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lennjamin-o7 · 2 years

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🌯🗡️ back just to quickly say with the “I think you might need to be wary of the "accidentally" in that sentence.”

Phil: (maybe) deliberately delays the trip so that when techno comes to the manor, his parents might be mad at him and present an opportunity for him to drive a wedge between them so he can get more trust / use it as a “well they were dicks so really I’m saving you” excuse before adopting tech

Phil: “This will work out perfectly and techno probably won’t even realise what I’ve done until too late!”

Techno: gets scratched on the cheek pretty badly, gets his hair shaved off and then gets locked in his room ignored and alone just to top it all off.

Phil: 👁️👁️

Phil: “I may have miscalculated just a tiny bit. Slightly bigger wedge than I was expecting but I’m used to improvising at this point”

The real magic behind this royal family is the way they’re constantly able to fuck up literally ANY plan Phil has with them. Purely just a “oh you think you’re bad?? Watch this!” And then they just accidentally neglect their son.

The royal family: “We have 2 perfect children. It’s not really our fault when we compare the normal one to them and punish him harshly because if it!”

Phil: “You’ve fucked up a perfectly good sonboy is what you did! Look at him. Now he has self worth issues ON TOP of anxiety!”

That and just:

Phil, finally coming face to face to renegotiate the deal: “You’re not leaving until I get my son.”

The royals: “Don’t you mean daughter??”

Phil: “I know what I said”

Or:

The king and queen: “We want nothing more than to have our children happy and safe which is why we’re going to the queen of fae to negate this deal”

Techno: Would genuinely intimately be happier and safer if he was adopted by Phil and Kristin. He gets to experience everything they deprived him of ON TOP of becoming immortal and having 2 of the most powerful fae in existence willing to go to battle for him in a HEARTBEAT

The king and queen: “No not like that-“

As well as:

The king and queen: “Wow we’re such good parents!”

Phil: Provides a better parenting experience in a single evening than they did in their entire lives of having 3 children

Phil: Steals the one child they never truly appreciated and gives him the best life POSSIBLE to make up for all that he missed and went through

Phil: “And I’d do it again BITCH”

I genuinely just adore the thought of Phil having just CONSTANT beef with them, like it’s not even about the deal anymore he’s just mad at them over their parenting skills. Just doing ANYTHING he can to fuckin upstage them, bro has beef with them down to the BONE with how mad he is.

Phil: Deliberately has Kristin make winter colder just so the king and queen like have problems heating the castle and their kingdom struggles

The king and queen: “Damn it’s fuckin way too cold this year”

Phil: “And that’s what you deserve! I fuckin PRAY you freeze”

Techno: Shivers slightly

Phil: “Oh my baby, my poor sonboy. Do you want some enchanted blankets to keep you warm? What about some Totally Not Magical stew to make you extra toasty?? Maybe even a heating enchantment on that earring???”

Bro will forever be their BIGGEST hater. He wakes up every day and tries spread as many bad vibes onto them as possible. He literally worked out a way to magically make sure both sides of their pillows would be warm. That’s the level of hating he’s been on.

Or that meme with I receive vs you receive:

Phil: “Here’s the deal, I receive a perfect sonboy who I can dote on and adore with my wonderful wife for the rest of forever”

Phil: “You receive me not obliterating your entire bloodline and taking the kid anyway”

The king and queen: “I can’t help but feel this real might be a little bit uneven”

Techno: “Do I get a say in this like at all??”

Phil: “No ❤️”

That 1 sentence just spurred on so much brainrot for me I couldn’t help but share! My brain created like 50 different pathways just to brainrot and come up with more scenarios. I’m like going back and checking for spelling mistakes and I’m literally only just realising now how much I’ve written lmao

As always, have a nice day and I’m sorry if I’ve overwhelmed!

Phil. Maybe not the King of the Fae, but certainly the King of Improv. He is an opportunist. They opportuniest of opportunists. He is 'Yes, and?'ing this adoption.

Techno is just a little guy. A little guy with a big heart. He needs some attention. Some love. That shouldn't be too much to ask. And yet-

And Yet-

Enchanted blankets, you say?

But Yeah, Philza is not happy about the state of the sonboy. He should have been better taken care of. Don't worry. :) He's got this covered :)

Bro, sorry it took me so long to respond. But I adore every SYLLABLE of all of your brainrots. Literally. Never apologize. I am so glad you sent them. <3 <3 <3 <3

#🌯🗡anon #ask and ye shall receive #sweeter than honey #lenn writes

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whentheynameyoujoy · 4 years

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Yup, Sure Was a Finale

I had an epiphany. The reason why I never re-watched the final two parts of Sozin’s Comet even though I’ve popped in episodes at random many times over the years isn’t that I can’t bear the sadness of seeing one of the best, most engaging narratives out there come to an end.

It’s simply that the finale isn’t all that good.

Some honorable mentions of what was enjoyable.

(+) This

Just this.

(+) The Church of Zutara has another convert

“Are you sure they don’t get together?” Hubster, 2020

(+) The tragedy of Azula

And the fact that it’s acknowledged as such. I hope Zuko will do his best to get her help and have a relationship with her…

(+) Sokka being a big bro

And the whole airship sequence in general. It’s wonderfully paced and plotted, with moments of humor, real stakes, Toph being both badass and a scared crying kid, Sokka strategizing and protecting, Suki saving the day, and non-benders being instrumental in thwarting the bad guy firebender’s plans. Would be shame if Bryke never portrayed them this capable ever again…

And now for the main course.

(-) Blink and its over

The wrap-up feels too quick (hashtag Needs More ROtK-style False Endings). A part of this is due to how fast the story goes from the thick of the action to hastily tying up a bunch of loose ends, but the larger issue is how Book 3’s uneven pacing comes home to roost. After spending half a season on filler episodes that at best subtly flesh out established characters while dancing around a huge lionturtle-shaped hole, and at worst contradict the theme of “no one is born bad” with “you’re a hot mess because your great-grandfathers didn’t get along too well”, the frantic “go go go” rush of the second half screeches to a halt with “they won and everyone was happy because now the right people have power and it will be all good from now on yup nothing more to deal with baiiiii”.

Yes, I know, it’s a kids’ show. But goddamn, this particular kids’ show has proven so many times it can do better than the expected tropiness. Showing the characters in their roles as builders of a new world was the least that could have been done.

Oh well!

(-) Ursa

We’ll never know. There will never be a story that delves into this. Yup. Shall forever remain but an intriguing mystery. Is good, though. Mystery is better than a story where Ursa shares her son’s penchant for forgetfulness. Imagine how embarrassing that would be. Speaking of which…

(-) What does Mai see in this jerkbender?

Look, I like to harp a lot on the mess of inconsistent writing that’s Mai but let’s unpack this scene from her perspective, shall we?

Zuko forgot about her! It totally slipped his mind that the one person who prioritized the safety of his dumb ass was rotting in the worst prison in the Fire Nation—because of him! And she was rotting there long enough after the final Agni Kai for the news of Zuko’s upcoming coronation to spread and her uncle to feel sufficiently secure to release her. But then the coronation scene is attended by every single member of Gaang & Friends that was imprisoned?

So what this tells me is that either a) the invasion force had the ability to break themselves out the whole time and for some reason decided not to exercise it until after the war was over, b) Zuko forgot about them as well and no one thought to remind him there were prisons full of POWs until Mai arrived, or, and that’s even better, c) Zuko took care to free every single resistance fighter while making sure Mai would be the one to stay behind bars.

Never thought I’d say this but Mai? Honey? You deserve so much better.

(-) “What does Katara want?”

Asked no one in the writers’ room ever, apparently.

This is not so much anti Cataang as anti romance stories that pay attention to the needs, opinions, and wants of only one partner in general. Over the previous 60 episodes, Katara actively expressed romantic interest in Aang exactly, wait for it,

Once.

And it got retconned out of relevance by the following two interactions where the possibility of a romantic relationship came up, making the Headband dance pretty easy to reclassify as just one of those examples where Aang “teaches” Katara to have fun (as if one of the main obstacles to her having fun wasn’t him constantly fooling around and offloading his duties). And because the writers not only didn’t succeed in portraying Katara’s internal state of mind, but also failed to root her reluctance to pursue a relationship in outside circumstances that could change, her sudden state of unconfused once Aang steps into the spotlight has a single canonical explanation that as much as approaches coherency.

The fact is, though, that trying to interpret canon Cataang from a Watsonian perspective is an exercise in foolishness. Because there is no Watsonian justification for the ship and never has been. Bryke simply conceived of Katara as nothing but a tropey prize for Aang, never saw her as anything beyond that, and were perfectly happy to go on and immortalize her as a passive broodmare for the rest of her life.

And I fully intend to die mad about it.

(-) Iroh dips

OK, it’s been long apparent that the show doesn’t intend to do anything about Iroh’s complicity in AzulOzai’s regime in any meaningful way, and that his sole motivation for doing anything whatsoever is Zuko whom he views as a replacement son which is supposed to be good for some reason. But the finale has him abandon even that, and instead turns him full-on YOLO, idgaf anymore. It really throws Iroh’s supposed love for Zuko into doubt when his last act in the entire show is to take a half-educated 16-year old with no political savvy or an heir to secure a dynastic continuity and plomp him on the throne of a war-mongering imperialist regime where the entirety of the militarist and ruling class is guaranteed to fight him tooth and nail for power.

(I sure hope Mai’s ready to start popping out babies by tea-time otherwise the whole country is fukd in about a week)

Christ, how hard would it be to have Iroh keep the throne warm for a few years while Zuko is getting ready to succeed him? Not only would it make the whole FN reformation bit quite likelier to occur, it would require Iroh’s hedonistic ass to actually sacrifice something for once. And not having Zuko ascend to power, instead spending some time bettering and educating himself first, would be a wonderful message that no matter what you endured and overcame, you never stop growing. A kids’ show, remember?

(-) The conquering of Ba Sing Se

Gee, I feel so blessed to have my attention diverted from battlefields which actually matter to an old dude vanity project I would have been perfectly happy to assume resolved itself off-screen.

The White Lotus in general just bugs me. I was fine with the individual characters and their overall passivity when they were portrayed as lone dissenters living under circumstances where it wasn’t really possible for any single person to mount a meaningful resistance. But as members of a far-reaching shadowy organization that’s left the real fight to a bunch of kids for 59 episodes straight and didn’t turn up until a perfect opportunity presented itself to take control of the largest city in the world and bask in the spotlight?

Yeah, no.

Similarly to the lionturtle-ex-machina, the White Lotus represents a huge missed opportunity for a season-long storytelling. Here’s just a brief list of what they could have been doing throughout Book 3:

orchestrating a Fire Nation uprising;

gathering those directly persecuted by AzulOzai’s regime to help Zuko keep his hold on power once he’s crowned;

establishing themselves as a viable alternative to Ozai;

sabotaging Fire Nation’s war efforts from the inside;

countering Fire Nation propaganda (Asha Greyjoy’s pinecones, anyone?);

running a supply network to alleviate the suffering of Earth Kingdom citizens.

Instead, they sit on their asses until the time comes to claim personal glory.

You know what, good on Bryke for making me conclude that in comparison, the Freedom Fighters were perfectly unproblematic, actually.

(-) Fire Lord Dead-by-Dawn

Yes, a kids’ show, I know! But ffs, this is the same kids’ show that came up with Long Feng and portrayed courtly intrigue, kingly puppets, secret police, spy networks, and information wars. Was it really too much of me to expect something other than “enlightened despot solves everything”? Especially if said enlightened despot has persisting anger issues, no personal support system, no base of followers, and no political experience whatsoever?

If Zuko’s actually serious about regaining the Fire Nation’s honor (i.e. by dismantling the country’s military machine, decolonizing the Earth Kingdom, paying reparations to everyone and their lemur, and funding any and all cultural restoration projects Aang and the SWT come up with), then there is no way, no way in the universe that he doesn’t face a civil war, deposing, and execution within a month.

One reason why his future as a Fire Lord seems rather bleak is that little’s been shown about the actual subjects of AzulOzai’s regime. While we get a vague reassurance that “no Toph, they’re not born bad” (le shockings), they largely remain a voiceless uniform mass of brainwashed clapping seals. What is their view on the Fire Nation’s crimes? Do they associate their condition with their country’s war-mongering? How will they react when Zuko starts dismantling the country piece by piece to rebuild it, bringing it to economic ruin? What will they do when noble Ozai loyalists come out of the woodwork and begin rounding them up under the banner of “Make the Fire Nation Great Again?”

I have no idea, and Zuko doesn’t either because he’s unironically more qualified to rule the Earth Kingdom than his own people.

You know what would have been better? Fire Lord Iroh, White Lotus pulling the strings to maintain the regime, and Crown Prince/People’s Champion Zuko travelling the Fire Nation with Aang and an army of tutors to promote the new boss, only to realize that absolute monarchy is kinda crap for the people he’s one day supposed to rule and gaining their support by ceding some power to them.

I’d laser holes into my TV due to how much I’d enjoy watching that.

(-) All hail Avatar Rock

Literally and metaphorically. Aang doesn’t sacrifice anything, gets everything, and the clever solution of going about getting said everything is handed to him on a silver platter, requiring no active participation on his part whatsoever.

He doesn’t work to unblock his chakras, spiritually or physically.

He only speaks to his past lives to get a pat on the back and a bow-tied solution he could mindlessly follow.

Energy-bending doesn’t require any sacrifice from him, leaves no lasting marks, and only serves for the narrative to praise him as the rare individual that’s unbendable and thus so very very special.

The most infuriating thing is, however, that Aang is clearly shown as being able to beat Ozai without either the Avatar state, or energy-bending.

And he chooses not to. From this moment on, Aang no longer fights to save the world. He fights to preserve his beliefs, going directly against the instructions of his past lives and effectively reneging on his duties as the Avatar.

Again.

It’s not like you can’t portray Aang’s faithfulness to his spiritual beliefs as the key to beating Ozai and saving the world. But that’s not what the show did. There is no link between Aang sparing Ozai and securing a better future, quite to the contrary—Ozai’s survival ends up being a massive problem for the continuation of Zuko’s rule, and consequently a threat to the world at large. His survival benefits Aang and no one else.

Aang’s spiritual purity and his status as a savior of the world are allowed to coexist only due to a deliberate stroke of a writer’s pen.

And I hate it.

Welp, nothing to do about it now except to bury myself up to my tits in fix-it fics I guess.

#atla #atla rewatch #meta #zutara #anti bryke #anti-kataang #anti-aang #anti-maiko

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crystalelemental · 2 years

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Unit Teambuilding - Ingo

Alright @books-are-my-life-stuff, here we go. Ingo! He’s on this banner, and thank god because Moltres continues to be an asshole. Ingo is often presented as one of the best supporters in the game, and that is...a very high bar to live up to. So let’s see what this funny train man with sad recent lore has to offer.

General Overview Ingo is, to my knowledge, the only support unit who has access to weather moves. Lyra sets sun on Sync, but Ingo just has Sandstorm the move. And it’s kind of a big deal, because supportive effects in addition to weather is a fantastic combo that I’m pretty sure the other options would kill for. At the very least it would be nice for Hail, and no, Palentine’s Bea does not cut it.

Ingo offers some great buffing tools. His trainer move gives +2 crit to the entire team, and +1 attack for good measure. It also gives Free Moves Next under Sandstorm, which is nice but not essential. He has Potion, and he has Mud Slap. By base kit, he’s kinda just okay, right? Then the passives. +2 to both offenses for the entire team the first time he uses Sandstorm. +1 speed every time he attacks under Sandstorm. +30% to both defenses under Sandstorm. Suddenly he is a very bulky boy, with Potion, who also has enough supportive effects to get +4 attack, +2 special attack, +3 crit, and eventually +6 speed for the entire team. That is not bad at all. And the grid just keeps going. Obviously you get the good MPR effects, but he also gets Adrenaline for fast-paced EX shenanigans in Champion Stadium, Endurance to survive a potentially lethal hit, and my personal favorite, Soothing Sand and Gritty Guardian to really make that Mud Slam sting. Like, a one-gauge spam that lowers foe’s accuracy, boosts team’s speed, restores his HP, and can boost both defenses. That’s what you’ve got here.

The main detriment to him is “under sandstorm,” and the generally slow buildup. Yes, he can get you to that maximum, but it’s slower acting than you’d likely want to see. Six attacks for maximum speed is notably slow. Add to it that he can’t really cap out an offensive stat for an ally, with special attack being only +2, and you can start to see where some of the issues may occur. But then the bigger issue: all of this is conditional on Sandstorm. While generally not a huge deal since he has it, this does leave certain fights in an awkward position. Gauntlet tends to be very long-lasting, and he has to get really lucky with Sandstorm MPR to keep that train rolling. But man, it is rare to come across a unit who can do quite as much as Ingo can from so little.

Team 1: Ingo, Cynthia/Olivia, Jasmine If you, like me, still want base Cynthia to do stuff, this is the team to use. Ingo is the ideal partner to Ingo, providing quite literally every stat she could need. At this point, the secondary partner is free, so you can bring Jasmine along for quick-acting defense buffs, defense against stat debuffs and crit for the team, and even have Jasmine tank point as a better defensive option with Recuperation on sync. Ingo and Cynthia don’t need to take sync, so may as well let Jasmine do immortal things.

Oh, and it works for Olivia too I guess. If you want to kill Moltres with him. That’s valid.

Team 2: Ingo, Emmet, Kukui Speaking of killing Moltres: go figure, train bros work really well together. Ingo provides a lot of direct benefits to Emmet, who hits like a truck. Kukui is here because Leer. Debuffing the foe’s defense for Emmet to just spam Rock Slide in CS or Stone Edge in Gauntlet is...really going to do numbers. Kukui can also flinch on Accelerock, which is just funny to me.

Team 3: Ingo, Bruno, Bugsy&Scyther Ingo can actually substitute in for a lot of teams that involve Hop, Hilbert, or Sonia, because he provides exactly the same required buffs: attack, crit, and speed. As a result, he’s able to partner with the units who tend to need those benefits. Naturally, he’s much better with units who don’t immediately need the speed. Bruno, for example, just needs attack and crit. But an option like Hilda has a bit of trouble because he’s slower to buff speed, especially if he takes time to buff crit as well.

Final Thoughts My thing with Ingo is that yes, he’s absolutely a fantastic support with some amazing tools. Yes, he’s one of the best Sandstorm users in the game. Yes, the idea of a weather user that’s also support and can buff allies effectively is very, very good.

But. I tend to not value units who are hyper-locked into one specific role as much. Ingo’s great, to be sure, but he’s also great almost exclusively under Sandstorm. So it’s good he can set it, but he’s gotta keep re-applying that to keep his skills running, which takes turns away from his attacks, or healing, or his trainer move. Add to it that almost everything good about Ingo is locked to 3/5, and you have a unit whose utility can be fantastic, but functionally has gaps that I think hold him back from top tier performance. I wouldn’t recommend underestimating his potential, but it’s good to be aware of what a unit needs to meet it, you know?

#pokemon masters #ingo #unit teambuilding

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feferipeixes · 3 years

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Still Alive

After Dipper learns that this whole "being a demon" thing means he's going to live forever, he and Mabel talk about the future, and what he's going to do when everyone he knows dies. It's not until much later that he starts to realize that they'll never truly die -- just like he'll never truly get sick of ice cream.

Thanks to @toothpastecanyon for beta reading!

(See the most updated version on AO3!)

===

“If you could choose one project to do and be guaranteed that you’d finish it eventually, no matter how long it took, what would you do?”

“Hmm....” Mabel replied, itching her scalp with a plastic hand clapping toy. “Oh! I’d get my hands on the Ultimate Magical Shimmering Rainbow-splosion Fluffykins doll! There’s only five hundred in existence -- they’re super duper rare!”

“No no no,” Dipper countered. “That’s too easy, and too short. All you’d need to do is set up some eBay alerts, bribe a few people, maybe sneak into the FluffCorp factory building. Not even -- you could just snap your fingers -” (he snapped his fingers for effect, causing a puff of blue flame to momentarily appear) “and conjure it.”

“I can’t -” Mabel started, but Dipper kept talking over her.

“I’m talking about something really unprecedented. Something that would take a long time, something you wouldn’t ordinarily be able to do. Something that would change the world.”

“Oh, I get it now!” Mabel tossed the toy aside and flipped over, letting her head dangle off the end of her bed. “I’d call you a dork a million times.”

Her brother scowled at her and jumped out of his chair and into the air. “Hey!” he yelped over Mabel’s laughter. “I'̼͚̻͓͎̲m̡̖̰̘̣͎ ̖͇̕n̛̻ơ̰t̷̟͇̱ ̝̺̻a̳̦ ̪̟̮͖ḑor̞͓̭k̟̤̖!̛͍ And even if I was, that wouldn’t take you very long! At, uh, a rate of, let’s see, you could probably say ‘you’re a dork’ at least 30 times per minute, and if you didn’t ever sleep…”

Mabel watched the red tinge fade away from his features as he paced around in mid air, doing math in his head. “Yeah. You’re totally not a dork, Sir Maths-a-lot. You sure showed me.”

“- It wouldn’t even take you a month,” Dipper finished. “Besides, how would that change the world?”

“Hmm, well if I call you a dork enough times,” Mabel answered, “maybe my big scary demon brother would decide he doesn’t want to be a dork and instead he’d do something with his cool magic powers that ends up making the world a better place!”

“Mabel?”

“Yeah bro-bro?”

Dipper frowned at her. “Your face is turning purple.”

“Touche,” she replied, rubbing her chin very seriously. She slid the rest of the way off the bed and clutched her throbbing head. “Owww…”

“That's what you get for giving me dumb answers,” Dipper quipped, arms crossed.

“You mean for giving you fun answers,” Mabel corrected, and then winced at another sting of pain. “Why are you asking me these weird questions anyway?”

A panicked look flickered across Dipper's face, and his feet touched the ground. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

Mabel, still massaging her temples, pushed herself semi-upright to give her brother a look. “Come on. ‘What would you do if you had all the time in the world?’ ’What movie could you watch a million times and never get sick of it?’ ’Do you think Stancakes have a shelf life longer than 100 years?’ Something is clearly up.”

Dipper giggled awkwardly (was there any other way he could giggle?) and stared at the ceiling. “Nothing. It's nothing!”

“What, are you really not gonna tell me?” Mabel pushed. ”What if I tickle you?”

Her brother recoiled in horror. “You wouldn't.”

There was a tense silence as the two twins considered whose was the stronger will: the expert fighter with a plethora of torture tactics at hand, or the demon. Mabel narrowed her eyes. Dipper sharpened his claws. No words were exchanged. The room was perfectly still.

Mabel jolted forward half a foot and Dipper shrieked.

“Okay, you win, just don't tickle me!” he begged, throwing his hands up. “I'll tell you!”

“Good,” Mabel replied. “Things were about to get ugly. Spill it, bro-bro.”

Dipper sighed. He dusted himself off -- a habit he'd gotten into lately even though he was pretty sure nothing he could do would make his orange shirt and vest look any less weird with his new body.

“Remember… Remember the thing I told you the other day, when I had that infodump and learned more about my powers?”

“Oh yeah,” she said. “You found out that your omniscience tells you whenever anyone farts.”

“No!” he squeaked. “Although, you are right, it does do that and it's annoying, especially because now I can smell it from like a mile away.”

He wrinkled his nose, staring off into space for a minute before shaking his head. “But that's not what I mean. I'm talking about… how I'm never going to die.”

It had been about a week since Mabel had walked into the living room to find Dipper writhing and sobbing on the floor. She remembered the way he’d looked right through her, how he hadn’t seemed to even notice her presence when she sat him upright, how he kept muttering “still alive, still alive” over and over again, and it hadn’t made any sense to her then, but when he finally snapped out of it and was able to vocalize what he’d seen…

She shuddered at the memory of it.

“Since then,” Dipper continued, “I’ve been thinking about how I’m going to deal with it. And I had this idea that I could come up with things to do to fill the time.”

“What, so you’re going to plan out your whole life?” Mabel asked, incredulous. “Let me guess -- you’re making a checklist? Hah! Can you imagine?”

She giggled, and then he reached into his vest and pulled out oh sweet Moses.

“I’ve already got some good stuff on here,” Dipper said, ignoring or not noticing his sister’s flabbergasted expression. “I’m gonna learn how to make a sword by hand. I’m gonna watch all of Tiger Fist backwards to see if there are any hidden messages. And there’s this spa getaway weekend that the Multibear invited me on -- shoot, wait, he’s gonna be dead by then, umm…”

Mabel raised an eyebrow as her brother started scribbling on the checklist. “Dipper. This is obsessive even for you.”

“What would you know?” he shot back. “You’re not the one who’s immortal.”

“I know how to have this thing called ‘fun’,” she replied. “Maybe you’ve heard of it?”

He grumbled at her, eyes locked on his checklist. He couldn’t believe he forgot that the Multibear spa trip thing was a limited time offer. That kind of stuff was slipping his mind more and more these days, like the time Mabel asked him to play cards with her and he was so busy alphabetizing his Sibling Brothers books that he neglected to respond to her for three days.

Although, now that he thought about it, that might’ve been before he became a demon.

Something damp and cold hit Dipper in the face, and he spluttered in surprise. “What was that?” he shouted. One of his flailing hands happened to close on the object as it fell, and he held it up to the light.

“It’s a popsicle, doofus!” Mabel said. She’d fetched two from the minifridge in their room while he was distracted, and was busy licking away at her own, which was chocolate. “Remember those?”

He wrinkled his nose. “I don’t have ti-”

“I’ll throw another one at you,” Mabel interrupted.

“- I guess I could have some ice cream,” Dipper finished.

He floated over and sat on the floor next to his sister. He removed the paper from the popsicle and gave the object a sniff. The aroma of orange and vanilla caressed his sensitive nose, and he realized how long it’d been since he had any sugar. Without a second moment’s thought, he threw his head back, stretching both his neck and jaw further than they were supposed to go, and placed the entire popsicle -- stick and all -- into his gaping maw.

“See, what’d I tell you?” Mabel said, smirking at the satisfaction on her brother’s face. She reached up with her popsicle to scratch an itch on her nose, and then went right back to eating it. “I always know what to do with my time. I wonder what it’d be like if I lived forever…”

Dipper eyed the glob of chocolate ice cream on the bridge of her nose. “The world would probably be a much more chaotic place.”

“You mean a much BETTER place!” she declared. “Everyone would have fun and ice cream all the time!”

He grinned. “You’re right. It would be a much better place. Because my best friend would be there.” Mabel looked at him, a twinkle in her eye and ice cream all over her face, and his grin fell away. “I guess this is what you felt like when I said I was going to be Grunkle Ford’s apprentice, huh. I’m such a shitty bro-”

Mabel at once had her hands on his face, squishing his cheeks together so he’d stop talking. “Nuh-uh. Bro-bro you’re gonna stop hating on yourself Right. Now.” She was still smiling, but her tone had twisted into something harsh. “Okay, sure, I’m gonna die someday and then you’re gonna have to figure out what to do on your own. But I’m not ready to think about that and neither are you! We’re hecking 13 years old! We should act like it, while we’ve still got the chance. Please don’t make me think about dying yet.”

Dipper winced, and she let go of him. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“S’okay.” She patted him on the back, harder than he’d been expecting, and he was so surprised that he coughed up the popsicle stick he’d eaten earlier.

For a minute, neither of them said a word. Dipper lifted a hand to his face, where he felt something sticky.

“You got chocolate on my face.”

“Yeah. On your vest, too.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “What are you going to do about it?”

He looked at his hands, still small and smooth like a child. With a thought, he bathed both hands in a blue flame, searing away the chocolate and leaving them clean, just the way he liked them. Then he cleared his throat.

“I’m gonna chase you around the house,�� he stated matter-of-factly.

Smiling ear-to-ear, Mabel jumped up and ran to the wall. “You’re nuts if you think you can catch me, even with demon powers!” Cackling, she threw the door open, which bathed her in a blinding white light.

Dipper thought about his infodump from the other day, thought about the part he hadn’t told Mabel, the tiny glimpse he’d gotten of his sister when she’d been old, pale, and still -- too horribly, horribly still. It was just a glimpse, but it haunted him -- the thought that one day there wouldn’t be a single trace left of Mabel Pines anywhere in the world. She was right -- as always -- that he was obsessing, that he was letting a thought hurt him when it didn’t have to.

He wasn’t ready to think about growing up yet, either. No matter how strong the pull to obsess was, he had to find a way to fight it.

“You can’t get away from me!” Dipper roared, and flew after his sister into the future.

---

"Wahoo! That was a great idea -- getting ice cream -- Dipper! I feel so much better! You always know how to cheer me up."

Dipper, clad in his usual human disguise, collapsed onto the bench with a grunt. "I dunno, this stuff tastes off. You’d think with all the technological advancements since the Transcendence that they’d have found a way to perfect ice cream."

His friend Arin, who was somehow managing to carry five popsicles in two hands, nodded with a serious look on her face. "Yeah. Oh sure a lot of old timey diseases were eradicated and we've got flying cars and stuff. But not one of these ice pops actually tastes like orange!"

She stared at him for a beat longer, then finally broke into snickers. One of the popsicles fell out of her hand, and a stubby arm immediately shot out from under the bench to catch it.

His face twisting in confusion, Dipper bent over to look under the bench. There were two gnomes right beneath him -- one of them hissed when they saw him, making him jump and making Arin laugh even harder.

"Ha-ha, okay," Dipper said, hand on his chest like his heart was racing. Despite this, he couldn't keep a small smile from creeping onto his face.

So much had changed in the last five hundred years, and yet so much else had stayed the same. Wars were fought, societies had formed and collapsed, but people were still people, and Dipper was still Dipper. Even though he’d had more than a few incidents where his demonic nature overcame his humanity, he always seemed to land back on his feet again eventually. Sometimes all it took was a friend.

Right now, his friend was a girl named Arin who he’d saved when someone else had tried to sacrifice her to him. He remembered how grateful she’d been, how she gave him a hug despite him being a void black monster splattered with blood, and how she then spent 20 minutes chatting with him about dragons even though she’d just had a very traumatic experience. She seemed, in other words, cool. So he later presented himself to her as fellow undergraduate student Dipper, without revealing that it was him who’d saved her that night, and they’d been good friends ever since.

Arin sat next to him and started taking bites out of her ice pops. "Yknow, the Transcendence-era wasn't that great," she said, although with her mouth busy it sounded like she was drowning.

Dipper's brow creased. "What do you mean?"

She gulped down the hunk of ice in her mouth. "No offense -- I know you're totally obsessed with Transcendence history stuff -- but that was soooo long ago. There's no one left who was alive back then, except like vampires I guess. But vampires don't eat ice cream so it doesn't matter."

Dipper bit back the urge to say "I know a vampire who loves ice cream as long as there's blood in it". What came out instead was "So?"

"So!" Arin shoved an entire popsicle into her mouth, and then had to take a minute to cough up the stick. "S-so," she continued amid gasps, "no one knows for sure what ice cream tasted like in the year 2012. And that includes you, Mr. Argues-With-The-Teacher! For all we know, old timey ice cream tasted like sawdust!"

Dipper considered his chocolate popsicle, which he's barely looked at since the first taste. "I guess you're right." He gave it another wary lick.

It didn't taste like chocolate the way he remembered it, but it was close enough.

"Do you ever think," he asked, unable to meet his friend's eyes, "about all the stuff that used to exist but doesn't anymore? All the ideas and food and... people?"

Arin groaned. "Is that what this is about? My best friend of the past 2 years -- secretly one of those 'I was born in the wrong century' people?"

"No!" he shot back, before taking another lick of the popsicle. "I just think it's sad that stuff goes away and no one's there to remember it."

"Well, maybe no one remembers that stuff, but that doesn't mean it's forgotten."

Dipper looked up. "Huh?"

Arin scarfed down her remaining two popsicles, which had begun melting onto her hand. "People die and ideas change and the world moves on. It happens constantly! But those people influenced their friends and their family and their coworkers. Who in turn influenced other people. Those people might be dead, but they live forever in the words and actions of everyone who came after."

Dipper just stared at her, jaw dropped. "Where did that come from?" he managed to get out. "Five seconds ago you were gagging on frozen sugar! You're not allowed to be this insightful!"

"Sugar rushes always make me super thoughtful," Arin said, patting him on the back. "It's 'cause I'm a genius. I'm probably gonna crash hard later though. Also by the way your ice cream is totally melting."

"Ah, shoot." Dipper hurriedly tried to catch the melting ice cream with his tongue, and Arin giggled again.

"The point is," she said, "if you've always got your head stuck in a history textbook, you're gonna miss out on the present. If you're always thinking about the dead guy who invented ice cream, you won't be around to eat any with me."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," he said. He felt an itch on his nose, so he wiggled it. "Thanks, Arin. I feel better- why are you looking at me like that?"

Arin was indeed staring at him with a perplexed look on her face as if she was not the one who'd just swallowed a metric ton of ice cream. "Why do you do that?"

Dipper frowned. "Do what? AGH-"

He yelped as Arin whipped out her phone and snapped a photo of him, blinding him with the flash even though it was a bright, sunny day out. "What was that for?"

She didn't say anything, simply handed him her phone. It certainly was not the best photo ever taken of him. It was blurry, his hair was a mess, and his mouth was contorted in shock.

On the bridge of his nose was a dollop of chocolate ice cream.

"You do it every time we get ice cream," Arin said, taking her phone back. "I mean, you call me weird, but I'm not the one always itching my nose with an ice pop."

"Oh," Dipper said. He paused and looked at his fingers, which were all chocolate-y too now. "I didn't even notice I was doing it."

"Suuure, weirdo," Arin chuckled. She stood up, wobbling a bit as she did so, and steadied herself on the back of the bench. "Listen dude, this was fun but I think the sugar's starting to hit me. I'm gonna head back to the dorm before I collapse. Wanna hang out later?"

"Definitely!" Dipper replied. "You should get some rest! Try not to give psychological counseling to anyone on the way -- you're gonna burn out your brain!"

He waved at his friend as she staggered away, and watched her until she turned a corner around a building. Then he sighed, and wiped his nose with his finger.

"Hey Mabel," he whispered, looking at the chocolate he'd collected. "It’s me, Dipper.”

A passing jogger sent a pointed look at the young man who was talking to his finger, but Dipper ignored them.

“I seem to remember you saying something to me about living forever. You said that one day you’d be gone, and I’d have to find a way to carry on alone.” He thought about Arin’s words, and felt something swell in his chest. “But I guess you’re still alive after all.”

He sniffed, and looked up at the sun as it started to bathe the sky in the pinks and purples of evening. He saw people in flying cars, people rushing through pneumatic tubes, people high fiving on jetpack because it was a wonderful day to be out. And he thought about what Arin said; thought about all of the sicknesses he'd seen friends and family afflicted by that no one ever had to suffer from again. He thought about all the preters he saw walking freely and happily on the campus, without worrying that they'd be attacked.

"And you were right," he said. "The world is a better place."

Dipper licked the remaining chocolate off his fingers, and got up. As he headed back toward his dorm room, he wondered what other legacies his loved ones had left in him.

(AO3 link)

#gravity falls #transcendence au #dipper pines #alcor the dreambender #mabel pines #fic #my stuff #long post

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alaynaantics · 3 years

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A Feminine Touch-- Part 1

(( Yeah stuff about the cartoon Regular Show will now haunt my page until I feel like it. I’m binge watching this again on Hulu soooo yep yep yep. So without further ado I present to you a Regular Show Fanfiction Featuring Y/N and her friend Dakota.

Regular show is a cartoon network original not my own work obvi.

Enjoy ))

A Feminine Touch

Part 1

“Chick’s ain’t nothing bro!” Muscle Man started “I totally would’ve won that free t-shirt if that chick with the pigtails shut her mouth.”

Muscle Man continued to unfold into great detail of the event that had recently occurred. Earlier that evening himself and High Five Ghost participated in an eating challenge at Cheezers and were a hairs length away from winning. However, before Muscle Man could finish his last couple wings, his female competitor caught him using an illegal eating technique which caused him to be immediately disqualified.

The event left a sour taste in his mouth for the remainder of the day which led him to express his anger to Mordecai and Rigby who had also experienced a similar scenario themselves.

“Ugh! I know right! It feels like girls have it out for us today.” Rigby exclaimed, he leaned back on seat and took a firm swig of the soda he swiped from the snack bar.

“Hm, Hm, Totally dude. Earlier today me and Rigby saw this girl drop her purse on the sidewalk and we tried to help her but then she freaked out saying we tried to harass her or something. Almost got us arrested!” Mordecai spoke with a high level of irritation alongside Rigby who nodded in agreement.

“Sounds like she should stop taking birth control and start taking some chill pills! WOOOOOOOOAH!” Mordecai and Rigby call out in union, leaving Muscle Man and High Fives in a hysterical fit of laughter.

“But seriously guys we should get back to work before Benson finds us slacking off.” Mordecai said as he stood to return to his assigned task as the others followed in his footsteps. Not one man took notice of the figure that hid near the snack bar, every word spoken was heard by keen ears not about to be forgotten any time soon.

~~~

“Okay, Everyone listen up there are a few important announcements I have for today so I need everyone to pay close attention, I'm looking at you Rigby.” Benson voiced at the brunette raccoon which caused him to roll his eyes in annoyance.

“Now first order of businesses we have a CEO visiting the park today for a special proposal!” With new information everyone voiced their excitement between one another but before another word could be spoken a woman appeared from out of thin air. This caused everyone to halt with their chatter and focus on the strange individual before them.

“Ah! Diane, welcome my name is Benson and I'm the Park manager and these are my employee’s Skips, Pops-” unfortunately, Benson never finished naming the rest of his crew once the hand of Diane, the CEO, placed itself right in front of his face.

“I don't need names of your boyish workers who reek of sweat and testosterone.” She spoke with a heavy Russian accent. For obvious reasons this caused the guys to jeer at Diane with anger.

“GAH you girls are all the same! Always complaining and hating on guys when in all actuality it's your fault you're so uptight in the first place! You-you bitch!” Rigby blurted out to Diane who stood unfazed before him.

“Yeah, I get that you’re this big fancy CEO but that doesn't give you the right to pick on us because we're guys!” Mordecai joined Rigby against Diane alongside Muscle Man who joined in due to Rigby’s outburst.

“Yeah, you're just stuck up because no man would wanna hit that! Bahaha am I right Fives?” Questioned Muscleman who leaned over to his ghostly best friend for a high five. What should have been a celebratory high five in his eyes turned out to be the breaking point for Diane.

“Wow” she muttered her heavy accent now non existent “looks like I am in the right to discipline the lot of you.”

Diane shook her head in disappointment before she turned her head to the sky and released a powerful shriek that shook the earth to its core. The sound of the waves created a blast power so great it caused all fragile objects within a ninety mile radius to shatter into dust.

Luckily for Benson Skips protected his head from the soundwave which delayed the damage that would have caused his immediate demise.

“Run!” Shouted Skips but his words were left with no prevail due to massive tree roots that sprouted from the earth that continued to wrap themselves around their ankles in a viper clasp. Diane's eyes shined an envious green before the glow of her hues caused momentary blindness to the park employee’s. Their vision was temporarily impaired even when they cower beneath her gaze they could not escape the wrath of an angry woman. Suddenly, the tremors and screaming all came to a halt that left everything in dead silence.

Skips was the first to uncover his eyes but once his gaze settled upon the being in front of his he cursed beneath his breath. Since Skips rarely cursed in dire situations the other park employees opened their eyes and were not met with Diane but with a giant doe.

“Workers of this so-called Park heed my words!” A voice roared from above.

“It is I, Mother Nature! the Creatress of this planet you house yourselves upon. For centuries I have done nothing but nurture and provide the very resources that give you the very breath you take. So care take why do you believe I am here man?” She questioned, her voice stern yet diligent such as a mother would speak to a mere child.

Benson was the first fool to speak his mind.

“...To make a deal with the park?”

This displeased Mother Nature greatly, so much in fact that she struck lightning near Benson in a slight fit of rage for his incompetence. This caused Benson to shriek and therefore leap into Skips’s arms who skillfully caught him.

“No you blubbering fool! I stand before you today because of how you men view the actions of women! Throughout this disastrous day I have bore witness to everything shorter than a candle’s lick of compassion towards women. Only for heinous comments to follow soon after those encounters from these treacherous snakes you so call friends. Mordecai, Rigby, Muscle Man, and High-five Ghost since you’re so unappreciative of the gifts my kin bestow upon you I shall reap this land from this earth! And take you along with it!”

As she finished her words Mother Nature cast her arms amongst the park grounds leaching the essence and beauty of the land within her grasp. A bitter breeze ripped through the sky that ripped away any vegetation the park acquired through the years. Benson looked around in horror as he witnessed his park being destroyed for the up tenth time within the past few days. His gumballs turn a fierce shade of red as he turned to his two workers who latched onto the house for stability.

“MORDECAI AND RIGBY FIX THIS MESS OR YOUR FIRED!!” Benson screamed across the house lot where he too dangled from the neighboring park light pole.

“Yeah Benson like we totally know how to fix this!” Rigby yelled from afar using sarcasm directed entirely at Benson.

“Yeah Man even if we knew how to fix this I don't know if she’ll listen to us!” Mordecai chimed in next to his best friend a look of confusion stapled upon his features. Benson could feel the strength in his grip depleting by the second and by the looks of his surroundings if they don't act accordingly they won't have anything to hold onto much longer. So, he mustered up whatever professionalism he had left to make an offer in an attempt to save his workers.

“Skips! Skips! I’m begging you please find a way to get us out of this, please Skips help us!” Benson pleaded to his immortal companion, hot tears threatening to overflow and stream down his face. Skips sighed in defeat knowing that it was inevitable that he himself would have to fix everything this time. The white haired man took a deep breath and bet everything on his next words.

“How about we cut a deal?!” Skips yelled aloud and luckily his booming howl reached the Goddesses fluffy ears. Mother Nature hummed with interest allowing the discord to cease momentarily to hear the rest of Skips offer.

“Very well Sir Skips I will adhere to your offer and induct a challenge of my choosing. Understood?”

Skips nodded then continued to hear out her offer.

“I will give yourself and your companions precisely one hour to hire two female workers to be a permanent part of your team. These two individuals will be of my choosing, however, it will be up to you seven to decipher who these chosen ones are within a group of many others. If you hire the correct girls I will spare you and the park but choose wrong and I will drain the essence of your life back into the earth's crust. Do we have a deal?” Her words were sweet but laced with venomous intent as her outstretched hand dangled in anticipation.

This challenge was going to be difficult. They knew this, they all know that the chance of them finding the correct pair is like finding a needle in a haystack. Nevertheless, they all knew what was at stake and with an unspoken unison they all shared a glance with one another in a silent agreement to accept her challenge.

They each stood and placed their hand atop the tip of Mother Nature's massive finger, giving a firm squeeze as a sign of agreement.

“Deal.”

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roguestarsailor · 4 years

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You know what since we’re still in quarantine and i have nothing else better to do, i need to obsess over ACOTAR. I don't like a court of frost and starlight. For the longest time I couldn't figure out why I didn't like it. I aggressively read the book in maybe a day and I closed it feeling frustrated and annoyed. My version had A Court of Silver Flames preview so that definitely contributed to my annoyance greatly.

It's because it felt too perfect. Everything that had happened -- after the entire war was fought and won, they just go back to their normal lives? Yes there were hiccups and yes there were still aspects that made every IC character feel like their problems aren’t solved yet...but it didnt feel right. yes i enjoyed the snowball fight between the bat boys, feyre + rhys sexy time, and those little comfort moments too, the slice of life type things and seeing feyre accomplishing her goals and how hopeful the future seems BUT its too fast. the good parts of the book did not offset the bad parts of it.

Feyre literally accomplished pretty much every single goal she made back in ACOMAF just like that?? within a span of what a few months? a year?? She really came back from an entire war -- probably the first war of many since she's immortal and just like that, after her 21st birthday: she gets a whole entire estate, wants to start poppin babies, opens her art studio and starts teaching kids and then acting like she can rule an entire court?? the timeline is sooo short esp since its been brought up over and over again how everyone is literally 500 years old and have a super “messy” history and their changes seems to come super dupe slowly. but feyre, who has only lived 0.000000002% of her fae life, is out here thriving just fine???

the war devastated thousands of illyrian soldiers where its changing the politics of the illyrains and the faes, all of whom feyre has responsibilities over too as high lady. the mortal queens are still at large who left the humans on prythian to die which is why feyre was willing to go to war in the first place! what about the rest of hybern and their land and residents?? they wanted to enslave humans for social and economical reasons! then what about integrating humans w deep hatred and fear with deeply prejudice fae??? there’s also spring and summer court who are literally in ruins. thats literally so much. so idk how feyre is just chillin???? she gonna let rhys do all the hard work???

like feyre sit down. u should not be having a baby. esp since it took u literally a 700 pages to heal from those 3 months UTM. ur telling me shes gonna whole heartedly bring in a newborn in a war devastated world, with civil unrest (illyrains, other courts), with the messiness of human and fae integration, with trauma u and rhys will have to continue to overcome esp after THIS war??? even helping ur sisters w their traumas??

this is a personal opinion on this subject (and maybe my thoughts will change on this later on; opened to other thoughts) but when i read the part about how that weaver/seamstress artist who made that dark quilt that feyre loved talked about how her mate of 300 years didn’t come back from the war and her biggest regret was that she didnt have a kid to remember him by i just thought ur kid isn’t some sort of memorabilia. don’t have a kid to keep the memory of ur mate alive; have a kid cuz u want a kid purely for the sake of having a kid. ur memories and photos and shit will keep their memory alive but its not having a kid. some primitive need to keep the genes alive maybe?? but the way it was phrased and then in turn how feyre was like oh i need a baby pronto cuz rhys might die in the next war and regret not having a kid with him didn’t sit right with me. also the other couple were together for +300 years and have a rich life together, while shes been with rhys for literally two years THATS NOTHING IN FAE YEARS. thats still the honeymoon phase and also ur problems arent even close to being over!!!

everyone was shitty to nesta. in ACOMAF, we saw how much the IC went through and still did all they could to help feyre. what made them not think nesta deserve the same welcome? nesta is mean as a defense but did no one try to figure out what would help (amren got close but shes so under developed)??? feyre knows nesta feels too much and yet she continued to be shitty. continued to flaunt her wealth, her status, her familiarity/borderline know-it-all attitude about fae/night court, her ~estate~. forcing nest to the solstice party when nesta was literally like i dont belong, im looking at everyone through a window type of thing; the fire cracking triggering her, etc. what kind of power play was that when she made nesta come to her estate, where nesta could SEE how ~homey~ and how suscessful feyre is and fully see all the lovely paintings of everyone feyre loves that explicitly exclude her to tell her to fuck off to a war camp?? bro???? cas was a dick too and elaine was rude. i think a lot of his actions were meant to make her angry since anger keeps u fighting (as was the method of rhys for feyre in ACOMAF) but what he said was stupidly shitty and i demand that he apologize properly. elaine could have done more to help her sister but whatever. mor was definitely an ass too (and im upset for how little her character growth is).

Lucein. that man can’t catch a break tbh. im happy that hes w the band of exiles cuz he is whole heartedly accepted there. feyre was definitely an asshole to him even tho he helped as much as he could throughout the books. he tries so hard w elaine as well and it did hit my heart a bit when she was like gloves to work in my garden?? no ?? i use my bare hands see oNly aZiReL sEeS mE fOr WhO i Am. and at the same feyre is like flaunting her mate status to lucein which is mean as shit. its like this man can’t find love in prythain. then tamlin sending him his box of his things??? thats for sure brutral. tam was literally his partner through it all; savior of sorts even. no love from IC, no love from elaine, no love from feyre, no love from tamlin, no love from autumn court rejected everywhere! also HIS TRUE FATHER?? HEllo???

then on tamlin. i pity the guy! was i suppose to feel that way??? it felt like he is allowed to get a redemption arc and maybe i’ll even root for a redemption arc??? i was absolutely excited for freysand in ACOMAF but after ACOFAS, im like tamlin is....not completely bad??? his relationship w feyre was bad and the controlling parts were very much a no-no. i dont truly understand the dynamics of an abusive relationship but i can understand that it can be insidious and its the little things that hurt the victim. and i felt feyre through ACOMAF and rooted for her to escape her abuser! but then it felt like i dont think he was doing any of those things out of malice. ill say tamlin is a bad leader and doesn’t know how to run a court outside of what he sees his father do. his understanding on everything is based on the traditions of the past which i think fueled most of the things he did i.e. not telling feyre she was in danger since maybe his mom didn’t do those war planning things. ACOTAR showed how he truly cared/loved and took good care of feyre and her family. he even talked about how he didn’t believe in the enslavement of humans! i think that tam wanted to preserve what he thought was the good (aka feyre + her love of painting) and get back a sense of control that he and his entire court lost while chained to amarantha. but at the same time, i think he truly thought feyre wasn’t safe. he knows rhys can crush minds and knows feyre can’t read/write so when he got that letter telling him shes safe of course hes gonna flip shit and made a deal w the devil (although those temper outbursts were DEFINITIVELY not ok!!!). he also didn’t listen and has sense of he knows best when feyre was not the type of person. but feyre destroyed his entire court. he lost all his sentries who literally went out to die for him during amarantha’s reign. he lost lucien too; his trusted right hand man. his people were cursed for 50 years and then continued to suffer UTM and was in the process of rebuilding too! but just seeing spring court, WHO BORDERS THE HUMANS, be in ruins where his subjects left him, his people left him and hes all alone in the manson?? that was sooo sad. so im like why does what feyre did not feel satisfactory????? im mad that it didn’t feel right??? maybe there wasn’t a point where feyre talked to tamlin -- like really talked to him esp w her new found voice and power, etc. anyways, i dont hate tamlin and was like oh shit i think feyre fucked up a bit there.

rhys is a dick to nesta. which made me think, if feyre wasn’t his mate would he extend the same love and care to her??? i loved how he tried so hard to make sure feyre was ok. made sure she wasn’t breaking! all of it! but for nesta, he had the audacity to use his high lord voice and be an ass overall. even tho he can see how cas is fucken in love??? even just how he talks to cass feels off too.

i’ll even go as far as to say because of how terrible ACOFAS was, it created this intense divide within the fandom. i remember reading the first three books and was absolutely 1) rooting for freysand 2) curious about the sister relationship and how it will be mended 3) i definitely didn’t hate nesta nor did i hate elaine either -- but i was adament about them talking it out with feyre for those tough times 4) saw a more realistic and charming healing arc 5) was rooting for feyre to be a stronger voice and grow into herself 6) love the dynamic of the inner circle + feyre

but after ACOFAS, I have this intense need to defend nesta and was super mad at how she was treated after the war and in turn a deep dislike for elaine for both her lack of agency, lack of grit that made all the other characters interesting, and lack of care for her sisters (who showed how much they would risk for her). i dont hate rhys but i was extremely not happy with him and his attitude and behavior. feyre became more arrogant and was acting like how asshole rhysand would act. like her life is perfect now and i was not rooting for her anymore. freysand didn’t feel like they have complimenting qualities that made them interesting in the first place but rather they are merging to become the same person but in a bad way. that mind reading thing was cute in the beginning but it became insufferable since all thoughts were shared so seamlessly it made reading feel weird.

anyways those are my thoughts on ACOFAS. it was a 1/5 stars for me and im mad those events transpired. reading the other books made me excited to know what was gonna happen and i was truly ready to accept the characters as flawed and nuanced as they are. im not mad about character not liking each other but i am mad that everything felt off. ACOFAS just felt regressive in some parts and forced in other parts. i know not everything ends in a nice tied up bow but this book single handily ruined what i thought about these characters in the worse way possible. this book wasn’t suppose to wrap up all the problems that exists in the other books but it didn’t feel hopeful like i thought it would. it didn’t feel wrapped up and didn’t feel like i should be excited about the next books. theres so many missing pieces i feel that i think need explaining and at the same time, i think it introduced too many problems at once which made it feel like its jumping around everywhere. although im still excited for ACOSF because i love nesta, and nesta deserves so much better and i want to have hope that this bad ending will either make sense later on or it was just a blimp.

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tossawary · 4 years

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Chapter 19: “Weddings and Funerals” of “pride is not the word I’m looking for” random favorite lines with commentary because I’m doing a re-read. Not a full list or full commentary.

When Shang Qinghua told Mobei-Jun that he didn’t need Shen Qingqiu assassinated, it wasn’t because he thought everything would somehow work out if he just sat back and didn’t do anything. It definitely wasn’t because he was planning a so-called “perfect murder” and didn’t want the demon lord messing up his plans. The Problem of Shen Qingqiu has always been a lot more complicated than “just get rid of the guy potentially making my nephew’s life a living hell”. That’s why it’s a real problem!

AN: Shang Qinghua’s thought process: “Can this problem be solved by:

A) Waiting for the problem to go away?

B) Murder?

C) None of the above?

If the answer is C...

Fuck, it’s a real problem.”

Shang Qinghua thinks that might actually be possible, though he’d have to do some research and smack his head until his Author God memories hopped into line. He thinks that the youth-restoration procedure would probably do the job, but he also thinks that Shen Qingqiu would probably rather be dead than be physically sixteen again or something (super fucking understandable) and have to start the cultivation process over from scratch (ah, that would be so annoying and embarrassing).

AN: Given that I actually invented a de-aging potion for this fic (if one that’s difficult to put together), the AU of “Original Shen Qingqiu is physically 16 again” has been rattling around inside my head ever since I wrote these lines. Shen Qingqiu was like, “Wait, let me picture how unbearably overprotective Yue Qingyuan would be... hmm... no, I’ll just stay like this.”

Luo Jiahui seems a little anxious about the empty spaces at the table, but she fills the space as best she can by chattering about assorted restaurant business. At least until she abruptly takes a deep breath and says, “Hua-Ge, I have something to tell you.”

Shang Qinghua freezes in the middle of taking a drink. His unhelpful brain immediately races to guess the worst possible conversational subjects. His sister-in-law has somehow figured out that he’s a transmigrator?! His sister-in-law has decided that her son is not going to the Demon Realm under any circumstances?! His sister-in-law knows Binghe better than he does and has realized that the young protagonist is being abused after all?! Oh, fuck, what is it?

“I’m getting married!” Luo Jiahui announces, breathlessly.

“Oh,” Shang Qinghua says, heart rate going at the speed of sound. “Wait, what?”

AN: This chapter is why I didn’t go into the details of LJH/LQG in the last chapter, immediately post-timeskip. I wanted to blindside everyone with an “Oh, it’s THAT serious?!” moment. The last chapter established that “SQH is handling things”, then this chapter establishes that, as the plot goes on, “SQH is only barely handling things”. Which helps prep the following breakdown with the System World Update in chapters 20-22.

“You didn’t have any time for yourself,” Shang Qinghua agrees, following this conversation of very obvious things that he already knew so far. He didn’t have any time for himself back then either, between organizing a conference and finding a cure on top of the usual day-in-day-out of the sect. “You did a really good job looking after them all by yourself!”

“They don’t always agree with that,” Luo Jiahui says, smiling but self-deprecating.

“Aha, well, they’re young.”

The disagreements of what was best for the children is why Shang Qinghua really had to get Fanli (who didn’t see herself as a child) out of the house by any means necessary. He was at a bit of a loss at how else to help. She was never part of Proud Immortal Demon Way! Not even as a fragment of backstory mentioned in passing! Shang Qinghua struggles to compensate for these extra people who were never characters sometimes.

“Qingge was very understanding,” Luo Jiahui says. “But… well… then Fanli was gone and I had the restaurant keeping me busy, but that was all my own choice… and what good was waiting really doing us? It didn’t have to be everything or nothing. So… we talked… about what we wanted and what- what we were afraid of… and we decided to go forward slowly.”

AN: I said in the Author’s Notes on AO3 that I was going to use Jiage to shame Moshang and Qijiu, and I meant it. TALK TO EACH OTHER!!! Shang Qinghua, you need to talk to Mobei-Jun about what you want! Shang Qinghua, you can’t keep putting things on hold because of the plot!

No offense to either his sister-in-law or his junior martial brother, but aren’t love stories supposed to be a little more… fiery?

“When I was younger, I thought that falling in love was supposed to be all excitement and passion and not being able to live without someone even for a second,” Luo Jiahui admits, a little wistfully. “I thought that it was supposed to be thinking about them all the time, not being able to stay away from each other, and needing to know what they’d been doing every second they were away. It was like becoming a completely different person. I thought that being in love was about one of us getting horribly jealous every time we even talked to someone else, doing things I didn’t really understand and changing myself just to keep him happy, and keeping secrets and sneaking around just to keep things from exploding. Because love is not being able to help yourself like that, right?”

Shang Qinghua can’t really manage to speak right now.

It’s like someone has cut his fucking throat.

Which is fine!

“But that ended really badly for me,” Luo Jiahui says, with a nervous huff at her own understatement. “It was very exciting, but looking back, being in that kind of love was also very frightening sometimes… and it was a little lonely too… being in love with someone I couldn’t really talk to or trust.”

AN: This is more specifically vagueing SVSSS Bingqiu than Moshang, but it’s also shaming Moshang too. Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky wrote some extremely messed-up romances and he would have said, “Yes! It’s all super messed-up! That’s kind of the point!” But it also means that the man can’t really conceptualize (at least at first) or articulate the kind of relationship he would actually be happy to have with Mobei-Jun, especially when his relationship with Mobei-Jun had such violent beginnings

The first person he tells himself is, weirdly enough, Qi Qingqi. Liu Qingge apparently already told both Liu Mingyan and Luo Fanli before he left, so Shang Qinghua heads over to see how the girls are handling it. (Also, he wants to pump Liu Mingyan for information on her mother’s opinions on weddings and marriage, in a really pathetic attempt to ready himself for the rumble.) He makes her agree to keep the information to herself before telling and she does, like a bro!

And then he tells and she laughs in his fucking face! Eventually, she realizes that he’s looking for sympathy, he’s not just here to let her enjoy his suffering, as a form of payment after everything he and Liu Qingge have inflicted on her. Then she laughs at him again, even louder.

Sure, he’d laugh too if he was in her shoes! But not to her face! Rude!

AN: Qi Qingqi also pointed while laughing, I think. It’s funny because it’s not her dealing with Liu Family shit this time.

Shang Qinghua expected, this time last year, to be laser-focused on the plot! His attention was not going to stray even a little bit, he promised himself; he was going to be 110% dedicated to making sure that everyone he tripped into caring about made it through the least shitty version of Proud Immortal Demon Way possible. He was going to be a machine of a transmigrator! No distractions! All he wanted was for his family to make it through the quickest, least shitty bare bones of a plot! And he was going to achieve, damn it!

Instead, he finds himself planning his sister-in-law’s wedding and it eats up time he didn’t fucking know he had to give. Immortal Alliance Conference, eat your fucking heart out! Cang Qiong Mountain Sect? Did he work there? Nope, he’s never heard of the place! He’s the Peak Lord of wedding planning now!

AN: This is me telling myself I’m going to get my life 100% together and then getting into a new video game and baking cookies instead. Or ditching my housecleaning plans to hang out with friends at a moment’s notice.

At the wedding itself, Fanli tells her sister’s father-in-law that Binghe is also very into birds and Shang Qinghua’s nephew spends a good chunk of the rest of the celebrations (and his precious time away from Qing Jing Peak) held hostage by his own politeness, listening to his new grandfather earnestly tell him about the various migration habits of demonic birds.

Well! Better him than Shang Qinghua, honestly!

AN: Inspired by that time we went on vacation and one of my brothers got mistaken by one of our travelling companions for a budding serious birdwatcher instead of someone who just thinks they’re neat - and also likes to point at them and intentionally call them by the wrong name.

Also, LQG’s Dad in this fic and SY would probably get along super well.

LQG and his dad in this universe have gone out on month-long camping trips to in which they pretty much don’t talk the entire time. They stalk monsters through the wilderness and have a great time.

Shang Qinghua is too busy keeping an eye on Luo Fanli and being not talked to by Liu Mingyan, who is eighteen-ish years old now he thinks and still deeply embarrassed by the fact that he told her off for her real person fiction. (He doesn’t want to discourage her passion for writing! She’s pretty good for a kid! It’s pretty cute! Everyone needs their escapist hobbies! He just doesn’t want identifying information about his family being spread around freely, even if the characterizations of the couple are… uh… wildly reimagined, and he doesn't want to have to spend his very valuable time keeping a lookout for more illicit fiction.) It’s difficult to read her expression through the ever-present veil, but… yeah, she’s still pissed off at him.

Ugh, teenagers.

Binghe is not allowed to bring several hundred nieces-in-law into Shang Qinghua's life. Just... no. Fuck, no.

He doesn’t even get a date to commiserate about this with.

It’s a very small wedding, family only (Luo Jiahui’s shitty parents don’t count and her older brother was forced to decline the invitation), so that Luo Jiahui and Liu Qingge can keep their privacy. Madam Liu huffed about it - the battles in talking her down were both great and terrible - but her son stood his ground! Sure, people might whine someday about not being invited, but the great thing about Liu Qingge is that they can more or less just say, “Well, we couldn’t stop him from doing whatever he wanted!” And people just have to take that unless they want to claim they could take on the Bai Zhan Peak War God!

AN: Trying to imagine the AU in which SQH brought MBJ as his date to this wedding. SQH would’ve liked to be able to bring MBJ as a date, but alas, they are not dating and the groom would probably try to kill the man.

Shang Qinghua is not expecting, soon after returning from his sister-in-law’s happy and long-awaited wedding, to be solemnly informed that Shen Qingqiu’s health has only really deteriorated these past months. Wow, that’s a huge downer.

Also, he already knew that? He’s been getting Mu Qingfang all the right supplies to treat their shixiong. He didn’t actually abandon his duties to the sect for a family wedding. He knew that Shen Qingqiu had fallen sufficiently ill to need tending on Qian Cao Peak in the past month and he considered it, well, convenient timing in regards to Binghe’s permission to attend his mother’s wedding not being randomly revoked. Cold-hearted, maybe! But he had lots of other things to worry about at the time, like informing Mobei-Jun that his sister-in-law was getting married and so he’d be regrettably absent to attend the wedding.

Then he’s told that Shen Qingqiu is not expected to improve this time.

“Oh, shit, they really think he’s dying,” Shang Qinghua realizes.

This really wasn’t in Proud Immortal Demon Way.

AN: I seriously contemplated cutting this chapter in half because of this mood switch. Like, I went in intending on writing a serious mood switch, but in practice, wow. It felt like a lot more in practice.

“Our sect leader asks about the boy and his progress,” Shen Qingqiu rasps, his voice turning more and more accusing. “He’s so very concerned about the boy. We can’t have such a beloved child crying to his devoted family that he’s been mistreated or neglected, can we? How flattering these assumptions are. It makes a man wonder what exactly people think he’s going to do to the boy.”

Shang Qinghua might have an itemized list somewhere, honestly.

“Ah, I can’t speak for anyone else,” Shang Qinghua says finally. “But please don’t take it personally, Shen-Shixiong. I don’t really trust anyone. Anything can happen behind a locked door, you know?”

Some honest cynicism can go over well with the man.

Shen Qingqiu laughs bitterly now.

AN: It can be fun in media where Character A is like, “Ahhh, I hope no one discovers my secret!” And Character B is like, “So, about this extremely obvious thing that you’re doing...!”

Shen Qingqiu is as honest and open as he is throughout this scene because he honestly thinks that he’s dying. He’s determined to be blithe about it.

Shang Qinghua at least gets to see Mu Qingfang’s face journey as Shen Qingqiu accuses their sect leader of letting him think that he’d left him to die. As Shen Qingqiu yells about being treated like an unwanted ghost, as a potential blackmailer, as an embarrassing disappointment, as a petty troublemaker, as a spoiled child, as a problem to be solved, and as the last blemish on Yue Qingyuan’s reputation - anything but as someone worthy of being trusted with Yue Qingyuan’s problems and of being treated like an equal friend.

Yue Qingyuan tries to explain that he didn’t think Shen Qingqiu wanted to hear his excuses, and Shen Qingqiu shoots back that he would rather fucking die than beg the man he’d thought had forgotten about him to explain when exactly he became not worth rescuing as soon as possible.

Yue Qingyuan tries to explain that he didn’t want Shen Qingqiu’s pity or to force the man to be grateful that he’d tried.

Shen Qingqiu tells the man to go fuck himself. How could it not hurt for someone he loved to hurt him and then just… move past the hurt like the pain wasn’t who they were?

“All the world could revile me… reject me… leave me to die… and I would pay their hatred no heed! What do they truly know of what I am? Of who I am?” Shen Qingqiu demands. “But if Qi-Ge could throw me away… decide that I just wasn’t worth the trouble anymore now that he’d had a taste of a better life… then I really must be wretched beyond all things at the root! If he believed it, then… then it had to be true.”

AN: Because I just wrote a Qijiu confrontation over this exact thing, like, a few days before, I thought that I could get away with writing out this entire confrontation in full. I think it works better if the audience has to imagine some of it. And because SQH is the POV character, it felt right that he not be in the room and not be a full witness to this scene. He doesn’t get to see everything.

#tossawary svsss #pride is not the word #tossawary commentary

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neeterloveschenford · 3 years

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RNM 3x05

So another Alexless episode. Did that part of it suck? Very much so. I miss him. But that means we’ve got two out of the way already. I am glad that now we can focus on rebuilding the foundation for the epic love story of Malex. There was a lot of goodness to go over this week. There were also a few things that weren’t so great. But overall I’m still loving this season. So let’s dive right in.

Let’s get the bad over with first. I get what they were trying to accomplish with the racism story. It’s one the most important issues our country faces today. And with one of the main characters being a cop, police brutality has been in the back of most of our minds since the beginning. And with Max’s white savior complex, well I can see how we got to where we are with ep5. But as people far more eloquent than I have pointed out, it’s almost like a “very special” sitcom episode.

Their hearts were in the right place, but you can’t solve something this complex in an episode of tv. It reminded me of when Arrow did their gun control episode. Miraculously Mayor Queen and the city council came up with a solution to the city’s gun problem, but we never got to hear what that problem was. They just all patted themselves on the back for fixing it. It came off as extremely hollow. It was nice to see Maria, Rosa, the reporter, and one of the Lopez’s set up Jordan to find out the truth, but in the end did it solve anything? Is racism in Roswell suddenly going to go away? I think we all know the answer to that. Was it good that they tried to address something that is on the hearts and minds of so many viewers? In theory, yes. But this is just something that is next to impossible to do in a sci-fi fantasy show about aliens. I do think their hearts were in the right place though. So I will give them props for at least wanting to do something more socially relevant.

So now for the good stuff. My sweet baby Kyle lives!!! I mean, we knew that he would, but I was still smarting from last week. And him waking up on Max’s couch with an alien stuffy was hilarious. I love Kyles’s relationship with Max and Michael. They all want to still hate each other, but they are actually friends. It’s a fun dynamic.

Liz and Heath are starting to bore me a little. We need to find out he’s in Deep Sky already. Right now, he’s just pretty to look at. It’s a shame. Jeanine talked about him being a real threat to Echo. Right now Forlex was a bigger threat than Heath and Liz. If he’s not part of Deep Sky, then I’m not sure what the point of his character is.

Arturo and Rosa were fantastic together. I love their relationship. In fact I love all the Ortecho relationships. We need more Ortecho family moments. They are so loving and supportive of each other. But they still behave like family. I want to see more moments of Liz and Rosa arguing over silly things. I want to see Arturo encouraging his girls to do more with their lives. I just want to see them eat pancakes together. They make me so happy.

Kyle and Michael! Science bros are my favorites. I love that Michael wanted to make sure that Kyle was safe. He still wants to hate Kyle for everything that he did in high school to Alex, but he sees Kyle for the man he’s become. And the I agree with my man-sitter line made me snort out loud.

Isobel continues to be a badass. I love that she was able to reign in her emotions and figure out what Jones was hiding. She continues to show just how strong-willed she is. And I find the whole thing with Jones bringing up Noah pretty interesting. Makes me think Noah played some part in the dictator’s regime when they were on The Oasis. I’m hoping they delve into that at some point. I’d love to see Karan come back if only for some flashbacks to their home planet. Maybe he was even part of the resistance. Maybe he used to be a good guy, but the broken pod really did drive him insane. I think it would be fascinating either way.

Maria is starting to bother me again. I wanted to see a change in her. But she still seems to ride roughshod over everyone. I would be fine with that if that was a recognized part of her personality. Some people are just like that. If you own it and realize that sometimes you hurt people but try to do better the next time, then that would be one thing. But the narrative still seems to be that Maria can do no wrong. I’m not expecting there to be any comeuppance for her, especially about 2x06. But if say Rosa or Isobel were to check her every once in awhile, then it would go a long way to making her more likable. I mean Isobel is very similar, but few people are afraid to put her in her place. I don’t know. Maybe it’s something that will happen a little later down the line.

Pretty sure that there’s something more to racist deputy. Maybe it’s because the actor that plays him was the big bad in the last season of Agents of SHIELD, but I’m not buying that he’s just a one off character that’s going to disappear. I haven’t figured out a good theory about him yet, but he’s made me suspicious.

Pretty sure when Jones first did the whole hand print thing with Max in the premiere, he did something to him that would make him drain life force from whoever he gave a handprint to. If you think about it, somebody was going to need to be healed and Max would sacrifice himself to save them. And then Max would have Jones “fix” him because he wouldn’t want someone to die just to keep himself alive. So by doing so, Jones set up a series of events that would let him download himself into Max. I think that was Max’s entire reason for existence. I think Jones is the dictator and that the reason he’s “immortal” is because he’s been downloading his consciousness into clones for some time now. Max wouldn’t forget what Kyle’s name was. Also, the whole scene with Liz and “Max” was so obviously Jones. His body language and the tone of his voice was not Max. I think maybe Max is still in there. (He knew Maria and seemed concerned.) But I think he’s not alone.

I’m going to end this review with my sweet baby boy Michael. The way he has grown and changed over the last two episodes makes me so happy! This is what all of s2 should have been for him. But, alas, we’ve had to have him do all this soul-searching in a handful of episodes. But it has been so good. His admission to Rosa that they were wrong for putting her in the front seat of that car was perfect. Not only did he need to own up to what they did, but Rosa needed one of them to do so. Neither Max nor Isobel have apologized for making Arturo the target of the racists in town. I can’t wait to have more Michael and Rosa scenes. And I can’t wait for Alex to see the change in Michael. We are so close y’all. Alex and Michael are both so different than they were when we started this journey with them. Do they both still have things to deal with? Yes. But now they’ve both seen that they are capable of change. They know they can both become good for each other. When they come back together this time, they will both have the ability to deal with the trials of tribulations of life. They will be able to commit to making their relationship work. It’s going to be so glorious!!

Well that’s it for this week. Sorry I got this posted late. I’ve had some family things to deal with this week. It’s been a rough week. But I have next week to look forward to. I just know that we are now at the beginning of the epic love story we’ve all been waiting for. So until next time my loves!

#roswell new mexico #s3 spoilers #s3 speculation #it's only my opinion

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queenpersephonesgarden · 3 years

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together through the dark (dawn is still a long way off)

Dream SMP, Rated G, 3.4k, chapter 1 of ??

Summary: Fundy's family is messed up and painfully complicated as it is, with betrayal and heartbreak and death separating them on too many sides of too many wars to count. He should be grateful the attempt to revive his father failed, that Wilbur isn't here to make things worse.

But he isn't. And that pitiful heart might just be their undoing.

Or: Phil tried and failed twice to bring Wilbur back himself. Fundy succeeded without even wanting to try.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Accidental Resurrection, therapy arc let's go, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, it's gonna take a bit for Phil and Tommy to get involved in this ngl, if the CCs ever have a problem with this let me know and it'll be gone, bro do you ever start writing a fic only for canon to start stealing your ideas, Canon-typical swearing, Brief description of injury, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit are Not Biological Siblings, but that doesn't mean Found Family doesn't exist, They/Them Pronouns for Eret (Video Blogging RPF)

Can be read on AO3 (link will be in the notes)

The moon and the first of the stars had begun to peek over the horizon by the time they’d finally admitted defeat.

The mismatched crowd that had gathered for the spectacle of an attempted resurrection had begun the long trek down the Prime Path back to the Greater SMP, chatter finally respectfully subdued where before it had been badly contained manic chaos throughout the entire afternoon. Everyone seemed to have noticed the somber mood that had engulfed Philza, and had reined themselves in appropriately.

Fundy had lagged further and further behind, jittery with some unexplainable emotion.

It had failed.

The resurrection had been a waste of time all along, so-

He should be happy, right?

He was. He was glad Wilbur wasn’t coming back. He was glad to be spared from his father’s tumultuous presence for another day.

Hell, he was relieved.

… right?

But – But walking back, watching Ghostbur smile and murmur something comforting to the silly little sheep trailing beside him, seeing Philza’s melancholic smile, feeling the weight of Tommy’s pointed silence – it’s all suffocating.

If he follows for one more step, he’s going to end up saying or doing something he’ll regret.

No one notices when he stops tagging along – which is just typical, a nasty little part of his brain thinks – no one at all.

No one except for Eret, who darts a glance over their shoulder and almost doubles back, expression plainly worried.

Fundy quickly shook his head and shrugged, reluctant to disrupt the dejected parade and draw attention to himself.

Eret, Prime bless them, seems to understand without a word. They smile, nod, and carry on after the others.

Their door will be open later for him, he knew. If he came back soon enough, he’d even have someone available to rant to if need be.

Just the knowledge of that is a huge relief to Fundy. Eret always seems to get him when he’s in these moods, and even when they don’t, they’re always at least willing to listen.

Which is more than could be said for the rest of Fundy’s family.

And that wonderful thought is an excellent segue way into an immediate downward spiral. Fundy shakes himself hard to rid himself of the impulse to follow that down the rabbit hole. He predictably fails miserably.

Focus, dammit.

Except what else is there to focus on? The botched attempt to bring his crazy dad back to life?

Oh, hey, that’s not good for his mental health either. Great.

Fundy spins right around and starts stomping back up the Path without a single care how immature it might seem or who might see it, headed straight back where they’d come from.

He walks steadily across the glass carefully immortalizing the greatest disaster that had befallen the SMP so far, making sure not to look down for longer than a few seconds. He makes it back to the bizarre little revival shrine in record time without a host of noisy spectators slowing him down, just in time to avoid the slight drizzle the cloudy sky had been threatening the entire latter half of the afternoon.

He steps very carefully onto the blue and yellow brickwork, eyes trailing over the uncomfortably familiar little offerings placed all over like the world’s worst interior design project, before he reaches the middle and has to bite down hard on his cheek to prevent the litany of swear words wanting to escape his mouth.

Philza hung the sword on the wall, before he left.

Just- just put it up there, like it’s no big deal, like it’s a fucking prop, like it isn’t the sword he used to stab his son, Fundy’s father.

Nope. Nope, nope, Fundy isn’t okay with this.

He grabs the handle and pulls it down, and that’s as far as his planning goes. He’s left standing there like a fool holding his father’s murder weapon, heavily debating the pros and cons of either putting it down on the floor so it at least doesn’t look like a reward, or giving up entirely on composure and screaming and throwing it down into the ugly scar in the earth outside. Let it rot in the bedrock with the rest of his father’s legacy where Fundy will never have to look at it again.

But before he can decide which is the option less likely to leave him crying his eyes out to Eret later tonight, a gentle voice echoes behind him. “What are you doing, Fundy?”

Fundy straightens involuntarily upon recognizing that voice, and turns automatically. “Wil- er, Ghostbur?” He almost moves to hide the hideous thing behind his back, but Ghostbur is already floating there staring and that really would be the end of his dignity, so he just lets it hang awkwardly from one hand. “Why are you here? Did you follow me?”

Never mind the tiny stupid feeling in his chest, fluttering in excitement at being noticed.

Ghostbur hummed curiously, carefully shaking water droplets from the rain off of his steaming hands. “Hmm? Oh, no. I mean, I noticed you were gone and all, but I didn’t know you’d be here. I just came back myself, that’s all.”

Hope squashed. Fundy nodded with a hum of his own, face carefully neutral.

“So what are you doing?” Ghostbur repeated, and suddenly having an audience just makes Fundy feel very, very stupid.

His ears flattened against his skull as he stuttered a reply, “W-well, you know, I just thought, well I mean it seemed, it was just, I. Uh.”

Ghostbur tilted his head innocently. Fundy wanted to sink into the bricks under his feet.

Fundy holds out his free hand and gestured emphatically. “What are you doing here?”

Master of changing the subject, he is.

Luckily, with Ghostbur, it doesn’t really matter how dumb the change of subject is, he just rolls right along with it. “Oh, well, Phil and Tommy both went back through the Nether Portal to head home, so I didn’t really know who to follow. They were both a bit sad, so I gave them some blue, but Phil still looked upset so I- I thought maybe I’d come back here one more time, just to see if I could remember anything else that might help.”

Fundy didn’t even bother trying to disguise the bitterness in his voice when he snorted. “Well, that was a nice thought, but I doubt any memories you have of this room could make Phil less upset.”

Ghostbur smiled emptily, pulling a bit of blue out of one pocket to cup in both hands, and immediately Fundy feels awful. Being sassy to Ghostbur never feels satisfying or rebellious, just cruel.

Grimacing, Fundy glared down at his own bit of blue, too large and shaped like the world’s ugliest sword, tamping down on equally ugly feelings in his chest. “But you can do whatever you want, I won’t stop you. I’m just, glad you’re not planning to go through with an unannounced midnight resurrection to surprise us all in the morning with, or something.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

Fundy blinked and looked back up. “Huh?”

Ghostbur shrugged and smiled nervously. “Oh, you know. Things change, given time. Places, people… decisions… you know? People change their minds all the time! Especially when it’s a really important or dangerous decision! And it usually works out just fine!”

It took a second for his meaning to get through. When it finally did, Fundy suddenly felt rather cold

“So, wait. You’re saying you… don’t want to be revived anymore?”

Ghostbur worried his tiny bit of blue between his fingers, shoulders slowly inching up towards his ears. “N- well- I don’t- I don’t think so? No, I don’t think so, Fundy. I’m sorry.”

Sorry? Really?

“Why would you need to be sorry?” Fundy asked, voice a bit too loud even in his own ears.

Ghostbur grew even more tense, his hands kneading the blue even faster as he ducked his head. “I just- well, I know Phil was disappointed, even when he didn’t say anything. He gets this look on his face when he- Anyway, Tommy was, was saying some things about Wilbur, and- that place I fell into was just awf- And, and I just- I just thought that-”

The ghost’s stammering became more and more incomprehensible, slowly fading out in that way it usually did when Ghostbur was starting to forget something.

Watching his expression become quietly distressed was painful in more ways than one, so Fundy cut him off. “It’s okay Ghostbur, you don’t gotta explain yourself if it hurts.”

If anything, his attempt at consolation only made Ghostbur more upset, dammit. “But that’s just it, Fundy! If, if it hurts for me, it must hurt so much more for everyone else!” He cradled his head in his hands like it hurt.

“Everyone was so excited today, everyone was working together, even after you and Phil had that falling out-”

Fundy flinched. He wouldn’t exactly describe being banished at sword point from Philza’s Arctic base without even a chance to try and explain himself as a simple ‘falling out’-

“-you still both came and no one was arguing and, and Eret was going to apologize and finally talk things over with Wilbur, and it was perfect but-”

Ghostbur’s face was wretched as his hands dropped, the picture of abject misery. “But it didn’t work, and that place was so empty, and I- I just don’t think I can do it, Fundy. I don’t want to go back there. I’m so so sorry.”

Fundy swallowed hard.

“That’s fine, Ghostbur,” and fuck, why was his throat so tight, why were his eyes stinging, “Nobody’s gonna force you if you don’t want to.”

The little ghost looks so pathetically grateful in that moment that Fundy has to turn away, has to look anywhere else lest something mortifying comes out of his mouth.

But his brain is a dirty traitor, so his eyes land back on the shitty sword, and all he can do is try to process.

Should he be angry to hear that?

Should he be relieved to hear that?

Fundy isn’t sure. He never really knows how he should feel, when Ghostbur is around.

On one hand, that’s his father, and a good day with his father back when he was alive was a day where talking to him – or arguing with him, more often than not – didn’t make Fundy angry enough that he couldn’t think straight for an hour.

On the other hand, Ghostbur can’t remember many of those days, good or bad. From what he’s said in the past, his memories of Fundy are all the scattered bright spots of their lives together; the day Fundy was born, the day they chose his name, their days in L’Manburg, little snippets here and there of jokes and teasing that had still been lighthearted, before a war and a presidency and a betrayal made all of their casual jabs carry jagged edges they hadn’t before.

Ghostbur is kind, and cheerful, and always wonderfully, terribly happy whenever Fundy is around to visit and talk to. A stark contrast to Fundy’s memories of the last few months of his father’s life, where the man was sullen, snappish, giddy and half-crazed one moment, menacingly calm and collected the next.

It’s an incredibly disquieting thing to think about, so Fundy doesn’t very often. Now, of course, he can’t help it; standing here, in this macabre, borderline cartoonish little shrine filled with all of the things that slowly drove the man into the grave, it’s impossible not to think of all the things that make the ghost of him so much better. And so much worse.

Because Ghostbur isn’t his father, and that is equally both a blessing and a curse.

Every conversation he has with Ghostbur just leaves Fundy feeling frustrated and a bit guilty, the two emotions spinning a waltz right in the middle of his guts until they’re twisted into knots.

Ghostbur’s entire existence is frustrating, but even in Fundy’s worst moods, he’s never wished ill on him.

In the end, all of these feelings of betrayal and heartbreak and anger are all Fundy’s alone to remember.

And that’s totally fine.

Yep.

Ghostbur was never actually involved with any of Fundy’s worst memories, so it wasn’t his job to try and fix anything between them.

It’s just on Fundy to deal with it.

And he can definitely do that.

Definitely.

Just, maybe some other time or somewhere else, far away from the stone that had once been stained with his father’s blood, with his literal murder weapon not in his hands.

Staring down at it right now is not doing Fundy’s emotional state any favors, thanks.

He breathes out unsteadily, holding the damn thing out horizontally with both hands, rather tempted to do- something unpleasant to it.

“Fundy?” Ghostbur asks from too close and very far away, voice echoing with confusion and worry. “Are you okay?”

But Fundy isn’t really listening.

He doesn’t want to accuse Ghostbur of anything when he doesn’t even know what he’s feeling. Arguing with Phil accomplishes diddly-fucking-squat.

But maybe-

He’s not really sure what he intends to do in the moment his grip tightens – the loud, stupid traitor part of his brain that always insists he yells louder during an argument to get his point across (as if anyone would actually listen) is clamoring for him to snap it over his knee like a twig, never mind how impossible that is with literal diamond – but it doesn’t really matter.

He is abruptly reminded why it is a rather bad idea to grab a sword by the blade end without reinforced gloves.

“Ah! Hell!”

Fundy curses vehemently under his breath, relaxing his grip quickly before he can do something even more stupid.

And then-

“Oh.”

He says it so softly.

Not scared, or sad, or panicked.

Ghostbur approaches and sees blood welling in between Fundy’s fingers, and he blinks like he just took a wrong step in a dark tunnel, and finally realized which way home was.

Blood drips down Fundy’s fingers and on to the sword, carving a path down where his father was run through, and drip-drops onto the ground still stained blue with evidence of a failed resurrection.

“Oh,” Ghostbur repeats quietly, and blinks out of existence.

“Wha-?!” Fundy jolts in surprise, which, ow, fuck, nearly slices his damn fingers off. He flings his empty hand further away from the diamond blade’s razor edge-

-just in time for Ghostbur to flicker back into view.

“Jesus Chr- dude! Hasn’t Tommy ever told you not to go invisible without warning like that?!” Fundy has to remind himself not to yell, because the ghost of his father he might be, he doesn’t actually want to start a fight right now.

Ghostbur doesn’t start stammering apologies immediately, doesn’t rush forward with a little bit of blue bandage to help Fundy feel better, doesn’t mumble in worry about forgetting something again because someone got hurt.

Maybe any of those should have been the first clue.

But Fundy doesn’t notice those clues right away, grimacing down at his bloody hand and looking for somewhere to put the damn sword that isn’t on the rack like some terrible trophy or on top of a stack of dynamite (why would they choose dynamite of all things to symbolize his father his traitor brain demands, why did Philza allow that, he should know better than anyone that guitars and books and warm sweaters would have done the trick of luring Wilbur in, that they had always made dad happiest back when he was younger and happier and not clawing at the walls of a tunnel and threatening to blow up the home he’d founded and built for himself and his friends and Fundy-).

“What?”

Fundy half spins, still looking for a suitable place to put the stupid fucking sword, looks up-

- sees a tall silhouette and his vision blurs for just a second; he blinks hard, shakes his head-

- does a double-take and freezes.

At the first glance, he was exactly the same as he was before; bright yellow sweater stained blue in a gruesome approximation of the fatal wound that took his last life over plain black pants, hair hidden by a beanie older than Fundy has even been alive, pale like snow with circles dark enough to be bruises underneath his eyes.

He was the same as he always is, except not anymore, because Fundy can actually see him. And he’s standing.

Not see through him. Not at a dull, washed out copy of the man that made a rather poor show of raising him. Not floating just slightly above the ground like he should be.

That’s not Ghostbur at all.

Fundy sees Wilbur, eyes wide and face entirely slack with shock, with skin flushed just slightly with color rather than lifelessly white.

He’s standing right there where Ghostbur used to be, not transparent, not desaturated, not- not dead.

Is he dead? He should be. Why is he not-?

For one silent moment the world stands frozen on the edge of a knife, the two locked in a disbelieving staring contest.

Fundy blinks first. The man that should be a ghost is still not see-through, and full of more color than he should be.

The world has utterly ceased to make any sense.

Fundy’s fingers went numb.

Metal clanged unnoticed as that awful, ugly sword bounced off a brewing stand and hit the ground, splashing unremarkably into a puddle of mud.

Dead silence is left in its wake, broken only by the patter of rain that is suddenly so very far away.

Wilbur swayed a little on his feet. His face slowly contorted, warping Ghostbur’s final expression of gentle surprise into quiet, pained horror. His hands rose to press shaking fingers against his middle, where the appalling reminder of his violent end had always freely dribbled blue down his front like paint.

Fundy gaped back in response, ears ringing, heart pounding too fast and painful in his ribs, black spots eating at the corners of his vision- what is- why-

A slow, startled inhale became a choked, ragged gasp.

The specter that might have been a man stumbled.

Hurt and betrayal, anger and hatred; it all tumbled right out of Fundy’s spinning head.

One unsteady step forward-

- Wilbur’s knees buckled-

-and Fundy ran.

-.-.-

Miles and miles away in a place too dark too small too quiet, the walls glittered sickly in the light of magma sluggishly dripping over the only exit; a sticky, uncomfortable heat flooded the room only to be sucked away by the volcanic glass encasing it.

The room was utterly barren except for two things; a chest, and the resident seated upon it.

A lone young man sat hunched forward in the not-light of the lava-reflecting obsidian and stared blankly at the dark, dark walls around him.

Too still.

Too stiff.

Too quiet, quiet, quiet for far, far too long; all day, every day, ever since his favorite visitor had escaped and he’d been left all alone with nothing to play with again.

If someone were to look in at him, they might not even think he was breathing. Perhaps they would question, then, what the point was of such an elaborate cell for nothing more than a corpse.

But then-

-cold diamond slice through skin, warm blood drip-drip down, death become life again-

a movement, finally.

The young man’s blond head jerked upright, like a shock, like it was the first time in a long time that he had blinked awake.

His hungry green gaze swept his cell and fixed on the death trap that should have been a door, beyond even that, past weeping obsidian walls and wide empty fields, past the broad stretch of a long, long road to a country now lay in ruin, to a room of broken walls painted with the hope and suffering of the fathers and sons of one particular family.

For the first time in weeks, the young man’s eyes came to life with something beyond sheer boredom.

For the first time in an age, the god hidden under his skin did the same.

Dream and the shadow that shared his name stared wordlessly at the strange family reunion for one long heartbeat, then two.

Neither blinked.

They just tilted their head, curiosity personified; the closest either would come to admitting some semblance of surprise.

“Huh.”

#Dream SMP #Wilbur Soot #ItsFundy #fanfiction #my writing #in progress #fanfic rec #multi chapter

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purplecatghostposts · 4 years

Note

If you're still doing the song writing ask thing,,, could I ask for frenmy(or as others call it,, frenreylatta) with 1 or 24? 👉👈 Or just frenmy in general I will appreciate and holde whatever

CANNNN do!!

(Also I’m juuuust now realizing these are song titles I just saw one word and went ‘LETS WRITE A DRABBLE OFF OF THIS’ oops- uh enjoy either way!)

—

For better or for worse, Tommy isn’t always taken completely seriously.

Which is fine. Tommy can brush it off, he might have some “Childish Interests” but he’s a grown adult, he can take a hit or two.

(Tommy doesn’t know why anything has to regarded as childish when anyone can and should enjoy anything and not get shit for it but that’s a whole other can of worms).

But when Tommy says things like, “Grab a soda, it’ll help you see faster!” Nobody thinks twice about it. Which is good, because Tommy didn’t mean to say it at all. There’s certain things Tommy doesn’t like to talk about and his more ‘Inhuman’ attributes is one of them.

Son of “The G-Man” has a few perks after all.

The ability to make his eyes glow and see in the dark, the ability to create- both living and non living things, immortality and the ability to share it with something like a dog he created with his own two hands, and most of all, a connection to Time itself.

Tommy has all of these abilities under control, except for the very latter of the bunch. Because turning on and off your eyes like a flashlight is something he’s been doing as a kid; Immortality he was born with, sharing it came to him in his late twenties; and while difficult, Tommy now has a bit of a knack for creation; but Time? Time is something else entirely. It’s its own entity, and not even his father has much control over it.

And of course, with a difficult entity like Time, Tommy got saddled with the worst ability to have little control over. His father, G-Man, can freeze, suspend, and even travel through it. Tommy can see it, and Time shows him too much.

Tommy does not dream, he Sees. The branches of time are shown right before his eyes whether he likes it or not, and possibilities are laid out. Time is not set in stone- there’s millions of timelines and ways it could go- and when he sleeps, Tommy can see them.

There’s no physical way to stop it without fully mastering it, but Tommy has found that there’s a few things that can make it more pleasant or at the very least, bearable. Low stress or going to sleep happy and content means he usually sees happier timelines. Caffeine, for whatever reason, means that when he sees timelines, it’s at a speed where he doesn’t have to comprehend anything or have to see something he doesn’t want to see. So far, it’s the only two methods he knows, and since he can’t always control how stressful his situation is, Tommy turns to soda.

He means what he says. Soda helps him see faster. He’s just glad that he doesn’t have to explain it to Gordon. His inhuman attributes used to scare other kids off when he was younger, and he knows that Gordon is an adult like him and probably won’t run, but the fear runs deep and Tommy keeps his mouth shut.

Benrey knows, of course. He’s not human either, he understood. But even when Tommy has bad dreams, he doesn’t like to bother other people about it. They’re just dreams, he can handle them.

Until they get personal.

Tommy has been seeing dreams about how it could end for them in Black Mesa for days now, but his intake in soda means he doesn’t really process them. They pass by in a flash and Tommy wakes up and promptly forgets about whatever was shown to him.

But of course, his luck runs out.

Tommy’s leg bounces anxiously as he stares at the broken vending machine. Nothing but water- no caffeine. Water is good for survival- Gordon gulps it down greedily then gawks when Benrey eats the whole bottle in one bite making Tommy laugh- but it means Tommy’s at risk for bad visions. And with the stress of soldiers starting to come at them as well as aliens, he suspects that tonight will not end well.

There’s a tug at his sleeve. Tommy glances down to meet Benrey’s eyes, who studies him silently. He knows something’s up- of course he does- but Tommy smiles like there’s nothing to worry about. Benrey won’t confront him directly- not unless he’s certain it’s really bad- but he has a feeling that Benrey’s still going to try something in his own little way.

“Getting late.” Gordon comments, rubbing his eyes. “We should probably get some rest.”

“Baby Feetman wants a nap?” Benrey grins lazily. Gordon rolls his eyes in response, but doesn’t look all that annoyed. He’s more relaxed than usual, looking less like he’s a twig about to snap and more a river who’s just going with the flow. In fact, Tommy swears Gordon smiles for a second.

“Shut up, you got dark circles under your eyes. You could use it too.”

Benrey rolls his eyes. “Haven’t slept this entire time, don’t intent to start now.”

Both Tommy and Gordon’s attention snaps to him. Benrey almost shrinks under the spotlight, looking utterly confused. “Uh... Care to fill a bro in on what I said wrong..?”

“You haven’t slept?” Gordon’s voice raises.

“Benrey, that’s not good for your health!”

“Jeez fuck- I don’t need to sleep to live, guys.” Benrey cuts in. “Not like you guys. Besides, someone’s gotta keep watch so like, I don’t sleep. S’not a big deal.”

“Benrey, you- you told me that half of your energy to use your abilities comes from sleep.” Tommy says slowly.

“Yeah, and the other half is food. What of it?”

Gordon joins in. “We’ve gotten the bare scraps of food down here. You- you have to be running on empty.”

“Don’t worry about it, Bro-”

“No!” Both Tommy and Gordon shout simultaneously.

Benrey jumps, eyes darting between the two of them and rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, this isn’t fair, you’re tag teaming me, I deserve someone on my team.”

Dr. Coomer pokes his head from around the corner, Bubby following. “Is something wrong? We heard some shouting!”

“Hey, Coomer, Bubs, you uh, you gotta back me up, they’re bullying me.” Benrey points accusingly at Tommy and Gordon respectively.

Bubby shrugs. “Just do what I did whenever someone bullied me.”

“Somehow I feel like this is going to be bad advice...” Gordon mumbles.

“Set them on fire.”

“Andddd I was right.”

Benrey pretends to consider it for a moment. Gordon rolls his eyes at him, earning a smile from Benrey. “But uh, these two keep yelling at me because I haven’t slept. Tell them to stop.”

Dr. Coomer frowns and Bubby narrows his eyes. Tommy snickers to himself, knowing Benrey isn’t winning this battle.

“You haven’t slept? What the hell do you think you’re doing? Fucking dumbass.”

“Benrey, sleep is an important function we all need to live!”

Benrey groans into his hands. Gordon grins cockily. “Hey, Bubby, Dr. Coomer, mind taking watch tonight while Tommy and I get Benrey to sleep?”

Bubby snorts like it’s obvious. Coomer smiles brightly and nods. “Of course! If anyone tries to come after you in your sleep, we’ll take care of them, if you know what I mean.” Coomer winks, then makes a punching gesture.

Gordon laughs at that. Tommy rather likes when Gordon laughs, his whole body moves with him. It’s wholehearted and genuine and if it were possible, Tommy would love to bottle it and keep it with him.

Tommy’s fully aware that he’s rather smitten with Gordon and Benrey. Benrey’s his best friend and Tommy is fine if it stayed that way, but he’s also felt a certain romantic fondness for him too. Benrey’s not easy to decipher but Tommy has learned he shows he cares in the subtle ways. How Benrey learns to read people and distracts them when they feel down. He’s done it to Tommy himself, and recently, he’s seen a very similar sentiment towards Gordon.

And Gordon wears his heart on his sleeve, which is endearing on its own. Tommy sees the way he acts around Benrey and around himself, and he can’t help but wonder if Gordon might feel the same way he does.

They find a place to camp out and before he knows it, Tommy has Gordon on one side and Benrey on the other. Despite lying on the concrete ground, Tommy doesn’t think he’s ever felt more comfortable in his life. Benrey’s curled up next to him and Gordon is lying on his side with an arm over him and Tommy feels himself get lulled to sleep. He doesn’t want to ever move again.

His dreams are not as kind as his situation. Because Tommy Sees all possible timelines, and one too many of them involve two of the people he cares about most in the world.

Benrey betrays Gordon and gets his hand get cut off. Gordon betrays Benrey and Benrey comes back not looking quite right. Gordon lets Benrey die, Benrey lets Gordon die, Benrey stands on an alien planet and attempts to kill everyone- does kill everyone. Gordon stands on an alien planet and sees Benrey being the thing they have to kill and he doesn’t hesitate.

They tear each other apart, no matter what Tommy says or does. And in a few timelines, their rage is directed towards him, and Tommy’s heart breaks into two.

“Tommy? Tommy, bro, c’mon, you gotta wake up.”

Benrey’s voice pulls him out of it. Tommy sits up, trembling and reaching out blindly. His vision is blurred and all attempts to speak come out as quiet sobs. A pair of hands grab onto his while a second gently touches his shoulder, grounding him to reality.

“Benrey?” It’s deathly quiet but it’s unmistakably Gordon’s. “Benrey- his eyes- is he okay? They’re- they’re gold-!”

“I know, dude, this happens sometimes, he’ll be okay.” Benrey responds, shockingly calm. “Tommy sees bad things sometimes when he goes to sleep and sometimes they’re overwhelming and this happens. Just... Trust me and follow my lead on this?”

A beat. Tommy tries to wipe his eyes but tears keep streaming down his face.

“Okay. I trust you.”

Tommy can’t see but he has a feeling Benrey is smiling a little at that.

Benrey and Gordon both begin to whisper reassurances and ask him what he can feel around him. They talk and talk and talk until eventually, Tommy can finally see them again and the anxiety in his chest is manageable.

“Thank you...” Tommy gives them a weak smile.

“Bad visions?” Benrey guesses. Gordon looks mildly confused but doesn’t ask questions. Tommy nods in response. “You... Wanna share or nah?”

Tommy’s gaze lowers. He sucks in a small breath. “It- it was a lot of bad timelines with you two. And I-...” He hesitated for just a minute but thinking of the timelines again made him push through it. “And I really care about both of you. A lot. In- in a platonic as well as a... A romantic way.”

Silence. Tommy swallowed thickly, not wanting to look at either of them and unsure if he made the wrong choice to tell them or not.

“Oh thank god, I’m not the only one.” Gordon blurted out. He let out a long breath, laughing softly. “I was- fuck, I was really struggling there.”

Benrey cracked a smile. “Cringe Gordon can’t deal with gay feelings? How embarrassing for you. Can’t believe I have gay thoughts for such a loser.” His eyes turn to Tommy and his smile grew. “I guess having gay thoughts for a really cool guy balances it out so it’s chill.”

Tommy couldn’t stop smiling. Was this really happening? Were they really all just on the same page? “R-really?”

Benrey shrugs. “‘M kinda surprised, thought I was obvious.”

“You’re not obvious with anything.” Gordon tells him, rolling his eyes but relaxing his shoulders.

“I...” Tommy let out a laugh. “I- I really care about you both! And- and after we get out of Black Mesa... I want us to stay this close.”

Benrey nodded. “‘Course we will. You’re some of my best bros and how else would I kiss you both goodnight like all bros should?”

Gordon snickered, then cleared his throat. “Hey uh... Have we all just been holding this in the entire time even though we all felt the same-!”

“YES.” Bubby screaming from across the room made all three jump in surprise. Bubby and Coomer were both sitting by the door, Bubby wrapped in Coomer’s arms but he still scowled at the three of them. “You’ve all been pining like a bunch of fucking idiots. Just ask a guy out by setting half a building on fire like a regular person!”

Tommy looked back at the other two and laughed to himself. Soon enough, the three of them were laying down again but this time, Tommy wrapped his arms around one each and held them close to him. In the morning, they could talk more about the three of them and their newly forming relationship, but for now, they deserved to rest.

Gordon’s head rested against Tommy’s shoulder while Benrey clung to him. Tommy felt his eyes get heavier and heavier but he wasn’t as afraid of getting a bad vision. Partly because he had two of the most important people in his life in his arms and he knew that those futures wouldn’t be his, but also partly because even if the visions did get to him, he had support when he woke up.

His own personal paradise. There was a light at the end of the tunnel and Tommy knew that by the end of this, he wanted both of them by his side and in his life for a long time.

—

I don’t know why this turned into a Tommy Lore/Angst Fest BUT hopefully it turned out alright! I hope you liked it! These three are veryyyy soft and it was sure fun to write! Feel free to send in another request if you want!

#hlvrai #half life vr but the ai is self aware #benrey #hlvrai gordon freeman #tommy coolatta #frenmy #frenreylatta #SB Writes #My Fic #My Drabble #Ask Meme #Ask Game

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autumnblogs · 4 years

Text

Companion Piece 4: Reproduction

This was initially going to be a standard daily reading post, but I decided to turn it into a companion piece since it turned into a bit of an essay.

https://homestuck.com/story/1071

Time for another main theme; and actually, I would like to call it the main theme!

Homestuck is about reproduction.

Why did I wait for this panel to talk about it? The answer is that it’s one of three panels (at least - there might be more I’ve missed) that clue us in to the fact that the same thing is going on in each of the three situations where it appears.

Dave is the first victim. Tavros is the second victim. Jake is the third victim.

https://homestuck.com/story/1072

“thats really all there is to say on the matter.”

The code phrase that goes along with the imagery of our hero thrashed on the ground, messaging on their phone.

More after the break.

According to my reading, Homestuck is structured around a trio of relationships that take the form “Abusive Mentor -> Reluctant Student” where the pairs are respectively Bro -> Dave, Vriska -> Tavros, Dirk -> Jake.

It should be pretty obvious that reproduction in the biological sense is something that Homestuck Is About - Sburb, the main fixture of the webcomic’s mechanics is the reproductive cycle of universes, the way that reality propagates itself. Shipping is all over the place in Homestuck, and from Act 1 onward, characters are entertaining the possibility of relationships with one another as the author teases the audience with the possibility of any two particular characters getting together, before circumstances conspire to make them incompatible.

But Homestuck is about other kinds of reproduction too. Cultural reproduction, for example. As the guardians pass down rituals to their respective wards, as the Trolls’ dancestors communicate with them from across time through journals, treasure troves and the like, as the kids absorb pop cultural expectations about what it means to be men and women, the Culture that surrounds them is reproducing itself through them. They conform to the image of the times by adopting the symbols of mass media, and by playing out the rituals that define living in 2009.

Personal reproduction, too, exists in Homestuck as a microcosm of the large-scale cultural reproduction going on in the background radiation of the characters’ lives. Each of the abusive mentors is focused on transforming their desired ward into a copy of themselves. Bro tries to beat all of the softness out of Dave, and expects him to be interested in the same things that Bro is interested in. Vriska subjects Tavros to brutal physical and emotional violence because she sees him as weak and wants him to be strong - she wants him to be cruel and violent, more like her ideal of a strong troll. More like her image of herself as the ideal troll. Dirk spends an awful lot of time telling Jake that he needs to be more like Jane, telling Jane that she needs to be more like Jake, because the reality is that he wants both of them to be more like he is, and as Jake’s rough-housing “buddy” he denies him things that he needs to survive on the basis that they will be worthless to him unless he can seize them by way of violence.

In all three cases, the attempt to reproduce the self in the student serves not to empower them but to subordinate them to their mentor. Dave becomes traumatized and learns to hate and fear the sound of clanging and grinding metal, fear that he’s living under constant surveillance. Tavros becomes so incapable of dealing with stress and violence that he spends most of the second half of his session dreaming uselessly on Skaia. Jake becomes so afraid of touching another person that he decides that y’know? He’d rather just be alone for the rest of his life.

Reproduction is in the very fabric of Homestuck, all throughout the variety of instances that Doc Scratch will refer to later as Circumstantial Simultaneity. Certain poses are replicated between totally different characters as they have emotionally similar experiences that tie into the same core themes of the comic.

Certain phrases are repeated ad nauseam as the comic calls attention to its own recurring, recursive nature.

Each of the first three quarters of Homestuck - Acts 1-4, Acts 5-1 and 5-2, And Act 6 up through Game Over set up these three relationships, and once each one is set up, the rest of the comic is spent knocking it down, before the final quarter of the comic ultimately serves as the stage for each of the students to determine how they’re going to move beyond their abuse.

Because cycles of abuse are a kind of reproduction. There’s no easier way to turn a human being into an abuser than to subject them to abuse. And Homestuck seems to suggest that cycles of reproduction are frequently subverted into cycles of abuse. Any time reproduction is used for another reason than to build up, to beautify, to make something exist just so that it can exist - any time reproduction is used as a form of hegemony, to replicate one’s self instead of producing something new, it turns stagnant, and toxic.

There is no place in Paradox Space for stagnation, for trying to keep things the way that they are, for the preservation of particular images and particular forms the way that we remember them.. There is no place in Paradox space for immortality, the self-congratulatory, the masturbatory, the incestuous, the cancerous - for individual cells, or for individual selves to live forever, and keep copying themselves ad nauseam. Every living thing in Paradox Space is slated to die, because it’s how Paradox Space cleans up the old, and makes way for the new. Death and Birth are always intertwined. You can’t hold onto your Mom or your cat forever, Rose. You won’t live forever, Dave. You can’t watch Con Air the same way ever again, John. Your friendships have to come to an end some day, Jade. But every time something in Paradox Space dies, every time the act of reproduction takes place, it makes Paradox Space a richer, healthier place. The old is lost, but old things are recombined with one another, and diversify, leaving behind things that bear the hallmarks of the old, but are each special and different from the old, and from each other, in their own unique ways.

Reproduction, in the world of Homestuck, is an act that has to take place entirely for the benefit of the children, not for the benefit of the parents. Any time the reproducers use Reproduction as a tool by which to profit, to hegemonize, to immortalize themselves, it creates something that makes Paradox Space a weaker, sicker, frailer place.

#reproduction #sburb #doc scratch #bro strider #vriska serket #dirk strider #dave strider #tavros nitram #jake english #companion piece #commentary #not liveblogging

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atamascolily · 4 years

Text

Unicorn Chronicles, Book 3: “Dark Whispers,” by Bruce Coville

Whenever people grumble about how long it's been since their favorite fanfic updated, I can't help but smile a little in sympathy. As someone who's read a lot of CLAMP manga, I've grown used to the stutter-stop of hiatuses and discontinued stories that will never be finished. To quote the Princess Bride, "Get used to disappointment". It's just an occupational hazard.

I know people who only read completed stories, but I would have missed out on a lot of great material and works that really matter to me if I followed their example. It also meant that I got really good at imagining what happens next.

So it was a delight to discover that Bruce Coville had actually finished the Unicorn Chronicles when I was busy with other stuff (i.e., life) and there were two more volumes. Coville specifically thanks readers for nagging him about finishing, which is simultaneously #hilarious and #relatable.

Song of the Wanderer came out in 1999, right on the cusp of the Harry Potter boom that shook up the juvenile fantasy genre. (Both series are published by Scholastic.) Dark Whispers came out in 2008, and you can see how much the genre has shifted in the cover art alone:

This is gorgeous art by Petar Mesedlzija, but it only tangentially fits the descriptions in the books: Cara doesn't really wear anything like this outfit, and the story emphasizes she keeps braiding her hair to keep it from tangling. She has a sword, but she doesn’t really ever use it?

Furthermore, the layout, design, and chapter headings of Dark Whispers are clearly meant to capitalize on Harry Potter: Grimmwold has a looping signature reminiscent of Dumbeldore's in the opening prologue, for instance. It's a very different feel from the way the first two volumes were presented, and tbh, I miss the old way that has gone the way of the dinosaurs now.

Inevitably, with such a long gap between volumes, Dark Whispers ended up with a very different style and tone than its predecessors. The most obvious difference is that it's REALLY LONG--464 pages in hardcover. Some of this increase in length is attributable to Harry Potter proving that giant fantasy tomes can sell like hotcakes, and some of it is the fact that the storyline is now really big, with a lot of different players moving in different directions.

Inevitably, this means that instead of following Cara's POV for the entire book, as we did in the first two volumes, we are constantly shifting narrators. It's completely understandable, but as a reader, I find it really annoying--like I am suddenly reading an entirely different series with overlapping plot and characters. It's not that this new series is bad, per se, it's just... not what I imagined when I was making up the ending in my head in the early 2000s. I do not know if this disjunct would be so obvious or unsettling to someone who was reading all four volumes together for the first time.

Anyway, so since it's been literally a decade, Coville makes the sensible decision to open with a recap from Grimmwold, in his role as the keeper of the Unicorn Chronicles: unicorns and human hunters are at war; the latter are lead by an immortal woman named Beloved with a personal grudge against the unicorns, and she just got an amulet so she can invade Luster.

In Cara's plotline, she is still coming to terms with the fact that her grandmother, Ivy Morris, was a unicorn in disguise, and is now Queen Amalia Flickerfoot. Her grandfather Jaques is super depressed (because literary references, yo) and also because this is super-weird for him, too. As they prepare for Beloved's assault on Luster, Grimmwold reveals that pages from the Unicorn Chronicles are missing, and that others reveal an unsettling prophecy about unicorns confronting their own darkness and a mysterious figure called the Whisperer.

Another human, Alma Leonetti, comes forth and suggests that the centaurs might know more details. The Queen sends Cara and her friends to investigate, while Jaques and Thomas the Tinker go on separate missions. Thomas does give her a watch that marks the days and also explodes, so you know right away she's gonna need both on her trip. M'Gama the geomancer is trying to determine where and when the Hunters will invade: the date is the forthcoming Blood Moon, but she's still working out the details on the place.

Grimmwold tells the group a story about Alma Leonetti, and how she tracked down the wizard Bellenmore, who opened the gate to Luster for the unicorns. Bellenmore has a snarky talking lizard and great tastes in decorating:

On the mantel above the fireplace stood a row of earthenware mugs with hideous faces. One of them winked at me; another leered and rolled its eyes; a third stuck out its tongue and made a rude noise. Then they began to sing a bawdy song until Bellenmore waved a hand to silence them.

Alma bluffs her way to Luster and eventually persuades the unicorns to keep one of their kind on Earth so humans don't forget true beauty and goodness and the spark is kept alive. The hunters keep trying to kill the Guardian, but they always replace the fallen with a new one and the cycle repeats.

We also learn that Ivy summoned Moonheart to heal Cara as a child, which is what alerted Beloved to her presence, forcing her to kidnap Cara and flee because Beloved wanted the child, too. Ian Hunter was a first grade teacher who had no idea about any of this until Cara disappeared and he was radicalized by Beloved and went through an intensive training camp she's built up for her army.

Meanwhile, Ian is in India, tracking down the Rainbow Prison where Beloved has imprisoned his wife. He makes a deal with a mysterious entity, the Blind Man, trading occasional use of his sight for the knowledge he needs. Beloved's men attack Ian, but he is saved by a street urchin named Rajiv who is eager for adventure, and the mysterious Fallon, who is trying to find a doorway to Luster. The three of them team up and head for the Himalayas to find the doorway to the Rainbow Prison while Beloved's forces pursue them. We learn that Fallon is super-hot and also seeking his best bro Elihu, in a relationship that I'm pretty sure was sexual although it's never stated directly.

There's also a plotline involving the delvers - the evil dwarves we mostly forgot about in Book 2. The King keeps talking to the Whisperer, and sending his subjects to do Evil Things as the alliance with Beloved continues. (The delvers do not love humans, but they hate unicorns and so the "enemy of my enemy is my friend" at least temporarily).

The plotlines converge when the delvers attack M'Gama the earthmancer's house and steal a macguffin and kill Flensa, M'Gama's servant. Cara's party splits up, with Finder and Belle hunting the macguffin while Cara and Lightfoot continue on. Finder is killed (sob) and Belle regrets being a jerk to him. Cara's group is attacked by delvers and she is captured and taken underground. (The delvers either don't know Beloved has an amulet already/don't care/want one for their own purposes.) Cara tosses the amulet into an abyss when it fails to transport her to earth, and she is imprisoned in the dungeons with a delver dissident who has had his name ritually stripped from him for defiance.

Cara renames the delver "Rocky" and the Squijum shows up with the amulet and steals the key. They meet up with Grimmwold, and escape. They also encounter the gryphon Medafil, who is lost below ground, only to wake a monster known as the schwartz, a Terminator-like blind dragon that never gives up pursuit. Cara defeats it using the expanding light sphere from Medafil's nest, and they emerge in the centaur's valley, where Belle is waiting for them with the news of Finder's death.

The centaurs are standoffish, but eventually Cara persuades their leader Chiron to spill the beans: after the war with Beloved began, the unicorns decided to expunge all the darkness from their souls with the aid of a magician named Elihu (hi!), which gained sentience and has been egging Beloved on ever since. It's also corrupted the delvers,which is why they hate unicorns so much. In exchange for the info, Cara agrees to mercy-kill Chiron, which none of the centaurs can do for personal reasons. Cara reports this story to the unicorns, who are all :shrug emoji: about it.

Meanwhile Ian and company are stuck in the Rainbow Prison, the Dimblethum is being tormented by the Whisperer, and ends up taking the macguffin the delvers stole and placing it at the Axis Mundi, the world-tree of Luster, so that Beloved and her forces can enter there. Lightfoot tries to stop the Dimblethum but isn't in time. And the book ends on the seriously metal note of Beloved opening the portal beneath the blood moon and invading Luster with her army. *cue 'Bad Moon Rising'*

[Which, I may note, is pretty much where the LAST BOOK also ended.]

SO. That was a lot.

Once again, the core group of characters from Book One gets broken up. Thomas the Tinker gets sidetracked pretty quickly and isn't seen again; the Dimblethum gets a few brief sequences, but doesn't do much until the end. Lightfoot and Cara are separated fairly early on and don't have much time together, though their musings about their sudden familial connections at the beginning are nice, even though Cara also keeps shipping Belle with Lightfoot. Lightfoot himself doesn't get to do much, Finder dies, and Belle is likewise sidelined by the narrative for a decent chunk of the story. Coville also keeps emphasizing that Lightfoot is a Prince, which just grates on me, too.

I would also like to see more of Cara? She has plenty of scenes, but after two books of focusing solely on her, it's so strange to suddenly be jerked in different directions and it makes me grumpy.

It's great to see Medafil again, but I found the whole delvers/underground plot to drag on too long for my tastes. I'm glad Coville brings back that one delver from the first book who let Cara go because he thinks (rightly) his king is batshit crazy.

I like Alma Leonetti's story, but it feels unrelated to the plot, so I'm not entirely sure why it's there. I think it was originally a stand-alone short story, and I think it's better suited as one, because I can't figure out what its narrative purpose is. Or is it just that Grimmwold is contractually obligated to tell at least one story per book?? Or maybe this is something that will pay off in Book 4.

Ian Hunter's story basically bores me, and I found that whole subplot extremely tedious. He's been more or less retconned to be sympathetic and a victim, and I just don't know how I feel about that.

I HAVE SUCH MIXED FEELINGS ABOUT THE BIG REVEAL. On the one hand, it's a great twist to see the psychological shadow as the literal villain; on the other hand, it takes away some of the delvers' and Beloved's agency as villains in their own right because they're now Pawns of a Bigger Bad. It also just seems like such a weird thing for the unicorns to do--and maybe that's a way of making them more alien, but I don't know.

Coville explicitly uses the word 'hubris,' so it also feels weirdly victim-blaming to me because the unicorns are doing it to themselves (and this isn't just a war, but genocide we're talking about here!). For better or worse, this twist muddies the black and white/good vs. evil paradigm into shades of gray: the unicorns are beautiful and good but also arrogant assholes; Beloved is homicidal but also in terrible pain; the delvers are misunderstood and need to be embraced rather than ignored.

Alma Leonetti consistently delivers the best lines - I guess she's taken over the role Ivy Morris used to play, since Ivy is now a unicorn:

"Perhaps the unicorns need to try to recover some of what they have lost?... You face a dedicated enemy who has shown no mercy, one who will stop at nothing to destroy you. And what have you done? Gathered together, which is good. Prepared to defend yourselves, which is good, too. But is it enough? How fiercely are you willing to fight to save your lives? How strong can unicorns be? ... Maybe you need to take in some of that darkness you once released."

I remember feeling oddly disappointed on my first reading, which unfortunately persists on re-read. This story has now moved in a very different direction from the one I expected, and while that's not necessarily bad, it is unsettling and strange. As I mentioned earlier, some of that might just be that the final result doesn't match the story I made up in my head; or it could just be the inevitable result of such a long gap between books and the changes in the fantasy market post-Harry Potter. I don't know.

(I wish I had written down my thoughts about an ending--aka fanfic--because while I could write one now, it’d be reacting to canon, rather than creating it.)

Either way, major kudos to Coville for writing this book, because I had assumed the series was dead and would never be completed, and he fucking did it. That’s such an inspiration, honestly.

#book reviews #unicorn chronicles #dark whispers #childhood influences

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Streaming on Plex: Best Movies and TV Shows You Can Watch for FREE in September

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This article is sponsored by Plex. You can download the Free Plex App now by clicking here!

There’s an overwhelming amount of new movies and TV shows hitting streaming services this fall. If you’re starving for new content, it’s set to be a fantastic time, but if your wallet is starving for funds, it can be pretty stressful. With studios and content providers spreading their libraries out across so many different streaming services, keeping up with all of your favorites can get expensive. Thankfully, Plex TV is here to keep you entertained without breaking the bank.

Plex is a globally available one-stop-shop streaming media service offering thousands of free movies and TV shows and hundreds of free-to-stream live TV channels, from the biggest names in entertainment, including Metro Goldwyn Mayer (MGM), Warner Bros. Domestic Television Distribution, Lionsgate, Legendary, AMC, A+E, Crackle, and Reuters. Plex is the only streaming service that lets users manage their personal media alongside a continuously growing library of free third-party entertainment spanning all genres, interests, and mediums including podcasts, music, and more. With a highly customizable interface and smart recommendations based on the media you enjoy, Plex brings its users the best media experience on the planet from any device, anywhere.

Plex releases brand new and beloved titles to its platform monthly and we’ll be here to help you identify the cream of the crop. View Plex TV now for the best free entertainment streaming and check back each month for Den of Geek Critics’ picks!

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DEN OF GEEK CRITICS’ PICKS

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

They’re the world’s most fearsome fightin’ team. They’re heroes in a half-shell and they’re green. I mean, what more do we need to say? 2014’s Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles is no Citizen Kane, but comic book movie fans flock to it like the four titular turtles to pizza. The film knows exactly what it is, providing cheesy one-liners, silly action, and unpretentious fun. Throwing in Will Arnett as a sidekick for April O’Neil was an inspired choice that paid dividends in laughs and whoever tapped Tony Shaloub to voice Splinter should get a pay raise. Produced by Nickelodeon Pictures, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles wasn’t only the highest grossing film in the series, but also the highest grossing Nickelodeon film of all-time. This reboot of the classic ninja team helped spawn further films, new TV series, and a renewed interest in one of the most beloved comic book properties ever. Cowabunga, dude!

Noah

This isn’t your Sunday School’s Noah. Darren Aronofsky’s adaptation of the story of the biblical figure Noah is an awe-inspiring epic that takes the bones of the famous story and infuses themes about environmentalism, self-doubt, and yes, faith. Pulling liberally from texts like the Book of Enoch, the film has far more action than just leading animals onto a boat and a storm. Shot by Matthew Libatique, the movie looks absolutely gorgeous and at times can be genuinely breath-taking, but it’s not just about the visuals. Russell Crowe stuns in the title role, but the entire ensemble is great, including a post-Potter Emma Watson and a ferocious Ray Winstone. No one expected Noah to be more akin to a thought-provoking art house film than a straight-forward epic, but that’s the sort of genius you get from Aronofsky, one of the most exciting and inventive filmmakers working today.

Shine a Light

Even if we hadn’t just lost the immortal, suave Charlie Watts, the heartbeat of rock and roll’s longest institution, The Rolling Stones, we’d still be recommending Martin Scorsese’s Shine a Light. Capturing the legendary band during their A Bigger Bang Tour in 2006, Scorsese spends a lot of the time rightfully focusing on Watts. With the camera fixated on Watts, you witness his unflappability; the way that he can make such raucous playing look so effortless. You also catch the man’s unique, jazz-influenced technique, like how he rarely hits the center of his snare, or how he changes his grip whenever he hits a cymbal. Even in their old age, the Stones are still one of the tightest, most electrifying live acts, and Shine a Light puts you right on stage with them as they barrel through one of the deepest catalogs in recorded music. It’s simply a masterful concert film.

The Virgin Suicides

Sofia Coppola likely has to deal with accusations about nepotism to this day, but anyone who saw her directorial debut The Virgin Suicides knows that Francis’ daughter would have made it as a filmmaker even without her famous last name. This haunting adaptation of Jeffrey Eugenides’ novel of the same name taps into the melancholy of childhood, the dreamlike haze of memory, and the mystery that lurks inside suburban homes. Coppola expertly captures the pull that an ethereal group of sisters have on the imaginative group of boys that pine for them in a way that is relatable for anyone that had an unrequited crush in high school. As a coming-of-age movie, it is one of a kind. As an exploration of trauma and grief, it is crushingly effective. The original score by the band Air only adds to its hypnagogic vibe.

Rock ‘n’ Roll High School

Punk rock music and Roger Corman pictures are some of the core tenants that Den of Geek was founded on, so of course we’re going to recommend 1979’s Rock ‘n’ Roll High School, which features possibly the coolest band of all-time, The Ramones. Let our resident punk rock movie expert Jim Knipfel break it down for you:

“After producing so many dozens of teen rebellion films over the years, Corman finally hit the pinnacle, the ultimate teen rebellion picture, with the cartoon antics ratcheted up more than a few notches. There are so many bad jokes flying around, so many visual gags and film references packed into every scene, so many overwrought teen film clichés pushed way past absurd, it’s a film that demands multiple viewings. Even if “Riff Randall, rock ’n’ roller” (P.J. Soles) doesn’t look much like any punk chick I ever knew, I’m perfectly willing to accept it. And in historical terms, it really was this film more than the 4 albums they had out at the time that spread the word about The Ramones to mainstream America, and that’s worth something. Old as I am I still get a thrill every time the students and the Ramones blow up Vince Lombardi High, and anyone who doesn’t must be wrong in the head somehow.”

New on Plex in September:

1000 Times Good Night

13 Assassins

The Accidental Husband

All Good Things

Assassination of a High School President

Awake

Bent

Bordertown

Brain Dead

Cold Mountain

The Descent

The Descent Part 2

Even Money

Fear City

First Snow

Freedom Writers

Gray Matters

The Jesus Rolls

Johnny Was

Keys to Tulsa

The Legend of Bagger Vance

Mad Money

Marrowbone

Murder on the Orient Express

The Ninth Gate

Nothing but the Truth

Ordinary People

Rememory

Rock ‘n’ Roll High School

Sanctuary

Shine a Light

Soul Survivors

Taboo

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

The TV Set

The Virgin Suicides

What Doesn’t Kill You

Winter Passing

World Trade Center

Catch before it leaves in September:

Absolution

Accident Man

Aeon Flux

After.Life

Angel of Death

Answer Man

The Bang Bang Club

Battle Royale

Blood and Bone

The Broken

Cashmere Mafia

Child 44

Cleaner

Cold Comes the Night

Coming Soon

The Connection

Conspiracy

The Cookout

Critical Condition

Dark Crimes

The Death and Life of Bobby Z

Death Proof

Dickie Roberts: Former Child Star

Downhill Racer

Dragged Across Concrete

The Dresser

The Duel

Dummy

Flight of Fury

Flirting with Disaster

The Foreigner

Goat

Gutshot Straight

Halloween III: Season of the Witch

The Hard Corps

Hesher

High Right

Honeymoon

The Hunt

I Saw the Devil

In the Mix

Jason and the Argonauts

Jeff, Who Lives at Home

Jiri Dreams of Sushi

Joe

Journey to the West

Kill ‘Em All

A Kind of Murder

The Kite Runner

Lake Placid 2

Lake Placid 3

Last Resort

The Lazarus Project

Misconduct

Mr. Church

Mutant Chronicles

Mythica: The Godslayer

Mythica: The Iron Clown

Never Back Down: No Surrender

News Radio

Noah

Ong Bak: The Thai Warrior

Ong Bak: The Beginning

The Order

Out for a Kill

The Outcasts

Phantoms

Pistol Whipped

The Protector

Pulse (2001)

Reprisal

Return to the Blue Lagoon

The River Murders

The Romantics

Second in Command

Shadow Man

Shattered

The Shepherd

Southside with You

Space Station 76

Square Pegs

Standoff

Starship Troopers 2: Hero of the Federation

Starship Troopers 3: Marauder

Steel Dawn

Substitute

The Super

SWAT: Under Siege

The Terminal

The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada

Touchy Feely

Trollhunter

UFO

Universal Solider: Day of Reckoning

Vamps

Vicky Cristina Barcelona

Walking Tall: Lone Justice

Warlock

What Planet are You From?

World’s Fastest Indian

World’s Greatest Dad

The Yellow Handkerchief

Still streaming on Plex:

2:22

2 Days in New York

21 Jump Street

22 Bullets

24 Hours to Live

3rd Rock from the Sun

6 Bullets

99 Homes

A Little Bit of Heaven

A Walk in the Woods

The Air I Breathe

Alan Partridge

ALF

Alone in the Dark

Amelie

American Pastoral

And Soon the Darkness

Andromeda

Are You Here

Arthur and the Invisibles

Awake

Battle in Seattle

Bernie

Better Watch Out

Black Death

Blade of the Immortal

Blitz

The Brass Teapot

Bronson

The Brothers Bloom

The Burning Plain

But I’m a Cheerleader

Cake

Candy

Catch .44

Cell

The Choice

Clerks II

Coherence

The Collector

Colonia

Congo

Cooties

The Core

The Cotton Club

Crossing Lines

Croupier

Cube

Cube 2

Cube Zero

Cyrano de Bergerac

Death and the Maiden

The Deep Blue Sea

Deep Red

Derailed

Detachment

The Devil’s Rejects

Diary of the Dead

District B13

DOA: Dead or Alive

Dr. T and the Women

Eden Lake

The Edge of Love

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kogo-dogo · 4 years

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Layman’s Guide to the Sixth House

You know, it’s been a long time (literal years) since I’ve infodumped bullshit about Morrowind to people, and I feel the itch now and maybe this’ll inspire some people to actually play the damn game. If not, at least it’ll lay the groundwork for people when I inevitably angry-write some kind of twisted eldritch House Dagoth bullshit to provide myself the content I want (after I get done with all the HLVRAI/Half-Life shit I have on my plate).

OKAY COOL.

I present: “The Sixth House for Dummies: You’re Not Actually Dummies But I Will Explain This To You Anyway”

Dateline: Year 668 of the First Era

You are an elf named Voryn Dagoth. You are a very powerful elf in charge of a very powerful political house, House Dagoth, and the best friend of the war-king of your people, some asshole named Nerevar Indoril. Your people--the Chimer--are living in the shadow of a very technologically advanced, elitist, perpetually bitchy race of elves known as the Dwemer who, for a long while, were your enemies because... well, your people just stormed onto their land after an argument with their old neighbors and said, “We live here now.”

The Dwemer and Chimer only stopped fighting because other people tried to show up on your lawn and live there. And now your king, Nerevar, is trying to make that ceasefire last because it’s kind of nice to not be always beating the shit out of each other.

But oh! There’s a problem! During some run-of-the-mill diplomatic visit with the higher-ups of the Dwemer, you discover that they’re building a goddamn, divinely inspired war machine in their basement. That... does not sound good. That actually sounds really fucking bad.

So, what do you do? You politely excuse yourself, run home at Mach II, throw open the king’s door, and yell, “Holy FUCK, you know those assholes we’ve been trying not to fight? Bitch, I think they’re going to nuke us.”

Because that is, admittedly, something a technologically advanced, elitist, perpetually bitchy race of elves would do.

So your king says, “Dude, I’m gonna go talk to them about it like a civilized adult, because me and their king are tight as fuck now that we ain’t bludgeoning each other to death. I’m sure it’s all a huge misunderstanding.”

A few hours later, though, your king comes back and says, “Okay, so. That didn’t work out how I hoped it would.”

Your name is Voryn Dagoth and you have accidentally started a war.

Dateline: Year 700 of the First Era

Okay, you are Voryn Dagoth and things were a lot worse than you expected. The Dwemer are building a literal war god out of dead god parts they found in a volcano, and now everyone is involved. Nerevar has an entire posse of people to act as advisors/generals--you; some dude named Vivec who wants to have sex with anything that moves; Nerevar’s wife, Almalexia; Sotha Sil, a mage who doesn’t know how to people very well; and this guy named Alandro Sul who nobody will remember, I promise. You are the oldest, and you do not like these other people very much, but you know what? They know what they’re doing, so we’ll let it slide.

The war has been terrible and, to be honest, considering the fact the Dwemer have goddamn robots on their side and your people are still fighting with spears, it’s impressive you’ve not been utterly destroyed. Again, these advisors seem to know what they’re doing. So much so, actually, that in a final, decisive battle, they help you and Nerevar bust straight into the citadel where they’re building this war god so you can just fight this war god yourself.

The Dwemer panic. The guy in charge of building the war god pulls out a fancy set of tools the second he sees you coming and does... some weird ritual that involves the heart of a dead god. Their entire race vanishes, bringing the war to a very anticlimactic end.

So here you are, confused, standing there with Nerevar and the Scooby-Doo Mystery Gang, holding these weird tools at arm’s length going, “What the hell are we going to do with these? The fuck is this? We should melt these down, right? This seems bad.”

Except most of the Mystery Gang (barring Alandro) is begging you not to destroy them, and Nerevar is flustered and dazed from having the ever-loving fuck knocked out of him, so he tells you, “Bro, I’m gonna go talk to god and see what she has to say about it.”

And you’re like, “... O... kay. I guess I’ll stay here.”

“Don’t let anyone touch this shit, though. Deal?”

“Yeah, cool. I won’t let anyone touch it. Go talk to god, I guess.”

And so Nerevar and the barnyard gang leave you there, alone, with these magical objects that just obliterated an entire race. And you sit there, kind of wondering how it works. So you play with them a bit--feels weird, man--but you’re still pretty thoroughly convinced these things need to be tossed in the volcano and bulldozed over. You hold this thought until the barnyard gang comes back, sans Nerevar and Alandro, covered in blood and demanding the tools.

“Where’s the boss?” you ask. Well, they tell you he’s busy or whatever and you know that’s bullshit. These motherfuckers just killed your best friend, and now they’re asking for these items that just obliterated an entire race. They don’t seem like the type of people who should have them, so you flippantly tell them that your goddamn king told you not to let anyone touch the fancy tools and if they want them so bad, they can go get Nerevar and have him come take them from you himself.

They do not like this answer.

Your name is Voryn Dagoth. Your best friend’s murderers have just killed the shit out of you and taken your impossibly dangerous tools away.

Dateline: Year 882 of the Second Era

Your name is Voryn Dagoth and you are somehow not dead. You wake up in the place you were “killed” and are incredibly pissed off by what happened. The world has changed significantly. Your people, the Chimer, are now called the Dunmer and look completely different. The guys who killed you have somehow obtained god-like powers and are worshiped as deities. Nerevar is now patronizingly considered a saint by his murderers, who also used his dead body as an undead servant and then fucking lost it somehow.

Oh, and your political house? You, your family, everyone? Have been branded “evil” and responsible for every calamity that has befallen your homeland (now named “Morrowind”, apparently, which is also different) since you’ve been out cold. They won’t even speak your name out loud. “House Dagoth” is now “The Sixth House” and “The House Unmourned” because everyone hates you. You know, for doing what you were told and not murdering your king.

Fine. Fine! Two can play at this game, can’t they? In the words of a great scholar, “I was supposed to be good, but you forced me to be bad. So I’m going to be BAD.”

You decide that you’re going to finish the war god. You’re going to take over Morrowind. Fuck, you’re going to take over the whole fucking continent. You’re going to restore order, you’re going to fuck shit up. If they’re gonna fuck with you, you’re going to fuck right back.

You plot. You scheme. When your murderers, thinking you are very dead, come back to use their fancy tools on the Heart (now with a capital H) to restore their stolen divine essence, you mug the shit out of them. You take the tools, you chase them off, you bring back your kin who were executed for just being a part of House Dagoth and you say, “Rise and shine, bitches! We’re starting a religion! Who wants to be immortal?”

And everyone raises their hands because, like, come on. Wouldn’t you?

Now you and all of your brothers and sisters are back and angry, construction on the war god resumes, and you start hardcore studying these magical tools to figure out how the fuck to use them properly. Because you are going to cram your foot so far up the asses of the people who killed you that they are going to be choking on your toenails.

Your name is Voryn Dagoth, and you are feelin’ fine as fuck.

Dateline: Year 427 of the Third Era

You are Voryn Dagoth, and things are going pretty okay. You can do a lot of weird shit with the heart of a dead god, you find, though it’s not the prettiest way to make things happen. You’ve always prized yourself on being a diplomatic and poised guy so, you know, the fact you’re having to stoop to some rough, not-very-aesthetically pleasing lows is not ideal, but it works, and that’s what counts.

Like, you can control disease. The people call it Divine Disease, and it’s got about a 50% success rate on people afflicted, with half of them becoming weird masses of tumorous growths who just drool and eat people and the other half decaying and regrowing parts until they look like weird elephant squids who are still all-there in the head but look really weird. They’re loyal and they’re good company, though, and for some reason everything the disease touches is immortal and insanely strong so. You know. It works out.

You can also mind control people, and infiltrate dreams. It’s good for recruiting people without a plague, and it’s good for issuing orders, and it’s good for freaking people out. That last one is proving to be the most useful, because all of these idiot mortals are now pointing fingers and arresting each other whenever they have a nightmare because, “Oh my GOD, Becky! You’re a DEVIL WORSHIPER.”

So, that’s fun.

The war god is almost constructed and even though it’s taken over four-hundred years (which has given an invading Empire time to take over your home; sucks to suck, huh?), you’re getting a good foothold. Stealing your fancy tools from your murderers means they’re garbage at being gods now, and you’ve managed to expand your enterprise to all sorts of caves and strongholds where your followers butcher non-believers and dance around naked by candlelight. You have assassins in major holy cities that are tearing shit up. You got operatives selling cursed idols right outside of temples in borderline plain sight.

But, lo, there is something on the horizon and it’s vaguely familiar. It’s some scraggly motherfucker that gets dumped off of a boat in the middle of a swamp, and you can’t help but feel as though you’ve seen them before. Or, well, felt somebody like them before. It’s a vibe thing, really, since they don’t look anything like anyone you know, and you don’t really know anyone because you’ve been living in a volcano for hundreds of years.

You take a special interest in this one because of the familiarity. You send them dreams, and you send them personalized invitations to come join your cult. You send your followers to watch them sleep and, like, try to kill them because you’re not sure if this is a good familiar or a bad familiar. They never really take you up on your offer or, you know, die, though.

And the longer you watch them go on, the longer you watch them do things, the more you realize... holy shit it’s Nerevar, bro.

Sure, some superstitious tribals have been chanting about how Nerevar Indoril will come back from the dead for revenge someday (as claimed by Alandro Sul, that guy that nobody remembers), but that was so far beneath your gaze that you kind of let it slide. And now here he is, amnesiac and wearing a new face but checking all the boxes, and he’s being specifically led on a path to come meet you. You know, to kill you.

So, you disease that motherfucker. Incurable god plague, baby! Except he somehow... cures the incurable god plague and he’s still coming. Jesus Christ, he’s persistent.

And... oh no, he’s siding with Vivec, the slutty guy who fucking killed him. You’re raking your claws down your face grumbling under your breath because, you dumb sack of shit, that man murdered you. Don’t listen to him, listen to me. I’m the one in the right, bro, I’m the one who was loyal to you.

And now god herself has endorsed him and he’s walking into your citadels and stealing your stolen tools back and, dude no. Stop. We were friends, bro, what the fuck is wrong with you?

And now he has the tools and he’s coming into your actual house and you’re just sighing in exasperation and trying to explain to him that, you know, you guys are friends. You will totally still let him join your side if he stops cracking open your followers’ skulls. Except he’s still skull-cracking and he’s still coming and...

... Great, now he’s right in front of you. Fantastic.

Okay, so you want to offer him amnesty one more time, but it isn’t going to work. You’re tired, you’re pissed off, Nerevar has somehow grown to believe that you are somehow in the wrong (which you are obviously not; taking over the world with a manufactured war god and a horrific plague seems perfectly justified to you), and worst of all? He has so many questions. He’s just blathering, demanding to know why you are the way you are and it’s just like.

Bro, this is kind of your fault. You left me alone with dangerous, desirable objects while you went to go talk to god. If you’d just let me destroy them in the first place, this never would have happened. Fuck it, offer rescinded. You can’t join my club anymore, Nerevar. Now throw hands or get out of my house.

So, Nerevar throws hands.

You and the reincarnation of your former best friend and king are now having a hair-pulling, spell-slinging, bloody fucking knock-down-drag-out in the middle of a volcano in the shadow of a war god. Your cultists are idiots who keep falling into lava trying to intervene. Nerevar keeps attempting to bypass you to get to the creamy, god-heart nougat at the center of your war god because you know he knows how to undo all the magical shit it’s capable of.

Somehow. Probably because Vivec figured it out and told him.

And if he gets to the Heart and he does that ritual, then your war god is done for. So are your falsely-divine murderers. And, unfortunately, seeing as those divine powers are the only thing keeping you alive after your murder, so are you.

And he’s getting so fucking close and he’s actually got there and you’re trying to burn him alive or claw his face off or literally anything you can do as your powers weaken the longer this ritual goes on until, finally, you look up and see that your war god is collapsing. Nerevar has won. The world is going black. It’s like somebody flipped an “off” switch in your brain.

Your name is Voryn Dagoth. You accidentally started a war, did all the right things, and were murdered. You tried to enact your revenge, you thought you were restoring order, and now your best friend has come back from the dead and killed you.

The last thing you see before you hit the ground is all of your hard work literally falling on top of you. You still don’t understand how any of this was your fault.

#kogoramble #morrowind #info dump #this is VERY long #I apologize #spoilers for a game that's nearly 20 years old

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