#except capitalism is the enemy in this one. like the big bad is literally called Corporation

[riacte]

Hermitgals Pretty Cure AU transformation phrases + items

Tentatively drafted these up today! I am having so much fun with this AU :D

˖⁺‧₊˚​​  ✿ ♦︎ 𖦹 ☾ ☘︎ ˚₊‧⁺˖

Stress: "The joy of creation and the love for our everyday life! Cure Allium!"

Transformation item: Perfume bottle. Self explanatory (she loves flowers). Heartcatch style, she sprays it over herself and she transforms.

Weapon item: Her gloves with like knuckle protectors? Her bare fists? She sprays her perfume over her gloves and they become big and shiny and she basically punches her way through her troubles <3

˖⁺‧₊˚​​  ✿ ♦︎ 𖦹 ☾ ☘︎ ˚₊‧⁺˖

False: "The flexibility of creation and the ever-changing flow of ideas! Cure Diamond!"

Transformation item: A mirror. It shatters and the pieces become like, intangible and she's able to pass through them like she's becoming her stronger reflection. And yes this is a reference to symmetry, or more accurately, asymmetry.

Weapon item: Bow and arrows. Her mirror shatters - the handle of it turns into her bow, the shattered pieces become the arrows. She's also able to shift her arrows into other forms, specifically water and ice.

˖⁺‧₊˚​​  ✿ ♦︎ 𖦹 ☾ ☘︎ ˚₊‧⁺˖

Cleo: "The connectivity of creation and the diverse threads of our lives! Cure Blaze!"

Transformation item: A watch. Joe made it <3 and it broke and froze at the time when Joe died </3 but it got fixed with Jhost's lime green magic filling in the cracks <3 It's like Yes 5's transformation.

Weapon item: Ribbons! They burst out from her watch, something about turning back time, something about the hands of her watch extending to form multiple ribbons.

˖⁺‧₊˚​​  ✿ ♦︎ 𖦹 ☾ ☘︎ ˚₊‧⁺˖

Pearl: "The chaos of creation and the clash between shadow and colour! Cure Moon!"

Transformation item: A camera. It takes different snapshots of her, and every time it takes a photo, that part of her transforms. Something about Pearl wanting to capture the joy of creation but was unable to do so in her villain era. Something about becoming her new self with flashes of light. The camera doesn't record her old life, it creates her new life.

Weapon item: A paintbrush and a palette! Colours get extracted from the iridescent lens. She's able to create illusions and attacks.

˖⁺‧₊˚​​  ✿ ♦︎ 𖦹 ☾ ☘︎ ˚₊‧⁺˖

Gem: "The bravery of creation and the delight of dreaming! Cure Birch!"

Transformation item: A charm bracelet. It represents the wishes of all the people from the Hermit Kingdom. Some charms on the bracelet are wooden (representing home and nature), some are gemstones (representing Gem herself), some are metal (representing strength and battle), etc etc.

Weapon item: A sword! One of the gemstone charms in her bracelet becomes the gem embedded in her big sword. She also has the cool effect of stretching out her hand and letting the sword materialise from her bracelet.

˖⁺‧₊˚​​  ✿ ♦︎ 𖦹 ☾ ☘︎ ˚₊‧⁺˖

If you're interested, you can read more on the #precure au tag on my blog :) there's a whole outline and lore and everything

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Optigami

For the first time this season, we're actually acknowledging what happened at the end of the last season. Of course, it's the thirteenth episode chronologically, so you can tell the writers really wanted to strike while the iron was hot.

Let's get into the ninth (chronologically the thirteenth) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Optigami.

We start off with Nathalie recounting the events of “Miracle Queen” to Gabriel, where Chloe exposed the identities of the temp heroes, which is kind of odd considering they were both there. Then again, it's entirely possible Gabriel forgot what happened given we're literally halfway through the season chronologically. According to Nathalie, she created a Sentimonster the very next day to spy on the heroes. After a lot of surveillance by the Sentimonster, named Optigami, all Nathalie and Gabriel really found out was that the heroes were just regular teenagers who occasionally got a Miraculous from Ladybug without even learning her identity, all while we learn she continued to give Miraculous out to the heroes despite the risk to their safety.

Okay, a few questions here. First, why the hell didn't Hawkmoth/Shadowmoth or Mayura try something like this from the beginning? It took you two lucking out in finding out the identities of seven heroes to think about spying on your enemies? Second, Mayura created Optigami the next day? Wasn't she in a lot of pain as a result of using the Peacock for a whole season? At least when she created a Sentimonster in the New York special, it was set a vague amount of time after “Miracle Queen”. Third, Ladybug is seriously recruiting the same heroes again after the rules that she imposed onto Chloe? You know, the person who couldn't use the Bee Miraculous again because of the risk to her safety, and ultimately betrayed Ladybug because she hated the rule? Seriously, the video footage shows Ladybug recruiting Ryuko, someone whose identity Shadowmoth already knew before “Miracle Queen”, so this makes even less sense. If Chloe doesn't get her Miraculous after exposing her identity to the whole world, the same should apply to the other heroes too. If they wanted to make Chloe an exception, all they had to do was have Ladybug bench Queen Bee because she didn't trust Chloe in her civilian life. This just makes Ladybug come off as a hypocrite who serves to justify Astruc's warped mentality that Chloe doesn't deserve a Miraculous even though she lost hers for the same reason as the others.

Nathalie calls Optigami a failure, but Gabriel actually uses his brain for once and comes up with a plan to take out all of the temp heroes at once by putting them in a situation where Ladybug is forced to recruit one of them in order to stop an Akuma. He calls Audrey Bourgeois, a major fashion magazine writer and praises her idea to give a monthly award to a fashion icon, and Gabriel says “there's no better introduction than giving it to his son”, so I'm not sure if he told Audrey to give the award to Adrien, or if he already got the award and Gabriel was just capitalizing on the chance.

So we cut to Marinette and Alya hanging out in the former's room, and surprise, surprise, Marinette is gushing over Adrien. It isn't a love story if there's a single scene not talking about the love interest according to Astruc.

Yeah, despite not being on the list of targets, Marinette got a ticket to the award show because the writers weren't sure how else they could work her into the plot. The Kwamis ask if they can come along, forgetting about the fact that they need to be a secret or be with an owner (guessing Marinette learned her lesson after “Furious Fu”). I'm starting to think I was a little too harsh on Master Fu considering he managed to put up with these godlike idiots for 176 years.

Alya and Trixx, the Fox Kwami, bring up a decent point that now that Alya knows she's Ladybug, she can take a more active role in helping her as Rena Rouge if she had the Fox Miraculous full-time, while Marinette points out the fact that it's too risky for anyone but her to hand out Miraculous. This is brief, but I like this little disagreement here. While I think Marinette could have brought up the fact that Shadowmoth knows Alya's identity in her argument, both sides still make a good point, and this will come into play later on, for better or for worse.

So Marinette and Alya head out to the award party where they meet up with Adrien, Kagami, Luka, Kim, Max, and Nino, with Alya doing a secret handshake with him that I'm sure won't be important later on. We also get a hilarious scene of Alya once again trying to force Marinette into an elevator with Adrien with the explicit intent to have her get closet to Adrien, while she unsurprisingly freaks out, leading to some brief Unfunny Marinette Slapstick.

So much for Marinette growing after the second umbrella scene.

Optigami is set up, and Shadowmoth creates a Sentimonster of the man hosting the award ceremony, and takes the opportunity to do what we've all wanted to do since Audrey's first appearance in late 2018.

I can't believe I'm saying this, but thank you, Gabriel Agreste. You're the real MVP of this episode.

So Shadowmoth sends out an Akuma to akumatize Audrey into his “magnum opus”, Style Queen, once again (Audrey is also implied to be willingly akumatized like Chloe in “Queen Banana”). And since the titular Sentimonster plays a big role in Shadowmoth's plan this episode, I think now's a good time to talk about Optigami.

Optigami has a simple design, a butterfly colored like Mayura, but I like the role it plays. It has the power to hide in any solid object and observe the environment like a camera Nathalie watches, all while Style Queen chases after the temp heroes and turns them into piles of gold dust. Whether that's because she's been powered up by Shadowmoth or because the animators can't afford to create new models of the characters as gold statues isn't clear. It still really shows the writers are taking advantage of the concept of Sentimonsters as support for Akumas outside of more muscle.

So Kagami tries to distract Style Queen while Adrien runs, and she is the first to be taken out. Chloe then tells Style Queen where Ladybug went, but she gets targeted because she laughed at her mother earlier, and then tries to use Zoe as a human shield before getting blasted. Oh, thank God. I thought Chloe was going to appear in an episode where the writers didn't remind the audience how much of a terrible person she is and anyone who supports her is just as bad.

Marinette and Adrien both run off to transform, but get into the same elevator together, which then gets broken thanks to Style Queen's interference. This leads to an interesting setup where neither of them can transform and hope their partner will save them, leading to some real tension. There's also thankfully little to no stammering from Marinette in these scenes. It's almost like the writers only have her struggle to talk with Adrien so they don't actually have to write scenes like this. Alya briefly teases Marinette for saying she's stuck in an elevator with Adrien before realizing she's trapped in an elevator with a civilian and can't transform.

After Max and Luka get taken out, Marinette calls a phone she set up near the Miracle Ball to call the Kwamis, pretending to talk to the fire department and secretly tells them to send Kaalki to help her, but Adrien sees Optigami spying on them in the elevator, so Marinette is forced to hang up. Marinette and Adrien are about to transform and reveal themselves to each other, but because neither of them are on the list and because Shadowmoth felt like actually being a decent father today, Optigami retreats with Style Queen, who then takes out Kim, leaving only Alya and Nino left.

Marinette tells Alya to call the Kwamis, but while she does so, she gets a call from Nino, who is soon taken out by Style Queen and... is replaced... by an... evil... doppelganger... The eighth one in four seasons...

The only question I have is how did Shadowmoth create two Sentimonsters in the same day? Did he recharge offscreen? Either way, he sends “Sentinino” after Alya to lure her out, but Kaalki arrives and portals her to Marinette's room, leading to the funniest joke of the episode.

Alya takes the Fox Miraculous and transforms into Rena Rouge and creates an illusion of Ladybug to distract Style Queen while she meets up with Marinette with the Bee Miraculous, but she decides to take the Turtle Miraculous even though Marinette didn't tell her to just to be safe.

Rena Rouge meets up with Sentinino and gives him the Turtle, alerting Shadowmoth to the fact that Alya may have a bigger role than he anticipated. Sentinino transforms into Carapace (or would a more accurate term be Sentipace?) while Optigami hides in the Turtle Miraculous, leading to another interesting conflict. If Style Queen gets Ladybug's Miraculous, Shadowmoth wins, but even if Ladybug wins, Sentipace can swoop in and steal Ladybug's Miraculous when her guard is down. This is David Xanatos levels of planning here.

Rena Rouge escorts Adrien out of the elevator via one of Kaalki's portals, and Marinette transforms into Ladybug before unifying with the Bee Miraculous into Ladybee.

Ignoring the creepy look on her face, I think Ladybee has a pretty good design. I think the black and gold go well with her suit, and the ponytail with the gold streaks is a nice touch. I'm not sure if it's referencing Queen Bee's design, but I like it, as well as the slight antennae on her head. I still prefer Dragonbug's design, but I can see why so many fans love this one too.

Ladybee is surprised Sentipace is there, but accepts his help anyway. Ladybee summons her Lucky Charm, a compact mirror, but when looking around, she doesn't see how to use the Lucky Charm with Sentipace as he isn't highlighted in her vision like certain objects/heroes that play a part in stopping an Akuma. Ladybee uses Venom, and with Sentipace's Shelter, manages to tank Style Queen's blasts and stun her before de-evilizing her.

Cat Noir tries to cataclysm the golden shield Style Queen placed around the building, but shows up too late, being surprised at the presence of Rena Rouge and Sentipace. He jokes about it, but this will somewhat come into play in future episodes.

Ladybug prepares to throw the compact mirror to use Miraculous Ladybug and fix the damage, but through the mirror, sees Nino fail to do the secret handshake with Alya. Ladybug pulls a John McClane and swings off the top of the building and tells Cat Noir to use his Cataclysm to destroy the Turtle Miraculous, releasing Optigami, and giving Nathalie a major headache. Shadowmoth undoes the creations of Optigami and Sentinino and retreats.

Alya is naturally upset that she screwed up and almost let Shadowmoth find out Ladybug's identity, but then, well...

Like with “Gang of Secrets”, I'm very mixed on this ending. Both Alya and Marinette make good points here. Alya knows she almost let Shadowmoth win, but Marinette points out how invaluable Alya was today and realizes how helpless she was doing a lot of things on her own. Even if Alya didn't give the Turtle Miraculous to Sentinino, Marinette still had to face the possibility of revealing herself to Adrien. Like it or not, she needs someone to help her more, and Alya is the only one able to fill that position.

The problem I have is that because of how Marinette phrases that sentence, it comes off like Alya is being rewarded for what happened this episode. I get she helped, but I just find it weird that Marinette doesn't feel a little uncomfortable trusting Alya more after going behind her back and almost screwing up the entire mission in the process. I think the scene could have worked if Marinette was a little more stern towards Alya and realized she had no choice but to give her the Fox, creating a little tension between the two as a result.

So the episode ends with a post-credits scene where Gabriel and Nathalie realize they need to focus more attention onto Alya due to her connection to Ladybug.

But yeah, this was honestly a really good episode. It's become my favorite this season.

The plot has a fair amount of suspense and tension, most of it derived from the very clever plan Shadowmoth has this time, taking full advantage of the repaired Peacock in order to make what was already a very powerful Akuma even more of a threat. There were jokes, but unlike in other episodes that focus on humiliating Marinette or interrupting the tension, they're well-placed. The same goes for the elevator scene. The writers easily could have made Marinette stammer all of her words around Adrien, but for once, they realized that they needed to have her actually interact with him in order to maintain the tension of the episode.

Granted, there are still some flaws, like Marinette really had no reason to be invited to the award ceremony. All they really had to do was have Adrien invite her himself, which would justify her eager reaction at the beginning. It's also strange that nobody brings up the fact that all of Adrien's friends who were invited were temp heroes. I've already gone over the problem with timeline at the beginning as well as the ending and I plan to talk about Rena Rouge's partnership with Ladybug next time.

Overall, this was still a really good episode. Even the evil doppelganger plotline had an interesting twist to it. What's the next episode about again? What? Another evil doppelganger of Nino?

[agentnico]

The Suicide Squad (2021) Review

This may be the better of the two, but the first Suicide Squad film will always hold the crown for managing to win an Oscar... somehow.

Plot: The government sends the most dangerous supervillains in the world -- Bloodsport, Peacemaker, King Shark, Harley Quinn and others -- to the remote, enemy-infused island of Corto Maltese. Armed with high-tech weapons, they trek through the dangerous jungle on a search-and-destroy mission, with only Col. Rick Flag on the ground to make them behave.

“So that’s it, huh? We’re some kind of suicide squad?” says Will Smith in the original first film, with the line in itself being a poor attempt at a fourth wall break, yet, that movie never reached that promise of being a true Suicide Squad film. Because hardly anyone died, and as a whole David Ayer’s film was a generic mess, regardless of studio interference or not. In comes James Gunn from Marvel, who seems to have cracked the code for how to bring this comic book series to live action in proper gratuitous form, with even the ‘The’ in the title symbolizing that this is the one!

I remember going to see the first Guardians of the Galaxy film at the cinema, and back then I was still only just getting acquainted with watching western media, and that included superhero films. Heck my first ever Marvel movie was Thor: The Dark World! I know, what a banger to start with.......NAAAWT!! Anyway, I went to see Guardians and it was one of the first superhero films I came out of feeling like I truly witnessed something special. It had action, comedy and a good heart to it, and wouldn’t you know, my good old pal James Gunn was behind that flick. I don’t know why I called him my good old pal, I don’t even know the fella. Except in my dreams, but we don’t talk about that. So, flashforward to Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, which I absolutely hated, and for that movie I’m pretty sure Marvel gave Mr Gunn mostly full reigns of creative freedom, as long as he kept it family friendly, and the result was a mess. Hence naturally now I was really sceptical when James Gunn ended up at Warner Bros. following the controversial moment when cancel culture decided to aim it’s slimy fingers at him, as he was given directing and writing duties for this new The Suicide Squad film, and also it was heavily insinuated that Warner Bros. basically told him he could do with the movie whatever the f*** he wanted, excuse my French. And we remember how it panned out last time when James Gunn was given a lot of creative freedom. 

Flashforward to present day; here I am wondering and scratching my head thinking what in the heavens has happened, as by golly I am happy to report that The Suicide Squad is a total winner and a blast with a capital B - Blast! Gosh goodness golly goblin, this movie is so much fun from beginning to end. Right from the opening sequence you know that this film isn’t holding back any punches. It’s going at a 447.19 km/h speed of a Koenigsegg Agera RS crashing through any barriers like it’s nothing. Speaking of the opening sequence, it establishes why the movie is called what it’s called from the get-go. You straight away are proven how not a single character is safe, minus the obvious one that we know who it is, as there ain’t no way Warner Bros. would have allowed James Gunn to kill off that one character. But besides that person, everyone else feels like they could die at any given moment. That’s really a big charm of it, as it is frustrating how in many superhero films, let alone any blockbuster action flicks, so many characters always feel so safe and unstoppable, no matter how many times they get shot or how many buildings crash down upon them. And yes, this movie features a certain CGI character that constantly gets that treatment and survives, although it’s very self aware in that regard and is purposefully humoristic. But overall the entire set of characters feel easily disposable, and so so many of them die in such gruesome fashion, so indeed don’t get attached, as they don’t. 

Speaking of which, this movie is hardcore gory! You see limbs and intestines flying round left and right, a guy gets ripped in half by a humanoid shark, another’s face gets teared off by a shotgun bullet and so on forth in all kinds of gruesome fashion. Visually this is one for the big screen, as here’s the thing: you’re either a mummy’s boy or you grow some cojones and go see a man’s heart get stabbed with a piece of debris glass in 4K high rate definition! Your choice! Oh, and it’s not just the violence, also the cinematography and the practical set pieces all look incredible. This is easily James Gunn’s best looking movie. The entire think LOOKS incredible!

We also have to talk about the cast, as they are all great! There literally isn’t a single weakling among them. Each one, no matter how big or small their role is, brings something to the table. I can’t talk about all of them, as we’d be here all day, so I’m simply going to mention a few of the stand-outs. Idris Elba comes in to replace Will Smith as a character called Bloodsport, who is in some ways a different character but evidently is a replacement of Smith’s. But that’s no bad thing, as with any ensemble movie you still need a main character to latch onto and have an emotional hook towards, and he is that character. In fact, I’d say he’s arguably better than Will Smith in the last movie, or at least he seems to be having more fun here. He works as a solid leading man, however what works even more is his banterous competitive genital-size-measuring back and forth with John Cena’s Peacemaker, who by the way is awesome as that character. He is not a good character, in fact he is as bad as a bad guy can get, especially cause he’s someone who believes that what he is doing is right, making him much more of a dangerous wild card. This is easily John Cena’s best role, with him adding to the comedy one-liners, but also delivering such an interesting character who I’m looking forward to seeing more of in his standalone spin-off show confirmed for next year. Oh, and he wears a toilet helmet on his head which he defines as “a beacon of freedom” which says it all. We also have returning characters from the last film Joel Kinnaman and Viola Davis as Rick Flag and Amanda Waller respectively, and both are given much more room to stretch their talents and spread their beautiful acting wings like the Hollywood angels that they are. Kinnaman’s Rick Flag is the moral compass of the group, as even though Elba is our main guy, he’s nonetheless a villain still, whilst Flag is a genuinely good guy and what is defined as a true American hero, to which Kinnaman fits the part well. And Viola Davis as Amanda Waller is on an absolutely different level. You can tell she’s an Academy Award winner through and through, as she plays such a serious character in an otherwise goofy movie, and so her presence is felt and it is felt BAD! She’s such a despicable yet intimidating personality and she gravitates all of the screen presence to herself. Margot Robbie returns as Harley Quinn, and she gets even more chance to develop this character that she’s played in multiple DCEU films now, and as per usual the Harley Quinn shtick works well for her, though I do kind of wish she didn’t always get all the attention. Look, I think she’s a fun character and Robbie plays her well, however she’s constantly used to overshadow others in these films which I don’t think is too fair, and its evident as ever in this film too. Anyway, the remainder of the cast including Jay Courtney as Captain Boomerang, David Dastmalchian as Polka-Dot Man, Michael Rooker as Savant, Nathan Fillion as TDK, Daniela Melchior as Ratcatcher 2 (who gave me strong A Plague Tale: Innocence vibes) and many more all play villains, but villains that don’t have particularly great superpowers. This is where the tragedy of Task Force X as a team plays a part, as many of these villains aren’t even good at being villains. They are useless, and the movie is really self aware of this and so treats all characters as they should be. Dare I also not forget to mention the CGI characters in this film, with both Weasel and King Shark being absolute scene stealers! 

The Suicide Squad is the type of wham-bam-thank-you-mam batshit crazy entertainment which exists for the pure reasons of fun. It doesn’t set out to be the best superhero film ever, nor does it need to be. It’s an exhilarating, shocking, funny and amusing ride from beginning to end, with the energy never stopping, and is easily the best time I’ve had with a comic-book film in a long while, and I’m even talking about before COVID! Do yourself a favour and watch this one as soon as you can, as I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again - The Suicide Squad is a BLAST!!

Overall score: 9/10

[thepapergirlandthespiegelman]

Might stop reading Worm.

Content warning: bugs/insects/arachnids and related horror, body horror mention, miscellaneous violence mention, sexual violence/assault mention

My thoughts on the first ten arcs of Worm. (contains spoilers)

So, I finally got around to reading Worm. It was kinda big when I was in high school, and I still know some people who are/were into it, so I thought it was time that I gave it a serious shot. I did actually try to read it in high school once, but I couldn’t get into it and stopped reading after the first chapter. I tried to be a little more persistent this time to give it a fair evaluation.

When I started reading Worm this time around, I kind of just breezed past the warning at the beginning (“This story isn’t intended for young or sensitive readers. Readers who are on the lookout for trigger warnings are advised to give Worm a pass.”) I don’t consider myself someone who really gets triggered by media. I think it’s important to talk about stuff, including fucked-up stuff. It’s uncomfortable, but that discomfort is part of the point. I think it probably should bother you to read about terrible things, even fictional ones, given that those fictional atrocities almost always have real-world counterparts.

I think I vastly underestimated the amount of fucked-up-ness that is in Worm. When I read that warning, I thought, “Okay, this story’s probably dealing with some dark themes, and there might be some particular scenes that are really disturbing.” After reading the first ten arcs, though, I feel it’s more accurate to say that fucked-up-ness is Worm. It is the core of the story, and there is really very little else.

So it’s not that any particular thing that happened in the story triggered an immediate, strong, psychologically-damaging reaction in me, but as I continued reading, I began to notice that not only was I not enjoying myself, I was actually finding it subtly unpleasant. When I read about something bad happening, I get hit with a small dose of negative emotion. As it turns out, that adds up over time, especially when there aren’t any positive scenes to balance out the negative stuff. Without me even noticing for a long time, Worm was making me unhappy.

Here’s what I did like about Worm:

Impressive world-building - Wildbow is exceptional at inventing different locations, groups, and individual actors and thus creating a detailed ecosystem of capes and civilians.

Lots of characters, lots of superpowers - Directly related to the previous point, Worm contains a lot of characters...arguably too many characters. I generally prefer stories that focus on a smaller number of characters in order to give each character more room for development, but I appreciate Wildbow’s talent for coming up with vivid, if simplistic, characterizations. There are also some really interesting superpowers and interesting takes on common powers.

Inventive use of Taylor’s superpower - Taylor is always coming up with new uses for her power: having black widow spiders spin silk for her suit, using her bugs are a sixth sense to keep track of her enemies and environment, using venomous bugs to take hostages, covering her body in bugs as a disguise, coating her bugs’ stingers in capsaicin for extra punch, using human-shaped swarms to fake out her enemies...The list goes on and on, and I really appreciate how Wildbow took this oft-overlooked superpower to the next level.

Danny Hebert - The only character in the story who I can say I genuinely like. Danny Hebert is a union organizer whose pet project is getting the ferry up and running again so that there can be more interaction between the poorer and wealthier parts of Brockton Bay. I also loved the scene where he supports Taylor in the “mediation” with her bullies and their parents at school. Even if he was impotent, unable to protect her, I could tell he was on her side. His one screw-up is when he locks Taylor in the living room and tries to force her to talk to him, but it definitely makes sense with his character (a little bit of a pushover) and the story (Taylor was shutting him out and seemed to be putting herself in danger) that he would end up letting Taylor’s grandma convince him to take a forceful approach. Don’t get me wrong, locking up your kid is a horrible thing to do (I should know, my parents did it to me, and it fucked me up), but I still ended up feeling bad for him when Taylor just up and disappeared. She didn’t even call her dad to let him know that she was still alive after Leviathan! I mean, on the one hand, I do actually appreciate that she started making an effort to protect her father from the dangers of her cape life, something that I was kind of appalled to see that she never even considered before. But damn, did I feel bad for Danny.

Here’s what I didn’t like:

Way too much fucked-up shit happening - Name an atrocity, Worm’s probably got it. The plot is mostly just terrible thing after terrible thing and reveals of how terrible all of the characters are, with many terrible things that aren’t directly treated in the plot peppered in along the way.

Lots of capes, no heroes - This is one of those themes that sounds deep on paper but is really just cynical and fatalistic. Even if all the capes are corrupted by power (or by the toxic power dynamics between capes), what about civilians? Where’s the thoughtful therapist or the brave fire-fighter? Danny Hebert is one notable exception to the “Everyone is terrible” rule, but we don’t see all that much of him. Other than him, the only person I can think of who could possibly fit this “civilian hero” role is Aisha’s social worker, who I don’t think even has a name.

All superpowers are evil - This is arguably just a rephrasing of the previous point, but I think it’s important to mention. Worm contains so many superpowers, but it seems like they’re all being put to evil purposes. Panacea, the superheroine with healing powers (really just dominion over health and illness of the human body in general), makes some really despicable threats (e.g. giving someone cancer with a touch, or giving someone a disorder that will only manifest at an unknown time in the future, leaving them to anguish over their fate). Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing inherently wrong with writing a character using this type of power for evil ends. There’s a lot of interesting stuff to explore there, and I actually love that Panacea is a character that acknowledges the burden of having a healing power, feeling unable to take any time for yourself while simultaneously growing to resent those you feel obligated to help. My issue is not with Panacea but with the fact that literally every superpower in the story is painted in a negative light. It just feels absurd to suggest that, for example, someone like Gallant couldn’t use his power (carefully and thoughtfully and with consent) to heal people with emotional trauma. Superpowers in Worm are only for violence and conflict and crime, and I just don’t understand that. Again, the rogues form a token exception, but we rarely actually see them, and one of the first rogues we meet, Canary, is immediately subject to harsh and unjust punishment and never heard from again.

A misguided focus on only certain types of crime/violence - Worm deals with gang violence, robberies, and general chaos-inducing terrorism. It focuses on crimes perpetuated by working-class individuals and small to medium size illicit groups. There’s some commentary on state-sanctioned violence in terms of the corruption of the Protectorate and Dragon’s worries of having to obey a despot should one take over the government, but it’s not exactly framed in a way that highlights the struggles of the average person; the focus is almost entirely on capes. Worm doesn’t discuss things like wage theft, illegal rent hikes, or, dare I say it, the inherent violence of capitalism, which, while less flashy, are important problems with far-reaching consequences. It’s weird, and honestly kind of unrealistic, that there’s not a single anarcho-communist cape. Whether you agree with that kind of politics or not, it’s still a glaring omission if the setting of the story is trying to emulate real life. Again, Danny Hebert’s role as a union organizer and interest in restoring the ferry and reintegrating the city pay token attention to some of these ideas, but the vast majority of the story is unconcerned with addressing the source of, or solutions to, poverty and crime in Brockton Bay and the wider world of Worm.

So those are my thoughts. There’s a part of me that still thinks, “But so many people like this so much! Maybe it’ll get better!” I have a really strong drive to understand why others like the things that they do, to be able to share in their appreciation. But from what I’ve seen in a couple memes I happened upon, things are getting worse, not better for the world of Worm. And even if things start to resolve at some point, I’m not sure it would be great for my mental health to continue reading up to that point.

The breaking point for me, if you’re curious, was when a main character was just casually revealed to be a serial rapist. That wasn’t even the point of the chapter, it was just kind of thrown out there as an extremely-not-fun fact. So I was still reeling from that reveal while also experiencing all of the atrocities said character was committing in the moment, and after that was when I realized, “Hey, maybe this is not the kind of content I should be reading.” It even took reading a few more chapters into Arc 11 for it to really sink in, but I had this weird revelation of like, I get to choose which fictional worlds I spend my time in, and the world of Worm isn’t one I relish.

If you do enjoy Worm, I’d be curious to hear your thoughts on what makes it appealing to you.

[whaleofatjme1920]

HEY B GIMMIE THAT SWEET SWEET RIVAL MATCHUP U ALREADY KNO

You already know who this is but ill still give u a hot rundown: My names Ally, im 20 years old 5’7’’ and a Leo/year of the dragon/INFP. She/They pronouns and im Pansexual but i dont think that matters much in this situation >:P. Appearance wise i have shoulder length curly red hair and green/grey eyes, suuuuper pale skin and freckles. Im def an ambivert, very protective of people who mean alot to me and kind of sharp tempered, especially when people start talking about shit they dont know anything about. Im also a pretty big perfectionist and people pleaser and will beat the FUCK outta myself if i feel like i let people down or made people upset when i could have helped it. But thats all about me, heres those wacky questions!

- Stated before, but im an August Leo! I would say my aura would probably be a pinkish/ purple color? For dislikes i def dont like bitter foods, being too hot, rumors, people talking behind my back, ppl who act like they know what theyre talking about, ppl cutting me off when i lose my train of thought, conservatives, not caring about climate change/the planet in general, tight or restrictive clothes, not having enough time in the day, capitalism, ect. Honestly the most off the wall thing for me that would make me throw hands on sight would probably be someone saying some shit about my close friends behind their back to me.

- Once when I was 14 me and about 10 other people squeezed into a mini van at about 3am and drove around the town, not a single one of us had a license or were over the age of 16, and we were all ridiculously drunk and high the entire time (except the driver. we were underage, not stupid). After driving halfway across the island we got pulled over by cop on the interstate, and he walked up to the car, looked at the driver, then into the passenger seat and saw literally 10 KIDS OBVIOUSLY DRINKING and the car absolutely reeked of bud, then looked back at the driver and simply told him “Your tail light is out. Get home safe” and drove away. Ive never seen god faster than that moment LMAO

- I could never willingly fight a raccoon, youre sick for suggesting that >:/ They are precious boys and ive saved too many from drowning in my pool for me to lay a finger on one. And as for dealbreakers? My biggest one in a relationship is cheating, but thats pretty basic LMAO. I would also say one that’s definitely second in rank would be expecting someone to stay the same through out the relationship and getting upset when the person changes. We are human beings and developing and growing, if you dont support me in that nothing is going to work. I explained a bunch of things i dislike in people above, but ill also add in here people who hurt animals in any way/ litter for no reason. If one of my friends throws a piece of trash out of my car im slammin on the brakes and youre getting out and picking it up. And god forBID you touch an animal around me il doing whatever you did to it to yourself no hesitation.

- I would hate being stuck in a room with anyone, i have decently bad claustrophobia and if we were in there for more than a day i would start bugging out LOL But probably the worst type of person would be someone who just doesn’t shut up and trys to act like they know everything. Those are like, the most insufferable people to me. ESPECIALLY if theyre wrong and refuse to admit it. Whenever i think of being locked in a room, somehow i always imagine like a dark navy blue room with one small window and completely empty floors and walls, everything made out of carpet. Dont ask me why, i have absolutely no clue.

my feed back is ily bitch gimmie a good one i wanna fight a bitch

Your enemy is… Eyeless Jack!

In general:

I told you this yesterday but I wasn’t expecting you to send this in and must've spent like 5 straight minutes wheezing reading this. My gut reaction was Jeff, but based on what you wrote about the room, I’m going to say your enemy is actually Eyeless Jack!

Things he doesn’t like about you and how he pisses you off:

EJ doesn’t like that you’re a Leo. I’m not elaborating on that. He’s such a cold, clinical, heartless bastard that everything you are just goes against whatever tf he actually believes and acts as. I feel like you being a perfectionist would just brush against his perfectionist tendencies and habits. He’d say everything you’re doing is wrong. Just a dick. EJ may or may not exploit your weaknesses but that’s just because he thinks it’s fun and doesn’t like you.

EJ is a god of knowing what he’s talking about and it leads to this cocky, know it all attitude. It’s gonna brush you the wrong way. He knows that and takes joy in it. He will always attempt to one up you in knowledge and grin when he sees you falter. On the other end, if you catch him off guard he’s gonna be SO MAD. He will purposely turn up the heat in your presence just to make you upset. He will breathe down your neck and get in your personal space just to make you more uncomfortable. EJ isn’t anywhere NEAR a conservative or a climate change denier but he will take those positions just to make you mad and laugh over your attempts at arguing with him. Like Jeff, he’s a huge devil’s advocate and will start shit just because he can. I don’t actually think he’d talk about your friends negatively in front of you though, but he would definitely say stuff about you to your face.

EJ thinks it’s stupid you drank underage and will poke that memory. He will use insults about alcohol and the brain despite drinking a ton himself. If you call him out on it, he will fold. Literally throw everything he says about you back at him and he will get puffy and fast. EJ can’t always handle change that well so like, he’s a stubborn guy. Despite how logical he can be and how smart he is, socially he is so uncouth!! EJ doesn’t litter so you don’t have to worry about that but he’s definitely gonna do things that push your buttons, mostly say things that put you off. He’s not claustrophobic. He will put you in situations like that just because he can. The dark navy blue of his mask is going to haunt you. EJ will act like a god in your presence and snarl when you dare question his abilities. CALL HIM OUT. HUMBLE HIM PLEASE.

He agrees on the raccoon thing ngl. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, but EJ has such a soft spot for animals - mostly birds - but he can’t fault you for the raccoon thing. He's also not too fond of litter so he has to agree with you on that one too.

Closing Thoughts/Other Things:

Knowing you for as long as I have, I was so, so ready to actually put you with Jeff. However, the more I read into this the more my intuition screeched that you would actually throw hands with EJ and I find that HILARIOUS. Just the arguments between you and this tall, muscular demon man is just - “what? What? WHAT” It’s beautiful. I’m serious, Merida vs. a literal demon. That’s all. Ily. <3

[whichpercydoyouthink]

The one where Qing Ming is kind of like Robin Hood but is also the adopted father of numourous children and Bo Ya just wanted his job back... or something

So it’s been brought to my attention that The Yin Yang Master (2021) is based on the video game and The Yin-Yang Master: Dream of Eternity (2020) is based on the novel which makes sense now that I’ve watched the former and seen how different they are. I wasn’t aware of this before I watched it, though, and as a result, I couldn’t help comparing it a lot. Which was a mistake because despite sharing the characters Qing Ming and Bo Ya as well as their fictional universe, they are very very different movies with different strengths and weaknesses (apart from their shared beautiful visuals and soundtrack, ofc). During this rant/rave unfortunately I won’t be able to stop myself in the comparisons as that is how I experienced the movie but I will try my best to separate them as much as possible.

BUT, before I do anything else, a summary: we start with a glimpse in the past in which Qing Ming is caught betraying the Yin Yang Bureau (yeah, so apparently there’s an entire BUREAU which explains a lot) and after killing some guy called Ci Mu, and escapes using a Thor-worthy teleportation spell. Skip some years and we have Capital Guard Bo Ya who encounters the rogue Qing Ming when he hijacks the transportation of some tributes and generally annoys the heck out of Bo Ya. When Bo Ya is suspended as a result, he goes on a journey to find Qing Ming in the Monster Realm and arrest him. Along the way he meets a girl called Shen Le equally eager to find Qing Ming. As they find Qing Ming, the pair get caught in a conflict between Qing Ming and literally everyone else, eventually being swept up in a battle to save both the human and monster worlds from the clutches of the great evil wanting to take over the world. Feat: Qing Ming’s dark past and a boss lady called Bai Ni.

One of the things that really stood out in this movie (for me at least) was the rich and colourful world it explored. Seriously, it’s like something out of Star Warsor Guardians of the Galaxy except without the space, and magic instead of guns/lightsabres. There were so many interesting monsters and places to see. I loved Qing Ming’s home and the little world it contained with all his familiars. I also loved the monster city and the Spirited Away-esque bridge thing, that was really cool. It was just so entertaining to see the characters interact with this world even some of them were also discovering with us and it felt big and detailed and creative. This world-building is something I feel this movie did better than Dream of Eternity, if only for the fact that the world felt bigger, and we got a lot more information on things that weren’t necessarily needed for the plot but were still cool to see.

I also enjoyed the fresh characters this movie presented around Bo Ya and Qing Ming. It was kind of like watching an alternate universe but that was also an awesome experience in itself because I got to see Bo Ya and Qing Ming in a different way, in different situations and I got to fall in love with more characters. I thought Shen Le was cool and I loved the sibling-like squabbling she and Bo Ya shared as it filled the Bo Ya and Qing Ming partnership-shaped hole in my heart. Same goes for badass Bai Ni and her more mature old friends-turned-enemies relationship with Qing Ming. The character who became my new favourite was the Red Ghost, though, like seriously, that ability of his was freaking awesome and made him practically indestructible. He also, like, ditched his bully captors and saw Bo Ya as worthy of being his master so he obviously has good taste. In addition, despite what I’m gonna say about the movie’s villains later, I will say that the Snow Lady/Queen was interesting. Her airy voice-thing was slightly annoying, but her powers were cool and it was awesome to see her in a fight scene. She was all swish swish, bendy bendy, ‘join my master’. I definitely liked her better than he-who-shall-not-be-named-but-will-later-be-described (I hope others who have watched are able to guess who).

I gotta say, I really mourned the loss of Bo Ya and Qing Ming’s chance to properly work as a team and bond. I mean, they did reach a place where Qing Ming was amused by the angry child chasing him and Bo Ya grudgingly respected the mischievous Yin Yang Master, but I wanted more scenes where they worked together. I felt they barely had any moments where it was just them. Oh well. That’s just me comparing it to Dream of Eternity too much, I guess.

To be fair, in pushing away Dream of Eternity from my mind, I did really like the new take on both Qing Ming and Bo Ya’s characters. Qing Ming definitely had more of a rule-breaking outcast vibe, and I thought the actor did a fantastic job. Bo Ya was adorable but in a younger, less experienced way. To that end, the relationship between Qing Ming and Bo Ya was less as equals and more of an older/ younger friendship. Which, I guess, isn’t too strange considering in this one, Qing Ming was undoubtably the main character, with less of a chance for them to share the spotlight.

Ok, so, I don’t like to complain, and I don’t say this to warn people away from the movie BUT I can’t deny that (to me) the first half of the movie definitely felt better than the second half. I don’t know, maybe that’s just when the plot really starts to kick in and for me, the plot kind of felt like the let down of the movie. It just didn’t captivate me as much and with kind of terrible villains, it just wasn’t as good for me. I love movies with a good antagonist, particularly one that doesn’t look quite so… ridiculous. Maybe it was just me but the flowing red hair, reindeer horns and giant spider hand-thing didn’t really impress me as much as an immortal snake man who actually has an emotionally driven motivation. The bridge battle didn’t really feel as high stakes as they tried to make it, I don’t know, maybe that was just me. And the way Qing Ming took down the bad guys and the way it ended? Wasn’t really satisfying to me. I guess it leaves room for a second movie? I’m not really sure. (I’m trying really hard not to spoil anything if you can tell.)

No but don’t let that dissuade anyone. Seriously, it’s still a good movie in my eyes and I enjoyed it, especially as it definitely answered a lot of the questions Dream of Eternity left me with. Yes, the plot kind of sucked but the worldbuilding was fantastic and the different realms were interesting to explore. Maybe if you plan to watch both movies, watch this one before Dream of Eternity. That way you will be able to enjoy it without comparing the plot/characters so much AND you’ll be able to go into Dream of Eternity with some knowledge of the world already and maybe come out with less questions. But seriously, they’re good movies separately. So, give it a go, I guess. If you want, that is.

Completely irrelevant side note here (screenshot below) but did Qing Ming in that scene make anyone briefly think of Inuyasha or was I the only one who was reminded my that while watched? No? Just me? Ok. I haven't even watched the anime wth why did I think of this.

[iturbide]

We've got an AU where Buleth jumps ship, an AU where Jeritza jumps ship...whats next, an AU where the Beagles jump ship on a CF route?

If you’re getting technical, the AU where Byleth jumps ship also includes the rest of the Black Eagles doing the same.  But if that’s not what you mean...does the Bad End AU count?  Because Edelgard’s former allies are going to be fleeing almost en masse once the Almyrans cross into Fodlan.

While it’s true that the Black Eagles stay with her through the conquest of Fodlan, within a couple years she’s forced to come clean about Those Who Slither and their part in Arianrhod’s destruction.  This is a massive breach of trust for those who followed her and shatters their confidence, not just in her but in their cause as a whole.  It’s what causes a rift to form between her and Dorothea, not to mention what prompts Bernadetta’s retreat into near-total isolation.  And she just keeps messing up, too, first putting Petra on the force rooting out Those Who Slither -- literally the most dangerous job in the Empire with the highest mortality rate -- and more or less banishing Ferdinand to Hyrm, which is horrific considering what happened to his father there.

(Fun Fact: the former Duke von Aegir’s skeletonized corpse is still mounted in the town square when Ferdie arrives, though he only recognizes it by the remnants of its clothes; he never knew what happened to his father before that moment, and he understandably feels like there’s a target on his back as the man’s son now that he’s been appointed as governor of the territory.)

When Claude and Nika sweep down from the Locket toward Myrddin, they expect that they’re going to meet a lot of resistance -- it’s why they head straight for the bridge without stopping.  But it’s a nearly painless operation, and when Lorenz comes to investigate, he basically drops any pretense of helping the Empire the second he realizes that Claude and Hilda are there.  He immediately jumps to the Almyran side, and Claude puts him in charge of guarding Myrddin with Hilda while he and Nika head north toward Derdriu with plans to push west into the Kingdom once the heart of the Alliance is out of Empire control.

Things are fairly quiet on the Alliance front while they’re gone, with one big exception: Ferdinand receives word about the disturbance, and since Hyrm is so close to the bridge, he’s ordered to dispatch troops to investigate.  Before he can, though, Lorenz sneaks out to meet him -- which is not unusual, since they’ve been meeting fairly routinely since Ferdie got banished.  Lorenz asks the nobleman to meet him at the bridge without reinforcements, and brings him in to try to explain the situation -- though he doesn’t get far before Hilda inserts herself into the conversation.  Lorenz panics because he’d been trying to avoid a confrontation but with him bringing an Imperial into the fort she’s bound to think he’s trying to betray them...and instead she chides Lorenz for not offering poor Ferdinand some tea -- and see if there’s any dinner left, he really looks like he could use a decent meal.  Ferdie, of course, is dumbfounded by the fact that Hilda is here, since she’s supposed to be dead, and more or less just fumbles through questions that she indulgently answers. 

As it happens, Claude had been expecting this situation, more or less: as soon as Lorenz came on board, he had a feeling that the acting head of House Gloucester would try to convince Ferdinand to join them, or at least stand down.  Ignatz had reported on their visits in the past, and Dorothea’s well-meaning vent to him just gave Claude more ammo to work with; Hilda had been expecting the meeting and is more than happy to back Lorenz up in offering Ferdinand protection should he choose to join them.  Ferdinand is reluctant to sign on directly, given that he is still an Imperial citizen...but he does agree not to march on Myrddin, instead relaying a request back to the capital for reinforcements since Hyrm doesn’t have a garrison capable of supplying adequate troops to take the bridge back.

Once Claude and Nika finish up in the Kingdom and push the Imperials back past the ruins of Arianrhod, the Almyran contingent returns to Myrddin and they start their push toward Gronder, “intercepting” Ferdinand on the way and bringing him into the camp because he really will need to see this.  Caspar meets them at Gronder to bar the way, since it’s his home turf...but when it’s Hilda that steps out to face him on the field, he pretty much drops his axe and surrenders to this seeming ghost from his past.  (Hilda had not expected to him to take her appearance that hard, and feels kind of bad by the time she helps him up and shoos him off the field to calm him down before he hyperventilates and passes out).  As they pass Varley territory, Claude takes a small group (including Raph) to investigate and make sure there aren’t any troops waiting to ambush their flank as they pass; they find nothing, but Raph manages to coax Bernie out of her room and brings her back to their camp, where she receives a warm welcome from everyone present.

They continue forward, taking Merceus without significant issue (and the javelins don’t fall because while the Twisted have been driven deeper into hiding, they have no reason to stop Edelgard’s enemies at this point given how she’s shown her true colors at last) and pressing on toward Enbarr.  Once there, Claude doesn’t start with fighting: he starts with an announcement to the city, unveiling the documents that prove Edelgard murdered her step-brother in cold blood on the fields of Tailtean.  Kinslaying is a very serious issue, and the news rocks the capital to its very foundation, though only Dorothea knows how exactly he got that particular piece of information.  Edelgard retreats to the throne room, calling Byleth and Dorothea to her and ordering Petra, Hubert, and the Death Knight to guard the palace grounds.

There’s no stopping Hubert or the Death Knight without bloodshed this time around, though they’re at least able to capture Petra without doing her too much harm (certainly less than she does to them, since she’s still fighting for the people she’s been kept from for almost half her life now).  Claude and Byleth cross blades, with the Almyran prince jokingly offering his gratitude to his old professor since he has a wicked scar for clout now thanks to Teach’s parting gesture.  While they would be evenly matched under normal circumstances, Byleth long ago lost their will to fight for Edelgard’s sake, and they don’t put up their usual fight, allowing Claude to disarm them; Dorothea slips away with Ignatz while the Empress’ attention is on their old professor. 

...and Lin just doesn’t bother with any of it because he’s an academic and a scientist and if he doesn’t have to fight he won’t.  He might not even realize there’s a fight going on until it’s over, but so long as he can keep up his research, he doesn’t much care who wins.

[seerofmike]

Apex Legends AO3 Masterpost [Cryptane Edition]

I did this back in the BNHA fandom so I thought that now I’ve hit 50 fics it’s time to make a masterpost of them again :] ! This post is all 30 of my Cryptane-centric fics and I’ll make a 2nd post with the other 20.

Going in alphabetical order (except for NSFW fics which are all at the very bottom!! scroll past those if u don’t want to see them :]), i’m including word count/rating/status (complete, incomplete). 

If you happen upon this post while there’s no ao3 links refresh it for a bit I’m posting it without the links first so tumblr doesn’t nerf me 

REBLOGS APPRECIATED <3 <3 <3 Help spread my work around !! :D

alright...begin

Boyfriend Reveal: Octane and Crypto go through a portal and come out in each other’s bodies. (T, 6k words, 2 chapters, incomplete)

Dead Names: Trans!Octane experiencing dysphoria, and Crypto reveals he has a dead name of his own. (G, 2.8k, complete)

Dye Job: [this fic can be read as platonic OR romantic] Octane is going gray in his twenties, Crypto helps him dye his hair. (G, 2.1k, complete)

Envy: Mirage is hitting on Octane (maybe) and Crypto gets Fucking Jealous. (T, 6.7k, complete)

Four Oh Three: Crypto has been ‘killed’ by the Syndicate and is now Octane’s bodyguard. Pre-canon but also an AU, longfic. (M, 155k words, 20 chapters, incomplete)

Just Friends: Crypto and Octane aren’t in a relationship but keep flirting. Every other Legend is Tired, with a capital T. (G, 8.1k, complete)

like and subscribe: Crypto and Octane have done multiple interviews and celebrity YouTube videos (think ‘Celebrity Answers The Internet’s Most Asked Questions’ videos). Their relationship is not as secret as they thought. (T, 4.2k, complete)

Morning Follows Night: Trans!Octane gets pregnant and keeps a baby he secretly doesn’t want. Crypto wants the baby but is terrified he’s going to endanger it. A heads-up that their relationship faces a lot of difficulties. (T, 46k words, 6 chapters, incomplete)

My Face Can’t Lie (I’m Into You): Octane steals Crypto’s jacket. Crypto Wants Revenge. (T, 4.3k, complete.)

Not So Different: Octane has ADHD and is like 99% sure Crypto also has ADHD but Crypto doesn’t wanna hear it. (T, 6k, complete)

Olivia: Crypto has a fucking diary like a loser and badly disguises the fact that he has a crush on Octane by calling him ‘Olivia’. (T, 5.1k, complete)

Person of Interest: Crypto is very mysterious and Octane wants to learn more about him because he’s exciting in that way. Kind of a 5+1 fic but without the +1. (T, 16.9k words, 2 chapters, complete)

Prenuptial: Octane’s father comes to visit established Cryptane. Dun-dun-dun. (T, 3.5k, complete.)

Red Flavor: Octane goes through Crypto’s things and discovers his terrifying, dangerous, horrible secret--he’s a kpop stan. (T, 2.1k, complete)

Rose Bowl: Half chatfic, established long-distance relationship Cryptane finally meet up...at a BTS concert. Actual literal crime ensues. (T, 12k, complete)

Roughhousing: Octane is Pissed(tm), Crypto doesn’t know why. Doesn’t really care once his boyfriend starts biting him. (non-explicit) (M, 4.6k, complete)

Same Damn Hunger: [BIG TRIGGER WARNING FOR PAST CSA, NEVER EXPLICITLY DESCRIBED]. Octane has bad coping mechanisms, one of those being sex. Crypto is just another name added to the list. (non-explicit) (M, 9k, complete)

Sharing: Mirage/Octane/Crypto, Miroctane and Cryptane but not Cryptage. Crypto and Mirage are petty and try to get Octane’s attention on his birthday. (T, 2.8k, complete)

Subtlety: Octane wakes up in Crypto’s lap. (G, 900 words, complete)

Tease: Octane sees Crypto in glasses and he’s pretty sure it’s the second coming of Jesus Christ. Slightly sexy things follow. (non-explicit) (M, 2.5k, complete)

Until The Sun Comes Up: Percy Jackson AU, Octane is the son of Dionysus. Crypto left camp a couple years back and suddenly shows up one day. Octane’s kind of pissed. (T, 29.4k words, 3 chapters, complete)

Weakness: Crypto wonders if he should allow himself to like Octane. (T, 5.6k, complete)

Your Choice: Octane asks Crypto if Crypto will miss his boobs if he gets top surgery. Understandably, Crypto has no fucking idea how to respond. What the fuck Octane. (T, 2k, complete)

NSFW (all rated E)

Certain kinks or NSFW elements will be tagged in case that’s not your thing. EVERYTHING is ALWAYS consensual. fuck noncon

(all of these fics are trans Octane because trans Octane is simply superior and also canon /j.)

Giving In: Vampire!Crypto doesn’t want to drink from his boyfriend because he’s afraid he’s going to like it a little Too much. (4.4k words, complete) [blood drinking]

No Need To Rush: Octane always wants it fast, but one night Crypto takes it slow. (3.9k words, complete) [octane uses a strap-on]

Off-Season: They have sex for the first time. (2.4k, complete) [involves use of a sex toy, no actual penetration aside from a d/ldo]

Rush: Crypto ties Octane up. (2.7k, complete) [bondage, some spanking, light dom/sub undertones? forgive me this was. a gift fic for someone and i dont rly know how to write bdsm stuff FKJEFNKFNK)

Shower Talk: Octane catches Crypto jerking off in the shower. They fuck. (9k, complete). [semi-public sex, not an established relationship but (resolved) sexual tension]

Smile! You’re On Camera: Octane wants to be tied up and filmed because he’s Like That. Crypto begrudgingly agrees. (8.5k words, complete) [involves use of a fuck machine, some bondage and slight dom/sub undertones but not explicit]

Up The Ante: Crypto and Octane make a bet, and end up entering a sort of friends-with-benefits arrangement because of it. Very dubious on the ‘friends’ part. (32k words, 3 chapters, incomplete) [semi-public sex, sexting, octane uses a strap-on again, kind of enemies to lovers but the enemies is mild and one-sided on Crypto’s part)

[number5theboy]

The notes I took while reading the comics are under the cut. These are not my ordered thoughts, just thoughts I had while reading. I’ll write something more coherent a bit later, once my thoughts are sorted better than these

APOCALYPSE SUITE

Diego repeatedly stabbed a Caravaggio, which just personally offends me. Also @ Reginald the fact that you left a Caravaggio in reach of your KIDS, who have KNIVES, is just as insulting. Someone save that Caravaggio since anything and anyone else is beyond saving

“Inexplicable resemblance to an Ingmar Bergmann extra” askjdsgbkdsbhsd Gerard sir that is so oddly specific. Is Reginald an Ingmar Bergman fan. Is that what you’re trying to tell us. Or is Klaus just a silent movie type

Right off the bat, the comics universe is so much more interesting than the show universe. They have boxers who beat up squids like??? Give us an adaptation with the comic world, preferably animated

The kiddos were all born to “mostly single women” dsbksdgbksdgbdsg??? Did the magical alien thingamajig check their relationship status first?

“Inventor of The Televator, The Levitator, The Mobile Umbrella Communicator, and Clever Crisp Cereal” dgdsghsgdhjsdkjhg Reginald names his inventions like Dr. Doofenschmirtz from Phineas and Ferb

Also the page that reveals/introduces Reginald is SO good, just the panelling and the action tells you so much. There’s dead bodies and excavations and masks in addition to text. It’s great.

“The Day The Eiffel Tower Went Berserk” is an EXCELLENT hook to a story

“It’s your Eiffel Tower, it’s gone insane and must be stopped at all costs.” Dksgdhjbkgsdhjbdsghjb the show could never

This comic keeps disrespecting cool art. Why is it doing that to me. Don’t let the musée d’orsay get robbed

Okay, luther came through for me on that

Dsdhlsdghlgsdhldsh the siblings arguing while the Eiffel Tower is falling apart around them had me cackling

“WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE” dsbdgsbgsdbdgsbklsd okay diego

“And just as I suspected – ZOMBIE-ROBOT GUSTAVE EIFFEL!” hello I need at least three comics of back lore on this. Why does luther have that hunch. Why is Gustave Eiffel a zombie-robot. How did we get here. Please I want answers

The missing line on the ‘e’ of ‘touché’ makes that dramatic moment way less dramatic and more funny ngl

Oh but you can be bothered to put the accent aigu on ‘séquence’

“And while you lost the Eiffel Tower, you saved Paris.” I am laughing too hard by this point. How dare this be a barely brushed upon adventure. Please I need to know more about zombie-robot Gustave Eiffel

Te Ben-robot makes me emotional and “Only my father calls me Number One”? ouch.

Also for the record, I love Luther’s design SO much

“Hello your father is dead. Please audition for my orchestra for revenge. Many thank. Bye.” Okay Conductor, whatever floats your boat, I guess

“and something worse is coming” dbhsdghbjgshbjsgbjhkgf okay Five, whatever floats your boat I guess

Allison immediately coming in with the ‘I know everyone blames you for Ben’s death, Luther, but honestly, who the fuck knows?’ dsbgbhdgshbsgdhkbj

Klaus has such an entrance and I honestly didn’t know that Claire was a comic character

The introduction to the apocalypse comes SO the fuck out of nowhere, but grumpy little Five with the ‘I knew I shouldn’t have run away from home’ speech bubble? Awesome

Also just genuinely interesting that Five truly hated Reginald and was aware of these feelings

The apocalypse introductions in the show and the comic are going for different feelings but they are both equally devastating, which is a nice touch

Also someone give show! Five a sword

Comic Diego is a fuckboy, and that’s obvious from a hundred paces

Apparently Grace makes me sad in any incarnation

Okay but the backdoor of the Icarus in the show is lifted straight out of the comics

I love the Conductor’s design so much, and his introduction is so good

Oh my god someone get a language checker, The Orchestra Verdammten doesn’t even make grammatical sense

I love the Conductor, he is so extra and just the concept of a piece of music that destroys the world…….it fucks so hard

This comic just throws wild shit at you and expects you to keep up

Just read the instructions Dr. Terminal gave his bots. Is he okay.

Why does Dr. Terminal want to eat Finland. Please I need to know what’s going on in that head of his

Gabriel Ba has excellent comedic timing

Five is a bitch and I love him

Diego hiding in a haunted house…….what a drama queen

Klaus is so fucking funny oh my god

Diego is so hilariously bitter towards Vanya. No need to destroy her like that, asshole

Love how Diego single-handedly brought about the apocalypse. What an idiot.

Dr. Pogo deserves the world

The Vanya reveal of powers is a bit. Uh. Underwhelming. Love the Frankenstein set-up tho

The art, man……..it’s so good

Comic Luther is SO savage holy shit

I love you Mister Conductor, but please stop butchering languages I know, thanks

I knew he was gonna die, but I am still hurt. Please bring him back, he’s the best character in this

“I don’t know where to begin…But I suppose I should start with the Kennedy assassination.” Okay five you drama queen

Allison is a bitch, and I mean that as a compliment

Honestly these Five and Vanya are made to be enemies, it’s great

HELL YEAH YOU GO KLAUS

This wraps up a little too nicely. Where did the moon boulder go

DALLAS

Sagfdghjasfkjghdsfjhksfhkj it opens with a ‘by the way, I’m still dead’ from Pogo

I can’t believe TUA directly inspired Night at the Museum 2: Battle of the Smithsonian

No seriously, I knew about sentient monument Abraham Lincoln but this entire scene FUCKS

Dsbksgdbhsgbhksgdhbkj Celebrity Surgery, the big popular reality TV show, I’m laughing

Luther and Klaus are both such messes jeesus, even if Klaus is coping better

Allison immediately kidnaps Vanya and exposes her to all the horrible shit she caused?? Dbgbhjdgkjhbgdhkj I love these versions of the characters

While Show!Diego is Walmart Batman, Comic!Diego is Walmart Rorschach

I thought I got the gazelle speech but now I’m just confused

It literally is an epiphany AND WHAT GOT HAZEL AND CHA-CHA SENT ON HIS ASS I’M

CACKLING

Also that one wordless Hazel and Cha-Cha panel……..so good

Five is a communist lmao Diego

Luther and Diego arguments are tedious in both versions

I hate the Marilyn Monroe ape scene. With a passion. It is so cursed

Also show Hazel and Cha-Cha were partners that grew apart. I think comics Hazel and Cha-Cha are in love

I am every killer ever. That is one cute puppy.

Also Klaus and God is great in every universe

Dsjfghjdhjdgjhbdgbjhkdbkjhgb Five’s face when he is outfoxed

Why do dream!Luther and Allison have am ape cyclops daughter

I love the Luther&Klaus dynamic

This is just a remix of Watchmen

I have no idea why they suddenly know what Five is up to, from the corpse of a Commission agent. What.

Wait now they can use corpses as time travel devices. What.

Okay, Klaus accidentally blew up the world. Cool?

I am so confused

Now Diego Klaus and Luther are fighting vampires in Vietnam and hurling mummies through the bush. Okay.

So Pogo always knew what kind of disasters they’d turn into? Dskbgdsbkhsdgbkgsdkh

THE WHOLE JFK ASSASSINATION ARC IS AMAZING

HOTEL OBLIVION

Hotel Oblivion really just presents a cockroach on a plate to you, huh

Reginald’s aesthetic is seriously so much cooler than he deserves

EVIL IS THE NAME OF THE FIRST PART OF HOTEL OBLIVION?!? I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE MR. AIDAN GALLAGHER

Five is a hired gun now?!? Man, that dude cannot catch a break ever

“TV is a healthy alternative to dying” esjkdsgbkgskbhdsgkbes

Who is Luther’s Japanese bro?!?

Also I just kind of really like the Luther&Diego dynamic in the comics

The show robbed us of Allison helping Vanya recover. It robbed us of Vanya getting injured in the first place, so what recovery, but still. This is incredibly sweet

God, all the villains in this universe are so intriguing. Except for Knock-Off-Adrian-Veidt, I keep forgetting that Perseus exists

“I’m a haunted house.” Is so metal as a self-descriptor

What the FLYING FUCK is Klaus doing there

Giant chicken?

The Enterprise???

“What are you doing?” “A report. I’m really interested in capitalism.” Djhsgjgskjvsevksevjesvjsefjv maybe Diego is right and Five is indeed a communist

“I know what it feels like to be unloved. I was born an object, and never treated as anything but.” It really was that bad, wasn’t it?” “For the both of us, yes.” B R U H

Evil Grace is fun

I love Allison and Five and their relationship so much

Five is interested in the stock market??

I am way too emotionally invested in whether Murder Magician and his baby make it out of there

Oh I CANNOT believe their romantic loves for their SISTERS is what unites them. I hate this.

What on earth is going on with Perseus and the flying head of Medusa

Alive Ben 😊☹

I am an idiot for not making the Perseus-Medusa connection sooner.

The Eiffel Tower now looks like the love child of the actual Eiffel Tower and the Atomium.

And now the Dr. Manhattan knock-off is here

God I love Allison so much

What the fuck is Pereus on about

Terminal eats a zoo

Scientific Man borders on plagiarism I’m sdhbgshsvjhksfvjksdjhkdsj

No no no no no not the Murder Magician

This whole baby arc makes me so soft

HELL YEAH LUTHER

Well this ended on a cliffhanger

[underthewingsofthblackeagle]

“Berliner Fernsehturm” * Foto: BernardoUPloud

After her marriage with Frank Randall has failed and Claire Beauchamp flees from her violent husband, she finds refuge in the house of the Fraser/Murray family in Berlin-Wilhelmshorst. But then tensions arise between Britain (which has since left the EU) and some EU member states. All holders of an English passport are required to leave EU territory within six weeks … and suddenly Claire’s fate looks more uncertain than ever.

This story was written for the #14DaysofOutlander event, hosted by @scotsmanandsassenach​

Chapter 7: 14 Men (3)

        "Your name is not Etienne Marcel de Provac Alexandre? But you have a passport..."

        "Yes, I have a passport in that name. And this passport is not fake. It "s real. I ..."

        Claire saw non-Etienne kneading his hands, but he stopped immediately when he noticed her look.

        "I use that name because it's too dangerous for me to travel under my real name."

        "Why is that?"

        "Because otherwise I might be kidnapped, taken to a maximum security prison and put away for life for treason."

        Only later would she admit, admit it to herself. But the thought that this man, whoever he really was, would be locked up for the rest of his life, that thought stabbed Claire's heart.

        "Then who on earth are you?"

        "My name is James Fraser, you can call me Jamie."

        Claire's eyes had widened in astonishment. Then she said slowly, as if in shock:

        "James Fraser? The James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser? Lord Broch Tuarach?"

        Jamie was in shock. But before he could ask how she knew his full name, Claire went on:

        "You are one of the 14 New Jacobites. You are one of the leading men of the Scottish Independence Movement. You have fled Scotland with your family and are said to be somewhere in Europe. The government of Vladimir de Salty Brownson has put a bounty on your head."

        Claire clapped her hands together in front of her face.

        They were silent for a moment. Then Jamie asked:

        "How do you know all this, Claire?"

        For a moment, she seemed to be struggling, but then she said:

        "My husband, Frank. He's not just a historian, he's not just a professor at Harvard. He's also worked for the Ml5 ... and still does. You ... and the 14 New Jacobites are the centre of his work."

“Bibliothek” by StockSnap   

        After these mutual revelations, they fell silent for a while. Only slowly did the implications of those confessions begin to take shape in their minds. Claire was the first to find her voice again. She leaned over to Jamie and carefully put her hand on his arm:

        "Mr. Fraser ..."

        Jamie didn’t answer, but stared in front of him. .

        "James ..." she tried again.

        "Jamie, call me Jamie, Claire."

        "Jamie, you don't need to worry. I won't betray you or your family. I have no interest in that whatsoever. Please believe me. I have no sympathy for the government of Vladimir de Salty Brownson, nor for," she faltered for a moment, "the monster whose drunken vengeance you saved me from only 36 hours ago."

        He had guessed. When he saw Frank Randall come through the door into the hall, he had guessed. And if he was honest to himself, deep down, he had known. It couldn't be a coincidence. They looked too much alike for that. And that face ... that awfully ordinary face ... that mask of conformist commonality ... and then that mediocre stature. Not too short, not too tall, not too thin, not too fat. A person you meet and forget in a few days. But he was not as harmless as he looked. On the contrary. He was not a man without qualities. Jamie knew it. He had literally experienced it firsthand.

        He looked at Claire again. And slowly, Jamie realized what the hectic pace of the past two days had clouded in his thinking:

        If Frank Randall was related to Jonathan "Black Jack" Randall (and he had to be, because they were just too much alike), then she, too, must have gone through unspeakably bad things.

        "Jamie?"

        Claire's voice was now back in his ear.

        No, Claire would never betray him or his family, he was sure of that. The common enemy, the common threat, made her a natural ally. But what if Frank Randall recognized him despite his drunken condition? He had to take the necessary steps to protect himself, Claire, and of course his family.

        Jamie took another deep breath.

        "I trust you, Claire. But ... we still need to take some precautions, for your sake and ours."

        Claire wanted to ask him what kind of precautions he was talking about, but at that moment there was a knock at the door.

        Jamie shouted, "Come in!" and Helen Ballin appeared to inform them that lunch was ready.

        "We'll be right there," he replied and the housekeeper closed the door of the library behind her.

        "As I said, Claire, we must take some precautions. That is why I will need to speak with ... those friends ... who have helped me and my family to find a safe exile here. They are the same ... friends who helped me to bring you here safely. I have to inform them ... as soon as possible ... and I think they would like to speak to you as well. Would you be willing to do so?"

        She nodded.

        "Yes, of course."

        "Fine, but first we're going to have lunch."

“Esstisch” by RealAKP         The lunch that Jamie and Claire had with Ian and Jenny in the dining room was lively with animated conversation. Jamie had told Claire that he would not tell his family about the developments concerning Frank Randall until he had spoken to his "friends".

        As they ate and Claire followed the casual conversation, her thoughts kept wandering to the question of who these "friends" could be. They had to be people in influential economic or political positions. That much was clear to her. Who else could have such possibilities as she had seen them at work in Jamie's life for the past two days? No, he had to have significant connections. Relationships in the influential circles of this country. But how did he come to have them?         Traditionally, France, Spain and Ireland had been allies of Scotland. Germany, especially the Hanoverians, were more likely to be the country's opponents. Should that have changed in the meantime? Frank had mentioned nothing of the sort. Anyway, Frank was not very happy about the "Nazis" on the other side of the big pond. Like Margaret Thatcher, he felt that "those" should never have been allowed to reunite their country. These people could not be trusted and he was sure that even seven decades of a democratic state could not hide the fact that these barbarian Huns were just waiting for the opportunity to subjugate Europe again. For this reason, Frank had enthusiastically welcomed both the Brexit and the rise of Vladimir de Salty Brownson. She remembered very well how enthusiastic he was when Prime Minister Terry Mary June failed with her Brexit negotiations and had to resign. Claire had not forgotten the sarcasm with which Frank had commented on this event. "Women," he had said in a snide tone, "should stay out of politics on principle. After all, that's something for rational beings." Claire had listened to all this, but  hadn't given it any meaning. Since the age of five, she had travelled the world with her uncle Lambert, but she had never been to Germany. And she refused to pass judgement on people she had never met. But she was silent, because at that point she had already learned that it would not be good for her if she contradicted Frank. When Jamie had asked her if she would accompany him to Germany, she had only one thought: Frank would not follow her into that country willingly.

        "Claire, some more wine?"

        Ian's question had interrupted her thoughts.

        "Yes, please."

        She held out her glass to him and Ian filled it.

        After they finished the dessert, Jamie thanked Jenny for the meal.

        "You'll have to excuse Claire and me. We have things to discuss."

        Ian and Jenny nodded. Claire followed Jamie through the hall to the terrace behind the house. There, in a sunny spot, were some armchairs with cushions around a round table. Jamie asked Claire to take a seat in one of the armchairs and sat opposite her. Claire did not wait for Jamie to start talking.

“Sitzecke” by  fietzfotos         "Who are these 'friends' you spoke of, Jamie?"

        "They're ... people my uncle Jared was already friends with. He had built up a pan-European wine trade out of Paris. And in most of the European capitals where he had subsidiaries, he not only bought real estate, but also made contact with ... influential people. He was a gifted networker. Of course, there were and are former friends of my uncle in Berlin.

        "Who are now also your friends, or friends of your family.”

        "Exactly. And these people will also be your friends, because you are friends with my family.”

        "Friends of friends, so to speak?"

        "You say it. Unless ... you don't want to.”

        "No, I have already told you that I trust you, and ... that I have no sympathy for the government of Vladimir de Salty Brownson or for ... his follower in Boston."

        She was silent for a moment.

        "Is there anything I have to do? Do these friends expect anything from me?"

        "I think they will ask nothing from you except secrecy."

        "Do you think they will allow me to stay here, I mean, in this country?"

        "I think so. And I will, of course, do my best to secure your stay ... unless you don't want me to. Is there any other country that you'd like to go to ..."

        "No, no. Not at the moment. I ..."

        “... you would like to stay and rest for a while?"

        "Yes ...”

        "I have no doubt that you will be allowed to do so. Now, if you'll excuse me a moment."

        Jamie got up and went to the opposite end of the terrace. Once there, he pulled his smartphone out of his pocket and dialed one of the numbers that connected him to the "management" of “In Vino Veritas”.

        "Ferdinand? It's me, Etienne. There are certain delivery problems regarding the wine from California. It would be good if we could discuss this inj person ... Could you join us for dinner tonight?"

        He was silent for a moment.

        "Yes, 7:00 pm is fine. I look forward to it."

        He hung up and put the phone back in his pocket. Then he went back to Claire.

        "Did you reach your friend?”

        "Yes, he'll be joining us for dinner tonight and we can talk afterwards. Is that okay with you?"

        "Yes, although I'd like to lie down again."

        "Certainly."

        Jamie reached out to her and helped her get up.

        "Is it the elderly gentleman who greeted you in the underground car park?" Claire asked as they went back into the house.

        Jamie looked at her for a moment, then smiled and said:

        "No, this is also a ... friend, but he doesn't have the ... authority that is needed now. I'm going to introduce you to him tonight."

        They said goodbye at the elevator and as it left, Jamie turned to the door leading to the living room. Jenny and Ian were waiting there. He had to inform them of the developments and the dangers that his meeting with Claire Beauchamp had set in motion. Reluctantly, he reached for the doorknob.

“Wohnzimmer” by JamesDeMers

        When Jamie had finished and reached again for the whisky glass that Ian had put for him and refilled once before, his sister and brother-in-law looked at him in shock.

        "And you are sure it is really a relative of Jonathan Randall?” asked Jenny incredulously.

        "Unfortunately yes," Jamie admitted.

        Silence filled the living room.

        "I hope you don't think I'm putting us all intentionally in danger ..."

        "Jamie! We know you didn't mean to put us in danger. Do you think Claire will ..."

        "Ian," Jenny now interfered, "if her husband is as brutal as his relative, then I don't want to imagine what her body looks like under her clothes. And if she's thinking of turning on us, we might as well tell her what her husband's relative did to us."

        Jenny looked grim.

        "Please," Jamie turned to her again, "I don't think that's necessary for now. Tonight Ferdinand will speak to her and I have no doubt that he knows exactly how to explain the urgency of the whole matter to her. I think it would be wiser to get to know her better first and build a good relationship with her. One doesn’t betray the people who are good to you."

        "You forget, my dear brother, that 10 Downing Street has put a bounty on your head and 10 million pounds is something to be considered," Jenny said.

        "Yes, perhaps in England, but not in Europe or anywhere else in the world. And if the economy continues like this, at some point you will need 10 million pounds to buy a loaf of bread. No, I think Claire is neither greedy for money nor so crazy that she wants to return to England at the moment. Even before I offered her to come with me, she asked me how far Berlin was from Boston or London. I think she needs to put a distance as great as possible between her husband and herself."

        "Are you sure we can still live here? Will they continue to protect us, won't they?"

        Ian's gaze was serious.

        "There's no question about it. I don't know if we can stay right here or if we have to move to another place. But I'm sure they'll keep protecting us. Remember: Not only do they know something about us, we know a lot about them as well. And moreover we have common goals - when the time is ready. I will not jeopardize that, nor do I think Ernst is stupid enough to do so."

        Jamie's brother-in-law nodded.

        "Let's wait and see what tonight's conversation brings," he then said and reached for his whisky glass.

“Wohnen in weiss” by  RainerSturm  / pixelio.de           Claire had returned to her room. She felt exhausted and would have liked to get some sleep. But after the previous conversation with Jamie, that was out of the question. She slipped out of her shoes and began to make one round after the other through her room. Unconsciously she had crossed her arms in front of her chest. Now and then she stopped in front of one of the windows and looked out. At some point she stopped in front of the fireplace and stretched out her arms over the entire mantelpiece. A sigh escaped her throat. So many questions suddenly rushed at her. If she revealed to Jamie's friends, who obviously belonged to the political and certainly also to the secret service circles of this country, the information she had learned through her marriage to Frank, wouldn't she become a traitor to her country? Would she not sell her birthright in this way for a lentil dish? And with all the negative feelings she had built up against Frank - would she put his life in danger by her actions? Once more she went a few rounds through her room. Then she decided that she had to talk to Jamie about these questions.

        When Claire knocked on the door of the living room a few moments later, Jenny's voice was heard. She opened and entered.

        "Oh, hi, Claire!"

        "Jenny, I'm sorry to bother you.”

        "It’s o.k., Claire. What can I do for you?"

        "I need to talk to Jamie, but it seems, he is not in his room ...”

        "Ah, that's not surprising. He's in the gym and should have finished his daily workout by now. Come on, I'll show you where to find him.”

        Jenny, who had been sitting on the couch while knitting, stood up and came towards her. Then she led Claire down the hall to a door under the stairs. When Jenny opened it, Claire saw a staircase that led to the basement of the house.

        "Down here, then immediately to the left. Continue straight down the hallway until you come to the door with the small window. That’s the gym. You can't miss it. Just walk in. Jamie usually has his headphones in there when he works out, so he can't hear anyone knocking.

        "Thanks, Jenny."

“Fitnessraum” by lewisgoodphotos         She descended the stairs, followed Jenny's directions, and a minute later Claire was standing outside the door described, which she opened without knocking.

        Throughout her medical studies, Claire had seen many horrible images. And what she saw in the emergency room where she later worked had often been just as bad. Except that the injuries were no longer just pictures, but injuries inflicted on living humans. That which had been bad but far away during her studies had come close and seemed all the more terrible to her. But Claire had never seen something like that, what she saw when she walked through the door of Jamie Fraser's gym. Later she would realize that this experience gave her the answers to all her questions.

[syzygyzip]

Solaire is the Sandworm and Other Apocrypha

What follows is an essay about Knight Solaire, a character from Dark Souls 1. The essay discusses his metatextual influence, his symbolic import, and a few theories about his supposed fate in Dark Souls 3.

On the Nature of Headcanon Canon as a concept adopts different rules when it comes to videogames. More concretely than in other artforms, the content of the game changes according to its witness. You can’t account for another person’s playthrough, so you are obligated to trust their story—within reason. A player can tell you that they beat a boss without taking a single hit. That’s reasonable. A player can say that they saw an enemy clip through a wall, placing it in an otherwise empty environment. Could be true, might want to see footage, but reasonable. Further out, a player can tell you that a completely unprecedented game-object appeared out of nowhere, started flying around and corrupting objects. This is unlikely, but, like some crytptozoological encounter, could be explained away by the witness’ misapprehension (maybe a hacker invades the game and thwarts the rules).

Just like witnessing the mothman or other spectral phenomena in real life, the person’s impression of the event is real. To borrow Jung’s term, it is a subjective fact of the psyche. Because it is “of the psyche,” it describes the psyche.

Physical is not the only criterion of truth: there are also psychic truths which can neither be explained nor proved nor contested in any physical way. If, for instance, a general belief existed that the river Rhine had at one time flowed backwards from its mouth to its source, then this belief would in itself be a fact even though such an assertion, physically understood, would be deemed utterly incredible. Beliefs of this kind are psychic facts which cannot be contested and need no proof.

[…] The psyche is an autonomous factor, and religious statements are psychic confessions which in the last resort are based on unconscious, i.e., on transcendental processes.” (Jung, Carl pars. 553-555).

Unusual things will happen in games, and still more unusual things will be perceived to happen. What happens “off-screen” in the game world has no true authority, not even from the developers, because every player acts as a co-author. Some fan theories are formed by mentally structuring objects and events. Other fan theories seem to spring forth fully formed from the inky off-screen unconscious; in this case, for the theorist it feels more like a discovery than a construction. But most headcanons are a composite. Theories and headcanons are also informed by the meta-culture—by what a game and its characters have become in the eyes of “the community.” Black Iron Tarkus, for instance, has no lines of dialogue in any game, but has developed a personality and prestige from his interpretation by the fandom. Such occurrences are almost a matter of course. Games, especially when they reach franchise-level popularity, spawn stories and memes. The game reveals content not programmed by its developers. It is doubtful that anyone at FromSoft foresaw Tarkus’ fandom. Nor would any on the staff have guessed that a few discrete game items (Giant’s Armor, Havel’s Ring, the Mask of the Father, etc) would cohere into a folk hero called Giant Dad. I say “folk hero,” though he is a scourge to many. This “character,” who is really just an exploitative blend of game mechanics, would be made, remade, imitated, elevated to memetic and then iconic status. Most other archetypes in Dark Souls are divided into their attributes: Helm of Artorias, Sword of Artorias, etc. Giant Dad is the reverse: he is constellated by his attributes; none of them alone hold his pneuma.

The Knight Solaire is more famous than either of these figures. Like Artorias, he is a character specifically designed to appeal and to exist in relation to; and yet like Giant Dad, he is a fan-fueled nexus of meme. Beyond both of these capacities is the degree to which he emanates himself beyond the franchise. His catchphrases “Praise the Sun!” and “jolly cooperation” have taken on a life outside of Dark Souls—a scope of renown unreached by Giant Dad. Especially noteworthy is his corresponding emoticon \[T]/ How many pop cultural icons can be summed up in 5 pieces of unicode? He has also been coagulated into an Amiibo, which is another ontologically ambiguous prestige, occupying a strange corner between meatspace, the virtual, and the symbolic apparatus of capitalism. But he is not quite so easily as commodified, as a Squid Kid or an Isabelle. He is not moe like they are. He does not have a face. But that is not say he is featureless: he has a personality and a mystique that coheres throughout his diegetic presence, his cross-cultural memetic tendrils, and his various costumes in headcanon. What force accounts for this coherence? No archetype can be summed up into a single definition or personality, but the style by which they draw attributes and myths around them allows us some understanding.

The Knight of the Sun When encountered in Dark Souls 1, the character of Solaire presents a rare locus of optimism. He is standing in the sunlight, staring into the sky in quiet appreciation. He is immediately friendly and encouraging to the player, and gives them the tool of “jolly cooperation.”

I want to emphasize how much Solaire’s demeanor stands out in the milieu. Though he is encountered at an early point, the game has already introduced the player to an extremely dismal and unforgiving world. They have likely met many overpowering obstacles and dejected NPCs, and begun to realize how scarce is the refuge of the bonfire. It doesn’t take much exposure to Lordran to take on its infectious loneliness. Solaire’s optimism cuts through this bleak fog like a lighthouse, and he literally gives the player the key to online collaboration. From another gameplay standpoint, consider how the player has become conditioned to dark corners, to ambushes, and fatal surprises; to visually scouring the environment like a rat, wary of predators and keen to spot a glowing treasure. For a moment, Solaire stops the desperate scavenging to direct your attention to the skybox. These contemplative silences have become a signature of the Souls series, but this is perhaps the first directed instance.

This is to say that Solaire is the first personification of goodwill that the player meets, so early into their journey, and is thus easily wrapped up into that symbolism. As the player’s relationship to the world takes on new dimensions (not simply new game areas, but entirely new spheres: online play, community discourse, lorekeeping), the symbol of Solaire follows them. In online play, he pops up as someone’s cosplay—and spectacularly, most of these sunbros, these independent actors, will reflect his behavior accurately! In Souls communities, Solaire is almost omnipresent, as people will post his slogan or his emoticon as a way of communicating affirmation, respect, or pure joy. There are other things to like about Solaire, like the fact that he is relatively powerful as an ally in boss fights, that he has the cool lightning move, or that it is revealed his armor is “average,” and that his strength comes from some inner source. Another element that should not be underestimated is the psychological potency of his implicit longing for a father. It goes without saying that the motif of the absent father has been especially compelling in the 21st century, ubiquitous in mass media, and often exploited by advertisers, etc. Beyond that, Solaire is searching “for his Sun,” an object which can be interpreted countless ways; suffice it to say it is a timeless and recognizable symbol of purpose and wholeness.

For all these reasons and more, Solaire is an easy point of projection for the player. He is an image both relatable and aspirational; he is average and exceptional. He is savvy, strong, and kind, and never in hyperbolic measure. He realistically represents a player’s best traits. The quality of his goodness is unspecific and broad; it becomes an anchor point for any virtue a player may value, as can be seen in the varied mutations he takes on in the subculture, becoming in turn funkier, wiser, more heroic. This trait of mutability, in itself, is generous! In a game that is by now famous for its therapeutic value in treating depression, Solaire’s influence should not be disregarded. Here is an illustrative example of the potential effect of Solaire on a player, posted to reddit by user unsuppressedYay:

Like most, when I was playing Dark Souls, I was in a very bad time of my life (which was incidentally only a couple months ago). I was at a college that I hated, with roommates who were not accepting of me, and many friends who had stopped hanging out with me. The only joy I would have is going home on the weekends, playing Dark Souls until I accomplished something and then going out to see my friends from back home. In this dark time i had isolated myself from most people during the week and was lonely and didn’t accomplished much, as such my grades also suffered. it was a bad time.

By playing dark souls, I felt accomplishment after getting through a particularly tough area or beating a boss. It gave me a reason to go on, that I would continue in the doomed world of lordran where i had to reach a fire with no good ending. It gave me encouragement to continue in my own life and applying to a different college and get my life back on track.

So to the point. I had accidentally spoiled what happened to Solaire. but I was still unable to stop it. I thought the chaos bugs were the big bugs in the lava after lost izalith. I felt so guilty and like I actually lost someone I cared about. I felt the obligation to wear his armor until the very end of the game. It made things significantly harder because of how weak it was compared to normal armor, but I stuck with it. The item description from the armor was something along the lines of saying that Solaire had no special power or magic, like we did. He made the armor himself, and was strong through his dedication and work ethic and never willing to give up to get his sun. So thanks Dark Souls and thanks Solaire for reminding me that optimism is the best way to go about things.

tl;dr cheesy story about dark souls helping me get through tough time, and feeling obligation to beat the game with solaires armor due to his wonderful optimism, and guilt over his death.

 Even if a player doesn’t specifically don Solaire’s armor in tribute, they likely integrate some aspect of his character in other ways. It can be as simple as performing the Praise the Sun gesture before a boss or upon victory. Miraculously, the gesture conveys the attitude quite plainly. The phrase “what happened to Solaire” alludes to the tragic fate that befalls him if the player does not intervene: he goes hollow in Lost Izalith, loses his enthusiasm and direction, and apparently mistakes a Chaos Bug for the sun which he seeks. After this point he will be hostile to the player, and will be wearing the cursed thing upon his head. This piece of headgear, formed from the body of a chaos bug, emits a lighted orb resembling the sun. If the player follows an arcane route through the game, they can avoid this outcome, and bring Solaire as a helpful ally in the final fight against Lord Gwyn.

Solaire as Gwyn’s Son For a long time, the battle at the immemorial kiln seemed like a fitting resolution to Solaire’s arc, as Gwyn was assumed to be his estranged father. Complementing Solaire’s recognition of an affinity between the Sun and the Father, we are told that Gwyn had a long-lost firstborn son. While essentially disproved by the apparent revelation of Gwyn’s actual first-born in Dark Souls 3, this lore speculation continues to live on in the imagination of the Souls community. It remains as another fact of the psyche, and thereby further illuminates the nature of Solaire. To understand why this is significant, we have to go a little bit into the symbolism of the Sun. You may be surprised to hear that people have been aware of the Sun for a long time now, and it has accrued significations far too numerous to list in full. So we will just mention a few of its rays, those that coincide with Solaire’s virtues: generosity, joviality, light, warmth, and cooperation. It also symbolizes the gift of life, vitality, will, and essence. Then there is that important attribute: obviousness; there is simply no denying the Sun in the sky, as it illuminates everything around you, and your planet circles it incessantly. But this principle of “apparentness” follows the sun to its cultural correspondences, like the lion, who is known to be named Leo. Which chakra does the sun relate to? Why, the solar plexus. Guess which metal the Sun corresponds to. It’s gold. You don’t have to be an occultist or a psychologist to notice the sun’s dignitaries: they have a way of exuding themselves. So it is with the conspicuously named Knight Solaire and his undeniable presence. It is simply one of his attributes: the ability to beam out from the Souls world, through the metatext, and into broader strata of culture.

The solar principle is also a consciousness principle. To “shed light” upon something is to become conscious of it. Thus the Sun describes both the ego and the Self (the inner image of God). The ego can be thought of as a low-res isomorphism of the Self, or as an inner, inextinguishable “divine spark.” It seems that this spark is the source from which Solaire derives his boundless optimism. Solaire ambivalently identifies with the Sun, and marvels at it outside himself, terming it as a “magnificent father.” Though he is a source of light for the player, he humbles himself before the “gross incandescence” of some higher power. This ego-Self dynamic, so essential to human experience, triggers a (conscious or unconscious) question of reconciliation. So players may wonder, “Who is the father of Solaire? To whom does he defer?” and the natural affinities between Solaire and Gwyn present themselves. Aside from the fact that it is later contradicted, this genealogy is also simply too concrete and anthropocentric to satisfy the greater mystery. The Solaire-Gwyn interpretation remains as a psychological fact, but it is just the beginning. It is the exoteric story, revealed to players of DS1 not as deception, but as an inaugural step for constellating a much more complex archetype. Now that we have taken a good look about how well the figure of Solaire invites a player’s projections, we will move on to a few other lore theories, far stranger and more infamous.

Solaire Has Become a Worm Who was Knight Solaire and what became of him? Some say he is the great Carthus Sandworm, writhing around the Smoldering Lake in the ruins of Hell. While apparently originally suggested in earnest, the Sandworm story has come to be known as a meme theory. As we have discussed, a meme won’t exist if it’s not compelling on some level.

Here is the apocryphal myth as commonly understood. Canonically the player fails to save Solaire after he wanders into Lost Izalith in search of his Sun. He discovers the Chaos Bug (or slays it and discovers its corpse), and mistakes its gentle glow for his personal sun. Worn as headgear, it becomes the Sunlight Maggot, a “loathsome parasite” that is “completely immobile, yet still lives.” Solaire goes hollow, losing his identity and sense of purpose. He despairs. We don’t know whether the parasite produces this abject condition in Solaire, or whether it is symptomatic, or coincidental. Therefore speculation begins here. Assuming the player does not destroy the mad Solaire, he wanders around the underworld for a very long time. As the years go by the vast hellscape of what was once Izalith disintegrates. Its army of demons becomes hills of corpses. The land itself is now nothing more than a small maze of ruins, and a warm puddle—the so-called “Smouldering Lake.” During this time, the theory suggests, the parasite has completely consumed Solaire, turning him into the “Carthus Sandworm” an enormous, Dune-esque burrowing worm that spits lightning.

So because Solaire was overtaken by a Chaos Bug, it is assumed he never left Carthus and became the worm. The further justification(?) for this theory is as follows. The worm spits lightning as Solaire does. The worm drops Lightning Stake, a miracle that mentions lost dragon slayers, who are affiliated with Warriors of Sunlight and thus Solaire. The worm also has human appendages sticking out from its body, and drops an undead bone shard, which are seen as clues that the worm was once human. (It is also suggested by some that Solaire’s might and indefatigable nature are the reason that he was not consumed by the parasite, but instead transformed into an enormous creature. But this point is often glossed over in the meme-theory variant.)

We can see that the diegetic evidence upon which the case for Solaire-as-Worm rests is rather thin. So what accounts for its popularity? Why does it make some kind of intuitive sense? Why does it generate enough interest to be passed around, albeit ironically? Let’s examine the origin point of the story: Solaire venturing into Lost Izalith and losing his mind to a Chaos Bug. The story of a solar hero venturing into the underworld has—once again—existed for as long as people have been staring at the sun. Each day the Sun goes down, and comes up again reborn. Psychologically, the descent into the underworld symbolizes the journey of the ego into the unconscious. The principle risk of this journey is possession by the contents therein; re-absorption into a state of dependent unconsciousness. For this reason among others, it is associated with the great and destructive Mother in her negative aspect. The motifs of “the devouring mother” and the “belly of the whale” are likely familiar to most people. The loss of a sense of a separate self is a much-feared thing, and this story arises perennially and across cultures. Izalith too is full of (negative) Mother imagery, with the mother of pyromancy at the center, portrayed as a small bug, not dissimilar from the Sunlight Maggot which consumes Solaire. We should of course not reduce the Mother to some Freudian positivism. She is called the Mother because she represents the matrix of the world, which engenders, sustains, and decays all forms. In her fullness she is the divine feminine principle. Her fearsome aspects, such as the devouring mother, are constellated by the ego’s fears and rejections. The mother is the first being from which an infant must differentiate itself, and so there is this necessary period in which the mother becomes the abject, the locus of all that is disavowed and detested. When stories tell us about “slaying the dragon,” it is not about conquering the feminine, or defeating chaos; it is about overcoming a false view of the Divine Mother born of fear and prejudice. It is this view, cohered into a monster, that must be slain, as the Chosen Undead does in Izalith in Dark Souls 1. According to tradition, how is this accomplished? In psychological terms:

The slaying of the mother and identification with the father-god go together. If, through active incest, the hero penetrates into the dark, maternal, chthonic side, he can only do so by virtue of his kinship with “heaven,” his filiation to God. By hacking his way out of the darkness he is reborn as the hero in the image of God, but, at the same time as the son of […] the regenerative Good Mother. (Neumann 165)

The “father” in this case corresponds to the solar principles of Logos, order, and law. Swords and lightning-strikes, Solaire’s preferred tools, refer to the capacities of discernment and insight necessary for differentiation. This identification/alliance with the father in this task is only temporary, for the Father too must be destroyed: he is the old order, the ego deteriorating into an oppressive and petty tyrant. This is why Gwyn is underwhelming and ailing when we find him. So it appears that saving Solaire, and bringing him to defeat Gwyn, is a relatively psychologically healthy outcome. That is—if Solaire is the new ego!! But think about it: when playing a game, is it not the player-character who is most representative of the ego? It is out of the Chosen Undead’s eyes that we see, it is their actions we control, not Solaire’s. We have already established that for many players, Solaire is an ideal image, whose full potential is necessarily unknown. Does this mean that Solaire is meant to be abandoned here? Is he, like Gwyn, an outdated self-conception that must be discarded so that something new can be born? The moral judgment of this situation is more complicated than it first appears.

Let’s look at the steps one must take in order to save Solaire: one must join the Chaos Servant covenant and collect humanity for the “Fair Lady.” This witch of chaos is a pale and deteriorating spider-woman meshed into the wall of her lair. She speaks a language incomprehensible to the player, unless a special ring is worn, which reveals that she mistakes the player for her sister. If she is given a whopping 30 humanity, the Chosen Undead rises to a rank of prestige in her organization, and a special door opens which allows passage to the site of Solaire’s fall. This is the only way to arrive at the scene and destroy the bug before Solaire finds it. So the key, in essence, is offering your humanity to a mysterious dying witch over and over again. Or, as reddit user JotaBarra puts it:

To save Solaire of Astora you have to give 30 humanity to someone who you don't know, that doesn't understand you and the only thing you know is that she put herself in pain trying to fix something that she doesn't did. If you help her, the games give you the opportunity to save your friend. The only way to save Solaire is by being like him. Friendship is exactly like that. You help the only one that help you everytime he can. He will fight alongside with you against the final enemy. It represent what a relationship is. We don't build relationship with our direct actions but with what the actions mean. You dont help directly to your friend, but you do what he could've do for you.

This interpretation makes a good point about how it is necessary to become Solaire, to take on his attributes, in order to save him. Does this therefore mean that by the time the two of you get to Gwyn, you are the same person? Or were you the same person all along, and Solaire was just projected into the external environment, just as he both embodies the sun and seeks it outside himself? That light, whether the anglerfish lamp of the Sunlight Maggot or the Sun itself, compels the body forward, because that compulsion is the Sun.

Specifically, compulsion is the Sun in its chthonic state. It is synonymous with the ever-burning fuel of sulfur, replete throughout the realms of hell.

Lost Izalith, the Hell of Dark Souls, has been reduced to very little in Dark Souls 3. It appears quite plainly that the kingdom has deteriorated. What were once oceans of lava is now a knee-high lake of simmering water. However, among the ruins and heaps of demon corpses, there is indication that new life is growing. Roots of world trees coil around the stone and new forms of demons are singing living flames into being. Most significantly, there is also the presence of crabs, which are a timeless symbol of birth, and present at the other two places of world-regeneration in Dark Souls 3 (the forest and the painting). Beneath the desolate surface of Smouldering Lake, there is the beating heart of new life.

It is on the surface that the pseudo-Solaire worm confronts us. It could be that it is protective of this nest, or maybe it is a crude image of the unborn life in incubation within. The fact that it is coiled here, in a pool of water at the base of the world, suggests the kundalini serpent. In psychology and metaphysics, the kundalini is the libidinous upward force catalyzed by the primal energy (shakti) at the base of the spine. Alongside its physiological manifestation, the rising serpent/worm is one of the oldest mythological motifs:

The Gnostics related the serpent to the mysterious energy of the primordial waters symbolized in the waves of the undulating serpent as well as the stirrings within the serpentine spinal cord of man. The stirrings surface from the abyss of the unconscious, sometimes unexpectedly and with peremptory and terrible effects. (Valborg)

Its undulating path upwards is called “The Serpent’s Path” as it traces a parabolic shape as it climbs to ever-higher degrees of refinement (this is what the player does, you may recall). This journey of upward undulation, often felt by the individual as an electric current, is sometimes preceded by the “Lightning Flash,” the original impetus, which strikes downward from the crown to the lowest point, thus awakening the serpent, which makes its ascent. So these images come together quite conveniently in the figure of this lightning-spewing sandworm. You may remember that the worm drops “Lightning Stake”; not some other miracle, but the one that forces lightning down upon the earth. To see this electric serpent coiled up within a hot, subterranean chamber teeming with life—it is hard to imagine a more direct depiction of the kundalini.

We have talked about Solaire as a symbol of the Self, that was at one time appropriate but now needs to be refined, and it is therefore appropriate that he should find himself consumed in the flames of the underworld. The fiery hells of Buddhism are sites of purification; the fire that rages and torments the victim is their own unbridled affects, but they eventually exhaust themselves. What remains after is purified ash, synonymous with the “white foliated Earth” of the alchemists. It is this type of “environment” in which the “gold”—the personality—should be sown, in order to reach its potential. This is assumedly what has already happened to the Ashen One of Dark Souls 3, given their title and the fact that they have arisen from ash; it also seems to be descriptive of the process at hand for the kingdom of Lothric.

It’s easy to imagine that players might unconsciously project the image of Solaire’s rebirth onto this worm. For reasons related to Solaire’s story, as previously discussed, and for these perennial myths. At another point in the journey, the player is also confronted with Rosaria, the Mother of Rebirth, who “respecs” people—reallocates their stats and qualities. The only risk this refinement brings is that the person may become a worm! A few casualties of this process are seen or implied elsewhere in the game. These “mangrubs” are quite revolting, and yet at least a few are linked to the highest divinity. This should not surprise us:

Typical of the paradoxical imagery of the unconscious, the despicable worm can turn into the supreme value. Thus the messiah is equated with a worm in the messianic Psalm 22, verse 6: ‘But I am a worm and no man; a reproach of men, and despised of the people.’ (Edinger AoP 158)

For the full renewal of the image of the Self, it is necessary that the old king(/sun) dies. The body decays, and at its most revolting, it becomes the bed and the feast of maggots. Because Smouldering Lake is beneath the Catacombs, it can be said to be taking place within the body within the grave. The entire scene can be read as allegory of the processes within the body in the midst of its resurrection. The “messiah” here is invoked because Christ is another euphemism for the Self. And just as the dead king’s body is diffused into the bellies of the maggots, so too does Christ’s flesh become the object of consumption during the Eucharist. This takes us conveniently into our next bizarre fan theory.

Solaire Has Become Soup Slightly more arcane than the theory of Solaire’s transfiguration into a worm, is the notion of his transubstantiation into the Estus Soup, which is found in a few cauldrons throughout Lothric. The justification for this theory was handily summarized on a reddit by a now-deleted user:

Consider the room you get the sunbro badge in undead settlement. It also contains an estus soup bowl...

The sunbro badge is found on a device for dismembering corpses. We know this becasue we see the same device being used to cut up bodies later in the undead settlement just before the stairs down to the lower area with the ravine

 The sunbro badge is simply a rag of cloth sitting on the device, which heavily implies that a sunbro was cut up on this device and his badge was left over as a part of the cutting up process

Underneath the cutting up device are an absolute ton of small bowls, receptacles to contain fluid. What fluid will the cutting up device produce? blood and human bodily fluid.

These same bowls can be seen all around the main estus soup pot....

The blood of the dismembered sunbros/other undead is extracted in the cutting process into the small bowls. These bowls are then take to the main pot and their essences poured into the main soup pot which is boiled and the estus fluid is extracted from the blood of the chopped up sunbros. This is what forms the radiant estus soup.

 The player is in some sense conditioned to think this, because the entire Undead Settlement is oriented around the disposal of corpses. Moreover, Estus Soup is found at two more places, one of which holds Solaire’s talisman, and the other near paintings of Gwynevere (saint of the sunbros). Now, the more reasonable interpretation of the presence of these Sunlight artifacts near Estus Soup is that Siegward, who is later shown to be the one concocting the soup, leaves them behind in his absent-mindedness. Siegward’s attitude and behavior are very reflective of the “jolly cooperation” ethos, and thus we naturally assume that he is affiliated with the Warriors of Sunlight.

This, however, does not disprove that the Estus Soup is Solaire! Not to say that Solaire was butchered by Siegward, and bled into the soup via the grisly method described above; rather it is more likely that a faithful Warrior of Sunlight has consecrated this special drink in a manner similar to the Christian Eucharist. To understand the concept of the Eucharist, here is an excerpt from the Gnostic Gospel of Thomas:

The cup of prayer contains wine and contains water, being established as a representation of the blood over which thanksgiving is offered. And it is full of the holy spirit, and belongs entirely to the perfect human being. Whenever we drink it we take unto ourselves the perfect human being. The living water is a body.” (Gnostic scriptures p347)

In other words, “the Eucharistic blood represented the Soul of Christ.” (Jung & von Franz 93). The fact that “the conception of blood as soul prevailed in the middle ages,”(ibid. 93) is visually quoted by Dark Souls periodically, and further prepares the player to respond to such symbolic signaling within this fantasy setting. 

Now, Solaire as a Christ figure who becomes the subject of a Lothric Eucharist is probably not a theory that anyone would thread together without the specific intent of performing a Christian reading of Dark Souls. The reason that I discuss it now is because the existence of the Solaire-as-soup theory seems to have arrived at a similar situation unconsciously, and slightly rephrased into a secular materialist framework (more palatable to the conscious mind). We have examined how Solaire is an uncommonly strong draw for projections of the player’s better nature. It is also a fact of our world that certain Christian concepts—such as Christ representing a fully realized being to whom we should aspire, or the mysteries of the Eucharist—are present in the background of the unconscious. These stories and motifs were so ubiquitous for so long in the western world, that even if we live fully secular lives, this material continues to radiate its influence through the thinnest, unassuming little cracks in our speech, our aesthetics, and our stories.

So without any intention on the part of the player, their experience of the character Solaire receives some influence from the Christian world. This effect is aided by a few other elements. There is his resemblance to common depictions of knights from the Crusades, whose defining associations are Christianity and the fact that they were seeking something. Of course we also have the fact of his signature gesture which is similar to the pose of the crucified Christ. This essay has already described this gesture’s prominent contribution to the memetic potency of Solaire, but it bears mentioning that if the player joins this covenant, they perform the gesture automatically upon being summoned—any active sunbro is quite literally forced into imitating this pose! And of course, a third reason for this unconscious association of Christ and Solaire is the factor of the mysterious and divine parentage.

Which is Canon? So of these two fringe headcanons, which is the more valid? Is Solaire a worm or is he soup? Taking anthropology into account, we must recognize that the death and resurrection of the Sun-god naturally predates Christ, and Christian myths are often studied in that context. It is just as natural to see Solaire as a personification of the Sun, of goodwill, or of the Logos … although Christ also covers that ground. Whatever the case may be, the dismemberment and consumption of this embodied principle seems to be a common feature of these stories. Both the worms who feed on the king’s corpse, and the Eucharistic wine/blood, are images of this concept—and perhaps both images are necessary. The feast of the worms is the profane image, and the Eucharist is the sacred and civil version. After all, for the dissemination of this quality of consciousness to be complete, it must extend to every level. Edinger gives us another broad summary of the concept:

[The Golden Man] represents the microcosmos or monas, the initial matter, which also contains the goal of the work. His dismemberment signifies a new conscious ordering of his initial chaotic nature.

It is difficult to consider terms like “initial matter” and appreciate the fullness of the concept. In nitpicking over the details of the specific images, we may begin to lose sight of the importance and universality of the basic story. This is why it is so important that there are multiple histories, multiple headcanons. If Solaire was only the worm, or only the soup, he would be less complete and less adequate as a symbol. And there are many headcanons besides these, of course; they merely represent two aggregations with a mythologically fertile tension between them. By the incredible multivalence of the Sun’s many arms, he means something different and individual to each player.

And speaking of the “goal of the work.” The return of the Sun in the morning is not considered a triumph merely because it has survived. Withstanding the night in itself is hardly an achievement! It is a triumph because something has been earned in the descent, and the same is true of the story of Christ’s incarnation. When the Sun-god rises again, something has been purified, refined, or to use the preferred Christian term, redeemed. The personal stories of players also seem to follow this trajectory. Dark Souls doesn’t treat depression simply because players are enduring its difficulty, it’s because some special quality of attention is polished through their struggles. We ought also to remember that Solaire willingly became Undead so he could visit Lordran and find his own Sun. The descent into incarnation for the purpose of refinement is a journey that should only be made consciously, with optimism and good cheer, for that is the Sun’s native condition.

 Edinger, Edward. Anatomy of the Psyche. Open Court Publishing Company,   1985. Jung, Carl. Psychology and Religion: East and West. Princeton University Press,   1969. Jung, Emma & Marie-Louise von Franz. The Grail Legend. Sigo Press, 1980. Layton, Bentley, ed. The Gnostic Scriptures. Yale University Press, 1995 Neumann, Eric. The Origins and History of Consciousness. Bollingen   Foundation, 1954. Valborg, Helen. Great Symbols Series: the Serpent. Theosophy Trust, 2013.

Solaire is Pump-a-Rum Actually, you are this fledgling.

[unknown-de-mordor-blog]

The Dark-Lord Family, A.K.A. My Top 5 Favourite Villains

Melkor/Morgoth + Mairon/Sauron -- The Lord of the Rings+The Silmarillion

I know that’s two, but don’t make me separate them. I will not separate them.

They’re actually going to be the odd one out in this list because the rest are from anime/manga, but that’s because back when I was in middle school, I found villains from fantasy stories boring af and the notion that something external is the source of evil is just lazy. (Also because my obnoxious middle-school brain just went ‘Argh, blaming other people for your problems is soooo immature’ and shut down.) Arguably, I wasn’t well-versed in those kinds of literature, and stuff I did choose to read from that side of the globe don’t have villains in them.

And that’s kind of why these two makes the list -- they are more properly constructed than other dark lords that I know of. Yes, they serve as the personification of evil, but Tolkien also treated them as characters. They have reasons for becoming what they’ve become. And even though they are depicted as the epicentre of evil and destruction, evil isn’t actually their domain. Tolkien was pretty clear about that in his writing because he also examined and, to some degree, deconstructed evil in his universe. The Feanorians are chief examples of that. Turin is not really off the hook with some of his bad life choices (and I don’t mean marrying his sister; when intent in factored in, that’s actually not the worst Turin had done). And don’t get me started on how much I loathe Denethor.

In a way, I found Tolkien depiction of dark lords rather subversive. Having a dark lord really plays into a primal psychology that wants to blame the ill of the world to someone: capitalism, communism, Hitler, Stalin, Baby boomers, Millenials, the Jews, the Muslims, the conservative Christians, the patriarchy, cis white (American) males. But in the deconstruction of the dark lords, he was also saying, really, that evil without comes from the evil within and it’s complicated because evil is a part of nature. It doesn’t come from a box, an apple, a fallen angel, or a rebellious servant of God. And to win against the evil without, you have to fight the evil within. And that’s why Frodo is still one of my greatest heroes. He really did take the hardest job in the book, and I’m not talking about walking into Mordor.

Hao Asakura-- Shaman King (manga, not the anime)

Also known to me and my best friend as “Melkor and Sauron’s lovechild” because his character has things that reminded us of Melkor and Sauron. Hao is a personification of evil and destruction. His main power is Fire, and I’m capitalizing here because the spirit that is his main source of power is called the Spirit of Fire and it’s huge, like balrog huge.

But unlike with Melkor and Sauron, we got to hear directly from Hao why he thinks the destruction of humanity is a good idea. As it turns out, Hao actually has a shit-list on humanity collected over the last thousand years, and we look horrendous on it. It’s hard to argue that we are not cancerous, narrow-minded, selfish bunch of crap who frequently gives into the tendency to destroy each other and is going to destroy this one planet we have and take every other species who had not done any shit to deserve this with it. So, yes, Hao was saying, ‘I’m the necessary evil because you all are shitheads’. And he’s right. In some ways, he’s even more right now than he was back in the 90s.

But you might say that’s one particular lens of interpreting our complex and problematic (as in difficult) legacy. We’re not all bad! Well, true, but us doing good does not in anyway erase the fact that we’ve done some really shitty things as well. That’s why as extreme as Hao’s position might be, he’s about as logically wrong as saying we should keep humanity because we have done some nice things.

And the greatest thing in Shaman King to me is that Hiroyuki never went down that route of that oversimplified counter-argument. He actually had Yoh -- our hero, the personification of good, and Hao’s twin brother -- admitted to not liking human either. In fact, Yoh was the one most sympathetic to Hao’s position even though he disagreed that destroying humanity would solve any of Hao’s problems.

And Hao’s biggest problem was that he was isolated, dehumanized, and betrayed over such a long time that he lost the ability to trust and to love. And as time progressed and Hao becomes more powerful, you can even argue that he lost the ability to love himself. When Hao became God, he isolated himself from other souls, pushing even his most loyal followers away by displays worthy of an evil dark lord when they in fact contradicts how he had always treated them-- with kindness and understanding that they never received from others.

But that tactic wasn’t going to work on Yoh’s watch. The guy basically threw the biggest spirit party ever, invited everyone who ever crossed path with Hao, and gave the man the biggest metaphorical group hug. There were some stern talks about his past behaviour and ambitions, but all in all, everyone acknowledged that he was a person -- complicated and damaged but still a person worthy of friendship and love and loyalty. And after all the embarrassing reunion, including being enthusiastically called ‘nii-chan’ (that’s a cute way of calling someone ‘big-bro’) by his supposed mortal enemy and twin brother, Hao just kind of went ‘Fine! I warned you Earth sucks with humans on it, but if you want to make it better so much then go do it. I’ll watch you try!’

So, yep, that’s how you literally prevent apocalypse with the power of love. I wish more heroes adopt this strategy.

^Hao as God Almighty from the sequel to Shaman King. Art by Takei Hiroyuki. This is to say that Hao is also a crazy cat-person.

Gabriel -- Daemon Hunters

Speaking of gods, here’s another god you should not mess with. I have to admit that this guy scares the living daylight out of me. And it’s not because he’s evil or cruel or twisted. Gabriel is... nothing. Really nothing. He was born out of an experiment to create a living god. And when knowledge and power are chosen over compassion, this is the destructive result.

Gabriel was born more powerful than anything under the sky. And he knew everything -- past, present, and future. He looked into a person’s eyes and he knew the life that was and the life that still to come. Except for one thing, one moment at the end of the world when he would meet a creature more powerful than himself, a creature that knew the answer to one last question Gabriel did  not: why was he alive?

And for that answer, Gabriel would do anything -- kill people, play with their minds, break their souls, wipe out an entire city or country. Literally, nothing was off-limits. And he was like a force of nature. You couldn’t negotiate or bargain with this guy because he didn’t care about puny little humans with puny little minds. He’s looking for an answer, and nothing was going to stop him.

So yeah, evil is not scary at all in my book. The insatiable thirst that knows no love? Yeah, totally.

^The entire internet seriously just have this one picture of Gabriel. The sorrow of being in a non-existing fandom, I supposed.

Sebastian Michaelis -- Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji

Technically speaking, Sebastian is not a villain. He’s one of the two protagonists of Kuroshitsuji -- the other being my beloved anti-hero Ciel Phantomhive -- but considering that Sebastian (i) is a demon (ii) is after Ciel’s soul (iii) loves leading my dear boy astray, I count him as one.

Being treated in the narrative as one of the main characters is probably why he’s the most relatable on the list. Even though he’s a demon, he’s not treated as a personification of evil, just a corrupted creature serving as a vehicle for his master’s ambitions who likes to have fun along the way. That is not to say he’s not bad. He totally is. He would tear people to pieces as he kills them. He likes mind games and has no qualm manipulating people to get what he wants.

But the thing is, humans do that, too. Sebastian’s corruptness is not exceptional in anyway. We like to think we know what is right and wrong, but do we? We think we have made the best choices out of the goodness of our hearts, but were they, really? The matter of fact is a lot of our decisions are lazy, selfish, or just meanness dressed up as something else. There are moments when Sebastian demon’s ‘aesthetics’ seems more morally sound than the morality of a human being. And that’s kind of the theme of the series -- that the evil within clad in self-righteousness, desperation, and elitism can be more reprehensible than the evil without.

^Art by Yana Toboso. I feel compelled to mention that Sebastian is also a crazy cat-person.

Johan Liebert -- Monster

To me, there is rarely a personification of evil more terrifying and a deconstruction more nuanced and heartbreaking than that in Naoki Urasawa’s Monster.

And it’s not even his best work! It was his first work in psychological thriller, so you can kind of see him working out how to do thriller and play with with characters’ psychology on the go. And the psyche that governs the entire story is that of Johan Liebert -- arch-villain, evil-incarnate, the new Napoleon of Crime. He rarely made any appearance in the story, but every time he did, I literally wanted to hyperventilate.

But really, setting Johan up that way was kind of a red-herring on Urasawa’s part, a good red-herring, too, because he was giving what Tolkien gave us in Middle-earth -- a personification of evil, someone we can point the finger to and blame for all the wrong in the world. And Johan played the dark lord to the tee.

Except then Urasawa slowly pulled the rug from under us. Little by little, as Dr. Kenzou Tenma, our personification of good, uncovered Johan’s past, we come to realize that there were other evil that made Johan. But then when Dr. Tenma approached those people, the big-bads dwindled into an old deluded man, a woman hunted, a mad scientist trying to repent his sin -- people after people who had made a decision based on their beliefs and made the wrong one.

I think what made Monster so powerful is how it uses Johan as the focal point to deconstruct evil down to its origin, to the fact that there is no other evil in the world than us. The evil without really is just a manifest of the evil within, and that little moments where we might have let it win could snowball into something monumentally terrifying.

But Urasawa’s view of human nature is not all doom and gloom. Yes, we’re at times wretched and wicked, but we can be better when we choose to be. And that idea is actually what Dr. Tenma represents. Tenma didn’t start out being good. He lied about his history. He was motivated by reputation and ego rather than the well-being of his patients. He had to be confronted by the consequence of his decisions and have his entire world crashing down to the ground to find the path to being good. And after that, it still wasn’t easy, as trying to be good in a world full of shitty people often is.

But things had changed for him, and I think that’s why he thought Johan could, too. That’s why he could never shoot even though Johan let him.

So, is Johan evil? My answer is yes. After all, he had done grave wrongs to people knowingly. But could he turn from the path of evil? Well, I think the more appropriate question is, have you?

^Original design by Naoki Urasawa. I was once terrified of blue eyes because of this man.

[diamondorloj]

do you know any neutral post that sums up the Israeli–Palestinian conflict because I don't know what to think. I don't want to dislike jews or Israel but it all sounds so bad? Send help

Hi! I super appreciate you asking because I know exactly how hard it is to even find one reliable source.

Of course it all sounds super bad, because Hamas is a well-oiled and functioning propaganda machine with a lot of money and children and parents willing to throw themselves in front of the camera to make Israel bad, and for some reason their pictures are always what get picked up by the media. Plus, there are super loud antisemitic voices everywhere chanting against Israel at every mention. And the BDS is lobbying pretty hard too, so it's very hard to not find a super negative picture.

It's a super tricky conflict. I'm not saying everything went well and Israel is a country with a pristine history. But here's some points to consider that are usually the biggest issues in any ''''controversy'''' around Israel- Jewish people have always lived and practiced Judaism for over 5000 years in Israel. They have been victims of pogroms and hatred and chased in the desert, but they have literally always been there and to say that Israel was a state installed by foreigners for foreigners coming to these lands is a blatant lie.

There are countries with way more questionable borders in existence, yet Israel is the only country to continuously has to defend its very existence.

The United Nations have two organisations for refugees. One is the UNHCR which deals with refugee questions for all over the world, except for one group. And the other is the UNRWA which is an organisation only for the Palestine/Gaza refugees. The differences between these organisations are more than in structure and beaurucracy, they have two different tasks: UNHCR aims to give refugees a home, UNRWA doesn't. When in 1951 the director of UNRWA proposed to give 250.000 refugees a home in different arabic countries, these governments were angry and strictly refused, leading to the director John Blanford to lose his job. Since then, no further attempts have been made.

Furthermore, the UNHCR only defines refugees as people who have actually fled from their homes. Meanwhile, the UNRWA broadens that definition to "people who lost their homes in 1948 and their descendants".

- Israel is the only country that won all their wars for their survival and in self-defense yet had to have the coniditions for peace dictated by the defeated enemies. Even more paradox, this was supported by countries which all defined their borders after winning wars over these territories -- like, look at an old map of Europe and you will see what I mean. Btw Europe, Germany and Poland drew their finite borders in 1990 but I guess Israel is the only ''''artificial'''' state

- One of Hamas' conditions was that no jewish people were allowed to live in Gaza, so for the first time in centuries if not more, there are no Jewish people living in Gaza. Weirdly, it doesn't seem enough because these people are still living somewhere else and not all dead, I guess.

- Hamas literally uses children and families as a shield, regularly raises palestine flags with swastikas and calls protests of throwing rocks, burning tires and attacking soldiers 'peaceful'. It's a terrorist organisation and literally has the destruction of Israel as a defining goal, yet we always expect Israel to work with them. Hamas wants to build a state based on ethnic purity and cleansing of the territory, but somehow everyone thinks it's okay.

- By the way, when the two state solution was on the table, it was refused because they didn't want Israel to even have a bit of Jerusalem, the capital city with which the jewish people has been connected for over 3000 years. Even weirder, this connection is widely known (famously written into the most read world book in the world, the Bible) and yet every country refuses to acknowledge it as the official capital city because they're afraid that terrorists will riot

- Israel is the only country which is continuously attacked by three organisations in the UN which only exist to represent the Palestine agenda and to defame Israel (they're three comitees and I can't remember their exact names even in German, but they're about realising Palestinian rights, researching the Israeli actions in regard to palestinian rights and there's something in the UN-department for politic agendas or somth)

- Every year. Every year, Israel is targeted by more UN-resolutions than all of the other 192 member countries together. No-one can tell me that this number is justifiable in the least, but it is a reality and it paints the picture of Israel in the media.

- Israel is also the only country in the UN that continuously has to defend its existence against other UN-members and that suffers threats from other members all the damn time. And not just any threats, Iran for example continuously threatens to wipe out Israel and supports Hezbollah in Lebanon and Hamas in Gaza, both of which are terrorist organisations with the goal of destroying Israel. And destroying Israel means killing all their Jewish citizens.

And we continuously forget that Israel is the only liberal democracy in that area, they're currently conducting investigations into Netanyahu and his regime and it's a country with a rich and vivid discourse nature. They just refuse to let their existence be up to debate, and frankly, neither should any of us.

So, does this mean no-one is allowed to criticise Israel? Absolutely not. It is a functioning democracy and like any country, it is not a moral entity and there is a lot of room for debate. But when looking into the arguments, you should keep in mind that there's a lot of antisemitism hidden as 'Israel critic' when it's just the same old shit. There's a test called "the 3 Ds" (in German) that can function as a broad test to see if you're reading legitimate critics or antisemitic shit:

- Demonisation (are they demonising Israel, for example by comparing Israel to the Nazis or the palestine refugee camp with Auschwitz)

- Double standards (are they criticising Israel for a behaviour or an act that they ignore or belittle when it's different state, for example how is it that Israel suffers resolutions for hurting human rights but China, Iran, Kuba and Syria don't)

- Delegitimisation (when they're arguing against Israel to exist; it's also a double standard bc it's refusing to allow Jewish people to have a state in which they can live a safe life)

I realise this won't directly answer your question and I easily get side tracked, but I feel like knowing about these difficulties and critically reading your sources will help you more than just drawing a timeline of events. Because there's a lot of anti-Israel propaganda even on Wikipedia, on seemingly normal internet platforms and even our big Western media liberally use Hamas material while refusing to show the Nazi swastikas blowing on burning kites they shoot over to Israel ground. And it's hard to be neutral about this topic, because it is a democracy which is never flawless against a terrorist organisation which demonstrates great finesse in painting the picture the way they want it. I don't think we should all be neutral about it. I am firmly pro Israel because I need my Jewish friends who are currently worrying about anti-judaic sentiments on the uprise everywhere in Europe to have a safe haven. I am pro Israel because it is a country with huge efforts and contributions to our world and advancing medicines etc every day. It's a LGBTQ friendly country (contrary to Hamas policy in which gay sex means 10 years of prison). It is the only liberal democracy in the Middle East and deserves our support more than a terrorist organisation using their children as human shields. Yknow. Maybe that's not actually a topic to be neutral about.

[fapangel]

So you finally watched The Last Jedi. Thoughts?

It is worse than I could have possibly imagined.Sit down and buckle up, because this one’s a doozy. (Spoilersabound.)

AsI’ve previously detailed, it was clear the movie was a trainwreckeven before I watched it due to simple structural issues with thebasic plot, much of it inherited from The Force Awakens (which I didsee.) To wit, the movie is a sequel to the original trilogy, butcompletely ignores everything that happenedin the original trilogy. Having seen The Last Jedi, it’s nowblatantly clear thatthe new trilogy  was intended as a reboot - but that’s impossible todo when it’s shamelessly mining the OT for characters, concepts, andinformation. I’m not talking about the shameless density of nostalgiareferences and even aped plots in The Force Awakens, either - I’mtalking about The Last Jedi considered in a vacuum. (Just one exampleis Leia’s use of force power to pull herself back into her ship,which makes no sense without the original trilogy context.) Giventhe high praise some of my friends had paid the show, I’d been opento the possibility of it having merit as a movie, ifnot as a Star Wars sequel, butits inability toescape the structural/sequel critique presaged its complete and utterfailures in writing.

Thisis a point I must make explicit: TheLast Jedi is such a horribly written movie that it transcends merefailure; it is actively harmful and offensive, “problematic” inthe sense that the much-maligned “SJWs” use the term. Thisis the unassailable core of the offense that The Last Jedi (“TLJ”)offers. Much of what I’m about to bitch about, especially anythingto do with pre-established Star Wars canon, could have been glossedover, or even forgiven, if the core storytelling was solid enough. Ifit looks flashy and cool, adheres to rules that the audience knowsfrom prior films, oreven rules the film itself laid down earlier, anyaction sequence or detail of spaceships and tech can be made to work.Star Wars is classic Space Opera centered on Space Wizards; youcan get away with a lotifyou’re making one big concession to enable the plot and not justjerking the audience around every five minutes. But TLJ not only doesthat, it also has no story worth making concessions to enable. Theinescapably lethal flaw of TLJ is that none of the characters areworth a damn, and their arcs simply do not work.

That’sit. Without that, you have no story, period. Withthat,any number of flaws, errors, and plot holes might be forgiven, if thecore story is strong enough. Even if the core story isn’tstrongenough, one could at least acknowledge that the movie wasn’t a totaldisaster, it was just dragged down by too many errors, a death of athousand cuts. TLJ manages to have allof the ancillary problems, andno character story at all to make it worth a flying fuck.

Thiswon’t be a comprehensive dismantling of TLJ, as there’s more thanenough out there - I suggest seeing MauLer’sreviews, either the 30 minute “Unbridled Rage” or thethree-part,multi-hourtakedown for a truly exhaustive treatment. This is mostly Planefag’sPerspective (becuase people like it when I say the funny fuqq wordsapparently,) an explanation to my writer friends (which they’ll  findinteresting, as it’s rare for our opinions on works of fiction todiverge so strongly), and presentation of what seems to be aheretofore unmade argument - that TLJ is morally reprehensible bydint of the biases, prejudices and twisted ideas it perpetuates.

Yes,it is that fuckingbad. ButI’m saving the best for last. In order of magnitude, why TLJ is apile of steaming, utter shit:

NOT ONE SINGLEFUCKING CHARACTER ARC WORKS AT ALL.

Thisis the core, unforgivable failing - the complete absence of anyfucking story. This isespecially notable with Rey and Kylo, the lead characters of themovie around which everything else revolves. WhenRey and Kylo first spoke to each other across lightyears, I stood upand shouted “THE FORCEIS NOT A FUCKING SKYPE CALL!” Iwould’ve forgiven the Space Wizard liberties had the interactionsworked, but my wrathproved sadly prescient, as Kylo and Rey’s every interactionthereafter seemed like two teenagers awkwardly flirting over Skype…except they had far lesschemistry than that. As I write this, I find it difficult to evenrecall what they fucking talked about- the first time was Kylo surprised it was happening and Rey callinghim an evil murdering prick (for good reason,) the second time sherang him up when he had his shirt off and he told her to “let go ofthe past, kill it if you must,” and the third time she told him shesensed conflict in him, they touched hands through The Force, and she“saw his future” through this, because Rey Is Very Good At TheForce.

Onthe basis of these three interactions, Reygoes from Kylo Ren’s sworn enemy to moist and thirsty for histhrobbing red lightsaber. I shit you fucking negative. Uponthese three brief conversations,the central character story of the entire movie rides- and they come nowhere close topulling it off. There’s so many reasons for this that it’s hard tosummarize them. Rey’s shown to be pining for her family again(despite having moved past this in her character arc in The ForceAwakens, but Rian Johnson can’t keep shit consistent in his ownmovie, much less thesame fucking trilogy.) She’s angry at Kylo for killing his father,Han, whom she was adopting as a father figure herself (their firstchat takes place after Luke asks after Han and Rey accuses Kylo ofit, so this is expressly brought forward into TLJ.) So when Kylo ripsinto Rey over her parents; pointing out that they were white trashthat sold her into servitude for drinking money and never cared abouther, before telling her to kill her past, he’sonly reminding her that he had something she never did and alwayswanted (a loving family,) and that he fucking murdered saidfamily. There’s no wayRey could empathize with Kylo over this.

Butwe’re supposed to ignore this, and believe that Rey now feels someempathy for Kylo because she 1. saw him with his shirt off and 2.touched his hand and Sensed The Good In Him Through The Force.

Whata load of complete and utter fucking horseshit.

Thereare other arcs, and they all fall flat on their fucking faces aswell. For starters, Luke.Luke’s arc, especially, cannotbe insulated from continuity criticisms because he’s the mainfucking character of the Original Trilogy, andTLJ leans heavily onthat lineage for its setup. The climax of Luke’s character arc wasachieving the seemingly impossible - redeeminghis father, Darth Vader, who had fallen to evil decades ago andcommitted untold numbers of atrocities. Andin TLJ, Luke actually contemplates CHOPPINGHIS OWN NEPHEW’S FUCKING HEAD OFF becausehe “sees darkness in him.” The man who’s crowning, definingachievement was redeeming his Father from the dark side isconsidering NEPOTICIDEbecause the kid mightfall.

Evenif you ignore that, why Luke’sinsists that“the Jedi should end” is never explained, as he never says itoutright and never finishes a single lesson with Rey which issupposed to teach her why.Why does he extrapolate hisfailure to mean the entire galaxy isbetter off without them? His interactions with Rey accomplishnothing; he basically tells her to fuck off for a while, decides to“teach her,” promptly tells her she’s supor haxx0rz powerful likeKylo, watches her master lightsaber-ing because she knows how toswing a metal quarterstaff, and is then told by Yoda himself thatthere’s nothing in the ancient Jedi tomes Rey needs, because she’s sofucking special she knows it all already. Yoda fucking torchesthe ancient temple-tree-library to make his point that Luke’s always“staring at the horizon instead of at what’s in front of him” andthat he needs to focus on the here and now; implicitly saying thatRey was right, and he shouldhump his ass out there to “face down the First Order with a lasersword”…

…but instead of doing that, he literally phonesit in from half a galaxy away with The Force, puttinghimself in (almost) no danger, but fucking dies anyways,meaning he died as he lived; agrouchy old coward who never did face down his own apprentice andanswer for his mistakes. Luke’sarc makes no fucking sense, achievesnothing, and goes fucking nowhere.

Finnand Rose was portrayed as a budding relationship, except there wasn’ta single fucking hint of it being romantic till she kissed him at theend of the show after a pat speech about “saving what we love.”In the beginning of the movieshe tazes Finn (yes, the black man got tazed) for trying to skip townin an escape pod, which she found personally offensive because hersister had just died in the opening battle to defend The Resistance.At the end of the movie, Finn is willing to sacrifice his life todefend that same Resistance, his character having actually grown -and Rose rams him off-course before he can do so, despitehaving tazed him earlier in the movie for dishonoring hersister’s sacrifice to defend the exact same cause. Atbest, this means shewas only truly concerned with her personal loss, which would make hera self-centered, selfish cunt, willing to sacrifice the lives of manyothers (and potentially the freedom of the entire Galaxy) for her ownemotional needs. But it’s not portrayed as a selfish decision - it’sportrayed as the right one,which taps into an entire larger problem of its own I’ll touch onlater. It’s the same problemthat’s entirely responsible for crippling Poe’s character arc. Finnand Rose were simply dealt the coup de grace by it, as theirpreceding scenes together were sparse; involving them coming up witha plan to save the rebel fleet (seconds after Rose had tazed him,bro, and had no reason to do a 180 and start trusting him without anexplanation that he never did give,) a monologue about how shitRose’s life was and How Capitalism Is Bad on the casino planet, and abrief “well we’re fucked and by extension THE ENTIRE GALAXY but westuck it to the man, how cool,” and Rose has a moment where shesets an animal free and says that was superior to making baddieshurt, setting up her closing line later.

Andthat’s it. That’s fucking it. Comparethis to Princess Leia in the original trilogy. Her response to aStormtrooper walking into her cell - someone who she has every reasonto assume is there to take her to a torture session (as she wasclearly shown being tortured some minutes earlier in the movie,) isto comment wryly on his height. Andseconds after breaking out of the jail cell, she’s shouting orders atpeople, spraying the air with energy from a stolen blaster rifle, andin fact leading themout of the immediate danger (“Someone’s got to get us out ofhere!”) And during this entire sequence herrepartee and rivalry with Han Solo is already being established, the“excuse me Princess” cranked to the max. The friction that beginstheir relationship is Han butting heads with her before witnessingthat she’s dangerous,composed, and competent in emergency and combat situations. Notonly is their relationship developed during actionsequences of real consequence, as well as down-time chats, but italso takes three entire moviesto build to a climax. Comparedto that writing, Rey jumping on Kylo’s dick after three Skype callsand Rose giving one rusty fuckabout Finn are egregiously bad.If you criticize the OT andthink TLJ is superior, you have a lot toanswer for, right there.

However,Finn himself had potential - if only because his character was theleast tampered with, so one could assume his character developmentfrom TFA was intact, and TLJ’s script hinted gently in support of itand never against it. He started TFA just wanting to run like abitch, and by the end had come to care, at least, about defendingRey. He was trying to hare off after Rey in the beginning of TLJ, andby the end had committed fully to a cause, the opposite cause of theone he’d abandoned at the opening of TFA. It’snever really covered why hegrows like this - at the very beginning he goes from wanting to legit to forming a plan with Rose to save the fleet instantly. He wastalking his way out of being shoved in the brig at the time, but henever takes a subsequent option to duck out; in the space of a fewseconds he’s committed himself to a dangerous recon mission that willend with infiltrating an enemy capital ship withapparently no qualms whatsoever. If this was ever covered indialogue, it was so brief I completely missed it - and this isprobably why his arc “worked” the best; it wasn’t the focus, so Ididn’t care much about how it happened… plus, by the end, Finn isthe only halfway relatable character at all, beating Rose by alandslide because we have awhole movie of development for him (TFA) as opposed to one briefboo-hoo monologue from Rose (oh and her sister died boohoo.) He’s nota fucking Mary Sue like Rey, he’s not entirely certain about his rolein things, and so at the end, when he makes the decision tosuicide-run the Very Big Gun, there’s actually some investment andaudience-character empathy there. Finn,alone, is the only character we can empathizewith.

Andthen fucking Rose putson a stellar display of Asian Driving Skills and robshim of his moment,because-

EVERYBODY WITHA PENIS IN THIS MOVIE IS ALWAYS WRONG ABOUT EVERYTHING ALWAYS,BECAUSE FUCK MEN

Thisis not an exaggeration. In my priorcomments I mentioned that just because everyone saidthis was the case didn’t mean Ibelieved it, because I’ve seen the CHUDs hurl the same complaints atobjectively excellent movies (the latest Mad Max, forinstance,) and that’s before theGamer/pol/Gate crowd made counter-bitching at the SJW bitching apastimefor casual amusement. I wasexpecting some token casting, some throwaway GRRL POWER lines, etc.

Instead,I got the most misandrist movie I have ever seen.

It’snot just a matter ofwriting every male character to be stupid and every female characterto be smart - the laws of probability themselves bendover backwards to make everything a woman does the right choice, andeverything a man does the wrong one… except even when the Universedoesn’t do that, theman gets his ass chewed out anyways for making the rightcall.

Butthat came later. My first exposure to the misandry came in the formof Admiral Holdo, a purple-haired, ballgown-clad fleet Admiral wholooked like she walked out of Tumblr SJW Central Casting. But despiteThe Internet having named this character as egregiously bad manytimes, nothing, nothing prepared me for the actualperformance.

LauraDern deliberately portrays Holdo as a venomous, imperiousbully.

Onehas to actually see the performance to appreciate howdeliberate and well-done it is. Laura Dern crosses her arms, doesn’tface the person she’s addressing, literally looks down her nose whenshe does, and even does that particular kind of sneer whereone bites their lower lip and looks at someone like they’re dogshit.Laura Dern’s delivery perfectly matches the scripted lines - sheresponds to a straightforward request for information from Daemon Poeby insulting him, then attacking him- “My plan? Like yourplan which destroyed all our bombers?” She then proceeds to attackhis manhood, calling him a stupid little gung-ho flyboy, and advisinghim to “stick to his post and follow my orders” with the exactsneering tone of someone saying “sit down and be a good littleboy.” The soft-spoken volume of the delivery just drives it home -it’s the “oh, honey” condescending shitpost meme made manifestand played entirely straight.

Theworst part of this performance is that Hold is supposed tobe an Admiral, a military officer. Poe eve drops a line about herbeing the hero of such and such battle to establish that she’ssupposedly respected and famous - and then she proceeds to shredthat impression by acting like anything but a militaryofficer. Captain Janeway on Star Trek: Voyager wasn’t verynice - in fact, she could be an outright rude asshole - but shealways sounded like a Captain when Kate Mulgrew delivered herlines. She didn’t deliberately humiliate or insult people by saying“sit down like a good little boy;” she’d say “I’m the Captain,get the fuck off my bridge before I brig your ass forinsubordination.” That’s how the military works; there is achain of command, and those who challenge it are reminded thatthey’re pissing on God’s leg, and God does not fuck around. Todeliberately portray Holdo as literal stereotype of a “nastywoman” suggests that Rian Johnson actually thinks this is what a“strong woman” should look like. And in fact, Laura Dern saidthis explicitly:

Speaking about her character’sstylish-yet-firm leadership, Dern told VanityFair: “[Rian is] saying something that’s been atrue challenge in feminism. Are we going to lead and be who we are aswomen in our femininity? Or are we going to dress up in a boy’sclothes to do the boy’s job? I think we’re waking up to what wewant feminism to look like.”

So apparently CaptainJaneway wasn’t a real woman, because women simply can’t beauthoritative and direct, and if they are, they’re just playing asthose toxic men. From the director’s point of view, a “strongwoman” is a viscous, venomous bully who replies to peoplerequesting information by insulting, mocking, humiliating andsneering at them instead of firmly asserting their lawful authorityand citing their own reputation for competence.

Rian Johnson bothdirected and wrote the movie, so in this one scene, everythinghe believes is coming out - the epitome of an entire plot ruledby the iron fist of misandrist horseshit. The scene itself isan example. The movie opens with the Resistance evacuating a planetas the First Order fleet (led by a massive dreadnought with an“autocannon”) closes in. Poe Dameron, the aforementioned “flyboy”attacks and destroys the dreadnought, against Leia’s orders, just asit is explicitly shown to be locking its Big Scary Gun ontoLeia’s command cruiser (there’s even a cut to Leia’s face toemphasize the point.) There’s nothing to suggest that Leia’s cruiserwould’ve gone to lightspeed before then if not for Poe’s attack;despite him landing in a hurry, we know X-Wings arehyperspace-capable themselves (within this movie, in fact, as we’reshown an X-Wing underwater on Luke’s island; presumably his ridethere,) and as a Captain and, apparently, the Resistance’s fieldcommander, Poe would know the rally point the Resistance isevacuating to.

The movie itselfshows that Poe saved the command cruiser, and with it, the entirecommand staff of the Resistance - and for this he is first demoted byLeia for disobeying orders, and then viciously insulted by Holdo whenhe simply asks her for information. When the First Order follow theResistance through hyperspace with some newly-invented trackingdevice, Kylo Ren and his fellow Spess Fighters zoom in and blow upthe cruiser’s launch bay with torpedo-like missiles… and are thenimmediately ordered to retreat because the capital ships “can’tcover them that far away.” This makes absolutely no fuckingsense, as in the battle scene immediately prior, Poe attackedthe dreadnought to take out its “surface cannons” to clear theway for the Resistance’s bomber ships to attack, and the captain ofsaid ship explicitly says that those guns can’t hit fightersand that they should have their own fighters out there - “fiveminutes ago,” no less, as if lampshading the plot convenientincompetence makes it okay. And since two torpedo-like missilesutterly destroy the command cruiser’s launch bay, you can surmise theFirst Order doesn’t require huge, plodding, and stupidly vulnerable“bombers” as the Resistance used to take out the dreadnought.Said dreadnought didn’t have any visible shield protection during thefirst battle; (especially obvious because we’re later shown capitalship fire hitting the shielding of the command cruiser with verydistinctive special effects,) and in fact the command cruiserexplicitly “focuses its shields aft” to fend off thepursuers capital-class weaponry, just to create the opening for Kyloto nuke the hangar bay (and blast Leia into space as well.) Thereis absolutely no fucking reason the First Order fighter-bomberscouldn’t have finished off the command cruiser right then and there,but we’re simply shown Kylo’swingmen being shot down (by what, we never see,) as he’s told “theycan’t cover him out there” as an excuse. The movieviolates its own rules just to take away Poe’s X-Wing and put Holdoin charge.

Andthis is just the fucking beginningof the Universe itselfbending over backwards to invalidate everythinganyone with a penisdoes. Poe is the one that authorizes Finn and Rose’s sidequest tofind a “master codebreaker” at the Gold Saucer (to sneak on thebad guy’s ship to disable their tracker so the fleet can escape,) buttheir plan fails because Fuck Anyone With A Penis. But that’s not theoffensive part. Earlier, Poe sees Holdo’s fueling the transports, andangrily points out that said transports will be sitting ducks for theenemy’s guns. He asks Holdo againfor a plan, and shefeeds him some fucking bullshit non-answer about “hope being aspark that lights a fire.” With the entireResistance Fleet nowdown to one cruiser (outof three starting ships), Poe intelligently determines that Holdo isfucking useless and stages a mutiny so he can see his own planthrough. Holdo defeats her captors by not getting shot the moment shetwitches and winning a point-blank firefight with much younger combattroops because fuck you. Nowback in command, she sees off Leia (just awake after her impromptuspace-walk) and on thetransports, Leia tells Poe that “Holdo knows the First Order won’tbe scanning for small ships like this.”

Yes.That’s the explanation. Poe Dameron - the fleet’s combat commanderand fighter pilot, someone who’s fucking job isto understand the capabilities of the ships in their fleet - didn’tknow this, but Admiral Holdo did because she has a vagina andtherefore is perfect. They’re boarding the transports to “slipaway” to another planet - visiblethrough the fucking window - andyet the First Order - WHOWATCHED THESE PEOPLE EVACUATE THE LAST PLANET ON THESE TRANSPORTS -“won’t know to lookfor small ships like these.”

Butwait - it gets worse. Finn and Rose’s mission failed, not becausethey were simply caught by security or because they were attemptingsomething that Ben Kenobi, an experienced Jedi knight had to give hislife to accomplish in Ep. 4 whenthe enemy was letting them go, butbecause a traitor betrayed them, who also, conveniently, tells thefirst order about the transports, so they’re revealed by a“decloaking scan” (which implies the transports have cloakingdevices; i.e. an inherent designed ability of the vessels, not just asmaller sensor signature inherent to their size, ergo something POEDEFINITELY SHOULD HAVE KNOWN ABOUT.) TheFirst Order starts blasting transports out of the sky, and of coursethis is all Poe’s fault.

Andthen there’s the Robbing of Finn. Admiral Holdo kamikazes the commandcruiser into the First Order fleet with the hyperdrive (itself afucking massive, retarded plot hole to end all plot holes), thussacrificing herself to Save The Resistance. And yet when Finnattempts to do THE EXACT SAME FUCKING THING not20 minutes later in the movie; a kamikaze self-sacrifice to save theentire Resistance, Rose rams into him to stop because “we shouldsave what we love instead of destroy what we hate.” This line isdelivered as the Big Gun blows up the base’s doors, thus sealing theResistance’s Fate… but wait! They all escape through a back doorbecause Rey shows up just in time to use her never-trained,never-practiced Force powers to clear a rockslide for them. Rose hadno way of knowing this would happen; meaning her ramming of Finn was,as far as she knew, condemning everyoneto death and her andFinn, at best, tocapture and execution by the First Order. But as usual, the Plotitself bends over backwards to make her choice the correct one, andFinns the wrong one.

Shortlyafter this, Poe “completes his character arc” by acting on whatLeia told him (“you have to run not fight sometimes”) andparroting that fucking arrogant bully bitch Holdo’s fortune-cookieAesop about sparks lighting fires, finally acknowledging the WisdomOf The Females, despite everychoice he made in this movie beingthe objectively correct ones, given the knowledge that he as acharacter possessed.

Andwe haven’t even talked about Rey yet.

Ohmy fucking god, Rey.

Reyis the biggest fucking Mary Sue I have ever seen. This,like every other blunt statement in this piece, is not anexaggeration, as much as it saddens me. Rey can fail at nothingshe attempts. Rey has towork for absolutely nothing she gains. Rey has as much raw power asKylo, at least (by Luke’s own judgment,)and she is moreskilled than he is at lightsaber fighting as evidenced by her savingKylo afew times during the throne room fight. This,despite having notraining in the weapon(which has no mass and can lop off her limbs easily, unlike the metalquarterstaff she’s experienced with) compared to Kylo, who trainedunder Luke himself foryears before moving on to whoever the fuck Snoke was supposed to be.Rey can just touch Kylo’shand and “see his future” isn’t all dark, when the much moreexperienced Luke did the same and only saw darkness. Rey can temptKylo to betray his master and move towards the light after threefucking awkward Skype calls. WhenLuke ignored his master and left in the middle of his training torescue his friends, he got his fucking ass kicked, his handcut off, and his lightsaber lost. WhenRey does the exact same thing, SHE BEATS LUKE MOTHERFUCKINGSKYWALKER IN A MELEE FIGHT, FLIES OFF INTO SPACE, AND SUCCEEDS ATTURNING EDGELORD MCSITHBOI AT LEAST HALFWAY AND SAVES THE ENTIRERESISTANCE BY LEVITATING A WHOLE FUCKING ROCKSLIDE WITH NO TRAINING,WHEN LUKE, WHO WAS ACTIVELY BEING TRAINED, STRUGGLED TO MERELY STACKONE ROCK ON ANOTHER AND COULDN’T HOIST AN X-WING THAT WEIGHED LESSTHAN THAT WHOLE ROCKSLIDE PUT TOGETHER.

Reyis a stupid boring nothing, who’s emotions and struggles I can’t finda single fuck to give about because she’s never in any realdanger, never has to work for anything she gets, and never developsas a person at all. I didn’t criticize her character arc because shenot only lacks one, she’s arguably not even a character at all -there’s seemingly no limit to her abilities, no flaws or pitfalls forher character, since everything she does turns out to be the rightcall (sound familiar?) and only the barest suggestion of whatpersonal goals she seeks (and those aren’t sold one fucking bit bythe story development.) For all effects and purposes Rey is a walkingavatar of the Plot itself, or as Rian seems to call it, The Force.

FuckRey and the bantha she rode in on.

THE PLOT IS THE MOSTNONSENSICAL, LAZY PILE OF FUCKING SHIT EVER PUT TO PAPER BY MORTALMAN

Muchof the plot’s problems originate from what I described above; thevery rules of the universe bending over backwards to serve RianJohnson’s twisted misandrist worldview. But they don’t stop there,by a fucking long shot.

Muchhate has been thrown at those “bombers” in the movie’s opening,but as I said before, TLJ cannot stand on its own even in relationto itself. Ignoring all of pre-existing Star Wars canon, eventhings belonging to the “new movies” like Rogue One, within TLJitself, fighter-bombers are shown delivering grievous damage to acapital ship when Kylo’s wingmen blow the shit out of Leia’s bridge,using torpedo-like missiles that can strike at a distance, launchedfrom fast, maneuverable craft. Said cruiser’s bridge was explicitlyunshielded at the time, since its shields were “focused aft” tofend off turbolaser fire - something that’s shown with distinctivespecial effects that were totally absent when Poe was blasting lasercannons off the First Order Dreadnought in the beginning (ergo, itwas unshielded for some reason.) So the movie itself has shownthat unshielded targets can get the shit blown out of them byfighter-bombers firing torpedoes and that the dreadnaught wasunshielded.

Ionly mention this because it really pissed me off personally, andbecause it showcases Rian Johnson’s dogshit sense of drama andaesthetics, as he had a hardon for “WWII bombers” and apparentlythought it’d make for a better, tenser combat scene than Y-Wingsweaving and dodging through AA fire and enemy fighters like VT-8making their courageous, doomed run at the Kido Butai atMidway. The actual plot itself doesn’t have “holes,” asthat implies an otherwise cohesive structure with missing bits. Theplot is 90% holes and 10% substance, a sieve trying to hold meaning.

Theentire movie’s plot is set up by a “low speed chase,” theResistance fleet fleeing from the First Order’s fleet at sublightvelocities, because the First Order is using a “hyperspace tracker”that’ll allow them to chase the Resistance at FTL anyways. TheResistance’s cruisers are faster, which allows them to pull out oflethal range of their enemies, but - as a First Order officer says -“they’re faster and lighter but they can’t get away from us.”

Thismakes no fucking sense. If they’re faster - even by a smidgen -they’re faster. If they can pull out of laser cannon range tostart with, they can keep pulling out of range. They mightsimply maintain range once clear, to save fuel (because ships needfuel and they’re low, of course - something never, ever mentionedbefore in any Star Wars film ever,) but this makes no sense when youconsider that the objective of Admiral Holdo (which she won’t tell tofucking anyone) is to reach a planet with an old Rebel base with atransmitter powerful enough to “contact our allies in the Outer Rimand call for help.” In which case it’d make sense to haul ass forsaid planet, so they have some time to call for help and wait for itsarrival without the First Order launching a ground assault almost assoon as they land, right?

Butwait! Rey delivers herself to the First Order’s flagship via zippingin from Hyperspace with the Millennium Falcon, very close - beggingthe question of why the First Order (apparently not low on fuel)can’t use Hyperspace themselves to zip ahead of the Resistance fleet(even if they’ve got to bounce to a neighboring system due tominimum-range reasons) and cut them off, or just do a direct jump tocatch up. Worse, Finn and Rey take a hyperspace-capable shuttle toCasino World to execute their convoluted plan, which begs thequestion - why didn’t Holdo order an engineering team onto theshuttle and send it ahead to the old Rebel base? HOW MANY FUCKINGPEOPLE DOES IT TAKE TO WARM UP A REACTOR, BLOW THE DUST OFF A CONSOLEAND PLACE A FUCKING COLLECT CALL?

Thesecomplete failures of intellect - yes, even the infinitely stupidhyperspace kamikaze thing - all have one thing in common: they orientaround plans and facts that aren’t revealed to us till the lastminute, so we won’t notice these problems. It’s also because RianJohnson only cared about “subverting expectations” and provingthat his super special women were so clever and right all along, sohe clearly pulled plot elements out of his ass as he deemed themconvenient.

Ifyou’re one of my Twitter followers who usually tunes in for my vagueranting about defense-related matters, some necessary context isneeded: I’ve written literally thousands of pages worth of “quest”fiction; where I write anywhere from a few paragraphs to a few pagesof fiction, then have my audience vote on what the main characterdoes next - and the content itself is anime fanfiction. And Iam dead serious when I say that, at my worst, when Iwas pulling shit out of my ass on the spot, writing almost inreal-time and posting updates without stopping to proofread or editat all, I never did anything this fucking lazy. At myworst - writing that was so awful I wouldn’t wipe Assad’sass with it - I put more effort into my plot and consistency thanRian Johnson did with his titanic budget and multi-billion dollarstewardship of a beloved brand and franchise.

Andthat’s why I don’t find the hyperspace kamikaze moment offensive onits own merits. It’s horrific, yes - it invalidates space combat inthe entire setting, as well as begging questions specific to themovie (why didn’t Holdo use it outright, for instance?) but thesearen’t any worse than the numerous other stupidities that belabor theplot. What makes the hyperspace thing stand out to me is the attemptto excuse it - two throwaway exchanges. A First Order bridgeofficer notes that Holdo’s cruiser is spinning up its FTL drive, andthe commander dismisses it as an attempted diversion to lead themaway from the transports they’re potting like ducks. This isapparently the excuse for why Holdo didn’t do it earlier - she neededa distraction to allow time to turn. Nevermind that the other twoships with them - that ran out of fuel and were destroyed, afterevacuating their crew to the command cruiser - could’ve providedthis option hours earlier. The two lines make it clear that RianJohnson was aware of this plot hole, and he tries to paper it overwith two brief dialogue lines, as if that’ll excuse everything.

Theentire fucking movie is riddled with lines like this; barebreaths that have to carry the entire movie’s fucking plot setup. Reymentions to Luke that the First Order will “control all the majorsystems within weeks” at the beginning. The Order officer’s singleline that explains the Low Speed Chase the entire movie revolvesaround. Leia’s offhand mention of the old base with the Transmitterof Sufficient Power to reach Their Allies In The Outer Rim. Etc. TLCis demonstrably lacking “downtime” as a movie - think Luke, Hanand Leia chatting in the base on Hoth (“laugh it up, furball,”)the briefing in Episode 4 laying out the Death Star attack, etc.Fiction writing calls it pacing, and scriptwriting calls this “storybeats;” you need the right tempo of fast and slow to properly pacea movie. TLJ never slows down long enough to fucking explainitself, compared to the earlier movies - and the OT didn’t domuch of that to begin with! But it did more than enough to ground theentire story in a larger framework of what the situation was, andwhy the character’s actions mattered. We don’t get that in TLJ.Even the fucking opening scroll narration is inferior in termsof information density. It’s almost like there isn’t a plotworth a damn, just whatever horseshit excuse Rian Johnson squeezesout of his anus next, and if the movie stops cramming glossy CGI andaction figure product placement down your throat for five fuckingseconds, you’ll probably catch on.

Thekorn kernel atop this turd sundae was the ending - with the entirefucking Resistance reduced to maybe a dozen or so personnel - andnone of the command staff, save Leia - on board the MillenniumFalcon, which is only a light freighter, capacity-wise. The “outerrim allies” never show, so this is the entirety of the Resistanceforces. They have no combat fleet, no combat personnel, nobases, no resources, no guns, no ammo, no snub fighters, nothing buta single light freighter and their own limp dicks.

Butthe end of the movie shows them flying around handing out secretResistance rings to force-sensitive kids, as if cereal-box decoderrings are enough to overthrow a vast evil galactic empire. Your AR-15can’t stop a government with tanks and fighter planes, but RianJohnson expects us to believe that the ability to levitate rocks andplace intergalactic Skype calls without paying ComStar can overthrowSpace Nazis.

RianJohnson couldn’t write his way out of a Naruto fan forum.

THIS MOVIE IS AMORALLY REPREHENSIBLE SHITPILE THAT NORMALIZES LIES ABOUT ABUSIVEBEHAVIOR BY MALES TOWARDS FEMALES IN ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS

That’sright. I said it.

Thismovie is actively harmful and insulting to women and girls.

Theblatant misandry is bad enough, but the messages it teaches girls areeven worse, the chief one being the normalization of Kylo Ren,the mass-murderer and fratricide “bad boy,” as someone who’s“good, deep down,” If Only The Right Woman Could Cure Him. Thisis a misguided fantasy that dates back to Wuthering Heights, and wasrecently resurrected by Twilight, the fantasy of “saving” a manwho’s violent, misogynistic and cruel. Fantasies aren’t realistic bydefinition, and they all feature in fiction because they’ve an appealto a certain audience - what makes them good or bad is the damagethey do to readers in real life who don’t discern the differencebetween fiction and reality until their misunderstanding leads theminto serious harm. The classic “beauty and the beast” theme of“taming” a  “bad boy” stands chief among the offenders inthis category - but don’t ask me, just sample what countless others have written on the topic. Rey going from angry, grief-stricken accusations ofKylo the Fratricide to longing for his lightsaber after three briefskype calls, a look at his Rock Hard Abs and touching his hand once?It’s textbook Beauty And The Beast bullshit, and apoorly-written example, at that.

Thisis in addition to Rian’s explicit view that - as elucidated byHoldo’s own actress - a venomous, sneering bully is what aStrong Female Leader looks like; reinforcedby how the plot bends over backwards to portray Holdo as a hero. Inretrospect, the liberties taken to put Leia into a coma for most ofthe movie was probably done because Carrie Fisher just couldn’t actthe role of a bullying bitch, and that’s the character Rian Johnsonwanted to showcase as a feminist icon. Again, quoting Holdo’sactress, “[Rian is] saying something that’s been atrue challenge in feminism. Are we going to lead and be who we are aswomen in our femininity? Or are we going to dress up in a boy’sclothes to do the boy’s job?” The message here isn’t that girlscan be hot-shot fighter pilots or gunslinging heroes too - it’s thatmales are toxic, testosterone-driven fools and Real Women are “womenin their femininity.” Not “youcan be anything you want to be” but “feminimity is good andmasculinity is smelly dumb mansplaining scum.” Thisis fucked in the head, andI challenge anyone- especiallythose who recommended I watch this movie - to deny the charge Ijust leveled.

Andfinally, there’s the actions of Rian Johnson himself, the misandristfuckhead who wrote this pile of shit. He was building off the workand script of JJ Abrams, including all the character development that went into it - and now we can see what he decided to do with it.Rian didn’t just fail to make a movie - he actively threw away anopportunity to write a script with realprogressivesensibilities, substituted cheap “subversions” instead, and thenjerked off on Twitter about how fucking woke and progressive he is toget all the fawning accolades anyways.

RIAN JOHNSONPISSED AWAY THE MUCH BETTER STORY SET UP BY JJ ABRAMS IN THE FORCEAWAKENS, AND STILL HAS THE FUCKING GALL TO ACT LIKE HE DIDN’T

I’vebeen told - in various articles and in person - that TLJ achievesbrilliant subversion of expectations and fights against tired oldtropes that reinforce social status norms by bucking the Chosen Onewith Significant Bloodlines thing, most notably with Rey’s parentagerevealed to be of no consequence and Kylo’s focus on “killing thepast” and rejecting moral binaries to forge his own path.

So,on that note, let’s talk about Finn.

Finnwas a brilliant character in concept, the kind I often try to write -a common man, a faceless member of the rank-and-file who finds thecourage to step out of line, think for himself, and eventuallybecomes a hero in his own right. The opening of TFA, with the bloodyhandprint on Finn’s helmet serving to identify him and give a “faceto the faceless,” was a brilliant bit of visual storytelling, andFinn himself has a difficult and dangerous journey as a character.He’s limited in his abilities - he can’t pilot a ship, for instance -and for the longest time his only desire is to run as far away fromthe First Order as he possibly can, to live his own life in peace. Bythe end of TFA, he’s grievously wounded fighting an opponent he knowsdamn well outmatches him, all to defend the life of his new - andonly - friend, Rey. Goinginto TLJ, Finn is poised both as Rey’s most probable love interestand as a walkingrefutation of the Chosen Heroes trope; having gone from randomfaceless goon to the man who was responsible for destroying the DeathST- I mean Starkiller Base. Heknew the way into and out ofsaid base because he used to be on the sanitation detail, aquirk that makes perfect sense andemphasizes how the “little people” in inglamorousjobs often know cruciallittle details like that (like the back door the smokers use.)

Andwhat did Rian Johnson do with this setup?

Finnwakes up and is immediately used for comic relief, smacking his headon the medical scanner, then staggering around in a bacta suitleaking fluid everywhere. Thenhe tries to hare off after Rey, only to get tazed for trying to steala vehicle. Then he’squickly shuffled off to the side with Rose while Rey is suddenly, andwith very poor setup and justification, set up with Kylo and hisneon-white abs as her love interest.

Is now a goodtime to remind you that Finn is black? Yes,the black man gets 1. played for comic relief, 2. don’t tazeme bro, 3. shuffled offscreen while Rey is set up with a white boy toavoid any possibility of an interracial romance. Andall that’s in additiontoFinn’s noble sacrifice being portrayed as bad and wrong, while MightyWhitey Kami-Kaze Holdo is made out as a huge hero for the exactsame act.

Comparewhat Rian Johnson did with what he couldhave done, and thentry to tell me thismovie had any redeemingthemes, arcs, or execution. I fucking dareyou.

AVALON HAS FUCKINGFALLEN

TheLast Jedi is a towering monument to the rot at the heart of ourartistic society. The Force Awakens was a shameless regurgitationdesigned by a soulless corporation to bilk our nostalgic childhoodmemories for every penny we were worth, but at least it had acompetent writer/director at the helm that had some pride in hiswork. By contrast, The Last Jedi had that same greedy, scum-suckingcorporate machine at the helm and a writer-director thatepitomizes the creature that now infests Hollywood:  an arrogant, self-congratulatory prick concerned onlywith vigorously stroking off his fellow wealthy cultural elites, sothey may take smug satisfaction in their moral superiority over theproles. Therecent spate ofself-described “male feminists” who’vebeen revealed to use their professed politics as cover to prey onwomen illustrate the forces at work here - if one utters theApproved Doctrine, everything else can be overlooked and forgiven.Portray Women as Good, Men as Bad and with a few cheap shots atCapitalism in the middle, and you can get away with not writing aplot at all, lazy and poorly-storyboarded CGI scenes that pushmerchandise, and even reducing a black man to comedic relief. This iswhat our corporate-run entertainment industry now rewards - to thetune of tens of millions of dollars - and what countlessleft-wing culture-war publications vigorously and viciously defendwith endless column inches of simpering praise and even asinineconspiracy theories about the Vast Right Wing Conspiracy “gaming”Rotten Tomatoes user review scores to cover up how much audienceshated this fucking trash.

Asa writer, I happen to believe that Art means something. It matters.It nourishes the soul and teaches us lessons about why to liveour lives, not just how. Mankind has been telling stories forthousands of years before anyone figured out how to write them down,much less make a profit off them. As a species we are wired to thinknarratively, which is why stories have power - never a righteouskingdom nor a vile dictatorship has existed that didn’t invest greateffort in fashioning myths and legends to justify and strengthen itslegitimacy with the people. Stories can help, and they can even harm.

Storiesare serious fucking business. And Rian Johnson’s betrayal anddesecration of his art and craft is emblematic of what the very, verybig, wealthy and powerful entertainment business thinks isacceptable. The business of multimillionare serial rapists that arealso major political donors, the business of complicit yes-men actorsthat routinely use their fame, wealth, and cultural influence to tipthe scales of our national political debate - that business.

Ifyou’re like me; if you dream of telling stories that matter,stories that change peoples lives and give them hope as other’sstories have done for you - prepare for dark times ahead. It’s clearnow that Avalon has fallen; that the existing establishment is toothoroughly corrupted to serve society any useful purpose. We’ll haveto use the internet, vanity presses and small websites - as long asAmazon, Google, and the other West-coast headquartered monopoliesallow us them, that is - and do the best we can. Whatever Hollywoodin particular and the entertainment industry in general is puttingout anymore, it sure as hell isn’t art, in any sense ofthe word you might imagine. The real artists will have to starve,scrape, beg, and struggle - but what they make will be worthwatching, instead of an affront to common sense and common decency.Call them Rebels, or perhaps the Resistance - just don’t callthem surprising, because I FUCKING TOLD YOU SO.

[bearpillowmonster]

FF7 Remake Review (Gameplay)

Great big pizza in the sky? Ha, yeah!

I never played the original FF7, all I know is the stuff from Kingdom Hearts and (spoilers) Aerith dying which puts me in a unique position. If my opinion is a little swayed then it’s because this is my first experience. However before you say I don’t have any experience and you don’t care what I think, I did play through a decent amount of Crisis Core before I lost my save file but finished by watching a cutscene compilation on YouTube and got the whole scoop. This will be spoilers since it’s been a while since the game came out but I’m doing it through exposure, gameplay first, characters next, then story, if you don’t want any of the first two spoiled then I suppose you’re already sold on the game but I’m making then separate parts because of how much there is. There will be some things I’ll compare to the original game in the later parts, only because I looked it up after beating the game.

Let’s start with gameplay. I’m not a fan of turn based, which makes it a good thing that this game doesn’t exactly have that. There are a lot of things I could compare it to and people are going to say it originated from somewhere else but I don’t care. So the combat is more real-time action based, so you can actually hit square and you’ll attack vs picking a command and having turns. You do have commands to heal and use special abilities and magic like Kingdom Hearts and bringing up that command menu slows time so much that it’s almost a stand still so you have time to think about what you’re going to do. The core combat is regular, kind of like FFXV but better (much better in my opinion.) There is a stagger meter which I’ve seen in FF13, you attack consistently and the enemy will break under pressure and is vulnerable to more damage, some abilities may be stronger in this instance and is also used much better in this gameplay style.

It’s true you can play as other characters, this is during combat, it’s really enjoyable playing as them. If you’re really feeling up to it, you can command them what to do, what to focus on, what attacks to use, while controlling your main. You’re going to have a harder time in some instances with Cloud than you would using a more effective character like Barrett. Imagine turrets that are high up, it’s hard to reach with a sword right? That also goes for if an enemy traps you, just jump ship and play as the other character to get the enemy off. (Imagine playing as Donald Duck to heal Sora instead of waiting for him to do it himself as an NPC) plus maybe you equipped a specific command to a character or want to use their specials. I like the fast pace and how they’re actively telling you stuff that needs to be done, during both combat and regular gameplay, there’s always a conversation. One thing that you need to keep all your party members in sync by the ending, I gave 3 of my characters the good and maxed materia while I just had regular stuff for the other, rotate your materia and make sure you have one readily available for each member to use rather than switch it out when the time is right, I’ve had to fight bosses weak to something such as lightning and not have it equipped because the two party members that do have it equipped, aren’t in the battle so I had to cheese it just using limits and abilities.

With the gameplay variety comes different types of weapons for each member, for example, with Cloud if you use the buster sword, it’s the combat I’ve described along with Punisher mode which is heavy attacks in sets, but I believe your guard is lowered a little, you can’t dodge, and you can’t do aerial combat in this mode (don’t worry, you just press triangle to change it) but with something like a Nailed bat, he powers up his swing which can take some much needed time but has a strong impact (seeing as you’ve upgraded it) and some come with naturally better stats, like higher power/magic. Trust me, it sounds more complicated than it actually is, I even thought it looked more complicated in the E3 presentation but no, don’t take its looks at face value, just feel it for yourself, you can ease into it.

The way it interweaves between cutscene, venturing, and combat is very smooth, comparable to how KH3 does it because gone are the text boxes of yesterday, and here are the full fledged voice acted cutscenes (with subtitles) of today. This is very nice but at the same time, I like to talk to randoms and then skim and walk away in most games, but this one makes you wait until they finish saying their sentence, which isn’t bad, it’s only a sentence but just a thing I do in my impatience. It does help with the world building because even just walking around, you’ll hear people talk and the sidebar will have their dialogue so it’s out of the way and not in your face and you know it’s just side stuff.

Speaking of “Out of the way”, I get anxious over menus and sub menus and certain games being complicated, hence the reason I don’t like turn based combat, the two seem to go together, but this game takes everything that I don’t like about them and turns it on its head, it’s really good, nothing is cluttered, yet I don’t have to search for stuff, very good organization and capitalized on the stuff I actually like from FF.

With that being said though, this still has side quests and I kind of hate a lot of the side quests in FF games in general, with FFXV, I would get a roadblock because I needed more EXP before going any farther and the only way to do that is through side quests, I was able to do it a bit better with this one though especially since it’s only available during certain chapters and you’re always on the move fighting enemies for EXP anyway. If you’re going to do the quests though, you either do it all at once or not at all (for that chapter) because it gives you what I would call a grace period of an allotted time to explore the place and do some side quests but you can’t go back and do them, so you can’t switch between main quests and then do a few side ones which in a way I can respect because it keeps the narrative rolling in my opinion since you’re going sector you sector but just something fundamental that is either respected or hated. That is until after you finish the game, then you get chapter select, which is a great idea makes me glad I can just jump back in if there’s something I want to do really bad.

One of the main things I hated about FF12 is that I had no idea what I was doing or where I was going, in fact the only reason I got that game is because I got my Roman numerals mixed up and thought XII was VII and they just ported VII to the PS2 but no. This game is decent at telling you where to go, however, it expects you to explore for some of them, it doesn’t always show where to go on the map. Internet is a lot more convenient these days so it’s not too much trouble, I never spent a lot of time on being lost, let’s put it that way. XV has those really tough enemies in certain areas that you could just run away from if you’re under leveled but with this more linear setup, it has a lot more control with its leveling. That reminds me, whenever you do finish a side quest, it asks you if you want to fast travel back so you don’t have to go through the hassle of running back.

One thing I do regret is not seeing where the summons were because by the time I actually got into it, I had already passed most of them so check up on that as well as limits. Another interesting and funny tidbit is that I went through the game with basic spells, yeah, I didn’t know how to change from Thunder to Thundaga, that includes Cure so I had to use it multiple times to even make a dent with my characters and I still had a blast? (Hint you just go to use the base command and just press right on the D-pad) Like it wasn’t even overly difficult like you’d expect, it just costs less MP. I did the same thing with KH2 by not equipping a new keyblade/chain until the Xaldin boss so it’s just me being oblivious. Serves me right for trying to do it blindly.

Also I would ask myself how each boss was after I played it and even with the annoying ones, I would think “I still had fun.” Except maybe the Trypapolis’ if you consider those a boss, there’s 3 and they are during the Chocobo retrieval side quest so it’s not even mandatory but I did all the Ch.14 ones and oh boy this boss isn’t hard, no. You can use an ability called “Assess” which tells you what you can use against it for maximum damage and what not to use against it, well these things don’t have a weakness but they are resistant to attack and magic, those are how you beat any enemy so you would think “use an item?” Right? Nope. “Stagger and get more damage?” Nope, the stagger only lasts a literal second. You sit there and do chip damage, they are literal sponges and only attack every so often with a few Aerogas, pointless time wasting battle. FFXV is open world which is a love hate relationship for me, FF13 is very linear...not much to say about that. This is a middle ground, the soft spot, I’m comfortable within its confines, and that’s supposedly one of the main complaints I was seeing in other reviews so it’s just whatever you prefer I suppose. Look at it this way, it was a PS1 game before, why would it suddenly be open world? I’d compare it to the original MGS, though I think there was more backtracking in that one. I would also compare it with, once again, Kingdom Hearts 3 because that’s pretty much all I ever play, it depends on what area you’re in and what’s going on and this that and the other thing. One more thing, Chapter 7’s lever puzzle is stupid, I did exactly as it said and it wasn’t enough.

Man, I haven’t done a review this long and in depth since KH3 but there’s so much to talk about here, it’s unreal. Check out the next 2 parts:

(PART 2)

(PART 3)

[iv-kplpt]

it feels like we’re pulling teeth [grandmaster au]

~21k words (yes i do realize). rated m.  charlie and oswald are two streamers. they don’t exactly like each other. they are both going pro. they are going pro on the same team. whoops?

some notes before we begin: - this was supposed to be short and silly. it’s not. apparently i can’t be casual about anything ever. - there will be a follow-up, because i got SO invested. - i have no idea about the inner workings of programing and i firmly refused to google anything. suspension of disbelief, man. *naruto voice* BELIEVE IT. - charlie’s problems were written from experience, so jot that down.

They started out as anything but friends, really.

The year was 2017 and they were both famous for embarrassing themselves online publicly - even though the proper term for that activity is streaming.

They were both famous for playing games, basically. Sure, Charlie also had a vlog channel and Oswald was a well known foodie - but it was their gaming related shenanigans that drew people to them. They were rivals of sorts - mostly because Overwatch matchmaking system somehow always put them in opposing teams.

Also, she mained Mercy, while Oswald mained… Literally every good counter to Mercy. Roadhog. Reaper. Doomfist.

(The truth is, every character is a good Mercy counter, as long as their player can aim - and Oswald’s aim was impeccable. He was accused of cheating many times; and every times the accusations were proven to be false.)

The problem was - she was a good Mercy. She knew when to switch between healing and damage boosting, seemed to always be one step ahead of her opponents and tracked the locations of airborne Pharah and safely nested Bastion with surgical precision, always ready to fly to safety, always ready to undo enemy team’s careful planning - all while being impossibly optimistic and nice, spamming hearts on match channel and always informing the enemy team they were worthy opponents.

(Lack of capitalizations and abundance of exclamation points were a good indicator of her messages being genuine, rather than generated by game’s anti-ggez bot.)

She was absolutely unbearable and insufferable with her rezes and optimism. Every time Oswald saw CherryPop on the enemy team - he knew he just lost. No matter how long he chased her - in the end she’d always escape his flanking attempts.

At first, he hated her guts.

The feeling was mutual - seeing birdmaskguy would cause a sudden surge of anxiety to travel down her spine, making her realize she’ll have to double her efforts. He was persistent. Relentless. Calculating.

And obnoxious as hell. His quirk - a thing making him stand out, making him different from a legion of other competitive-focused streamers - was being faceless. His nickname didn’t come out of nowhere - and good grief his mask was obnoxious. Shaped after a penguin skull and so completely, absolutely pointless. He never showed his face on stream - even though he introduced himself by name more than once. Finding out what he looks like was just a simple Google search away; he was the only heir to one of the wealthiest families in his hometown. His father was a well-known businessman, and Oswald as expected to take over the family money and name one day; so naturally his face was all over Gotham news.

Except Charlie wasn’t from Gotham, and Gotham news were never big enough to make it matter on a national scale. And she was never curious enough about her nemezis to actually spend her precious time Googling him; why would she? It was only a game.

They first met during placements for season four - and they were in the opposing teams. By that time, Oswald was already a relatively well-known streamer; Charlie was just taking her baby steps, and most important of all - didn’t know anyone in the scene. No one was her inspiration - she was simply being told she’s good by strangers.

NightKnight: mercy NightKnight: do u stream

CherryPop: nope, should i? mikey1111: yeah. you’re good. CherryPop: aww :P thanks!! free rezzes for everyone!!

They met in Hanamura, under the blossoming cherry trees. Her team started out on defense, his - on attack. They had a defense McCree; and he was very persistent. In fact, he and Mercy worked like a well-greased machinery, understanding each other without a word; she always knew where is he and he always knew when she’s in trouble.

birdmaskguy’s first interaction with CherryPop was hooking her away, with intention of killing her in one shot, as Roadhogs tend to do to fragile supports; but as soon as she was hooked that damn McCree flashbanged him, effectively saving her life.

Thank you! he heard the Mercy spam, as McCree reloaded and Mercy pulled out her gun.

She spilled his first blood that match, all while spamming the I’m not a miracle worker… line and jumping around like crazy.

On her first stream, CherryPop killed the birdmaskguy; and thousands of people were watching on his end.

A lot of people lost their shit at his pathetic failure; she killed him few more times with the assistance of the mysterious McCree who seemed to prefer the crouching position. He lost the match and was very close to typing out fuck you mercy in the match channel; but he didn’t. He was better than that-

CherryPop: hey hog CherryPop: OINK OINK

birdmaskguy: >.> birdmaskguy: get fucked, mercy. CherryPop: sheesh, at least buy me a dinner first! pork maybe? :P

They kept meeting like this, and she kept getting more and more popular - first as a Mercy who destroyed birdmaskguy, then as her own - rather skilled and enjoyable to watch - person.

PLAY OF THE MATCH: CherryPop as Mercy. [5 people rez, singlehandedly undoing his quad, accompanied by Hanzo quietly taking care of their Junkrat. Or: 3 people rez immediately followed by a double kill and three last second assists while boosting Hanzo just as he was launching his dragons of destructions. Or: accidentally getting nanoboosted and promptly becoming the legendary harmacist.]

They were bitter rivals all through seasons four and five, always in the opposing teams, always bickering on match chat, her always undoing all his efforts and him fruitlessly trying to hunt her down and corner her in a dead end on King’s Row or give her a choice between an environmental death or an execution in Dorado and so on and so on. They never watch each other’s streams; partially because they usually were doing them at the same time, and partially because they didn’t want to. It didn’t matter anyway; all until one day they ended up on the same team.

They crossed paths many times earlier this week; and Oswald was as persistent as always in tracking her down and distracting her from her team. He hooked her away, he gunned her down, he didn’t let her out of his sight every time they were on the same battlefield; he pissed her off more than once that week.

(Some people on his streams were watching them both at the same time, promptly informing them what does the other one have to say; she called him an insufferable prick more than once. And a dick. And a complete and utter asshole, good lord, fuck him and his obsession with ME and FRESH TOMATOES-)

They were both very high ranking in competitive; and in that tier cooperation relied mostly on precise, clear voice communication. Built-in lines were only helpful to a certain degree, and typing was taking away precious time; but he was still a bit surprised when he heard her voice for the first time.

“Well, well, well.” she said as they were picking their characters. “That’s a new.”

Her voice was sweet and melodious and Oswald tried to imagine her spurting out series of invectives fueled by his persistence.

“So unfortunate.” she continued, picking - of course - Mercy. “It’s such a shame there’s so much bad blood between us, right, Birdie?”

“Oh come on.” he muttered, picking Reaper. “You are going to heal me, right?”

“I don’t know.” she said nonchalantly. “I was thinking about pocketing our Rein. Hey, Rein, want a pocket Mercy?”

“JAAA!” their Rein replied, doing their best Reinhardt impression and she giggled and Oswald groaned.

“You heard the big guy!”

“Come on, don’t be like that.” he pleaded as she emoted; he decided the Devil skin she had equipped was very fitting. “I’m dps! I can’t distract them if I’m dead.”

“You are pain in the ass, Oswald.” she said and his name rolling out of her mouth sounded disturbingly right and he hated, he absolutely hated this fact. “A prick. You gotta ask nicely if you want something from me.”

“Seriously?” he asked with disbelief as commenters on his stream were starting to whip out memes. “You want me to beg for heals?”

“It does sound weird when you put it this way, but yeah!” she said cheerfully as the match was starting and their team was leaving the spawn. “Beg for mercy, you pretentious jerk.”

“Oh, fuck you!” he groaned and she only laughed, flying away to take care of Rein and Zarya as he was decimated by Torb’s turret.

Finally - eight deaths later - he cracked.

“Fine!” he said, Shadow Stepping away from the payload, as she was high above the streets of Dorado, flying the friendly skies with Pharah. “Please, Mercy.”

“What was that?” she asked innocently and he groaned. “I didn’t hear ya!”

“Please!” he said desperately. “Pretty please! With cherry on top!”

“Aw, you sound so cute when you beg.” she said mockingly, flying down to him. “Got you. Now go, fuck someone up. Preferably not their Zen. He’s trying his best.”

“Thanks, I guess.” he muttered, getting back into battle.

“Aaaa!” she squealed few minutes later, frantically spamming the group up! command. “Their Harambe is after me now!”

“Their WHAT?” their Rein asked.

“The monkey guy!”

“His name is Winston, you uncultured swine.” Oswald said, getting in her line of sight. “Come on.”

“Hey, don’t be an ass to me, I’m the one thing standing between you and death!” she said, flying to him; persistent monkey followed, promptly getting stuck in Junkrat’s trap.

“And I’m the one thing standing between you and death.” Oswald said firmly as she flew away. “So you too should stop being an ass.”

“Get a room, you two!” Junkrat yelled out, 1v1ing a very foolish Widowmaker. “We have a payload to escort and a match to win.”

“Shut up!” Oswald and CherryPop said at the same time and their entire team laughed.

They won, and he got play of the match; a perfect, sextuple kill, only ruined by her tag in the corner of the screen, as she was boosting him.

(He very begrudgingly voted for her and her astounding 30k points of healing, only slightly spoiled by “40% of team damage taken”. The last number could be lower, if he spent more time protecting her feathery ass and less time being snarky.)

“Well, that wasn’t too bad!” she said cheerfully. “Thanks for the saves!”

“You have my hammer!” Rein chimed in. “No, seriously, hit me up if you ever want to queue in a group. You’re an angel.”

She giggled and the match concluded and Oswald was returned to the main screen, left with a weird, burning feeling in his chest. Heartburn? He decided it probably was a heartburn, first in years.

(He was very careful about what he ate. Not like he avoided junk food; but he was generally careful with what he was putting inside him. And thus he managed to go years without heartburn and indigestion.)

An hour later, he ended the stream; it was early Thursday afternoon and he didn’t have any plans, so he just stretched and began to mindlessly browse the web.

Eventually he found himself on her channel and clicked a random video - and for the first time he saw her face and he sighed, not knowing what was he expecting. Her smile was as beautiful as her voice and when she laughed - and he still could hear the sound of her laughter ringing in his ears - she tilted her head and her red hair would brush her long, pale neck.

She was infuriating to play against and very nice to look at.

“Well, fuck.” he muttered, watching her wink. “Fuck me, I guess.”

*** Streaming was a pleasant distraction, and so was vlogging; and she needed all the distractions she could get, to get away from the overwhelming apathy and numbness that would creep in the second she wasn’t doing something. And playing that dumb game? It turned out to be surprisingly easy, very intuitive. It was an easy sense of accomplishment, seeing gold medals and votes and SR points roll in; and people seemed to enjoy watching how effortless this seemed when she was doing it, how easy. She was only partially paying attention to the game, and yet she was winning, and yet she was doing great; it felt nice, It felt… It felt.

And then there was that one fucking guy. That asshole. That tool.

No, not her ex boyfriend; when she thought of Harry she wasn’t angry. Sad? Probably. Ashamed? Maybe. But she wasn’t angry at him; if anything, she was angry at herself for trusting so easily, for not seeing right through him.

(To be fair, he did deceive everything, her parents included. So it’s not like she was a fool among the wise men; they were all blind idiots.)

That one person able to piss her off went by the name of birdmaskguy. The name was very telling - he wore a mask when streaming, and he often joked he’s doing it to not distract people with his very handsome face.

He played like an asshole. He sounded like an asshole on those short clips she watched on tumblr. He probably simply was an asshole; and they had a bone to pick. Her initial career online was built on her killing him; sure, with time she did get a reputation for her actual skills, rather than firing some bullets into a remarkably large target, but at first she was simply a Mercy who killed birdmaskguy; and his deaths from that match made their way into a lot of “Overwatch worst fails” compilations. For a week or so he was a laughing stock; and boy oh boy was he resentful.

And people liked hearing her call him names as she was running away from him. She called him many things - insufferable prick. Fucking asshole. Unholy offspring of the monster from It Follows and Michael Myers.

(Not in his face though. On match chats she was playful and mockingly friendly; but her viewers heard her. And enjoyed every second.)

People would never guess she’s severely depressed; she was good at hiding it. On her vlogs - about fashion and food and makeup - she was bubbly and cheerful; and messy flats and poor eating habits weren’t exactly a red flag, they made her seem quirky and relatable. No one knew about hours spent in complete silence, just staring at the ceiling. No one knew about her insomnia. And about how she simply couldn’t be bothered to cook, when throwing shit into microwave was so much easier. On the surface level, she appeared perfectly fine; and no one really felt the need to get any deeper.

And that guy - that Oswald Cobblepot from Gotham, that pretentious asshat in a ridiculous mask - was one of the very few people who were capable of making her feel something. Sure, that seething bloodlust wasn’t anything good - but it was a good start. Baby steps.

At some point, she started to come across him outside the game. She was embarrassingly active on shittyfoodporn subreddit; she felt some sort of ridiculous bond with those other losers, who mostly ate junk and microwaved shit and horrifying combinations of ingredients and half-burnt food. It was comforting, knowing her dietary habits are not, in fact, an isolated case.

He, on the other hand - was active on that part of reddit dedicated to good food. Normal food. Actually edible food. birdmaskguy was a well known foodie; he often talked about his meticulously composed diet - or so her viewers were telling her in the comments.

god, i switched to birdie for a second and he’s talking about garlic bread AGAIN.

“Again?” she asked, groaning when she spotted him materializing behind her team. “That sounds intriguing.”

he never shuts up about food!! he was talking about garlic bread yesterday as well. i think he’s obsessed. what a loser.

“Well, that one thing I have in common with that asshole.” she said casually, shooting him in the face. “I also love garlic bread. It’s delicious. And cheesy garlic bread? Heaven!”

yeah, but your whole personality doesn’t revolve around you liking to eat. :p

“More like one third.” she said jokingly. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”

She knew he’s a foodie - but she never saw him in her part of reddit, reserved for loosers very optimistic about their mediocrity and disgruntled people who paid for a chicken sandwich and got a very sad chicken sandwich.

He once commented on her post; it was obvious he’s trying to pick a fight with her. Spats between streamers and high-ranking players weren’t nothing new; just last month she saw another Mercy end her friendship with another player she often queued with. He was toxic; also streamers often talked shit about each other. A fight between CherryPop and birdmaskguy wouldn’t be anything shocking, hell, it’d be something a lot of people wanted.

(According to her meticulously curated tumblr dashboard - some people shipped them. There were fanarts. She only saw one piece of art, relatively mild, reblogged by her mutual, who only did it to yell at the artist for drawing real, actual people fucking. “THOSE ARE NOT FICTIONAL CHARACTERS, YOU FUCKING CREEP” they said and Charlie couldn’t be more grateful.)

Granted, what birdmaskguy said was a harmless joke; he said her dinner looks worse than his pride did after their struggle in Hanamura.

hey, it can’t look THAT bad. :P

Oh, it does. I can’t believe you put this into your body. How are you even alive?

through sheer willpower and the knowledge i have to live to annoy you!!

He never replied and she felt something akin to disappointment; she liked teasing him. It was a fine way of working through her weird urge to strangle him.

(That one time when she made him beg? She wasn’t really feeling great that day, and she was almost glad he initially refused to play along.)

And so they lived - bitter rivals, a depressed Mercy and her food-obsessed tormentor. She’d always make him say please if the ended up on the same team; and afterwards he’d be even more determined to hunt her down - and with each attempt to put her back in her place she’d take even greater pleasure in ruining the match for him.

When season six began they were both famous, and their creepy tag on tumblr was booming.

(She sometimes wondered what does he think of all those fanarts where he was ~getting his revenge~; personally she found them creepy, those random strangers drawing her genitals in great detail.)

Their little feud was still alive and well and her depression was getting worse with each passing day; World Cup was coming up and she kept distracting herself in any way possible.

Eventually… She made her way to the American team - effortlessly. Absentmindedly.

She kinda forgot she even tried when she got the email, informing her of her success.

*** When was the moment he realized he’s in deep, deep shit? Ah, it was during a deathmatch, about two months after he ended up on her YouTube channel and saw her face.

He was taking a short break from comp and wanted to have some dumb fun; so did she, apparently.

This time he heard her insults.

“That’s for making me beg in Dorado!” he hummed. “That’s for Nepal! That’s for Eichenwalde!”

“Hey!” she said as he killed her for the fifth time. “I never made you beg in Nepal, you said please all by yourself!”

“Yeah, well, ever heard of Ivan Pavlov and his dogs?”

“What, you automatically beg as you see me?” she giggled as he was skulking around Chateau Guillard, looking for her, completely ignoring everyone else… For now. “That’s kinda sad.”

“Your life is sad.” he muttered, as he spotted her, turned with her back to him, enjoying the view as Sombra.

“That too, but yours is still sadder.” she said in an upbeat tone as he took the shot. “Oh, you prick.”

“That’s me.” he said proudly. “Prick and an asshole.”

“God, I hate you.” she said, respawning. “Alright. You want war? You get war. It’s on.”

“Alright, doll, you asked for it.” he said. “I’m going to make you regret everything. Your ass? It’s mine now.”

“In your dreams, you fucking furry.”

They engaged in a heated fight in which other players unwillingly took the role of collateral damage and innocent bystanders; and Oswald realized he’s in deep shit when he - without thinking - yelled out “IS THIS A GAME TO YOU?!” to which she for a moment stopped running away and after a brief moment said “...yeah, actually. That’s what we’re doing. We’re playing a game. Did you forget?”

She then proceeded to call him a dumb loser and he sat there, completely mortified, very glad for his mask that was hiding his face and expressions, because in that moment he realized he actually has a massive fucking crush on Charlie aka CherryPop, his bitter rival, always one step behind his quintuple kills, always one step ahead his sextuple ones.

She had a beautiful voice and a beautiful face and her personality was driving him crazy, that way she mocked and taunted him, all while being bubbly and peppy. He had a massive crush on her; and that revelation left him so distraught he accidentally let her win.

“Blow me, you furry!” she said cheerfully, after scoring the last point. “Kiss my ass!”

“I’m twelve.” they suddenly heard a very serious voice, belonging to another player. “And you two are being very sexual. Stop that.”

“You’re not twelve, you’re six.” someone said in the background and Charlie laughed and his heart skipped a beat, because he could see her laughing, he could see her tilt her head as her hair brushed her neck.

(Her neck was beautiful, as if made for kisses and bitemarks.)

“In your dreams… That is, if your diet doesn’t kill you before I get to you.” he said playfully and she laughed again.

That’s when he realized he’s in deep shit; and then he was informed he’s now a part of the American team for the upcoming World Cup.

He wasn’t too shocked when he found out she’s been accepted as well. Of course - she was skilled and driven and it was high time she really let it shine. Their team was in a good hands.

Some website reporting the latest news from the gaming world reached out to him for a comment regarding the fact he’s now going to be on same team as CherryPop; he said he’s “very pleased” and that “he believes they’ll be able to put their differences aside to reach a bigger goal”.

He wondered what does she has to say about it.

*** “I’m not happy about it, but what’cha gonna do? He did well. He deserves the spot.”

Her comment on the situation sounded harsh, but she simply couldn’t be bothered to dress the thing up in pretty words. It didn’t matter; they hated each other anyway, even if she found herself looking forward to crossing paths and deaths with him. The bickering, the taunting, the mockery - it made her feel stings of something. And it sure as hell was better than nothing.

Being on the team required her to temporarily move from New York to Gotham; by pure coincidence she was the only member who didn’t live there. Practicing with actual people on hand made a lot more sense, than just yelling at each other on voice channel.

birdmaskguy reached out to her in that matter; actually he shot her an email, asking if they can talk on discord. His email didn’t mention her harsh comment; but it did sound stiff and official.

They talked later that day; his icon was an aggravated penguin, because of course.

(Hers was her own picture; she was blowing a balloon out of pink bubblegum. It was a bit trashy and definitely sugary; she liked it. It reminded her of being actually, genuinely happy.)

“Hey.” she said with a yawn. “What did you want to talk about? Are you going to, like, threaten me with a lawsuit?”

“...no?” he said hesitantly; that was the first time she heard his actual voice, not muffled by his mask. It was pleasant; melodious, just a tiny bit raspy, energetic. Nice to listen to. “Why would I do that?”

“Assholes always find a reason to sue someone, I guess.”

“Maybe not today.” he said carefully. “Look, Cherry… Can I call you that?”

“Well, better this than bitch or stupid cunt.”

“Hey, you know I never called you that.” he said almost angrily and she sighed; he was right. He never actually offended her, always sticking to things like you ass or I’m going to kill you, then I’ll resurrect you and THEN I’ll kill you again. That was what kinda made the dynamic entertaining; sure, they disliked each other, but they were never hurtful. Almost as if he respected her.

“Fine, you never called me a bitch, I’ll give you that. Still. What do you want, Birdie?”

“You have to move to Gotham temporarily, right?” he asked; she could hear the typical street sounds in the background. “So I have a proposition for you.”

“I’m all ears.” she muttered, absentmindedly rubbing a dried-out stain on her desk; most likely BBQ sauce or ketchup.

“Come live with me.” he said casually and she froze in place, staring at the stain. “Hey. You there?”

“Are you out of your mind?” she asked with disbelief. “Did your brain turn into lettuce?”

“...pardon?”

“I’m not going to live with you! We’re going to kill each other-”

“My family has a mansion.” he interrupted her. “Chateau Cobblepot.”

“...is that its actual name?”

“...I’m going to kill you myself if you as much as make a joke about it. I’ll poison you. Strangle you. Drop my father’s bust on your pretty little head.” he threatened her tiredly and she laughed at how utterly resigned he sounded, but quickly regained her composure.

“Alright, no jokes about the dumbest name I’ve ever heard. How big exactly is that place?”

“Big enough for us to never see each other face to face.” he said nonchalantly. “Google it. Trust me, it’s better than fucking around with hotels or rental. A token of good will from my side.”

“Where’s the catch?”

“...there’s no catch, Cherry.” he said patiently. “Well, maybe except for the fact you have to take care of transporting yourself and your stuff to Gotham, but other than that… Chateau Cobblepot awaits. Free of charge, just as long as you do your job.”

“Does it mean you’ll charge me if we lose? That’s an extreme version of blame the healer, you know.”

“...let’s worry about getting anywhere first, hm?”

“Ugh. Fine.” she muttered, rubbing her forehead; truth is, the thought of actually taking care of her Gotham stay was a bit overwhelming. That’s why she stayed in NYC for so long - because her parents were taking care of everything. “I’ll take your deal. Anything I should know about?”

“Not really, no.” he said; judging by the sounds, he was crossing a street. “Just email me date and time and someone will pick you up from the airport or train station. Also… Do you have any allergies?”

“Except for you?”

“...except that one, yes.” he said, sounding almost amused. “Well, I better stop taking your time, you have plane tickets to buy. See you soon?”

“You promised I won’t have to see you, you know.”

“It’s a figure of speech, Cherry. See you never. Better?”

“A whole lot better.”

*** It worked! He couldn’t believe it actually worked. He figured he might as well give it a shot, considering his parents were taking a break from Gotham and were leaving the mansion all to himself - but he never expected her to actually accept the proposal. Sure, she didn’t want to see him - which hurt more than he’d like to admit - but the perspective of simply having her around for an unspecified period of time… Was enough. “It worked!” he announced after entering the coffeeshop where his friend - and their fellow teammate - was waiting.

“...what worked?” she asked carefully, looking up from her coffee. “What did you do this time, Cobblepot?”

“I told Cherry she can come live with me during the duration of this thing.” he informed Vicki, sitting down in front of her with his back against the wall and his legs outstretched. “And it worked! Well, partially.”

“Well, which part didn’t work?”

“She sounds very adamant in not wanting to see me.” he said lightly, masking his budding despair with an optimistic smile. “I think she actually hates me.”

“Can’t imagine why.” Vicki muttered and he scoffed. “I can’t imagine why anyone would like you, Cobblepot.”

“You keep saying that, and yet you’re sticking around since forever. I think you like me.”

“I’m programmed to feel sorry for losers.” she said, taking a sip of her coffee. “And you are a loser.”

“I still love you. No hetero though.”

“God, you’re disgusting.” she said, wincing. “But anyway, What’s your plan?”

“I don’t have one, actually.” he said, getting up. “Well, maybe except for getting a caramel latte right now.”

He returned with his coffee and sat back down.

“I guess this is a lost cause.” he said cheerfully and Vicki sighed. “What?”

���I hope it’s not.” she confessed and he blinked. “No, don’t say anything, you get to hear me be nice to you once a month. Don’t ruin it. I hope it’s not a lost cause. Remember, I’m a dick to you as well, and yet here we are.”

“Are you implying… Tough love?” he asked, tilting his head.

Vicki sighed.

“Maybe. Or maybe she really doesn’t like you. You’re… An obnoxious ass. I’d say… Fifty fifty.”

“Those are pretty good odds. And you know what they say… A drowning man clutches at a straw.”

“So you really have a crush on her. Huh.” she said absentmindedly, taking a sip of her coffee. “I guess your taste is one of very few not crappy things about you. She’s cute. Kinda too sweet for me, but… Definitely cute. And funny. Watched her video on calling people by their full name?”

“You know I did.” he muttered, looking away; Vicki snickered.

“Right. I forgot you’re a creep.”

“Those are public, Vicki.”

“I know. Still - you’re pathetic. Need a wingwoman?”

“...are you offering your services?”

“Uh-uh.” she nodded, taking a sip. “You know I have no problem saying nice stuff about you behind your back. Just try to not directly contradict what I’m saying and we’re golden.”

“Well, what are you going to say?”

“Not a word about you being a hopeless sap, that’s for sure.” she said with a smirk and he scoffed, hiding his gratitude; he knew Vicki knows he’s grateful. They knew each other for years, and had each other’s back through thick and thin.

Rest of the day passed peacefully. Charlie sent him an email asking  if he can take care of transporting her stuff from the airport; sending it few days before her trip was cheaper.

Of course he’d do that.

Well, if you insist.

i’m not insisting, i can take care of it myself. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

That was a figure of speech. Just send me the dates.

It took her an hour to reply; the message simply said thanks.

They crossed paths in the game that evening; but they didn’t talk much, except for the usual please heal me I can drop down on my knees if you want me to banter. Surprisingly, she wasn’t doing great; she sounded distracted, reacting to everything with slight - but noticeable - delay.

“Are you sleep deprived, Pop?” their Mei asked; the deep baritone contrasted with the cutesy character.

“Just tired, that’s all.” she sighed. “I’m going to stay behind this time.”

She was slurring words and Oswald felt a sting of worry.

“S’alright. We will carry, you try to not die.” he said, switching to Reinhardt. “There. One personal shelter… Coming up.”

“Thank you.” she said slowly; she sounded surprised. “Want a free solo rez?”

“So when’s the wedding?” their Bastion asked, yawning. “Rein’s shield this, solo rez that… Where’s the venom? The spite? The-”

“We’re going to compete on the same team, you dummy.” Oswald interrupted them hastily; he knew that player fairly well. They had a reputation of being rather harsh, mostly thanks to their tendency to getting straight to the raw point. “We’re practicing this whole team spirit thing.”

“Uh-uh.” Bastion said; Oswald could hear the distinct sound of crunching. “Sure.”

She went offline immediately after the match, not even waiting for the votes; he considered sending her a message to ask if everything’s alright, but he decided against it.  Pushing wouldn’t do him any good; plus it would be suspicious.

*** She had a breakdown that day, between emails. She realized she hadn’t left her flat in weeks; she was relying on food delivery and online grocery shopping. The perspective of leaving and doing stuff and actually interacting with people was… Overwhelming.

But it’s alright. She had pills to take in case of sudden breakdowns; it instilled warm, pleasant fog in her brain and dried her tears up and fought off the anxious, crying-induced convulsions. She was calm again; even if her eyelids were heavy like lead and her vision and thoughts were slightly hazy and speaking clearly required a great deal of effort - but at least she was calm.

She googled birdmaskguy’s family home; it was huge. His family was one of the wealthiest families in that part of country, and it showed; she went for a virtual walk through the gardens, leaving taking a look at people living inside the building for another day.

He seemed to be completely unaffected by her - not really intentional - harshness; she realized she’s going to have to tone it down eventually, but as for now she didn’t have the energy to sugarcoat her words.

She made the mistake of trying to play that evening; but her thoughts were clouded with the pills-induced fog and she was doing bad. Luckily her team was understanding; even birdmaskguy offered his help, without complaining or snarky remarks. It was… Surprising; that small, meaningless gesture left her feeling disturbed. It didn’t fit. It was out of place. It was out of character.

She went to bed early, setting up a series of notifications in her phone - laundry. Packing. Shipping her stuff. Shower. Another shower, just in case. The trip.

She had a sleepless night; she simply lied in fetal position, tightly wrapped in blanket, staring into darkness of her littered, slightly airless bedroom.

She shipped her things to Gotham two days later; three boxes of clothes and personal items. Her precious, stickers-covered laptop would travel with her in her hand luggage, along with her favorite blanket, a teddy bear and her documents. Taking her of her stuff used up nearly all of her energy; she was so mentally exhausted she didn’t even reply when Cobblepot mailed her to inform her her things arrived safely and were waiting for her in his home, untouched.

(She sure hoped so. Depressed or not, she wouldn’t want anyone - especially not him - going through her underwear. She had a wide collection of lace and satin; pretty lingerie made her feel a bit better.)

Finally, day of the trip had came and she sighed, looking around her flat. She threw out things that could rot, and threw the majority of dirty dishes into the dishwasher; she didn’t have plants to water or pets to feed. Once again she checked her bag - everything was there. Her laptop, the accessories, her blanket, her meds, her teddy bear, her wallet. She was ready to go, and the cab to the GCT was waiting outside.

Even though the ride would be short, she booked first class; all she wanted was some peace and quiet. She wasn’t feeling chatty and she felt she’s not going to make it through if someone decides to chat her up.

On the station - alone and tired - she felt so out of place, surrounded by lively people who were talking to each other and laughing and feeling emotions and not feeling like their lives aren’t going anywhere at all. She avoided talking to others and looked at the ground, tightly gripping her bag; and everyone ignored her, as if she was transparent.

(She’d like things to stay this way forever, actually.)

Charlie spent the ride silently looking out of the window, wrapped in her blanket, thinking about how apathetic she is to the thought of living - even if only for some time - with someone…

It wasn’t hatred, that thing she felt. It definitely wasn’t hatred; he annoyed her, sure, but she never actually wished for anything to stop, for him to disappear. It wasn’t harassment; he valued his reputation too much to harass.

Or maybe he simply wasn’t into harassing people.

Finally the train stopped at Gotham Central Station; her ride was over. Breathing in and out, her legs shaking and her fingers trembling, she stepped out of the train, looking around.

Gotham felt… Different. Something was in the air, definitely; it was dripping from the gothic architecture, escaping people’s lungs, reflecting itself in glass surfaces.

“Admiring the architecture?” she heard a familiar voice, and when she looked left - there he was, birdmaskguy, Oswald Cobblepot.

He was tall and lean and handsome, which came as a surprise. Narrow lips and very sharp eyes and nice jawline and slightly messy har; he was wearing a well-tailored suit and looked at her expectantly with a polite smile.

So that was the face of her rival. He was very nice to look at, she decided begrudgingly; and he smelled nice. Someone obviously wasn’t a skinflint when it came to cologne.

“Hey.” she said nervously, brushing her hair away from her face; his gaze felt odd, he looked at her almost tenderly.

(Or maybe it was pity.)

“You’re short.” he said and she scoffed quietly; he snickered. “Watch out, you might get lost.”

“Ha-ha, very original.” she said, looking away. “I thought we established we’re not going to see each other.”

:”A necessary sacrifice.” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Want me to carry it for you?”

She handed him her bag without a word and he took it with a nod.

“Car’s parked outside.” he said, walking towards the exit and she followed, looking around. “How was your ride?”

“Uneventful.” she said, glancing at his sharp profile. “How’s… Your day?”

(It’s been a while since her last normal, face to face conversation. She felt like playing a half baked test build of a Telltale game, following an unedited script.)

“Quite eventful, actually.” he said, sounding amused by her awkwardness. “Cat got your tongue, Cherry?”

“What?”

“I’m waiting for some snark, you know.” he said as they left the building; even the air smelled different here, less like dead rats and hot dogs and more like gunpowder and herbs. “Needles and pins and harsh words.”

“Sorry to disappoint, you prick.” she muttered. “It’s easier to talk big online, you know. Face to face… It’s harder.”

“Hey.” he said softly and she blinked, not expecting such a gentle tone. “It’s alright. Take your time, get used to me. I’m distractingly handsome. I know.” he said with a smirk and she groaned and nudged him with her elbow.

(He was right - he was handsome. And nice.)

“You’re too self confident.” she said instead, looking around. “Put that mask on, before you scare some children.”

“Ouch.” he said playfully, fishing for car keys in his pocket; apparently he was driving a dark red Maserati, because of course. “Now that’s Cherry I know and… Tolerate.”

The pause before his last word felt weird, and he said it hastily, almost as if he bit his tongue to force his words to change direction at the last second.

They drove through the streets of Gotham, and she kept looking around curiously. The city definitely looked like it’s living up to its reputation of one of the most dangerous places in America; but it was still beautiful, in a dark way.

“That’s my family’s park.” Cobblepot said suddenly, pointing to a nearby place. “My parents funded it.”

The park seemed to be crowded; everywhere Charlie looked she saw people, enjoying the green grass, colorful flowers and sturdy benches.

“It looks nice.” she muttered. “Any ponds?”

The question escaped her before she stopped herself; she actually tried to drown herself in a bathtub once. She wondered if her brain is trying to suggest something.

He looked at her in silence, furrowing his brows.

“Yes.” he said finally. “Don’t get any funny ideas, Cherry.”

“Is that the Wayne Tower?” she asked a few minutes later, looking at an impossibly tall skyscraper.

“Uh-uh.” Cobblepot nodded. “What, wanna meet Bruce Wayne? I’m his friend. They’d let us in.”

“Maybe not today.” she said carefully, not commenting on his sudden eagerness. “Hey, Birdie.”

“Yeah?” “I changed my mind.” she said hesitantly, glancing at him. “About the… Not-seeing-you thing.”

(Gotham felt overwhelming; beautiful, but deadly. And she felt like loneliness might be unbearable this time.)

“Well.” he said after a short silence.

He glanced at her briefly and she looked away, ignoring the cheeky smile his lips were curled in.

“I knew you won’t be able to resist my charm.” he said finally and she scoffed.

“Your what?”

He chuckled as they drove through Crest Hill; a luxurious, suburban neighborhood outside which Chateau Cobblepot was located, not too far away from the legendary Wayne Manor.

“We’re here.” he finally announced, swiftly parking the car in front of the entrance, next to the fountain; Charlie quietly looked at the massive, gothic building that looked like a perfect setting for a Percy Shelley poem.

They got out of the car and he took her bag out from the trunk.

“Come on.” he said, walking towards the door, white gravel quietly clattering under his shoes. “Top floor of the west wing is for your disposal. I’ll show you the way.”

Top floor? She groaned quietly, thinking about climbing the stairs; due to her lifestyle her body wasn’t in the best shape.

“Something’s wrong?” he asked, as they came in; she looked around, slightly impressed with the interior design, relying on wood and marble and lots of light.

“I’m out of shape.” she said hesitantly. “Stairs are… Not my friend.”

“Well, shit.” he said, sounding concerned. “Should have guessed.”

“Oh, get fucked.” she muttered, knowing he’s referring to her abhorrent diet. “What now?”

“There is a free bedroom in my part of the building.” he said hesitantly, glancing at her. “I wanted to be hospitable and give you the entirety of our guest quarters, but since you can’t climb stairs…”

“One room will do.” she interrupted him. “Back home I don’t leave my bedroom anyway. Just as long as there are no stairs involved… I’ll be fine.”

“Well, okay then.” he said, turning right. “I inhabit the bottom floor of the east wing. I’ll show you the way, and then… I’ll take care of your boxes.”

“Don’t you have like… A butler to take care of this stuff?” she asked him, following him through the corridor; his part of the Chateau had its own small library, well-equipped gym, an office and a state of the art kitchen. The guest bedroom was at the very end of the corridor, tucked between his bedroom and the library; it was spacious, well lit, had a jacuzzi in the bathroom and the bed looked extremely comfortable.

“Our butler left with my parents.” he said, setting her bag down. “And we keep minimal staff. We do most of the things by ourselves. Keeps us grounded.”

“From the people, for the people?” she asked and he smiled.

He did carry her boxes; effortlessly, smoothly, as if they weighed nothing. He was stronger than he looked; and there was something disturbingly nice to the eyes in the way his shoulder muscles moved under the fabric of his shirt.

“There.” he said, setting down the last one. “Still sealed, as you can probably see.”

“I’d sue you if any of them were open.” she said, opening the nearest box and instantly closing it back again, as the first thing she saw was her underwear; and he did not need to see any of that.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it.” he said, walking towards the door. “Unpack, settle down, do whatever. Yell if you need something. Food, for example.”

Her stomach gurgled; she hadn’t eaten that day.

He heard it.

“...hungry?” he asked softly. “I can… Fix that. WIth actual food, instant noodles and frozen tendies have no place in my kitchen.”

“Fine.” she sighed.  “I guess I’m at your culinary mercy now. Do your magic, just… No asparagus.”

“Already setting your rules? Feisty.” he said with a smirk and left the room, leaving her sitting on the floor, feeling oddly at peace in this gigantic house.

She quickly threw her clothes into the closet and drawers and got down to business: setting a quick life update stream regarding the upcoming competition. She’s been pretty quiet about it for days; now was the time to tell the world how things were looking.

“Hey, world!” she said to the camera, sitting on her ridiculously fluffy bed. “You’ll never guess where am I.”

She was in the middle of a sentence when he entered the room, carrying a plate of what looked like pasta with tomato sauce; it smelled absolutely divine. It was obvious he used fresh herbs.

He set the plate down on her nightstand without a word and she kept on talking, only pausing once, to thank him.

“So, I’m at birdmaskguy’s home - hey, thanks! - and he just made me food. Shocking, right?”

“I don’t starve my guests, and especially not my teammates.” he said, crossing his arms on his chest. “Hey, Cherry’s viewers, you can’t see me, but you can hear me. Sorry for interrupting, I guess.”

“People on chat are saying hi.” she informed him. “One person is saying fuck you. Someone… Oh, crap.”

“What?”

“Someone warned me to not go into my tags on tumblr.” she muttered, looking at him, slightly flustered. “They say… I’m not gonna like it.”

Without a word he pulled out his phone and opened the app.

***

He never knew there’s porn of him and Cherry; he never thought someone might be fucked up enough to draw detailed depictions of two actual people having sex.

There were fanarts. There were fanfics. And he instantly spotted two most popular trends among those creepy fanworks - her dominating him and him “putting her in her place”.

(He’d lie if he said he never thought about her warm body and quiet gasps escaping her lips, but in his thoughts - it was consensual. He also kept those thoughts to himself, thoughts of her skin under his fingers.)

“Fucking hell.” he said finally, looking at her sitting on the bed in his home. “That’s… Creepy.”

“You heard him.” she said to her viewers. “That’s one thing we both can agree on. Well, okay, that and garlic bread being delicious.”

She shot him a faint smile and he smiled back, unable to take his eyes off her. In real life she seemed… More tired than on her vlogs; a bit awkward. She stuttered from time to time and had a problem with direct eye contact and made a lot of pauses, looking for words.

He thought about her freckles when he was in the kitchen, peeling and chopping tomatoes, and her soft lips and the way she scoffed at him. She seemed so lost in Gotham, so out of place; he felt as if this city might eat her alive.

In person, she seemed and sounded softer; and this softness cemented his massive crush on her, mixed up with concern for her bad shape and dark circles under her eyes and the fact she apparently forgot to eat.

“Fucking hell.” he muttered to himself after leaving her alone with her laptop; he headed to his gym, he had some steam to let out. “This is getting out of hand.”

He called Vicki and started his sit ups as she picked up.

“You’re on speaker, so behave yourself.” he said before she said anything. “Shit’s fucked, Vale.”

“Uh-uh.” she muttered; he could hear the crunching. “Why’s that?”

“A number of reasons.” he said tiredly. “Hey, is your offer still a thing?”

“Well, yeah. Why, did you fuck up so badly you need help?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” he sighed. “Please, Vicki.”

“Fine, fine!” she said. “Remember about tonight.”

“...what’s tonight?”

“Oh my god, I’m not your secretary, you lazy bum. The icebreaker drinks at the Waterfront?”

“Right.” he said, remembering calling Fish Mooney. “Now I remember. Thanks, Vicki.”

“You’re welcome, jackass.” she said nonchalantly. “Dress up nicely. I got your back.”

She ended the call and he was left alone with his thoughts and the burning presence of Charlie on the same floor; through the door, he could hear her voice faintly. She was laughing, and it was a beautiful sound.

After the workout, on his way to take a shower he knocked at her door.

“Come in!” she called out and he entered the room and she looked up from her laptop and raised her eyebrows.

“What happened?” she asked, before he said anything. “You look… Sweaty.”

“I forgot to tell you, we’re going out tonight.” he said, wiping his face with a towel. “I made a reservation at the Waterfront. The team should get to know each other.”

“For a second it sounded really terrifying, you know. Like a date.” she said with a nervous chuckle. “Do I… Have to be there?”

“Oh, come on. It’ll be fun. The Waterfront’s a nice place. The owner is an old friend of mine.”

“Fine.” she said with a sigh. “I’ll come. When are we leaving?”

“In… Two hours, more or less. Sorry. Should have let you know sooner.”

“Yes, you should.” she said, closing her laptop, getting up and walking up to him. “Get out. I have some dolling up to do.”

She pushed him out of the room and her hand almost burned the skin on his chest, even though the fabric of his t-shirt.

He next saw her two hours later; and she wasn’t lying when she said she’s going to doll herself up. She curled her hair and put makeup on, hiding her freckles, much to his carefully hidden dismay. Her red lips were perfectly symmetrical and she was nervously playing with the cuff of her navy blue blouse.

“What?” she asked as he was staring at her “What?!”

“You look different.” he said finally and she rolled her eyes.

“That’s the point of dressing up, you know.” she said, crossing her arms and for a brief moment he saw a faint flash of her bra through the thin fabric of her blouse. “Good different or bad different?”

“Fishing for compliments, Cherry?” he asked, regaining his composure.

“Maybe so.” she said, putting her shoes on; simple, black pumps, that accentuated her legs nicely. “Anyway, I’m good to go.”

“Let’s go then. Ladies first.”

She walked past him and he smelled her perfume; fresh and fruity, with the most noticeable scent being strawberry.

He looked at her red hair and decided that of course she’s a strawberry kind of girl.

*** He was so infuriatingly nice and polite she wanted to strangle him. Almost nothing like his online persona; and his ridiculously handsome face wasn’t making anything easy. Hating him online, as he taunted and tried to kill her was easy; hating him in real life, as he made her pasta and carried her things was nearly impossible. Sure, he was still snarky; but it didn’t change the fact she felt oddly at peace in his home, in his presence, under his eyes.

(He looked almost impressed when he saw her dressed up and with makeup; that was first time in months she actually put some effort into looking nice. She was kind of glad she packed her heels and nice clothes and cosmetics; and kind of annoyed at the fact he didn’t look at her like that when she was bare faced and her hair were messy. Men.)

He looked very… Human when he knocked at her door and - sweaty, out of breath - informed her of the forgotten plan; and he looked at her apologetically and for a moment she found herself lost in his sharp, intelligent eyes.

Things were fuck, as the wise man once said. Things were fuck.

He held the door open for her, that fucking gentleman; and as they drove to the Waterfront - a well-hidden local, ran by his old friend - she was sure they looked like a picture perfect couple. His dark blue tie matched her blouse, as she absentmindedly noticed.

The club was crowded and she got anxious thinking about navigating between all those - drunk, high, chatty, happy - but he put his hand on her arm.

“We have a private room underground.” he told her, leading her towards the stairs. “You’re not the party type, I take it.”

“Not recently, no.” she muttered, wondering how it’d feel if he put his arm around her waist and quickly shaking this ridiculous thought off. “This place is… Something.”

“First of all, it’s safe.” he said, going downstairs and turning around. “Come on, I’ll catch you if you trip.”

“It’s not the first time I’m wearing heels, you know.” she muttered, slowly walking down as well and ignoring his hand he held out for her.

He only shrugged and put his hands in his pockets; finally they reached their private room and he let her in and she shuffled past him, briefly brushing his chest and inhaling his smokey cologne.

The others were already waiting for them, and Charlie recognized Theo - a pale, young man who went by the nickname XFilesTheome - and Louise, who went by RaptureFucker; she was after law school and was known for actually lecturing people about threats and offensive language; she had no idea who the other people are and if she played with them.

“Finally!” said a young woman, who was lounging on the nearby chair; her hair were tied in a ponytail and she was wearing a suit. “Took your sweet, sweet time, eh?”

“Yes, we did.” Oswald replied calmly, as Charlie awkwardly stood next to him. “There was some traffic. Sorry for not mastering bilocation, Vale.”

Vale! That must’ve been Vicki Vale - of victoriousvale - who often grouped up with Cobblepot. She was a journalist by day, and a formidable opponent by night; her Tracer was almost as relentless as Cobblepot’s Reaper.

“And you must be Charlie.” Vicki said, without getting up. “Pleased to meet you. Don’t just stand there, sit down!”

“...sure.” she said quietly as he pulled out a chair for her. “Hello.”

“Hey.” Louise muttered, not looking up from her phone. “Hold on a sec, I have to read this.”

“Fanmail?” Charlie asked and Louise shook her head.

“God, I wish. No, I’m helping a friend out with her problems.” she said, furiously typing. “You know Rocco?”

“I don’t think so, no,” she said hesitantly, looking at the last man; he was thin and had giant, dark, eyes and a soft, warm smile.

“PennyDumb.” he introduced himself and she gasped; he was one of her favorite Reinhardts and absolutely terrifying to play against. “Glad to finally meet you in person, Pop.”

“Likewise!” she said with enthusiasm. “God, we have so many hours together, I remember when we were both bronze!”

“Right?” he said with a smirk and she laughed. “Time flies as experience points come…”

“Time is but a social concept.” Theo said firmly, brushing his dark hair away from his eyes. “It doesn’t exist, but it serves.”

“...that’s a quote from children’s book.” Charlie said after a while. “About alchemy.”

“Well, now we’ve both exposed ourselves as nerds who read books for children.” Theo said with a shrug. “What can I say? It’s a nice read.”

“I’m going to order drinks.” Cobblepot said suddenly. “What do you want?”

She looked down as she remembered her pills don’t mix well with alcohol. Oswald went around, taking orders; some wine for Louise, scotch for him and Vicki, beer for Rocco and Theo-

“I don’t drink.” she said as he looked at her expectantly. “Sorry. And… Neither should you. You’re the driver.”

“One scotch won’t even get me slightly buzzed. Your pretty little head is safe with me.” he dismissed her and she scoffed; that was the second time he said pretty little head in relation to her. “I can get you freshly squeezed orange juice.”

“Alright.” she said, as Vicki was watching her attentively; she leaned in towards her as soon as Oswald left.

“How’s he treating you?” she asked and Louise rolled her eyes. “I know you’re staying with him, and I know you two are… Not on the best terms.”

“He’s decent, actually. I think he realizes people talk a lot of shit in the heat of the moment. He’s… A good host.” she said, sighing. “It’s complicated. You know how it is - you call someone a piece of shit, but it’s not like that, it’s never like that.”

“Oh, I get it.” Vicki assured her. “I call him pretentious dick all the time and he doesn’t mind.”

“I do, actually.” Oswald suddenly said, entering the room with a tray full of glasses. “I’m not pretentious. I’m eloquent.”

“Same difference, you prick.” Vicki said nonchalantly; Louise put her phone down and sighed. “Now give me my liquor. I’ve been good this week, I deserve a treat.”

“You don’t.” Louise said calmly. “You forgot to feed the cat… Again.”

“He’s a predator! He can feed himself. Besides, he’s fat anyway.”

“Keep your marital spats out of this room, please.” Oswald said, setting a wine glass in front of Louise. “I got you a whole bottle.”

“That’s one of ten bottles you owe me, big guy.”

“Give me time.” he said with a wink, turning to Charlie. “Your juice.”

He set her glass down and his hands were slightly sticky; did he squeeze the juice himself?

(It was perfect, tart and sweet at the same time, thick and delicious.)

The evening was pleasant, and with time Charlie loosened up a bit; after all, those were not complete strangers. Sure, they knew next to nothing about her as a person - but she was fine with people knowing her just on the surface level.

(No one would care about what’s underneath anyway.)

They were all nice; and she found herself glancing at Oswald from time to time, pondering the nature of her feelings for him. Outside the game, he was charming, polite, hospitable, always ready for some petty quarrel; and eventually she came to a simple conclusion - she liked that guy. Sure, it was a weird kind of sympathy, very aggressive and harsh at times; but she definitely liked him. She felt at ease around him - and she only actually knew him for a day.

Things only went downhill from there, from that moment when she briefly glanced at his relaxed, grinning profile and he saw her gaze and nodded lightly in her direction, before returning his attention to Vicki.

*** He couldn’t stop himself from glancing at her from time to time, as they were getting to know their team. At first she was tense and quiet; but after she loosened up a bit… Her natural charm came to surface and Vicki had to kick him under the table a few times to stop him from staring at Cherry.

Because good god he felt he could stare at her forever, at the way she covered her mouth when she laughed and the way she fluttered her lashes; he felt like this is the person who taunted him for months.

(Even though that anxious, quiet Cherry was also delightful. The truth was, he’d consider her a delight no matter the circumstances; he was in too deep.)

Vicki joined him when he was heading upstairs for another beer for Theo and more juice for Cherry; he glanced at her Cheshire Cat-like grin as they were walking up the stairs.

“What?” he asked and her smile grew even wider.

“She doesn’t hate you.” Vicki said finally and Oswald froze in place for a moment. “You heard me. She doesn’t hate you. I have no idea what does she feel for you, but it most definitely isn’t hatred.”

“Well, do you think I have a chance?”

“Who the hell knows?” she said with a shrug. “Maybe. Just because she doesn’t hate you doesn’t mean she’s into you.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” he sighed as they approached the bar; that night Fish herself was behind the counter. “Hey again, Fish.”

“Welcome back, boy. What will it be this time?”

“Just a beer and another juice.” he said, sliding behind the counter. “You still have those sweet oranges, right?”

“Last batch. Just for you… And that pretty little thing.” Fish added with a smirk and Oswald shot her a pale smile. “Sweet like her, eh?”

“That’s the general idea, yes.” he said cutting oranges in half as Vicki sat on a nearby barstool. “Hey Vale, want another scotch?”

“You know I do.”

“Coming up.”

“Oh, I wish I could have you here every night.” Fish sighed, watching his hands. “Why won’t you run away from home and come work for me, boy?”

“Maybe some other day.” he said, setting the glasses down on a tray. “Family business comes first. You know how it is.”

“I do, unfortunately. Anyway. Give that pretty little thing my regards, Oswald. What’s her name again?”

“Cherry.” he replied automatically and Vicki snickered.

“No, it’s Charlie. We call her Pop. You’re the only person to call her Cherry.” she said mockingly as he looked at her heavily. “Come on, Cobblepot. Say her name.”

“Charlie.” he said - softly, tenderly, lovingly. “Her name is Charlie.”

“Pretty name for a pretty little thing.” Fish said with a playful smile. “Good luck, Oswald.”

“Thanks.” he said, lifting the tray. “I’ll need it.”

“Wish I could record it.” Vicki said mockingly, walking next to him. “I bet people on twitch would pay me good money for this one.”

“Oh, fuck off, you sound the same when you’re talking about Lou!” he scoffed, but she only laughed in response.

“Yeah, she’s my girlfriend. Not an unrequited crush.”

“Well, want me to remind you how you were when you didn’t know it’s mutual?”

“You don’t have to, my facebook memories do it on a daily basis.” Vicki said grimly as they were walking down the stairs. “The point is, people in love act and sound pathetic. And as your best friend and wingwoman… I think I have the right to making fun of you.”

“Of course you do.” he sighed as she opened the door for him. “You can do whatever you want, Vale.”

“Ah! Can’t wait to use that one against you.” she laughed out as he was setting Cherry-

Charlie’s juice in front of her. She glanced at him and smiled, rubbing the back of her neck; and he instinctively winked at her, accidentally brushing the back of her other hand with his fingertips.

Finally they had to part ways; their first practice was tomorrow afternoon and they had to get some rest, and in case of Rocco and Theo - sober up a bit.

Oswald didn’t feel tired; and neither did Charlie.

“My family’s park is nearby.” he suggested as they were standing on the sidewalk outside. “We can go for a walk. Some fresh air won’t hurt.”

“Alright.” she said hesitantly, rubbing her arms with her palms and looking away; once they were alone, she got all awkward and tense again. “It’s… Kinda cold though.”

“Ah yes, nights in Gotham can get chilly.” he said, glancing at her. “Want my jacket?” “But what about you?”

“I’ll manage.” he said, already taking it off. “I kinda like cold, to be honest.”

(He lied; he hated cold - but the grateful look in her eyes when she took his jacket was worth it. And so was the sight of her briefly closing her eyes as she covered her shoulders with it.)

That time of day, the park was nearly empty; but it was still clean and well lit.

“It’s nice, I have to give your family that.” she said with a sigh, as they were nearing a pond. “Whoever designed it knew their craft.”

“That’d be my dad.” he said, picking up a perfectly flat pebble. “Hey. Want to play a game?”

“...sure.”

“I’m great at many things, including skipping stones.”  he said, glancing at her. “Make a wish. If the stone skips five times… It’ll come true.”

“And if it sinks?”

“Then we’ll try again.” he said nonchalantly and she giggled. “Come on. Make a wish.”

“Alright.” she said eventually. “I made my wish. Do your magic.”

He squinted slightly, bent his wrist and threw the stone. Plop, plop, plop-

It skipped six times before finally sinking. He turned to her, grinning.

“See?” he said proudly. “What did you wish for?”

“Victory.” she said after a short silence, looking him in the eye. “Not very surprising, huh?”

“Wishes don’t have to be surprising.” he said slowly, hearing the faintest note of hesitance in her voice. “But looks like I just cemented our success.”

“Here’s to hoping.” she sighed and suddenly yawned and he turned his head away to hide the fact his lips were curling in a tender smile. “I think now might be a good time to go home.”

“Already feeling at home in Chateau, Cherry?” he asked as they were slowly walking towards the exit.

“I’m trying to.” she said. “But basically, home is where my heart is… And I think I didn’t forget any internal organs.”

“Not even your brain?” he said playfully and she rolled her eyes, but didn’t say anything.

He bumped into her in the kitchen later that night; they were both heading to bed and he walked in as she was pouring herself a glass of water; she was only wearing a washed out tee and a pair of boyshorts and he groaned quietly, looking at her pale legs and ridiculously shapely buttocks - and when she turned around he could see the faint outline of her perky breasts through the fabric.

She nodded in his direction, seemingly unaware of the effect she had on him, briefly glancing at his chest.

“A knife fight?” she asked, looking at a scar running across his ribs.

“Yep.” he said, shuffling past her to get his own glass of water. “You should see the other guy though.”

“Mmm.” she muttered, taking a sip. “Handy with a knife?”

“You could say that. Though I prefer to limit my skills to chopping onions, rather than stabbing people.” he said, briefly glancing at her freckles; she stood in place, staring at him silently. Finally she shook her head.

“I’m going to bed.” she informed him, shuffling past; her hair brushed his skin. “Goodnight.”

“Sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite…” he hummed and she snickered.

“You know, warning me of bedbugs doesn’t show your family in the best light.”

And just like that she disappeared in her bedroom and he was left with an overwhelming need for a very cold shower.

***

That night she did that one thing she never expected to ever do, under any circumstances - she got off to the thought of birdmaskguy.

He bumped into her in the kitchen, as she was trying to decide between water and apple juice; and he looked scandalously hot, with his messy hair and intriguing scars scattered across his body.

(Good boy from a good family. Where did he even get those?)

And he looked at her like he saw her for the first time; it was an awkward, tense moment, with her body slowly betraying her mind, and him slowly coming to terms with the fact she had a physical form.

They went for a walk earlier that night, through the park; it was beautiful and quiet and she felt unreasonably at peace next to him, even though they threatened to kill each other multiple times. He showed off his skill at skipping stones, and she played along.

She wished for happiness. That was her wish - to actually feel happy again. It felt ridiculous, making that wish as he stared at her expectantly, dim light of a nearby lantern illuminating his face.

As he turned around looking at her triumphantly she suddenly felt the urge to kiss him; but she fought it off. It was ridiculous and out of place and would technically count as an assault. She didn’t kiss him, instead limiting herself to simply staring at him, same way she did many times earlier that night.

And there she was, in her bedroom in his family home, the image of him imprinted in her brain, dishevelled, casual, offensively alluring, and the way he looked at her, as if he forgot she has a body.

(He looked at her same way when he first saw her in makeup and nice clothes. It was weird and complicated and she wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.)

He looked beautiful that night; he looked beautiful in a suit and he looked beautiful in his sweatpants and with bare skin of his torso and her body betrayed her with a wave of heat washing over her, finally centering between her bare thighs.

She got off to her imagination, her thoughts wandering freely, trying to figure out what would his scruffy chin feel like against her skin.

He woke her up the next morning, with very persistent knocking at her door.

“What?” she groaned, her eyes still closed, her body still curled up under the blanket. “It’s early, go away!”

“It’s nine.” he said, still knocking. “Can I come in?”

“Sure.” she muttered, grabbing a pillow. “Your house, your rules.”

She threw a pillow at him as soon as he entered and he threw it back.

“You should eat something.” he informed her, crossing his arms. “What do you eat for breakfast?”

“I don’t eat breakfast, so piss off.” she muttered, returning to her previous, fetal position and closing her eyes; but he wasn’t going anywhere. Instead he cleared his throat a few times, until she opened her eyes again and looked at him.

“What?” she asked tearfully and he snickered. “What do you want?!”

“Breakfast is important.” he said, still staring at her. “Come on. Get up.”

“But I don’t want to!”

“But I don’t care!” he replied, mimicking her; he walked up to the bed. “Come on. I’ll count to three. Get up, or… I’ll get you up.”

“Mmm. Good luck with that.” she muttered, closing her eyes and putting her head on a pillow.

He did drag her out of bed; he grabbed her ankle and pulled, forcing her to sit up. Then he grabbed her wrists and forced her to stand up.

“Come on.” he said firmly. “My house, my rules, and my rule for today is you shall eat your breakfast. Cereal? Oatmeal? Eggs? Toast? Pancakes? Fruit salad?”

“Waffles.” she muttered quietly and he snickered, opening the fridge. Of course he’d make his own batter. What an obnoxious ass.

“You should work on your sleep schedule, you know.” he said, setting a plate full of perfect, golden, crispy waffles in front of her. “Did you stay up late?”

“No, I just sleep a lot.” she muttered; she was tired a lot, no matter how much sleep she got. Sometimes she’d sleep for sixteen hours, only getting up to go to the toilet. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

“Well, some of your habits should die quickly. You have to be in tip top shape.” he said lightly. “What do you drink?”

“I assume you don’t have any cheap energy drinks, do you?”

“No, but I have citrus black tea.” he said, boiling some water. “I have an intrusive question. May I?”

“Your existence is intrusive.” she said and he only smiled and shook his head.

“Are you depressed, Cherry?” he asked, making her tea.

It was a sunny morning in Gotham and she was eating perfect waffles birdmaskguy made her and he was making her tea and they were both in their pajamas, their hair messy and their bodies still warm from the memories of sleep; and he just asked her if she’s depressed.

Weird situation.

“Yeah.” she said, putting her fork down. “I am.”

“We have a very good psychiatrist in Gotham, you know.” he said, adding some honey to her tea. “One of the best. I can get you two in touch if you run out of medication.”

He glanced at her and she sighed, thinking about last night. Did he figure it out when she said she doesn’t drink? Who knows.

“Thanks.” she said, as he set the cup down. “But… Why do you care?”

“Because…” he said after a long silence. “I don’t want your bad mental state to get in a way of our victory. Which means… Me taking care of your sleep schedule and eating habits. Do you exercise?”

“Oh, don’t you dare-” she started, but he interrupted her.

“I’m not going to force you to exercise. What I’m saying is… Some physical activity would probably help.”

He paused for a moment and sent her a provocative grin.

“You wouldn’t keep up with me anyway.”

It worked. It was such a bullshit, obvious bait - but it worked.

“Hey, fuck you.” she said, taking a sip of her tea. “I refuse to believe you can do more than ten pushups. You sit on your ass playing games as well, how fit can you be?!”

Turned out, he is in perfect shape; she gave up after fifteen minutes. He kept on going for over an hour, talking effortlessly, and she sat on the floor of his private gym, trying to not stare at him too much, trying to not dwell on what happened last night too much.

(She was sure it was just a one time thing.)

***

It wasn’t just a one time thing.

As days passed, and he looked after her she found herself thinking about him more and more often. After a week she couldn’t remember what it felt to be angry at him; he was genuinely nice and didn’t seem to mind her occasional meanness; and she didn’t seem to be able to ignore the fact he was attractive. Depressed or not, her body still had its needs - and she had so few actual distractions from her apathy and numbness she didn’t even feel guilty when she’d slip her hand between her legs, thinking about the way his muscles moved under his skin as he was doing pushups.

And as much as she hated to admit it - his efforts in making her feel a bit better by making her sleep at regular hours and feeding her normal food weren’t entirely fruitless. She had more energy, and only had one breakdown; she knew he’d probably stop his efforts if she was firm enough in saying no, but… She didn’t want to. She knew as soon as she returns to New York she’s going to resume her previous, miserable, almost destructive lifestyle; but this thing was nice while it lasted. Kept her grounded.

She kept her thoughts to herself, even though even her viewers - because she sometimes streamed from the comfort of her bedroom in Chateau Cobblepot - noticed there’s something different about her. Her laughter apparently sounded more genuine, and her voice sounded more relaxed; some people made - rather not amusing - jokes about birdmaskguy’s magical dick.

“Ha-ha, very funny.” she said, glancing at the comment. “It’s not like that, you know. Two adult people can spend time together and not fuck.”

tbqph sex is a fun activity, so i don’t think anyone would judge you if you fucked him.

“Yeah, well, I would judge myself.” she said lightly. “He’s not my cup of tea.”

but he sure as hell is MY cup of tea. he’s hot and he cooks!

“He also spends a lot of time on reddit.”

yeah, well, no one’s perfect. okay, except for idris elba. he’s perfect.

“Hm.” Charlie pondered, cheerfully teabagging the floor with the enemy Tracer. “Yeah. That’s true.”

She wondered what’s going on on the other side, during his steams; their audiences overlapped a bit, but his was more… Typical.

She winced, thinking about what kind of jokes probably happen in his comment section.

*** “I’m going to ban you.” Oswald said tiredly, seeing another rape joke. “You know my zero tolerance policy for this stuff.”

People’s reactions to Charlie temporarily living under his roof were… Distasteful. Sure, many people took it well,  some people made mildly funny jokes about the grand finale to apparent sexual tension between a Reaper who just scored quintuple kill and a Mercy who scored a quintuple rez, and some people - who didn’t like Charlie for being annoying and squeaky - wished him luck; but some people reacted in… A truly abhorrent way.

“Stop that.” he said firmly, as another person expressed their wish of seeing him put her in her place, whatever it meant. “We’re on the same team. Sure, we have our differences, but it’s normal.”

did she suck your dick at least lol

“I’d say I feel sorry for your partner, but I don’t think you’re going to get one in foreseeable future.” he said with a yawn. “What is with you people and being obsessed with us?”

people are expecting a hatefuck.

“Well, sorry to disappoint.” he said dryly; he was never a fan of what he called antagonistically aggressive sex. It always rubbed him as borderline non-consensual, hurtful; a little bit of pain was a nice addition, but only as long as it was a path to mutual pleasure, not objectification. “But my sex life is still my own.”

are you implying you don’t think she’s hot? are you blind?

“Alright, this is enough.” he said, once again grateful for his mask. “That’s none of your business anyway.”

come on, you told us about your pierced dick! why are you suddenly so coy? hiding something?

“I was drunk!” he said angrily. “Just drop it, ok?”

A knock at the door; as he looked up, she was standing there, in a t-shirt and underwear and she looked sleepy and soft.

“You’re yelling.” she said. “I’m trying to sleep.”

“Sorry.” he said, staring at her from behind the mask. “I’ll be quiet now.”

“Are you streaming?” she asked with a yawn; she walked up to him, and - putting a warm hand that almost burned his skin on his shoulder - looked at the screen; her face was in frame.

“Hello!” she said, watching him die. “Awh. You’re terrible.”

“You’re distracting.” he muttered; he wasn’t lying. The warmth of her body was distracting.

She giggled and he groaned quietly, wondering if she’s doing it on purpose.

“Well, I’m going back to bed.” she said eventually and left and he died again, too busy staring at her ass.

wow, what a bitch.

“I woke her up. She has every right to not be nice.” he said, locking another person out of his channel. “Anyway.”

*** They hooked up between the matches, between USA vs Germany and USA vs New Zealand.

At that point, she already came to terms with a shocking revelation she actually likes him. Sure, she never told him - not after he explicitly stated he only cares about her depression because it’s a potential obstacle - but he was still a pleasant company.

He called her a tease during the match, as she was frantically flying between the teammates, trying to keep everyone alive, especially Rocco, whose shield was the one thing standing between them and certain death.

“Come on, you tease!” he called out. “I’m dying here!”

“I can’t be everywhere at once, you prick!” she yelled in response, as their teammates briefly glanced at each other with a mix of uncertainty and amusement.

But ultimately they won and he decided it calls for a celebration in form of a feast at Chateau, with champagne and everything they liked to eat.

“And you are going to help.” he said and she groaned. “What? I feed you! It’s only fair.”

“So I’m a slave.” she said and he winced.

“No.” he said firmly. “Let’s keep slavery out of this discussion, please.”

She helped him with groceries, which included a long trip to farmer’s market and a huge order at his favorite, expensive-as-fuck deli. Finally, she helped him in the kitchen - but not without loudly voicing her unhappiness.

“Oh, shut up.” he said carelessly, throwing a small onion at her. “If you really don’t want to help, you can go. But I’ll complain about it a lot.”

“I know.” she said, taking a knife and cutting the vegetable up. “Which is why this heroic sacrifice is taking place.”

“Attagirl.” he said, also chopping something; and she briefly paused her own action to shamelessly stare at the way he used the kitchen blade.

(She wondered if he’s as handy with a butterfly knife.)

Finally everything was prepared and was sure she has cumin and nutmeg stuck in her nose; her hands smelled like a variety of herbs and she had lettuce in her hair.

“Take a shower.” he said, wiping his hands in a kitchen towel; he had some yellow curry paste on the bridge of his nose, surely a result of not using a hand blender carefully enough. “And dress up nicely.”

“Yes, sir.” she said sarcastically and he rolled his eyes. “Anything else you need, master?”

She left the kitchen before he said anything, very pleased with how dumbfounded he looked, even though her cheeks were red.

She took a  - cold - shower, and put on a knee-length, black pencil dress with sheer neckline and black ankle-strap platforms; Oswald knocked at her door as she was doing her makeup, painting her lips red.

“Mmmm?” she muttered, looking at his reflection in the mirror. “What do you want?”

“Red or blue?” he asked, holding two ties and looking exasperated.

“It doesn’t matter.” she said, reaching for her eyeliner. “Blue, I guess.”

He kept staring at her without a word, so she sighed, put the eyeliner down and turned around, still not getting up from her stool.

“What?” she asked, and he blinked a few times.

“Nothing! Nothing.” he said quickly and left, leaving her puzzled.

The dinner was pleasant; everyone was optimistic and chatty and joked about how the Germans are probably crying themself to sleep or maybe cheering themselves up with Goethe or Schopenhauer.

Vicki told her something surprising as they bumped into each other just outside the toilet. She was slightly buzzed; maybe that’s why she spilled the beans.

“I promised him I’ll be his wingwoman, but sometimes honesty just does the trick, you know.” she said in hushed voice, as Charlie stared at her silently. “He’s an obnoxious ass, isn’t he?”

“He has his moments.” Charlie said carefully. “But he was raised well, I think.”

“Yes, he’s a gentleman.” Vicki giggled. “Which is why he’d never tell you half the stuff he told me.”

“Oh yeah?” Charlie said lightly, crossing her arms. “What did he tell you?”

“That you’re a tease.” Vicki giggled. “And very distracting one. He told me he couldn’t sleep the first time he saw you in your pajamas. He never got into details though.” she added, staring at her. “But honestly, I kinda feel him. You’re a pretty girl. You’re not my type, but… I definitely see the appeal.”

“Thanks.” she said uncertainly, slowly processing what she just heard. “You like… Tall girls, right?”

“Tall and dark haired and sarcastic.” she hummed and Charlie smiled palely; it was admirable how faithfully in love Vicki and Louise were. “Do you like him?”

“Are you going to run straight to him and tell him my answer?”

“You bet!”

“Then I’ll keep the answer to myself.” Charlie said, shuffling past Vicki and disappearing in the toilet.

Inside, she looked at her reflection; she looked nice. She wondered if he complained about it to anyone, if she was a distraction.

*** She was infuriating that day and he couldn’t help but stare at her helplessly, taking all her snark and theatrical complaining. He called her a tease completely mindlessly, but seemingly no one noticed; when they won she looked at him proudly and he wanted to do the most cliche things possible - raise her up and kiss her in front of everyone.

But he didn’t, instead he only winked at her; and he barely looked at her when they were cooking, instead grounding himself by focusing on chopping and measuring and stirring, painfully aware of her warm presence.

He - perhaps foolishly - decided to ask for her opinion on which tie he should wear; and her sight left him dumbfounded. That was the second time he saw her like that, and the sight wasn’t any less breathtaking - the conclusion being she looked beautiful in pajamas and elegant clothes and sweatpants, with and without makeup, with her hair messy and neatly styled.

She looked annoyed by his presence, so he promptly left, tightly grasping at the tie she picked.

She drank some champagne that night - a small,symbolic amount, because she firmly refused to let him buy a bottle of non-alcoholic one for her - and she looked at him sipping it. In fact, from certain point she looked at him a lot - did he have something on his face?

(Vicki avoided his eyes that night and he wondered how badly did she fuck up.)

Finally the people had left, and she helped him clean up, glancing at him from time to time.

“Did I do something?” he asked, taking a mountain of plates from her. “You keep staring.”

“Do I?” she replied, quickly walking away, leaving him puzzled.

(He posted a picture of their team on his social media accounts; tonight we are victorious, champagne pouring over us - one match won, plenty more to go! good job. It gathered quite a lot of attention; people were congratulating them and complimenting their bold strategy. Even busy Bruce Wayne found a moment to write an upbeat comment, congratulating Oswald on his victory and asking when is he going to bring his friend over for dinner.)

He was in the middle of a stream when he heard a knock at the door and a quiet can I come in?

“What is it, Cherry?” he asked, not looking up from his screen. “Am I being too loud again?”

“I just could use some company, that’s all.” she said hesitantly and he looked up; she was wearing the same washed out tee and boyshorts she was wearing the first night, and something about her felt… Different.

“Alright.” he said, returning his attention to the game, as she slowly walked up to him and sat on the surface of his desk, next to his monitor.

“How’s it going?” she asked, crossing her legs and folding her hands and staring at him.

“I’m mostly just fucking around tonight.” he said carefully, ignoring the rapidly popping out comments. “I’ll be wrapping it up soon anyway. It’s late.”

“Mmmm.” she muttered, still staring at him.

Finally he said goodnight to the viewers and turned everything off; she kissed him as soon as he took his mask off.

He dropped it onto the floor as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer; and initially, he gave in, only pushing her away when she pulled his hair,

“Are you drunk?” he asked, even though there was no trace of alcohol in her breath.

“I don’t drink.” she reminded him quietly, looking at him attentively; her cheeks were flushed.

“Then what’s going on?”

“Vicki told me.” she said quietly, nervously playing with her hair. “That you… Are into me.”

“Fuck.” he muttered, running his fingers through his hair.

“That’s my intention, yes.” she said with a smirk, brushing his chest with her fingertips. “What, not in the mood?”

“I’m just… Surprised, that’s all.” he said, trying to not get distracted by her touch. “I didn’t think it’s mutual.”

“Well, it is.” she said, gently nudging his knee with her foot. “So what are you waiting for?”

He kissed her without a word, getting up from his chair and picking her up effortlessly; he carried her to bed and she giggled as he slid one hand under her shirt, reaching between her legs with the other one.

“I guess…” he whispered, gently brushing her neck with his lips, squeezing her breast lightly; her skin was smooth and warm and exactly as he imagined it to be. “I’m waiting for you to say please.”

“Then you’re going to wait for a while.” she panted out as he teased her through the fabric. “I’m a patient gal.”

“Yes, but I’m an insufferable prick.” he said with a smirk and kissed her again.

She was so soft under his touch, so sensitive; she scratched his back and her moans and whimpers were like music to his ears as he kissed her neck and held her hips to keep her from moving and laughed in her face as she called him names, while pulling him closer, closer, closer.

*** She snuck out of his bedroom after he fell asleep; her heart was racing and she felt more alive than she ever did during the past year. He was so gentle; and his fingers on her skin felt right. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep; so peaceful and beautiful.

She wasn’t sure he’d play along when she entered the room; but he did. He gave her what she wanted, and more - and yet when she closed the door to her bedroom behind her she felt… Empty. It was a different kind of empty than the one she felt for months; it was painful and grey, not dull and black.

She cried herself to sleep that night, firmly refusing to take her pills, even though the bottle was there, on her nightstand, within her reach.

The next morning he didn’t wake her up at all; when she opened her eyes and checked the time it was noon. He left her shirt and undies on a chair just outside her door; and when she ventured into kitchen she found some oatmeal on the stove, and tea in thermos; still hot, sweetened with honey, like always.

(She didn’t even like oatmeal; but his was thick and sweet and rich, with freshly grated cinnamon and sauteed apples and brown sugar.)

She sighed quietly, putting some bread in the toaster. She wondered where did he go; without him the house felt cold and impersonal. Suddenly she realized she has no idea how do other parts of the building look; for a moment she considered going through other rooms, but quickly abandoned the idea of violating his family’s privacy like that.

She took a shower and got dressed, washing off the sensation his kisses left on her skin; and as she was drying her hair, she heard a doorbell.

“Shit.” she muttered, torn between pretending no one’s home and acting like a normal person. “Alright. I’m coming!” she called out, hurrying towards the front door.

Outside she bumped into Bruce Wayne himself, who was admiring the view with his hands in his pockets and his back turned to her.

He turned around and raised his eyebrows.

“Well.” he said hesitantly. “You’re not Oz.”

“He’s… Out.” she said, brushing her moist hair away from her face. “And I have no idea when is he going to be back.”

“Alright.” Wayne said carefully, looking at her. “Can I come in and wait for him, or-”

“Oh, sure!” she said quickly, moving aside to let him in. “He didn’t tell me he’s expecting someone today.”

“Probably because it’s a surprise visit.” he said, going inside and glancing at her. “You’re on his team, right?”

“I’m the healer, yes.” she said, following him. “And I’m the parasite who’s living with him.”

“That’s harsh.” Bruce said hesitantly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name-”

“Charlie.” she interrupted him. “I’m Charlie. People online call me Pop. Oswald calls me Cherry.”

“Yes, he always has nicknames for people close to him.” Bruce said and her heart skipped a beat. “He used to call me Zorro… Though he stopped at some point. Now it’s just-”

“Brucie!” she heard Oswald’s voice coming from behind them; when they turned around he was standing in the doorway with a wide smile on his face. “It’s been ages!”

“Work.” Bruce said with a smile, and the two friends embraced; Oswald briefly glanced at Charlie over Bruce’s shoulder and his smile disappeared for a moment. “But I have a free afternoon, so I thought it might a good idea to pay you a visit. Catch up a bit. Check if everything’s alright.”

“Oh, everything’s dandy.” Oswald assured him and Charlie stood there awkwardly, wondering if he regrets last night ever happening. “I see you’ve met my temporary cohabitant”

“I’ll leave you two to it.” Charlie said quickly as Bruce turned his attention to her. “It was… Nice to meet you, mister Wayne.”

“It’s Bruce.” he corrected her with a smile. “And likewise.”

She hastily disappeared in her bedroom and opened up her laptop to catch up with the latest drama on tumblr.

Oswald knocked at her door some time later.

“You should eat something.” he said calmly as she looked up from her screen. “I threw some pork into a slow cooker before leaving. Interested?”

“I’m not hungry.” she said, despite actually being hungry. “But I think we should talk.”

“Alright.” he said indifferently, playing with his wristwatch; and his indifference hurt. “Let’s talk.”

“What happened last night…” she said carefully. “I’m… Sorry. I’m not sure what had gotten into me.”

“So it was a one time mistake.” he said, after brief silence. “Right?”

“Right.” she said slowly, trying to look beneath the surface of his calm, trying to find the man who kissed her back.

“Everyone makes mistakes, Cherry.” he said and she felt like she’s suffocating. “It was fun, but it’s not going to happen again. Curiosity sated, and so on.”

“Right.” she muttered. “Well… Well said.”

“You really should eat something.” he said before leaving, looking at her over his shoulder. “I worked hard on your new dietary habits. I’d hate to see my efforts go to waste.”

She flipped him off and he laughed and for a moment it felt like nothing had happened between them, like last night was just a figment of her imagination.

***

When he woke up, she weren’t there; only her clothes on the floor signalized last night really happened, that she really came into his room, that they really… They really…

He lied in bed for a while, trying to process what happened. The warmth of her skin, and the way she reacted to his kisses, and the way she looked at her with her eyes half closed; it was magical.

But - she wasn’t there when he woke up, she snuck out when he was asleep; maybe she regretted it. Maybe she was ashamed.

He got dressed, made breakfast and left the home, without waking her up. He went to Vicki’s place; it was eight in the morning when he knocked at her door.

“Do you know what time it is?!” she asked angrily after unlocking the door, but softened after noticing how miserable he looked. “...what happened?”

“Can I come in?” he asked quietly and she let him in; luckily she was alone that morning.

“Coffee?” she asked, yawning and locking the door behind him; he shook his head, knowing she’s drinking cheap, instant coffee that had nothing on what he had back home.

“You look like a kicked puppy.” she said, making herself a cup of that cheap monstrosity. “What happened?”

“I fucked Cherry.” he said as she was pouring some milk into her cup; she sighed and set the jug down, but didn’t turn around to face him.

She knew.

“She came to my room last night…” he continued, staring at the back of Vicki’s neck. “...and told me you told her I have hots for her.”

“I didn’t think she’d do anything about it!” Vicki said, finally turning around. “What’s the deal anyway? That’s what you wanted, right?”

“You know it’s not!” he blurted out. “You know damn well it was not about getting her to spread her legs for me.”

“...you’re right.” she said after brief silence, avoiding his eyes; he looked at her coldly, remembering the time when he helped her with Louise. He thought he can count on her to repay the favor. “I messed up.”

‘We both messed up.” he said softly, his anger gone. “In fact… I think all three of us messed up.”

“Maybe it’ll clear some air between you.” she said; she was clearly forcing herself to sound optimistic. “How about it?”

“Maybe.” he said, deciding to let it go; there was no point in blaming Vicki for his own actions. “Sorry for waking you up, Vale.”

“You can redeem yourself by going out and getting me bagels.” she yawned. “You know what I like.”

When he returned home some time later, Bruce was there, talking to Charlie; he looked at her as he was hugging his old friend. She looked surprisingly miserable, and excused herself as soon as it was possible; he followed her with his eyes, before returning his attention to Bruce.

“You look good!” he said. “Alfred’s taking good care of you, I presume?”

“Alfred is doing his best.” Bruce said with a smile. “How are your parents?”

“Oh, they’re doing great. Their anniversary is coming up, so they went to Bahamas for two months.” he said with a smile.

“So.” Bruce said after a brief pause. “That girl… Are you two…”

“It’s not like that.” Oswald interrupted him hastily. “She’s a teammate. Just a teammate.”

“A live-in teammate.” Bruce pointed out with a playful grin and Oswald rolled his eyes theatrically.

“Yeah, well, we’re both responsible adults. Tea?”

“Always.”

After Bruce left, he went to her room to talk; in the meantime he made a decision. She snuck out; maybe she wasn’t interested in anything bigger. So be it. He decided to give her all the space she needs; she herself said she has no idea what gotten into her.

When she flipped him off his heart skipped a beat, because it was as if they erased the previous night altogether. Nothing ever happened between them; and nothing would happen ever again.

***

They kept on winning; their team was like an unstoppable force of nature. They knew all of each other’s tricks, after hours spent on playing against each other; they knew all the tricks - and were quick to find ways to assist each other with them. They thought on their feet, abusing slight glitches and the physics engine, and worked like a well-oiled machinery; they won with New Zealand, Australia, Sweden, Japan, Poland.

(Though the last one wasn’t too difficult; a short clip of CherryPop’s Mercy hustling among the corpses of the enemy team with Another One Bites The Dust by Queen playing in the background quickly became a hit.)

And what happened that one night - didn’t happen again. She was sure Vicki knows; Vale looked at her oddly and anxiously. It didn’t seem like the others found out; good. There was no reason for them to know.

(Even though she was sure there’s something going on between Theo and Rocco; but it was none of her business.)

She still got off to her imagination from time to time; but it just didn’t feel good anymore. What she felt during that one time - it was more than just pleasure. She felt at peace, almost like happiness was within reach; almost as if he genuinely cared about her as a person, and not just a teammate. He was so tender, so gentle; a real fucking gentleman.

But it was just a one time thing; even though… Even though she wouldn’t mind it happening again. And again, and again, and again. It was a scary thought; it was not all what she wanted to feel, and she despised herself for it - but the heart wants what it wants and it cannot be reasoned with.

And the internet was buzzing - the word had spread that CherryPop visited birdmaskguy one night and sounded… Weird. The fact some people were bored enough to gossip about streamers was odd and a bit sad; but they did. And she let it slide, not debunking or confirming anything. There was no point in doing so; it simply didn’t matter.

He resumed taking care of her diet and sleeping schedule, and she resumed being unhappy about it; but it felt fake. She was conflicted, more conflicted than ever; lost and confused and yearning for more - but she couldn’t bring herself to talk about it - and nobody knew. Not their teammates, not her parents; and so she had nobody to complain to, nobody to consult.

(Her parents were convinced she’s doing fine, way better than in New York; new diet and regular sleeping hours were actually making wonders. So did the occasional exercise - but she started being sneaky about it, using the gym when he wasn’t around; she simply couldn’t bear looking at him like that.)

She developed a crush on him, on Oswald, on the way he treated her and the way he always rebuked her offenses and the way he once refused to hand her a jar of Maraschino cherries and held it above her head until she promised to pocket him the next match. She developed a crush on him, a crush she most definitely didn’t expect when she first met him on Hanamura, under the cherry blossoms between the objectives. She developed a crush on who he turned out to be under the mask, under his obnoxious quirk; and she wished she could turn back time and refuse his offer. Sure, she could simply pack up and move to one of Gotham’s many hotels - but he’d ask why.

And she wasn’t so sure she has the strength to lie.

***

It was painful, having her so close and not being able to treat her the way he wanted to - with love. When she asked him why he cares about her depression he lied through his teeth, and she accepted his answer; when he gently gave her a way out their bedroom mess - she took it. She wasn’t giving him a chance, she wasn’t giving him false hopes; he held his head high and kept on telling himself it’ll be over soon. Soon she’d be gone, out of his home, out of his sight; and he was sure with time she’d be out of his heart as well. What the eye does not see the heart does not grieve over, and so on.

So he kept on his facade; until everything went crashing down, thanks to his own obtuseness and the Russians.

(The Russians. Of course. In Gotham it’s always either Russians or Italians; almost as if those two nations personally cursed the city. Fuck you, Putin and Berlusconi.)

At first, everything was going well on their part; they were in good moods and well-rested and Charlie was begrudgingly munching on celery sticks he suggested her in place of tortilla chips.

(“...you do have lettuce instead of brain.”

“Ah, but what fresh ideas I have thanks to it! Come on, open up. Eat your veggies… Or else.

“Corn’s a vegetable though. So technically, tortilla chips…”

“...eat your celery or I’ll strangle you in your sleep.”)

The Russians were playing dirty and had no honor - he expected that much. He knew part of their team, he crossed paths with them a few times; and unfortunately - they weren’t exactly on speaking terms.

(He reported some of them for… Distasteful threats.)

Their Mei was constantly on Charlie’s ass, so their attention was divided between making sure she’s making it out alive, and taking care of their Slavic opponents; not an ideal scenario, but they could work with that.

Eventually though, their Mei managed to sneak behind them.

“Fuck! Someone help!” Charlie called out, frantically jumping around, trying to stall the enemy for as long as possible.

“Coming!” he said; he was on his way back to spawn anyway. He had to switch; they had to try something else if they wanted to have any chance at all at winning.

He hooked the Mei away at the last second and killed her in one shot, as Mercy ran to the nearest health pack.

“Thanks!” she said, for a moment looking away from her screen to shoot him a grateful smile; he blew her a kiss in response.

Her face turned pale and she looked away from him, staring at her screen again, even though her eyes seemed… Unfocused.

‘The fuck are you doing?” Vicki muttered to him, gunning down the enemy Zenyatta. “Again?”

“Shut up.” he muttered equally quietly in response, carefully glancing at Charlie; her lips were pursed and her eyes were squinted and she seemed angry.

They managed to score one point. No big deal; they simply had to stop their opponents from scoring any point at all to win. Or they could always get a draw; that’d call for a sudden death. That was a valid option as well.

Charlie disappeared somewhere during the short break between the rounds; and when she came back she was slurring and seemed lubberly. She seemed relaxed - too relaxed.

“Shit.” Oswald muttered as she walked up to him. “Are you alright? Cherry?”

“I had to take my anxiolytic pills…” she muttered, looking him in the eye; she cried. Her eyes were red and puffy and there were traces of tears on her cheeks. “I’m sorry…”

“What’s the problem?” Louise asked, walking up to them; rest of the team followed.

“We have to go on without her for a while.” he said calmly; she shrugged and looked away. “Carry until she wakes up, basically.”

“Maybe an energy drink?” Rocco suggested hesitantly. “I have some Red Bulls in my bag.”

Charlie nodded; but Oswald shook his head.

“Out of question.” he said firmly. “Mixing medicine with whatever’s in that shit… It’s not going to do her any good. I’ll get her some cold water, but that’s it.”

“You’re throwing a match, Cobblepot.” Charlie said calmly, looking at him; her eyes were hazy and she was shaking slightly.

Was she out of her mind? Her health was at stake - and all she could think about was a game?

“We still have a chance.” he said, keeping his concerns to himself; they could wait for another time. “I’m going to get that water. You try to keep her awake.” he said to rest of the team and walked away.

Round two was effectively a 5v6, due to Cherry’s state; they held the Russians off for as long as they could - but they didn’t stop them from getting the first point.

In the meantime, Charlie got better and left her hideout; but it was too late. The Russians got bold; they dealt tons of damage and hurled their abilities carelessly.

It was all over before they knew it; they lost 2:1, Mercy’s rez at 80% as their screens went black.

They lost; they were out.

***

She was doing fine; all until the moment he blew her a kiss in front of everyone, as if that was a normal gesture for them, as if he’d kiss her if he could, as if she wasn’t the one who kissed him first during that night that never happened.

What was he trying to accomplish? She had no idea; probably nothing, she told herself - but it was too late. Seed of a breakdown had already been planted; she excused herself during the break and cried in a bathroom stall, and - without thinking - swallowed a pill, first one in a long time.

It worked… Quickly and powerfully - maybe her organism grew disaccustomed. Maybe her brain was simply too tired to fight it off.

“You’re throwing a match.” she told him, desperately hoping to hear something like you’re more important than any match; but instead she only heard they still have a chance.

(Of course. She wasn’t important as a person, but as a teammate. The surface level was important; no one cared about what’s underneath.)

“Give me that Red Bull.” she muttered to Rocco after Oswald left; but he shook his head.

“He’s right, you know. It’s not wise.” he said and Charlie groaned. Vicki looked at her hesitantly, looking as if she wants to say something; but she didn’t.

(Maybe for the best.)

The ice cold water did wake her up a bit; but it wasn’t enough and it happened too late and they lost and it was all her fault; she knew it, she felt it in her bones.

“We did good.” Theo said optimistically. “We got far. Also, you guys are cool.”

“Right?” Louise said with a sigh. “Shame we mucked it up, but hey, we didn’t go down without a fight. It could be way worse. We could go down same way Poland did.”

Everyone laughed; except for her. Even despite the medication she wanted to cry; and when they weren’t looking - she simply sneaked out, got into a cab and drove to the train station, where she bought a return ticket.

Oswald could take care of sending her stuff back to New York. She was sure he’ll do it gladly, after all that mess that transpired between them.

Few hours later she was back in her stuffy, messy flat; she didn’t even bother to call or text her parents before curling up on the bed and bursting in tears again.

***

“Hey, where’s Pop?”

Theo asked the question - and Oswald realized he doesn’t know the answer. She vanished, plain and simple; and in her state it couldn’t possibly mean anything good.

“Maybe she went home?” Rocco suggested hesitantly. “Your home, I mean.”

“Maybe.” Oswald said, forcing himself to be calm. “I’ll check there. Then I’ll check the train station. Then… I guess I’ll panic. Just a bit.”

On his way home, he checked the Gotham-New York timetable; previous train left fifteen minutes earlier. The next one would leave in thirty minutes.

She wasn’t anywhere in the Chateau; and he checked every single room, even the locked ones. Everything was the way she left it; she didn’t even bother to come back for her laptop.

She wasn’t on the train station either; but when he asked, a woman working at the ticket office - a kind, old woman - told him that yes, indeed, a young woman with hair so red it almost looked fake bought a ticket to New York. The train departed shortly before he got there.

So she went home - and he didn’t have an address. There were many ways of solving this problem - but he decided to settle on the… Most Gotham one.

He called Vicki on his way to the police station.

“She went back to New York.”

“Well, fuck.” Vicki said; he could hear Louise in the background, talking about how McDonald’s french fries are so much better than Burger King ones. “What now?”

“I have to talk to her.” he said. “And Jim Gordon owes my family a favor.”

“I’m not turning the Bat-Signal for you.” the tired commissioner told him. “It’s out of question.”

“Please.” Oswald pleaded, feeling helpless. “It’s a matter of life and death!”

“No, it’s not.” Gordon said impatiently. “Look, kid, I’m sorry, but I can’t help-”

“But I can.” they both heard Bat’s one of a kind, gravely voice; Gotham’s protector stepped out from the shadows in the corner of Gordon’s cluttered office.

“Batsy!” Oswald said with joy, looking at the grim vigilante. “A sight for sore eyes, truly.”

“I heard it’s a matter of life and death, Cobblepot.” Batman said, staring him down. “Stop wasting my time. Cut to the chase.”

“You seem to know everything about everyone, somehow.” Oswald said hastily. “I know you hacked at least four federal databases. I need an address… Of someone not from Gotham.”

“The girl.” Batman said grimly, doing something on the computer built into his gauntlet. “Is she in danger?”

“I don’t know.” Oswald said quietly, as his phone buzzed; the Bat sent him Charlie’s address. “Wow. That was quick.”

“Don’t blow me any kisses.” Batman said as he was leaving. “It never leads to anything good, it seems.”

He didn’t have time to wonder how the hell does Batman know what exactly happened; he had a trip to New York to make.

He only stopped once, to get some gas; he reached her address just before the dawn. She lived in a modern, expensive building; and the receptionist who also doubled as security wasn’t too eager to let him in.

“She said she doesn’t want guests, except for food delivery.” he repeated tiredly. “I can’t let you in.”

“Yes, you can.” Oswald said firmly. “I’ll pay you, alright? It’s a matter of life and death.”

They argued for some time; but then one of the other tenants came home and the receptionist opened the elevator for him and Oswald hopped in, right before the door closed again, leaving the tired man behind.

He rang the doorbell and knocked, over and over again; it took him about fifteen minutes to get a reaction out of her.

“I don’t want to see anyone.” she said faintly and his heart broke a bit; she sounded so tired, so resigned. “Please, go away.”

“Cherry, it’s me.” he said; silence. “I’ve been worried.”

“Why are you here?” she asked tiredly, as if he hadn’t just told her. “We lost. It’s over.”

“I’ve been worried!” he repeated, frustrated. “You disappeared!”

“I went home, because my role was over.” she said. “I fucked up. So I left.”

“Yes, without a word.” he said, resting his forehead against the wooden surface of her door. “So I looked for you.”

“But why?” she asked again and he blinked; he told her already. Was she even listening?

“Because…” he repeated slowly “I’ve been worried. I’m having a deja vu.”

He took a step back as he heard her unlocking the door. Finally she let him in; and he sighed deeply seeing the state she was in. Well, she and her flat.

She was wearing the same exact clothes she wore when he last saw her, and her eyes were red and puffy and the floor was covered in garbage; candy wrappers, empty chips packets, soda cans.

“Good lord.” he muttered to himself, stepping over a small pile of Twix wrappings. “What happened here?”

“Depression.” she replied, wrapping herself in a blanket. “Well, now that you know I’m alive… So you can leave me alone.”

“Fine.” he said after a brief silence. “But only if you look me in the eye and tell me you really want me to leave.”

She raised her head a bit. She looked him in the eye.

“Please don’t go.” she said tearfully. “Leave. Stay? Fuck.” she muttered. “I have no idea what I want.”

“Which is a good reason for me to not leave you alone.” he said softly, carefully sitting down next to her. “I can take you back to Gotham. The others are worried as well.”

“I fucked up.” she muttered. “Big time. I fucked up… Everything. We lost… Because of me.”

“It doesn’t matter.” he said firmly. “Cherry, I lost plenty of times because of you. Doesn’t matter. None of it does. It’s just a fucking game, after all.”

“But-”

“No buts.” he interrupted her. “It’s a game. Period. We can try again next year.”

“Alright.” she said hesitantly. “Take me… Take me back. I won’t run away again.”

“You can run away as much as you want, just let me know beforehand.” he sighed, getting up. “Come on, Cherry.”

“Can you help me up?”

“If you want me to carry you, just say the word.” he said and she smiled faintly.

“I’ll consider it.” she said and he helped her get up and took her outside, to his car.

They were back in Gotham just when the city was starting to wake up.

*** He came; but why?

She couldn’t comprehend why he’d came - which was a bit sad, considering it was one thing she so desperately wanted. Even as she fucked everything up for everyone, even as her role was over - he came. She couldn’t believe her ears when she heard his voice outside; but there he was, looking more determined than ever.

He took her home; his home started to feel a lot like her place, like she belonged there, like she was meant to be there. She felt more at home there than she did in her own flat in New York; especially when she took a shower and put on some clean clothes and went to the kitchen, where he was making pancakes.

“How are you feeling?” he asked as she sat down.

“Weak, but I’ll live.” she said, playing with her hair. “I… Cried a lot.”

“Well, in that case it might be a good idea to take a nap.” he said, setting a plate down in front of her and sitting down with a cup of coffee for himself. “But first you have to eat.”

“Thanks.” she said quietly, picking up a fork. “Maple syrup?”

“Oh, good idea.” he said, getting up and opening a cabinet. “Some sugar might help.”

He handed her a bottle and she gently brushed the back of his hand with her fingertips and he froze in place, staring at her.

“Sorry.” she said, looking away. “I… I’m not trying anything, I swear.”

“No?” he asked, as she was pouring syrup all over her pancakes.

“No.”

He nodded quietly as she finished eating.

“Go to bed.” he said, not moving from his spot. “Get some sleep.”

“And what about you?”

“I just drank a pitch black coffee.” he said, looking up. “I’ll manage.”

“It’s not healthy.” she said and he snickered, shaking his head; and when he looked at her - softly, tenderly - her heart skipped a beat.

“Get some sleep.” he repeated. “You know where to find me if you need anything.”

She fell asleep almost instantly; last thing she heard before drifting off were his footsteps outside.

***

She let him take her home; that was good. She apparently wasn’t able to figure out he had been worried sick; that was… Less good.

His phone was buzzing; others were worried as well.

Got her.

is she alright????? She’s asleep now, but she’s alive.

[praying emoji]

He wondered what’s next; it was obvious she shouldn’t be left to her own devices. It was also obvious he’s still hopelessly infatuated with her; even after a night of crying she looked beautiful, with those red rings around her eyes and matted eyelashes. There was a lot of beauty in her sadness - but it was also painful; both to look at and to bear.

She woke up in the late afternoon, as he was napping in his bedroom; a hesistant knock at the door woke him up.

“Come in, come in…” he muttered, rubbing his eyes. “Hungry?”

“A bit.” she said, shuffling inside. “Oh… Did I wake up?”

“S’alright.” he said, yawning. “I’m a big boy.”

“What now?” she asked, standing in the doorway. “I mean… With us.”

That question awakened him faster than any cold shower ever would.

“What do you mean?” he asked, staring at her. She sighed, crossing her arms.

“Can I be honest?” she asked and he nodded, preparing himself for a figurative kick in the ass-

“I like you.” she said arduously, avoiding his eyes. “I’ve been trying to not, but… I do. I like you. A lot. And I… Know it’s not mutual.”

Had it not been for him being in a state of deep shock - he’d probably throw something at her.

“Wow.” he said eventually. “You are… Not the world’s greatest detective, huh?”

“...what?” she asked faintly, as he started to count on his fingers.

“I offered you a stay here. I took care of your abhorrent habits, I whined to Vicki enough times to finally make her crack, I went to New York just to check if you’re alive, I brought you back to Gotham because I was worried-” he recited, not taking his eyes off her. “And you think it’s one-sided?!”

“But I thought-” she said faintly, but he interrupted her.

“Thought?! Please!” he scoffed, waving his hands angrily. “If anyone here had a reason to think it’s one sided - it’s me!”

“Oh, woe is you!” she replied angrily. “You called that night a mistake!”

“Yes, because you snuck out and locked yourself in your room!”

“I was confused!”

“Newsflash, you asshole!” he shrieked. “I’ve been confused for weeks!”

She laughed, and she laughed so hard she actually snorted - and it was the most endearing sound he had heard in a long time.

“Oh, my god.” she said finally, wiping her tears. “This is incredible. If only we talked like normal people-”

“Drama is more important.” he interrupted her. “Come here. I want to kiss you.”

“And I want to eat something.”

“Ah, alright.” he sighed, getting up. “It’s… Late afternoon. Breakfast food is-”

She threw her arms around his neck as he was walking past, and pulled him in and kissed him; and he gave in, until he heard the sounds her stomach was making.

��Good god.” he muttered. “Do you have a Reaper inside you?”

“Maybe.” she said with a shrug. “Come on. Feed me.”

The Aftermath

Things were going decent, for both of them; even though it took the world some time to get used to the fact they got together. Many claimed it’s just a publicity stunt; some were disgusted and disappointed, some were saying it’s probably going to fall apart in two months.

Charlie decided to actually move to Gotham; she made friends there, and had someone who seemed very determined to keep an eye on her. Not all the time, naturally - just during bad times. Someone to force her out of bed and to take a shower. Someone to keep instant noodles as far away from her as possible.

(Suddenly everything made sense. Suddenly the way he looked at her made sense.)

But first - she had to come back to New York to pack up her stuff. Her parents offered their help; but Oswald was ridiculously disconsolate.

“I’ll be fine!” she said, and he only muttered and kept hugging her, resting his chin atop of her head. “You know you can’t watch over me all the time. I don’t need a nanny.”

“No, I just grew very used to your presence.” he mutered. “I’ll miss you.”

“It’s just a month, Oswald.” she said softly. “Say hi to your parents from me. You sure they don’t mind?”

“The house is huge, you saw it yourself.” he sighed, finally letting her go. “The more the merrier.”

She kissed him one last time and entered the train; she had butterflies in her stomach, the good kind. The kind that came from gestures of tenderness from someone she loved.

*** Without her, his home felt so empty; his family was back, so the rooms were filled with familiar warmth - but he missed her. And it’s only been a few hours.

“Oh, you fucking sap.” Vicki muttered to him over the phone. “Chill out, have some faith, she’s gonna be fine!”

“Yeah.” he sighed, standing in front of her bedroom. “I hope so. Otherwise…”

“There will be no otherwise though. She’s gonna be fine. She spent the majority of her life without you.”

“Yeah, and she developed depression and anxiety.”

“And you are not a cure to her problems.” Vicki said firmly. “Look, Oz, love is a wonderful thing, but it’s not a miracle cure for anything. Her problems are not your fault, neither they are yours to solve. It’s admirable you want to help, but… You gotta let her live.”

“Jesus, Vale, chill out with the preaching.” he muttered. “Would ya?”

“I’ll consider it.”

He saw her online that evening; she posted something on r/shittyfoodporn, for the first time in many weeks.

McDonald’s for dinner. Of course.

Oh come on. he commented.

kfjgjskfjgjdkfgjgjf let me live!!

I’m just joking.

<3

you two are absolutely fucking disgusting. by all means, keep doing whatever you’re doing, but you’re disgusting. keep that relationship shit away from us pathetic lowlifes. ps - fuck, i want a cheeseburger.

Three weeks flew by; she seemed to be doing well - he watched one of her streams and she was bubbly and chatty and a delight to look at.

(She got adorably distracted when a comment from him popped up, and blew him a kiss.)

People seemed to not remember what happened during their last match; or maybe they remembered, but simply didn’t care. There were more important things in the world; life went on, after all.

They crossed paths in game one evening; they ended up on the opposite teams, because of course.

birdmaskguy: hey, mercy.

birdmaskguy: i have a deal.

CherryPop: ?????

birdmaskguy: let my team win, so i’ll be nice when i come over next week.

strawpuff: DUDE, HAVE SOME DIGNITY.

CherryPop: that’s precisely why i won’t let you win. :P i like it when you’re not nice!!

strawpuff: …

Bolero: ……………………….ew

dijkstra: :D omg

(She liked it when he was acting like an asshole; she liked when he was taking advantage of being taller and when he was taking his sweet time with her body. Gave her a reason to call him names; for her it came easier than an I love you - and he understood, after years of being close with Vicki. She’d call him a prick - but then she’d run her fingers through his hair, all while complaining about how infuriating he was.)

*** She missed him more than she thought she would; and eventually she literally provoked him into coming over earlier than planned. It involved internet connection, some boiled - and unsalted - pasta, a jar of Nutella and her phone’s camera.

She posted the photo of noodles mixed with chocolate-hazelnut spread online, implying she’s going to eat it; he texted her few minutes later.

That’s it. I’m coming.

nooooo, she texted back with one hand, pulling out a spare blanket for him with the other one. i was just joking!!

Mm-hm. I don’t believe you. I’ll be there today.

nooooo!!!

:(

hey, i was just joking. come over. i miss you.

<3 <3 <3 <3

He brought a few things with him - clothes, his favorite spatula, a bag of fresh vegetables and a giant jar of tomato sauce he made at home.

“You can’t be serious.” she said, looking at it. “What am I supposed to do with it?”

“Eat it.” he said, setting it down on the kitchen counter. “Better safe than sorry, that photo… Almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Fine.” she said with a theatrical sigh. “But tonight I want pizza.”

“Just as long as it won’t turn out you only ate pizza few days in a row. That didn’t happen, right?”

“And what if it did? You’ll punish me?” she asked playfully.

“No, I’ll look at you sadly.” he said. “Come on. Order up, I’m hungry. Just pick a good place.”

“I know, I know, only highest quality ingredients find their way into your body. The usual spiel. Got it memorized.”

“Mmm, I’m letting it slide tonight. After all, I haven’t seen you in weeks…”

“...are you implying what I think you’re implying?”

“...the inner machinations of your mind are an enigma, but probably yes. Could have worded it better.”

“Asshole.” she muttered as he pulled her closer. “Insufferable prick. Douchebag.”

“I know. I love you too, Charlie.”

“Ndjhfhsjhgjd.” she muttered, as she always did when he called her by her name and he smiled, thinking back to that time he kinda wanted her dead, but not really, because who the fuck would take a game this seriously?