#//the essence is that there’s a difference in the way jack fights and survives in s1-4 and the fighting and survival of s5

[bushido-jack]

//my favorite thing lately has been scrubbing the internet for decades old samurai jack edits and amvs and watching them. there’s so much love for samurai jack in them, faith that he would be back to finish his tale one day, and it fits perfectly with the time it came out lol. the edits aren’t as great as they would be with technology nowadays and the music is often linkin park but there’s always an open love for Jack and the series in there. and there’s something about seeing people love Jack even when it’s not at it’s most angsty, when it’s just seasons 1-4, without the novelty, without anything else to focus on but what makes Jack Jack.

[bludstaind]

(kotone furukawa, she/her, human) To ODĪRIA CHIBA, the whole world looks like an open page. With a leap of faith, their skills in HEALING grows a little stronger. For TWENTY-TWO years, they have survived a world of magic with both their CURIOSITY and CANDID ATTITUDE. They work by TENDING TO THE WIZARDS TOWER, but if they could change their fate, they’d want to EXPLORE THE WORLD. (ana, 25, she/her, est) 

⸺ THREADS . STARTERS . VISAGE . AESTHETICS . PINTEREST .  PLAYLIST  

hi friends! i've recently decided to do a total reboot on odiria! i lost muse for a while after an unfortunate situation outside of the dash but during my hiatus i've been reworking her from the shadows and i'm so excited to play her again! she's a litle different, and i'll try to cover any info about her here!

headcanons & tidbits

the wizards automation skeleton. in her previous life, she was a dreamshade. after facing an unfortunate and early demise, the wizard of whale island and the dimension witch created an artificial body, one that could house an immortal soul. it was an experiment, a proof of concept. neither fully living, nor fully dead, she is but a mere automation existing between realms.

in her previous life, she lived alone without family in kardia. she took on a contract with the goodmans. in return for home & shelter, she would protect their son tristan who was facing bullying. over time, however, she became more of a daughter to the family and grew quite close to the goodmans, as well as tristan in particular.

odiria is intensely curious and possesses an insatiable thirst for knowledge. from the moment her new eyes fluttered open, she spent her time studying and observing, acquiring a profound understand of various disciplines, cultures, etc. she's not naive about the world, however, her insights often have a touch of detachment, as if she's understanding everything from a step removed.

due to her detachment from certain nuances, odiria may come across as overly blunt, insensitive, or inappropriate in certain situations. she struggles to grasp the delicate dance of social interactions, and often speaks candidly when others might expect more tact.

though her physical appearance is very human, there are subtle differences in behavior and functions compared to others. while she may experience a full range of emotions, her emotional expression are different. she cannot cry tears like humans do (perhaps from past life trauma?) and yearns deeply to feel something as human as to cry. she may exhibit a shimmer in her eyes or a delicate musical chime when moved by intense emotions, however!

because of her knowledge and unique perspective, odiria has become a close advisor to the lady of the wildwoods. her advice often provides unconventional insights, helping the lady navigate complex decisions.

has a minor proficiency in healing magic, though hopes to become a jack of all trades and know a little bit about as many disciplines as she can.

has grown quite bored of being stuck in the wizards tower so much, she seeks to rebel against her current situation and gain experiences outside of the life she's lived.

has a soft spot for the strange and peculiar

has always felt a little "off" and struggles with feeling defective

the wizard and the dimension witch are, in a strange way, similar to parents for odiria

constantly bickering and fighting with the wizard, she may or may not be in a bit of a "teenage" rebellion phase, despite her age

biography

in a world where enchantment and innovation entwined like an eternal dance, there came into existence a being like no other. born of a curious experiment, she emerged as a testament to the boundless abilities of magic. as her eyes fluttered open for the first time, she beheld the visage of a mother and father of sorts.

her creation had been an ambitious endeavor, an audacious fusion of the magical arts and arcane knowledge. though her birth artificial, her essence radiated with a unique blend of enchantment and the lingering breath of an immortal soul. neither fully living nor dead, she found herself existing in a realm between realms, an ethereal tapestry woven with the threads of her creators' aspirations.

within the confines of her abode, a tower adorned with the patina of forgotten tales, she yearned for companionship and adventure. the solitude weighed upon her, like petals adrift on the wind, until fate intervened and breathed new life into her timeless days. in a twist of destiny, apprentices for their way to her father's tower, their spirits injecting vivacity into the once stagnant air.  a newfound exuberance and insatiable curiosity delighted her, igniting a dormant spark from within.

through an uncanny coincidence, she bore a resemblance to the lost love of the lady of the wildwoods, a revered figure of ancient lore. as whispers of her resemblance reached the ears of the lady, her heart stirred with a bittersweet longing and grief. drawn to her presence, the lady extended a sorrowful invitation, granting odīria the honored position of becoming one of her advisors. with a grief-stricken gaze, the lady hoped to capture fragments of her lost love in odīria's existence. a glimmer of solace in the midst of an eternal longing.

she stood as a beacon of hope, embodying boundless potential within the realm between realms, illuminating a path of shattered boundaries. yet, an ache lingers within, for completeness eludes her grasp. deep within her artificial heart, she yearns for the ephemeral, the fleeting moments of growth and aging, a life mirroring mortal existence, where experiences shape her identity and fill the void tugging at her soul.

wanted connections & plot bunnies

adventuring partner(s) - a brave and trustworthy companion to join her on her adventures as she explores the world outside of the wizards tower. perhaps they share a respect for nature and a deep urge to face that challenges that come with it! a budding friendship through a mutual love of the natural world. open to multiple!

mentor in healing - odiria wants to connect with a seasoned healer who specializes in both magical and natural remedies. perhaps a mentor of sorts that was willing to exchange knowledge or collaborate on tending to the wounded.

childhood friend - they grew up together in her previous life as a dreamshade, before she'd met the goodmans. perhaps there was a drift in the friendship and your lives went in different directions. after she'd disappeared, your character always wondered what happened. in this new life, there's in inexplicable pull towards one another. while she doesn't remember her previous life, maybe fragments of their history shows up in her dreams, providing insight and becoming a source of comfort.

ventuswill worshipper - a fervent follower of ventuswill who believes her artificial existence as an affront to the natural order. their clases could spark debates on ethics, beliefs, and the intersection between magic and technology.

also open to any smaller wcs! friends, enemies, people involved with the wizard or yuuko, romantic connections, etc!

i'm losing brain power but i plan on adding more as i think of them!

about info & stats

NAME: chiba odīria

AGE: twenty-six

GENDER: gender neutral

PRONOUNS: she/they

SEXUALITY: demisexual, questioning

RELATIONSHIP: single

FACECLAIM: kotone furukawa

HEIGHT: 161cm / 5′ 3″

HAIR COLOR: black

EYE COLOR: brown

ZODIAC: aries sun, libra moon, cancer rising

SCENT: earthy and sweet, notes of chamomile, honeysuckle, and dragonsblood. mids of clary sage and rosemary

POSITIVE TRAITS: curious, sincere, inquisitive, forgiving, empathetic

NEUTRAL TRAITS: observant, ritualistic, unusual, candid, transparent

NEGATIVE TRAITS: complicated, verbose, grumpy, impulsive, needy

[darling-i-read-it]

Dolce

3x06

Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham 

Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2.9k 

Warnings: spoilers for hannibal, murder, dead bodies, blood, drugs  

Author’s Note: I don’t want to leave Florence :( but i do be missing the dogs 

I used some direct quotes from the script so some things may seem familiar 

Official Episode Summary: Jack seriously doubts Will's loyalties as the two renew their alliance. Mason Verger plots Hannibal Lecter's capture, while Lecter plans for his final stand.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

Tag List (is always open!) : @llperfectsymmetryll​ @ericacactus​ @vlightning95​ @sweetgoodangel​

(not my gif) 

all gifs @/rocktheholygrail

Hannibal sat in the bathtub. His head leaned against the side of it. Bedelia sat beside him. She wrung a sponge over his broken, beaten and cut body. Hannibal's eyes landed on hers and his pain saw you, wishing that you were there. He had been waiting for you and Will to arrive, wishing that it was going to happen. He wanted it to be you cleaning his wounds. 

He needed it to be you cleaning his wounds.

His wish to have you come with him in the first place that was so strained he didn’t even realize the severity of it until just that moment. In pain, bleeding, sensing the end of something.

-

Jack Crawford looked at the dead body of Pazzi. It was being carted off by the police, the duck tape still pressed onto his face. Jack was tired. He had gotten a few scratches from his fight with Hannibal but none as severe as Hannibal’s. 

Will walked up to Jack. Jack saw him out of the corner of his eye and situated himself toward his former colleague. 

“He’s wounded and worried.” You emerged from the crowd behind Will and gave Jack a simple look. Both of you were scratched up. Dried blood covered Will’s forehead and there was a scratch on your cheek. You both clearly had been through something but Jack had not time to ask. 

“Hannibal doesn’t worry. Knowing he’s in danger won’t rattle him any more than killing does,” Will said. The three of you looked into the Atrocious Torture Exhbiit, the place where Hannnibal and Jack had fought it out. 

“If Rinaldo Pazzi decided to do his duty as an officer of the law, he could have detained Dr. Fell and determined very quickly that he was Hannibal Lecter. Would have taken thirty minutes to get a warrant,” Jack said solemnly. 

“All those resources were denied to Pazzi. Once he decided to sell Hannibal, he became a bounty hunter,” Will stated. You scoffed.

“Serves him right. Mason Verger is trying to capture Hannibal himself for purposes of personal revenge. I've often wanted to use my own resources to drop him in his pig's den,” you muttered. 

“Have you told la polizia they’re looking for Hannibal Lecter?” Will asked Jack.

“They’re motivated to find Dr. Fell inside the law. Knowing who he is..and what he’s worth, will just coax them out of bounds.” 

“It would be a free-for-all,” Will pointed out. 

“And Hannibal would slip away.” Jack paused. Both you and Will were facing opposite directions, looking at different artifacts. “Would you slip away with him?” 

You and Will shared a look. 

“Part of me will always want to,” Wil said. 

“You have to cut that part out,” Jack argued. 

“You aren’t FBI anymore Jack. You can’t tell either of us what to do,” you sneered. You believed that. Jack had no bearings over your feelings for Hannibal. You were annoyed he thought he had any. 

“So you’ll go with him to jail?” Jack asked. You faced him completely. 

“If I had come with him to Florence he wouldn’t be going to jail.”

“And that’s what you want?” Jack challenged. You stepped forward to him.

“I hate to see you win Jack.”

“You had him. He was beaten. Why didn’t you kill him?” Will asked, stepping in. Jack, eyes still on you, considered it.

“Maybe I need you to.” 

-

Hannibal looked out the window. He was wearing a cozy sweater, cuddling into it for the last glimpse of hope he may get before a cage. He sketched into his book. Memories of Florence. 

“I want to be able to draw these streets from memory. I want to be able to draw the Palazzo Vecchio and the Duomo,” Hannibal said whimsically. Bedelia approached him and took the book from his hand.

“You won’t be coming back here for a very long time,” she whispered.

“Memories of Florence will be all I have. Florence is where I became a man. I see my end in my beginning.” 

“All of our endings can be found in our beginnings. History repeats itself and we can’t escape it,” Bedelia stated, turning into the home. Hannibal glanced at the small suitcase. Hsi coat was draped over it. 

“You packed lightly,” he stated. 

“I packed for you.” She paused a moment and off his questioning look, moved forward. “This is where I leave you. Or more accurately, where you leave me.”

Hannibal nodded slowly. His eyes scanned from the suitcase to her eyes. In essence he was aware he was giving up his Florence hope of you and him. He was aware that he was saying goodbye to Bedelia and also your alternate self. 

In hopes to see you again, perhaps for real this time.

-

Bedelia put a needle carefully on her table. She saw the face of Chiyoh in the back of her mirror and turned around simply, confused at her presence. 

“You must be looking for Hannibal Lecter. One of his patients?” she questioned. 

“No, not a patient. Where is he?” Chiyoh asked. Her gun was in her hand delicately. It looked like it weighed a feather. 

“Gone. Seeing how you let yourself in, I hope it’s not too forward to ask, who the hell are you?”

“Family,” Chiyoh landed on. 

“Ah. You’ve come a long way from home,” Bedelia pointed out. 

“Who are you?” 

“I’m his psychiatrist.” Chiyoh glanced at the ampoule and needle. Bedelia shrugged.

“Medicinal purposes.” Chiyoh studied her further, her eyes narrowed. 

“You’re like his bird. I’m his bird, too. I met another one, on the train ride here. He puts us in cages to see what we’ll do.”

“Fly away or dash ourselves dead against the bars,” Bedelia suggested. 

“You haven’t flown away.” 

-

Hannibal Lecter looked between the Primavera and his sketchbook. He was drawing it for the thousandth time but this time, in place of the garlanded nymph was your face. In place of pale zephyrus was Will.

Over Hannibal’s shoulder, Will walked into the room. Slowly, the suit that he was wearing suddenly seeming so stuffy. Will’s eyes landed on Hannibal for the first time since Hannibal gutted him. Both men battered and bruised. 

He moved forward and gently laid a hand on Hannibal’s shoulder. Hannibal looked up at Will and smiled, pleased to see him. Will sat down beside Hannibal and for a moment they both absorbed the moment.

“Good to see you,” Will said.

“If I saw you everyday forever, Will, I would remember this time,” Hannibal said as he stared at the man that he loved. They stared at each other for a moment and Will’s smile seemed the brightest thing Hannibal had seen in so long.

“Strange to see you in front of me. Been staring at afterimages of you in places you haven’t been in years,” Will stated.

“To market, to market, to buy a fat pig. Home again, home again, jiggity-jig,” Hannibal said lightly.

“I looked up at the night sky there. Orion above the horizon and, near it, Jupiter. I wondered if you could see it, too. She wondered if our stars were the same.”

She. 

You. “I believe some of our stars will always be the same. You entered the foyer of my mind and stumbled down the hall of my beginnings.” 

“I wanted to understand you before I laid eyes on you again. I needed it to be clear what I was seeing,” Will explained. 

“Where does difference between the past and the future come from?” Hannibal questioned. 

“Mine? Before you and after you.” He paused. “Yours? It’s all starting to blur. Mischa. Abigail. Chiyoh.” 

“How is Chiyoh?” 

Between both boys shoulders, you emerged. You were wearing a gorgeous dress that you usually wouldn’t have pulled out. You bought it here in Florence. It reminded you of Hannibal. Plus your other clothes were bloodied. You looked just as battered and bruised as they did. 

You all pulled it off with a regal amount of elegance. 

“She pushed us off a train,” you said. Hannibal turned around to see you. The first time you had laid eyes on each other since you had kissed. It was interesting for Hannibal now. He had to double check that Will had heard you too. 

“Atta girl.”

“Ah, it hurt,” you said. You walked around the bench and sat between them. They allowed you enough room. You looked at Hannibal and smiled. He smiled back at you. 

“We have begun to blur,” Will said after a moment more of absorbing.

“Isn’t that how you found me?” Hannibal questioned.

“Even as the possibility of free will dissipates, my experience of it remains the same. I continue to feel and act as though I have it.”

You looked over at Will and then back at Hannibal. You placed your hands on your lap.

“Why did you let Bedelia live?” you asked. “I can’t stop thinking about it. I figured she had been long dead, gone through and out of your digestive system at this point. There should not have been an ounce of her left so imagine my surprise when I see her completely alive. Confused and lying, but alive.” Hannibal looked into your eyes and you understood.

“I think you know why.”

You held your gaze and then had to leave it in fear of getting emotional.

“Every crime of yours feels like one I am guilty of. Not just Abigail’s murder, but every murder streching backward and forward in time,” Will said after a moment. 

“Then what’s left to do? Freeing yourself from me and me freeing myself from you, they’re the same. No longer seeing you in people who aren’t you Y/N. You are part of his equation just as much as Will and I.” 

You smiled solemnly.

“We’re conjoined. Curious if any of us can survive separation,” you mused. 

“Now’s the hardest test: not letting rage and frustration, nor forgiveness, keep you from thinking.” Hannibal stood up and gestured for you to take his hand. “Shall we?” You took it and stood. Will’s hand was already interlaced between yours, something you did subconsciously when you sat down. 

You all stood.

“After you,” Will muttered. 

Together the three of you left the gallery. Worse for wear but something blossomed in your hearts, something that only the other two could bring out. You had walked only a few steps before Will was shot to the ground.

-

Hannibal held Will close to him, trying to get him into the chair. You stood beside him, helping him take his jacket off. Will winced and fell forward, his chin on your shoulder. 

“I’ve got you,” you whispered. Will’s shirt was soaked with blood. It was dripping down his arm from where the bullet wound entered. 

“The bullet is still inside you. This will hurt.” Hannibal took the jacket all the way off and Will watched as Hannibal cut off his shirt. The three of you hadn’t been this close since you were last covered in Will’s blood.

“Chiyoh’s always been very protective of me,” Hannibal said as he looked into the wound.

“Tell her to back the hell off,” you sneered.

“Did she kill her tenant or did you?”

“She did,” Will choked out.

“Excellent.” Hannibal took Will’s knife you didn’t know he had with him, back into his limp hand. “You dropped your forgiveness, Will.” You stared at the blade, bloodied. You caught Will’s eyes. He hadn’t told you he had brought a weapon. “You forgive how God forgives. Would you have done it quickly, or would you have stopped to gloat?” 

“Will?” you whispered.

“Does God gloat?” Will asked.

“Often,” Hannibal answered.

Hannibal moved a sharp needle into Will before you even noticed he had it. Will dropped the blade into Hannibal’s waiting hand. Will passed out. 

Your mouth hung open as your gaze held the knife. You still had your hand putting pressure into Will’s wound but it loosened. 

“I didn’t know,” you whispered, looking up at Hannibal.

“I know,” Hannibal responded. “You wouldn’t have done it anyway. I’m going to dress his wound and get the bullet out. Would you mind waiting in the kitchen? Dinner is almost ready.” 

You were so stunned that you stood up. You felt the pull of needing to be by Will but wondered what he would have done to Hannibal. Would you have gone with it? 

Chiyoh was right.

You were not the kind of girl who followed a man's lead.

You grabbed Hannibal’s shoulder and pulled him up.

“Why are you staying?” 

“Why didn’t you come with me?” 

You stared at each other. 

“I love Will.” 

“The Bloody Valentines.” You scoffed and took the knife from Hannibal’s hands. You threw it off to the side. 

“Will is drugged.” 

“Are you going to drug me Hannibal?” You stared at each other and he kissed you feverishly, the way he had wanted to since you kissed him last. You wrapped your arms around his neck and held onto him for dear life. You hadn’t touched him in so long. 

You pulled away after a moment. 

“I wanted to go,” you whispered. “I regretted now going.” You pulled away and stepped back. “I’ll be in the kitchen. Please fix Will.” 

-

Will’s eyes fluttered open. Hannibal walked into the dining room with a large bowl in his hands. Will had a dish set out in front of him.

“I do not indulge much in regret, but I am sorry to be leaving Italy. There were things in the Palazzo Capponi I would have liked to read,” Hannibal admitted. In from the kitchen came you, holding a different dish. You placed it on the table.

A last dodge attempt at normalcy. 

“I would have liked to play the clavier and perhaps compose. I might have cooked for the Widow Pazzi, when she overcame her grief. I would have liked to show you both Florence.” 

You sat down beside Will and spoon fed him some soup. He looked over at you, confused, doped up.

“The soup isn’t very good,” he slurred.

“It’s a parsley-and-thyme infusion, and more for my sake than yours. Have another sip, let it circulate,” Hannibal explained. Will took another spoon from you. Will and you finally noticed the final place setting at the end of the table. 

“Are we expecting company?” 

-

Hannibal grabbed your arm tightly and stood you up. 

“It will be Jack,” he told you.

You glanced at Will, out of his mind and slowly losing sight. Hannibal was giving you the invitation you had wanted since Jack stepped into Will’s classroom to talk about Garret Jacob Hobbs. 

-

Jack opened the door to Pazzi’s home. He had his gun held up high as he looked around every corner before he stepped forward. Eventually, Will at the end of the table came into view.

He walked forward and up to Will who blinked, focused on Jack and took a deep breath.

“Hannibal’s under the table, Jack,” Will muttered. Before Jack could react you had grabbed him from behind and a blade slashed Jack’s achilles heel. 

Jack dropped hard.

Hannibal turned to you and his gaze softened. 

“You will not join me in prison,” he whispered. Your eyebrows furrowed. He grabbed your arm and shoved a needle into your side. You let out a small, betrayed sigh and passed out.

-

Jack came to and found himself seated opposite Will. 

“I’ve taken the liberty of giving you something to help you relax. Won’t be able to do much more than chew, but that’s all you’ll need to do. I didn’t have an opportunity to ask you during our last encounter, but did you enjoy the exhibition? A different kind of evil minds museum,” Hannibal said to Jack.

“Not so different,” Jack retored. He noticed you were gone from the room. 

“The promoters are failed taxidermists who formerly got along by eating offal from the trophies they mounted things that bring people together.”

“We were supposed to sit down together back in Baltimore...the three of us. And Y/N.” 

“You were to be the guest of honor,” Hannibal said, ignoring the mention of your name. Hannibal poured himself a glass of wine and took a leisurely sip.

“Where…” Will started but he didn’t finish. 

“Jack was the first to suggest getting inside your head,” Hannibal said. “Now be both have the opportunity to chew quite literally what we’ve only chewed figuratively.” 

Hannibal held a bone saw in his hands. Jack suddenly realized what was going on. For a moment, all Jack could think about was what you would say if you were in the room. 

“Stop! Stop! Stop!” 

Blood trickled down Will’s head despite his protests.

3x07

[teamhawkeye]

unfiltered and massively spoiler filled thoughts on RE8 below the cut [MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD]:

The Good

The first half of the game

The initial village segment and the castle portion and even “the house in the mist” sections were all pretty taut and well put together. i loved exploring the castle - was more than a little disappointed that you get locked out after Alcina’s boss fight, i didn’t explore it fully D: - and the unexpected terror of Donna’s section really pulled me out of the sense of comfort i had started to fall into, right as i was saying to myself “this hasn’t been scary at all”

The return of some series high notes

Revisiting things in previous Resident Evil games is not always a bad thing. I really enjoyed the return of weapon customization and treasures, those were aspects i enjoyed in RE4 and RE5. The return of the Merchant, in the form of the Duke, was welcome as well. The Duke is a G - he’s a good guy and i respected him most

Graphics, scenery, etc.

It’s a pretty game to look at, there’s no getting around that. I liked the set pieces, especially the Castle portion

Ammo crafting

Now this was something i greatly enjoyed. There are often times you get too much ammo for the gun you use least or you run out of ammo in harder difficulty levels. Being able to collect scrap material and make your own ammo was a very nice addition that i greatly appreciated

The Bad

(some of these are going to be personal opinions about the storytelling and narrative choices, so be prepared for that)

Pacing and direction

RE7 was a return to the series’ “roots”: so back to the footnotes of RE1 and RE2. If that was the case with 7, then RE8 did a speed run of RE3, Code Veronica, RE4, RE5, and RE6 all at once.

I know i said earlier revisiting hallmarks from previous games isn’t a bad thing, and it’s not - but while RE7 did it masterfully with sticking to mainly RE1 and RE2 and pulling in just a few old hallmarks, RE8 went absolutely buck wild in trying to cram in as many past enemy types and encounters as possible. A callback to one standout enemy is one thing, ala the Stalker type that is Mr. X, Nemesis, and Ustanak that Lady Dimitrescu also serves as...but then also the giant water monster from RE4, the Executioner of RE5, the “chainsaw” enemies (here, drills instead) of RE4, RE5, and RE6. hell, even the Lycans after a time started to feel very Las Plagas-esque in their ability to use weapons and track and coordinate. And you can’t tell me you didn’t see very similar designs/similarities between Miranda’s boss battle that you did with Alexia’s in Code Veronica...

The pacing started off solid with the initial few segments, but quickly seemed to lose its footing once it oscillated violently between wildly different styles of play and storytelling and didn’t regain its stride the rest of the game. One moment, it’s classic RE. The next, it’s P.T. + Outlast. The next, back to “a mash up of action and horror, leaning more on action” styles of RE4 + RE5. Then the finale straight up started to feel like an entirely different game before you reached that final boss fight - it felt like i was jerked in one direction one minute, and a completely different one the next

There is a lot of exposition and explaining that doesn’t happen until legit the last 45 or so minutes. Not new for the series to withhold information until the back half of the game, but there was legit almost no build up to the very sudden plot bombs that got dropped successively in the last throes of the story. Previous games rewarded you with fragments at a fairly even pace - i felt like all of RE8′s story gets dropped on you in a single monologue and a handful of notes just before the endgame

I’m not even gonna go that deep into how hard it was to keep up with all the different infection methods the mold managed to have - it was just A Lot and i’ve played a lot of Resident Evil in the past, so i know just how many different ways a single pathogen can have on humans and animals...and it still felt excessive

I honestly felt like the third segment with Moreau wasn’t even necessary. they really played up these “four lords” to not have them do a whole lot of anything. and i know there’s always been mini bosses before you actually reach the final Big Bad, but seriously, Moreau’s segment can be blitzed through in a span of 20 minutes or so first playthrough. the castle segment with Dimitrescu was solid, the house segment with Donna was nightmare fuel, lmfao, but still engaging and challenging. by the time you get to the third and sprint right through, you’re left wondering what the point of it even was. you can tell that was the least cared about narrative arc in the whole story

A giant point of note is that a huge chunk of RE8′s story could have been avoided or altered had Chris just actually fucking spoken to Ethan at the start about what the fuck was going on. And for him not to is completely unlike Chris past RE5 and RE6, that made no narrative sense whatsoever. Just another opportunity to pile on some more trauma and guilt onto Chris’ shoulders by making him “responsible” for Ethan being pushed to far and dying as a result

“Ethan actually ‘died’ when first meeting Jack Baker and was completely taken over by mold, it’s a big secret to everyone but Mia. also, he’s gone too far, there’s no saving him, he had to die”

You’re going to tell me that Ethan still being infected or impacted by the mold from RE7 is some big secret??? did the BSAA not run tests on him and Mia to make sure they were back to normal levels??? how do they not know?!? the government was able to figure out that Sherry’s exposure to the G Virus altered her permanently and study her healing capabilities, how the fuck was that not the same with Ethan???

Also, how is it that the mold’s impact on him is so much higher? he was at the Baker estate for like, 2 days max and while, yes, he did sustain some serious damage, he never fell prey to Eveline’s control and showed absolutely no signs of infection outside of being able to heal/use his hand after it was chopped off. and depending on how you played RE7, the only major injury he sustains aside from probable bruising or broken bones is that hand being cut off as mentioned before

You’re also going to tell me of the number of Resident Evil characters who have been infected with viruses and parasites and what have you and have been cured or had the negative effects negated, Ethan was the only one “too far gone” to be saved??? Jill got infected with T Virus, Claire has been infected by two separate viruses, Leon has survived a parasite infection, both Zoe and Mia were exposed to mold for years and seem to be okay...why is it that Ethan was the only one who couldn’t be saved? because he “died”? how in the world did he get infected so fast - he’d been there an hour, max! - that he was able to be revived in the first place and it wasn’t even noticeable that he had changed at all???

“the BSAA can’t be trusted anymore, they’re involved in shady shit, like deploying bioweapons into battle”

we already went through this a bit back in Revelations 1 with the blackmailed director and double agents. but to full on go “well, the entire organization is now dirty” after it was legit founded by Chris, Jill, and Barry to combat bioterrorism really sits wrong with me. all i can think is that they are running out of villains at this point and now are poising the BSAA to be a Big Bad in the future. which, again, doesn’t sit right with me

Retconning

Tying Ozwell E. Spencer back to Miranda wasn’t such a huge dealbreaker for me, but it is a bit obnoxious to now have to go back and amend “he came up with the idea for Umbrella and its pursuits with Marcus and Ashford, its other founding members” to “well, he didn’t actually come up with the idea for Umbrella and its research with Marcus and Ashford, he already had the idea from his time spent with Miranda uwu”

More so, the retconning around Eveline is a bit of a pain in the ass. So she only came about as a result of Miranda crossing paths with the Connections and giving them some of her mold to work with? And Eveline was only a failed experiment to Miranda in her attempt to be able to transfer her daughter’s essence/subconscious/whatever into a living child? And there are pictures of ‘10 year old” Eveline in Miranda’s possession - how come Evie didn’t have any memory of her at all (speaking of Evie, why the fuck did she appear in 8 briefly as a hallucination [?] to explain to Ethan his condition???)

How are you going to try and tell me that some village from prior to the 19th century was using the “Umbrella” symbol and Spencer just snatched it for himself? that was just stupid, honestly - even more stupid how Ethan didn’t recognize the symbol, despite flying off in a Blue UMBRELLA helicopter at the end of RE7

Mocap and cutscenes

Was it just me or did parts of this game look severely unpolished compared to RE7??? some parts looked good - like the Dimitresus all seemed to be rendered very well. It became very noticeable to me in the back half of the game, mainly with Chris and Mia, but a little with Heisenberg too, where their mouths didn’t match up with the dialogue a lot and they looked a lot less put together than previous scenes and characters. Mia in particular, i was struck by how much better her mocap seemed in RE7 compared to RE8. Maybe because there was a bigger ensemble cast in 8 that they spread themselves a little too thin in that regard?

[kadeuxhyeonju]

Rip Out My Heart

*TW: child abuse, violence, mentions of mental abuse (with kitsune illusions), emotional abuse ~all under “keep reading”

Self-Para-- (REALLY LONG--last one for a while) 

Kadeu, Hearts Territory, Heart Side of The Joker Lee Hyeonju, Teenager, Night of Defection

Hyeonju did not look back. With his feet now standing over the invisible line that marked one faction from another, the young man’s wrist, only moments before marked with a Seven, was now emblazoned with a One. He’d done it. He’d finally summoned the courage, the audacity to walk away from Spade—from his mother. Now he walked to the end of the Joker, into Heart, stood at the edge, waiting.

“Well, look at that.” Hyeonju whipped his head toward a nearby alley. A man adorned in the most beautiful of garments stepped out into the lights given off by the nighttime businesses of Heart. Park Minjun. His father and a newly promoted Jack of Hearts. ”Our Lil Kit is growing up, defecting and making trouble. I didn’t think you’d do it.” Hyeonju prickled at the name. He didn’t like being called that. But it was his father and he respected—feared—him so he kept his voice even and controlled. “I did what I needed to do.” His father laughed at that. “Your face says otherwise, Lil Kit. Well, it doesn’t matter. You’re a Heart now. When Spade finds out you defected you won’t be welcomed back.”

Hyeonju refused to look behind him toward the dark streets of Spade. He refused to regret his choice. This was his one and only chance for freedom. He looked up at his father only to notice the stunning colors and sounds that came to life in the nighttime of Heart behind the Kitsune. He smiled, hope glittering in his eyes. “That’s okay. I don’t want to go back.” His father smiled with something akin to pride and ruffled the young man’s hair with his clawed hands—he seemed to relish showing off his foxy features; Hyeonju had no idea what he looked like without them. “That’s my Kit. Alright, follow me and we’ll make sure you rise to the top in no time.” Hyeonju’s feet carried him forward until he was swallowed by the temptations of Heart.

Hyeonju, Teenager, Heart Territory, Rank 1, End of First Year

“Is this a joke to you, Lil Shit?” Hyeonju was sprawled on the ground, his body wracked with shivers and pains too numerous to count. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a decent meal. He lived off the leftovers those of higher rank tossed in the trash bins or on the ground. He hadn’t eaten a human since his mother’s last meal for him in Spade before he’d promptly snuck out of the barracks and defected. His Kistune powers were nowhere to be found. The only reason he’d lasted this long without succumbing to the drugs and thievery rampant in Heart was no doubt because of his Strongarm blood. He didn’t have the species’ strength, but their endurance and hardiness seemed to be working just fine. After all, the kicks and punches his father was doling out didn’t leave him broken like he knew it would full-blooded Kitsune.

Minjun looked down on him in disgust. They were in an alleyway somewhere in the High Rankers’ district. His father, realizing that Hyeonju had failed to rise to even a Two, had hauled the teenager from where he’d found him hiding next to a trash can and given the hybrid the thrashing of his life. Word was getting around—Lee Hyeonju, Spade Deserter, had failed to rise in rank among the Hearts. Now Park Minjun, sponsor and father to the child, was suffering the consequences.

Now Hyeonju was suffering, too.

Why haven’t you risen in rank, huh? I’ve provided you every opportunity, your mother gave you the combat skills, I gave you the art of etiquette and business. All you had to do was earn some quick cash, you Lil Shit. All you needed was to follow what I taught you. And you couldn’t even do that much. You’re a failure, Hyeonju!” Hyeonju mumbled something. “What was that? Speak louder, Lil Kit. I know we didn’t teach you to mumble.”

“I said I can’t do it!” Hyeonju yelled, lifting his head from the ground to reveal the desperation and defeat in his features. His father looked at him for a moment before bursting into laughter, but it wasn’t amused, not in the slightest. He grabbed Hyeonju by the back of the neck and lifted him so they were eye to eye. “You can’t do it?” the soft voice sent a ripple of fear through the young hybrid. He knew what came from this voice, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. The illusions his father created were levels beyond his own.

And they were terrifying.

The horror was inescapable so long as his father held him in place and Hyeonju was forced to endure it. By the time his father lifted the illusion, his son was a pile of fear and despair. Minjun looked down on him coldly. “You’re weak, Hyeonju. You won’t eat humans because you feel bad. You won’t steal because it’s dishonest. You won’t lie or get angry or cheat or charm or do JACK SHIT because you’re a weak lil bastard. You have some of the biggest potential given what we’ve taught you, but you can’t be bothered to use it. Let me give you a word of advice, my precious son. Kindness is weakness. Love and empathy and honor will get you killed. And even if you were to give those useless feelings of yours to another,” Minjun bent down and whispered, “someone like you will never receive it. You’re unlovable, Lee Hyeonju. Your mother and I are proof of that. You’ll die here in the gutters, unloved and forgotten by the world. Gods know I certainly won’t bother to think of you.”

At that, Hyeonju lifted his head and tears streamed down his face as he realized what his father was about to do. “Wait, father, please—don’t!” But it was too late. His father’s back was towards him, polished boots striding at a smooth and steady pace away from his son and toward the bustling, clean streets of Heart. “Don’t ever contact me, Lil Jun. If you do, I’ll kill you and throw your corpse to a manabeast. Let a hunter find you in their catch’s belly. Better yet, I’ll throw you in the nearest river and watch you sink. Feed the fish. You’re more useful dead, right?” Even with those threats hanging over his head, Hyeonju tried to give chase, but the pain from the pummeling and the mental exhaustion from the torturous illusions sent the hybrid sprawling in the dirt, unseen by the world.

Hyeonju was left to stare at the rolling grey clouds, a reflection of his emotions, his life. It seemed to be a never-ending sky of grey and rain and storms that shook him until his soul was scattered petals in the wind, until those pieces landed under the privileged feet of Kadeu and were grounded unawares to the persons above. Hyeonju had given up his life in Spade—risked the wrath of his mother, the ridicule of his father. He had seen the wealth and laughter and freedom granted in Heart and thought that maybe—just maybe—he could find a place among these colorful folk with their finery and elegant airs and boastful minds. All he had found this past year was a well of lies hidden behind jeweled masks and calculated smiles and cold, assessing gazes who saw Hyeonju as a commodity rather than a living being.

He lay there for an eternity, his father’s words like a mantra seeping its way beneath his skin to wrap around his heart, stitching itself into his very essence. When he had the strength to lift himself from the ground, the Rank One trudged his way back to the dregs of Heart. There he found the half-starved populace of Low Ranker humans too weak to survive in a world full of species who surpassed them in every way. Hyeonju wasn’t far from becoming like them, weak as he was. His stomach rumbled. When was the last time he ate? He glanced at the huddled figures, paused, then shook his head and continued on. He couldn’t do it. Not even to keep himself alive. Shame rose within him. He dug through the trash bins later that night. Eating half-eaten…something, Hyeonju huddled in a corner as thunder roared overhead, alone and forgotten.

Hyeonju, 152, Heart Territory, Vega Gem Apartment, Now, Rank Ten

The lightening could be seen flashing around the edges of the black-out curtains cloaking the windows of Hyeonju’s condo. The man himself was sitting on his bed with his back against the wall. The storms seemed to be never-ending—and the memories that came with them. He wrapped the blankets around himself. Below the sheets, his hands fiddled with a dagger, old but well-cared for. His eyes remained unblinking, body shuddering at the rumble of thunder the only indication the Ten of Heart was alive—though not well.

The memories assaulted him, made his body tense as if he were reliving each moment again and again and again. All the while, Hyeonju couldn’t help but think in the back of his mind how ironic his life was. He had defected Spade to escape the pain his mother had caused, the scorn of his fellow Spades for not sharing the same pride they did. He had firmly believed that by joining Hearts, working hard, he’d achieve freedom, happiness. Hyeonju would never have to fight, never lie, never feel fear or anger if he could just make it to the top running on his pure, naive values.

What a joke. Not only had the hybrid failed to gain the freedom he so desperately sought, but he was plagued by the horrors he’d endured as a Low Ranker. He learned to beg, steal, lie, cheat, fight, kill. He made money and gained power off the backs of humans he consumed and throwing others, human and and everything in between, under the carriage.

Hyeonju had become everything he hated and more.

Hyeonju didn’t regret surviving, didn’t regret his choices because there was no point. Even if he’d been granted a second chance to make a different decision, he wasn’t sure he’d change anything because there was no guarantee he would be better off. At least in this life, he knew the hand he was dealt and could adapt as needed. Nonetheless, Hyeonju found himself haunted by faces of humans he’d beckoned to dark corners with trusting, beguiling eyes and pretty illusions only for their expressions to take on terror as he slaughtered them like cattle, consuming them with a desperation he couldn’t shake. He remembered the nights at the Red Dragon and Secret Room full of patrons seeking his physical company and all the pleasures they could afford with their bags of coins. Some were kind, most were...not. He remembers the words tossed at him for being everything he was. He can even pinpoint the exacts moments when pieces of himself he’d cherished fell off him like rusted, useless armor.

The memories, brought on by the tumultuous downpour and raging thunder, made the Ten of Heart want to scream. But he didn’t. His parents had taught him screaming was for the weak. Crying was for those who refused to do nothing to save themselves. So he held it in, though a part of him--a huge part of him--wanted nothing more than to let it all out, to have someone listen and not lift a hand in violence towards him or throw poison-laced insults his way or laugh.

He glanced at the amulet sitting on the pillow beside him. Maybe he could call for one of his friends. Max? She had no idea what he’d gone through in Hearts. Nari? She was plagued with traumas of her own. He wouldn’t dare to burden her with his. Sullivan? The man was as gentle as they came. He couldn’t bear the thought of sharing something so painful with someone so kind. Hyeonju raked his head for somebody—anybody to call, but each was met with the same thought—who would come? Who would understand? Among those who did—which would love him, despite all the terrible things he was made of?

You’re unloveable, Lee Hyeonju.

Thunder slammed against his ears, he closed his eyes. No tears threatened to spill—he’d forgotten how to do that long ago. He took the amulet from his pillow, stared at it, tossed it toward the kitchen where he heard it clatter against the floor. He pulled the blanket over his head and pulled the knife close to his chest. The storm raged on.

[sazandorable]

MAG146 got me thinking again about the (few) people who get away and the ones that don’t

this isn’t particularly important or new but i just think it’s neat how there are, broadly, 3 different manners in which people continue to get supernatural experiences after a first encounter, sometimes until death (and they weren’t very obviously different at the start of the series):

deliberate chasing by a person/sentient being (eg: the Distortion playing with the McKenzies, the way Jude Perry still keeps an eye on the kid of her first victim and intended to hurt Jack Barnabas, Carlos Vittery was most likely a victim of revenge for his spider-murder, seems to have been Mike Crew’s case, the blanket monster from Tucked In, Jane Prentiss coming after the Archives)

a non-sentient monster/item/place just... existing around you, and not out to get you specifically (eg: the garbage at the house from Thrown Away, Ivo Lensik going back to work on Hill Top Road, the giant thing in space that Jan Kilbride heard and eventually encountered just because... he was... in space..., the being that may or may not have been standing Upon The Stair, the exterminator from Pest Control who probably just keeps running into unrelated Corruption cases coincidentally because of his job; lots of Leitners as well as the vase from Lost And Found may count, though lots of them do seem to attach themselves to the statement-giver specifically after a possibly accidental first encounter)

the pure essence of a fear unleashing on you (eg: Jason North having his entire life burnt and destroyed in Burnt Offering; possibly also the nature of the curse of Piecemeal and the reason why Oliver Banks just randomly started having dreams; possibly Decrypted; quite probably the nature of Jon’s dreams)

And these explain why someone may or may not manage to get away for good.

In the 1st case, you might get away for real if the chaser just decides to stop bothering (with) you (the Distortion didn’t need to eat Marcus McKenzie and could have conceivably gotten bored of its game with him), or is given reason to (Jack Barnabas — although the Lightless Flame might come after him now that Gertrude has died), or is destroyed before you are (Julia has probably gotten away from the Church and its beast). Or you might just die from something else first (Paul McKenzie... technically was natural causes).

In the 2nd case, if you were just there, and not a specific target, chances are you can get out scot-free (or could have if you’d realised what the issue was coming from in time). The coroner from Taken Ill lost her hand because she came into direct contact with the infection, but she’s probably good now.

In the 3rd case... you’re fucked. Although Jason North, with his sacrifice, did manage to stop it from affecting his son!

So it’s interesting to differentiate those cases and realises that you’re not always necessarily doomed — you rarely truly are, actually! Most of the time, it’s ‘‘‘‘‘‘‘just’’’’’’’ a matter of encountering something powerful without the knowledge nor means to fight it, but someone (like Gertrude, Gerry, Adelard...) might conceivably survive the exact same situation. 

... And one of my favourite things is when we or the characters think it’s one situation, and it turns out to be really another.

There’s a very big difference between the child of Jason North from Burnt Offering and the child of Nicholas Tregenza, Jude Perry’s first victim from Twice as Bright. Jason managed to save his son because the Desolation was unleashed on him, specifically; if he had been pursued by an avatar, it’s likely that they would have just moved on to his son to continue feeding from him, the way Jude is doing with Desmond Tregenza.

The Montauks seemed to be doomed and pursued for life by the Dark, but it was all very deliberate and stemming from personal grudges, and Julia has outlived the Church.

Similarly but with a different outcome, Sebastian Adekoya did not die from boneturning because he had encountered The Boneturner’s Tale. He could conceivably have lived long and gone the rest of his life not running into any other supernatural event. He just died from having been considered a prick by Jared Hopworth, who decided to kill him.

Evan Lukas: until Family Business, I assumed he’d ‘naturally’ died from going against his ‘nature’ as a servant of the Lonely, but Gerry and Jon raise the possibility that he was just killed off by his angry family.

... For a long time, I thought Not!Sasha was chilling and just existing and living its monster life, and while Sasha’s death was tragic and horrifying, it was almost funny to see Jon go insane with paranoia while completely skipping over her. BUT NO. NOT!SASHA VERY MUCH HAD SPECIFIC PLANS TO FUCK WITH JON SPECIFICALLY.

Tim was never chased by the Stranger. Nikola recognised him, but they didn’t seem to be after him; he only kept encountering them and running into circus cases because he was actively searching for it. He got away the first time; he could, conceivably, have never encountered them again. He almost did and I genuinely think it wasn’t doomed fate, just choices and real coincidence that the Unknowing was attempted in his lifetime.

... and perhaps I do have a small point after all:

... Before this occurred to me, I thought that Jon was touched-by-the-spiders for life and couldn’t ever truly escape them. But that’s not at all necessarily the case — there are quite a few statement-givers that have had 1 accidental encounter and that was it. Meaning...

1) The fact that there are still spiders after him means something more — they have a specific reason to still be chasing him. It’s not just to be expected because he happened to half-read a book twenty years ago.

2) ... He’s not doomed. He might be able to get away from them after all, one way or another. Perhaps even in as simple a way as killing Annabelle or even just yelling at her really hard until she gets bored, or if someone manages to get rid of his lighter for good.

[thejackalsden]

Gabriel ‘Reaper’ Reyes - Blackwatch Commander, Saboteur, Assassin, Eldritch Abomination

Available Verse; - Overwatch - (Tentatively) Apex Legends

Notes of Importance for the Muse;

Before Reaper

- Latin-American upbringing, slips into Spanish when truly frustrated and angry, or jokingly. - Only child, to two military parents who didn’t have much time for him, so his Grandmother raised him. As such, Gabe is a damn good cook, thanks to his Abuela, and he will happily recreate her recipes when he’s feeling homesick. - Growing up, excelled in History and English - Science and Math were never a strong suit, sadly, not until his secondary education in the military. Adored military history and how it shifted over the decades. - Definitely a dog person - up until he becomes Reaper, Gabe always has a dog where he lives, usually a Belgian Malinois that doubles as a working dog in a pinch. Even if that working just means laying in his office and distracting him from the tedium of paperwork - Bleeding heart for his soldiers; it’s why he’s so willing to take in McCree and Shimada when they need it. It wasn’t just for their skill set, he does genuinely care, he just has an odd way of showing it. - The Super Soldier Serum had terrible side effects, manifesting in a genetic degradation; Gabriel opted to go to Moira (Geneticist) over Angela (Surgeon) for the sole reason he didn’t want to see the disappointment on Angela’s face when he couldn’t be cured. - Never agreed to become a new experiment, but had no other choice, given his fear of dying and wanting a cure.

After Reaper

- Very little of Gabriel remains - Remembers next to nothing of his life as Gabriel after being reanimated after the Swiss Base Incident - doesn’t seem too bothered by it. - Survives of life ‘Essence’ (Souls/Will To Live) to maintain his appearance as ‘human’ as possible. The longer it’s gone without him eating, the more the darkness and corruption swarms forward; making him look more like an Eldritch Horror than the man he once was - Works with Talon - not for or against, just happens to be able to murder and survive as needed, so he stays. Has no care, one way or the other, who the bad or good guys are. - Actively hunts Overwatch Agents as a game - easy to pin, enjoys the panic and the chaos it causes, though there are a few that give him pause, a niggling ache in the back of his mind for reasons he cannot grasp solidly.

Headcanons of Note;

Reaper is the Apex Predator due to his condition. In a fight, even before the disbanding of Overwatch, there was an alpha complex to keep his team safe and hunt down any who would dare go against him and go for his team. Reaper present day is split; there's the predator, Cazador, that is there to destroy and kill, but there's also the softer side of Gabriel that shines through, the Guardian, that wants to help protect, help shield the innocents as best he can. It's a constant conflict in his mind, but usually the Cazador wins, and very few can boast surviving a run in with him.

Violence is something Reaper thrives in, though, and even Gabriel had his enjoyment of it - visceral, carnal pleasures - in being able to protect at the same time of aggression. The Super Soldier Serum was the beginning of his mental instability, though getting caught in the explosion of the Swiss Base, and that attempt of a Rez by Mercy, only exacerbated his condition, sped it up to what it is present day as Reaper - the instability, the mental schism that he seems like two different people.

He has spent years being able to read people. While he's not 100% over the fact Jack got SC over him, he knows it was for the better in the long run. Both mindsets of Gabriel's will stop at little to get to his end goal, and he is manipulative to a fault. While not easy to sway from his own desires, he does have means of usually getting what he wants.

Reaper does not take kindly to being called Gabe by those who know his true name - he will happily slam you into a wall by your own throat if he is not in the mood to entertain such idiocy.

His accelerated regen/decay began with the Super Soldier Program when he was initially introduced to it. Moira fed into it and enhanced it, and Mercy sped up the progress with the failed Rez attempt post Zurich. It should be noted; he does not hold either party at fault; it has allowed him to become what he is today, though he won’t hesitate to lord it over either of their heads for a good guilt trip..

[mca-attack21]

The Parting of Ways

This imagine is based off of Episode 13 of season 1 with the 9th Doctor and the reader. It can be read as part two of “Bad Wolf” or as a stand alone imagine. Enjoy! Word Count: 1920  This is my Masterlist!

You were still trapped on the Dalek ship. But you didn’t lose hope, after all the Doctor had told you he was coming for you. And to date he had given you every reason to believed him. This however did not mean that you were not scared. On the contrary, you were terrified. You had already seen one Dalek kill hundred’s of trained soldiers and now you were in a room with thousands of them. They questioned you about the Doctor, asking you to predict his next move. And then they made you watch as they bombed the TARDIS. You watched it disappear into nothing. 

You started to lose hope when you found yourself inside the TARDIS. One of the Daleks had been beside you and aimed his ray at the Doctor. “Get Down!” you yelled and he ducked just in time. Jack quickly fired at the Dalek killing it instantly.

After the shot, the Doctor rushed towards you, hugging you tightly. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in years.” you breathed taking in his familiar scent.

“I told you I’d come for you” he whispered.

“Never doubted it” you assured.

“ I did. You alright?” he asked pulling away to look you over.

“Yeah. And you?” you asked.

“Not bad, I’ve been better.” he said as he stepped towards the Dalek remembering that this whole thing was far from over.

“Hey, don’t I get a hug?” Jack said from the console.

“Oh come here” you answered, arms open.

“I was talking to him,” Jack joked before pulling you close. “Welcome home”

“I thought I was never going to see you again” you replied.

“You were lucky, that was just a one shot wonder. I drained the gun of all its’ power supply. Now it’s just a piece of junk,” he said referring to the shot that took out the Dalek as his tossed the gun aside.

“So what do we do now Doctor? There are thousands of them out there and we could barely take down one?” you asked.

“We go see what they want” he said before exiting the TARDIS,

“Doctor they’ll kill you,” you screamed running after him.

And they tried, all blasting at him simultaneously. But it was of no use. He had a force field around him. After a long conversation the doctor had discovered that the emperor of Daleks had survived the Time War and used humans off of earth to create a new line of Daleks. The Doctor summoned you and Jack and went back into the TARDIS. He needed a plan. There were so many Daleks and so little time. The Doctor was trying to create a Delta Wave to destroy all of them at once. But the problem was that they were already headed to the ship and these things take time.

Jack had created a defense plan and was preparing to put it in action. He went over to the Doctor saying “This has been fun,” he said.

You caught him off guard, cutting him off with- “Don’t do that! Don’t act like this is goodbye we are with the Doctor. He’ll figure it out in the end.”

He put his hands on your face and looked into your eyes, “You, Y/f/n Y/l/n, are worth fighting for” and then he kissed you.

He went back to the doctor, “I wish I never met you, Doctor I was much better off as a coward,” he said before kissing him. “See you in hell then,” he replied before running off.

As you and the Doctor were finishing off the wiring for the wave, you spoke up, “Suppose-”, but then you stopped. You knew if there was any other way out of this the Doctor would have already came up with it.

“Suppose what?” he asked.

“Oh nothing, I was just thinking that it would be nice if we could just go back in time and prevent this from happening. But I know that isn’t how it works” you answer.  

“There is something the TARDIS could do. It could take us away. We could leave. Let history run its course. We could go somewhere else. Marbella in 1989?” he said avoiding your eyes.

“Yeah, but you’d never do that. You couldn’t leave all of these innocent people here to die. That’s not who you are.” you answered with certainty.

“No, but you could ask. It never even occurred to you, did it? “ he replied

You were silent for a moment, “I choose this. I choose you. Always have, always will. I know what I signed up for, saving the universe comes with risks. And I wouldn’t change any of it.”

Just then buzzing went off. The delta wave was officially online. It was just a matter of time before it was ready. The Doctor rushed over to the computer to see how long it needed. All hope vanished from his face.

“It’s bad isn’t it?” you questioned.

“It is bad, but if we go in the TARDIS I can use that energy to speed up the process,” he said excitedly as he ran inside you right behind him, “stay here and hold this down, I’m going to go restart the connection,” he said before leaving.

As soon as he exited the TARDIS he dropped his façade. The truth was that there was no way out on this one. Which is why he had to send you home, he had to know you were safe. That way his life would not end in vein.

When the TARDIS started moving you realized what he had done. You ran towards the door trying to open it. You didn’t know how to stop it. You were pounding on the door when a hologram popped up.

It was the Doctor:

“Y/n. If you are seeing this message we must be in danger. And I mean fatal. I am dead or about to be in a second’s time. And that’s okay. I hope it is a good death. I made a promise to keep you safe and that is what I am doing. The TARDIS is taking you home. I bet you are fussing and moaning now. Typical. But hold on and just listen a bit more. The TARDIS can never return for me. Emergency Program One means I’m facing an enemy that should never get their hands on this machine. So this is what you should do. Let the TARDIS die. Let the old box gather dust. No one other that you can open it, no one will ever notice it. Let her become a strange little thing on a street corner. And if you want to remember me you can do one thing, just one. Have a good life. Do that for me Y/n”

The TARDIS stopped and he was gone. You peeked outside to see that you were in fact home. But that was the thing, the doctor had never asked you about your family. He hadn’t known that he was the closest thing to family you had had in a long time.

You started to walk away trying to clear your head and figure out what you could do. That was when you saw it. The words BAD WOLF. They had been everywhere, you had thought the were a warning but maybe not. They were in the future too, with the Doctor 200,000 years in the future. That is when it hit you. When the Slitheen tried to open the the wormhole that would collapse the earth. The Doctor had hit a button that opened a panel into the heart of the TARDIS. The TARDIS was telepathic, she could hear you and take you to him. There is no way she would want her Doctor to suffer.

After hours of trying different buttons and levers and every possible combination of the two (okay maybe not every combination). You finally figured it out. The door slammed shut and the panel opened you looked into her and willed her to return to him. The light overtook all of your senses. All of time and space was coursing through your veins. You didn’t even hear the TARDIS lift off.

-------------------Meanwhile--------------------

Everything was ready, all the Doctor had to do was pull down the lever and there would be no more Daleks. He would be killing billions of innocent humans, but if he didn’t every race would be in danger. He had no choice.

“You really want to think about this,” he urged the emperor as the room started to fill with Daleks, “I pull this trigger and no more Daleks.”

“I want to see you become like me. The Doctor  the great exterminator. What are you coward or killer?” the emperor snapped.

The Doctor hesitated. When did he become so much like the things he was fighting against? “Coward. Coward any day” he answered preparing himself for what he was sure would follow.

“Then you will be exterminated,” the Emperor spoke.

Just then the TARDIS started to materialize. The Doctor didn’t understand. He turned to look at it and was taken aback when the doors open. He had to shield his eyes from the light. It was blinding.

“What have you done?” he demanded as the light faded ever so slightly.

“I did what I had to do. It was the only way to save you,” you answered

“You looked into the time vortex. Y/n- no one is meant to see that. Not even me.” he cried realizing how dire the situation was.

“This-Is-An-Abomination” on of the Daleks screeched.

“Exterminate” another one said as it tried to blast you. You merely returned the energy and looked at your Doctor.

“This is what was meant to happen. It is always what happens. I know that now. This is how I become Bad Wolf, I’ve lead myself here. To this. To save you.”

“Y/n you have to stop this now! You’ve got the entire vortex running through your head. You’re going to burn!” he pleaded with you.

“It will all be worth it as long as you are safe. I can end this, the Dalek’s can be stopped once and for all.”

“You cannot hurt me I am immortal” the Emperor exclaimed

“Nothing can ever truly be immortal. Everything has a weakness. I can see the whole of time and space. I can see every atom of you existence of your essence and I can divide them. Ending the time war once and for all,” you say as the Daleks begin to disappear around you.

The Doctor took a cautious step towards you, “Okay Y/n, you’ve done it, I’m safe now. The Daleks are gone. Now let go of the vortex energy.”

“How can I let go of this? I can save him. I can-” you resurrected Jack before gripping your head, “but why does it hurt?”

“Nobody is meant to harness that much power. You have to let go or it will kill you,” he pleaded.

“I can see everything. All that is, all that was. All that ever could be. It’s beautiful and terrifying” you whimpered starting to lose control.

“That is what I see all the time. Doesn’t it drive you mad?” he asked steadying you.

“I’m sorry, i’m so sorry,” you struggled.

“It’s okay, come here” he said kissing you and extrapolating the Vortex power until your body went limp in his arms. He returned the power to the TARDIS and then carried you to the Med-bay. He had no idea if you were going to be okay or not. Nothing like this had ever happened before. And just to make things worse he could start to feel the regeneration energy coursing through him. So he tapped into your mind.

“Y/n when you wake up. I will be different. You see- timelords have this little trick we do to escape death. I’ll still be the same doctor just different. And I just wanted to say that you and me we were fantastic. Truly fantastic!”

And then it happened he screamed as every cell in his body died. And he morphed into the new doctor just before passing out on the ground beside you.

[thejoshwash]

Create an Unforgettable D&D Character

Choose a Race.

Do you want pointy ears? Demon Horns? or the extra abilities you get as a more versatile human?

  A lot of players choose race to boost their stats based on their class. You want to be a strong fighter, be a half orc or a dwarf that boosts strength. A halfling thief will have more dexterity than most. I'm sure you want to do something you don't get to do in real life.

  Don't be that player who wants to be a dragon. It makes the game harder for everyone. You can totally do it if your DM lets you of course, but you should definitely ask about that one first.

Find the class and their abilities that are right for you.

How does your character like to fight?

How brave/stupid are they?

Would they rather heal their friends instead of seeking out a fight? Be a cleric or a bard.

Would they make tactical plans instead of jumping headfirst into battle?

Would they prefer to make weapons or brew potions instead of fighting?

Would they rather sneak up behind their enemies or karate chop them to death? Rogue or monk.

Would you like to throw fireballs or sing a song to inspire your friends?

Do you spend all your time hugging trees and raising animals? Druid.

Create your personality. Personalities are not classes!

Classes are simply what determines the abilities your character uses.

Personality is how they feel and how they interact with the world.

Batmans personality is a lot different than deadpools. But their goals are almost the same. Protect innocence people and make their world a better place.

  Use a personality you like, copy a famous movie star or character. Do you want to be Indiana Jones or Jack Burton? Are you John Wick or Marty Mcfly? Is your character more like Jack Black than Will Smith? Could you be the next Picard or Mal Reynolds? Steal a personality idea and make it your own. Are you Arya Stark or John Snow? Are you more like Legolas or Bilbo?

What wizard house is your character from?

 Find words that describe a personality or emotion you can base your character on. Are you loving or closed off? Boisterous or stoic? Lazy or intense? Bossy or rude? How do other people perceive your character? Do they want you at all their dinner parties? Or do they tolerate you like an offensively dull co-worker? Is your character only nice to certain people? Are they introverts who can only talk to laid back people?

Develop a voice or accent for your character.

  This adds personality right away. It also helps everyone at the table know if it's you or your character talking. Do you want to sound like LeeLoo or Wonder Woman?

  Maybe your character was burnt in a planet full of lava and now you sound like Darth Vader or Stephen Hawking. You don't have to have a specific accent. Maybe your character talks slower or faster than you do.

Simple backstories are the most effective.

Try to tone down the idea into two or three sentences.

  Give us a simple elevator pitch; I'm a cut purse who grew up on the streets of a shady port town. I ended up traveling with a caravan of merchants to sell snake oil. Now I'm adventuring to meet my long lost sister and maybe make some extra gold along the way.

  If you can tone it down this simply, it becomes a lot more memorable and exciting. No one wants to read your 5 page history. You can write that history of course, but find a way to tone it down and get an essence of the character.

 How did your characters family die? Oh wait, not everyone is an orphan?! Your aunt and uncle didn't die in a fire and inspire you to fight the empire? Maybe your parents got killed when you were a baby and now their killer is a dark lord who wants to attack your high school.

As far as backstories go, you can make up whatever you want. Don't worry about being totally original, because it's all been done before. Put your own spin on it. Who cares if it's already been done, as long as you enjoy it.

 Keep your backstory pretty simple. If it gets too long, it gets harder to add things to it later on during the game. The DM needs something to work off of and your fellow party members should have a way to add their characters to your story.

  Plan with the other players and dungeon master. Maybe the players are all from the same village that was destroyed by orc bandits during the rat wars and now all of you want to get revenge. Maybe your character is a mob boss and your party needs to take out a few rival gang members.

Make sure your character has a goal

 I think the most important thing for a character is a goal. This can directly be related to how you character sees the world and how the world sees you. Do you want to find love? Or do you just want the world to see how smart you are?

  A goal could be as simple as wanting to live alone in your swamp and it eventually brings you love and adventure. Having a goal or a mission will help out the DM with adding your character to the story. Give the DM something to use so your character can be directly involved with whatever is going on.

  Are you looking for your missing brother? Trying to save a soldier named Ryan? Do you want to learn a new powerful spell? Or obtain a legendary weapon? Do you want money?  Or fame? Do you want to save your homeland from a dragon who invaded years ago? Did your mommy get killed by vampires and now you have sworn revenge?

Character goals work with personality.

What does your character care about?

If your character had to fight, what would it be for? Family? Friends? Money? Political power?

Does your character want to control armies or own a large shipping company?

Would your character fight for her homeland or find the easiest way to survive?

Is your character an explorer or scientist? Do they want to study magic or exotic creatures?

Do you want to study mythology or history of your world?

Do you want to craft epic magical weapons or technology to make life easier?

Does your character want to see an elf city in the trees or visit the astral plane and talk to angels?

Do you want to own a castle and have a fancy title?

Don't create a character that won't interact or play well with the group.

RPG's are group games! You need to be interacting with the party and helping them out.

 Your lone wolf type won't be every fun if they aren't talking to anyone. It's OK to be a loner as long as you are still a part of the game. There is no reason a group of characters would work with someone who doesn't work with them. The characters have every right to kick your character out of  the party if they aren't playing well.

  If you want to lone wolf it, talk to a DM about running a solo game. Or make sure the rest of the group agrees before the game starts.

Work Together

  Create with the entire group brainstorming ideas. It also makes the beginning of the game easier if all the characters already know each other and have a common goal.

[dustydreamsanddirtyscars]

1x12 “Faith” // 3x10 “Dream A Little Dream of Me” // 8x01 “We Need to Talk about Kevin”

“If the Tin Man Misses His Heart, So Does an Entire Show“ - On 14x01 “Stranger in a Strange Land” and the Thing about Hearts, Love and Faith

“That's one deep, dark nothing you got there, Dean. Can't fill it, can you? Not with food or drink. Not even with sex. [...] Oh, you can smirk and joke and lie to your brother, lie to yourself, but not to me! I can see inside you, Dean. I can see how broken you are, how defeated. You can't win, and you know it. But you just keep fighting. Just... keep going through the motions. You're not hungry, Dean, because inside, you're already...dead.”

- Famine to Dean in 5x14 “My Bloody Valentine”

---

I admit, it is rather weird to write a piece of meta on an episode underneath a gifset that doesn’t feature a single scene from said episode. It doesn’t for good reason though and that being the fact that iTunes doesn’t have the episode available here in Germany yet, so I couldn’t download it to make gifs, therefore this will have to do. I think though that these scenes above will illustrate well enough why I chose to use them in context to the S14 premiere. It’s plain and simple: To me they capture the essence of what this episode was about and to a huge extent in my personal opinion this episode was about one thing: Faith. Whether it was from Maggie mentioning a rawhead (the monster Dean killed in 1x12 “Faith” and almost killing himself in the process as well) the first man we saw Michael visit who started his day with praying to Mary trying to “keep the faith” that they’ll find Dean to Castiel expressing faith in Jack, who has lost it and the believe in himself to Sister Jo who seems to continue to work as a “faith healer” and saving people.

Faith, the very concept of it has always been something Dean as a character was shown to struggle with on Supernatural. Early on, from the very first season onward and especially set up with the episode 1x12 “Faith” that sees Dean close to dying with a damaged heart after having been electrocuted his’s faith or lack thereof has been an integral part of his journey as a character. In fact it has become a red line running throughout the seasons shining a light on Dean’s state of mind as well as perception of self.

Given all that the opening episode of S14 felt very interesting, because imo it called back to its roots and the episode 1x12 “Faith” as that episode not only truly established the heart symbolism surrounding Dean that has been focal point time and again over the course of 13 years, but also marked Dean’s special place within the grand scheme of things which has always lead all the way to Michael, who of course at present is calling the shots.

And here is where these aspects intertwine rather well, because imo the heavy focus on the heart in 14x01 with Kip for example talking about “eating Sam’s heart out” feels especially striking because Dean is absent. Dean, the tin man, lost his heart, his agency, has become a mere puppet to Michael’s will. And along with Dean essentially losing himself to me the show has lost it’s core, his heart too and that was strikingly showcased this episode.

Now, I know many people are going to hate me for saying this, but to me this set up makes one thing perfectly clear: Supernatural cannot work without Dean (which is why Dean is never allowed to not be around for longer periods at a time), because it lacks its heart, the PoV character, the narrator, the one who is holding everything together - and with that also has become the one who has steadily fallen apart due to the weight he carries on his shoulders, because he never once has put himself first or believed he mattered (and frankly ever since that god awful scene at the end of S12 with Dean trying to save Mary by going inside her mind also was plain shown that he indeed doesn’t seem to matter as a person in his own right, but only in extension to someone else) and with that thought he deserved to be saved.

To me this first episode spelt out perfectly the only way Dean should be able to “beat” Michael in the long run (I assume that even though Dean may appear “saved” but really won’t be - I guess they will play up some parallels between Nick and his possession and the aftermath for him with Dean, though frankly this whole thing was the most stupid move, because the vessel Lucifer inhabited was artificially made by Crowley and had nothing to do with Nick anymore, so... duuuhhh + if they needed this for dramataic purposes, Dean sharing with Sam those experiences would have made more sense and would be much more meaningful, but anyway...) lies in the small but important fact of Dean finding self worth and love for himself. The episode has shown one thing clearly and that is that Michael is completely unable to grasp the concept of what love means, it escapes him or at the very least annoys and bewilders him. Just like Lucifer never knew what Baby could trigger for Sam in 5x2 “Swan Song” neither understands Michael the meaning of love. And especially so if it is love for someone else. The only thing he knows about that is how he can use it to manipulate people and that’s how he was able to get Dean too after all.

And here is where I found Michael’s question to his counterparts interesting (though I quite frankly had to roll my eyes at Dabb here too, because really? Now even so obviously reference/steal from Lucifer from “Lucifer” and his “what do you desire?”-style), because every single time, every single answer featured love for someone else and belonging in some fashion, things Michael obviously seems to despise and count as a weakness (he is very Voldemort in that regard actually...) unless it is directed at oneself.

What do I mean with that? Obviously, Michael had asked Kip the question of “what he wants” as well and after some thinking he had come to the conclusion, a very selfish one: Everything. Well, as one says that’s how the mighty fall, but what I felt important in this context is how Kip managed to “survive” Michael and how Michael befriends a vampire at the end of the episode (for its “pure” reasons - lots of callbacks and parallels to purgatory with Dean and Dean and famine here, which I can’t possible work into this text right now, but there are a few fitting things in these storylines relevant to the current set up). They both think of themselves, put themselves first, “love” themselves if you will and THAT is something very strikingly different to Dean, because Dean doesn’t care about himself, doesn’t put himself first and truly has no love for himself. That is exactly why imo Michael has such a strong hold over him, why Michael could overpower Dean. It’s based in Dean’s lack of self worth and that aspect to is directly connected to faith - faith as such as well as the episode from S1.

More than once on the show it was addressed that Dean doesn’t think he deserves to be saved. Be it due to what he did in Hell or plain and simple due to the fact he thinks no one could or should ever love him. I truly think that is why Dean is so vulnerable to be overpowered by Michael, because in opposition to Dean Michael has all the love for himself but none for anybody else. He is self confident to the point of arrogance and being a complete megalomaniac, but point is, he feels worthy. That’s where he draws strength from. Dean on the other hand feels the opposite, has never learnt to form a healthy image of self. That is where to me the aspects of purity and hunger come into play here and especially so Famine’s words to Dean, because even though it is 9 years later, Dean doesn’t feel any different really, he never healed but only accumulated more scars, more trauma, more reasons to hate himself. He has been deeply depressed for a long time and shown to be tired and at the end of his rope, ready to lay his head to rest. Amara to echoed these sentiments previously said by Famine, that Dean feels empty. And well, doesn’t someone who feels empty and despises himself allow all the more room as a literal vessel for someone to inhabit?

So what does it all come down to? My personal takeaway from this episode was that there is only one way to “save” Dean and that is by Dean saving himself. And that may be the hardest part, because as all of the gifs capture above Dean struggles to see himself as worthy to be saved, as important and lovable, because he simply doesn’t feel any of those things for himself. But if I was part of the writing team, this aspect would be the vital aspect for Sam, Jack and Co. to get Dean back, getting Dean to build up his own self worth, loving himself and with that becoming strong enough to fight Michael off who really doesn’t know humanity at all. Dean’s love for his loved ones has proven to “move mountains”, who knows what he could move if he had found just a shred of that immens capacity to love for himself...

[crisisoninfintefandoms]

Love and Sacrifice: Will Graham and the Great Red Dragon

So, there’s a common (not universal, but common) fanon and fanfic trope, that after the Fall, despite Will’s apparent attempt to kill both Hannibal and himself, that after surviving he won’t really try again--that whatever happens with him and Hannibal post series, it won’t involve us worrying that Will’s gonna try to off Hannibal again, and that they’re sort of done with that.  And I’m going to talk about why I don’t think that’s a crazy conclusion to come to or merely a product of wishful shippy thinking.  I mean, it’s definitely somewhat motivated by wishful shippy thinking, but I also think the audience is picking up on something actually present in the text, that something has to do with with Francis Dolarhyde, the Great Red Dragon, and Reba McClane. 

This got long y’all, so be warned. 

Recently I made a bit of an offhanded post about the parallels evident opening and closing of the series finale episode, The Wrath of the Lamb: we open seeing Dolarhyde attempt to burn Reba alive and blow his head off with a fiream (not really, but that’s what we see), and we close on Will plunging both himself and Hannibal into the Atlantic.  Two apparent murder/suicides, the first in fire, the second in water.  It’s a neat little bookmark, a nice bit of artistic symmetry.  But, practically speaking, what it ends up doing is subliminally linking Francis/Reba and Will/Hannibal, and since the Francis/Reba/Fire stuff happens first, it serves as a kind of set up, foreshadowing, and, in a way, a blueprint of sorts for the Will/Hannibal stuff that happens later.  For instance, both Reba and Francis survive their murder/suicide scene, and, presumably, so do Hannibal and Will.    

Which brings me to my first rhetorical question: was anybody worried that after Reba got out and survived the fire, that Francis would come after her again?  No?  Me neither.  If that concern is ever mentioned on the show, it’s very underplayed and not at all the focus.  Will doesn’t seem worried about that.  Jack’s not worried about that.  Hell, Reba doesn’t even seem worried about that.  Now, sequentially of course, they think that Francis is dead initially, but that gets disproved almost immediately (and who in the audience was really buying that anyway?), and we never get a scene really following up or addressing that.  I mean, when Jack is told by Team Sassy Science that the corpse isn’t Dolarhyde, he doesn’t go, “Oh shit, better call Ms. McClane, better put a guard on her, she was his last target and he might come back to finish the job.”  Naw.  Nothin’.  They’re all fully on to the Hannibal Bait plan.  And this isn’t framed as them being irresponsible either, cause there’s never any adverse consequences to that.  Like, say, Will sets up his whole plan, they’re all ready to kill Dolarhyde, but WHOOPS, he actually throws them for a loop and goes after Reba instead!  Oh, the woeful tragedy!  Oh, their terrible short sighted hubris!  I mean, it would’ve been an entirely different story, is my point, one that we’ve seen before, and likely may have been expecting if the show didn’t work so very effectively to put even the possibility of it out of our minds.    

Instead, as an audience, we are told in every bit of narrative and cinematic language that, while she might be emotionally scarred or traumatized by what happened, Reba is safe.  That we don’t need to worry about it..  And, so, we don’t.  In fact,  we’re not even really worried that Dolarhyde might go after her later, if he succeeded in killing Will and Hannibal and surviving (that could’ve been played up as an element of tension, to raise the stakes in that final battle even higher, but again, nope.  Different story).  Because this story has somehow conveyed to us, subliminally but unequivocally, that Dolarhyde will not try again.  That his danger, to Reba specifically, is over.  And, so, because of the parallel that’s been set up, when Will and Hannibal act out a similar script, we instinctively take some cues from that script to inform our presumptions of how it turns out, simply based on our familiarity with narrative foreshadowing and the human tendency toward pattern recognition.

But let’s delve a little deeper: why won’t Dolarhyde try again?  We could take it simply as a plot and narrative device to keep the episode moving and keep the audience focused on the the main story (which...yeah, it is) but I think an argument can be made on an in universe, Watsonian, purely character based level as well.  

Follow me on this:

First of all, he doesn’t remotely try to kill Reba the way he does his other victims-- he doesn’t shoot her, which of course he could do easily.  Heck, there are, like, a dozen simpler, more effective ways Francis could have gone for other than setting the damn house on fire.  So why do that in the first place?  Well, clearly, he doesn’t want to kill her, and as Will even says later, in the end he couldn’t.  But then why do the whole fire thing at all?  Just to fake his own death?  Seems a bit much.  PLUS, if he genuinely really wanted Reba to not die, then that’s putting her in a huge amount of risk just to cover up his own fake death, which then gets disproved almost immediately anyway.  So, we could conclude that maybe he just doesn’t really care about Reba that much, but that’s clearly untrue.  So what’s going on here?  

Well, Francis doesn’t want to kill Reba...but it’s clear the Dragon does.  That’s something set up in earlier scenes--chilling moments where Francis is fighting against the voice inside him that wants, nay, demands that she die, and that he be the one to kill her.  So, I think, the fire was a sacrifice, and a bargain, with the Dragon.  It’s Francis saying, “Okay Dragon, I’m gonna kill her, I’m gonna go for it, I’m gonna lock her in a room and set it on fire.  But.  If she makes it out...then that’s it.  Okay?  We don’t go after her again.  She’s off limits.”  In essence, he’s giving it the old college try so to speak, in order to satisfy the demands of the Dragon, but he’s not just shooting her in the spine because he wants to leave a chance--no matter how small--that she’ll somehow survive and make it out.  Because he’s made a deal with the voices in his head that if she does, well, then she’s earned her life, earned her immunity from the Dragon’s violence.  The fire is a way to have her face the Dragon, but maybe, just maybe, come out alive.  

And that, laddies and gentlegams, is exactly what I think is happening with Will and Hannibal too.  The parallel set up between Francis and Reba with Will and Hannibal can allow us to reasonably infer that certain conclusions can be drawn about the latter, based on the former--particularly where their apparent murder/suicides are concerned.  Will, like Dolarhyde, also has a voice in his head telling him to kill the one he loves.  You can call that voice, I dunno...Justice, Morality, Society, God even, whatever.  The point is, he is being pulled in two different directions by the part of himself that loves Hannibal, and the part of himself that wants to, nay, demands that Hannibal die...and that he be the one to kill him.  And so, he does the exact same thing Dolarhhyde does: he makes a sacrifice, complete with all the spectacle and ritual that old school sacrifices to primal gods used to demand.  And like with Dolarhyde, I think it serves a similar purpose--it’s him making a bargain with that voice: this is it.  this is the last time.  If he makes it through this--bleeding and battered, if he can fall from this height into the freezing ocean and not die, if he can make it through that gauntlet, that trial of blood and ice--then that’s it.  I don’t owe you any more than that.  He’s earned his life.  And so have I.                      

Anyway, there’s a LOT of parallels with Dolarhyde to talk about on the show, this is just one, itty bitty layer, so I may make another post to try and cover some more stuff later if anyone’s interested.  I heard something about “Meta Monday”, and I dunno if that’s really I thing, but I’m gonna try and do something in that vein for every week I don’t write fic.  It still counts as writing right?  lol.  It might just be the mad ravings of a mild manic-depressive but hey.  Whatever.    

[sweetcerac]

SUMMER SCARIEST BOOK TAG

I saw this tag on Emmmabooks‘ channel and thought it looked so fun that I wanted to do it too!!

On to the questions!!

1. Specter: A book still haunts you after reading it.

Ryan’s Bed by Tijan

This book was just gorgeous and Wow! This girl is dealing with the suicide of her twin sister and her rollercoaster of emotions and decisions is just a twisty anxiety filled ride. But she’s found Ryan. And Ryan is the support she needs. He lets her do what she needs to do, whether she is fighting mean girls at school or do something stupid, but he’s there looking out for her and loving her the way she feels her own family isn’t. And the end of this book is just a punch in the gut that it’s stayed with me.

“I crawled into Ryan Jensen’s bed that first night by accident.

I barely knew him. I thought it was his sister’s bed—her room. It took seconds to realize my error, and I should've left...

I didn’t.

I didn’t jump out.

I didn’t get embarrassed.

I relaxed.

And that night, in that moment, it was the only thing I craved.

I asked to stay. He let me, and I slept.

The truth? I never wanted to leave his bed. If I could've stayed forever, I would have.

He became my sanctuary.

Because—four hours earlier—my twin sister killed herself.”

2. Don't split up: A book would you want to read around a campfire with friends.

Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark by Alvin Schwartz and Stephen Gammell This book just takes me back to my childhood Girl Scout camping! I brought these books every single time we went and read it around the campfire and in the tent. The illustrations are gross and spooky and awesome! And the stories are straight up scary for a girl in her tweens.

“This spooky addition to Alvin Schwartz's popular books on American folklore is filled with tales of eerie horror and dark revenge that will make you jump with fright.

There is a story here for everyone -- skeletons with torn and tangled flesh who roam the earth; a ghost who takes revenge on her murderer; and a haunted house where every night a bloody head falls down the chimney.

Stephen Gammell's splendidly creepy drawings perfectly capture the mood of more than two dozen scary stories -- and even scary songs -- all just right for reading alone or for telling aloud in the dark.”

3. Ghost: A book would you like to ghost.

The Harvest Festival by Jack Gallow

Man! Really did not like this book! It’s one of three books in my life that I can put on my totally dislike list. The concept seemed so fun, but it was so poorly written. The plot line was so inconsistent and there were a lot of loose ends that also made no sense to introduce. And I definitely feel like make a character just disappear without any explanation was such a cop out. Not a well thought out story at all. Ghosting this if any more in this series comes out.  

“When Mallory Watson’s family moves to Fallen Oaks, she quickly discovers dark and dangerous secrets lurking beneath the surface of the quiet town. Last year’s prom queen is missing. Sean Bolan, the only suspect in the disappearance, sets his sights on Mallory. She finds herself drawn to Sean and realizes that things aren’t always as they appear.

Welcome to Fallen Oaks. Discover this haunting tale of love and betrayal. A paranormal romance for any fan of the genre.”

4. Frankenstein: A book that mixes genres well.

On The Edge Of Gone by Corinne Duyvis

I really loved how this story wasn’t just a sci fi story and a world ending disaster story, but it had some really diverse characters. The main character is autistic, her sister is transgender, and her mom is a drug addict. And they are trying to get off planet in this ship that was designed to only hold the most “perfect” people. A lot of family drama is happening while the world is ending and I loved the blend of dealing with saving family while trying to survive. This book can really fall into a few different genres.

“January 29, 2035.

That’s the day the comet is scheduled to hit—the big one. Denise and her mother and sister, Iris, have been assigned to a temporary shelter near their hometown of Amsterdam to wait out the blast, but Iris is nowhere to be found, and at the rate Denise’s drug-addicted mother is going, they’ll never reach the shelter in time.

Then a last-minute encounter leads them to something better than a temporary shelter: a generation ship that’s scheduled to leave Earth behind and colonize new worlds after the comet hits. But each passenger must have a practical skill to contribute. Denise is autistic and fears that she’ll never be allowed to stay. Can she obtain a spot before the ship takes flight? What about her mother and sister?

When the future of the human race is at stake, whose lives matter most?”

5. Murder: A book with a twist you didn't see coming.

Wake The Hollow by Gaby Triana This book was so cool with it’s integration of the Sleepy Hollow legend with a contemporary story of a girl who grew up in the town of fame and having to go back to deal with her family demons when her mother dies. It had this supernatural essence to it that made you feel for the character. Was her mom crazy or was this supernatural entity what got her killed? And there are some crazy twists in this that really keep my hooked and I couldn’t put it down! “Tragedy has brought Micaela Burgos back to her hometown of Sleepy Hollow. It’s been six years since she chose to live with her father in Miami instead of her eccentric mother. And now her mother is dead.

This town will suck you in and not let go.

Sleepy Hollow may be famous for its fabled headless horseman, but the town is real. So are its prejudices and hatred, targeting Mica’s family as outsiders. But ghostly voices carry on the wind, whispering that her mother’s death was based on hate…not an accident at all. With the help of two very different guys—who pull at her heart in very different ways—Micaela must awaken the hidden secret of Sleepy Hollow…before she meets her mother’s fate.

Find the answers.

Unless, of course, the answers find you first.”

6. Zombie: A book or series you would like to revive from the BookTube graveyard.

A Fierce and Subtle Poison by Samantha Mabry

I remember this book got some major buzz when it first came out and I feel like we should be buzzing about it again!

A story about this guy, living on this Caribbean island, whose been hearing ghost stories all his life about this girl with green skin who lives in a large walled in house with a garden full of poisonous plants. And she grants wishes?!?!  What?!?! And it turns out to be somewhat true! But with all urban legends, while there is a grain of truth to them, there is also the disappointment of realty and he learns the truth about her while all this crazy crap is happening around them.

“Everyone knows the legends about the cursed girl--Isabel, the one the señoras whisper about. They say she has green skin and grass for hair, and she feeds on the poisonous plants that fill her family’s Caribbean island garden. Some say she can grant wishes; some say her touch can kill.

Seventeen-year-old Lucas lives on the mainland most of the year but spends summers with his hotel-developer father in Puerto Rico. He’s grown up hearing stories about the cursed girl, and he wants to believe in Isabel and her magic. When letters from Isabel begin mysteriously appearing in his room the same day his new girlfriend disappears, Lucas turns to Isabel for answers--and finds himself lured into her strange and enchanted world. But time is running out for the girl filled with poison, and the more entangled Lucas becomes with Isabel, the less certain he is of escaping with his own life.”

7. Witch: A horror book with a strong female protagonist.

The Cresswell Plot by Eliza Wass

To say this book is disturbing would be an understatement. Or maybe my life with my family has been so loving and wonderful that I can’t possibly imagine a life like this. But that is the life that Cas has and how she finds the strength to fight through it is beyond me and so admirable. Disturbing and scary reading what was happening to Cas and her siblings but awesome to watch her be the strong force her siblings need.

“Castella Cresswell and her five siblings—Hannan, Caspar, Mortimer, Delvive, and Jerusalem—know what it’s like to be different. For years, their world has been confined to their ramshackle family home deep in the woods of upstate New York. They abide by the strict rule of God, whose messages come directly from their father.

Slowly, Castley and her siblings start to test the boundaries of the laws that bind them. But, at school, they’re still the freaks they’ve always been to the outside world. Marked by their plain clothing. Unexplained bruising. Utter isolation from their classmates. That is, until Castley is forced to partner with the totally irritating, totally normal George Gray, who offers her a glimpse of a life filled with freedom and choice.

Castley’s world rapidly expands beyond the woods she knows so well and the beliefs she once thought were the only truths. There is a future waiting for her if she can escape her father’s grasp, but Castley refuses to leave her siblings behind. Just as she begins to form a plan, her father makes a chilling announcement: the Cresswells will soon return to their home in heaven. With time running out on all of their lives, Castley must expose the depth of her father’s lies. The forest has buried the truth in darkness for far too long. Castley might be their last hope for salvation.”

8. Mind Control: A spooky book you would recommend to everyone.

Fear The Drowning Deep by Sarah Glenn Marsh

The concept of this book is so cool!! Love the setting on the Isle of Man and the seaside scape. A body of a girl washes up on shore one day and the whole town is scared of what lays in the deep. And Birdie, the main character, is already scared of the water because her grandfather drowned out there and the stories of a monster. But then one day a gorgeous guy washes up on shore too and the fear and fantasy mixes in with a love story. Gorgeous! Lyrical! Atmospheric! And totally Magical!

“Witch’s apprentice Bridey Corkill has hated the ocean ever since she watched her granddad dive in and drown with a smile on his face. So when a dead girl rolls in with the tide in the summer of 1913, sixteen-year-old Bridey suspects that whatever compelled her granddad to leap into the sea has made its return to the Isle of Man.

Soon, villagers are vanishing in the night, but no one shares Bridey’s suspicions about the sea. No one but the island’s witch, who isn’t as frightening as she first appears, and the handsome dark-haired lad Bridey rescues from a grim and watery fate. The cause of the deep gashes in Fynn’s stomach and his lost memories are, like the recent disappearances, a mystery well-guarded by the sea. In exchange for saving his life, Fynn teaches Bridey to master her fear of the water — stealing her heart in the process.

Now, Bridey must work with the Isle’s eccentric witch and the boy she isn’t sure she can trust — because if she can’t uncover the truth about the ancient evil in the water, everyone she loves will walk into the sea, never to return.”

[jargedcoffee]

In Another World

Supernatural Fanfic (4.5k words. Save some time!)

Warnings: MCD, No Plot - Just thoughts and feels. Heavy Feels. Summary: Castiel realizes what could have been with Dean Winchester. If only. Notes: This is my first ever fanfic! :D I posted this before when it was 1k words, but I completely rewrote the idea. Let me know what you think please. Feedback would be amazing <3 I’ll post this on AO3 as soon as I get an invite. But for now, please please please let me know what you guys think!

When Castiel felt Dean reaching out to him, he started running as quickly as he could. It was an all too familiar sensation of longing, yearning, and...fear? Castiel could not comprehend the latter. Oftentimes, Dean’s calls were filled with anger, frustration, and perhaps even a tinge of sadness and pain. But fear? That rarely ever came with the package. Dean would usually hide his fear, and he would never communicate it so strongly, so viscerally like that.

Castiel knew it in his bones. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

He ran through the abandoned concrete building, trying to find out where Dean could be. They had chosen to separate earlier at a junction, and now Castiel was starting to regret it. He raced through the derelict furniture, passing cement pillar after pillar. It was dark and hard to find markers of where Dean had been under the dim moonlight shining through the boarded up windows. He stopped himself at an open area, with only concrete columns and furniture long since abandoned as far as he could tell. Then he saw it: blots of red tracing the floor around a corner.

Castiel ran and turned the corner with angel blade in hand, preparing himself for whatever monster he would have to face this time. Almost there, he thought.

And there it was, staring down at Castiel as if he had never seen anything like it before. In the eons that he has lived, Castiel had seen more than either man or angel should ever be asked to endure. He was a soldier, a warrior of the almighty father who breathed life into this world. After seeing all the evils of the world, of heaven, and of hell, nothing could stop him in his tracks. But this - this was different.

The smell of copper and iron permeated the room. It was strange, for this was not the first time he had smelled blood, but this time, it seemed as if every little molecule assaulted his senses, slowly tearing him up from the inside.

And there he was, the righteous man, the man whom Castiel had saved from the pits of hell so very long ago, sprawled on a slab of concrete slowly staining red. The blood emanated from a knife in his chest, pooling at his sides, to his plaid shirt, and onto the cement floor. Castiel found the scent of blood overwhelming. His vision whirled.

Somewhere out there, in another world.

In spite of this, Castiel snapped out of his stupor and rushed over to Dean, his knees buckling under the crushing weight of the scene before him. Every footstep he made resonated in his ears. Thump. Time was of the essence. Thump. He had to run. Thump. He had to get there faster. With all his might, he willed his ash-laden wings to bring him to Dean’s side, but he was quickly reminded that they served no purpose these days. Desperation began bubbling up inside. Why couldn’t he fly? Why couldn’t he run more quickly?

“Dean,” was all Castiel could muster as he fell to his knees at the man’s side. Through a window above them, a thin ray of moonlight shone above Dean’s half-closed eyes, illuminating the tiniest sliver of green. He seemed so peaceful like this, almost as if he simply decided to lay down and sleep for a little while. But this was no comfort to Castiel, who was starting to feel his neck shake uncontrollably just as his heart had begun tugging harshly at his chest. He had rarely ever felt this before - this agonizing, creeping dread that the unthinkable was about to happen. Or even worse yet, that it had already happened.

Castiel placed two quivering fingers on Dean’s forehead. He pressed down ever so gently, but with a firmness that belied the panic welling up inside.

Nothing.

It was all blank. His mind would not cooperate. Knowing that he did not have much time, Castiel’s heart began beating faster and faster, feeding into his fear - a cruel cycle of being afraid and not being able to use his powers. Why could he not do this? He was a soldier who has fought wars man would never even dream to see. No. He had never let fear overtake him before and he would not let this be the first time.

He tried again. In a second, Castiel’s body was suffused with grace, and his hand exuded a silvery blue sheen. Castiel assured himself that he would not fail - that he was not too late. At this very moment, his thoughts mattered little, but he needed every ounce of hope he could latch onto. If there was ever any moment that truly mattered, it was this.

In another world, those hands would be used to hold Dean’s.

He tried again. And again. And again. Each time he felt his grace reach a void - a dark, consuming emptiness that almost seemed to be gripping Castiel too. He felt it the first time, and the second time, and the third time. In the depths of his mind - in that faraway voice at the back of his head - he knew what it meant: he was too late. But he chose to forget that, because this was Dean.

Castiel was an angel. From time immemorial his sworn duty had been to bring about miracles. Would he fail Dean Winchester, the righteous man, once again? Would he fail to bring back this soul that shone so brightly it was almost blinding? Castiel longed to see that glimmer again. No. Failure was unacceptable. Indeed, soldiers fall in every battle. But this - this was different.

Because this was Dean.

This was Dean and Castiel was failing him. If only he had arrived earlier - if only he had run faster. If only he still had his wings. If only he had been more powerful. If only he could do something right for once. Castiel recalled all the times he had failed this man, but damn if he would do it again. Not this time.

There, beside Dean, Castiel sat down. He clasped his hands together. And he prayed.

In another world, his prayers would be answered.

He prayed for a miracle. This angel of the Lord who has listened to the prayers of men in need for thousands of years was now the one in need of a miracle. It was almost poetic in the cruelest sense of the word, but surely God will hear him out. God will listen to him for he was Castiel, and he had always held great favor with God. Even though he had never understood why, nor could he ever grasp what made himself so special, Castiel had to believe it. He needed God right here, right now.

“Bring him back.”

Seconds passed.

“I beg you. Bring him back.”

Minutes passed.

“Please. Please listen to me.”

He prayed with all his might. Truthfully, it didn’t even make sense because God could either hear him or he could not - or he refused to. To pray harder makes no difference, but Castiel had to try. He had to try, because this time, this time was different.

That’s when Castiel saw it. The ever so slight purpling at Dean’s neck. The first step in the human body’s degradation - right as the blood begins to pool in areas of the body without the heart’s beating to pump it. Castiel felt his heart beat faster again and his teeth began to hurt. He had never felt fear like this before, where it seemed as if tiny little electric currents were forming around his mouth, reminding him of his failure.

In another world, he would feel the same way, not out of fear, but out of love as he laid his eyes upon Dean’s smile.

Castiel was an angel. He was born to guard the Lord’s creations, to use his grace for bringing life just as Anna’s had given birth to the most majestic tree he had ever seen. He should have protected Dean and been able to bring him life once more. It was his duty and to fail again was absolutely unacceptable. Not again. Not this time. Not with Dean.

Especially not with Dean.

“Bring him back.”

He said it again and again. Bring him back. Bring him back. Bring him back. His words sputtered out one after the other, each time becoming more forceful. Why was God not listening? Bring him back. Bring him back. His hands clasped harder each time, reddening under the pressure. How could God forsake them again after so long? Bring him back. His nails gripped so tightly it dented the skin of his hands. Where was God? How could he have left them? How could he let this senseless loss of life happen? How could he let Dean leave? More than that, how could he let Dean leave them as a dying ember rather than in a blaze of glory? Why here? Why now? “Please. Bring him back.” Castiel’s voice shook as he said those words, his desperation ringing in his ears.

Nothing.

God had failed them again. And in the senselessness of it all, Castiel felt his eyes well up.

In another world, he wouldn’t have to bring him back. Dean was already there. Always.

The tears flowed, but he did not whimper. He did not make a sound. Dean would have wanted Castiel to stay strong. He would have wanted him to hold his head up high. He would have wanted him to keep fighting. To make the world a better place. To be there for Sam, for Jack, for Jody, for Claire, and all the others.

But all Castiel wanted was for Dean to come back.

Because there are so many things he never said, so many thoughts he never shared, and so many moments that were lost in time and never celebrated. Castiel’s mind became befuddled with thoughts - of confusion, of anger, of despair. How could this have happened? He did not understand. He refused to understand how Dean Winchester, the righteous man, the man who has survived every hand he was dealt, the man who seemed almost invincible at times, was right here in front of him.

Dead.

No. That could not be. Castiel will find a way. But there were too many things running through his mind, too many memories replaying in front of his eyes.

“Oh no, man,” Dean sighed. Castiel was confused about whether he had said anything wrong. Thankfully, Dean’s face was quite expressive. His eyes crinkled as he looked at Castiel, forming little lines at their sides. Castiel had never noticed that before. He thought it made Dean look...happier somehow, as if his eyes were smiling too.

“This whole industry runs on absent fathers. It’s the natural order,” Dean explained, shrugging as he did so. Castiel realized just how gruff this man’s voice was, almost with a grunt at each syllable. He looked behind Dean and saw the pink hallway lined with doors. Each one was slowly opening as women were coming out, hoping to see what all the screaming was about.

Yes, Castiel had gotten a lap dance from a prostitute named Chastity. Yes, perhaps he saw into her thoughts for a little bit. And maybe he even told this complete stranger that her father did not run off because of her, but because he hated his job at the post office.

But why would that cause her to start pushing and shouting at him while running down the hallway? Castiel was certainly perplexed at this behavior. Humans really did not make sense sometimes.

“We should go. Come on,” Dean said as the guards began approaching. He placed his hand on Castiel’s arm and gently dragged him towards the door under the exit sign.

Dean’s hand was warm, Castiel thought. It was almost comforting.

As they exited, they found themselves in the strip club’s back alley. The moon was shining brightly above the street lamps, lighting up the alley with a misty silver. Castiel was still slightly confused about everything that had just transpired. He looked to Dean for affirmation of his confusion, but instead he found him laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

Castiel was perplexed. Dean continued laughing as he bent down with his hands on his knees, trying to collect himself. Clearly, what just transpired fit into his definition of “fun”, but Castiel could not understand why.

After a few moments, Dean stood straight up and looked at him, still chuckling. Castiel had never heard Dean laugh like this before. Thus far, most of the moments they have shared were ones of danger, of frustration, or of ominous dread. Seeing him this free, this joyful, Castiel felt something well up inside of him. What was this feeling? He had certainly never felt it before. It seemed to be a combination of warmth, yearning, with a tinge of fear.

His heart beat faster.

Dean placed an arm around Castiel’s neck, and the latter could not help himself from smiling too.

As they walked down the back alley towards the Impala, Dean said, “Oh nothing”. He hooted for a moment, out of breath, then added, “It’s been a long time since I’ve laughed that hard.” Castiel smiled with him, his teeth bare. It was strange, but he could not control himself. This feeling welling up inside of him, what was it?

Dean approached the driver’s side of the car, and happily added, “It’s been more than a long time. Years.” Castiel noticed Dean’s smile slowly fade away after saying that. The moment was over.

As he sat now beside Dean, Castiel wished that he had heard that laughter more often. There was something about it that made him feel right at home, every time.

But looking in front of him, he knew. He knew he might never hear it again.

“I - I have money.”

Castiel placed his purchases and a bunch of crumpled dollar bills on the glass counter. The cashier was still looking at him like he was the devil, which was quite ironic, but Castiel could forgive him. He had been following Castiel around the store for the past 10 minutes, cleaning up after his messes: the refrigerator of beer he had left open, the egg he had cracked and spilled onto the floor, and the shelf of chips that he had toppled over.

The whole situation was quite embarrassing. However, this feeling could not overshadow the guilt that was weighing heavily on Castiel. He felt awkward going on this bunker supply run, but he had to because Dean was angry at him. Truly, it was his fault for not trusting Dean enough with the angel tablet, which led to Castiel taking it away and losing it himself. It was a big loss, and when Castiel apologized, Dean brushed it off.

To be more specific, Dean’s exact words were: “You can take your little apology and cram it up your ass.”

Castiel’s eye twitched as Dean said that. It felt different to be on the receiving end of Dean’s displeasure. It felt...horrible, as if he had never failed so miserably in his whole life. He had to do something - something to make it up to Dean.

Castiel looked up at the products hanging by the shelf behind the cashier. His grocery list ran through his head: Busty Asian Beauties, beef jerky, eggs, tissue, beer, and pie. Wait, where was the pie? This was the most critical part of this mission. Dean would sulk at Sam for forgetting to bring pies from supply runs. What more for Castiel?

He looked over to the steeled glass case to his right, on top of the counter. It said “Homemade Pies”, but there were none. No. This cannot be.

“Where’s...the pie?” Castiel furrowed his eyebrows, bracing himself to hear the unthinkable.

“Think we’re out,” said the cashier nonchalantly. Castiel felt his rage engulf him. He could not control himself. How dare they not have pie? This was a convenience store, was it not? Why did it suddenly feel so...inconvenient?

The gall. The utter blasphemy of it. Dean would not approve of this. Castiel had to find a way to get pie.

That was when Castiel grabbed hold of the cashier’s collar, forcefully pulling him towards the counter. He would not dare fail at this simple supply run.

“You don’t understand. I need pie.” Castiel emphasized each of the last three words. He needed to make this boy understand how important this pie was to him. The boy inhaled two quick breaths in succession, slowly registering what just happened. It was working, Castiel thought. He wished he did not have to resort to this, but Dean needed pie, and Castiel needed his forgiveness.

“Put the virgin down, Castiel.”

There was no mistaking it. That was Metatron’s voice right behind him. “We need to talk,” he added.

Castiel never got to bring his purchases back to Dean.

It was ridiculous, Castiel thought, but he realized now that he may never have another chance to bring Dean a pie, a magazine, or a beer ever again. What he would give for another chance to apologize to him. For his failure. For all his shortcomings. For everything.

“It’s a gift. You keep those.”

Dean’s words echoed through Castiel’s mind as he sat down at his desk, placing the black mixtape on the varnished mahogany table in front of him. After turning on the table lamp, he examined the tape thoroughly, tracing its outlines with his fingers. Written on the front in blotted, black ink were the words:

“DEAN’S TOP 13 ZEPP TRA XX.”

Castiel knew that Dean loved Led Zeppelin. Whenever the conversation turned to music, Dean would often bring up Led Zeppelin, and in car rides, it sometimes felt like he drifted exclusively between five of the band’s albums. Dad’s music, he called it.

Castiel got up from his chair and walked towards a cabinet in the corner. He had listened to a little bit of the tape before, but for the most part, he could not comprehend the lyrics. There were too many cultural references and metaphors that he was simply not familiar with, which made him think that he would not make good use of the tape.

That is why he attempted to return it to Dean, who immediately retorted with his “it’s a gift” line.

He might as well continue listening to it, he thought, as he opened the cabinet and found the portable cassette player on the bottom shelf. He had asked Sam for this when Dean first gave him the tape. Lucky for him, Sam was more than happy to show him how this contraption worked.

Castiel walked back and placed the cassette player on the desk as he sat down again. Opening the desk drawer on the right, he took out a pair of cheap, black earphones and plugged them into the cassette player. He then settled down on his chair, and pressed play.

A guitar started playing along to what seemed to be a rhythmic tapping sound. Castiel knew a little bit about instruments, but he wondered what that sound was. It almost felt like someone was tapping a finger on his left ear.

“Leaves are falling all around. It’s time, I was on my way”

Dean played this song quite often. Castiel knew what it was called: “Ramble On.”

“Thanks to you I’m much obliged, for such a pleasant stay”

The singer’s voice crooned each word beautifully, Castiel thought. There was almost a certain wispiness to it - a thin, delicate quality. It left Castiel wondering how Dean, a man who would often portray himself so strongly, so aggressively, identified with this song. Of course, they had known each other long enough for Castiel to know Dean had a soft side to him.

It was strange. Suddenly, listening to this tape felt like an invasion of privacy, as if Castiel were peeking into Dean’s inner thoughts without permission.

“For now I smell the rain, and with it pain, and it’s headed my way.”

The drums came in and the song began its chorus. Castiel tried his best to grapple the words. It definitely felt like an invasion of privacy, but Dean gave him this mixtape, and even after trying to return it, Dean asked him to keep it. That was permission enough, was it not?

“I’m goin’ round the world, I got to find my girl.”

At those words, Castiel found himself sinking into his chair, like a weight was suddenly placed on his chest. He thought of Dean. He thought of whether Dean was happy and whether he ever felt lonely.

He thought of whether Dean truly believed that he would never want a normal life. To leave the hunting life, to find a lover like the man in this song wanted to, to have a family. And suddenly Castiel found another emotion bubbling to the surface. Listening to this song, he found himself feeling empty, like something was missing, like he longed for something more than the endless grind of saving the world.

It was not an unfamiliar feeling though. He would feel it whenever he was out on a mission, far away from Dean, from Sam, from his family. He would feel it whenever he left the bunker to be elsewhere, perhaps in heaven, or wherever his travels would take him.

And he would feel it dissipate as soon as he felt Dean reaching out to him through their profound connection. That familiar sense of longing, yearning. Sometimes there was anger and frustration, but there was always longing. Always a sense of wanting Castiel back. And Castiel would be happy, knowing that when he came back, Dean would be waiting for him. It did not matter whether he got an earful for leaving again or for too long. What mattered was that Dean was there, and if Dean was there, all will be well.

Castiel then found himself hoping that Dean would never turn to a normal life. No. He stopped himself. That was a horrible thought. Of course, he should want what was best for Dean. He should want what would make Dean happy.

But if Dean ever left this life, if Dean ever found a woman, if Dean ever had a family, there would no longer be a place for Castiel. He might never feel Dean’s longing - his yearning - again. Perhaps they would see each other now and again, but it would never be the same.

“How years ago in days of old, when magic filled the air”

“‘Twas in the darkest depths of Mordor, I met a girl so fair.”

“But Gollum, and the evil one crept up and slipped away with her.”

Castiel found himself back in reality, away from his thoughts, as he realized that he did not understand that reference. He remembered watching a movie with Dean that had a place called Mordor, and he remembered a character named Gollum. He could not understand, however, why Gollum would slip away with the fair girl in the song, and neither could he remember who “the evil one” was supposed to be.

He would have to ask Dean, but now was not the time. They had to figure out how to find Kelly. More importantly, they had to figure out how to deal with Kelly and her child once they had found them.

Castiel realized now that he never got to ask Dean. He was never able to ask him what those lyrics meant, and now he that thought about it, there were so many things he never got to ask Dean. Did he ever feel lonely? Would he ever retire from hunting? Would he ever want a normal life?

Would he always have a place for Castiel?

Castiel would probably never have asked either way. But now, he felt the weight of all his questions crushing him like a pebble. There were so many questions, and now there was no more time. He willed Dean to come back. He promised himself that if Dean came back, he would spill out every single question he had. He would not wait for the right moment nor would he waste time. Never again.

God had still not answered.

Castiel brought himself closer to Dean. Beside this man whom he loved, and thought of nothing other than how meaningless it all was - wishing that he could hear that laugh one last time, wishing for Dean Winchester to rise up and hug him again, wishing for a few more moments to say goodbye. Because no matter how hard his life became, or how earth-shattering the next situation he found himself in was, Castiel always had Dean to come back to. Dean would be there at the end of the day, sipping beer in the bunker while making him watch another Western movie, laughing candidly as he explained the references to him, making him feel like he was…like he was home. Saving Dean was the greatest good Castiel had ever done for himself, because truly, it never happened that way. It was Dean who saved him.

Now, Dean was gone. Castiel brought a finger on each of Dean’s eyelids, slowly, ever so slowly closing them - hoping to make this moment last forever, hoping that Dean would somehow wake up before Castiel could close his eyes completely.

Castiel counted his breaths. One, two, three. Then, he breathed in the cool, still air around him, preparing himself to speak what would be his final words to Dean Winchester, the man who saved him.

“I wish I could go with you.”

If only he’d said the things he had always meant to say. If only he were an angel of more words. If only they had more time. If only.

Because somewhere out there, somewhere out in the vast expanses of space and time, there is another world. A world where Castiel said what needed to be said. A world where he could hold Dean’s hand. Where he could look upon Dean’s smile and feel both his and Dean’s heart beat so swiftly as they embraced. Where his prayers were always answered, because Dean was always there. Always. Where he would have all the time in the world to hear his laughter, to bring him pie, to ask him about Led Zeppelin. Where he could profess his boundless, endless love without fear and without restraint.

Somewhere out there, in another world, Castiel and Dean Winchester are lovers, bound not by blood but as kindred spirits. And Castiel would see that soul shine brightly everyday as he said the words:

“I love you.”

-------

Last Notes: I brought my headcanon of Castiel feeling Dean’s longing to life. I know this is not so canon-compliant, in the sense that angels can’t just go ahead and visit souls in heaven. I mean, that’d be too easy wouldn’t it?  Also, I’ve always found the idea of multiverses so emotional. And this just kept resonating in my head. So I wrote it up. I literally couldn’t sleep until I did. Again, please please please, let me know what you think! Positive, negative, neutral, whatever. Please keep it constructive though!

[conflictcrafter]

The Humanity of Lord of War

when you make an artwork, you have to figure out your role. being the maker of something is the surface role. and it is necessary. the next step is to pick a shovel and dig. or mine.

we do not determine roles for the heck of it. we do it because it is both the goal and the core. the goal, the core, and the means should align. and when things are in order, beauty emerges, organically, even when the surface looks chaotic.

I.

Andrew Niccol knew what his roles are in Lord of War. one of them is to explore an inquiry: what does it mean to be human?

this question has been explored in many punk films. Ridley Scott and Philip K Dick's Blade Runner films comes to mind. George Miller has also examined the question specially well in the recent Mad Max: Fury Road. these films put humanity in future punks, in a certain point in post-humanity, to hammer the question down.

Lord of War doesnt play with punks (we can call it presentpunk though). the historical events and the political conditions depicted in the film still ring bells. theoretically, the question is easier to grasp since it's set categorically in the present. this film, again, is not a punk where this question of humanity is often explored. but this is why literature or film is so beautiful: narrative elements, in this case the setting, bare different ways to answer the same query. also, familiar settings may bring out the most outlandish of answers.

What does it mean to be human 1: Beware of The Dog

Yuri (Nick Cage), after making his first gun trade, approaches his younger brother Vitaly (Jared Leto) who cooks in their Jewish family restaurant. while Yuri convinces Vi to be his gun trade partner, Yuri notices a poster in the kitchen that says: Beware of The Dog. "We dont have a dog (also why you put that in the kitchen?)," said Yuri. to which Vi responded:

"To remind myself to beware of the dog in me. The dog in me who wants to fuck everything that moves, fight and kill weaker dogs. I guess it's a . . . to remind me to be more human."

halfway through the film, Vi succumbs into cocaine addiction due to Yuri's involvement in his life. it was as though the film was telling us that Vi is indeed a dog. running and fucking around.

but when Vi finally met "a girlfriend," he changes and leaves the cocaine. Yuri comes back into his life and convinces him again to be his partner. in a deal in Sierra Leone, Vi, now sober, witnessed the bloody effects of illegal gun trade to African civilians. 

in an effort to sabotage the deal and potentially save innocent people, Vi is able to blow half of the arms and is consequently killed by the warlords.

Vi dies a martyr. loyal dogs die as martyrs. martyrs transcend humanity.

What does it mean to be human 2: I Won’t Fail as a Human Being

Yuri returns home to his wife Ava Fontaine (Bridget Moynahan) who now knows about her husband's illegal gunrunning business.

Ava is informed by idealistic Interpol agent Jack Valentine (Ethan Hawke) of her husband's illegal arms activities. he reminds Ava that her parents were gunned by people who got their guns illegally from arms dealers like Yuri.

later that evening, Yuri comes home to a naked wife, unable to wear her silk sleeping dress, unable to lie on their bed, because to her, "Everything’s got blood on it."

she confronted Yuri and he finally confessed to his wife his real occupation. she tells Yuri to stop it since they have enough. but Yuri said he couldnt just quit because it isnt about the money. it is what he is good at.

Ava tells her husband that she "is a failed actress, a failed artist. But she doesnt fail to be human."

while Yuri feels that being human means getting one's dreams, having a lucrative lifestyle, proving to other humans that one is the best; for Ava though, humanity is as simple as not inflicting harm to other human beings.

What does it mean to be human 3: The Reptile Tail

after being confronted by Ava and Vi, Yuri finally decides to go legit. suddenly, he is not an arms dealer anymore, and he got agents confused.

this is the part of the film that youd wish the main character has truly changed, with all the things and relationships he has at stake, youd want the main character to change. Niccol teases us that, that narrative relief. but if you know how plot works, you know Yuri hasnt reached that ultimate fall.

so after going legit, he is pulled back into the arms dealing business by the self-proclaimed president of Liberia, Andre Baptise.

you would want to feel that Yuri would be doing it forcibly in fear for his family's safety. but no. when the scene with him and the Andre cuts, we hear Yuri:

"At four and a half months old, a human fetus has a reptile's tail—a remnant of our evolution. Maybe that is why I could't escape. You can fight a lot of enemies and survive. But if you fight your biology, you will always lose."

Yuri's biological mumbling here is based on the evolutionary development studies of Ernst Haeckel (1834-1919) which theorizes that embryonic stages of development reflect the previous adult evolutionary forms of the specie (ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny).

Yuri is basically saying that since humans were previously non-humans, reflected by having actual tails while developing in the womb, humans will always go back in to behaving as animals. and that we can never fight it.

Yuri is wrong. for starters, Haeckel's hypothesis, the Recapitulation Theory, is long defunct.

while embryos have "tails," this does not represent the evolutionary process of a specie.

we don't have embryonic tails because thats how we evolved. we just had tails. that's just it.

thus, we are not echoes of a long evolution of reptiles. and what Yuri is telling himself is merely a rationalization defense mechanism to justify his illegal arms dealing.

and it's completely human to rationalize immoral behavior.

in insisting biology and in exercising rationalization, Yuri has perfectly demonstrated the frailty of human beings: giving intellectual justifications to humans' animalistic tendencies. Yuri has satisfied the id in booming his ego.

but being human isnt only about rationalizing.

being human also means thinking about the welfare of other human beings.

Yuri has become, if not the best, one of the bests in illegal arms dealing. in essence, he has become a superpower in the trade. but Yuri, in Nietzsche's eyes is far from being an Ubermensch.

in Kant's eyes, Yuri has trampled the categorical imperative.

in our eyes, Yuri is not a hero.

and this is what makes him human: his acceptance of life's dramatic irony. he knows, he sees, he "appreciates" the negative implications of what he does, and what's coming. yet he still does it. he is helplessly and happily trapped like all of us.

II.

although we follow closely the life of Yuri, in a "story" perspective, it's Vitaly that ultimately follows the heroic arc. Vitaly is the proxy hero to Yuri, Yuri doesnt undergo metamorphosis. but Vitaly does.

hence the film is a character study of how a human being can become a monster: by allowing and being part of something that is systematically bad and irreversible.

Niccol illustrates the monstrosity of Yuri not by making the character violent. he ingeniously does it by portraying Yuri as a kind and generous person who often describes and treats the people who are really close to him well. he, in his monologues, talks a great deal about them in good terms. yet he never talks about himself in such way. in fact, he never talks about himself at all.

and this where NIccol's genius comes: he makes Yuri seamlessly not talk about himself because in truth, Yuri hates himself. and a monster is a monster is he hates himself.

in the end, nothing is solved. what wins is the human basal instinct to harm others and at the same time, be detached from it. more than a narrative work, the film is a challenge:

how much humanity are we willing to let go to feel human?

III.

the film has managed to be an artwork that also talks about important world issues. and if there is something that an artist should takeaway from the viewing, it should be seeing how art and function can go together neatly.

the only failure of the film, albeit minor, is despite the great research that the creative production team has gone through to parallel real events, it fell short in interpreting Interpol's function properly. Interpol doesnt at all conduct arrests.

aside from that, Lord of War is a solid 9/10 for its take on the question of humanity.

_____ non-film image sources in order of appearance:  1. https://image.slidesharecdn.com/defensemechanism-160520104849/95/defense-mechanism-40-638.jpg?cb=1463741864

2. https://i.pinimg.com/originals/30/22/3b/30223b65bc57c735199209472b57c0b3.jpg 

3. https://i.pinimg.com/originals/c0/16/e2/c016e21b69049ab2c7a02caa1bd9e24d.jpg 

[bishreview]

Dunkirk (2017) Review

You can practically see it from here. . . Home

Dunkirk is the latest film by critically acclaimed director Christopher Nolan (his 10th feature length so far) and is about the infamous retreat by British troops out of France. Focusing on four separate stories during the retreat (all of which obviously link), it highlights the grim, hopeless feeling of war, as well as the strength and courage by the British during their lowest point of World War II. With strong performances by big names like Tom Hardy, Kenneth Bragnagh, Cillian Murphy and Mark Rylance, smaller names such as Aneurin Barnard, Jack Lowden, Barry Keoghan, and Bobby Lockwood, as well as brilliant acting from debutantes Fionn Whitehead (a terrific performance which should be seeing him more roles in the future) and Harry Styles (yes, the singer), and an incredible film score by Hans Zimmer, Dunkirk depicts the retreat brutally honest and quite emotionally haunting but ends up being, possibly, the best film of the year.

Before I go on about the performances, cinematography and score, I want to first mention how Nolan has truly made something different with this film. It almost abandons the three act structure of a film, with the entire film sitting right in the middle of the usual second act (i.e. the conflict) until the end, in which a usual third act comes in. It entirely abandons the first act, with only slight exposition within the first few minutes (not even an entire scene) before it chucks us straight into the action. It also deters away from any character history or character building. The characters we are given as our leads is an unknown, young soldier (Whitehead), an old, patriotic sailor (Rylance), and a machine gun fighter (Hardy). With the exclusion of Rylance, who we are only told has a son with him and has had a son die in the war, we don’t know anything about the other characters. We don’t know if they have family, partners, what their motives are other than to fight for Britain, they are unknown. Usually these two features are key to a film’s success, but here they aren’t really needed. It can be argued that without character depth we can’t connect with the characters, but they don’t need depth in the grand scheme of things. This film seems to want to show us a depiction of war in which each soldier and citizen is equal, with the film following characters who can easily be replaced by another soldier. Hardy is the only actor playing what can be perceived as a unique hero, playing Farrier, a pilot who does a lot to “save the day” per say (is there really “saving the day” in a film about a massive defeat?). Rylance’s Mr. Dawson (how many protagonists don’t even have a first name) and Whitehead’s Tommy are just two experiences we focus on, they are really no more special than the other civilians who drove boats over to save the day (Mr. Dawson) or soldiers trapped on the beach (Tommy). It’s a risky move, but it really works in giving us a very realistic experience and lets us focus on the what is happening more than the usual cartoon Hollywood heroes (looking at you Pearl Harbour). 

The film’s plot is quite simple. An estimated 400′000 Allied soldiers (as well as an unknown amount of French soldiers who are still fighting for France) need to evacuate France due to the overpowering strength by Nazi forces. As France is slowly being lost to the Axis, the Allied soldiers are trapped on Dunkirk beach, in which they every attempt to get over is being stopped due to Nazi air strikes over the English channel. The British army, not wanting to waste too many resources as they are next in line to be directly attacked after France falls, send civilian boats and a small group of pilots to help the soldiers leave the beach. The odds are so low that at one stage Branagh’s Commander Bolton even states that rescuing only 35′000 will be a positive, with England needing as much defence as possible. We follow four main plots, a young soldier trying to be rescued, an old sailor trying to his best to rescue as many as possible, a skilled pilot looking to shoot down the Nazi aircraft, and the Navy Commander in charge of getting the soldiers off the beach.

Dunkirk relies on performances to be able to give the audience the emotional connection needed, especially since character depth is the focus. Whitehead plays a scared, young soldier who wants to get off the beach (same as everyone else really) but is consistently a moral character, along with his acquaintance Gibson (Barnard), who meet when trying to get an injured soldier on to the next vessel leaving at the start of the film. They often, for different reasons, take the moral path, acting as the level headed side of the young soldier. Styles on the other hand plays Alex, a character who has a moment in which he is willing to sacrifice an innocent man who he believes is lesser to save the majority. With a very spiteful role, he is able to be highlight the fear in his character, as well as the shame of losing a battle and letting England down which shows during the third act. His character is similar to the Murphy’s unnamed soldier (I think he said Harold was his name but it was hard to hear and the internet isn’t helping), who acts in a very questionable manner but is understandable due to the fear he has for what he has been through in Dunkirk. Rylance is incredible as Mr. Dawson, an old man trying to do his best to protect his country, with Keoghan and Lockwood providing the audience with realistic young people who are incapable of imagining the horrors they are about to witness. Branagh is at his usual brilliance with Commandor Bolton, the man in charge of getting the soldiers off the beach. There is a moment towards the end where he runs through about three emotions in a short change of time, each one as realistic and enduring as the next. Finally, Hardy plays a role which you could imagine only he could take on, acting mainly through eye reactions as his face is behind a pilot helmet/mask and his dialogue quite small (up until the end where you just want to give the guy a hug).

The movie does have little dialogue, bringing most of its emotion through the actor’s physical emotions, as well as the cinematography and film score. The former is where the film succeeds the most. Nolan and cinematographer Hoyte Van Hoytema are both genius in their choices of shots, with the set design (by Nathan Crowley) being a perfect for the visceral scenes we witness. For example, the opening shot is so colourful and simple, five soldiers walking down a very bright street with pamphlets floating in the wind. The obvious juxtaposition of such a sweet shot is quickly broken with the discovery of the pamphlets being from the Nazis and saying that they have them surrounded, and the beauty quickly broken by gunfire and the soldiers fleeing to escape. This scene is brilliant, with Tommy making it behind French lines and basically walking straight on to the beach after that, highlighting how little space they have. From then on most of the shots are quite ugly, with a grey, dull colour grading making the beach look miserable and escape hopeless. For the rest of the movie we are delivered scene after scene in which the environment drives our emotion, whether its the threatening image of sand dunes outside of the Allied lines, or the burning of a ship due to a bombstrike at night time. 

The score is also excellent, with Zimmer once again showing his talent and making a statement that he continues to be one of the all time greats. He builds tension using highly dissonant string arrangements, building climatically and driving a sense of terror in the audience. There are moments where the score works with the cutting of shots, often given us three separate events at the same time, overloading us with tension and giving us a feeling of dread. The moments without any music are often even more tense, with the absence of sound allowing us to hear the diegetic sounds of the war going on around the protagonists.

Most of the film is very violent (although there isn’t much gore) and the moments of happiness and relief are short lived. There was a good hour of this film where it didn’t let up, only given us short moments of rest before something even worse happened. There are small victories, with a big one towards the end in which the civilian ships do return, but it doesn’t let itself become too positive or optimistic, making us feel that even though they are safe there could be more enemies just beyond their line of sight. The ending of the film is also, thankfully, not as happy and victorious as it could have been. It reminds us that the soldiers returning are still heroes and that it is a positive so many survived, especially due to the war to come, but it doesn’t forget that it was still a massive loss by the Allies and that the war isn’t over and Nazi Germany, at that point, were still winning. It is optimistic without losing the essence of realism.

I had high expectations for Dunkirk due to the director and actors featured, but it exceeded these expectations and is a hard movie to fault. It highlights the terror and hopelessness in war in a very raw and realistic sense without needing gore or horrific images of violence which many war movies utilise. It gives us a human experience without any character depth, allowing the audience to place ourselves inside the characters’ footsteps to see the horrors they are facing without the usual cliched love stories and sop-stories. Although it could be criticised by some due to the absences mentioned above, it doesn’t take away from the experience that Nolan is trying to have the audience endure. It’s a depressing, emotionally draining movie which tires the audience in the best way possible. We just want the violence to stop, but it is drawn out brilliantly, making every moment feel more hopeless than the last. It makes a strong case to be Nolan’s best film yet (and with a discography of Memento, The Prestige, The Dark Knight trilogy, Inception and Interstellar that is saying a lot) and maybe even the best war film ever (it definitely is up there with Saving Private Ryan and Full Metal Jacket). It’s a film which many might not enjoy as it isn’t fun. From a cinematic standpoint though, Dunkirk is an excellent film, with the performances, the cinematography, the direction, the production and the sound design all being nearly faultless, and it makes a strong case to be placed as the number one film of 2017.

Dunkirk gets an A+

[100-yardstare]

An analysis of the Samurai Jack ending, and thoughts. Obviously, contains spoilers.

If I had to summarize the ending in my own way, I would compare it to the ending of Mass Effect 3. It’s a story about war, survival, growing friendship and attachment, but ultimately ends with everyone dying, leaving viewers, quite frankly, blind-sided. Samurai Jack’s writing did what it needed to do, and Gennedy ultimately did accomplish the story he wanted to tell. But is the ending really what was BEST? Not only for the characters we’ve invested so much time in, but for us as viewers and fans?

Honestly, I could see this sad ending happening from a few episodes back. Writing wise, Gennedy does a very good job with foreshadowing, and in ways that could go right over your head if you aren’t paying attention. First we see the ultimate ending very subtly in the little cute sheep things a few episodes back. Their essence was tainted by Aku, and therefore ended up perishing by Jack’s doing. This parallel can also be found in the character Ashi, who will also become trapped in Aku’s essence and control. Fast forward a few episodes later, Jack is trying to leave Ashi behind, later coming into a confrontation with her that he doesn’t want her involved with this fight, as he doesn’t want her to just become a “memory” like everything else he’s loved and lost.

The show attempts to show us that nothing can be done without sacrifice. Ashi doesn’t just serve as Jack’s love interest, but the entire sole embodiment of this new world Aku has created. Everything, even the people, all the characters we grew up with watching the show, are a representation of what is born out of Aku and his evil reign. Like Ashi, the people in this society that resulted from Aku’s world is what Jack has grown to love and cherish. All the people he has helped and all the people he has touched, from the Scotsman, to Olivia and her dancing/music crew, all the way to the Canines, have grown a bond with Jack in some form or fashion. Years of being in this world made Jack part of the world. For 50+ years, that’s all he knew, and these civilians were the only family he had.

It was inevitable that Jack would eventually do what he set out to do: get back to the past, and stop Aku. But that also meant that everything he had grown to love would have to die.To kill Aku meant he had make a sacrifice, and that was this world. Victory came at a price, and ultimately, everyone, including Ashi, became a memory, like he so feared, but eventually, at the end, came to be at peace with.

So, if I had to condense my feelings on this, Gennedy told his story well. But, was it really the story meant to be told? I’m sure a lot of people out there turn to fiction for comfort. People are tired of seeing sad, helpless endings. I remember vividly when I finished Mass Effect 3, I bawled like a baby. I had invested so much time in these characters, to ultimately have to see them all die? Perhaps there could have been a better way to end this. Maybe all those people in Aku’s world could have existed in a different way in the “fixed” timeline, only happy and not under Aku’s slavery. That still would have been a happy ending. Because the show emphasized a lot about HOPE, so wouldn’t a new world without evil be that great ultimate ending? I could also go into how everyone “ceasing to exist” doesn’t make any sense, especially in terms of the “split timeline” theory, or even multiverse theory, realistically. What exists can’t just cease, but continue on in a different way. But that’s beside the point. When it comes down to it, I see how Samurai Jack made sense writing wise, telling the story that Gennedy wanted, all the while telling it with beautiful animation and visuals. But, I gotta say, it wasn’t the best ending for ME, and I’m sure it’s like that for a lot of people, too.