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quirklessidiot · 4 years

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Title: filthy rich [3/3] Pairing: millionaire!sakusa kiyoomi x y/n [filthy capitalist au] Genre: mystery, major angst ahead, thriller, mafia!au-ish

Synopsis: Just run, Y/N. Don’t look back.

Warnings: dark and yandere themes, toxic relationships, mentions of violence, shady business, class differences, mentions of rape, smoll breeding kink, unwanted pregnancy, mentions of abortion, and sakusa being a manipulative bastard

Notes:

Im disappering again for a week or two so as a parting gift, here ya go, im starting a bokuto fanfic soon and posting the reboot of notice me soon too hnnng thanks for the wait guys uwu

A sorta realistic take on a yandere is harder than it looks kssjdn omg anyways here yall go the long awaited last chapter of filthy rich. I’m not sure if I should put like a one shot sequel but so far im marking this series completed. Thanks for sticking by!

previous || series masterlist || blood son [sequel;one shot]

You run your hands through your hair and shut your eyes tight, the quietness and stillness of your shared apartment was something to bask on before you put on a fake mask of happiness. It had been exactly two months since you found out about the birth control switch and the medaide agenda.

In the span of those two months, you had grown more observant towards your boyfriend’s actions and you knew that it wouldn’t be anytime soon until he actually notices that you were onto him.

You let out a shaky breath as you recollected some weird things you’ve seem to have noticed, how his brows would furrow when he’d receive a call indicating that something was up and it was serious or how you visited your ex-boss one time a week or so ago along with Kenjiro since you wanted to see how he was doing.

“...Well, he just didn’t come home and sold the place. Apparently he was in a rush to move or something because of family matters so I didn’t exactly see him.” the neighbor gossiped to you two.

“Y/N?”

You jump on your spot as you hear that dreadfully familiar voice.

“Hey,” You greet, walking up to him, you decide to do your usual hug but stop when you notice a small red stain on his necktie, the tie is dark blue and although it wasn’t obvious from afar, it definitely was up close. Your brows are furrowed together, this time in pure curiosity, “Did you get hurt? It’s unlike you to get messy.”

You notice the quick shift of attitude in his eyes, you were seemingly getting good at observing his emotions these days and it looked like he panicked for a second there.

Odd.

“A friend of mine had gotten hurt a while ago, you remember Atsumu Miya?”

A vivid image of a blonde man crossed your mind, he was another conglomerate friend of your boyfriend, another person to be weary of to add to the list, “Oh, is he alright?” you asked, trying to keep it casual as you untie his tie for him as usual.

“Yes. He’s awfully clumsy. You don’t need to worry.”

“Oh…” You mumbled, “by the way, I visited my ex-chief.”

“Ex-chief?”

“Mhm.” you hummed, “You know, my boss from before? Me and a few co-workers decided to visit him since he was a really good boss. Turns out he just left without telling anyone, poor man.”

“Sounds unpleasant. Did you know why he quit?”

“No.” You shrugged as you take the tie out and place it on the side, “He suddenly just quit his job and moved, neighbors said it was also because of family matters. It’s kinda weird because as far as we knew, he didn’t have a family.”

“Would you like me to look into it?”

You almost stiffen when he slithers his arms on your waist but you didn’t want to give away any suspicion, “No. I don’t want to pry. Hopefully he’s enjoying his retirement.” You sighed, turning towards him with a tight smile, “Now what would you like for dinner? I was thinking Mediterranean? I need to lose some weight since I’ve been feeling bloated for a while.”

He leans in for a soft kiss on your temple, “Mediterranean would be fine. Would you like anything else? We could order more.” he hummed, his lips slowly started to dangerously hover on top of yours.

“No, it’s fine.” You give him a quick peck and wiggle your way out of his arms, your stomach doesn’t feel well these days. Whenever you were near Sakusa you had the urge to throw up your innards despite having an empty stomach.

You don’t notice the dangerous gaze on your behind as you pick up the phone for your take-out.

Sakusa hasn’t felt you in a long time and it’s driving him insane, he wants to feel your heat, your body, and everything in between. He wants to fill you up and see you pregnant with his children. He wants everyone in the world to know you were his and his only.

Yet he can’t do that.

You’ve ignored his affections these past few weeks and it had been driving him insane to the point where he had to ask one of his men to put an eye on you to see if you had been cheating on him or seeing someone else.

Yet you hadn’t.

Your routine was the same old one and Sakusa is digging his nails deeply into his skin in his office one day with his tie uncharacteristically untied. Miya Atsumu sits across him, taking a sip from his flask, “Ya look like shit.” the blonde points out.

“Fuck off, Miya.”

“Heard from your cousin that you’re not getting laid by your girl these days.”

“You better be thankful that you’ve got men behind you or I’d be shooting your fucking brains out for saying that.” Sakusa spats, his dark gaze pointedly looking at the blonde across him.

“You should just find someone else then and not yer prude of a-”

“Keep telling me ideas like that and maybe I might just shoot you and chop your body up until it looks fuckin’ unrecognizable.”

Atsumu raises his hands up, signaling that he was giving up, “Gee, omi-omi. I was just giving my advise. It’s so easy to drop her.”

“I don’t want to drop what’s mine.”

“You’ve got issues.” He chuckles, “Haven’t you been switching out her pills and fucking her raw for the last couple of months? I bet yer ass you got her pregnant on that before but ya just don’t know it. Getting her pregnant would definitely secure her spot in her life. Woman’s nuthin’ without ya.”

“She’s...she’s not showing…”

“When was the last time ya two went at it?”

“Two months ago.”

“Ya poor boy.” Atsumu sighs, shaking his head, “Ya sure you don’t want to take a break from being a loyal boyfriend for one night? i bet Y/N wouldn’t notice.”

“And no one would notice if you fucking disappeared. I’ll make sure of it, now get out.”

You may not have been the sharpest tool on the shed but you know that someone’s been tailing you these past few days, you’re not stupid. You could only come to the conclusion that it was Sakusa who was doing such things but you couldn’t get why.

Something just didn’t make sense. It felt like you were missing an important piece in the puzzle, med-aide and the switch of your pills and now a hidden tail?

You furrow your brows together in deep thought as you sat down next to a teenage boy on his phone, you decided to take the bus today to the grocery store, surprisingly the one tailing you wasn’t around today.

Your eyes slowly shift towards the boy’s phone, it seemed like he was playing a video game.

An otome game, to be exact.

You felt your lips twitch up, you remembered those games a lot growing up. The graphics seem to have massively improved now by the looks of it, “...That looks interesting.” You tell the teenage boy who turns to you in surprise.

“Oh, thanks.” the blonde replied quietly.

“Is that a new otome game?”

“Kind of.” He blinks, his gaze returning back to the screen, “It’s sort of a remake of the yandere simulator from back then.”

You feel your shoulders tense up.

“A yandere?”

“Yeah.” The blonde nods, “The girl’s awfully creepy in the game, she stalks him, does things to get him. The player has to catch her in the act and evade her at the same time.”

“Oh…” You blink, “I-uh, this is weird… but what’s a yandere again?’

“It’s someone obsessively in love with you. They’ll do anything to have you stay by them.” He says, pushing on a button but suddenly the screen turns red and you feel shivers run down your spine as you hear him curse and the words ‘you’re caught’ appear on the screen.

“W-what happened to your character?”

“He died. Nothing much.” he mumbles, “If the Yandere knows they can’t have you, they’ll kill you.”

You immediately went pale as soon as you heard that. Maybe, just maybe you were being paranoid. He wouldn’t go to that extent, would he?

“How did your character escape the yandere in the game?”

“Well, I haven’t finished the game yet but based on some anime’s and manga’s I've usually read. They either killed to get away or they moved so far away where they wouldn’t be seen so I think the creator might have the same ending.” The blonde said, he slowly looked to your side, “You’re looking awfully pale, ma’am. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, j-just remembered a horrible game I played back when I was your age.” You gulped in, “Nightmares, you know? The yandere tried to get my character pregnant and tried to get in her way of moving out of the country.”

“Sounds like a very realistic one.” He mumbles, “What did your character do?”

“I wasn’t able to finish it.” you whispered, loud enough for him to only hear, “I couldn’t really find a way out.”

“The developers of the game must’ve made it hard for you. Maybe your character should’ve ran away,” he advised, “Or better yet, you should’ve killed him.”

“I-well, I don't think there were options like that.”

“Well if I were you and there was no option for killing, I’d run. Far, far away. Change my identity and all that.” he exits the game and stuffs the phone back in his pocket, you get a good look of his cat-like eyes and immediately feel a shiver on your spine with the next words he say, “I mean its a game but you wouldn’t wanna loose and get your character killed, right?”

“R-right.”

The teenage boy hops down without even saying goodbye and you have a scary realization that you can’t break it off like you originally had planned. You needed to run, run far as you can and get lost.

The words that the teenage boy says echoes in your head for the next few days, from that point on, realization dawns upon you that, nothing is certain now. You couldn’t trust anyone, you couldn’t let friends and family be involved in this. Sakusa Kiyoomi is a powerful man so you needed to be careful with how you were going to disappear.

You continue to act nonchalant and the same as you try to lay out your plan but you knew that you had only a week or so to complete this for it to successfully work.

Sakusa Kiyoomi wonders what he should do to save the relationship, he’s tried everything in the book that he could think of but you remained the same. Was this the end of the relationship? For real?

He could never stomach the idea of having you leave him.

It’s eerie that day, something felt different when he came home to an empty apartment. It looked the same yet something felt very, very different. Apparently the apartment guards said you were here since your car hadn’t left the driveway and they hadn’t seen you go out.

He checks out your side of the closet, your clothes remain there untouched and your toiletries were there too. He scans the fridge for your notes but nothing is stuck there. He suddenly feels like something cold was dumped on him.

It couldn’t be, right?

Right?

He runs to every room, checking every nook and cranny and when he finally reaches the last room which was the bathroom, nothing is there.

Everything was in its place except you.

Where were you?

Your bank account remains untouched, your wallet and phone was left in the apartment. It was as if you were returning home, the very least. Komori tells him to calm down, saying that they’re letting the best people find you around the city, they don’t rule out that someone might’ve had the audacity to touch you.

Whoever took you would be given hell to pay, that’s for sure. Was it the triad? Kkangpae’s? Or opposing yakuza’s? Oh, they’ll definitely have their heads on the platter if they tried to harm a single hair on your head.

Sakusa doesn’t even hesitate to notify the police about you already despite the memorandum that twenty-four hours is needed to consider a person missing, it's nothing a little money can fix.

“I hope we find her soon.” Your aunt sighed, “I’ve notified her parents about it. It’s definitely weird that she’d leave all her valuables behind.”

Hinata and Natsu sit there next to their mom, completely sad and worried, “I’ve hired the best people for it already, obaasan. We’ll find Y/N.” Sakusa replies yet his thoughts are in a complete frenzy now.

And find you they did.

No stone was left unturned. He made sure of it. Yet after a month of relentless searching. Nothing came up, it seemed like you had just vanished and Sakusa Kiyoomi had turned the whole underground world upside down for you but nothing came up.

Some say that you disappeared and ran away but that was immediately ruled out, no security cameras saw you in and out during that day and it would be impossible for you to just leave without security cameras on you. The guard had exclaimed that despite the blackout that day, the generators only took a few minutes to power up so they’d definitely catch you on camera in case you ever exited the building (along with the guards since they knew exactly what you looked liked) plus the clothes and such were still there, left untouched.

Some said you died, it was definitely impossible for you to just vanish without a single trace after all since everyone was looking for you.

Yet no one dared to say it in front of the boss, not if they valued their life.

The billionaire had dried out his connections to find you. What good was it to be the most powerful and richest man in the country if he couldn’t find you? Life had no meaning now, you were gone. It felt like a part of him was ceasing to function.

Sakusa Kiyoomi was a dead man walking now.

Unknown to the whole world, you’re in a small town with little to no signal. Your hair is chopped unevenly and your skin is darker from the repeated exposure under the sun, your life is simple and mundane now yet you’re happy.

For the first time in months, you actually felt free.

You shut your eyes tight, the events that transpired this past few months replayed in your head. Your escape was definitely done as carefully as you can and you didn’t even know if you’d succeed since you weren’t a master in that sort of thing.

You recalled that it was a week before you ran away, a few days after you met that kid in the bus. Someone from the electric company had come to inform you that there was a scheduled black out in the city that day during the afternoon and you felt something bubble up in you. That was the day you’d put your plan into motion.

You knew that the longer you delayed your plan, the harder it would be to escape.

You had a few minutes to actually put your plan to work. The camera’s on the hallways would cease to function for a few minutes according to the guard downstairs as he did a protocol on the building (apparently the generators were quick). So that morning after Sakusa left, you placed only a few clothes and the stash of money you had been carefully hiding in a garbage bag and chopped your hair short in an uneven manner. Burning all the remaining hair on the fireplace and the black hair color that you use with it. The maid uniform that you stole on your floor and a fake name plate that you made was on and you were good to go.

The minute the black out started, you took the garbage bag and walked out. Taking the stairway used by the caretakers, you made sure to just look down and never directly up at the camera’s pretending to work.

When you finally made it out of your building. You let out a stiff sigh and put down the bag, it was only the beginning. If you thought the same way as Sakusa Kiyoomi, you could only imagine that you needed to be more careful from this point on.

You take the newly bought duffel bag that you strategically hid behind some boxes. Thankfully when you had placed it yesterday afternoon, it hadn’t been touched.

You put on a pair of shorts and a baggy shirt with cheap shades and stuffed the maid uniform in the duffel bag along with your belongings in the garbage bag. You take the other route that led to the busy streets. It was easy to look like a tourist and seemingly blend in the crowd, from that point on, you only had one destination in mind.

When you were younger, you vividly remember an acquaintance telling you about this small town outside of Tokyo where her grandparents were from. It was only an hour away via plane and when you went down another few hours via bus yet if you took the bus route all in all, it would take a few days.

Since it was far, only a few busses actually went there and since you had to leave within the day, you decided to just take the bus nearest to that town and take another bus when you arrived there.

The plan smooth-sailed from that point on.

Except for one minor detail.

You open your eyes and look down at your now small bump. The monster who almost had you trapped left a parting gift, you grip your garden hoe tightly.

A big part of you wanted to kill it.

Yet every time you try to, you hesitate.

The moment you arrived here, you had to pretend to be a weary and poor widow. You just didn’t expect to be a weary and poor expecting widow. You let out an uncharted sigh at the thought, it was hard enough to be alone here with little to no money.

This child had the demon’s blood in it.

Yes, you may have gone free from his cage but in truth with his seed growing in your stomach day by day, you started to feel quite the opposite.

taglist [thanks for your support ilyasm skkss im so sorry for updating late too :(]

@maraudusk ;; @iamnotobsessed ;; @ssuna ;; @weebartistinc ;; @aomineavenue ;; @tsukkismamagucci ;; @onlyshinji ;; @ichiraku-verse ;; @watevermelon ;; @victoriasee ;; @caramelcandescence ;; @n-nara ;; @bloody-bella ;; @ricefarmerkita ;; @paripedia ;; @srhlsx ;; @craftyfawns ;; @kepchups ;; @soggycardboardd ;; @vinnieluv ;; @dinablossom ;; @yourstruly-01 ;; @shinhiromi ;; @dinablossom ;; @kneecotinee ;; @vicassa ;; @ahoeforshouto ;; @benimarus-main-mop ;; @atsunakaashi ;; @myaaa-xoxoxox ;; @newfriendjen ;; @usedcoupon

@kn0xiousnight

[can’t tag you guys uwu just make sure ur tags are open :<]

#sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi imagines #sakusa kiyoomi headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #yandere!sakusa #idk its my take on yandere and toxic relationships #haikyuu scenarios #📝📝.Filthy rich series #hostclub.adulting

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hermannsthumb · 3 years

Note

Could you do #40 cancelled holiday party? Thank you!

40. i just found out that a friend of a friend of a friend isn’t hosting their annual holiday party this year, so now how am i going to have my annual run in with you?

from winter writing prompts here

happy xmas eve, if you celebrate it!

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

Newt doesn’t really have many friends, and certainly not enough to warrant a flood of party invitations come December, but for the past few years he’s been able to rely pretty consistently on at least one. Back when the band was still together, his drummer had a pretty cool girlfriend who would sometimes let them tag along as the entertainment for parties around town, and her brother (who was almost as cool as her) ended up liking the way they sounded so much he invited them back to his own parties a couple times. Then he dated Newt’s guitarist, and then he broke up with Newt’s guitarist, and then he dated Newt, and then he broke up with Newt, and it sort of fell apart from there (and so did the band), but the breakup was actually pretty amicable, and he’s never failed to extend the invitation to Newt for his annual holiday bash as a courtesy. And Newt’s never failed to make an appearance. What’s there not to like, you know? It’s free booze, free food, and the chance to not feel like a total loser loner for once. Plus…well. Another reason.

But this year isn’t looking too good for Newt.

“Sick?” Newt says. “What do you mean he’s sick?”

“I mean,” Newt’s ex-drummer says, irritably, “he’s sick. Caught the flu or something. I don’t know, Jackie just wanted me to call and tell you, she didn’t give me any details.”

“Couldn’t he have called me himself?” Newt says.

“No,” Newt’s ex-drummer says, “I told you, he has the flu, he’s totally out of it, man. Party’s off this year. Hey, did you get our Christmas card?”

“What? Oh. Yeah,” Newt sighs. He tacked it up on his fridge: the two women with their arms around each other, one pink-haired, one blue-haired, holding up their cat in the middle like it was their son or something. Clever. Quirky. Newt just makes a generic Tweet mid-December wishing everyone a happy holiday season and calls it a success—less effort. “Yeah, it was cute. It’s definitely cancelled? He can’t just, I don’t know, take some Advil or something and—”

“Newt,” she says.

“Yeah, okay, fine,” Newt says. “Tell Jackie to tell him to—get well soon? Soon enough for New Year’s, maybe? Because it would be great if—”

She hangs up on him. Newt probably deserved it.

He stalks Jackie’s brother’s Facebook for a bit after the phone call to make sure he’s not just lying about the flu to get out of inviting Newt to the holiday bash he’s definitely having. It becomes clear pretty quick it’s pretty legit—he’s made exactly one post in the last few days, and it’s a selfie of him looking absolutely horrid in his bed, advising everyone to not be like him and get their flu shots. Not lying, then. Damn it. There’s not even going to be anything for Newt to crash.

“Damn it,” Newt groans, and slams his laptop shut.

In all honesty, Newt’s not pissed about missing the party itself. He’s pissed about missing the party guests. How else is he going to have his annual spat at the snack table with his mortal enemy, Dr. Bitchy, British, Badly-Dressed Gottlieb?

Mortal enemy is too strong. Rival, maybe? Though certainly not a friendly one. He’s fond of Dr. Gottlieb, really, in some insane, backwards kinda way, like he’s a specimen Newt would love nothing more than to cram under a microscope and study up close. What makes him tick? What makes him scowl like that, yell at Newt—more or less a stranger—like that, attend the same party year after year like that only to stand in the darkest corner like a vampire and avoid every single other person? The first time they met was at the party three years ago, when Dr. Gottlieb loudly accused Newt of deliberately snagging the last cucumber finger sandwich because he somehow knew Dr. Gottlieb was eyeing it up, too, and only did it to annoy him, and it’s only gone downhill from there. Or maybe uphill. He fascinates Newt.

He’s also insanely attractive to Newt. Bitchy, British, Badly-Dressed, but, my God, what a set of cheekbones, what a set of eyes, what a big ‘ole mouth that Newt can only assume would be awesome for kissing. And only a few inches of height on Newt, too; he wouldn’t even need to stretch up that far to test out his hypothesis.

Since Newt has Facebook open, he does another search for Dr. Gottlieb—Dr. Hermann Gottlieb, technically, though he’s furious whenever Newt tries to call him anything other than his full title. If Newt was normal, he’d just shoot the guy a friend request or something. A simple message. He just stalks his page instead, which makes him feel the sting of the cancelled party even more keenly: Dr. Gottlieb doesn’t post, like, any pictures of himself, but the ones he’s been tagged in by his company and someone who appears to be his brother make it very clear very fast that he kinda just got even hotter over the year. He’s started wearing his oversized glasses on a librarian chain, and his haircut—which had always been a severe sort of undercut—has grown out up top to be adorably poofy. Tragic.

He shoots his ex-drummer a text later. Can you ask Jackie to ask about that Gottlieb guy that’s there every year? Like, what’s his deal?

The reply comes later, while Newt is reheating some leftover Chinese takeout for dinner. they’re friends w gottlieb’s younger bro. mostly invite him to be nice.

“Figures,” Newt mutters.

Well, if there won’t be a party at which to have their annual run-in, Newt is simply going to have to orchestrate a run-in himself. The first step is finding out where Gottlieb works.

Newt picks a miserable day to set his plan into action. A snowstorm swept through the city a few days prior, and before the sidewalks were even finished dethawing, a sleet storm followed and turned them into eighty-percent sheets of ice. And then more snow comes. Newt slips and slides all the way to the cafe across from Gottlieb’s humble little robotics research facility, cursing himself for not having invested in proper winter boots yet. Docs are practical and cool, but they could be warmer, and Newt’s are so old the treads are basically nonexistent. He orders himself the most expensive coffee on the menu as a reward for his troubles and claims a chair near the large shop window in front, underneath a hanging fern. He would simply wait and watch for Gottlieb to walk out. The man had to walk out eventually. Lunch break, or coffee break, or even just clocking out for the day. He had to.

“Would you like to see our sandwich menu, sir?” a waitress asks Newt. “We have a new—"

“Nah, no thanks,” Newt says. He doesn’t tear his eyes away from the window. “You don’t have to call me sir, by the way. It makes me feel old. Does a Dr. Gottlieb ever come here?”

The waitress snorts involuntarily; she flushes a second later. “Sorry,” she says. “It’s just that—yes, Dr. Gottlieb comes in a lot, and he’s kind of…”

“Awful?” Newt grins.

“Particular,” the waitress says. “He has us remake his coffee if it’s not perfect enough for him. And we have to write out the whole thing, Dr. Gottlieb, on his cup, every time. He tips really well, though, so we don’t really mind.”

“Has he come in today yet?” Newt says.

She opens her mouth as if to answer the question, but then furrows her eyebrows. “Why do you want to know, anyway? Are you guys friends?”

“Not really,” Newt says. Deciding it’s not worth the effort to explain the complex homoeroticism of his dynamic with Gottlieb, and to random waitress who probably doesn’t give a shit at that, he amends “I mean, yes. Good friends. I’ll see that sandwich menu, actually.”

Newt has a nice breakfast of avocado and egg on a bagel, and pretends to do work on his laptop for a few hours, but—to his disappointment—Dr. Gottlieb doesn’t come in for a coffee. Newt doesn’t catch sight of any familiar dark-haired, scowling men walking in or out of the institute, either. Gottlieb must have off today. Maybe it’s for the best, anyway; Newt’s not totally sure what he would’ve done if he ran into the guy on the street, or how he would have even explained why he’s there to Gottlieb if he did. He was just sort of operating under the assumption he’d figure it out in the heat of the moment. He calls it quits around three in the afternoon, not wanting to walk home in the dark after sunset. “Happy holidays,” he tells the baristas gloomily, and steps out into the snow with one last cardboard cup of coffee.

He mulls it all over in his head as he avoids ice patches and passersby on the way home. Should he ask for Dr. Gottlieb’s number? Is it weird to ask your ex, or even his sister, for the number of a guy you’re sorta-interested in? Newt supposes it’s weird to invite your ex to a holiday party in the first place, but he really wasn’t lying about it being amicable. Maybe he wouldn’t care. He could always just send that fucking Facebook friend request. Or he could just wait until next year. It’s just a year.

He’s so distracted that he doesn’t notice the patch of ice directly in front of his apartment until he’s already stepping on it, and his stomach flips in a way that lets Newt knows he’s just fucked up; his worn-out boot loses traction, his arms pinwheel, his coffee goes flying, and he lands—

In someone’s arms?

Well, even that’s not totally right. He lands mostly in someone’s arms, but he hears a little oof, an exclamation of surprise, and then they both topple over and into a snowbank. The coffee lands somewhere next to Newt’s head. “Bugger,” a familiar voice groans.

Newt sits up. Dr. Gottlieb is laying on his back next to him, wrapped in a green parka and about three scarves. To Newt’s relief, he doesn’t look angry. More embarrassed than anything else. “Apologies,” he says. “You were heavier than I’d anticipated. Or perhaps I was not as strong as I anticipated.”

“I appreciate it anyway, dude,” Newt says.

He gets to his feet, locates Gottlieb’s cane from where it’s somehow landed on the other side of the sidewalk, then tugs Gottlieb to his feet as well. Gottlieb makes a face as he rights himself. “You ought to watch yourself, and be more careful,” he says. “You could break your neck next time.”

“Worried about me?” Newt says. He dusts some snow off Gottlieb’s shoulders. “What are you doing outside my apartment, dude?”

“Er,” Gottlieb says.

He goes a strange shade of pink, and clears his throat. “I fancied…a walk. In the snow. Fresh air. And I just happened to be—er—” He clears his throat again. “I happened to discover you lived here, and my walk happened to take me by. I wasn’t looking for you, if that’s what you’re implying. Or waiting for you. I have better things to do with myself.”

“Really?” Newt says. “’Cause I was looking for you.”

“Oh,” Gottlieb says.

He really is cute right now, with his red-tipped ears, his dumb coat, his dumb scarves, the snow sticking to his back and his poofy hair. Sticking to his long eyelashes. It’s the first time Newt’s ever seen the guy not, like, at least mildly annoyed at him; it’s doing something funny to his heart. “Hey, you wanna come in for a coffee or something?” he says. “Mine kinda spilled, and I could go for another.”

“I couldn’t possibly,” Gottlieb says.

Newt grins. “Come on, I know you want to. It’s cold as shit out and you’ve clearly been out here for a while. We can order a pizza or something, too.”

“Well,” Gottlieb says, and he ducks his head as he finally smiles back. It’s worth the wait, because my God, is it cute, all broad and crooked. Newt has the feeling not too many people get to witness it. “Perhaps for a bit. I was hoping to discuss your latest article with you, you know, and was very put out when I learned I wouldn’t be seeing you at the party this year.”

“Oh?” Newt says. He holds out his hand, and Gottlieb startles visibly a moment before taking it. Newt can feel how cold Gottlieb is even through his thick red mitten—he could use a little warming up. Newt can light a fire in the fireplace he rarely uses…maybe break out some wine…it’ll be nice and romantic… “Did you like it?”

“Not in the slightest,” Gottlieb says cheerily.

“Just what I was hoping,” Newt says. “After you, Doctor.”

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

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zentherainbowunicorn · 3 years

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hey, bet you've got a whole bunch of asks just floating in out of your inbox like this already, buuut do you think you'll ever finish everlasting party? or even just do writing for the fandom again? your writing pieces were all so captivating and so beautifully characterized and JUST INCREDIBLE. even if you decide not to get back into writing it mind maybe giving some hints on how you planned for the story to go BECAUSE IM LITERALLY DYING TO KNOW. binge read the whole thing in one night and can't get over it!

You know, you’ve given me a great excuse to finally write a post about this anon, ‘cause I have a surprising amount to say on the topic ^^ But first, thank you so much for your kind words! I do look back fondly at the things I wrote for the Mystic Messenger fandom and I’m really glad you’ve enjoyed reading them as well.

So, here’s a Q&A-style answer to things I get asked about Everlasting Party and what I’m doing in the MysMe fandom nowadays (after the cut):

Why did you stop writing Everlasting Party?

At the time I believe I’d gotten rather overwhelmed with school work and decided to put off writing the next chapter until I felt like I had things better under control. Weeks turned into months, and because I hadn’t played Mystic Messenger in a while I started to doubt my ability to even finish the story I’d intended to tell. It became easier to just leave it “until I felt like coming back”.

But don’t worry too much about me - I’m doing pretty great nowadays, and I’ve even done a bunch of writing again in the last couple years (just not for MysMe, sadly).

Are you still in the MysMe fandom?

Yes, I am! I don’t post on here so much, but if you’ve been following my Mysterious Messenger posts at all (see the pinned post on this blog) you’ll know that I’ve been working on a Mystic Messenger-style engine since 2018. I tended to work on it in bursts throughout 2018 and early 2019 but for most of 2020 and all of 2021 I’ve been making daily updates to it adding new features, fixing bugs, and maintaining the code. It’s even got a novel-length wiki to go with it lol. I’m also collaborating with a group of people working on a free fangame that will use the engine.

Are you going to come back to Everlasting Party?

All right so this is actually a couple of questions in one. First, do I want to come back to EP? The answer is yes. It haunts me that I’ve left it unfinished and I sometimes get messages or comments about it and I want very dearly to have it finished so I don’t have this loose thread dangling about ^^;;

Will I come back to finish EP? I don’t have a concrete answer for this one because I hate making promises I can’t keep, but I’ll give you some information on my process for this:

I keep telling myself if I remake all the chatrooms for EP with my program (mentioned above), I have to finish writing EP.

I feel like I need to replay the games to re-familiarize myself with canon to properly write the characters again, but don’t really have the same drive to go through all the chats

It’s been a while and my writing style has actually evolved quite a bit (but for the better, I hope!). If I finish EP, there are earlier chapters I’d like to expand upon and potentially modify to flow better. I do worry though that earlier readers might not like the way I change it, but also, I have no idea how many of those people would come back to read the ending, really, anyway.

The good news, though:

I actually wrote 25k on EP during Camp NaNo in July 2020

This is EP’s current word count in my drafts (unedited):

EP is also no longer constrained by my ability (and patience) to make chatrooms at all anymore since I can generate them in mere minutes with my program rather than painstakingly editing them frame-by-frame in Photoshop

I would really like the satisfaction of finishing this story :P

So in summary anon: I am cautiously optimistic about the fate of Everlasting Party. And I actually adore messages like this that let me know people have enjoyed it and would be willing to come back if it was completed! ♥ The odds of me finishing it do, in fact, increase with each person who tells me this, ‘cause part of my worry is that it would be pointless anyway since it’s been several years and what if it doesn’t live up to what people imagined it would be...

Basically, even though I’ve written several additional unposted chapters of EP, I really want to have the whole story complete before uploading again so I don’t get anyone’s hopes up. That said, it’s also pointless to sit on another 25k+ of words if I don’t finish it, so... well, how’s this: if I don’t finish EP by 2022, then I’ll upload what I have written and write a note on my plans so people like you can have some closure.

Thank you again for this message! And if anyone reading this has read Everlasting Party and is also interested in the ending, I’d love if you’d send a message or comment my way with your thoughts ♥

#Anonymous #rainbow unicorn replies #everlasting party #mystic messenger #rainbow unicorn stuff

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bluerosewritings · 4 years

Text

Tarts and Kisses | Riddle x Fem!Reader

[Originally posted on “The Heart Mirror” on Wattpad]

Riddle stared at his phone, biting his lip. The red head wasn't usually one for late nights - if things were going his way, he would have finished going over his notes half an hour ago and would now be sleeping. Unfortunately, things were not going his way.

Because of rule 373 of the Queen of Hearts - 'if one is unable to be near the person of their affection, they must partake in a form of communication at the 9th hour of the 5th night' - the two of you always called each other at nine o'clock every Friday. The two of you had also decided to alternate who called who each week, this week being your turn to call.

Yet you hadn't called.

At first, Riddle had brushed it off as you being distracted. Sure, he was a little annoyed that you hadn't properly adhered to the rules, but whenever you hadn't in the past you usually had a proper reason.

So when Riddle watched the clock hit ten, he began to worry. Surely you wouldn't have taken this long to call? As menial as the calls were, you'd told him often how you "loved just hearing his voice". Maybe you fell asleep? But wouldn't you have told him how tired you were?

Unable to take it any longer, Riddle left his room. As he passed by the dorm lounge, he caught a glimpse of Trey out the corner of his eye.

"You're back late, Trey," Riddle said, slowing down his pace, "are you finished with the food for tomorrow's Unbirthday Party?"

"Hmm? Oh, Riddle. Thought you'd be asleep by now." Trey replied.

"Unfortunately, no. I'm on my way to check on (y/n)," Riddle frowned, "she missed our Friday call, and I... need to make sure that she has a proper reason."

Trey smiled, knowing how soft Riddle could be when it came to enforcing rules on you. Then realisation dawned on him.

"Ah, Riddle, she won't be in her dorm," Trey explained, "I asked her to help me with the last of the Unbirthday Party food, but we had an accident... nothing major. But it probably distracted her."

"I see... thank you, Trey. Make sure nothing happens while I'm gone."

"W-Wait, Riddle...!"

—

You pushed the tart to the back of the fridge. After closing the door, you looked over at the other treats lined up on the cafeteria kitchen's windowsill. Trey had said that they would be better there instead of the fridge.

Next, you walked over to the oven and peered at the tray of cookies. Rows of hearts, spades, clovers, diamonds and roses were hardening nicely from what you could tell. Since you'd left them until last, Trey had said to just let them cool and he'd ice them in the morning. That just left...

You turned around and grimaced. The giant pile of flour and the wrapping they exploded from taunted you. Where did they keep the broom again...?

Before you could begin your search, a pair of arms wrapped themselves around your body. You turned around to see who it was only to have a pair of lips crash against yours mid-turn.

At first you panicked, then your eyes noticed a familiar heart-shaped cowlick. Relieved, you relax into the kiss, wrapping your own arms around your boyfriend. When you sadly pull apart, Riddle presses a kiss on your cheek. You smile and nuzzle your face into his neck, allowing him to press a third kiss on the top of your head.

"You worried me." Riddle mumbled, stroking the back of your head.

"Worried?" You frowned. "Why?"

Riddle sighed. "(y/n), it's nearly 11."

"Wait, what?" You pulled away from the hug and went over to your bag. Once you fished your phone out, you cringed at the time on the display. "Oh, Riddle, I'm so sorry..."

"As you had a genuine reason, I'll let you off the hook this time," Riddle said kissing your other cheek, "however, next time it'll be off with your head. Understand?"

You giggled. "Yes, my Queen."

Before you could lean in for another, the oven timer went off. Remembering the cookies, you cursed and grabbed the oven mitts.

Riddle watches as you start unloading the cookies onto a cooling tray, his eyes brightening with amusement as you start moving the rose-shaped ones.

"Did you do these one?" He asks.

"That obvious?" You chuckle, feeling your cheeks light up slightly.

Riddle shakes his head, smiling. "We don't usually have rose-shaped cookies for the Unbirthday Party, so I figured you must have thought of it instead of Trey. They're cute."

"T-Thanks." You stammer.

You push the rack backwards towards the rest of the treats. Riddle takes the oven mitts off you and puts them away as you make room for all of them.

"Is everything meant to be on the side?" Riddle asks when he's back by your side.

You nod. "Trey said only the tarts had to go in the fridge. Everything else was better off on the side to cool - I was just making sure the cookies were easy to reach, since they need to be iced in the morning..."

Riddle hums in response. "If you want, I could help you move everything to Heartslabyul. That way-"

"No!" Riddle looks at you, confused. "I-I mean, I don't wanna risk dropping anything! Since, y'know, w-we won't have any time to remake it..."

"Are you sure?"

You nodded quickly.

"Very well..." He said, not full believing you but deciding not to push it. Maybe you were just tired.

You sighed in relief. Riddle already seeing the rose cookies was already a bit of a let down, but as long as he didn't see what was in the fridge, it wasn't all for nothing.

Your eyes caught sight of the flour pile again. "Oh, shoot, I forgot about that... Riddle, do you know where they keep the cleaning broom?"

Riddle followed your line of vision and saw the pile. It was almost up to his ankles, with parts of their bags sticking out. This must of been the accident Trey was talking about - flour bags all exploding on the ground.

He took a look at your face and decided it was best not to ask. Now that he got a good look at you, there were bags under your eyes. You really were tired.

"Allow me." Taking out his magic pen, Riddle chanted a short spell.

The flour and paper bags lifted off the floor. With another flick of his wrist, two of the bins opened and the levitating items sorted themselves into them.

You let out a sigh of relief and kissed your boyfriend's cheek. "Thanks. I really didn't want to deal with that..."

Riddle chuckled, catching your hand in his. "I could tell. Was there anything else? Or can I walk you back to your dorm now?"

"You may." You say with a smile.

You threaded your fingers between his as the two of you set off. While you tried to listen to what you boyfriend was telling you, a mix of tiredness and thoughts of tomorrow were making it near impossible. Even as you kissed Riddle goodnight and waved him off, all you could think about was his future smile at your present.

—

The horns sounded off. "Our great leader! The Crimson Ruler! Announcing Dorm Head Riddle!"

"Dorm Head Riddle! Hip hip hooray!"

He really did look like royalty, you thought, watching Riddle walk down to the head table, crown balanced on his head and cape fluttering behind him. As according to the laws of the Queen of Hearts, Trey as vice dorm leader was to his left and you as his girlfriend were to his right. Not wanting to risk any chance of him seeing your gift, you shifted your legs slightly to block the bag as best as you could, Riddle luckily being too preoccupied with checking the decorations to notice your fidgeting.

"You all have your teacups?" Cater nudged you and you quickly grabbed your teacup's handle. "Today is nobody's birthday, so to this Unbirthday Party! Cheers!"

"Cheers!" Rang out across the field.

You took a sip - earl grey for this month - and looked over at Riddle. His gaze was directed towards the selection of tarts Trey had made; berries and cream, raspberry almond crumb, brown butter apple. You saw the flicker of confusion in his eyes. Figuring now was the perfect time, you placed down your cup.

You pulled the bag onto your lap. "Riddle?"

Riddle turned to you. "Yes?"

Surprise lit up his face when you emptied the bag. Carefully, you held out a strawberry tart towards him. The tart was slightly smaller than the others, with the strawberry slices carefully arranged into the shape of a heart.

"Sorry if I seemed a little off yesterday," you said as he takes the tart off you, "I just didn't want you to find out. You're always so kind to me, helping me out even when we weren't dating... I wanted to do something for you in return."

A soft smile grew on Riddle's face. You swear you could feel your heart jump out of your chest when you two made eye contact, the adoration in his eyes making you melt. The kiss he pressed against your cheek didn't help.

"Thank you." Riddle seemed to whisper in your ear.

Riddle pulled away and placed the tart on a plate. Carefully, he took out a knife and cut out a slice, placing it on his plate.

"Shouldn't Ace do that for you?" You asked, remembering the Queen of Hearts rule 41.

"I'd rather do it myself." Riddle replied, prompting a small blush grew on your cheeks.

While Riddle tried to keep his adult composure, inside he was like a gleeful child. Cutting away part of the tart, Riddle couldn't stop his heart rate growing at the thought of you making this especially for him. It tasted different from Trey's - a little heavier, but somehow sweeter. So sweet. It was addicting.

He glanced over at you. You were watching him nervously, smiling when he caught your eye. Spearing another part of the tart, he brought it to your lips.

"Say 'aah'." Riddle wasn't usually one for public affection, but he felt it was only right to share the tart with you. The red glow on your face was nice too.

The tart hadn't tasted exactly how you thought it would, but watching Riddle immediately return to finish off the slice before cutting off another. As he offered you another taste, you wondered if Trey would let you help with baking again.

#riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts x you #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader

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only-by-the-stars · 3 years

Text

the annotated Tome of the Wild

I don’t know how many people are interested in this sort of thing, but let’s go for it anyway! There are a lot, and I mean a LOT, of series references and cameos in this story, as well as tons of foreshadowing of various plot points, that may or not have gotten noticed, so I’ve been thinking about making a series of posts talking about it all for anyone curious. So here is part one, covering Chapter One: The Old Grist Mill.

(spoilers for the whole thing, obviously!)

- First up is the attire Link and Aryll are wearing. In the show, the protagonist, Wirt, is wearing a Halloween costume, though this isn’t immediately apparent that that’s the case. For Link’s costume, the choice was obvious: his Wind Waker clothing that you can get via amiibo in Breath of the Wild. Aryll, of course, is wearing the alternate pirate dress that you see her in when doing a second playthrough of WW.

- Then there’s the lengthy list of possible names Aryll tosses out for her frog. This is something that Greg, Wirt’s little brother, does at the beginning of the show, so I thought it’d be a fun way to sneak in a bunch of names that I wasn’t going to use otherwise.

Rauru: The Sage of Light in Ocarina of Time

Zauz: The blacksmith who forges the Phantom Sword in Phantom Hourglass

Snowpeak: For the Snowpeak Ruins, one of the best dungeons in Twilight Princess (and the series IMO)

Lorule: The “Dark World” of A Link Between Worlds

Vaati: The villain of Minish Cap (UNDERRATED GEM)

Swamp: Self-explanatory, there are multiple swamps in the series, like Misery Mire in Link to the Past and Goponga Swamp in Link’s Awakening

Lynel: The infamous, terrifying enemies we all know so well I hunt them for fun sometimes

Poe: Ghostly enemies that recur through the series (perhaps most memorably in TP)

Zonai: The mysterious long-lost race that built some very cool structures in BOTW

Ancient Columns: An area in BOTW where you find a memory and the Tena Ko’Sah shrine

Stealthfin: For the Stealthfin Trout in BOTW

Orca: The old swordsman on Outset Island

Ankle, Knuckle, David Jr.: Tingle’s brothers from WW

Guru-Guru: The Terminan version of the guy in the Windmill who teaches you the Song of Storms

Astor: The villain of Age of Calamity

Molduga: The sand-dwelling bosses in BOTW

Ook: A very hilarious and memorable mini-boss from TP

Tingle: The infamous Tingle, who of course Aryll thinks would be the worst name for her frog. Greg is cut off from saying what he thinks is the worst name, but I had to let Aryll speak for this little gag.

Phew, that was long. Moving on!

- “Rule one of the researcher's code is to never give up! That's what my teacher says, anyway.” Yes. Robbie is Aryll’s teacher, that is a line he says during the cutscene just before the “Relentless as a Waterfall” battle in Age of Calamity. As you might expect, Aryll finds him very amusing.

- Aryll stuck a piece of candy on a tiny black turtle that dripped an oily substance onto the forest floor as it crawled along. Dekuwood oil sighting! This is the very same turtle that gets swallowed by the dog that accosts them later, and the oil is what caused its transformation, just as it did in the show.

- “Why are we in the woods? How did we even get here? I don't... the last thing I remember is...” He screwed up his face in concentration. “Gah, why can't I remember? We were—” So Link goes into water and wakes up in a place he doesn’t know, with no memory of how he got there? Sound familiar?

- A shudder went through him and he resolved to ignore it, even as the sounds of ghostly laughter seemed to reach his ears from far off. And did the mists seem to be growing thicker? A reference to the Lost Woods from BOTW. Quite appropriate, given they’re lost in the forest.

- The mysterious woodsman is, of course, Rhoam. Who was also the first person that Link met in BOTW on the Great Plateau. He has a lantern there too, and carries around an ax, and is separated from his daughter. Just. Too easy.

- I’ll talk about this more in later posts, but, Midna in Beatrice’s role was one of the first and easiest choices I made when casting this thing. Also, notice how she takes off as soon as Rhoam shows up? This is a thing that happens in the series with the Woodsman and Beatrice, who have no prior connection, but Midna definitely knows this guy, and that reveal was held back for later via keeping that bit from the show.

- Also, in the show, the wood is called edelwood; here I chose dekuwood not just because of deku trees and whatnot in the series, but. well. Also to invoke the memory of the Deku Butler’s son in Majora’s Mask who became a victim of the Skull Kid and thus Link’s first mask.

- Link saying “Hey, listen” to Aryll is a callback to Navi’s infamous phrase from OOT.

- “Not in any way that would be beneficial to you.” Link will remember this later when the Beast is trying to get him and Midna to choose whose soul will be in the lantern.

- She leaned up on her toes and retrieved what looked like a compass. Compasses are, of course, a dungeon item in most of the games.

- The owl statue Aryll plays with, and subsequently breaks the beak of, is a reference to the owl statues in Link’s Awakening. Their eyes do indeed glow when you talk to them in the Switch remake, and in the dungeons you have to retrieve their broken-off beaks to converse with them.

- In the show, you don’t find about Wirt’s crush until much later, but I wanted to establish the plotline of Link’s love for Mipha and what he’s been doing about it right here at the beginning. His avoidance of her and what Aryll tells him about how its caused her so much pain is the beginning of his descent into despair near the end of the story. Not to mention that I hinted at the tape’s existence with Aryll’s reference to him making “that thing” for her.

- Aryll decides to call her frog “Blupee” after the glowing, rabbit-like spirit creatures in BOTW.

- “Sheikah smoke! Poof!” A reference, of course, to how the Sheikah can appear or disappear in a puff of smoke.

- “He is the death of hope, a cunning calamity... he steals life, steals children... he, he...” A calamity, eh? Now where have we heard that phrase before? And Rhoam is, of course, alluding to his belief that the Beast is responsible for the disappearance of his daughter, Zelda.

- “Leave me now, young man... take your sister and go east.” In the show, the Woodsman tells Wirt to go north. But here, it’s east, because their next destination is Ikana, which is located in the eastern portion of Termina in MM.

- A half-moon the color of yellowed pages had risen in the sky by now, and by its light Link guided Aryll onto a path that he was reasonably sure led east. This bit of description is not just there to be pretty. I established a specific phase of the moon here so that I could go back and use the exact same description in later chapters, when more time had passed and it wouldn’t make any sense for there to actually be the same moon phase going on. This is a hint to the fact that everything in the Wild, takes place during the same night in Link’s world. This is something that you see visually in the show, but must be described in a fic.

and that’s it for chapter one! stay tuned for chapter two!

#annotations

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cateringisalie · 3 years

Text

9 years later and we have at last got a new Eva film and the end of the Rebuild project.

Much was made at the start of Rebuild of the desire to introduce Eva to a new audience. 1.0 more or less leant into its original goal and restaged episodes 1 to 6 of the TV series with a bigger budget, CGI, some more blunt and early reveals and a few weird alterations for the existing fan base. The Angel numbering was off; everyone knows Lilith is stuck in the basement, Seele just default to their monoliths. Kaworu is actively introduced at the tail-end rather than alluded to in the opening titles. As an intro, its fine (though most would agree the equivalent stage of the TV series isn’t really a struggle to cope with either), though a few stylistic and environmental changes lead many to conclude this was a direct sequel to End of Evangelion. 2.0 seemed content to build off of the intro but steer away from the relevant section of episodes – roughly 8 to 17. Recognisable moments like the falling Angel, the corrupted Unit 03 and the ribbon angel and Unit 01’s impossible reactivation share the screen with altered relationship dynamics. Now we get Mari one of the few wholly new characters who gets to open the second film in a wildly dramatic fashion. The key of Nebuchadnezzar (which does at least re-enter proceedings in the final film, but I am even shakier on what it is or used for – even fandom seem to have struggle to explain this as anything other than a blunt drop-in replacement for the Adam embryo in the TV series). And come the end its time for Third Impact already, Shinji altering the world around him to rescue Rei from the depths of an Angel. Kaworu uses an unfamiliar spear to incapacitate Shinji and the preview hints at a story further from the rails than ever. 3.0 is as promised more or less completely divorced from anything Eva had done before. Just not the off-the rails version 2.0 advertised. Some will be quick to note that none of the Rebuild previews have entirely accurately advertised their subsequent instalment; 1.0’s features at least one key scene that never happened (Mistao slapping Ristuko in a seeming allusion to the Sea of Dirac Angel) while even the sequences of animation that did make it look nothing alike. Which is fair, but even then 2.0’s bears absolutely no resemblance to 3.0 and even 3.0’s very strange preview doesn’t really jibe with 3.0+1.0 ultimately. 3.0 is post-post-apocalypse and with a whole 14 years just evaporated between films. There’s a distinct last third of Nadia feel to it. About the only part similar to a former incarnation is Kaworu and Shinji’s relationship which while not even roughly mapping to episode 24 serves the same function; to make Shinji distraught before the climax of this story. But 3.0 is also the point where that initial premise of the series slams headlong into the drift from familiar territory. Where the film is a quantum leap away from the mystery terms and slow reveals. The oddities and confusions pile up given the glimpsed state of the world, the strange gridded moon, the sea of Eva corpses, the strange state of Lilith in the depths of Nerv. An awful lot happened while Shinji was (for reasons no one has explained or seems to care about except me) IN SPACE and the film only ever alludes to the sequence of events occurring between these two films in the broadest of strokes. Which if done a certain way can be compelling though I did not find it to be the case here in the slightest. It’s a huge struggle to build up even a vague idea of what went down and that’s with heavy deferral back to the TV series again. If you’re new, none of this means much of anything. Even mixed media doesn’t help. The reveal there was a limited run manga of events prior to 3.0 had a potential for answers, but upon reading a synopsis... Nope. Helps not even a tiny amount. Also this mixed media attitude is never to be encouraged. So, I didn’t like film 3 much at all. Film 4 does little to not be based on where it left off. Which is a small mercy that it doesn’t effectively toss everything out again and skip further ahead in time. And 3.0+1.0 does at least make use of some of what 2.0 revealed and setup in the spirit of trying to get this into something cohesive. It fails, but it tried. Maybe the points it touches on were the intended direction of the films. Maybe Anno changed his mind on this one. It’s not like Rebuild’s failure to cohere should be a surprise – the title of the film is simply confusing in sequence. Titled neither 4.0 nor 4.44, instead we have the pretty inexplicable 3.0+1.0 which is just annoying to type. Even thematically this doesn’t feel right given its more like 2.0 mushed into 3.0 but I suppose that’s technically film 5 so... Unless, 1.0 here is supposed to mean the original TV series or EoE, which... End of Evangelion figures unexpectedly largely in the film. Could be that its meant to infer some collection of the Eva cast (the original pilots + Mari? The Ikari family + Mari? The pilots from 1.0 (Shinji and Rei) plus the pilots from 3.0 (Asuka and Mari)?). The other part of course, is that the three prior films had titles in the form of [Thing](Not)]Thing]. 3.0+1.0 decides to dispense with this entirely and instead is titled “Thrice Upon a Time”. Nothing like confusing matters (and instead media library ordering) by not only giving the film a title that puts it before the 3rd film (since prior to this cinema releases are .0 and the home media (excepting the first release of 1.0) are triple digits of their instalment number) but also has another reference to three within it. It might be some kind of holy trinity allusion, some play on Third Impact, or an acknowledgement that this is theoretically the third version of events surrounding the end of the world (if you take TV series as 1, EoE as 2, and Rebuild as 3). Also potentially a literary reference about cyclical time and messages from the future which is all well and good and fits into a whole other essay about how Rebuild and FFVII Remake are operating on the same basis and making many of the same mistakes by both trying to be fan-service for the new fans and draw in new ones and do the big fan-moments similarly but diverge wildly off in others. Good start! The final film starts with bombast as per 2 and 3 (and thus focused on Mari) though the setup and point of the action is possibly more confused and less explicable (which is saying something given 3.0 opened with retrieving Unit 01 from space. No, I will continue to complain about not getting this. Yes it was very exciting but why was Unit 01 in space? In a strange crucifix coffin. Anyone at all?) – and only vaguely connected to anything resembling the plot. At least 2.0 and 3.0 had some immediate and long term stakes with a cover for Kaji stealing something and bringing Shinji into the plot. This film opens with a scrounge for spare parts in a red Paris that the tertiary cast make no longer red while Mari fights off a massed horde of Evas while battleships are puppeteered from orbit. It’s all terrible cool and everything, but given at no point do we even begin to understand what is going on or what the stakes even are. Which is a problem with the latter half of the sequence. 2.0 might have started with an Eva vs Angel fight but while there was ambiguity over the situation it at least seemed to lead into the eventual plot. Here we’re getting Eva spare parts for later and a whole dose of new terminology the film has no interest in explaining. Which is par for the course for prior Eva incarnations but again, I feel there was more explanation setting the weirdness up. Here we are reduced to keywords that sound important. The film proper opens with our familiar trio of Eva pilots winding up at a village with their old classmates (which of course, to follow the proliferations of 3 all the way down and also match to Tokyo-3, is in fact, Village 3. The far future sequel to Resident Evil 8 presumably). Who are necessarily now 14 years older than them. Asuka is naked (in a sequence to contrast to 1.0 and 2.0) or in her underwear for far too much of this sequence (and just as creepy as 2.0 got with this) as Shinji struggles in the aftermath of Kaworu’s death, Ayanami (critically not the Rei of 2.0) learns about life (and visits a library with – I’m not kidding – a poster for Sugar Sugar Rune on display. I like to think not many in the audience caught this slightly odd reference). 30 minutes of the film are taken up with Rei being happy and contented with her life while Shinji slowly recovers and re-enters polite society (sulks, throws up at the sight of the DSS collar, is insulted and force-fed). There’s a good case for this section just being an unnecessary time filler, though you don’t need to fill time in a film that is 2 ½ hours. But if it was cut down, perhaps it would have the same strange feeling as 1.0 had where the aftermath of Shinji’s second Angel fight lead was mostly skipped and left that part of 1.0 feeling strangely hasty and actively (and badly) abridged. Maybe that’s just my familiarity with the source material again. There’s still an edge of weirdness in the air on the film hits the 45 minute mark; even prior to this gigantic sections of the land are missing, and some things just float around now (apparently because). Past this mark is where weirdness creeps in; the barriers keeping the village from suffering the fate of Paris – the structures a curious match to the Cocytus facility at the start of 2.0. There are headless Eva copies who roam the landscape. An indicator on Ayanami’s suit runs down. Shinji is advised to talk to his father before he loses the opportunity forever. This one made me laugh, and even Asuka comments that given who Shinji’s father is and what he’s done don’t really make this plausible (or sensible). Ayanami concludes her pastoral life and this stage of the film by transforming back to her original white plug-suit; her AT Field then dissipates and she bursts in a familiar spill of LCL. For such a previously central character, Rei or Ayanami or Lilith will have exceptionally little bearing on the remainder of the film. The plot now kicks in properly as Gendo decides enough is enough and he’s going to be doing some world ending. Our Eva pilots are ready but not the same; we have Asuka, Mari and Shinji. And standing orders for Shinji to be shot if he tries to pilot anything (but given we’re at the end of the world and basically the original plan fails to stop Nerv bringing about the end of the world, that people still try to shoot him is... a little weird and an almost pointless resolution of factors the quaternary cast brought up in 3.0). The entire rest of the film is even more impenetrable and confusing than Kaworu’s sweeping explanations of what happened between films 2 and 3. If 3.0 fumbled the ball on being newcomer friendly 3.0+1.0 actively doesn’t care. Not that familiarity with series helps since so much new terminology is thrown at the audience. The entire cast – literally the entire cast – are not only caught up on but also understand the varying levels of psychological, biological and religious nonsense that Eva has formerly wielded as something almost coherent. You, as audience member, are not privy to a fraction of this understanding and thus left to flail for the remainder of the film making what you can of the maddening breadcrumb trail of exclamations and partial explanations. Shinji is no help here and infuriatingly asks barely a single question about what is going on (thankfully he does prompt Gendo to explain a few things – presumably where even the staff had gotten lost on what was supposedly going on). For existing fans, you might get a sense of it by application of known quantities from the previous incarnations (I pity newcomers struggling to make sense of this). What the Lance of Cassius is a thing introduced abruptly into the series – and contrasted with the Lance of Longinus you can muddle through to get some idea of what was going on. 3.0+1.0 however, decides that even that grip on its story is too much and adds a bunch more unnamed spears. Some of them formed from Lilith. This is a thing of some import apparently, though ultimately is effectively buzzword name-checking. We know who Lilith is in context from both 1.0 and the TV series but how that relates to spear formation is beyond me. And then there’s the part where one of the flying ships (there were four made according to Seele’s plan. Seele, the former sinister puppet-masters, who died in film 3, and if the flying ships were their idea or this stated at all, I had totally forgotten it in the last 9 years (checking wikia seems to indicate no one else knew this either so I feel vindicated). Seele feel an artefact of the old Eva Anno has no time for – EoE had what equated to three groups vying for control of the process of human instrumentality. Seele are adhering to a prophecy of sorts, Gendo is trying to subvert that process for his own ends, and Misato is trying to stop it. In terms of economical story-telling, the distinction between Seele and Gendo’s goals in causing Third Impact are so slim as to be basically zero (few critical differences though), I suspect Seele were deemed unnecessary and shuffled out of proceedings hastily despite their continued name-checking at this late stage) is turned into another spear because if all the spears are used up, the end of the world can’t be averted. You will have to forgive me for failing to notice how and where most of these spears (save three) wound up or what most of that means or why or how or anything. But we have a budget to squander and why not channel the Gurren Lagann energy for action one last time? And there is some action, this presumably part of what a good section of the audience have waited for with baited breath, that thing the TV series so rapidly lost interest in; that EoE staged for narrative cruelty. Smashy giant robot action time! So we get billions of Eva enemies for Asuka and Mari to cut through without problem. They explode and fall away despite exhaustively overwhelming numbers. There is a palpable lack of threat here. A few hitches but nothing the pilots can’t cope with. It’s just empty fan-service, a boast about how much can be rendered into a single frame. We get Asuka, unable to stab critically important Unit 13 (looking distinctly Unit 01-like just with four arms), and then hooking into an odd leftover thread from 2.0. Her accident in the activation test of Unit 03 has left her with a part of herself now more correctly classified as an Angel. And like 2.0 for surprise value, her Eva has special Angel blood injectors to again overcharge her Eva (which seems to be a thing in the latter three films – turn the Eva safety off and go beserk. As if Unit 01 didn’t do that all on its own in the first and second film). And this too fails. But this too is just another moment of important and pretention. Where the audience is meant to gasp at Eva/Angel hybridisation (not that the dividing line between Angles and Evas is ever completely clear (not least Unit 03)), at Asuka revealing herself to be part Angel (as if Kaworu and Rei weren’t established examples). So her Eva bloated and animalistic is... just another moment. We saw this in 2.0 with Mari releasing her limiters. We saw it in 3.0 in almost the same way. The distinction isn’t meaningfully different to the last few times the Evas were let off the leash and became more brutal. And just like the prior times this escalation of Eva body horror, ferocity, blood and over-indulged violence doesn’t actually help the situation. Asuka fails in her task as the Unit 13 counter-attacks. She’s saved by getting pulled out of reality moments before her end. Of course this being narrative, this being Eva; Gendo, the architect of this situation, is three steps ahead. Misato’s flying ship is badly and perhaps critically damaged so Gendo can retrieve the limbless body of Unit 01 formerly powering the flying ship. Shooting Gendo doesn’t work thanks to the key of Nebuchadnezzar (which did... Uh. Something? Kaji noted it as the lost number kept as a spare in 2.0 which implied Angel or Eva or... No I don’t know nor can I make sense of what it’s done to Gendo. Wikia informs me that while it’s never seen on-screen past the one time, its case is in some shots of 3.0. How amazing) and he leaves. And thus, of course, Shinji must get in the f-ing robot once more. But we’re back to the confident, more certain Shinji who 2.0 birthed as we enter the last (but still very long) final stage of the film – and restage End of Evangelion. Curious of course; EoE by turns can feel like a legitimate replacement for the final two TV series episodes or a bleakly, darkly, disturbing and flippant retort to the low-budget metaphysic version of the TV apocalypse. EoE to some has been not so much the intended ending (though buying a complete set of the old Eva in Japan will always net you the 26 original TV episodes, the four amended episodes and EoE), but more a poisoned chalice for the people who wanted a less introspective version of the end of the world and the process of human instrumentality. Anno was free to do what he wanted and veer off the tracks here – he can’t get away from the end of the world – this is integral to Eva’s base concept. 2.0’s glimpse of Second and the starts of Third Impact depict a process completely unfamiliar from the TV series’s version (reading Wikia explains some of 2.0’s imagery but is still bewildering with reference to 3.0+1.0’s reveals). In Rebuild, the end of the world is staged in the space below the strange aftermath of Second Impact, in an anti-universe where humans cannot venture. And yet, we are still clearly revisiting End of Evangelion. Not exactly the same, but a lot of imagery (the symbols in the sky, the gigantic form of Lilith at multiple points, the crucifix explosions across Earth’s surface) – to say nothing of some actual sections of animation – are taken straight from the 1997 film. Those moments and images were haunting and disturbing (the more overtly sexualised imagery has been completely removed). Clearly no matter what was said at the time or in the interim, EoE is in fact how the ending must play out; this is, or has become, what happens externally and internally when these characters attempt to force a next stage of evolution. The End of Evangelion will always be the end. ...just not quite the same. Not least it is missing most of the infamous moments (Shinji in Asuka’s hospital room is notably completely absent). There’s no moment where Shinji strangles Asuka, Komm Susser Tod is missing entire (in favour of something similar sounding but in Japanese), the live-action sequences of the empty cinema or the world without Evas aren’t utilised (though some live action footage is included), Rei betraying Gendo and beginning Third Impact outside his control etc. It's actively absurd to type this, but Lilith – Lilith! – has less character here. Which is so astonishingly absurd given the only depiction of Lilith we get is effectively Rei/Rei was Lilith the entire time, but those introspective sequences hinting at something more involved with Rei or the points Lilith does talk directly to Shinji are gone too. This shouldn’t be a surprise – we are after all missing a Rei character at the climax. Mostly. 3.0+1.0 almost expects you to remember the last time you saw Eva end the world and contrast it to this new version. The EoE imagery, the footage of Lilith descending from the crucifix, the looming figure of Lilith rising as humanity ends. Even something like the sequence of the backsides of cels running backward is reused – this footage also cribbed from EoE and played out on a wall between two characters. The animation breaks down into scratchy storyboards and later degenerates from finished footage down to outlines, animatics, and storyboard. The end of the world is this time around is more heavily meta. Both EoE and the TV episodes “staged” the process of Instrumentality (or parts of it) for Shinji. It occurs in filming spaces and on sets, there’s lighting equipment and dolls as stand-ins. The strange artificiality of pulling back the curtain on the TV or film production, or else the effect of setting the camera back further than you should for filming a theatrical experience. But even that’s a false layer given a true pull-back would be to people in front of computers or previously drawing key-frames. Here the staging is more blunt still. It begins with an Eva vs Eva fight between Gendo and Shinji in the anti-universe where their brains make sense of the impossible space with artificially staged areas of familiar locations. A fight in a city has a huge sheet as a backdrop and carboard buildings the Evas kick around. They fight in front of Nerv headquarters and in Misato’s kitchen. A blow knocks over a section of scenery and sprawls Shinji in the studio space surrounding the set. A crossroads of sort where Shinji will move on from Gendo to meet with Rei, Kaworu and Asuka. The major difference to EoE is that the end here is much more concerned with Gendo; we dive into his psyche and his past. His isolation and desire for it. This feels extremely confessional for Anno all things considered given Gendo was always previously kept at arm’s length. This feels revealing about the man behind it all, a reflection of the director. He has admitted during production that at his stage of life he is far closer to Gendo than Shinji – I think this is barely obfuscated here. The flashback is more about understanding Gendo and how Yui changed him than anything about Evas or the end of the world. Gendo’s motivation is revealed to be the same as always; this is how he gets to be with Yui again. Odd details catch as this past plays out. And is that Mari in his memories? Mari, who Fuyustuki calls Mary Iscariot upon meeting her and has prepared something for her. Which feels much more like religious buzz words; there’s an obvious implication coached in that selection of a name, but how it actually relates to the story or the circumstances is really unclear. Nor am I clear on what Fuyutsuki prepared. He explodes into LCL like last time too. The process is so close to EoE but the mood is lighter and the reasoning behind the cast a little different. Asuka is part of a clone series – same as Rei. Just without the physical signifiers that Kaworu and Rei exhibit and the prior short-hand for clones in this universe (as noted, their design is intended to invoke lab rats). Nice consistency there. The beach ending from EoE is re-done under a blue sky; Asuka is saved thanks to Shinji and Mari working in concert. Kaworu’s beach meeting with Shinji is restaged, the newer, confident Shinji discussing the circular system that delivers Kaworu into his place at the end of the world. So Eva has happened before, meta-wise or time-wise or dimensionally. Take it as you will, no interpretation is more valid than another. Only that Kaworu remembers them all. It’s happened before and it’s expected to happen again. But Shinji’s different now, so the end of the world is different. Now it’s time to move on; Kaworu is left with Kaji to tend the earth assured the cycle of Eva productions is at an end – both have been dead all this time. Anno’s attitude to his seeming forever association with this one franchise his and his desire to set it down and move on? EoE finished in space; 3.0+1.0 finishes beneath the Antarctic. The idea of Unit 01 living forever as a testament to humanity is no factor at all Shinji intending (and his parents possibly driving) the final riddance of the Evas from reality – none can be allowed to remain. But now, the film takes an odd turn, and as with EoE, there’s the coda. In EoE this was the beach scene. For Rebuild: The sun shines, the sky is blue. An adult Shinji sits in a train station and meets with Mari. She’s older too now; the pair share a kiss and run from the station hand in hand. So. Uh. Yeah. That happened. There’s Kaworu and Rei seemingly alive and well as adults. And Asuka of course. But Shinji winds up with Mari. Mari who knew everything the whole time and might somehow have been part of Gendo’s group at university and known Yui and no, we are not getting any insight into those peculiarities! (or more plausibly it could be Mari’s mother who looks near identical to Mari but... What are we meant to take from this, really?). Mari who met Shinji in a handful of brief moments and has never spent any actual time with him. Mari won the love-triangle! But this is not some simple alternate reality, a different better take world where the cast existed in something resembling our reality; Shinji still wears the exploding DSS collar given to him before rejoining the giant robot fray. Mari effortlessly removes it from his neck. The film ends with a live-action sequence – this is reportedly Anno’s hometown. The world without Evas; we passed the relevant date while 3.0+1.0 was stalled. Shinji made it to 2014, or more plausibly past it in a world without Second Impact. And he’s happy, well-adjusted, and... Not really recognisable as Shinji. Shinji now exists in the present, not the future as he had for so long in pop-culture. But he’s in a different 2021; a world without the pandemic. And that was Rebuild; a project intended as a new introduction to Evangelion that blatantly had its entire core conceit revised at least twice (the 4th film delayed because of Shin Godzilla and then a struggle to write at all) that increasingly and confusingly leant more and more on its famed initial incarnation even as it veered increasingly and erratically away from the familiar sequences. I liked 3.0+1.0 more than 3.0, but can’t help but still bemoan whatever 3.0 was going to be when 2.0 happened. The alternate other sequence. And despite it all, despite the allusions to a repetition of Eva and of this being the break in the chain, even those working on and involved with the film see even this as a definitive end. Even Anno’s not convinced that’s the last word. Eva will come back all over again; naturally – there’s money to be made here, and what’s yet another alternate take to add to the TV series, the manga, the games, the other manga, EoE, Rebuild and so on. Kaworu apparently is indeed doomed to revisit this forever alongside everyone else and also remember that for once he was gifted a true end. An impossible conclusion for modern pop-culture it feels.

#long post

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upontheshelfreviews · 4 years

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Whenever I discuss Sleeping Beauty with someone who doesn’t share my enthusiasm for Disney, they have an irksome tendency to get it muddled with Snow White; their excuse being “it has the same plot”. I’ll admit, there are some surface similarities that even the most casual viewer can pick up on: a fairytale where a princess is forced into unconsciousness and wakes up with some necking, the comic relief and villain being the most beloved characters, a little frolic in the forest with animals, the antagonist plunging off a cliff, you get the idea. In fact, Sleeping Beauty even reuses some discarded story beats from Snow White, mainly our couple dancing on a cloud and the villain capturing the prince to prevent him from waking his princess. Yet despite that, Snow White and Sleeping Beauty are two wholly different movies shaped by the era and talents of the time.

I’ve discussed how Walt Disney was never one to stick to a repeated formula, no matter how successful it was. He must have noticed the parallels between his first movie and this one, but decided to make one crucial change for Sleeping Beauty that would forever differentiate the two: the look. We all know the traditional Disney house style: round, soft shapes, big eyes; charming as it was and still is, Walt was sick of it after several decades. Meanwhile, artists like Mary Blair and Eyvind Earle were producing gorgeous concept art that rarely made a perfect translation into the Disney house style.

Walt wanted to make a feature that took the pop artistry of their designs and made the animation work for it instead of the other way around – which brings us to another animation studio that was doing well at the time, United Pictures Animation, or UPA.

UPA didn’t have the kind of budget Disney normally had for their animated projects, but what they lacked in fluidity they made up for in style. Watch The Tell-Tale Heart, Gerald McBoing-Boing and Rooty-Toot-Toot to see what I mean. UPA were pioneers of limited animation, taking their scant resources and creating some striking visuals with bold geometric designs. Through this, they defined the look of 50’s animation. Though perhaps unintentional, Sleeping Beauty comes across as Disney’s response to UPA, or what would happen if UPA had the funds they deserved. The characters’ contours are angular but effortlessly graceful, defining their inherent dignity and royalty. And the colors, ohhh the colors…

Because of the immense amount of work required to animate in this difficult new style (and in the Cinemascope ratio, no less) as well as story troubles and Walt barely supervising the animation studio now that he had his hands full with live-action films, television, and a theme park, Sleeping Beauty had a turbulent production that lasted the entirety of the 1950s. For a time, Chuck Jones of Looney Tunes fame was set to direct. Director Wilfred Jackson suffered a heart attack partway through production and Eric Larson, one of the Nine Old Men, took the mantle from there before Walt Disney replaced him Clyde Geronimi. And even after that, Wolfgang Reitherman teamed up with Geronimi as co-director to get the film finished after no less than three delays. Also, Don Bluth got his foot in the door as an assistant animator for this feature, beginning his short-lived but impactful tenure at Disney. Did all this hamper the movie, or did they succeed in what they set out to accomplish?

Well, one of the reasons why this review took so long was because I had a hard time not repeating “MOVIE PRETTY” and “MALEFICENT AWESOME” over and over. Make what you will of that.

The story begins as most fairy tales do with your typical king, Stefan, and his queen suddenly blessed with a baby girl after years of wishing for a child. They christen their daughter Aurora (middle name Borealis, localized entirely within their castle) and throw a huge celebration in her honor. People come from all over the kingdom to pay homage to the princess and OSMKFKSBFHFGILWBHBFC…

Movie pretty…

MOVIE PRETTIEEEEEE…

John Hench, Academy Award-winning special effects man and art director, turned Walt on to the idea of basing the look of Sleeping Beauty on classic medieval artwork. Thanks to him and Eyvind Earle’s insanely detailed designs and backgrounds, this is one of Disney’s most visually distinct and beautiful films. A single still from this feature wouldn’t feel out of place up in The Cloisters.

Among the party guests is King Stefan’s old friend King Hubert (Bill Thompson) bringing his young son Prince Philip. Stefan and Hubert wish to unite their two kingdoms and formally announce Philip’s betrothal to the infant Aurora.

“We were going to do it during the second trimester, but we decided to wait until she was more mature.”

By the way, your eyes are not deceiving you. That is Aurora’s mother, Queen Leah, alive and well and named. And frabjous day calloo callay, she even gets some lines! The most common joke about Disney princesses is that they don’t have moms (even Ralph Breaks The Internet went out of its way to highlight that), so as a hardcore Disney fan who often has to put up with this generalization, Leah’s existence leaves me feeling vindicated.

Once that happy revelation is out of the way, we’re introduced to our main protagonists.

Oh, you thought I was referring to Philip and Aurora? Nonononono, my friends. THESE are the true heroes of Sleeping Beauty, the Three Good Fairies.

The fairies started off as one-note side characters sharing the same personality. Think pre-Ducktales-reboot Huey, Dewey, and Louie in dresses. But the studio had a difficult time giving Aurora more depth and was having a lot more fun developing the fairies. Naturally, they became so fascinating and appealing that more screentime was given over to them. Now the story’s carried by three wonderfully fleshed out ladies who are distinct in both looks and personality: Flora’s the pragmatic tradition-adhering leader, Fauna’s the sweet scatterbrain who mediates, and Merryweather’s the feisty young upstart.

With the plot now focused on characters who held a traditionally minor role, it’s easy to read this as a perspective-flipped version of the fairytale, but there’s more to it than that. Remember in my Clash of the Titans review how I mentioned the gods literally play chess using the heroes as pieces? I tend to view the main conflict of Sleeping Beauty in the same way. The Three Fairies and Maleficent are in a constant game of good vs. evil, moving Aurora, Philip, and the rest of the royals as pawns in their plans. There’s plenty of plotting and intrigue, with both sides constantly guessing and second-guessing the other’s next maneuver, and even if you’re already familiar with the story’s trajectory you’re still left on the edge of your seat as it inches towards the fiery climax.

And dare I say it but…the fairies and their power dynamic make this Disney’s most feminist film. Yes, really. You could argue that some of the other animated movies from the Renaissance and Revival period have more notable, stronger female protagonists, and many of the live-action remakes try to be woke without really grasping the concept, but consider this: The cast of Sleeping Beauty is mostly female, the leads aren’t objectified in any manner (that is if you count Aurora as a supporting character), nor does their gender factor into their competency, each one differs in age and body type, and most of them are working together towards a common goal as opposed to against each other. Name a movie in the past decade that does the same and still manages to be entertaining (no, really, I’d love to see it). There’s even one scene that unintentionally provides great commentary on the divides in the feminist movement, but more on that later.

Flora and Fauna bless the baby with beauty and song respectively which are accompanied by a short chorus and some sumptuous graphics. I don’t think I need to reiterate that when this movie goes extra with the visuals, it GOES EXTRA with the visuals. Next comes Merryweather with her gift. To this day, no one knows what Merryweather intended to give Aurora. Flora’s the most traditionally feminine of the three so her giving Aurora beauty comes as no surprise. By comparison, Merryweather is the most forward (or unconventional, depending on your point of view). I wouldn’t put it past her to favor Aurora with intelligence, or humor, or passion, or creativity or humility or confidence or decisiveness or physical fitness or great swordsmanship or telekinesis or ice powers or one million YouTube subscribers or comfort in her female sexuality.

Me personally, I think I’ve got the best gift of all:

“O Princess, my gift shall be…getting all reviews posted on time for once!”

Alas, before Merryweather can bestow such a wondrous quality upon the child, she’s interrupted by a horny party crasher.

Maleficent. The Mistress of All Evil. Chernabog’s right-hand witch. The Disney villain all Disney villains strive to be. She has it all – the looks, the poise, the power, the laugh, the cunning, the ruthlessness! She doesn’t even need to sing a song because she’s already awesome enough without one. Marc Davis’ gothic design cuts a fine figure and Eleanor Audley’s subtle icy voicework is trés magnifique. As much as I enjoy Audley as Cinderella’s evil stepmother, Lady Tremaine was but an appetizer in comparison to the four-course banquet of pure villainy that is Maleficent.

This leads to a small point of contention some viewers have with Maleficent in spite of hitting top marks elsewhere: her motivation. Putting a hit out on a child for not getting invited to a measly party? Not exactly compelling, is it? And yes, it isn’t a deep motive…is what I would say if I wasn’t well-versed in folkloric tradition. In the original fairy tale and the movie (though it isn’t outright stated in the latter), the party for Aurora isn’t just your average royal kegger, it’s a christening. Back in ye olden days, christenings were very big deals. To not receive an invitation to one was a grave insult, so not extending an invite to your semi-omnipotent magical neighbor is just asking for trouble. In the fairy tale’s defense, no one had seen the evil fairy for years and assumed she was dead, though I can’t imagine how nobody thought Maleficent wouldn’t find about it eventually.

“You dare to deny me, foolish mortals? Very well, then! I shall have my own christening! With blackjack! And strumpets!”

Maleficent is proof that sometimes you don’t have to have an elaborate backstory, a god complex, a tragic past or the unfortunate luck to be on the wrong side of a conflict. Sometimes all you need is some magic, brains, class, and a whole lot of flair to be a perfect, intimidating, and unquestionably iconic villain.

Basically what I’m saying is these movies never happened. Got it?

Maleficent is disarmingly polite over being snubbed, even after Merryweather bluntly tells her nobody wanted her to come. She even brought her own gift for the baby – sixteen years of life cut short by the prick of a spinning wheel spindle, because why change into a dragon and destroy everyone all at once when you can draw the torture out over an agonizingly long time and deliver the coup de grace in the prime of a young woman’s life? That’s how Maleficent rolls, baby. She could dole out capital punishment when she has to without batting an eyelid, but causing human suffering is her bread and butter.

Stefan begs the fairies to undo Maleficent’s curse, but it’s too strong for them. Flora and Fauna insist, however, that Merryweather can use her gift to lessen the spell’s potency. Now instead of dying from that fatal prick, Aurora will sleep until she receives True Love’s Kiss™. Stefan’s not one to throw caution to the wind though, so he orders all of the kingdom’s spinning wheels to be burned in the meantime.

I just pray his kingdom’s economy wasn’t based on textiles otherwise they’re screwed.

As the peasantry celebrates Guy Fawkes Day several centuries early, the fairies ponder their next move. They’ve been around long enough to know that removing spinning wheels from the equation won’t put a damper on Maleficent’s scheme. This scene is incredibly effective in establishing two things:

Maleficent’s near-omniscient presence in the film

How well the fairies’ differing personalities play off each other

Maleficent rarely miscalculates her opponents, and that guile puts her one step ahead of the heroes, making her one of the few Disney villains to nearly reach their goal. The only mistake she makes in the entire movie is trusting her henchmen to do their jobs when she isn’t directly supervising them, though that’s more on them than her. The different methods the fairies propose to deal with Maleficent fantastically illustrate what kind of people they are. Fauna believes she’s just a miserable soul who could be reasoned with if they talk things over. Merryweather would rather take the fight to Maleficent and turn her into a toad. Flora, however, is wise enough to know Maleficent’s too wicked to plead to, too clever to bargain with and too strong to face head-on, so their best course of action is to focus on protecting Aurora through any means necessary. Her initial idea is to enchant the princess into a flower (her namesake is her specialty, after all), but Merryweather reminds her that Maleficent enjoys creating bitter frosts just to kill her flowers.

“Well we could try that but stick her in a castle with a beast for a while…nah, that’ll never work.”

Yet never one to give up, Flora alters the plan so they’ll raise Aurora as a peasant girl out in the woods. This means disguising themselves as humans and giving up magic for sixteen years so as to not attract Maleficent, but that amount of time is like twenty minutes to the fair folk. Stefan and Leah reluctantly agree to the plan, and the fairies spirit little Aurora away from the castle that very night.

Sixteen years later, Maleficent is infuriated that her minions have failed to locate Aurora, even more so when one reveals that they’ve spent the whole time looking for a baby instead of a maturing woman. In an interview with the Rotoscopers podcast, Don Bluth called Maleficent a very flat antagonist because she surrounds lackeys dumber than her so she could be the smart one among them and, again, her supposed lack of motivation. But come on, let’s not entirely condemn the bad guys for having too much faith in their underlings. It’s difficult to find minions smart enough to carry out orders but dumb enough to stay unquestioningly loyal. Usually you have to register as Republican in order to get some.

Maleficent gets her anger out in the most therapeutic way – throwing lightning bolts at her orcs, awesome – then leaves the job of finding Aurora up to her trusty raven Diablo. We then finally see the grown-up Aurora herself, whom the fairies renamed Briar Rose as a nod to the Brothers Grimm version of this tale.

I know I’ve made the occasional case for the princesses from Walt’s era compared to the present day, and yet I have a hard time defending how…I don’t want to say bland. Bland would mean there’s nothing interesting about Aurora, and that’s a lie. She’s gorgeously designed and drawn, and even in her peasant dress she has an air of elegance and sophistication. She carries herself like a queen; her innate royalty reveals itself in her graceful movements. Mary Costa also gifts her with an excellent set of pipes. Hearing her song echoing through the forest is nothing short of magical. She’s a flower child who can talk to animals. She has dreams of escaping her adopted aunts’ loving but stifling care and being allowed to grow up, see the world, actually talk to people, and even find a life partner. She has some strong potential. It’s not that Aurora’s boring, she’s just not quite as developed as we’ve come to expect our animated female protagonists to be. I’m grateful for what we’ve got, but I only wish we could have more. What was her childhood like? How did she learn to communicate with animals? When did the fairies trust her enough to let her spend time out on her own? Did the fairies ever subtly teach her lessons in royalty through lessons and games? Heck, nobody bothers to keep her informed about Maleficent or her curse, and they act surprised when she’s shocked to learn she was a princess the whole time. I want to see what Aurora could have been like if she had known the truth already and what kind of steps she would take to defend herself. Blame the source material for this; it’s difficult to write a compelling main character when she’s supposed to sleep through most of her story.

The fairies send Aurora on a fetch quest so they can plan a surprise birthday party for her. Merryweather wants to bring their magic wands back out for the job, but Flora insists on taking no chances now that they’re in the home stretch. Fauna gets to live her dream of baking an elaborate cake (it’s thanks to her referring to a teaspoon as a “tsp” that I do it too), and Flora insists on making Aurora a gown fit for a princess using Merryweather as a dummy. And we also get one of the best burns in the Disney canon:

Merryweather: It looks awful! Flora: That’s because it’s on you, dear.

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The fairies fall into reminiscing over raising Aurora and get teary over having to let her go soon. I see where they’re coming from, they’re the ones who raised her for sixteen years. They must have so many fond memories, not to mention they put all that work into learning to properly raise a child let alone live like normal human beings seeing how two of them still can’t sew or cook without magic. I wonder what that was like –

No, NO, you CGI abominations DO NOT exist! Go back to the fires from whence you came!!

“Ugh, I’m gonna need something strong to expunge that from my eyes.”

There we go.

Aurora wanders through the forest, drawing out the usual bevy of cute woodland critters with her singing. She also catches the attention of a grown-up Prince Philip (Billy Shirley) who’s more dashing and considerably less blonde than he was sixteen years ago.

By this point, the Disney animators were far more confident in their ability to draw realistic but expressive leading men, hence Philip’s expanded role from the story. He’s also the first Disney prince to have a personality; not a terribly deep or defined one, but it’s a step up from his nameless plot-device predecessors. There are some signs of him being a hopeless romantic, he gets a few funny lines here and there, has a sturdy friendship with his horse Samson, and is fiercely determined when it’s time to kick some ass. He does have the same problem as Aurora in he randomly decides to stop talking for the rest of the movie once he reaches the midway mark (at least Aurora has the excuse that she’s sleeping for that remainder), but I suppose you could chalk this up as to him wanting to spite Maleficent with his silence.

The animals steal some of Philip’s clothes so they can pretend to be Aurora’s dream prince. Aurora plays along as she sings the movie’s standout song, “Once Upon a Dream”. Philip and Samson watch until he smooths his way into the dance. Once Aurora discovers the switch, Philip gets a little too up in her personal space for my liking, constantly grabbing her hand so she doesn’t run off and pulling her closer to him. Not as horrible as what the prince does to the sleeping princess in the original story (a questionably consensual kiss is a trifle compared to how the scumbag of a prince treats her there), but still a bit iffy.

“It’s a good thing my aunts taught me to never go anywhere without a loaded pistol taped to my back.”

But once Philip backs off a little and joins in her song, they both dance together and OEHSGBJSGBLL…

I think I’m going to need surgery to get my jaw off the floor back into its proper place thanks to this movie.

As per Disney tradition, Aurora and Philip’s waltz means the two are head over heels in love with each other. But when it comes time to finally exchange names, Aurora panics and runs away, though she sticks around long enough to tell Philip to meet her family at the cottage that evening.

Back at home, the party preparations aren’t proceeding as planned. Flora’s dress looks as good as my attempts at dressmaking, and Fauna’s dessert wouldn’t feel out of place on Cake Wrecks.

A fed-up Merryweather reads Flora and Fauna the riot act and convinces them to finally take up their wands again. This produces more desirable results, though Merryweather still gets stuck with cleanup duty.

Enchanting a broom to come to life and do your dirty work? I don’t see this going wrong in any possible way.

Things start to go south when Flora and Merryweather argue over the dress color and it escalates into a full-blown wizard’s duel. This gag was supposedly based on the animators’ arguments over what was Aurora’s proper dress color. I think they should have compromised and combined both colors to make purple, which would go lovely with Aurora’s violet eyes, but what do I know. I’m just the illustration major writing a blog. Unfortunately, while the fairies remembered to cover every door, window, and crack that could expose their magic, they overlooked the fireplace. The sparkly residue of Flora and Merryweather’s fight fly up the chimney, alerting Diablo to their hideaway.

Going back to what I said earlier about this movie providing some commentary on feminism, consider this: Flora is obsessed with pink, a traditionally female color, and she gives Aurora an attribute that is oft preferred in a woman but not the most important quality, beauty. Merryweather, on the other hand, is all about blue, a color usually geared towards boys, and she has much more common sense and practicality about her. Though Merryweather and Flora are able to put aside their differences in personalities and approaches for a common goal, it’s when they refuse to compromise and begin prioritizing which color – ie. which ideology and extension of themselves – that they want Aurora to step into that they lose sight of what’s important, and allow everything they worked for to collapse on itself. It’s played for laughs very well, sure, but if not’s symbolic of the dichotomy between traditional femininity and modern sensibility that tears apart the feminist movement then I don’t know what is.

The fairies manage to fix their messes in time for Aurora’s return. She’s thrilled with their gifts but shocks them all when she announces her new boyfriend is coming over for dinner. They come clean about her heritage and betrothal to Prince Philip, and Aurora runs up to her room in tears over the fact that she’ll never see her one true love again. That and her entire life has been a lie and she’s being carted off to meet parents she knows nothing about to marry a man she’s never met and rule an entire kingdom with no prior experience or knowledge. But mostly the true love thing.

Meanwhile, Stefan and Hubert are making wedding plans over wine with “Skumps”, the preferred toast between me and my friends. Also adding to the humor is a minstrel who keeps stealing sips until he literally drinks himself under the table.

This was also his way of getting through the Black Plague, co-opted by the rest of the world six hundred years later.

Philip returns and Hubert goes to greet him. He thinks his son is thrilled at the prospect of marrying Aurora but is disappointed to learn that he’s fallen for an anonymous peasant.

“At least tell me if she’s royalty in disguise so you don’t elope to Sicily!”

Philip rides back into the woods for his big date, leaving Hubert with the unenviable task of breaking the bad news to Stefan. As for Aurora, the fairies smuggle her into the castle and prep her for her homecoming. She’s still blue over having to ghost her forest hubby though, so the fairies give her some time to herself.

Biiiiiiiiig mistake.

So imagine you’re me, growing up watching this movie on tape on a television set with a very standard but not spectacular sound system. Then years later you download the remastered soundtrack and give it a listen while you’re falling asleep. You’ve got the whole score memorized, the volume is nice and low, it’s all good.

And then, just as you’re drifting off, you hear a ghostly voice singing in your ear “Auroraaa…Auroraaaaa…”

That reminds me, I haven’t had a chance to talk about the music yet, haven’t I? Forgive me for waiting so long to do so but my reaction to it is equivalent to the visuals. The score is taken straight from the Sleeping Beauty ballet by Tchaikovsky, the same composer as The Nutcracker, and it is lush, sweeping, sumptuous, just…

While George Bruns was mostly faithful with how the score was represented within the context of the ballet, at certain points he took the same approach as The Nutcracker Prince and rearranged the music order to underscore totally different scenes to staggering effect. The beautifully ominous music where Maleficent appears as a ball of green flame and leads the hypnotized Aurora to her doom? It’s from one of the ballet’s divertissements where Puss in Boots dances with his girlfriend. But tell me which is more fitting for a musical composition such as this – two cats pirouetting around each other in a crowded ballroom, or eerie pitch-black spiral staircases illuminated by green fire as a cursed princess inches closer to her dark destiny against her will?

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The fairies realize their error and frantically search the maze of secret passages for Aurora. Though the princess resists Maleficent’s commands for only a moment, they are still too late to save her from fulfilling the curse. Maleficent gloats and leaves the fairies to wallow in their failure. It’s made even worse as the merrymaking from the oblivious revelers below ring out while they put Aurora to bed in a tower and mourn over her. It’s heartbreaking: they raised and loved her as if she were their own daughter, and they still couldn’t protect her. Everyone talks about “Baby Mine” and Bambi’s mom as huge tearjerkers, but why is this scene constantly forgotten?

Stupid onions, stupid stupid onions…

Fauna and Merryweather can’t even begin to imagine how heartbroken Stefan and Leah will be, but Flora has a solution: put the kingdom to sleep along with Aurora until she is woken up. I understand her wanting to spare Aurora’s family some pain, but conking out an entire principality for god knows how long to cover up their failure? AND at a time when Europe was all about invading and conquering itself? Are we sure this isn’t just part of Maleficent’s overarching plan for revenge? This sounds more like something she would come up with instead of the leader of the good guys.

“So what happens if one of the neighboring kingdoms decides to attack while everyone’s sleeping?”

“Then we’ll put them and their armies to sleep, too.”

“And once Aurora is saved, both kingdoms will immediately wake up to find themselves thrust into a war they’re barely prepared for, is that correct?”

“Oh, you’re right, that’s a terrible idea.”

“Finally, thank you.”

“I’ll just turn them all into flowers.”

“THAT’S NOT AN OPTION!!!”

The fairies flitter about the castle grounds spreading their spell over the unwitting royal court, even putting the candles and sconces out. We have another reprise of the “Gifts of Beauty and Song” chorus now altered to sound like a lullaby, providing an interesting bit of symmetry between it and its earlier use in the film. Whereas it first underscored their blessings upon Aurora, now it plays as the fairies are giving the “gift” of sleep to the entire castle.

While Flora knocks out the throne room, she overhears Hubert muttering about Philip eloping with a peasant girl and she makes the connection. The fairies speed to the cottage just as Philip arrives there. But once again Maleficent beats them to the punch. Her goons ambush Philip and she watches them wrestle and bond him with fiendish glee.

You magnificent, kinky bitch.

Maleficent was only out to capture the one man who could break Aurora’s curse; the fact that he’s really the son of her nemesis’ allies is just icing on the cake. Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather resolve to rescue him from Maleficent’s fortress in the Forbidden Mountain.

Some movies reach the brink of greatness only to falter when it comes to the final act. Sleeping Beauty is not one of them. Everything that happens from the moment we slowly zoom in through the purple mist on to the Forbidden Mountain itself up until the storybook closes is perfection. The perfectly paced action, the animation, the music, Maleficent’s hideaway in all its decaying glory (I swear it’s like Jean Cocteau meets Frank Frazetta meets Giotto) all make for the climax of climaxes.

The fairies shrink to insect size and silently sneak through Maleficent’s creepy domain, narrowly running into guards and gargoyles at every turn. They traverse the stronghold until they find her overseeing a hellish bacchanalia in honor of her supposed victory.

“My old gaffer would have a thing or two to say if he could see us now.”

Soon Maleficent gets bored and goes to “cheer up” her captive. Then we have it: The Moment.

I’ve talked about this before, that one small, devious step further the villain takes to make themselves more heinous in our eyes. It’s the Wicked Witch taunting Dorothy with visions of Aunt Em. It’s the Beldam hanging Other Wybie’s remains. It’s virtually everything Heath Ledger’s Joker does. And it is this simple scene where Maleficent details what she plans to do with Philip. She spins “a charming fairy tale come true” of Aurora sleeping without aging, waiting for her prince to come to wake her. And Philip will escape the dungeon, ride to her rescue and prove true love conquers all – in one hundred years, when he’s a broken old husk of a man on the brink of death. DAMN. If you want to know why Maleficent is considered the best of all the Disney villains, it’s not just all her previously praised qualities, it’s her sheer sadism and the pleasure she takes in it.

The fairies enter and free Philip once Maleficent departs. The course of true love never runs smoothly though, so they arm him with the Shield of Virtue (licensed by Carefree Maxi-Pads), and the Sword of Truth to aid in his escape.

“So, why’s it called the Sword of Truth?”

“Anyone who’s subjected to it speaks only the truth…as they bleed out and die, of course.”

“Cool, cool. On an unrelated note, I think I’m gonna go to DC for my honeymoon.”

Diablo sounds the alarm and the Battle With the Forces of Evil kicks off with Philip slashing his Sword of Truth through Maleficent’s goons.

“I steal lunches from the break room fridge!” “I broke wind last Tuesday and blamed it on the dog!” “I cried like a little girl during The Good Place finale!” “I only wash my hands for NINETEEN seconds at a time!”

Philip makes his getaway on Samson and the music reaches truly operatic levels as Maleficent does everything in her power to end him. Yet Philip soldiers through it like a boss. Crumbling mountainsides, Maleficent hurling lightning from the sky and summoning a forest of thorns to block the way? Fuck that shit, he’s gotta go save his girl.

Then, as Philip cuts his way through the briars, Maleficent looks at her watch, realizes it’s No More Fucking Around O’Clock, zooms over to the castle, throws down the most intimidating challenge ever –

“Now you shall deal with me, O Prince, and all the powers of HELL!!”

– and with that, she takes her final form: a massive fire-breathing dragon.

Every Disney villain who’s gone kaiju in the final act owes everything to this gorgeous terrifying beast. The dragon is an awe-inspiring unholy fusion of style, power and darkness. There’s a reason why she’s the final boss in Fantasmic; the chance to watch a live dragon battle is too cool to pass up.

Speaking of battles, Maleficent’s dragon form was animated by Woolie Reitherman, who previously brought us such gargantuan monster clashes as the T-rex brawl in Fantasia and the escape from Monstro The Whale in Pinocchio. And when you have a dragon confronting a fairytale prince, well, you know what’s coming.

Maleficent backs Philip on to a cliff surrounded by flames, leaving him only one desperate shot. With a little extra magic from the fairies, he throws his Sword of Truth at Maleficent and it plunges right into her heart.

“I liked…Frozen 2…more than the first one…”

Maleficent’s spells die with her, clearing the way for Philip. He gives Aurora that wake-up smooch and everyone in the castle slowly rouses, owing their inexplicable simultaneous twenty-minute blackout to the unusually strong wine.

He can attest to that fact.

The royal families are happily reunited, and the film ends on Flora and Merryweather fighting over Aurora’s dress color yet again as she and Philip waltz together on the clouds using animation Beauty and the Beast would borrow thirty-two years later.

Sleeping Beauty is a movie I can never have on in the background because the moment I look up from my work I am spellbound by it. Do I need to elaborate on how this is one of the most beautiful looking and sounding movies Disney’s ever produced? Sleeping Beauty is the swan song of Disney’s first golden age of animation. For better or for worse, their animation process would switch to the rough, cost-cutting Xerox process starting with their next feature, 101 Dalmatians, and few films would reach Sleeping Beauty’s level of gorgeousness ever since.

Though a massive financial and critical hit on release, it wasn’t enough to make up for the monstrous production costs, not unlike Fantasia. Thankfully, home video sales revived interest and made it Sleeping Beauty of the top-selling VHS tapes of the decade, cementing it as a bonafide classic. It’s one of my favorites from Disney for its stunning visuals, gorgeous music, phenomenal villain and overlooked but great cast characters. Revisit it if you haven’t already.

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this review, please consider supporting this misfit on Patreon. Patreon supporters receive great perks such as extra votes for movie reviews, movie requests, early sneak-peeks and more! Special thanks to Amelia Jones, Gordhan Rajani and Sam Minden for their contributions!

Artwork by Charles Moss.

Screencaps from animationscreencaps.com

March Review: Sleeping Beauty (1959) Whenever I discuss Sleeping Beauty with someone who doesn't share my enthusiasm for Disney, they have an irksome tendency to get it muddled with Snow White; their excuse being "it has the same plot".

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vgperson · 4 years

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What Did I Do In 2019?

#vgperson

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shirasade · 4 years

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Detective!AU

Some soft sick fic, because I have a cold. I’m tagging all entries of this ‘verse with “medent au” - there’s also a masterlist, with all ficlets in both posting and chronological order. I'm also posting on AO3.

Feel free to leave me feedback and prompts. :)

When Fighter ambled into the bullpen, he was rather surprised not to be greeted by the familiar sight of his partner already sat at his desk, diligently doing paperwork. Tutor was literally the only detective in the precinct who was on top of his inbox, something Fighter envied, albeit not to the extent that he'd get up earlier to follow his example. In short, it was rare for him to be the first one in, so he told himself it was entirely normal to feel a slight pang of worry.

Looking around the office, he kept his voice carefully light as he asked, "Hey, Zol, any idea why Tutor's not here yet?"

"Yeah, he called in sick earlier." Sounding much too casual for Fighter's taste, their bubbly office admin looked up from her ubiquitous phone and shot him an amused glance. "He said not to worry and that P' should use the day to catch up on your paperwork."

There was indeed a precariously stacked pile of files on Fighter's desk, but instead of following his partner's sound advice, Fighter turned on his heel, ignoring Zol's knowing giggles. On the way to Tutor's place, he stopped by a pharmacy and a food stall, before parking his bike in front of the condo he'd been to only once before, on that rather memorable night when they'd been rained on. Heat curled in Fighter's stomach when he remembered Tutor's body above his, their bare chests pressed together as he spelled out the rules he expected Fighter to follow should they decide to take things further. The heat in his partner's eyes had had Fighter breathless and uncomfortably hard long before Tutor had smirked and slid to the floor to thoroughly wreck Fighter with his mouth.

Mentally giving himself a shake, Fighter forced his mind away from the tantalising but entirely untimely memories. This was not what today was about.

It took Tutor a worryingly long time to answer the door after Fighter rang it. Long enough for Fighter to second-guess his impulsive behaviour more than once, but he stood his ground and was finally rewarded with the sight of his partner, staring at him as if he wasn't quite sure he was dreaming. "P'Fight? What are you doing here?"

"What do you mean? Looking after my partner, of course." Avoiding Tutor's eyes, Fighter shouldered his way in and plopped his two bags onto the kitchen counter. "Last time I checked that's not a crime."

"No... No, of course not." Tutor sounded uncharacteristically hesitant, and a quick sideways glance made Fighter's heart clench. His partner was clad in soft flannel pajamas, hair an unstyled mess, eyes overly bright. It was an altogether much too endearing sight.

Holding back the urge to press his palm to Tutor's forehead to check his temperature, Fighter focused on unpacking and asked gruffly, "Have you eaten? I brought you congee from that place you like."

"Oh, I-- I'm fine, really," Tutor protested weakly, but he didn't resist when Fighter pushed him down onto the couch and set the food down in front of him. "Um... thank you, P'."

While he ate, Tutor kept glancing at Fighter as if he couldn't quite process what was going on. Was he really so unused to being taken care of? The thought was surprisingly painful, and Fighter determined to make sure Tutor would know he could always count on him, not just on the job. Whatever else they were, they were partners, after all, and at this point it wouldn't be too much to also call them friends. Was it?

To distract himself from these unwelcome thoughts, Fighter busied himself cleaning up a little. This mostly consisted of picking up the used tissues and tea cups littered all over the place, putting the latter into the dishwasher, since normally Tutor was a scrupulously tidy man. A quick check of the bedroom led to him also remaking the bed, since the sheets were disgustingly clammy with sweat. He did all of this in silence, except for asking for the location of clean bedding. Tutor didn't speak either, but Fighter could feel his eyes on him almost the entire time.

The silence, if not exactly comfortable, was at least not awkward, and Fighter almost regretted it when there was nothing more to do. By that time Tutor had finished eating, even if there were still some leftovers. Fighter removed the plate, prattling on as he unpacked the bag from the pharmacy, "I'll put the food in the fridge, you can eat it later. Have you all the medication you need? If not, I bought pills for your fever and some other stuff they said would help with a cold."

"I... yes, I have what I need." Tutor still sounded rather dazed and made as if to stand up. In a flash, Fighter was by his side, steadying him with an arm around his middle. Their eyes met, and Fighter flattered himself that not all the colour in his partner's cheeks was due to the fever. "Really, P'Fight, I'll be fine, you should go back to the precinct."

Fighter wasn't sure what it meant that despite his words Tutor didn't move away, maybe even leaned into his embrace a little. Pleasure bubbled up in him, and a strange sort of warm pride that Tutor would allow himself to be weak in front of him, and he couldn't help the smile on his face as he led Tutor to his bed. "I'll leave as soon as I know you're taken care of."

Despite his words, however, he settled down on the edge of the bed and fussed over his partner until Tutor's eyes grew heavy with sleep. Only then did he get up, after giving into temptation and running his fingers through Tutor's hair. It was slightly matted with sweat, making Fighter regret that he hadn't insisted on a shower. Still, there was no way he was forcing him to get up again. Instead he leaned down and pressed his lips to Tutor's forehead, whispering, "Rest well, Tor; I'll check on you again this evening."

There was no reply, just a peaceful smile spreading on Tutor's face, which Fighter took with him as he tiptoed out of the condo.

#medent au #why r u?#wru the series #tutor x fighter #fighter x tutor #boys love #my fic #my own stuff

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kronim195 · 4 years

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FF7 Remake Spoilers

One big thing that really annoyed me with FF7 Remake is that this is absolutely NOT a game you should play if you haven’t played the original. Without the extra context you’re just not gonna be able to understand or appreciate anything. This game only works as a companion piece to the old game.

Look at Sephiroth for example. He shows up so frequently and is treated with zero subtly or buildup. Given how prevalent he is here, and how he is the final boss, it doesn’t work at all to still make everything about him so vague and give us next to no information about him. Yes, we the people who have played FF7 know about Sephiroth, but using ONLY information provided by this remake, try to explain who Sephiroth is, what he wants, and why he keeps messing with Cloud. It’s literally impossible to do so. Like are new players really supposed to be compelled by this big, epic emotional climactic fight when they still have no clue what this guy’s deal is? Are they really supposed to feel something when the game calls back to the iconic white flashing standoff between him and Cloud, when they still have zero context for who these characters actually are or their history together? It’s just lame man. It’s blatant, shallow fan-service that’s going to fall completely flat for anyone who isn’t already familiar with this story.

Another example is just look at those Zack scenes. We’re shown a shot for shot recreation of the events leading up to Zack’s death as depicted in Crisis Core. And we’re shown this with again, no buildup. New players are going to be completely baffled at this random scene because they have no context. They don’t know who Zack is or why he’s important. Then at the end where you see him and past Cloud walk by current timeline Cloud and Aerith and its framed as a big emotional thing, it’s like...okay? It might hit hard for those of us that know Zack and his relationship to Cloud and Aerith, but to anyone else it’s just piling on more confusion while trying to pass it off as something emotional. It’s weak as hell.

I think the proof of my point is that I keep consistently seeing posts by newcomers who are like ‘I loved the game, but I didn’t understand anything in that ending at all’ and it’s like yeah, you wouldn’t, because that’s just how Square decided to make it for some bizarre reason. There’s adding mysteries and intrigue to a cliff-hanger, (End of Midgar in original does this really well imo) but then there’s bombarding the player with a hundred unanswered questions and expecting them to already know the answers.

#ff7

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buttsonthebeach · 4 years

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Lost Horizon, Pt. 1

@scharoux has done me the incredible honor of commissioning me AGAIN for a long fic and I am SO happy to be diving back into writing about Rhaella!!!

This picks up almost directly where The Last Game last left off - with Rhaella pregnant and alone in a world where Solas has removed the Veil, despite her attempts to stop him.

My Ko-Fi || My Commissions (Slots currently open as of 12/13/19! Still guaranteeing delivery by Christmas!)

Other pieces about Rhaella I have written include:

1. All Things Green and Growing

2. The Long Road Back

3. The Turning of the Year

3. The Same Kind of Scar (contains explicit content)

4. World Without End (contains explicit content)

5. The Last Game Pt. 1, the Last Game Pt. 2, and the Last Game Pt. 3 (contains explicit content), and the Last Game Pt. 4

Pairing: Rhaella Lavellan x Solas, post-Trespasser

Rating: Teen for violence, references to sex

Warning: Implied/referenced character death for two DA2 characters

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Rhaella Lavellan wondered how many hundreds of years she would have to live before it became normal to wake with the buzz of magic filling her ears, her lungs, her skin - with spirits drifting through walls, hovering near the ceiling - with the knowledge that she had failed to stop Solas from bringing down the Veil.

It had been a month so far, and every time she woke, the knowledge landed on her chest, something real and physical, something it always took her a minute or two to breathe past. The Veil is gone. Thousands are dead. I am here in the city that used to be Kirkwall, surrounded by elves loyal to Solas. I am carrying Solas’s child.

Sometimes, even after she breathed past it, even after she rose from her bed and went through the motions of getting dressed, of pretending to live a normal life, the knowledge returned, and sat beside her, something cold and huge and inescapable. It did that on this morning, when she sat with her midwife, trying to focus only on the words coming out of her mouth, about how her belly was measuring and whether or not the baby had dropped.

On this morning, the midwife kept slipping in and out of focus, because Rhaella was remembering the house she’d seen in what used to be Lowtown the other day, how everything was arranged within it as if someone still lived there - plates on the table, laundry on a line outside the front door, a child’s doll sitting down at a miniature wooden table with a miniature teacup arranged before it - except the exterior walls were gone. Blasted away entirely by some arcane force. The faded floral wallpaper was scorched with unreadable runes that still flared and glowed, and the icy grip of Terror had closed around Rhaella’s throat as she stood there, staring at it.

I failed these people.

��My lady?”

The midwife slid back into focus. Rhaella shook her head, to clear it, and to indicate her displeasure at the title.

“Rhaella. Just Rhaella.”

The midwife looked down briefly. “Rhaella. I just wanted to make sure you heard me. You are correct to say that you are measuring bigger than we would guess, given the rough date we are expecting your babe. But I haven’t seen anything else in my examination today that would tell us he is coming soon. He has not dropped, and you show no other signs of being ready for birth.”

He. Rhaella had needed something concrete to latch onto in this too-real, not-real-enough world. She had decided that she carried a son, had begun thinking about names. It gave her an anchor to return to when everything else seemed to be spinning out. When she couldn’t seem to do anything else but stare at her left hand, restored again, the palm unblemished by the mark that once let her close rifts. It felt like it was a lifetime ago. Like a story that happened to someone else.

“Rhaella?”

Focus.

“Yes, I’m sorry. I don’t have any other questions.”

“Do you think the father does? I know he wanted to be here today.”

The midwife hesitated around the word father. Rhaella had never once heard her speak Solas’s name. Then again, a lot of people seemed to be doing that. Talking about Solas without naming him, as if his name held some special power, as if he was not a man like any other, made of flesh and bone, whose skin had been warm when he came to her a month before, sitting on a cliff overlooking the sea, and took her face in his hands and told her how sorry he was that he had ripped her world apart.

She’d hated that his skin was warm, that he seemed afraid, that he was not triumphant. She’d wanted him to be a monster.

“I don’t know if he does,” Rhaella said. “If he does I’ll direct him to you.”

The midwife’s eyes slid to the floor, heavy with things unsaid. As heavy as Rhaella felt. Heavy with grief and child. She nodded, said her good-byes, and left.

When the door closed, Rhaella slumped back against the pillows of her bed and stared at the beautifully carved ceiling above her. It was more familiar than the crystal house where she’d first woken in Solas’s new world, the one she’d tried to return to several times before he insisted that she come and stay in the manor he’d chosen in Hightown as his base of operations. That, too, was familiar. Being in a base of operations. The flow of information, of goods, of agents, of soldiers, in and out of the grand house. It felt almost like Skyhold. Except Rhaella was not at the center of it now. Solas was.

Rhaella rose from the bed, dressed herself, trying to ignore the strangeness of having her left arm to help with that task once again, and went out of her room and down the hall to the grand foyer. The walls felt too close today. She needed to go out, even if that meant facing what the world had become.

She knew as she approached the foyer that he was there. She knew it from the buzz of voices, rising and falling like a tide, and from the deep well of magic she could feel in him at all times now. Rhaella paused on the staircase that curved down into the foyer and watched for a moment. Solas was standing there, in his armor, surrounded by maps that he kept suspended in the air, and agents speaking both Trade and Elvhen and the more Dalish-inflected version of the language - making decisions, remaking the world. Nodding at one agent and shaking his head at another, dispatching them both quickly, holding his hand out for a book that a spirit of Learning was handing him, flicking it open, reading something, and then handing it back. Abelas and Merrill were at his side. Two of his closest lieutenants.

Rhaella wondered how she ever let herself believe that she knew him. How any of them had ever fallen for the apostate act. He was more in his element here than she ever had been as Inquisitor.

Solas seemed to sense her then. He looked up, and their eyes met, and she saw his expression shift to something that was half hope, half fear. Something answered within her, something she did not have words for - a twisted, misshapen feeling that stopped her from breathing. She banished it, and descended the stairs.

“Rhaella,” Solas called, cutting through everyone else’s chatter. “How was -?”

“I’m going out,” she said, not turning, already steeling herself for the world beyond the manor doors.

The sunlight blinded her momentarily, but when that faded, she was not surprised to see that Abelas was at her side, having left behind his role as advisor for his role as guard. She’d given up fighting that particular battle two weeks ago. The truth was that Kirkwall was still a volatile place, even a month after the Veil came down.

Hasn’t changed a bit, Varric would probably say. Other than, you know, the spirits and magic and shit.

She had not heard anything of him. She hoped he was alive somewhere, plotting to take his city back. She couldn’t bear the thought of anything else.

Abelas did not even ask her where they were headed. The destination was almost always the same, anyway. Rhaella headed through the throngs of people - humans with dazed eyes, elves speaking urgently to one another, dwarves standing close to one another in protective, angry knots - down towards the Lowtown bazaar, where there was a field hospital that someone had set up, and which Solas now sent healers and supplies to.

Why can’t you be more of a monster? Rhaella thought again as she entered one of the tents and saw one of his agents taking inventory of the supplies, making notes of which to requisition. Rhaella herself took stock of the herbs and salves in their glass jars. There were new plants now, plants she was still learning the names and properties of. The ancestors of prophet’s laurel and elfroot and felandaris, vibrating now with the power of the Fade. Rhaella wondered how large they grew in the wild, considering how big the clippings Solas’s agents brought in were. Considering how the Fade made everything more itself.

Rhaella went to the bedside of a young elf with an arm in a sling. The colored card pinned to the end of his bed was orange, indicating he hadn’t been seen yet but needed to be seen soon - something they had done in the Inquisition’s many field hospitals. Solas remembered, of course. He had been pleased when Rhaella came up with the suggestion. The patient couldn’t have been older than fourteen. He sat up, bright-eyed, when she sat beside him.

“What happened here?” Rhaella asked, reaching out and touching his arm, letting a pulse of magic flow through it so she could begin to sense the damage. A small fracture and a sprain. She was a little less surprised now by how easily the magic came and went from her body - how it was no longer necessary to give a gentle tug to pull it through the Fade, how it no longer went in and out of her like a tide going in and out of a bay. It just was, like the air in her lungs.

“I got this learning how to use Force magic,” he said. “I sent out a shockwave and knocked myself off of the rooftop where I was standing.”

Rhaella could not help the smile that formed on her lips. Her own child stirred in her belly, drawn as always by her magic as Rhaella began to weave healing strands of energy into the boy’s arm, easing the swelling of the sprain and knitting together the fractured bone.

Are you going to be that daring, little one? She thought, trying to imagine the son in her belly at this age.

“I wasn’t a mage before - well - you know. Isn’t it amazing? I only wish the bastard of an innkeeper who never paid my mum enough to work in his dirty tavern was still alive so I could show him. No one can push me and my family around now. Thank the Maker for Fen’Harel.”

Rhaella wasn’t smiling now. Neither was the elf in the bed next to them, whose face was covered in bandages, only one red-rimmed eye and a thin set of lips visible, as well as the long pointed ears. They snorted derisively, a wet, wounded sound.

“Yes. Thank the Maker that half of Thedas is dead or ruined and every asshole in Kirkwall can set fire to every other asshole if they please. Thank the Maker that the world can’t last long like this.”

The boy’s smile faded, too. Rhaella wanted to chastise the other elf, even as she felt the truth of their words. The same truth that set heavy on her chest every morning.

“I’ve healed the fracture and done what I can to ease the sprain, but you’ll still need to wear the sling for at least three days to give your body time to finish the rest of the process,” Rhaella said. “And you need to be careful with Force magic. That’s an advanced place to start. Is anyone teaching you?”

The boy shook his head, and so Rhaella took a few minutes to explain some of the basics that she had learned from her own Keeper long ago, in that other lifetime. The drills that she and the clan’s other mages ran to refine their control over the various kinds of arcane energy, to ground themselves against the backlash of a spell gone wrong.

“There are several classes in Hightown at noon every day. One in the old Chantry square, and one in the old market - I think perhaps one near the Viscount’s Keep. They are informal, but they are a good place to learn,” she said when she was done. The boy nodded his assent vigorously, thanked her, and Rhaella felt a twinge of something that was hope or fear or both.

Rhaella went to the other elf now, the one covered in bandages. They had a green card pinned to their bed. A healer had seen them and done all they could for them. Still, Rhaella asked if there was anything she could do. Any pain she could ease. With her mind still attuned to healing, she could sense their injuries - burns. Mostly healed now, but they had been nasty.

“You’re working for him, aren’t you?” the elf said in reply.

Rhaella’s hands clenched instinctively.

“No. I’m doing this because I want to. Because I have to do - something.”

The elf was silent a long moment, and then nodded.

“I’m sure that’s why a lot of people are helping him. Everyone seems to think that things have changed for our people. But it’s all the same. We’re all just trying to survive, as usual. The only thing that’s different is that the people at the top look like us now.”

Rhaella’s flesh prickled. She thought of the maps she’d seen Solas studying, the words she’d caught him exchanging with the people around him. The names she’d heard. Dirthamen. Elgar’nan. Andruil.

However many adolescents praised the name of Fen’Harel in the same breath as the Maker, neither of them was necessarily at the top right now.

“Perhaps you’re right,” Rhaella said quietly. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the boy she’d treated practicing summoning an ice crystal in his hand. “But let’s let the young ones have their hope.”

“For as long as it lasts,” the other elf said.

Rhaella spent the rest of the morning working with other injured people - not all of them elves. It broke her heart to see the wariness of the humans and dwarves and even qunari she healed. She tried to give each of them an extra smile, even if there was a numbness in her heart that prevented her own gesture from warming her. The only time her smiles felt real was when she was alone, and she was smiling at the baby within her.

She dallied on her return to the manor, finding a vendor hawking skewered meat simmered in a spicy sauce rather than returning for the large meal that likely awaited her. She’d be hungry again later, anyway. She always had to drag herself back there, no matter how tired she was, no matter how much her feet ached, but today felt especially difficult. Her conversation with the first two elves she helped kept replaying in her mind, piece by piece, like snatches of half-heard song that would not leave her mind. One elf who revered Solas in the same breath as the Maker, and another who condemned him as no better than any other power that had ever ruled their people.

Did I really fail you both?

She almost wanted to turn to Abelas and ask him what he thought. He had been stoic and silent as ever at her side throughout the day, and the only times she’d spoken to him had been to ask him to fetch her salves and bandages while she was working with the injured. She felt guilty for that, now and then - treating him as if he did not exist. But she had made it perfectly clear that she did not want a guardian.

By the time they reached Hightown, and the courtyard of the former Chantry, the latest class for new mages was underway. Here, Rhaella could not deny the small surge of joy she felt to see the spirits of Learning and Command and Power circling around the learners. The chantry behind them still lay in ruins, but her people lived on, and they were learning to control the energy that swirled through everything in the world around them. They had persevered, against every force that had tried to stamp them out - against even the ravages of time, if Abelas was proof of anything.

And yet standing here in this courtyard, Rhaella could not help but think of Varric again. Of the people who had looked at her with fear in their eyes when all she wanted to do was help. Of the blasted-apart house in Lowtown, and the little doll sitting there at its little table, waiting for the return of a child who was never coming home.

Rhaella turned swiftly away from the new mages. She would not stay and help today. She went straight back to the manor, did not even take her leave of Abelas. She climbed the stairs to her room and lay back down on the bed and let the weight of it all descend once again.

She knew she slept at some point, but only because the sound of a knock at the door woke her, and once again she had that hazy moment of confusion about where and when she was.

“Vhenan?”

Solas’s quiet voice, the word that had always meant so much to her, only made it more confusing - the way it could both lift her heart and crush it. Rhaella did not answer him. She sat there in bed, waiting to see what would happen next. He never came in, no matter how long she ignored him. He had at least given her that space.

She heard a sigh, and thought he might turn to leave, but then he spoke again.

“I thought to invite you down to dinner. Only you and I. I wanted to hear about your day.”

Another silence. Rhaella imagined it - the two of them by candlelight, his hand on hers on top of the table, the eager warmth of his smile as he tried to make up for lost time, for deceit, for death. She still did not speak.

“The choice is yours,” he went on finally. “I will be in the sitting room closest to the kitchen. You can always ask to have your food sent up, of course.”

He lingered a few moments longer, and then she heard him turn and walk away, descending the nearby staircase once more. Rhaella didn’t think she’d ever heard a lonelier sound.

Rhaella woke the next day certain that she had to find a way to escape.

This was a thought that had come and gone over the last month since the Veil fell. It had been most intense right afterwards, but had then faded somewhat as she began to feel nervous of how close she might be to delivering her child. But now it had returned, like a high tide before a storm.

She had never tried to escape before, not really. Solas had never said she was a prisoner here. But she felt instinctively that if she started trying to walk out of Kirkwall, Abelas would stop her. She was certain that he would say it was for her own good, that he was protecting her from the forces that raged outside the city. She was certain that that was what Solas himself said. That once she had the baby, once he had managed to subdue the Evanuris, she would be free to go. That he only did this because he could not bear the thought of her coming to harm.

Solas had already seen her wield magic once since the Veil fall, on that first day that she found him and railed against what he had done. He knew she was more powerful now, as any mage was. She wondered why that did not factor into his considerations at all. She practiced a little on her own every day, feeling the deep well of her magic. Each spell was like dropping a pebble into dark water and listening for the sound of it striking the bottom - except that sound never came. Between that and the armor she’d had crafted for her pregnancy, which protected her child specifically, she felt certain she could survive on her own, whatever happened.

She wanted to get back to Skyhold. To the last place that had been home. To the people that had been relying on her to stop this all from happening. She needed to apologize. She needed to work to set things right, even if she had no idea where to begin.

The thought would not leave her that day as she walked out to a different field hospital, this one in Darktown. Her eyes lingered on the ships docked in the harbor, on the gates that led out of the city. She hoped Abelas didn’t notice. Then, feeling rebellious, she hoped he did. She might be a match for him now.

The clinic in Darktown was old. It had belonged to one of Hawke’s friends, if she remembered right. Anders. The one who blew up the Chantry. Another man who could never abide injustice, who felt he had to take matters into his own hands, who would accept collateral damage as a price for freedom. Hawke had loved him, or so the story went. Rhaella wondered where Hawke was, wished they could talk about it. What it was like to love men like that.

That portion of her day passed uneventfully. The same kinds of injuries and stories as they always were. She held an impromptu lesson for several elves who had been scraped up while practicing with one another, and her smile was genuine when she accepted their thanks. She could go and do this elsewhere, too, when she escaped. Piece by piece, she could begin to undo her failure.

Then they started on their way back to the manor, and Rhaella was faced with her failure writ large.

As they ascended a narrow stone staircase leading up to Hightown, Rhaella started to hear the dull roar of a crowd of people. No raised voices yet, but there was a restlessness to the sound, and a tension in the air, even more palpable now that magic flowed everywhere. Heavy as her belly was, and tired as she might be, Rhaella still found herself willing her body to go faster, towards the sound, to see what was the matter.

“Rhaella.” At least Abelas had agreed to her request that he call her by her given name. She ignored him anyway.

As she reached the top of the staircase and entered the courtyard, a terrible wailing sound began. The kind of keening that was born out of bottomless grief - a sound Rhaella herself had never made before, but recognized nonetheless. It echoed how she felt when her parents died. She saw the crowd of people now, most of them humans, with some other races mixed in too. They were standing at the foot of another staircase - the one that led towards the manor that Solas was using as his base of operations. A line of soldiers stood at the top of the staircase, preventing the crowd from ascending any further. She could not make out what they were saying to the men and women in the front row of the crowd, but their faces were stern and impassive.

“We will find another way around,” Abelas said, standing at her elbow, not quite touching her, but poised and tense, ready to protect her.

“I want to hear what they’re saying,” Rhaella replied, moving forward, already forming a thin, shimmering barrier around herself.

“I do not think -”

She did not stay to hear what Abelas thought.

This was her fault. She needed to hear what they were saying.

She approached the crowd from the side, trying to skirt around the edges and get to the top of the staircase so she could address them. It was not something she would have done as a younger woman, but after her time as Inquisitor - with how responsible she felt - she was very nearly standing outside of herself, separate from what was happening, only dimly aware that this was a rash idea -

She didn’t see where the first brick was thrown from, or the first piece of rotten fruit, or who cast the first spell. She was too deep in the midst of it by the time that happened. She could only react, strengthening her barrier, making it thick as stone around her belly, still trying to find ways to push through to get to the front, because she could fix this, she could, she could calm everyone, she could assure them that she was still on their side, still trying to find ways to help -

The crowd surged forward, all at once, like a wave on the shore, carrying Rhaella with them, and this was her chance, she would get to the front and she would turn and she would speak and she would atone for how she had failed to stop this -

Then Abelas was there, his Fade step so swift and seamless that it dizzied her. He stepped in, put his arm around her, stepped out, and they were clear of the crowd, on the other side of the soldiers now, hurrying towards the mansion.

“No!” Rhaella shouted, turning around in Abelas’s grasp, trying to head back, desperate to see what the soldiers were doing. Were they fighting those innocent people who only wanted justice for what had been done to their world? Or were they defending themselves? What had they been saying before all of this? She had to know, had to be able to do something -

Abelas was silent until they reached the mansion. Solas met them at their door, eyebrows furrowed, dressed not for battle but certainly for a public appearance, his clothes neat and tailored but not ostentatious. He was not a king, had no desire to rule Kirkwall, but he needed to project authority. She’d heard him discussing such things with his advisors. He seemed shocked to see them.

“Rhaella - were you in danger? I just heard -”

“I want to go back,” she interrupted at once. “I want to try and make peace.”

“Absolutely not,” Solas said, taking half a step forward. She forgot how very tall he was sometimes, how imposing he could be. “It is not safe. These riots are getting worse and worse.”

“Is it any wonder?” She was aware that she was shouting, that others were staring. Merrill was just behind Solas, her green eyes crinkled with concern. “You destroyed their world. They are not rioting - they are grieving.”

“I understand that,” Solas said, his voice rising in kind. “And I will approach the matter as such. But it is not your place -”

“It was not your place to -”

Another wave of sound broke against their ears - was the situation growing worse? Solas strode past her.

“She is not to leave this manor,” he said to Abelas. “Not until this is dealt with. And when I return, we have to discuss the other threats we face. There has been news from the Western Approach about Elgar’nan’s forces.”

Rhaella was so angry that she felt lit from within, like flames might burst forth if she opened her mouth. So angry it immobilized her just enough that everyone was able to sweep past her and shut the door, that Abelas was able to take her by the elbow once more and guide her towards her room. Like she was baggage, and nothing more.

“He wants what is best for you,” Abelas said quietly when they reached her room. “And for the child you bear.”

“Get out,” Rhaella said in reply, unable to look him in the eye.

The only other person she saw for the rest of the day was a serving woman who brought her something to eat for dinner. Rhaella made herself eat it, as she made herself eat everything they brought her, for the sake of the child if not for her own. She still felt angry enough that she might live on that anger alone. Solas had no right to command her. To decide what was best for her and for her child. This was a clear sign. She had to get away. That was what was best for the child.

You will not be born a prisoner, she thought to herself the rest of that evening, stroking her belly.

Solas came to her door later, when the light coming through her window was a rich blue, the color of a clear night. He knocked quietly, and called her name. She did not respond.

“I know you do not like this,” he said. “I do not like it either. I wish - I wish for many things. I wish -”

He broke off and was silent for a long moment. It was not like him to be at a loss for words.

“I have to leave the city tonight,” he went on at last. “Elgar’nan has woken truly and begun amassing forces south of here. I must head them off and destroy him before more of his power returns to him. I swear that I will return to you before the baby is born, Rhaella. I swear that I will keep both of you safe.”

I missed the part where I need you for that. She did not let the words slip free of her lips. She did not want to give him the satisfaction even of an argument.

Solas shifted on the other side of the door, and Rhaella heard the unmistakable creak of his armor. She could smell the oil he’d rubbed into it, too. A thick, metallic smell that made her think instantly of battle, death, and blood. A spike of fear hit her chest. These reports of the Evanuris still seemed like something out of a dream, if she was honest with herself. But if Solas was leaving in such a hurry, and in his armor, they were very real. And very dangerous.

What if he didn’t come back? What if she was truly alone in this new world - the world he had made?

She rose from the bed and went to the door, and stood there, her hand outstretched, not quite touching the doorknob, and then she hesitated. She hesitated long enough that Solas sighed quietly and turned away to go, speaking just once more, so quietly Rhaella almost doubted her hearing:

“Ar lath, ma vhenan.”

Then he was gone.

The blue of night deepened, and once it was nearly black, Rhaella dressed herself for leaving and crept out of her room. She was going back to Skyhold, and there was no one who would stop her. Not Abelas, and not the memory of Solas’s whispered words before he himself left. Not the people she’d been helping in the hospitals or in Hightown’s courtyards. There would be enough people to help everywhere. And she needed to get back to the people she’d abandoned, to the last place that had been her home.

She used every ounce of the skills she learned at her father’s side in the dappled woods of the Free Marches to move quietly through the manor. There were hardly any guards inside the building. She was not a prisoner. Not really. But she did not want anyone to try and stop her in any case. She had squirreled away some provisions over the last month, every time the mood to leave struck her, as well as enough gold to book passage on a ship bound for Jader. She just needed to make it to the -

“Where are you going?”

Merrill’s musical voice, even pitched low as it was, was unmistakable. It drew Rhaella up short right as she reached the back door of the manor, which would lead her to the courtyard where the wash and kitchen prep were done, and then out to her freedom. Rhaella’s stomach dropped as she turned to face the other Dalish woman. She did not know Merrill well - she had heard of her through Hawke and Varric of course, a hundred years ago, when she was Inquisitor - but she had been one of Solas’s closest advisors over the last month. Second only to Abelas. Surely she had orders to keep Rhaella here in Kirkwall.

“I’m getting away from here,” Rhaella said. “I’m going home. To Skyhold.”

Merrill looked at her steadily, green eyes betraying nothing. Then she nodded once, decisively.

“Very well, then. Let’s go. I know of a ship.”

Rhaella was so shocked by the turn of events that for the first few minutes after they left the manor, evading the guards on the perimeter who were there to keep people out, she did not even say anything to Merrill. It was only once they made their descent into Lowtown, when they were surrounded by people stumbling drunk out of taverns, that she felt safe doing so.

“Why are you helping me?”

Merrill’s face was grave. Varric and Hawke had only ever spoken of her as cheerful, bubbly, kind. It was hard to imagine that now.

“I spent my whole life in the service of the People. No, that’s not right. I spent my whole life in the service of what the People lost. The magic, and the knowledge. The glory of Arlathan. Not the People themselves. So I suppose I spent my whole life serving the Dread Wolf even before he ripped the sky apart. I thought I might as well keep doing it, seeing as how he had already won. But every day I stand here in this city and I think - I think that there had to be a different way. Just like there had to be a different way for me to fix my eluvian all those years ago. If I had been more patient, less prideful - if we both had -”

Merrill looked down at her feet. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and then looked up at the sky. It was different now. There were new stars in new patterns. But the old familiar ones were there, too, if you looked hard enough.

“There has to be another way,” she said. “And I want to come with you and find that other way.”

Rhaella’s throat was tight. She had not allowed herself to feel how very alone she had been this last month. Not until now, when she was no longer alone.

They stopped quickly at a tavern called the Hanged Man, where Merrill approached a couple of sailors and spoke quickly to them, and then they were on their way down to the docks. There was a ship there, finer than the rest, with no one guarding it, and no one on board.

“Good,” Merrill said as they boarded it and moved towards the captain’s cabin. “I’m happy to see the scum of Lowtown still have some respect for her, even now that she’s -”

They were in the cabin now, and there was a large feathered hat sitting in the middle of the bed. A pair of knives crossed above it. Rhaella had only to search her mind for a moment for the name.

“Isabela.”

Merrill nodded and took another deep breath, this one shuddering. “It’s all for the best, really. She would not have liked the world the way it is now. Too much gloom, not enough gold and giggles. She’d approve of us using her ship to get away from here. The men I spoke to in the Hanged Man were part of her crew that lived. They will help us sail the ship to Jader.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Merrill.”

Merrill smiled through her tears, reaching out to touch Rhaella’s shoulder.

“You tried to stop this. I know you did. That’s all that matters.”

As they pulled out of Kirkwall’s harbor, Rhaella realized how much she’d needed to hear that. She felt something loosening within her, like the unmooring of a ship. She was free for now. She and her baby both were. She would make the best of this new world. For the first time, it didn’t feel quite so much like a lie to believe the words.

#beach does commissions #beach writes #rhaella lavellan #scharoux #solavellan fic #dragon age fanfic

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kyouminaine · 4 years

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Frankly, this doesn’t even really belong on this blog, but it coincides with my decision to exclude any new plot from that reality into my portrayal. Yes, I’m talking about the Remake. Yes, I’m calling it a “reality.” Now before anyone starts hissing about me being a purist, I’m going to break down why I cannot and will not use material from the Remake (abbr. 7R) in my writing.

(Spoilers under the cut. Beware long post.)

And let me make this clear: 7R was a good game. It was not a good story.

What 7R did well was create a new system that combined SE’s past experiences from the KH series and previous FF games (I see a lot of influence from XIII). It provided a challenge --- whether good or bad is partly dependent on RNGesus favoring you or not --- and created an environment and interrelationship between characters that gave the gamer a chance to connect with the world and understand the repercussions of certain actions. It gave gamers a chance to develop feelings for certain characters that previously had no strong standing in the original. This was good. (I first played on Normal and got a decent challenge out of it during certain boss fights, particularly during endgame. Currently I’m running through Hard mode and utterly regretting my life choices, so the challenge is certainly there.)

As someone who played the original and delved into the rest of the Compilation over the years, it was enjoyable to see nods and easter eggs to those plotlines. A story I didn’t think would have any part in 7R somehow made its way in. People I thought would be skipped over were brought up. It was nice.

But here’s where it fell apart: all these nods and the expansion of the world (yes, we’re only experiencing Midgar, but I’ll still label it as a “world” since that is the extent that the gamers are exposed to) were haphazardly applied to the main plot, and not only that, when it came down to the endgame all those little nuggets ultimately didn’t mean anything.

Why? Because of the new plotline that was introduced. It’s been speculated and the general consensus is that 7R is a different reality. You can call it a sequel, AU, whatever. It’s a different plot altogether, particularly with how the ending unfolded. The Whispers / Watchers of Fate / Arbiters of Fate are what everyone has summed as being a physical manifestation of what fans expected to happen, or what the creators tried to preserve over the years through the many works that elaborated on the original VII storyline. Because the characters in 7R have destroyed the Whispers, this essentially has ripped apart the expectations that old (and new) fans had for the Remake series. We don’t know how many installments there are for 7R, but it’s pretty clear from the ending line that there’s going to be another part. (Hell, you still have to fight Sephiroth again... or something. Or maybe he becomes your ally. Who knows...)

Which makes a lot of mental gears grind, heads tilt, and plenty of frustrated fans raise their voices. The Deus Ex Machina concept is nothing new. A “do-over” plotline is not unique either. (Doubt me? Go look at all the fanfics that have been circling the internet since the day the original game came out.) Taking the original VII plotline and conjoining it with a “do-over” plotline is... well, it’s bad.

There are ways to make something like that work. Ways to rewrite history and attempt to make it right. There are people who speculate that 7R considers the original VII as the “bad ending” --- as if this is a dating sim and you picked the option where Lover C decides to murder you instead of marry you, so now you wipe your save file and change all of your choices so you get the happy ending with Lover C. The major plot events are the same, but now you’re alive and Lover C never goes apeshit on you.

I can understand the desire to get a “good ending.” This just isn’t the smartest way to go about it.

So with that in mind, we are now on that separate save file trying to make all the “right” choices. No one knows what will come of it, no one knows if it even is a “good” ending that awaits us. So what does that mean?

Quite plainly, it means everything we knew, every relationship that was built upon in the original, even all the work that was put into the other games and that particular reality, are all dumped in the trash. 7R is an AU scum save game file that tosses out the original values and lore that were taught to us and the characters too. In an ugly way of explaining it, 7R is spitting in the face of all the other pieces of the Compilation and what lessons came out of them.

These are lessons of the value of life, the value of relationships, the gravity of truth and the price of lies, struggling with flaws and shortcomings, change, love, and personal growth. These aren’t new or unfamiliar tropes, but their weight of worth still remains. (I won’t call VII to be the greatest game in existence, but it did create a strong connection with its audience through the story it told.)

What 7R does in face of these lessons is push them all aside for what is basically fanservice. Wish fulfillment. People who are dead in the original may/may not be alive in 7R. People who are alive in 7R are supposed to be dead in the original. 7R’s reality robs the audience of a chance to experience those values and struggles in a new yet familiar way. Fans who have no idea what happened in the original or only have a vague grasp of the plot will not have the same connection that old fans do. Yes, new fans can still understand that Aerith’s death was supposed to be a sad event. Yes, Sephiroth is a meteor summoning cockroach. (He has a bad habit of resurrecting.) However, they don’t have the firsthand experience. They did not personally go through the journey.

There are heavy hints of it in 7R, but the experience isn’t the same. And now considering that the Whispers are defeated, there probably isn’t even a reason to go through the original content anymore. Just open up a wikia and get the most basic summary, because what lays before us in the 7R series is uncharted territory.

The story of Cloud’s past and who Zack is will most likely still be introduced and explained, but how? Will it still hold the same meaning? Will fans be able to experience the same joy and pain, not knowing how big of an impact Zack had on the story particularly on Cloud’s, Aerith’s, and even Tifa’s lives? They made a whole game with him as the main protagonist; that was how big of an impact he made on those around him, and how much fans thought he deserved more screen time than what was given in the original VII.

Though the ending cutscenes of 7R implied that Zack may still be dead and his survival is probably in a completely different reality outside of both VII and 7R, the idea that it is possible for him to live takes away the meaning behind his death. It takes away how he made such an impact on those he met. Is it sad to always have him die? Certainly. But that’s the point. You, the gamer, and those in the game itself feel the weight of his presence and his loss. Him living diminishes it. Perhaps not completely, but it does stick a knife in the tapestry that wove together this important and surprisingly strong bond between even the most minor of characters.

The same can be said about Aerith’s death. I do enjoy that in 7R Cloud and Aerith got to interact and you could see more of how their personalities played off each other; I enjoyed Aerith’s portrayal in 7R. Yet, with the speculation of her possibly surviving and maybe being omnipotent (or dimension hopping, take your pick), we don’t see how strong of an impact she made on those around her. We don’t see how her death changed the cast, became a driving point of their mission. Particularly for Cloud, she became a pivotal part of his growth. Regardless if you consider their relationship to be friendship or love, it’s undeniable that she made a strong impression and her death hit Cloud like a sack of bricks to the face. The value of her life was so great in his heart, she became one of the major reasons he was so hell bent on fighting Sephiroth. She wasn’t the only reason, but she certainly was fighting to be at the top of the list. Even in the sequels that followed, she was always on their minds. She taught a priceless lesson that still sticks with gamers today. People still weep over her death.

So let me bring it up again: 7R spits at VII. Not just in the lessons it brought, but the lore as well. The introduction of Whispers, Aerith’s unexplained new powers, Sephiroth’s early appearance and his ability to cut through the veil of reality... It all brings about the question of Gaia and how she works as both a habitable place and sentient entity. Gaia had WEAPON --- colossal creatures that were meant to safeguard the planet. When Gaia perceives herself to be in danger, she brings out the giant no-no stick. (This is mainly in response to the threat of Jenova, but it is plausible that WEAPON will tear apart every major threat and hit the big reset button on everything. Otherwise, why did Ultimate attack Mideel? There’s no Jenova there, unless you count Cloud. But that’s a different topic for a different day.)

There is speculation that the Whispers that meld into the Harbinger of Fate / Whisper Harbinger is another WEAPON. This is a theory to take with a fat grain of salt, but the point is this: what did the Whispers uphold, and how does that alter the rest of the lore of the game? Do we consider the Whispers to be beings completely exempt from the rest of the lore? Are they some kind of god? Are they related or unrelated to WEAPON, and do they have their own agenda or do they also work to safeguard Gaia? No one knows, and there are a bunch of videos that try to tackle these questions.

I don’t have the answer. What I do have is a major side-eye at the whole concept of the Whispers existing and how they interact across the different realities, and how in turn they alter the overall lore of VII. Vague telling of the main plot points from the original are present, yet there is a giant question mark as to how much of said plot points will remain present in future game(s). Is there even a need for WEAPON anymore? Is Aerith not the last living Ancient/Cetra? Is Sephiroth blood kin to her? (Anyone remember that old concept?)

What about Holy? The lifestream? Hell, you can create summon materia now, not find godly creatures slumbering inside giant marbles scattered throughout the planet. Can Meteor be created too, or is it still hidden in the Temple of the Ancients and deemed too dangerous and the magic too great for anyone to handle? Do I even want to touch the subjects of Project G and Deepground??

That’s too many questions that don’t need to exist in the first place. What 7R created was a large stew of wtfery. I don’t just say this out of saltiness, it really is a giant “wtf” where almost every fan doesn’t even know where to start when they try to deeply analyze what happened in the game.

Personally, I believe the “do-over” plot that was introduced in 7R was a mistake. Not only did it mess with the lore of the world and open up a rotten can of worms that no one knows how to decipher, it took away from the value of certain actions from different characters, whether main cast or secondary. (I feel cheated. Tifa’s tears were practically wasted because Biggs is apparently alive, Jessie is probably just comatose somewhere, and Wedge probably survived too despite being tossed out a skyscraper.)

What I expected, and I believe what many frustrated fans expected, was not a “do-over” plotline/reality but a retelling of the same familiar story we have come to love over the last few decades. Whether some fans picked it up as soon as it was first published on 3 discs, or played it later down the line on PC, or even waited until it got ported to PS4, we came to enjoy that original plot. The original reality that has been told and retold, and adored even across different games with cameo appearances from the main cast. Flesh out the world, make it bigger, make it grander, show me Cloud in a fugly purple dress and Tifa in a miniskirt, show me Sephiroth’s Vidal Sassoon flowing silver locks, show me Jenova’s eye nipple... but keep the rest the same. By all means incorporate plotline from the other installments of the Compilation --- tell me more about the Turks, the original/main faction of AVALANCHE, Rufus and his relationship with his dad, other perverted projects Shinra had hiding under its mako skirt, the full story behind the failed rocket launch, the Wutai war, Nanaki’s youth, Zack’s early years in Shinra/SOLDIER, all that --- but don’t suddenly throw all that work, all those relationships and stories, all those valuable lessons out the window.

7R had plenty of potential and even if I take away the “purist” expectations I wanted from it, the game still managed to be disappointing.

Coming back to the topic of why I won’t use 7R in my portrayal, it is because of all this. Because it takes away too much from VII and warps it into something it shouldn’t be. My idea of Cloud sits strongly with the Compilation (namely the original game with some minor inspiration from the other materials). His hardships, his pain, his personal growth... I will hold onto those because they make Cloud who he is at the end of the game. They are why Cloud leaves such an impression on people. Yes, recent adjustments to his features have really ramped up how handsome he is (especially in 7R, though I’m salty about his hair being wrong) and that sticks with people. Everyone swoons over how he looks in that crisp HD. It’s his journey that is more worthy of noting though.

I expect that there will be people who are not/less bothered by these details. There are plenty of people who embrace 7R and what it introduces --- I’ve heard people say they’re tired of the same old formula and a “do-over” plot is fresh and exciting for them --- but I’ll stick to what I’ve come to learn to love throughout my life. Because there are plenty of people who favor 7R, the door is open for people to head that way. This isn’t me kicking anyone out. This is me firmly establishing where I stand and why.

TL;DR --- 7R is a high dollar AU fanfic and I don’t appreciate that. (But I’ll still snag icons and reblog gifsets of the cutscenes because I’m opportunistic that way.)

#{ 1 phoenix down } | ooc #salty rambling

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