about to be asked of you.” 

What’s about to be asked of you. 

You had a few guesses, simply based on the grave look on Matt’s face. Simply based off of all the research you used to do back in your room in Hawkins’, when the joke of you managing Corroded Coffin felt more and more like a real possibility. 

“An NDA?” you guess, trying to seem indifferent. You should have seen that coming. 

“More than an NDA, dear.” 

Your head snaps in his direction, brows furrowing, “What could you possibly want from me that’s more than signing a piece of paper that promises I won’t tell anyone what’s happened last night?” you hold up that magazine from your lap, giving it a fluttering shake for emphasis, “Wasn’t that the point of showing us this?” 

He only smiles. Your heart only sinks further. 

“I’m going to ask you one last time; what are you to Eddie, really?”

A muse. A stain. A ghost. Something to haunt every avenue he’ll ever take for the rest of his life. A mistake better left unspoken between the two of you. A blip in his past, impossible to avoid. Something better left dead and buried, but the Universe just won’t seem to let the two of you rest. 

“I’m his ex-girlfriend.” 

How do you define an ex, though? Did you ever really end it? How can something be over if neither party has ever been willing to say the words? 

Matt nods slowly, smiling almost sadly, “I figured as much. Thank you, at least, for being honest.” 

“Can I ask you something, and you answer me honestly?”

The car carrying Eddie is probably nearly here. They had probably gotten swept into traffic while following behind Matt’s car. A few extra minutes added to their journey as they’d tried to navigate the nightmarish streets of New York. 

Come to think of it, you don’t even know if he’ll be using the same front entrance as you and Matt. 

“You won’t always see them, but you should always assume they’re there.”

He could use the back entrance, if there was one, to avoid the paparazzi. 

Technicalities you had never had to consider before. You’d only experienced a fraction of Eddie’s fame firsthand, in the beginning, when it was still reasonable to show him off. To brag about him in public, to pronounce your love from every rooftop. Hiding had never been an option – it hadn’t needed to be an option. 

“I know what your question is,” Matt says carefully, “And we both know I won’t say anything until we’re inside that building with Eddie.” 

“Is he even going to go through the fr-” you start to question, but cut off just as you see a familiar black SUV pull up to the front doors of the building. 

You have your answer, it seems. 

Matt unbuckles his seatbelt, and you take it as your sign to do the same. But just as you begin to reach for your door, Matt’s hand on your forearm stops you. 

“For what it’s worth, I am sorry for what I’m about to ask the two of you. Especially now that I know the truth.” 

Your heart finally arrives to the point of no return, unable to answer as the organ is buried six feet under within the grave that should be meant for yourself when it comes to the history books of Eddie Munson. 

Just what was Matt about to ask of the two of you?

You open the door without responding. 

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @mediocredreams @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin

@ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87

@thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea@kellsck

@cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking

@witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore

@mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog

@vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria@loveryanax@stylexrepp

@princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

@writinginthetwilight @trixyvixx @kittydeadbones @munson-addict @bluejeangenies

@cryingglightningg @joannamuns9n @missmarch-99 @rhirojo@findmeincorneliastreet

[artifacts-and-arthropods]

The Petelia Tablet, Greek, c.300-200 BCE: this totenpass (a "passport for the dead") was meant to be buried in a human grave; it bears an inscription that tells the dead person exactly where to go and what to say after crossing into the Greek Underworld

Made from a sheet of gold foil, this tablet measures just 4.5cm (a little over 1.5 inches) in length, and although it was found inside a pendant case in Petelia, Italy, it's believed to have originated in ancient Greece. It was meant to aid the dead in their journey through the Underworld -- providing them with specific instructions, conferring special privileges, and granting them access to the most coveted realms within the afterlife.

The Petelia tablet, displayed with the pendant case in which it was discovered

The tablet itself dates back to about 300-200 BCE, while the pendant case/chain that accompanies it was likely made about 400 years later, during the Roman era. It's believed that the tablet was originally buried with the dead, and that an unknown individual later removed it from the burial site and stuffed it into the pendant case. Unfortunately, in order to make it fit, they simply rolled it up and then snipped off the tip of the tablet. The final lines of the inscription were destroyed in the process.

The inverse side of the Petelia tablet

These textual amulets/lamellae are often referred to as totenpässe ("passports for the dead"). They were used as roadmaps to help guide the dead through the Underworld, but they also served as indicators of the elite/divine status of certain individuals, ultimately providing them with the means to obtain an elevated position in the afterlife.

The Petelia tablet is incised with an inscription in ancient Greek, and the translated inscription reads:

You will find a spring on your left in Hades’ halls, and by it the cypress with its luminous sheen.

Do not go near this spring or drink its water. You will find another, cold water flowing from Memory’s lake; its guardians stand before it.

Say: "I am a child of Earth and starry Heaven, but descended from Heaven; you yourselves know this. I am parched with thirst and dying: quickly, give me the cool water flowing from Memory’s lake."

And they will give you water from the sacred spring, and then you will join the heroes at their rites.

This is [the ... of memory]: [on the point of death] ... write this ... the darkness folding [you] within it.

The final section was damaged when the tablet was shoved into the pendant case; sadly, that part of the inscription does not appear on any of the other totenpässe that are known to exist, so the meaning of those lines remains a mystery (no pun intended).

Lamellae that are inscribed with this motif are very rare. They're known as "Orphic lamellae" or simply "Orphic tablets." As the name suggests, these inscriptions are traditionally attributed to an Orphic-Bacchic mystery cult.

The inscriptions vary, but they generally contain similar references to a cypress tree, one spring that must be avoided, another spring known as the "Lake of Memory," the sensation of thirst, and a conversation with a guardian (or another entity within the Underworld, such as the goddess Persephone) in which the dead must present themselves as initiates or divine individuals in order to be granted permission to drink from the Lake of Memory. They are thereby able to obtain privileges that are reserved only for the elite.

Though the specifics of this reward are often vague, it may have been viewed as a way to gain access to the Elysian Fields (the ancient Greek version of paradise) or as a way to participate in sacred rites; some totenpässe suggest that it may have allowed the soul to break free from the eternal cycle of reincarnation. Regardless, the overall objective was likely the same: to obtain a special status and acquire privileges that were inaccessible to most of the souls in the Underworld.

Sources & More Info:

Altlas Obscura: The Ancient Greeks Created Golden Passports to Paradise

The Museum of Cycladic Art: The Bacchic-Orphic Underworld

Bryn Mawr College: Festivals in the Afterlife: a new reading of the Petelia tablet

The Getty Museum: Underworld (imagining the afterlife)

The British Museum: Petelia tablet (with pendant case; chain)

[thewiglesswonder]

You know the TFA Decepticons aren’t an oppressed minority right? DJW even said their Rise Up rhetoric was a jab at how conservatives preach about Protecting Freedoms, and in the Allspark Almanac it’s explained they wanted to colonize other planets and the Autobots objected to that. The Decepticons were exiled for being military fascists.

I'd really, really love to know where I've ever said that on this blog, but since you seem very convinced that I did, let's look at the lore again. I don't feel like trawling the internet for this specific tweet/whatever form this DJW evidence has, so if you have that, I'd love to see it.

This timeline from the Allspark Almanac II pretty clearly states that the entire crux of Cybertronian society as a whole has rested on colonization, very early on in their species' history. Their "Golden Age" 8 billion stellar cycles ago is characterized by expansion that led to the colonization (!!!) of their solar system, further colonization only prevented by isolationism.

The earliest indications of the factional split that mark their history exist within the ruling class Guardians and the Malignus, defined as a "military caste". This implies that Golden Age Cybertron existed as a caste system. Which I would take a guess as not being particularly great.

And when we get to the first (again, quoted from the text here,) "military coup", it's executed by the political ancestors of the Autobots. Not a peep about the Malignus while that was going on.

This faction eventually becomes the Protectobots, and the most notable thing about them is that their leader attempted a Great Purge of "undesirable elements" from their society. I'd be hard pressed to think I'm wrong in thinking that's kinda fucked up. We're not given explicit reasons for this 17 million year war, but wars don't happen without someone to oppose someone else, and we get this in the form of the Destrons.

As for the point about colonization: my point is not that the Decepticon's motivations are not what we see in canon. Not at all. My point is that the Autobots have the same fucking motivation.

The Age of Expansion literally begins when the Autobots take power! It only ends when they butt heads with the Quintessons! Colonization, militarism, and facism, as you put it, are not traits that are unique to Decepticons.

And, according to this timeline and historical reasoning given, there is no mention of either faction's position on further expansion. The formation of the Decepticons is rooted in the divide between labor and military aligned Cybertronians. Both sections are equally responsible for the imperialistic efforts of their Empire/Commonwealth/whatever you want to call it, and make no mistake, this does continue into the present day! From both factions!

Assuming you're referring to my hefty lean towards the Cons in terms of character/exploration interest in the gist of your message, my goal here is not to elevate them to the same Good Guy Status the Autobots have by virtue of being the protagonists. I am fully and completely aware that they are a group of insane zealots that have rallied under a guy who was described by his own VA as an "elegant bully". Rather, I think what you're picking up on is my focus on the fact that the Autobots in Animated have more than their fair share of insidious shit going on.

They retain what is essentially a military dictatorship, with the position of Magnus being only theoretically beholden to the will of the Council and Guilds, as seen when Sentinel was able to fire Fortress Maximus with no approval from the Council and got nothing more than a disapproving sentence from Alpha Trion. We have no word on how their schooling institutions work, but all of it seems heavily centered on their version of the military they've concocted in the absence of warbuilds. And, just in case we forgot about Sentinel's proposed budget...

And that's not even getting into how fucked up Autobot culture is! They're unspeakably xenophobic, throw around propagandistic phrases like they're nothing ("Cogs in the Great Autobot Machine", anyone?), have an incredibly questionable justice system if Wasp is anything to go by, and this only seems to be getting worse at the end of Season 3, if Sentinel's curfews and public service announcements are anything to go by.

I'm not trying to make the Decepticons look better. I'm trying to make the Autobots look worse.

[xinfinityl0ve17]

KOZI (MALICE MIZER) ASTAN - 2005 Vol.21

Translated by my cousin (corrections are always welcome)

Malice Mizer: MALICE (MALEVOLENCE) AND MIZERE (TRAGEDY)

A comprehensive biography of this band, which is second only to X-Japan in importance within J-Rock or Visual Kei, would be too extensive. Here, we will focus on the period starting with Gackt's entry into the band.

Malice Mizer was founded in August 1992 by Mana and Közi (Kouji). After several line-up changes, the band consisted of: Gackt (vocals, piano), Mana (guitar, keyboards), Közi (guitar, violin), Kami (drums), and Yu-ki (bass) starting in August 1995.

Shortly thereafter, the group released their second album, "Voyage (sans retour)," marking a first step toward superstardom. The musicians' popularity steadily increased, attracting the attention of major record labels. Thus in 1997, MM signed with Columbia in Japan. Their first single, "Bel Air kuhaku no toki no naka de," was released followed by TV appearances and radio shows as well as the famous concert at Nihon Budokan.

In 1998, "Merveilles" was released. Malice Mizer was at the peak of their career, embodying everything associated with superstardom. Fan displays overshadowed anything conceivable, and Gackt could undoubtedly be referred to as the most popular Japanese show star at the time. The concerts were elaborate events, with costumes and staging that surpassed everything seen before. However, the fractures within the band were unmistakable. While Gackt seemed to thrive in the J-Pop Olympus the remaining members were striving for artistic quality. Disputes ensued, resulting in Gackt leaving the band in January 1999. As if that weren’t enough, drummer Kami passed away later that year due to an arterial brain hemorrhage. Following Kami's death, on September 21 1999 the band decided to take a hiatus.

Their fourth album, "bara no seidō," was released in August 2000 under an indie label, Midi:NetteM+M which was the newly established label owned by the band. The album "bara no seidō" is an epic work, heavily influenced by German classical music. Choral passages and long instrumental sections elevate this work to classic status. The trio of Mana, Közi, and Yu-ki experimented on this album without a fixed singer or drummer. This is undoubtedly the most impressive and monumental work by MM, although its reception from the audience could have been better. Perhaps under this impression, the band decided to recruit a new singer, Klaha, in August 2000. The sound shifted towards an epic and darker rock sound. With Klaha, MM returned to catchy melodies, though they were far removed from the J-Pop of the Gackt years. In my opinion, this is the best, albeit temporarily concluding, chapter of the group.

A few singles were released afterward. The last tour took place in July 2001, after which the band disbanded. Klaha began his solo career, Közi is currently active as a solo artist and as a member of Eve Of Destiny, while Mana has become a well-known figure in Japan with his own fashion line and Gothic Lolita shops. He continues to be active as a musician in his band MDM. Yu-ki is no longer prominently involved in music.

It’s also essential to look into the successor bands of Malice Mizer. I can't find anything appealing in Gackt and Klaha's solo works. I really enjoy Eve Of Destiny, as well as everything Mana releases to the public. EOD is an industrial goth band; Mana is much heavier but also more classical in orientation. Közi's solo work sounds very relaxed and somewhat French, although he writes in English.

I have met Közi several times and found him to be a somewhat shy and introverted man. However, he is a very nice guy. But that’s just a side note. What fascinates me is the band's fluctuating musical trajectory. By the time Gackt joined, the typical "growing pains" of any group had settled, and a first creative peak was reached with Gackt. The time with Gackt was the commercially most successful period, and the concerts were a dream visual event. The costumes changed multiple times during the show, and the staging would be compared to German theatrical productions.

Part 2

Groups like Rammstein would turn green with envy. Musically i find Gackt quite uninteresting. He knew how to present himself well in the spotlight but that’s about it. Gackt after Malice Mizer is nothing more than slimy, sweet-and-sour J-Pop. A nod to Herr Rohlen. Artistically an MM album like "bara no seido" is much more impressive. Some elements remind me that both Mana and Közi are great admirers of the German composer Bach. This influence is unmistakable. These influences, combined with Közi's and Mana's magnificent guitar playing, elevate "bara no seido" to a masterpiece for this group. The musicality of Malice Mizer is one of the outstanding characteristics of the Japanese band. The range of instruments spans from the standard instruments of a rock band to very European instruments such as clavichord, spinet, violin, or accordion. One might think that nothing catchy could emerge from this, but that is precisely one of the band's strengths.

Each song is assigned a style and a color. Mana represents the color blue, in which his clothing is designed. Mana is an imposing figure who can only be described as beautiful. When I first saw a video by MM, I thought the guitarist looked quite good. Not to mention, the guitarist is a male. In Japanese tradition, it is not so unusual for a man to appear feminine. Mana gives few interviews and hardly speaks in public, yet he is the creative mind behind Malice Mizer. He has perfected the Gothic Lolita style and can be understood as the counterpart to Gackt. Gackt does not wear white makeup and is considered by a large part of the female MM fans to be the quintessential fairy tale prince.

Közi represents the color red. He appears quite androgynous as an MM member. At the same time, he is aloof, reserved, and doll like fragile. Kami represents the color purple and Yu-ki represents yellow and/or orange. Noteworthy about him is his occasionally drawn-on occasionally real beard. Klaha’s color is either black or white. He later takes on Gackt's role but is much more masculine and less boyish than Gackt.

The look of this group. Malice Mizer seems to change costumes like others change underwear. It’s incredible how tastefully and stylishly Malice Mizer dressed and presented themselves. The staging on stage and in the videos is trendsetting and has not been achieved by any group known to me before or since. The transition from a metal band to a VK group and ultimately to a heavily Gothic-influenced act is marked by significant breaks. Yet, one can always recognize Malice Mizer's typical sound. For anyone who is now curious, I strongly recommend checking out the live DVDs or the group’s videos. Personally, I really enjoy the videos and music from the time with Klaha. The videos with Gackt are more colorful, vibrant and playful. I can recommend all DVDs from Malice Mizer.

The End

[lights-at-night]

a chronological analysis of ranefall's relationship

alternately titled, 2373 words of me yapping about ranefall

long post. spoilers for all of tsv s3

on first impression, the relationship between faulkner and rane is that of a prophet and his disciple, a leader and his loyal advisor. rane's introduction is them driving faulkner back to the paraclete's gulch - an act of service, which sets a tone for the rest of their relationship. they say that "it was a true privilege to have seen it with [faulkner]". this establishes that rane and faulkner are not on equal footing, that rane's experience is elevated by faulkner's presence (or perhaps status). 

after this, faulkner persuades rane into telling him about their opinions of the katabasians' council by saying that they are on equal footing. of course, they aren't. but this illusion allows rane to feel like they are permitted to be open with him. faulkner doesn't return this courtesy, not answering rane's question of if legalisation is allowed and instead telling rane something appropriately shocking (a death threat towards him), to perhaps distract. 

 rane continues to act as faulkner's assistant in the next few episodes, bringing him news of the parish. however, chapter 33 marks a gradual change in rane and faulkner's relationship. faulkner's monologue in returning to the paraclete's gulch shows how far he has risen in status within the parish. he isn't just an ambitious fanatic in the eyes of the faith anymore, to them he is a prophet. and he is loved. 

as this is happening, rane takes over more and more of his responsibilities. thirteen sentences of this monologue are dedicated to repeating back what rane has told him. this shows his increase in reliance on rane to tell him about the parish and also likely means that rane is the one who has been finding out all this, giving them a more active role in the parish. at the end of this chapter, rane is the one arranging the ceremony to pray /derogatory for carpenter and they are the one preaching to the worshippers, which likely means that they were in charge of that ceremony and not faulkner. their relationship has become somewhat balanced, though not equal: rane obeys faulkner's orders since he is the high prophet, and faulkner obeys rane's stage directions for his performance. 

this episode is a turning point for rane and faulkner, with rane taking a more active role in leading the parish and faulkner confined to being a extremely prized decoration, an object of worship.

this is what their relationship seems to be at a surface level. but faulkner's monologue in chapter 33 also tells us that he views his status as a prophet as a "performance". he doesn't genuinely believe he is a mouthpiece of the trawlerman. the status that the parish has raised him to is somewhat undeserved. 

whether rane, too, believes that faulkner is in direct communion with the trawlerman is not revealed. they always act like it, but since the only lens we see them through is faulkner's, this is not necessarily an accurate representation of them. it would seem that  rane is loyal to faulkner, for example in their interactions with  roemont. the stage directions in this section state how rane is "placatory", and how in the first scene mentioned their tone is "polite". when asked what they see in faulkner by roemont, they say "i'm not sure i understand", which could be genuine confusion over how roemont doesn't see faulkner's glory, or a way to go forth in the conversation as neutral and not be accused by either side. from this, my guess is that rane has a genuine belief in faulkner, to an extent, but may be doing so only for the sake of politeness, or appearances. 

chapter 38 continues to have their dynamic be in limbo. greve's message to faulkner makes him all the more self aware about his deception. he is reminded unkindly that he is very much alone and no amount of love from his fanatics can change that. 

so faulkner tells rane about his childhood home, making the both of them feel like they are closer. without the pressure of leading the parish, they can pretend they could be friends. given faulkner repeating greve's monologue, i think he talks to rane as a way to remind himself he isn't as alone as she says he is. 

then faulkner tells rane to find him prayermarks to protect from gods. when asked if using the marks of another god is blasphemy to the trawlerman, faulkner replies with "it's not blasphemy if the high prophet does it,". he is still leveraging his title over rane despite his discontent with the role. to him, he says whatever will get him the prayermarks. to rane, it blends faulkner as a person with faulkner the high prophet even more.

at the end of the episode, rane saves faulkner from drowning himself. they ask him if he heard the music. this shows how their faith is at the forefront of rane's mind, not faulkner's wellbeing, and it always has and will be - an attitude they hold throughout the series and which faulkner acknowledges in the drowning scene. faulkner doesn't answer, which is a completely reasonable response in this situation. this is probably the most honest they have been with each other since their meeting, with rane saying what i assume they are thinking and faulkner not lying about his faith in the trawlerman. 

faulkner continues his descent, and rane can see this. they might be making an effort yo keep faulkner alive but the only actions we see them make are to repair faulkner's facade. for example, with sister cull, rane tells her to forget she heard any of that. even though the grand aquifer is run down and, as faulkner says, not grand at all, rane continues to pretend that this is what they've all been waiting for, that their sect of the faith is glorious and winning their civil war, which faulkner tells us. i think this is rane's way of showing care, of trying to lift the burden of performance from faulkner. in chapter 44, they say with honesty that they "saw [faulkner] falter" and that "it is [their] duty to pick him back up," which is what i believe their intentions to be when they carry on faulkner's performance. 

 previously, in e33, they found faulkner near to having a breakdown and faulkner told them it was because direct communion with the trawlerman was taxing. and since they found faulkner in the same place he first heard the trawlerman as a child,, it would be a reasonable assumption for rane to make that faulkner was doing that again. they might not genuinely believe this, but it could be a way for them to make sense of faulkner in a way that aligns with their view of him. so they accept this, try their best to make sure it cannot happen again, because what would be the point of all this if faulkner cannot be what everyone thinks he is? nothing is more important than the faith, and the high prophet is the basis of this entire faith. so they pick up the pieces of faulkner's cracked mask, and tell the devout that everything is fine and good. because of this, rane has completely taken over faulkner's responsibilities at this point. there's a quote from arcane that is applicable here: "when i ask [...] what [he's] up to, your name's the first out of their mouth." rane is practically leading the parish at this point, in all ways save titles. 

a demonstration of how little faulkner's word matters is in chapter 43, where rane pressures faulkner into giving away the withermark and tells their audience to disregard faulkner's words, which the faithful do. this shows faulkner's deterioration not only mentally but also in the eyes of his worshippers. he is not what they believe him to be, and so his words are disregarded easily. as he says himself, the word's won't save [him]. they never could. this scene also works as a reversal of their first meeting, where faulkner pressures rane into telling their true opinions with his status. in contrast here, rane pressures faulkner into telling the truth of the withermark with their status among the faith. this is representative of how their positions are completely swapped, with rane holding significantly more power than faulkner. 

faulkner is aware that they are both performing to a degree. the drowning scene is important because in that scene, faulkner takes advantage of their mutual performance to force rane to drown. faulkner frames his discontent in the role of the high prophet, and hides himself from rane for the final time. he pretends that his rage at their indirect murder of carpenter was because he did not have the opportunity to do so himself: that his anger is out of betrayal from their disobedience and not the remnants of love for his sister. this makes sense to rane, it fits into their view of him - it is stated in the transcripts that "rane understands now." faulkner continues to fit within his persona in this scene - is it not fitting that a prophet name his closest advisor his successor, to give someone so close to him a role of importance? - i believe this is what makes rane realize that something is wrong. faulkner has not put on this role in a while - since his suicide attempt, he puts low to no effort into maintaining how he is regarded by the parish. to pivot from that to this is a drastic change, one that likely has reason put into it. faulkner then pressures rane to join him in the water using the role they made for themself. he calls rane is his "most faithful servant", and tells them that "i wouldn’t want you coming to resent me, sibling rane. not when you’ve worked so hard to get me where i am." he puts rane back into a place beneath him, pretending that rane is not the one in control. the next step in this scene would be, of course, for rane to join faulkner in the water. the transcript states, "rane hesitates. they are most definitely afraid for their life and unwilling to join faulkner in the water...but they don't know how to say it without completely shattering the shared performance of loyalty and trust." this demonstrates that rane is aware that this is a performance and that they are expected to play a role just like faulkner was. since neither of them can let up the performance in front of the other, rane is coerced into going into the water.

faulkner disrobes, symbolic of how he is in a way giving up the act. his high prophet clothes have been representative of his persona since ch33, where he describes the clothes that he wears as the high prophet. rane, previously, had told him that his disciples had sewn him a cassock. he says it is too big for him, and rane says they'll pad out his shoulders. this is a physical representation of how rane reshapes him to serve a purpose for the parish. in this scene, he sheds the physical form of the persona of the high prophet and as he drowns rane, he is once again honest with them. 

this scene also demonstrates well how faulkner views rane as a mirror of himself. rane has parallels to faulkner in season 2, with faulkner comparing him and rane to mason and him. rane is as faulkner once was, an eager disciple who thought they were special, but who now knows better. faulkner also asks rane if they would like to be him multiple times, and when drowning rane says many things that could be applicable as him talking to himself, such as "you’re meant to be born anew, sibling! that’s what this is all about! you’re meant to be DIFFERENT! you’re meant to be BETTER! why aren’t you becoming SOMETHING BETTER?" if we interpret this to be faulkner projecting really hard, in this he expresses frustration towards how becoming high prophet has not somehow shifted him into being a better, greater person. though he calls rane charlie in the final paragraphs of the scene, he could also be talking to himself - "we’re so close, you and I, we’re almost there, we can almost hear the music, and once we hear the music, we’ll understand what it was all about, we’ll finally understand, and all the pain will be worth it, everything will be worth it-" he clings onto the idea that there is something better in his future, and tells rane that as he drowns them. 

this scene is faulkner subjecting rane to what he feels they've done to him. faulkner locking him and rane in the dreaming pools together represents how they are both trapped in their respective roles. faulkner twists his words to force rane into a role that isn't them in a mirror of rane persisting the high prophet facade. by drowning rane, faulkner feels as though he is drowning himself, which gives him some degree of satisfaction, given his suicidal ideation. but all he has achieved is to make himself more alone. 

though faulkner views rane as a perfect mirror, a "better version of [him], perhaps, who falters less and says the right words at the proper time," what rane really is to faulkner is a shadow. faulkner cannot see rane for who they are because he is too caught up in himself, as demonstrated in the drowning scene. we only see rane without faulkner on one occasion, with roemont, and even that is brief. a shadow is an imitation always seen with the one who casts it - as is rane. since rane never gets their own point of view written in the series, what faulkner is to rane is deliberately nebulous. due to faulkner's unreliable narration. rane is viewed through layers of paranoia, self-loathing and projection. we can never truly know what faulkner was to rane, but we can guess. my personal opinion is that rane did care about faulkner, but their idolization of him and prioritisation of the faith made it impossible to form a true bond. 

thanks for reading!

[fandom-alley]

Rekindling at the Spa

18+

Summary: Spencer has an evening at the spa as per his doctors orders, and meets up with a girl he met at Penelope's over a year ago. This time he convinces himself not to leave without getting her phone number, but he ends up getting a little bit more.

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Reader

Category: Fluff, smut (like hardly though)

Warnings: 18+, kissing, making out, semi-public (no ones around) grinding, coming untouched/in pants

Word Count: 3.7k

a/n: inspired by my recent trip to the spa where i realized just how single i am. this is my first time writing something spicier than making out, so it's not a lot and just at the end, go easy on me lol

Also on AO3

The last thing Spencer Reid wanted to do was spend his evening at the hydrotherapy spa. Germs from the water of hot tubs could make you sick if consumed, and so could the vapour that comes off the water. Not to mention the possibility of a rash due to the chemicals used. But it was his doctor's orders. Apparently his own doctoral status was not good enough to sway them to let him come back to work early and skip this step. 

There were many steps he had to complete as part of his recovery process; resting his injured leg, physical therapy, changes to his diet, therapy for his mental health. And the dreaded ‘spa relaxation’.

Now, most doctors probably wouldn’t prescribe a day at the spa as something to do as part of recovery, but Spencer’s doctor knew him well. He knew that throughout the last month, even though Spencer had completed most of his steps, he wasn’t relaxing through any of it. And his doctor was correct. Spencer’s brain had been working double time, reading twice the amount of books he usually did in a day while he was immobile elevating his injured leg. Reading up on new techniques for profiling and offering tips to the BAU when they worked a local case.

His doctor could tell that his inability to relax his brain, therefore relaxing his body, was the last step in holding him back from complete recovery.

So here he was, entering a Nordic hydrotherapy spa, where he was not allowed to bring in any cell phones, tablets, or hold loud conversations with anyone. And while it was acceptable to bring books in to read, Spencer didn’t want to risk dropping one in the water and ruining it. So he was about to be forced to put his self meditation techniques to use. 

After changing into his swim shorts, putting on the complimentary robe and locking away his belongings, Spencer stepped out of the main building into the frigid evening air. He breathed in the scent of salt, chlorine, and eucalyptus from the nearby steam room. Hidden speakers in the plant beds around the property played out relaxing spa style music. Spencer had to admit, despite his reservations regarding germs, he already did feel quite relaxed.

The steam coming off the hot pools seemed to blanket the grounds in silence. It wasn’t that busy, but Spencer spotted a few people relaxing in the pools and walking in-between sections of the spa grounds. 

Upon his check in tonight, the kind lady at the front desk informed him how to use the spa for maximum relaxation and hydrotherapy benefits. She recommended he sit in a hot pool for 10 to 15 minutes, take a plunge in the cold pool for at least 15 seconds or as long as he could handle, and then relax in a sauna, steam room, or relaxation room before continuing the process a few times.

The property was large, with 4 different hot pools, 3 different cold plunge pools, 2 rooms for wood burning saunas, the eucalyptus steam room, and multiple chairs dotting the ground surrounding fireplaces where you could sit and relax. Without putting too much thought to it, Spencer hung up his robe near the closest hot pool and stepped into the burning water. 

The change in temperature stung his cold toes as they started to warm up. The water was only up to his waist as he waded through past a few couples sitting to the sides. He made his way to the back of the pool where it was blissfully empty and took a seat. Since he was so tall sitting on the built in seats along the edge of the pool, the water only went up to mid chest. But the rest of his exposed skin felt refreshed with the cool air blowing over him. A good contrast to the hot water covering the rest of his body.

Spencer leaned his head back and closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to shut his brain off. It worked for a few minutes, before he heard a couple a few feet over whispering sweet nothings to each other. It just made Spencer start thinking about his own lacklustre love life.

With his job in the BAU there wasn't that much opportunity and time for a relationship. Sure, some of his co-workers had figured it out. Like JJ and Will for instance. Spencer had seen how difficult it was for Morgan to hold down a relationship with their crazy work hours as well.

He hadn't really put that much effort into a relationship, though. Part of the reason was that he just didn't have the time. Some of the cases kept them away from home for weeks at a time. Sometimes to the point where he really didn't know how his friends and co-workers were able to keep it up. He was the type of guy who wanted to get to know someone, be around them lots in the early stages, and that was just too hard with work.

Spencer jolted out of his daydream when someone splashed into the seat next to him.

"Is this seat taken?" The voice belonged to a pretty girl, who if he had to guess was maybe just a few years younger than him. She looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't seem to place where he recognized her from. "You're Dr. Spencer Reid, right?" She asked.

"Yes, that's me," he replied with a furrowed brow, wracking his brain on why her big brown eyes looked like they knew him as well.

Thankfully she caught on to his confusion. "I'm y/n. Penelope's friend from book club. We met a year ago at her place when she had a viewing party for the season finale of Love Is Blind. I almost didn't go because I really don't watch reality TV, but I had just moved to the area and I wanted to try and make some friends."

Spencer remembered her now. Back then at the party she had her hair down in unruly curls and it was the colour of fire engine red. Now her hair was tied back to stay out of the water and it was the colour of midnight black. He wasn't one to forget a face, or forget much of anything really. But something about a dramatic change in hair colour and style had the Clark Kent effect on him. Maybe it was because he was in a pretty decent state of relaxation.

"I remember you," he said, nodding his head in recognition. "I also didn't want to go to that party but Penelope is hard to say no to."

Y/n laughed, "Yes she is, isn't she. It's good though. Because of her persistence I was able to make a few friends that night. And on multiple other nights as well. Penelope frequently tries to set me up on dates." She was talking pretty quietly as per spa rules, and it would have been hard to hear if she hadn't sat close and leaned in while she talked. Normally Spencer would have backed away, but something about her presence was soothing. Or maybe that was just the water jets from the pool shooting into his back.

"So what brings you to the spa tonight?" Spencer asked her. He might have met her back then at the party, but they hadn't said many words to each other. He remembered being slightly intimidated by her fiery hair and bubbly personality and after their initial introduction he snuck away with his glass of juice to browse Pen's book collection.

"Actually, it was a birthday gift from Penelope!" Y/n smiled.

"Oh, happy birthday." Spencer smiled back at her. Why was he intimidated back then, he thought to himself. She was so beautiful and so nice, and so far fairly easy to talk to, it seemed.

"Thank you. But it's actually not until next month. Penelope just told me this was the only night she could get a reservation and that when my actual birthday happened she would buy me a cake," y/n laughed. 

Spencer pursed his lips in confusion. When he booked his reservation on his doctor's orders, there looked to have been multiple available times from now until the end of the year. The only day that was sold out was Thanksgiving weekend.

"When did she give you the gift with the reservation in it?" He asked y/n, with a hint of scepticism in his voice.

"About 3 days ago I think it was," she answered. About 3 days ago is when Spencer called up Penelope to rant to her about being forced to go to this spa. Was it possible Pen had given Y/n the gift as an excuse to try and set them up? Back at the party he had gotten the vibe when she introduced them that she wanted them to become friends. But Spencer had never gotten her number or email, and figured it just wasn't meant to be. Although how could it be, when he actively avoided her most of that night.

"What a coincidence that we're both here on the same night," Spencer told her.

"I know, right? I wasn't completely sure that you were you when I saw you sitting over here. But you're a hard one to forget, Dr. Reid," y/n said. Was that a blush he saw forming on her cheeks, or was she just getting too warm from the water.

"You can just call me Spencer. I really don't make anyone use doctor unless we're at work," he chuckled.

"Will do, Spencer. I hope you don't mind that I came over to sit with you. I can leave if you want the relaxation of being alone." She started to slide away from her seat slowly, giving him the opportunity to tell her she didn't need to leave. Which is exactly what he did.

"I don't mind. It's kind of nice to have company. I didn't realize how many people went to the spa with their partners," he told her. 

"Well, perfect. We can experience this spa together then. So how come you didn't come here with your partner?" Y/n asked slyly. Spencer could feel his face heat up with the attention turned to himself.

"No partner. I actually had to come here by doctor's orders. I got shot in the leg last month, and as the last part of recovery my doctor wanted me to relax more and figured what better way to force me to relax than to send me to the spa.”

“Oh my gosh. I’m tempted to ask if you’re okay, but it seems like you are, since you’re sitting here. I had no idea your job could lead to such violence,” Y/n exclaimed. 

“Every day is something different. They usually keep me off the field working from the office or police stations, but even then you never know what could happen,” Spencer explained.

“Wow. Okay, sorry. This is supposed to be relaxing and here I am bringing up work talk. What do you say we take a plunge into the cold?” Y/n asked with a grin.

This was probably the experience at the spa he was least likely to enjoy, but he followed her out of the water and next door to the cold pool. It was completely empty and Spencer was not surprised. Y/n grabbed his hand, sending a shock through his body, as they stood at the top of the stairs to the pool.

“It’s pretty likely that one of us is going to wimp out once our feet hit the water. So if need be, we have to drag the other person in, okay?” She said as she looked up at him. His voice got caught in his throat as he looked down at her and all he could do was nod in agreement. 

With a deep breath in, together they stepped onto the first step. It was so cold Spencer felt like his toes would fall off in a second. However he didn’t even get a second thought to think about stepping back out before y/n fell forward into the water, pulling him with her. He had to grab onto her hips for stability so he didn’t end up falling on top of her in the 3 feet of water. 

“It’s so cold,” Y/n gasped out.

It might have been 15 seconds, it might have been 5 minutes, but Spencer felt lost in time as he held Y/n in his arms in the freezing cold water. He didn’t even feel that cold in the places where Y/n’s skin touched his. Slowly, as if held down by some invisible force, he removed his hands from her hips and grabbed her hand this time to help her out of the water.

Feeling a new burst of energy from the cold shock, Spencer helped Y/n into her robe before putting on his, then wordlessly grabbed her hand and led her to one of the saunas. Inside, they were met with a blast of heat as Spencer guided Y/n to the back bench. Every seat in the sauna faced a wall made of glass that overlooked a small lake with a fountain cascading in the middle. As he relaxed into his seat, Y/n decided to lay out on the bench beside him and use his thigh as a head rest. 

Neither of them said a word as they gazed out the window, watching the birds fly by and the ducks swim in the lake. 

Spencer thought back to the night of Penelope’s party. After he had pushed himself to the wall to avoid interacting with people, he did end up watching from afar as Y/n made her way around talking to all the guests. He might have initially felt intimidated, but he was also fascinated with her. He’d seen a lot of different people with his job, and he’d seen people with colourfully dyed hair before as well, but something about her red curls just drew in his eyes and he couldn’t take them back.

She was beautiful, enchanting even, and he wanted to get her phone number. But then he had thought back to their last case. Where they had been gone for 16 days in a row. He had watched JJ as she video called Will and her kids any chance they got. Watched Hotch take numerous phone calls from his son. Even Morgan escaped for private chats with Savannah. He wasn’t sure if that was something he would be able to handle. So eventually he said goodnight to Penelope, left the party, and left any thoughts he had about Y/n behind as well.

Now that Penelope had schemingly gotten her back into his life, he was determined to make sure he got her number before leaving again. 

Spencer and Y/n enjoyed the spa amenities for another couple hours, cycling through the recommended steps while chatting quietly or relaxing in silence. Despite not doing much, they started to feel tired from the heated pools and saunas before eventually agreeing to meet outside in the parking lot after they got changed so they could say a proper goodbye.

Spencer rushed through changing, not wanting to take too long in case Y/n decided she didn’t want to stay, and made it outside in record time. He stood off to the side at the parking lot entrance, waiting for her with his heart racing. It took her a little bit longer, but eventually he saw her walking down the path. 

Her hair was down now, damp and a little frizzy from her curls trying to poke through. Wearing a simple black zip up sweater and black leggings, she looked cozy but also like she was about to rob a bank. She smiled at him when she reached his spot, taking his hand in hers to lead him to where she parked. The lot had almost emptied, leaving mostly staff vehicles and the last few remaining spa guests wanting to get every minute out of their visit as they could. Even with the empty lot, Y/n led Spencer to her car, a little black Honda, parked alone in the corner lit up only by the bright moon in the sky. 

“Thanks for letting me hang out with you tonight, Spencer,” Y/n told him when they stopped beside her car. She didn’t move to unlock it, opting instead to stand there with her hand still clasped in his.

“Of course. It was really lovely to see you again, Y/n,” said Spencer. Okay, he thought to himself, now is the time to do it. Bite the bullet and ask for her number. “Would you, maybe, be willing to exchange numbers and we can plan to go out for coffee some time soon?”

Y/n broke into a smile. “I would love that,” she said before reciting her number. She knew he would remember it, if Penelope’s constant chatter about how amazing Spencer’s memory is was to be true. 

“Awesome. So, I guess I’ll talk to you later?” Spencer moved to head back to his own vehicle but was stopped by a hand placed on the centre of his chest.

“Yeah. Or,” said Y/n, “Maybe we could do this?”

Before he could ask what ‘this’ was, she used the hand on his chest to push him back against the door of her car. Then she leaned in, rising up onto her toes to try and match his height, and placed her lips on his. It was quick, but enough to leave Spencer breathless, before she pulled away the slightest bit to look into his eyes.

“Is this okay?” she asked, and when he mumbled out a yes, nodding his head, she wasted no time going back in.

Their lips crashed together in an instant, almost too eager to finally be getting what they’ve both been craving all night. Y/n removed her hand from his chest to bring both of them into his hair, feeling the damp curls and giving them a little tug. Spencer brought his arms around her waist tightly, bringing her in closer to help relieve the strain of standing on her toes. 

He couldn’t believe this was happening, and in a parking lot. But he wouldn’t change a thing. Y/n’s hands made their way down to the back of his neck, before she brought them to his jaw. He let out a groan when she pulled on his bottom lip with her teeth, before their tongues collided with one another.  

Spencer brought his hands down even further, to grip the soft area at the back of her thigh just underneath her butt. He used his new grip to pull her up higher, spinning them around so that it was her back pressed against the car this time. She wrapped her legs around him to hold on as Spencer moved one of his hands up to her face, running his fingers along her jaw before finally pushing her hair back away from her neck. He broke away from her mouth to trail kisses along her neck, stopping to suck or nip at areas that drew a soft moan from her lips. He made his way down to her chest, where she had left part of the sweater unzipped. 

When he pulled back on the sweater he stopped with a groan, breathing deeply as he held her closer and grew tighter in his pants. Where he was expecting to see some sort of lace bra, instead he was met with nothing. She wasn’t wearing anything under the sweater. Hungrily, he opened her sweater more and he attached himself to the soft swell of her breast. Kissing, sucking, and gently biting. 

Without even realizing it, they started to move against each other. Spencer rolled his hips against hers, seeking that friction but focusing his attention on the skin between his lips. 

“Oh, fuck.” Y/n threw her head back in a moan as Spencer finally attached his mouth to the hard nub that was waiting for attention. He swirled his tongue around as he sucked on the sensitive area. “That feels so good.” she groaned. She brought her hands up to tangle them in his hair and hold him in place, only letting him move when he wanted to show her other side some love as well. 

It was difficult to move much against the car, but Spencer was hitting her in all the right places. Y/n could feel a familiar welcomed pressure building in her core and she gripped her legs tighter around him.

“Spencer,” y/n breathed out. “I’m close.”

He lifted his head enough to look at her. Her head back and eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. “Yeah?” he asked and she nodded her head while trying to move her hips faster against his. 

Spencer ground into her with a new purpose now. Paying more attention to the moves from his hips, he went back to sucking on her breast. This time he brought his hand to palm the other one. Squeezing and feeling the fullness of it in his hand. He rolled and pinched her nipple between his fingers at the same time as he gently grazed his teeth over the other one. It was enough to send Y/n over the edge, with Spencer right behind her. 

Spencer’s thrusts grew short until eventually they stopped as they came down from their high. He brought her in for another kiss, lazily moving his lips against hers while they got their breathing under control. Finally, Y/n unwrapped her legs from around him and he let her go.

“Holy shit. I can’t believe we just did that,” she said with a suddenly shy smile and glanced up at him. He looked down at her like he was seeing an angel. 

“Yeah,” he breathed out. He gripped the edges of her sweater and zipped it up tight to her neck. “What do you say we skip the coffee and go right back to my place?”

“I like the way you think. Lead the way.”

Click here for chapter 2! Available on AO3 only because it's basically smut and I was too nervous to post it on Tumblr lol

Thank you for reading, liking, or rebloging! <3

[rookiesbookies]

Hi i love the empress and male!concubines idea with the COD boys, I def think that it'll be interesting to see more hcs for this idea/au?

Alright my little anon. Truthfully I should have given more details in the og post (it also started as a rant about how I couldn’t handle a poly relationship because of my anxiety (I also saw a post about a girl who had 4 partners and didn’t get any attention and it made me sad so that's also way).) I have been stewing on this idea though so here’s some hc. Might do more if people are still interested in it or want more, I do love talking about my AUs (like this one and the Greek god one, so let me know if you want me to go more bc stuff like this rattles around my brain)

Also apparently there is a term for a male concubine and they’re called concubinatus or a concubinus. Honestly I took Latin and the fact I didn’t expect this lowkey brings me pain.

General HC?

The first empress in a long time. And the first empress to like her concubinuses (hope that's right) more than the idea of marrying for an emperor. So the council decided to bring you only the best warriors to keep. They of course still must serve occasionally but they have been elevated in status to there is lower risk anything will happen. Mostly kept as tacticians or kept to train the new boys joining the country’s military.

Konig and Krueger were taken as trophies of war for the Empress. They were two of the largest, smartest, and strongest men from the battlefield.

When the two were adjusting, it was difficult. The empress was gracious with them, mentioning how she wouldn’t dare make them do anything, apologizing for the war and the loss. Truthfully trying to get them comfortable, and the two were honestly shocked but I’ll get into that more in their sections.

Keegan was sent as a gift by a neighboring nation looking for peace and protection. He had a good time adjusting, sometimes making comments about how this treatment is too good for nasty military dogs like all of them but I’ll touch on that more later.

Price

Price was probably the first concubinus. He had been a strong warrior and was deemed by the council to be a good fit for what they were hoping for. He also, however, did not intend to retire from his position so they had to find an alternate reason to stop him from getting in trouble.

For him it was awkward. His empress was a bit younger than him, however he did crave to be a father. While the empress didn’t intend to fall pregnant yet, he would be on his best behavior when the opportunity came.

The chance to be the father of the next royal was something he couldn’t miss.

Soap

Both him and Gaz were best in their class, breaking records, so it only made sense it seems to send them to the empress once they got their prime years out of them.

He was probably the last concubinus to come in before the gift and the trophies of war. He has the more vicious puppy eyes. He waits for you like a dog every time you leave and enter. Always talks about how much more comfortable your bed is and how nice it is to lay with you. Definitely sweet talks you even though he’s already a concubinus.

Will literally do anything you say and it’s partially because he thinks he will get sent back to the military full time if he doesn’t.

Ghost

Definitely does checks on all the palace guards to make sure they’re up to spec. If even one slacks he uses his power to make them run.

This is all because of how gracious the empress has been with him. When he had a fit of ptsd (i'm thinking anxiety attack or something) she invited him into her room and away from the others so he didn’t feel embarrassed and comforted him as best she could before making him some tea. With an empire that stretches across Europe he was impressed she had the time to stop and care about a random concubinus.

Definitely was surprised he told you as much as he did and how you listened and comforted him. Telling him you’d never make him do anything he wasn’t comfortable with was something he appreciated.

Gaz

See the first paragraph of Soap’s bc Im not copying it again.

Since I feel like Gaz is the older of the two (he seems to have a maturity I dont see as much in Soap idk?) He was sent to her first of the two for his ‘semi-retirement’. Now they just need them to occasionally train incoming recruits.

He definitely enjoyed adjusting to the cushy life of the castle. He liked being able to keep his weapons since he did double as a personal guard for the empress. But he likes that he and the other concubinus get a hot tub more, definitely likes all the fancy clothes.

His job is the have sex with his sexy empress, what’s not to love?

Konig

Truthfully, when he was being cocky toward the other concubinus and you pulled him away into a separate room to tell him you knew he was compensating for his anxiety, he was more than shocked. He was stunned into silence.

So when you reached your hands under his hood and rubbed his cheeks, telling him it was ok and he didn’t need to act out, he melted. He had never truly been shown such softness, so to be shown it by the empress of the enemy? He was so conflicted. With a pat on his chest you told him he could take on his position fully when he was more comfortable and that you were concerned for him and there if he needed to talk. He was still quiet.

Krueger

Was not interested. No matter how many compliments you gave him or gifts you sent, he wouldn’t budge. He was grumpy and hostile. So much so he made the other concubinus nervous especially for you.

It wasn’t until you pulled him into your room that night that he relaxed quite a bit under your soft hands and apologies. Massaging his tired muscles, and lulling him into a sense of security. Now he understood how Konig folded so easily.

He offered to return the favor but you told him not until he was more comfortable and made him promise to play nice. He agreed but only to be a bit nicer.

Keegan

He honestly believes this treatment is too good for all of them. They were dogs of war, animals trained to kill, and now they’re dressed in fancy clothes? With an empress who dotes on them when they should be doting on her? Truthfully he baffles him. He isn’t ungrateful, he just didn’t expect to become a concubinus when sent here. He expected a joint military operation or to be a representative. He hit it off quickly with the group from the empire���s military.

The two from the war keep to themselves and the shorter one threatened to bite him.

Often feels the most out of place because he is the only one from his area, but he doesn’t complain. He gets nice gifts and is invited into your room pretty often, so he appreciates every moment. He wonders if it would be proper or allowed for him to get you gifts?

I was surprising more eager to write this ask than I thought. Let me know if yall want me to do formal parts to this? Maybe an actual fic for this au?

Masterlist is pinned on profile as always, don’t forget to leave me a comment or a request in my inbox to let me know what yall want to see!

[itsabouttimex2]

Yandere Alphabet: Red Son

Authority: Do they see themselves as above their obsession?

Yes, yes, and yes. A thousand times over. Red Son’s pride is unmitigatable, an ever-searing pillar of his person. Y/N is viewed as a silly mortal pet, with a collar to boot. Though his opinion of you might eventually improve to seeing you as something of a friend, it still wouldn’t be great.

Bread: Can they cook or bake? Is their obsession responsible for their own food?

So long as they don’t injure themselves further than a mild burn or cut, Y/N is allowed free roam in the kitchen, allowed to make themselves what they please. Good behavior earns them a little fridge all to themselves, stocked with healthy snacks and ingredients they enjoy- Red Son can be generous, when he wants to be.

Not that he won’t steal from your plate if the things you cook look good enough. In a way, it elevates your status with him, sharing food with you as family would.

If you do get hurt too bad, Red revokes your access to the stove, oven, and knives. He’ll starts to make your meals for you, with the addendum that you help with the non-dangerous stages of food prep. Of course, what’s actually happening is that he’s making extra portions of what he likes, then giving it to you. Let’s hope you like spicy food.

Cruentus- How do they respond to Y/N being hurt, both slightly and severely?

Immediate scorching of whoever dared to lay their hands on property of the Demon Bull Family ensues, and then continues until their flesh has carbonized. Red Son will clean and bind your wounds with a firm hand, viciously scolding you for daring to put yourself in a position where you might be harmed in the first place. “My family has a reputation to maintain, you numbskull! If anyone sees you damaged, what will they think of us?!”

This lecture will occur even if the perpetrator broke into the Demon Bull fortress and smashed down the door of your room to get to you. After some time has passed, he’ll feel slightly bad for blaming you, and bring you something sugary to drink.

If the wound is minor, like a cut or scratch, Red Son will scoff at the weakness of your skin and ignore it, mocking you as ‘whiny’ and ‘pathetic’. If the issue persists, he’ll steal a few high quality first aid kits from a hospital and throw them onto your shelf.

Disengage- What’s their response to being ignored?

Laughter. Mocking, howling laughter. And then an immediate removal of privileges and freedom until they ‘grow up’, in Red’s own words.

Enclosure: Where do they keep Y/N? Do they have a place for them at all?

In the Demon Bull Family’s Fortress. Y/N has a section in Red Son’s room all to themselves, with a little mattress and small shelf to fit several personal possessions. During the beginning of their captivity, Y/N will be shown a length of chain bolted to the wall with a shackle on one end- a warning that freedom is now a privilege, not a right. You’ll have to wear it all through the night for many months on end if you make any escape attempts.

Facade: Are they good at hiding their true intentions?

No. But that’s only because doesn’t even try. The most he’ll do is lie to his parents about the depth of his obsession- and they’re willing to believe (for a time) that he merely wanted an amusing little pet to keep him company.

Garment: Do they take control of Y/N’s clothes?

Yes, to a stifling extreme. Red Son will torch the entirety of your wardrobe in order to replace it with something more suited to him and the tastes of his family- expect lots of red and purple. Secretly, Red enjoys matching with you. He might spare a few pieces of your clothing from his fire if you argue to their sentimental value. Also, he’ll do your hair, likely in a way that resembles his mother’s style. He might even force you to grow it out so that he can pin it up in twin ‘bull horns’.

Again, he forces you to wear a collar stamped with the family insignia (pictured here twice, the Chinese word for ‘bull’, written in bone script), but good behavior will have him upgrade you to a large pendant instead.

Also, you’re getting a bindi/tattoo like his- but only after he’s shifted you from ‘pet’ to ‘sibling’.

Handicap: How do they handle Y/N being or becoming disabled?

Unfortunately, a disabled Y/N in the clutches of Red Son is very likely to be the victim of humiliation and dehumanization- for a time. As his affection and care for you grows, the blade of his pendulum swings. He switches quickly from constant mockery and boundary stomping to stifling care and strict restriction. One day he’ll be kicking your crutch or hiding your anxiety meds while you panic, the next he’s demanding you to relegate yourself to the constant use of a wheelchair and punishing you for not taking your medicine where he can see it.

Intertwine- How physical are they? Do they enjoy skinship and touch?

Red Son is pretty reserved in terms of touch- he’ll accept minor displays of physical affection, but rarely initiates. When he does, you can expect condescending headpats and lots of hair brushing. If you’re feeling particularly down, he’ll muster up a half-hearted hug, awkwardly thumping your back.

Jaunt: Are they willing to take Y/N out in public? Where do they go?

No. Not unless they’re willing to be led around by the aforementioned shackle, the chains rattling with each step taken. However, Red Son might teleport them to somewhere isolated and empty for a few minutes, allowing them a little bit of fresh air as a quick reward for compliance and obedience.

Kindness: What brings out the best in this yandere?

The Crystal Heir AU leaves him extremely protective towards Y/N, acknowledging their trauma and suffering- and he works to be a better person for them.

Alternatively, when you get very sick- Red Son will stay beside you all the while, stuffing you with water, medicine, and hand-made soup. Having you completely vulnerable only serves to make him softer, given that you can’t fight or sass him- he might even cuddle you once or twice, letting you rest against his ever-warm body.

Limitation: What holds them back? Work? Family obligations? Physical weakness?

His family’s goals and ambitions are always at the fore of Red’s mind, a perpetual desire to please them. Given the time he has to spend planning or tinkering, Y/N does have time to themselves- enough to plan or attempt an escape, if they can muster the courage.

Morals: What lines are they not willing to cross?

Any form of ‘rigorous’ discipline or outright abuse. Red Son doesn’t want to waste his time doing something like caning your thighs or whipping you hands, and wouldn’t ever beat you outright. You might get slapped on the back of the head or receive a sharp swat on your nose- but he wouldn’t really go any further. Also, no deliberately putting Y/N in danger. He’s just not risking it.

Nausea: Can they tend to an illness, or would they rely on a doctor?

He handles it himself. As mentioned before, Red Son plies you with water, soup, and medicine. He’ll restrict you to his own bed, sleeping in the guest room as you recover- and he’ll sneak in during the night to wipe the sweat from your brow and refill your glass.

Obcordate: What reminds them of Y/N?

Food and drink with warming (but not spicy) spices, like cookies with a dash of ginger and cinnamon. Stray dogs that would be better off taken in hand and brought somewhere safe. Any little flower that’s blooming all alone.

Pacify: How do they comfort Y/N? Do they even bother trying?

Jokes aside, he’s not too great- but there’ll be some mild, concerned effort. Maybe just lay your head in his lap and let him play with your hair- it’s more comfortable for him trying to give you a hug or pep talk.

Queue: Do they have something of equal or greater importance to Y/N?

His family. Red’s obsession with Y/N will never come before his love for his parents, even after they find themselves forcibly ‘adopted’.

Redemption: Could they grow out of their obsession and make amends with Y/N?

Unlikely, but not impossible. After several months/years spent spent with them, Red Son will grow more protective and less cruel, but his obsession never really fades.

Sobriquet- What nicknames do for they have for their obsession?

Many mocking and insulting epithets are bestowed upon Y/N, the most frequent being, you guessed it- peasant. If Red Son grows particularly angry, he’ll get more threatening with his wording, referring to you as ‘kindling’ or ‘firewood’.

After a few months spent in captivity, he might refer to you as little sister (妹妹) or little brother (弟弟). These moments are fleeting, but impossibly soft and genuine- and after a few months or even years spent acclimating to your new life, you might see fit to call him older brother (哥哥).

Troop: How many people do they obsess over? Is that obsession spread equally?

Just one- Y/N.

Underdog: Who‘s on the yandere’s side? Would they help out?

His parents are massive enablers, unfortunately. So what if their son has a little mortal pet? They want to take over the world- Red Son taking one of the mortals that they wish to subjugate as a slave/pet/companion does not bother them at all.

Though they do find you to be very cute- especially when Red Son forces you to dress and style yourself like a member of their family.

Vocalize: How do they justify their actions?

Red doesn’t bother- he doesn’t need justification. He wanted Y/N, so he took them. The end, with no regret.

White Whale: Why do they pursue Y/N? What caused this obsessive love?

Probably they do one or two nice things for him and he snatches them up, not unlike a human adopting a cute and friendly stray. The bulk of his obsession comes later, after he’s spent enough time to start caring about you.

Xanthous: What do they really want?

Approval, attention, and affection. Red Son switches from desperately seeking his father’s pride and love to demanding to have yours, finding it a much easier goal to achieve.

Youth: How old is Y/N in comparison to them? Younger, same age, or older?

Given that they’re almost invariably a mortal he finds amusing, Y/N is much younger.

Zealous: Do they pursue Y/N doggedly, or are they more laidback and casual with their approach?

Red Son is extremely casual the majority of the time- he’s entitled and prideful to the point that he sees nothing wrong with what he’s doing. Why would he be anything but relaxed?

Author’s Choice 1: What do Princess Iron Fan and Demon Bull King think of Y/N?

Iron Fan thinks of you as adorable when Red Son styles your hair like hers, and might even throw some of her old clothes your way- they’re abraded to softness and cozy to sleep in, offering some comfort during long nights. She’s not too opposed to having you as part of the family, even if she has to help her son “train” you into obedience and politeness.

The Demon Bull King uses you as practice for his future rule over mortals, making demands of you. He chuckles as you scurry about to fulfill them, trying hard to avoid his ire. Occasionally he’ll lift you by the scruff of your shirt, examining you closely. It’s fun to watch you yelp and kick, fearful that he’ll drop or crush you- he won’t actually do either, to his credit. It’s just funny to him that you think he might.

[teddywesworl]

while im still worked up about this, one more thing: there are absolutely 100% without a doubt creators in the fandom space who post their work and expect to be fawned over. there are people who make fanart and/or publish fic as a means to the end of being elevated to BNF status and receiving large quantities of ego-boosting engagement. this is also, obviously, not great. but from the existence of these climbers, it does not naturally follow that we should all openly tear other creatives down in comment sections. that doesn't solve the problem of 'this person is trying to position themselves at the top of a social hierarchy that should instead be a level field,' it just reinforces that the hierarchy exists at all

[notthesomefather]

Prayer Writing: My Process

Why do I write prayers?

I write prayers mainly for two reasons. The first reason I would write a prayer is that I feel compelled to put in a little extra effort for a deity whose presence has either recently aided me or that I appreciate in general. The second reason I would write a prayer would be to have something repeatable that I can memorize and recite mentally or verbally at more impromptu moments (one example was when I came upon a statue of Odin in the forest, I wanted to have something to say that felt a bit elevated and worded my sentiments more precisely than if I'd come up with something on the spot).

When do I write prayers?

I write when I feel compelled for the reasons I mentioned above. I used to write one prayer a week, and I think that was good practice initially to get into the habit and develop my voice, but a strict schedule is not the structure I currently need.

To whom do I write prayers?

As I mentioned above, my prayers can be very targeted (either toward deities who have blessed me with recent or substantial aid or toward deities with whom I have a stronger bond). I also write more general prayers, usually ones of gratitude, intended for all the gods and disir who would hear them. I don't worry about ensuring each deity gets the same number or type of prayer as I've found when a deity wants to be honored, they will let you know. It's been my experience that some gods demand or appreciate formal acts of worship (such as prayers or rituals in their honor) more than others.

How do I write prayers?

This is the big question, isn't it? This is likely not the answer some folks were looking for but: it truly depends. I used to experiment with strict rules or structures within my prayers, including syllable count, rhymes, etc., but I've found that the god(s) I'm hoping to honor will guide the nature of the prayer. I've found that some gods appreciate a looser approach that is more raw and less "prettied up." In contrast, others seem to appreciate the time and effort of my making the prayer fit a more intentional, poetic structure (for example, Saga and Odin seem like they belong in the latter category, while Thor and Hel seem to appreciate intent more than content). One method of prayer-writing I found helpful to get started was utilizing the number nine. I would write nine lines (three sections with three lines per section), and each line would contain nine syllables--I wouldn't stress about rhyming if I were already using this structure, but if I could, I would try to make the last line of each section rhyme as a bonus.

TLDR: I advise trying out different structures to find your voice and see what feels right and remembering that even gods who may eventually prefer "fancier" prayers/rituals always appreciate your intent no matter how the prayer is written. And remember, prayers do not have to be written at all--this is just a method of worship I enjoy and feel benefits my practice. Your prayers are appreciated whether they are impromptu, sung, danced, drawn, written, thought silently, or any other form of expression.

[a-risk-to-take]

….you posted your tattoo (sick) and linked to house of dirk and i read it all and its unfinished. if you hadn’t posted i may have lived my life without getting fanfic blue balled for the first time since 2015. if you have any sympathy for my loss you would give me fanfic recs >:[ /lh

I feel your pain believe me 😭😭 I’m sorry I didn’t warn you at least. I’m low-key hoping the tattoo image gets to imarriedacherub and inspires them to continue the story - obviously not likely but it’s nice to dream!

I got recs for you though! I’ve got hundreds of bookmarks on my ao3 but here’s the HS stuff I love the most:

The epics:

Dayvhe’s Broken Diamond Club and everything by @unda-dsk: DBDC is my personal fave of theirs, and the best treatment of troll culture in any fic ever. If you know HS fic you are probably aware of MC Escher That’s My Favorite MC, and that one is absolutely excellent and completely deserves its status as one of the very best. And then there’s Alternate Universe, which is a perfect and beautiful magic school story. All of these are absolutely top-tier - I cannot stress this enough. They are epic and very long but some of the best stuff I’ve ever read—fanfic or otherwise—and they changed me when I read them. Despite the length, DBDC is very episodic so you can read each chapter as its own story and easily take breaks in between them without losing the flow, so you might want to start there. I promise it’s worth it!!

so we don’t kill the ones we love by @callmearcturus: I’ve never read anyone who can create an atmosphere like Arc can - this one is kind of a John Wick AU but in a really refreshing and elevated way. The characterization is so on point. Lots more I could rave about but I’ll just add that Arc’s Karkats are the hottest and most based out there. Again all his stuff is really good - this one is my favorite, but don’t miss this really cool magic artisan AU also.

The meteorstucks:

Aahhh there’s no way this is gonna be complete because I’ve read like hundreds and I get them confused but these are some that stand out. In case you haven’t notice already this list is gonna be very davekat centric!

Keep It Down by sburbanite - chef’s kiss concept and execution just read it

A Xenological Exploration of Music and Language by superbloom - super fun and well written with neat headcanon - and turned me on to some great music

I’m actually gonna just declare this section unfinished for now - I need to revisit these and remind myself what’s what - stay tuned!

Illustrated

Since you liked HoD you might be looking for more comic-y stuff with art. Definitely check out @chthonicarcher’s amazing davekats! Such as That’s All We Are

Dream a Little Dream of Me by koroke - this is just a little dream bubble comic but it’s simply the loveliest and I’m massively envious of the art style

Gonna Need Some Windex by the End of the Year by magniloquentChanteuse - more artistic storytelling just neat!

More

It’s About Time by @laurasauras - this is a sweet cute lovely little time travel davekat that I actually sent to a friend to read who knew nothing about HS and successfully led them into the fandom. (Followed by AU by Unda). Laurasauras is prolific and there are so many great fics written by them I can’t list them all here but they are one of my absolute favorite authors. Their understanding of the strider psyche is absolutely impeccable

The Worst Goddamn Movies Ever Fucking Made by writerbot - this fic brought me so much hilarity and joy I can’t even tell you. The Karkat voice is perfect and delightful and the social media interludes are so fucking funny and impressive. One of the first fics to show me how creative and funny this fandom can be.

I’m surely going to add to this - there are so many more meteorstucks and other authors I know I’ll think of after I post this - but I don’t want to spend too much longer on this now when you could be reading some of this great stuff! ENJOY!!

[acsisz]

About DecaPolice's possible 18+ age rating (TGS info translation)

*Image above is from Level-5's official website's TGS Report Day 1.

So, back in September during TGS, Akihiro Hino (Level-5's President/CEO) had a stage interview with Danganronpa & Rain Code's creator Kazutaka Kodaka.

The video has since been deleted from Level-5's official channel (since they had said they'd only archive it for 3 months).

But I've rewatched that video so many times I can almost rewind a section of their conversation back in my head 😅.

And that section is about Decapolice's age rating.

Basically, what happened was:

Hino: I like the games made by Western people, it makes me feel like we Japanese people should band up and do our best as well.

Kodaka: Speaking of Western, I know Level-5 usually make family-friendly games, but don't you want to try making a CERO-Z (18+) game like them?

Hino: Well, to be honest, it's not a proclamation or anything, but the game we're currently making, Decapolice, might actually be CERO-Z (18+).

Kodaka: Seriously?

Hino: Yes. It looks cute on the outside, but the inside's just messy (dorodoro). It's hard since, when developing it I'm always told "No, you can't. That's impossible for this country and that country." (As in impossible to sell in some countries AKA banned). When faced with that, it makes me feel like, "Well, should we not then?". But still, I want to stay true to Decapolice's original essence as much as possible.

Kodaka: Then, do you like brutal scenes too?

Hino: No, no, I don't really like brutal scenes. But, I made those scenes so they could in turn elevate other better, more beautiful, scenes.

Kodaka: I've played the demo, but it feels like a team game, full of fun and light-hearted.

Hino: Oh no, the actual thing is super dark. It's filled with things like 'revenge', 'karma', etc.

Kodaka: Is that so?

Hino: Yes, this time (TGS) we're pushing it as another one of Level-5's family-friendly game. Although, in the upcoming future we'll be revealing what the game truly is, little by little.

Kodaka: I see, I'm pretty interested now.

And that's it.

I have confidence in my memory & translation ability, and you can also find the same info from both JP & ENG twitter accounts that were watching the interview, all shocked 😂.

Also, this Famitsu news article that basically wrote down their convos (in Japanese & shortened): https://s.famitsu.com/news/202309/23318239.html

One more thing...

I just want to mention that Decapolice's use of puppet forms is because Level-5 wants to sort of 'side-step' the age rating system, by making them cute puppets and dolls.

Here's a link to that bit of info's translation by user @DartsEnthusiast on twitter (they also post the original article's link there): https://twitter.com/DartsEnthusiast/status/1636145350749704194?t=R9lBFMpto7vC6qUjPqAt8Q&s=19

...And with that, see you guys later 👍🏻

[flnpushy]

Helios: A New Era Story 1

A little shorter then my usual stories, but this is a taste of whats to come for the Helios series.

It had been 6 months since Kara’s triumphant experimental birth. She was rewarded by becoming Dr. Karens Vice president. Kara was now finished with initial training, and the renovations to the Helios Birthing Center were complete. There were now 2500 birthing women in the facility, 20 new gardens along with 10 new birth pools added. Kara played a huge part in designing the new gardens and facilities. She was now a full fledged member of the Helios Society and was now to begin experimentation as well as assisting birthing mothers at the site. 

Helios A New Era: Kara’s first birth assist. 

It was early morning in Kara’s office located in the north tower of Helios birthing facility. The office was similar to the labs below it. Very sterile, white, and mostly featureless. Kara was writing some new experimental birth agendas when a call came in from Helios Security. 

“Security too Kara.” The device said.

“Go ahead.” Kara said.

“Please respond to garden 15R upper level. We have a mother struggling to birth.” security said. 

“On my way up.” Kara said.

Kara gathered her to-go bag of supplies and headed out the door. Once out of the office Kara boarded an electric scooter and made her way down the corridor to the Central Halls. The central halls were the eating place as well as the center hub of the entire facility. It was common to house 500-750 women at any given time. Kara made her way down the scooter path passing walking women and staff members. She then hung a right turn to go towards gardens 7-15 corridor. A 1/4 mile later she arrived at garden 15. She entered the garden, so lush and resembling the Amazon rain forest, a trickle of stream water could be heard nearby. She boarded a clear see-through elevator up to the 15R block of the garden facility. Garden 15 was a new remodel that Kara had taken part in designing. She was very proud of it, and happy to see mothers using it to birth. 

“Kara to security” Kara com linked. 

“Go ahead.” Security said. 

“Which section of 15R?” Kara asked. 

“Go to the far block, section 10.” Security replied. 

“10-4, mothers name?” Kara responded. 

“Felicity” Security said 

Kara walked to the far back corner of the 15R Jungle section. It was near a small water fall and pond. She arrived at a birthing station. The modern birthing station designed by Kara herself contained many elements for a birthing mother. It was equipped with a bed, bidet for washing, birth stool, squat bar, lubrication and pad station, and so much more. Also like any other place in the facility the entire floor was a self cleaning membrane, so mothers could birth anywhere freely. Their lying on the bed, on her side, was Felicity, the mother in question. 

Felicity was a young red head girl, she was 19 and new to the facility. She was bigger boned an had wider hips. Kara walked up as she was mid-push. Felicity was side laying, with one leg pulled up. Kara could hear felicity grunting hard through a tough push. She could also see a liver of the babies head visible in her vaginal opening. She was in full birth mode, but apparently struggling. 

“Hello!” Kara said as she walked up. 

Felicity turned her head to look, she smiled as she saw Kara. 

“Oh I’m glad you're here!” She said. “I need help.”

“Ok, let's see where you are at.” Kara said Grabbing her portable device.

Kara scanned Felicity’s arm tag. All mothers at Helios had an implanted arm tag to monitor health and track cycles. 

Kara received the tag info:

Person ID: Felicity

Age: 19

Status: Pregnant- in birth 

Time in labor: 168 hours (1 week)

Pushing time: 96 hours (4 days)

Child weight: Unknown, probe needed.

Child number: 1st baby 

Kara grabbed her probe next. She inserted the end into Felicity’s vagina. 

“Ok push for me.” Kara said 

Felicity tried a hard push, Now lying on her back, she pulled back her legs to push. Kara noticed she curled her little toes as she struggled to push. Felicity’s belly tensed and her belly button protruded out during the struggle. 

Kara got the data: 

Weight: 21 pounds 

Gender: Male

Semen type: 52C EXP 

Position: Posterior 

“Good girl, nice push!” Kara said. Felicity moaned as the push ended. “The little head is just inside you. Looks like 21 pounds and a first time mommy, this is a stuck little boy!” 

“Ive been pushing for 4 days and i just cant get it out!” Felicity said. 

“Well first time mommy and a 21 pound baby….” Kara said. “Plus little man is a type 52C so his head is a bit larger. Makes for a tough birth.” 

“So why am I pregnant with a larger baby for the first one?” Felicity asked. 

“You were selected because of your wider hips, it was determined you could likely birth a larger baby.” Kara said. 

“Well I’m starting to think that I cant get him out of me, he’s just to big!” Felicity said.

“Oh he’ll come out.” Kara said. “He’s just being a bit stubborn in there.”

“I want him out!!” Felicity yelped as a strong contraction overtook her. She pulled back her legs and made a large push. Kara noticed that she was opening up, the little head was making an appearance. As felicity pushed Kara opened felicity’s vagina up a bit more with her hands. 

“Ohh he’s wiggling around in there! He’s moving his little head back and forth trying to stretch you!” Kara said.

“Good, wiggle out! “ Felicity said. “Can he wiggle out on his own?” 

“No silly, he can try but he needs mommy to push him out. He’s too big to wiggle outta there!” Kara said.

Felicity pushed again. This time the babies head came a bit more into view. Inevitably however the head slowly retracted back inside after the push.

“Good girl, he loves mommies belly, doesn’t wanna come out of there!” Kara said. 

“Come out!” Felicity yelled. 

“Relax, he will come.” Kara said. 

“Lets check him again.” Kara said.

Kara pulled out her probe and placed it inside Felicity’s vagina. The probe tapped the babies head. 

“All is well in your belly.” Kara said. 

Kara reached over and grabbed some lube from the station. She liberally applied it around Felicity’s opening and inside around the babies head. 

“Lets get you lubed up and help him slide out.” Kara said. 

Other hour of pushing went by, felicity tried side laying, squatting, and even the birth stool. The baby in her belly just wasn’t moving. However the head was now staying down. Felicity’s vagina opening was now opened up in a tear drop shape around the babies head. Felicity continued to push for 2 more hours like this with no progress. A little meconium was starting to come out of felicity’s opening around the babies head. 

“Lets get you cleaned up hun.” Kara said. 

Kara assisted Felicity over to the bidet. Felicity sat down and Kara grabbed the shower head attachment. Warm water began to flow over Felicity’s opening as Kara washed. The warm water felt good for felicity as she began to moan. Kara used her hand to wipe down Felicity. She also cleaned the babies head as it was poking out ever so slightly. The wash finished and Felicity returned to the bed to lay down. 

“Felicity, there is trick we need to try. Here at helios we cannot do c-sections, they are too risky for mother and baby. So we need to figure out how to get the baby to progress.” Kara mentioned.

“I want you to pleasure yourself and orgasm. It will help advance the baby, and help you relax.”

Kara pulled a small vibrator from her pocket.

“You know what to do.” She smiled.

Felicity applied the device to her clit area and began working toward orgasm. About 10 minutes passed.

“Im getting it! Getting it” Felicity yelped. 

“Ok mommy, let it go, and push hard at the same time.” Kara said.

“Ahhhhhh! mmmmmm! ahhhhhhuuuuggg!” Felicity mumbled. 

The orgasm began and felicity pushed. Her belly contracted heavily as she pulled back on her legs, delivering a massive push. The babies head contracted in and out with the strong contractions. As it did, it slowly advanced. 

“Push Push Push!” Kara yelped.

Felicity continued to push until her orgasm ended. The babies head had progressed to crown. Her vagina was stretched very far, farther than even Kara thought it would.

Felicity settled after the orgasm, her baby stuck fast at full crown. 

“Dont relax too much hun, he could slip back in!” Kara warned.

Felicity kept a steady push.

“I can feel him wiggling!” Felicity said.

“Yeah, he’s trying to get out of there!” Kara said. 

Kara felt around the crowning head.

“Wow that’s one stuck little guy there, Very tight!” Kara said. 

Felicity made another big push. To their amazement the head popped out! 

“Oh my, didn’t think he was going to come that easy!” Kara said. “Hey there big guy.” Kara said as she touched the now birthed head. 

“The shoulders could take, minutes, hour, or even days, depending upon size and position. I think this baby just has a big head, he should come out fine now.” Kara mentioned.

Felicity pushed for another hour. The baby slowly rotated and made its way out. Kara was right, the rest of the baby was much easier. This birth was over, But Kara was now called to another interesting mission. 

[wheelscomedyandmore]

The unforgettable car chase in "Bullitt," featuring Steve McQueen racing through the streets of San Francisco in a Ford Mustang GT 390 Fastback, was not only a cinematic milestone but a direct result of McQueen’s insistence on authenticity and realism. His passion for driving and attention to detail shaped every frame of the film’s most iconic sequence, ensuring it would leave an indelible mark on Hollywood action filmmaking.

Steve McQueen’s involvement in "Bullitt" began when he was drawn to the gritty realism of Robert L. Fish’s novel "Mute Witness," which served as the basis for the film. He envisioned his character, Frank Bullitt, as a departure from the stereotypical police roles of the era, opting instead for a more grounded and understated portrayal. McQueen collaborated closely with director Peter Yates to bring this vision to life, insisting on an authentic depiction of police work and urban life in San Francisco.

The centerpiece of "Bullitt" was its groundbreaking car chase, a sequence that would redefine the action genre. McQueen, an avid racing enthusiast, was adamant about performing many of his own stunts. He personally selected the Ford Mustang GT 390 Fastback for his character, preferring its rugged, no-nonsense look over flashier vehicles. His hands-on approach extended to the chase’s choreography, as he worked with stunt coordinator Carey Loftin and drivers like Bud Ekins and Bill Hickman to craft a sequence that felt raw and unscripted.

Filming the chase was an ambitious and painstaking process. The production shut down sections of San Francisco’s famously steep streets, capturing dynamic shots of the Mustang and Dodge Charger weaving through traffic, jumping over hills, and skidding around corners. McQueen drove in many of these scenes, though Ekins performed the riskiest maneuvers. The intensity of the chase was heightened by innovative camera work, with director Peter Yates placing cameras inside and outside the vehicles to immerse viewers in the action.

One of the most striking aspects of the chase was its sound design. Instead of a traditional score, McQueen and the filmmakers opted to emphasize the visceral sounds of roaring engines, screeching tires, and crashing metal. This decision added a layer of realism that drew audiences into the action, making them feel as though they were in the driver’s seat alongside McQueen.

Despite its seamless appearance on screen, the chase was fraught with challenges during production. Mechanical failures, logistical hurdles, and near-misses added to the tension on set. McQueen’s insistence on realism often pushed the crew to their limits, but his commitment paid off. The resulting sequence felt alive and unpredictable, a testament to the dedication of everyone involved.

Beyond the chase, McQueen’s portrayal of Frank Bullitt was equally impactful. His understated performance, paired with his signature cool demeanor, made Bullitt a multidimensional character who resonated with audiences. From his carefully chosen wardrobe, featuring the now-iconic turtleneck and tweed jacket, to his quiet intensity, McQueen crafted a character that was as stylish as he was relatable.

When "Bullitt" premiered, the film was hailed as a masterpiece, with the car chase becoming its defining moment. Critics praised McQueen’s performance and the innovative approach to action sequences, which set a new benchmark for Hollywood thrillers. The chase has since become one of the most celebrated moments in cinema history, inspiring countless films and solidifying McQueen’s status as the "King of Cool."

Steve McQueen’s dedication to authenticity and innovation in "Bullitt" did more than elevate the film; it transformed action filmmaking. The legendary car chase, crafted with precision and passion, remains a high-octane thrill ride that continues to captivate audiences and set the gold standard for the genre.