#I mean I know he's the Convenient Plot Device Man but still

[sunwarmed-ash]

WIP Wednesday

(yeah yeah I know its thursday but you're getting it now internet)

tagged by @eevylynn 😍😍

from the slow going Spiderverse fic Separation Anxiety

Deadpool and VE are sitting on the rooftop of another potential rendezvous point when the text alert comes in. “Oh shit,” Wade sighs, his eyes still haven't left his phone. “Buck is dead.”  “Who?” “He's another merc. Big guy with a tiny brain but an even bigger heart.” “Shit," Eddie exhales, "I'm sorry to hear that, if you need time to,-” “No, what I’m saying is, we have an emergency alert system when one of us goes down. Not strictly legal biotech, but it does make for one hell of a convenient plot device.”  “Okay, so-” Eddie says, scratching at his ear, still trying to keep up.  “I’m saying,” Wade continues, “I think that's where our boy is. I think Osborn’s luring us.” “Why would he do that?” “Well I don't think he’s doing it out of the kindness of his heart.” “Meaning,” Eddie sighs, “Pete's either dead, or pretty damn close. Fuck.” “Yeah,” Wade says, tight lipped with his own disapproval.  And if today couldn't get any stranger, an orange and red, octagonal shaped, portal? opens up beside the three of them, right in the middle of the sky, and some random, middle aged brunette with the brightest blue eyes Eddie’s ever seen drops out and waves to them like they are old friends.  “Uh, who are you?” Eddie asks at the same time Venom appears beside him and growls threateningly.  “Stay right where you are,” V orders and the man's hands go up.  Eddie can feel something equal parts wrong and familiar about the man, but V won't let him in on the secret. Luckily the new man is talking again.  “I’m Peter Parker, from, a different universe. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to drop by unannounced but uh, I think you guys need me. Or more accurately, something I have.” Eddie's face is shocked while Wade tosses his hands up in exasperation.  “Oh Jesus Christ Ash! Can we cool it with the crossovers? Who do you think you are, Disney?” The blue eyed Peter looks around to try and find the person Deadpool made the comment to but there isn't anyone else here. They are on top of a Wells Fargo building. “Who is he talking to?” Peter 2 asks VE at the same time the symboited pair says,  “Don’t ask.”

[demonslayedher]

Things that went through my head while watching this episode:

--For as many times as Tanjiro thought "this person," I was watching for him to verbalize it. I was almost starting to think Tamayo had read his mind for how long it took her to step in while Tanjiro got himself into a serious pickle, but it was really was almost the instant he verbalized "person" that she took action. It was as though she was waiting for it.

--Which is fair, seeing as for all she could tell he was just another Corp member trying to get a kill (understandable, but still).

--She had to have felt something stir in her gut when Tanjiro screamed bloody murder at Muzan, though. In this way, Tanjiro is slightly more of an equal to her than Yushiro, at least in terms of how their lives were so personally wrecked by that man. On my first watching I had found it overly convenient how quickly Tanjiro gained an ally in her, but knowing what I do now about her past, as well as her trust in Yoriichi, it makes total sense that she'd take a chance on Tanjiro--especially if she needs someone to go out and collect demon blood samples in the first place.

--Pretty Blood Technique is pretty.

--Muzan comes off as a one-note villainy villain, but you know what? That's a note he plays really loud. We already got the core of Muzan in that "you look sickly" reaction. That's really all there is to this man. BUT HE'S HAD OVER A THOUSAND YEARS TO GET REALLY, REALLY GOOD AT PLAYING THIS NOTE.

--And Muzan showing how his blatant disregard for others' lives in showier and showier ways? Forget dramatic plot device, that really is just Muzan's style to not give a fuck.

--Tanjiro having to make right by the udon vendor, because of course he does.

--Seeing as I usually reference the manga, I had totally forgotten how boyish Yushiro sounds. I think this is part of what gave me the initial impression that his feelings for Tamayo are just puppy love. Yushiro does have very serious depth to his feelings to be willing to carry out her will even if it means accepting her impending death, but unfortunately for him, I have never read Tamayo as having romantic feelings for him, or seeing him as anything more than a child. That's why I was pretty shook when I saw the inside cover of volume 21, in which the pose of photo studio like pose of changes to something more tender and intimate with Yushiro gently kissing her head. First, would Yushiro ever be so brazen!? If she were likely to accept it, he would, but he knows it'll never happen because she can't forget her former family life. And that's really sad and makes me hurt for Yushiro, this was doomed to be one-sided all along and I don't know how I feel about a romance between her future incarnation and his demon self. I hope he finds more to do to enjoy the life she granted him than just obsessing over her memory.

--Also, even though in my memory Yushiro feels more adult than Tanjiro, going back to this I see them both as immature children when they are put in a room together.

--Okay, the "I didn't hit him, Tamayo-sama. I threw him" line is funny and all, but it feels so, so, so much funnier to me in Japanese for how close the words for "hit" (naguru) and "throw" (nageru) sound to each other: "Nageta no desu, Tamayo-sama. Naguttemasen."

--This was the episode which floored me with Nezuko antics. How?? Can she dare??? Be this cute??????

--So Nezuko seems in her own world for most of this scene, right? Look at her face down in the corner after one of the times Yushiro beats up Tanjiro. SHE DID NOT LIKE THAT. ----I had to go back and watch this again. There's really no naturally way Nezuko would had been able to just notice and give that look based on how she was positioned in previous frames. She would have had to roll over and bend in tightly to give Yushiro that look from that angle. This wasn't in the manga, somebody at Ufotable had to have said, "hey, wouldn't it be funny if--" and then they had to find a way to squeeze it in.

--I initially thought I was going to sketch something dramatic like Yushiro protecting Tamayo at the end of the episode (and her accepting his protection for the close bond they do indeed share), but the emotional heart of this episode really is Tanjiro and Nezuko being invited these demons' home, and feeling completely at home there.

--That Tamayo smile got me blushing as mad as Tanjiro, she's so pretty. Please, let your voice wash over me, Sakamoto Maaya-sama.

--Aw, the Yahaba & Susamaru scene kind of left out that Yahaba is a neat freak... I do like the mild detail of how his eyeballs don't touch the ground, they do hover about it for the sake of plainly seeing. Also, his Blood Technique is among some of the most unique in this whole series. Even if there are other characters with tracking mechanisms in their attacks, Yahaba's really were multifaceted, like seeing arrows in footsteps. In some ways, his Blood Technique sort of steps outside the slow of time, showing both progressions which happened in the past and progressions which have not yet taken place.

--And then we've got their simple personalities, "let's be cruel, like the baddies we are, yyyyyyyyeah"

--I didn't draw it, but I love the composition in the final scene in how Tanjiro and Yushiro mirror each other by covering their respective most important lady (but let's be fair, Tanjiro, you need that coverage more than Nezuko does).

--TAISHO SECRET!! YUSHIRO'S DIARY!! Tanjiro is left with so many regrets. Here's a Taisho Secret for you!! The diary entry read was from my birthday!

[cladestruction]

PART III of my super long aotd thoughts (and prayers) commentary/analysis extravanganza🤪

warning: spoilers. repetition of words/expressions hehe. badly written (english is not my first language lol). looong text. curse words. biased opinions because this is my blog and i get to do with it as i please.

previously: part I | part II

so long, gay Dick: ok i’m sorry. yes, this was so painful i couldn’t process it properly until the fifth time i watched the scene. it’s so sudden and so… mystical? but like, in a vague way? i like that it’s established how compromised Dick is with this whole prophecy and church thing. it’s surprising (to me, at least) to see him react so quickly to protect the band. makes me wonder if he knew, since the very beginning of this spiritual-guidance-thing that he would have to protect the band with his own life at some point. the thought makes me very sad. and it doesn’t help that as soon as the shield is up, the scene goes kinda quiet. we see the boys getting confused about just everything that happened in the span of seconds, and Nathan running to punch at the shield, desperately trying to reach Knubbler. they were close, all of them, after all. and when they see he has no shield yet still walks calmly in front of them, covering them, as he waits for the unstoppable to happen, it’s sad. i have to say too that it broke my heart that he wasn’t smiling at them either. a lot of death scenes like this make the character accept their death in peace, smiling at the protagonist(s) in a reassuring way. it’s the typical don’t worry, it’s not your fault. goodbye kinda scene. but Dick doesn’t do that. and it makes sense and i like that it’s made that way but ugh, it’s still painful. he looks at them one last time. i’m not sure if he is aware this is what was bound to happen and the boys still have a chance at defeating Salacia, or if in his mind the last thing he sees is just: the guys who failed at saving the world. so he’s just there. standing, helpless, yet serious. i wonder if he was pissed off at them or something lmao. maybe he wanted to be by their side a little longer but couldn’t because they failed to follow orders. maybe he wished to be their producer for one album more, but knew this was his place in the prophecy and saying goodbye was proving to be a bit harder than he expected. who knows. i found it very curious how they didn’t actually show him die either. it’s implied, of course, but for a show that’s never afraid to show blood and organs and melting skin it’s weird that he just: vanishes. i’m not sure if they were trying to make his death something special and different, something that wouldn’t fall in the category of other gore deaths, but i also feel like that left it too vague. i mean, to all Knubbler fans out there, my heart goes out to you but psst, maybe we can collectively agree that he can be alive somehow, somewhere. anything is possible, stay strong.

running away and aftermath: you know by now i am a big fan of Nathan and Pickles, so i’m having a blast. that scene of Nathan with his fists up against the shield and the fire covering the room on the other side is very cool. he looks weak, even being a big muscular man as he is. makes me think how many times he’s felt helpless in his life, as he most certainly could always punch his problems away and deal with stuff using his fame and power. it’s cool to see him fail, i like that he is being pushed to a place where he’s just: a guy. a lost and confused guy. and of course Pickles is the one to go to him and get everyone on the run. i like that he goes for the notebook too. it’s very convenient because we can tell it’ll be a plot device in some future scene, but it’s still on character for Pickles to pick it up. he is still on his “gotta be a good friend” mindset and that involves looking out for Nathan and the stuff he forgets/doesn’t see. he is shown even in the show to be very good at looking out for everyone and is very resourceful even in extreme situations. i think back to rehabklok, when he is trapped in a room and panicking because the guys are in trouble. despite all that, he still manages to get out and go save them. it’s cool, i love him, let’s move on. i like the little scene of the mushrooms growing, idk. they are even on the album cover too, i like it very much. i like that we get to see survivors too, props to them for being stronger and braver than the marines because holy shit everything is destroyed. Toki is carrying Skwisgaar and i’m a fan. they are walking, i don’t know where or why but hell yeah i’d follow them anywhere.

cave sceneee: OK YES i’ll say this immediately i LOVE the thing they did with Skwisgaar: the trance, his guitar and the repeating DEADFACE notes. i love how the tuner is brought back and this time it goes from Toki to Skwisgaar. it’s a very simple payback but you know i was kicking my feet at it. also, the guitar is important to Skwis for obvious reasons but it’s established to be for emotional support too, as shown to be practically his coping mechanism. i could make an essay about Skwisgaar, his guitar, his trauma and his skill and how all those things coexist and codepend, but that’d be for another occasion. the PICKLES ASTHMA ATTACK and Nathan telling him to pull it together? yeah i like that shit too, what can i say. i have asthma too so REPRESENTATION !!! and idk, i guess i love to see Pickles freak out because it always feels very real. he is a chill guy and all but my man has a lot of triggers, and of course he does, his childhood was fucked up and he supposedly has many trust and abandonment issues yet to solve. that and the world-ending atmosphere HAD to trigger a crisis in him, so i’m glad they showed it, even if it’s such a short little scene of him in the background trying to catch his breath. it’s a bit sad for me to realize that just now they are wondering about Murderface. Pickles apparently had him in his radar too when it all went to shit, but he didn’t run after him. it makes sense, of course, it was too dangerous, but it’s still sad they just: left him go on his own. now Crozier !!! it’s kinda embarrassing to say but i immediately trusted him the first time i saw this scene. he could’ve easily betrayed them and just: lie. but i trusted him and so did the boys and i’m glad they did. (tmi: that shot of Nathan’s sideprofile, and his arm when he grabs Crozier’s neck made me GASP. anyway) it’s cool when he inspected Skwisgaar, idk why i liked that. it was a second-long scene but it made sense lmao. the man’s a military guy, he is the only one prepared enough to say “yup, this is just shock from the explosion. we just have to wait” and even tho it’s kind of unnecessary, it was what made the others trust him a bit more and that’s great foundation for the future scene. i love to see Nathan connect the dots. when he says “Salacia!” as Crozier explains everything, i smiled so proudly. Nathan IS very smart, everyone else needs to just SHUT UP and let my boy use his braincells. it was sad when Crozier pretty much admitted that he was so sick of Salacia preying on him that the very small hint of freedom he got he jumped to what he thought would be his death. as if he were so desperate that death would be the only way out. that’s always a sad thought for me. i’m glad he didn’t die tho, and i’m glad here they planted the basis of the importance of the water to both exorcise AND defeat Salacia (again, because it was hinted already, more than once during the show. but it’s nice they repeated it here to refresh everyone’s memories).

DEADFACE: UGH THIS SCENE OMG THIS SCENE !!! i am shaking now just by writing about it lmao. when they discover he is the traitor is GREAT. they are always quick to shit-talk him but here they are just: surprised AND hurt. and then Skwisgaar opens his eyes ??? and deasface starts playing ??? i SCREAMED, i CRIED, i THREW UP. when i watched this the first time i was so scared it would be another Nathan Explosion solo adventure or something, so i was beaming with joy when the rest of the boy showed up to corner Murderface. great visuals, and it’s such a good addition to have Crozier’s voiceover on the background. when he says “your friend is innocent” i choked up, i’m not kidding. i like how the explosions don’t stop Nathan from searching for Murderface, it’s cute. and when he found him, and Murderface looks like this little feral creature UGH, good shit. the fact that Nathan says nothing, and just holds out his hand is so so cute i could’ve puked my heart out. they both look so confused. Nathan doesn’t know how to get to him, how to help him, maybe he doesn’t even expect Murderface to take his hand, but he still hold it out. and Murderface, he looks so lost and scared. Crozier says Salacia is still inside him but this looks more like: just Murderface. a very sad and sorry Murderface, terrified of what he just did. 

Exorcism: i like how the guys are struggling just a bit to hold Murderface, but seemingly more because of how fucked up it is what they are about to do than because Murderface is capable of overpowering his 4 bandmates. i LOVE how they are all holding a different limb and how ready they are to cooperate and do this correctly. Nathan, of course, directs them but they are all participating and they are perfectly coordinated. this might be the most important thing they have to do as a group so i absolutely love how they were shown to be both determined and horrified to drown their friend in order to save him, of course. everyone looks so scared, Pickles and Skwisgaar are even holding their eyes shut. it’s such an important scene and those shots of Murderface’s hand reaching out for Nathan, his friend, is HEARTBREAKING. when everything stops, i like that Nathan looks at the others, as if he was making sure they were still okay, because he knows this was difficult for all of them. the visuals of Salacia getting out of Murderface are very cool. as soon as the phantom goes away, Nathan is quick to go directly to Murderface and is determined to bring him back. he is shown serious and strong but also desperate, as everyone else watches in anticipation. there’s absolutely no dialogue, and oh god the soundtrack in this particular scenes is too good. Nathan dismisses Pickles when he reaches out but it’s not rude as other times the frontman has done that. it’s understandable even. Nathan just lost Knubbler some time ago, maybe he feels like if he could’ve reached him he would be still alive or something, maybe he blames himself for not doing more, so of course he is deadset on doing all he can to reanimate Murderface. we can even think back to religionklok and how horrible Nathan felt when he almost got Murderface killed, or how in doomstar requiem he made a promise to Murderface to save him too if he ever got in trouble. and yipee, saving Murderface he does.

“come back and suck” he says: it’s jarring to see the bassist immediately want to run away as soon as he wakes up, because it shows his mind must’ve been hell this entire time. when he brings back Magnus i almost cried. i’ll go ahead and say it: i’m not a Magnus fan. i do appreciate him as a character and the drama/conflict he brought to the show, i also respect him because of all the history he must have had with dethklok. but i never thought of him with much love or care (what he did to Toki was terrible and i actually hate him for that lmao) so i was surprised to see how important it was for me that the band remembered him in this scene. a band is a family, and Magnus was a part of it, so everything that happened is just sad. when Nathan says “Magnus never gave us a chance to forgive him” i got choked up thinking they could’ve all reconciled and gotten along and maybe even become a 6-member band (?) IF Magnus didn’t get fixed on playing victim and not asking for forgiveness. it’s made clear none of the boys wanted him to die, and the fact that Magnus is one of the faces that haunts Nathan since dsr makes it even more meaningful for them to let Murderface know how important forgiveness is, and how important it is that Murderface stays with them. not for the music, not for the prophecy, but for the friendship. i don’t agree with the reasoning of “sucking is important”, it’s weird. in the show it’s said that Murderface brings hate and brutality to the songs, they also say he is very good to point out things that suck so he helps the band stay centered if something does indeed suck. but idk, in my head i’ll take it more as a code word for friendship or staying, as when Toki says “suck the life of every waking moment with us” is just another way of saying please man, stay and let’s be friends forever. the exchange of “you can never hear the bass, but you can always feel it” made me cry. THAT was my breaking point. we were robbed of a band hug but guess i’ll have to draw it myself or whatever.

[zizz-asdf-re-r-o-u]

Leviathan Chronicles- reaction part 2?

So I wrote these things WAAAAY back last year when i listened to Leviathan chronicles for the first time. Here are my live reactions.

Spoilers ahoy!

wow it continues to date itself. "wow! we are the first podcast to feature a kungfu scene!" "after i finish this podcast, i can become a real writer!" oh how times have improved. one of the characters "the beijing olympics happened a few months ago" "if you want, we can give you CDs at our comic con booth!"

yo it had some CREATIVE solutions to chase scenes that i dont think i've seen in recent podcasts. ugh its annoyingly straight

ooh gregor vs rebecca tracking ok im sorry, but i think macallan's crew should head back to leviathan and maybe have anton radio seinshen to figure out what he's doing since gregor know whats going on. ooh tulley is going back to nyc. and macallan's crew is (ill advisedly) going back to Nyc too. hendersen: you in bed with seinshen. ok seinshen bi confirmed? 8D LOL, one of seinshen's aliases is "kristoff laputka" as in the creator's name? xD LOL there's another member that uses alias nobi nakisomething, whose the other co-creator xD seinshen has authentic letters from charlie dickens... which means that dickens is one of the immortals, possibly allied with the rebels. damn toshi is totally different than how tanaka perceives him. also his english doesnt have an awkward japanese accent. WAIT TOSHI HAS BLACK DOOR TRAINING WHAT. HE'S FUCKIN 6 YEARS OLD WHAT? ok that was clever, but why couldnt they have used one of the adults? why is seinshen explaining all of  his secrets to whit & jason (and toshi)? how is this steam elevator operating normally? oh shit 0.0 also there is so much janky gerryrigging in this story LOL aww poor tulley :( if only you hadnt gotten caught up with yakuza or macallan. lol, what a coincidence that the police just happened to be announcing the exact breakin you needed to know. how'd the aliens wind up in africa if the portal was between tibet & leviathan? how the FUCK is jason swinging around the tracking device? why does toshi want to protect jason? i love how this is set in multiple urban cities and unlike other blockbuster movies, the characters attempt to avoid property damage. except for that one scene in india :( why is jason's blood black? WAIT WHAT THE HECK HOW DID MACALLAN CATCH UP SO QUICK BEFORE TULLEY. THEY WERE IN HAWAII. Poor Tulley. im on team Tulley cuz he's mostly innocent. ahh macallan are you still team seinshen? i hope anton is still faithful to seinshen :( "hold onto your hula skirts" lmfao. omg toshi doesnt want to go back to his dad. poor oberlin. lmfao, tulley conveniently sees both helicopters xD and lol clever plan to steal the taxi xDDD damn the driver got those hot dogs fast. lmfao tulley has some serious plot armor & convenience. man and i was just saying this show doesnt commit urban city property damage... i take it back after this helicopter chase scene. ooh this reunion will be fun bc everyone is on opposite sides. oh no i hope rebecca will be faithful to seinshen so that he can stay alive. OH NO GREGOR. OH NO TULLEY. OH NO ANJALI. NOO ANJALI. dammit! yay macallan found the star stone inside the frickin tracker. damn this whole time there was a star stone & seinshen's group had no idea LOL. some tracker you are rebecca. ooh tulley coincidentally show up now! oh wait jason didnt make it to alex's submarine? and wait toshi didnt leave either? PLEASE DONT SHOOT TOSHI! fuck jason and yay tulley! OMGOMGOMG ok tulley pick up toshi pick up toshi.OMGOMG SO MUCH ACTION IS HAPPENING. OH NO ANTON AND SEINSHEN? i wonder if they realized that toshi & jason were still on the ground? shoot. LOL harlequin spent this entire time in a las vegas. but i think he deserves it, hes not focused on either side of the war after all.

[self-loathing-angel-of-thursday2]

Beautiful Spouse’s Rewatch Thoughts SPN 07x03 The Girl Next Door

“Jesus Christ. The name of the episode” “We don’t see his ass all season, do we?” “It was kinda unceremonious. Cas walks into a lake and is gone” “Is this the season where we works with Death all the time?” “No more angels to fix you. Bitch” “Ouch” “Is this the first time he’s like hurt-hurt?” “I don’t get it” “Who’s calling who? Was it a floor person who is also a leviathan?” “Aren’t they leviathans? Can’t they do whatever they want?” “I guess I don’t know that much about them yet” “What the hell” then laughter

“Uh huh. Fkn asshole” “We’re all men here. We can lie to each other. It’s fine” “Oh yeah he’s still got a cast on” “I don’t think I’ve ever broken a bone. You neither? Interesting” “Is this the leviathan army tracking them down?” “Because it’s a plot device” “That’s a shit ass question” “for now” “In your hand, brah” “I mean, it’s not remotely similar” “I want cake now. No, wait, I want pie. Never mind. I’ll take what I can get” “uh huh” “best cover the cake. You’re in some shit-ass cabin; the ants will get it” “even the drug dealer is scared, man” “that was rather juicy” “Back in a few days?” “He’s gassing the butthole” “Isn’t it a few days early for his cast?” “Who the fuck is Lars Ulrich?” “Is he working an old case or something?” “At least this one doesn’t take it in the butthole. At least, I don’t think so, not that it matters where you take it, of course. I just don’t prefer my gas in the butthole” “That’s a suspiciously shitty looking SUV, Sam. You might want to take a look” “You just don’t be lame when you talk to girls” “Lame” 🎶The convenient stores of SuperAmerica.🎶 Like Sam and Amy! SA! Get it?” “Oh it’s her” “I don’t remember her name, but she’s from that one space show. I’m sure she’s done a lot of shows, but that’s what I remember her from” “Oh is she monster-ified? Or her mom? Or something? I think we’ll learn that soon” “Oh yeah monster-ified.” laughter

🎶Fuck John Winchester🎶

Laughter

“Fucking killed your own mother. Jesus Christ” “He just keeps fucking up his whole life” “That was a different engine sound. Pretty certain anyway” “Doesn’t he kill her ass? I think I remember that��� “Doesn’t the kid get out somehow?” “Knife time” That would be really hot

“I mean that animation is really showing its age. Holy shit”

[bmsatc]

Recommended: Jet Boy

Jet Boy (2001)

Directed by: Dave Schultz

Starring: Brandon Nadon, Dylan Walsh

A little gem of an indie film, I first watched this movie back in 2008, through Netflix’s DVD rentals (yeah, back when Netflix still sent you DVDs in the mail).

This story is heart touching, heart breaking, and I have nothing but good things to say about the two main characters, Nathan and Boon. 

The movie starts off with a gut punch: we see an obviously underage Nathan laying in bed, with a much older man moving around behind him. The man asks Nathan for a hug, which Nathan agrees to, and then the man pays him, and Nathan leaves.

From there, it just keeps building. We quickly find out Nathan’s mother is a drug addict, who rarely knows what’s actually going on, and our story really starts with her death. While the police are trying to figure out what to do with Nathan -who has no other family -Nathan slinks out of the precinct, and ends up in the car with Boon, our second protagonist.

While there are some general flaws with this film, as an overall, I highly recommend it. Brandon Nadon’s acting is phenomenal, and the scene where he tries to convince Boon to keep him around is legitimately heart-breaking.

Outside of Nadon and Walsh, the other actors are fairly weak, and deliver rather lackluster performances. However, they’re not really ‘characters’ so much as convenient plot devices for us to learn more about Nathan and Boon, and their interactions.

The filming itself is very well done, although the quality is a bit rough; if you’re old as shit like me, it’s basically 90′s b-rated horror movie quality.

The dialogue is -as a generality -very well done, and the few weak points weren’t enough to really make or break for me.

WARNINGS

This film deals heavily with child prostitution, child neglect, and implied child sexual abuse. And by ‘deals heavily with’, I mean the entire film focuses around these points.

[crimeronan]

Ok so I’m into the dreamer trilogy and haven’t read the Raven cycle...what is Declan’s characterisation/journey there?

THIS MIGHT BE THE BEST ASK I’VE EVER RECEIVED. IMAGINE I’M STANDING WITH MY ARMS SPREAD USING DIFFERENT VOICES AND HAND GESTURES TO REENACT THIS STORY FOR A RESENTFUL CAPTIVE AUDIENCE

also declan’s TRC storyline is like. equal parts horribly fucking sad and unbelievably fucking hilarious so. i will try to strike a Balance

FIRST OFF.  there is exactly one (1) declan POV chapter in the entire series. it happens toward the end of the last book. up until then, everything we know about him comes from the observations and narration of others.

he is also a very minor character.  his importance grows throughout the series, but almost all of his actions happen offscreen.  it’s not until the last book that we know exactly how much he’s been dealing with the whole time.

when he’s introduced in the first book, he appears as a plot device.  here is a two-dimensional horrible controlling hardass who doesn’t give a shit about anything but his future political career.  look at his fake, smug fucking grin.  how did someone like ronan end up with a brother like him??  doesn’t matter.  it’s a convenient excuse for ronan to live with his best friend in a drafty warehouse, which means more room for YA hijinks!

declan’s introduction scene is Embroiled in Capital-D Douchebaggery. according to the narration (from gansey and adam), he loves to fuck women and then never call them back, cozy up to powerful people, and bitch about how ronan’s ruining his life by being sad about their dead parents.  SOME people can just get over their dead parents, ronan!

this intro scene is also Extremely Funny i 100% recommend reading it even if u don’t read the actual series.  ronan makes a nasty comment, declan goes “why are you the way that you are” and tries to salvage his date, gansey utters the phrase “man whore”

then later that night things go like. actually bad.

declan shows up at the same pizza place where ronan is with his friends.  this scene is gansey pov.  gansey runs out to the parking lot to find the two of them Very Literally Trying To Kill Each Other.  you don’t see that violence in cdth - there’s only the TINIEST shadow of it when declan confronts ronan over matthew - so i Cannot Express Enough that someone is going to end up hospitalized at BEST. ronan’s already slammed declan’s head on the car, declan’s already grabbed ronan and beaten the shit out of his face, like.

you do not get good old-fashioned Declan Lynch At His Actual Worst in cdth. u might be thinking, THAT guy???? doing THIS????

oh yeah. things are real bad between declan and ronan.

after gansey breaks up the fight (and gets punched in the face for his trouble, albeit accidentally), declan tells ronan that their dad would be fucking ashamed to see him now & that he’s washing his hands of it & basically if ronan wants to go off and fucking die, he can.

this is like. just a couple months after the magical suicide attempt referenced in cdth

in the aftermath of that scene it becomes clear that ronan absolutely unequivocally 100% will kill himself if he has to live with declan. hence. why he’s living with gansey instead.  gansey spends that whole night petrified that the declan altercation will lead to another attempt, and for Good Reason

so like, that’s how we first meet declan. he’s an uncaring wannabe corporate asshole who does not give a fuck and who only exists to exacerbate ronan’s mental health issues.

but then the opening of book 2 gets real interesting.

book 2 is where we start learning more about the lynch family.  we learn that ronan’s father was a dreamer who sold his creations on the black market, we learn that that’s why he was murdered. we learn that ronan’s a dreamer too. we learn that there are very powerful people looking for the greywaren, an artifact that takes objects from dreams. those powerful people just don’t realize it’s a person, yet.

so here’s the assassin who killed niall lynch.

he goes to declan’s dorm.

with everything we know about declan, the kid should be completely unprepared.  he can box, but the assassin knows that, so there’s no real advantage.  he’s alone, and he doesn’t have an escape route.

declan pulls out a gun.

this is an unexpected turn of events.

unfortunately he ends up getting beaten half to death with the butt of said gun, because he loses the ensuing physical struggle for the weapon.  the assassin is like, i need the greywaren.  declan is like, i know it exists but i don’t know what it is.  i’ll find it for you.  i’ll get it to you.  then you’ll leave me the fuck alone

now with everything we know of declan at this point - his attitude toward ronan, his general demeanor, and this new knowledge that he knew about the black market - there’s one obvious question.

will declan sell ronan out if he finds out about the dreaming.

and like, okay. their relationship is antagonistic in cdth but it is NOT what it is in trc. believe me when i tell you that at that point, when you’re reading, you can pretty reasonably go, “oh, god.  oh god.  oh god please no one ever tell declan what the greywaren is.  oh god.”

declan has some other interactions with ronan and the gang throughout the book, mostly where he’s just a hardass who tells ronan to stop causing trouble.  adam’s the only one who notices that declan is scared.  like bone-deep shaking to the core petrified.  about Something.

probably getting beaten to within an inch of his life by the man who murdered his father.  that’s the reasonable reader conclusion.

so imagine how everything changes when you find out that declan already knows.  that declan’s known about ronan’s dreaming for longer than ronan has.  that declan knew exactly what and who the greywaren was, and he lied to a man who was ready to torture him for information, and he got away with it.

suddenly a lot of things recontextualize.

“keep your head down and stop making trouble”? people are gonna NOTICE your magic bullshit, ronan, we do not have time for this!

“stop hanging with that loser druggie friend of yours”? you mean the loser druggie friend who sells on the magic black market and doesn’t care about protecting himself or anyone else?

“i got super weird for no reason about ronan sleeping close to adam”? i don’t have fucking TIME to be homophobic i’m busy with your POTENTIAL TO MANIFEST NIGHT TERRORS IN FRONT OF WITNESSES IN BROAD DAYLIGHT

“i’ll find out what the greywaren is and bring it to you”? i’ll die. i’m making a bargain to die. i’m never giving you the greywaren and i know you’re going to kill me about it and that’s fine as long as my brothers are safe

ronan doesn’t know that he dreamed matthew.  declan knows.  he’s known the whole time.  declan tells ronan in book 3.  and then things recontextualize even further, because ronan’s death is also matthew’s, and matthew IS close to declan in trc.

but declan never tells the goddamn truth unless it’s his last option.  he doesn’t tell ronan that he knows about the dreaming and he doesn’t tell ronan what specifically wants to hurt him and the lack of communication fucking destroys both of them.

in the last book, ronan realizes declan loves him.

more than that, he realizes declan’s loved him the whole time.

this is when declan finally tells the truth.  things are getting bad, plot-wise, and declan is scared, so he comes clean.  he tells ronan that niall specifically tasked declan with protecting ronan from the market.  he begs ronan to run from the danger.  “let’s pour gasoline on everything dad left and start over.”

this is also when ronan realizes that declan’s childhood was very different from ronan’s own.  and that niall and aurora lynch were not the same people to declan that they were to ronan.  and that their father’s decisions are what’s driven the wedge between him and declan all this time

(he’s still struggling with the cognitive dissonance of this in cdth. i don’t think he knows how to adjust his perception of declan to fit this new information.)

aaaaand the final scene with declan makes me cry every time i read it so instead of summarizing, here’s the important part:

Ronan delivered a sharp tap to the object, and a small cloud of fiery orbs sprayed up with a sparkling hiss.

“Jesus, Ronan!” Declan jerked his chin away.

“Please. Did you think I’d blow your face off?”

He demonstrated it again, that quick tap, that burst of brilliant orbs. He tipped it into Declan’s hand, and before Declan could say anything, jabbed it to activate it once more.

Orbs gasped up into the air. For a moment, he saw how his brother was caught inside them, watching them soar furiously around his face, each gold sun firing gold and white, and when he saw the spacious longing in Declan’s face, he realized how much Declan had missed by growing up neither dreamer nor dreamt. This had never been his home. The Lynches had never tried to make it Declan’s home.

“Declan?” Ronan asked.

Declan’s face cleared. “This is the most useful thing you’ve ever dreamt. You should name it.”

“I have. ORBMASTER. All caps.”

“Technically you’re the orbmaster though, right? And that’s just an orb.”

“Anyone who holds it becomes an ORBMASTER. You’re an ORBMASTER right now. There, keep it, put it in your pocket. D.C. ORBMASTER.”

Declan reached out and scuffed Ronan’s shaved head. “You’re such a little asshole.”

The last time they’d stood on this roof together, their parents had both been alive, and the cattle in these fields had been slowly grazing, and the world had been a smaller place. That time was gone, but for once, it was all right.

The brothers both looked back over the place that had made them, and then they climbed down from the roof together.

[rhaenyras]

EXTENDED LIST OF THINGS THAT ARE WRONG WITH CHAPTER 139

ymir the founder fritz, aka the most powerful and compelling plot device that isayama could have ever employed in order to explain the origin of the titans, the inherent slavery of the eldian people, and also everything else wrong in the world, was emptied of all value and purpose when she was revealed to have loved her abuser and oppressor. her life-long struggle to break free from the slave mentality that was pounded into her since childhood turned out to be... totally hollow. the woman's real purpose was to keep loving the man who cut off her tongue, raped her as a child and eventually had her cannibalized by their daughters when she failed to survive a murder attempt on his person. which makes for a very pinpoint parallel with eren, tbh, but he gets a whole paragraph all to himself later. amor vincit omnia should not become a convenient fix-it trope so that stuff can magically make sense in less than 50 pages. not to mention that this makeshift “solution” doesn't account for countless plot holes, that would only make sense if ymir was an abuse survivor looking to get her agency back. and even if i was keen on excusing the sloppy writing, i still wouldn't let the whole romanticisation of rape and trauma thing slide so easily. by giving a young victim like ymir fritz romantic feelings and a blind devotion towards her rapist, isayama is basically conveying a very pitiful and toxic message, one he refuses to even dignify with a realistic explanation for the thousands of readers who couldn't make a sense of it. the way this twisted version of love seems to be universally accepted by all the characters in the last chapter, as they just shrug it off like some sort of inevitable superior force that works in mysterious ways, made me wanna gouge my eyes out and never read another word again

mikasa's arc. mikasa had the potential to be the only character in the entire manga to come out on top when all was said and done. she had openly opposed eren's idea of a genocide. she had left the scarf behind when he voiced his hatred for her. she seemed ready enough to sever the proverbial umbilical cord and move on, live a life with pride, knowing how she could have outgrown her silly, dependent, obsessive old self. she might have started out as a yandere caricature, a passive and annoying side-effect to having eren as the main character, but she could have done so much better later on. she, too, just like ymir fritz, might have broken free, if only isayama liked liberated and strong women. she had the range. she had the potential, the backstory, everything. given the chance, she could have redeemed herself. but did isayama care? nope. he just threw her to the sickos in the fandom and said “here's your little psycho doll. do what you will with her. also, she's the key to understanding the superior force that works in mysterious ways aka love aka all the nonsense i'm actually too lazy to commit to”. and so, mikasa is as inconsequential in the ending as she ever was as eren's ever-present bodyguard, if not more, because now she's even refusing to look ahead and fight. two things that she at least tried to do every so often back when eren was alive. not only she surrendered to her own mental illness, but she even saw it turned into a pretty fantasy that the readers can idealise (again, romanticisation of all the wrong things) and that she'll never be able to escape so long as she lives. what's worse, she doesn't even want to, because in this manga we love downgrading and being stuck in the past, as the worst possible versions of ourselves.

historia's pregnancy. it shouldn't even have happened in the first place, unless it was dictated by historia's explicit desire to have a child precisely when she asked for one and by that one unnamed farmer guy and nobody else. whether that was the case or not remains, to this day, still shrouded in mystery because, again, isayama didn't think of coming clean about any aspect of historia's sudden decision. the notion that she might have been raped or submitted to something she really didn't want simply for the drama of it leads to some pretty terrifying implications. i have already explained countless times how it didn't even make sense for eren to be so adamant about rejecting the 50 year plan on account of not wanting historia to be breeded like cattle, titanised, and eventually devoured by her children, if he was just... gonna let her have her way, she only had to ask him nicely. why ever would historia need eren's permission to have a child? what was she even trying to tell him in chapter 130? why did eren tell her something as pivotal as the genocide plan if the friendship between them wasn't any different from any other in the 104th? why would eren take the risk to meet her in secret and suggest that they do something as radical as fighting the mp's or running away, if all she had to do was just... ask that he let her get pregnant? i suppose that was just a bait for a very specific side of the fandom, at this point, as the extent of the entire cryptic conversation from ch. 130 was never covered, and we were probably just supposed to forget about it. I can only forgive isayama for basically baiting me into shipping erehisu because he still gave historia a decent wrap-up in the ending, she looked in control and happy enough with her new life, which is something i warmly wished for her. she seems to be in a better spot than most of her former comrades, and virtually, she is the true inheritor of eren's original (and later disowned) ideology, as she is the one who will lead eldia into the future as a free nation, whatever that may mean for them now that titan powers are no longer a thing. I'm very proud of her and generally i am happy with how things played out for her and yeah, thinking back on it with a colder mind... i wouldn't have wanted it any other way, ships be damned

wHY WAS LEVI IN A WHEELCHAIR????? like..... scars aside, he was up and about in one panel, and in the next he was disabled... that was just... idk?? weird but i suppose isayama went overboard to provide us with some residual dramatic value here

the genocide being just a red herring. APPARENTLY eren never believed that the genocide was a solid way to achieve freedom. his true intention was to antagonize himself so that his friends would be hailed as heroes, but like... why... he didn't even achieve the complete annihilation of conflict in the world by doing so? his friends might be heroes now, but they're going to spend the rest of their lives fighting for their very lives. if anything, eren sparked new conflicts and made the new order so much worse for the eldians, as they have no choice but to keep fighting, except with the same weapons as anybody else now. he basically doomed his people to a bleak future of war and possibly extinction. he killed 80% of the entire world to cause nothing but a disappointing regretful outcome, and in the end he even disowned everything he ever believed in. in comparison, zeke's euthanasia plan was some genius level shit that would have achieved the same result as eren, except with not nearly as much bloodshed.

the parasite. again, great idea, poor execution. what on earth happened to it? it was the Scientific Shit that made titans happen one moment, and then gone in the next, wrestled to death by a buff war criminal with ptsd... my disappointment is over the roof

eren himself. like, as a whole. oh, what's not to regret about the 180 eren did in the finale? witnessing a mc forsaking every relevant trait that's ever made him who he is, is simply painful on the eyes. isayama basically went and said “remember eren yaeger aka the suicidal blockhead who would sacrifice everything in order to achieve freedom? yes? well forget about him, you've got aaron yogurt now.” …... who even is this man? when he broke down and cried in front of armin, whining like a baby that he wanted mikasa to never move on from him, i legit got second-hand embarassment. I felt actual shame for the way isayama handled his characterisation. like... he is a mass murderer, ok... how can he just... kneel down and cry about his step-sister whom he never did anything to date anyway like it's nothing??? armin is right to be pissed at him but he's pissed for the wrong reasons, sadly. I don't even want to tackle the topic of eren murdering his own mother, as he basically confessed to going through life on autopilot because the founding titan just erased all his feelings, gave him superior knowledge of all things and compelled him to go with the flow of things, aka the exact opposite of what he's been preaching ever since day 1. W HAT on earth man. like i said in point #1, eren's crush on mikasa is actually very frightening too, and it leads us back to that one dark force that overpowered even ymir fritz. eren is in love with a girl who's obsessed, in denial and damaged. and what's worse, mikasa reciprocates his feelings, even though eren always overlooked her or manipulated her. ymir fritz kept misunderstanding all those red flags from the king as love, probably. this is really not a story of breaking the cursed cycle, because it seems to me that everyone has returned full circle in the end.

CONCLUSION: nothing isayama or anyone might have said in interviews or elsewhere could have prepared me for this raging shitfest. the entirety of that last chapter was farfetched to say the least, everything looked half-hearted and rushed, clumsily glued together because the real isayama died and somebody else had to ghostwrite the ending for him. I am sorry if i do sound a bit disillusioned about the whole thing and can't bring myself to be outraged either, but i've been way too invested into this manga for nearly a decade, and now it all blew up in my face, so i guess i no longer give it the power to upset me lol

[worldsover]

Judgement to the Desiccated ft. Karina

length ✦ 5573

genres ✧ sm type future; asphyxiation; blackmail; virtual_servant!Karina;

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Air did a poor job of not being polluted so Lee Soo Man flooded the world instead. The man himself certainly must be long gone and could not have been in charge of that decision but the legacy of his company far exceeds the legacy of any other human collective in history. Once on this planet, gas was the fluid of choice for respiration and breathing was an unconscious reflex. Now there’s Aether by SM. How very on-brand of them to have the liquid air you breathe follow perfume naming conventions.

Open your eyes and exit the sleeping chamber. Aether has you work for each inhalation, it desaturates the color of the bedroom—maybe there’s a subtle but uncomfortable tinge of yellow—and it makes your nose itch. Your muscles wield much less force than they used to because of the lack of resistance the fluid provides. Moreover, it smells like hairspray as though the ozone layer is taking sardonic revenge.

Screens impersonating windows track your eyes to ensure realistic parallax, playing the scene of divine blue heavens that could not exist. An azure sky is a reward for those planets that have an atmosphere and a sun for light to scatter. Your walls are either chrome or drywall white and your whole bedroom is plainly decorated just like the day you moved in.

“Etymology of bedroom,” you think out loud, though it falls on no ears.

“Bedroom is a compound noun consisting of bed and room. Bed goes back to Old English bedd ‘sleeping place, plot of ground prepared for plants,’ which goes back to the Germanic-”

Plants and sleep are both strong words to use nowadays. The former doesn’t exist in nature and it seems you’re the only one who bothers with the latter. Faint buzzing distracts you from the AI’s response and signals you to the nano drones that swim throughout the liquid to process carbon dioxide from your lungs. This whole ordeal could’ve been much worse if you didn’t have brain interfaces doing the hard part of controlling your diaphragm. The most you need is a purposeful thought. Still, it gets tiring having to think the same thought every three seconds. In. Out.

Was the metaphorical Soo Man teaching a lesson in perseverance? You love K-pop and imagine it’s how trainees used to practice dancing, singing, being charismatic. Being an idol had to be as natural as breathing air. Inhale and exhale. Right now with any antiquated programming language you clung on to, you could write a single for loop that did the same job. For every three seconds: breathe in, breathe out.

“What’s for breakfast today?” Not loud enough. “What’s for breakfast?” you think it louder.

“Welcome, master. Ae-Karina is ready for service.” It’s quite a kindness for SM to blur the bland dystopia you live in by augmenting reality through your neural device. A bosomy woman in a gold-lined but otherwise modest maid outfit appears from the corner of your eye and she bows. Ae-Karina is bewitching and almost becoming of her basis as its graphics have gradually upgraded over the rotations but you wouldn’t misconstrue the avatar as human.

“I said, what’s for breakfast!” It feels impolite to scream in your head, there’s other residents there, but finally the fridge lights up.

“Of course master. May I remind you eating is unnecessary?”

In. Out. Every day, she does remind you, yes. How kind of the company to put all your nutritional requirements in the new air. Aether goes in then Aether goes out. You wish the thoughts of breathing could fade into the background but they’re just like your cravings for food. Always hungry but never starving, whole though not once satisfied. Your eyes pause at her gorgeous face and she tells you there’s bacon. Take it from your fridge. Bacon goes in. Well, the drones take care of the out.

Your assigned living space is the entire 207th floor of a tower. Two hundred and seven floors below the surface. The neighbor a few floors upstairs says that he thinks living deeper is a sign of status. What a luxury. That guy should check the status of his facial muscles, maybe improve his code that lets him tell lies while he’s at it. A couple hundred flights of stairs to swim up is a useless skeuomorphism of skyscrapers in the days of the sun. In fact they were more than useless, you would've preferred a single vertical hallway as it would have let you propel upwards unimpeded. Each floor is the exact same, a glass door that affords no privacy for its residence, a false tree on each side. At the upper levels, malls, convenience stores and other gaudy retail, but it’s the gyms that mock you that you mock in return. They’re always empty.

Finally reaching the top is no true break even if it is a change in scenery. Inhale. Aether tastes a little different up here. Exhale. Can’t say you like it.

Countless satellites form a parody of the star from which the planet flew away, the false image refracted by the upper boundary of Aether. They can’t take away your memories of this star. Looking up at the sky once blinded you with ultraviolet radiation, burning your cornea. It was beautiful. Now everyone’s decided that if they’re playing the part of corporate dystopia, they might as well fit the aesthetic. In a way, it’s self-fulfilling. They wouldn’t have chosen a neon pink sun to compliment the blue and metallic gloom of the cityscape if it weren’t so ingrained in popular media already.

Still, you would’ve expected Google or Walmart to become the megacorp responsible for the state of the world, not a Korean entertainment company. Must’ve been quite the red paperclip scenario. Instead of material design or utilitarian architecture, tacky artistic structures line the streets. The same advertisements for albums that they’ve been selling for the past however long. It's all so obvious, the city could've been designed from scratch to accommodate new forms of travel and goddamn liquid air but instead they went with futuristic Tokyo.

Dubstep permeates your inner ear implants. A notification informs your thoughts that it’s “Hip-hop EDM dance pop with a strong jungle house groove and urban influences.” It’s dubstep. Liquid carries barely any sound so SM affords the option for implants if you're nostalgic for one of the senses. Even though it’s a slower form of communication than direct neural transfer, the noise comforts you. Of course the company would choose dubstep as their background music, but maybe they make money off refunds somehow. It switches to Ice Cream Cake. Much better.

You walk the not so busy roads towards a short brick warehouse in the distance and heavy rain soaks your clothes. No such thing as weather without the sun and water but it’s all simulated anyway.

A warm Seulgi adlib and you know it’s Psycho that starts playing. No, none of your senses are real. The most you could trust is your vision but even that’s being lied to. You could be living in a vat and fed all these thoughts, but then why make it so mediocre? Not paradise, nor torture but a lukewarm in-between. Guess that's what happens when SM Entertainment manages the post-apocalypse. Good on them for trying. The alternative would be a frozen hellscape without solar radiation. Can’t deny their work with geothermal and nuclear energy to keep the Aether warm so that you didn’t have to live underground for the rest of human history. It’s quite great PR to save humanity.

“Hey now, we’ll be okay,” repeats a few more times than you remember.

The Idea Factory Alpha White Delta Green says the neon tubes lighting the front of the brick and mortar building. Your ID card bears a name but it’s not yours, not until they approve your name change. Those usually get processed faster with how often people liked changing their names.

Sit at a desk with a sterile white keyboard and slick new monitor. Type and empty words appear on the screen: “Think for the many, not for the one. We need to think ahead.” A thumbs up. The company appreciates the input. That’s probably enough work for one day. Some SNSD live stages help the time pass, SM certainly appreciated the streaming numbers and it would net you some social points.

It’s hard to say what comes to mind when they ask you to envision a world without the sun and air, especially since it’s what you’ve known for... Two hundred years? There’s no frame of reference, that much you can tell from when you counted seconds to see how often the satellites completed their orbit. SM really took time to have them propel at random speeds, they love withholding sensitive information like that from citizens. To be fair, time is sensitive. Guess the meaning of that phrase changes like all parts of language.

Look around. Dozens of employees at identical workspaces all try to answer the same questions. Naturally, there’s no need for manual labor anymore but there will never be a replacement for human ingenuity. Nice slogan but you know you’re only here for data. Can’t see a need for customer retention though—what’s the alternative, skip Earth? See you on another planet?

“Hey bro, you come up with anything new?” Dave says. Two desks away, you see the enthusiastic, surprisingly spry man play around with a Newton’s cradle. The balls at each end bounce back and forth, not slowing down their rhythm any time soon.

“I think I got something,” you say, “Earth is not the answer. It can’t be, long term.”

“Ooh, I like that. Actually, I really like that.”

“What are you gonna do, copy me?”

“Of course not. You know how much SM hates plagiarism.” Click. Clack.

“Ha. As if there’s a single original thought left in the world.” Click. Clack. The imaginary sounds of metal spheres bouncing play in your mind. They got the volume wrong, no way it’d sound that loud from that distance. “You’d think with all their resources, they’d have figured out space travel by now.”

“I don’t think they want to leave, bro. Wouldn’t be great for profits.”

Your mouth opens to laugh and causes laugh8942.mp3 to play in Dave’s head. “I love it. SM probably hates that sass too,” you say.

“Oh no, they’re gonna arrest me for thoughtcrimes. Nah, they love creativity, just when it suits them. Also, if they actually did bust you for wrongthink like rumors say, I wouldn’t have this on me.” Dave twirls a finger and points at you and you thank his absurd flair for the histrionic that keeps you amused with such drab work.

“NewDrug.mp6. Would you like to play it?” the dry system voice notifies you.

“Woah woah there tiger, hold on.” Dave must’ve noticed your intrigued eyes and holds his hands up. “You might wanna experience that at home. But if you’re interested in more, ask for chicken parm at the vegan place. You know the one.”

Dave leaves his desk. He doesn’t return. You finish your work. Inspire. Expire. You’d rather not.

In contrast to your commute to work, the roads fill with others on your way home. You have to know. Take solace in the comfort of a bench where a huge McDonald’s arch bathes the surroundings and its people with a yellow glow. Really shouldn’t watch it now, especially if Dave says it’s a home type of watch but you have to know. A family of five watches you pass out. They, along with every other passerby, ignore your still body draped over the chrome outdoor seating as you look like yet another junkie. The title is correct after a fashion, the simulation is some sort of new drug. The details of the exploits that happen in the immersive replay wash over you but you don’t need them to know that it’s the sort of lewd that SM would not allow—at least not publicly and not without the right exorbitant payment.

Suit pants and underwear go straight to the laundry. That must’ve been an embarrassing sight but no one bothered to stop you, so it doesn’t matter. Look up where this vegan place was that Dave so presumptuously assumed you knew about and you find that it’s about four Avengers’ stores down from work. He must’ve eaten there before.

“Yo Dave, just wanna make sure, what’s the name of the vegan place called?”

“What are you talking about, man? You telling me there’s some secret underground farms that SM wouldn’t know about?”

You can’t tell when you got to work, a lack of standardized timing would help as well the haze of living in a monotonous dark. “Nah, I mean, for the-”

“I have no idea,” Dave emphasizes each word, “what you’re talking about.”

“I see.”

Work flies by, unusually.

“Hey, can I get a chicken-”

“Uh, this is Maron’s Veggies Only, it clearly says on the sign.”

Clear your throat. “Parm.”

The shifty part-time worker looks around and rubs his fingers gesturing for money. “No digital.”

Over the counter, you pass him a gold coin stamped with a holographic 1 and he hands you a USB stick and a laptop in return. How old-fashioned.

“It’ll sync with whoever you have set as your avatar experience aspect,” the worker says.

“Thanks.”

Ever vigilant as the patrol is, the alleys are the last place you want to go to hide with the obvious criminal element within them all but you head to one anyway. Dump the anachronistic technology in your storage pocket dimensions. Looking at its contents, you’d have to clean that mess up later, but the more you look like an average slob the better. The biggest problem with the inventories is all the people squatting in them. Inspectors wouldn’t care about the archaic ruins you left in yours.

“Welcome, master. Ae-Karina is ready to service.”

“I’d like to go on a date. A special date.” You highlight the key word special and sit on your living room couch. No one’s going to look in your glass door and regardless, you wouldn’t be the pervert for glimpsing into someone’s home.

“Ah yes, master. Ae-Karina is ready to fully service,” she says with a provocative tint in her tone, her sclera disperses to black to match. A pole drops from the ceiling while parts of her maid outfit dissolve which reveals more of the silky skin of her thighs, her lissom arms and most importantly her overflowing breasts. Ae-Karina wraps her legs around the pole and spins around, teasing fingers trace curves on her body to harden you. Her dance is precise but sultry regardless. She pulls up her short skirt to flaunt more of her ass beneath white panties and then pulls down to flourish her cleavage, not trapped by a bra. “Are you enjoying your maid’s show?”

“Very much so, yes,” you say.

Half of a smile forms before a glitch occurs and she teleports next to you, fully nude. It doesn’t pull you out of the illusion however. You just stare and drink in the splendor of her created body.

“You’re not going to touch?” Ae-Karina says.

A feel of her tits and you find it softer than pillows you used to rest on. Soft isn’t much of a character that exists anymore when the whole world is engulfed in liquid. No one has beds, especially with the rarity of sleep. Therefore, her mounds are a consummate dedication to the texture as you squeeze and pinch at her cute nipples.

Her maid outfit rematerializes as she straddles you. It provides more friction to your pants as she begins her lap dance. The weight of her body dragging across your legs and clothed erection induces your carnal impulses further. If only you could fuck the virtual idol. You have to make do with the imprint of her pussy lips on your bulge sliding up and down. Breath in. Breath out.

Ae-Karina pulls down your boxers and spits on your erection. It's not real but her hands so slick on your cock and you let reality slip. Real is for the past, you have desires gratified in the present. There is no real person nibbling at your neck but your nerves activate in sexual desire without discernment for truth. No, she doesn't love you, but when the voracious mass of ones and zeroes says it loves its master, you say it back.

"I love you."

ILOVEYOU infected ten million computers in 2000. An explosion. Calibration engaging. It’s 1:21 PM, Sunday, July 18, 2286 and hypothetically the sun would be out in its full rage. At this latitude and longitude, you’re at what was once the epicenter of all—Seoul, where a fountain caused a chain reaction allowing the hopeful remnant of a world to exist. It lasted a surprisingly long time without the sun and without Aether but the dying planet would succumb inevitably to the ever-increasing contamination so SM of all corporations took charge. A different kind of chain reaction occurred when they acquired a restaurant chain that discovered the recipe for liquid air. The law is on its way and prepared to punish you to its full extent.

You reel while your ears ring. An even sexier version of the woman you already fantasized about appears from your peripheral vision in the crater of your floor. A skimpy cop outfit, striated with reflective material that seems to wane black at different angles, outlines Karina’s curves. She has a tool belt with absurd gadgets, such as a knife baton hybrid, a taser combined with a spray bottle and a Tamagotchi. None of this is necessary. They could just immediately arrest you, impose limitations on your devices. Sure, SM cloned people to deal with underpopulation, but why Karina would be the enforcer is a whole nother issue. Maybe the entertainment company loves their irony?

“Halt. You’re under arrest. Any resistance will be penalized according to the combined Terms of Service of all SM and SM associated products.”

Fucked anyway, you figure you might as well go for it. Escape into your inventory and only seconds later you’re forced out. You manage to get what you need regardless.

“Violation of access rights will be charged to your account.”

It’s so obvious but there’s a reason you kept so much gold in physical storage. As you swim away, the sides of your apartment start to bubble. Bubbles? Already, your limbs feel unsteady. Something’s wrong in the Aether.

“This is standard procedure for escaping suspects that are indoors. Again, this is all agreed to under the Terms of Service.”

“When the fuck did I ever click accept to that shit?”

“When you were born in this world and decided you want to stay in it,” Karina says out loud. You hear her say it. Your physical ears process the vibrations in the air that come from her mouth. Gravity thwarts your desperate escape as your limp body floats on the limit between liquid and air. The atrophy of your muscles becomes apparent within the gaseous atmosphere. She watches you sink down as the room drains of all the false air though her eyebrows crease when she inspects you closer. Your breaths are involuntary. Despite your muscles shorting out, the force of gravity and the pressure of the gas bearing down on you, you’re breathing and you don’t mean to. Her eyes wander farther down. On your pants, a concrete rod stamps the fabric.

“Oh, you like what you see?”

“Shut up, criminal. Anything you say can and will be used against you.”

“Your pussy,” you say and she scoffs.

“Original.” Karina bites her lip as your erection continues to grow behind its prison. You use all effort to put your hands up.

“Please, miss Karina. I’ve been bad.”

“I could punish you even more for sexual assault.”

“Then do it.”

Heat radiates the room in a way you haven’t felt in a while and droplets of sweat form on each of your bodies, especially on the thighs that her revealing outfit parades. Her facial features contort in deliberation and the wait kills you. You bat your eyes at her before Karina takes off her tight shorts and drops herself into your anticipatory face. This makes no sense but none of this life made any sense so you decide to go with the tides.

Centuries of training your respiration has led to this moment, but when you finally have real air to breathe, you spit at the opportunity and choose to suffocate. Then you spit at her pussy and lap it up. Karina’s nectar transfixes your olfactory glands, for once a smell that isn’t the sterile Aether. Your eyes are mesmerized in parallel because of the perfect design of her pussy, a single crease that leads into her hole that your tongue emphatically explores. Karina spreads her thighs wide to reveal a small nub that craves attention. So give it. Suck and swirl and flick your tongue, and the woman provides you the tight clench of her legs as a gift. And the sounds, rediscovered glorious noise. Loud, almost too loud, and clear is how they assault your ears, even surrounded by the flesh of her thighs. Muffled by the weight of her legs, you hear Karina moan in approval but she’s still clearly in charge with how she chokes you with her legs. This is not about your pleasure but hers, and any satisfaction that you derive is not only incidental but probably punishable by SM copyright law.

Karina squirms her hips subtly on your mouth. Her eyes are sharp and she’s just about to stop your hands from moving but she notices them clasp together.

“I’ll do anything to make you cum, please.” you say sloppily as her pussy juices fill your cheeks and drip down your chin.

“God. I can’t.” She takes deep, contemplative breaths. ”That’s more time added on for inappropriate behavior.” Her groaning and brief squeals make her words sound incogent.

You give her a concluding lick and a kiss on her slit. “So what have you been doing right now then?”

Point to a corner of the room and a subtle red light indicates a recording camera. At once, she pulls out a hose from a pocket that could not fit it and the vacuum submerges the room with noise. Her expression shifts quickly to serious.

“We don’t play games here in SMTOWN unless it’s SuperStar so don’t fuck with me.”

“Look who's trying to be a comedian. How about you fuck with me any further and the video gets released.”

“That’s funny, you think you have any sort of power-”

“Yoo Jimin, I suggest you don’t push me more.”

“Where do you know that name from? Right now.” She weighs herself down on your neck.

“You think I don’t have contingencies for if I die too? Karina, we can make this a  win-win scenario. We both get to cum, we both get to walk away unscathed.”

“Fuck you.”

Your weak arms wander between her thighs. At any moment, a feeble punch towards your face or another ten seconds of asphyxiation and she could call your bluff. Even if you did have the ability to expose her perversions in any way, there would be no permanent recourse, not as long SM was in charge. So it surprises you when Karina takes off her shorts. 

“Goddammit. Your cock just looks too good. And your mouth, how are you so good with it?” Put up five fingers when she motions to remove her top as well, and instead she opts to take off your clothes, seizing your pants and throwing them to join the rubble in the room.

A finger slips in, then two and a third dares. Her flawlessly architected pussy lips clings to your digits and Karina shudders in reply. You explore her wetness and find it’s smooth to the point of having no faults, but her juice inside is gloppy and causes your fingers to stick more than the liquids she spills from her slit.

“Who said you’re allowed to have more?”

You lap up the nectar on your fingers. “Then why’d they make you taste so good?”

Your thumb teases her sweet tight asshole and puts just the slightest amount of pressure on it while you finger her with more intensity. The mass of her butt burdens your torso the closer she gets to orgasm. Her eyelids squeeze close and you see her body ripple in anxious pleasure. Karina shows off her pearly whites, teetering on the cliff of hysteria.

“Yes, yes! I’m so close,” she screams.

"Not yet."

“Fuck." Karina sobs, "God. Damn, fuck I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Just fuck me.”

“My pleasure,” you say. There’s no need for you to grab her since she brings herself down to your groin, which you’re thankful for as your arms are as good as jelly now. Fortunately, your cock throbs as hard as ever while Karina’s slit rests on it.

“Say you’ll delete it all, all the evidence, promise me.”

“You’re gonna fuck me first or what?” Your breath hitches while she makes a strangled noise as her velvety walls swallow your cock whole to leave no room for comfort. Her tightness is stifling and you have to start counting just to breathe again.

“One two-”

“Be quiet.”

But there is no quiet when pleas for your cooperation intersperse her excessive profanities when she seats herself into your cock and ricochets up and down. Sweat emanates from her creamy skin while her legs widen to find a better angle for her supporting knees in her cowgirl position. Grapefruit and other citrus mingle with the scent of the sweat, fruits you haven’t seen except on billboards in music videos. As much as your mind crackles and your blood roars for every atmosphere of pressure Karina’s walls provide on each thrust in and out, you can’t help but reminisce on sweeter, more innocent times.

The white fluorescent lights in your apartment sputter. For all the advancements in technology, some among many things never change. Light refracts differently in air, less bright, but you can see the pure enjoyment on Karina’s face no matter the luminescence. Karina slows her ride to pull her hips down harder instead and she jolts when your cock finds the most tender spots inside her pussy and it interrupts her babbling.

Karina almost hyperventilates when she gets up to spit on your cock. She pulls out some kind of meter from her tool belt and sighs when there’s no beeping and you recognize it having to do with carbon dioxide. She gets back to dribbling saliva and the filament trailing down to your shaft mesmerizes you. This spit is real, not simulated, and it wettens your erection in a mix with her pussy juices to paralyze you further in your already listless state. Her bare thighs jiggle and you can’t exert much force with your hands but her buttcheeks are firm with just a bit of give.

“Thank you for this cock, thank you for being bad,” Karina says as you watch her ass sink deeper while her pussy holds your dick taut. She’s frenetic when bounces up and down to play an unadulterated orchestra of slick noises between your groins.

“You’re welcome,” you accomplish getting out the words between planned breaths. Your hands cup her buttcheeks but you fear they may break with how she strikes her ass into you.

Karina turns around once more to give you the spectacle of her facial expressions as she fucks herself into you. Knead her calves laying on your torso and they take no energy to spread them though she brings them back together, compressing your hard shaft within her pussy. A new game you play with her, a separate rhythm of loosening and tightening. Her feet press on your chest to help her bounce, but the way they bear down on your lungs against the timing of your breathing causes you to fumble. Your cock bends straight forward as she plunges herself into you and it sends prickles to your entire skin, making the new angle difficult but worth it. Karina takes your hand and starts sucking on your fingers.

“You want my promise that bad?” you say.

“Yes, as bad as I want your cum. I swear, I need it.”

She draws her knees up to her torso and hugs her legs to keep thighs as tight together as possible. Karina couldn’t keep her word, she was trying to kill your cock with constriction.

“Fuck, your pussy is so fucking tight. God, Karina, fuck. You’re so good.” Even if good isn’t the word you want to use to describe her.

“Do it, please, please. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, baby. Karina can be a good girl, a good maid, a good cop, whatever you want. Just don’t get me in trouble, please.”

Karina’s mouth stops saying words though her lips writhe, drunk in increasing lust. Her cheeks flush, before the rest of her skin joins in redness while she grapples your chest and whatever spare limb she can find. You still struggle wresting control of your body but nature seems to take over when you drive yourself into her and match her needy cadence. The air in the room is replaced by a new air but it isn’t Aether. Passion, sweat, heat and all fluids that you both exude join squelching sounds, slaps and moans in harmonic bliss when her body tenses and she screams. As her body tightens, her pussy especially holds your cock for dear life and endeavours to wring out all your semen as her wetness throbs and spills. Karina starts counting to three repeatedly and you laugh though your amusement quickly subsides when you feel her juices become more viscous and she continues her ride, even in the dying pulses of her climax.

“Was I good?” Karina asks.

Just a moment goes by before you mentally send her a screenshot of all the recordings being deleted. Karina hasn’t stopped fucking you yet so at least it wasn’t a ploy.

“Thank you, thank you, I love you.” The flexion of her pliant legs brings them all the way back to rest on top of your legs. Karina lays prone above you and finally give you a kiss. The citrusy flavor may be closer to lime than grapefruit but it’s been so long that you can’t remember which scent is which. Lips crash and her tongue lashes out at yours trying to establish dominance. Keep still to let her investigate your mouth while her pussy does the same to your shaft.

You savor the way Karina’s top emphasizes the bouncing of her tits synchronous with the rebounding of her waist on your cock, but your mouth waters when she frees them. Take the shortest moment to relish in the sight before Karina smothers you with her plump globes. You wriggle your face to try to breathe. Inhale, up and exhale, down, but all you inhale is the scent of her orbs’ sweat. Her hips undulate with a pace at least double yours breathing and the echoes of slapping flesh resonate throughout the air-filled chamber. The loudness is unlike any you’ve experienced in a long time. It’s almost a flashbang every time her ass slams into your lap, especially as you start to see white when orgasm threatens to overload you with preludial pulses.

The last words you hear infected ten million computers in 2000. Fade to black. Cut. You’re slammed out of existence back into existence as a sun rebirths both within you, heating your core to a dangerous high, and from your eyes, dazzling you in an unforgiving white light. In the throes of unconsciousness relapsing to consciousness back to tenebrosity, your streaks of semen suspend in the Aether like a dead tree resting from the wind. What flashes your mind in its orgasmic state are two things only you would remember, plants and weather. Your hyperventilation is unconscious but not unwelcome, as it’s the first time in a while your breaths were reflexive even in the liquid air. However, basking in your newfound power, you start to choke. Right. You breathe in and out again. In and out. In. Out. In. Out. Back in.

“Replaying KarinaArrestsYou.mp6.” A hint of vexatious glee in the system’s otherwise dry voice. You don’t stop for it.

✦✧✦✧✦✧ 

AFF, AO3

It’s pretty silly but the idea danced around in my head ever since I saw the absolute Black Mirror concept that SM had for aespa and I concur that Karina is insanely hot.

As I’m writing this, this Kurzgesagt video on the idea of a rogue Earth comes out and now I have to rewrite stuff to make it at least a little consistent. I’m obviously already going nuts with all these ridiculous sci-fi concepts but this video almost feels too targeted to me writing this for me to ignore it.

[windblooms]

topaz devices | ch. 01

if zhongli isn’t a the brightest individual blessed by the archons, then he’s socially inept, and spends his days stuck behind a desk as the heir of wangsheng incorporated.  frustrated by seeing his best friend burn through his days like paper over a bonfire, childe decides that if there’s one thing worse than a permeant desk job, it’s being converted into a corporate machine in one’s mid-twenties.  and he’s not going to let that happen to zhongli. 

gender-neutral reader x sugar daddy!zhongli.  modern au, slow burn.  chapter 1/?.  2213 words.

as usual, zhongli awakens a minute before his morning alarm goes off.  

and as he lays on the daybed, adjusting to the faint lighting of the moon that floats through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office, the first thing he does is reach for his phone.  but when he pats down the area beside him, then above his head, and feels nothing, he begrudgingly props himself up on his elbows, and blinks the final bits of sleep out of his eyes.

this isn’t the first time he’s fallen asleep at the office.  admittedly, it’s probably over his hundredth, since he’s found it more practical to crash near his workspace than drag himself three floors up to his room.  but, oh, where did he leave his phone?  zhongli glances around, eyes no longer bleary; it’s not on the coffee table next to him, nor on the floor between it and the daybed, and for a split second he believes he left his phone at the tea station across the hall. 

and then it chimes with his alarm on the marble floor just before his work desk.

“ah,” he sighs to himself, voice still somewhat choked from the morning.  as the tone plays, he runs both of his hands through his hair, pulling back his bangs before letting them fall to the sides of his face, and takes a glance around his office: he vaguely remembers staying up until four in the morning to finish scanning over a forwarded contract, and the three empty cups of caffeinated tea that surround his desktop computer can attest to his commitment; there are reference binders on his desk that zhongli hadn’t put away after using, likely too engrossed in the project to tidy up as he worked, and the most damning evidence of his corporate devotion is easily the fact that, well – 

“conference in one hour,” his phone alarm is interrupted by the sound of its virtual assistant voice.  “conference with,” it continues in robotic fashion, “mrs. ningguang at seven-thirty-a.m.”

– he had scheduled an impromptu meeting after he finished reading said document.  as in, he intended to follow through with a meeting arrangement on less than four hours of sleep.  as in, arranged a meeting when it was three in the morning.  

as in, he also expected others to attend the conference on a four hour’s notice.  

such is the way of wangsheng incorporated, an institution where everyone involved is asked to sell their soul to the matriarch, all for the prosperity of her company.  the matriarch in this case being, of course, zhongli’s mother.

 “conference with,” his virtual assistant repeats, and zhongli hauls himself up from the daybed and onto his feet, padding over to his phone before swiping over the screen to silence all of his notifications. “mrs. ninggua – ” beep.

he inhales, stretches his arms, and then gazes out to the liyuen skyline. 

the horizon is still dark, with only hints of warmth leaking onto the expansive blanket of night.  below, however, the streets are illuminated by commuting vehicles and establishments opening for the day.  from his place on the higher floors of the company building, zhongli can only imagine the hum of life – he’s much too far up to actually hear anything.  

it’s at this moment he realizes that the last time he’s actually stepped foot out of the building was over a week ago – and a grimace becomes his first expression of the day.  archons, he didn’t think he was that busy, but begins mentally count the days regardless.  yeah, 9 days.  zhongli’s frown deepens; knowing himself, it’s probably also been 9 days since he’s left his floor on the building.

as much as he would like to leave, though, the company is more important to him.  until there’s a convenient time for him to take a break, he’ll keep working.  it’s what he’s always done – it’s what he’s good at.  

so he inhales once more, as the skyline is washed with violet.  exhales.  

the clock reads six thirty-three. 

. . . 

it’s around four in the morning when childe decides that zhongli is officially insane.

who the fuck arranges a meeting in the dead middle of the night?  granted, he’s only zhongli’s secretary, so it’s not like he has to take part in it – the gripe here is that he’s the one who manages zhongli’s entire schedule.  so when zhongli goes out on his own, arranging things without telling him first, that’s when the issues start.  

childe receives the conference notice just as the other executives do (while on a comfortable date with his bed); reading zhongli’s attached note with gunk wedged in his eyes and a screen flashing blue light directly into his irises makes him think – 

there’s no way zhongli’s in the right state of mind.  and after three whole years of working with him, others would think that childe’s used to his mercurial behavior by now.  but he would give himself more credit, insisting that he’s not that deep into the corporate mentality to put business before rationale – but maybe it’s the luxury that comes along with being a secretary and not anyone more important.

now, where was he?  oh, yeah.  plotting exactly which words to tell his boss when it’s an acceptable time in the morning.  

that means grumbling obscenities until he falls back asleep, brain power exhausted.  that means waking up at an appropriate time (read: six), rolling out of bed, then heading to the tea bar, and concluding that, well, this is just how zhongli operates.

as in, he can’t be angry at his best friend for long.

ceramic cup in hand and bedhead as thick as a haystack, childe recalls two things that were previously clouded by his indignance: one, that the business life is all zhongli’s ever known, even when he was a kid (that much was made obvious when he couldn’t even list out how many hobbies he had the first time they met).  two, the fact that, when asked, zhongli didn’t know which would be worse between losing stock investments or entire contact with the outside world. 

sheltered is probably the closest word childe can think of, but zhongli isn’t stupid either.  maybe socially inept is the better way to describe him – not like it cripples his personality entirely though.  he’s got some redeeming qualities – childe tells himself to think positively of zhongli for the entirety of his stroll down the hall towards his office – but stops short once he opens the door and realizes that, well, 

“three,” childe mouths incredulously, nearly dropping the ceramic in his hand.  “three cups of tea from last night alone?”

“good morning to you too.”

childe doesn’t have much time to gawk.  he would drag his face down with his fingers if his hands weren’t occupied, but knowing zhongli, he wouldn’t even make note of his dramatics.  absorbed into his work first thing in the morning – and childe, looking down at himself, isn’t even dressed properly.  just a dress shirt and pants, while zhongli has already decked himself out in a full-piece suit.

that’s what happens when zhongli decides that his office is where he’s going to live.

“you know,” childe starts, sighing for good measure.  the ginger makes his way over to zhongli’s desk, replacing the three cups with one of fresh tea.  glaze lily tea, to zhongli’s preference.  “staying up late isn’t good for your health.  especially when you’re high on caffeine six days a week.”

well, duh.  the words come out dumber than he intended, but it gets the point across.  it’s not childe’s job to sound intelligent, only that he knows how to manage someone else’s schedule.  

it takes a few seconds for zhongli to respond, as his fingers are busy typing away at the keyboard.  drafting another email, most likely.  in that time, childe hooks his fingers through the handles of the three cups zhongli had downed the previous night, preparing to carry them out.  “i do what i need to get things done,” the workaholic counters.  his eyes don’t leave the monitor for a second, and childe has half the mind to think that he’s a robot.  “we’ve talked about this before.”

zhongli’s not wrong, but childe’s face sours nonetheless.  “i can’t have the heir of the company sabotaged by his own toxic work ethic, and insist that you take a nap whenever possible, my liege.”

his dramatics doesn’t earn him any points.  he worries briefly that zhongli’s already gone into his own world, only able to be hauled back to the surface once the sun is far gone, and his eyebrows furrow.  but now bent on getting a constructive response from zhongli, he refuses to budge from his spot across the desk.  

almost as if he’s uncomfortable, zhongli looks up.  childe knows he’s not actually peeved, and that the brunette is just thinking of what to say.  three years of working for him taught him as much.  “if i have time to, then i will.”  the young heir averts his eyes towards the screen before meeting childe’s again.  “thanks for your concern.”

if childe were any other person, he would believe zhongli.  zhongli speaks without a falter in his voice – as if it weren’t already as smooth as velvet – and his eyes are resolute when locked onto his.  but he’s not someone else, and the closest individual to a friend that zhongli has.  it would be a disservice, both as a friend and coworker, to leave zhongli to his devices.  so childe doesn’t relent.  it’s his turn to be stubborn and set in his ways. 

he places the cups back onto the desk, and the other man looks up curiously, just in time to see childe’s eyes narrow.  “i mean it, zhongs.”

and, with just as much performative sincerity as before, zhongli says the same thing he always does, with a straight face and empty eyes.  “i do, too.”

“no, you don’t.”  childe’s scowl is as deep as his concern.  he wasn’t joking earlier when he said that zhongli would be murdered by his own obsession with work – “responsibility,” as the younger of the two would insist, but he’s blind to his own persistence, and time has made that blatantly obvious.  “i know you have a meeting soon, so i won’t stay long.  i don’t care if we’ve talked about this before,” he rushes his words, determined to get them in before zhongli quips, “it doesn’t make it any less important.”

a pause.  zhongli’s typing has halted and is instead replaced by silence.  hell, he even folds his fingers together on top of the keyboard, as if telling childe that he finally has his full attention.  but the void in his eyes hasn’t changed: amber, clouded with vermillion, and burning in coals.

childe assesses him sternly, extending the stillness of the moment, before proceeding.  “i’m going to block out your schedule tonight after eight, and we’re going to have a talk.”

zhongli tries not to look fazed.  to his credit, he really, really tries, but his posture bristles just enough to cue the secretary in on his client’s displeasure.  “no, i’m not going to watch over you for the rest of the night to make sure you sleep,” he reassures just as swiftly, half-teasing and half-serious, “but we are going to make some plans.”

both of childe’s hands are flat on the desk as the two of them regard each other.  although zhongli is the taller of the two, his position in the office chair gives childe the height advantage in the current situation.  “after you get enough rest this week, i’m going to get you out of this building,” childe vows to zhongli.  neither of them blink.  “you’re going to walk on the streets and breathe fresh air.  you’re going to spend time with people your age and eat at a restaurant.  you’re going to have fun.” 

it is at that moment, when zhongli’s face falters as if he’s being spoken to in python when his input is java, that childe realizes that he has no strategy, and that he’s just saying the things that he wants for zhongli: he refuses to believe that zhongli will continue to regard this room, conditioned with with frigid air and tailored to each tile on the floor, is his only future, and instead wants his 25 year-old boss to have some semblance of life in his days instead of bleeding through each, only to tear through the next.

childe had the choice to dream towards the life he currently lives.  on the other hand, zhongli never did.  inheriting a multi-million dollar company, especially being the son of the ceo, outwardly sounds like the opportunity only the archons could bestow.  childe would have thought the same too.  

until he realized that predestination sucks, and that zhongli is too good to wither his youth away behind a desk.  

childe has exactly thirteen hours to come up with a plan.  from the thoughts floating in his head, it can turn out in one of two ways:

one: zhongli is integrated back into society and lives a happier, more animated life than what he currently has. 

two: childe loses his job.

[dormarunt]

I don't like that in vol1 Palermo lost all the importance he had in seasons 3&4, and it seems like he won't be getting back that kind of importance in vol2 either (Rodrigo said something like this, that in s3-4 the narrative needed someone like Palermo in a more prominent position, but now he's more secondary). Do you think that he at least gets to explain the plan's remaining parts? If not, I will be disappointed.

To sum it up: Palermo is a plot device. And I hate it.

He takes the backseat in the heist he planned and possibly came up with. That's so great. Isn't it great? (NO) I guess that with both Raquel and Palermo inside the bank, the writers had to choose. And they choose Raquel because, IMO, they really don't know what to do with her after season 3. She can't just be ~The Professor's Girlfriend, that's reductive, and she can't be with him in the water treatment thing, because the whole thing with Alicia wouldn't have been possible. Plus, her getting captured was so obviously (IMO) a plot device to raise tension, and when they freed her, they couldn't have just delivered her to where Sergio was hiding - again, because Alicia had to ~capture Sergio.

Honestly, the writers of this show don't really know what to do with their female characters, do they?

So she's inside the bank, and she's more than competent to take charge. She IS. But it was Palermo's plan, right? It's hinted that he came up with it, if we are to take historical aspects into consideration and his rant to Gandia about the gold that the Spanish have stolen. And his reverence about the stolen gold items in the museum. So it was his plan, right? To me it's.... rude at the very least to push him to the background. In HIS plan. Sergio no doubt told Raquel everything about it - hell, he told her things that he didn't even tell Palermo - so she can absolutely do it. But-- should she? Do the couple of months she's spent with Sergio preparing for the heist weigh more than the years Martin spent working on it and developing it?

Maybe this is the punishment Sergio has for Palermo - to be honest, it's more punishment than anything else he could come up with, to take the reins of his plan from under him. To take power from someone so obsessed with it. To take something that has such a deep meaning to him, and give it to someone else.

Not to mention - what in the name of fuq is Sergio thinking? He knows Palermo, knows how he is ("obsessed with power" being one of them) and he still decides to take the most competent leader of the plan and set him to relaying orders? You could argue that the three of them agreed to it before going in, and I'd be fine with it - Palermo may be controlling but he is not stupid; he knows how to do right by the plan - but he was clearly blindsided when Raquel came in talking about a plan he wasn't privy to (Roma, IIRC). Sergio, respectfully; WTF man? (and by "Sergio", I mean, "Pina")

In short, I hate it. I have a lot of Feelings and Opinions about it, but overall, I hate it. LCDP is about the plan and them outsmarting ~the system; but the plan, no matter how you cut it, is about Martin and Andres. They set it up together and then--

So yeah. Palermo was a plot device to the writers. Just there to be the origin for another plan; a new character with a convenient history - him and Andres working on this new plan that Sergio appropriates and gives to someone else, basically - if we're going after what happened in part 1 and what Rodrigo said about part 2.

Palermo is a plot device, and he deserved better (writing). We all do.

[vivithefolle]

Hi Vivi, can you share some thoughts on the "Hermione deserves to be/should have married to XYZ because she is way too good for Ron" mentality of this fandom??

I’m gonna copy-paste a Quora answer of mine, because recycling is important!

Claiming that Ron is “out of Hermione’s league” is a statement rooted in sexism, classism and probably a bunch of other -isms.

It might seem like I’m just throwing buzz-words around but let me explain.

First off, the sexism.

Oh, the sexism.

As I’ve pointed it out in yet another one of my answers  (I’m so sorry for drowning you all in a plethora of links), Ron is very much a female-coded male character.

Ron is emotional, wears his heart on his sleeve, has anxieties and inadequacies, walks off in order to cool down, has a temper, puts other people before his needs, and pretty much adopts Harry when he rescues him in the second book. He’s the Heart of the Trio: he doesn’t rely on sole logic, he can believe something without proof, he is sensitive and thus is the easiest to hurt emotionally.

Whether you call it a “beta male”, a “wuss”, “defying gender roles” or a “soft boy” is your own business, but the core of it is that Ron doesn’t meet the standards for people’s vision of a “desirable” masculine figure.

The little things Ron quietly performs in the books - when he helps Harry into his pyjamas in Chamber of Secrets because Harry’s arm is bloop; when he’s worrying about Hermione’s whereabouts in Prisoner of Azkaban; when he helps Harry unwind after his visions in Goblet of Fire; when he puts food onto Harry’s plate and wakes him up from his nightmares in Order of the Phoenix; when he beams that Hermione was “perfect, obviously” when she passes her Apparition test - all those caring gestures don’t seem like much, but if you bother to think about it, they paint an enormous picture.

Who gets Hermione to stop overworking while making her feel good about her accomplishments? Who comforts Harry from his nightmares and cares for him in the dead of the night, when nobody is awake? Who makes sure his friends are healthy and happy? Who wards off the dark and depressing thoughts, be it with his fists or a joke?

It’s Ron.

When you think about it, “traditional masculinity” in Harry Potter is as much frowned upon as “traditional feminity” is - which sometimes bites Rowling in the butt when you remember how she obviously seems to consider that Hermione and Ginny are the only desirable kind of girls.

Vernon Dursley? The entrepreneur “king of the household” prejudiced suburbian middle-class Dad? Fits in the usual tropes of traditional masculinity.

Dudley Dursley? The typical “boys will be boys” spoiled middle-class only child who’s the apple of his parents’ eyes and even takes up boxing, as if he wasn’t traditionally masculine enough.

Draco Malfoy? See Dudley, but toss in “upper-class posh aristocrat bully who doesn’t like to get his hands dirty so he has henchmen do it for him because he’s too rich for this sh-t”, would remind you of a few Christian Greys or Gatsbys.

Dolores Umbridge? Oh no, cat pictures, decorative plates, talks to teens as if they’re babies and PINK, SO MUCH PINK!!! So disgustingly feminine!!

Rowling very much frowns upon traditional gender roles - with Molly Weasley being an exception because Rowling feels very strongly about being a mother, and relates to Molly a lot.

Right - so, being a beautiful mess of paradoxes and contradictions (a “soft boi” who also punches bullies in the face, a fussy mother-hen who swears like a sailor, a tall athlete with badass scars on his arms who’s nurturing and sweet; in short, a wonderfully human character), Ron is obviously going to be a polarizing character. You painfully relate to him and get defensive when he’s criticized, you feel his characterization hits a bit too close to home so you hate him, or you disregard him completely because you can’t see anything “special” about him…

Now, onto another very, very sexist point that is often made.

People say that Hermione “deserves better” than Ron, often claiming that they “aren’t intellectual equals”, then citing Harry (who is mistaken as being some sort of slumbering genius but honestly, the kid is really a bit daft) or Draco (since apparently, being rich must equal to being intelligent) or, god forbid, Snape (because he’s a teacher and teachers are meant to be clever).

Soooo, I could go the loooooong way and pull out all the receipts that prove that none of these characters are perfectly intellectually matched to Hermione…

Or I could go the long way and simply give you this: this obsession with finding an “intellectual equal” for Hermione reflects the mentality of “women are not allowed to be better at something than their husband”.

Yep.

A woman has to be all-around pretty good at everything, whereas a man has to be the absolute best in his area of greatest competence (surely better than any puny female!) with a help-meet there to compensate for his weaknesses. People are very, very uncomfortable when Ron and Hermione reverse this dynamic. Hermione is extremely intelligent and dedicated to intellectual pursuits, but is complete pants at things like self-care and people skills. Ron is bright enough to keep up with her and strong in her areas of weakness.

Even if Ron was as dumb as a sack of rocks (he’s not), his other virtues are more than enough to “justify” Hermione loving him. (Because she needs an excuse?) But no. A woman has to be with a man who outdoes her in her area of greatest strength. - credit to @lytefoot

People don’t want Hermione to be with a man who’s her “equal.” They want her to be with a man who can be The Man so she can know the contentment of being The Woman.

But, with this sexist line of thought, how do we justify how Ron is supposed to be such a bad match for Hermione? Because if it was just about mere sexism, Romione would surely be more popular. Imagine! Ron happily raising the children, being a house-husband and proud of it, while Hermione is out there fighting for justice in the wizarding world! What a power-couple, defying norms and gender roles and not being the least bit conscious of it, prime OTP material for sure! So why do people still want Hermione to put Harry, Draco, or god forbid², Snape in Ron’s place? Is this an irrational hatred of redheads? An Harmionian’s delirious wet dream? A failure to separate the actors from their characters?

It’s all this and, quite frankly, something more: the inherent classism that comes with Ron’s status as an explicitly working-class coded character.

I know, I know, “Vivian! Calm down with the buzzwords, you’re starting to sound like an online pretend-feminist magazine!”

Or “Come on, people who don’t ship Ron and Hermione together aren’t all sexist or classist!”

Of course, of course! I know that! I’m not implying that!

But some of the “reasons” why they claim that Ron and Hermione can’t work - are extremely classist in nature, that’s just it!

Come on, think about it! What are the Number Ones arguments people always pull against Ron? Or the most common Ron-bashing tropes (look at fanfics and watch the number of stories that use at least one of those)?

Ron is stupid/mediocre

Ron is lazy/useless

Ron resents his wife’s hard work/success

Ron is a homophobe

Ron is a drunkard

Ron (the big prude who at 16 had never kissed a girl and sees a first kiss as the prelude to a wedding) is massively oversexed and cheats on Hermione with anything that moves

Not only do these “reasons” completely ignore ALL OF RON’S CHARACTERIZATION - except for the “lazy” bit but come off it, all teenagers are lazy and Hermione’s the exception to the rule - but it matches perfectly with the negative stereotypes associated with working-class white men in fiction.

It’s also very funny to note how many (assumedly middle-class or financially secure) fans look down on Ron for being “whiny” or “greedy” when he expresses the desire to have money of his own, or blame his parents for “not knowing when to stop” or “being irresponsible”, or even look down on them for being “too proud to accept help”!! Also how shocked people are when Ron dares to stand up for himself when Hermione or Harry act badly towards him. How dare this country boy not listen to the wisdom of his social “betters”?

So, obviously, because our Heroine can’t go with a Nasty, Mediocre Working-Class Man, she must be paired off with someone of Proper Status: say, a Hero that was raised in a middle-class home and might be a bit psychologically damaged but it’s nothing all those gold coins in his vault can’t fix; or this Rich Posh Aristocrat who actively rooted for her death, he’s a little bit eccentric and has some exotic pet-names to call you, but I’m sure you’ll learn to love him and will unearth the gold coins in his bank account… I mean, the heart of gold that lies within the surface; oh, why not a Way Too Big An Age Difference Teacher if you’re looking for a “cultured man” who has zero things in common with you; we can also bring Convenient Plot Device Famous Rich Foreign Athlete if you want some diversity and you don’t feel original!

But we can’t - oh, we mustn’t let her be with this Terrible Working-Class Boy! His brothers are fine, they have money, they have jobs, so they’re obviously Not As Mediocre. But let our precious Hermione be with this Just-Got-Out-Of-School hooligan? She can’t possibly be in love with him! You’ll see darling, you’ll get bored eventually! He’s too mediocre for you, you deserve a man who outclasses you - I mean, who can provide for you! You’re a fragile little flower who scars people for life when she’s not happy with them, what makes you think that this boy can possibly handle you even though he’s done so for the past seven years?

You wanted it, you got it.

People are shallow, have misconceptions about Ron’s character that they are unwilling to correct or use classist and sexist arguments to try to make it so that either Ron is the Devil himself / Hermione is a higher kind of being that can only orgasm if sufficiently “intellectually stimulated” / what-have-you.

[keyofjetwolf]

Did Mamoru get a raw deal powerwise? In the first season he was a powerhouse. In the second season everyone besides him got a powerup and he no longer stood out. In the third season senshi stronger than him were introduced. In the fourth season everyone got a powerup again and he seemed useless outside of distractions. Judging by the way Rei/Minako arrogantly tried fighting untransformed in Stars, I doubt Rei would even need to transform to beat TuxedoKam anymore. Should he have been given more?

When it comes to fandom discussions, I find, topics are subjective more often than not, coloured by the window we’re looking through, the hooks that catch us, and the demands of our heart. For example, to even think to ask the question, you have to be invested in Mamoru to a particular degree. And I know this is true, because oh man is “should Mamoru have been given more?” a place I would NEVER have gone.

I mean, short answer? Hell fucking no. I don’t want to see Mamoru getting a even a scrap more until Pluto and Hotaru are more than Sailor Plot Device. And still not then, if we’re being completely honest, because I’m not here for Mamoru. I’m able to find some degree of peace with him in the anime (and PGSM, sometimes), but most of the time I find he’s something to be endured, just an unfortunate cost of doing business with the characters I DO love.

AND DON’T GET ME STARTED ON THE MANGA. (She said, fully gearing up to rail about the manga.) Which I think you may actually be referencing? I’m wracking my brain, and I can’t think of where in the anime you’d pull “Rei’Minako arrogantly tried fighting untransformed in Stars”. If we’re talking manga, I’m DEFINITELY not the girl to put this question to, since in my view, the only character who regularly gets to DO SHIT is Mamoru, outshining even Usagi, for fuck’s sake. The thought that Manga Mamoru should get more makes me physically recoil.

SO YEAH. I can’t come with you on this magical journey, Anon. I’m wholly and completely here for the girls. The only change I’d be interested in as far as Mamoru is concerned is plucking him out of the story altogether.

Also, yes, Rei can beat Mamoru without transforming, but she’d rather he just go on midnight runs for convenience store snacks at her whim. (Which he does, and so, peace reigns.)

[dickstailcoat]

So, I’m finally near the end again of SNS 1 (who needs sleep anyways) and I already have thoughts when comparing it to later stories he has written, be it in the SNS series or entirely new ones. I’ll provide a more thorough in-depth analysis once my notes are organized and I don’t have to deal with my day-job, but here’s a huge observation that I already see in book 1:

Rob is way in over his head.

From the get-go, we see a feminist character who is not as inclusive as many readers would like to think or feel. Repeatedly, she body shames herself, as if this is all women think about when considering their appearances, and judges other women for their ideals. She defies expectations of women, yet bows down to a man, ignoring that strong pillar of her personality. She preaches inclusivity yet shuns other women in the story who are bound by society and literally have no choice. There is something strange about her, as if she is a hero, but not one who knows the depths of the problems she faces, or the consequences of what her actions might bring.

In layman’s terms: throughout the story, there is just something off.

Eventually, the plot dwindles into some far-off abyss (let’s be honest, since book 2, the plot has gone south), and we get a more and more superficial character who appears to be all over the place in her ideals and morale, and less and less a strong woman. As a consequence, we see that core pillar of her personality, being a feminist, disappear.

This is when as the reader, if you take a critical eye to it, you realize what that ‘something’ is. She reminds you of your brother, father, uncle, grandfather, boyfriend, husband, and male friend. She knows the issues exist, she sees them, she can critically assess them, she even constantly makes light of them, but she doesn’t truly experience them fully as all women do.

Now, I’m a clown myself who often tries to make light of situations; however, I know even I will break sometimes because being a woman sometimes really sucks. I know Lilly hasn’t experienced sexual assault like many have, but she has experienced restrictions and worry over what will happen to her if she doesn’t conform to the expectations. I’m living in an very open society, and I still feel anxious, nervous, and upset over that. I still sometimes feel sad because there will always be a man saying I can’t. This happens to her too – repeatedly – and she barely bats an eye. But, she is a female character, so why doesn’t she?

The reason for this is simple: Rob is a man, and can never fully comprehend the true worries, fears, and issues women faced now, let alone then when they were much more severe.

As you read on, you begin to wonder as a reader: whose voice is this? Is it the author’s or Lilly’s? It is normal for an author to put a little bit of themselves in a character, sometimes even more so! But there is a problem when it is a man doing it to a female character. We start to see the mix of ideals and experiences; we start to see the boundary where a male writer cannot grasp what women go through on a day-to-day basis.

That would be fine initially, perhaps, for any new author. Why should we limit artistic expression? But it starts to blur into the reader’s perspective as to whether Rob himself feels this way. Because in this story, it is one single ‘joke’, and is never dealt with - not once - properly. We don’t know for an absolute fact if he himself feels this way, he’s never made it clear! But it starts to look worse and worse as the stories go on and women are less and less powerful except when they are needed to bring the reader back in from the lost plot, as if to say “Hey look! I do care sometimes!”

The result is an author writing about inclusivity, but instead, it comes across as discriminative. We have a single flat tone, as if someone is pressing a C note throughout the story, and never progressing. I don’t know about you guys, but if Taylor Swift played one single note for her entire career, none of us would be listening. It stays there the entire time, a ruler-straighter tonality of constant comedy, turning and warping the inclusivity into cheap plot devices, and mental walls for the readers that he has to shakily try to break every so often.

With that in mind, after a few books the author’s ‘colours’ start to show if this continues.

I started this series way back in the age of the dinosaurs, and adored it. I still do! I have nothing against the stories themselves or characters, I love me a good Victorian romance, but my goodness – the way the subject matter is dealt with is practically insulting of late!

I decided to go back to SNS 1, and look at it critically, as if I’m back in uni trying to dissect Shakespeare. Worryingly, it’s already visible in book 1, and is excused repeatedly with commentary by the author using what I like to call ‘false empathy’.  An Instagram commenter recently mentioned that A/Ns are unprofessional, and I agree, I think they’re dangerous. It is better to be upfront in the Prelude or Foreword, or shameless about the fact that you don’t care (G.R Martin, anyone?) because this starts to add the author’s view. With Rob constantly trying to excuse things, it makes everyone question things more and more – although perhaps in light of recent events, this is a good thing.

The fact of the matter is, at the end of the day, “This was how it was in the time” is not an excuse to have the main female character constantly beat her appearance and dismiss other female characters whilst her own personality is diminished. It tricks readers into thinking a male author cares - but does he? Can he? Will he ever truly understand?

Probably not, it’s impossible.

However, this doesn’t mean he needs to stop, and that I despise his stories (okay, maybe a little bit 😉). It means he needs to change. It can’t be ‘this is what happened and this is how it was’. It needs to be this is how it was, this is what happened, this is how it felt, and this is it’s impact. It means he needs to read a book on feminism and issues women experience. It means he needs to ask women to gain a view as to how these things actually feel, and to gain insight into how it’s not something to make a 24/7 joke out of for multiple years. He needs to read up on how those who do not fit the particular ‘box’ of discrimination he is dealing with tend to not like it when you constantly make fun of it tactlessly. There are ways to go about it, you can be funny and deal with serious issues.

Instead, Rob has chosen (and I mean chosen, the OG fandom has been trying for years to message and help this get fixed) to continue on this flatlining path where the star of our story is turned into a joke and a male stereotype of women. It is a shame, because Lilly is pretty damn cool, but he conveniently plucks that core principle out of her as the books go on, until she is eventually a husk whose only purpose is to be funny.  

In case you guys ever wondered why the OG fandom stopped reading, stopped being active on the content, and why we only post memes and have turned these two into a running joke, but still keep original Lilly in our quotes, this is why.

[nettlestonenell]

Enola Holmes in Review

Gentle Readers:

1.       I did not plan to watch Enola Holmes

2.       I do not/have not watched Stranger Things, and my entire concept of Millie Bobby Brown as a human is encapsulated in the occasional errant tumblr post, and a line of eyewear she apparently has created, posters for which hang at my glasses-provider.

3.       I had never heard of the YA novels about Enola Holmes

There she is!

Yes, I do tend to enjoy nearly any incarnation of Sherlock Holmes. And, yes, I am often surprised by this fact. For some reason, Holmes, unlike, say, Chris Evans as Cap or Chris Hemsworth as Thor [instances where I can’t really imagine enjoying anyone else in the role] I am always interested to see someone else’s [writer and actor and director]’s take on him. *Subtle shout-out to James D’Arcy’s 2002 turn in A Case of Evil.

Mr. Jarvis! [and there was Vincent D’Onofrio and opium!!]

And yet, watching the Enola Holmes trailer [no doubt b/c of tumblr], and yes, admittedly not unmoved [we are not made of stone] by Cavill’s Curls™ the delight I felt in watching that advert led me to start informing my family that on September 23rd what I was going to be doing was enjoying Enola Holmes on Netflix [and anyone else was free to join me].

Someone important is missing from this picture

And what a delight it was. In the run-up to its debut I read more than a few reviews of the film [and, I think, every one of them written by men], some of which struck me as simply coming from a place of mean-spiritedness, yet none—even the positive reviews—preparing me for how ENJOYABLE this film is.

I’m not going to provide a full review point-by-point here, b/c the film involves cases to be solved (no, none of them are overwhelmingly complex—YA novel--, so all the more reason not to spoil any pay-offs). But I do have some things to talk about.

THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM – And what a nice, nice elephant it is! Henry Cavill as Holmes is, in my opinion an absolute delight of a performance. From the moment he first says Enola’s name (a perfectly-rendered reaction to the moment playing out) this Holmes fits into this Greatest Showman-like version of Victorian England, where no one’s too dirty no matter how poor, and where despite a flaming red dress, cut too low for daytime wear, young Enola is never once mistaken for a working girl. [Again, YA novel] As other reviewers have noted, HC is, well, Cut and Bulked Out, and in his highly tailored frock coats well, strapping is too light a description word. *not a complaint. Cavill’s Curls are out and proud and here to tell us that we are meant to be Having Fun, and Gentle Readers—THEY DO NOT LIE.

No, not a priest’s collar where he is undercover (though I had thought so)

In fact, you could absolutely write your thesis statement on this film, that it’s really a fraternal, familial love story between Sherlock and Enola. Sherlock is the character during the two hours that actually changes. [Yes, Enola comes to an understanding about herself, and her circumstances change repeatedly—but it is Sherlock who experiences a Change of Heart/Reversal]. 

Raise your hand if you’re totally here for significantly older brother/significantly youngest sister family love!

HOW I WOULD DESCRIBE IT – This might in no way be helpful, but, Enola Holmes is basically The Young Indiana Jones Chronicles...

Where have you gone, Sean Patrick Flanery?

a YA historical storyline that’s written adjacent to [there, famous people] here, enduring fictional characters. It’s adventurous and pleasantly immersive, historical morays are given a slap-dash portrayal, rather than a fully-accurate representation, there’s adventures to be had, and side-characters to be converted into caring about the title character as much as we, the audience, do.

LUCY HONEYCHURCH – Yes, that gorgeous girl from Windy Corner. The timeline doesn’t jibe, but I daresay Helena Bonham Carter (back in a corset—though she may have worn those for Bellatrix) as Eudoria Holmes *IS* what Lucy Honeychurch might well have become beyond A Room with a View’s end. Bonham Carter looks absolutely at home here (period films have sorely missed her! –she had a part in 2015’s Suffragette), and still wears the trappings of Victorian England like a second skin. 

Not to mention that she now join my personal comfort-list of on-screen mothers with the likes of 1997’s Little Women Susan Sarandon and Cinderella’s Hayley Atwell.

FAMILY ISSUES OR PLOT HOLES? 

It’s a fair question. There’s a lot going on in this plot, some of which...seem solvable. Why has it been so very long since the Holmes brothers have seen their own mother? And sister? How could the woman we come to know as Eudoria raise a Mycroft? [see also, Molly Weasley?] Why aren’t people who seem to care about Enola more engaged with saving her from all the dangers London throws in her way? Why does Enola accept several acts of violence aimed at her, why does she in certain instances Do What She Is Told? Rather than chalk these up to plot holes or convenient devices, I’m siding with the Holmes family being dysfunctional [who knows what dad was like? We’re certainly not told here]. 

[clears throat]

The conversations between Mycroft and Sherlock barely skim the surface of any subject they interact on. Classic dysfunction: distancing one’s true self from human interaction b/c keeping the peace supersedes all else.

Enola accepts certain treatments b/c if we really do watch her relationship with her mother, there is an element of something amiss—as I will declare the later abandonment shows. Enola is a child used to being elevated and celebrated on one hand, and shut out and isolated on the other. Her parent has informed her about so much, but essentially locked her away in a false reality, where Enola is not taken to see the world, nor taught how to interact in it (which is explicitly stated). Perhaps it is not so surprising that the Holmes’ brothers have not cared overly much for visiting their remaining family. And when repeatedly confronted with a minor child (and yet a child likely though old enough or about so, to be married off) being forced to endure things diametrically opposed to her will—the brothers’ reactions are stoic, the system they accept as to how life must be lived immoveable and morally right simply by its very existence.

MILLIE BOBBY BROWN – THE STAR – In what has to be an Emmy-nomination-deserving turn, MBB is nothing short of wholly in charge of the screen. She never overpowers the story. She’s as loveable as Sandra Bullock in While You Were Sleeping, and as ready for her closeup as Jennifer Lawrence in The Hunger Games. As another review mentioned, she handles the 4th wall breaks in such as way as we look forward to the next time she’s going to talk to us. We ache with her sorrow for her lost mom, and rage with her at the adults in her life choosing wrongly for her future—or simply not choosing at all.

A random observation, but one that feels important to me: her HAIR. Yes! They’ve managed to make a late Victorian-era film where the heroine’s hair looks like real hair that someone really styled (or in some scenes, didn’t). And yet, where the hair looks proper for the time. [wild applause]

COMPLAINTS: Well, in honesty there aren’t any. If you want to complain that there isn’t any dirt, that the evil of the world (I mean, c’mon, this is narrowly post-Dickensian London, here) is neutered, that the adults in question seem neither alarmed enough or emboldened enough at either their mother or sister being missing and possibly out of their depths in a dangerous society without protection, and in Enola’s case real-world skills--? Well, I’m certainly not going to disagree with you. This is YA Victorian London, after all, not Ripper Street. There is also neither a hint of or actual threat of sexual violence at any point in the film. But the lack of that has preserved us from having to sit through that, as well as no doubt lectures about how Enola’s virtue might be spoilt and she might become useful to no man.

The relationships are appropriate, too. Despite strides between Enola and certain adults in the film, by the time the credits roll they’re not showing physical affection toward each other (a move that would have seemed over-the-top), and teen relationships are shown progressing at a reasonable and mutedly awkward pace.

Now, Netflix, green-light me five more films (or more). There’s still a new version of John Watson to meet, after all!

[ladykissingfish]

Bedtime with the Akatsuki (Part 1/2)

Pein Nagato worked hard to put together the group known as the Akatsuki, but he works even harder to keep them all together. It’s difficult, considering the group contains so many clashing sets of personalities, so many different desires and beliefs. Nagato has read before that sharing a meal can foster a sense of bonding and communication within a group of diverse people, so he makes it a rule that whoever is home in the evenings must sit together at the table and share dinner together. The others balked at this at first, but after several first disastrous attempts (and several wonderful meals put forth by Konan) it quickly became something everyone looked forward to. For an hour, negativity could be dropped, rivalries and grudges temporarily forgotten as the group broke bread with one another. The Pein-body doesn’t eat, but Nagato listens through him, and is able to see these people that he chose to serve his cause, as PEOPLE. After dinner, after making sure that everyone is clear on the next day’s upcoming missions, the Pein-body goes to his room, and shuts down for the evening; and Nagato spends the night in much-needed sleep. Sasori Sasori doesn’t eat, so unless he’s feeling particularly bored/in want of some company, he won’t join the others for dinner. Sasori partakes in bathing rituals every night, although not in the way an organic human does; he keeps himself clean with scented wood-centric polishes. He’s surprisingly vain of his red hair, and will comb/wash and dry, with real shampoos, each night. Also spends a lot of time cleaning up Hiroku, as this is the main form that everybody sees him in. What’s “bedtime”? This man/boy/puppet doesn’t sleep. However, if asked Sasori would state that nighttime is his favorite time of the day. Everybody else is either asleep or on an overnight mission, meaning the hideout is quiet and Sasori can work on his puppets uninterrupted. If he knows that he and his partner have a mission coming up the next morning, he will sit with the maps and carefully plot out the quickest, most convenient route for them to take to reach their destination. During the long night, or during a lull in his work, Sasori might pause and go outside, sitting on a tree stump and staring up at the inky sky. Evenings remind him of happier times with his grandmother, who used to tell him stories about the Gods who resided amongst the stars. Foolish, maybe, and made-up, obviously; but still immensely satisfying to a little boy who needed to be distracted from the pain of missing his mother and father. Sometimes Sasori will be joined by the insomniac Itachi, and the two will sit quietly side by side, both lost in their own thoughts (but grateful for the company). Deidara Besides being young, there’s another reason why Deidara is so slender; he barely eats as much as he should, or when he should, or WHAT he should. If left to his own devices at night, the kid will sit on his bed and eat snacks. Chips, candies, pastries; Deidara has almost as bad a proclivity for sweets and junk food as Tobi, although he would never admit this. If it’s one of the fabled Family Dinner™️ nights, he will join the others ... but between him and Hidan fighting to make their voices the loudest at the table, neither gets much food into their mouths (which is a shame, because whatever Konan makes is always delicious). Beauty like Deidara’s doesn’t just happen; it takes a lot of meticulous prep work and a very disciplined routine to keep the blonde looking the way he does. While he saves the majority of his work for the morning, one thing he can’t neglect in the evenings is his hair. Dividing the locks into sections, combing, oiling, and brushing until it shines; by the end Deidara’s arms feel ready to fall off ((again)), but it’s worth it. He also takes care of his eyes; nobody knows this but Deidara has suffered from severe dry eye since he was a kid. He puts in eye drops each night, and gently massages the muscle to keep them vital. As he goes through his routines, he (very softly) sings. To the others,

he’s always maintained that he doesn’t remember anything about his parents; but in reality, he can vividly remember his mother. And mom liked to sing. Before bed he also likes to get in some exercise (push-ups mostly, as he’s trying to strengthen his arms back up). If he’s in a rare good mood, he’ll allow Tobi to sit on his floor and talk to him for a bit. He’s been made to work with this guy for a while, and he stills knows almost nothing about him. Sometimes Deidara thinks he’s just a simple-minded buffoon, but sometimes he seems like ... more. Sometimes the veil is lifted and Deidara sees glimpses of a very different Tobi. A calm Tobi, a quiet Tobi. A Tobi who had a damn brain on his head. Sometimes Deidara thinks that the guy might be — but then the idiocy comes back in full force and Deidara just sighs and tells the kid to go to bed. It takes FOREVER for the artist to fall asleep (his thoughts are always racing so fast that it’s hard for him to shut them off entirely), but once he does, he’s down for the count. He’s learned the hard way that when he sleeps he has to wear gloves on both hands, because the mouths on Lefty and Righty have the unfortunate habit of drooling, and Deidara doesn’t like waking up in a soggy mess. He’s also learned that he has to lock his door, or he risks the chance of being visited by prankster Hidan or Mr. I-Had-A-Nightmare-Senpai-Can-I-Sleep-With-You- Tobi. Itachi Itachi is not much one for eating a big meal at night ... well, at ANY time, really. He can be coaxed by Kisame or Konan to eat snatches of things at the beginning or end of dinner, but you’ll never see this guy with a full plate (or a full belly). After “dinner”, one of the few joys in the young brunette’s life is an occasional nightly bath ((as opposed to his normal routine of morning showers)). Steaming hot water, scented oils, time to wash his hair and moisturize his face — the only time anybody has ever seen Itachi lose his cool calmness was the time that Tobi broke the bathtub and Itachi couldn’t take a single night-bath for the week. But as for sleep, well; Itachi has been existing off of three hours a night, MAX, since before he’d even joined the Akatsuki. Nobody can figure out how he lives like this, unless the Sharingan gives the guy some sort of magical staying-awake powers. And to make matters worse, he’s an ultra-light slumberer; even the tiniest of noises will have his eyes wide open and his ears straining in the darkness to identify possible danger or threats. To compensate for the lack of good rest, Itachi will spend a good deal of time BEFORE laying down in meditation. Being able to put his mind fully at ease, even if he can’t achieve the same for his body, is what keeps him from going completely insane. Although he doubts that the others care about his well-being, in truth everybody expresses some mild concern for Itachi’s worrisome habits. Kisame has even approached Sasori, who is a master herbalist, about making a sleeping pill that he could slip into Itachi’s nightly cup of tea. Sasori won’t do it, because he has no desire to drug his fellow teammate — but he IS working on a tea variant itself that might help Itachi catch a few more Zzz’s per night.