#but I feel like it's in the realm of suspended disbelief

[coockie8]

watched Lilo and Stitch the other day and a piece of my soul died at the 2$ adoption fee. Getting an animal from the SPCA where I live costs like $500 now :/

[ogsherlockholmes]

The Hound of Watson's Grief

I made a post a few weeks ago about how all of the Holmes stories could be interpreted as Watson's imagination in order to compensate for his loneliness (sorry for putting that idea in your heads) and I wanted to expand on that by focusing on The Hound of the Baskervilles. So, prepare for some inarticulate rambling which I hope will make sense.

One of the things that has always struck me about this particular story is ultimately how different it is from the rest of the canon: not just Holmes' noticeable absence in the mid-section, but the emphasis on Watson's description and the supernatural features. Although these can still be seen in the other stories, The Hounds of the Baskervilles still seems to exist separately from them, and I have a an idea why this is.

The Hounds of the Baskervilles, as a story, was never meant to be. Holmes was dead- ACD was proud to announce that. He had rid himself of the so called 'great detective', and could focus on more historical serious novels. But, alas, he thought of an interesting story line, and could think of no other way of conceiving it without help from Holmes. So, Holmes was prematurely resurrected, without any form of indication that he was actually alive, or if this was D Watson writing up his notes, or if the audience should just suspend their disbelief and read the story as an undefined prequel.

Realistically, that is about all there is to say about the premise of The Hound of the Baskervilles: the story just is, and we have to accept that. But what of THotB is purely a work of fiction, including within the realms of the fictional world of Sherlock Holmes? In some ways, THotB could be read as Watson finding an outlet for his grief for Holmes.

Firstly, Holmes' absence: not just in the story, but in Watson's life and in the public's life. Holmes was dead, with no chance of return... supposedly. He had died offstage, with no witnesses, apart from the man who died with him, so no one could check with him if Holmes was actually dead. For Watson, the only proof he had of Holmes' death was a letter, with no body to bury; for a man who had spent so much time with someone so furtively based on facts, I can't imagine that that would have felt right to him. Holmes was dead, but where did he die? It's reasonable to suppose that Watson went through a stage of denial, believing that Holmes was still alive. Of course, he couldn't admit that to the public (like so many other things... the unreliable narrator that he is) so he would need another outlet. So, why not write a story involving Holmes? Maybe Watson began writing, including all the quintessential characteristics of Holmes (his quick deductions, sarcastic quips and his effortlessness in complimenting Watson), but then the realisation of his friend's death dawned on him. Watson looks back on his work, and remembers that he now must solve mysteries by himself. Holmes is busy elsewhere, and Watson is alone.

Watson begins a tirade of long, flowery descriptions (in the words of Holmes "cut out the poetry, Watson") which are usually skipped over in the shorter stories. We are fully immersed in the gloomy Dartmoor with its "tinge of melancholy", and the introduction of an escaped prisoner: Selden, the Notting Hill murderer. This feels like compensation for Watson forcing Holmes' logic in the earlier chapters, almost as though he's trying to build another story for himself. The addition of the Baskerville legend also seems more alligned with Watson's interests than Holmes: overall, THofB becomes more of Watson indulging himself in a fairy tale than reporting facts, as Holmes would prefer.

Still, Watson is just as dutiful as ever, writing letters to Holmes, but receiving little response. Again, this might be a parallel for Watson's life: he wishes to communicate with his late friend, but hears nothing back. Here, Watson might be doubting himself again: he's obsessing over Holmes' death, so much so that he can't be sure he's even dead. A glimmer of hope: maybe Holmes is alive, and he's out there, waiting to come back. Watson mentions "the figure of a man upon the tor", the "tall, thin man" which is undeniably Holmes: he allows himself this fantasy, to the point where he explicitly states this idea when he reveals that Holmes has been with him in Dartmoor all along, but hiding away from him. But, he can't be too certain, so Selden (who could be seen as a mirror to Holmes as he is confused with Holmes as being the figure on the Moor) is killed off as soon as Watson finds Holmes. Again, Selden is killed offstage and by falling off an edge, which sounds familiar...

Now, Watson has his Holmes back, in theory. He ends the story by describing Holmes being involved in other matters which he doesn't provide too much detail on, as per usual. The story was quickly and almost effortlessly resolved, with the antagonist, Stapleton, seemingly dead but the protagonist, Henry Baskerville, saved. I don't think it is too much of a stretch to say that Stapleton and Baskerville are Moriarty and Holmes substitutes, respectively (Stapleton's academic backgrounds and unusual characters; Baskerville's assertiveness, Watson's detailed descriptions of his movements and appearance, the implication that Selden's death was originally confused as his). So, here is another instance of Watson applying the narrative he wants, almost as though he's manifesting Holmes' resurrection.

I've thrown many ideas together which can probably be easily disregarded, but I tried rereading the story with this perspective, and I think it helped me make sense of certain aspects of the story which never sat comfortably with me. Although I'm not claiming to know the true reason why ACD wrote THotB, I do hope that you can understand the point I'm trying to make.

[a-998h]

Aska nd ye shall receive!!!!!

SAGau idea!

Reader almost always plays on co-op since they unlocked it alongside their three friends at scheduled intervals when they all have the time.

Said reader can also code, and to make up for the fact that not all their friends can buy or pirate (cuz of lack of cash or storage) games they have, they make mods they add in, then add out, alongside lots of solo beta testing.

(if this isn't possible IRL, suspend your disbelief)

Also theres no NSFW in this ask or being requested it's just jokes a la "3AM challenge gone wrong! Gone sexual"

also there's one implication of catholic trauma

plus capital letters

Sorry if anything makes no sense

Anyways—

===============

The Backrooms

*insert law & order audio*

Reader, playing Aether. "I added the Backrooms."

The Kaeya Main "Oh God."

The Childe Main "You added the what??"

"Same." «== they're playing and want to adopt Ferminent

"The Backrooms, this fictional idea that even an infant hitting their elbow wrong has the .000001% chance of—this is not mathematically accurate—teleporting you to this uncanny infinite realm, and the only way out is to somehow repeat what got you in there. And I don't think doing either on purpose is humanly feasibly."

"I understood none of that but okay." The four laughing ensued.

"okay but" wheezing "how— how are we gonna get in if you can't do it on purpose??"

"yeah that sounded like a little bit like an oversight."

"a LiTtLe BiT"

"literally just click that button that wasn't on the screen before."

"oh "

pop!

"oooh god. I'm getting catholic flashbacks!"

"oh shit you okay? Do you need a break or—"

"no. No I'm good"

"oh good"

"Any monsters to worry about?"

"yes." They all start laughing "Unless it's bugged in co-op because I only play tested this on single player!"

"backrooms gone wrong! We died! Gone sexual!"

"cops called!" "sixty nine hospitalized!"

"no!" Laughing continues and as it dies down: "we're escaping the backrooms, and I'm using the version with clues to reaching the next levels so we're not stuck here all day."

"so are you gonna help us oooorrrr . . . "

"you're alone, I'm gonna be following you around as you screw around!" The dying laugher peaks again

"you put us in this mess!" "you allowed me too!!!"

And then the loudest inhumane scream ensued, alongside theirs as they scattered.

"Kane pixels monster is real! Is this the Kane pixel backrooms? Oh good we're all fucked!!"

"and the wikidot!" Now only reader was laughing

"are you speaking a different DIALECT?!"

"pretty much" gasp "it's chasing meee!!"

"you deserve it! Daaance deluded puppeteer daaance!!" And then the reader ran in their direction from behind "you used me as a meat shield!"

"to demonstrate we all get four lives! If we die a fifth time, we start at the first level again, repeat!"

"yeah that reassures me" they say sarcastically, now controlling Zhongli "wait first level—?"

"there's arrows on the walls" "tell me where, I'm gonna carry this team"

==========

"What the heeellll, I can't even see any damage on the monsters" "you can't kill what cannot be killed"

"oh crap." Dies. Xiao takes Zhongli's place

"disorder? In MY backrooms??"

"it's more likely thank you think!"

=================

"Since when did you change from Kaeya to Ayato?"

"since when did you die all the way back to Freminet?"

"I didn't I got gooood!!" Spinning circled around them "Aahh!! Friendly fire! Friendly fire!"

Freminet is replaced with Gaming "I literally hate you"

"I love you too <3 AAAAAA—"

================

"guys help! I clipped into the walls!"

"you reap what you soooowww, fucker!" A sword strikes them "AAHHH!!"

================

"I think this is what the abyss feels like"

"I think that's an insult" "you've never been in there"

===many deaths & respawns later===

"you're a monster you know that right"

Giggling, "yes yes yes!!"

"we should do that again" "as the one with arthritis from carrying you idiots, I veto it."

"veto denied :D"

The Wither Storm

Playing Kokomi "what is it this time"

"Wither Storm :)" Reader, playing Fischl looks up at them

Playing Xinyan "uh oh"

Eula "on a scale of one to backrooms, how difficult will this one be?" "Collateral damage"

"and that's ignoring the proximity voice chat!"

Fast paced breathing "oh thank God that wasn't a thing in the Backrooms, we were just using discord"

"yeah it's a shaaaame"

"wait, we couldn't lay a finger in the Backrooms"

"you can kill the wither storm and still engage in friendly fire"

"thank goodness!!"

"so what's in store?"

"I'm gonna teleport us to another plane—because we don't want Teyvat harmed in the process—and we're gonna summon the wither storm and kill it."

"let's do it blind."

"yeeeesss!!!"

"did we not learn from the backrooms???"

"no we did not!"

"blind it is! Let's go!"

"wait—!"

===============

The Wither Storm is summoned! And like a standard wither simple shoots out skulls that destroys where it hits and inflicts withering on any living being.

"WHAT THE HEEELLLL???"

"LOOK WHAT YOU DID!"

"guys get building materials—!" Xinyan is replaced with Lisa who is far, far away from where the death was "And I withered away. And I'm away from everyone

"wow, I can't hear anyone!"

===============

Beamed up by the Wither Storm: "guys help"

"one I barely heard you, scream next time, two it's already to late for you." Eula is them eaten in one piece by one of the storm's mouths

"oh my fucking god it has a halo . . . It has like four of them" Looking up, far away from the group with Yae Miko, running away after a head faces their way

Far far away, Kaeya takes Eula's place in the plane

(Google image "crackers wither storm" to get what I mean in the last paragraph)

===============

"bestie!!" Reader controlling Hu Tao walks up a small hill

"Oh my God! Bestie!" Another Hu Tao looks in their ideection, they run towards each other "regroup! Regroup! We gotta regroup cuz the next phase is gonna begin!"

===============

"we did all that work and never even got a nether star" Sitting down with Heizou

"says who?" Back with Fischl ":O"

"the inventory . . . " They habitually jump with Kazuha

"oh, what's this I see?" sticking to Hu Tao after the Wither Storm

"who wants to read the description?" By now everyone opened their inventory to find a fourth of a white, purple tinted four-pointed star

"As testament to your suffering, a piece of the Nether Star joins you growing treasury!! A Devastation reduced to a mere chapter in your life"

"look, I get that after we're done you just remove the mod forever and leave it to gather dust, but at least, at least let us keep this even after removing the Wither Storm mod."

"and let us make a beacon while your at it!"

"sure why the hell not!"

"what the hell is a beacon and will I want in?"

"you all will!!"

"yes we do!"

"you don't even know what it does!x

"and neither do you!"

===============

Personally I imagine that Teyvat is a bit split on this.

On one hand, their Grace is far too happy with their friends who Teyvat deems as fellow Creators they play around with and they're playing around with their divine powers.

On the other hand, making mods and bug testing is time consuming and both of these take attention their Grace could be giving them instead.

They've heard plenty times the Creator complain about their world's spaghetti code, the Reader has cursed the creator—"who the hell made this?"—many times and Teyvatians interpret this as either the Creator having lost their memories or an act of self-hatred or a blend of both.

It doesn't help how Reader curses themselves whenever they find an error in their own code

Though I wonder the thoughts of Vessels from four worlds being used for four gods to meet in scheduled meetings either during normal gameplay or modded gameplay.

No but imagine some vessels doing things their code supposedly shouldn't allowed but it gets brushed off as a mod glitch 😭 lmao, like say, Kaeya muttering "Cataclysm . . ." To himself during the Wither Storm and only barely not being noticed

BRO WHAT WILL LIKE KHAENRI'AH PEOPLE AND ARCHONS AND OTHERS THINK WHEN THEY SEE THE NETHER STAR FRAGMENTS FORM A FOUR-POINTED STAR TOGETHER AKA THE NETHER STAR WHICH IN TEYVAT THE FOUR POINTED STAR IS THE SYMBOL OF KHAENRI'AH?

That's all I have in me today

feel free, not but pressured, to add your own ideas, add onto my ideas, etcetera, etcetera as you please, you got my absolute blessing

take your time as needed

Hope your having a good day!!

Thank you for sending me this.

This is awesome on its own and it must be shared.

But seriously, you're right. Teyvat wants you to be happy, but only with them. So they come up with a plan.

They're going to not work and basically annoy your friends off the game. They know I'll make you sad, but you have them to make you feel better.

If you friends are extra stubborn, then more extreme measures are but in place. Like bugging out, not ascending but taking the materials, and stuff like that.

Eventually when your friends quit the game, you go back to solo mode. Now you spend your time with them. While it makes them sad to see you upset about being able to play with your friends anymore, they'll be your new friends and be the best characters they can for you.

After, you'll be with them soon.

[jane-the-virgin0]

Knocking at death's door

WOOOO it took a metric hour for me to decide that making an Obi-Wan fic would be a good idea!

summary: ~right before ROTS~ you're the Princess of a foreign land, about to be Queen. your father, although unknown to you, is Palpatine (pls suspend your disbelief), and you have force lightning powers. your powers have been sensed by the Grand Council and they know that you'll be recruited to the dark side, so they send Obi-Wan and Anakin to kill you before you can be used as a weapon. your life is doomed from the start, but Obi-Wan can't complete his mission.

pairing: Obi-Wan/reader

rating: 18+, minors DNI

warnings: violence (it is Star Wars), eventual smut, fluff, angst, death, age gap (reader is 24)

chapters: 1/?

w/c: 1258 (this is just a teaser, if people like it, next one will be longer!)

˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡

“Wake up, Princess…”

“Hm? Who is there?”

I smacked my lips together and slowly raised myself from under the covers, hand reaching up to feel how tangled my hair got in my sleep. It was bad.

“Princess, you have to get ready for the day. Your mother desires you downstairs before breakfast is to be served.”

Frowning, I turned to my bedside to see my handmaiden Issla drawing open the curtains, allowing bright sunbeams to pierce my eyes, making it impossible to rest my eyes for a few more minutes, as was usually customary to my morning routine.

I thought it best to listen, her demeanor was usually a lot more calm. I watched her hurried movements, tidying up my drawers, fluffing the pillows on the sofa, pouring water for me to wash my face, and I ran through a list of reasons that today could be so important.

“It tis not my mothers birthday, nor is it a festival day, why is there a hurry to ready this morning?”

Issla eyed me like a hawk. “I do not know, Princess. I was told to make sure you were presentable before thirty past seven, so I would make haste.”

Rolling out of bed, I went through the motions of my familiar routine, all while pondering the reason for today’s excitement. After pulling on a dark green gown, Issla escorted me to the Grand Hall.

“Please let me know if you need anything later, Princess.” I could sense the double meaning in her words. She gripped my hands tightly, and gently released them after giving them a second small squeeze.

Nodding at her, I turned around to enter the Hall. “Khoan. Valsi.” I smiled at the two guards in front of the door. With a push of heavy oak, I was led into the Hall. I spotted my mother, the Queen, sitting on the ornate wooden throne on the other side of the room. Even though the rest of the council was speaking to her, her eyes never left me as I walked towards them. Even turning my gaze downwards, I could still feel her eyes staring holes through me.

“Good morning, my Princess.” The council echoed.

“You are late.”

“Sorry, my Queen, I was unsure what we would be discussing.”

“No reason to keep us waiting.”

“My apologies.”

A beat of silence.

“Anyways, let me continue. As you know, your birthday is coming up in a couple months. After a long deliberation with my trusted council, I have decided it would be in the best interest of the realm to step down as Queen.”

I gasped. “But moth-my Queen, if I may speak freely, that is insanity!”

She smiles mournfully at me. “My child, you of all people should know that I am aging, like all humans before me. You will be turning twenty and five, of the same age as myself when I bore the crown. The realm has entered a golden age. There has been no bloodshed or needless death since my mother wore the crown ages ago. You are ready, my child.”

It is true, I have not had a long look at her in a while. She shows the signs of her age, smile lines and forehead wrinkles adorn her face, and her hair, which used to flow jet black, is now almost solidly white. Despite this, her eyes are just as wise and sharp as they were when I was a child.

“Is this what you called me here to tell me?” I said, my shock overriding my ability to speak formally in front of the court.

“Partially. I was notified by the Grand Council that two Jedi - excuse me, a Jedi and his padawan would be coming to oversee part of your training for the throne.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Since when has it been standard that a Jedi and his padawan train me to bear the crown? Should they not have better things to do? And what do they know of ruling a realm?”

“I too, was surprised that the Grand Council took notice of our happenings. I have been informed that they wish to teach you how to protect yourself, as well as the proceedings of the Senate, which you must attend.”

“I understand, your Grace. But could you not tell them no?”

The Royal Advisor barked out a short laugh.

“If I may interrupt, your Grace…” The Queen nodded.

He turned towards me. “You do not simply tell the Grand Council ‘no.’ They control all the goings-on in the galaxy. Trust me, they do know what is best.”

Accepting defeat, I turned back to my mother. “When do they plan to arrive, my Queen?”

She hit me back with a dazzling smile. “They should be here before breakfast.”

˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡

“What the hell!” I angrily picked at the skin on my fingers, tearing my right thumb to shreds.

“Careful, my Princess, you will bleed all over your dress-” Issla attempts to grab my thumb, but I turn away.

“Why does my mother think I need outside guidance to become the Queen! Her mother never would have dared bring in outsiders to tell her how to rule her kingdom!”

“Please, quiet your voice,” Issla begged.

“No! I can’t believe she let the Grand Council decide her own daughter’s fate.” I turned around once more and set my sights on the dining room, striding forward. “When those Jedi bastards arrive, I’m going to give them some words to choke-”

Not waiting for the guards at the door to let me in, I pushed the wooden handle forward, rushing into the room, Issla on my tail.

“Darling! Please, come meet the Jedi and his padawan.”

I took in a breath. Standing next to the Queen were two men. Both of them tall, and much younger than I was expecting. We never had Jedi on our planet before. Of course, the Queen had told me stories of them when she went to the Senate, but in her stories, she made them sound rather plain; always guarding the galaxy, following what was asked of them, protecting rulers.

The padawan looked more bored than anything. He kept glancing around the table, at the spread of food that was waiting for us. I could tell that his Jedi master was annoyed with him. He kept his eyes on me as I approached, but placed his arm on his padawan's shoulder to redirect his attention. He held my gaze with a firm yet kind smile, one that showed he meant no harm.

“This is my daughter, the Princess.”

They both bowed slightly, the Jedi more so than his padawan.

“I am Obi-Wan Kenobi, and this is my padawan, Anakin Skywalker. My Princess, we look forward to serving you to the best of our abilities.”

I nodded at him, unimpressed. 

“If you wish, we can begin acquainting ourselves and discussing our purpose?” 

The Queen smiled. “Yes! That would be lovely! Let us enjoy breakfast while we talk.”

Anakin seated himself quickly, grabbing at some of the fruit that was closest to him.

“Anakin! I’m sorry, my Grace, my Princess. It seems as though I have neglected to teach him proper manners.” 

The Queen smiles at Obi-Wan. “Not to worry! It has been a long journey. Come, let us eat!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Anakin smirking at Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan frowning back.

Perhaps having to be near Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker would prove a more interesting experience than I had thought.

[666writingcafe]

The Adventure Begins

Levi's overacting. Again. The only reason it wasn't obvious during the school play was because Simeon kept him reined in. Levi gets excited quite easily, and it causes him to get lost in whatever role he's playing.

I'll have to ask Simeon, but I don't think he intended the Lord of Shadow to act so...dramatically? badly? I don't know how to describe it, really. It just isn't very good.

Unlike MC. I'm not sure why I like their acting better, especially since they're currently matching Levi's energy. Maybe it's because they're intentionally hamming it up. They did mumble an apology to me before they started talking to him, after all, so they must know that Levi's acting isn't the best.

Satan's isn't much better, either. He's not as over-the-top as Levi, but I don't find him convincing as the "villain" of this story. If anything, he'd make a good anti-hero, but Solomon probably didn't want to make things too complicated.

Solomon's not a very good author.

However, I'm choosing to keep all this to myself, because the point of all this is to help MC get their first star. Lucifer, on the other hand, is having a hard time suspending his disbelief. So, I understand why MC told him to shut up. I just hope they're prepared to get their ass handed to them once Lucifer's back to normal size, because while he has a soft spot for MC, he doesn't like being silenced. Messes with his pride.

Speaking of which...the stars.

They represent the seven virtues, which are direct opposites of our sins. For me, that virtue is temperance. Solomon probably knows this, but he may not realize the full extent of my relationship with temperance.

Once upon a time, I was able to control myself and my urges. Until I wasn't. For my brothers, their sin was triggered by specific events; that wasn't the case for me. It just...happened. And I didn't realize it until it was too late.

Now, it's what most people know me for. They think I'm a meathead that only thinks about food. Even my brothers.

Which isn't fair.

Why are they allowed to have complex personalities, but not me? Why can they participate in mentally stimulating activities, while I'm cast off to the side and dismissed as too dumb to understand any of it? It's never made sense to me.

I think that's part of why I like MC so much. They're the first person in a really, really long time that sees me beyond my sin. They actually listen to what I have to say and seem to value my opinion, even if it's not related to food or sports.

Yet somehow, deep inside, I don't fully trust them. I think it's coming from my subconscious. Somewhere in there lives a hurt angel that feels like everyone he cares about will die and leave him behind. And in a way, it's true.

Lilith may have been the only person in our little family that actually lost their life, but my brothers barely resemble what they were in the Celestial Realm. It's weird. They wear the same faces, but they're completely different people. Sometimes, I feel like they're complete strangers, or perhaps taken over by aliens.

Oddly, the one person I can rely on to stay the same is Satan. Then again, he didn't have his own form until we arrived in the Devildom, so this version of him is all I've ever known.

"Beel?"

Shit.

I missed a lot, didn't I?

"Are you okay? You seem out of it."

"I could say the same to you." Why is that the first thing that comes out of my mouth? I sound like a jerk.

MC merely sighs as they sit next to me on the...bed? I take a proper look at my surroundings and realize that we're in a hotel room of some kind. Lucifer appears to be sleeping on the nightstand, using tissues as both pillow and blanket.

"Wanna go first, or shall I?" Interesting question. They don't seem upset at me.

"Your call." MC rests their head on my shoulder.

"Simeon needs my help making an important decision." Their tone indicates something serious.

"With what?" MC sighs again.

"His future." Huh? Why would an angel need a human's help with that? I know that the two of them are fairly close, but still.

"But that's neither here nor there," they quickly add, sighing. "It's not like I can do anything about it now." They glance up at me. "What's on your mind?"

"My past."

"As an angel?" I nod.

"Back then, the only thing that mattered to people was that I was strong. I wanted to be useful, so I decided to become a soldier and fight for the Celestial Realm. Problem was, I had trouble controlling my powers."

"Like I did before receiving the Ring?"

"You know, I hadn't really thought about it until you said it, but yeah. I suppose we have that in common. In your case, everyone had your back, which is good, because I wouldn't have wanted you to go through that experience the way I did." MC sits up and properly looks at me.

"What do you mean?"

"Every time I would destroy something--even though most of the time it was a complete accident--Raphael would make some sort of sarcastic remark about it. I think he started calling me the Hulk at one point, but it was meant as an insult." I pause.

"At least he had the decency to do it to my face. Lots of angels would talk shit about me behind my back. They thought I was too stupid to pick up on it, but I knew. They acted overly sweet towards me whenever I would walk in the room. Condescending, even. It was like I was a dumb kid to them." MC places a hand on my thigh and pats it.

"Sounds depressing," they remark.

"It was. Oddly enough, the one person in authority that didn't treat me that way was Lucifer. I initially thought he was too busy with his duties to really care about much else, but then one day he approached me and started talking to me. We had a legitimate conversation."

"About?"

"He told me to keep in mind that being a Celestial Realm soldier wasn't about attacking--"

"--but protecting." We must have woken Lucifer up. "You had the power to protect everyone--to keep them safe--and that you shouldn't feel bad because you were special. If you learned to control your powers, I'd recommend you to the cherubim and have you serve as a Celestial Realm gatekeeper. You did, and so I kept my promise." Lucifer beckons MC to pick him up and bring him closer to me.

"MC and I may be connected by the Ring of Light, but the two of you have a strong connection as well," he continues. "You're both motivated by the need to protect the ones you love, even if it means sacrificing yourself in the process. Drawing on that similarity is going to be the key to pass Solomon's test."

"Are you saying Solomon knew we had that in common?" MC asks incredulously.

"No. I did. I simply passed the knowledge along to him."

"How long--"

"The rooftop."

"Of Dogi Magi?" I'm glad MC understands what he's referring to, because I'm completely lost. Must have been something I wasn't involved with.

"You knew that Belphie would hurt you if you went against his order to reject me, but you did it anyway."

"I didn't want to lie to you."

"Because that would have meant hurting his feelings." Asmo may have used his powers to pick up on Lucifer's crush on MC early on, but I knew pretty much from the moment they set eyes on each other. Granted, he was more attracted to their soul initially, but who could blame him? It was bright and shiny, even back then. If we weren't under orders to not eat them, then they wouldn't have made it out of the assembly hall alive. Even Diavolo was struggling to contain himself.

Anyway, the point is MC cared enough about Lucifer in that moment to feel the need to protect him.

Just like I felt the need to protect Lucifer after I became a cherub.

MC's going to get their star.

[leonawriter]

One of my favourite ideas with regards to Ryoji is this sort of... thing where he can just exist outside of time somehow, because of how short a time he's allowed to exist in reality.

(massive spoilers for P3 onward past this point, obviously, if you haven't already gone through the game.)

[EDIT: I've cleaned it up a bit and edited and put it on AO3. So, if you want like... an entire extra scene plus some, go here.]

Which is great in theory, but a bit more complicated if you wanna put it into practice, other than going "well, he's here because... oh, a wizard did it." There are possibilities and plausibles, but they're frankly limited if you have (like me) a logical mind and a need for something to suspend your disbelief.

Except then I had a thought - Ryoji is also known as Death, or Thanatos. He takes on that role at the climax, even. So, I started thinking along those lines, and wound up with-

Ryoji the psychopomp. Ryoji, the grim reaper.

Not "the Reaper" as in the one that roams dungeons (he exists during P3 and is implied by design to be connected somehow to Tatsuya Sudou, anyway).

More like, that it's a case of "Life gave her creations to Death, no matter what they both knew would happen the moment he touched them."

Minato (or Kotone) dies on the school rooftop, and there he is, able to talk to them, and they're able to tell him that everything worked out, that everything will work out. Their spirit lingers at the Door, and they talk like it's passing notes in class.

A young girl finds herself on the receiving end of unwanted advances, and then she's somewhere strange, confronted with uncomfortable and unwanted truths, and then- then, there's a boy in a yellow scarf wanting to know all of the things that she loved about her life. At first it's strange, and more than a bit hard to think of things for this weird guy who she's never met before, but the more she talks the more she realises that she really did have things she treasured.

He thanks her for telling him, and as she makes her peace with the fact that this is it, he tells her that he'll keep them in his heart now, too.

Wakaba Isshikki knows about the cognitive realm - a little too much, perhaps, but not enough to stop. Enough, perhaps, to see the shadow of a boy following her for a day or two. Enough to feel as though she's already living on borrowed time, when she feels that surely she knows what's happening, and she simply... doesn't care.

She's a little wispy, still, when he leads what's left of her toward the Sea of Souls where she now belongs. He's concerned, and rightly so, about what that means. Wakaba's more worried about the kids.

(A few people don't get Ryoji. Those unhappy few get the floating mask of Death and a series of coffins to tell them that their time has come. For some it's because even in death they have no humility, and for others still it's simply easier, that way. Easier to not be Ryoji wile dealing with it, even if it would have been easier still to simply walk away and let them find their own way to the Sea.

But Kunikazu Okumura had sent so many his way, that it was only right that Death came to meet him personally.

"I didn't even get to finish my speech," the man said, blubbering after the towering figure that Death made.

You had a daughter, Death reminded him, and he was silent the rest of the way.)

Goro Akechi comes to, and the first thing he sees is a bright yellow scarf.

The first thing he does is swear, because boys with slicked-back hair wearing yellow scarves aren't supposed to exist when you're dead. The second thing he does is look around, and realise that you aren't really supposed to exist in a sea of stars and sit on nothing when you're alive, either.

"Please tell me this isn't the afterlife," he says, mostly because although he figured it could be worse - he could have found himself in hell, or surrounded by all of the people he'd killed over the years, all of the ones who had every reason to make his afterlife hell if it wasn't already - it could definitely be better.

"It is and it isn't," comes the cryptic answer. "Usually it is, more or less. Each of those lights represents a soul, after all." And there were so many of them. "But you're a special case! You're both dead and not dead right now, which, usually that doesn't happen? People can almost die but not actually die, but they aren't usually both at the same time, I mean."

"Maruki," Akechi practically spits out. "In that case, I'm surprised you're not inundated right now."

Blue eyes - far too blue to be human, they almost remind him of Morgana, and he was neither human nor a cat, apparently - duck down, glancing away.

"I felt what happened. Everyone caught up in a lie, completely oblivious... if the one controlling that power had wanted to bring ruin, then..." But he shakes his head, bringing himself out of his own thoughts. "It's a good thing that didn't happen, really! And- you're wrong, by the way."

"What?"

"Like I said, you're a special case. I've been able to talk to a lot of people, but I've never been able to ask anyone to send a message back before!"

"Back?" For a moment, Akechi is reduced to parroting back words. Surely they mean something, but the obvious meaning is impossible, and he can't think of anything else. "Who would someone like you even want to send a message to, anyway?"

"Would you believe me if I said they were old enemies, who were also old friends? But, I guess you've had a few of those yourself, right?"

"What would you even know about me?"

Akechi got a lopsided, bittersweet smile in return.

"I've been following you for a lot longer than I think we'd both have liked," come the words that send a shiver down his spine as instincts and senses that were rusty from disuse told him what that meant even as his more conscious mind shied away from the idea of it. "But I hope that after this, we won't be able to talk again for a long, long time."

Something tells Akechi that he's both in no danger whatsoever, and also that he really shouldn't refuse. He expects to be on a strict deadline (ha, dead) but time moves differently here, and apparently they have exactly as much time as they need. No more, and not a second less.

When he opens his eyes again, he can remember everything-

Someone really wanted you to live, Ryoji had said, with a teasing smile, and bright eyes.

It makes him feel small. It makes him feel indebted - to Akira, to Ryoji, in ways that he can't even begin to examine or think of how to repay. It makes him want to give it all back, so that he doesn't have to deal with it, but that would be purely theoretical and besides, he has promises to keep.

First, a debt to Akira, something that to Akechi feels like barely a drop in the ocean and that hopefully Akira and his friends will feel the correct amount of gratitude for.

Secondly-

"Hello- yes, this is Goro Akechi speaking. Is this Mitsuru Kirijo-san? I have a message to pass on to you. Are the names Ryoji Mochizuki and Minato Arisato familiar to you, at all?"

[1960z]

even all these years later, my biggest criticism of case 4-4 is still the mason system. and look there’s a lot of stuff in ace attorney that stretches into the realm of impossibility and asks you to suspend your disbelief so part of me feels silly to get caught up in this one example of it. but with that being said I feel that most of the other examples of zany elements, (channeling, bracelets parrot cross examinations etc.) still ran on their own internal logic and felt reasonably justified within the context of the narrative meanwhile the mason system just… doesn’t.

it’s always left very vague about what it is and how it works but is seemingly responsible for this weird dues ex machina time travel element where phoenix suddenly has access to information in 2019 that we wouldn’t see him learn until 2026. and that’s not even getting into the implications that the jurists are witnessing all of this too and taking it in as if it’s all fact. like it seems weird to me to put phoenix on this whole “forged evidence” arc then show civilians seemingly impossible evidence, being like “well? whaddya think?” and it just being accepted without question.

it’s an interesting gameplay loop I’ll give them that, it does make what would otherwise be a regular investigation day feel more weighty and exciting and getting to do most of the deduction in an investigation portion rather than a trial is a nice change of pace. but idk, narratively, I don’t think it’s very good and I imagine there would probably be ways to achieve the same game feel without doing all this

[familiariscanis]

i don't care if bsd is believable. i don't care if the plot twists make sense, because honestly they never really have made much sense and they don't necessarily need to. bsd tends to be kind of ridiculous and a lot of times that's what makes it fun and endearing. i am perfectly willing to suspend my disbelief for this show.

i do care if bsd is rewarding tho, and i don't feel like this was a particularly rewarding season finale as far as dazai's character goes. another dazai ex machina ending to a season isn't the problem here for me; it's the doubt that resolution is retroactively casting on everything dazai has done and said in the last arc. it makes the sincerity of everything he said suspect. it makes me wonder if he was ever really in danger. how much dazai knew, how assured he was of his victory isn't entirely clear, but that doesn't really matter. what matters is that enough of the conflict in the mersault arc was shown to be not real, and that puts everything in a different light. it makes any vulnerability or weakness dazai showed during the arc seem inconsequential, and it makes it feel less genuine dazai's speech to chuuya when he was "drowning" chuuya was interesting when the chapter released because it had so many character and relationship implications. dazai, pragmatic and logical as he is, being capable of killing chuuya if he had to but not incapable of feeling nothing about it. it made you wonder if perhaps dazai might be doing something he'd regret, if he'd realize only once it's too late the true consequences of his actions. dazai saying for years that he wants to kill chuuya and genuinely believing that he wants him dead, only to realize once he's succeeded at that that his life is missing something without chuuya there to irritate him... that's interesting! that's opening up a whole world of possibilities for dazai's character and their relationship. even if chuuya survives, dazai still may be faced with the realization that hey, he doesn't want chuuya dead. it forces him to really reckon with the magnitude of importance chuuya has in his life, which, for all of their unspoken trust, may be something dazai has taken for granted. it might make him re-examine his feelings or himself. it might change the dynamic between them.

now that there's the possibility of it being pre-planned, that speech loses it's weight— and the character implications of it are somewhat lost. of course, there is the possibility that dazai didn't know at the time, that he only figured it out at some point during the events of the game. it's certainly open to interpretation and it's definitely interesting to interpret it that he didn't know at the time, but it's an equally valid interpretation that dazai knew all along, so it shifts the exploration of dazai's character and his feelings for chuuya from the realm of canon to fanon.

but the way that the vampire fake-out plot twist is presented does strip some of the possibility for vulnerability from dazai's words. it casts enough doubt on it to make it plausible that he was just fucking around, that it doesn't really mean anything. it keeps dazai in a secure place of superiority in the narrative and makes him immune to normal character flaws and weaknesses. dazai, as a person, is supposed to be learning to trust and he wins because of that trust, but it's falling flat for dazai as a character (for me, at least) because we don't believe there was ever really a risk that he'd fall. as the audinece, we can see asagiri setting up a safety net and it negates the impact of the trust fall that dazai is supposedly doing. basically this plot twist is the emotional equivalent to seeing a video of someone jumping off a ledge and then the camera zooms out and you realize what you thought was a 30 foot drop is actually only about 3 feet. and not only is it not rewarding, but it makes me feel like i was silly for being worried in the first place.

[yopapiishere]

01. Reborn

Just Breathe: Modern Warfare II x Reader

Holy hell, first time committing to a fic, bit of an explanation.

You died and have been “reincarnated” in the world MWII, your age is nineteen and the boys are the same age as they are in the game. haven’t decided if this is going to be a heavy X reader with characters yet. Lmk if you want spice.

Word count: 2,919

I do not give permission for anyone to repost anywhere.

Warnings: Mention of death, swearing.

(Y/n) POV

My body sinks into the soft grass, and a gentle shiver runs through me as I make contact with the ground. The blades of grass seem to enwrap me, creating a cocoon of comfort. Despite the initial shock, a soothing numbness spreads, allowing me to focus on each steady breath.

Did I just fall from the sky? My body feels oddly numb, as though I've finished a marathon and crossed the finish line. Gently gasping for air, it's as if each breath is a reminder of life's vitality. A curious sensation lingers, almost as if I'm suspended in water, a symphony of bubbles replacing words as I attempt to speak.

Something incredible unfolded. I recall being in my car driving on a bridge, a memory that's vivid yet dreamlike. I don’t think I could survive that. It's hard to fathom. Now, here I am, grappling with the reality of this moment. This can't be the afterlife, it's far too tangible, too vibrant. Every pulse of life seems to reaffirm that I'm truly here.

Amidst my confusion, a haunting thought creeps in—the possibility of reincarnation. The idea that life's end might not truly be an end, but rather a transition into another existence, adds a layer of melancholy to my disbelief. Could this be why I find myself here, a mere echo of who I once was? If such a cycle exists, the notion that my actions from a past life dictate my present circumstances is both eerie and sorrowful, casting a somber shadow over my thoughts.

The enormity of the situation hits hard. I'm aware that I died—my body, my senses, they all confirm it. The memory of water rushing in, the coldness, the seatbelt that was supposed to safeguard me now feels like a cruel restraint. It's as if these sensations etched themselves into my very being. The concept of karma hangs heavy, and a flurry of questions swirls through my mind, each one laden with its own weight and uncertainty.

Reincarnation often conjures images of beginning afresh as a newborn, with past memories wiped clean. However, your experience diverges from this norm, for you still retain your sense of self and are barely past the age of eighteen. This could imply that your rebirth has occurred with a distinct twist. Alternatively, there's a fascinating possibility that you've found yourself in an entirely different realm altogether, one that permits continuity of self. Unraveling the intricacies of your circumstance might shed light on whether it's your familiar world or an uncharted territory you're now inhabiting.

Raising my head from the soft grass, a thought crossed my mind: the possibility of encountering a tick. With a wry smile, I shook off the notion, letting my body sit up. As I did, the surroundings unfolded before me, revealing a clearer perspective of where I had found myself.

The azure skies stretched out above, devoid of any human presence. However, my gaze was drawn to the majestic mountains that dominated the landscape before me. The sheer size and grandeur of these peaks captured my attention. Growing up in northern Wisconsin, I knew the land well, and it struck me that these imposing mountains were a far cry from anything I'd ever seen there. The incongruity of the scene left me bewildered, a strange mix of familiarity and alienness.

I covered my ears as a loud engine noise filled the air. Looking up, I realized it was a military plane flying over me. It took a moment to register the significance of the sight.

"Where the fuck am I?" I blurted out loud. The whole situation left me baffled and disoriented, the recent memory of my death still fresh. The plane's sudden presence added to my unease, making me feel as if I were under some sort of personal assault.

Ghosts POV.

I found myself standing in the briefing room, my gaze fixed on Laswell as she addressed the team. There was a familiar expression on her face, a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty that I'd seen before during complicated situations. Just as Soap entered the room, Laswell cleared her throat and opened her black military laptop, ready to begin her talk.

"Your mission is to bring this girl back," Laswell declared, projecting a somewhat blurry photo of a girl standing in a field onto the screen. Despite the lack of detail in the image, I scrutinized it, trying to absorb every bit of information I could. The picture didn't provide much, mostly capturing what she was wearing.

"Why's she important?" Gaz asked, squinting at the picture and clearly not seeing much to go on.

"The military wants to reach her before anyone else does—other military folks, like potential enemies," Laswell explained, her voice tinged with weariness as she rubbed her forehead. A brief pause hung in the air before she carried on.

"Here's where it gets weird. I've pored over the footage repeatedly, and there's no logical explanation for what we're seeing. The government wants to keep this operation completely off the books," Laswell elaborated, her arms crossed as she heaved a deep sigh. She carried on speaking to us, the weight of the situation evident in her demeanor.

"Take a look for yourselves," she directed, opening a file that revealed an unfamiliar location—mountains and a small field of grass.

"What's our focus here?" Soap inquired, leaning in to examine the image closely, his forehead creasing with puzzlement.

In a blink, a light descended from above. My heart seemed to pause as a girl materialized from the clouds, descending gracefully to the ground. The wind whipped around her with a ferocity that seemed surreal. Her form, captured in a pixelated video, appeared serene as if she were in slumber. Just as she landed, the video abruptly cut off.

A hush fell over the room, thick with astonishment.

"What the hell?" Soap exclaimed, his voice shattering the stillness as he strode over to the laptop and hit replay on the video. He turned back to Laswell, a mix of disbelief and urgency in his eyes. "Is this legit?" he questioned, his gaze fixed on her as the video played once more.

"Seriously, how the bloody hell is this even feasible?" Price questioned, stepping forward with a mix of astonishment and concern.

Laswell cleared her throat, refocusing the room's attention on her.

"We're in the dark here. Multiple experts have analyzed the footage, and no one can provide an explanation. This is an unprecedented anomaly, and that girl," she gestured toward the video of the girl's graceful descent, "poses a potential threat. We need information on her urgently. Bring her back, and we'll extract the answers we need." Her arms remained tightly crossed, underscoring the gravity of the situation.

"Maybe she's an alien?" Gaz pondered, his eyes locked on the video.

"It's not our concern. We follow orders," I interjected, catching Gaz's eye and receiving a confirming nod.

"Laswell, regardless of her origins, she's unlike anything we've seen here. She might not even be from this planet. The potential danger she poses is significant," Price added, his gaze fixed on the video.

"That's why Graves and his team are being dispatched as backup. The location in the video is Greece. As far as we're aware, she's still there," Laswell explained, rising to her feet and shutting her laptop.

"Once any of you establish contact, send traffic. I'll be on standby," she concluded before departing.

………..

"Where the hell am I?" I muttered aloud, even though I knew there was no one around to hear.

I stumbled across the field, my gaze fixed on the distant mountains and the cluster of trees ahead. Maybe there was some direction to be found there.

"Could this be hell?" I mused to myself as I continued walking, my steps faltering. I caught sight of a butterfly gracefully landing on a flower.

"Or not," I sighed, rolling my eyes at the thought.

As the sun began to dip beneath the horizon, panic surged within me, quickening my heart rate.

"I've got to find shelter fast. There's no way I can survive out here without protection," I muttered, scanning my surroundings desperately for any sign of a building. Unfortunately, luck wasn't on my side. It took a good 20 minutes to traverse the field and reach the edge of the forest.

With cautious determination, I took my first step into the forest, uncertain of what lay ahead.

Stepping carefully through the forest, I was met with the soothing sound of rushing water. A river, perhaps? I pondered, my instincts leading me toward the source of the sound. The sky was progressively dimming, urging me to move with greater urgency.

"Someone's bound to be nearby, right? Where there's water, there's civilization," I muttered aloud, tracing the water's path as I went, mindful not to get too close—it was proximity to water that ended my life.

"Damn you, water," I grumbled, frustration creeping into my voice as I delivered a swift kick to the river's flowing edge.

Minutes slipped away, and the encroaching darkness only intensified my sense of urgency. My strides quickened, driven by the need to find civilization before the cover of night settled in. The thought of being stranded out here with potentially dangerous animals was chilling. I found myself hoping for the safety of water rather than the threat of becoming prey. After fifteen minutes of walking, I stumbled upon an old, abandoned shack. With a mixture of relief and resignation, I realized this would have to suffice as shelter for the night.

Shivers ran down my spine, and doubt gripped me. Did I even know how to build a fire? My fingers explored my pockets, retrieving my phone, which frustratingly refused to turn on. A red gas station lighter emerged next, its significance hitting me with a pang—my brother had given it to me. The realization that I'd never see him again struck hard.

I collected whatever dry sticks and leaves I could find, forming a small pile. Taking a deep breath, I muttered to myself, "Here goes nothing." With a flick, the lighter sprang to life, casting a spark that brought a smile to my face.

Relief washed over me, and with newfound determination, I continued my efforts to build a much-needed fire for the night ahead.

……..

"Gotta stay focused, Cap," Gaz reminded himself from a considerable distance, nearly 800 meters away. He was hidden behind a rock, expertly camouflaged in gear, his sniper rifle trained on the target. He waited patiently, eyes never straying from his objective.

"Keep her in your sights. Laswell wants her unharmed," Price's voice crackled through the communication device. He wasn't too far away from the scene.

"She wasn't exactly playing hide and seek," Soap's voice came quietly, his form hidden behind a tree. He was dressed in civilian clothing, part of the plan to approach her and extract information.

"Damn it, Johnny, move in quietly. Wait for three," Ghost's voice conveyed irritation as he stood on the sidelines.

"Understood, L.T.," Johnny replied over the comms, his steps measured as he advanced toward the girl. The gravel underfoot crunched, and she abruptly stood up, pivoting around to face him.

…She looks human.

…

The sound of footsteps in the night was hardly unexpected. Instantly, I stood, my hand tightening around the window breaker I kept in my pocket.

"Who are you?" I questioned, eyes fixed on the man with the mohawk, who raised his hands in a gesture of nonthreat.

"Not here to harm you, sweetheart. Just making my way," he assured as he drew nearer. I shot him a skeptical glare, my unease growing.

"A guy wandering through the woods? Doesn't sound all that normal," I remarked, my lips thinning into a firm line.

He responded with a chuckle. "Observant, aren't you?" he remarked, taking another step forward. My grip on the window breaker tightened, but I quickly realized the odds were not in my favor. He was larger and well-built. Is he Scottish?

"You might want to ease up on that weapon," he suggested as he halted a few feet away.

I stumbled back, caught off guard. How did he...

"I'm completely unarmed. Go ahead, search me," he offered, raising his arms to emphasize his point.

"I'm not laying a finger on you. No telling where you've been," I retorted, raising an eyebrow. His smile faded as my words hit home.

"What's your purpose here?" I questioned, meeting his gaze as he lowered his hands.

"Listen, I saw you... fall," he said, his eyes focused on me, just a few steps away. "I just want some answers and then I'll be out of your way."

"You're not going to believe me—"

"I watched you fall from the sky. At this point, I'm ready for anything," he interrupted, a wry comment that left me frowning.

A heavy silence hung between us for a few moments.

"Can you promise you won't harm me?" I questioned, my uncertainty evident as I gripped my arm.

He paused, his gaze meeting mine before he nodded in response.

Sitting back down on the gravel, I directed my gaze to the fire. He followed suit, settling across the fire from me.

"How old are you?" he asked, his eyes on me. I didn't bother to meet his gaze as I replied.

"Nineteen," I responded, meeting his gaze as his blue eyes locked onto mine.

"Are you an alien?" he inquired next, causing me to burst into laughter.

"Seriously? Do I look like an alien to you?" I asked, my hand covering my mouth. He smiled in response. "Honestly, when I saw you falling from the sky, I couldn't help but wonder," he admitted, rubbing his stubbled chin.

"No, I'm human," I assured, my attention returning to the fire.

"Have any idea why you fell... from the sky, I mean?" he queried, grabbing a stick and idly poking at the fire.

"I think I died," I admitted, my gaze hard on the fire.

"Died? You mean..." he trailed off.

"Yes, died. I remember driving in my car, the road was icy. I lost control, went over a bridge, and plunged into the water," I said, hugging myself as I recalled the terrifying memory.

He remained quiet for a moment. "So, why are you here?" he asked.

"Reincarnation, maybe?" I mused, looking up at him.

"But isn't reincarnation supposed to be starting fresh, no memories, a completely new slate?" he queried, skepticism in his voice. I sighed, my gaze locking onto his.

"I've only retained what I remember from my death," I explained, shaking my head slightly.

As another engine roared above us, I didn't bother looking up this time.

Suddenly, a rustling came from the forest, snapping my attention in that direction. My eyes met those of a person in a skull mask, armed with a rifle.

Is that the Grim Reaper?!

The masked man must have noticed my gaze and attempted to draw my attention back to him.

"What's your name?" he inquired, and I pretended not to notice the figure in the forest. My heart raced.

"(Y/n)," I replied, looking up at him. There was something off about this guy, and my instincts told me he wasn't safe.

"You can call me Soap," he introduced.

"Soap?" I repeated, a nervous smile playing at my lips.

"It's a nickname," Soap explained casually, prodding the fire and sending sparks into the serene night.

"Why's there a gun pointed at me, Soap?" I questioned, locking eyes with the masked man. He froze, tension in the air.

I rose to my feet, my grip tightening around the window breaker as I exposed the blade's sharp edge.

"Kid, listen," Soap began, standing as well, "it's just a precaution." He reached into his pocket, retrieving a syringe.

I shook my head, my heart racing as I crouched near the fire. "I'm not a threat," I whispered, the rush of blood in my ears drowning out my surroundings.

"Look, it won't hurt much. Don't fight it," he urged, making his way around the fire. Each crunch of rocks under his boots resonated in my ears, my heart pounding louder.

Shaking my head, I looked up at him, my eyes pleading for understanding.

"Forgive me," I muttered, and he shot me a puzzled look. His head tilted as he observed me.

Without a moment's hesitation, I seized a burning log and directed it towards his stomach.

Goodbye, soft hands. Hello burnt hands.

"Fuck!" he howled, attempting to pat out the burn, while I bolted in the opposite direction.

"Do not shoot! She's not dangerous!" Soap shouted, his voice carrying after me as he pursued.

My thoughts raced frantically as his footsteps pounded closer. Why did I have to wear Converse? The frantic sound of my own footsteps mixed with the thudding of his.

I screamed as his arms encircled my waist, hoisting me into the air.

"Sorry, kid, just precaution, yeah?" he remarked, wrenching my head to the side and plunging the syringe into my neck.

"Fuck... yourself... fucking bitch..." I mumbled as my legs grew weak, my mind slipping into darkness.

...

"Soap," Ghost's voice echoed as he approached, kicking out the fire.

"Lieutenant, another successful capture?" Soap motioned toward the girl slumbering in his arms.

"Laswell's waiting at the base. Let's move," Ghost ordered, scrutinizing the girl more closely.

"Price, heading back to base, target secured," Soap reported over the comms.

“Gaz, let’s get moving.”

“Copy.”

[angel-eyes05]

i remember his hands - preview

PAIRING: kang the conqueror x fem!reader

SUMMARY: after a scientific experiment goes horribly wrong, you've been transported to the quantum realm and have been stuck there for the past decade. with no company, aside from janet van dyne, your life changes forever when a mysterious man in a golden ship crash lands next to your settlement. startled with his initial presence, you two have a rocky start. but as time goes on, you two find each other slowly drawn to one another. you have secrets though, and he has a past he refuses to bring up. can you two make it through navigating an unknown world together, discovering any ulterior motives, and stand the test of time in a place where time has no meaning at all?

INFO: slow romantic burn, pretty fast sexual burn, kinda enemies to lovers????, takes place during that little flashback janet has during quantumania, idk how accurate this is gonna be to canon stuff cause i get very confused about the quantum realm lol, reader is in mid to late 20s while kang is in his “early 30s” (ik he like technically doesn't age or whatever idk the lore but i just made it accurate to jonathan majors age and wanted to give an accurate age range/gap/count), y/k is very fleshed out like i give her everything lol

WARNING: implied su!c!dal thoughts

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 570

NOTES: hi there!!!! did i make an account just so i could post this? yes, yes i did, and what about it. I was looking for quantumania!kang fics and turns out, theres like 3-4!! so i was like, hey why not. please don't judge my writing cause this is the first fic i’ve written…like ever lol. also, please suspend your disbelief for this, like don’t question why they have working appliances or whatever or that i made up names for the monsters or something, cause 1) idk how to explain that stuff and 2) that's not the main focus sooooo yeah. but, nonetheless, i hope you guys enjoy, if anyone even reads this at all even though this is mainly for my sake lol.

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

It’s been ten years. Ten years since it all went wrong and you landed in this wretched place. Ten years since you’ve had a decent meal and been able to sleep soundly without having to worry about the creatures of the quantum realm getting you in the night. It got slightly better around seven years ago when you found Janet Van Dyne, someone who had experience in navigating this strange world. About 30 years of experience in fact. The thought of you being down here for that long made you nauseous. 

Every day was the same. Wake up, check the settlement perimeter, help Janet with breakfast, hunt surrounding mites, occasionally go into town to trade for parts, eat dinner, then go to bed. Thank god Janet was there or else you might’ve gone insane by now. All this repetition was not your style at all.

You missed life up above. You missed going out with your friends. You missed running into people at the grocery store you haven’t seen since elementary school. You missed your yearly trip to New York during Christmas and seeing everything so festive. It sounds pretentious but it was the truth.

But what you missed most of all was San Francisco. It sounds stupid but you loved it there more than anything. You loved how the flowers would bloom during the springtime. You missed feeling the wind through your hair, as aggressive as it would be at times. You missed going to the beaches. Being in the cool water, feeling the sand in between your fingers and toes, being kissed by the sun. God, you missed the sun. Everything was so dark down here. So…hopeless. Thank god Janet was there or you might’ve…

There wasn’t any point in thinking like that anymore. You had accepted life the way it was. It wasn’t like you had a solid plan for making it back home anyways. As much as you did miss it, it wasn’t like the power of hope, love, and friendship would make a quantum tunnel appear out of thin air. Even if you could find someone selling the necessary pieces to power the tunnel, they would probably be listing it at way too high of a price for you to apprehend it. So for now, and probably for the rest of your life (however long of that left you had, time was strange down here), all the good you can do is try to protect yourself, keep Janet company, and stare at the stars, or whatever you wanted to call them. 

That's exactly what you decided to do before heading off to bed. After checking the surroundings of the settlement for mites, you sat next to the closest thing you could call a creek and just stared up at the engulfing darkness. The tranquility this activity brought you allowed you to sleep soundlessly, without an unknown creature coming out of the shadows to attack you. While staring up at the twinkling lights, you see one of them in the distance that appears to be moving closer to you. As it gets closer, you can make it out as a circular, golden ship. It crash lands about 300 feet away, causing the earth around you to shake. Curiosity takes over you as you decide to start heading over to the crash sight, unaware about how much the repetition of your life you always complained about was about to dissolve.

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

NEXT PART

A/N: hiiiiii, so that was the quick little preview, i hope you liked it. i’m gonna be honest im very nervous about posting this lol 😭. but i hope you enjoyed it. chapter 1 should come out shortly after i post this so i hope you’ll stick around for the rest of the series!!!

[henrysglock]

Mothergate: Time For Some More Horrifying Science Facts

Because all love my horrible science facts <3

We’ve discussed the history of uterine transplants, and pinned down that it’s 100% possible with zero suspension of disbelief. Uterine transplants were attempted in 1931 most notably with Lili Elbe, who died of immune complications, not complications of the surgery. The first successful kidney transplant, however, happened in 1954, which puts us perfectly in the realm of reality (again, without any suspension of disbelief).

However, something that had been stumping me for a bit was the fact that egg freezing and IVF didn’t really show up in the medical community until the ‘80s. So, I decided to look a little deeper into the history of the subjects. Here’s what I found.

IVF:

Though the first successful human IVF procedure happened in 1978 with the birth of Louise Brown, experimentation with IVF dates back to the mid 1930s.

(x)

However, there was success in rabbits in 1959.

This has been confirmed by multiple sources (x)

Rabbits. 1959.

(and in Brenner’s Encyclopedia of Genetics, no less 💀)

Here’s why I care more about early success in animals than I do about the first successful human cases:

1. Brenner has no code of ethics, which is integral to the medical community at large. That’s why procedures takes so long to get put into practice. Brenner’s whole thing is no-ethics fringe science. He cares about what is possible, not what’s right or safe.

2. Henward directly refers to both himself and El as being “animals” in Brenner’s eyes. Thus, animal trials are on the board.

3. The rabbit scene, 1959.

Not just the fact that it’s a trapped rabbit in 1959 associated with Henward, but that Virginia (removed/from a distance) and Alice (directly) are associated with that particular rabbit.

In fact, the gutted rabbit is most heavily associated with Alice, which feels like a tie to Mother Alice being described as being cut open in the Indianapolis Gazette (she was compared to a deer, but the “torn open” part remains the same).

So organ/uterine transplants and IVF? ✅ In the realm of possibility both in reality and within the bounds of Stranger Things.

SEX CELL FREEZING:

Sex cell freezing began in 1949 with the discovery of glycerol as a cryoprotectant. In 1950, scientists began freezing various sperm samples and found success in the process. Egg freezing, however, wasn’t successful until 1972, when Whittingham/Leibo/Mazur perfected the slow-freeze method in mouse eggs.

Now you might be going “but James, that means it can’t have happened back in 1959, and that dismantles your whole theory”…Not necessarily.

Bear with me for a second. We’re talking about Hawkins National Lab, a lab on a TV show about a fictional town with kids who have superpowers. We’re talking about the lab that developed NINA, the lab that developed Soteria. 1972 is just 13 years after Henward was stolen. That’s when it happened in real life. We’re in a fictional universe. IVF and egg preservation were dreamed up by Huxley in 1934 with the release of A Brave New World. Suspend your disbelief for a moment.

Could it happen? Abso-fucking-lutely.

Hell, Henward directly equates both himself and El with lab rats in Brenner’s eyes:

Rats -> Mice? Same difference.

All this to say…the science of it?

Henward’s monologue also uses scientific terminology associated with breeding programs:

In which backcrossing with parents is a common practice:

As is performance testing of offspring to determine the best new reproductive candidates.

Paired with the in-universe references…This is all within the realm of possibility.

[zoeywades-spouse]

You make a lot of good points there.

Something like TNA has very obvious gender coding errors, most notably when Paolo talks about how he's marrying Sofia to Sam because he wants her to be a wife and mother and he thinks women shouldn't be in the business world. Yet he's marrying Sofia to a female CEO? There's no amount of mental gymnastics you can do to make that work. And to add salt to the wound are other smaller errors like f!Sam saying the kids have been "without a mother figure" or that time when the kids called f!Sam "Dad".

On the other hand, I think a good example of male-coding that's a little more implicit is Reagan in Surrender. For the most part it probably is a bit easier to suspend any disbelief with female Reagan's writing and behavior. But when you see them say shit like "When a woman agrees to be my sub, she agrees to obey" it feels weird from the female version.

Granted that line has no place in this story regardless of Reagan's gender, but it feels like something that only a misogynistic abusive guy would say. It'd be one thing if they said "when you agree to be my sub you agree to obey" or "when someone agrees to be my sub they agree to obey", but to specify woman in it (even in the possible context that Reagan is into women only regardless of gender) adds a hint of misogyny to it that... doesn't feel right coming from a sapphic woman.

Similarly with Kit from Untameable. Their behavior for the most part felt gender neutral to me, but the way Austin treats their relationship with MC feels more suited for a wlm route. I mean, it's not completely nonsensical for the others and it's honestly terribly written even for the wlm route, but why the mlw route would not accuse him of being slutshamey or the mlm and wlw routes would not accuse him of being homophobic is a bit odd.

With an LI like Kieran though I feel like it's easier to suspend any disbelief. None of Kieran's behaviors felt like they'd be rooted in misogyny, plus it is a fantasy realm setting different from modern day earth.

The extra weird thing about gender coding for LIs is that sometimes it can make the f!LI routes more preferable. I have seen some people say Reagan's behaviors felt less uncomfortable and creepy when they were coming from the female version. And as a GNC woman myself, I far preferred the mlw routes for books like ID, SW, and TCH as they felt a little more refreshing, compared to how been-there-done-that they'd have felt in the originally intended wlm routes. But even then, although stuff like LI carrying MC or MC sitting in LI's lap aren't nonsensical with non-wlm to me, I do still want some stories where it's the wlm route that feels more refreshing than the mlw, y'know. I want to be the one holding the umbrella for the LI, or bridal-carrying the LI, or having the LI sitting in my lap.

I'm noticing a lot of these problems– both the actual male coding of f!LIs and the lack of variety in romance dynamics– do boil down to essentially PB being lazy. They just play it safe and rely on a narrow stereotyped view of who their audience is (genderconforming allocishet women) and what they think they like. They rarely if ever expand their boundaries– and what makes that tragic is the fact that they have shown to be capable of doing so every now and then. But for the most part, it's playing it safe 90% of the time.

Sorry for the long ask, I just have a lot of thoughts on this.

Don’t apologize for the long ask! I love talking about gender so thank you! 😊

I agree that TNA has very obvious gender coding errors that make it clear when PB wrote Sam they wrote them as a man. And you’re spot on that there’s a difference between Sam and Regan but at the end of the day their writing still comes across as them being male-coded.

I think the biggest problem with Untameable in terms of gender coding isn’t the writing of Kit themselves but how they write the other characters’ perceptions and reactions to Kit.

Austin is definitely way too overprotective when it comes to female Kit but my biggest gripe is how in rural Oklahoma everyone is completely okay with Kit being a player who has a history of hooking up with only women. And all the women publicly fawning over her too? It’s completely unrealistic and shows that PB didn’t even consider how this would be unbelievable when Kit is a woman.

Listen I’m all for more queernorm stories but this story isn’t queernorm because outside of female Kit and MC there is not a single queer romance depicted. So having everyone in rural Oklahoma know Kit is queer and having them all be okay with it and a bunch of girls fawn over her just shows that Kit was written as a man by PB.

With Kieran I gotta say I disagree with you there. Domestic abuse and intimate partner violence is rooted in the patriarchy and when the victim is a woman rooted in misogyny. Kieran kidnapped the MC and abused her. I don’t think having that be in a fantasy setting changes the gender roles in any way, not when they’re literally being abusive. Even if Kieran is a woman in someone’s story, that abuse is still rooted in the patriarchy and misogyny.

Furthermore, the Cursed Heart is clearly inspired by A Court of Thorns and Roses. This book series is ripe with misogyny, violence against women, and so forth. The love interest in that series is this dark, brooding man from the Night Court (yes PB used the same name too) who literally groomed the 19 year old main character, SA’d her, and kidnapped her. Yet his abuse is then justified by the author and he is turned into the romantic hero of the series.

So personally I think Kieran’s actions are rooted in the patriarchy and misogyny no matter if it’s in a fantasy world or not, no matter if they’re a man or a woman. Abuse is a lot more common in cishet relationships (and while it can obviously happen in queer relationships it’s not as prevalent and even then that abuse is still rooted in the patriarchy) and considering the inspiration behind the Cursed Heart as well I’d say that Kieran is male-coded.

And you’re spot on. The problem is that PB knows which people in their audience pay the most (genderconforming allocishet women) and writes stories for them. They don’t consider how the relationship dynamics are different when it’s a queer relationship compared to a cishet one.

PB has definitely shown that they’re capable of it. For example, when playing Guinevere I really at any point never picked up on the LIs being heavily gendered towards male or female. And I agree PB absolutely has the ability to write these stories and LIs with care and consideration they just choose not to. It’s all about money these days which is very disappointing

Thanks for the ask!

[filmshady]

10 things I thought about while watching LIFT (2024)

It boasts a cast so star-studded that they could probably outshine the $500 million in gold they're trying to steal. It's a shame the charisma of the actors can't elevate the film as high as their lofty heist ambitions.

It delivers a last-minute twist that feels like a desperate attempt to distract you from the visual unpleasantness and cheap aesthetic that plagued the preceding scenes. It's like putting a sparkly bow on a gift you never wanted.

The film's visually unpleasant and cheap aesthetic is a bold choice, as if the director said, "Why bother with cinematography when we can just throw gold bars at the screen and hope for the best?" Spoiler alert: it didn't work.

The forced romantic subplot between Cyrus and Abby is like trying to convince yourself that airplane food is gourmet cuisine – unconvincing, and you're left wondering why you even bothered.

The third act of Lift requires you to suspend your disbelief so often that it feels less like a heist film and more like a crash landing into the realm of implausibility. It's as if the scriptwriter's favourite word was "magic" – as in, "Let's just magic our way out of this plot hole."

Kevin Hart stars as Cyrus Whitaker, a master art thief who, unfortunately, couldn't steal the show. It's like casting a Chihuahua as a guard dog – adorable, but not exactly intimidating.

Gugu Mbatha-Raw's character, Abby Gladwell, seems determined to catch Cyrus, but I'm more determined to understand why she'd pursue a man who, according to the movie, constantly mutes his own charisma. Talk about questionable life choices.

The film's heist, set mostly in two planes and an air traffic control tower, is hampered by the blandness of its sets. It's like watching a magic show where the disappearing act involves the excitement disappearing from the audience.

F. Gary Gray's past credits include classics like Friday, Set It Off, and THE ITALIAN JOB (one of the greatest heist movies to exist) but with Lift, it's like he decided to take a break from craftsmanship. It's the cinematic equivalent of a Michelin-starred chef serving instant noodles.

For a thriller spending most of its third act in the air, Lift struggles to ever get off the ground. It's like a plane that forgot it was supposed to take you on a thrilling ride and decided to taxi around the tarmac indefinitely.

[lady-phasma]

I read your essay about Daemon’s deleted scenes and I also love to analyze film,I studied for it,having read the book though and If they plan to make him a full on villain I can see some problems in the future and his choices. I also think they should have tonned down the Daemyra or whatever and they should have informed Matt they planned to make him a black villain because the guy is saying he loves his niece and his brother and would die for them,I don’t know I find some of the decisions regarding Daemon could be a problem in the future and it’s gives me Got s8 vibes😬

Thank you for reading! I just scream into the void and hope people read it. I wish you had come off anon though - every point you made is valid even if people disagree. The post anon mentioned.

I want to be clear about two things: First, I have a Bachelor's and a Master's in Art History and my minors for my BA and my MA were in film studies. Second, since you studied film you will understand this, I am not writing any of my posts with the tag "film studies" with my personal opinion. It's analysis and synthesis. I won't speak directly to your point about Matt as that's going to venture into the realm of opinion and I can do that on another ask/post.

To your point about GoT season 8... the final season of HotD might be a train wreck, we just have to have faith and enjoy the ride.

I ship Daemyra and I don't think it is problematic for a character who is so clearly terrible as Daemon is. He is bad. Wonderfully bad. But bad characters can feel love. I don't think he's a sociopath. As I have said: his moral compass is skewed. If he loves his family that is completely in line with his obsession with House Targaryen and its superiority.

I could bore everyone with scene analysis or breakdown but I'll try not to. A great moment depicting this devotion is the scene where his own brother is kicking him on the throne room floor. He loves Viserys. He loves Rhaenyra. That does not negate his horrible choices. In fact, it does something fairly remarkable and unusual: it highlights them. It makes people question whether or not viewers should like him. I mean I could do a scene analysis. LoL There are many more moments that make the viewer uncomfortable and are exactly why this rift has been created in the fandom.

I think the show runners are on track to make Daemon flip the expectation and make Daemyra shippers gasp when he does things from the book (but we can't know yet what they will include). I ship Daemyra for sure but will he be a better, more complex character when he cheats on her? Certainly! Will I watch that with the enthusiasm I have now? Yup, no doubt. Humans are complex and we love people but still hurt them. Daemon is 100% allowed to do that too.

Lastly, I think so much of what makes being a fan fun is opinion based. I miss being able to suspend disbelief and be immersed in a story. I really do. But I can't do that, haven't been able to for 20 years, because I have been trained to see manipulative (not a bad word here) shots, hear the manipulative score, and question everything that is presented to the viewer.

I love these kinds of asks! Thank you.

[twosentencereviews]

Is Spider-Gwen trans?

I saw Across the Spider-Verse when it came out recently. It's fantastic, you should go see it. I did note while watching that Gwen's room has a trans rights flag in it, but didn't really think anything of it.

But then, I saw this article on CNN saying that there's a fan theory that Spider-Gwen is trans. They point out the trans flag, as well as other details like the pink-and-blue pastel shades, and just like, the general vibe of the character, you know?

Let's dissect this take from a few angles.

The first thing to observe is that Spider-Gwen is not real. She's a fictional character. Her existence is a delusion that the filmmakers put in our heads, and we as audience members choose to suspend our disbelief about. This means that "is Spider-Gwen trans" is the wrong question to ask; she isn't anything, because she just isn't.

But that's not the end of the discussion, now is it? Just because she isn't real, doesn't mean she doesn't matter, because discussions about art affect the people who are real in the world.

One question that has a refreshingly simple answer is "does Spider-Gwen's story resonate with trans people?" That seems to be yes, according to the CNN post. That's not surprising; Spider-Gwen is an incredibly well-written character, and the struggle of being open about your true self with the people around you is relatable to a lot of people with marginalized identities. If a trans person watches Spider-Gwen and says "this feels true to my life" then that's great.

But a muddier question is "did the creators intend for Spider-Gwen to be trans"?

The "yes" argument is backed up by the fact that they took the time to put the trans flag in her room. With how insanely elaborate the Spider-verse animation style is, that is far from an accident, and it's framed in a way that calls attention to it.

They didn't explicitly say it, though. They have (at least so far; maybe Beyond will change this) left it in the realm of coding and plausible deniability. You don't have to be trans to have a Protect Trans Kids flag, just like you don't need to be black to have a Black Lives Matter flag. Her world's background art has a lot of pastels, but pinks and soft blues are also just, like, feminine colors. They could just be there to highlight the fact that Gwen is a teenage girl and Miles is a teenage boy (his surroundings tend to have more oranges and reds). And Gwen's relationship with her dad is deliberately juxtaposed against Miles and his parents, as parallel Spider-person arcs.

If they didn't intend Gwen as trans, but the reading comes through anyway, they might choose to stay silent because saying "no, this character you're excited about isn't trans, stop having fun" is kind of a dick move. This paints either paint the creators as oblivious ("whoops, we did a trans") or the fans as ravenously starved for good trans representation (justifiably so, but still) and grasping at straws.

So, what if they did intend Gwen to be trans? Then why not make it explicit?

There is one possible, mostly okay justification. One of the differences between being LGB and being T is that, if you're gay, you want other people to recognize you as gay, and have uniquely gay experiences (namely, same-gender romance). But if you're trans, you just want to be treated like the gender you are, and have the fact that you were assigned differently at birth be something forgotten or deemed irrelevant. With this in mind, if Gwen is intended to be trans, then not signposting that and letting her just be a normal teenage girl (with superpowers, obviously) might be trying to treat this with respect. That's the charitable reading.

A disappointing justification might be that the creators wanted to be more explicit, but corporate said no. Trans rights are a current political battleground, and Sony might have vetoed to cover their ass. Or, alternatively, maybe it was no-go because it violates Marvel canon--Gwen Stacy has never been trans before in the comics. This would make the hints and innuendos the creators pushing in as much representation as they were allowed.

But the worst justification is, simply, queerbaiting. If you hint that a beloved character might be trans, you get all the attention from pro-trans people but can maybe duck the heat from the bigots. (Note: this never works. Fox News sees "the trans agenda" everywhere; they are hypervigilant and keyed in, same as trans people and allies, just for all the wrong reasons.) Queerbaiting is frustrating and stupid and bad, because it treats LGBT issues as useful for boosting sales and viewership...but not worth engaging with honestly or openly.

Which leaves me with my last question. Assuming no further developments in Beyond, should we accept Spider-Gwen as a trans icon? Should we point to Spider-Gwen as "good trans representation" even without explicit confirmation from the creators (in-story or meta-textually)?

I don't think we should. This isn't enough. Whether Spider-Gwen is trans-coded by accident, stealth trans to slip past the censors, outright queerbaiting, or just a really good character that trans people happen to emotionally connect with...this isn't isn't what representation means. Representation means taking a stand, saying "trans experiences are normal and healthy; transphobia is abnormal and shameful". As long as an average person can leave the theater oblivious to your coding, you aren't moving the needle of public perception.

Don't take this as a condemnation. Across the Spider-verse is a truly excellent film with tons of other good representation. I particularly like the fact that there's a Spider-man actively parenting his kid, and a pregnant Spider-woman kicking ass. And, of course, the lead is still a black Hispanic teen. All of that is good and rare and awesome. But I'm not going to give them more than they've earned on Gwen maybe being trans.

[queer-ragnelle]

Nothing knocks me out of suspended disbelief faster than a character presenting in a way at odds with their given age.

If you’re telling me this kid is younger than 10, they can’t compete with an adult. In any way. Whether that’s through elevated word choice or behaviors too advanced for their level of development, it just feels wrong. Almost uncanny. The movie Orphan justified this narrative choice by revealing it was a grown woman pretending to be a child. It recontextualized previous events so the story worked. Baby Teeth by Zoje Stage did not believable justify the uncanny behavior so it felt disingenuous.

The flip side is true too. If your adult character’s emotional maturity is poor and not otherwise justified by your narrative, it just feels infantile. Fitz’s behaviors in Realm of the Enderlings by Robin Hobb are frustrating at times. But readers understand why he’s developmentally stunted because it’s thoroughly explored and presented as a flaw the character must overcome.

If these inconsistencies with reality are left to fester, it’s annoying at best, and at worst, it degrades a reader’s trust in the author. I promise you don’t remember what it was like to be a child as well as you think you do. Nor can you encompass all experiences without exposure to them. Spend time with children. Interview older generations. People watch at the park. Your writing will be better for it.