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#don't get me wrong he was also in the franchise too long
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the real problem with Scrappy Doo is he was introduced to the franchise when its writing was going downhill in general and he had very few, if any, opportunities to be well written even as a comedic side character
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taevbears · 11 months
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Movie Night
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When horror movies don't scare you anymore, your boyfriend wants to figure out what you are afraid of.
⤑ pairing: Jungkook x fem!reader (feat. the Daegu boys) ⤑ genre: horror, mystery, suspense, one-shot ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 6.1k ⤑ warnings: obsessive behavior, stalking, depictions of kidnapping, torture, and multiple murders, hidden camera, non-explicit sex, a bit of angst, open ending. this fic gets pretty dark, so please be cautious of the warnings! ⤑ note: happy halloween! this started as a little spooky shower thought i had a little over a month ago and became this lol. i love reading scary stories, but lmao, i feel like i'm not very good at writing them. thank you @angelicyoongie for assuring me that this isn't as terrible as i think it is. also please note that this is a work of fiction and i don't think IRL jungkook is like the character in this fic at all
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“No, please! Don’t hurt me!”
The shadow of a muscular, male figure looms over the female protagonist. His breaths are heavy from chasing her around, barely visible against the chilly, October air. Finally, he has her cornered. He holds up a sharp knife in the air.
The woman trembles on the ground, sobbing and pleading for her life to be spared. Mascara runs down her cheeks, and a look of hopelessness and despair fills her eyes. She holds her hands in front of her in a feeble attempt to defend herself.
The camera pans away as the killer violently stabs the woman. Her terrifying screams of pain and anguish echoes from the TV screen as fake blood splatters on the wall.
Blue and white light bathes over you and your date in the dim living room. You try to suppress a long yawn with the back of your hand.
You’re so bored, you’re practically in tears.
“You didn’t like it?” Jungkook asks you, chuckling at your reaction.
“It didn’t scare me,” you admit sheepishly, hoping he doesn’t get the wrong idea.
You love horror movies. It’s what inspired you to become a film student. You love being on the edge of your seat from the thrill and suspense that the main character acts out. You love being genuinely shocked from unexpected twists and jump-scares. You love a good ghost story that haunts you long after the credits roll, or the paranoia of a similar terrifying incident happening to you.
But perhaps, over time, they’ve lost a bit of their magic.
Although the production of movies has become phenomenal in recent years, movies these days seem to rely too heavily on shock value and nostalgia. Once popular franchises are milking out their legacies to a newer audience. There are so many retellings of the same, old stories that you can already accurately predict what will happen before you reach the ending. Even some of the most climactic scenes of the movie are so over-the-top, they’re almost comical.
Honestly, it has nothing to do with your date or even the so-called horror movie itself. You just don’t scare as easily anymore.
Jungkook peers are you curiously, a boyish grin on his face. “Then, what are you scared of?”
“I don’t know. Probably nothing.”
“Yeah? That’s a bold statement.”
“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”
Jungkook laughs. “You have to be scared of something.”
You throw the question back at him. “Then, what are you afraid of?”
He thinks about it, rubbing his chin in thought and pushing his tongue against the lip rings on his mouth. Then, he meets your gaze. There’s a sparkle in his eyes as he smiles at you. “Hmm, I think I’d be scared to lose you.”
You find yourself smiling back at him.
“You’re so sweet, Kook,” you tell him, leaning over to kiss him.
Only recently, you and Jungkook started dating officially, and you really like him a lot. He’s very cute, funny, handsome, and perfect in many ways. Butterflies flutter in your stomach when you’re around him, and there’s still that exciting giddiness and eagerness of new love whenever he messages you or visits you in the evening.
In some ways, Jungkook is almost too good to be true.
Part of you wonders if there’s a catch.
But with his lips on yours, it’s easy to push that thought aside.
Credits roll on the screen as the movie comes to an end. His fingers glide up your thigh as yours tangle into his hair. The cool piercing on his lips presses against your bottom lip as he slips his tongue in your mouth, and a soft moan escapes you.
Suddenly, Jungkook pulls away and faces the TV. He uses the remote to tap out of the movie credits and browse through the list of recommended shows on your streaming service. Casually, trying to hide a teasing smirk, he asks, “How about we watch a different movie, then?”
You stare back at him, a bit stunned and flustered. But your own smile touches your lips.
“Or,” you suggest, grabbing his wrist to lower the remote. He turns away from the screen to look at you, eyes lingering on the sultry smile on your lips. “I know something else we can do instead.”
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When you first saw Jungkook, you thought you were being catfished.
His selfie on the dating app included a slight head tilt, a pucker of his pierced lips, and a peace sign. Big, doe-shaped eyes stared back at you from your phone screen, and you noticed the tiny moles below his lip, on the tip of his nose, and on his cheek.
The second picture was of him and his brown doberman, affectionately named Bam. The picture was taken of them outside. One of his hands was holding a tennis ball and the other was gently touching the dog’s long ears. A small, fond smile tugged on your lips when you looked between them and realized that they kind of looked alike.
The third picture was him at the gym. It was a back-shot where he was using the equipment. Broad shoulders, buff arms and back, a tiny waist. You stared way too long at his strong muscles and the ink on his arm before you finally swiped right.
Turned out, much to your surprise, he liked your pictures too. The two of you were a match.
And it wasn’t long until he sent his first message to you. In your inbox, a simple: “hey :)”
On your first date, the two of you agreed to meet at a very public, very crowded bistro. You stood nervously by the building, dressed nice for the occasion. And in case anything went wrong or if this Jungkook guy wasn’t who you expected him to be, you shared your location and had a “send help lol” message on standby for your bestie, Min Yoongi.
As you waited, scrolling through and jumping around different apps on your phone, you found yourself to be surprised yet again.
Someone who looked like the guy you’ve been chatting with called out your name. And soon, he was standing in front of you: big eyes, bigger muscles, tiny beauty marks on his face, colorful ink on his arm, a charming smile, and a simple, “Hey, I’m Jungkook.”
One date turned to a second date. Then, a third. And by the fourth date, as he laid in your bed that night and snuggled close to you, it finally started to sink in that Jungkook wasn’t some figment of your imagination.
He was real, and sweet, and seemed to really like you as well.
Jungkook, like you, had an interest in filming. He especially liked editing videos for his dance challenges, short clips, and a series he called “Golden Closet Film” on his channel. While you imagined yourself to be a big director, working in movie sets, and making scripts come to life with your vision, Jungkook told you he’d like to film a project where you’re the star.
“I don’t think I’m on-screen material,” you replied, amused by the idea. You’re not an actress. You don’t think you have the kind of beauty filmmakers seek out for their lead roles. Hell, if anything, Jungkook would be a better fit for an acting gig.
“You are,” he insisted, brushing his thumb against your knuckles. “To me, you’re perfect.”
You smiled at him then, your heart fluttering by his words. “You are to me, too.”
It was shortly after that conversation when you both decided to date each other exclusively. And it felt like the kind of romance you’d see in the movies. Picture perfect, a little corny at times, and a thrilling whirlwind of laughter, teasing remarks, and intimate touches.
“Am I who you thought I’d be?” Jungkook asks you the next morning after the movie-night bust, propping himself up on the side and peering down on you. His arm flexes, colorful ink decorating it, as the thick comforter wraps around his bare body.
“No,” you confessed, still a bit tired from last night. You keep your eyes closed as you quietly murmur, “You’re even better.”
“Yeah?”
You don’t need to open your eyes to see the pleased look on his face. As you feel him press his lips against your cheek, you ask, “What about me? Am I who you thought I’d be?”
Had you opened your eyes then, perhaps you would’ve seen it. The blank look on his face as he pulls away from you, how the light in his eyes suddenly seems to vanish, as if he isn’t really looking at you anymore.
Jungkook doesn’t answer you right away. When you open your eyes, you see him shaking his head. The same, sweet boyish smile appears on his lips.
“You’re exactly what I’m looking for.”
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The topic about exes inevitably came up early on in your relationship with Jungkook. You’ve dated casually before. Even thought you’d be getting somewhere with some of the guys you were talking to.
But none of them quite compared to Kim Taehyung.
You were a film student. He was a photography major. The two of you were bound to end up in some of the same classes together in the art division.
To you, it was love at first sight. You fell for him so hard and so fast.
What started as bumping into each other at the library and helping each other with assignments led to making out at each other’s dorms with the text books left unopened. Coffee dates between classes became anniversary dinners at nice restaurants. He introduced you to his parents, and you proposed going on a romantic getaway together.
The day you didn’t think you’d ever love anyone else was when he snapped a photo of you looking out at the scenery during that weekend trip. It was just you and him, and a natural setting that looked straight out of a movie.
He smiled to himself as he looked at the picture through his camera. That day, he called you his muse.
And in return, you told him that you loved him.
When you fell for Taehyung, you fell hard and fast. Eventually, it occurred to you that Taehyung didn’t do the same.
Sure, he cared about you. Sure, he loved you. But while you heard wedding bells and dreamed about your future with him, Taehyung was just starting to put himself out there in the world. His art was being recognized, and he was getting booked to shoot at weddings, parties, and other big events every week.
Soon, the dates happened less frequently. The romantic gestures of bringing you flowers, surprising you on nice dates or small gifts, or even renting your favorite movies to watch together happened even less. He would promise that he’d make it to a party or an important event to you, just to let you down. And it felt like him giving you a bit of affection or attention was a chore.
Taehyung was the world to you, but the petty arguments and the distance that started growing between you two made it clear to you where his priorities were. And it wasn’t with you.
Breaking up with him was the hardest thing you had to do. Both of you knew it was coming. It was just a matter of who broke up with who first.
Just as Taehyung came into your life, quickly and effortlessly, he was gone. Nothing but bittersweet memories of what once was and what could have been weighed heavily on you for months.
What made it worse was that Taehyung, a man you loved with all your heart, had moved on from you so fast and so easily.
You saw him and his new girlfriend at a mutual friend’s party. You were warned that he’d be there, that he was already seeing someone. But it still hurt like hell to see him happy and in love with another person.
But if Taehyung could move on, so could you.
It felt weird at first, but you started to put yourself out there again. You joined dating apps. You went out with the people that fancied your interest. You met Jungkook.
And from there, everything was history.
With Jungkook, you started to think about Taehyung a lot less. The plaguing “what ifs” have quieted down, and the hurt from heartbreak began to heal. With Jungkook, you started to feel like yourself again: you started to smile more, laugh more loudly, enjoy watching movies again, became passionate about cinematic ideas you’d like to create one day.
With Jungkook, you’re also cautiously optimistic.
Because like Taehyung, you feel yourself falling hard and fast for Jungkook. It’s almost scary how truly perfect he is.
“I think you’re just psyching yourself out,” Yoongi tells you, sliding into the chair opposite of you with two cups of coffee in his hands. He smells like freshly-baked cookies. A spot of flour stains his apron as he uses his fifteen-minute break to hang out with you.
“Maybe,” you sigh, gratefully taking the drink he hands you. “What do you think about him?”
“Does my opinion even matter at this point? You’re in love with him,” he drawls before taking a sip of his Iced Americano.
“Of course it does, best friend. Why else would I keep you around?” you remark, taking a sip of your own drink. “Besides the free coffee and cookies. Thank you, by the way.”
He rolls his eyes. The perks of being friends with the cookie boy at your local bakery is a free cup of coffee and getting dibs on leftover treats that didn’t sell the day.
“He’s fine. Kind of annoying. A little too energetic,” he answers as his eyes flit toward the TV screen that his boss keeps on. A woman dressed in bright, business clothing holds a microphone as she reports on the recent news. There’s a grim look on her face.
You have your back turned to it, but you can hear Yoongi’s boss turning up the volume.
Breaking news. Missing woman found dead near home. The victim has succumbed to multiple stab wounds. It is believed that she has been kidnapped and tortured prior to her violent death. The attacker is currently unknown and still at large. Local authorities advise staying indoors and to please report any suspicious activity.
Your heart sinks as you look over your shoulder, seeing police taping off the crime scene and answering what they can to the news outlets. The location is so close to where you are.
“This is the second victim,” a customer mutters with a frown.
The person they’re with nods their head and asks, “Do you think they’re connected?”
“I don’t know. I hope not. We’ll have a serial killer in our hands.”
“Hey,” Yoongi calls your attention. When you look at him, there’s concern on his face. “If you need a ride anywhere, make sure you call me. Doesn’t matter what time.”
“I’ll be okay, Yoongi. Jungkook usually comes to my place anyway.”
“Still. Just let me know that you’re still alive when I check in, all right?” he says as he stares at the screen. You don’t blame him for being worried. As you follow his gaze, you see a picture of the latest victim of the ongoing case that has the whole town on edge.
This woman, like the others, kind of looks like you.
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“If you’re with me, you have nothing to worry about,” Jungkook assures you, throwing a tennis ball as Bam hurriedly chases after it. 
The two of you are at a park with his dobermann. Despite how scary it’s been lately with the news, it’s a nice day. Children are screaming and playing together on the playground as their parents watch them nearby. A group of teenage boys are playing basketball on the outdoor court. Middle-aged and elderly couples are paired up and are getting their daily steps in.
“My hero,” you joke half-heartedly, but you’re still a bit concerned. Yoongi being worried about you makes you feel paranoid.
Jungkook turns to you. He holds out his hand as Bam retrieves the ball and drops it for another throw. “I thought you weren't afraid of anything.”
“Movie-wise, I’m not. But this is different.”
Jungkook throws the slobbery ball again. Further this time as Bam barks happily and takes off. He takes a seat next to you on the park bench. “I can leave Bam with you when I have my evening shifts. He makes a good guard dog.”
He works as an editor and cameraman for a big content creator, which gives him lots of flexible hours to work on his projects when he isn’t busy filming. Since the beginning of autumn, his boss has been giving him evening work to film ghost-hunting videos and other spooky content for Halloween.
“That’ll be nice,” you reply with a small smile. The two of them have been coming to your place so often, it might as well be their second home.
From a short distance, Bam lies on the grass with the tennis ball by his paws. His tongue is out, needing a short break from running around, as he faces you and Jungkook. Even with other dogs and kids around, he’s very well-behaved.
Just as Jungkook tells you that he’ll get Bam, the sound of small, excited barks grab your attention. A familiar black and brown pomeranian approaches you like an old friend, wagging its tail and perking its ears up when it sees you.
Your heart nearly jumps when you recognize the dog.
“Tan!”
You know that voice. How could you not?
That deep, smooth baritone has haunted you for months.
Taehyung, your ex-boyfriend, stops in his tracks when he realizes why his pomeranian took off. The two of you were still together when he adopted Yeontan, and you were there to help raise him when he was still a puppy.
“Who’s this?” Jungkook asks, drawing your attention back to him. He reaches out to pet Yeontan, but the pomeranian growls at him. Almost like he wants to protect you from him.
“Sorry, he’s mine,” Taehyung apologizes, stepping closer to you two and picking his dog up. He looks at you as he tries to soothe the agitated Yeontan in his arms. “It’s been a while. How’ve you been?”
“Good,” you reply politely. Old feelings start to pull on your heart strings that you fervently try to ignore. “I’m good.”
“You look good,” Taehyung starts, but then he purses his lips in regret. It’s obvious that he’s nervous to talk to you. Maybe he feels the same as you.
Softly, you reply, “You do, too.”
“Who’s this?” Jungkook repeats. This time, there’s an annoyed look on his face as he stares at Taehyung. 
It puts you off a bit. Jungkook is usually a friendly guy.
“Oh, this is Taehyung. We used to date,” you tell him honestly. Though, the information seems to just annoy him more. “Taehyung, this is—”
“I’m Jungkook. She’s my girlfriend now.”
His arm snakes around you possessively. He holds a steady gaze, but it’s a look you’ve never seen on him before. Dark, threatening, and angry. It’s almost unnerving.
“I see…” Taehyung trails off as his gaze shifts toward him. Yeontan is still in his arms, growling and barking at Jungkook. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the pup so aggressive toward someone. Even Bam comes over, ditching his ball to guard over you and Jungkook.
“It was nice to see you, Taehyung,” you tell him, sensing the tension in the air and deciding to cut things off. He seems reluctant to leave.
“Yeah…” he continues to trail off, finally pulling his gaze away to look at you. It looks like there’s a million things he wants to say to you. In a lower tone, he tells you, “My number is still the same. If you ever want to talk.”
You frown. After the breakup, you’ve deleted his number and unfollowed him on social media. “Oh, I don’t—”
“Then I’ll call you,” he promises, firm with his decision.
You don’t get it. You and Taehyung have run into each other after the breakup before, and he’s never had an issue with you dating anyone after him. He clearly has moved on, and so have you. 
Why now?
What is it about Jungkook that has him worried for you?
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“I don’t like that guy.”
Jungkook is still heated as he drives you home. His grip is tight around the steering wheel, and the tires screech when he makes a sharp turn. Bam stumbles a bit in the back before sticking his head out the window again.
“Slow down, Kook. You have nothing to be worried about.”
The radio blasts in the car, too much in a rush to connect his playlist to the stereo. It’s playing the week’s top music, and a catchy song from a popular artist fills the car.
Curious, you open your phone and check your followers. You’ve unfollowed Taehyung a long time ago on all your social platforms, finding it hard to look at any of his recent pictures – even just his scenic photography – without thinking about how he had once called you his muse.
But Taehyung never unfollowed you. He had always kept his inbox open for you.
“Did you see the way he was looking at me? It’s like he was looking down on me,” he continues to rant, speeding over a yellow light. He glances over at you and sees that you’re distracted with your phone. “I don’t like how you were looking at him either.”
“Are you serious?” you ask, turning your attention to him. “We barely talked. What the hell are you trying to insinuate?”
On the radio, the program is interrupted. One of the hosts makes a grim announcement.
Ladies and gentlemen, we just received unfortunate news that a third body has been found pertaining to a series of brutal deaths. 
“You still love him! You’ll go back and leave me again!” he suddenly snaps, throwing you off guard.
Silence follows the tension.
Then, you inquire, “Again?”
The third victim is a young female. Hair color and eye color match the previous victims as well, indicating that this might be a targeted attack by the killer.
Not once have you been unfaithful to Jungkook. Even when you were starting to message each other, you weren’t talking to anyone else. The two of you haven’t even been dating that long.
“Forget I said anything,” he starts with a frustrated sigh. But he realizes he’s fucked up.
“No, I’m not just going to forget it. What do you mean by that, Jungkook?”
As of now, authorities have no leads on a suspect. All victims have been kidnapped, tied up, and tortured prior to their deaths. We are led to believe that this is the work of a potential serial killer. 
He nearly slams to a stop. The seatbelt around you yanks you back from hitting the dashboard. Bam falls to the floor and you gasp as the back of your head hits your seat.
Jungkook doesn’t answer you, but for the first time, it feels like the rose-tinted glasses you have on him have fallen off. He’s always been perfect to you: sweet, athletic, talented, and kind. But the Jungkook before you is someone completely different.
This Jungkook scares you.
Stay inside. Lock your doors. Call the police if you see anything suspicious. Be safe out there, folks.
“I told you to forget about it, didn’t I?” he asks through gritted teeth and a harsh look in his eye.
You nod your head, hands trembling a bit as you hold onto your vibrating phone. The screen shows an unknown number trying to contact you.
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“Is there a reason why your boyfriend called me?” Yoongi asks you from the other line. He has you on face-time, awkwardly propping up the camera to show his elbow as he mixes a batch of cookies.
It’s been about a week since you saw Jungkook.
After he dropped you off at home, he wanted to put it all behind him. He kissed you sweetly and murmured apologies for overreacting as his hands slipped under your shirt. But you sent him home before he could convince you to sleep with him. You were still upset about how hostile he was toward Taehyung, his accusations about you, and what his outburst meant.
That hasn’t stopped him from trying to get back to your good graces, though.
The number of missed calls from him keeps increasing by the hour. Ones that you leave unanswered or send straight to your voicemail. 
You don’t want to talk to him.
At your door, you hear him rapping his knuckles against the wooden frame and insistently ringing at your doorbell. From the other side of the door, he begs for a chance to explain. 
You don’t want to see him.
Clearly, after reaching you directly hasn’t worked, he’s starting to contact your friends.
“He’s probably trying to find me,” you tell Yoongi, poking at a bowl of fresh strawberries. You’re still dressed in your pajamas, sitting on a stool by the kitchen counter.
The sound of a small dog can be heard in the background of your line. It dawns on him that you’re not at your place or Jungkook’s.
Yoongi is silent for a moment. Then, he grabs the phone and asks, “What do you mean? Where are you?”
You don’t feel safe in your own home. And that day, while you were in Jungkook’s car, Taehyung called to check up on you. He was always good at reading people, and he warned you that he had a bad vibe about Jungkook.
And you’re starting to see what he meant.
“I didn’t know where else to go.”
When you turn your phone, you reveal Taehyung busy in the kitchen, cutting off the crusts from his sandwiches. He looks over his shoulder and gives a sheepish smile at the scandalized expression on your best friend’s face. “Hey Yoongi.”
“Can you please explain what’s going on? Why are you at your ex’s?”
So, you do. You tell him that Jungkook wouldn’t leave you alone, that you needed some space to cool off but he wouldn’t let you breathe. It was becoming overbearing and overwhelming.
Against your better judgment, you call Taehyung. He invites you to stay over at his place until you’re ready to talk things out with Jungkook. Because even if you’re not together, he still cares about you. Because a part of him will always love you. And at the time, it seemed like a good idea.
“I didn’t want to be alone, especially with a killer targeting women like me out there,” you explain quietly. It feels like the murders have increased in a shorter period of time. If the town wasn’t on edge before, they certainly are now. “But I was still mad at Jungkook, and he was starting to scare me.”
“So the first person you go to is your ex-boyfriend?”
“There’s nothing going on between us.”
That ship has sailed. You know it has when you walked in and saw his engagement pictures hanging on the wall.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“I’m sure he would’ve figured out that I’d be with you,” you tell him with a frown.
“I just wanted to help her, hyung,” Taehyung adds as he stands behind you. “I worry about her too. That guy gives me and Tan a bad feeling.”
Yoongi sighs. “Listen, I don’t think this is a good idea either. You shouldn’t stay with Taehyung. It’ll just make things look a lot worse.”
“I guess you’re right,” you reluctantly agree. Taehyung grimaces, but he can see Yoongi’s point too.
“I’ll pick you up after my shift. You can stay with me until you’re ready to talk to Jungkook,” Yoongi tells you, looking rather serious. “Don’t do anything stupid in the meantime, okay?”
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Hey. It’s Jungkook.
You stare at the message on your phone. Three dots that indicate that he’s typing something, but he keeps erasing and re-typing them again. As if he’s trying to properly convey his words.
Are we breaking up?
You stare at that message even longer. It feels childish to break up with him without trying to talk to him. For the first time in a week, you pick up your phone and type back.
You scared me, Kook.
His response is immediate.
I thought you weren’t scared of anything.
You huff when you realize he’s teasing you, even now.
Movie-wise, I’m not. But this. This is different, Kook. You were really scaring me.
Again, you see the dots appear and disappear before a handful of responses appear.
I know, babe. I’m sorry. Can you please come over? I want to show you something I’ve been working on.
You think about it.
I miss you. Bam misses you too.
Yoongi said not to do anything stupid.
Please, baby. We can just watch a movie, if you want.
But, like in every horror movie, the protagonist finds themselves making a plethora of stupid decisions.
Okay, Kook. I’ll come tonight.
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Movie nights with Jungkook was one of the things you always looked forward to throughout the week. Nothing appealed to you more than a night-in with your boyfriend, food delivered at your door, and checking out new shows and movies.
You have your list of favorites, but nothing quite holds a place in your heart than a good ol’ horror movie. Tellings of urban legends, supernatural forces, paranormal activities, true crime, and slasher films. 
As you step into Jungkook’s house, it almost feels like you’re in one of those movies.
His place is dark, almost pitched black. You could barely see what’s in front of you.
“Come inside,” Jungkook says, grabbing your hand. He pulls you in and deadbolts the door behind you.
“It’s so dark,” you remark, gingerly stepping forward. You have a bad feeling about this. You almost pull back toward the door, thinking of waiting for Yoongi or going back to Taehyung instead.
But Jungkook has a firm grip on you. “I thought you weren’t afraid of anything.”
“This is different, Kook,” you try to reason. “You’re really freaking me out.”
He pulls you further inside. In the living room, nothing but the TV is on. The screen is paused on a homemade film.
This must be the project that Jungkook is talking about.
Everything is set. The living room is clean, a bowl of popcorn and a couple bottles of alcohol sits on the coffee table, the lights are off, and the show is ready to play. He sits you down in the middle and keeps an arm around you.
“You know, when we met, you were exactly what I was looking for,” he starts as he presses play.
The tape shows you. Bam lying on your lap as you affectionately pet his face and kiss the top of his head. You, holding Jungkook’s hand and leading him down a busy sidewalk. You, in the kitchen, trying to swat his hand away as he steals your ingredients. You and Jungkook, peering into the camera lens, and your bashful face as he kisses your cheek. 
A smile tugs on your lips as you watch yourself on the screen. Jungkook leans over, copying his onscreen self and kisses your face.
One thing you liked about filming is seeing things from a different perspective. In this case, seeing yourself through Jungkook’s eyes. You look so happy, so incredibly in love with him.
Like with Taehyung, you fell for Jungkook hard and fast.
But Jungkook fell for you harder and faster.
Your smile fades as the next scene shows.
The camera points to the bed, and a couple walks in. It’s you and Jungkook, stumbling in together after drinks at a bar. You’re laughing and trying to wrap your arms around him as he leads you onto the bed. The kiss you share is messy, heated. You tug off his clothes to feel more of him.
You remember that night, but…
“Jungkook. When did you record this?”
You had no idea he was filming you then.
You don’t realize it then, but he makes eye contact with the camera, as if to check that it’s on. He maneuvers you to get a good angle of your body as you busy yourself with your own clothes, wanting him to touch you more as well.
“Jungkook, stop. I didn’t—” 
You feel so sick to your stomach.
“Don’t cry, baby. Here, I’ll fast-forward.”
But you don’t want to watch anymore. You want to leave. You shouldn’t have come here.
The screen shows you and Yoongi. The two of you are at the bakery he works at, and you’re wearing an old cardigan that you got rid of . You smile and eagerly reach for one of the coffees in his hands and take the bag of cookies he’s holding between his lips. He rolls his eyes at something you say before he takes his first sip of his Iced Americano. It’s a typical hangout between you and him.
It looks like it was taken across the street. Your heart plummets even further when you realize that the old cardigan you’re wearing was a piece of clothing you got rid of before you met Jungkook.
The scene changes. You’re sitting at the fountain at your university, looking over a script you wrote for an assignment. Taehyung comes to take a seat next to you. He greets you with a boxy smile and a kiss. The two of you were still dating at the time.
How long has Jungkook known about you?
How long has he been targeting you?
It’s you and Taehyung again. This time, it was filmed from the other night. When Taehyung came to pick you up from your house. He helps you carry some of your things into his car and hugs you when he sees the distressed look on your face. 
“Jungkook, what the fuck?”
It dawns on you that you don’t really know your boyfriend at all.
You try to stand up, but Jungkook has a firm hold on you. His grip tightens when you try to resist him, and his hand seizes your neck as he pushes you down. Your heart hammers against your ribs when you quickly realize you can’t escape him. Jungkook is much stronger and faster than you are.
More images flash through the screen. It’s Jungkook this time, taking a mirror-selfie of himself dressed in all black. He has his hood up and a Halloween mask covering his face. 
It cuts to his feet walking across the sidewalk. Carefully, the camera tilts up, showing that there’s a woman just ahead of him. She’s about your height, her hair the same as yours. She doesn’t notice him as she listens to music playing in her earbuds. 
The scene cuts again, and the same woman is bound and gagged on a chair. Fear shines through her eyes as a shadow of a knife reflects from her body. Behind the camera, Jungkook demands, “Say your line.”
He removes the gag from her mouth. Her voice pitches in a high shrill as she quickly says, “I-I love you. I won’t leave you.”
You recognize her as the latest victim of the latest killings.
And the realization hits you like a truck. Jungkook and his night shifts, the increasing deaths, his interest in filming, having you as the star.
“I practiced, you know. I’ll get it right this time,” he tells you, pulling out some rope he had hidden behind the cushion. You’re trembling as he wraps them tightly around your wrist. “I’ll make sure you don’t leave me again.”
“You’re so bad,” the Jungkook on the screen says, showing what looks like an abandoned warehouse. It’s dimly lit, but you can hear someone running from him. But he doesn’t seem worried, his heavy footsteps casually echo across the concrete. In his hand is a sharp and bloody knife. Mockingly, he asks, “Where did you think you’d go?”
The victim has been let go, but she isn’t free. Ahead, she finds herself cornered as Jungkook catches up to her. Terrified, she holds her hands out in front of her, as if that would stop him.
It’s like seeing your own fate on the screen.
The woman begs and screams before her blood splatters across the floor. You find yourself quoting her, staring up at his darkened eyes. “No, please. Don’t hurt me.”
“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks, staring right at you. His mouth twitches, fighting a smile. “I thought you liked horror movies.”
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Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!
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seraphdesire · 11 days
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Regarding Donna Beneviento and her characterisation in the fandom, I think it's important to note that she really isn't the shy awkward adorable blushing mess that everyone depicts her as being.
This got long but I did a mildly extensive read on her character under the break! :)
Here are the notes I took a screencap of, written by Mother Miranda, which talks about the suitability of Donna being a vessel for Eva:
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There's the evidence you need that she is severely mentally ill, so babying her just feels... wrong anyway, all things considered.
Note - "and has divided her Cadou among her dolls in order to control them from a distance." While I'm on my 3rd replay of re8 I still don't fully get how the Cadou works, but what I think is essentially happening is Donna is literally splitting off parts of herself and putting them in her dolls.
The main one being Angie, of course.
I always used to consider Angie a separate character entirely but she's linked deeply to Donna on a very personal level. Considering what she's like and what all the other dolls are like - loud, funny, sarcastic, rude, etc - and how Donna is literally the one directly controlling Angie (that's the only way she moves lol, because Donna is carrying her places. Which is also why, when you kill Angie, the illusion melts away to reveal that you've actually killed Donna), I think it's safe to say that's what her actual personality is like.
Also, her only spoken line of dialogue? Please listen to it. For those who are hard of hearing, like me, she says: "don't leave... I can't let you."
Bearing in mind the way she speaks? Her tone? She sounds confident imo. Determined. And perhaps even a little angry at Ethan for thinking he can escape her.
Just a last addition as well, can I say that her abilities as one of the Four Lourds is genuinely evil? Everyone else has physical intimidation - Alcina has her height and her claws and mutation, Heisenberg has his ability to control magnetic fields and metal, and Moreau can mutate into that huge fish-with-legs thing that vomits something akin to acid? Oh yeah and he can swallow you whole too.
Donna, on the other hand, doesn't have physical intimidation like that. She only has the threat of psychological damage (which makes sense considering she's severely mentally unwell). When Ethan goes through her gardens and has to solve the puzzles in the house, she makes him hallucinate about his wife whom he thinks is dead, and about his baby who is somewhere in this unknown country with a bunch of mutants who only have bad intentions.
It's even worse in the Shadows of Rose DLC imo. As Rose, Donna makes her hallucinate the bullies from back home, being called a freak and a weirdo, made to relive the worst moments of her life. And the puzzles too? Hell. Having to actually recreate the scenes of her bullying with wooden fucking dolls. I remember feeling really sorry for Rose while playing through that part.
And yet Donna is still "the uwu baby" because what? I don't know. People love to declaw female villains just because they're attractive (looking at Lady Dimitrescu here). They love to reduce the characters down to their looks and not consider their actual lore or background or the role they play in the franchise (looking at Leon especially...)
Which, ya know, of course people are allowed their headcanons for characters and Donna doesn't get enough screentime to really have her personality even thought of, let alone to be made canon. But I think it's fair to say that Angie and Donna are basically one and the same because they're literally the same Cadou.
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This is a quick reminder that you are, of course, allowed to disagree with me. Everyone has their own opinions and that's fine. If you would like to politely debate about this in my comments or in my DMs, or even in my asks, then you're more than welcome to! Please remember debating and arguing are two different things though.
If it really irks you that bad then please scroll, it's not hard. If you don't want to do that then feel free to block me - the button is free of charge after all and should be used more to cultivate your feed to your liking.
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anonymouscheeses · 9 days
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Im sorry i have to say it..: Get Your Hands Dirty sounds like a love song.
HEAR. ME. OUTT!! (No i dont mean a love song between Chloe n Ella omg 😭)
What I'm implying here is that it sounds like one of those niche high school love stories when one of the lovers(most likely a goodie two-shoes) goes to their mentor/parent/even the person their loving/etc to ask for advice on relationships. Or more specifically, if this person is worth it or even a good person. From the top of my head: I Won't Say (I'm In Love) and the goodie and the wildchild dynamic is pretty similar to Gabriella and Troy from hs musical, which iws(iil) kinda inspired this post tbh but also ive been thinking about this ever since i first watched the movie. (You plop in ur own songs, i js KNOW this trope exists)
Now that we've established the well used niche trope existing in this niche song made by the niche king that is Disney.... why do i think that Get Your Hands Dirty is a love song, i hear?
Lets analyze THE LYRIICS 😈😈
"Right and wrong, cruel and kind, who's to say?" "There's a code that I believe in."
"Robin Hood" "yeah?" "Awesome guy" "yeah!"
"Every choice, you're gonna find there's shades of grey." "There are rules for a reason!"
"So you could then cross that line, theoretically."
"You'd agree?" "But he stole for the poor."
"The decision's always up to you. When there's only one thing left to do"
"I don't know you anymore.."
Okay, so i shortened and made it tiny for obvious reasons, that bein its too long 😭 so! AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO GETS A FEEELIN?? a feelin that this is SCREAMING denial?! Its giving...
Chloe: Ellaaaa.... this girl im talkn to is SOOO HHHOOOOTT and PRETTY and cool and stuff but ugh.... SHE EEEVILLL!!
Ella: oh my gosh.. STFU. Shes prolly not even that evil ill prove it smh..
*get ur hands dirty starts playing. No exaggeration. No cap.*
"Okay, but there's some universal truths you must recognize." "Like?"
"Valiant knights, pure and good, guaranteed" "That depends on what they're fighting for"
"Creepy witches selling potions for evil deeds" "She could have kids she's providing for"
"If your good-good things will come to you"
MORE denial, Chloe wants to be friends with Red SO bad she looks stupid, but she brings herself back by trying to prove to herself that she's evil and they SHOULDN'T be that close. Which also is a big sign of comphet and heteronormativity, i would know 🧍 (which is a post for another day i might make. Prolly 2 prove that Chloe is a lesbian in deep comphet)
"But just how far do you go? How much do you compromise? Oh, tell me, how do you know. Where do you draw the line?"
"There's nothing I wouldn't do. If my heart tells me it's right. If it's for someone I love. If it's to save a life."
"To save your life."
Further deepening the trope i mentioned. The first line could be interpreted as a double meaning since the song is kind of mostly about Chloe coming to terms with the fact Red isn't really evil or as bad as she thought, plus the argument of where the line between evil and good is. It could refer to Red or Ella, maybe both, but Ella changes the meaning with her own experiences so it drifts off the focus from Red because we cant have ANYTHING 🤧 but i still believe Chloe intended it to be for Red since the entire song is really just for the progress of their relationship n stuff.
Now this could definitely all be in my head, yes, Disney would most likely NEVER canonize or even imply heavily a queer relationship or anything lgbtq on a pre established franchise (cowards.). But there is always a chance.... deep inside the dark heart of the mouse..
Plus, with the subtle hints here and there of Red and Chloe's relationship growing, romantically or not, they are still super close and love eachother alot. Chloe is js (kinda) canonically a girl kisser who cant help but find a girl kissable (same)
And don't get me started on this movie and its obsession with love and proving how it is not "ain't it". Hello...? They set the tone of love, but i see NO person close enough to Red established for this message (other than Chloe) and if they introduce some random guy in the next movies, NO ONE would care nor would they want it unless somehow its 100x better than redcharming, but thats impossible cz wlw 4 life.
So, this entire thingy is me basically finding scraps and wanting to provr that charminghearts IS canon and WILL be established soon! (Im delulu)
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helloitstsyu · 1 year
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i got you | Tom Cruise
My masterlist
Fluff, kind of an angst too, i guess. Requested by @grantaires-waistcoat I'm so sorry this takes so long. Hope you like it🤍
Tom Cruise x young!costar!reader
Summary : Set to film a stunt, you had a panic attack, and Tom helps you to get through it.
Warning : this might be triggering for some, so beware. panic!attack, swear words.
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BUM. BUM. BUM.
"Y/N?... Y/N!" Stella keeps banging the door.
The banging is on the door yet you feel it thumping on your heart. You feel your breath is short and heavy. Your head spinning, sweats dripping on your temples as your chest heaves. Cold water running on your terribly shaking hand, trying to calm yourself, you keep repeating to your reflection on the small mirror.
"It's nothing. You can do this. You've prepared. You can do this."
You look at yourself in the mirror. Your face is pale. You're completely terrified. You're about to hang yourself off a cliff. Yes, you've rehearse a lot. But this is no Rockreaction in Los Angeles. There's no mattress at the bottom. There's no safety net going to catch you if you fall. This is rocky mountainside in Utah. The only thing that'll determine your life and death is the harness that'll be attached on you. One snap of the line, you're gone.
"Arrghh!" You grunt all frustratingly to yourself. "The fuck is wrong with you. Why do i even agreed to this!"
You're a newcomer. You've only done a couple of family drama for some TV station and a thriller movie for a streaming site. There's a couple of stunt for the thriller, but no stunt like Mission Impossible. This is a damn blockbuster, well produced franchise. And the fact that you're here locking yourself inside of a bathroom, being a chicken, while everyone else is ready to shoot the scene is just enhancing your stress for the moment.
"Y/N! What the hell are you doing in there?! Come on, we don't get all day!" Stella, the assistant director keeps banging on your door.
"Coming!" You shout.
Wiping your sweaty forehead, you hope the cold water could cover the spook on your face.
Coming out of the bathroom, you're surprised to find your leading man and boss is on the front of the door. Tom looks at you deeply, reading your face.
"You okay, kid?" Tom asks.
You nod, hiding your nerve all that you can. Going outside of the trailer. Stella brought you to the edge of the cliff, where's the stunt team will prepare you with the safety harness and all. Looking all around you the crew is all busy and occupied with their own stuff. Everyone seems to move so fast but yet also somehow so slow.
Tom comes to you, with a wide grin on his face, "Ready to be a spiderman, kid?" He asks with both of his hands on his hips.
You barely hear what he said, high-pitched sound is ringing in your ear covering what he has to say. Despite the breezy wind blowing around, you feel like you couldn't get an air to your lungs. Eyeing the edge of the cliff, the ground below is not even to your eye reach. You can feel your heartbeating right to your head.
"Kid... you're here?... you okay?" Tom starts to notice you're not doing alright.
Slowly, your eyes are back to Tom's. He worries. "Y/N?" He steps closer to you. And there you finally breaks, in a beat, your legs falls limp as if they didn't work. You fall but Tom's quick to catch you before the impact. You're panting hard, your chest burns. Tears blocking your eyesight. High-pitched sound ringing loudly in your ear, completely blocking everything else. All you see is so bright. The sun behind Tom's face is so bright like it pierces your eyes.
"Y/N... Y/N... look at me, look at me." Tom holds you close.
"I'm right here. It's okay, it's going to be okay.. I'm right here." You hold onto his hand, grasping them in between your two much smaller palm.
"Breathe, come on, breathe with me, kid." Tom calmly tells you, like he knows exactly what to do to help you. He takes your hand and put it to your chest. The other one he brings to his chest. "Breathe.. come on, slowly..."
You can feel your heart pounding in your hand. Yours beat like a marching band while his is set in a calm pace, like a rhythm. You follow his instructions, taking a deep breath slowly, one at a time. Tom nods. "There you go, that's my girl. Come on, one more time," he encourages.
And so you do as he tells, following his lead, you take a deep inhale and slowly exhaling. Once he manage to get you calmer, he takes you back inside the trailer.
Setting you to sit on the couch, he kneels in front of you.
When the panic attack is gone, now you feel the burning tears making its way to flood out. One look of those soft emerald eyes and you can't bear the guilt to get the best of you.
"I--- " you struggle to say it out loud. I'm sorry, is what you want to say. But without you have to say it, Tom knows. Tom understands. More than anyone else, he understands.
"It's okay.." Tom holds your hand.
Though the watergate has opened. Tom quickly wipes your tears away. "It's okay, you don't have to do it. It's alright."
What he said only makes it worse. You're sobbing right in front of the man, tears running like a waterfall. "I'm sorry.. i can't– i can't do it.." you cry. "I don't know what's wrong with me,"
"Oh, sweetheart," Tom sits next to you and pulls you to his chest. He wraps his hand protectively around you. "Nothing is wrong with you. You don't have to be sorry. It's okay, you don't have to do it."
Tom strokes your hair. Caressing you ever so gently, comforting you in the best way possible.
"It's okay... you'll be okay... I got you, babygirl," he whispers.
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gh0stbeeee · 10 months
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Rise of the Guardians/The Guardians of Childhood is low-key my Roman Empire.
Like, specifically in the movie verse, there's just... so much that was never elaborated on. It's one of the unfortunate side effects of being kid's media, things get dumbed down for no reason.
Like, Jack Frost in general as a character. He died. DIED. He DROWNED in a pond saving his sister and??? Nothing. The entire moment when he remembered became "Oh I'm the fun guy that had a family and saved my sister!" AND DIED. Very important part that is completely glossed over other than the idea of sacrifice. Like, the other guardians were "chosen," did they not die too? Did Jack lose his memories because he died, but the others were chosen while alive, chose to leave their lives and remembered?
And just, what were his early years? For a very long time, at least a decade, he probably thought he was totally invisible, that he could never have a true conversation with another person, because I doubt that he stumbled upon another spirit/legend for a while.
Like, that would have driven him INSANE. There's no way he wouldn't be super socially awkward from the isolation, much less just totally mentally well. Are spirit's brains built different? They'd have to be, but I don't think they should be able to withstand that level. Like what was the mim thinking??? Seriously just abandoned a TEENAGER he resurrected with no memory or possibility of support, that's wrong.
And on that note, let me reiterate that Jack died. In front of his little sister. Who had to go back home and tell her family what happened. Did he have a father too? More siblings? Friends and family? They had a funeral no doubt, mourned him. Because he died.
The worst part? He was right there. The whole time. Jack came back to that pond and settlement for hundreds of years, even when it became Burgress. He probably watched his funeral not knowing what was going on, saw his family mourn him without knowing it was for him. He was there when they died, not knowing who they were to him. Did he realize later on? I can only imagine the devastation.
The worst part is Manny probably had to take his memories, because Jack would have been DEPRESSED. He would've tried everything to make them believe, and they probably never would. His parents would probably never see him again, they were adults. His sister was plausible, but she's still mortal. She would have died, Jack would have seen his little sister grow old and die while he stayed eternally young. He might've not ever recovered from that, mim taking his memories distanced him from the pain for when he remembered 300 years later.
But he also could have moved on, grown and loved her descendants and honored her. The mim took that choice away, and that's pretty fucked up.
Then yeah, 300 years of pretty much no acknowledgement. Going into live blind with no guidance or memories, trying to figure yourself out but being ignored by the once who brought you here. Jack would realistically be a little nutty, because wow. It's shown the even other spirits didn't really talk to him, he made them acknowledge him by playing pranks and pissing them off till they confronted him. Maybe it's in spirit's nature to be recluses, but it's not in Jack's. He wanted attention and to be seen, but no one wanted to or could give it to him.
That's why Jamie seeing him for the first time always makes me tear up. This is the first time for HUNDREDS of years that a human has acknowledged him, not an out of touch spirit, but a regular person Jack can connect with, that chose to see him, to believe. That's beautiful, and special.
There's just so many layers to this story that we never got to see, and I'm forever sad DreamWorks abandoned the franchise.
(If anyone has any good fics that explore topics like this, especially Jack's family, please share)
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bookishdaze · 5 months
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Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes Review. More like Rambling and Word Vomiting.
I saw it last night. Finally. After so long!
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I personally thought it was good, and a solid addition to the POTA franchise. I don't think it's better than Dawn or War, but I'm willing to bet that by the time the full trilogy is out, Kingdom is gonna be looked back upon as a good beginning to Noa and Mae's story, the same way Rise, despite being most people's least favorite of the Caesar trilogy, is still an amazing intro to Caesar's story.
Some nitpicks. Despite the movie being 2.5 hours long, I felt like the final act came too fast? Like, I understand what people meant with the pacing issue. Suddenly we were in the 3rd act and I was like "Wait, we're here? It's done?"
Now, onto the characters! Let the fangirling commence!
Noa
I loved seeing how his journey and character started and where he ends by the end of the movie.
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Him going from "That is the law" to "That is the law. But the law is wrong" was so satisfying.
And him being able to call the eagles to him by the end was great to see. By the way, THE SINGING SCENE WITH THE EAGLES???? LIKE???? It could've been so corny but I LOVED IT???
I'm so glad this movie answered the question of whether apes can sing. Yeah, I know they are only humming, but I'LL TAKE IT. APES CAN SING. YESSSS!
He was just a really nice character to follow. I can't wait to see how he'll be like in the next movie after the events of this one transformed him.
I also think he is the kind of protagonist we need after Caesar. I love Caesar, but Noa is....hmm, I guess you could say softer? More naive? I'm sure he'll get tougher as the movies progress like Caesar did, but I like this change.
Mae
I am a Mae defender. Yes, she did betray Noa in the end. I expected her to tbh. And I understand why she did it. She was right in that Proximus getting his hands on those weapons would've been disastrous.
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She has probably been taught all her life nothing but bad things about the apes. She was not going to switch sides just because she met Noa. We still got two whole movies after this. She probably won't have her "redemption" until the 3rd movie. I can honestly go on rambling about her, but I'd rather save that for another separate post.
Raka
I really like him. He's great and funny. I love seeing how he talks about humans and his hopes for humans and apes.
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Right before he dies, he reminds Noa "Together, strong." His final words and his necklace as a gift to Noa serve as a reminder. A reminder of a hopeful future where apes and humans can coexist. (And then Noa passing along that same necklace to Mae? Bringing a reminder of that hope for peace into her world? Ugh. So good.)
Also, "He was my village." LIKE. DID HE LOSE HIS PARTNER? MY HEART.
Proximus
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I thought he was cool. He gave my mother and I a jump scare at the dinner scene where he slams his fist. Also, the way he was just in awe of the gun after Lightning dies. He has his priorities.
Soona and Anaya
Those two were so cute, and I loved their friendship with Noa.
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Anaya broke my heart. In the beginning at the tunnel scene, he's all like "Anaya is not scared." But at Proximus's kingdom, he looks terrified at the dinner scene, and before he goes on the mission to climb the wall, he goes "Anaya is scared" and didn't want to go. Poor guy. He pulled through in the end though.
Although *puts on tinfoil hat* this makes me wonder if this foreshadows how his fear will lead him to make a big mistake in the future movies. Similar to what happened with Winter.
Soona was so sweet. Although I'm disappointed we didn't get more of her with Noa. I saw an interview where Soona's actress described a moment where after they are reunited, they kind of make known their feelings for each other or something like that. But...it didn't happen?
Mae and Noa
Alrighty, I'm gonna briefly put on my shipping goggles on, bear with me, because one has to be a teensy bit delusional for this type of stuff, BUT....
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I sensed a....vibe? Not a romantic vibe. They are nowhere close to that yet. But I felt like there were tropes and scenes between them that simply imply a romantic path is a possible direction for their relationship. I will make a separate post about them. I wanna wrap this up, lol.
The ending
I liked the ending. It has me so excited for the future of this trilogy. Now that the humans are able to communicate with others, what will this mean? How will Mae be torn between her people and the apes? Same with Noa? I need to know naooooo
8.5/10 stars (I ain't done rambling about this movie yet. But it's my birthday, and I gotta go out and have some dinner, hehe).
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Chucky headcanons: Charles finding out you are being harassed at your workplace (requested)
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Warnings: Implied sexual harassment leading to assault and Chucky avenging the reader. The description of the abuser was especified by the requester.
Notes: I didn't properly proofread this cause i'm finishing writing from my phone and i don't have my translator on it. Also, this is the first male reader request i got and i hope i'm doing it justice :) My inspiration for this were bits of the series and the Curse deleted scene where Chucky kills Daniel. Despite being two different versions of Chucky at different points of the franchise, i found both usefull to imagine this.
-At first you were very afraid to tell Chucky of what was happening to you. You know he has volatile, violent reactions and you were afraid of what that could unleash.
-Your abuser was a coworker and it all started in little hints, jokes going a bit too far and confusing episodes that left you feeling like it all could be a misunderstanding.
-The accumulation of those ' misunderstandings' changed your perception and you started to be very afraid of being left alone with him. You were feeling constantly surveiled and terrified but the source of your fear was completely invisible to everyone arround you.
-The creepy old dude harassing you was a long term employee everyone knew. Even you were deceived by him at first, at least untill he started getting too " friendly" with you.
-Chucky perceived something was wrong. Not that you have allways been super passionate about your work, but he could tell you didn't want to go there anymore. You would allways deny every of his attempts to point out you weren't alright. He just wanted to help, but you wouldn't let him.
-He may not be the best talking about feelings, but he is very protective and he hates to see you suffering. You may think he didn't, but he realized you are terrified. He knows the signs of fear in a victim too well to not spot those.
-In the first discussions your position oscilated between denying everything and begging him not to interfere because you needed the job, but the situation kept escalating untill reaching a point of no return.
-You were supposed to pick up a few boxes from the warehouse. While you were searching for the stuff you didn't realized you were being followed inside. You ended up completely alone with your abuser and he cornered you, taking advantage of your shock, then easily overpowered you.
-That was the moment in which you knew it had to stop. As soon as you could you reached the phone to call Chucky.
-You tried to explain yourself, but couldn't get into details. All he heard clearly was your wrecked voice begging him to come pick you up.
- It was the sign he was waiting for. Not that Chucky needed any permission to do it, but he didn't want to upset you and he had been craving to step in for so long.
- Only that his intervention could have one single possible end and you were aware of it, which was the cause of your refusal. Chucky wouldn't just scare him, he was not going to let the job unfinished.
- He had killed for way less, you could be sure he was 100% ready to get revenge in your name.
-By that moment he was aware. He has passed by your workplace a few times and had seen the dude. You wouldn't have to tell him anything for him to spot your " friendly " coworker is a creep, he could smell it from a mile away.
- Chucky has been stalking the place behind your back, learning his schedule and following him outside to figure out his after work habits. He had it in mind all along.
- " Don't worry, I'm coming for ya." He interrupted your rambling on the phone with macabre excitement. " ... I got you, let me handle it."
-You stoicly endured the rest of your shift with the only comfort of knowing he would show up, but it was taking too long.
- He was going after your abuser, following him out. They already knew each other and he wouldn't suspect of anything when approached.
- During the last moments of his life he made him experience the exact kind of powerlessness he made you feel. Chucky utilized his trusting appearance to deceive him into keeping a lower guard, followed him like a shadow and cornered him in a spot where no one could hear him.
- " This goes for (y/n). Did you think you were gonna get away with it, you piece of shit? Is that what gets you going? " He mockfully asked him ríght after the first stab. " Well this is what gets ME going and you ain't messing with him anymore"
- The lifeless body of your attacker was still in the trunk of his car when he arrived to pick you up.
- It was his surprise for you and that night you helped him dump it in the river.
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funishment-time · 2 months
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long DR post of the day
everyone is free to have their own DR Opinions forever, but it hurts my heart a bit when people say Kodaka hates or favors X character because half the time it's...Patently Wrong. i mean objectively.
like, as an example per the DR1 art book, Hifumi's his (and Komatsuzaki's) absolute favorite, hands down. i don't expect everyone to go looking for the fan translations of the art books or anything but i also wouldn't seriously say something like "yeah so i know Hifumi's just there to be the Fat Comic Relief that no one likes" without doing a bit of research first. that is not a thesis that holds
Kodaka created all these characters with love by his own admission. these are His Blorbos and he is the main person directing all the writing on them. (seriously. go look up the DR credit rolls on the main franchise games. this isn't a team in a board room Doing Things For Marketing, this is him overseeing people teasing out his outline with his little guys.)
anyway. to him, they are all main characters: i'm not making shit up and assuming something about a Random Middle Aged Japanese Guy, this is fact. see his BlueSky stuff, see the fact that he does birthday Tweets in-character for almost every character still every year, or see his lecture from 10ish years ago on character creation. (it's online, and translated as it was done here in America. i'll have to find the link and add a reblog when i do)
now: this doesn't mean the characters' writing isn't XYZ Problematic Thing in execution, no pun intended. but in terms of intent, sometimes the fans' assumptions aren't right, esp if it's kind of a rude one.
another example: the one that makes me the most sad is when folks genuinely assume Kaede was there just to be a sexist girl death in service to Shuichi's character development and nothing more. in execution? we can debate all day 'n' night about it. that's fine, that's worthy of essays. as for intent? Kodaka STILL gets emotional when her birthday trends. her Japanese VA was his friend (source: V3 artbook), was Junko's stage show actress, and unfortunately committed suicide in 2021. let's not contribute to the attitudes of the folks that spam him demanding he apologize for murdering Shuichi's girlfriend for his Man Pain, huh?
i fall victim to making Serious Assumptions about creators too! no one's perfect! but i think we could all stand to see if our initial theses actually hold first
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dr-spectre · 19 days
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So brainwashed Callie in official content is cringe. Do you feel the same about it in Fanfiction? Have there been any takes on Hypno Callie that you enjoyed?
Honestly? I don't feel the same way about it in fanfiction. There's a lot of information and different takes floating around about certain things in the franchise so I dont necessarily blame people for using the word "brainwashed" for Callie in their fanfiction. The English localisation of Splatoon has said she was brainwashed despite other languages and the original Japanese version not using the word. At least from my own knowledge. So I get why most fans would take that information and immediately believe it's true.
Plus there's more people talking about what actually happened to Callie on twitter and tumblr which is really incredible to see!!! Im so happy to see Callie being treated with more respect!!!!! It is a night and day difference compared to the treatment in 2017 to 2020.
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Surprisingly enough I don't actually consume a lot of fanfiction. I can read my own writing easily but I can't read others that well and... I feel really bad about it... but I have read a bit of this one fanfiction that got Hypno Callie 99% right. I fucking forgot the name but i was recommended it by someone in the past, it had "dome" in the name? It was about DJ Octavio and the Octarian domes.
The way they explained the shades was actually really interesting and unique! It's basically shades that play catchy music and that's how Callie got hypnotised. It fits in line with DJ Octavio too as he's well... a DJ. Plus daydreaming and listening to music goes hand in hand so it has some basis in reality too. Everyone at some point has been put into a daydream state when vibing out to music.
Although I say 99% because there's this one line that Callie says, "Are these shades brainwashing me?" And it was so clunky I'm sorry LOL. And there's this implication that its also doing something further to Callie's brain but it's not that explained well, which i really dont like. Other than that, my Hypno Callie content is mainly fanart and 99% of that has been phenomenonal and powerful stuff.
However.... my biggest fucking gripe in "fan content" if you wanna call it that is... timeline videos and people going over plot details and stuff like that.
These people actually do RESEARCH and spend a lot of time analysing the story of Splatoon and trying to put the pieces together. Yet for Callie it feels like they just do a quick read through of Inkipedia and that's it because they dont give a flying fuck about her character. It drives me fucking psychotic and i cant be safe watching Splatoon videos anymore. How hard is it to say hypnotised? HOW HARD IS IT?!?!?! JUST USE THAT WORD!!! THATS ALL YOU HAVE TO DO!!! GOD DAMN!!!! DO YOU EVEN KNOW THE MEANING OF THE WORD BRAINWASHED AT ALL?!?!?!
It's really disappointing to me that this outdated timeline video is the ONLY VIDEO to say Callie was hypnotised and not "brainwashed." And that... makes me kinda pissed off.
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YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THE CHOSEN ONE!!!!
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YOU TOO!!!!
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I can't even watch these videos anymore man. I'm sad. I'm not even trying to send hate over to them, they put in a lot of work... except for a character I really care about....
Imagine you like a particular character and you feel really strongly about them. Now Imagine people saying wrong or yucky things about that character and treating it as fact despite you knowing "Hey something is not right here. I think there's more here than people realise." And all the most popular and well liked content is spreading that kind of information around about your favourite character. It would drive you crazy yeah? I'm sure everyone has that one character in every fanbase.
Anyways, thanks for the ask! Sorry if it was long... I tend to ramble about Hypno Callie LOL! (Autism)
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rise-my-angel · 2 months
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I blame the idea of the spectacle for the downfall in the franchise. Don't get me wrong, big moments can be great, but the constant striving for it to keep the audience addicted to adrenaline is what has caused the really shallow writing in my opinion. It takes a really self aware person to realise they are getting nothing but CGI keys jangled in their face as if they were a baby.
I think that's what the earlier seasons achieved, the perfect mix of much quieter moments with effective use of dialogue, writing and set to get their money's worth, and the big dramatic moments for the later parts, where they save their best for last and bring EVERYTHING to the table. It's all about having money to fund the big moments, vs having barely enough money to cover everything.
You have no idea how thrilled I am that you said everything I was thinking. The thing I hate about reviews of HOTD so far is how good things look. The dragon fight in episode four, oh but it looked so spectacular. But that's the thing, their effort was put all into making that fight look as wonderful as possible so that it avoided the simple fact that the story, characters, and action were all poor.
My best example, is actually probably unpopular beacuse I know people really liked the Battle of the Bastards. And I did too, the action cinematography, the chaos, one of my favorite shots of the show where the camera does a long take just following Jon through the chaos as he experiences it. It also looks good, they clearly made a great effort to make the battle as cinematic as possible.
But here's the thing. Hardhome is better. Hardhome does NOT look as good as the Battle of the Bastards. It is very chaotic, it is disorienting, fast paced, a lot of cuts and its very loud and there are so many bodies in the scene that it feels hard to keep track of how many people are even dying around them. But that's the point.
Hardhome takes you on a journey of chaos.
It's like a 20 minute sequence with an amazing build up. The meeting with the elders, it's a dark room of people standing around a fire. It doesn't look good, now it doesn't look bad it just isn't a cinematically pleasing shot. But it's over six minutes long of mostly Jon giving everything he has into convincing these people that he's being genuine. It's his passion and his raw honesty that Jon looks his enemy in the eye and tells them that they deserve to survive and that he wants to protect them. How when they ask how Mance Rayder died, Jon does not give himself an out. He is honest and says he shot an arrow in his heart, and how he stands there firm and not afraid when they start to threaten him, only to have Tormund put a stop to it and give context. Looking these parents and grandparents in the eye and telling them that if they don't let him protect them, their children won't even survive long enough to have children of their own. And pleading that even with all of them it may not be enough but "At least we'll give the fuckers a fight."
It is a fantastic scene filled with hope, that sets the stage for whats about to happen.
There's no dwelling on shots. The moment Longclaw clashes with the weapon of the Walker, Jon realizing whats happened and actually killing it occurs really fast in a manner of seconds. What it dwells on, is the aftermath of Jon so overwhelmed by what happened he falls to his knees, the snow misting around him that blurs anyone else from view. Even the moment where the Walker raises his arms and the dead rise, is not a dwelled on, cinematic shot. It is very raw, and rough and what it focuses on, is that close up of Jons face. And the realization in him of shock turning to a desperate despair that he could've gotten all of the Free Folk out of there and it still wouldn't be enough. It focuses on his face, beacuse the intensity and emotions are about him. Not the shots.
You remember the visuals of it, but really, the visuals aren't what gives you the emotions. Hardhome was not shot to be visually appealing, it was by design, extremely chaotic and overwhelming because not a single person in that fight had a chance to get the upper hand.
Battle of the Bastards on the other hand, is a cinematically amazing battle with a terrible story. The stakes mean nothing, because the story to get there was inconsistent, nonsensical, some people acting completely out of character and is won because of a deus ex machina. The story and characters surrounding it are completely not worth the quality of the battle itself. It's shallow. It's remembered as good because it looked good, not beacuse it was good.
That to me, is the House of the Dragon problem. Such a focus on making it look good, sweeping shots and amazing cinematic focus especially on the dragons, but it runs hollow. Because what do you have beyond the good looking shots? It's rare I ever feel the emotions of whats happening more then I do what the spectacle is showing me is happening.
The worth of a lot of these scenes, are rooted in a desperation to make a visually appealing story. When Game of Thrones was at it's best when it was people standing or sitting around a room and talking. It was the dialogue, the mystery, the intrigue. We never needed beautiful visuals for our eyes to feast upon because the spectacle was always in service of what the actual emotions of the scene was portraying. Not the stand out part in and of itself.
There's nothing wrong with spectacle alone, but House of the Dragon is relying on it to push through it's worst parts and hoping that the nice images and pretty colors is distracting enough that you forgive the poor story. Yeah the story and characters and writing is bad, but boy those dragons, look at them.
General audiences will fall for spectacle beacuse we appreciate good visuals, but general audiences didn't need spectacle to get them through season one of Game of Thrones. They were confident enough in what they already had, that they did not need to pad out the visual fluff to feast the eyes rather then the writing feasting the brain.
Audiences are smarter then to value visuals over writing, but House of the Dragon fans are relying on the visuals to get them through the bad writing because they have nothing left, and really, they deserve better.
I do not need spectacle to be impressed by the immense scale of a scene. Hardhome is a fast paced, confusing and chaotic sequence that has never left me since the day I watched it air live. Not a single one of these grand moments in either season of House of the Dragon, despite having more chances to use it's visuals to enhance it's storytelling, has come anywhere near as smart as Hardhome was.
Visuals do not impress me. Using the visuals to enhance the story you already are telling, is what impresses me.
Not using your visuals as a crutch to power through bad storytelling.
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Text
Missed Communication [Time x Fem!OC x Malon]
In which Time has met his match in the least flattering way possible and Malon has custody of all the brain cells.
A.K.A Time and OC are idiots and Malon's their only saving grace.
Masterlist
Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise. Linked Universe is the fan creation of jojo56830.
---
This was not how I thought my first visit to Lon Lon Ranch would go.
Maybe a friendly greeting with Time's Misses, a few laughs with the boys and then a well placed excuse to escape the chronic awkwardness (and unease) that seems to dominate my every interaction with the Hero of Time these days.
Not. This. Whatever this is.
---
Our first meeting had been as normal and pleasant as any magic portal driven meeting could be. That is to say, not normal at all but pleasant regardless. Just really, really weird.
The older Hero and I had just clicked, despite this. His nonchalant deadpanned humor matched well with my well-placed instigation and soft-spoken wit. It helped that I was (physically) his age and boosted a maturity surpassing that of most of his charges.
Also, he was handsome as sin. Like, painfully pretty. Don't get me wrong, objectively all the boys were beautiful, but the mature set of Time's jaw and the faint lines around his eyes just stroked the woman in me.
Man has dilf himbo energy in spades. The whole damned package.
Malon was a lucky woman indeed.
The first few months of our aquatince was warm, simple and steeped in a growing trust that grew with each exasperated sideward glance and fond smile shared over the boys' heads. He was, in the truest meaning of the word, my friend. I dare even say a good one.
And then it happened.
That damned fortune teller.
The beginning of the end of our budding friendship. Stopped dead in it's tracks in less than the span of a breath.
I don't know what she'd told him that day, and he wouldn't tell, but it changed something fundimental in the bond I'd thought we'd shared. Now, he can hardly stand to look at me most days, let alone have a full converstion.
And I'm...just so lost.
It hurts, the sudden distance. So unexpected. One moment we're sleeping next to each other each night, whispering fondly about his beloved wife and my beloved pets, and the next an entire fire and six bedrolls lay between us.
But what can I do. He'd made his stance clear, silent though it may be, and who am I to cling to a friendship I was the only one harboring. It wasn't fair to him, and it most certainly wasn't fair to me.
So, I let it go. Just stayed in the back of the group where our paths wouldn't have to cross and began to forge new friendships among the boys. And honestly, I'm still enjoying myself among this gaggle of sweet, overly protective gremlins. Despite whatever misfortune (or miscommunication) caused this rift between Time and I.
Case in point, Legend might just be the funniest guy I've met in a long time and I'm glad I've had the opportunity to grow closer to him. Even if his words sometimes bite a little too close to home. Though Hyrule's quiet concern over the strained interaction between thier unofficial leader and myself often leaves me feeling guilty. His large, inquiring eyes and soft, sympathetic smile enough to shake a woman down to the bones.
Such sensitive boys, all of them.
I wish I'd had answers for them.
Especially when it all took an even deeper nosedive when Time recieved a letter from his wife. Standard fair but for the way his eye had hooded and cut towards me for just the briefest of moments, focused and cold.
Had I not been looking around the group as I had in that moment, I would have missed it entirely. But be it fate or luck (ill though it may have been) I had unintentionally made eye contact with him.
It was the first time in all my interactions with the Chain that I felt...
...afraid. Of him.
But it was gone as soon as it happened. Seemingly a simple misread flicker of the firelight, but for the way my heart stood cold in my chest for the rest of the night afterward.
And many more nights to follow.
So, upon exiting the portal to the wide pastures of a land I pegged to be Time's, I steeled myself. Against what, I wasn't sure, but I was on his home turf now and he certainly didn't seem to want me around. So, I'd imagine he'd take exception to my presence in his home.
But nothing could have prepared me for...
"Goodness! Why, aren't ya just the sweetest thing! All doe eyed and honey dew smile! Dear! Why didn't you tell me she'd be such a darling!"
Malon.
She took to me like a bee to pollen, a moth to light. She locked her arm with mine immediately and refused to budge, even as she embraced the boys one by one. Her dark blue eyes were glimmering (like the surface of deep water) and hair shining in the sunlight. Sun-kissed face glowing with wonder and delight. The freckles on her cheeks charming across her sweat slicked skin.
She was wonderful. She was beautiful.
I was terrified.
I couldn't bring myself to look in Time's direction. I didn't think my heart would survive what I'd find.
I was afraid to see that cold, focused eye ripping though my soul again, as though staring down an enemy.
I made my excuses early, feigning weariness, much to Melon's dismay. She took it well enough though. Called me a delicate, spring flower. Showed me to the guests rooms, offered me my own. I refused (I wanted to stay with the boys. She seemed charmed by the admission). Touched my hand with such warmth, was slow to withdraw.
I smiled at her, small but grateful, hesitant. My heart was hammering in my chest. The hairs on the back of my neck rose at the feeling of a stare on the side of my face.
She smiled back, seemingly eager for my tentative gestures of friendship. So very sincere, radiating the kind of adoration a person spends their whole lives searching for.
I didn't look to her right. I didn't look up nor  over her shoulder. I kept my eyes on hers, entranced by their dark colors and the little sparks of life dancing within depths but afraid to tell her so.
She was absolutely gorgeous and I was so smitten and so very fucked.
I hoped my face didn't give me away. I prayed that my eyes didn't reveal my thoughts.
When her eyes crinkled at the corners, I knew I'd failed.
I bid them a good evening.
Even as I'd closed the door I could still feel his gaze on me.
I stayed in the room all that evening and all through the night. Four was sweet enough to bring me a plate of dinner, and I was once again so grateful to be in the company of such caring young men.
I really, really was.
That night I slept with Hyrule curled against my back, trying to be the best big spoon he could. Sky was at his, the whole damned ladle to encompass us both within his arms. Legend at our feet, his hand curled loosely around Sky's half rumpled sock and face scrunched in discontent, fingers occasionally twitching around the fabric.
I loved them all so much.
---
Then things got weird.
I exited the room the next morning before the majority of the boys had even left their bedrolls and found Time waiting at the end of the hallway. He was wearing a plain off-white shirt and dark pants.
He looked good. Relaxed, almost, but for the tension in his shoulders when he caught sight of me. The reminder was enough to tear my eyes from him and keep my gaze lowered as I moved steadily to walk passed him.
"Hey." The sound of his voice startled me, so long has it been since it was directed towards me.
He sounded awkward and I wanted to ease that awkwardness. I did not have the strength to, however. I was a coward.
And hurt. Very, very hurt.
Petty.
"Yes?" I eventually said after the stilted silence had carried on too long, unable to keep watching this strong man (this good man, still, for all we were at odds) struggling to continue.
His one good eye tried to meet my gaze, feather soft and regretful in my peripheral, so very vulnerable under my carefully blank stare fixated on his cheek.
"I know I don't deserve it, and you need not accept, but I'd like to properly apologize for the way I've treated you in the recent weeks." He finally managed, voice laden with an emotion I couldn't fully place but thought sounded suspiciously like grief. "If you'd allow me, may I please escort you to the kitchen?"
I wanted to say no. I wanted to stay silent. I wanted to be petty.
I wanted Sky to stop worrying about me. I wanted Twilight to stop repenting to me. I wanted Hyrule to stop fretting for me. I wanted Warriors to stop defending me. I wanted Wild to stop raging for me. I wanted Legend to stop hurting for me.
I wanted...I just wanted...
I just wanted my friend back.
I wanted to feel safe again.
"Okay."
I've always been such a fool for vulnerable men.
Tentatively, he offered his arm, eye soft and resigned from the corner of my vision. Waiting for me to reject him, I realized, wanting me to express my rage the only way he knew I'd allow myself. Wanting to be punished accordingly for having suddenly scorned my friendly gestures and inquiring whispers.
What a fool man. Such a damned idiot.
Guess that makes two of us.
I took his arm, fighting down the wave of unease and spite that pushed against my throat. His arm was warm and solid under my tentative touch, barely restrained power coursing under the cloth and skin. I'd nearly forgotten how his shoulders seemed wide enough to carry the weight of the world.
No. No I hadn't. In the quiet of the night, when the unease and uncertainty were strongest, sometimes I wondered if that might would one day snuff the light from my eyes.
I wondered if he'd cry in remorse afterwards. If he'd feel anything at all.
He wouldn't. He wouldn't feel a thing because he'd never do that and I knew it. Wouldn't have been fighting for breathing room between Sky and Hyrule's smothering heat if he'd had any intent to remove me from their lives. Wouldn't have been cradling Wind's small head between the soft valley of my breasts if he'd deemed me dangerous or unsavory or suspicious.
I may have fallen out of his favor, but he loved his boys with a fierce and zealous devotion. He'd never let harm befall them, be it body, soul or tenderly beating hearts.
He'd have cut me down long ago if he ever meant to. To spare his boys the pain of loss.
The kitchen was bright and smelled faintly of herbs when we entered, my arm still folded gently with Time's.
Malon was there, enchanting red hair down around her shoulders and eyes bright, despite the early hour. The faint crease lines of pillow marks reddened the soft curve of her cheek, stark even against the spread of her freckles.
She smiled at me, tired and fond, before pinning her husband with an intense, expectant stare. The set of her mouth and brow was carefully neutral, but the fire in her eyes gave away her true feelings.
She was mad. Not livid or spiteful or even disappointed, just mad.
She was scarier for it. I could tell she wasn't the type of woman to go off on a rampage and say or do anything that would deminish the validity of her own arguements or feelings. She was probably the type of woman to say exactly what she means and how she feels without embellishment nor doubt. She seemed the type of person you couldn't find fault in their anger, because it was perfectly supported by their words and actions.
Noticing this, I almost felt bad for Time and how thoroughly he was probably admonished to make him this compliant after weeks of silence and avoidance. Almost. Mostly I just felt a hesitant spark of validation and kinship with Malon, even as confusion and caution swirled in my chest.
Why? Why was this even happening in the first place? Why this sudden atmosphere around the couple?
They loved each other so much. They missed each other so much. Before- that happened, Time never shied away from expressing his feelings regarding his wife. Nor what she'd written to him in turn.
What happened? What did she see between Time and I that would bring her scrutiny down on her beloved husband? For a woman she didn't even know?
Time led me to the chairs closest to where Malon was leaning against the counter, loosening his grip enough for me to remove my arm from his. It seemed to be another conscious decision on his part, to not pull away and to allow me to be in control of our proximity. Honestly, it was sweet he was trying so hard, and had it been before all of...this, I certainly would have swooned at the effort he was making.
I steeled myself against the warm feeling trying to take root in my stomach though, and instead took a seat at the counter.
"Good mornin', darlin'. You sleep well?" Malon asked softly, eyes warm and sleep dry lips pulled into a tired but inviting smile.
I nodded, before managing to speak around the lump in my throat. "Yes. Thank you for having us, Ms. Malon. I apologize for retiring early last night. The road left me quite weary. You and your husband's hospitality is most appreciated."
I noticed a spark of something glinting in Malon's dark eyes, before it was soothed down with a bright smile. "Now, now! There's no need for that, dear! You're always welcome here!"
She looked to her husband then, and when I instinctively followed her gaze, I wasn't expecting what I saw.
His jaw was clenched, betraying the- false- smoothness of his brow and relaxed curve of his ears. He was upset, but trying to reign it in and project a calm front. The lines around his eye gave him away though.
He looked hurt. Gazing into Malon's eyes with a lost expression.
What was happening?
I couldn't take it anymore. This underline tension and these confusing actions and feelings being tossed over my head. Like fists full of powder clogging my senses.
"I'm sorry, but, please." I said softly, bringing their attention back to me. My stomach rolled, but I pushed on. "I don't understand what's happening right now." I kept my eyes averted. "Please just explain it to me, so I can understand how to fix this."
Silence.
I spoke once more into that silence. Voice tight with emotion and broken, useless pride as I continued.
"I'm sorry for this tension I've caused. I meant no harm. I just want to make amends for whatever I did to offend you." I looked Time in the eyes. The first time since that fateful night we locked gazes across the fire. "I'm sorry. Tell me how to fix this. Please, Link."
The warm slide of tears escaped down my cheeks without permission, my body no longer able to hold back the immensity of my feelings. The hurt, the confusion, the desperation. The pulsing, writhing, whispering doubt that was my fear.
Fear of this man's wrath and the power he so casually holds over me, a foreign woman with no means to properly defend or support herself in this strange, unfamiliar world. Who's very survival hangs by the thin thread that is the Chain's compassion and continued favor.
Fear of his every frown and unreadable silence. Of the loyalty the boys hold for this man and his words, his influence, his command. Of how quickly he can take it all away in a moment of displeasure or offense. This warm safety net of fondness and companionship I've built myself within the soft, welcoming hearts of the boys, nothing more than delicate silk webs weaved around his fingers. Allowed purchase by the grace of his will alone.
Fear of his overwhelming strength, his unrelenting fury in the face of opposition. Of his unyielding might and unfathomable abilities beyond anything my limited understanding of this world can comprehend. The raw talent he possesses, the potential he wields, like magic weaving themselves into mortal flesh.
My shoulders begin to shake, throat closing as I hide my face in my hands, fingers wetting with tears. The weight of everything crashing down like stones upon my chest and I'm overwhelmed by the fall.
I miss my world, my home, my family, my friends. I miss my independence. I miss the security of knowing how to survive in the world around me, of being able to support myself and choose whom I give myself wholly over to.
I miss the power to live without fear of others opinions or goodwill. To stare down those who would judge and scorn me with the confidence of a woman with a full time job and the money to back up her words. Her own apartment, her own bills. A phone and heating and water and food and furry little mouths to feed.
A woman assured of herself and where she stands in the world. I woman without fear.
The woman I used to be. Not this sniveling, begging shell of a creature clinging to life by the favor of a man. Who. Hates. Her.
Eventually, the tears ran their course and I finally became aware of myself again. Arms were around me, holding me against warm muscle hidden under soft cloth as my hands twisted into their long sleeve.
"I...I'm sorry." I choked, embarrassed and struggling to breathe through blocked sinuses. "I didn't mean to...to..."
I opened my eyes.
I realized, staring at Malon's blurred face twisted in compassion from across the counter, that it wasn't her holding me.
She wasn't the one holding me.
My breath nearly hitched in anxiety, stomach dropping in the cold void of my guts. My mind reeled with confusion, a thousand thoughts swirling through my head between one breath and the next. A cold sweat broke out along the nape of my neck, along my lower back.
I'd frozen, still clutching to the sleeve between my fingers and my shoulder tucked into a chest (firm, laden with dense, lithe muscle) that could only belong to one man.
This didn't make sense. Being forced by your wife to apologize was one thing, but to actively comfort the person you resented was something else entirely. I couldn't wrap my head around it.
I felt confused, wrong-footed, relieved. But mostly, I felt stupid. Because I didn't understand a damned thing that was happening right now or what had caused this sudden shift in Time's behavior.
Then Time started speaking, and it was like the entire world began to shatter and remake itself around me.
"I'm sorry. I didn't think- I didn't know-" He paused briefly, before taking a deep, fortifying breath and continuing. "I'm sorry I hurt you. That I put fear in your heart. It was never my intention. I hadn't even considered how the situation must have looked to you."
Another breath, the slightest tensing of his arms around my shoulders. "You always seem so calm and assured in everything you do. It didn't even cross my mind that you might feel vulnerable after everything that's happened to you."
My heart squeezed. All my insecurities, being laid out before me. One glance at Malon's knowing gaze and I understand where this sudden awareness must have come from.
Time continued, heedless of my newfound understanding. "I never once intended to cast you aside or let harm befall you. I care for you so dearly. Even if you had decided to reject my companionship, I'd still protect you all the same. I thought you knew that, but I was wrong. I should never have assumed you knew something I didn't tell you."
He sighed, but it sounded shaky in my ear. "I hadn't stopped to consider your feelings, before I sought to protect my own. And for that, I'm sorry."
The arms around me tightened, as though trying to impart the sincerety of his words with the action. He needn't have bothered though, because despite it all I believed every word he spoke.
If there was one thing I could always rely on, it was his honesty in matters regarding the heart. No matter how strained our friendship became, it was the one thing I knew he would not actively lie about.
But still.
"But I never did anything to you." I sniffed wetly, fingers digging into his sleeve as I fixated my gaze at the countertop where Malon's freckled hands were resting. "I don't understand why you suddenly felt the need to- escape from me." The tears wanted to come again, but I held them back. This was too important to lose focus. "Please help me understand. The fortune teller-"
Time groaned suddenly and Malon laughed with impish delight, a glint of mischief making an unexpected appearance in her eyes. The sound of Malon's laughter brought confused warmth to my chest, cutting through the thick turmoil muddying up my mind.
Awkward silence. Until Time sighed again. Deeply.
"She told me I'd find new and- passionate love."
What?
Wait, what?
I pulled away from his arms a bit, just enough to turn and peer at him through watery lashes, taking in his blurry visage. My brows pulled down and a look of disbelief no doubt found purchase on my face, mouth pressed in a tight line.
"That's it? Weeks of avoidance and radio silence because some lady in a tent said you'd get the hots for someone? And you just assumed that someone might be me?"
I couldn't believe it. All this time. Just because some lady happened to see us traveling close together and decided to play matchmaker? Really?
Of all the-
Wait a damned minute.
"Time?" I said, tone flat as I locked gazes with him. Dead serious.
He looked right back, though there was caution in his eye now along side the regret. "Yes?"
I leaned forward a bit, our already close proximity putting me squarely in his face. My could feel the spark of rightous rage taking form in my chest.
"You weren't having doubts about your marriage with Malon, were you?"
And suddenly there was no space between us, noses nearly touching, his stare so intense I almost pulled back despite still being trapped in his arms. I could feel the warm, damp spread of his breath against my lips and chin.
"No." He said with dead calm, the hard surely of his tone left no room for doubt.
"Good. Because if you were, you don't deserve her." I threw back, still giving him a hard stare.
Silence. He breaths smelled of coffee and something sweet coated over his natural scent. It made my gut twist in a not unpleasant way. It reminded me that his arms were still around me. How warm he was in the morning chill. How firm his muscles were against my hands and shoulder.
He grinned then, eye brimming with fae-like mirth as he rested his forehead against mine. It was the first time I've seen that beautiful expression in so long. My heart ached at the sight of it, warmth and sweet relief flooding into my heart like babbling spring water.
"There you are." He breathed lowly, eye closing as he leaned more into our point of contact. He inhaled deeply through his nose, shoulders relaxing. I hadn't even noticed until then just how tense they were. "I thought I'd ruined this."
"Hmm?" I hummed in question, still caught up in the rapture of seeing his smile again. Head foggy from our proximity, I felt the beginnings of fatigue settling into my bones from my earlier crying.
"My! Would ya look at that! You weren't kiddin' when ya said she had them lovin' eyes, darling!" Malon spoke up suddenly with barely contained glee, popping the bubble that seemed to exist around Time and I.
I pulled away hurriedly, realizing just how close Time and I had been. Sharing breath, foreheads resting against one another and our noses nearly bumping together. His arms around me and my body nestled into his chest. All of it completely inappropriate for the situation. Especially for being right in front of his wife!
And she sounded far too pleased with this whole thing. Like it didn't even matter that I'd just blubbered in her husband's arms and then touched my face to his like I had a right to.
The confusion was back. But this time, it pulled bright, sweet warmth to my cheeks as I stumbled to my feet. The gentle wink of butterfly wings swirled around in my stomach and Malon's delighted smirk only intensified the sensation, sending the flock up into my throat.
I needed to get away. I needed to think.
"I-I accept your apology, Time!" I stuttered out embarrassedly, fighting the blush I knew was trying to heat my face. "I hope we can talk more later, but I'd like time to think about what you said!" I explained a bit too loudly even to my own ears, nearly wincing at my own awkwardness.
Malon, having come from behind the counter, leaned against her husband's back, hands on his shoulders. She smiled sweetly, a complimentary expression to Time's amused grin. Both of them were haloed by the sun shining softly through the window behind them, like a Goddamned magazine cover.
Goodness, but do they make a beautiful couple.
No. Stay focused. Escape first and then figure out what the Hell is happening. Get yourself together.
"Have a good day, Time, Malon!" Time's lip twitched upward. My stomach squeezed. "Okay! Bye for now."
Then, I all but ran from the kitchen, leaving behind what may have been the last of my dignity. Behind me, Malon's sweet laughter chased me down the hall, alighting my face with hellfire.
And therein began my first official day at Lon Lon Ranch.
---
Because of the limited perspective of first person narrative, a lot of the finer details are implied rather then stated. So if something seems out of left field, it's because the OC herself didn't realize what was happening behind the scenes.
Now I must return to the shadows to rest.
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alexjcrowley · 4 days
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So, I watched Casino Royale (2006), in my quest to rewatch all of the Daniel Craig's James Bond movies and answer the question: "Do I really hate James Bond movies? Or was I just a kid when some of them came out and I didn't care for spy movies?"
I'll start by saying that I liked Casino Royale much, much more than I had expected. It's 2 hours and a half long, which today is the standard running time for any blockbuster, but lately I had managed to convince myself that, during my childhood, blockbusters were shorter and didn't kidnap an audience in a movie theatre for almost 3 hours. I was wrong.
(Now, SPOILERS ahead)
Starting with what I liked.
First thing first: James Bond. I was never fond of Bond's character, I have always thought him boring instead of serious, slimy instead of charming, and generally very annoying with the whole "I'm the man" demeneanor. I was also wrong. I really liked Daniel Craig in this first movie. We see Bond at the very start of his career, he has just been promoted 00 status and he has a lot to learn. He takes almost as many punches as he gives, he is too instinctive and his ego often gets his own way. He is far from perfect and many people give him shit for that, especially women. Casino Royale holds his main character accountable for most of the bullshit he does and that was a welcome surprise.
The plot. I am proud to say I think I understood the entire plot of the movie. I know it might not seem much a of a brag and I swear I can usually understand the plot of a movie- but James Bond's ones are often too convoluted for me. I feel like Casino Royale, partly thanks to chunk of explaination given by M, was fairly easy to follow. There were also many predictable twists- not necesserily a bad thing though, because they did make sense. I really liked how Mads Mikkelsen- brilliant as always in the role of the main villain Le Chiffre- was being hunted both by Bond and by far more dangerous people he owed money to. I think the movie lost itself a little bit in a the last part, but I'll discuss that later.
Vesper Lynd. I have no idea what the press conferences around Casino Royale were like, but I wouldn't be surprised if a lot of them focused on a better treatment of female characters in the Bond's franchise. I was expecting to be bored to death by the umpeteenth only apparently hard-to-get woman falling for Bond's charms, and I am happy to say it was nothing like that. First of all, and I mean it as a compliment, the Bond and Vesper banter is ao3-tier. The chemistry is there, there's equal teasing on both sides, which makes it looks they just work very well as a couple. But the scene I liked the most is right after James Bond loses a really important game of poker. He goes out on the balcony, Vesper follows him and James asks her to give him more money, because he thinks he can win the next game. Vesper says no. James insists, in what you could call the classical "all or nothing" scene of a movie. The one in which the protagonist is like "you have to believe in me, I can do this, look into my eyes, trust me one more time and I'll prove it to you", sprinkled with a little more "If you don't do this, all that money" that he lost "will be in the villain's hands" and grasping Vesper's arm very tightly. And Vesper's response is not "Okay, I will give you the money to save the world, but don't let me regret this, James". The first thing Vesper tells him is get his hand off of her. The second is that she is not going to give him more money, because he lost that game due to his ego (a motif that had already been introduced at the beginning of the movie) and if he keeps playing now, he is going to keep losing. And then she leaves. This, and the dialogue in which she basically asks if she has to worry about Bond's breaking into her room and trying to force himself on her with Bond reassuring her he won't, were moments I really appreciated. The James Bond saga is not exactly well known to be fair to female characters and, especially, James Bond's love interests are often poorly written. They could have gone the easy route, they could have had Vesper trusting James blindly because he is the main character, but, instead, she stood up to him. I really, really like this decision. As James Bond has been cemented as an icon of masculinity, it is shown that not only even he can be wrong, but also that this is rightly pointed out by a woman. In this occasion, he's being emotional and illogical, while she is being the reasonable one. And I feel this is as relevant today as it was in 2006.
Favourite scene: the torture. I am not really crazy about torture scenes usually, but I really loved the one between James Bond and Le Chiffre. It's not just that the acting- especially on Daniel Craig's part- is phenomenal, it's what that scene means. According to my interpretation, based purely on how Craig played the character, that seems to be the first time James Bond has ever been tortured and you can see he's fucking terrified. And you see him going from terrified back to that mask of neutrality, even though it is now dented. There are moments in which pain slowly morphs into an exasperated laughter and James is turning to crude humour to deal with the situation because he has already made his decision- he won't give up the code, so he's gonna die there, if he is lucky. If he's not, many hours, if not days, of torture await him. It's a momumental test of an actor for Craig.
So, yeah, lots to love. Let's now move to what I didn't like.
The action. Not all the action in Casino Royale is bad, on the contrary, but a couple of things were simply goofy. Like the first bomber being a parkour God, especially compared to James Bond's clusmy ass? Top-tier comedy, maybe intentionally, maybe not. I know for a fact the dramatic zooms were not intentionally comedic, but alas. And I gotta ask, other than being the easiest way to kill off Vesper, what was the point of that last Venice action sequence? To me, that was really overdrawn and forgetful.
The wife of the first villain. Her dialogue about liking bad guys is very cringe and I don't know who directed Daniel Craig in the scene in which reacts to her death, but holy shit that's one of the worst sequence of the movie. At first he seems indifferent to her being tortured and killed, then M goes on her whole tirade about Le Chiffre, and then, suddenly, when she asks if James Bond can handle the mission, Daniel Craig is looking at dead body of the villain's wife doing the most exaggrated heavy breathing since the stuff you could find of Looney Tunes. And then says "no" in a completely neutral, and accidentally comedic, tone. Jesus Christ. What a shit show.
James Bond's character arc, a.k.a. the romcom act. Yeah, I know, I said I liked James Bond before. But I have beef with the way the character evolved. I would say I pretty much like what we see in 2/3 of the movie. The problem for me arrives post torture, when we are made believe we have finally reached a happy ending. Vesper and Bond declare their love to each other, great, it was to be expected. But the fact that a few days after that- at least it looks like a few days- James Bond is like "Yeah, no, I'm in love with you, I wanna quit my job and spend the rest of my life with you" feels very rushed to me. Sure, near death experiences really bond people together, but let's recap the events of this movie. At the beginning of the movie, James Bond has just become 007. If I am not wrong, Casino Royale is James Bond's first mission as a 00 agent. We don't know how much time he has spent hunting down the parkour-bomber of the beginning of the movie, but we know that something like 2 days later he is sent to the Bahamas, then goes to Miami, all in the span of 2 days, and then he gets sent to Montenegro for something like 3 or 4 days. At the end of the Montenegro section, there's the torture scene, so all we know is that he ends up in a hospital and stays there for an unspecified while (which he spends mostly unconscious) and it's at that point, after declaring his love to Vesper, that he goes "Yeah I don't want to be a spy anymore". Bitch, you have been a spy for less than a month and you have known this woman for 2 weeks at best, and I am counting the time you were unconscious. Am I the only one who feels this is rushed? Especially because, during a game of deduction he and Vesper played, Vesper seemed to rightly deduce James wanted to be a spy because he had a chip on his shoulder about proving is worth- did that just go away? Wow, James, you gotta teach me how to solve self-worth related issues that fast. And the canonical reason why James wants to leave the job is because it's "eating his soul away" or some shit like that, and he wants to leave with that little bit of soul he still got. Once again, bitch, please. You have not been on the job for one month, what the fuck are you talking about. Maybe it's because you're not used to have a job, Mr Bond, but every single job eats your soul away and you live with that, because otherwise you won't be able to pay the bills. Just to be clear, I'm not mad at the idea that James Bond wants to leave his job. I think it feels rushed and I think it's a little bit too obvious something will happen to Vesper at this point because there's no way James Bond is quitting the job in his first movie, but I would have accepted this change of heart from Bond if I had been given a good reason for it. For example, the fact that he has been tortured. To me, it would have made much more sense if James Bond would have been like "You know what? Being tortured is fucking terrifying, much more than I thought during my spy training, I don't think I can handle that again", I would have believed that. But instead, we got some bullshit on the soul. James Bond screenwriters, being afraid of torture doesn't make you any less of a man, I swear. All in all, James Bond deciding to change his entire life goals just because he fell in love seems the kind of shit writing the female lead would get in a shitty romance movie, not the one of the main (male) character of a spy movie. Maybe it's poetic justice, but I think James Bond somehow found himself a victim of what is usually regarded as misogynistic writing. He then regresses to the emotional maturity of a teenage boy who spends too much time on reddit when he feels betrayed by Vesper, while M has to explain as you would to a 5-year-old that Vesper, if anything, tried to save Bond. A very undignified main character arc, if you ask me.
Vesper's death. Why did Vesper basically kill herself? I genuinely thought her death was a Jack and Rose situation- they both could fit on the door! I think James would have been able to save Vesper if she only didn't lock herself in the elevator. The only explaination that I can give myself to that decision is that Vesper didn't want to live with the guilt of condemning her past lover to death in saving James.
I am not good at giving grades to movies, instead I will say this: it's definitely worth a watch if you're into spy movies and the bisexual panic induced by Eva Green and Daniel Craig will not leave you for a good while. If you're willing to be forgiving of a few sequences, it's a very enjoyable action flick.
Onto the last part: my quest to prove James Bond is aro and/or ace.
Why do I want to prove that? I guess if there were more aromantic characters I could just turn to them for representation, but I have to do everything by myself around here.
My reasons to believe James Bond is aro: as someone who, for the moment, identifies as aroallo, I really sympathise with characters that indulge in a lot of sex, but keep romance at an arm's lenght. I don't think they're shallow, I think maybe romance is simply not their thing, just like it's not mine.
My reasons to believe James Bond is ace: I think James Bond may have a pretty fucked up relationship with sex because of his job. His entire body basically belongs to the governemnt: it's a weapon to kill, a disposable dummy to be tortured and, in some occasions, an object of desire, used to seduce, possess and be possessed. You could pretty much say that a fraction of his job is similar to that of a sex worker. Far from implying that being a sex worker automatically fucks up your relationship with sex, I think being forced to have sex with people who you sometimes despise and who might want to hurt you or even kill you is not, like, the best thing ever. And also, while a sex worker can theoretically pick their clients, James can't. He has to seduce who is useful to seduce for the mission, regardless of how he feels about them. And, to top it all off, I like the idea of James Bond being ace because I am tired of the whole "James Bond is so cool because he fucks a lot and which man wouldn't want to fuck a lot". Maybe James Bond doesn't want to fuck a lot, or maybe he doesn't derive as much pleasure from it as people believe he does.
Okay, so. Starting with aro spectrum, even though James falls for Vesper, I think we still have good chances of him being aro, either fully aro or something like greyromantic. After all, aromantics can still, even if rarely, fall in love and I think, for the way the character of James Bond has been presented, him falling for Vesper was quite an unexpected/out of character thing for him. Him deciding ti quit his entire past life to be with Vesper...is truly just bad writing for me, but even accepting it, I don't think it makes him any less aro, because as I explained he could have had much better reasons to want to quite his job and, personally, if I fell in love with somebody after years of that just not happening for me, I wouldn't know how I would react. Maybe I would also call it a miracle and just roll with it.
About the ace spectrum, we see him seducing a villain's wife at some point, but I will be honest. That shit don't count. There is this moment in which the woman is like "I always fall for bad men😏" and James Bond immediately gets out of the sexy mood and goes "So would you say your husband is a bad man? Why? Because of his job?". He does a 180 and goes from wet dream to interrogator in less than a second. Plus, he seems to leave her without having sex with her to go chase her villain husband. Very professional of him, but also makes me think he was never that much into her as he made her believe. The whole thing felt too calculated on his part, I would definitely say he was faking the whole time. James does have very enthusiatic sex with Vesper, though. If I want to stick to what the movie implies, without going off the tracks with something like "he pretended to be enthusiatic during the whole thing but he was faking for Vesper's happiness", I may still go with the fact that he is for sure sex positive and maybe demi-sexual.
Well, if you have read until this point, I am genuinely surprised. You don't have that much to do, I guess, good for you.
Onto Quantum of Solace next, and I am already shaking: I know that movie is bad. I know about the writers strike. God help me.
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princeescaluswords · 10 months
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Currently thinking of certain factions of fandom who tend to demonize Laura Hale. What exactly did she do that was so awful?
Leaving her injured and catatonic uncle in a care facility? Do they think he would've miraculously healed in New York if she brought him along (if that was even an option)? They seem to think she abandoned him or should've done more. What exactly, dear fandom?
Laura was a young woman who suffered a devastating loss and had to be the leader and look out for her younger brother and injured uncle. Cora was assumed dead too. Similar to Scott, she didn't ask to be alpha.
What did they expect her to do? Wage war against the perpetrators? She didn't know who was involved but she did return when Peter lured her. Fandom thinks she was unfit for the role of alpha because she wasn't ripping throats out and hunting down culprits, that she ~abandoned~ her uncle in a vulnerable state, blah blah.
The way they get angry at Scott disobeying Peter and Derek, you'd think they'd be livid over Peter killing his alpha who was also his niece who was the ~heir~ to Talia. Sacrilege!
Scott didn't ~trust~ Stiles? Well, Petey didn't trust his alpha! Why the secrecy? Why not report in immediately upon gaining consciousness?
*dons the stylish hat of Fandom Logic* Oh, oh Peter was involved in the Hale Fire! He always craved the mantle of alpha and needed Talia out of the way. But he got betrayed by Kate in the end and locked in with the rest of the family. That's why he insisted he's always been the alpha, he was promised the power if he helped destroy the pack. It's why he lured Laura back and killed her instead of communicating, he just wanted the power.
Your question puts me in mind of an argument both This Discontented Winter and Athena Dark have made to counter my indictments of fandoms worship of Peter Hale. To paraphrase TDW, "does all entertainment have to be a morality play?"
The simplistic answer to their bad faith riposte, is "No, it doesn't." You can watch two people sit in a room and not talk to each other. You can watch art hang motionless on a wall or paint dry, but these wouldn't be particularly popular forms of visual entertainment. What excites an audience is how the actors, the characters, the players treat each other, which is governed by principles concerning the distinction between right and wrong or good and bad behavior. In other words, morality.
People watch the Real Housewives franchise because they want to watch rich women behaving badly. People watch John Wick movies because they want to watch ultra violence performed without regard for human life and instead operate on a different code of behavior. Telenovelas, true crime documentaries, space operas, super hero movies -- all the pleasure their audiences gain from it revolve around decisions people make about how to treat each other. They watch it FOR the morality -- or the LACK of it.
The only forms of modern entertainment I can think of that don't focus on morality are professional sports and talent shows, and both of these take it as a given that neither side is cheating. Even Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom proposed to show us the behavior of animals so we can recognize their beauty and right to exist. My apologies to the BNF, but that's morality, too.
When This Discontented Winter bemoans the idea of all entertainment as morality play and Athena Dark that storytelling doesn't have to have a message, what they are in fact arguing for is the ability to celebrate evil. To freely indulge in the type of moral equivocation that allows them to take pleasure in the triumph of a man murdering his niece for power. You know how I know this, because if they truly wanted to enjoy something without the moral dimension, they wouldn't go to such great lengths to protect their blorbos from any moral condemnation.
Thus, we get the idea that Laura deserved death because she abandoned Peter in the long-term care facility, in which he rested safely for six years without the Argents even being aware of his location. We get the idea that Laura deserved death because she didn't seek vengeance for her family, even though she was absolutely looking for the person responsible for the death of her family -- we saw actual physical evidence of it. Thus we get the idea that Peter had no idea what he was doing, that he was out of his mind, only to find out later -- when none of the other characters believe that anymore -- that he was aware of what he was doing all along.
Remember Master Plan (2x12):
Peter: No. It's a laptop. What century are you living in? A few days after I got out of the coma, I transferred everything that we had. Fortunately, the Argents aren't the only ones that keep records.
Wow, that's a remarkable amount of foresight for a person who was supposedly so out of his mind that he shouldn't be held responsible for what he did.
The true problem with BNF trying to argue that we don't have to approach the show with an eye toward morality is because the show absolutely did. It was baked into the substance of the show from the get go. The characters are formed to make choices about how they treat other people. To use their own words, we have to treat the entertainment that is called Teen Wolf as a morality play because it IS a morality play. Every story is.
And this is the problem with fandom, which I've noted again and again and again in regards to Star Wars, Shadow and Bone, and now Loki. They want to extract the characters from the moral schema in which they were situated and put them in a new situation, yet pretend that there isn't a moral dimension to this act. And there is, because this new situation is one where only certain considerations are treated as valid, mostly exploitation of the baser instincts of human nature for the benefit of a very small class of stand-ins, defined by race, class, and gender.
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rawliverandgoronspice · 8 months
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hey! do you have any thoughts on demise as a looser/more fluid/symbolic/metaphorical figure in the context of the story of the series- like thoughts on what he represents, and stuff like what his curse could mean thematically rather than the more essentialistic absolutistic "literal satan" interpretation that most of the (at least western) audience seems to take?
i know he may be somewhat contentious as a choice introduced by the writers especially considering from an outside perspective what he kind of did to the majority of fandom analysis and discourse, but i've been thinking about how it's quite possible the writers had a more paganistic approach to what it means to be a deity and how demise doesn't even really have a NAME so much as he is supposed to be some sort of manifestation/personification of the concept of demise, and maybe also of hatred, and also i don't know, like, what the point of that hatred is or why there has to be demise/what implications there could be of this worldbuilding
hope that was coherent enough to make sense of anything i just said but yeah i was just curious if you do!
Heyy sorry never replied, replying now!! Thanks for the ask!
Yeah it's exactly how I'm taking Demise, and I think what you mention connects more to what little I know and understand of shintoism.
In French, Demise has an absurdly long name and is basically called "The Avatar of the Void", which I think is... interesting? It makes me extremely curious as to how Demise is called in original japanese --because to me, "Void" is about the absence of things more than their destruction. It's about the absence, not the inevitability of things crumbling down that comes with Demise. I don't know which of these concepts are the closest to the original vision (if it's Void rather than Demise I think it recontextualizes everything we thought we know about this world and characters, but in my opinion it feels too incoherent with the rest of the world, so my guess is that it was a poorly thought-out translation --but I might be wrong!), but to me it's all in the title: Demise. The curse is that every golden era must end with a reckoning.
I think the curse is extremely compelling in that mythological sense, the way Demeter and Persephone's tale is about the joy and pain of passing seasons; it's the given cause for this world's fate as it is condemned to rise and die continuously; and that their eternal, bright future will always be opposed. To be honest, I'm not even sure it's a *bad* thing. Conflict is not only inevitable, it needs to rise to the surface instead of being suppressed to ensure things do not remain stagnant and shortcomings are being acknowledged and addressed --which is also partially why the suggestion of TotK's golden forever after really doesn't sit right with me, especially since nothing was learned and nothing truly changed in the course of its runtime.
I think the curse sucks when people think it means that Ganondorf is a generic evil demon man without motive of his own. It especially grinds my nerves since I somehow never hear this argument being made for *any* other villain in the franchise. I know they look alike the most (and TotK didn't help matters here), but I never *ever* saw people arguing that Vaati doesn't have motive, for example. Or Majora. Or Zant. Or even literal nothing characters like Bellum, who by all means looks more like a primal demonic evil acting on instinct than anyone else. Somehow, we get to assume they have internal motives that, while obviously wicked and self-serving, are their own! But somehow, Ganondorf, the actual main antagonist of his series with the most amount of games hinting at his backstory and internal moral code, gets flattened as an evil puppet with no internal life whatsoever. It's genuinely bizarre.
Anyway sorry sorry! Thanks again for the ask!
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Sometimes the Best Medicine is Love
A Sokeefe sickfic (Mostly fluff, tiny bit angst) Please repost w/credit.
Disclaimer: I own neither the franchise nor any of these characters.
Sophie was concerned.
If there ever was a sign that something was wrong, it was a silent Keefe. With everything that had been going on lately, she wasn't surprised, but still, it was worrying. Was he ok? Was his father being a jerk, as usual? Was he upset with her? She reached over to where he was sitting at the lunch table and gently flicked his arm.
"You ok?" She mouthed when he glanced up.
He nodded, then plopped his head back down to his folded arms on the table, his blond hair gently flopping to the side of his forehead.
She frowned. Something must really be the matter for him to not even bother with a quip of some kind. Oh well. Better to give him some space and just keep an eye out - she knew well how stubborn he could be.
She rubbed his arm in a (hopefully) comforting gesture, whispered a quiet "see you," and moved on to her next class, glancing back and biting her lip. He'll talk to me when he feels ready, she thought. Hopefully that's sooner than later.
As Sophie left, Keefe completely slumped onto the table, all pretense gone.
He felt awful.
Really awful.
Not only had he barely said a word to his girlfriend - is that what they were? - all day, his head also wouldn't stop pounding, his nose was running, and his throat felt like he was swallowing rocks. He wanted to sleep so badly. It was better this way, though; his father would have confined him to his bed and insisted on "taking care of him" in that stuffy, formal way of his that only included bringing him a glass of water every so often and pretending to care about how he felt. 
Best to just suck it up, get through the day, and maybe find someplace to camp out until he felt a little better.
Although, the way he was feeling, who knew how long that would be.
He jerked forward with a sudden sneeze, banging his head on the table. Hard. Ugh. 
He dragged himself out of his seat, rubbing his forehead, and started the long trudge to his class - way too late. Now, he'd probably have detention to deal with. It's going to be a very long day, Keefe thought.
Sophie lept home after school, her mind still fixated on Keefe. She was a habitual worrier, after all they had been through - and were going through - ever since she had arrived in the Lost Cities. As she walked into the dining room, she made up her mind. She would pay Keefe a visit, just to make sure. He'd understand. 
She zipped into her bedroom to change out of her school clothes, throwing on a new tunic and leggings in record time, then dashed out to the backyard.
"Edaline, I'm going to Candleshade to check on Keefe," she called as she ran past the pastures. "I'll be back soon!"
She opened a rift, closed her eyes, and ran into the void.
Meanwhile, Keefe flopped on his bed, just praying his father would leave him alone. Hopefully, he could remain uninterrupted long enough to sleep off whatever this was. Then someone knocked on the door. He groaned, sniffling, and draped an arm over his eyes. Never a moment of peace when I need one, Keefe thought, letting out a little whine.
"Keefe," came his father's incredibly annoying, posh voice. "Sophie Foster is here to see you."
His head jerked up. Sophie? Why on earth would she be visiting him after the way he'd practically ignored her earlier? He lept off the bed, blinking hard, straightening his wrinkled tunic and running his hand through his sweaty curls. Oh, god. She can't see me like this, Keefe panicked.
He opened his door, trying to feign alertness.
"Hey, Foster," he muttered. "What's up?"
She didn't say anything, just walked inside and closed the door.
"Keefe, what's going on? You've been acting strange all day, and I want to make sure you're ok. Really ok," she amended before he could interject.
He took a second, seemingly trying to decide what to tell her, before apparently giving in. "Don't feel good," he croaked, sitting back on his bed and directing a pathetic sneeze into his wrist.
She watched the facade drop before her eyes, and the confident "Hunkyhair" she was so accustomed to dissolved into a lanky, pale, shivering boy. Poor Keefe.
She noticed, now, his bright, glassy blue eyes, and the sweat beading on his forehead - he must have a pretty high fever. She reached out and gently brushed his damp curls away, laying a hand on the blond boy's forehead and quickly withdrawing it at the heat.
"Keefe! I'm bringing you to Elwin right now. You can't stay here like this," Sophie decided. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"Just didn't," he mumbled, coughing. "I was tired, and my throat hurt, and I didn't want word getting back to my dad. He's even more annoying when I'm sick." He mustered a weak grin at that, showing his exhaustion. Even sick, though, he could never pass up an opportunity to bash his lousy excuse for a father, Lord Cassius.
Sophie hummed in agreement. She knew Keefe didn't have a good relationship with his father, which made all the more excuse to take him to Elwin. Elwin had a certain way with Keefe, a gentleness and concern that his father lacked. And he really could use some gentle concern right about now.
She opened the window in Keefe's bedroom, crawling out first and dropping to the ground, then gently helping the sick boy out of the window. He was shivering too hard to stand, so she managed to hoist him onto her back and, once more, ran into the void as Keefe passed out, lulled to sleep by the combination of exhaustion, fever, and Sophie's warmth seeping into his own tired, freezing body.
He awoke in the Healing Center, with Elwin standing over him and flashing various glowing lights around his body and frowning.
"Hi," Keefe croaked, sitting up slowly and blinking hard. He suddenly snapped forward with a harsh sneeze, managing to catch it in his hands. "...Ugh." He groaned, sniffling and rubbing his hands on his tunic. "Gross." 
Sophie winced but said nothing, sitting on the edge of the bed. 
“How are you feeling?” Sophie asked gently, brushing his curls away from his face. 
“Eh. Could be better,” he mumbled, giving her a wry grin. It was the truth, after all. He still felt pretty awful, but both getting out of Candleshade and whatever Elwin had been doing seemed to have helped some. 
He coughed, then looked at Elwin. “What are you thinking?”
Elwin pushed his goggles onto his head and sighed. “Keefe, you have quite the knack for getting yourself into trouble, one way or another.” He chuckled. “This time, however, it’s thankfully not too serious. Some kind of flu, but I’d like to keep you here for a few days, if you don’t mind?” Elwin met Keefe’s eyes, waiting for his answer.
Keefe knew that, like it or not, he’d end up staying anyway - Sophie would make sure of that. However, he actually found himself wanting to stay. Anything was better than Candleshade, especially feeling like this. He nodded, then sneezed again. Ow.
“Wonderful! Stay here, and I’ll go get some elixirs for you to take. I’ll be back in a moment.” Elwin dashed back to his office, leaving the two alone.
Sophie watched Elwin leave, then looked back at Keefe. He had sunk back into the pillows, apparently relaxing now that his fate for the next few days was decided.
“Promise you’ll tell me next time?” Sophie asked, meeting Keefe’s tired blue eyes. “You had me worried for a bit there. You were out for a while.” She smiled softly.
Keefe grinned. “Best sleep I’ve had in a while.”
Sophie laughed, then raised an eyebrow. “But do you promise?”
Keefe sighed, which quickly turned into a short coughing fit. When he could breathe again, he smiled weakly and shrugged. “Yeah, I promise.”
“Good.” Sophie kissed his forehead. 
“Stay with me?” Keefe whined.
Sophie glanced over at Elwin’s office door, but saw no sign of him coming back soon.
“Of course,” she agreed, snuggling in next to him on the bed and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. 
Keefe melted into her warmth, and his eyes turned heavy as he burrowed into her touch, sleep quickly claiming his exhausted body. Sophie smiled, laying her head on top of his and stroking his damp curls. She, too, closed her eyes, and all the stress of the day melted, pulling her, too, down into sleep. 
Elwin walked back into the room just then with the elixirs, but stopped quickly when he saw the sleeping pair. He smiled and grabbed an extra blanket, draping it over Keefe and Sophie. 
Sometimes the best medicine is love, isn’t it?
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