#and the two times he had free reign to really be his WORSE SELF (demon dean and MOC) he was. pretty fucking tame

[angelsdean]

seeing dean takes i disagree with: no, no, no, no, no, no, no. oh, mamma mia, mamma mia, mamma mia, let me go (let me gooooooo)

[dudeandduchess]

Giyuu x F!S/O: Love Me (Angst, SFW Scenario)

Summary: Dealing with stress and bloodshed had become something of a norm for Giyuu. Saving people from demons was something he did on a daily basis, yet he couldn’t save the only living person— who mattered to him— from her own self; and that was a fate that was worse than dealing with death. Note: Some self-deprecating and woe is me angst for Biz. Just because. Word Count: 1,675

Warnings: Angst, Self-Deprecating Thoughts, Implications of Depression, Implications of Body Dysmorphia, Tears, Lots of Tears, Implications of Character Death

***

Silence was something that Giyuu had always construed as something good and relaxing. Even in his younger days, he valued the sound of silence that wrapped around his estate— blanketing everything with a sense of serenity that harped at the frayed edges of his worn heart.

He was the type of man who valued silence above all else, but not when it made his chest tighten with fear.

“I’m home,” The Water Hashira had announced softly the moment he entered his modest-sized home. He then closed the shoji behind him, exhaling softly as he tried to let go of all the tension he felt after his last mission.

However, the prolonged quiet that answered his call made a chill run down his spine; not for the eeriness that it carried, but because of the implications that it carried.

“(Y/n)?” He called again— trying to keep his voice steady, yet failing to do so when it hitched at the tail end of his lover’s name.

Haphazardly, Giyuu kicked his sandals off, practically tearing down the hall as he checked each and every room that he passed by. There was no trace of her anywhere, not even the engawa where she usually sat, which had fear gripping the Hashira’s heart even tighter.

He could barely speak— could barely even breathe— as his feet carried him throughout the house. The more doors that he opened, the sparser his breaths came— until he was close to dry heaving when he opened the bedroom door.

The familiar sight of his lover’s hair greeted him, and eased the panic that had started to set in him; only to be replaced with heartache when he took in the full sight before him.

Glass shards from the mirrors were scattered all over the tatami, clothes were ripped and strewn about, and most of their belongings laid there in the aftermath of destruction that no one would have been able to think that (Y/n) was capable of doing.

And there she sat in the middle of the carnage, with her yukata falling off one shoulder and her hair in complete disarray— as if she had pulled on it numerous times already. Her hands gripped her exposed thighs so tightly that angry red lines had started to appear on the skin where her nails slowly raked themselves over.

“(Y/n)…”

Slowly, the young woman looked up at the sound of her name— only to look away when she saw that it was Giyuu whom had called her. She tried to blink her tears away, yet they only increased as the memory of her lover’s heartbroken and worried expression played in her mind.

She wanted to speak, to tell him to run as far away as possible from her— to let her waste away in the toxic prison that was her own mind— yet the words never came. No matter how many times she tried to open her mouth, the heavy feeling that came with repressing a sob overtook everything else; rendering her completely speechless, as her breaths came out in soft but ragged pants.

“Leave me alone,” (Y/n) finally managed to say, albeit too soft and too broken for her own liking.

Still, Giyuu stepped further into the room— artfully avoiding all of the glass that littered the floor. And when he finally managed to reach (Y/n), he sat down in front of her— resisting the urge to succumb to his own tears when he caught sight of the pair of scissors that she tried to hide with her legs.

His eyes darted up to her hair, really taking the sight of it in in the dim light, and realizing with such a heavy heart that she had hacked off a good chunk of the beautiful hair that he loved so much.

Before he could stop himself, he reached out and managed to brush his fingertips against the young woman’s left cheek— only to have her slap his hand away.

“I told you to leave me alone!” She screeched at him, her tears flowing even more that they had before, and her chest heaving up and down so hard with the anger that she tried to reign in— for his sake, because she knew that she had already hurt him enough. “Leave!”

Giyuu was so tired of dealing with the same problems on different days; he was tired of dealing with (Y/n), and the only solution was to leave her— yet he couldn’t find it in his heart to be rid of her, not because she was a charity case, but because he loved her too much to do that to her.

He could have had any woman that he wanted, yet his heart only wanted to be with the woman whom was slowly crumbling in front of him. And it killed him inside to know that there was nothing he could do to keep her whole.

No amount of words or love were enough to calm her down, and it had become an endless cycle for her to launch herself into the deepest trenches of her mind— especially when he was gone for long periods of time.

The longer that he was gone, the worse she got as paranoia set inside her. Her own insecurities gnawed at her because she thought herself to be beneath Giyuu; and that she was sure that he was better off without her.

“No,” The Hashira answered firmly, yet his tears contradicted the strength of his words, while he reached out once more and gently cupped her face in his right hand. “Never.”

At the feel of Giyuu’s touch, (Y/n)’s façade crumbled in front of him. Her anger towards herself was still there, but her sadness came to the forefront of things and reared its ugly head as she clung to his wrist and doubled over. Sobs wracked her entire body, making her feel so weak and small as she forced herself to look up at him.

Her hands tightened around his wrist, and she pressed her cheek further against his palm, yet her words contradicted her actions. “I’m not good enough for you. I’m so sorry, Giyuu. I’m sorry I’m like this— I’m sorry that I’m so fucked up.”

She was fully aware of what she had been doing to herself, yet she saw no end in the dark abyss that was her mind. There was no reprieve for her, and definitely no mercy on her own psyche as the days ticked by.

With every passing moment, she got worse and worse— tearing her own self down, to the point where she had begun to starve herself just to fit into her own idea of what beautiful was supposed to be like.

If only she saw herself through Giyuu’s eyes, then she’d know just how highly he regarded her; not only did he love her looks, but her overall demeanor— her warmth and happiness on the good days, her immense love for him, and the joy that she found in the smallest of things.

Those good days were far and few in-between, but they made up for the constant darkness that plagued both of them. It was a slice of reprieve for both of their tired minds— yet it was always short-lived and abrupt.

On the good days, Giyuu was free to imagine what life would be like for them in the future; but on the bad days, all he could do was hold her and pray to all the gods that they would have another tomorrow to spend together.

Carefully, he pulled her up into his arms, holding her tightly as she tried to make herself smaller. It hurt Giyuu that she was shying away from his touch, yet he pushed his own feelings aside and focused on her— because she was what mattered.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry,” (Y/n) kept whispering through her tears, settling for placing her hands in her lap and gripping the parted hem of her yukata tightly in her hands. “I’m sorry, Giyuu.”

However, when the Hashira leaned down to press his lips to the top of her head, the image before him— until his eyes snapped open, to the view of his ceiling being illuminated by the first vestiges of dawn.

Silence rang through inside the Water Hashira’s estate, bringing with it a chilling sense of loneliness— especially when Giyuu stretched his left arm out and felt the cold, empty space that he still reserved for (Y/n).

In the end, despite all the love and care he lavished upon her, it still wasn’t enough to keep her with him forever.

“I can’t do it anymore. I’m sorry, Giyuu.” The heartbroken words echoed inside his head, making him close his eyes in an effort to drown out the unsettling words she’d said to him last.

His heart ached with all of the emotions he held suppressed inside him, as his right hand lifted itself up to his chest and pressed down on the sore spot where his heart was still breaking.

Two years later, and it was as if the scar that (Y/n) had left on his heart was still fresh as ever.

Despite trying to hold it back, Giyuu felt tears prick the backs of his eyes, until they were falling in a steady stream down his face.

Silence was something he’d always construed as something good and relaxing, but not when it meant that he was all alone again.

“I miss you everyday, (Y/n).”

[leviathanswingman]

Love Is a Losing Game, Chapter 3: The Compromise

As soon as the door to Lucifer's chambers closed behind them Asmo practically jumped his brother.

„Who is it?!“ he exclaimed excitedly as he tilted his head in anticipation like a curious puppy and clung to Lucifer's arm. „Oh- oh oh oh! Wait don't tell me, let me guess, please! This hasn't happened in decades!“

Lucifer plucked Asmo's clinging hands off his arm and leaned against his desk, crossing his arms as he kept his eyes on his giddy brother. He was still feeling slightly nauseous, but the short walk to his room had helped alleviate at least some of it.

There was a playful sparkle to Asmodeus' eyes, yet underlying, one could tell that he had an agenda. In an act of false thoughtfulness Asmodeus tapped his lush lips multiple times with his pointer. “Now who could it be? Who would be sexy enough to make Lucifer, the poster demon of restraint, buckle? Hmmm, I wonder,” Asmo started, apparently having a death wish on his mind. With small steps, he tiptoed around the mahogany desk in a manner so gracefully he almost appeared to be floating.

“A one-night stand, maybe?”

Lucifer tried to suppress a shudder. Bulls eye. Still, his little brother didn't need to know that. So Lucifer simply readjusted his position, his body all sharp edges and steel. His jaw was locked tight as he observed the way Asmodeus flaunted through the room. All of a sudden Asmo stopped next to Lucifer, eyes big with shock.

“It can't be... Barbatos?!” he exclaimed in outrage. “I mean I understand the allure of some good butler and servant play, but don't tell me you fucked- ow ow OW!”

Finally done with Asmodeus' shenanigans, Lucifer had grabbed his brother roughly by the ear. “Stop joking around, Asmodeus. I did not, as you put it ever so crudely, fornicate with Barbatos. Now would you do me a favour and stay out of my private life? I am sure you have more important things to do.” He let go again and Asmodeus complained quietly as he rubbed his earlobe.

“But I wanna know, this never happens! It's not my fault I was born this gorgeous and curious, so come on!”

Lucifer stayed stoic. Hell would have to freeze over several times before he would admit to Asmodeus that he had slept with Diavolo only for their honoured demon prince to sneak out in the morning light as if the night had meant nothing to him. And this was the one thing Lucifer was ever so certain about- the night had meant something, but only to him.

This was why he used to be so keen on keeping things professional between him and Diavolo. He knew that in the end, one of them would end up regretting it. In the end, he had at least been right about that fact.

“Practice some self-restraint,” Lucifer stated. His arms were once again crossed in front of his chest. As he thought back to the previous night, inexplicably his right hand, tucked safely between his side and the back of his upper arm, startled to tremble and almost violently, the feeling of nausea returned.

“Well, it looks like you haven't been doing that either, so why should I?” Asmodeus threw in, followed by an uncomfortable silence that filled the room.

He took Lucifer's lack of response as an unspoken invitation to keep on talking. “So my first guess was clearly wrong, but I don't think you would just go with your everyday bar bunny looking for a quick fling. That isn't your type. Your type would be...” Suddenly, Asmodeus' head snapped up. “Your type is-”

Without any hesitation Lucifer slapped his hand onto Asmo's mouth. He knew Asmodeus knew. Or at least, he was aware of Lucifer's preferences.

Still, Lucifer felt sick to his stomach. He had let his brother ramble on for far too long, but Lucifer had needed the time to calm his body down again. Nausea was running through his every core, green like envy and red like an angry sore.

He just knew he couldn't stand to hear it coming from someone else's mouth, put out into the world without his consent, yanking the reigns from Lucifer's hands.

If someone else were to vocalize that Lucifer loved Diavolo, not in the way a subject should love their lord, but in a way that was reserved for solely the closest of companions , it would make the whole ordeal undeniably real.

Lost in thought, Lucifer had completely forgotten that he was still clutching his little brother's mouth shut. He received a rude awakening as Asmodeus suddenly licked the palm of Lucifer's hand. Surprised, Lucifer let go of Asmo and shook his hand as his eyebrows drew together in disgust. “Asmodeus, this is revolting.”

“You started it!”

Lucifer felt his attention slipping again.

Although he hated to admit it, on their way from the dining hall to his own room he hadn't found an appropriate excuse to get Asmodeus off his tracks. When it was about love, infidelities, one night stands and generally most things lust-related, Asmodeus couldn't be fooled and Lucifer wasn't delusional enough to believe that he could out-smart the avatar of lust when the subjects of conversation were love and lust themselves. After all, Lucifer was sure it wouldn't take Asmodeus all too long to figure out what was going on here.

He had to be tactical with this one so he could keep the upper hand.

Right now, Asmodeus knew something he wasn't supposed to know to begin with, all due to Lucifer's own negligence. Ergo, Asmodeus had insider knowledge that could be good leverage for his own interests. This exactly was something Lucifer couldn't afford right now. The past few weeks, Asmo had been even more unhinged than usual. Lucifer had threatened him with house arrest and cleaning duty already, but neither had worked.

So he had gone and discussed the issue with Barbatos. Together, they had come to the conclusion that a few months away from the big city, just Asmodeus, two elderly demons and an old farm would do him some good.

Suddenly, the wheels started to turn in Lucifer's head.

He had found his solution. Admittedly, it wasn't optimal and Lucifer had to give up a little bit of his privacy and pride as an older brother, but if it were to work out like he knew it had to, he could manage to hit two birds with one stone.

For a moment Lucifer thought it over again. He rounded the mahogany desk, put his hands flat on its surface and leaned forward, staring at Asmodeus.

„Feel free to guess who I've had relations with, but keep in mind, your freedom right now is in my hands,“ Lucifer slowly said after a moment of strange silence. „You have been awfully active these last few weeks now, haven't you?“

Asmodeus threw himself sideways over one of the chairs and side-eyed his brother. He tilted his head back and sighed dramatically. „So we're going straight to business without any foreplay? How boring!“ After another short pause, Asmodeus mustered his brother. „You really don't want to tell me what happened?“ he asked with an uncharacteristically serious expression.

Lucifer leaned forward and ignored his brother's previous question. „I have a deal for you. We both know I won't let you run around as you please anymore.  You are aware that I have been keeping a close eye on your behaviour and you have disappointed me severely. You have a reputation to uphold, yet you refuse to be responsible and instead spend your nights getting acquainted with every club in the city. Originally, Barbatos and I had decided on sending you away for a few months. The farms do need some helping hands this season, don't you think?”

Asmodeus' eyes widened almost unnoticeably, but he didn't interject. He needed his nights out, he needed them like a human needed oxygen. There was no way they would send him away, right?

Asmodeus grabbed Lucifer by his upper arms and looked at him with pleading eyes. “Please, not the ranch! I know my powers are good with animals, but the air over there will be downright toxic for my skin! Just thinking about it makes me break out, Lucifer please-”

Lucifer raised one finger, quieting his little brother in the process. “I have a proposal for you. If you don't want me to send you away, you will listen,” Lucifer growled.

Staring up at his big brother's stony expression, Asmodeus simply nodded as he felt his heart race in his chest. Anxiety was coursing through his body and he was desperate, desperate enough to do anything Lucifer asked of him as long as he didn't have to give up that lavish lifestyle of his. As long as he wouldn't end up isolated somewhere in the wilderness, left to his own devices and even worse, left to his own thoughts.

“I am giving you one week on probation. If you manage to tone down your excessive partying and won't spread any information whatsoever about my supposed sex life, I will show mercy and humour you. I will humour you just once. If the week proves successful, I will grant you one question. You will be allowed to ask me one question which I will have to answer, no matter the subject of the matter. If you refuse to agree things will go as originally planned and a car will be waiting for you tomorrow morning at 8am sharp, ready to accompany you to the farm. Any questions?”

In the split of a second Asmodeus' worried thoughts screeched to a halt.

This was the exact moment he realized that this was so much more than him teasing Lucifer about a hookup. This was so much more than him trying to reason with his big brother so he wouldn't be sent away for his own outrageous behaviour. This was Lucifer doing damage control. If Asmodeus managed to survive this week, he would receive a get out of jail free card; he had a promise that he could ask Lucifer about what was bothering him so much to the point of blackmail, had a promise that he wouldn't be turned down for once.

Asmodeus had the choice between constant misery away from all he loved and cherished and a week of restraining himself to reach the truth. Just like that, he knew what he had to do.

“No questions,” he answered as he softened his grip on Lucifer's arms. “I agree to your terms.” His arms dropped to his sides as he took a deep breath before slathering on a big smile. “Tomorrow I'm going to a mixer, is that alright within our terms, dearest chaperone?” he questioned, his voice drowning with artificial honey and sweetness.

As he raised an eyebrow Lucifer slowly nodded his head. “It is good to see you cooperate, but I fear I will have to accompany you. If you do not feel comfortable with that I will have to send Barbatos to chaperone you.”

Asmo scoffed. “Yeah, no thank you. Barbatos can be a terrible killjoy when he's following orders.”  All of a sudden, Asmodeus threw his hands around Lucifer's neck, hugging him tightly. “I'd rather choose my precious big brother after all!”

Lucifer stiffened and pushed his little brother off of him after a few seconds. Once again, he felt his stomach turn over multiple times. It took him all he had not to falter to his knees right then and there. “That's enough, Asmo,” he forced out. “We are done here, you can leave. Just remember our agreement.”

Before he stepped out, Asmodeus flashed his brother another one of his blinding smiles. “See you tomorrow, Lucifer! I'm looking forward to it!”

The door slammed shut and Lucifer dropped down to his knees, gripping at the fabric of his shirt. Even though everything had gone according to plan, he felt fickle and broken, his knees were trembling for no reason whatever as his gut filled with acid.

Ever since he had awoken in-between cold sheets, Lucifer felt as if his body had aged several millennia. Tired bones met tired eyes.

He gave himself no less than a minute before he forced himself up again. With one hand gripping onto the edge of his desk, Lucifer managed to push himself up again.

This was nothing. He was probably experiencing unnecessary psychosomatic pains from having been rejected by the one demon he respected the most, nothing more than that. It simply couldn't be more than that.

After all, he was Lucifer the Morning Star, a demon far too powerful to be moved by something as simple as affection or as difficult as love. Lucifer didn't care for nor lust after neither. He was above all of that. He had to be above all of that.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6 , Chapter 7, Chapter 8,  Chapter 9, Chapter 10

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid 188

188

   Keith woke feeling the best he had in days. Coffee in the air and Lance had moved him to rest his head on his upper leg. He didn’t like face masks. Having his eyebrows waxed brought tears to his eyes. His nails had some kind of clear nail polish on them... but Lance had sent him into a whole other kind of bliss by playing with his hair. He’d found himself rambling, and making weird grunting kind of noises as Lance untangled his hair then started brushing it. After that he was very much a sook. Dazed and dopey, he’d been bopped on the head when he’d missed Lance asking him to help pack his go bag, his boyfriend comparing him to his coffee deprived morning zombie state, giving up asking anything from him other than his shirt to scent the things in his go bag.

  Wanting Lance to feel as blissed as he did, he tried his very hardest as he massaged Lance’s back, legs and feet. He’d failed to really notice how Lance’s feet seemed swollen. His ego felt he’d let Lance down by not noticing how painful it must be for his lover. Lance only mentioned the pain in his back and hips, then his breasts as his milk came in. Oiling Lance up was not without its issues. Lance insisted on wearing a towel around his groin to cover his bits during the massage. Keith didn’t see the point. Lance had a cute arse, which he wasn’t supposed to point out. Watching his boyfriend, he wanted to touch him, yet with his belly on display he felt awful about the nursery and shooting Lance down as he had. Going for an apology blow job, Lance pushing him back with a foot to his shoulder, declaring no touching until he’d had the rest of his pampering.

  His boyfriend was a shit.

  Using the same face mask as Lance, it made Keith’s skin tingle. Lance explaining face masks should be a sometimes treat and all these weird things about toners being bad for skin and coconut oil being even worse. After face masks came a bubble bath, where Keith was forced between Lance’s legs and Lance played with his hair again. The whole thing felt like they were following some kind of unfun torture manual. Self care seemed too much like hard work. After that came a short break, then the wax went on... then the nails were trimmed and painted, then the wax came off and it was not fun. Keith wasn’t sure the what exactly about it brought tears to his eyes, yet he would have preferred to keep his budding monobrow and hairy toe tops. How Lance could possibly seem fine with waxing other places was weird. For a day of pampering, Keith definitely felt he’d feel better about facing a half starved vampire than he would about facing all of this again. Huffy, Lance laughed at his grumbling, rewarding him with head pats, and a braid that Matt pouted over when he came home.

  Whatever his personal thoughts on the matter where, his ego had responded. He felt almost constantly cocky over looking good for their mate. He didn’t think he looked that different. Maybe a few less eyebrow hairs... Noticing he was awake, Lance moved his hand to stroke his hair

“I made you coffee”

Mmm... He was loved. Wriggling closer to Lance, he nosed at his boyfriend’s leg. Lance should have woken him up when he’d gotten up

“You hate the smell”

“Eh, I was throwing up anyway”

He could smell his coffee. It was so close. If he could reach around Lance, he’d have his coffee... but that meant giving up pats

“I thought that’d settled”

“It’s a bit better but yeah, no, this morning I went to have some toast and blargh. I decided to get a few things organised. We’re going to Platt today”

  The idea of pats disappeared with the need for coffee. When Lance got in a mood, he knew better than to try and stop him. Dragging himself up to sit, Lance passed him his coffee, phone in his left hand as his thumb hovered over the screen. With the coffee cool enough to drink, he swallowed it down, grateful for the caffeine and that his boyfriend would withstand the scent for him. Passing the mug back, Lance chose to throw his phone down with a sigh where it landed next to the mug

“Should I ask?”

“I’ve been up since 5”

“What’s the time now?”

“Nearly 8”

  That’s three hours of rest Lance could have been having. Keith groaned at the idea, pulling the blanket up as he curled into Lance

“You should have been resting”

“I had things to do”

No. In Keith’s world it was far too early for those things. Lance should have switched his brain off and accepted cuddles

“Sleep is better”

“Says the lazy werewolf. I’ve booked the accomodation, and talked to Coran. He said he’d see me today and if it’s all good, we can go”

  Keith blinked, his eyes feeling gritty with sleep. He needed more time for the caffeine to kick in

“Babe?”

Humming, Keith couldn’t quite word what he wanted to word, since he didn’t know what he wanted to word. Too many words were coming at him

“I know. I’m terrible. I couldn’t get back to sleep, my head wouldn’t shut up”

“Ugh”

Yep. That summed up his current intelligence

“Pretty much”

  On the table Lance’s phone vibrated. Lance ignoring the device though Keith felt him tense

“Babe?”

“It’s alright. You know how Matt fixed my laptop, I had him figure out how to send those photos to Veronica and now she’s trying to talk to me”

Ah. That explained why Lance couldn’t get back to sleep

“You don’t have to talk to her”

“I know. I want to get a lot done in Platt today, so you’re going to have to get up”

   Lance got another coffee into him, while Keith had forced his boyfriend to drink some blood before they left for Platt. Lance not letting him drive as he’d drank from him, his boyfriend uncomfortable behind the steering wheel. Closing his eyes for the drive, car sickness was apparently not cured by turning into a werewolf. Lance asked him once or twice if he needed to pull over, Keith humming it off. His ego seemed to be like “What the heck is this?”. With Lance wanting to get things done, Keith hoped those things didn’t involve seeing people, not after how his last shopping trip had gone.

  It turned out Lance had that covered. He’d been as busy as he’d said he’d been. First stop was VOLTRON... which was funnily enough Keith’s only stop. He didn’t know why Lance had brought him, only that he was mad as heck when Lance explained, after his scan, that he and Curtis were going shopping, leaving Keith with Shiro and Krolia for the time being. He knew he was useless, yet he couldn’t help feeling lied to. Lance had made it seem as if he wanted to do whatever it was together. That he wanted him around. And that getting whatever it was done, would finally result in them getting to leave Garrison . Instead, his boyfriend had gone off with his friend, leaving him to the mercy of Shiro and his mother, when all he wanted to do was sleep of his nausea.

   *

Lance had snapped. He’d officially snapped. He’d called Coran up, crying for reasons he wasn’t exactly sure of outside of him feeling very done with being pregnant. Keith had really settled in the last two days. He’d hated being pampered, and though Lance had laughed at his grumbling, he couldn’t deny being slightly hurt that Keith had enjoyed their time together. He’d tried his best to make it enjoyable for Keith, only for Keith to hate all of it.

  The worst bit was that his ego felt insulted. He wanted to get things ready for giving birth. The closer to surgery, the less he’d be able to do. He’d planned to have this done already, and now it hurt to look at the nursery each time he came up the stairs. For an old house, he’d realised how much he’d changed the floor plan, leaving certain spaces and gaps between walls for better aesthetics. If he were to knock down two of the upstairs walls, or at least move them, there’d be enough space for another small bedroom. When he’d gotten things the way he liked, and wanted, he’d become set that that was how they should stay. Now he had the urge to make a second bedroom from that lost space and maybe replan his bathroom.

  Coran copped the full version of his rambling. The fae assured him that many, many people felt the need to ensure things were perfect before giving birth. Lance only crying harder as none of his friends got it and he wanted his Mami. Then Veronica had replied to the photos, asking how his life was, and he’d felt lost all over again. Right now he felt like he needed someone to hold his hand, yet Keith couldn’t do crowds and he couldn’t fight the feelings of need to get things done any longer.

    Parking in front of the hardware store, Curtis let out a sigh. They’d barely talked since Coran had volunteered Curtis to go with him on his errands. Lance too preoccupied in his wallowing as he drove. Cutting the ignition and looking to Curtis, Lance let out a sigh of his own

“I know”

“He seemed pretty upset”

“Yep”

Then again, Lance had been too. He’d wished Keith was there to rub his stomach as he threw up, yet his stupid ego was all bent out of shape over their werewolf not seeming to care about how much stress he was under not having the nursery done

“Should I ask?”

  Without the curse Curtis had free reign to ask as he pleased in his own words. Lance almost missed him blurting things out

“It’s ego stuff. Like I’m all panicked over the nursery and right now I need to settle my ego before I can calm down”

“Ah”

“Pretty much. I know he’s going to be pissed, but I can’t keep waiting for things to fall into line. It scares me. The idea of the nursery not being ready in time”

“I’m sorry...”

Lance shook his head. He shouldn’t have worded it that way. He didn’t blame Curtis. He blamed life

“You have nothing to apologise for. That was the demon acting out. I could have fixed it ages ago, but everything’s been so busy. I did a click and collect order, so all we have to do is the collect bit”

“Are you going to come in?”

  What else was he going to do? He knew he upset Keith by leaving him with Shiro and Krolia, especially on the back of dragging his boyfriend out of bed, but today was a day for errands and Keith couldn’t handle crowds. No. He didn’t particularly want to go in, yet he didn’t have much choice if he wanted to get things done

“I know we’re close in looks, but I can handle this much”

Curtis sighed, Lance knowing he deserved it

“Should I ask why you haven’t talked to Keith about this?”

“Dude, if you want to ask me stuff, you don’t need to ask my permission first. As for Keith, it’s a bit... yeah. He’s still going through a lot, but he just doesn’t seem to get how much I need to get this done”

“I’m being a pain, aren’t I?”

  Today seemed to be his day for upsetting people. He couldn’t cope with that on top of everything on his list. Better to nip it in the bud before it went further

“No. You’re not. I’m grateful you agreed to helping me out, even if I hijacked your plan. I’m just being impatient”

“I didn’t have any plans. Shiro keeps making me rest. If it’s not therapy with Coran, then it’s home at the apartment. He got upset when I dared to bring paperwork home so I’d have something to do”

  Curtis had mentioned before that he wasn’t really coping. Lance could see why Shiro wouldn’t want him pushing himself, still, he knew how annoying it was to be left with your thoughts

“He had a huge scare. The whole floor was filled with energy from the demon. He’s probably trying to overcompensate seeing how long it took for you to recover from the summoning”

“It’s nothing compared to what Keith went through”

  Curtis sounded hurt at the memory. Lance was going to have to drive it into his brain that he wasn’t to blame even if it killed him

“What Keith went through isn’t your fault. With how many times he’s hit his head, no one could have predicted that happening. He’s getting there. He’s been super clingy lately, you should have seen him the other day, give him head pats and everything is forgiven. I suppose Shiro would have told you he had a freak out, but even then, he was mainly scared for Hunk than for himself. I did kind of tell him we had errands, and didn’t exactly tell him I was leaving him at VOLTRON... besides, he needs to socialise. He can’t stay at home forever. VOLTRON was the safest and best option, and it gives me a bit of a breather”

Curtis arched an eyebrow, tone teasing as he replied

“So you left him at werewolf day care. Not even a parent yet and you’re sending your kids away”

  Rolling his eyes at Curtis, Lance then punch him lightly on the arm

“It’s not “day care”. It’s “werewolf care”. Besides, Keith will tell you himself that he’s not a kid”

“Yes. I heard about that. Shiro was lamenting over how much Keith has grown. Don’t tell Keith, but I think Shiro misses being the cooler older brother”

Shiro was cool in his own head. Lance wasn’t about to start bagging Shiro over things, he would have preferred not to be talking about Shiro yet he’d been the one to go there

“Shiro’s still his brother, but I don’t know about the cool bit. I have a sneaking suspicion he’s just as lame as I am. And if you think about it, Keith’s going to slow down aging now he’s turned. He’s always going to be the older brother, even when he’s all old and wrinkly”

“He still misses Keith”

  Well there was nothing Lance could do about that. Keith was free to go to Shiro if he wanted to. Heck, he’d even free up space for Curtis and Shiro if they needed brother time that badly

“You guys still welcome any time. I know we’re leaving before you are, but that’s because we need some us time”

“I know. It’s hard being in the middle”

“That’s like the last thing I wanted. It really is. I know Shiro is important to Keith, and I don’t want Shiro to feel like he can’t reach out to Keith. Keith just... he really thinks he’s not improving fast enough. I know everyone leapt to my side and I hate that. I’m kind of hoping the four of us can reconnect while we’re away, without the outside interference of the others”

“I’m honestly looking forward to that too. It’s been so long since I was human that even the simple things seem way more interesting than they were”

“I wish I could say I got that. All I’ve got is death. Anyway, I’ve booked your room next to ours. The towns so small they only have one hotel, so there wasn’t a whole lot of options”

Curtis nodded, finally undoing his seatbelt

“Want to make a bet about which one is going to be clingier when we get back?”

Lance wasn’t taking money that easily from a friend

“Oh, no. I already know that’s going to be Keith. You should see him. I feel like he tolerated me playing with his hair before, but now he can’t get enough of it. I caught him drooling the other day when I was playing with his hair”

“I kind of want to see that”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll get the chance. Ugh. Now to go people”

“If you want me to go...”

Lance shook his head firmly

“No. It’s okay, but don’t think I’m not treating you to lunch for coming out with me”

“I’m down for that”

    What Keith didn’t know, other than the fact he’d seemed to zone out while Lance was telling him about the errands, was that the vampire had ordered new clothes while he was shopping. As well as a little something he was pretty confident that Keith would like, though that surprise had nothing to do with the reason he’d left Keith behind. He’d prepared himself for most of their time alone together to be in the hotel room, and with the amount of stress he was putting himself through, he didn’t feel as sexy as Keith seemed to find him. He wanted to look good for Keith. He wanted to feel good about his body, though it was hard when he felt like a fat lump every time he’d sit down after a shower and stare down at all this extra “him” that hadn’t been there before. So aside from the hardware store, they also made two other stops, then a third unplanned stop when his ego wouldn’t shut up. At their third stop he’d tried to call Keith, only for the call to go unanswered... as did the next two calls.

  Everything in the nursery was supposed to be chosen by the pair of them, but Lance couldn’t let go of wanting a chair for the nursery, as Curtis had been subjected too in the form of deep signs whenever they passed a furniture store. He couldn’t let go of the desire to have it organised. The chair was almost as important to him as the cots they’d chosen. He wanted a chair for feeding the twins, and a chair where he’d be able to sit and read bedtime stories to the pair of them. The kind of chair where they’d be able to sit on his lap, for snuggles and turning the pages of the pictures books with him. Keith might not get how much that meant to him, but as the youngest of the family, stray furniture had seemed to end up in his room. He could remember in Cuba the chair his Mami would use for the same reason, and god knew how much he wished he knew what had happened to it. So far none of the chairs they’d passed were that chair, though that might be him putting too much thought into picking one. He’d kind of been a bit vocal about the ones he didn’t like, with his tastes clashing against Curtis’s suggestions. This whole mess was why he needed Keith to see. To choose with him. That his boyfriend wouldn’t answer his calls left him with silent tears over his own stupidity.

  Seeing how dejected he was that Keith hadn’t answered, Curtis took Lance’s hand in his, drawing more than a few stares over the sudden seemingly intimacy between the pair. He’d heard the sales staff sighing the moment they laid eyes on him. The weather was warm and sunny, he must have looked like some kind of addict with the way he’d bundled up. Lance had dressed with getting things done in mind. His beanie covered his short hair. The scarf around his neck his his Adam’s apple, he’d chosen a long sleeve black shirt that made his tiny tits annoyingly obvious under a heavy winter jacket that had long passed the point of being able to button, and anything he had to say he kept clipped. If he couldn’t hide being pregnant he could only go with the flow. Even if going with the flow led to very curious looks. Curtis had been by his side, but with their looks people wrongly assumed them family rather than potential lovers, now they seemed to be going off script.

  “Babe, what do you think of this one?”

Asking loudly, Lance didn’t know what to make of this sudden change in his friend. Especially in the face of the absolutely hideous chair in front of them

“You can’t be serious”

“Why not?”

It was pink with gold trim, the fabric fake leather and horrendous. The shape was all wrong for cuddling in. Plus, it was a massage chair and he didn’t want something they’d have to plug in. It was absolutely not what he wanted

“It’s awful”

Placing his hand over Lance’s arm, Curtis smiled creepily at him

“Why don’t we test it out?”

“What? Okay. What are you doing?”

Curtis leaned in to whisper

“There’s two sales people of there who haven’t stopped staring at us. Keith’s not here, so why not have a little fun”

  What the heck was he supposed to do with that? They were staring and now seemed almost scandalised to hear Curtis call him “babe” loudly. Neither of them seemed keen on approaching, and the signs clearly said not to sit on the chairs. Even if they were snooty, he didn’t really want to pick a fight

“I don’t know...”

“Here, come sit down”

Sitting down as he was told, Lance was sceptical over things. Curtis moving to place his hands on the top of the chair, the thing started moving beneath him, despite not being plugged in

“What the hell?!”

Curtis laughed, Lance tilting his head back to look up at him

“Are you doing this?!”

Curtis gave a wink and a shrug

“It seems the electrical thing kind of stuck. I reckon there’s at least half an hour’s worth of power in here now”

  Him sitting seemed to work as a magical beacon to summon one of the workers over. Lance wasn’t particularly in a shit stirring mood, yet the scowl on their face annoyed him. They probably had to deal with the same thing over and over

“Ma’am, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you not to sit in the chairs. We have plastic slips if you’d like to try the feel of them”

His ego flared at “ma’am”. He wasn’t a “ma’am”. He didn’t look old enough for a starters and the plumbing situation was all wrong. The way she spoke...

“Oh, we’re so sorry. You see, my darling honey here is heavily pregnant with twins. I suggested it”

The worker turned their scowl to Curtis. Curtis had managed to sound apologetic enough, but there was just something in the way the woman set her lips that pissed him off

“I’m afraid I can’t bend the rules, sir. Not even for... pregnant customers. Street clothes carry many contaminants that may ruin the fabric, and there’s your condition to think of”

Lance found that instantly rude. Pregnancy wasn’t a disease to be caught. Sugar sweet he batted his eyelashes at Curtis

“Honey, we best do as the woman says”

“Are you sure? You had your heart set on getting a chair today”

“This one gives such a horrible massage. Will you please help me up”

Lance added a pout for good measure, Curtis “hurrying” around to take his hand and help him stand

“We obviously can’t buy a chair that hurts your back. You need to be careful with your body, you know what the doctor said”

  Watching the pair of them, Lance schooled his face as he stared at the sales woman who was now staring at him as if he were dumb

“This particular model isn’t currently plugged in. We do have similar models if you’d...”

Letting Curtis tug him slightly sideways, the movements of the massage chair stalled the sales woman’s words. The cord neatly wound around the lever to turn the chair into a recliner, very clearly not plugged in, despite the fact the chair was currently moving. Turning his head, Lance widened his eyes in fake alarm

“It’s not plugged in!”

The sales woman had no words. Lance didn’t particularly like picking on retail staff, yet he had to bite his lip from laughing at the expression on her face. Utter disbelief

“I don’t think I can shop at a store where the staff don’t know their products. This obviously dangerous. I’m so sorry. If anything were to happen to you, I’d never be able to explain to your boyfriend”

“Oh hush, you. He never has to know.”

“I know, but we can’t allow him to get too suspicious. I shudder to think if he knew I was here with you now”

“He certain is the jealous type. Perhaps we can find a chair that’s easier to clean”

  The woman’s face seemed to go through a range of expression before the colour drained. The way she twitched, she seemed ready to run to her colleagues and spill the scandal she’d been exposed to. That was until her eyes focused on the moving chair again

“Excuse me, ma’am. We’re looking for a chair suitable for a nursery. Do you happen to have something like that there”

God. The way Curtis said “ma’am” seemed to sum up all Lance’s feelings over being called “ma’am”

“Let’s go. I don’t know if I can trust haunted chairs in my house”

Plus the prices were killer. The only reason they’d come to the store was because it was across from where there’d gotten lunch. He liked his usual furniture store better

“It must be possessed by the ghost of customer service past. I guess we won’t be needing your help today. Come on, honey, we should get you home soon”

  Leading Lance away, Curtis kept his hand in his, giving the staff a little wave as the woman called out for some person named “Greg”. He felt a little shitty, until he was outside and found himself laughing far so hard he was nearly peeing himself in public. He’d never thought Curtis had that in him. He’d been so down that Keith hadn’t answered, and then Curtis went and did this

“Oh my god. You’re horrible”

“I saw them looking as we walked in”

“God. How long do you think they’re going to be puzzling over this?”

“No clue. Maybe next time they won’t be so judgmental?”

“Or maybe they’re going to be even scareder of pregnant people?”

Scareder wasn’t a word, yet he couldn’t English out the right word

“I wonder if I do a drive by later tonight, if that chair’s going to be out the back by the dumpsters?”

“It deserves to be. It’s horrendous”

  Curtis nodded, tugging on his arm to lead him further from the door. Inside the staff were kind of freaking out over the chair, seemingly trying to explain things by blaming it on some kind of short

“Come on, we should go before they pull out the priests and pitchforks”

“I’m terrified. Maybe we should go to church?”

“I don’t know about you, but I haven’t been in a church since having the demon summoned out. Can you imagine if we both burst into flame? We’d be posted back to our boyfriends in match boxes”

  There was no reason to find that hilarious. Lance wheezing now, legs pressed together. Being with Curtis was dangerous to health of his bladder.

  On the back of the fit of laughter, Lance surrendered his keys. Curtis forced to find the first fast food restaurant so he could go clean up in the bathroom. This peeing this was rough. He felt as if something as simple as swallowing saliva seemed to mean he had to pee it back out moments later. Still, he’d needed that laugh so damn badly. They’d never be able to show their faces in that store as long as they both lived, but it was kind of worth it. His ego stopped him feeling guilty for his and Curtis’s juvenile behaviour. They hadn’t actually physically harmed anyone, only given them a slight scare, a new work rumour to gossip over, and hopefully made them think twice over being so judgmental... even if it meant no chair. That thought sobering his lingering laughter completely. He... really... couldn’t chose a chair without Keith, no matter how kind Curtis was being. They’d have to go pick him up, and hope like heck they’d find something soon, or Keith would be forced to take home a very cranky vampire on top of having been forced to spend the day in “werewolf care”.

[semi-imaginary-place]

fe3h blogging 1

spoilers

Sorry blue lions. It was between eagles and deer for me. 

ch3: Well OK. The church is now using me as their personal political assassin are they?  

Fe3h fav characters so far: Tomas: knowledge grandpa! And one of the few I trust  Gatekeeper: my pure boy. On the topic of trust. You know who I don't trust? Claude. He always angling for something. Always digging for secrets never revealing his own

I didn't think I'd like Raphael so much but I do. He's so good natured. He always wants to help and even when the other kids are mean to him. His only response is more kindness. Like oh youre kinda grumpy right now how about a snack. Like a human shaped golden retriever. Full of love and very food motivated. As much as he's a complete musclehead, his emotional/social intelligence is pretty high. He just wants to make friends. Let Raphhael have friends!  

Guess who chose golden deerI was considering black eagle. But everyone did black eagle. I can go on youtube later. I haven't gotten it but on youtube is lorenz and sylvain's c and b supports and they are hilarious

I found japanese audio of fe3h and it just really hit me that Sylvain belongs in an otome game. I mean his character design (hair color, hair style etc.) and the way he acts is already... eh. But then his japanese voice actor... and its giving me this mental dissonance. Especially aince I've seen the character artist doing utapri, samflam, and other stuff.

weeho spoiled myself on supports: Everyday I grow less and less convinced of Sylvain's heterosexuality. Does he even like women?? He's just emotionally manipulating them as a self destructive coping mechanism because he has self worth issues.  So he presents himself as the superficial stuff like social status and then gets insecure and accuses them of only dating him for status. He's setting himself up for failure. And each tine reinforces his belief that he is nothing but his crest and family. Look at this disaster boy 

knowledge grandpa no! I trusted you and I trust so few people. I wonder if it was real Tomas who first joined but an impostor who rejoined a year ago

List of potential immortals: Jeralt, Rhea, Flayn. There are multiple mentions of Jeralt not seeming to age, he looked the same over 30 years ago. Rhea looks suspiciously like Saint Seiros and was archbishop 20 years ago. Flayn act both young and old and won’t give me her age. That said now that its revealed in the paraloge that Seteth is her dad, maybe not secretly an immortal so much as magical bloodline. Also Seiros, Rhea, Sothis, and Flayn are all related somehow. The green hair doesn’t help. And Byleth is somehow involved. I thought byleth might be part of the immortal gang but mom’s grave stone said she died at age 20 so byleth was born at the church like 20-21 years ago

support thoughts: Are all of huberts c supports just him insulting people?? each and every day I fall more in love with Dorothea. her support with Ferdinand where she straight up says she hates him, the voice acting on that! Lorenz and Ferdinand was hilarious. This is why you get bullied. Lorenz and Sylvain was also funny. Not a big fan of Bernadetta. 

Ok so update on the green haired tinfoil hatting: Flayn related to the saint cetholynn????? somehow and definitely real old.

end of part 1

Thinking back the crests and church(seiros/saints) are what turn people into demonic beasts. there are beasts with crest stones in their heads, in Remire villiage they tried to turn people using Flayn’s blood, and later succeeded. Flame emperor is using the church’s abilities against it. Also Rhea’s been seeking to replicate... something Seiros maybe?? (or more someone.. someone who was precious to her) by ripping the hearts out of babies and putting in a special one??? Rhea seem desperate, but I’m not sure what (or whom) she is desperate for. turning Byleth into Seiros??? There is a ... tension is her, like she is on the edge of snapping. And what was she trying to achieve there in the tomb before she was interrupted. For being “holy” relics, they sure are ominous looking. and they turn people into monsters. The whole church is sketch honestly. The propaganda and censorship campaigns. The crushing of any that are a threat under the language of sin and justice.

So Edelgard went full supervillian. Wow. And Rhea was the immaculate one huh (still don’t know what that means), here I was theory crafting that she was a reincarnated Seiros or something. Edelgard is like a worse Alm, she wants to rid humanity of dragons ruling over them and install a meritocracy. Her methods though are !!!!! yikes. I mean any reign that starts with “kill all that resist” can’t lead to anything good. Also out of 10 siblings only 1 didn’t die of illness or go mad. hmmmn where have I heard that before.

That said I do agree with her goal. I love it when I can take down a religious institution in a videogame.

At Garreg Mach her whole plan in to brute force it. Like if we just keep throwing enough lives at it we are bound to win. Admittedly I know nothing of military strategy, but that doesn’t sound like the best plan.

Interesting the differences between routes. In Edelgard’s church allied with feargus, while in Claude’s the Church lost significant power and Edelgard successfully incited a coup, but why did the Empire give up Garreg Mach as a strategic position? 

My baby deer are all grown up. And yup another mark in the Flayn is some immortal being, her sprite didn’t change at all. Totally in favor of stealing everyone from the other houses.

Who wore it better Part 1 or 2

Edelgard: 2. I mean p1 Edelgard was already best dressed but p2 takes it to a new level

Dimitri: 2. I mean p1′s hair is so goofy looking I just have to choose the edgelord

Claude: both. Claude looks fine so matter the time

Hubert: 2. He really did grow into the goth look

Petra: 1. Both are good but I love the huge braid

Lindhart: 1. p2 isn’t bad but I like the two layers look

Dorothea: 2. but both are good

Caspar: 2. Something about p1 always bothered me

Ferdinand: 2. His character model looks better than his sprite, and his hair is so luscious and flowing!

Bernadetta: 2. its just a mess is p1, v cute in p2

Dudue: 2. what is even going on in p1. where as p2 is like... elegant

Sylvain: 1. as much as I teased about him belonging in an otome game, his p2 haircut is just ugly

Ingrid: 1. mmmm its fluffy?

Felix: 1. What is his p2 hair even doing??? it makes me confused

Mercedes: 1. Fluffy.

Annette: 2. never was a fan of the hair loopies

Ashe: both. p1 is cute but p2 is beautiful. both are sooo good

Hilda: 2. p1 pigtails kinda boring

Raphael: 1. though p2 its a shaggy dog

Leonie: 1. another fluffy head, p2′s low pony tail does not give a flattering shape

Ignatz: 2. a bowl cut is an improvment from whatever p1 is

Lysithea: 2. not sue about the veil but it is more intersting than p1

Marianne: 1. I always did prefer thick bangs

Lorenz: 2. its definitely p2. in p1 he looks like such a clown

Cyril: 2. Honestly he kept the baby face so there’s not much difference.

Claude sees that under Rhea the church enforced a doctrine that locked in the status quo of nobles and crests and he wants to chage the church’s influence to promote tolerance, diversity, and open mindedness. but, hey. Hey. What if we got rid of the church all together.

Why can’t I recruit the old general... hey. Hey!

Aww Claude introduced me to his second mom and dad

So the more people you can recruit the less painful things are. I’m a little disappointed I didn’t get to kill Dimitri.

In terms of characters, Ferdinand has surprisingly grown on me. As for Caspar I shocks me occasionally how uncaring he is about killing people. He reminds me of a smt chaos hero with the whole might equals right thing. As long as he decides they are evil its ok to kill them. Now all he needs to do is get possessed by a demon. Eating away at him from the inside out. Ashe as always continues to be an absolute angel. I need somewhere to gush about how cool Claude looks in him final class promotion. So I rather like the group of childhood friends dimitri, felix, sylvain, ingrid. And it always trips me uo to remember that sylvain is like 2 years older than the rest because he really doesn't act like it. I'm getting that they are all traumatized from the death of felix's brother. A lot of the characters have had pretty bad childhoods.I was surprised to find out that Lysithea was tortured as a child like ok wow. I need to spend more time with you. Does Dimitri have PTSD? Golden Deer has had quite a few goofy hijinks. Marianne's character growth really has been a a thing of beauty, I’m so proud of her. But I love my oddball bunch of misfits. How did Dedue not get found out??? He’s very noticeable. and Claude, you’re starting to sound like Edelgard. I love Edelgard’s final promotion. Looks so cool. Like a mix or her Lord and Flame Emperor clothes. I wince every time some mentions the free market or the joys of capitalism. I guess adrestia is imperialism, faergus is religion, and leister is capitalism. I didn’t care about Dimriti’s death, but Edelgard’s got me.

damn ok so dubstep cyberpunk dungeon and Rhea took like 15 missile strikes. wow this really is very smt. maybe persona 2. And fighting zombie Nemesis and the 10 was excellent (Nemesis is still a stupid name). I love it when we fight literal embodiments of the past

its hilarious that in Shamir and Claude's paired ending,  he ends up ditching 3 whole times. He turns the opportunity to lead the unified fodland down, then he ditches house reigen, and then he abdicated the throne! I love it! That's so him. And they both wanted to travel the world.  Technically Claude is also a descendant of Loog so he also gave up claim to the Faerghus throne too. I swear. This dude. This dude...  Next its going to be revealed that secretly Claudr is Edelgard's cousin. Or one of her "dead" sibling. Lysithea tell us that blood experiment to force crests leads to physical and mental damage. Does this have anything to do with what happened to Edelgard’s siblings? As far as I can tell every ending has Fodland under a single party state. Crimson flower, azure moon, and verdant wind all end in monarchies, and silver snow a theocracy.

Hold up. Flayn said that Cethaleann never had any children as rational as to why she's not a descendant. But how did Lindhart get the crest then?? And I might be mixing up the 10 and the saints, but then I thought  the crests were designed as tools of war by those who slither in the dark. Thats how the 10 got them, to use as weapons against Sothis. But that then brings the question of why Rhea edited history in favor of them.  This is why the holy relics looked so ominous and creepy. The animations are eeeeeeeeuuuuuugggh. My initial though was that the church is secretly evil and this is foreshadowing. I mean rhea's kinda... viscous? Ruthless? Filled with barely contained hatred? I was thinking maybe she's secretly the evil dragon of the game the way Mila kinda was. 

But then you dont need consent to make a crest. Only blood. Blood could have been stolen from cihol and cethaleann to make their crests. Alternately they could have chosen to give crests to specific people.  The 2 sources of crests is also why there’s multiple weapons for some crests. The crest weapons made by the agartans all have a similar aesthetic, but not all the crest weapons have that aesthetic some look different and probably weren’t made by them. As for why Rhea rewrote the 10 into heroes. It might have been to stop people from questioning the crests and relics and seeking to replicate them. By framing it as sothis's doing, with the power of the church she can control crests, how people view them, and keep a closer eye on the descendants. Its its a gift by the goddess, of course we cant try to replicate them.

Let’s see what Claude achieved before he dipped. anti-discrimination laws (race, religion), and increased foreign relations. Potentially equal treatment under the law.

Edelgard really likes brute forcing solutions

The whole opera thing with Dorothea and Manuela stinks of the idol industry where an idol peaks at like 18. Real opera singers have much longer careers.

Golden Deer is so JRPG in the best way. There’s an evil cult of technologically advanced subterranean people, a zombie army, the power of friendship.

It already caught my attention when  missiles appeared and the evil cult's dungeon belonged is a scifi movie like ghost in the shell and I was thinking to myself "hmmm... this all sounds very smt of you" or maybe Persona 2. I mean with names like Shambala and the whole general aesthetic of that dungeon ... yeah. But then someone points out the UN’s symbol is all over the Agarthan stuff. And wow we really are in an smt timeline aren't we. and I remember seeing the missiles thinking hmmm that looks vaguely familiar. Its the UN symbol. Which means in alternate future Earth Sothis comes, we wage a war against the gods and and then Rhea destroys modern civilization along with the planet. that really does sound like the plot of an SMT game. I did wonder at the inclusion of electronica and dubstep into the soundtrack.

THC (Thinking Hard about Claude). Claude let's everyone know he's up to something, and his self portrayal as a schemer is both deliberate and truthful. He's using it part as social armor and part as an excuse to probe. Claude holds genuine cuiosity, wonder, and passion for the world. He is not always scheming so much as he is one of those people who's brain never turn off. He just wants to explore the world, meet different cultures, and discover all the secrets. Given the environment he grew up in, his natural inclinations angled him to thinking in terms of how to best leverage someone or how to sneak around.

Alright so here’s the lore as I know it. Sothis=Goddess came from another world to Fodlan. Through her blood made the goddess’ children (Nabateans) who are the original magical beasts and can talk, and they resided at Zanado. Rhea=Seiros=The Immaculate One, and the 4 Saints (Cihol=Seteth, Cethaleann=Flayn, Indech=The Indomitable, Macuil=The Wind Caller) are Nabateans. Sothis gave knowledge/interacted with the native humans of Fodlan (Agarthans). Eventually the Agarthans waged war against Sothis killing her and many Nabateans. The Agarthans used their bones to make weapons, their hearts to make crest stones, and their blood to make crests. The above is why magical beasts and demonic beasts are connected to crest stones. The crest stones as the hearts of Nabateans transform humans into a distorted version of their magical beast forms. The Sword of the Creator was made from materials taken from Sothis’ body. Using these weapons the humans attacked Zanado killing everyone except Seiros and the 4 Saints. The 10 Heroes Relics were similarly made from Nabatean bodies. Seiros, already obsessed with Sothis thought only of vengeance and bringing back Sothis. She raised an army, killed Nemesis, and drove the Agarthans underground to become Those who Slither in the Dark. Seiros then took control of the continent under the guise of The Church of Seiros. Seiros and the 4 Saints gave their blood to favored individuals granting them the power of their personal crest as well as potentially extending their lifespan/granting extended youth. This is why the 10 Heroes Relics have a visual aesthetic distinct from that of the weapons of the 4 Saints. The 10 Heroes Relics were made by the Agarthans but the other crest weapons like the other Gloucester crest weapon the Axe of Ukonvasara and the Saint’s weapons were not mad by them. The Church the acted as a tool for Seiros/Rhea to control the continent and its course. She then rewrote that part of history. The goddess was just sleeping, crests were a blessings of the goddess, etc. 

I am unsure as to why she did so, but I believe it served the 2 purposes. First it allowed Rhea to control the narrative and how people thought about the matter. Second it erases the existence of a rebellion against the Goddess. From the Church, Rhea could control the flow of information, censoring anything that threatened her power. Using the language of religion she could also justify using military force to eliminate her political opponents. 

[anistarrose]

Some Sunny Day - Chapter 10: Happy to Know (Gravity Falls - Same Coin Theory)

Summary: It’ll all out in the open now.

Warnings: Suicidal ideation (no one dies)

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The Beginning (see here for AO3 link)

Just a quick foreword for this chapter and the next one: now that the main cast members are all realizing the truth, they’re going to be expressing some opinions on the situation (interpretations of the theory) that are not necessarily my own, and may not reflect the overall direction this fic is taking. The truth is out, but there’s still a lot that needs to be worked through, so if this chapter feels like a downer, don’t worry — this fic is tagged Hurt/Comfort for a reason that will (eventually) become apparent.

(The Same Coin Theory is by @dubsdeedubs and @renmorris!)

Stanley’s mindscape was changing.

Ford somehow remained blind to it until he tried to stand up, only to fall back down to his hands and knees as the floorboards shuddered and swayed beneath his feet. All around him, walls buckled and planks were torn out of place, rearranging themselves to craft new hallways, new connections between memories.

Hissing geysers erupted from cracks in the floor, the scalding-hot plumes weaving deftly around him as their steam escaped through the holes in the roof. Some of the clouds took longer to drift out of sight, and as they hung lazily in the air, Ford could make out images in them — a rift, a shooting star. A fire, a fist. A statue.

The steam even seemed to seep out of the walls and floor themselves, sapping the darkness from the wood as it grew lighter and lighter, brighter and brighter until it burned Ford’s eyes just to look at. The grain patterns in the planks shifted and flickered like waves of fire, taking on a blue hue as they leapt out of the wood and into the air, chasing away the last wisps of darkness to render Stan’s mind in all white and light gray, accented by the yellow gleam of the knots in the walls as they all shifted to fixate their gaze on Ford, unblinking.

He covered his eyes, but the images stayed seared in his memory.

***

Stanley laughed — a long, hearty laugh that would have brought tears to his eyes and a sore sensation to his gut, had he not been immaterial and invulnerable, free from the oppressive laws of physics as the undisputed master of the mindscape.

Oh, it had been so long — so long since he’d last looked beyond where his cataract-ridden human eyes could see, since he’d last snapped his fingers and rewritten the rules of the universe however he deemed fit, so long since he’d last consciously thought about how ancient and how powerful he was, how much he was truly capable of when he set his mind to it…

He didn’t know whether to call it ten months or sixty-two years, but it had been so long, too long.

So long since he’d last cheated someone out of some precious time in possession of their own body, so long since he’d razed a dimension from the inside out and danced as it went up in flames, so long since he’d —

So long since he’d tortured his former pawn (his future brother) to give up the equation confining his reign of terror to a single town, so long since he’d left it up to chance which child (which nibling) he’d kill in cold blood, to convince Ford that he meant what he said about hurting those kids —

Fuck, fuck, fuck —

More and more memories kept rushing back, some already remembered from a different perspective, but many worse than anything a still-amnesiac-Stanley would have ever dreamed of. Dimensions burnt to the ground, deals struck and puppets claimed, eyes dripping blood and cutlery jabbed into arms —

He had always known on some level, he realized.

(No, not realized. Admitted.)

He had known since the blue flames first flickered up around his fingers that morning, and he had known since he first found the prisms in Ford’s house and been struck by a wave of déjà vu, as long-slumbering memories grew restless in their sleep. He had known since he’d swung back and forth on a rusty swingset on a beach, staring at the six-fingered hands gripping the chains of the other swing, and addressed their owner by a nickname from a prophecy written centuries ago, in a cave two thousand miles away. He’d known ever since the blue fire of the burning mindscape had faded away, and he’d opened two eyes in a hospital in New Jersey, mind blank but not truly empty.

He just couldn’t admit it to himself and stay sane. He didn’t dare risk reawakening the demon that lurked in his memories, bound in place by the flimsy chain that was his newly acquired conscience — but it hadn’t just been about self-preservation, or even the preservation of the rest of the world, had it? He hadn’t been able find the courage to admit it to his family, either, to tell them who he was — and then, even worse, to explain how he’d known and lied about it for so long, for as long as he’d known them. How he’d lied until he couldn’t remember what was a lie and what wasn’t.

And he didn’t know how to tell them that all the lying been futile, in the end, because denial could erase memories but not actions. Not who, not what he was. His very identity as the others saw it — as even he had been foolish enough to see it, for sixty-two years — was nothing more than just another con. Just another fake name.

All belief of being Stanley Pines abandoned, Bill Cipher raised a hand to cover his mouth and screamed.

***

The one remaining column of steam in the room exploded just as Ford pulled himself to his feet, and winds tore across the room, howling in agony but miraculously not knocking him down. On unsteady feet, a figure with disheveled hair but an impeccable suit and tie walked falteringly forwards, away from the site of detonation — and despite himself, Ford stepped towards him.

“Stanley? Are you —”

Stan’s head jerked up, and he stared at Ford like a deer in the headlights. “No! No, don’t come any closer, I —”

His feet lifted off the floor, and waves of pixels and static rippled up his body as he gritted his teeth, form flickering back and forth between human and —

And something Ford couldn’t quite make out, human and —

Human and —

A sickly yellow triangle materialized out of the static, single eye unblinking as thin black limbs dangled limply towards the ground.

“Well,” he said, in the quietest voice Ford had ever heard emanate from Bill Cipher, “you probably see why you shouldn’t come near me.”

Ford’s stomach churned like it had been thrown into perpetual free fall, and his eyes unfocused.

“What did you do to him?!” he howled. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY BROTHER?!”

“Nothing,” Bill said, hands curling into tiny black fists as his appearance flickered and morphed into Stan once again. “I got some bad news, Sixer.”

“Stop pretending to be him!” Ford snarled. “I know you’re really Cipher, so stop — stop making a mockery of him like that! Stop pretending!”

“I have stopped.” The being that took on Stan’s appearance looked genuinely upset, shaking his head slowly and refusing to make eye contact for more than a fraction of a second. “I was — I was pretending for a really long time, but —”

“You’re not making any sense, St—” Ford barely caught himself, and corrected frantically. “No, I mean — fuck. What do you fucking want from me, Bill, that —”

Stan took a shaky breath — the type that often comes when tears are starting to dampen one’s eyes, and they’re trying not to let them creep into their voice. “I really had you convinced, didn’t I?”

He closed his two eyes, after another burst of static, Bill opened his one. “Sixer, I… I was always Stan.”

“What?! No, of all the bullshit — is this some reincarnation angle you’re going for? Because you clearly died long after Stan was —”

“Time doesn’t work like that, Ford! You went rooting through my memories, you saw me invoke the Axolotl — that big frilly know-it-all exists way outside of any backwards and forwards or cause and effect, you must have figured that out by now! I invoked it back when I was burning in my own damn mindscape, when I didn’t actually want to die, and you know what it thought? It thought I was worth saving — oh, and not just saving, but worth shoving me back into your lives like I hadn’t ruined them enough yet!”

“Don’t talk like that about him! Don’t talk like you are him! I won’t fall for your tricks, Cipher, I —”

“I don’t want it to be true either!” Bill wailed, and a fiery blue tear fell from his eye, continuing to roll down his cheek as he turned back into Stan. “You have no idea, I — I want more than anything to to go back to just a couple days ago, to being able to pretend everything is normal and only thinking about spending the summer with you all! But — but it’s not — I can’t pretend anymore! I’m too dangerous to all of you!”

His hoarse voice broke every few words, so full of anguish and so unmistakably Stan. So far beyond anything Bill would ever have the capability to fake.

“There’s — there’s got to be memories getting mixed up in here somehow,” Ford whispered, and though he tried to sound comforting it ended up sounding more like a desperate prayer. “We’ll get this all sorted out, Stanley, don’t worry —”

“You can’t sort out what was never mixed up in the first place!” Bill yelled. “Why won’t you just listen to me, Ford? What about — what if I show you something you remember too?”

The Shack shuddered, planks groaning as they moved to make way for a new door that was dragged out from the hallway by an unseen force. Blue flames ignited around the knob as it twisted open on its own, letting the door swing open to reveal —

Earlier this June, about two weeks ago. Ford shuffled cards as Dipper and Mabel pulled chairs up to a table, and Stan carried in a bowl of fresh popcorn.

“Alright, what are we doin’ for teams?” he asked, setting down the bowl. “Ford and I are obviously unstoppable together, so it’s only fair if we both team up with one of you kiddos…”

“Yeah, ‘cause you both count cards…” Dipper muttered under his breath.

Stan ignored him and folded his hands together, making a point with his index fingers as he gestured between Mabel and Dipper. “Eenie meenie miney… you.”

Dipper flinched as Stan landed on him, staring at his pointed fingers with horror for a moment before taking a few hurried steps backward. “I, uh…”

Stan frowned. “Something wrong?”

“Oh, no,” Mabel murmured. “It’s a Bill thing, isn’t it, Dipper?”

Dipper started to shake his head, but then sighed and pulled down his hat. “Yeah. He… he said that to me a couple times, and now I just…”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Stan said. “Tell me right away if I ever use a bad phrase like that again, okay?”

Dipper nodded, and Ford put a hand on his shoulder. To Stan, he whispered: “I think I remember hearing Bill use that phrase once, but… aside from that, I don’t think I’ve ever heard it from anyone but you. Did he — did he steal your catchphrase?”

Stan shrugged. “I dunno, but I hope he didn’t steal anything else. Dipper — or any of you, actually — are there any other words you guys want me to avoid?”

The other three Pines shook their heads, and Stan smiled, passing the bowl of popcorn in Dipper’s direction. “Well then, let’s play some euchre before the popcorn gets cold. I got fancy with this batch and made it on the stove, ya know.”

The door to the memory slammed shut, and Ford bit his lip. His hands were trembling at his sides, fingers curled so tightly that they ached like hell, and he couldn’t bear to look down at them in fear he might find them bleeding.

“Coincidence,” he choked out. “It has to be.”

“What will make you believe it, Sixer?” Stan asked. “Fuck, even that nickname should clue you in! Did you ever think it was weird that the two of us both called you Sixer, and just the two of us?”

“Bill must have stolen it from you. Like he stole —”

“That nickname came from the zodiac and you know it! I know you know it, so why can’t you just — just — just look at yourself, Stanford!”

The air shimmered between them, forming a surface so pristine and perfectly reflective that Ford almost thought he was still looking at his twin, view unobstructed — but Stan had been silhouetted in blue flames just a moment ago, while Ford’s reflection was awash with darkness. Clouds circled him slowly, not a single spark of lightning seen in the air between them, and they blurred together with his trenchcoat as it flowed in the gentle wind, disintegrating into tiny gray droplets at the hem. Dark paths traced from the corners of his eyes down his cheeks, running off his chin and down his neck towards his sweater, where they bled into the wool and stained it black.

And the hands, unmistakably six-fingered and undeniably his own, were dripping dark liquid too — not the blood he thought he’d felt, but relentless cascades of black, feeding rivers that hissed and steamed as they ran across the floor’s glowing planks.

“Don’t you see? You’re drawing all the darkness left in my mind towards you because you’re the one in the deepest denial now — but trust me, Ford, it’s not gonna last forever. Something’s gonna snap you out of it sooner or later, so it — it might as well be now. Just accept that I’m not who you thought I was.”

“Fuck,” Ford whispered. “Stanley, you — you’re — you really —”

Stan rose above the mirror, still cloaked in flames as his body convulsed into the form of Bill once more.

“You said no one is allowed to say Stanley is worthless, but guess what? ‘Stanley’ isn’t real. He was just another lie, invented by an amnesiac dream demon who almost managed to convince even himself that he deserved to have a family.”

His voice broke again, but he looked at Ford in the eye as he continued:

“Face it, Sixer — you never had a twin.”

“No!” The dark clouds and blue fire both blew back from Ford as he yelled, voice echoing in his own ears like a grenade going off. “Reincarnation is one thing, but — but there are some things that I’ll never — that can’t —”

He lunged at (Stan? Bill? His brother? He didn’t know) but his hands and then arms passed harmlessly through the triangle, flickering and fading to white — and then Bill’s body turned transparent too, seeming to almost catch him off guard.

“Oh,” he whispered, and transformed back to a faint, quickly fading outline of Stan. “Guess it’s time. See you on the other side, Sixer.”

And then Ford couldn’t see anything anymore, but he could hear a high, echoing voice call out once again as if from far away:

Remember, a deal’s a deal.

***

“Alright, that should be it for the barrier,” Fiddleford announced as he stood up from his kneeling position and watched a glowing blue dome briefly flicker into existence around the sleeping Pines. “Remind me not to leave these mercury vials here on the floor after this has all blown over.”

“How will we know if it works?” Melody asked.

“Great question! I have no idea, an’ hopefully we’ll never hafta find out.”

“Real reassuring,” Wendy muttered under her breath. “Hey, how long do you think it’ll be before —”

Ford leapt bolt upright and tossed the pillow he’d been clutching halfway across the room. “Bill, what do you —”

He locked eyes with Fiddleford. “Fidds? Oh no, Stanley, where’s Stanley —”

He whirled around and saw Soos and the kids beginning to stir, but only Stan opened his eyes — regular and brown, no sign of possession to be found.

“Shoot me, Ford,” he whispered.

Ford froze. “No!! Why would you think I would ever do that?!”

Slowly, as if still feeling the effects of the sedative, Stan pulled himself out of his chair. “Because you promised?”

“When did I ever promise I would shoot you?”

Stan shook his head and sighed, nervously glancing at the kids and Soos and taking a few quick steps away from them while they opened their eyes and rubbed their ears. “Look, Ford, I know it’s been… a long day, but you’ve gotta remember. You promised you’d kill me if Bill took control, and I’m feeling — I’m feeling pretty in-control of myself right now, so —”

“What?” Soos jumped to his feet and grabbed ahold of Stan’s arm. “Mr. Pines, what are you saying? You can’t — you can’t leave us, you’re —”

Stan tore himself out of Soos’s grip and rushed to Ford’s side. “Just get it over with! Please!”

He ran both hands over his skull, yanking on fistfuls of his own hair. “You have to, before I end up hurting someone! Please, I — I — I fuckin’ killed you enough times in Weirdmageddon, I deserve this! Don’t you want to get revenge on me?! Don’t you want to protect your family?!”

“You what?! Grunkle Stan, what do you mean?!” Mabel grabbed ahold Ford’s trenchcoat, voice rising as she clasped handfuls of the brown fabric in trembling, balled-up fists. “What does he mean?!”

“Don’t say that, Stanley,” Ford breathed. “For the kids’ sake, I can’t —”

Stan’s gaze drifted towards a spot the floor a few feet away, fixating on a pale blue chunk of moonstone. He’d noticed the barrier, Ford realized a second too late.

“Fine,” Stan whispered as he stepped backwards. “Then I guess I’ll just have to… take care of it myself.”

“No! Don’t go! Don’t you dare leave us like —”

Ford lunged after him, but Stan backed out of the barrier too quickly, and Ford’s hand passed right through Stan’s shoulder as he disintegrated like smoke in a gust of wind. A single tear fell from where Stan’s face had just been, striking the floor without a sound.

“Grunkle Ford, what happened?” Dipper’s voice cracked. “We found Bill’s memories, and then he — Bill glitched out, and it felt like the whole mindscape was gonna get torn apart —”

“I don’t know what’s happening,” Ford said. “I — I don’t know what to believe.”

“Stan’s not — that wasn’t Bill just now, was it?”

“I don’t know.”

Dipper went silent, leaving the quiet sobs from behind him as the loudest sound remaining in the room.

“He’s really gone,” Soos wept. “After everything, he’s just — he’s just gone —”

Ford took a few steps backward and slowly laid an arm over Soos’s broad shoulders, eyes still fixed on the damp spot where Stan’s tear had struck the floor.

“He’s still out there somewhere,” he insisted, “he has to be. I would know if he wasn’t. I’m sure I would.”

He wasn’t sure. That — that entity, with Stan’s eyes and Bill’s memories, almost certainly had the power to destroy its own self in an instant, and Ford had no reason to believe that it hadn’t just done so. (It might not even matter, if Stan wasn’t even in there anymore. Or if he’d never been in there in the first place —)

But baseless hope had pulled through for Ford countless times before, and once again, it was all he had to go on now.

“Stanley is still out there,” he repeated, “and we need to find him.”

***

End notes:

I chose Ford’s POV for this chapter because it made certain scenes a lot more horrifying/impactful, especially the part with the mirror, but I realized while editing that the result is a bit of a trade-off in which Stan’s motivations become a little less clear, so I’d like to clarify: the reason Stan doesn’t immediately leave the new unicorn hair barrier is because he doesn’t trust himself to end his own life, and in fact doesn’t really trust anyone besides Ford to do so. It’s only when Ford shows he’s clearly not willing to cooperate that Stan leaves, realizing that taking it into his own hands is the best option he has left. (Also, as much as he’s convinced he has to die… it’s still terrifying to him, and he doesn’t want to leave the world all alone. It’s not his main motivation for his actions at the end, but it definitely plays a role.)

Anyways, feedback/reblogs are appreciated as always! Next update should stick to the every other Monday schedule that I’ve been attempting!

[italicwatches]

Animal Sentai Zyuohger vs Ninninger - Part 1

Well I suppose we’ve got to sidestep to handle this one. I’m gonna level with you, Ninninger wasn’t a series I liked a ton at the time, and my opinion hasn’t improved with time. It was just such a series of dropped opportunities that spun its wheels instead of doing anything with any of its plots, and the movies already have a tendency to, well, spin their wheels for lack of being able to do much to the actual stories.

But I’ve been wrong before. Let’s see if maybe I’m wrong again. It’s Animal Sentai Zyuohger vs Ninninger the Movie: Super Sentai’s Message from the Future from Super Sentai, part one! Here we GO!

-TOEI LOGO, with a Zyuohger animal cry.

-We begin, in fire. A shinobi boy runs into an open stadium, to see the Super Sentai heroes dead on the floor! DRAMATIC.

-Cut back to Before. The crew are off on a camping trip out by the river, and even better, it’s out in the middle of nowhere so they can let out their animal heads. They can relax, and unwind, and not give two fucks about anything…Of course, as they relax, they’re being watched…

-While Misao is still on his way, having taken his time putting together perfect bento box lunches…When that little shrimp of a shinobi barrels past him and oh god all the bento boxes spilled. Miao is in despair.

-Back at the campsite, Yamato’s ready to start cooking some food…When the zyumen suddenly get vibes. Something is coming…! And it’s, to nobody’s surprise but the cast, a series of colorful shinobi, who think these animals are demons using the power of Sentai to commit evil! …Sure. Sure you know what let’s just roll with it.

-AKA NINJA SHURIKEN. THE CHANGE! NIN NIN NIN! NIN NI NIN NIN! Shuriken Change! RED! BLUE! YELLOW! WHITE! PINK! NINJAS! The shinobi who won’t hide! Shuriken Sentai, NINNINGER!

-Instincts Awakened! The Zyuohgers block a series of gunshots with their armor, as the two teams square off…And the fight is on!

-TITLE CARD! God I swear these get more absurd with every movie…

-So Eagle goes after Aka in the sky, Lion faces Ao’s trickery, Shark and Shiro clash, Elephant and Ki are against each other, and Tiger faces Momo. As you can imagine, these fights take a certain comical absurdity…Well, until everyone gathers back up, and it’s time for WHALE! Whale fires up a vicious, charged Final shot into the ground, slamming the shinobi back. …BOOK IT!

-And thus Aka decides to scale it up. Shuriken Combination! SHURIKENJIN! …Well shit.

-Zyuoh Cube! Animal Combination! ZYUOH KING! ZYUOH WILD! Gotta get those older toys to sell somehow, right? Of course, Shurikenjin manages to hold its own against both, keeping them from surrounding him…And Aka launches Shinobimaru to produce tons of chaos when they try to put on a unified front! Leaving them to call up UFOmaru for SHURIKENJIN UFO!

-Okay, fine, time for power. WILD ZYUOH KING! The mechs combine, and Aka’s kind of fired up at this serious fight. So, finishers? Finishers!

-SHURIKENJIN! UFO BIG BANG!

-ZYUOH DYNAMIC STRIKE! Beam claaaash! Which core team will reign supreme?

-The beams just make an explosion that send both teams flying. Well that’s one way to avoid answering the question. Everyone’s injured enough to be ripped out of their armors, as Yamato finds himself landing right by Takaharu…Who still has a sword. …Shit. Which leads to another scrambling battle, as he just tries to get away from the furious armed man…

-Meanwhile, Misao is in despair when he finally gets to the campsite…And finds it bombed out and burned to a husk?! Oh god, what happened?! NINJAS happened.

-The rest of the Ninninger team get back to their place, unable to reach Takaharu…And are greeted by…

-What the fuck is this thing.

-Runrun. This thing is called Runrun. Who insists their people were wiped out by the evil demons pretending to be Super Sentai, the Zyuohgers! I call horseshit. So, everyone’s left trying to figure out a plan…Not least being the fact that they only fought five Zyuohgers, and even independent sources can verify there are six…

-Meanwhile, the rest of the crew are stuck without Yamato or Misao, and are hanging out at a courtyard with food stands trying to sort out a plan of their own…With one certain food stand being manned by a certain fellow who’s listening so very closely to this talk of zyumen and ninjas. Tusk’s immediate thought is they need to know what a ninja is capable of if they’re going to fight one…

-Which is when the shinobi cowboy of legend appears before them!

-Yamato continues to insist he’s human and doesn’t have a tail, as their fight goes to a park…When the shrimp ninja comes to stop his father! …Takaharu thinks he would remember impregnating a woman.

-Back at the cabin, Mario’s working on a frog sculpture…When Ki and Momo come to observe…And Mario throws two of his sculpting knives at their hiding point, getting some kind of sense that something had intruded on his space! It’s a very good thing that Misao announces himself when he steps in or he might die.

-And Misao is deeply concerned about what he saw and hopes the others are okay…And then as soon as Mario turns away, the shinobi snatch Misao up and drag him out into the woods for some persuasive conversation.

-And then Misao falls into depressive despair so they knock him out. And Runrun is very pleased.

-While Yamato is meeting this kid, one Igasaki Yoshiharu. Son of Takaharu, back from the future. Oh that makes sense. Takaharu believes it in two seconds because he’s dealt with all kinds of weird ninja shit, while for Yamato that’s a bit of a bridge too far. …Look I’m just glad this dumbdumb isn’t trying to kill an actually good Red.

-So the kid came back using ninpou, and Yamato just gives up trying to sort it out.

-And then Takaharu asks about his future self…And learns he suffered a fate even worse than baldness.

-He died.

-One day from now, both teams are killed in a terrible battle. Yoshiharu came back to try and prevent it…

-While resident cowboy Kinji is explaining ninjas to the zyumen. And with the sun so low in the sky, he has clearly been doing this for hours.

-Which is when Cube Rhino appears, with a letter! A ransom note. Misao’s been captured, and they’re to come peacefully and turn themselves over if they want him unharmed…And Sela is furious.

-When Kinji reveals, THE CHANGE! Shuriken Change! STAR NINJA! The colorful star, STAR NIN—

-Come here motherfucker

-Back at the cabin, Yamato, Takaharu and Yoshiharu are at the cabin, where he lays out, and this may shock you, that Runrun tricked the two teams into destroying each other. And with nobody to safely pass the torch of power, no new Super Sentai teams were able to form…That power, what we Americans would think of as the Morphing Grid, was lost. A world without heroes to fight evil…

-Takaharu is at least able to apologize deeply from the bottom of his heart, and beg forgiveness, now that he knows he was operating on false information. So who in the hell is this Runrun for real…

-Cut up to the Big Bow in a flashback. Runrun was hired by Naria, an outside consultant with skills in manipulation and hero assassination. A little independent action to make Genis’s life easier. With skilled manipulation, and a pollen that blocks all communication signals, Runrun can easily twist the situation around…

-Case in point? The other Ninningers want to interrogate Misao some more. And that mask that Runrun’s put on him to keep him from shouting, also lets him put words in Misao’s mouth and make him ‘confess’!

-In his head, the phantoms try to get through to him, you’ve got to get this mask off! But his hands are bound…He’s got to find a way to change the script…

-While back at the cabin, Takaharu and Yamato have to set this right…

-The next morning, the rest of the crew brings a bound and gagged Kinji. This is now a hostage exchange.

-Of course, transformation devices come out…Shuriken Change! Instincts Awakened! Yamato and Takaharu arrive too late to stop the fight, as things go from bad to worse…And now these damned fools have decided there’s only one way out of the situation, and that’s to win. When the duo see their respective Sixths, and free them…

-But both now have pride on the line, as it’s Shuriken Change, Instincts Awakened, and these damned idiots make it worse as they just end up fighting eachother. Oh my god you’re all dumb.

-And then Takaharu decides the only answer is to just smack everyone down and make them listen. And now Yamato’s the only one here not fighting, as he realizes something has to be up. Something’s in his head. In all their heads. Got to stay calm, focused, can’t take up arms…Got to disarm them!

-Which is about when Aka gets blasted by his own sister for getting in her way, and Takaharu slides back, at least calmed down enough to not be fighting anymore…But now neither of them have any idea how to get out of this situation…

-As both teams bring up their respective finishes, the narrators shouting all over each other! Yamato and Takaharu sprint into the center…And both nearly get shot by their teams’ respective finishing blasts, as explosions and chaos echo through the gym amidst Runrun’s laughter…

-And as the smoke clears, Yoshiharu arrives in time to see that cold open, to see both teams laid out on the ground…

-Which is where we’re going to stop for today.

Well I guess that’s it, no more Super Sentai! Tragic, really. I guess the rest of this series will just be about Genis conquering the world.

…Okay we all know I’m lying. Come back next time for the rest of the movie to see how the teams recover and team up for a big epic showdown against this teletubby-ass villain. Wait for it!

[kathyprior4200]

Docile

Docile sang a somber soft song as he walked out of his work building.

 “You were the sweet little angel with the bleach blonde hair

Carin’ and sharin’ when I caught your stare

Thought friendship would last, but life went too fast

Confidence in the black, I didn’t look back.”

 “Sang in choirs together and bathed me in light

Helped calm me down when I looked for a fight

You were radiant in your kindness and glow

Now I’m a dry sexless elf with nowhere to go”

 “You loved me like Jesus, yes

Not caring that I wasn’t the best

I wanted to be tough, but it wasn’t enough

I admit I was wrong

 So long.”

 Docile stopped as he spotted a swan princess Quartet singing a happy song.

 “My World Is Shining All Around Me!

My deep joy is what surrounds me, yeah!

The light life

I feel so happy

Free of hate and strife

I love you, dad.

You can always change

You’re honest

It’s never the same

It’s not a phase

It’s not a phase

Mom, I swear it’s not a phase

My World Is Shining All Around Me!

My deep joy is what surrounds me, yeah!”

Docile shrugged and continued on his way.

 He stopped short.

 “Holy spit,” Docile gasped. “Veronica?”

 “Docile,” Veronica replied with a small smile.

 Docile the elf stood still in his usual white work uniform, miniature rainbow grains of sand glinting among his bare feet. The ocean was a vibrant turquoise teal blue with flecks of gold on the surface. It was commonly called the Life Sea. (Rumor had it that beaches in Hell had black asphalt, red skies and blood red waters. The Dead Sea was the most popular.)  Heavenly seagulls with four small white wings squawked overhead while a few dolphins leaped in graceful arcs out of the water, clicking their hellos.

 Veronica was the same as Docile remembered: light blue skin and sparkling light blue eyes. Her hair was long and blonde, trailing almost past her waist. She wore a wavy white dress with gold frills and a few teal Xs and Os on it, along with golden glittery heels on her feet. A pair of white wings were folded behind her and a glowing white spiked halo hovered over her head.

 The two of them stepped closer, looking into each other’s eyes. It wasn’t necessarily romantic, but the feeling was strong. It was the feeling of seeing an old familiar friend for the first time…and wondering if they were really there.

 Veronica waved her hand in front of Docile’s face. “Heaven to Docile, I’m really here.”

 Docile grinned sheepishly, shaking his head a bit. “I…I can’t believe it. You’re really here.”

 Without another word, the two of them embraced. In that moment, both closed their eyes, feeling the warmth and energy of the other. They heard the ambience of the waves crashing onto the shore, the seagulls and a heavenly choir of cherubs in the distance.

 They parted and sat on two lounge chairs nearby. Veronica waved her hand and a sign read “Docile and Veronica: Reserved” on it.

 “You didn’t have to do that,” Docile remarked.

 “Might as well enjoy ourselves,” she replied, settling down in her spot. A large teal and white umbrella appeared behind them, shielding their heads from the sun. Veronica pulled out gold sunglasses and placed them over her eyes, enjoying the summer sun. Palm trees swayed in the breeze, dropping soft coconuts that looked like pom-pom balls.

 “Get out of that stuffy work uniform, won’t you?” Veronica asked. She hummed a tune to a love song. Even her humming would make the hearts of humans swell with adoration and happiness if they ever heard it. But unlike the lustful succubi and sinister sirens, the cherubs sang merely to spread love and joy.

 Docile, normally anxious to do his duties, merely sighed. He then revealed a small grin. “I hope you don’t mean what you may be thinking.” He slowly unbuttoned his white jacket, a wiggle in his eyebrow.

 Veronica laughed. “Goodness no.”

 Docile removed his jacket, teal collar, white gloves and blue undershirt, revealing a dark teal chest with black splotches on various areas. Waving his hands over his dark blue sclera eyes, a pair of sunglasses appeared with the frames shaped like golden harps.

 “My my,” Veronica exclaimed playfully, “The meticulous man actually has a sense of style and suaveness. Don’t make all the girls confess a bunch of new sins. They’ll forget the meaning of temperance seeing your form.”

 “Shut up,” Docile replied with a smile, sitting on the chair next to hers. “You know I’ve never been into any kind of sexual stuff. Plus it’s forbidden.”

 “Not if it’s for procreation and in the name of the Father,” Veronica mentioned. “Unlike sinners in Hell, we are free to enjoy ourselves.”

 “But I don’t want any kids yet,” Docile said. “I have work. Plus…there’s been a lot going on.”

 After a few moments, both of them stared at each other and said simultaneously, “There’s something I need to tell you.”

 Both erupted into giggles.

 “You first,” said Veronica.

 “No, you,” said Docile.

 “Rock, Paper, Scissors, Angel, Demon?”

 “How does that work?” Docile asked.

 “Scissors cut paper, paper covers rock, rock crushes scissors, angel beats demon, demon eats cock…erm, rock…”

 Docile raised an eyebrow and made a hissing noise. “No, no, no, too confusing. You go first.”

 “Okay,” Veronica said. She turned to him. “I…I really have missed you. I’ve been traveling around Heaven, often singing with my older sister, Kiva.”

 Docile grimaced. “Kiva’s your sister?”

 “Yeah,” said Veronica with a roll of her eyes and a look of annoyance. “She’s always been the self-righteous one. We’re both types of cherubs and are known for our singing and fame. But Kiva wants to take her fame to a new level. She’s gotten more attention than I have, and she’s basking in it! No one seems to care about what she has planned. As for me…well, nothing special really. I’ve been going on tour for a while, making new friends and trying to spread goodness to everyone. Not always easy but it’s still fun!”

 She conjured up a white shirt that read:

“Veronica’s Heaven Tour!

March 12 2021: Holy City, Humility.

March 19 2021: La Jophiella, Patience.

March 26 2021: Rapheal, Temperance.

April 2 2021: Donor City, Chasity.

April 9 2021: Ab-sin-ance, Chasity.

April 16 2021: Fidemville, Faith.

April 23 2021: Duty, Diligence.

Oct 28 2021: Fredrick, Maryland.”

 Veronica continued. “I haven’t seen you since…well…”

 “Since I joined the Exorcists via my parents’ request many years ago? Yeah…”

 Docile twiddled his thumbs. “I still regret that decision. I thought it would be a good way to get my foot in the door instead of doing all those mundane jobs all the time. I eventually got fired from it and after that…well, let me tell you what it was like first…”

 Docile still remembered training in the air with harpoons, spears, swords, shields and sometimes rifles decorated with Christian fish and crosses glowing in white. Although he had been a newbie, he had adapted fast. Docile had placed the gray horned smiling mask over his head, instantly growing taller and becoming stronger after pressing a button. Dark wings and a strong suit materialized over his body to fit him perfectly, artificial limbs merging with his own. Through the mask, he could see data, suit stats and heat signatures of all living things around him. There were also messages and a high definition view of his surroundings.

 “We do this every year for the greater good,” Archangel Michael had said to them as they got ready to fly through the portal. Michael paced back and forth in front of the Exorcists standing at attention. Docile nervously gripped his harpoon.

 “This holy crusade is one you have practiced many months for. Now the time has come to embark into the unknown with your brothers and sisters-in arms. Our job is to rid the population of evildoers as much as we can, so our citizens can feel secure and safe. It is our hope that Hell will eventually face its destruction and no more threat to our heavenly nation may loom upon us.”

 He continued with more fervor. “As the angels of death, you shall make your enemies fall and bring justice and righteousness to our land! The murderers, rapists, and heathens of your past will know their fate too late. Your ancestors will have peace and closure, knowing the evil will be cleansed for good. Songs of victory will be in your name. May your faith fly you forward! May the Lord’s Light illuminate your path! And may God be with you.”

 They all saluted and made the signs of the cross over their hearts as Michael waved his hand.

 The portal opened, revealing a hole of black and crimson.

 Docile flew through the portal, instantly seeing a red sky and being hit with a nasty odor. It was the odor of garbage, sulphur, smoke and pollution all in one.

 “So this is what Hell is like,” he thought.

 Docile soon learned that he was very wrong about those in Hell being red skinned vicious horned monsters wanting to corrupt all they saw. As he flew through the smog and the downtrodden meshed up buildings, he heard the discordance of screams. The Exorcists swooped down and started jabbing at the screaming denizens below. He could see traces of humanity and lots of fear in their eyes. The demons appeared strange, but they ran from the Exorcists like prey animals scrambling for their lives. He had been stunned that the Exorcists had mercilessly slaughtered everyone…even hounds, children and infants with no remorse. It had directly gone against “thou shall not kill,” thus questioning everything Docile had been led to believe.

 What was worse, however, was the fact that saints were killing sinners; former human was fighting former human. With psychotic glee, the Exorcists tore demons limb from limb, some dragging out their suffering. One demon was torn in two, while another was chopped into pieces, blood and viscera spraying in every direction.

 Some of his comrades let out mechanical devious laughs and taunts: “See that sinner scum explode!” “Die, devilish fiend!” “In the name of our Savior and all that is good!” “Our Heavenly kingdom shall reign forever!” “Come on, rookie elf! You’ll get left behind!”

 Of course, Docile did get left behind…after a demonic cat had led him to an abandoned theater where he almost met his end from a gang. After he was rescued and taken to a hospital in Heaven, he was instantly fired by Kiva.

 “After being ridiculed and shunned away, I joined a few choirs and even performed with my siblings Mia and Tia at the circus. I then decided to make E.L.F.” Docile explained to Veronica, after telling his story of being an Exorcist.

 “Whoa, you’ve been through a lot,” she mentioned. “I heard that Kiva got arrested on Earth, right?”

 “Yes. She wanted to bring a new Genesis to Earth.”

 “Brings me back to what I need to tell you. Verosika…I mean Kiva’s escaped and has gone back to Hell…I mean Heaven!”

 “Wait, what?” Docile stared in confusion. “You’re saying Kiva escaped?! How do you know?”

 “Archangel Gabriel sent the message. Kiva and her cherub crew are back…and apparently they’re searching for you.”

 Docile shivered inwardly.

 “Are you scared?” she asked.

 “No, just…concerned.”

 “I’ll be here to support you as much as I can. Just…please don’t leave me again.”

 “Okay.”

 “Do your parents still chide you for your choices?”

 “Sometimes. I’ve always wanted to be involved in theater and freedom but they never listen. So to help others and rebel a little, I formed E.L.F. to help heal humans. I want to show to everyone in Heaven that God really is good. It’s just that many angels in both Heavens have corrupted the system, turning Heaven into some elite club that only a few can enter. Everyone else is damned to Hell for the smallest errors.”

 Veronica stared in approval, brushing her long hair back. “Very impressive that you managed to keep hold of your business for so long.”

 Docile lowered his sunglasses, his eyes showing concern. “With Kiva coming back, I don’t know how long it’ll last. I’ve traveled to other worlds at least three or four times now in the past week or so. I’m surprised I haven’t been caught yet. Michael did let me off with a warning but I think it’s because he knows I’m trying hard. I’m one of few willing to travel to other worlds to try and do what’s right. But…”

 Veronica put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “But what?”

 “I d-don’t want to go down there forever.”

 His elf ears drooped as he spilled out one of his primal fears. “I think it’s only a matter of time. I couldn’t even save them. C.H.E.R.U.B. They’re already doomed. I can’t forgive myself.”

 “You have to be careful, Docile,” she said. “Forgiveness is a valuable process, not easy. Remember what Jesus taught us. It’s hard to forgive others but you also have to forgive yourself. This may be hard to hear, but you can’t save everyone. Maybe…not everyone deserves to be saved.”

 A brief silence.

 “I want to, though,” Docile confessed, tears forming. “It’s my duty…our duty to ensure life, liberty and everlasting happiness for everyone. This is paradise for Saint Peter’s sake!”

 “Unfortunately,” Veronica began, “There are things that even the Lord cannot comprehend. The cycle of good and evil has been going on since the dawn of existence. Without the communities of all these different worlds working together…I don’t think anything will ever change. The centuries-old system is designed for most humans to go to Hell and eventually perish by our kind. After humanity dies off in hundreds of years, Heaven will be the only world standing. And God’s review of his treasured creation will be complete. It gives the Exorcists jobs to do and keeps Hell in line via fear. Also, with humanity searching for eternal life and happiness thanks to C.H.E.R.U.B. and guardian angels appearing on Earth, their selfishness and stupidity naturally drags them down. The ultimate test of will and time.”

 “But surely God and Jesus can help us! They have to! They’d never let humans fail at their own games.”

 “No one really knows. Maybe God is too busy,” she said. “And perhaps He wants all of us to help ourselves. Angels, demons, humans…we’re all different yet not completely. He wants to see how we can collaborate together.”

 “Not very well in the grand scheme of things,” Docile admitted. “That’s what I have loved about you, Veronica. You are not afraid to speak your mind when you have to, just like me. It takes lots of courage to do so in such a pacifist society. You have a unique perspective that’s not present by many shallow sugarcoated denizens in Heaven. They get too wrapped up in their pleasures and pursuits to fully know what’s really going on. Not to mention humanity probably doesn’t even know that demons exist!”

 “They will eventually, if not already,” Veronica said. “And when they do, they’ll be quite terrified.”

 “I only hope we can help them before it’s too late.”

 “Same here, God willing.”  

 The two angels sat together in thoughtful tranquility as the world passed them by. What if Heaven, Earth and even Hell denizens were all just brainwashed sheep in the grand order of things?

 Finally Veronica stood up. “It was so wonderful to see you again in person,” she said. “Even though it wasn’t planned.”

 “Fate brought us together,” Docile said, standing up too.

 “Unfortunately, I gotta get back to my home in Chasity. I’m supposed to perform for a stuffy sex abstinence group and also a feminism empowerment group. Guess my music reaches a whole bunch of people. Pray that my sister doesn’t show up.”

 “I wish you the best of luck,” Docile said. “I hope to see you soon.”

 Veronica kissed Docile on the forehead and made a cross sign on his forehead. “Please don’t do anything reckless. May God be with you.”

 “May God be with you,” Docile repeated the gesture. They folded their hands in prayer before going their separate ways.  

 0 0 0

 The nightmares haunted Docile that night. He dreamt that he was being chased by a bunch of hungry figures. One of them was a laughing clown reminiscent of Bio-Rizz. His teeth were sharp and his evil laughter echoed in his ears. His eyes were empty black holes, his body burning in green flame.

 “Does anybody love you, Docileeeee?” he sang, emphasizing an “e” sound. “A prude. A loser. Docileeee!”

 Docile kept running as distorted carnival music blared around him. Metal black tentacles squeezed painfully around his chest and arms, pinning him in place. He felt himself being turned around and exposed by watching glowing eyes. He kept seeing spiral swirls and blinking stripes every which way.

 Free again, Docile saw ghostly white figures of Kiva, Veronica and his mother stand in the darkness. They stared accusingly at him as disfigured flying sheep played bloodstained instruments in the background.

 “You’re nothing but an incompetent failure,” Kiva remarked. “You call yourself a citizen of Heaven…your cowardly nature shouldn’t even be seen on our front steps!”

 “You will always be alone,” Veronica said in a low cold voice. “A clown. An impoverished fool. Searching for a dream that will never come true.”

 “An imp would be a better son than you,” his parents said, as they stepped forward.

 “No stop it!” Docile screamed. “That’s not true!”

 He pushed past them, assaulted by their taunts and jeers.

 Hurrying along, he felt himself drop and land on asphalt. He stood up and spotted Tirred, Timmid and Sunna. They all stood with their arms crossed, wearing glaring expressions.

 “You did this!” Tirred spat at him, mentioning to E.L.F. headquarters…or what was left of it. Flames licked and consumed the exterior, smoke turning the sky black. Several pieces of burning debris crumbled to the ground.

 Timmid was bawling, hands covering her face. “You’re a monster!”

 “No!”

 Docile’s bones turned cold as Sunna stared at him with pure unusual hatred.

 “You were never my dad,” she hissed. “I didn’t need you then and I don’t need you ever again!”

 Sunna took out white adoption papers and promptly tore them up with her claws. Docile tried to stop her, but his hand brushed right through her. On and on the shredding continued until the bits of white paper fell like snow onto the ground. Sunna stomped on the remaining pieces before trotting away.

 “Sunna, wait!” Docile cried, racing after her. But she soon grew farther away until his world filled with smoke.

 “Come and catch us!” cried a shrill voice. A blur darted by him, then another. Evil cackling rang out as bite marks appeared on his body.

 “Catch us if you can, elf man!” sang a figure. It was the face of Erebos. He held a flaming sword in one hand. Devvin held a spiked club and Dammna appeared behind him and burned his ears with a curling iron. Docile shrieked in terror as the Diablos came at him again. Docile felt his body turn to lead as the devils burned him, bit, hit and scratched in a ferocious frenzy. His blood turned red, black and golden as it erupted from him. Docile finally fell down Erebos’ mouth, struggling to breathe.

 Docile was briefly back at Samael’s palace but Samael wasn’t present. Instead, another elf stood with a rifle in his hand, standing before a carnage of corpses that littered the room. The corpses used to belong to the royal Ars Goetia demons. One of them was the main owl Stolas, his eyes blank, a bullet hole in his head.

 “Docile,” Soother said in a calm drawl, not looking at him. “Don’t you ever wish you could be something more? Living a life of no respect, in constant poverty and fear of being alone. No self-respecting elf should have to go through that. As Blitzo is part succubi, you’re part cherub. You have superior skill.”

 “Soother, this madness has to end. I already said…”

 Soother turned to face Docile, his teal face a snake’s face.

 “We could’ve done great things. You should’ve joined me when you had the chance. Now to finish my mission.”

 The snake snapped at Docile several times as he laughed in triumph. Docile plummeted again.  

 Docile landed at Heaven’s golden capital building, the Angelorium (opposite of Pandemonium). Above him and surrounding him was a council of stern white faced angels with golden eyes, paste-white faces and blonde hair, wearing elaborate robes. Some of the angels took on ethereal shapes and stars and galaxies. Others looked like many-eyed aliens with slender metallic eyeless faces and bendy bodies. Standing at a podium wearing a large white top hat was God himself, appearing as a large eye. He read aloud Docile’s sins for all to hear.

 “Disobeying Heaven’s rules about world-traveling. Sneaking out without permission. Almost destroying all worlds. Sympathizing with demon-kind. How do you plead, Docile?”

 “Not guilty!” Docile cried. There was a murmur of disagreement and disgust.

 “Has the heavenly jury reached a verdict?” He mentioned to angels with gravel heads.

 “We have, my Lord. On the account for the aforementioned offences, we find the defendant guilty.”

 “No, I’m not guilty! Listen!” Docile pleaded.

 But his words feel on deaf ears as two strong angels grabbed him by the arms and carried him out the door. He struggled in vain. “Let me go!”

 “I sentence you to eternal damnation for your crimes,” He said.

 “Stop! Stop! Let go of me!” Docile called.

 “Okay,” said one of the angels carrying him toward the edge. “We’ll do just that!”

 Docile was soon thrown harshly into the air, rapidly falling, falling, falling. The clouds vanished above him, while darkness and a red sky appeared. Docile screamed as both his wings caught on fire and crumbled away into ash. As he landed in a lake of fire, he felt himself drowning. Exorcists leered above him, tossing spears down toward him as he hastily tried to dodge. An angelic sword nearly missed his head as it landed in front of him and impaled a rock.

 A black mirror appeared in front of him and Docile could see his terrified expression. “I am forgotten,” was written in blood. A moment later, the reflected face shifted and turned red and white. Long curved striped horns grew and his ears vanished. His eyes and teeth turned yellow. He was soon looking at the face of an imp…an imp that was coping his every move! The imp in the mirror smiled sinisterly with golden teeth and said,

 “Welcome to Hell, fucker. Enjoy your stay.”

 Docile woke up in a cold panting sweat.

[magic5ball]

Nature Trail to Hell Arc V: Back into Hell (V)

Chapter 5: From Beneath it Lurks

           The basement. Every ten year old’s worst fear outside of Barney the Dinosaur. Or the Underworld. Or Tako Shak. Or your evil corporate shill self. 

You know, after all the crap I’d been through over the summer, the basement was penny beans all considered. Anyway, no one knows why the basement became such a dreaded place among children the world over, though its’ close proximity to the underworld might have something to do with it. And really, who was to say the low moaning from below was the furnace and not, say, Al-biblibop, Vivisector of Souls? Certainly not my parents, that’s for sure.

           Funny thing is, the basement probably wasn’t even that long, though when your only light source is a birthday cake candle clenched in your fist, the darkness seems to go on forever. Not to mention every stray gust from old Jack Frost felt like some sort of monster breathing. But worst had to be the walls. Whoever had dug this tunnel had dug it in a way that made the walls fold in on each other like some sort of giant black intestine, with gross streaks of pink where the Salisbury Steak had cut roots through the place. Once, back in 1st Grade, I’d gotten lost on the way back from the tinkle room and waltzed right into a high school health class right in the middle of watching a colonoscopy video. Walking through that tunnel felt like reliving that nightmare all over again.

Shatner, funny enough, actually seemed amused by this comparison, like I’d just told him a good joke.

           This didn’t exactly calm my nerves, though. We kept our cleaver at the ready, itching to slice a monster at a moment’s notice. But you know what’s worse than a monster lunging out of the darkness at you? When no monster lunges out of the darkness at you. Because that means wherever you are, even child-eaten cretins want nothing to do with it. And why would monsters not want to be around?

Better to not know the answer to that, let me tell ya!

Ten feet we endured this. Ten long, tedious feet before we saw something. Or somethings, to be exact. They were black. They were green. They were orange and blue and every color in between. And they covered the walls like scribbly little snakes!

“Cave paintings!” gasped Shatner.

Indeed they were, the sorts you’d find tacked to the refrigerator door. An dif there’s one thing little me knew about cave paintings, it’s that just like with picture books, illustrations tell 90% of the story! This particular one involved a mysterious race of creatures that looked like men, but with only four fingers (and they most certainly were four fingered creatures; not ‘poorly drawn stick figures’ as a certain partner of mine likes to claim. Anybody with a brain could tell you those pencil thin bodies were a stylistic choice! Stylistic!) Things got right eerie, though, when we realized the stick figures looked a bit too much like us and Hilda (with four fingers, of course. And in my case, too fat). The drawing started out with the three stick figures living as servants to some scribbly black cloud, until one day they summoned what I can only call the most butt-ugly depiction of a poop I had ever seen. Remember that one kid in kindergarten (you know the one) who’d take all the crayons and just go wild all over the walls? Now imagine giving that kid six lattes and free reign over your house. Somehow the thing looked even nastier than that! And for those of you wondering if it’s possible to make a crayon drawing so terrifying it can make a guy wet his pants in five seconds flat, let’s just say Shat’s drawers weren’t exactly the cleanest after he laid eyes on the picture.

“B-b-bob Sardoth!” he sputtered, all over the walls “Bob-Sardoth!”

“Whozat?”

“I envy your ignorance of the dark secrets man was not meant to know.” Shatner spoke all serious-like.

I rolled my eyes. It was the same thing my Dad told me whenever I asked if the Easter Bunny crapped chocolate eggs.

           As for the painting story, it went on to show that dark cloud, Bob Sardoth or whatever, got into the kid’s mean ol’ master. First things seemed hunky dory in happy funtime land, with them all hopping through a field of white flowers Shatner told me were mountain laurels while a rainbow arched above them. (Relatively hunky dory. In my book, that’s what Hell looks like.) But after that, things really took a dive: lots of violent scribbles everywhere and hundreds of people toiling at… something while the demon-possessed master and the one that looked like Hilda laughed menacingly on a hill, like they were villains who’d just jumped out of one of my Saturday morning cartoons. Things got even more messy when the stick figures rose up and started beating the crap outta the Master. If there was one thing I wished the paintings showed, it was the whole fight, but the artist must have gotten lazy, because what followed were a bunch of swirly dark clouds before cutting to the aftermath.

           The stick figures, triumphant (I think) held hands in a circle around some giant star, looking up at the sky with large round Os in the middle of their heads. At the center of this circle was that Bob-Sardoth guy, getting sucked into this cute little animal with whiskers and a sausage body.

“Freddie!” gasped Shatner.

There was no mistaking it. The stick figures might have looked a tad like us, but that poorly drawn weiner schnitzel was undeniably Fred. And just when I thought the whole thing couldn’t get any wilder, Shatner pointed out something else beneath the whole thing.

“P-primitive writing! I-I think I can decipher it!” he sounded like he was about to faint.

“Really? So those scribbles are in some ancient language or something?”

“Actually, cursive. Very, very poor cursive. Whoever wrote this should be absolutely ashamed of their penmanship.”

The cave shuddered, pieces of rock clipping against the floor.

“A-anyhow, it reads ‘This is the chaunt by which the people sealed Bob Sardoth: Eye-‘“

           Well, it must have been the Jack Frost’s birthday because he chose right that moment to blow our cake candle right out! Only to take back his wish, because five horrifying seconds later, the light came back on. Except now, there were only muddy black walls when art had once been. In their place, at the end of the tunnel, was a ring of light surrounding a little square door that should have rotted away when my Grandma was a kid.

“No,” whispered Shatner “Nonononononono…”

“C’mon.” I told him “we’re here. I think. Let’s get this over with before we freeze to death!”

Together, we opened the door- nice and slow, like two kids sneaking on Santa.

                                                    .   .   .

(Author’s Note: For those reading, the next few chapters are gonna need quite a bit of polishing up, so I’m afraid this story will be going on hiatus for another month so I can clean them up. Thank you for sticking with this story all this time, it means a lot to me, and I promise I’ll do my best to make these next chapters truly great.)

[my-mystic-messenger]

Suicidal MC

Uh la la, this tingled my angst-senses and I love it. Took me a while to write because I got stuck on Saeran for so long. Anyway, I hope you cry!

♛Jumin♛

His entire life Jumin has held tightly onto his control over everything. Even as a young child it had been a quintessential part of his everyday life. Everything he ever did was overlooked thoroughly and completed to perfection. That was, until you stepped into his life.

All of a sudden Jumin found himself faced with surprises, unpredictable twists and turns. One adventure after another awaited him and never once was he fully prepared for any of those things. For the first time in his life, Jumin was forced to let go of control. It wasn't easy at first, but for you he would have given up so much more than that. With every time you made him try something new it became easier. Be it going to McDonalds and eating 'commoners food' or singing Karaoke for the very first time. Around you all his walls began to crumble and despite all his protests and worries, his life was enriched by the constant challenges you threw at him. In fact, contrary to what he would have imagined, his work performance actually increased and his health bloomed too. The problem with giving up control, however, is that you can easily get lost in the freedom that comes with passing the reigns to someone else for a change. You tend to forget yourself and before you know it you are faced with a surprise that is equally unexpected as it is unpleasant. Jumin had been lulled into security until the day he got a call at work, the hospital informing him that you'd been brought in a couple of hours prior with an overdose of sleeping pills in your system. His entire world shattered in a matter of moments. Worst of all, you weren't there to tell him what to do and what to feel. Once more he found himself overwhelmed by this deadly numbness he hadn't experienced in so long he'd almost forgotten. Now it was back, hitting him with a force even worse than he remembered. On autopilot Jumin made his way to the hospital, his expression blank and his movements almost robotic. You'd opened a door to a new world to him and now he'd gotten lost in it. What was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to feel? The second he stepped into the hospital his name created a buzz, nurses and doctors swarming him in an attempt to gain his attention. He had none to give, too wrapped up in his own mind and fear as he brainlessly followed them to the halls to your room. They told him you'd tried to kill yourself, there was no other explanation for the amount of pills you'd taken. Apparently a brain scan had shown a severe case of depression. Frankly they were surprise you hadn't attempted suicide earlier with such a neurological malfunction. Things changed after that day. All the walls you'd shattered were back and all joy seemed to be stripped from him. His face turned to a constant, neutral mask matching his dead eyes and rigid body. His chest heavy with the heart that had turned to cold stone. From one day to another you turned from a wife to a prisoner. You had a guard watching you every waking hour Jumin wasn't around to do it himself, camera's installed everywhere in the penthouse. You even felt watched while going to the toilet. Jumin made sure your bags were checked every single time you went into and out of the apartment and he even hired a multitude of new psychiatrist for you to talk to every single day of the week. Privacy turned from a given to a foreign concept.

You stop smiling at him. You stop talking to him. You stop looking at him. He knows you've grown to resent him for caging you with his obsessive control, but he cannot allow himself to stop. He'd rather live in a world where you hate him than a world you no longer live in. 

☀Saeran☀

Settling down after everything that had happened to Saeran hadn't been easy. In fact, it had been a long, exhausting process for everyone involved making you hate Rika just so much more for everything she'd put the poor, vulnerable soul through. 

In fact, for the longest time romance was the last thing on either of your minds. Saeran was broken and aggressive, constantly commuting between rage filled fits and depressive episodes. Neither of which were easily controlled. It was around that time, that you first noticed that heavy weight in your chest but chose to ignore it. You needed to help Saeyoung with his brother and frankly, compared to the boy, your problems were far too mundane and small to complain. Your efforts started to pay off and with every day you worked on Saeran. Especially once the elixir was completely out of his system and he'd gotten over his addiction for it. From that moment on, things moves forward much quicker. It seemed like Saeran had been reborn. Sure enough he was still traumatized with all the effects of such a horrible life, but he opened up. The aggression was gone, replaced by the dire need to love and be loved in return. You happily obliged, watching him flourish under your and his brothers attention. He preened at every praise, eager to accommodate everyone expecting nothing in return but a couple of kinds words. He was truly sweet and pure. You started to pay him even more attention than even before, spend quality time with him to make him smile. You became an anchor in his life and before you knew it feelings had developed between the two of you that were far from platonic. Despite your better judgement, the two of you began dating. It was great, the two of you were happy but it did not make up for the fact, that neither of you had been ready to date. Saeran became obsessively attached and you began suffocating. You loved him, but you couldn't stand being around him. Guilt started to weight down on you, especially when you snapped ta him because being what he needed and wanted you to be, being happy, became too much all of a sudden. Leaving him, though, wasn't an option. Saeran was completely dependant of you and it was then that you realized your mistake. Instead of freeing him from Rika, you'd merely giving him a new vessel to attach himself to: you. The only solution you found, the only permanent way to set him free, was something that had been circling in your head for months if not years. That quiet voice in the back of your head whispering to you every night. This time, you listened. Saeran didn't take your suicide well at all. He blamed himself. He blamed his brother. He blamed the RFA. He blamed everyone for your weakness, everyone but you, and in the blink of an eye all progress was lost. He reverted to his former self, old anger boiling within him with a new intensity, one that you couldn't have predicted. He couldn't live without you, but he also couldn't join you without making someone else pay. The effects of such thoughts, were devastating. Saeran killed himself a mere month after your death, but he didn't go alone. For a month he'd been nothing but pained looks and kind words until he'd lured them in enough to blow them all up with him. He made sure the RFA paid for failing you.

📷Jihyun/V📷

With V gone for almost two years you'd had a lot of time to think and process all the things that had happened to you. The effects of the shock had eventually caught up to you, gradually pulling you down into a spiral of increasing numbness. You noticed that somehow Rika's words had gotten to you, burned into your mind no matter how much you tried to block them out. Sleeping became increasingly harder, her soft voice reminding you of that devil inside that you might have as well. You tried to push those darks thoughts away as good as you could for as long as you could. They weren't as bad as Rika's and you most certainly would never even consider doing the things she'd done, but just like her you were losing the battle. The RFA didn't help, particularly. Especially now that the blonde had opened your eyes to their misery. You could read it I their every text, see it every time you met. They were lost souls, meaninglessly floating through life. You tried to do what Rika had failed to: really help them. You listened to their woes and worries, helped them up when they fell and gave them all the support you could. In the end though, it just wasn't enough. It was never enough. Now every time you met with them you were reminded of your failure, reminded how temporary everything in life is, especially the good things. You couldn't stand it, so you tried to pull away, effectively alienating yourself. Eventually you decided to do something that Rika hadn't had the guts to do: call it quits before you harmed someone other than yourself. Of course that was the exact same day V decided to return from his travels with a new haircut and name. Being with him made things a little better, especially now that he'd completely mellowed out and found himself. His new, peaceful mindset calmed you and the two of you finally continued the relationship you'd started two years prior.

The problem with relying on love to chase the demons away, however, is the fact that love can only do so much and it certainly can't cure depression and trauma. Eventually it all comes crashing back in and sometimes even worse than before. Waking up in the hospital with Jihyun clinging to your hand after you'd pathetically failed to swallow enough sleeping pills, apparently, turned out to be one of the most embarrassing and altogether worst moments of your life. Sadly, it was merely a trigger to a lot of similar moments to follow. Starting with all the RFA members being torn between pitying you, being angry for not having talked to them and being scared that they were basically witnessing Rika's re-birth. Then came the way Jihyun looked at you like all the love for you had been shattered the moment you'd taken those pills. Worst of all, you'd expected such a reaction, you'd just hoped to be dead by the time he found you so you'd never have to see it. He didn't break up with you though. Instead he did the right thing and stuck around, watching you non-stop, making sure never to step on any of your toes. It was sickening, watching him revert to his old self because of you, nonetheless. He was kind to you, loving almost, but you knew better than to believe it. It was all a facade, his eyes giving him away. He resented you for what you were doing to him and you hated yourself for needing him. God, why didn't you just die?

[ljones41]

"THOR: RAGNAROK" (2017) Review

"THOR: RAGNAROK" (2017) Review Until last fall, the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) has released three films each for only two of the franchise's characters - Iron Man and (allegedly) Captain America. With the release of "THOR: RAGNAROK", the God of Thunder became the third character to end up with three solo films. 

Directed by Taika Waititi, "THOR: RAGNAROK" told the story of Asgardian prince Thor's efforts to prevent the destruction of his world, Asgard, from his aggressive and more powerful sister, Hela. The movie is the franchise's version of a similar story featured in one of the Marvel Comics titles for the Thor character. Screenwriters Eric Pearson, Craig Kyle and Christopher Yost also used elements from the 2006 Marvel story, "Planet Hulk" to include the Dr. Bruce Banner aka the Hulk into the movie's plot. Set four years after the events of "THOR: THE DARK WORLD" and two-and-half years after the events of "THE AVENGERS: AGE OF ULTRON", this film begins with Thor as a prisoner of the fire demon Surtur in Muspelheim. Thor had went there to search for the remaining Infinity Stones. Surtur reveals that Thor's father Odin is no longer on Asgard, and that the Asgardian realm will soon be destroyed in the prophesied Ragnarök, once Surtur unites his crown with the Eternal Flame that burns in Odin's vault. However, Thor frees himsel, defeats Surtur and claims the latter's crown, believing he has prevented Ragnarök aka the Asgardian version of the Apocalypse. Upon his return to Asgard, Thor discovers that his adoptive brother Loki has been posing as Odin. He also finds that a warrior named Skurge has replaced the all-seeing Heimdall as the Bifröst Bridge's sentry. Thor forces Loki to help him find Odin on Earth. With assistance from the sorcerer Dr. Stephen Strange, the pair finds Odin Norway. The latter explains that he is dying and that his passing will free his ambitious firstborn child, Hela the Goddess of Death, out of a prison in which she had been sealed. When he finally dies, Hela appears on Earth, destroys Thor's hammer Mjolnir and demands loyalty from him and Loki. Instead, the two brothers attempt to flee via the Bifröst Bridge. Unfortunately, Hela pursues them and forces them out into space to die. Hela ends up in Asgard and violently assume control of the throne. Thor crash lands on a garbage planet called Sakaar. There, he is captured by a bounty hunter, whom recognizes as a Valkryrie named Brünnhilde, and forced to participate as a gladiator for the planet's "Contest of Champions". He also discovers that Loki has become a companion of Sakaar's leader, the Grandmaster. And that Bruce Banner aka the Hulk has been a champion gladiator on Sakaar ever since his disappearance, following the Sokovia battle over two years ago. Thor not only needs to survive a match against the Hulk, but also escape from Sakaar and prevent his sister's complete control over Asgard and her plans for expanding the realm's empire. "THOR: RAGNAROK" had received a great deal of praise from film critics upon its release. In fact, the movie went on to become a box office hit. In a way, I could see why. The basic narrative for "THOR: RAGNAROK" struck me as a rare thing for a MCU solo film - an epic in the making. Thor facing a possible apocalypse for Asgard, a gladiator match against a fellow ex-Avenger, and more family drama from the Asgard Royal Family. "THOR: RAGNAROK" had the potential to be another "CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE WINTER SOLDIER". There was a good number of things I really enjoyed about "THOR: RAGNAROK". One, I enjoyed director Taika Waititi's use of the Led Zeppelin tune, "Immigrant Song" around the film's beginning and near the end rather effective. I was also impressed by Joel Negron and Zene Baker's editing for the film. Their work seemed especially impressive in the scenes that featured Thor's chaotic arrival on Sakaar and his gladiator match with the Hulk. I also found Javier Aguirresarobe's cinematography very colorful . . . almost outstanding. Hell, there was one scene featuring Hela's past conflict with the Valkyries that reminded me of Larry Fong's work with director Zack Snyder:

Much has been said about the humor that permeated "THOR: RAGNAROK", thanks to the screenwriters and especially Taika Waititi's direction. I cannot say that I had enjoyed all the humor featured in the film. But there were a few scenes that I found particularly funny. One included Loki's play about Odin's grief over his fake death. This scene featured Matt Damon, Luke Hemsworth and Sam Neill portraying Loki, Thor and Odin respectively. Brünnhilde's first appearance in the movie, in which she is drunk as a skunk, struck me as rather funny, thanks to Tessa Thompson's performance. Another scene I found hilarious was Thor and the Hulk's first meeting inside the Sakaar arena, along with Loki's fearful reaction to seeing the latter again. But the funniest scene - at least for me - featured Thor forcing a reluctant Loki to play a "Get Help!"trick (something from their childhood) on one of the Grandmaster's minions. The movie featured some first-rate performances. Chris Hemsworth gave his usual first-rate performance as Asgard's crown prince, Thor. Tom Hiddleston was equally impressive as the mischievous and self-absorbed Loki. Cate Blanchett chewed the scenery in grand style as Thor and Loki's power hungry sister, Hela. Tessa Thompson gave a skillful performance as the ambiguous former Valkyrie, Brünnhilde, who used alcohol to runaway from painful memories. Mark Ruffalo was excellent as both the mild-mannered Dr. Bruce Banner and his alter ego, the Hulk; who seemed more happy as a worshiped gladiator on Sakaar than as a wanted fugitive/Avenger on Earth. Jeff Goldblum was his colorful self as the Grandmaster; the gregarious, yet tyrannical and self-absorbed leader of Sakaar. Idris Elba provided much needed gravitas as Asgard's former gatekeeper, Heimdall, who found himself the leader of the realm's refugees from Hela's reign. Karl Urban was surprisingly entertaining as the boastful warrior Skurge, who would do anything to survive Hela's reign. The movie featured two cameos. Benedict Cumberbatch made a solid cameo appearance as the arrogant sorcerer, Dr. Stephen Strange. However, Anthony Hopkins' cameo as the dying Odin struck me as poignant and a lot more effective. Despite all of the above, despite the critical acclaim, "THOR: RAGNAROK" proved to be rather disappointing for me in the end. What went wrong? One problem I had with this film was its treatment of certain characters. Remember Lady Sif and the Warriors Three? Thor's closest friends who had traveled all the way to Earth to find him in "THOR"? And who helped him defy Odin and leave Asgard with Loki and Dr. Jane Foster in order to remove one of the Infinity Stones - the Aether - from the realm and the Dark Elves? Well . . . Lady Sif never made an appearance in this film. One would assume that actress Jamie Alexander had scheduling conflicts with her TV series, "BLINDSPOT". Then why not hire another actress to portray Lady Sif . . . as they had did with Fandral? But not only was Lady Sif missing, she was not even mentioned in this film. That was quite a head shaker for me. Another head shaker were the fates of the Warrior Three - Fandral, Volstagg and Hogun. Both Fandral and Volstagg were immediately killed by Hela upon her arrival on Asgard. I found that so disappointing and a waste of both Zachary Levi and Ray Stevenson's time. At least Tadanobu Asano's Hogun was able to speak more than one line and engage in a brief fight with Hela before she eventually dispatched him. But what made this so damn annoying was that Thor was never told about his friends' deaths on screen. Audiences never got a chance to see him react to their deaths. Believe it or not, I also had a problem with the Hulk. Well . . . I had a problem with his ability to form near complete sentences. How did that happened? Aside from uttering the phrase "Hulk smash!" in the 2008 movie, "THE INCREDIBLE HULK", I do not recall him ever speaking any sentences - complete or not. Not when he was portrayed by Eric Bana, Edward Norton or Mark Ruffalo. What I found even more puzzling was Thor's lack of surprise over the Hulk's conversational skills. Odin's death was handled in an equally questionable manner. First of all, from what did he died? What caused Odin's death? Being away from Asgard for so long? If so, the movie's screenplay was very vague in conveying this. And why did Odin's death lead to Hela's appearance on Earth? If she was in a prison, why did she not appear in Asgard upon her father's death? That made no sense to me. Movie audiences learned that Thor and Dr. Jane Foster finally had their breakup, following his departure from Earth two years earlier. I am already annoyed at Kevin Feige for hinting that Jane was not worthy of being Thor's love interest. Not worthy? Why? Because she was not a skilled fighter with or without super strength who wielded a sword or gun? Fuck Kevin Feige and his sexist bullshit. What made the news of the breakup even worse is that the news of Thor and Jane's breakup was treated as comic relief. Thor's breakup with a woman with whom he was in love for four years . . . was treated as a joke? Natalie Portman was right to dump this franchise. If "THOR: RAGNAROK" was about the God of Thunder's attempt to prevent Asgard from experiencing Ragnarok (or an apocalypse), why in the hell did it focus on Thor's activities in Sakaar for so damn long? Why did the movie stay on that damn planet for so long? Once Thor and the Hulk's gladiator's match had ended, I figured it would not be long before Thor would have left Sakaar with the Hulk, Loki and Brünnhilde. Instead, it nearly took them FOREVER to get off that planet. It was sheer torture watching Thor trying to convince the Hulk and Brünnhilde to help him get off the planet. And I found Loki's backstabbing shenanigans not only unoriginal, but lame. Come to think of it, I found Loki's presence in this film rather lame . . . except in the movie's last twenty minutes or so. He more or less became a punching bag for Thor and everyone else, than the dangerous and tricky villain he used to be. Once "the Revengers", as Thor called himself and the others, arrived on Asgard, it was . . . eh. I just did not care at that point. Their final conflict with Hela and Thor's decision to kick star Ragnarok (using Surtur's crown and the Eternal Flame) just could not lift me from my apathy toward this film. But what really sank "THOR: RAGNAROK" for me was the humor. I do not mind the occasional use of humor in an action film like this. I do not even mind when there is more humor than usual - especially in films like "GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY" and "ANT-MAN". But what I could not deal with was a barrage of humor in a narrative that featured the possible apocalypse of Asgard, the deaths of familiar characters and the further drama of the Asgardian Royal Family. Nearly everything was transformed into a joke - from Thor's discovery of Loki's impersonation of Odin, Brünnhilde's post-traumatic stress disorder (PTS) over the deaths of her fellow Valkyries, the reason behind the Hulk's longing to remain on Sakaar, the revelation over Thor and Jane's breakup, the Sakaarians' decision to rebel against the Grandmaster, and Hela's revelations to Skurge about hers and Odin's murderous creation of the Asgardian Empire. These were all plot points that should have been treated with a good deal more gravitas. And I could not believe that Waititi forced moviegoers to watch Thor argue with the Hulk's S.H.I.E.L.D. Quinjet over who was the most powerful Avenger. I mean . . . really? The Hulk actually went out of his way to program the jet's computer to acknowledge him as the most powerful Avenger? That scene was so unfunny that in the end, it became sheer torture to watch. Hela's constant complaints about her father's failure to appreciate her only reminded me of Loki's petulant man pain in "THOR". Only her carping was punctuated by jokes and witty comments. Worse, this barrage of humor prevented the screenplay from exploring Hela's revelations about Asgard's imperial past. The overuse of humor also transformed Thor's character. Everyone made such a big deal about Chris Hemsworth's comedic talents in recent years that I suspect that Marvel had decided to exploit it in this third Thor movie. Well, it turned out to be too much, as far as I was concerned. I have been aware of Hemsworth's comedic talents since "THOR" back in 2011. But Marvel picked the wrong movie and the wrong director to exploit that talent to an excessive degree. Hemsworth came off as some semi-witty California surfer than the Asgardian God of Thunder. Between the characterizations, the dramatic moments robbed for the sake of humor and the barrage of jokes, it was just too much. Unlike many film critics and MCU fans, I have always enjoyed the franchise's Thor films. Well, I certainly did enjoy the first two featuring Chris Hemsworth. But I cannot say the same about this third film, "THOR: RAGNAROK". It both annoyed and disappointed me on so many levels. Although I found the cast led by Hemsworth rather first-rate, I was disappointed by some of the film's characterizations and the plot holes. But I was especially disappointed by the film's use of humor. In the end, Kevin Feige, Marvel Films, the movie's screenwriters and Taika Waititi took a potentially epic comic book movie and transformed it into a long, goddamn joke fest. By the time I left the movie theater, I felt disgusted.

[doozerror]

But when that person literally made me kill my lover, left me and my remaining family and a few close friends to die, kidnapped me and held me hostage - I wouldn't ever love them!

Blarke Broken Record Lexa Hate volume #61

And yet... you all expect Bellarke to be a thing even though hes done the same repetitive shit over 4 SEASONS with even worse motivations.   Jesus Christ, How are you all clinging to this nonsense still?  HOW are you not seeing the hypocrisy in your own ship when making dumbarsed claims like that to demonize the lesbian that threatens your precious “unhealthy M/F trumps respectful F/F” trope “relationship”. Did you all seriously miss:      --Bellamy handcuffing clarke in S3 and dragging her to pikes cells/audience against her will where she would more than likely face obvious judgment, interrogation, and imprisonment for her support of the grounders and collusion with Commander Lexa - the leader of them all.       -- Clarke had bellamy drugged in S4, dragged into a bunker, held via handcuffs at gunpoint against his will (while his sister was condemned to death outside), and when he escaped got shot at by Clarke because he was endangering what mattered most to clarke which is and always has been the survival of her people and she was threatening what mattered (at this point in time) the most to him, his sister - such a constant and healthy respect to what matters to each other; especially after four seasons of “development” eh?  They still dont really care or understand each other on a personal level to go out of their way to respect each others feelings when making leadership decisions. They never go beyond the usefulness of a work camaraderie that frequently in itself doesnt make any sense due to the repeated breaking of trust between the two.   -- Bellamy goes out to get the water device in S4 to save 500+ people with the end of the world fast approaching, but idiotically chooses 25 over that 500 (25 that are going to die anyways, without that water device) - then lets clarkes make the list while he snoozes;  A heavily reduced number he was a direct cause of and dumps the now even more difficult list of responsibility on her, while also forcing her name on the list and never questioning if his should be on there - he shouldve crossed his own out - hes not a good leader, and he has no valuable skillset beyond idiotically murdering people.  Dont get me started on clarke putting bellamys name on there after all the lives he’s ended that WOULDNT make it onto that list because of yet another one of his dumb decisions clarke just lets go.  Seriously, clarke is an unhealthy enabler of bellamys problems - hes not learning because shes there to do it all (and take all the shit it develops) for him while he sits and stagnates in problematic territory with his pathetic angst and blames others for his problems, like clarke and octavia.  Like a parent doing her kids homework, or never addressing her own kids bullying of other students and instead just praises him with no discipline.  Now give that kid a gun.  Now imagine that kid is 7-8 years older than you.  Yeah, fucking stupid.    -- Bellamy condemns Lincoln in S3 and his fellow grounders and allies (INCLUDING ENDANGERING KANE, MILLER, SINCLAIR, OCTAVIA, AND ABBY - as well as the whole of Arkadia, CLARKES FRIENDS AND FAMILY AND CLARKE HERSELF) to a jail cell and execution while also being denied basic medical care, threatens and disrespects his own sisters choices to associate with and also be a grounder; bell rather sides with a man who has no qualms in killing such folk and their supporters.  WHere in the hell does bellamy think this road is gonna go?  How stupid can you be?  Basically ignores clarkes power of influence in polis to keep an eye on lexa and does his own recklessly shortsighted and dangerously over emotional shit within his own ignorant bubble - shit that could've very likely put clarkes and HIS PEOPLE’S lives in a whole lot of danger.     -- Bellamys whole “DEATH TO THE GROUNDERS!” alongside pikes regime of shortsighted xenophobic prattle basically led to the buildup and uprising in polis that got lexa CLARKES LOVER killed (yes titus shot the gun, but WHY was he so nervous to begin with, what pushed him into that extreme? Arkadia’s xenophobia and grounder slaughter, correct!) - not to mention the whole descending into chaos because lexa wasnt there to play mediator with the well respected commander chip.      --  Lets go back to season 1, when the ship started to build iteself - where bellamy condemned the ark to cover up his cowardice of facing justice for shooting Jaha, he was willing to let AN ENTIRE ARK die INCLUDING CLARKES MOM, to save his own ass.  But yes, lexa is the evil one - got it. (This is just a small handful, i can find more if you still dont see how irrational youre being in regards to this spite for C/Lexa on this level.) And yet...with ALL THAT SELFISH SHIT surrounding both characters OVER 4 SEASONS (no development really, how dumb is that!?), ALL OF THESE MATCH THE CRITERIA TO A GREATER (if not repeated) EXTREME IN WHICH YOU DESPISE LEXA - Be||arke still seems to be strongly supported by you hypocritical lot while lexa gets shit on. Crazy... At least lexa had Clarke’s interests in mind (her peoples survival, clarkes mental health and importance of her survival for arkadia\grounder relations, and her own peoples adjustments to coexist with skaikru - if ice nation got their hands on clarke, its a safe bet skaikru AND clarke, as well as her mission for peace were all royally screwed) when she “Kidnapped” her (clarkes presence was necessary for a bigger purpose; one lexa knew she would care about at her core, also clarke was being self destructive - lexa cared for clarke, can you sit and watch someone you care about self destruct without intervention?  Communication is necessary for either party to address problems before moving forward.)  and “held her hostage” (yes, holding her in a lavish guest bedroom with free reign of the grounds temporarily until her own people got there to take her home so ice nation wouldn't have the opportunity to kill her was totally monstrous, EVIL!!) and then so obviously devolved into this weird stockholms syndrome bullshit you all cling to without any real understanding of the condition or evidence of it in the show to base it on.  NONE of that has been supported by writers, showrunner, or actresses.  Seriously, go find your common sense guys - you seemed to have dropped it in your senseless hardcore shipping of a heavily problematic to downright abusive crackship that Jroth has been spending 4 seasons hopelessly butchering to horribly railroaded and nonsensical extremes. And lexa didnt force clarke to kill Finn, that was entirely finns doing - Clarke chose to mercy kill because face it, there was no other way out of the situation for him.  Dont erase finns deeds and pin it on the lesbian who was as much a victim of the circumstances HE put into motion with needless slaughter.  He captured and murdered innocent people without provocation, raided their village; a crime he stepped forward to face their justice for to not only atone but also ensure an alliance could exist between the two peoples - something finn had attempted back in s1 before suffering a nonsensical jroth 180 for shock value.  They have a 100 yr old culture based on “blood must have blood” - you saw what happened when lexa decided to change that, what did her people do? Titus was reflection of the anger, betrayal, and scorn of the grounder population.  And what happened to Lexa?  Yeah thats exactly why you dont rush big changes like that into an entire friggan culture.  It HAS to be gradual so an understanding can be grasped.  Something lexa was attempting to do, as we saw when instead of annihilating the ark decided only to barricade until a prisoner bargain could be reached, but then got rushed because she “Had to die” for nonsensical shock value.  Lincoln himself told you all WHY she couldnt just let finn live, but like always youre all willing to ignore large chunks of the show to demonize the lesbian that threatens your ship.  Your motivations are so disgustingly shallow its pathetic...

But yeah, sure, Lexa was the despicably evil one.  No wonder youre the only fanbase left watching jroths garbage.  No brain needed for the shit he peddles out these days due to how nonsensical and inconsistent it all is so you can hope that bellamy will one day force himself onto clarke.  All the racist undertones, the colonist narrative, all those offensive creative decisions you berate the clexas for supporting but then continue supporting the show itself that perpetuates them...  Lets face it, Thats really what this show is all about to you lot, right?  Bellamy giving clarke what the stupid bitch deserves right? Nothing more. His dick and repeat abuses that clarke should condone and cater endlessly to in this heavily one sided ship of douchebaggery.  So romantic.  Shits not even healthy on a platonic level... but yeah sure, the 1oo is all about bellamy and clarke.. its too bad its turned into poorly written shit to prop up bellamy while turning clarke into a meek subservient woman catering to his mass murdering shitstorm causing feelings...

[winterscribe]

I think I’m going to have to write a decent length time travel fic that’s like an au of an au. (It’s not the first time but this one makes more sense than the Doctor Who Vampire Hunter D crossover version of Blood and Ash) I’ve sorta talked about it before, where a past version of D and Avaleara are brought to the future with a couple other people, but I think it needs to be more than a quick 5k oneshot like I was sorta planning. Hopefully it’ll just be a side project written when the main story inspiration fizzles out.

Like I keep coming back to this concept again and again, which ends up blocking me from actually writing the main story. I’d reign it in but it’s actually useful- its a way for me to explore the differences between who they were and who they become, and explaining how events happen/ things work often leads to filling in plot holes and strengthening weak world building.

Ok so “talking” it out really helped and I think I got a great core idea and now it’s time to start working on writing it. I’m putting a read more here because my thinky thoughts got as long and rambly as usual. It’s the base idea so a lot might change but feel free to take a look. 

The biggest issue I see with actually writing it down is that which characters and which time periods are brought forward switch a lot. I tend to use characters from whichever VHD book I’m reading at the time but that concept rarely lasts longer than a few days of playing around, not strong enough to sustain an actual project. I used to use Doris and Dan Lang, back a few years ago. I used to say she and D got married and then she died of old age, very tragedy much sad, wow. I got a looot of imagination mileage out of that concept. Then I saw some meta about how off that once scene is and realized ‘oh yeah that is kinda really fucked up never thought about it that way’ and cut that out of my mental D’s backstory.

I think I’m gonna have to bring it back- highly edited though- if I want to actually make this a project. I love love love the idea of D having had a human wife, who died of old age but now is brought to the future where D’s living this awesome life with a new wife and kids. Not because I’m an asshole that wants to torture them, but because I love the idea of exploring those conflicting feelings, like        -He’s happy at last and I want that to be enough but I wasn’t enough to make him this happy and I hate that I’m so selfish and angry- There’s a whole mess of complicated feelings that is very very interesting to me, especially when I pair it with the resolution of -4000 years after I died he still talks about me, he still misses me. His children never met me but they know my name and stories about the life we shared, He made a space for me in this new life even though I’ve been gone for so long, I can still hear the same love in his voice 4000 fucking years after I died-

Like I don’t care enough about it to create a whole OC, -actually that’s a lie I do but I am SHIT at creating OCs specifically for them to die (D’s youngest daughter was inspired by If I Die Young by the Band Perry. It no longer fits her. At. All.) Plus I LOVE D’s relationship with Dan Lang, I mean come on! “Why don’t you do your big brother a favor and get his horse ready,” Mother fucker D is awesome with other kids in other books but DAMN no other kid is called his Brother OK I love it I love that relationship it is the best part of any VHD book IMO. So. If I gotta rework Doris ‘I’ll violate my employee’s personal boundaries’ Lang until she’s so OOC she’s practically an OC I. WILL.  (And yeah Its VERY enticing to have a grown up Dan like....  I want to be grumpy and hate D’s new wife on principle cuz she’s not my Sister but dammit I’ve never seen my brother so happy Fuuuuuck)

So I think I’ve come to terms with having Doris as D’s dead wife. That particular scene never happened, I’ll figure out exactly how they got together later and I get Dan Lang as D’s little brother.

Now to decide whether or not I’m bringing in Avaleara’s past. I like toying around with bringing her forward because she was so so very different before Xahros tortured her. She was sweet and innocent and I love playing with the shock when she and her family realize how brutal and angry she becomes. The horrified realization that the sweet innocent Avaleara that is terrified of her family legacy and just wants to be a healer becomes a woman full of RAGE who is willing and able to brutally rip someone apart with her bare hands. I love playing with a Future Avaleara, who, when confronted with who she used to be, shows the worst of who she became because she’s always felt less after, like no matter how much she Heals and Becomes everyone who knew her Before would do anything to get back the sweet innocent child she used to be. I love imagining the comparisons between Xahros and D before they realize what Xahros did. I love having them look at D and hate him because he isn’t sweet or romantic and wonder how the hell Avaleara “settled” for him after Xahros’s great example. I love imagining the moment of horrific realization, when they find out that Xahros, sweet gentle romantic Xahros, took Avaleara apart piece by piece and Avaleara had to rebuild her entire sense of self around the cracks he left. I love imagining them looking at D after finding out and realizing that he’s more different than Xahros then they imagined, not just superficially but in every way that matters. I love imagining the moment they stop scoffing and start looking and seeing the little moments, and realizing how performative Xahros’ affection was and how genuine D’s is, even if its blink and you miss it (to a stranger’s eyes at least) 

I like bringing the humans forward a bit more, if only because it gives me a great chance to explore the world. D’s too jaded to have much of a reaction and even the more expressive Left Hand has seen the Vampire Civilization at it’s peak. La Shevare may be wondrous and alien but these two aren’t the best to explore that. Bring a bunch of humans forward, just jaded enough they won’t pass out in shock/fear but still able to be amazed and show it? They’d be spinning like a top trying to take it all in and I could have a world building field day!

Having both at the same time would be too much but if I staggered it... just as Doris and Dan are wrapping their heads around everything, Avaleara’s past is brought forward. Then, Avaleara would change- Doris and Dan were told she was dangerous, were told she was being careful not to be Too Much, and knew she had demons as loud and vicious as D’s. But it’s one thing to be told and another to see her, no longer charming but snappish and snarling, graphically describing how if felt to be skinned alive, throwing her weight and power around, getting into brawls left and right, angry and dangerous. They know her just enough now to tell that she’s still in control, still holding the worst at bay so she doesn’t frighten the humans that D loves, but that’s almost more terrifying, knowing that this isn’t the worst, isn’t even close to it and the only thing keeping her contained is her love of D.

I think it would be funny too, Doris and Dan, these tiny little fragile humans and they’re wary of Avaleara’s anger sure, but well, they love a Dhampir and they’re frontier survivors, they’ve seen worse and Know D would never let them get hurt even if they don’t yet trust Avaleara to keep control. Meanwhile this new handful of people are shaking in fear, blindsided and overwhelmed by a relatively tame display of anger and grief. Just the image of a couple human kids rolling their eyes while a pack of demons quake in fear is hilarious to me. I mean its tragic, and I’d love to explore that too, but its also funny as hell.

Yeah. Yeah I think I have the core of a good idea here and I think it’s time to start actually working with it. This stream of thought exercise helped a lot and now that I’ve figured out how to combine my favorite elements of this concept into one story I might be able to write it out and get it out of my head so I can work on the actual Blood and Ash “Cannon”