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xoruffitup · 4 years ago

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Annette: The AD Devotee Review

So I saw Annette on its premiere night in Cannes and I’m still trying to process and make sense of those 2.5 hours of utter insanity. I have no idea where to begin and this is likely going to become an unholy length by the time I’m finished, so I apologize in advance. But BOY I’ve got a lot to parse through!!

Let’s start here: Adam’s made plenty of weird movies. The Dead Don’t Die? The Man Who Killed Don Quixote? There are definitely Terry Gilliam-esque elements of the unapologetically absurd and fantastical in Annette, but NOTHING comes close to this film. To put it bluntly, nothing I write in this post can prepare you for the eccentric phantasmagoria you’re about to sit through.

While the melodies conveying the story – at times lovely and haunting, at times whimsical, occasionally blunt and simple – add a unique sense of the surreal, the fact that it’s all presented in song somehow supplies the medium for this bizarre concoction of disparate elements and outlandish storytelling to all coalesce into a single genre-defying, disbelief-suspending whole. That’s certainly not to say there weren’t a few times when I quietly chortled to myself and mouthed “what the fuck” from behind my mask when things took an exceeding turn to the outrageous. This movie needs to be permitted a bit of leeway in terms of quality judgments, and traditional indicators certainly won’t apply. I would say part of its appeal (and ultimately its success) stems from its lack of interest in appealing to traditional arbiters of film structure and viewing experience. The movie lingers in studies of discomfiture (I’ll return to this theme); it presents all its absurdities with brazen pride rather than temperance; and its end is abrupt and utterly jarring. Yet somehow, at the end of it, I realized I’d been white-knuckling that rollercoaster ride the whole way through and loved every last twist and turn.

A note on the structure of this post before I dive in: I’ve written out a synopsis of the whole film (for those spoiler-hungry people) and stashed it down at the bottom of this post, so no one trying to avoid spoilers has to scroll through. If you want to read, go ahead and skip down to that before reading the discussion/analysis. If I have to reference a specific plot point, I’ll label it “Spoiler #___” and those who don’t mind being spoiled can check the correlating numbers in my synopsis to see which part I’m referencing. Otherwise, my discussion will be spoiler-free! I do detail certain individual scenes, but hid anything that would give away key developments and/or the ending.

To start, I’ll cut to what I’m sure many of you are here for: THE MUSICAL SEX SCENES. You want detailed descriptions? Well let’s fucking go because these scenes have been living in my head rent-free!!

The first (yes, there are two. Idk whether to thank Mr. Carax or suggest he get his sanity checked??) happens towards the end of “We Love Each Other So Much.” Henry carries Ann to the bed with her feet dangling several inches off the floor while she has her arms wrapped around his shoulders. (I maybe whimpered a tiny bit.) As they continue to sing, you first see Ann spread on her back on the bed, panting a little BUT STILL SINGING while Henry’s head is down between her thighs. The camera angle is from above Ann’s head, so you can clearly see down her body and exactly what’s going on. He lifts his head to croon a line, then puts his mouth right back to work.

And THEN they fuck – still fucking singing! They’re on their sides with Henry behind her, and yes there is visible thrusting. Yes, the thrusting definitely picks up speed and force as the song reaches its crescendo. Yes, it was indeed EXTREMELY sensual once you got over the initial shock of what you’re watching. Ann kept her breasts covered with her own hands while Henry went down on her, but now his hands are covering them and kneading while they’re fucking and just….. It’s a hard, blazing hot R rating. I also remember his giant hand coming up to turn her head so he can kiss her and ladkjfaskfjlskfj. Bring your smelling salts. I don’t recommend sitting between two older ladies while you’re watching – KINDA RUINED THE BLATANT, SMOKING HOT ADAM PORN FOR ME. Good god, choose your viewing buddy wisely!

The second scene comes sort of out of nowhere – I can’t actually recall which song it was during, but it pops up while Ann is pregnant. Henry is again eating her out and there’s not as much overt singing this time, but he has his giant hands splayed over her pregnant belly while he’s going to town and whew, WHEW TURN ON THE AIR CONDITIONING PLEASE. DID THE THEATER INCREASE IN TEMPERATURE BY 10 DEGREES, YOU’RE DAMN RIGHT IT DID.

Whew. I think you’ll be better primed to ~enjoy~ those scenes when you know they’re coming, otherwise it’s just so shocking that by the time you’ve processed “Look at Adam eating pussy with reckless abandon” it’s halfway over already. God speed, my fellow rats, it’s truly something to witness!!

Okay. Right. Ahem. Moving right on along….

I’ll kick off this discussion with the formal structure of the film. It’s honestly impossible to classify. I have the questionable fortune of having been taken to many a strange avant-garde operas and art exhibitions by my parents when I was younger, and the strongest parallel I found to this movie was melodramatic opera stagings full of flamboyant flourishes, austere set pieces, and prolonged numbers where the characters wallow at length in their respective miseries. This movie has all the elevated drama, spectacle, and self-aggrandizement belonging to any self-professed rock opera. Think psychedelic rock opera films a la The Who’s Tommy, Hair, Phantom of the Paradise, and hell, even Rocky Horror. Yes, this film really is THAT weird.

But Annette is also in large part a vibrant, absurdist performance piece. The film is intriguingly book-ended by two scenes where the lines blur between actor and character; and your own role blurs between passive viewer and interactive audience. The first scene has the cast walking through the streets of LA (I think?), singing “So May We Start?” directly to the camera in a self-aware prologue, smashing the fourth wall from the beginning and setting up the audience to play a direct role in the viewing experience. Though the cast then disburse and take up their respective roles, the sense of being directly performed to is reinforced throughout the film. This continues most concretely through Henry’s multiple stand-up comedy performances.

Though he performs to an audience in the film rather than directly to live viewers, these scenes are so lengthy, vulgar, and excessive that his solo performance act becomes an integral part of defining his character and conveying his arc as the film progresses. These scenes start to make the film itself feel like a one-man show. The whole shtick of Henry McHenry’s “Ape of God” show is its perverse irreverence and swaggering machismo. Over the span of what must be a five minute plus scene, Henry hacks up phlegm, pretends to choke himself with his microphone cord, prances across the stage with his bathrobe flapping about, simulates being shot, sprinkles many a misanthropic, charmless monologues in between, and ends by throwing off his robe and mooning the audience before he leaves the stage. (Yes, you see Adam’s ass within the film’s first twenty minutes, and we’re just warming up from there.) His one-man performances demonstrate his egocentrism, penchant for lowbrow and often offensive humor, and the fact that this character has thus far profited from indulging in and acting out his base vulgarities.

While never demonstrating any abundance of good taste, his shows teeter firmly towards the grotesque and unsanctionable as his marriage and mental health deteriorate. This is what I’m referring to when I described the film as a study in discomfiture. As he deteriorates, the later iterations of his stand-up show become utterly unsettling and at times revolting. The film could show mercy and stop at one to two minutes of his more deranged antics, but instead subjects you to a protracted display of just how insane this man might possibly be. In Adam’s hands, these excessive, indulgent performance scenes take on disturbing but intriguing ambiguity, as you again wonder where the performance ends and the real man begins. When Henry confesses to a crime during his show and launces into an elaborate, passionate reenactment on stage, you shift uncomfortably in your seat wondering how much of it might just be true. Wondering just how much of an animal this man truly is.

Watching this film as an Adam fan, these scenes are unparalleled displays of his range and prowess. He’s in turns amusing and revolting; intolerable and pathetic; but always, always riveting. I couldn’t help thinking to myself that for the casual, non Adam-obsessed viewer, the effect of these scenes might stop at crass and unappealing. But in terms of the sheer range and power of acting on display? These scenes are a damn marvel. Through these scenes alone, his performance largely imbues the film with its wild, primal, and vaguely menacing atmosphere.

His stand-up scenes were, to me, some of the most intense of the film – sometimes downright difficult to endure. But they’re only a microcosm of the R A N G E he exhibits throughout the film’s entirety. Let’s talk about how he’s animalistic, menacing, and genuinely unsettling to watch (Leos Carax described him as “feline” at some point, and I 100% see it); and then with a mere subtle twitch of his expression, sheen of his eyes, or slump of his shoulders, he’s suddenly a lost, broken thing.

Henry McHenry is truly to be reviled. Twitter might as well spare their breath and announce he’s already cancelled. He towers above the rest of the cast with intimidating, predatory physicality; he is prone to indulgence in his vices; and he constantly seems at risk of releasing some wild, uncontrollable madness lingering just beneath his surface. But as we all well know, Adam has an unerring talent for lending pathos to even the most objectively condemnable characters.

In a repeated refrain during his first comedy show, the audience keeps asking him, “Why did you become a comedian?” He dodges the question or gives sarcastic answers, until finally circling back to the true answer later in the film. It was something to the effect of: “To disarm people. It’s the only way I can tell the truth without it killing me.” Even for all their sick spectacle, there are also moments in his stand-up shows of disarming vulnerability and (seeming) honesty. In a similar moment of personal exposition, he confesses his temptation and “sympathy for the abyss.” (This phrase is hands down my favorite of the film.) He repeatedly refers to his struggle against “the abyss” and, at the same time, his perceived helplessness against it. “There’s so little I can do, there’s so little I can do,” he sings repeatedly throughout the film - usually just after doing something horrific.

Had he been played by anyone else, the first full look of him warming up before his show - hopping in place and punching the air like some wannabe boxer, interspersing puffs of his cigarette with chowing down on a banana – would have been enough for me to swear him off. His archetype is something of a cliché at this point – a brusque, boorish man who can’t stomach or preserve the love of others due to his own self-loathing. There were multiple points when it was only Adam’s face beneath the character that kept my heart cracked open to him. But sure enough, he wedged his fingers into that tiny crack and pried it wide open. The film’s final few scenes show him at his chin-wobbling best as he crumbles apart in small, mournful subtleties.

(General, semi-spoiler ahead as to the tone of the film’s ending – skip this paragraph if you’d rather avoid.) For a film that professes not to take itself very seriously (how else am I supposed to interpret the freaky puppet baby?), it delivers a harsh, unforgiving ending to its main character. And sure enough, despite how much I might have wanted to distance myself and believe it was only what he deserved, I found myself right there with him, sharing his pain. It is solely testament to Adam’s tireless dedication to breathing both gritty realism and stubborn beauty into his characters that Henry sank a hook into some piece of my sympathy.

Not only does Adam have to be the only actor capable of imbuing Henry with humanity despite his manifold wrongs, he also has to be the only actor capable of the wide-ranging transformations demanded of the role. He starts the movie with long hair and his full refrigerator brick house physique. His physicality and size are actively leveraged to engender a sense of disquiet and unpredictability through his presence. He appears in turns tormented and tormentor. There were moments when I found myself thinking of Conan the Barbarian, simply because his physical presence radiates such wild, primal energy (especially next to tiny, dainty Marion and especially with that long hair). Cannot emphasize enough: The raw sex appeal is off the goddamn charts and had me – a veteran fangirl of 3+ years - shook to my damn core.

The film’s progression then ages him – his hair cut shorter and his face and physique gradually becoming more gaunt. By the film’s end, he has facial prosthetics to make him seem even more stark and borderline sickly – a mirror of his growing internal torment. From a muscular, swaggering powerhouse, he pales and shrinks to a shell of a man, unraveling as his face becomes nearly deformed by time and guilt. He is in turns beautiful and grotesque; sensual and repulsive. I know of no other actor whose face (and its accompanying capacity for expressiveness) could lend itself to such stunning versatility.

Quick note here that he was given a reddish-brown birthmark on the right side of his face for this film?? It becomes more prominent once his hair is shorter in the film’s second half. I’m guessing it was Leos’ idea to make his face even more distinctive and riveting? If so, joke’s on you, Mr. Carax, because we’re always riveted. ☺

I mentioned way up at the beginning that the film is bookended by two scenes where the lines blur between actor and character, and between reality and performance. This comes full circle at the film’s end, with Henry’s final spoken words (this doesn’t give any plot away but skip to the next paragraph if you would rather avoid!) being “Stop watching me.” That’s it. The show is over. He has told his last joke, played out his final act, and now he’s done living his life as a source of cheap, unprincipled laughs and thrills for spectators. The curtain closes with a resounding silence.

Now, I definitely won’t have a section where I talk (of course) about the Ben Solo parallels. He’s haunted by an “abyss” aka darkness inside of him? Bad things happened when he finally gave in and stared into that darkness he knew lived within him? As a result of those tragedies, (SPOILER – Skip to next paragraph to avoid) he then finds himself alone and with no one to love or be loved by? NO I’M DEFINITELY NOT GOING TO TALK ABOUT IT AT ALL, I’M JUST FINE HERE UNDER MY MOUNTAINS OF TISSUES.

Let’s talk about the music! The film definitely clocks in closer to a rock opera than musical, because almost the entire thing is conveyed through ongoing song, rather than self-contained musical numbers appearing here and there. This actually helps the film’s continuity and pacing, by keeping the characters perpetually in this suspended state of absurdity, always propelled along by some beat or melody. Whenever the film seems on the precipice of tipping all the way into the bleak and dark, the next whimsical tune kicks in to reel us all blessedly back. For example, after (SPOILER #1) happens, there’s a hard cut to the bright police station where several officers gather around Henry, bopping about and chattering on the beat “Questions! We have a few questions!”

Adam integrates his singing into his performance in such a way that it seems organic. I realized after the film that I never consciously considered the quality of his singing along the way. For all that I talked about the film maintaining the atmosphere of a fourth wall-defying performance piece, Adam’s singing is so fully immersed in the embodiment of his character that you almost forget he’s singing. Rather, this is simply how Henry McHenry exists. His stand-up scenes are the only ones in the film that do frequently transition back and forth between speaking and singing, but it’s seamlessly par for the course in Henry’s bizarre, dour show. He breaks into his standard “Now laugh!” number with uninterrupted sarcasm and contempt. There were certainly a few soft, poignant moments when his voice warbled in a tender vibrato you couldn’t help noticing – but otherwise, the singing was simply an extension of that full-body persona he manages to convey with such apparent ease and naturalism.

On the music itself: I’ll admit that the brief clip of “We Love Each Other So Much” we got a few weeks ago made me a tad nervous. It seemed so cheesy and ridiculous? But okay, you really can’t take anything from this movie out of context. Otherwise it is, indeed, utterly ridiculous. Not that none of it is ever ridiculous in context either, but I’m giving you assurances right now that it WORKS. Once you’re in the flow of constant singing and weirdness abound, the songs sweep you right along. Some of the songs lack a distinctive hook or melody and are moreso rhythmic vehicles for storytelling, but it’s now a day later and I still have three of the songs circulating pleasantly in my head. “We Love Each Other So Much” was actually the stand out for me and is now my favorite of the soundtrack. It’s reprised a few times later in the film, growing increasingly melancholy each time it is echoed, and it hits your heart a bit harder each time. The final song sung during (SPOILER #2), though without a distinctive melody to lodge in my head, undoubtedly left me far more moved than a spoken version of this scene would have. Adam’s singing is so painfully desperate and earnest here, and he takes the medium fully under his command.

Finally, it does have to be said that parts of this film veer fully towards the ridiculous and laughable. The initial baby version of the Annette puppet-doll was nothing short of horrifying to me. Annette gets more center-stage screen time in the film’s second half, which gives itself over to a few special effects sequences which look to be flying out at you straight from 2000 Windows Movie Maker. The scariest part is that it all seems intentional. The quality special effects appear when necessary (along with some unusual and captivating time lapse shots), which means the film’s most outrageous moments are fully in line with its guiding spirit. Its extravagant self-indulgence nearly borders on camp.

...And with that, I’ve covered the majority of the frantic notes I took for further reflection immediately after viewing. It’s now been a few days, and I’m looking forward to rewatching this movie when I can hopefully take it in a bit more fully. This time, I won’t just be struggling to keep up with the madness on screen. My concluding thoughts at this point: Is it my favorite Adam movie? Certainly not. Is it the most unforgettable? Aside from my holy text, The Last Jedi, likely yes. It really is the sort of thing you have to see twice to even believe it. And all in all, I say again that Adam truly carried this movie, and he fully inhabits even its highest, most ludicrous aspirations. He’s downright abhorrent in this film, and that’s exactly what makes him such a fucking legend.

I plan to make a separate post in the coming days about my experience at Cannes and the Annette red carpet, since a few people have asked! I can’t even express how damn good it feels to be globetrotting for Adam-related experiences again. <3

Thanks so much for reading! Feel free to ask me any further questions at all here or on Twitter! :)

*SYNOPSIS INCLUDED BELOW. DO NOT READ FURTHER IF AVOIDING SPOILERS!*

Synopsis: Comedian Henry McHenry and opera singer Ann Defrasnoux are both at the pinnacle of their respective success when they fall in love and marry. The marriage is happy and passionate for a time, leading to the birth of their (puppet) daughter, Annette. But tabloids and much of the world believe the crude, brutish Henry is a poor match for refined, idolized Ann. Ann and Henry themselves both begin to feel that something is amiss – Henry gradually losing his touch for his comedy craft, claiming that being in love is making him ill. He repeatedly and sardonically references how Ann’s opera career involves her “singing and dying” every night, to the point that he sees visions of her “dead” body on the stage. Meanwhile, Ann has a nightmare of multiple women accusing Henry of abusive and violent behavior towards them, and she begins growing wary in his presence. (He never acts abusively towards her, unless you count that scene when he tickles her feet and licks her toes while she’s telling him to stop??? Yeah I know, WILD.)

The growing sense of unease, that they’re both teetering on the brink of disaster, culminates in the most deranged of Henry’s stand-up comedy performances, when he gives a vivid reenactment of killing his wife by “tickling her to death.” The performance is so maudlin and unsettling that you wonder whether he’s not making it up at all, and the audience strongly rebukes him. (This is the “What is your problem?!” scene with tiddies out. The full version includes Adam storming across the stage, furiously singing/yelling, “What the FUCK is your problem?!”) But when Henry arrives home that night, drunk and raucous, Ann and Annette are both unharmed.

The couple take a trip on their boat, bringing Annette with them. The boat gets caught in a storm, and Henry drunkenly insists that he and Ann waltz in the storm. She protests that it’s too dangerous and begs him to see sense. (SPOILER #1) The boat lurches when Henry spins her, and Ann falls overboard to her death. Henry rescues Annette from the sinking boat and rows them both to shore. He promptly falls unconscious, and a ghost of Ann appears, proclaiming her intention to haunt Henry through Annette. Annette (still a toddler at this point and yes, still a wooden puppet) then develops a miraculous gift for singing, and Henry decides to take her on tour with performances around the world. He enlists the help of his “conductor friend,” who had been Ann’s accompanist and secretly had an affair with her before she met Henry.

Henry slides further into drunken debauchery as the tour progresses, while the Conductor looks after Annette and the two grow close. Once the tour concludes, the Conductor suggests to Henry that Annette might be his own daughter – revealing his prior affair with Ann. Terrified by the idea of anyone finding out and the possibility of losing his daughter, Henry drowns the Conductor in the pool behind his and Ann’s house. Annette sees the whole thing happen from her bedroom window.

Henry plans one last show for Annette, to be held in a massive stadium at the equivalent of the Super Bowl. But when Annette takes the stage, she refuses to sing. Instead, she speaks and accuses Henry of murder. (“Daddy kills people,” are the actual words – not that that was creepy to hear as this puppet’s first spoken words or anything.)

Henry stands trial, during which he sees an apparition of Ann from when they first met. They sing their regret that they can’t return to the happiness they once shared, until the apparition is replaced by Ann’s vengeful spirit, who promises to haunt Henry in prison. After his sentencing (it’s not clear what the sentence was, but Henry definitely isn’t going free), Annette is brought to see him once in prison. Speaking fully for the first time, she declares she can’t forgive her parents for using her: Henry for exploiting her voice for profit and Ann for presumably using her to take vengeance on Henry. (Yes, this is why she was an inanimate doll moving on strings up to this point – there was some meaning in that strange, strange artistic choice. She was the puppet of her parents’ respective egotisms.) The puppet of Annette is abruptly replaced by a real girl in this scene, finally enabling two-sided interaction and a long-missed genuine connection between her and Henry, which made this quite the emotional catharsis. (SPOILER #2) It concludes with Annette still unwilling to forgive or forget what her parents have done, and swearing never to sing again. She says Henry now has “no one to love.” He appeals, “Can’t I love you, Annette?” She replies, “No, not really.” Henry embraces her one last time before a guard takes her away and Henry is left alone.

…..Yes, that is the end. It left me with major emotional whiplash, after the whole film up to this point kept pulling itself back from the total bleak and dark by starting up a new toe-tapping, mildly silly tune every few minutes. But this last scene instead ends on a brutal note of harsh, unforgiving silence.

BUT! Make sure you stick around through the credits, when you see the cast walking through a forest together. (This is counterpart to the film’s opening, when you see the cast walking through LA singing “So May We Start?” directly to the audience) Definitely pay attention to catch Adam chasing/playing with the little girl actress who plays Annette! That imparts a much nicer feeling to leave the theater with. :’)

#Adam Driver #Annette #Cannes 2021 #driverdaily #Annette spoilers

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anasticep · 4 years ago

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Why Julie and the Phantoms is a masterpiece of a show. Part 2. Heroes and Villains or Let that foil shine

NOTE: Thanks again for your kind response to Part 1. I never expected that. It being my first tumblr post and a first meta in quite a long time I was blown away. I read all the tags, some were really hilarious. About having more than one brain cell xDDD I laughed so hard. It means a lot.

NOTE2: Please remember that the gifs are made by me, so don't crop, edit or give as yours.

Part 1.

Before diving into meta, I have to mention that the Villain of the story is actually one of the best in the decade. He’s cool, evil from the start, we understand his motives and we certainly are not supposed to love and make excuses for him. The writers made sure of that. So back to the main topic.

A foil is a character who contrasts with another character; typically, a character who contrasts with the protagonist, in order to better highlight or differentiate certain qualities of the protagonist

Foils in literature are not necessarily antagonists. A friend can be a foil or sometimes even a thing, a song. Whatever can make a good and real contrast to the protagonist. But it’s not very simple to use this author’s device and not fall down a deep hole. Because you have to make sure you did just the right amount of work to make it understandable for a reader, the things you want to contrast are definitely there and still you don't waste a character. On TV it can be even harder given limited air time. And, well, I don’t come across this device being used in full very often nowadays. It’s usually good and evil fighting for the plot. That’s why I personally appreciate JaTP so much.

Caleb is clearly a foil to Luke. As much as I’d love to say that Julie also has one, that’s not entirely true, at least not this season. Carrie is not her foil though it may seem so, and I really think that’s cool as Julie’s journey is being presented through her own demons and I'm going to cover that next. That being said, of course Caleb doubles as an antagonist plotwise, but I personally consider him being written more as a contract to Luke so we could see and appreciate his character and journey better.

1. Origins

Caleb and Luke have extremely similar backgrounds. They are both natural performers. They know how to deliver, because c’mon, “Now or Never” is something and so is “The other side of Hollywood”. Stage is their natural habitat, their element, power. Although they channel this power from completely different places.

Let’s start with our little ball of energy. It’s emphasized TWICE that he doesn’t care about the money aka the physical side of art.

All Luke wants is to make music. Connect with people. He is so happy just to be heard despite him loving to perform. Making music is what makes him feel alive and basically that’s enough. I think if there was no “hologram” magic at all, Luke would have still been extremely happy to make music with and for Julie. Because that’s the way he is.

But Caleb doesn’t know that. He knows, and I’m standing by that, right away that Luke is the one to aim at. Because we always feel the similarity in people. If Luke said yes, Reggie and Alex would have followed. So Caleb recognizes the passion and shoots at them what he thinks is appealing. And, oh boy, he delivers.

“The Other Side of Hollywood” is a perfect song to emphasize Luke and Caleb being foils for each other. Follow me here:

But these lines come from very different places. For Caleb the only thing that matters is himself. He owns the show, he IS the show. It’s about being famous, drowning in applause, admiration. Look at how he performs. Confident, yes, but still very much in control. He must keep his perfect face. No flaws, no real emotions, no real connection (Did you miss ME? I did too // This band is back). Whereas Luke is simply living the best time of his life each time he performs. Is it just jamming? Bring it on. Doing fun riffs? He’s all for it. He doesn’t care how he looks (though who could deny gorgeous sweaty Luke), he owns the show just because he is a natural.

So back to the business. Caleb immediately puts the boys in his own shoes:

On the other side we live like kings // Your soulprint on the walk of fame on the boulevard of your wildest dreams // I got your glamour, got your gold, got all you’ll ever need

And, I mean, he is not that wrong. You can see the appeal on the boys’ faces. They are young, passionate, handsome, talented musicians. Of course they wouldn’t deny fame. Of course they would want all that to some extent. And Caleb is very sure he pulled the right strings.

Watch me make a move, I’m your number one choice

Also I have to mention, as we are talking about TOSOH (IKEA name again) and it being a foil for Luke, thy lyrics still don’t forget about what is important for Reggie and Alex (we’ll talk about that just a bit later):

Welcome to the brotherhood -> Reggie

Where you won’t be misunderstood -> Alex

Then again, lots of foreshadowing in the song, if you listen carefully the lyrics are stressing the true colors of the offer:

A tomb with a view

Man, what a metaphor. I would have run out of there the minute I heard this line. But our boys share one brain cell (I can’t get over how funny this is) and it’s currently taken by Julie, so I don’t blame them.

Disappointment is huge. Caleb read it all wrong. So we are moving to the next point in our Heroes and Villains essay.

2. Recruitment

It’s very cool that Caleb offers the boys to join his band right after Luke offers Julie to join Sunset Curve. They both are going out of their ways to get that (although have different budgets apparently. But look, they live in a garage). Luke made a hit with a bunch of Julie’s not very well structured lines (I love Flying Solo with all my heart as a song, but as a poem it just looks weird to me) to impress her, and we all saw the show Caleb had thrown to impress the boys. Plus food. And fancy dancing. But here is where contrast comes again.

Caleb offers to join the band, yes, but only as backup singers. It’s his show, remember? It’s only about him. He doesn’t care if they are even good. He wants their magic under control.

Share the spotlight with ME / How do you like MY new band?!

Luke offering Julie a spot in the band is a completely different story. He saw what she is capable of. He instantly knows she must be the key to a new sound, a new level. And he, a natural performer, frontman, lead guitarist, steps back and gives the spotlight to Julie. To think about it, he could have just got her magic under control by giving her simple lines, incorporating piano in the songs and that’s all. They would be visible, he would still be a center of attention, and Julie herself wouldn't mind that much. But that’s not who Luke is. Yes, there is a funny scene of “Hey, I’m your lead singer” and “you don’t have to be mean”, but it’s just messing around. Because right after that he finishes Flying Solo, writes several other songs with Julie, seeks her approval of Sunset Curve songs and basically follows her around like an adorable excited puppy.

Moving on and back to the rejection. Again the writers are mirroring them. Julie quits the band & the boys decline the offer. What does Luke do? Well, he tries the way he knows: books a gig, makes Reggie and Alex sing in perfect harmonies and does his puppy eyes thing. And it doesn’t work. And Luke goes to reflect and then probably try to come up with a plan. But something tells me he would not have haunted Julie until she joined them.

What does Caleb do after the initial rejection? Puts a cursed stamp that leaves them no choice but to join HGC. You don’t need to say more.

But in fact the more I think about it, the more I suspect Caleb also not possessing enough mental capacity for a human being. Like, if it wasn’t for Willie, how would they even know? Has Caleb planned to simply show up one day and casually explain? Look, foils in everything.

“You’re in a tough spot… So, you wanna join the band?” | “Looked like it hurt… you know where to find me”

But we sidestepped a bit.

3. Pulling the strings

After the song Caleb comes out to consolidate his success. What he does is clever and, btw, that’s the only time he becomes Julie’s foil. They are stating basically the same thing.

Again, Julie is concerned about the band and the boys, while Caleb is only concerned about having them under control. But they both are pulling basically the right strings.

What is interesting, Caleb actually impressed the wrong person (and that person is our sweet Reggie). Luke follows the string Julie pulled. Although the offer is tempting, he insists twice that they are in a band already directly to Caleb and then in Eats&Beats he says "It's like Julie said, we have a new band, a new sound». No matter what Caleb promised, Luke is not affected at all although Caleb’s offer is a very-very safe choice.

Speaking about using friends as foils, Alex and Reggie also serve as contrast characters for Luke at some points. Luke’s indifference to money is first stressed through Alex who is clearly the chief accountant for the band. His lines about not getting tips, living in a garage and «it’s a little bit about the money» are waved aside by Luke. Reggie is clearly the most affected by the whole Bobbie thing. His lines «I don’t care what Julie said, I’m glad we scared Bobbie», «So we’re gonna forget about getting back at Trevor?» are getting a clear contrast by Luke’s «It’s what Julie said, we have a new band, a new sound» and «He has to live with that guilt».

While editing the article I realised a very cool thing I haven't noticed before. How badly Luke wants to go on tour. And again that's another thing Caleb offers as if reading his mind. That's actually brilliant, to think about it.

Caleb is a VERY good reader. He tests the waters with a speech about disappearing from stage and going around the world and all dreams coming true. Still he doesn’t know the boys and especially Luke, so his phrase “no real connection” doesn’t register that much.

But he learns. Remember the lines I’ve marked before?

Reggie is afraid they will not be together after they cross over. He is in desperate need of a family. So wouldn’t it be nice to spend the rest of your afterlife with your brothers? (Reggie's main insecurity is loneliness, feel of a broken family. That's why he is the most concerned about crossing over. Will his family stay intact?)

Alex is insecure, and not being understood by the people closest to him will always hit hard. So welcome to a place where you won’t be misunderstood. And actually we know there is a guy you like and find comfort in. (Alex's insecurity is growing up in times when he could not truly be himself even with his family and for sure not believing he would ever be able to find someone meant just for him)

That mirrors the whole Luke’s beach speech perfectly. Only comparing them we can truly appreciate why Luke is the leader. He shuts down his own demons to make Alex and Reggie remember that they are not alone (“and I believe in you”. sorry. Olicity fan).

Caleb makes them suffer to get what he wants. But this time he is careful with the words aimed at Luke. Yes, he repeats his words about vanishing and applauses BUT he makes sure that his words about CONNECTION are the key words for Luke. Intense look, calming voice, touching - these are all elements of hypnosis. And Luke is in a daze. (Continuing the parents' thing, for Luke the main insecurity is not managing to connect with his mom. Maybe that's such a big thing for him: through all these people he wanted to find that connection with her)

4. The Hero’s journey

That’s the best part actually but I won’t be saying anything new or that you don’t know. Luke is made of lyrics and music. That’s his soul, heart, that’s the feeling running through his veins. He doesn’t need anything other than that in his life. Playing for eternity is “a gift no musician would ever turn down”. But he actually does turn it down. As well as his dream to go see the world with his band (is there covid in jatp universe?). He is the one who resists the hardest to the pull. Luke, who always has a guitar in his hands, doesn't want to play. Because it’s not only about the music now. He has this amazing girl in his afterlife who was willing to accept them for who they were, helped Luke battle his own demons, eased his pain and made him open up. And it doesn’t make sense any longer without her anymore. “And you’re a part of me now till eternity”.

Caleb, being Luke’s foil, completely misses the whole point of connection. It’s not in his nature. His house band are just recruits (Just so happens you’re in luck we’ve got a vacancy). For Luke his band is his family (We are the only family we ever gonna need). The Connection theme is one of the main in the show. And it’s so cool to show it focused through Luke whose best way of interaction is a touch. But not being able to touch Julie Luke has to find other ways, although it’s not that simple for him. And Julie backs that up: We connect in so many other ways. They literally touched each other's souls. Without knowing she put a stamp of her own on Luke, Alex and Reggie. They’ve never felt loved enough, appreciated enough, supported enough. They’ve only had each other. And Julie’s stamp is love. And for Luke (as well as Reggie and Alex) from now on this girl is worth dying for all over again.

_______

So yeah. I hope you enjoyed it, as I for sure enjoyed writing. There is gonna be a part 3 about Julie and a few honorable mentions of parallels of the Pilot and the Finale (I hope at least to do all that). I’ve also figured very very cool connections in the songs and I can’t wait to share.

Also as I was heavily speaking about The Other side of Hollywood, @catty-words has a wonderful meta on rain metaphors here (sorry for tagging, if you don't want to be tagged), check it out if you somehow missed it. It's super clever.

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #julie molina #luke patterson #reggie peters #alex mercer #jatp meta #jatp analysis #my gifs #my edits #don't crop #please be nice #caleb covington #ana's meta #am i smart? i am #having more brain cells then sunset curve

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cupidcreates · 4 years ago

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akdsfjkdksj I wasn’t expecting you to churn all this content out so quick (´∀｀)♡ omgosh you went above and beyond with the love language ask!! I love to see your interpretation of these characters so what do the cast consider the perfect date to be? low key vs high key? local vs out of town? -😌✨

Thank you! I’m glad you liked the love language post, sorry it took so long lol. As for their favorite dates I think I’ll do the same characters here:

Katsuki Bakugou

Rock Climbing/Hiking Dates

Canonically one of Katsuki’s favorite things to do is go rock climbing so he’d definitely want to bring a SO along every so often. If you’re an athletic person and enjoy being outdoors this will be a very fun date! If you’re not a very athletic person (as many of us aren’t) Katsuki will settle for just going for a short hike along a trail. Katsuki gets super talkative on hikes as well, as you’re walking he’ll just be talking about literally anything! From Hero work to his friends/family, to things that have been bothering him lately. Whatever is on his mind he’ll share with you while you’re both out, which is incredibly helpful as he doesn’t ever discuss his feelings at any other point in time. Plus it gives him a chance to show off how fit he is in front of you, which you both always consider a plus.

Izuku Midoriya

Movie Dates

A Classic, perhaps a little plain even, but Izuku absolutely loves to take you to the movies. He loves everything about the date, from discussing what you’re about to watch, to getting the snacks, to whispering in the back row (if you’re the type to get annoyed by talking during a movie he’ll keep this to a bare minimum). He loves being able to snuggle up next to you and hold your hand while discussing the finer points of the plot (If you’ll tolerate talking of course). Don’t think he’s being innocent here though, he definitely uses the darkness surrounding you as cover as he runs his hands up your thighs. Unbeknownst to most, Izuku is actually very much a horndog. He conceals it very well but he’s only barely capable of keeping his hands to himself when it comes to his SO. Any chance he gets to touch you he’ll take it, more than likely this is why his second favorite type of date is usually a stay-in date...

Shoto Todoroki

Dinner Dates

Another Classic, Shoto loves to treat his SO to expensive treats with his favorite being food-related dates at lavish restaurants. Not a week goes by that he doesn’t take you out on the town for the night at some place you’re sure you couldn’t even afford a glass of water at. It’s almost never the same place twice either, Shoto is actually a foodie and enjoys trying new types of cuisine whenever he can. He’s got a whole list of places he wants to take you, and if they require reservations he’s already got them locked down. If you love eating Shoto is your man, he’ll make sure you’re set with a wide variety of foods to choose from and always remembers any place you happen to be partial to.

Denki Kaminari

Amusement/Water Park Dates

Denki is a fun-loving guy through and through, he knows how to have a good time and wherever you happen to go he makes sure you do too. That being said, his absolute favorite place to take you is to an amusement or water park. It’s not often you two get to go, as you’re both very busy with your respective hero work most days, but when you do it’s a day-long affair. You’re there from the minute the park opens to the second it shuts down, riding as many rides as you can manage, eating greasy garbage food, and making sure to strike the dumbest poses for any rides that take pictures. You’ve got a whole scrapbook of these photos by now, their ridiculousness increasing with each new one added.

Eijirou Kirishima

Beach Dates

You wouldn’t expect Eijirou Kirishima to be a Thalassophile (Def. Person who loves the ocean) but he is. He adores being on the beach and it’s his preferred location for a date. You’ve spent many a sunny afternoon seaside with Eijirou, building sandcastles, chasing crabs, and just enjoying the ocean. One memorable afternoon you found yourselves right next to a sea turtles nest and you got to watch the babies pop out of the sand and scurry towards the ocean, assisted by Eijirou as he chased off the seagulls looking to make them a meal. Eijirou also enjoys surfing, and if you know how to do so he’ll get you matching boards so you can ride the waves together. If you’re not partial to surfing he’ll be sure to pull out all his tricks while you watch him, he’ll even let you onto his board with him so you two can just float together by the shore. Of course you two can’t go to the beach year round, but when you can you’re both sure to make the most of these sunny days, even if he does get an awful sunburn by the end of it.

Hitoshi Shinsou

Gaming Dates

Hitoshi isn’t what one would call ‘social’ when given the choice between going out for a night and staying home he’ll almost always choose the latter. So it’s expected that his favorite type of date is one where you two can stay inside and enjoy each others company. You both work so hard as Heros, why not spend your days off relaxing with one another? He can spend hours alone with you, preferably kicking your ass at Mario Party or some other multiplayer game. He doesn’t need anything except you, his consoles, and a pile of your favorite snacks to have a good time. That being said, if you want him to go out for a date the best way to convince him is to take him to some kind of arcade, especially if it’s a VR arcade. He feels a kind of nostalgic joy for these places and won’t hesitate to return and feel like a kid again. Plus it’s always nice to repeatedly prove to you that yes he is the champion of Dance Dance Revolution and you will never usurp this title from him.

Tamaki Amajiki

Park/Picnic Dates

As I’ve mentioned in a previous post, Tamaki loves spending time outdoors; surrounded by and in awe of nature and it’s complex inner workings. He enjoys just taking time to appreciate the world around him, so dates where you can both relax outside and enjoy each other’s company are his favorite kind. He has a specific hill at his favorite park he likes to take you, bringing a lunch of all your favorite foods he sets you both up under the biggest shade tree for an afternoon. You both lay back on your worn picnic blanket and just cloudgaze, talking for hours about anything and everything. Much like Bakugou, Tamaki gets very talkative on these dates, discussing his week with you and anything new he might have learned over the course of it. He’s so very endearing on these dates its easy to fall silent and just listen to him for hours.

Mirio Togata

Crafting Dates

Mirio likes to have memorabilia from your dates, so you can expect a lot of dates to center around making things. More than just your average painting classes Mirio has also taken you to sculpting, woodworking, and glass blowing classes to name a few. At the end of your dates you both exchange what you’ve made and Mirio absolutely adores anything you craft, regardless of its quality in your eyes. He puts his heart and soul into making you something and more often than not it turns out spectacularly. Mirio wasn’t as good with the ceramics class, but you love the warped vase he made (even if it was technically supposed to be a cup at the start, we’ve all been there). Mirio’s kept everything you made him and even has a shelf in his house just dedicated to what you’ve made, it makes him so happy to come home after a hard day of work and see physical memories of his time with you.

Keigo Takami

Aquarium/Zoo Dates

Underneath Keigo’s charming and charismatically upbeat personality lies a bitter and broken man, drained by his role in Hero Society and left an empty shell of his former self. Underneath that personality lies a kid who never got to have a proper childhood and desperately wants to make up for it. He now uses his dates with you to do just that; not that you mind of course, dates with Keigo are always fun and lighthearted and you love to see him truly enjoy himself for once. Keigo’s favorite places to go are definitely large and intricately designed Zoos and Aquariums. He loves to look at the painstakingly accurate and detailed natural habitats, make fun of the stranger animal names you find, and learn new information about foreign bird species. Loves to mimic their calls too, much to the irritation of the birds and the zoo employees. He makes it a point to always get you a stuffed animal at the end of the date, ensuring that you now have a massive collection of them sitting all around your room. You’re always kept up to date on any Zoo or Aquarium events thanks to Keigo, as he has a calendar dedicated to all the unique events they have going on throughout the year.

Touya Todoroki

Crash Dates

Dabi is...well he’s unpredictable at the best of times and it’s very rare that you two have time for anything even resembling a date (being an S class villain does make it hard to exist normally in society and do normal couple things but it ees what it ees). However, when he can take you one a date --well the term “date” is generous here- it’s never a dull one. You’re not sure how he does it but when you go out you always manage to end up somewhere Dabi could never get into naturally. From sold-out concerts, to stand up shows, to parties at lavish houses belonging to people you’ve never even heard of let alone met before; dates with Dabi are always somewhere you two definitely shouldn’t be. One memorable morning he took you to a country club where you got to each fancy exclusive rich people food and play a horrible facsimile of golf before you were eventually found and chased out. It’s always fun to see how long you two can crash an even before being found out.

Tomura Shigaraki

Cemetery/Haunted Places Dates

Tomura Shigaraki is a man who enjoys his space from other people, in his opinion the only good person is a dead one (unless he’s talking about you, of course). So it’s not abnormal for your dates to be in a place far away from others. Again the term “date” is being very generous, more often than not he’ll approach you, tell you to follow him, and you’ll wind up in some abandoned building or graveyard. Normally this would be cause for concern, as this is exactly what happens in horror movies before someone gets killed, but Tomura has a soft spot for you so your safety is ensured. Tomura loves to see a place reclaimed by nature, vines growing over a run down house or worn out gravestones breaking apart into chunks of marble with barely legible words on them. He doesn’t talk much on your dates, but will often give you a random bit of insight about him; like on one date where you both walked alongside abandoned train tracks at dusk and he told you about the dog he had as a child. He seeks no pity from you, and these dates are not the conventionally romantic type, but you enjoy being able to be with Tomura in a way no one else ever has or ever will.

#answered #mha #bnha #katsuki bakugo #izuku midoriya #shoto todoroki #hitoshi shinsou #denki kaminari #eijiro kirishima #tamaki amajiki #mirio togata #keigo takami #mha hawks #touya todoroki #dabi #tomura shigaraki #this took forever to finish I'm so sorry lol #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons

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greenninjagal-blog · 4 years ago

Text

Deja Vu pt 5

Heyyy guys! whos ready for 24 pages of hurt and comfort and then plot? If you’re new around you can find the first chapter [here] and if you need a refresher, the previous chapter is [here]!

Summary: Remus can see the future. Sometimes too much. Dee is there to pick up the pieces.

Word Count: 10283

TW: mentions of suicide in detail, temporary character death, blood,

Read on Ao3 || My general Writing masterlist

Its three AM and there’s something wrong.

Its three AM and he’s standing on the balcony of a hotel in a city he doesn’t remember the name of and he hasn’t slept in a day and a half. His head hurts, and his throat is dry, and he’s having a hard time keeping his hands from shaking.

The air smells, like smog and like grime and earth and rain, like something so familiar and worldly that he should be grounded in it and not just floating over everything. Any yet here he is, floating, drifting, hovering and haunting and utterly untouchable by anything.

The sky is heavy and hard and dark, grumbling and threatening with its load so much so that one couldn’t tell where one cloud started and another ended. It was reminiscent of the gritty asphalt of a highway, of black snow piled on the sides of the roads, of endless piles of ashes.

There’s something wrong.

With him.

Its the fourth floor, and the balcony framed by a blackmetal fence. A few doors down another guest has left a flag up for some sports team and it flaps in a breeze that one wouldn’t be able to feel on his arms. Actually he can’t feel his arms at all anymore. He can’t feel anything, anymore.

Down below there’s nothing but a parking lot: concrete sidewalks and empty vehicles and a couple lamps that bring just enough light that phantom people don’t trip over the sidewalk on their drowsie attempts to get inside before the skies crack open again. Its quiet.

Too quiet, he thinks. Like the whole world was holding its breath.

Its makes the sounds of sirens and broken glass and a car alarm screech in his head. His fingers curl around the railing, stiff and cold and white knuckled. He feels….mechanical, with his joints frozen solid and his breath so even he forgets its there. Like his body isn’t his own even though its the only one he’s ever known, and someone else is holding the controls. He’s stuck.

But he’s not really. He knows he’s not. At any point he can make a choice.

He just hasn’t yet. He’s holding his breath along with the world, with the sky, with the night and the shadows and the future.

And because he’s holding his breath, he’s stuck here, seeing, watching, feeling, thinking, floating.

--He stays, and its as easy as breathing, as lonely as it is too. The air is cool, the rain starts in thirty minutes, chilling to the touch and turning his body to stone. There’s nothing to watch, but he does it anyway: stare into the emptiness around him and forget everything he’s ever been. Time drip, drip, drips away and the sky is still crying and Dee is too when he finds him for some reason.---

--He stays, and its as hard as breathing, as lonely as it is too. The air is cool and the rain starts in thirty minutes but by that time he’s sitting on the railing with his legs between the rungs waiting for a whisper to knock him off. Time drip, drip, drips away, and the sky is still crying by the time Dee breaks down the door to his room in a frantic desperate frenzy--

--He leaves, turns, heads back inside without a fuss. There’s a complimentary water bottle on the desk and the remains of Wendy’s frosty that he never finished thats an accurate representation of what his insides look like. It's funny going down his throat, like drinking warm swamp water and tasting each tadpole egg as it goes down his throat. It makes him want to laugh, makes him want to feel something, makes him so tired and he shuffles over to the Queen sized bed and face plants into the torn and shredded comforter. He doesn’t sleep, can’t sleep, won’t sleep and his headache makes him wish the comforter suffocated him.--

Its three am.

--He leaves, turns, goes without even stopping to grab his room keycard. His head is sudsy, fuzzy, buzzy and the complementary lights make his eyes ache in a way beyond being physical. He avoids tripping on the fourth step on the staircase. The air feels like static, like his thoughts, like everything and anything and nothing at all. There’s no one outside, not at this hour, not in this section of the city when the sky is so finicky like this. There’s a 24hour diner, and he knows its there because he and Dee ate there earlier and the music was shit but it was louder than his thoughts right?

“Uh,” The waiter says, when he shows up. “We have a no shoes-no shirt- no service policy?” Like its a question. And its funny in a way that makes everything around him feel like cotton. He didn’t even realize he wasn’t wearing shoes.--

--He leaves, turns, goes without even stopping to grab his room keycard. His head is sudsy, fuzzy, buzzy and the complementary lights make his eyes ache in a way beyond being physical. He avoids tripping on the fourth step on the staircase. The air feels like static, like his thoughts, like everything and anything and nothing at all. He walks in a direction, any direction, this direction, that direction until he’s as lost as he feels and the sky cracks open and drowns him--

Its Three AM.

--He goes, slowly, lethargically, but determined. He collects his things, his memories, his presence, and stuffs them back in his travel bag and zips it shut with more force than is necessary. Shoes, shirt, jacket, soap. His head is sudsy, fuzzy, buzzy and the complementary lights make his eyes ache in a way beyond being physical. He avoids tripping on the fourth step on the staircase. The air feels like static, like his thoughts, like everything and anything and nothing at all. He stops, stands, breathes like his lungs are on fire and he has so many regrets but nothing hurts more than when he thinks about how Dee is gonna hate him when he wakes up in a few hours and finds himself all alone again--

--He goes, quickly, chaotically, but reluctantly. He collects his things, his mistakes, his presence, and stuffs them in his bag zipping it closed. Shoes, shirt, key card. His head is sudsy, fuzzy, buzzy and the complementary lights make his eyes ache in a way beyond being physical. He stops outside the door across the hall and he’s just enough of an asshole to unball his jacket and gently hook it over the door handle for Dee to find in the morning and hate him for. The air feels like static, and its buzzes under his skin breaking through the numbness as he walks to that stupid 24 hour bus station and disappears forev--

--He goes, quickly, chaotically, but reluctantly. He collects his things, his mistakes, his presence, and stuffs them in his bag zipping it closed. Shoes, shirt, jacket, soap. His head is sudsy, fuzzy, buzzy and the complementary lights make his eyes ache in a way beyond being physical. He stops outside the door across the hall and before he knows what he’s doing his knuckles are rapping on the wood so hard, so loudly, so desperately that he can feel the shockwaves all the way to his elbow.

Dee opens the door, looking disgruntled and like he just woke up (he did, he has, he will) but not upset and really thats all he needs to see isn’t it? He doesn’t really think because the second that the door is open far enough, he’s launching himself into Dee’s arms and they both stumble backwards into the room. Dee should tell him to get lost because its too early to be anything other than insane but he doesn’t and then his lips are colliding with any part of Dee he can get to and--

ITS THREE AM.

--He throws his head back and scREAMS. As loudly as he can, as long as he can, as much as he can until he can’t breathe, until the silence of the morning shatters like the glass facade it is, until the echoes of his voice are ringing in his ears and he can’t possibly hope to hear anything else. Until the lights of the surrounding buildings flicker on and the other visitors are frantically looking out to find the source and the banging on his door matches timing with the pounding in his own brain. He screams until he can’t anymore because he’s too busy laughing.--

--The TV is on and then its not because his fist is going through the screen in a mess of blood and knuckles and laughter--

--His bag is in his hands and then its not because he’s throwing it over the railing to see if it sets off the car alarms when it smashes the windshield of the car on the street.--

--He’s on the railing, balancing like a tightrope walker and then he’s not because he bent his knees and jum--

Its strange, He thinks, watching his crumpled body dent the front of an SUV and feeling each shard of the windshield going through his spine and flesh and setting off all the fun dazzling alarms that can be set off.

Its strange because this is not the first time he’s seen his life snuffed out. Its not even the hundredth time. Tonight alone he’s seen his body go into a freefall at least three hundred times.

Its strange, he thinks, its weird. Its three AM and there’s something wrong with him.

It takes a whole minute for the receptionist running the front desk to come running out of the building because she hadn’t been looking and the car alarm was the first thing that warned her anything was wrong. It takes thirty seconds for someone else to react to her screaming. Another minute for someone to open out their doors and come running to her aid. At three minutes, there’s a man standing over his body, yelling.

Then the vision cuts off because he can only see three minutes after his death and not a millisecond more.

He’s stuck watching again and again.

A million possible futures, a billion different endings, a trillion things that could be tweaked ever-so-slightly that change the outcomes, and he can see them all. It doesn’t make sense-- shouldn’t if he thinks too much about it. Because time should be passing while he stands here watching his death, but instead the whole world halts while he flickers in and out of reality and he can’t-- won’t-- isn’t--

There’s no what ifs. There’s the facts: this will happen when he jumps, when he falls, when he dies, when he goes back to bed, when he runs away.

Something warm hits his hand, practically igniting his whole arm. Suddenly he snaps out of the loop, blinking three times and the world returns to him as the present moment. He blinks slowly looking down at his hand where the shadow of a dark liquid is splattered just below his index finger knuckle, rolling over the side of his hand, and pooling on the flat of the railing he was gripping. Laughter rumbles in his chest, crawling up his throat like a hundred beetles trying to find their ways out by any means possible.

His legs buckle and his knees hit the concrete at the same time his giggles start exploding between his lips into the silent morning. He clings to the railing and presses his forehead into the slim bars, as his chest heaves for oxygen that doesn’t quite taste right. He gulps in so much he can’t imagine why he feels lightheaded, his mouth tastes like blood, and his palms itch where the cold metal is cutting to the flesh.

He’s twenty one, richer than he ever dreamed of being, and there is something wrong with him.

Why is there something wrong with him?

Dee doesn’t have this problem. Dee changes into other people, animals, hybrids all the time; how come he doesn’t get stuck? Why doesn’t he wander around with a head full of golden curls and horns? Why don’t his legs morph into a fishtail without warning sometimes? Why doesn’t Dee wake up in a fit because he can't remember who he is or who he’s pretending to be?

Why is he the only one who can’t get a grip on himself as he floats in the air like the coming rain and then goes crashing to the street below again and again and again?

Why can’t--

Why--

Why is there always blood trailing down his face? Why does his head hurt so much and why does his mouth taste so bad? Why is he stuck staring at the congealed blobs on the concrete underneath him and why does he feel so numb about it? Why can’t he just--

-- The windshield shatters underneath him, his head slams against the roof, so hard everything bends and breaks and his soul is forcibly ejected from his body and that alarm screeches into the sky and the girl at the front desk comes running out, screams, and then the guy is over him, yelling nonsense and climbing on the hood with him, reaching out, fingers pressing against his non existent pul--

Its so annoying. He knows it's annoying. He’s annoying.

His skin prickles and itches with phantom glass shards. And his eyes ache and burn in a way that makes them water and screw themselves closed. And his head pounds and drums to a rock concert that outplays the thunder overhead.

He’s stuck, on the fourth floor balcony, with his forehead pressed to the railing, with his mind floating in the nothingness, the everythingness, the possibilities and the emptiness. He’s lost, losing himself, free falling and smashing into the hood of the car again.

And its three AM still, forever and never and he wants it to stop being three AM and wants to stop feeling his spine snap like a toothpick.

But that means he has to move and change things and make a decision.

And he shouldn’t be scared of this, shouldn’t be worried, shouldn’t want to cry just because he needs to make a choice. Everyone makes choices, everyday, without even thinking about what they could be affecting. Who they could be affecting.

And most of the time those choices don’t mean anything at all. What kind of cereal do you want to eat? What music do you listen to? How many alarms do you sleep through? In the end it doesn’t matter. How can it?

Everyone dies after all.

-- car alarm screeches into the air, stealing all the peace and quiet and the isolation from the night. The girl at the front desk comes running out, tripping over the curb when she sees exactly what landed on the hood of the car and her scream is so fucking funny he wants to laugh but he twisted a little in the air and now there’s glass shards cutting open his lungs and filling them with blood and his vision is all blurry, cutting out faster than before, but slower than that time he fell purposely head first and isn’t it weird how he calls it “falling” as if he didn’t bend at the knee and--

Everyone dies.

So why does he still care so much? Why does it still hurt to think about Silver Sedans and why cant he glance at snow globes without remembering how easy they are to swing down on someone’s unsuspecting skull? Why does he still think about doctors and therapy and wonder why it hadn't worked before?

Everyone dies.

And yet he cant breathe when he thinks about casino cash boxes in the middle of crowds, about jewelry store doors being blown open, about children who think "super power" and "can do no wrong" are synonymous. He cant breathe when he thinks about all the meanings of the term "suddenly", about how quick and fast things can happen, about how differently things could have gone.

Did it make a difference?

Was it the right one?

Or was it supposed to be that Roman, for all his liveliness, for all his popularity, for all his basking in attention and the terrible life lessons he had taken upon himself to teach his brother-- was it supposed to be that Roman should have died 13 years ago to a reckless teenage driver in a silver sedan? That Dee should have died several endless months ago stealing a cash box he couldn't have kept? That one day soon a man named Logan will find his life suddenly stolen by a misstep on a rainy afternoon?

Was he supposed to be changing things? Or was he supposed to have merely watched, observed, accepted?

What if there were choices and because he made the wrong ones, he is falling, falling, falling, splat, now?

Everyone dies.

-- girl at the front desk comes running out, tripping over the curb when she sees exactly what landed on the hood of the car and her scream is so fucking funny he wants to laugh but he twisted a little in the air and now there’s glass shards cutting open his lungs and filling them with blood and his vision is all blurry--

Is this how he's supposed to go?

Its Three AM and time doesn’t move but somehow he finds himself lying on the balcony twisted up in knots and drooling blood from the back of his itchy, burning throat. He’s on the cement balcony; he’s on the hood of a car. His fingers are wrapped around the railing like he thought it could anchor him in the middle of a hurricane; His arm is twisted and broken up in seven different ways and there are shards of glass in his shoulder cutting off the nerves. Its raining soft and sweet and gentle; he’s crying because this is not how he wants to go, please don’t make him go like this, he doesn’t want to leave--

He’s alive and breathing through undamaged lungs; He’s dead and Roman is twelve minutes older than him because his vision is black and the front desk girl is screaming again.

The thunder rumbles. He feels it in the air when every molecule in Earth's atmosphere vibrates and in the ground when every raindrop splatters into nothingness. He can feel the rain pouring over his body, plastering his thin shirt to his heavy limbs, caressing his face to the point where he can't tell the difference between it and the from blood in his hair--

--twisted a little in the air and now there’s glass shards cutting open his lungs and filling them with blood and his vision is all blurry, cutting out faster--

He's on the ground splayed out like a massacre. A hot mess, except he's so cold and empty and everything hurts.

When was the last time he slept?

His head aches, his eyes feel so heavy, and there’s something twisting in his chest: something wriggling and heavy that’s not the glass tearing through his muscles, but just as real as it. He thinks it's terror. But how can he be scared when this is what's supposed to be happening?

Unless it's not. In that case he should be more than just a little scared. He should be frightened, horrified, aghast. His limbs shouldn’t feel like lead weights dragging him down because there should be adrenaline, right? He should be so desperate to change this fate that he launches himself--

--the guy is over him, yelling nonsense and climbing on the hood with him, reaching out, fingers pressing against his non existent pulse and he almost wants to curl into the touch but he’s dead and his vision is black and there’s nothing left--

--back into the hotel room, tripping over the sliding door base and stumbling his way into the carpet. He should be so full of nerves and that his hands are shaking, that he can’t imagine being alone, that he throws himself out the door and across the hall to the safety that is Dee’s always welcoming arms.

Because Dee is safe. And warm. And Dee’s….Dee’s…

They’ve been running around for months now, amassing a fortune larger than they can just carry around, enough to buy the moon from the sky if they wanted it, enough for them to not need to have two separate rooms at all.

But if they share a room, he knows what will happen. What should happen. He knows the only reason Dee doesn’t know about everything, about his hatred of the color red, about why he won’t get near a silver sedan, about why he needed to make that phone call just to hear that his mother had completely forgotten him again-- the only reason why Dee doesn’t know is because he hasn’t asked yet.

Is it a mercy? Or a threat?

Can it be both?

Is it supposed to be both?

He can’t keep a secret. Not for the life --cutting open his lungs and filling th-- the life of him. Not from Dee. Because he’s seen a billion deaths that could have happened, he’s seen a hundred different realities and drowned in all of them.

Because he’s tasted asphalt under the tires of cars on a highway, felt the wind caress him off the top of skyscrapers, fallen asleep in a bathtub of blood in a hotel room. Because he’d died so many times before he ever reached Twenty One and no one cared.

But suddenly Dee had shown up and he kisses like he knows time is limited here on this Earth, in a way that he’s never been able to convince anyone else. Not Roman who sang and danced to everyone else’s tune, not his mother who tried to fix him and then forgot him when that got too improbable, not his dad who stayed silent when he should have been anything else, not the kids at school, not his teachers, not his doctors.

Dee had shown up believing in him and that meant something. He didn’t want it to mean nothing in the end. He didn’t want it to end.

Not like this.

Please, not like this. Please, please, please, pleasepleaseplease--

“REMUS!”

Its not Three AM but Remus is staring at the pouring rain in the sky wondering what the fucking hell just happened to him.

He’s wet and not in a fun way. His head rings. The air is lighter, the morning later, and his limbs are trembling from being outside in the middle of a fucking thunderstorm. His clothes stick to him like a second skin, and Remus does not like the implications of that at all.

He blinks, once, twice, thrice, and his lungs struggle to gain anything worth keeping. Everything in him is screaming for his attention, making him writhe with the sudden influx of stimuli. His fingers and toes are freezing, his stomach is aching, his head pounds and his thoughts feel like the inside of his brain is coated with molasses or some shit that makes him so slow to register anything around him.

The touch is burning. Remus at once needs it like he needs oxygen and needs it gone because its boiling him alive from the inside out. He wants to scream, but the most he can get is a pathetic little whimper.

“Remus, what the fuck,” Dee says so unelquently that Remus is pretty sure he’s crying.

That makes two of them.

“I don’t--” Remus clings to Dee, because he’s real and solid, and Remus’s throat is coated in blood from a swan dive he didn’t take. “I don’t, I don’t, please--”

The balcony is slick with blood and rain, mixing so freely Remus has a hard time looking at it. Dee helps him move, slowly, because everything makes him dizzy. Water pours off pockets on his body, and drags the dredges of his insides over the edge and on to the car below. Remus flinches with each drop, each splash, each splatter.

Remus wants to laugh. He cries instead.

“I’ve got you,” Dee says. “I’ve got you, darling.”

Remus almost wonders who he’s talking to. Darling? Him? Isn’t there someone else Dee should be calling that? Someone softer, someone kinder, someone who isn’t covered in their own blood and getting snot on his clean vest? Someone who doesn’t hold himself at a distance and play pretend that he’s okay like he’s still eight years old and hasn’t picked up that stupid red rubber ball yet?

“Remus,” Dee says, and it takes him a moment to focus on the way that Dee is in front of him, a hand gently cupping his chin and sending shivers all through his frantic body. They’re so close and Remus is sobbing and Dee is still here.

“I don’t need you,” Roman had said four years ago and then again every time Remus had closed his eyes since. Roman had been his tether, his anchor, his goal and his reason to do just about anything. Because that was what brothers were for, right? He had done everything he could to see his brother smile, to see Roman feel loved, to see Roman live unafraid of dying.

But when Remus was floating alone in the nothingness, the emptiness, the everythingness, Dee was the one who had shown up. Why was it that a stranger he met by chance at a casino wanted him there more than his own brother? Why was Remus covered in blood and crying and one swan dive from becoming an actual hot mess and Dee was still here, holding him, calling him darling, and speaking to him so softly?

“The one thing I want…is for us to stick together.” Dee had said several hundred billion futures ago.

Dee is right there and Remus can see the stars in his eyes, those soft, worried blue grey eyes that are uniquely his right along with the tears trailing down his face. Dee is right there and his hair is swept to the side, utterly mused from its the slicked back look that Dee likes. Dee is right there.

And Remus’s lips are on his.

Remus feels like he’s back in that IHOP from forever ago, feels like he’s bending over a table and just put Dee’s hand in syrup for funsies, feels like the clueless waitress is about to run over to them and command that they stop. He feels like he never punched Dee in the face for having feelings, feels like there was never a kid in that mall, feels like he didn’t drive for ten hours just to get away from himself.

Dee kisses like he needs the control. Remus kisses like every second is going to be his last.

Because everyone dies at some point and Remus is not the kind of person people stick around with. Because at any moment he might lose everything. Because the universe and the deities he doesn’t believe in are not nice. Because Remus, of all the people in the entire world, is aware of how short a second can be.

Dee pulls back with a pant, his pupils are blown wide, like a fucking cat. His fangs tease from between his lips, dripping with a smear of blood that’s probably Remus’s.

“I can’t tell if it's the blood loss or if you’re serious,” Dee says in that nauseating smart tone of his, “But can we put a pin in this?”

“Fuck you,” Remus says, because he can’t really think of anything else to say to him when he looks like that, when Remus’s chest hurts, when he’s so tired he thinks standing might kill him, when he’s so cold and Dee’s lips are a fire that he wants to ignite the rest of his body.

“Clothes off first,” Dee says somehow breathless and with more oxygen than Remus thinks he can ever get into his lungs. He can feel his fingers, twisting and pulling at the edge of Remus’s soaked shirt, dragging it up and over Remus’s head without any help from him at all.

Remus leans forward before the curve of the collar can stop him and chases after Dee’s warm lips.

“Rem--fuck, fuck, Remus!” Dee says again, and its the softest way anyone has ever said his name before. “Remus, we have to get you into dry clothes--” But then Dee is the one pushing his lips into Remus’s so what does it matter?

Water drips from Remus’s bangs into his eyes, and blood makes his mouth taste like metal and whatever the fuck it was that he ate last. Dee tugs at his shirt again and it finally comes off of him. Without any ceremony it goes flying behind them, somewhere in the room, and the resounding splat makes Remus flinch.

Dee hoists him up from under his arms, holding him when Remus ragdolls completely and stars blur his vision entirely. Remus digs his chin into Dee’s shoulder (he’s taller again; taller and stronger and carries Remus without real problems). Remus should feel bad, probably, because he’s soaked to the bone and now Dee is too, but all he feels is tired. A flicker of pain dances in his awareness, his arm whimpering from cuts Dee gave him at the rest stop. Its gone before he even recognizes what it is fully.

“Your internal temperature,” Dee breathes, placing Remus down, and oh this is familiar. A bathtub. Remus has been in a tons of those before taking keys, scissors, his own nails to his own w-- “is a fucking ice cube.”

Dee’s hands are trailing on his shoulders, on his collarbone, up his neck and cupping his cheeks. He’s so warm, and his touches paint Remus in invisible blisters, like Dee is turning his body into an arsonist’s memorial. He’s a pyre and Dee is the torch come to turn him to ash.

The water is a surprise. The rumbling of the hotel pipes sounds like thunder and Remus tries really, really hard not to let his stomach swoop with the dizziness the pounding in his head makes. Dee is talking to him, Remus thinks. But the words sound so much more prettier when he can’t understand them.

Dee has a really nice voice. Remus likes it, likes him. He likes the way it sounds talking french even when Dee is drunk off his ass, he likes the way it makes shapes and moves when he’s speaking, he likes the way the words always seem so genuine even when they aren’t, won’t, can’t be.

Remus feels his head tip back and his eyes follow the way that Dee’s lips form that perfect circle and maybe that’s a bad thing, but he can feel all his limbs tingling from warmth for the first time in fifty billion Three AMs that didn’t happen.

He is scared, but Dee is still here.

He lets his eyes close and sleeps and trusts that Dee not is go ing to b e lik e ev er y ot her pe rson tha t Re mu s ha s e v e r m e t

H e c o me s to w ith hi s he ad fe eling heav y as s hit a nd his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Remus is warm, and its the type of warmth that he hadn't remembered he’d forgotten: the type that reaches all the way down to his toes, to the tips of his fingers, that winds its way around his limbs and cocoons him in an embrace that makes him want to stay there forever. He’s warm and safe and its all he’s ever wanted.

“--strikes again! It seems that wherever malcontent is stewing, the Prince shows up to stop it. This week alone he’s been all up and down the East Coast. Crime rates in nearly seven states have gone down 8% over this past month.”

Remus blinks his eyes open, with far more effort than he probably should need. He feels tired, in a way that's ingrained deep in his bones, carved into the marrow with a switchblade and decorated with flesh that's only there for show and not for use.

“I hear you, John. At the press conference held by the Department of Defense earlier today, Princeps--”

“See, Is it Princeps or Prince? I’ve heard it both ways recently.”

Remus is in a bed and he’s under the covers, tucked in with a care Remus doesn’t think he’s been given since that day he first saw Roman die and his mother didn’t know why he was crying yet. The ceiling looks like popcorn kernels, and he has a lucid memory of sharing a bag of popcorn with Dee and tasting the salt and butter and feeling his teeth break on the unexpected seeds.

“I think it was Princeps. Although Prince certainly has a much better ring to it. Brings back the chivalry, doesn’t it, Ladies? If he keeps this up I’m gonna start expecting more from the men around me-- that means you too, John! Coffee on Tuesdays isn’t going to be enough.”

“Oh good god Karen! You sound like my wife. Pretty soon us normal guys aren’t gonna be able to begin to compete with the World’s First Real Superhero.”

“Oh Fuck that noise,” Dee says, followed by a thump of something hitting the ground across the room.

It takes much more energy than Remus thinks it should but he manages to leverage himself just a bit: folds his arms to his sides and presses his elbows into the quicksand mattress and with a grunt he pushes his limp upper body into the air. For a wonderful split second, he stays upright, breathing fine and taking in the sight of Dee sitting casually at the foot of the bed, legs crossed and one of his dress shoes in his lap with a buffing brush in his hand.

Dee spins at the noise, dropping his brush and tossing his other shoe into the void around them. “Remus!” He’s around the bed in the next instant, gently catching Remus’s shoulders and laying him back on the mattress. “You’re awake-- I didn’t-- Are you-- wait no fuck…”

His touch is fire, even through the T-shirt Remus is in, which, he realizes in a cotton stuffed thought process, doesn’t smell like his own. There’s the distinct smell of fresh ink, of shoe polish and dried linen and of something that he hasn’t ever been able to put a name too other than “Dee”. He’s wearing Dee’s clothes, lying in Dee’s bed, wrapped up in Dee’s blankets and Dee is standing over him fretting like a mother hen.

Its almost funny considering that Remus can’t remember if his own mother had ever done that for him.

Remus wonders what it would take to get Dee to lie down next to him and sleep too.

He blinks and when he opens his eyes again Dee is kneeling next to him and urging an open bottle of water to his lips. Remus takes it like a drowning man takes in air. Its cool, almost cold, even though logically Remus knows its just room temperature and it feels so fucking good going down his throat and taking away the bad taste in his mouth.

Its like metal and Remus tried very super hard not to imagine the finger’s propping his neck up as shards of a windshield slicing through his medulla. His tongue pries off the roof of his mouth he nearly chokes on the small sip he gets.

Dee pulls the water away but he stays and Remus thinks that three inches has never been so far away before in his life. Dee’s breath is warm, a tickle against his cheek, a caress that for some stupid reason makes him want to cry.

Isn’t he out of tears yet?

“Hey,” Dee says, barely more than a whisper, as if he’s afraid talking too loud will shatter this reality. Remus kinda wishes he’d forgo all the talking and just go back to kissing him; his thoughts are fuzzy but Remus is certain there’s at least one place that Dee missed on his neck.

“He…” Remus swallows, “hey.”

“You alright?” Dee says possibly softer than before. It almost doesn’t suit him at all. Remus has known him for months now, known every inch of his personality, every scale on his face, every breath from his lungs. Remus has seen him live and laugh and love and lie and its all been loud and proud. He’s not soft and he’s not kind and Remus loves that about him.

Soft and kind people are forgettable; Dee is not.

“I’m…” Remus’s mouth is too full of words to actually say anything at all. His chest aches when he inhales, and “Kiss me again?”

There’s three inches between them, two, one, and Remus’s lips touch against his so softly he almost thinks it is a dream. Light as a feather, careful, and simple, like he’s asking a question and waiting for Remus to say “no”. For a greedy as he is-- and yes Remus knows Dee’s greedy, knows that when money is involved his appetite for it grows tenfold, knows that they could have all the luxuries in the world and Dee would still want something more, knows that “satisfied” is not a word in any dictionary Dee has-- for as greedy as Dee is, the way he kisses here, now, in this instant, is like he won’t fight if it gets taken from him.

(Which is as stupid as it is ridiculous. When was the last Remus had denied him something he wanted?)

“Like this?” Dee breathes into his mouth, “Kiss you like this?”

This is different, this is new, this is strange, Remus thinks. Because this is not like any future he’s ever seen. Not like bending over an IHOP table, not like knocking on Dee’s door in the middle of the night, not like winding his fingers around Dee’s suit lapels or his tie or his waist and dragging him closer.

Its warmer, burning through him like he’s made of gasoline and even the smallest touch of their lips is enough to make Remus combust. Dee doesn’t bite, although Remus knows he can, and usually does, but takes all that Remus will give him.

“Ye-yes,” Remus pants, “please--”

Dee smiles at him, a wisp of his brown hair floating down over his misty eyes. He looks like an angel, ethereal and untouchable. Remus is so busy being in awe of the way he looks that he completely misses the flash of movement in his peripherals until the pillow is actively coming down on him.

“Fucking!” Dee snarls, slamming it down on his face again and again, “Dumbass! What the hell were you thinking?!”

“Ow! Owowowow!” Remus yelps in between being smothered. Is it bad he kinda likes it? “Sorry!”

Dee slaps the pillow on his head one more time and then sits back on his haunches. He pants a couple times, because he’s a prissy rich white boy who’s never worked out before now, and then massages his temples.

“Goddamned idiot,” Dee huffs, “What the hell was that? You didn’t answer your door and so I shifted my way in and you just fucking... you were... I thought...”

Remus watched him breathe, watched him shudder and shake and stare down at the carpet like it held more answers than Remus’s face.

“Dee--”

“I know what we said, okay?” Dee spits out, “I know that we made that agreement about no feelings or shit but I lied okay! I can’t do this without having emotions. I look at you and I just… I don’t want to ever see you hurt. I’ve been looking up medical references on how to handle the nosebleeds and I’ve been trying to get you to eat foods to thicken your blood just a bit because god knows you don’t eat enough broccoli as it is--”

“Dee.”

“--and I was trying to figure out how to say something because I’ve known something has been up for so long now and I should have said something sooner-”

“Dee.”

“--but then you were just about out of your mind all that day and you took the keys and drove us and I was afraid if I said something you were gonna leave me behind and I think if I lose you I’m not gonna… I’m not gonna…”

“Dee!” Remus says and the shapeshifter finally looks up at him. His eyes are red rimmed, and his face is pinched like he’s trying still trying to hold back a word hurricane and it’s tearing him up inside.

“I’m sorry,” Dee says, with a quivering lip. “I’m sorry, I’m sorrysorrysorr--”

Remus wants to launch himself off the bed and steal the syllables from Dee’s mouth. He manages to flop over, and hang himself off the edge of the bed, dangerously close to falling right into Dee’s lap.

“Why are you apologizing?”

Dee stares at him, like he’s from another world, like he’s not real, like he’s another piece of a future that isn’t going to happen and Remus wonders why this one feels more fake than any other future he’s ever lived through.

“That’s super not like you,” Remus says, talking like there isn’t a lump the size of a boulder in his throat, talking and hoping his words aren’t gonna be the thing that scares Dee away finally, talking without thinking, “But if you really want to make it up to me, you can get back up here and kiss me again. Maybe something saucier if you--”

Dee hits him with the pillow again, and he tumbles off the bed right into Dee’s lap, bruising where his head collides with a knee and his neck does something not-good.

And then… well then Remus is staring up at Dee and whatever else he could possibly say wanders off somewhere in his mind, leaving only a painful silence in their wake: a sizeable gap, a puzzle piece hole where something should be but there isn’t and it pretty much ruins the whole picture now, doesn’t it?

“Tell me something, Re,” Dee says and Remus thinks that he should have said something, anything, everything, anyway.

Whatever it would have taken to get away from this, to put it off, to push it away until they both forgot about it and things wouldn’t have to change. He doesn’t want things to change, doesn’t want Dee to look at him and expect something different because if he does Remus will and then he’ll slip up one day and Dee will realize how much better off he could be and then Remus will be alone.

And he was alone for four years and he doesn’t want to do that again. Not now. Not ever.

He doesn’t think he can. The idea of driving without having to fight over the radio station, of having to talk to the hotel receptionists himself or sleep in his car again, of turning with one of his hilarious comments only to find an empty space next to him? It makes his stomach rebel to consider.

Out of all the people in the world he knows how lonely being alone can be.

“How long?” Dee says, “How long were you out there?”

For a moment Remus thinks about lying. Of saying just a few minutes, thirty tops, don’t look at me like that. Of pretending, of doing that make believe-- but then he remembers how much lying is like acting and how much he hates being a performer.

“Since… three am.” Remus says and the honesty burns his tongue, “And I couldn’t…I couldn’t move. I was stuck.”

Dee’s grip on him tightens, which is frankly startling because Remus hadn’t even realized Dee was holding him. There’s an audible swallow, a gulp, that’s nearly a whimper and Remus doesn’t know which of them make it.

“Th-three,” Dee echoes, lips shaking so much that Remus sees double and wonders if he could kiss that shake away. “W-what do you mean you were stuck?”

Remus blinks away the cold feeling of rain pouring over his body, of gravity dragging his core downwards, of his neck snapping to the side, of a receptionist screaming and car alarms turning his thoughts to mush.

“Like… like just physically stuck, Remus?” Dee asks, “Like you fell and hurt yourself and couldn’t get up?”

He sounds so hopeful about it that Remus wants to lie again.

He grinds his molars together and shakes his head instead. There’s blood in the back of his throat. Why does the truth always end with blood? On a snowglobe shattered on Roman’s head, on the gravel after it drips from Dee’s nose, in the back of Remus’s throat right here, right now.

“Stuck,” Remus says, “as in I couldn’t get out of the future.”

Dee breathes slow, hard, painfully. “Th-that can happen?”

Its not like Dee to be scared. It makes Remus feel less stupid for hiding it for so long. He doesn’t trust himself not to start unravelling at his seams if he opens his mouth again so he just wiggles his shoulders.

Dee exhales every atom in his lungs, Remus breathes them all in. The silence is awful, but its better than words.

“Has it...have I made…” Dee says, which is bad.

“No,” Remus says, so tired, so exhausted, “No, Dee. You didn’t make me do anything, okay? Don’t think that. I look because I want to. And when I get stuck its my fault--”

“What causes you to get stuck?”

Remus’s mouth closes with a click. His eyelids ache, heavy and itchy but his arms are way too cumbersome to even think about rubbing them.

“I don’t…” Remus says and stops, because he does know. He spent all morning thinking about it, spent eleven billion trillion freefalls thinking about it, spent a thunderstorm and an unconsciousness thinking about it. What causes him to get stuck?

What makes the visions repeat, the future to become repetitive? What makes living feel like deja vu?

“Whats the smallest animal you’ve ever turned into?” Remus asks, “Like an ant? A worm, maybe a spider?”

Dee crinkles his nose at the mention of spiders. “An African Egg Eating snake. I used to ride in the pocket of….nevermind. Why are you asking?”

(Its the first time Dee has ever brought up the insinuation that someone else knows about his power. Remus doesn’t know what to think about that so he doesn’t.)

“When you were that small, did you ever…were you ever afraid? Of being crushed?”

“You get stuck in the future because you’re afraid of it?” There’s no judgement in his voice, just desperate curiosity and a need to understand why Remus is so fucking suicidal.

“That’s not an answer,” Remus points out, but it falls flat when Dee just stares at him. “No. Or yes. Maybe? Do you know how many possibilities there are in the universe? How many things are impacted from just one decision? The Butterfly Effect-- you know that right?”

Dee’s eyebrows furrow, “You mean from the concept of time travel? Where if you go back in time and kill a butterfly you can start a chain reaction of events that drastically alter the future and prevent yourself from ever being born?”

“Yes!” Remus says, “Exactly. Except think about if Every. Single. Object. Is a Butterfly. Your clothes are a butterfly, your shoes are a butterfly, what cereal you eat in the morning is a butterfly, the music you listen to, what bus you take, if you make eye contact with a stranger, if you smile-- They’re all fucking butterflies.”

Dee’s not following. Its cute how he tries to pretend like he is.

Remus swallows and tries again, “You wear a suit most days, right? Say we’re out in public and you wear a suit and so as we’re walking everyone moves out of the way for you, cause like… youve got money. One of the guys who moves out of the way isn’t watching where he’s moving and he bumps into a woman with a baby waiting at a crosswalk. She’s off balance so she falls into the road and oh no a bus is coming! Splat! No more woman or baby all because you wore a suit. And the bus driver gets fired and the media paints him as a devil so he can’t get rehired and really thats just the last straw since his wife died of lung disease last week so he gets a belt and bye bye. Guess what his son sees when he stops by for a visit the next day? Everyone loves free trauma--”

“Remus,” Dee says, “You need to breathe.”

Remus gasps in all the air in the entire world and its still not enough to calm him down. Its not enough and Remus doesn’t think it will ever be enough. He’s shaking right there in Dee’s arms and he’s begging for air that his lungs refuse to hold.

“There are so many,” Remus wheezes, “So many, Dee. And people die all the fucking time in them.”

“Shhh,” Dee murmurs but Remus can’t get himself to stop.

“Everyone dies and I can’t-- I don’t-- If I don’t stop it isn’t it my fault? If I do stop it, is that what I’m supposed to do? I was standing there and I could see everything and I felt so wrong doing it. What if next time I’m not fast enough? What if something like the mall happens again? What if I can’t save you in time and I’m left staring at your corpse knowing I could have?”

Dee smells like shoe polish and dried ink. His heartbeat feels like a drum beat, pounding louder than Remus’s thoughts when the shapeshifter yanks him up and into a hug that Remus can’t possibly hope to return. He doesn’t realize he’s crying again until the side of his face is pressed into Dee’s chest and he’s breathing in the scents and hearing that heartbeat.

Dee’s hands rub fiery circles on his back and he’s rocking them gently, like Remus is an unruly newborn who doesn’t know a thing about mortality yet.

“Shh,” Dee whispers, “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

Remus feels like he’s falling again even though he’s safely in Dee’s arms. The ground is coming isn’t it? And if he opens his eyes it will be there and Remus will go splat and there will be no more do-overs.

The possibilities are so big, so large, so many. And everything has an impact. Cause and Effect and everyone ends up dead in the end. Roman and a silver sedan, Dee riddled with a bunch of bullet holes, Logan and a cracked head in an unlabeled open manhole-- it could happen at any moment, every moment, this moment.

Remus’s visions are so large and he’s so small and every time he makes a choice it feels a bit like he’s setting this life up for a tragedy. It wouldn’t take much for the comic forces in the universe to crush him like an ant, or a worm or a spider or an African egg eating snake.

“We’re okay,” Dee says, wiping away a tear from Remus’s eyes. “We’re going to be okay, Remus.”

He talks like he’s the one with the ability to see the future. Or that he’s going to fight every god there is until they are. And there’s a part of Remus that believes him.

It sounds like a promise, like a challenge, like Dee is waiting for Remus to ask him how he knows and Remus doesn’t have the guts to actually do it. Always a coward. After all, when things get bad, Remus runs, doesn’t he? Away from home, out of the car, into his mind.

The room around them turns golden and orange and then purple and grey and Dee makes no movement to change where they are curled up on the floor of a hotel room. The carpet is hell but Dee keeps rocking them and hums until Remus’s tears dry up and he himself forgets how to push air out his nose.

Somehow throughout all of this the TV is still on, playing the news or a rerun of the news from earlier, but it feels muted from the world: something in the background, something not real, something that can’t ever touch them.

“Do you feel better now?” Dee asks softly.

Remus groans, “headache.”

Dee nods absently. He presses a kiss to Remus' forehead, “I have some ibuprofen.”

“Won’t work,” Remus presses his nose into Dee’s collarbone, “Medication doesn’t do shit for me. Never has.”

“Then we need to get something to eat,” Dee says subdued.

“Ice cream for dinner?” Remus suggests.

“You need a protein.”

“What if I put hot sauce on it? And chili peppers.”

“Those are not proteins, dear.” There’s a ghost of a smile on Dee’s face, which isn’t much, but considering how crappy both of them feel, Remus counts it as a win. He breathes in and listens to Dee’s steady heartbeat.

“Dear” and “Darling” make the hair on the back of his neck stand up. It sounds so eloquent coming from Dee, so natural and easy. One of Dee’s hands trail up Remus’s back and twist around the curls at the base of his hairline. Remus thinks he wouldn’t mind staying like this forever.

“--Secretary of Defense, Dragana Witchall, made this announcement this afternoon regarding the influx of beings with so called “super powers”--”

“Wait what,” Dee says, shifting them to the side to get a better look at the screen. Remus follows his gaze by proxy. On it is a recording of a lady who matches Janus in terms of dressing immaculately: a plum striped pantsuit and with a white shirt underneath and no jewelry. Her blonde hair is pinned back in the same professional bun that just about every no-nonsense teacher Remus ever had had. She looks about three seconds away from slapping every reporters’ hands with a ruler and giving them detention for questioning her.

Remus hasn’t ever seen her before. He thinks he would remember a face like that.

“Emergency legislation,” She says, and Remus gets chills, “Has been put in place to ensure the safety of all beings living in America.”

“Oh no,” Janus says.

“Starting immediately, under the implications of the Next Evolution Act, all beings with discernible inhumane abilities will be required by law to register their abilities with the Federal Bureau of Evolution (FBE). While this is to protect all citizens from possible catastrophic danger, we have been assured that identities of those with such power will be handled with the utmost professionalism and confidentiality. Information about locations for registration will be shared in a few moments. We ask that people seek out these locations as soon as possible and will implement incarceration for an indeterminate amount of time for those who refuse to cooperate with the FBE. In the meantime, we encourage all citizens to remain calm and look to the future with hope.

“Now, here with a few words, is Princeps, who has graciously agreed to partner with the American Government--”

The rest is drowned out by the cheering of the reporters as the self acclaimed superhero steps into the screen, onto the stage, up to the podium and everyone surges forward.

Remus feels sick looking at it: the cheery smile of the man in white with a red plastered face mask and eyes that seem to stare into his soul, the way he takes control of the podium with ease and fluidity, the way that the camera bobbles trying to get closer. Princeps-- Prince-- whoever he is soaks in the chaos of the questions being thrown at him and revels in it.

Dee’s nails prick into Remus’s back.

“They can’t do that,” he says.

“I think they just did,” Remus says, maybe laughing, and wondering how much the government is paying the guy on stage to stand there. He doesn’t look real. He looks like someone’s fantasy, a pipe dream, a day dream created to placate the undercurrents of terror. Remus gets the urge to throw something at him, just to see if Princey boy here would dissipate into smoke like a dream too.

“No, Remus,” Dee says, fixing him with horrified gaze, “They- They cannot be allowed to do this. Forcing people to register with the government-- You know what that is right? They’ll sit you done in a windowless room and ask you how much you love your country. Enough to die for it? Enough to put your life on the line for it? And then they’ll turn you into a human weapon. And that’s just if you say yes automatically.”

“What if I say no?”

“Then they’ll tell you to fill out this form with your home address and let go you on your way and about two weeks later you’re going to be killed in a drunk driving accident.” Dee snarls between his fangs, “Or-- Or one of your family members will go mysteriously missing, okay? And they’ll show up on your doorstep and ask again. And even if that doesn’t happen, they’ll be some asshat who hacks the database or sneaks into the Headquarters and gets his hands on even a portion of the list and releases it and people will die from prejudices. This is bad.”

Remus stiffens.

Princeps is still on TV talking animatedly to the reporters who hang on his every word. “As I was saying, with the help of the FBE, I managed to gain control of my abilities, which otherwise could have hurt those around me. In fact the FBE helped all of my team--”

“Excuse me, Prince! ” A reporter interrupts, “Did you say Team?”

The figure on screen laughs brightly; Remus thinks it the most irritating sound he’s ever heard even if he can’t pinpoint why exactly.

“Yes, fair maiden! I do have a team! They are the most wonderful people I have ever had the pleasure to meet, Although I started my journey alone, I’m proud to call them my friends. We’re few in numbers now, but hopefully with time and patience, more brave souls will step forward to help us protect our homes and the lives of the people we love--”

Remus is pleased that both him and Dee fake gag at the same time.

“--That being said, each of us have agreed to partner up and help the FBE with their registration. I, myself, and my partner will be heading out to the West Coast right after this and we’ll be in the Portland area for most of the week for any of you fine folk who may want autographs.” He flashes a brilliant, blinding smile at the camera.

“Portland,” Remus repeats. “Isn’t that where we are?”

Dee has a look on his face and Remus knows that look. Very well in fact. It’s haunted his favorite memories in the past several months: the moments before he’s picked a mark, moments before he nudges Remus in the side, the moments before they start planning on how to do something illegal.

Its based on trust: Remus will find them the future that works, Dee will listen without hesitation and they’ll get out together.

Dee shifts and wiggles a bit, sticking a hand in his pocket and comes back with a coin, the purple Barney from the Baskillisk Casino where they met that had wandered off the floor in Remus’s pocket. He rolls it between his fingers.

“Are you...can you…?” He asks.

“Still see the future?” Remus finishes.

“Without it hurting you.” De says, “Because it's a definite no if you’re gonna end up in a pool of your own blood like that again. I’d rather not know things than not have you here next to me.”

Remus is quiet, which is unlike him. The TV switches to a commercial break about toothpaste or something and the screen illuminates Dee’s very kissable lips very nicely.

“Tell you what,” Dee says, shakily, “Heads, we do something about it. Probably end up taking out an entire new branch of government and putting some superheroes in the hospital. And possibly become the most wanted men on the Earth. Tails, we ignore it until we can’t.”

He swallows. Then he balances the coin on his thumb. In the dark of the room Remus can’t even tell which size is which.

--It flings up into the air with an impressive height, flipping eight times by its pinnacle and another eleven by the time it comes down on the floor and bounces into another arc, another flip, two, three. And Remus thinks that “supposed to be” can go fuck itself, because he doesn’t care what should and shouldn’t happen all of a sudden.--

It flings up into the air with an impressive height, flipping eight times by its pinnacle and another eleven by the time it comes down right into Remus’s palm.

“What do you know,” Remus says, innocently as it comes. “It landed on Heads."

[Chapter 6]

#Deja vu AU #Demus #Janus Sanders #Remus Sanders #tw:suicide #tw: blood #KISS KISS KISS KISS #look I was so excited to write this kiss scene alright #Epic level of foreshadowing here #Guess whos gonna show up in the next chapter guys #the dragon witch #roman sanders #the Plot emerges!#finally!!#sanders sides

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alovesongshewrote · 4 years ago

Text

Almost A Thousand Years - Spellbound | Hisirdoux Casperan

Plot: You’ve known Hisirdoux Casperan for almost a thousand years. You’ve hated him for almost a thousand years. And for almost a thousand years, you’ve been cursed to feel each others pain. But somewhere in that time, things changed. [Hisirdoux Casperan x Mostly Gender Neutral but Probably Female Presenting Based on How Historical Men Treat Them!Reader]

Word Count: 5,298

Warnings: guess who’s swearing again, reader is generally sad lol, mentions of torture

A/N: OOP WIZARDS

Tags: @furblrwurblr @rainningdoom @fluffydmonkey @blondie0458 @sitherin-mxschief @jinxedleo @lawlesshedgehog @einahpetsyarcip

Back | Next

“Beware! You, you! Are in grave danger!”

“Archie?”

You were very surprised to see the familiar and very glad that whatever made you want to hurt Douxie didn’t apply to him.

“(Y/N)?”

“Heyyy, Arch,”

“(Y/N), where have you been? Douxie’s been looking for you everywhere!”

“That’s what I’m worried about,”

“Wait, (Y/N), you know the talking cat?” Toby exclaimed, frantically between you and the cat-dragon.

“He’s a familiar, actually,”

“Familiar?”

“Nuh-uh, not familiar, I would remember if I’d met a talking cat,”

“No, familiar, wizard-assistant,”

“Assistant! That’s very offensive, I am a wizard associate, thank you very much,”

“Yeah, okay, semantics, what do you need Arch?”

“I need you to come with me, or the world as you know it will come to end,”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. Had you and your gang of stray children, trolls, and Akiridions not saved the planet enough for one year? What sin did you commit to cause these unending apocalypses to rain down on you?

“Are you threatening me pussy cat?”

You put a hand on Steve’s shoulder, a little worried that he would actually try to fight Archie. It wouldn’t be too out of character for him.

“No, I’m warning you,” Archie responded, calm as ever, “Put simply, the world as you know it is about to end,”

“What else is new,” you muttered, following the cat-dragon down the street, “C’mon guys, let’s see what wants to destroy the universe now,”

Toby, Steve and Arrrgh kept up the conversation while you followed Archie in silence, silently praying that wherever the familiar led you, his wizard would be far away.

Your prayers went unanswered.

“Sorry, this is a lot to take in. Pets can talk? The world is ending? Again?”

“Not the best timing, I know, but we need your help all the same,”

“Douxie?”

“Casperan,”

“(Y/N)?”

“Wait, (Y/N), you know this guy too!?”

You froze in place at Steve’s question, looking briefly into Douxie’s eyes. If it hadn’t been physically painful to avoid killing him whenever you were in the same place, it still would’ve been emotionally painful. How could you look into the eyes of the one person you could always count on, the man you loved, when he had left you for dead? How could you look into his eyes knowing you had been sent to kill him? Centuries had passed, and yet you still felt like the traitor you’d always been.

“We’re acquaintances,” you said, stepping back in a desperate attempt to quell the bloodlust rising within you, trying to escape the rage that wasn’t yours.

You avoided looking into Douxie’s eyes again, but the hurt on his face was clear to you, even if you weren’t staring directly at it.

“Wait, wait, hold up, I thought you worked at the cafe or were a model or something-?”

Douxie laughed a little, trying to shake off your icy demeanour, “There’s a lot about me you don’t know,”

The cuff on his wrist glowed blue, the light forming an orb in the palm of his hand. The teenagers in front of you were wide-eyed, amazed by Douxie’s use of magic. You just shook your head and kept trying not to kill your oldest friend.

He pressed the orb to the door of the bookshop, unlocking it, “Come on then, the answers to all your questions are within,”

“Sure they are,” you muttered, hanging back as the boys filed into the store. You took a second to look at Arcadia’s Arcane bookstore, one of the few places in town you’d never actually been to. When Douxie started working there, you decided that avoiding the shop was a key part of not committing murder. The same went for the cafe, and anywhere else the wizard went.

“(Y/N)?” Speak of the devil, it was the wizard. The one whose life you were trying to save, “C’mon, I need you for this, too,”

“I-” you looked down, desperately searching for an excuse. End of the world or not, saving Douxie from yourself was more important. Maybe you should’ve just left Arcadia.

“(Y/N),” his voice was soft, just as you remembered it. The way he looked at you made you want to cry. There was so much love in his eyes. Left for dead or not, you couldn’t deny he did care about you, “Please,”

He reached out, his hand gently clasping around your wrist. No matter how much you longed for his touch, you tore your hand from his grip as if you’d been burned.

“Fine, Douxie, I’ll join you on whatever hell-quest this is, but you have to promise that you’ll stay away from me,”

He was shocked, clearly taken aback by what you said, “That’s… that’s fine, but why?”

It killed you to hear how heartbroken he sounded, “I’ll explain later, let’s just go,”

The hurt in your voice hit him hard. The way you’d jerked your hand back left him feeling as if he’d done something wrong. Whatever it was, Douxie promised himself that he would figure it out and apologize to you and make it better. He didn’t need you to forgive him, he just wanted you to smile again. He wanted to see the light in your eyes, the one that he’d been falling in love with since at least the fifteen-hundreds, even if he wasn’t the cause of it. Ever since you’d disappeared, you’d been distant. The few chances he got to look at you, you’d seemed haunted. He wanted to help you so bad, but he couldn’t do anything unless you let him.

Silently, the two of you walked through the door.

Inside the shop, various objects floated about, surrounded by a green hue. You recognized that magic. It had cursed you years ago and had cursed Jim more recently. Merlin.

“Put that down! Thank the ether you’re here! We haven’t a moment to waste,”

“Woah, crusty creepy dude,”

You laughed at that, trying to keep yourself quiet and failing. You wouldn’t say it to Merlin’s face, but those were your thoughts almost exactly. The old wizard ignored both you and Steve.

“I had hoped for more Hisirdoux,”

“Jeez, thanks Merlin,”

“Silence, traitor,”

You rolled your eyes into the back of your head. Would no one let you live that down?

As if Douxie sensed your discomfort, the young wizard took the attention off of you, “Look, I tried, I couldn’t find the changelings or the aliens. I’m pretty sure most left the planet,”

“Merlin! It’s me! Toby Domzalski! Y’know, War Hammer, Guardian of Arcadia, Geology Club president,”

“No one could forget you chatty,”

“Oh my god, Merlin, what have I told you about talking to kids!”

Since the old man had awoken from his nine-century long sleep, you’d tried to convince him to do two things. Call Douxie, because the young wizard deserved to know what was going on and you couldn’t tell him yourself, and be nicer to the children for god’s sake.

“And Steve Palchuk! Creepslayer!”

“I have no idea who you are, but we’re desperate. Thankfully, we have the brute,”

“Because, y’know, the traitor is of no use to you,” you muttered, scooping up Archie, trying to interrupt a dispute between him and Arrrgh. Fortunately, the familiar did not struggle to get away from you despite your cold attitude towards his wizard. That, at the very least, brought you some relief.

“Wait, where’s Jimbo and Claire? I thought they were with you?”

“Yeah, good question Merlin, where’ are the kids you’re in charge of?”

“Answers forthcoming. Make preparations, we’ve a journey ahead. And don’t-”

“But Master!”

“‘But Master,’ me,”

“Very typical,” you sighed, releasing Archie from your hold. Your attention was brought back to Douxie.

“But… are you sure you want to count on these children? They’re clearly not ready for this,”

He was partially right. Your kids had seen battle before and could probably take whatever was thrown at them, but that didn’t mean they should have to. They deserved a break.

Steve scoffed, “Excuse me, college dude, these children fought off a fifty-foot extraterrestrial,” he made a good point despite it being an obvious brag, and it would have held some weight, had he not promptly gotten into a scuffle with an enchanted set of armour.

You watched, cringing a bit, before turning your attention to Merlin and Douxie’s conversation.

“I’ve spent years preparing, centuries-!” All true, once again. You could say what you wanted about Hisirdoux Casperan, but you couldn’t deny he was more than capable when it came to magic. You'd seen his magic improve over the centuries, and you knew for a fact that he could kick some ass.

“Silence!” Merlin cut Douxie off, reminding you ever so slightly of your Camelot days. You wanted, desperately, to comfort your friend, but being in the same room was hard enough. If you touched him, he would die.

“I mean, silence, all of you,” Merlin corrected himself, “Can you not hear that?”

You could hear nothing, but you stopped to listen anyway. Beside you, Toby drew his hammer, readying for a battle.

You still couldn’t hear it.

“Something wicked this way comes,”

You squeezed your eyes shut, tired and stressed, but willing to fight. You drew your sword, and in front of you, blue magic circled around Douxie’s wrist. Your body was telling you to murder him right now, show him no mercy, go for the throat, but you held back. Now was not the time to kill your friends.

Merlin and Douxie walked past you to look out the window. You joined them, squinting to try and make out what lurked in the murky darkness, only to jump back when a shadow mephit flung itself at the glass in front of you. It bounced off a shield of blue, tumbling off into the street to join its brothers and sisters, all of which now came into view.

“Shadow mephits? Traitor, did you lead them here?”

“You do know I have a name, right?”

“No, no, it wasn’t (Y/N), it was me, or at least I think it was,”

“Yes, it was us,” Archie said, jumping onto a shelf next to Douxie. You would’ve laughed at the familiar’s candor, had the shadow mephits been less interested in breaking in.

Merlin just shook his head, “He found us. The barrier won’t hold for long. We must make egress! Tobias, take my things!”

With a wave of Merlin’s hand, a trunk, surrounded by the green glow of his magic, slammed into Toby and flew him up to the roof, screaming.

“For god’s sake, Merlin,” he couldn’t hear you through the attack, but it was the sentiment that counted.

But then again nothing really mattered. A mephit broke through the barrier, only to face a bolt of magic from Merlin, “All of you to the roof!”

You grabbed Steve and Arrrgh and started up the stairs. Douxie, of course, didn’t listen to his master. You couldn’t hear the argument that took place between them as you guided your companions up the stairs, but you could see what was going on below you. You had to admit, Douxie blasting shadow mephits while standing his ground in an argument was pretty damn impressive (impressive here meaning hot.)

Merlin moved past you, blasting some mephits as he went. You took initiative and sent some magic their way as well, knocking a few away from Archie. Douxie grabbed his familiar with magic, saving the cat-dragon from a very mephit-y death.

“C’mon Douxie,” you said, waiting for him by the door, crying out slightly when the nerd rammed his hand into a candle, feeling the burn on your own hand. Your wizard took a brief moment to look at you, then the candle before lighting the bookstore on fire.

To be fair, it was a magic fire, and it wasn’t damaging anything but the mephits. You were actually quite impressed by that, too, and you were very charmed by his laughter once he saw that his plan worked. Merlin, however, didn’t care.

“Fire!?”

“Yeah, magic fire!”

“In a bookstore!!?”

“Butmephitsarevulnerabletofire-”

“Move it!”

You grabbed Archie, jumping out the door to see your friends fighting off even more shadow mephits.

“Got any more magic fire, Doux?”

“‘M afraid I’m fresh out,”

“Ah. Fuck,”

You swung your sword into the nearest mephit, “I guess we’ll have to do this the old fashioned way then,” You buried the blade in another one of the creatures before placing Archie on the ground and blocking a blow from yet another mephit.

“Stand back!” Merlin exclaimed, throwing a crystal ball that released a small ship from inside of it. The blast from the ship blew back a few of the mephits long enough for everyone to have a two-second gawk at the little boat.

“Woah, ship just got real!”

“Yeah-huh,”

“Everyone on!” Arrrgh growled, tossing all of you on board.

You frantically scuttled away from Douxie, double-checking your blade to be sure it didn’t have his blood on it. It didn’t. He was safe. From you, at least.

You stuck to one side of the ship, watching your friends fight off more shadow mephits on the other side. You sincerely hoped they’d never have to fight you like that.

You heard someone say, “Boy,” from below, a voice that was eerily familiar to one you had heard before, not too long ago. You were about to rise and check to see if your suspicions were correct, but before you had the chance, green shards flew through the air, just like-

Just like the one that had gone through you.

You didn’t have time to ponder things as Merlin’s ship flew off through the night sky. You just sat back and shut your eyes, trying to keep the internal demons at bay.

You did your best to erase the memory from your mind. To forget a green knight who, on the orders of his masters, sent a shard of black magic right through you. You should have died, but instead, the projectile broke through your skin and disintegrated, taking over your body, turning you into an assassin against your will. Your captors had called it a trial, an experiment. Sneaking a look at one of the shards beside you, you realized that you had been a test run. That shard hadn’t disintegrated.

You kept your eyes shut.

A few minutes later, the memories faded. You could relax, finally. The sound of the boys screaming with joy rang through the air. Flying was fun, you had to admit that. You opened your eyes, first looking at Steve, Arrrgh, and Toby, then at Douxie.

He was beautiful, staring off into the distance as if there was nothing in the world to worry about. As if the assassin sent to kill him wasn’t at his side right now. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep any emotion from showing. You couldn’t let them know anything was wrong, if you did they’d never trust you again. But what you felt was overwhelming.

You were stressed, not knowing what was to come in the future, nor what your captors would do to you if they knew your target was still alive. You were hurt, because over the ten years that you’d been tortured your best friend hadn’t searched for you, even though he had before. Was he tired of you? Did he just not care anymore? You were scared of the answer. And worst of all, you were in love. But you refused to admit it.

“What the heck is that?”

You turned your attention to the horizon before you, “That’s not-”

“Welcome, young squires, to Camelot,”

“Camelot!? Like, as in ancient-old-people-times Camelot!?”

“Thanks, Toby,” you snarked under your breath. You heard a snicker from beside you. You made him laugh. That made you feel a lot better. You even smiled when you thought Douxie wasn’t looking. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad.

He was looking. His fondness for seeing his old home dulled in comparison to his fondness for you. The small smile on your lips was enough to power his world for decades, no, centuries. You still seemed troubled, but if you smiled now, there was still hope that he could help you make things better.

“Excuse me, I have a question. How is this castle flying right now?”

“The Heart of Avalon. Its magic keeps Camelot aloft, powered by time itself,”

You took a moment to lean over the side of the ship, examining the large green stone. It was nice. Reminded you of Merlin’s magic. The ship took a sudden turn upwards, and Merlin called out a greeting to someone.

“Holy crap, Gallahad’s still alive?”

“Seems that way,”

“I guess committing treason means you miss the weekly newsletter,”

You missed Douxie’s frown at your angsty humour. He wanted you to know that no matter what Merlin called you, you were no longer a traitor. You wished that could be true.

The ship took another sharp turn, heading for the entrance.

“I say, coming in a little hot, don’t you think?”

“Rubbish!”

“I knew Merlin would be the death of me, but not like this,”

You held on tight as the ship landed, but it wasn’t enough. The impact launched you into Douxie, who managed to catch you, only for you to jump out of his arms, even though you would’ve liked to stay there.

“Sorry,” you whispered, once again straining to avoid murder.

If Merlin didn’t try to execute you for past treasons, he would definitely kill you for murdering his favourite apprentice. Of course, that was only one of several reasons to avoid committing homicide, but it was the most prevalent right now as Merlin caught your eye.

Toby, Steve and Douxie exchanged banter, while you spoke in lower tones with your once master.

“So, you still haven’t gotten over your petty rivalry, have you?

“It’s not that, Master, I-”

“So we’re back to Master, are we?”

“It’s only fitting seeing that we’re back in Camelot,”

“If that’s the case, I should have you killed for treason,”

You weren’t sure if that was a joke or not, but your response was one hundred percent serious, “Please do,”

Merlin turned to you, fairly concerned. He was not expecting that retort, to say the least. But you weren’t looking at him. You were looking back at his apprentice, something he couldn’t name trapped in your gaze.

“Uh, cool floating castle ship,” Toby interrupted both your and Merlin’s train of thought, “But what’s the grave danger you keep talking about?”

Merlin didn’t answer, instead, he looked ahead of him, “Ah, there you are,”

“Claire!”

“Toby!”

“Aarghaumont!”

“Blinky!”

You grinned as your friends hugged each other. It was good for them to be back together again.

“Whoa, hey, Steve’s here, too! How ‘bout- how ‘bout some love for Steve?”

As much as you admired Steve’s growth as a person, you had to cringe, just a little.

“Oh, hi Steve,” Claire said, unimpressed before her eyes turned to you, “(Y/N)! Hi!”

“Hey, Claire, Blink,” you gave a small wave, too emotionally and physically exhausted for anything else at this point.

“What happened to you guys?” Toby asked, frantically taking in Claire and Blinky’s worse for wear appearances, “Wait, where’s Jim?”

The look on Claire’s face told you everything you needed to know.

One room over, Jim was encased in a green crystal… thing.

You knelt to the ground next to Jim’s crystal and immediately began your assessment. The trollhunter’s face, arms and legs seemed to be fine, but a shard of something had embedded itself in his chest. Unfortunately, you recognized it. It was the same thing your captors used to force you into becoming an assassin. It looked like the shard had gotten about halfway in before stopping, completely intact, above Jim’s heart. You didn’t need to be a doctor to know that that wasn’t a good thing, but you were a doctor, and you needed to get a closer look before you could do anything. Before you could get any closer, your attention went back to the conversation taking place between everyone else in the room.

“What happened to him?”

“We were ambushed. Some ancient, dark warrior. An unstoppable knight clad in green,”

Your blood ran cold. You were right. Same knight, same shard, and eventually, same outcome. You didn’t want to think about that. You refused to consider the implications.

“Master, is that the same knight we saw at the bookstore?”

“One and the same,”

You swore under your breath. This could not be happening. You never wanted to deal with your captors ever again, but here they were, knocking at your door and trying to kill more of your friends.

“That onyx shard is working its way towards his heart. I placed the boy in stasis, stalling its progress… for now,”

“But that’s not a permanent solution, is it?” you muttered, deciding to distract yourself from thoughts of the green knight by trying to find a way to fix this problem.

If you removed the shard, it might leave a gaping hole in Jim’s chest, one that would need more than a few stitches, that is if you could pull the shard out at all. You weren’t super sure whether it would disintegrate or not, and if it did, that might kick start whatever possession your captors had planned for Jim.

If you couldn’t remove the shard, stasis was the best idea until you figured out how to remove it. Maybe it could be burnt away? But that might kick start disintegration. No, that would just burn the boy, and impalement was bad enough. You racked your brain, struggling to find a solution. Around you, your friends were talking, but you barely listened. You needed to focus, otherwise, you’d explode from nerves alone.

“If I had my shadow staff, I could have saved him,”

“Who is this Green Knight? How do I get my hands on him?”

“I do not know. The Green Knight said but one name, which chilled me to the bone. Morgana,”

The name of the Eldritch queen caught your attention. You stood up, eyes now focused on Merlin.

“Oh, I hate that lady. But wait, I thought we kicked her bewitched butt to the shadow realm?”

“Which he appeared not to know, but he bore the emblem of Camelot,”

Great. Just great, the last thing you needed was Camelot zombies, and yet, here they were! Merlin took a few steps away from Jim before turning and heading out the door, and into the night. The gang followed though you stayed behind, taking one last look at Jim. You’d failed him. You were supposed to be a doctor, and a protector, but here he was, nearly dead because you left him alone with Merlin for more than two seconds.

“Come with me, quickly. I fear the answer lies in the past,”

You turned away from Jim, following behind the others, avoiding Douxie and staying silent.

“A dark menace is coming, one even I cannot face alone,” The old wizard led you into another tower, stopping at a table in the center and opening up a time map, “You are all now soldiers in a war started centuries ago for the world of magic,”

You scoffed slightly, “Yeah, what else is new,”

Merlin ignored you, “Once, the realms of Magic and Man clashed in endless bloodshed. King Arthur sought to wipe out magic that ravaged the lands in his war against Gunmar,” blue light from the time map displayed images of Arthur and Gunmar as the old wizard spoke.

You turned your eyes to the floor at the sight of your old master. It hadn’t been long since you’d seen the old trolls face, but it still brought a sense of anxiety with it. The Gumm-Gumm king had trained you to be afraid, to be a fighter. He’d pretty much ruined your childhood, but there was no time for angst now. Merlin was still expositing.

“I brought what few spellcasters I could under my protection, to spare them from the sword,”

“Including myself, (Y/N)-”

“That’s technically false,”

“Oh, and Morgana le Fay,”

“She was the finest student I ever taught… until she tried to kill me. Thankfully, in my all-seeing wisdom,” you rolled your eyes again. Merlin kept talking, “I created a secret weapon- the Trollhunter amulet. The war came to a standstill and I imprisoned Morgana at the Battle of Killahead Bridge,”

“Only for her to break out nine hundred years later,”

“Shush,” Merlin finally acknowledged you, “This Green Knight that assailed us was clearly born of dark magicks, but I have no memory of him nor what connection he could have to Morgana,”

You bit your lip, remembering the shard used to curse you. You had a very vague idea of the connection between the Eldritch queen and the Green Knight.

“We know not what he is, nor why he pursues us, though his presence is a dire omen of things to come,”

You also had a decent idea of why the knight was pursuing you. Or, at least pursuing Merlin. If this green knight was, in fact, the same that served your captors, it was likely he was doing their bidding just as you were. With the knight, they’d targeted Merlin directly, or, at the very least his trollhunter. In your case, you’d been sent to kill one of the very few people Merlin actually cared about. Either way, they were coming for Merlin, or for what he had.

Back in your prison, you had two main captors. You’d only briefly met the third, the one they’d lost. From what you’d gathered, the other two assumed she ran to Merlin, and judging by size alone, it was very possible that she was hiding somewhere here, in Camelot.

It was either that, or they were coming after you specifically for not murdering Douxie fast enough, but that didn’t seem likely.

The sound of a bell ringing shook you from your thoughts.

Something hit the side of the castle, knocking everyone to the floor.

“What’s happening?”

“Have you never been under attack before? To the battlements!”

You followed Merlin and the squad outside to see your worst nightmare come to life.

Your once-prison, the ship of your captors, the Arcane Order, rose into view.

“Oh. Fuck,” your eyes widened as you took in the skull-shaped ship for the second time this century.

“Everyone, get to safety! Now!”

Merlin didn’t have to ask you twice. You grabbed whoever was nearest to you and scrambled to find the safest place possible. It was kind of difficult while Camelot shook from each attack, but you managed.

You shoved Toby, Claire and Steve into a small sheltered balcony of sorts, raising your hands and casting a shield around the four of you. Debris bounced off of the magic you’d projected. Merlin was yelling something, but you kept your focus, straining to stay in place as ice hit the ship, forming bridges between the Arcane Order and Camelot. It didn’t work very well. The shield came down around you, but there was no time to set it up again.

The kids ran towards the edge of the ship, their weapons drawn. You followed behind.

“All of a sudden, flying castles aren’t so cool!”

“You said it, Steve,”

The ship shook some more as fire and ice attacked it. You watched, wide-eyed, as the demi-gods who had tortured you for ten years sent blast after blast at what had once been your home.

“We‘ve got to protect Jim! I’m not losing him again!” Claire exclaimed as shadow mephits began to cross the icy bridges connecting them to Camelot.

You took two mephits out with your sword while Toby yelled something about hammers. The four of you continued your fight, taking out as many goblins and shadow mephits as possible. It didn’t take too long for you to clear a path, making your way to Jim and the trolls.

Another blast of ice carved its way into the tower in front of you, forcing you to remember that same ice carving its way into your skin.

“Surrender, Merlin,”

That voice made you want to vomit. You took a few steps back, not even bothering to prepare a spell or level your sword at an opponent. You were somewhere else now.

Fortunately, you didn’t have to do much in terms of freeing the ship. One of the towers crashed into the bridges of ice, releasing Camelot from the Arcane Order’s hold and snapping you out of your traumatized haze.

You followed Claire and Steve up to the main tower, where Douxie was trying his best to steer the ship.

“Please don’t blow us up, please don’t blow us up,”

“We don’t have enough power for the jump!” Archie sounded as panicked as you felt.

“Trust in Merlin!” Scratch that, Douxie’s panicked shouting was much more like you.

“No thanks!”

Green fire surrounded whatever the hell device was controlling the ship, giving it enough power to tear a hole in time and space.

“We have to steer Camelot through the time rift!”

You would have helped if you hadn’t been slammed into one of the railings, left to cling on for your life. That was probably fine, Douxie, Claire and Steve were managing.

“IT ENDS,” it was the green knight’s voice again, “NOW,”

Panic surged through your veins as something hit the ship, tipping it, and sending you all flying. You held onto whatever you could, trying not to freefall through the air. Jim’s crystal nearly fell on you, instead, it fell down and into the time rift, which was probably worse than him just crushing you, but you couldn’t really think of that right now.

“What do we do man?”

“Trust me!” Douxie exclaimed, grabbing Claire and pulling her with him into the rift. You watched them fall, still panicking.

“Whatever, I have nothing better to do,” you joked, trying to calm your nerves. It wasn’t working. You let go and fell through the night and into a different time.

The sky changed.

It was daytime now.

You were still falling though.

“This is gonna hurt!”

“It- Does- Hurt!” Steve voiced your thoughts perfectly.

The wind was knocked from your lungs as you hit blue forcefield after blue forcefield and then the ground. The landing was pretty rough, but the good news was you were all alive.

The four of you remained lying on the ground for a moment before Steve began to freak out, something about being blind, before he was hit in the head with Jim’s crystal tomb.

The boy groaned, “What just happened?”

“Well, I just conjured an anti-gravity spell to slow our fall and keep us from dying. You’re welcome,”

“Thanks for not letting us die a horrible, horrible death, Casperan,” you said, sitting up. You did a quick check to make sure nothing was broken before you realized. You didn’t have an innate drive to murder the wizard anymore. You laughed a little, realizing the curse was broken, for now at least.

“(Y/N)? You okay, love?”

“I am much better than okay,” You turned to see Douxie’s very concerned face, elated to find that you didn’t want to kill him anymore, “I’ll explain later,”

“Douxie,” Claire asked, calling your attention to her, “Where is the flying castle?”

“Oh, fuzzbuckets! Well, it would appear we’ve had ourselves a temporal accident,”

“Which means?”

Douxie didn’t have time to answer before a sword was pointed at his throat. It wasn’t yours though, so that was nice.

You looked around to see your little group surrounded by guards, all of them with weapons pointing at you.

“It means, that we are lost in time,”

“Motherfu-”

#hisirdoux x reader #hisirdoux casperan x reader #douxie x reader #douxie imagine #hisirdoux imagine #almost a thousand years #aaty #angst #hisirdoux #hisirdoux casperan #douxie #toa douxie #toa hisirdoux #mentions of torture

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faedawayyy · 4 years ago

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og verse: my plans for the guys.

this gif of chloe is nothing to do with this but i love the bratz lol. triggering topics below! read with caution.

DALLAS JACKSON, 23, third year.

SECRET: he deals drugs. the jacksons are in the circle of wealthy families in violet springs alongside the calloways, hamiltons, carmichaels, barhams sinclairs etc.but they’re bankrupt, the family has a lot of dark secrets and the main one is that his dad is an addict to both gambling and drugs, to the point where their family is now bankrupt and loaning tons of money from other families are dodgy loan-sharks. the pressure from being the main bread-winner of the family has turned dallas into somebody he never set out to be.

WHERE HE IS ATM: mentally, dallas is on a rocky road to health. he’s still addicted to drugs himself but after a very messy break-up with zara and a messier one with soraya, he’s working closely with friends to focus on his career and try to at least get his mental health in the right place. MY PLANS: another downfall is literally inevitable, it’s dallas. i do think he’ll build himself back up to be huge, though, but he has a lot of resentment to a lot of people and can count on both hands the people he actually likes at st judes. i think there’ll be a lot more of OG dallas; hurting people/arguing with those he doesn’t care about etc. UP COMING PROJECT: justice the album.

MASON CARMICHAEL, 26, fifth year.

SECRET: mason is the only child in the carmichael family who knows that their dad isn’t dead. after getting too close to being tied to a very serious money laundering case, he took his stroke in 2019 as a route out. however, he kept in touch with mason knowing he’s probably the most trustworthy to keep his whereabouts a secret. mason is sitting on the information but it’s getting harder and harder to do when he sees how much the loss of such a key figure is affecting him.

WHERE HE IS ATM: at the moment, mason and kendall have been trying to start a family and he’s also found out that amy is his daughter. this threw him into a huge dilemma and he clashed extremely hard with madison over it. there are still hard feelings - and towards bash, who was just given the role of amy’s father despite mason knowing nothing about it. MY PLANS: i think mason is going to want to see amy more and more despite knowing kendall isn’t hot on the idea/neither is madison to an extent. depending on how everything goes, he’ll definitely take madison to caught for joint custody of amy seeing as he’s never refused to be her dad or acknowledge her - he was just never told. UP COMING PROJECT: princesses, the franchise.

BRODY CARMICHAEL, 25, fourth year.

SECRET: brody has very publicly become a father. he and disney have had their relationship watched by the world since they started high school musical at 14. on the outside, he has everything together. he’s the alpha male type; not that that’s great; think the character taylor plays in her “the man” video and pretty untouchable. on the inside, he’s seriously grieving the loss of his dad and isn’t coping well with the pressure of a new family. his drinking problem happens very much behind closed doors and is straining his marriage but divorce isn’t a marriage, both of them are way too invested in being the world’s most perfect couple.

WHERE HE IS ATM: he’s already had a warning from the hospital that another binge like he’s had could be the end of him and he’s on a very stern plan to become sober. again, nobody actually knows this so he’s kind of recovering in silence but i think he’ll genuinely get better.

MY PLANS: it’ll take a long time but he’ll definitely get better. i don’t think plots always have to be about characters spiralling. i’m also planning for him to see his dad by mistake or something of the sort. i feel like a lot of people will assume he’s high/drunk and it’ll really fuck with him but i haven’t sat and thought out of the details.

UP COMING PROJECT: neighbours 2: sorority rising

BLAKE CRUZ, 23, third year.

SECRET: he watched his brother die. blake didn’t really know what was happening at the time but when he was 12, his older brother charlie was 16. he’d come in after a night of sneaking out and crept back into their shared room as usual. blake was still awake and heard he was clearly drunk, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary. he only knew something was seriously wrong when he fell asleep, and then woke up a few hours later and realised charlie was unconcious on top of his bed, still in his clothes - he never just passed out and always got ready for bed; even when completely wasted. he finally called for his parents but it was too late. by morning, charlie was pronounced dead and blake is living with the guilt of not saying anything because he didn’t want to get his brother in trouble. instead, he just let him die. he still hasn’t come to terms with it and tells charlie’s old friends that his death was undetermined instead. WHERE HE IS ATM: blake is very good at burying his memories of charlie and focuses on his relationship and career to stop him from falling down a rabbit hole of guilt and self blame. he’s focused on his new marriage and releasing music with the 5SOS boys, although he’s had his own projects in the works for a very long time - he just doesn’t know how to go about it. UP COMING PROJECTS: CALM, 5sos.

OTIS KINGSTON, 21, second year.

SECRET: otis actually wants to become a teacher. he’s enrolled in the academy for acting after his uncle pushed him towards doing it and he’s had moderate success but his true passion lies in teaching others and being out of the spotlight. that’s why he’s very slowly failing on purpose; he wants to be a seventh year and be given more normal career paths. it might have something to do with the fact that he was having an affair with his older brother’s girlfriend who also failed her final year and is currently a student teacher. his brother never bothers with her so it makes it easy for the two of them to sneak around.

WHERE HE IS ATM: otis is very good at pretending. he puts on such a show that when he loses out or doesn’t get a role, people think he’s GENUINELY upset when in reality, he probably did it on purpose. he feels a little bad taking the spot from someone who wants it, but he did what he needs to do.

UP COMING PROJECTS: euphoria (?)

NATE HARWOOD, 23, third year.

SECRET: nate never got into st judes to begin with. he cheated himself in by changing some of his exam results in high school. a good friend of his tried to push him to do the right thing and consider his other options but nate was fixated on getting into the school, along with two more of his friends who initially failed. his friend threatened him and told him that he’d let their professors know if he went through with it. to stop him getting anywhere near, nate and his friends spiked his drink to get him too drunk to remember on prom night; however, he was so drunk he fell down a huge staircase outside the venue on the fire escape and ended up paralysed from the waist down.

WHERE HE IS ATM: nate has more or less buried the high school mistake but every now and then it comes back to haunt him. at the moment, he’s just making music and doing his best to live the dream he risked WAY too much for.

UP COMING PROJECTS: a good friend is nice

DARIUS RICHARDS, 24, fourth year.

SECRET: darius is actually a west ivy’s student. he was selected by his principle to secretly enroll in st judes to check out the competition. he’s also behind a lot of the sabotages that have been happening in the school (including the up and coming fire). his main aim is to make sure that west ivy’s is better than st judes in everyway, no matter what it takes.

WHERE HE IS ATM: he’s hiding in plain sight. nobody suspects a thing from him. darius is being extra careful with the projects he releases and to always stay a little bit below complete stardom - it makes it easier for him to navigate and do things unnoticed. but, he has met people he genuinely likes too and does his best to save them from sabotage.

UP COMING PROJECTS: starboy

TATE SIMPSON, 26, fifth year.

SECRET: back to the tragedy in his home...it’s true that tate was never harmed by anyone growing up; not physically, anyway. but that doesn’t mean his home was perfect. his parents were young when they had him and he grew up with little money. this put a lot of strain on them and his dad couldn’t deal with it. he resorted to cheating, drinking and being wildly abusive. there were mornings tate turned up at school without sleeping because he’d been up all night hearing his parent’s argue and fight. it escalated. his father moved on to beating his mother and he’d feel helpless. one night while they were arguing, the fire alarm went off due to them leaving the oven on and it stopped them. so, the next time the fighting got severe and tate heard his mother being beat again, he had an idea. he grabbed a lighter from his parents bedroom and set fire to one of his stuffed animals to set the fire alarm off - it did, and his parents stopped arguing, but not before the fire had spread across the top floor of their home. the fire brigade rescued tate and his father, but not his mother. she passed away and he’s blamed himself ever since. nobody ever found the real case, but that doesn’t make it much better for him.

WHERE HE IS ATM: he’s new and just starting out!

UP COMING PROJECTS: big time adolescence

MARCUS CARMICHAEL, 26, fifth year.

SECRET: marcus is often used as his uncle’s scapegoat. james never wanted to get leo, mason or brody too tied into the shadier side of the family business so marcus; child of a single mother and secretly desperate for an in to their world was the perfect candidate. he’s never minded either, to be honest. if he gets paid for shifting some money around or scamming a big time director, so be it. however, the last job he did for james was way too intense, even for him. it included the trafficking of janey and collecting the money made off of her. he had a chance to save her, he knows that, but not without exposing his uncle’s dark secrets. he was never DIRECTLY involved but he knows that doesn’t make him any better.

WHERE HE IS ATM: marcus is focusing on his acting career and making a conscious effort to be better and stay out of trouble. with ghosts from his past constantly showing up, though, it really is proving to be difficult.

UP COMING PROJECTS: hemlock grove

ANTHONY HENSHAW, 27, fifth year.

SECRET: anthony is a stalker. he fixates on people and it gets intense. after being bullied in high school, he latches on to the people who’re nice to him and reads too much into small acts of kindness. he can actually be incredibly dangerous; not many people have noticed yet.

WHERE HE IS ATM: he’s currently fixated on natasha but always open for more.

UP COMING PROJECTS: probably some kind of deal with spotlight to shoot different students idk

KRISTOFER NILSEN, 27, fifth year.

I’LL DO HIM WHEN I CBA

PHILIP LAWSON, 27, fifth year.

SECRET: the stunt at the calloway isn’t random. his dad persuaded him to get it in order to get more information on gerald and more specifically, his account details. believe it or not, philip has already managed to access one of his minor accounts after snooping through a secret office of his, but it only had hundreds in there. he’s ok though; he’s ready to play the long game - and steal from all his less privacy-savy friends while he’s waiting.

WHERE HE IS ATM: just starting out!

UP COMING PROJECTS: big time adolescence/bloom

JUDE BAKER, 18, first year.

SECRET: he’s family are super broke, but he doesn’t let on TOO much. everybody in town knows that his family own the motel that’s on the border of violet springs and london, but that leads to people assuming he’s quite well off or at least average which is how he likes it. his dad is way too carried away with his dream of being a hotel owner which has lead to the baker family selling everything. he literally lives in the motel and really doesn’t have much else to report on.

WHERE HE IS ATM: he’s quiet, anxious and i feel like he’d have one friend who isn’t exactly popular either. all through attending springs park, he was bullied by assholes and st judes was meant to be his fresh start, but he’s realised everybodys worse and with a bigger ego. he keeps himself to himself and is just tries not to be a target.

UP COMING PROJECTS: stranger things >:)

EZRA HUGHES, 25, fourth year.

AGAIN I’LL DO IT WHEN I CBB

#save #I LOVE THEM SO MUCH NOBODY GETS IT #character saves

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cursedcataclysm · 4 years ago

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@moonbowphobia I wanted to write something for the murder mystery AU, and it was also the perfect opportunity to procrastinate on my physics lab, so here this is! It’s just a short little piece about Wilbur arriving at the mansion- obviously not canon and it probably won’t fit into whatever plot you come up with, but I hope you like it!

Balmy summer air, that’s the first thing that Wilbur notices when he steps out of the limousine. Warm and tinted with sunshine, and when he licks his lips he can taste the fragrance seeping from the pink roses twisting around the wrought-iron gates. They’re a little too perfect, petals curling at the edges, and Wilbur plucks one from the framework, thorns pricking are his fingers.

It’s soft against his skin, milky water dripping from the stem and collapsing to the path beneath him. There’s something fragile and beautiful about it, when it’s lying on its deathbed in his hand. He’s the grim reaper holding a scythe, and the flower is reaching towards the light at the end of the tunnel, wondering if there’s another side. Death is patient, and so is he, although maybe in a different way.

There’s a clock ticking somewhere, and Wilbur spares a glance at the watch strapped around his left wrist. He’s late, enough to call it fashionable, enough that he can hear the voices of the others echoing inside. There’s laughter, and Wilbur can already feel the atmosphere dripping from the windowsills, the candlelight spilling down onto the garden path. It’s almost tangible, the way their personalities emanate from the house, the way Wilbur knows exactly how he fits into the picture.

Tommy is waiting, like always, and Wilbur knows he should be in there with him. He is his chaperone, after all. It’s a role he plays willingly, although there are some days where he wishes he wasn’t front and center stage. He’s been handed the costume so many times he forgets what it was like before, when his choices felt like his own.

That’s the problem with feelings, he thinks, slipping the rose into his lapel with deft fingers. You always have more to lose, that he knows for certain, and it comes back to haunt him during the in-between, the hazy hours between midnight and morning.

There’s a butler pulling on the heavy wooden doors for him, and Wilbur tilts his head in acknowledgement, feeling his easy manner slide back into place. He wonders what it’s like, to be on the edge like this, there but not really. Opening doors but never going through them. Is it better like that, to be impartial in the worst way?

Wilbur thinks he’d rather have the choice, he’d rather hold himself back. That way the only one he has to blame is himself, in the end. He’s trapped in a cage of his own expectations, and it’s him holding the key. Disappointing himself is easier than disappointing the others.

The butler is gone now, only a meter away but he’s on the other side of the door and the other side of the party, and Wilbur is standing alone in the hall. When he catches his reflection in the mirror, he’s almost unrecognizable, standing against gilded ceilings and blood red carpet. It’s strange here, feeling displaced yet fitting right in. There’s something lifeless about the walls, and if Wilbur stands still enough he’s just another symbol of wealth, just another statue perched in a carved marble alcove.

“Champagne, sir?” a voice asks, and Wilbur turns to see another butler, this one holding a tray of sparkling glass flutes, glass thinner than air and filled with false promises and false highs. There’s something just as lifeless about the butler, and Wilbur wonders if that’s the price you pay for luxury. Somewhere along the way you lose everything.

There’s people through the doors at the end of the corridor, fragments of an abstract painting, and he only catches glimpses- a green tie, a flash of tousled blond hair, a hand on someone’s shoulder. He’s already getting caught up in the shine of the chandeliers, the peals of laughter, the music soaking into the walls, and maybe it won’t hurt to lose himself in it all for tonight. It was a twelve hour plane ride after all, although he wears it well.

The butler has disappeared, leaving Wilbur with a glass balanced in his left hand. He barely remembers picking it up, and he glances at the mirrored walls again- something has changed, something immaterial. He’s not sure what it is, if it’s the light or the champagne or the noise, but the walls feel alive now. There’s a pulse, the pounding of his heart, the thrum of people in once-empty rooms. Emptying one thing just to fill another.

Are you ready? a voice asks, and Wilbur thinks it’s his, but he’s not sure. He’s already drowning in the emotions he once tried so hard to keep at bay.

He’s never really ready, he never has been. There’s not enough time in life to be ready, he tells himself when it all gets to be too much. He goes in headfirst and he makes it to the other side.

The others are waiting, the voice says again, and Wilbur allows himself a small smile. He’s missed his friends, more than he wants to admit, and there’s something exhilarating about dressing up and putting on his best clothes and partying the night away. Maybe he’ll wake up hungover tomorrow, alone except for a glass of water and the broken memories of the night before, but it’s worth it, to be happy for a night.

He adjusts his suit once more, tightens his tie, touches his fingertips to the rose in his lapel, cards his fingers through his hair.

The walls are watching as he walks through the doors, grin splitting his face, and the chandeliers are a little brighter now, the music a little bit louder. He’s all the way under now, all the way in, no leaving now- not that he wants to, not when he’s surrounded by his friends and downing a glass of champagne. Not when the loneliness wears off a little for the first time in months.

The walls watch and they wait, and somewhere in the dark somebody laughs. Death is patient, they think, shrugging on a suit coat of their own and smoothing their tie. Wise words, Wilbur. The others will laugh and drink and feast tonight, and they’ll allow themselves to join in for a bit. Tonight is about them, after all. They’ll let themselves hold on for a little while longer.

And then?

Well, then it’ll all be over.

Everybody has their secrets, after all.

#wilbur #wilbur soot #mcyt #mcyt au #murder mystery au #my writing

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vmheadquarters · 5 years ago

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We’re still playing our game of written hot potato! Dozens of your favorite authors are taking turns to tell a Veronica Mars mystery story. Each writer crafts their chapter and then “tosses” the story to the next person to continue the tale. No one knows what will happen, so expect the unexpected!

Follow the “vmhq presents” and “murder we wrote” tags for all the installments, or read the story as it develops on AO3. --Chapter Twenty-One of MURDER, WE WROTE is written by @DRiver2u. And stayed tuned next week for Ch.22 from @amypc1 - tag, you’re it!

—————————————————————————————————— CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE by @DRiver2u

The noise in the room was a low pulse of small groups talking among themselves. The conversations were not enthusiastic or lighthearted, but the former classmates were speaking just to have something to do. Whenever the din let up, someone new took over with a tale from the exploits of high school past. No one wanted to admit that, now they had eaten, there was time to start exploring the mansion for a murderer.

Hovering off to the side, as she so often did in social situations, Veronica's thoughts were exploding as quickly as she felt her ankle swelling. Her injury didn't hurt as much as she thought it should, and she wondered if she was in shock, rather than having an actual physical ailment. She plotted about how to move to another part of the house, so she could test the theories running through her brain. The crowded space in her mind needed an escape, and if she was being honest with herself, it wasn't the only part of her that needed a release.

She caught Logan's eye as he looked up from the drone of Casey's story, and she gave a quick tip of her head towards the direction of the kitchen. "Meet me there," she mouthed from across the room as she pointed with her pinky finger. She assessed her wonky situation and dropped her elevated foot, rolled to her stomach, and one-legged-downward-facing-dog walked herself to a standing position. For a moment, she steadied herself, using one flat foot and the tips of her toes on the other before trying her balance. She hobbled on her bad ankle and made a comment under her breath, just loud enough for the scrum of former classmates in the middle of the room to hear her complain.

"You rang," Logan quipped, as he turned to see her push through the kitchen door. "Or muttered, I guess would be more accurate." He watched as she moved from limping to balancing herself on the kitchen counter, and then doing a half-twisting boost onto the island. The gymnastics of the moves were worthy of more than a participation certificate. Logan studied her as she forced out a sigh and regained her composure. His mind filled with other uses for those skills. "Your powers never cease to amaze."

"I need some ice for my ankle, but I've been thinking, and I might want to reconsider something," Veronica cooed as her finger made its way between her teeth. Before Logan could head towards the freezer, she commanded, "Come closer."

Logan advanced and slid between her dangling legs. Veronica's citrus shampoo, the acid from the tomato ragu, and the yeast from a green bottle of Heineken left near the Belfast sink sent mixed signals to his brain. This wasn't the time or the place, what with the dead bodies, secret passages, and unknown assailants only a few feet from what he hoped would be their suction-cupped bodies, but he couldn't stop the fantasies entering his brain. Veronica stared into his eyes, hoping he would be able to read her mind. The drip of the faucet and the hiss of the radiator under the stained glass windows broke their silence.

As Logan leaned in to kiss the blonde in front of him, he felt the cool thickness of the marble countertop as it hit him just below his waistband. His mouth hovered near her lips, but he turned his head and teased her with the breeze that swept by her mouth. She grabbed the back of his neck demanding to be closer to him, to touch his sweetness. He was stronger than her, and pulled back, watching as her eyes slid shut. As his hands wrapped around her waist and his thumbs pushed into her hips, she let out a small whimper and her breathing quickened.

It was the panting and the moaning that made him pull her closer. He wanted this, she wanted this, but they had made a deal to slow things down this time. He could wait. Could he wait? Anticipation was a hell of an aphrodisiac.

When he finally kissed her, would she taste like roasted garlic, red wine, dried Parmesan cheese, or chocolate mousse? Whatever was left of their dinner would be lost as his mind cleared of all but the softness of her lips. Logan gazed into Veronica's eyes before kissing her wordlessly. Only seconds later, Veronica released her hands from his hair and scrambled to tug his thermal base layer from the waist of his trousers and ran her hands towards his brawny chest, feeling multiple indentations as her fingers spread.

"We need to reconsider that we may have only two days left to live, so three dates seems too long to wait to get naked," she said, at a much higher volume than Logan found desirable. He tilted his head as he tried to shake the noise and vibration out of his eardrum.

"I think you're out of practice on the whispering of sweet nothings," Logan grumbled. "The key to that phrase being 'whispering', sugarpuss."

Veronica reached up and took his face in her hands, then bent the side of his head towards her mouth. "We're being watched, right?" Logan nodded his head and wondered if this new taste for voyeurism would be part of their future escapades. He swallowed at the thought and caught himself breathing harder than only a few seconds ago. Veronica continued her train of thought in his ear. "Let's find out if this is really about us. They're watching, so if they see us, uh you know, all hot and heavy, they may try to break in and stop it."

Logan dropped his head, realizing this was nothing more than part of the game, part of her desire to solve this riddle. "I don't know if I feel like a mark, the bait, or a damsel in distress." He swallowed and took a deep breath.

Veronica kissed him softly and met his eyes. She didn't need words to explain to him that her brain was working overtime. It wasn't desire he had seen in her eyes when they started this rendezvous. But it was passion--just not the kind of passion he was hoping to experience.

"Enid Curtis," Veronica whispered again and gave him a mischievous smile before returning to his ear. "How many people do you know who are named Enid? Not one, I bet. Enid Curtis and Mason. Flip them letters around and what'd ya get? DIES UNROMANTICS." She gave him a quick kiss at his temple, but she wanted to give him a high five.

Logan chuckled before bending his head and raising his eyes to meet hers. "A bit of a grammar cock up, wouldn't you say?" He paused and tilted his head until his mouth met her ear, his hands continued to meander under her shirt. "If you're going to slip down the Enid path, it seems impossible not to bring up Tennyson. You should know to leave the English stuff to me."

Veronica inched away from him and stared at Logan. "So, you think there's a book on one of the shelves by Alfred, Lord Tennyson that'll help solve this riddle?" she asked in a low voice.

"Well, I'm more of a Keats guy myself, but it's tough not to respect a guy who came up with the lines, and I'm paraphrasing here, 'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all' and 'Theirs is not to reason why. Theirs is but to do and die'." Logan turned the words over in his mind. Loss and death weren't nearly as appealing to him as Keats' haunting words about beauty, joy, love, and truth.

"Yeah, it's the 'do and die' part that makes me a bit worried," Veronica chided. "And what's that got to do with Enid?"

"I'm saying that Tennyson wrote Idylls of the King. In it is a poem about the perfect love Enid has for her husband." Veronica stared blankly at him before he continued. "He gets jealous, but she stays faithful. He thinks she cheated, but she stays faithful. He treats her like dirt, but she stays faithful. Seeing a pattern?"

"So Enid is perfect?" Veronica asked with a sly smile.

"It used to be a real compliment for a woman to be referred to as an 'Enid'," Logan remembered from a group project about Victorian poets. Who knew those trivialities might one day prove to be important?

Logan continued after a small pause, clearing his throat. "Oh, and Tennyson influenced the Pre-Raphaelite artists with his sumptuous verses. God, they painted some majestic stuff. Dead women, lots of flowing hair, unrequited love. Come to think of it, one was even of Enid, I think." He smiled at the idea of his mother and said, "First ones I saw were at Andrew Lloyd Webber's estate, because my mom dragged me there when she was desperate to get a part in a possible West End Cats revival."

"Keats, Tennyson, and Raffi," Veronica scrambled, only half listening to the other voice in the room. "I don't see the connection. Unless someone thinks I'm the perfect mate?" Veronica's mind danced with the knowledge that she may have an admirer rather than a stalker. She heard Logan snicker and watched as he shook his head.

"Raphaelites, bobcat, but who am I to doubt the perfect bit," he mocked with a chuckle. "Maybe Enid and Tennyson mean nothing. Maybe you were on the right track with the scrambled letters. Or maybe this mysterious host is telling you to ask others for help with this riddle. 'There's no I in team', 'It takes teamwork to make the dream work', 'Collaborate before we evaporate'. Etcetera, etcetera."

Veronica squinted at him, but only grunted out a, "Huh?"

"OK, maybe I made some of those up," Logan laughed. "But we're all here for a reason, and I don't think it's just to be dead bodies, cute faces, or red herrings." They both stayed quiet a moment and realized their musings had blown their cover. Their so-called tryst had turned into a book club.

"Ice," Veronica directed, and Logan grabbed the hand towel near the stove as he sauntered towards the industrial-sized refrigerator. "But now what?"

"Lead on, perfect Enid," he quipped. He took a deep breath as he felt Veronica going back into her brain. "OK. If you want to stick with rearranging letters, we can do that, but I prefer NUDES IS ROMANTIC."

#veronica mars #veronica mars fanfic #vm fanfic #vmhq presents #murder we wrote #round robin

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twdmusicboxmystery · 5 years ago

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TWD 10x10: Stalker - First Thoughts

Wow! Just wow! Okay, in terms of moving the plot forward, this might seem like a low-key episode. And plot wise, it KIND of was. Or at least it feels that way on the surface. Really, what happened here will probably end up being super important.

So, the episode pretty much held what we thought it would: no Beth sightings, but CRAZY symbolism. The biggest thing for me was the dialogue. I felt like every line was either a Beth repeat, or if not specifically that, just SUPER thematic and important.

As always, I’ll just throw out some of the things that jumped out at me most on first watch. Tomorrow, I’ll talk details.

***And as always, spoilers abound for 10x10 below. Don’t read until you’ve watched! You’ve been warned!***

So, at the beginning when Rosita and FG question Gamma, there are some interesting references. They mention worms (Worm Theory), that there will be no second chances, which is a Beth theme (rather her is pro-second chance/faith, but this is still along those same lines) and FG says if they kill Gamma, she’ll be the third whisperer to die at their hands. There was literally no reason for him to mention that. I’ll talk more about what I think this means tomorrow.

Then there was this interesting shot. After Gamma breaks down and tells them she killed her sister, she says, “Do you believe me now, father?” He nods, but when he does, it ONLY shows his one eye. The cloudy one. The Sirius eye. It’s a really haunting image (and sort of Terminator-ish).

I had to rewind and listen to what they were talking about when they did that shot, and it was this line about him believing her. So I’m seeing two things there.

1) The belief/have faith theme.

2) But I also wonder if something about this incident will set things into motion that will lead to the Sirius return (i.e. Beth).

And in a way, that’s kind of my biggest takeaway from this episode. Lots of details, symbols, dialogue, etc., but overall, what happened here really didn’t move the plot forward in a huge way. Daryl got hurt, but Lydia rescued him. Beta came to get Gamma, but she ultimately got away and is one of the good guys now. A few people died, but no mainstream characters. See what I mean?

There is the thing Alpha says about not being weak anymore. So obviously she’ll pull out all the stops, now. All bets are off and the war is about to become a lot more brutal. Daryl also talks to Lydia and she mentions that all this time she’s been in the woods, watching both sides and “deciding.” He asks, “deciding what?” and she doesn’t say, but I think the idea is that everyone has to take a side now. Where Daryl was trying to keep the peace before, and Alpha was PRETENDING to keep the peace, and Lydia was being all conflicted and indecisive, everyone is drawing lines in the sand, now.

So even though it kind of FELT like a low-key episode, I bet at some point we return to and can say this was the moment that led to the shit hitting the fan.

When Daryl first fights Alpha, the ravine by the river looks a LOT like the one from S2 where he hallucinated Merle. I don’t know if we should read into that, but it’s what it reminded me of. And when he gets hit and they do the red, tunnel vision, it looks a lot like FG’s vision when he first lost his sight, but it’s very red-tinged.

Do you remember in S6, especially, when they did those red promos? They usually meant death. Like they did them for 6x09, which as where Jessie, Ron and Sam died.

If this was anyone other than Daryl/Norman, I’d say it was a death omen. But we know better on that count. But I do feel like it could be symbolic. Like he’s about to hit emotional/psychological death again. Maybe because of Connie. Maybe because of Carol. There’s a line where Alpha talks to him. They’re both badly hurt and lying fifteen feet apart. She says, “Can you see beyond the darkness, into the light.” He answers, “No.”

Thematic much?

The part where she talks about seeing people she’s lost was interesting, but they also didn’t focus overly much about that line. I actually felt like it was more of a see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil theme. She talks about seeing people, but the people aren’t really there. Or at least not physically. So that’s the sight reference. Then she gets mad at Daryl for what he says about her not loving Lydia (the speak reference.) And as she gets up, presumably to attack him, though she collapses, she says, “I’m all ears.”

During that part, she also says, “Pain made me. Pain made you.” (Talking to Daryl.) I thought that was an interesting line. The greatest survivors are the ones who’ve been through the most pain. That’s always been true of Daryl.

And I feel more strongly than ever that Lydia is a stand in for Beth. Which makes me really happy. Many of us have had head canons about Beth saving Daryl before. Lydia shows up in a blue and white shirt (pretty sure we saw her in it once before) and carrying Daryl’s crossbow. She’s pretty much the image of Beth, who he trained, showing up to save him.

And again, Beth’s saving might be more emotional. He’ll go through some kind of psychological death and she’ll show up to save him. I feel like that’s where this is going. (Not that I would mind her saving him physically as well. ;D)

When Lydia shows up, Alpha says, “You came home.” So that’s specifically part of the Home/North Star/Sirius theme.

We also see Lydia and Alpha being the opposite of Beth and Carol. When Lydia is leaning over Alpha, she says, “I’m not here for them. I’m not here for you.”

That’s the opposite of Beth taking Carol’s hand and saying, “I just wanted you to know I was here.”

In terms of plot, we don’t know where Beta is right now—he ran off into the woods—and a big group, including Rosita and Aaron—just left Alexandria. That can’t be good.

We also don’t get any hints about Connie and Magna. I gotta say, it doesn’t seem like Alpha has them. It’s always possible some of her other people have them and she doesn’t know it yet, but it really didn’t seem like she had them captive.

Okay, I have lots more to say, but it’ll have to wait for tomorrow. Hope this is enough to get you excited. 😉

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

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snowycrocus · 5 years ago

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Frozen Fanfiction “Such a Cost” Ch.7

Elsa Sacrifices her Magic to Save Anna

Start with these first: part one part two part three part four part five part six

Finished this a lot earlier than anticipated! Sooo excited to hear what you think...now the plot thickens (though maybe it was already pretty thick) and I do believe that you may see where this is leading now...let me know!

----------------------

Did it hurt, she wondered?

Her slender fingers burn with the biting cold but she forces them back into the ground to mold themselves around yet another snowball.

It hurt when her powers were ripped from her. She told Anna she doesn't remember, but she only said that because it sounds better than "it felt like my soul was being torn out through my skin."

She cups her hands to pack the small flakes together into a recognizable shape. But the snow isn't the right consistency, and it flakes off the sides, so she digs her hands in again.

Did Olaf feel it when she gave up her magic? Did he feel his snowy soul torn out of his snowy body? Or was it more of a numb disintegration?

No gloves. She doesn't need them, she tells herself, even after the stinging and burning goes away to be replaced by a frozen numbness. She tries to flex and bend them and it's hard. It hurts.

And Marshmallow had been so big, she remembers fondly. Did he fall from that height into pieces, she wonders, falling to the snow-covered ground with earth-shattering thumps?

She painfully forces her fingers to curl and scoops yet another crumbly snowball. The pain is gone now, replaced by deathlike numbness. The cold can't hurt her now. Just like before.

Before....

She places the most recent snowball on top of the other two bigger ones. They're lopsided, uneven. Pieces that didn't stick properly slide down. She looks around for some sticks for arms but can't find any.

She settles on some black pebbles she finds.

At least he's got eyes, she thinks, walking away and cradling her stiff, dripping, numb hands.

------------------

Apparently it was a bad idea to pour hot water over her freezing hands.

But they had been so cold, so stiff, and hot is good against cold, right?

But maybe it was too much, the near-boiling water droplets still steaming off her now-thawed hands, because her skin has turned red and raw and the numbing coldness has been replaced by a terrible burning sensation.

She feels like she'll never get the hang of having to regulate her own body temperature.

Once she has the use of her fingers once more, she proceeds with the task of containing her long, chestnut locks into a bun.

She misses her braid. She tried it, once, after the change. But it wasn't her anymore. That braid was for Elsa, the Snow Queen.

Besides, she can't freeze her bangs back anymore, and it's a daily struggle to secure them so they don't hang in her eyes.

She should just cut them, she knows, but she cannot bear the thought and embarrassment of asking someone to cut one of her old key features.

So a work-like bun it must be. She painstakingly twists her hair until it's just the right shape and size at the nape of her neck, taking care to secure it properly with a handful of scalp-piercing pins so her bangs don't get in the way.

There. Done. She sighs at her reflection in the mirror. She looks like she did in the Before, when her powers hadn't yet been revealed. Hopeless.

And tired. There are dark bags under her eyes that won't be hidden by makeup no matter how much she tries. It reminds her of mother, after... everything happened with her as a child. The deep, haunted look and sad exhaustion she carried with her. It was from the consequences of her powers that her mother wore that look.

Her mother died searching for answers for her.

Maybe, Elsa thinks, reaching for one more pin for a flyaway piece of hair, it's not the searching that will kill her, but the answer she chose.

------------------

Alliances remain stable.

She blinks at the report from one of her spies once more and releases a breath she hadn't known she was holding. With her powers gone and Arendelle now reliant on their tiny and yet-untested military, she and her advisors had been most concerned about the possibility of attack.

In the Before, when she had had her powers, she had never truly considered her ability to protect her country. Now, with them gone, she realizes just what a wild card she had held in her very hands.

But that card had been played; forfeited to the bottom of the pile to never be drawn again.

But so far, things were looking consistent. She trusted her spies and the news they sent. She wished she could use her spies everywhere; send them places and let them visit and talk to people in her place so that she never had to leave the safe space of her bedroom and office once more.

She couldn't believe she would think that - she never wanted to be confined to such small quarters after having lived such a restricted life as a child and young woman.

But now, the desire to stay hidden wasn't due to the need to hide her magic - it was the need to escape the constant scrutiny and reminders of what she had lost.

Her council didn't seem to hold her in high regard anymore. They had begun to talk over her in meetings, wouldn't heed her opinions. It seemed that as a woman, she had only been respected before due to the danger and threat of her magic.

All her staff and guards would still stare. She couldn't escape their gazes, the mixed looks of sympathy and curiosity.

Outside the castle was the worst. Some would stare, others would point, and perhaps worst of all was that most didn't even recognize her. She never wanted the fame, didn't like being looked at or bowed to obsequiously all the time. But it made her physical changes all the more obvious when people ignored her in the streets or even bumped into her, oblivious to the guards around her or her high-class attire.

If she didn't feel like herself, and didn't look like herself...who was she? She didn't know anymore.

She threw herself into her work to distract herself at all costs. Work made her feel like nothing had ever changed, and she could simply immerse herself in numbers and treaties and contracts.

But what she hadn't realized was that containing her powerful, unruly magic had taken up a great deal of her mental strain. Keeping her powers controlled had occupied her. Now that that need was gone, that part of her mind roamed freely, flitting instead between what she had lost and guilt over feeling like she had lost something when she had in fact gained back her sister.

She shook her head to attempt to clear her swarming thoughts of despair and dipped her pen into the inkwell. She tried to keep her hands from shaking as she wrote her thanks to her spy with instructions to continue his espionage.

----------

"They're gone?"

"Completely."

"Are you sure?"

"I am." He nods curtly, his thin lips broadening into a sly smile.

"So she's normal? Not a threat?"

He raises one eyebrow. "Normal? No, never has been, you know what I've said on that matter. In terms of a threat? No, there is none." He meets the other's gaze and taps the table with a single finger to emphasize each word. "Powerless. Defenseless. Vulnerable."

The other man rises, drawing a pin from a small box on his desk and sticks it triumphantly into a spot on the military map.

Arendelle.

-----------------------

Alright, so someone tell me you see where this is going now. 😂 Thank you all sooooo much for reading. I love you all and love to hear what you think. Also, I miiiiight be able to have the next chapter up in a week or two.

Tagging readers of previous chapters:

@everrealmdweller @wintermoonqueen @justlookatthosesausages @above-d-clouds @humster-inside @lelitachay @maregnbue @superstarfishy97 @ellacarter13 @wintermoonqueen @ilongtogointotheunknown @welovefrozenfanfiction @egoeas @frozenlover2005 @the-sky-is-awake @arendelve @habibi18 @etienna @aqueenthatisfrozen @frozen-heart101 @melody-fox @frozenartscapes @butimaloneandfree @wandering-bard-from-the-id

#elsa #anna #frozen #frozen fanfiction #such a cost #Disney #fanfiction

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emma-nation · 6 years ago

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In My Veins (KamilahxMC) - Season 2 - Chapter 1

Summary: Inspired by Lovestruck’s “Havenfall is For Lovers” (Antonio). Amy seems to finally have solved her feelings for Kamilah, but when somebody from her past returns, their relationship will be put to test.

Genre: Romance, Angst

Rating: T

Tag List: @iam-the-fuckin-queen, @annabellewerecorgi, @voltos9, @scorpistraub, @leavemeandmyshipsalone, @jen825, @andreear17, @spacecarrousel, @justejuste727, @aureliaxj, @graceschoices, @sleeping-with-her06, @supersphynxsworld, @gavryllo, @galaxyside-0, @msuhailey, @zoe6111, @ptxgirwaffles, @tigerbryn11, @shanuuh, @riyalovestaylor, @honorablebicycle, @ilovekamilahsayeed, @begging-for-kamilah, @kennaxval, @fal-carrington

Notes: I hope it was worth the wait ;)

"Kamilah!" Amy yelled. "Move! Kamilah..."

She wouldn't listen. Kamilah stood frozen upon the ruthless Feral that came in her direction, ready to shred her into pieces. Her eyes were paralyzed, distant... Unable to breath, Kamilah started to choke, before falling unconscious on the floor.

"No!" Amy threw herself on top of her motionless body, creating a shield between her and the creature. Deep claws cut through the flesh of her back, just as Adrian ripped off the Feral's head.

"Amy, are you okay?" He asked, noticing how deep the wound looked.

The intense pain and blood loss made her unable to answer.

"Kamilah..." was the last thing she muttered before passing out.

----------

3 months later...

The same nightmare still haunted Amy's dreams. That very same traumatic night of the Awakening Ball. They never found the culprit for unleashing the Ferals into the castle. Or who was responsible for poisoning Kamilah’s drink with hemlock, making her unresponsive and vulnerable at the time of the attack.

She rubbed her eyes and looked at the digital watch on the bedside table. 4 AM. After going to the kitchen to get a glass of water, she peeked inside Kamilah's bedroom. No signs of the female vampire. She checked her home office. Empty, as usual.

Amy sighed, getting dressed and ready to go to Ahmanet Financial. She took the keys of one of Kamilah's fancy cars. She never cared about them anyways.

As she expected, Kamilah was still sitting in front of her computer, with a focused look on her face.

"What are you still doing here this late?" Amy asked. "It's not safe."

"Filling some reports," Kamilah calmly answered, closing her laptop. "Indeed. It's not safe for a mortal, with a valuable blood gift, to be walking alone through the streets of New York City at this time of the night."

"Don't lie to me, Kamilah. You were looking into those pictures again."

Amy and Lily had taken a lot of pictures at the Awakening Ball, with the promise they'd be kept in private, only for themselves. The frustration gave the newly-turned vampire the idea of founding a vampire social network, the Fangbook.

Kamilah was obsessed with the content of the pictures, searching for evidence of who could've possibly poisoned her and plotted the attack.

"Amy," she sighed. "I want to catch the culprit and make sure they get properly punished."

"It was Gaius," Amy told. "Obviously. He's seeking for revenge."

"When Gaius decides to kill me, it'll be slow and painful. Such a dirty maneuver couldn't come from anywhere else but..." Kamilah narrowed her eyes. "The Council."

"Let's go home. Please?"

Kamilah relutantly followed her back to the mansion, where together they relaxed in a large bathtub.

"I always dreamed of having one of these," Amy playfully sank her head into the warm water, resurfacing completely covered by foam.

Kamilah shook her head, with a small smile in the corners of her mouth, and took a sip of her glass of wine.

In the last three months she had been more closed than ever. Amy was never able to figure out what kind of relationship they had, or if they had one at all. Kamilah was shutting her off all the time, refusing any kinds of physical contact or displays of affection.

"Here it comes," Amy spoke in a low, dark tone.

"What?" Kamilah finally turned her eyes to her, giving some attention.

"THE FOAM MONSTER!"

Amy jumped on top of her, sinking her into the bathtub too.

"Amy!" Kamilah scowled. "You... You're..."

Amy started laughing, what instantly broke all the icy walls Kamilah was keeping between them.

"You're ridiculous!" She finally smiled.

Kamilah leaned in forward, touching Amy's chin and pulling her for a kiss. She finished by nibbling her lower lip.

"I'm gonna punish you for that, you know."

Her hands traveled down to Amy's chest and belly, resting between her tights.

"Really?" Amy placed another kiss on her lips, before descending to her neck. "But I'm gonna punish you first."

She bit Kamilah's neck, only strong enough to cause pleasure and a little pain.

"Hey!" The female vampire was surprised. "What was that for?"

"For being so absent in the last three months."

"My apolog--!"

Before she could finish, Amy bit her again, near her collar bone. Leaving a purple bruise that started fading seconds later.

"For being so obsessed with your investigation."

"Amy..."

Amy lowered her mouth a little bit lower, biting the soft flesh of Kamilah's chest.

"I don't like this."

"What? Aren't you used to receiving?"

“I’m usually the one who bites.”

Amy continued, biting Kamilah's toned belly, multiple times. She could tell the female vampire was enjoying it more than she showed.

"The things I'm gonna do to you..."

Sinking her head underwater, Amy bit Kamilah's inner tight, raising goosebumps.

"Shhhh," Amy silenced her, brushing her lips on Kamilah's. "Not before the things I'm gonna do to you."

As they kissed hungrily, with tongue and fangs included, her fingers worked between Kamilah's legs. The vampire moved her hips to meet her rhythm, their bodies moving in perfect synchrony until she reached the peak of her ecstasy.

The next thing Amy knows is that using her vampire strength and speed, Kamilah drove her to the bed. Without minding if their wet bodies were soaking the mattress and luxurious sheets, her mouth explored hungrily every inch of Amy’s body. The tips of her fangs scratching her skin made Amy arch her back in pure pleasure.

“Kamilah...” she tangled her fingers in Kamilah’s smooth hair.

Kamilah's mouth made contact with the most sensitive part of her body, her tongue moving with perfect skill and experience to give Amy an unforgettable night. About to give herself over to pleasure, Amy squirmed under the vampire’s body.

“Don’t move,” Kamilah ordered, without moving her mouth away from the middle of Amy’s legs.

“B-But... it’s... I’m gonna...”

Kamilah stopped, with a mischievous smirk on her face. Her nails slowly rubbing against the skin of Amy’s belly and tights.

“K-Kamilah, please... just let me...”

“You’re gonna get more, when you deserve it.”

Frustrated, Amy’s hand descended to where Kamilah’s mouth was previously working on, determined to finish what she started.

“What a cheeky little mortal you are!” Kamilah grabbed both of her wrists and handcuffed them to the bedpost.

“This is so mean!”

Kamilah placed soft kisses on Amy’s jawline and neck, while her fingers found her target. Moving slowly and teasingly.

“Is that what you want?” She asked Amy.

The girl could barely mouth a response, but she nodded.

“M-More...” she finally moaned.

“Okay.”

The female vampire started moving faster, deeper... touching just the right spot to drive Amy to the ultimate bliss. The girl collapsed in her arms, feeling completely satisfied after three months of drought.

----------

Kamilah woke up early in the next morning. Only being a vampire gave her that ability of looking that great, even such an intense night and barely any sleep. Amy woke up by the lunch time, observing as she spoke on the phone with several different people.

"Are you..." Amy scratched her head confused by what she was hearing, maybe she was still drowsy, "organizing a party?"

"I have ulterior motives," Kamilah explained. "The Council leaders and their most important clan members will be attending this small gathering. And I'll be getting clues of who might be involved with Gaius and who attempted to assassinate me."

Amy knew it was useless to argue. When Kamilah had something in mind, she wouldn't easily give up.

"Is there anything I could help you with?"

The corners of Kamilah's mouth curled up in a smile. From her private closet, she brought a stunning designer dress.

"I-Is it for me?" Amy asked.

"Of course," Kamilah placed the dress in front of her body, examining how well it'd fit. "I want you to be you, Amy. Dance, chat, laugh... socialize. They may not open up to me, but to you... they could be showing signs."

Later that night, Amy observed from the top of the staircase as Kamilah greeted her guests. That was probably the first and only time a party was hosted in that mansion. Every vampire from the New York elite was there, Adrian, Adam Vega, Priya Lacroix, Lester Castellanos and The Baron, along with some members of their clans. Knowing how bored she’d probably feel, Kamilah allowed her to invite Lily, as long as she kept focused on the mission.

“I envy your life,” her best friend appeared by her side, bringing an expensive bottle of wine and two glasses. “In every aspect.”

“I don’t wanna sound ungrateful, but...” Amy lamented, biting her lower lip. “I have a great job, an excellent paycheck, Kamilah allowed me to live here as she travels all the time. She’s the boss I could ever ask for.”

“The boss?” Lily gave her a confused look. “Boss with benefits, you mean?”

“No more than that. Sometimes we have sex and it’s breathtaking... Lil, I think I’m in love with her.”

“Have you told her that?”

“I may have,” Amy tried to remember. “A little before the incident at the Awakening Ball, actually.”

“Maybe it’s time to confront her, to know how she feels about you too,” Lily suggested. “It has been over three months, for god’s sake!”

“I just don’t wanna pressure her when she has been so...” she glanced at Kamilah, who was speaking to Senator Vega, like if she was trying to collect evidence to her suspicions. “Obsessed. I need some fresh air.”

She placed her empty glass at one of the many corner tables spread around the mansion and walked outside, to Kamilah’s giant and gorgeous swimming pool. What was she thinking when she thought a powerful CEO and vampire, could fall in love with her? A regular mortal, born in a small town in Massachusetts and with tons of student loan debts to pay? In the last few months, she became one of Kamilah’s possessions. An entertainment. Once she found something else to keep her busy, she’d be easily discarded, as she was being now.

“My, my...” a seductive female voice came right from behind her, raising shivers all over the back of her neck. “What do we have here?”

“P-Priya, hi,” she turned around. The cold fingertips of the fashion designer softly touched her cheek, before stroking the fabric of her dress.

“Not one of mine, but... you have quite a taste, Amy.”

“Thanks but, Kamilah picked it for me.”

Her response nearly made Priya choke with her drink.

“What a surprise,” she shook her head and muffled a laugh.

Amy stood in silence, observing the view in front of her. Priya’s presence made her feel intimidated somehow. Maybe because she was one of the most famous designers of the actual days, or her alluring personality and... her hot features. She felt her cheeks burning.

“It’s good Kamilah has managed to find someone like you in her life,” Priya commented.

“R-Really?”

“Hell yeah,” she nodded. “None of us could put up with that shit mood of hers anymore! Can you imagine it? Listening to her lecturing us, acting like a boss, in every fucking Council meeting for a hundred years?”

Amy let out a small laugh.

“I mean it,” Priya rolled her eyes. “Jeez, I needed a lot of alcohol before them. This party... is even decent, coming from Kamilah. You know?”

“Yeah, I’m glad to have guests,” Amy told. “To be honest, it feels lonely living in such a big place like this. Especially when Kamilah is having a long shift at work, or when she’s traveling.”

“Oh. You don’t always have to feel lonely...” She felt Priya’s fingers brushing on hers, “you can always call me, for a party or... anything you want. My door is always open and you know I can treat you just right."

"I-I appreciate the offer," Amy felt she was starting to hyperventilate.

"Well, Amy, it was nice chatting to you. But I must..."

Priya stopped talking. Her eyes went wide and she started coughing.

"Priya!" Amy shouted. "What's wrong?"

"A-Amy... I'm..." she grabbed her throat. "I... can't... breathe..."

"I'm gonna call someone! Just stay here."

"No... there's... no time... the poison... I need blood. Now."

“Oh my god. Of course, Priya. Here...” without thinking twice, Amy brushed off the long blonde hair falling over her shoulders, exposing her neck and offering it to Priya.

Differently from Kamilah, her bite wasn’t soft or delicate. It was rough and deep, causing her an uncomfortable pain. She tried her best to not wince, Priya should be in agony after all. She remembered how bad Kamilah felt after being poisoned at the Awakening Ball. She needed a lot of blood to recover completely.

Blood started dripping from the bite wound in her neck, spilling over her new expensive shoes.

"P-Priya..." Amy gently touched her arm, as a signal for her to stop. However, the vampire intensified the bite. The fabric of her dress began to feel soaked by the hot blood, leaking from her neck.

Her legs started feeling weak and her head, a little bit fuzzy. She could distantly hear Priya's vicious laugh as she continued to feed.

"Stop..." she mumbled, almost inaudible. "You're killing me."

Amy felt she was about to pass out, when a pair of strong arms caught her before she fell. She was carefully placed in a pool chair, just in time to see Kamilah advancing in Priya's direction. She had her daggers in hands and was ready to decapitate the younger vampire.

"How dare you?!" Kamilah yelled. "How dare you to come to my house and attempt to kill my girlfriend?"

"It's not like she didn't consent," Priya smirked, taunting her. "She was even enjoying it."

"Now I know, you tried to kill me! You lured those Ferals into the castle! You're working with him! This is a violation of the Pact. You're over, Priya."

"Kamilah! No!" Adrian rushed from inside the house. He glanced at Amy, who was still bleeding and anguishing.

While he healed her neck, Adam Vega separated Kamilah from Priya, trying to reason with them.

"Ladies, indeed there was a possible violation here but, let's solve the issue in a civil way."

"She attempted to murder Amy, Vega," Adrian scowled. "It was a violation, applicable of the ultimate penalty."

"We must discuss the possibilities first."

"No. I demand a tribunal, tomorrow night."

----------

Later that night, Amy woke up from a long nap she took at Kamilah's lap. The vampire's long brown hair almost touched her face, as she softly stroked her cheeks. Amy yawned and stretched her arms, wishing to stay like that forever.

"Hey you," she smiled at Kamilah, who had a dark expression on her face.

"Amy, you woke up. Are you feeling alright? I fear you've lost a decent amount of blood."

"I'm okay," Amy touched her hand, in an assuring manner. "Adrian said I should recover in a couple of days."

"It makes me so angry, so frustrated at myself!" Kamilah clenched her fists and her eyes went red in anger.

"It wasn't your fault, Kamilah. Priya faked she had been poisoned too and I fell for her trick. If there’s anyone to blame, it’s me. God, how could I be so naive?”

Kamilah stood up from the bed, pacing nervously around the mastersuite before standing by the window. Amy knew her enough to know it was an habit, when she was feeling distressed. Still a little wobbly, she walked to her, wrapping her arms around Kamilah’s waist.

“Hey, I’m fine. You don’t have to blame yourself for that. You’ve been under enough pressure lately, don’t you think?”

“Amy...” Kamilah sighed deeply, “I failed to protect you. Again. This world has been turning too dangerous for you. We need to find a manner to ensure your safety.”

“Well, Jax has been teaching me some killer moves with his katana,” Amy laughed. “And we can always train at one of those facilities of yours.”

“It’s... it’s not enough, I fear.”

“What do you mean?”

Kamilah turned around, her brown eyes gazing directly inside her soul, making Amy feel a strange sensation. A warmness, a connection...

“If you were like me,” Kamilah took her hand, “that would make you less vulnerable.”

“L-Like you?” Amy furrowed her brows confused. “In which way?”

“A vampire.”

Amy silenced for a moment. Lily was raving all the time about her newfound abilities. Adrian and Kamilah made the life of vampires sound very easy and comfortable. But, was she ready for that? Was she ready to... drink blood from humans or being unable to walk in the sunlight? Was she ready to watch all her loved ones dying, while she never aged?

“You don’t have to give me an answer right now,” Kamilah told. “I just wanted you to know it’s a possibility. I... I won’t turn you against your will, like...”

“Like he’s done to you,” Amy gently touched her cheek.

“Exactly.”

Amy looked down and bit her lower lip, remembering something she heard in the middle of Kamilah’s altercation with Priya.

“Kamilah?” She asked. “When you were fighting Priya, you called me...”

“My girlfriend?” The female vampire added.

“Were you... faking again this time?”

“No, Amy. This time I really meant it. I mean... we’ve been together for quite a while now. We’re sharing a house, I feel comfortable around you and most of all, I trust you.”

“I just want you to know I feel the same, girlfriend.”

Amy pulled her for a kiss. When their lips barely touched, Kamilah’s phone started ringing inside her pocket.

“I’m ignoring it,” she muttered against Amy’s mouth, that she continued to kiss feverishly.

Whoever was calling wouldn’t stop. Kamilah rolled her eyes and answered. It was a video call, probably from one of her clients. Amy made herself comfortable in bed again, as she knew it’d probably take a long time.

A masculine voice from the other side of the line started speaking words Amy could not understand. He was speaking a different language, it wasn’t French or even Italian. Arabic maybe? She had listened to Kamilah speaking Arabic before, but that sounded completely different. Ancient somehow. There was something wrong in his voice, it was low and crackling, like a cry for help.

Kamilah was pale looking at the screen. She couldn’t pronounce a single word in response, no matter how hard she tried. A single tear ran down across her cheek.

“Kamilah? Are you alright?” Amy approached, curious. “What’s going on?”

The female vampire didn’t answer. Amy looked at the screen. The young male on the display should be around her age. He looked strangely familiar. His eyes, his hair, his facial features... he looked like... Kamilah? The video call was cut, what made Kamilah throw her phone against the wall in rage.

“Who was that, Kamilah? Tell me!”

“A-Amy, t-that was... that was my twin brother, Lysimachus.”

#bloodbound #kamilah sayeed #kamilah x mc #playchoices #choices stories you play #bloodbound fanfiction #in my veins S2

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mindseyeinkarnate · 4 years ago

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Portraits of a Serial Killer - “The Cell” turns 20

I've often reflected how the influence of Art is a key component missing from Modern Horror. The Xenomorph we all know and fear came from the painted nightmares of Swedish surrealist H.R. Giger, the Screamer is said to have influenced the Ghostface Killer mask. For a further rundown of art's musings over the genre, I would highly recommend 2017's Tableaux Vivants for a look at 60 such portraits and the films they inspired.

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In the summer of 2020, The Medium video game appears to correct that oversight with the recent trailer dropping, adapting Polish painter, Zdzislaw Beksinski's frightening paintings. In the same season of the same year is when The Cell celebrates 20 years (8/17/2020). This film appeared to feature as many artistic influences as possible into its near two hour runtime.

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The sight of chains freaked me out upon watching my first Hellraiser movie, so the sexual perversion of their use in this film did little to alleviate such apprehension, especially as they pulled so tightly to suspend human flesh in the air. Despite a previous scene showing the villain having drowned his victim, this was the true introduction to his villainy - the former showed what he did, that latter why he did it. Even re-watching this film so many years later, I had to look away from the screen, recoiling from such a grisly display.

Typically, in Horror or any film that assumes a particular aesthetic, it is color that makes the impression to set mood. Instead, the use of white in this film, from the K9 to the bleached state of the victims is used to ghoulishly haunting effect.

I remember critics remarking that because of Vince Vaughn's comedic history they couldn't take him seriously in this role and relegated his involvement to stunt casting. I take the opposite stance since, for me, every role after this film simply serves as a reminder that he starred in The Cell. I've always felt that comedy actors do well in dramas - see Robin Williams in "Good Will Hunting" - and I thought that Vaughn did a serviceable job in this film, never distracting from either tone or plot.

I was happy that they just dove into the mechanics behind entering one's mind as an accepted reality, that they didn't get bogged down in techno babble or exposition of the technology. There is a time and place for the virtual journey into the cerebral frontier, such as The Matrix or a good adaptation of the Lawnmower Man, but for the Cell, I'm happy that they focused more on the story and not so much the science. The suits do look like Twizzlers, but it was made by Eioka Ishioka (who passed away in 2012), the same costume designer as Vlad Tepes' suit from Bram Stoker's Dracula. I do like that the two participators are suspended in the air while their minds are linked. It's an eerie callback to the killer's suspension from chains for sexual release. Also, it does give the technology that space age feel as though they are in a weightless environment.

Since the 90's, special effects have been criticized as dominating films to the point Stephen King is quoted as remarking that "story supports effects instead of effects supporting story". Similarly, an argument can be made that at times The Cell becomes too indulgent with its usage of famous art that serve no plot function, e.g. the Horse Split, the Three Women of Odd Nerdrum's Dawn painting, Mother Theresa and her Hallmark card, etc. As the director is quoted as saying "The thing about this film is it’s an opera, and there is no such thing as a subtle opera.” I don't believe that the script was penned as an excuse to pack in as much gallery portraits as possible or is an hour and fifty minutes of a music video. I just wish the director would've used each art piece he seeks influence from to develop the story or the character. The imagery doesn't always portray the killer's psychology or the psychologist's therapeutic technique. If he wasn't going to utilize subtlety, he should have implored restraint. He later added "Anyway, I missed the whole plot, just been talking visual all along, ah, where are we?”

Once in the killer's mind, his depiction as the master of his domain is a hauntingly accurate depiction considering the previous scenes of suspension rings in the back of his body, which unwittingly foreshadowed to the audience his royal appearance to come. Even the name, King Stargher, is a daunting title for a movie monster. When rising and descending from his throne, the violet robes receding from the walls and tracing along the room is hypnotically unnerving.

As tiresome as the "we're still in the dreamworld" trope can become (The Matrix, DS9 Season 7 episode 23 "Extreme Measures"), this film not only flips it when the psychologist realizes that she's "already in", but does so in a cleverly visual way.

King Stargher

Horned Stargher

Court Jester/Vatican Clown

Serpent Stargher

It is interesting to think that a single actor would assume many distinct monstrous characters. Unlike a Freddy Kreuger or a Pennywise that turn into manifestations of their victims' fears, the figures that Stargher assumes are all avatars of his own warped psyche, his own inner turmoil. Vincent D'Onofrio really does put in his all with this role. He's soft spoken and understated when he needs to be and malicious and heartless when the scene demands it. Along with the visuals of the film, D'Onofrio's performance is worth the price of admission. It's a shame that his acting as well as the movie's stunning artistry are what have gone overlooked all these years. Speaking of...

One invalid criticism that has been levied against the film is its attempts to persuade the audience to sympathize with the killer. My intention with the following statement is neither to flaunt my Horror insight nor to divide the lines between fans within Horror and those without. Having said that, even as an adolescent seeing this movie in theaters, I at no point felt remorse for the serial murderer and I chalk up this long-held misconception to a bad read on the film.

So off-base is this "critical analysis" that it can't even be regarded as a Jekyll & Hyde dynamic. The villain is not split down the middle between binary good and evil, where both halves are at war over his soul, or the repressed impulses of his Dark Passenger are manifesting in a heartless butcher. If there is any distinction, it is between who the antagonist was when a victim as a boy and what the man became as an adult victimizer. If anything it is the good that is repressed, not the evil. Furthermore, along with using the film's plot to force Alice down the rabbit hole of the Mad Hatter's mind, this film does address the nature of evil. When referring to Stargher, even Jennifer Lopez's character remarks "The Dominant side is still this horrible thing". The Vince Vaughn detective states "I believe a child can experience 100 times worse the abuse than what Gish (a different killer) went through, and still grow up to be somebody that would never, ever, ever hurt another living being." Thus, these serve as acknowledgement that the abducted criminal is firmly in the driver's seat to the point of its reference as a "thing" and a condemnation of what the killer has become, respectively.

Along with exploring the psychology of the killer, the film does not qualify the villain's innocence, it questions it.

The critics probably missed that pesky detail that would've debunked their headline before they pressed a single word of their denunciation.

These same professional critics wouldn't give a second's hesitation towards throwing Horror under the bus and condemning Scary Movies for inspiring violence if it meant their jobs were only the line, yet they would balk at the notion that continued mental trauma and physical abuse can cause psychopathic behavior.

There are classics and icons worth praising for their plot and performances, respectively, and then there are some Scary Films that Horror Fans view with the understanding of their heavy material and without your typical fanfare because they're a hard watch. I can see where people would be fans of Hannibal Lecter not because they or the film glamorizes cannibalism, but because of Anthony Hopkins' acting chops (excuse the pun). Conversely, John Doe, the serial killer of Se7en, has and will likely never enjoy such admiration because of the cold purity of his calculated evil. The 2 decade critique of The Cell's villain portrayal is a dark cloud that has unjustly hung over its head.

The motif of "the eyes of a killer" was something applauded in Rob Zombie's Halloween 2, yet ridiculed in The Cell 9 years prior?

This film's premise and the fact that it wasn't fully effectively executed makes it primed for a remake. Hollywood needs to be issued a Cease and Desist order of such wholesale dependence on Remakes in general, let alone in the Horror genre. When you consider that so many remakes can't outdo the original and even tarnish the films they attempt to emulate, why not fix the problems of a film that went wrong and take the credit when you get it right?

#TheCell #TheCellTurns20 #PortraitsOfASerialKiller

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dccomicsnews · 5 years ago

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Welcome to the official DC Comics News Holiday Gift Guide 2019! We have carefully curated a fantastic list of items from low-cost to wallet-busters and everything in between. There’s something for everyone, from books and blu-rays, to card games and Funko POPs, and even a kitchen gadget!

DC has some of the most popular superheroes every created with Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman among the top three. And that means there’s no shortage of merchandise out there for the DC fan in your life.

So take a stroll through our list… I guarantee you’ll find something worth picking up!

So, to start off the Holiday Gift Guide 2019, I wanted to kick things off with a bang… and that’s why I chose the latest release from the fine people over at Insight Editions…

Batman: The Definitive History of the Dark Knight in Comics, Film, and Beyond

This is the most extensive, well-researched, thorough book on a superhero I have ever seen. It’s incredible, and hefty to boot (weighing in at 8 pounds).

This book celebrates Batman’s 80th Anniversary in 2019 and traces his history across eighty years of comics, cartoons, live-action TV shows, and major motion pictures exploring the history and legacy of the Caped Crusader through his many incarnations. Featuring exciting never-before-seen imagery and commentary from key writers, artists, filmmakers, and more, this book also includes a variety of removable insert items, providing a unique, immersive experience for fans. Comprehensive, compelling, and filled with previously unseen treasures, Batman: The Definitive History of the Dark Knight in Comics, Film, and Beyond is the ultimate guide to the legendary hero.

Purchase Here

DC Universe 1-year Subscription

This is a great gift idea for any DC fan. Chock full of great content, from movies (including films such as Superman: The Movie up to the latest animated films like Batman: Hush) and TV series (The Flash (1990), Batman: TAS, and a plethora of new, original shows like Titans and Doom Patrol) to a library of over 20,000 comics, this is a streaming service everyone should have. Unfortunately, it is only available in the US currently, so please keep that in mind.

Purchase Here

Death and Return of Superman Blu-ray

The Death of Superman (2018) and Reign of the Supermen (2019) now presented as an over two-hour unabridged and seamless animated feature. Witness the no-holds-barred battle between the Justice League and an unstoppable alien force known only as Doomsday, a battle that only Superman can finish and will forever change the face of Metropolis.

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Batman Who Laughs Funko POP

Ripped from the pages of Dark Nights: Metal comes the Batman Who Laughs, a striking version of the Caped Crusader who makes nightmares shudder as a Funko Pop! Vinyl Figure!

The Dark Nights: Metal Batman Who Laughs Pop! Vinyl Figure – Previews Exclusive #256 features the Batman’s look from the Dark Nights: Metal series.

Packaged in a window display box,

This Batman: Dark Nights Metal Batman Who Laughs Pop! Vinyl Figure #256 measures approximately 3 3/4-inches tall.

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Batman Beyond: The Complete Animated Series Limited Edition Blu-ray Box Set

Warner Bros. Home Entertainment has remastered the heralded series for its first-ever presentation on Blu-ray in this all-encompassing box set features approximately 1,500 minutes of entertainment spread over four Blu-ray™discs, plus the two bonus discs of enhanced content. In addition to a newly-remastered Blu-ray presentation of Batman Beyond: Return of the Joker, there are 15 featurettes on the bonus discs, highlighted by two new inside looks at the beloved television series, led by Nostalgic Tomorrow, a gathering of Batman Beyond production talent and cast led by executive producer Bruce Timm and actors Kevin Conroy and Will Friedle, the voices of Batman and Terry McGinnis, respectively. The bonus discs also spotlight four episodes with audio commentary from Timm and select members of the production team.

Collectibles within the stunning packaging include an exclusive chrome Batman Beyond Funko POP, and four beautifully-designed lenticular art cards produced especially for this set. This ultimate collectors Blu-ray box set will be individually numbered for a Limited Edition release of 50,000.

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Batman Fluxx Card Game

It’s game night in Gotham, and everyone’s favorite Caped Crusader is on the job. Crime is running amok and no-one can win with Villains on the table — so put on your utility belts and leap into the fray to help Batman and his friends clean things up! Draw one and Play one is just the beginning… From camp to chaos, Batman™ Fluxx has something for every bat-fan!

It all begins with one basic rule: Draw one card, Play one card. You start with a hand of three cards… add the card you drew to your hand, and then choose one card to play, following the directions written on your chosen card. As cards are drawn and played from the deck, the rules of the game change from how many cards are drawn, played or even how many cards you can hold at the end of your turn.

Players: 2-6 players

Playtime: 10-30 minutes

Ages: 8 – Adult

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DC Comics Ugly Christmas Sweaters

These DC Comics holiday sweaters infuse signature DC Super Heroes’ styles into your winter wardrobe. Available for men, women, and child, these awesome sweaters let you show off your favorite hero while maintaining that festive spirit. Including designs for Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Flash, Harley Quinn, Joker, and more!

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Gotham: The Complete Series Blu-ray

Witness the evolution of Bruce Wayne’s epic transformation in Gotham, The Complete Series. GCPD Detective Jim Gordon struggles to keep the city he holds dear together while super villains such as Penguin and Poison Ivy vow to take charge. Who will reign over Gotham City? A champion will be named and a hero will emerge in this five season set of Gotham.

This set includes all five seasons of the hit Gotham series on 18 Blu-ray Discs. From character origins to the final episodes of the hit DC/WBTV series that lay the foundation for the city’s iconic future, this is the perfect gift for veteran fans and newcomers alike. The series features an all-star cast lead by Ben McKenzie (The O.C., Southland), Donal Logue (Grounded for Life, Vikings), David Mazouz (Touch), Sean Pertwee (Elementary), Robin Lord Taylor (The Walking Dead), Erin Richards (The Quiet Ones), Camren Bicondova (Gotham Stories), Cory Michael Smith (Carol) and Chris Chalk (12 Years a Slave). Shane West (A Walk to Remember) is also introduced in the final season as the iconic DC Super-Villain, Bane.

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DC Comics Single-Serve Coffee Makers

Start your morning the superhero way with a cup o’ joe from one of these single serve coffee makers inspired by the DC Comics Trinity – Superman, Batman, and Wonderful Woman! Each one is full of features, like an illuminated power switch, removable drop trap, and flip-top lid. 12 ounce matching ceramic mug and permanent filter included.

Superman – Purchase Here

Batman – Purchase Here

Wonder Woman – Purchase Here

Joker (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack)

The beautifully haunting music from one of this year’s best films is a definite must-have. Hildur Guðnadóttir gives us a powerful and memorable score that is somber and chilling, fitting the bleakness of Arthur’s world, but which also ramps up during the film’s bursts of action. Together, this music helps to emphasize Arthur’s misery as well as his broken dreams – not to mention, provide a fascinating accompaniment to Phoenix’s strange and almost balletic dancing.

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DC Comics: Anatomy of a Metahuman

Explore the powers of DC Comics’ greatest characters like never before through stunning anatomical cutaways and in-depth commentary from the Dark Knight.

Concerned about the threat that so-called “metahumans” may pose to the world, Batman has begun compiling a detailed dossier on their incredible physiology and abilities. From villains like Killer Croc, Bane, and Brainiac, to Batman’s own comrades, including Superman and Cyborg, the file brings together the Dark Knight’s fascinating personal theories on the unique anatomical composition of these formidable individuals.

This stunning and unique book delves into the incredible abilities of DC Comics characters like never before. Using beautifully illustrated anatomical cross sections depicting twelve different DC characters, the book, told from Batman’s unique perspective, will explore how these “metahumans” physical makeup differs significantly from that of the average person. From detailed theories on how Superman’s eyes shoot heat rays to an in-depth exploration of how Aquaman is able to breathe under water, the book delves into the deepest secrets of these classic characters. Also featuring chapters on the anatomy and abilities of Doomsday, Aquaman, Swamp Thing, Darkseid, Martian Manhunter, and more, this one-of-a-kind book will change the way you look at metahumans forever.

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Justice League: Road Trip Board Game

The earths most loathsome villains are at it again. Causing destruction and widespread panic on a level never before seen. As you attempt to make contact with the rest of the team, the WATCHTOWER is attacked.

Seconds before communications went dark, a partial message was intercepted from the plant APOKALIPS. The sourct of the message can mean only one thing – DARKSEID.

The details are vague, but the message was clear; DARKSEID calls for the destruction of the JLA. Cut off from the rest of the team, you rush out in search of the JLA’s most nefarious villains in order to stop DARKSEID’s evil plot.

Travel through the game board collecting information on DARKSEID’s master plan. Carry out board actions, collect HIT TOKENS, and acquire TOLL PASSES while you dish out hard justice in HENCHMEN BATTLES. Gain access to the criminal underworld that lead to ENEMY STRONGHOLDS in your search of Earth’s most loathsome villains. Return the villains to your BASE CAMP for information to help you foil DARKSEID’s sinister plot. The first person to complete their SCORE CARD by Acquiring 4 unique VILLAIN TOKENS and return them to their BASE CAMP is the winner.

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Batman ‘66 Classic TV Series Batmobile

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1:24 scale diecast model car of the 1966 Classic TV Series Batmobile with Diecast Batman and Plastic Robin sitting inside the car.

Rubber tires

Detailed interior & exterior

Has opening doors

Made of diecast with some plastic parts

Dimensions approximately L-8, W-3.75, H-3.55 inches

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Batman: Red Rain Funko POP

Part of the Funko POP! Heroes: Batman 80th line, I present to you the Batman: Red Rain vinyl figure. Inspired by the 1991 book, Batman & Dracula: Red Rain, this figure gives you a glimpse at what a vampiric Batman would look like… and it’s terrifying! A must-have for any Batman fan!

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Crisis On Infinite Earths 14-Volume Box Set

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Since the Justice League of America first met their Earth-2 counterparts, the Justice Society of America, the concept of a world-shaking “Crisis” has been a defining part of DC history. Now, for the first time, DC packs one incredible box set with every Crisis tale leading up to and including the industry defining CRISIS ON INFINITE EARTHS! This box set combines six previously existing CRISIS collected editions, printed for the first time in hardcover, with eight new CRISIS hardcover collections that spotlight the most important heroes of the 1980s CRISIS ON INFINITE EARTHS!

Join the Justice League, the Justice Society, the All-Star Squadron, Infinity Inc., Superman, Green Lantern and countless other heroes as they give their all to save the DC Universe!

Included in this incredible collection are: CRISIS ON MULTIPLE EARTHS VOL. 1 HC – Collects JUSTICE LEAGUE OF AMERICA #21-22, 29-30, 37-38 and 46-47; CRISIS ON MULTIPLE EARTHS VOL. 2 HC – Collects JUSTICE LEAGUE OF AMERICA #55-56, 64-65, 73-74 and 82-83; CRISIS ON MULTIPLE EARTHS VOL. 3 HC – Collects JUSTICE LEAGUE OF AMERICA #91-92, 100-102, 107-108 and 113; CRISIS ON MULTIPLE EARTHS VOL. 4 HC – Collects JUSTICE LEAGUE OF AMERICA #123-124, 135-137 and 147-148; CRISIS ON MULTIPLE EARTHS VOL. 5 HC – Collects JUSTICE LEAGUE OF AMERICA #159-160, 171-172 and 183-185; CRISIS ON MULTIPLE EARTHS VOL. 6 HC – Collects JUSTICE LEAGUE OF AMERICA #195-197, 207-209 and ALL-STAR SQUADRON #14-15; CRISIS ON INFINITE EARTHS HC – Collects CRISIS ON INFINITE EARTHS #1-12; CRISIS ON INFINITE EARTHS: ALL-STAR SQUADRON HC – This new title collects ALL-STAR SQUADRON #50-60; CRISIS ON INFINITE EARTHS: GREEN LANTERN HC – This new title collects GREEN LANTERN #194-198, THE LEGION OF SUPER-HEROES #16 and 18 and THE OMEGA MEN #31 and 33; CRISIS ON INFINITE EARTHS: JUSTICE LEAGUE HC – This new title collects THE FURY OF FIRESTORM #41-42, DETECTIVE COMICS #558, WONDER WOMAN #327-329 and THE NEW TEEN TITANS #13-14; CRISIS ON INFINITE EARTHS: LEGENDS HC – This new title collects THE LOSERS SPECIAL #1, SWAMP THING #44 and 46, LEGENDS OF THE DC UNIVERSE: CRISIS ON INFINITE EARTHS #1, BLUE DEVIL #17-18 and AMETHYST #13

Purchase Here

And there you have it folks, the DC Comics New Holiday Gift Guide 2019! I hope you found something awesome in this list for your loved ones, or maybe just for yourself! Happy Holidays!!

DCN Holiday Gift Guide 2019 Welcome to the official DC Comics News Holiday Gift Guide 2019! We have carefully curated a fantastic list of items from low-cost to wallet-busters and everything in between.

#Anatomy of a Metahuman #Batman Beyond #batman fluxx #Batman Who Laughs #Batman: The Definitive History of the Dark Knight in Comics #Crisis on Infinite Earths #DC Comics #DC comics news #DCN Holiday Gift Guide 2019 #Gotham #Holiday Gift Guide #red rain batman

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ralfstrashcan · 6 years ago

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3x16 Reaction / Commentary

Alec “Proud Puppy” Lightwood

THAT FACE HAHA. Also crêpes man I'm jealous.

Rude man, don't rip him away from his hard earned waffles.

This is so hilarious to me, okay, this prompting hand flick Alec does (which you can't see here because I can't gif, only screenshot ahahaha) man I love it. Sadly I didn't find a gif of this yet, so I can't put one :( I can't even put into words why it's so hilarious to me. And Magnus's sceptical gaze hahaha.

Edit: I FOUND ONE

HAHAHA HELL YEAH

I mean we all knew this was fake, not least because it implies Magnus is wearing the same outfit two days in a row and obviously this would NEVER happen, but also because in no universe does Alec have smooth dance moves. It's a law of nature.

lol is this an innuendo or something because I don't get it, pls help

Tiny waist touch is spotted and highly appreciated.

That scene transition was brilliant and there is nothing else to say about it. I lost count of how many times I've rewatched it because it's awesome. The way Alec's voice sounds slighty off, the way Magnus gets heavier in his arms, the way everything spins out of focus, and Alec's last “Stay with me” sounds almost hard with urgency.

When I first saw this I was legit yelling at the screen why the hell Alec is just shaking him instead of, idk, doing CPR but I did him a grave injustice there because he actually does and I really appreciate that. (Though, if he learned first aid I wonder all the more about 3x12 (or was it 3x13, I lost count lol) where he just lets Sentry Guy die without even trying to save him.)

That being said, I'm really happy we got to see the immediate aftershocks of it because I was half afraid this episode would just start with Magnus in the infirmary bed. Still, I have a question. Who called Catarina? Izzy? Because why is she then so shocked when she learns Magnus is not breathing? When she presumably first entered the room to receive the instruction to call Catarina, did she not... wonder why Alec was cpr-ing him? Or did Magnus not immediately stop breathing after collapsing but just, faded slowly while Alec had already told Izzy to call Catarina? I kinda wanna know the mechanics here.

I mean, no surprise there if you keep killing them?? Ahahaha.

My fangirl brain: What, General Amaya from the Dragon Prince is gonna appear? Sign me the hell up!!!! My rest-brain catching up: No this is not a crossover and no, r is not y and just, no. My fangirl brain: :<

........ignoring the fact that summoning her is super stupid, there's also the tiny detail that they don't have leverage why would she help them are they just gonna say “pretty please”?? I can't believe them.

lol Bohemian if you see this, this panel is only for you to haunt your dreams XD hehehe sorry sorry but I just couldn't resist XD

Wtf I can't believe those words just came out of his mouth. Jace, you're gonna start with a pep talk? You were possessed and forced to do things against your will, you should know better than this. Honestly.

The way his voice goes up, just kill me now.

THIS DETAIL OH MY GOD

I absolutely loved this scene, in terms of acting it was perfect and it was painfully in character for Alec to blame himself for everything that's not going alright with someone he loves. The problem I have however (because come on, there's always a problem with me) is that they genuinely want to tell me that Alec didn't realize Magnus was faking it? Magnus loses his magic and he “doesn't think twice”? I mean, that's either really really insensitive or really really stupid. And Alec might be insensitive sometimes, but not like that and he surely isn't that stupid. So, uh, I don't really like that bit. Again, if he was secretly happy that Magnus's immortality is gone that's one more thing to feel intensely shitty about, I get that, but being secretly glad how things turned out and not realizing the other person is suffering from how things turned out are two entirely different things. And just, tf Alec. He can't possibly be that dense, can he, that he genuinely thought Magnus was okay with this. Even if he thought this was something Magnus could get used to in the long run, he didn't expect him to need some kind of settling-in period? Really??

HELL YEAH I STAN CAT SO HARD IN THIS SCENE. And I'm so glad she's the voice of reason in this.... after deigning to appear at long effing last ahahaha sorry not sorry for that dig XD Look it's not her fault, it's the screen writers'.

I got a soft spot for Simon calling her Fray. Also, high-key loving how they're all sitting there waiting for news and finally acknowledging that something's up with Magnus.

LOL CLARY TELL US HOW YOU REALLY FEEL. Kidding. It was the Evil Rune at work again, even though she's nowhere near fire. Maybe it was the hypnotic neon lights? In any case, this is becoming a real problem lol. (No, tbh I found that outbreak totally hilarious XD)

.............................*sigh* I mean, your fierce determination doesn't change the fact that this plan is doomed to fail and you still don't have any leverage over Lilith, but sure. Go off.

YEAH BECAUSE AS SHE PROVED SHE HAS COMMON SENSE. Though I really hope she also told Alec about this dumb-ass request by his dumb-ass parabatai so he can intervene. But, tbh I don't really expect that to happen. *sigh*

Kill herself and then revive herself, hoping a short moment of death is enough to severe the connection? Or maybe, uh, try to use her rune power to cancel her Evil Rune instead of summoning Lilith??? Just for starters.

WTF I CAN'T BELIEVE I'D SEE THE DAY WHERE J A C E IS THE VOICE OF REASON WTF COLOR ME IMPRESSED I LOVE IT

“See, I infused it with a strong dose of Plot Convenience, so that shouldn't be an issue.”

THE PORTRAIT IN THE BACKGROUND HAHAHAHAHAHA

“Why? Why do you hate him so much?” “It's simple. All my life I've had to sit by and watch...”

Thanks for 100% confirming my headcanon, I do love that :)

BAM!!!

I really like the detail that he's so out of breath from the magic, it shows that it was probably more harmful that just a shove back? Oh the questions I want to ask.....

Bitch you're 484 don't round down so much hahaha

Is Lorenzo actually gonna be swayed by this????????????????????? uh

Edit: Ahahaha we later learn he actually is and obviously I had to write a ficlet about it, so uuuuh whatever I'll put it at the end with all my other shameless self promo I'll include in this thing XD

OH YEAH I remember the “Different outfits for different occasions” comment from 2x19 I wonder what she'll wear? The same, or even older??? Btw why does she share a smile with Meliorn as if this is a private joke? Because, like, it isn't.

I mean that's touching and all, but that doesn't change the fact that Lilith loves you and seeing you dead would absolutely tear her apart, thus making this a fitting revenge. Wtf Jonathan this is no sound counterargument.

Hm. Tbh I liked her youngest self best? But she's still cast very well. And I recognize that her talking face to face with Jonathan would have been a little ridic if she only reached his navel XD

Ugh, Bohemian, can you see me rolling my eyes?

lol at least this was funny

OMG Luke could you be any more dramatic, are you actually kidding me. I'm gonna be sick soon if you don't cut the bs.

Wow the first sign of Sizzy that didn't suck, yay! XD this was actually pretty sweet.

Oh you mean that time that Raphael was feeding on her and they were indulging in mutual addiction? Because as soon as Izzy was clean she steered clear of Raphael.

..............................................what happened to “scumbag ex”? Why am I even asking?

?? Yeah? What happened to “While Saia lasted it was the best thing ever?” Then again that was what, three episodes ago? Can't hold him accountable for something that happened so long ago, right.

Hahaha okay that was cute.

1) LOL how hilarious would it be if they summon Lilith and just get her corpse plus Jonathan holding the sword still sticking out of her chest. 2) Jonathan is a true sadist, making her wear those heels. 3) Who's that wheelchair for? I mean, Lilith designed this apartment for her disciples, right?

.................which she doesn't need, since she's no warlock and her powers come from her angel blood, not ley lines. So, points for trying, show, but please don't mix up your races. Makes you look so unprofessional. (Except if this is a hint that shadowhunters also run on ley line energy, have ley line magic flowing through them etc. but honestly I'm not even entertaining the thought because then I'd have a conniption.)

Wtf it's literally standing twenty seconds of intense mindnumbing pain, why the hell would you need a coach for that? Just hold it together and endure it. Also, if they attempt it, 20 bucks say he'll die for some dramatic Sizzy “Oh shit you could really have died, too” moment.

Awww you can really see the love in that touch. <--- sarcasm.

Awww you can really see the love in that touch. <--- no sarcasm.

Honestly, Magnus's touch is natural and familiar (btw love the uncoordinated grabbing) while Alec turns Magnus's chin as if he's trying to make as little physical contact as humanly possible. Is a hand on his cheek really too much to ask for? *sigh*

lol you'd think he'd start with that immediately after Magnus wakes up instead of taking risks (it's what I would have done) but whatever.

He's.... actually there to help? For free? Or is Alec gonna have to hand over the Institute's keys to him when the job is done? Lol. (Also that suit jacket could be straight out of Magnus's closet.)

Oh my God Alec just say he could die. Why sugarcoat it? Say it how it is, and Magnus might listen to you.

.........yeah. This is so relatable and I love how he delivers this line. The desperation is clear, but he's also determined about it. Also, quick question, why didn't Alec get Catarina to be there when Magnus wakes up instead of Lorenzo? I'm not saying it would have changed the outcome but it might just have made Magnus feel less shitty about being exposed to his nemesis in this weak state. Then again I get it, Alec is running on panic and instinct, so consideration is the last thing on his mind.

This scene was amazing. Or, lol, this part of the scene. Magnus's performance is stellar and FYI the next thing he says, the “Look at me! Can you honestly say you like this?” was improvised and that's just ugh so good. Coincidentally this is also where my issues with this scene begin. They're not about how the characters act, I found that part very very fitting; it's meta.

The issue Magnus is having isn't about some fear that Alec won't love him anymore now that he doesn't have his magic anymore. Magnus is projecting. His issue lies within himself. He feels differently about himself, he can't say he likes this, and it's only in conclusion that he assumes it must be the same for Alec. But Alec isn't the root of this issue. But of course it's easier to pretend it's about Alec than to openly admit his severe self-image issues, so that's what Magnus does. Perfectly ic to me. The problem I have here is that if we take what Magnus says at face value it appears that Magnus only wants his magic back so Alec will keep loving him (sidenote: even more if you cross out Harry's addition and just focus on the “You fell in love with the High Warlock of Brooklyn. Can you honestly say you don't feel differently about me?”) and the solution to that is clear: Alec drops some wedding vows, problem solved.

But that's not the problem here. Magnus would literally rather be dead than without his magic and no amount of Alec waxing poetry about him is going to change that. And honestly, I'm so grateful for Harry's addition because that made it abundantly clear to me that Magnus is projecting. His bewildered “Can you honestly say you like this?” is an admittance of “I see what I am now and I can't bear it, so how could you?” If that scene had been about Alec, that would have been so uncalled for.

And also loooool but uuuuuuhhh I found Alec's speech less than impressive? I'm sorry, I know he tried but it just didn't work for me? I felt like it really wasn't up to his usual par. Lol I honestly rolled my eyes when he started about the spark that lights up the room XD It felt impersonal, kinda. It's hard to describe. Of course I can cut him some slack on that, because he was emotionally severely overchallenged in that moment and had to make it up on the fly, but uh. Yeah.

Anyway what I really didn't like was his closing line because it kinda sounded as if he was making that decision for Magnus and that's not his place. It might be dangerous and stupid and “not worth the risk” but Magnus isn't in a place where he should have his authority revoked, so. Kept from gambling with his life, yes. With sound arguments and empathy, yes. With dictation, no. So that didn't go over too well with me. Anyway I channeled that into a ficlet already, too, which I'm also advertising at the end.

......has she just been sitting there for six episodes? Btw I wonder, if Jonathan is happily manipulating Lilith by faking positive emotions towards her I don't get why he totally fell for it every time Clary did the exact same thing to him.

THAT MALICIOUS SMILE HAHAHA THE LITTLE (S)ASS

1) SO SHE'S LITERALLY BEEN SITTING THERE FOR SIX EPISODES?!?!!?!?!

2) Why hello there Plot Point XD srsly why tf would Asmodeus use Magnus's magic instead of his own if, need I remind you, his own demonic magic is stronger than Magnus's, Magnus's wasn't even enough to destroy her demonic possession on Jace.... so why would Magnus's magic be enough to bind Lilith, the mother of that possession, to a room? Uh, lemme guess... Plot Convenience? So when, theory time!, Lilith is slayed he has no need for it anymore and can return it to Magnus?

“...to kill you while you were weakened.”

WOW WHAT A DELIVERY AMAZING

........I gotta be honest, I was really confused at his submissive behavior but then I realized... they have a 10 year history of these mechanisms, and slipping back into the pattern of things must be so easy. Also, I mean, that paints a really wonderful and peaceful image of his formative years, right?

Jimon Shipper Moment <3 ;) Look I don't even ship it, but their bickering is high-key amusing to me.

Instead of just standing between them from the get go? Why?

?????? I guess the incest runs in the family, pun not intended?????? Btw Jonathan's weird incest-y obsession makes so much sense now. If this is literally the only way he ever learned how “familial love” (Lilith Greater Demon Edition) is expressed I have no questions anymore. Seriously, he's so screwed over by everyone and it's just unfair. (On that note, glad we never had to see him make out with Valentine. Some things are just too terrible to envision. Damn, why did I say that, I should just shut up for all of our sakes.) Anyway, back to our favorite tortured soul here, I'm honestly not even sure if I can hold the incest thing against him any longer. His entire life consisted of being raised by Valentine, who kept him in a hut in the woods where he never got to see anyone but him, and then Edom where there was Lilith and demons. It makes a horrifying amount of sense that normal human norms mean nothing to him. He's never lived them, he's never witnessed them and maybe he doesn't even know them. So yeah. I guess I'll just add the incest thing on the long long list of things that are due to the stellar parenting he enjoyed, and not entirely his fault.

Damn so close to see my prognosis come true. Then again, I guess this was just the perfect timing because who knows if Lilith won't even help them now kill Jonathan because betrayal bla bla.

1) No need to twist the knife, then again this is Lorenzo so what am I even expecting.

2) WTF ARE THEY REALLY NOT GOING TO TALK ABOUT THIS SOME MORE?!?!?!??!?!

3) If it's like a transplanted organ being rejected by the body, just, idk, look for a different warlock whose magic fits Magnus better? There must be tests for that kind of thing? And even if there isn't, if you go slow and don't immediately portal all over the world plus end an encanto-coma you should be able to tell the magic doesn't fit pretty quickly without going into cardiac arrest. Magnus only got some nosebleed at first, remember, and it got worse only because he didn't slow down. I'm just saying, there would be Ways.

Wow I never realized before that he's actually got an undercut. Makes his hairstyle look even stupider.

Wow I believe this even less now than I did in 3x12.

“Let's hug in these trying times, but please make sure your face doesn't touch mine, otherwise people might draw the absurd and outrageous conclusion that we're in a relationship or something.”

Honestly. Their portrayal of casual intimacy is abysmal and I hate it.

1) The infirmary is very weird and open space for a place that should be easily closable if you need to contain, idk, sick people and their viruses and keep it sanitary. 2) I've been wondering since the start of the episode, did Lorenzo's pony tail get shorter? Wasn't it longer before? 3) At least Malec managed to make their feet intersect minimally, so yay for small mercies.

“One dose of Plot Convenience, coming right up.”

They're just.... gonna torture her? Really? I don't even have words for this. Oh no, I do:

Seriously. It's as if morality isn't a thing, and torturing a sentient being isn't always and under all circumstances a Wrong and Bad thing to do. Because clearly if the person receiving torture is just Evil Enough then it's okay. Thanks for standing by and doing nothing Simon, this is exactly the reason I hate your inconsistent streak on this matter. I don't even expect better from the born shadowhunters, and Clary is way to un-reflected to even twitch but. Ugh. Why am I even wasting my breath (my typing capacity?) on this. It's pointless.

Wow this is pointless, too. I mean, why is Izzy not interfering? She literally just fell down. She shouldn't be out of comission by this. Ugh.

Also ugh to Izzy slinging her whip around his hand instead of, idk, his whole upper body and his arms.

Also ugh to Simon waiting to attack Jonathan until the last second as a heroic saving move to save Izzy which, ugh.

But this here

#AwkwardGrownUpSquad

I'm honestly lol'ing so hard right now. Hahahaha this is just hilarious to me. Then again, who knows, maybe now they'll team up with Jonathan to kill Lilith and I'll get my hopes up again for a redemption arc XD

......................HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA Btw I bet you she copied that move from Doctor Strange.

lol another thing I didn't see coming.

1) Hello Hannibal lol 2) Who went in there and put restraints on him? 3) Who's gonna pay that Seelie actress now??

This scene was actually nice? I know, I'm surprised myself.

How convenient. I mean, good thing he didn't say “Glorious” otherwise Izzy might have thought he was asking for that one ESC song to be played at his funeral.

Please, Maryse, don't flatter yourself, all you had to do was scratch Elliot's corpse from the floor boards, the rest was already completely furnished.

..................................................................................................................bye

Look, while part of me is undeniably thrilled at the prospect – because while I was totally rooting for a Malec Wedding I was pretty sure it was an unachievable dream, just like hoping for Sheith – this is exactly what I mean with taking things at face value. Alec takes Magnus at his words (that he has doubts Alec will still love him now that he lost his powers) and so he thinks that a grand gesture of commitment will fix it.

But it won't, because that's not the problem. Or at least I hope it's not the problem, I mean if I lost my arm my main worry would be “Holy shit how am I gonna cope without my trusty appendage” not “What are the neighbors gonna think? Will I still be able to rock my favorite outfit without that limb?”

Anyway. I don't think this'll go over too well at this point in time. And honestly, Alec just realized at the beginning of this episode that he was fooled by Magnus's coping facade and tricked into thinking Magnus would be fine without his magic. And now Magnus has lost is magic again and Alec just... makes the same mistake again, blindly believing the words coming out of Magnus's mouth instead of taking a look for himself and seeing how Magnus is faring? Did he learn nothing from this? Alec. Why are you like this.

Anyway, conclusion time: This episode was way more reasonably paced than the last, the shit decision making was kept to a minimum (except for the part where they, y'know, summon Lilith back to earth) and Jace gets a diligence starlet for displaying common sense.

And now, self advertisement time! I wrote three ficlets: a) a continuation of the scene with Alec and Lorenzo b) a gap-bridging Malec scene set after the “I won't lose you” line and finally c) a what-I'd-like-to-see-happen-in-3x17-fic where Alec tells Izzy about his proposal plans.

I'd be thrilled if you checked one of them out. Until next time XD

(Gif Source)

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