#it is so funny to me. that the one fictional live action character who's stood the test of time in my heart.

[insecateur]

thinking about him a lot these days so here's an alexander mahone doodles dump from when i did my rewatch back in january 2021

[wh6res]

dreams come true | yuta

"soulmate or not. i don't shoot blanks." — ny

[ part of the my bloody valentine collection ]

tw. gore, blood, murder, death, killings, mentions of illegal organ trafficking, violence, mentions of stalking, minor character deaths, weapons (a knife and a gun), almost (??) suggestive content but nothing happened

disc. this is rlly fucked up and yuta is unredeemable. i dont condone such acts. this is all a work of fiction and meant to entertain.

wc. 5k

every time you sleep, the void is sickening. it was all you could see, lightyears and lightyears away of pitch black that made your head dizzy and your stomach dry heave. you've always wondered when you'll start dreaming about your soulmate's memories. they were like little secrets, another way for two people to be intimate without even being together. their days were flashing before their soulmate's eyes in the form of a dream. it's as if you spent the day with them!

you loved it, the whole concept of it. it sounded so wholesome and sweet and jesus fucking christ, you've always been such a hopeless romantic.

it was sweet until it turned sour. you loved it until you hated it. it was romantic until it turned downright terrifying.

you wake up covered in cold sweat, panting and gasping as if you've run a whole marathon.

moonlight seeps through your glass window, slightly left ajar for the midnight breeze to pass through – you walk up to it, pull it shut, and draw your thick curtains together. you exhaled, breath shaking as you tried to anchor yourself back to the ground.

with the only source of your light disappearing, darkness envelops you whole. for once, you craved the void. you want that void back if it meant never seeing something like that again – something straight out of your worst nightmare.

"119, what's your emergency?"

"uhm, i think… i think i just witnessed a massacre."

you reiterate everything you saw in the dream – the mahogany door, paint chipping off the drywalls. the doorknob was rusty, so were the hinges, and it made an ominous creak when pushed open. the light switches on, the first you see was a bunch of dirty ice coolers in what should've been the living room, it wasn't even the slightest bit organized. they were everywhere, and the floor looked grimy and disgusting, like there's a stain they can't seem to scrub off. only when your soulmate has stalked closer did you see the labels haphazardly taped on top of the ice coolers.

kidneys. livers. lungs. pancreas. intestines – you nearly vomited on the floor, trying to relay everything you saw to the operator on the other end of the call.

then came the gruesome parts.

their deaths.

they were five people in total. men clad in cheap t-shirts and pants, wearing all these similar leather jackets. some were well-built, ripped in the arms and thighs, but some were skinny, the jackets hanging on their small frames.

they never stood a chance against him.

your soulmate is agile, quick on his feet with outstanding eye-hand coordination. only equipped with a butcher's knife, but it was all he needed to take them down and send them knocking on inferno's gates. he was skilled, knowing when to pounce and where to slash his knife to maim but never to kill. by the time your soulmate was through with them, everything is bloody red. all the victims' eyes widened as they sputtered and choked on their blood – not dead, but dying...

because your soulmate wasn't done yet.

a killer should have a modus operandi, should they not? so he took out a desert eagle, stood before the bleeding bodies, and shot two bullets straight into their eyes. the finishing touch? carving a frown on their faces with his butcher's knife.

the operator only told you one thing after she's made you describe the place for them to track the crime scene down.

"double-check all your windows and doors."

because you couldn't be too sure, not when you have been granted a front seat to the sad face slayer's most recent endeavors.

the detective eyes you with a certain pity. maybe that's why you don't bother meeting his eyes. you sit still on a chair, camera blinking red behind him, the interrogation room is freezing even with the thick jacket you're wearing.

seven billion people in the world and you're soulmate's a ruthless serial killer who took it upon himself to purge the world of evildoers – he was playing god, no wonder the detective is looking at you like that.

"uhh…" he's awkward, fidgeting in his seat. "and you saw this all in a dream?"

"yes."

you've known him only minutes ago. mark lee was his name and he seems to be a subordinate of a higher, more experienced detective named kim doyoung. you don't know whether to feel offended or not for having a doe-eyed newbie taking care of the case, but you pushed it at the back of your mind, knowing his superior is watching on the other side of the two-way mirror.

"did you have, like, other past instances where you dreamt of him? of what he…" mark looked like he was going to throw up. "what he does to his other victims?"

you shook your head. no. "i've mostly just heard of him on the news. i don't think i have the stomach to find out in-depth what the killer does."

mark takes out a folder, features walking the fine white line between looking apologetic or wanting to say me too. "i'm, uhh, really sorry to hear that."

there's a sudden pregnant silence encapsulating the interrogation room. it felt like you were mourning for something, the chains of dread dragging your heart to the ground as it pounded against your ribcage. mark looked like he wanted to say something, but you swore his eyes darted towards the camera in the corner and decided otherwise.

"anyway…" he trails. flipping the folder open in one swift motion. "past sightings have given us the sad face slayer's name."

he slaps down a picture of a man, his hair raven and a permanent scowl etched on his face. the quality was shitty. it looked like it was a screenshot taken from zoomed-in cctv footage.

"nakamoto yuta, twenty-five, japanese, and has slipped one too many times past authorities that at this point, it's practically a talent."

and just like that, it made sense why you're here.

your lips pursed in contemplation, palms quaking as your fingers reach forward to inspect your soulmate's picture. "and… you want to use my soulmate connection –" you glowered. never had a sentence sounded so fucking cursed and utterly wrong. "– to catch him?"

mark can't look you in the eye. "yes. he's very elusive. his killings have been happening cross-country and, as you can see, have garnered national media attention. the police are hanging by a thread here. a month in his case and all we got is his MO, name, and that he has this weird god complex on him. if we can't catch him by the end of next month…" he shrugs. "the feds are going to interfere, sooner or later."

"so…" you trail, urging him to continue.

"so, we need as much information about him as we can get and your dreams about him will be able to provide that."

fucking great.

the much newer revelations of precisely who it was on the other end of the soulmate connection put a significant damper on your mood. you'd like to think your new little cop buddy who follows you around gives you the least bit sense of security, but alas, it doesn't. not when you've seen first hand how yuta took down five men all at once without breaking a fucking sweat – you absolutely refuse to call him your soulmate, you'd never accept a person with his nature as a soulmate.

you try to hide the bracelet mark handed you last two weeks ago, during your time spent in the precinct's interrogation room.

"please have this on you at all times until we catch him, okay? this is for extra measures, just in case something happens to the cop assigned to guard you. just press the little button here and we'll be there before you can even finish shouting 'help!' – hey, i was just kidding! what's with the face?"

considering you're now probably being hunted alive for snitching on a serial killer? mark lee, that was not funny at all.

"do you have to get inside the lecture with me?" you whine, shielding your face with your hair when you notice people shooting glances at the rather handsome cop they assigned to you. "it's not like he'll attack in broad daylight! and in a fucking classroom, for that matter."

jaehyun looks just about ready to hurl you out the window. "lower down your voice," he scolds. "serial killers don't pick a time and place, sweetheart. he kills when necessary and if it's fucking necessary to murder everyone in that classroom to get to you? he'll do it in a fucking heartbeat."

you sigh when the chair next to you screeches against the floor, the aforementioned male taking his seat right next to you. jaehyun felt more like a babysitter than a cop, who seems to have a habit of constantly inputting his not-even-needed opinions on the most superficial things.

are witness protection protocols like this?

it was a good thing that overgrown bat doesn't come hanging around in your apartment, but he does have the police car parked right across the building's entrance. judging by how meticulous and thorough he seems to be, he won't miss any face that comes in and out of the building.

you didn't forget exactly why you're under witness protection. for the cops to waste one good officer to follow you around, you needed to be valuable and being valuable meant sleeping through nightmare-induced dreams of what your soulmate does for a living. the scenes are so gruesome, so graphic and utterly gory, that you dart towards the bathroom first thing after waking up in cold sweat, draining all of dinner down the toilet bowl.

after dreaming of him in action a few times, you've now completely understood what detective lee had said regarding yuta's god complex. it was unsightly, yet there was a twisted sense of heroism to it. if there's one thing, he only gutted the bad guys – but that didn't make nakamoto yuta any less of a bad guy, himself.

i need to ask you a favor [sent 2:05am]

JJH: what? [received 2:10am]

often the nightmares were too much. too much that you thought of escaping its horrors by never getting a wink of sleep ever again – until you realized you're a witness and is probably the only chance for the seoul police department to catch that bastard.

buy me sleeping pills? [read 2:08am]

when you peep out of the window, you find an empty spot across the road where jaehyun usually parks the police car. twenty minutes later, you answer the knocking on your door. he used that little "code" he did for you to know it was him. jaehyun was glowering and muttering about how he wasn't some errand boy when he shoved the plastic bottle in your hand yet, you still thanked him nonetheless.

the pills worked like a charm. you managed to stay asleep throughout the whole night, ceasing those episodes of yours where you jolt awake in the middle of dreaming about the sad face slayer's memories.

life continued for you. it became a little bearable, but that didn't mean the horrific murders you see in your dreams are something you can get used to – you don't think you'll ever get used to the sight of him slashing his victims, the blood trickling like a goddamned waterfall.

today the dreams were different. anticlimactic, per se, if you compare it to the violence so utterly present in his memories.

the first you see were black gates, then it shifted to him ordering coffee in a café (amazing what a simple black mask can hide). it switched to him walking on a sidewalk, then he arrives at his destination, an apartment building – it wasn't too rundown, nor was it extravagant.

the serial killer takes the elevator and walks up to a mahogany door –

your room number is a blaring sight.

you couldn't be wrong, not when the 506 with the missing zero in the middle was a sight you saw every day, going and coming home from university.

that was your front door.

he was at your front door.

you jolt awake, ignoring the icky feel of sweat making your clothes cling onto your skin. ice creeps up your spine and freezes you over when you notice with a sinking realization.

those black gates are from the university you attended. that café is your favorite study nook. and that sidewalk is a route you take every day.

you clamp your hands on your mouth as tears roll down your cheeks in rivulets. you pull the comforters up above your head, fear gripping onto you with a vice-like grip as you sob.

it was in the dead of night, moonlight grazing the confines of your room and hours away from dusk. you finally utter those three words in a frightened whisper.

"he's stalking me."

as if having the overgrown bat jaehyun following and annoying you around wasn't enough, you now have another person keeping watch over you. mark lee, unlike jaehyun, may not be as ripped with muscle, but you heard from your cop buddy that the young detective has a few black belts under him. people at the precinct said that if they have to choose one person who can ever come close to the sad face slayer's agility, mark lee's your guy.

"you gotta be shitting me," you mutter, leaning close to jaehyun to whisper like high school girls talking about gossip. "he doesn't look the type!"

jaehyun, in turn, plays along and copies you. "yeah, true. he gets that a lot, i think,"

"guys, i'm literally in the back seat. i can hear everything."

the change hadn't been too drastic. at least mark was there when jaehyun proved to be difficult, pulling him towards the other way when the older male tried waltzing into your class again. "you don't need to sit next to her in her class! are you serious? there's one exit and entrance and we're on the fifth floor. breaking into that classroom will be the end of nakamoto's serial killer career!"

you shoot mark an appreciative smile, one he quickly returned before hauling jaehyun around the hallway. "we'll just be at the canteen, okay? press the 'lil button on your bracelet and we'll be right there!"

shaking your head with a slight smile on your face, you entered the classroom, sat in your usual spot, and did some of your readings from our other class to kill time. you hardly hear the screech of the chair next to you as it was pulled back. not like you cared much for whoever sat down next to you, but you can't deny there's that feeling of missing jaehyun when he used to force his way into the lecture.

"settle down! settle down, people!"

the professor enters and the class begins.

you were meticulous with your note-taking system. it's thorough, leaving no room for information to slip you. having already printed hard copies of the powerpoint presentation and simply jotting down some extra key points mentioned by your professor.

you were just about to raise your hand for a question when you feel something warm graze past your arm. you absentmindedly look down.

the breath is sucked right out of your lungs.

hi, soulmate

there, scribbled with an ominous red crayon on a small piece of paper. it was almost laughable how innocent it looked but when you follow the ring-clad hand, up the black hoodie he's wearing, and finally to his face—

"hi! i'm yuta."

his cheshire smile spikes up your heartbeat. it makes you want to throw up, makes you want to slam your head against the desk. the fight or flight hormone you have is making you restless, eyes pinned on the serial killer sitting next to you, scared that if you avert your gaze, he's going to take out that desert eagle and shoot you until your skull caves in and the bullets in his magazine empties.

"but judging by your reaction, i don't think introductions are needed, hm?" his tone is easy, conversational even and it shoots a freezing jolt of fear right up your spine. it makes you sweat profusely because you don't fucking know what to do, your thoughts in complete and utter disarray.

"just press the little button here and we'll be there before you can even finish shouting 'help!' – hey, i was just kidding! what's with the face?" you swallow, sneakily pressing the button without breaking eye contact with the serial killer sitting in front of you.

"look upfront. now." yuta orders and you nearly snap your neck as you turn your head with lightning speed.

"i thought i was above the soulmate rules, but here we are. my soul is either too tainted or too great to be tied to such trivial things, but oh well, we learn to work with what we have. surprisingly, i learned to like dreaming about how your day went."

you feel something sharp poking at your thigh and when you look down, he has a silver butterfly knife pointed against you. the precision of the angle he held it with doesn't slip your notice. one slice of that knife, no matter how small, and he'll be spilling your guts in this classroom.

a fat tear rolls down your face.

"can you imagine how much my heart broke when i learned you were spying on me? leaking information to that snobby detective? to those incompetent cops? bad baby, that was very bad of you."

"yuta—"

"you think the cops can save you from me?"

his other hand comes in contact with the nape of your neck, holding your head in place as he leaned down to invade your space. he scoffs, and you can picture that terrifying cheshire grin you've seen one too many times in your dreams.

the knife digs through your coat, the tip hardly poking your skin only because he doesn't want to drive it into you yet. how did he even manage to get inside the university? not to mention the weapons he possessed? shouldn't anyone be suspicious when they see a man dressed in all black, clad in jeans and a hoodie, into a university—

he even dressed the part. with that hood drawn up and carrying that one notebook, he looked fairly normal. someone who can easily blend in with the crowd.

you eye your professor, willing him to look at you but your soulmate is having none of that. you squirm when he drives the knife further, at the base of your stomach. with his other hand, he twirls a lock of hair around his finger. "now, now, soulmate. you don't want half the people here to get hurt, do you? unless... that can easily be arranged—"

"no!" you whisper, head jerking to the side to look at him humming in satisfaction. damn. out of all the faces he's seen contorted with fear, yours is his absolute favorite. with those pleading, glassy eyes and parted lips, yuta is tenting in his sweats.

"thought so," he chuckles. "let's get up. we're leaving. that old crook doesn't care if students just up and went in the middle of his lecture."

you don't want to think about how he even knew that because it implied attending the lectures a good amount of times. it's with sinking realization that jaehyun was right. if it weren't for him insisting to sit next to you, nakamoto yuta would've long gotten you in his claws.

you tried gathering your things until he purred into your ear.

"ah, ah, ah. you wouldn't be needing those with where we're going."

the hallways were empty, not that you had much time to scream for help when he had a knife pointed up your back, shoving you into the fire escape stairs. within the tranquil confines of the staircases, the sad face slayer couldn't fucking care less for your personal space.

he disgusts you greatly, he needn't do anything but stand there in front of you but you can already smell the long blood trail from his path. it reeks of rotting flesh and that infuriating god complex he had left a sour aftertaste.

"you know, i genuinely wanted to get to know you," yuta pouts, shaking the hoodie off his head. his hair raven, it's ends kissing the nape of his neck. he looked like he came right out of a shounen manga but the bloodlust in his eyes is something that can never be masked. "i detested the soulmate connection at first, i thought i should just kill you off because you could be my loose end."

his humorless smile is enough to give you nightmares.

"but seeing how sweetly normal and untainted you are made me hold back," the butterfly knife appears before your line of sight, yuta teasingly dragging the tip right down your cheek to trace your tears. "so, why did you snitch, baby?"

you shiver when he noses the side of your neck, inhaling your scent as his other hand hooks underneath your top, freezing fingers making you jolt. when you don't reply, his patience starts to dwindle. then again, he was never a patient man.

"answer me, you bitch. why did you rat me out?" gone is the playful lilt in his voice. the vibrations surge through you as his deep, demanding voice scares you shitless.

you feel, hear, and smell him everywhere. this wasn't like any nightmare. this is real, and you won't magically wake up on your bed, sighing in relief, knowing he isn't there, that it was all just in your head. no, this was very much real and there's absolutely no escape.

"i didn't," your voice cracks. "i didn't mean to—"

"bullshit!" he yells. you wail in pain when he slams you against the wall, head aching as it came in contact with concrete. "because of you betraying me, i nearly fucking got caught, and i never get caught!"

you were full out sobbing at this point, noisy and unsightly as the snot mixes with your tears. your only hope now is he gives you a quick, painless death and that he doesn't carve and mutilate your face like what he always does to his other poor victims. "i'm sorry! please... i'm so sorry. i was scared—"

he coos mockingly, tilting his head to the side as he inched his face closer. "aw, scared? my sweet little soulmate was scared?" he places the blade flat against your neck. as humiliating and degrading as it was, you almost peed on your clothes. "how about now? i'm sure as hell that you're fucking terrified for your useless life right now."

you cringe when his hand abandons the expanse of your stomach, no longer inching higher, finding its purchase on the hair sitting at the crown of your head. he holds you in place like that, forcing your head parallel against the wall, with his whole body pressing up to you that it's nearly suffocating.

"just one quick little slice," he taunts. you hiccuped when you feel the feathery light scrape of the blade moving against your skin. "you won't even have time to scream… but i'm sure we don't want that, do we?"

you forgot how to speak. forgot how to breathe. whenever your mind wanders, you've always thought about how you'll give this killer a piece of your mind, with the amount of fear and sorrow he inflicts upon other people. but you guess realities were a lot more different than expectations. the yuta you dreamed of meeting is in handcuffs, but fate is a fickle little thing.

"do we?" he repeats, slicing ever so slightly at your skin. enough to draw blood in droplets, never a waterfall.

"n – no."

he smiles. "you can make it up to me. do you want to make it up to me?"

the butterfly knife digs even further. a warning. and if you value your useless life, you should be smart enough to know what to answer. drawing a shaky breath, you tried forcing the ends of your lips up to a smile. "of course, yuta."

your voice breaks as your sobbing grips your body whole. the fear consuming your entire being like a parasite consuming the host. you would've shut down altogether if it weren't for the calloused hands gently gripping your face. "i know, i know. i see how regretful you are, baby. don't worry, i won't hurt you. you'll make it up to me."

anyone would be fucking stupid if you believe those words coming from a serial killer.

in your wrecked state, you barely register that he's pushing you down to your knees. skin coming in contact with the freezing linoleum floor as you refuse to look at what his hands are doing. yuta has pocketed his knife. the sound of a belt unbuckling in itself added insult to injury.

you stare blankly at his shoes as he shoves his bottoms down enough for his cock to show. if you squint hard enough, you'll see tiny splatters of blood in the shoelaces. whether or not he feels you're unresponsive, he doesn't show. maybe he doesn't care entirely. he takes one of your hands and used it to wrap around himself. he gasps, sharp, followed by a hiss.

you feel it throbbing and it strengthens the disgust you feel. no way you're going to give him the satisfaction of eye contact when you're already forced to blow this psycho.

"eyes up."

you sniffled, vulnerability present in the tone you speak. "i don't want to. please, don't make me."

if words alone aren't enough for you to follow orders, maybe you'll feel more motivated if held at gunpoint. it's unmistakable, the infamous desert eagle you've only seen in your nightmares. the last thing you ever expected is to be on the side where the bullet comes out.

the barrel is freezing as he digs it into the crown of your head. "soulmate or not. i don't shoot blanks."

your eyes looked up then. glaring as the tears rolled down your face. "you're a monster," you mutter under your breath. where you got the confidence to fight back is unknown.

"i've heard that before, be more creative next time," he holds your hair tight in one grip, shoving you forward, eye-level to his throbbing dick. "now… suck, baby."

"freeze!"

you knew that voice, you've been hearing it for the last two weeks. "jaehyun–!"

yuta cuts you off, shoving the gun into your mouth. the safety clicking off resonating in the tranquil room. it's deafening, and it makes you immobile.

"hands up. step away from the civilian." whether or not mark is nervous as he points the gun at the serial killer, he's doing a damn good job of hiding it.

yuta sighs, exasperated as he throws his head back. his raised arms came down to tuck himself back in his jeans, and the action made jaehyun's calm exterior crack. "i said, hands up, asshole!"

"chill out, motherfucker. i'm just trying to wear my pants." the serial killer hisses, glaring at jaehyun over his shoulder.

"mark, call back up already. what are you doing?" jaehyun mutters, side-eyeing the young detective whose gun shakes as he holds it up. the taller cop takes a step forward, eyes never leaving the notorious killer as he addresses you curtly. "(name), come here."

just as you plant your palms to the ground to push yourself up, one of yuta's hands shoves you down quick as lightning. "no. she stays here, with me."

jaehyun scowls, takes another step forward. "and what makes you think i'm going to let that happen?"

"i don't think. i know."

there's a constant ring in your ear as the gunshot temporarily renders you deaf. you've shut your eyes in utter fright, hands shooting up to cover your ears but it was too late. you refuse to open your eyes, you didn't want to see a dead body lying before you, even if it belonged to a heartless serial killer.

but when your eyes fluttered open, it's not yuta bleeding out on the ground.

"no, this can't be – jaehyun!"

it was a bullet straight to the head, no one could've survived a shot like that. his eyes are empty as he stares at you, unblinking, stoic. the color is yet to drown away from his milky complexion. but you can't even manipulate yourself into thinking that jaehyun's still alive. not when his eyes are empty, not when he just looks so lifeless.

it couldn't have been yuta who pulled the trigger.

his weapons were on the ground and the shot rang too fast. the sad face slayer couldn't have crouched down for his gun to shoot the cop, it would've taken too much time. and among the three men, there's only another person holding a weapon, and that was –

"great shot, mark."

the detective smiles, but with the blood splattered on his face, it looked cold. "told ya i've been practicing."

yuta hauls you up by the arms, addicted to how frail your body feels as it collapses against him. he's finally got his little soulmate in his arms. and he will never, ever let you go.

the cops lost – you've lost.

yuta, with a sense of victory coursing through his veins, took the liberty of trailing little pecks down your neck as he mutters, "mine, mine, mine!" but you couldn't care less about his display of mocked affection. not when the other person meant to protect you, turned out to be everything you think he wasn't.

mark must've felt the gravity of your stare as he crouches before jaehyun's bleeding body. grabbing the fallen cop's gun, he took it upon himself to empty the magazine. the lopsided grin he sends you broke your resolve more than yuta ever could.

"i'm sorry. it's nothing personal."

jenoluck (c) all rights reserved

[shirophantomvox]

Analyzing Killua Zoldyck's Character

Illumi Analysis| Hisoka Analysis| Chrollo Anaysis|

What’s up y’all?! I’ve had at least 2 cups of coffee this morning and I am ready to write my butt off! This post will be about Killua Zoldyck, my second favorite character and you will know why by the end. If you’d like me to write about your favorite character, Be sure to send me a message and I will get on it ASAP.

Here we go!

I saw Killua for the first time on Tumblr. Someone created various icons for several anime characters and edited them. They were all aesthetically pleasing but for some reason, his picture stood out. Now that I look harder, it is because he was holding a Pepsi can instead of the off-brand one they drew for him in the cartoon. I noticed everyone on TikTok and Twitter had the very same icon as their profile picture (usually those that like to troll and say racist things to others). Once I started watching Hunter x Hunter, I realized the character immediately. Thank you for your edits!

Killua Zoldyck is the youngest child in the family and is the only child that developed a mind for his own.

Instead of taking the pleasure of killing, he runs/avoids and achieves this by becoming friends with Gon. It’s interesting to think that no one in the Zoldyck family wants to kill for fun except for Illumi.

I remember Zeno telling Chrollo: “Do you think I enjoy killing?”.

This makes me think that the family’s job is to destroy enemies that are a threat to society. Are the Zoldyck’s taking on the role of cops or an extension of such? If that statement is true why does Illumi take pleasure in abusing his power when his own grandfather only does it when criminals are involved? Granted, Silva and Zeno’s reasoning for brutally fighting criminals isn’t legal, and (to me) are considered to be vigilantes, at least they don’t go around doing the horrible things like how Illumi and Hisoka do.

This very reason why Killua ran away from home. He decided to rebel against his mother and implied: “Fuck you. I’m going to do what I want.” Killua and his siblings are victims of child abuse and show that they deal with that abuse in different ways. Killua masks his abilities in public and tries to keep them under control, Kalluto seems to be very quiet and obedient, Milluki is just as abusive as Illumi, and we already know about Illumi. Milluki is physically abusive; this can be seen when he is whipping Killua for running away and threatens to destroy Gon, Kurapika, and Leorio while Illumi plays mind games on Killua and uses his Nen to do the trick.

Killua’s character is very special and in a way takes the lead as the main character instead of Gon. I don’t know if that was intentional or not. Killua is a 12-year-old boy who leaves home to escape his abusive home and see the world for his own. During phase 1 of Hunter’s Exam, he instantly clicks with Gon; probably because he’s the only 12-year-old there. They constantly challenge each other to see who will win and who will buy dinner or some other reward. Because of his abusive home, Killua often masks his feelings. This is noticeable every time Gon talks about him being his best friend and he always reacts as if he’s embarrassed by it.

Gon is his shield from going bat-shit crazy like his family. They both have faced opponents (like Hisoka and others) where Killua could have unleashed his assassin abilities but didn’t. Yes, some of the opponents are stronger than him, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.

Killua is the best friend Gon could ever have. Since he knows about aura and any supernatural abilities, this is why he stops Gon and even insults him for pushing himself too far. Killua stopped Gon from using too much aura in the past especially once Kite’s arm was cut off by Pitou. Because Killua wasn’t there to stop him when fighting Pitou, this resulted in Gon’s downfall. Did Killua believe it was his fault that Gon almost died? He isn’t responsible for Gon’s actions but he focused so much on running away from his “demons” and masking his temper by maintaining his friendship that he wasn’t paying attention to Gon’s noticeable and developing temper.

Killua Zoldyck is a child that suffered from abuse and to escape that reality, he runs away, takes Hunter’s Exam only to match with his brother, chooses defeat, and then kills an opponent, not of his own free will.

But wait, there’s more.

After being rescued from his prison of a home, he goes to Heaven’s Arena, met Zushi and his teacher, develop Nen, follows the Phantom Troupe around and somehow managed to survive that, meet Bisky, join a game to get closer to Ging, witnesses Gon disappearing, trying to form a relationship with Alluka, and then tries to heal Gon with a quickness.

Whew, chile!

At the beginning of the show, it appeared as if Killua was taking on too much and only did so to keep his mind off what he escaped from.

One thing to point out is Killua’s motivation to heal Gon no matter what. It is implied that he doesn’t care what will happen to him or anyone else as long as Gon can live again.

Wait.

Isn’t that along the lines of what Gon said about getting revenge for Kite? He didn’t care about what happened to him? Hmmmm. I guess they’re very similar after all!

Killua and Gon are BFFs and will do anything for each other. Friendships in real life should be this way; let’s follow his fictional example.

Face

Killua’s face is the typical shape for someone his age. His eyes are wide, as blue as the morning sky, and honestly, I wish he’d smile more. Even though he is 12 years old, he still has a babyface.

Hair

Killua’s hair color is very similar to Princess Allura’s and Lotor’s. According to verywellmind.com, the color white represents innocence and purity. Ironically, Lotor and Killua are the opposite of that while Allura has maintained her innocence. Killua’s unique hair color and hairstyle are amazing! I love how it stays in shape while he is fighting or running.

Clothes

Regarding clothes, he is JUST like his brother. Again, Illumi irks me, but they both have a great taste in fashion. Through the show, Killua changes his clothes more than Gon, which is funny. I guess if Gon changed his clothes too much it would take away from his character. Killua’s default style contains a sleeveless white shirt with a purple one underneath, basketball shorts, and gym shoes. Just look at these outfit changes! This is why Killua is my 2nd favorite character in this show.

Behavior

As stated before, Killua cares more about others. This is ironic because the Zoldyck family only cares about themselves or their family while Killua feels the complete opposite. It’s almost as if he trusts strangers more than his own family. A common phrase: “She/He turned to the streets” that I’ve heard in my hometown can be applied here. Killua probably hates his family and turned to strangers to find love and comfort since they neglected that. He is also the only one that tries to develop a relationship with Alluka. At first, I thought “Wow he’s only developing a relationship with her to heal Gon�� but then I realized it was bigger than that. Alluka has been separated from her family because of her dangerous abilities. She will demand something and if that person doesn’t fulfill her demands, they will suffer horribly. Killua learns that Alluka has a healing ability and while Illumi complains that Killua was hiding rules from him, he never took the chance to talk to him about it and continued to threaten Alluka. The family “banished” her to a confined room for who knows how long because, apparently, she had been possessed by a demon from the Dark Continent and they do not know when it happened. Despite knowing that Killua could parish with the rest, he still develops a relationship with her. He is the true example of excepting someone for who they are. As far as I’m concerned, running away was the best decision he made. It saved his life and in return, he’s going to save another. I do find it ironic that something considered to be so dark has the power to bring something back to life when usually it’s something bright like a light...interesting. You all know what I’m saying. Most television shows only portray angles to heal others while demons only seek to destroy. The Zoldyck family is wrong for pushing Alluka away. How could you do that to your own kid? Shit, you should be blaming yourself for not watching her and allowing the demon to posses her.

In conclusion, Killua is my second favorite character. He is bold, loves his friends, and isn’t afraid (anymore) to step up to people he may not win against. His character has blossomed from a young boy afraid to step up to his brother to a boy who isn’t afraid to do so. He has learned about Nen and has gone through many trials and tribulations just to say he is much stronger than before. What characters would you like to hear about next? Send me a DM!

Fin.

[emachinescat]

The Day that Camelot Forgot

A Merlin Fan-Fiction

by @emachinescat ​

@febuwhump​ day 24 - memory loss

Summary: A vengeful Morgana casts a powerful curse on Camelot on the day Merlin is named Court Sorcerer, making everyone in the citadel forget that Merlin – and his impact on their lives – exists. She can only maintain the spell for one day, but twenty-four hours is more than enough time for the warlock to get himself into some serious trouble.

Characters: Merlin, Arthur, the knights, Gaius, Morgana is mentioned

Words: 6,444

TW: anxiety attacks, burning at the stake, main character near-death

Note: This story is a bit late, as it was meant to be published on day 24 of Febuwhump, but I got sick, and missed a few days.  I did post the first half of it on Tumblr on the 24th, but this is the finished product. I am seriously considering writing a sequel, because there are definitely a lot of ramifications that I gloss over here, a lot of angsty, whumpy stuff that I could (and most likely will) expand upon in another story. But I'll let you read the story for yourself, and see if you're interested in a sequel! 

Keep reading here, or on AO3!

If you enjoy, please consider liking, commenting, and re-blogging, and you can follow me for more content like this! :)

Merlin woke up to a broom head hitting him in the face, which was not how he expected his first day as Court Sorcerer to start.

An indignant squawk escaped him as he rolled off of his bed in an effort to escape the assault. He already had an insult for Arthur on his lips when his bleary eyes cleared and he realized that it had not been the king at all who had woken him in such a manner. It was Gaius, and he was poised to strike again.

"Gaius!" Merlin stammered, scrambling to his feet and dodging another blow from the broom. "What the hell are you doing that for?"

Gaius didn't answer. Instead, looking as mean and ornery as Merlin had ever seen him, the old physician demanded, "How did you get in here?"

Merlin cocked his head to one side, completely nonplussed. "I… live here? I remember turning Arthur's offer for new chambers down so I could stay and care for you – OW!"

Gaius had hit him again. "Who are you?" he all but growled.

Merlin blinked. "Gaius, you know me," he insisted, his heart hammering out his uncertainty at the pulse point in his neck. Something was wrong; Gaius might be cantankerous for his old age, and he might have enjoyed the odd joke at Merlin's expense, but never something like this.

Merlin tried again. "Gaius, it's me… Merlin." When Gaius only glared at him distrustfully from beneath two gnarled eyebrows, he added hopefully, "You know… Hunith's son?"

To his relief, recognition lit in his mentor's eyes at the mention of Merlin's mother, but distrust immediately replaced it. "I have known Hunith all of her life," Gaius said, voice low and measured, broom still held at the ready. "But she has no son."

Real fear exploded in Merlin's chest – fear for Gaius, not for himself. There was only so much Gaius could do with a broom, but if he was forgetting Merlin so suddenly and so completely…

"Ah, I'm sorry," Merlin said as calmly as possible, raising his hands in front of him to show he meant no harm. "My mistake. I'll … get out of your hair."

He darted out of his room, across the physician's main chamber, and out the door, leaving a confused and agitated Gaius in his wake. Merlin prayed that the old physician wouldn't get himself into too much trouble while he was gone, and then darted for Arthur's chambers.

***

He ran into Gwaine on the way – literally, he ran headfirst into the knight, so distracted by Gaius's sudden and dramatic loss of memory. At first he wasn't sure whose ridiculously muscular torso he'd bumped into, and despite his worry, he couldn't help but grin when he saw the bearded face glaring down at him in surprise.

Wait…

Glaring?

Merlin stumbled back.

"Watch where you're going, friend," Gwaine said in response. The way he spoke sent a wave of wrongness down Merlin's spine. He had called Merlin friend, but it was a vague, generalized term. When Gwaine normally called Merlin his friend, the word was saturated with warmth and shone with the light of a dozen charming grins. Now, it meant nothing. And when Merlin looked up into his friend's dark eyes, there was no recognition there. No smile that Merlin had come to understand as reserved especially for the knight's closest friends. Gwaine's eyes landed on him, flashed in brief annoyance, and then skirted off of him almost nearly as quickly.

"Gwaine?" Merlin asked, irritated at the uncertainty in his own voice.

Gwaine, who had already started sauntering away, turned back with a puzzled expression. For just a moment, Merlin was sure that kind, mischievous face was going to open up in an eyes-to-mouth smile like it always did upon seeing him, but then the brow furrowed, and Gwaine asked, "Do I know you?"

Merlin opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He stood there, gaping like a fool, his whole body coiled as if ready to spring into action, limbs numb, fingers trembling, fear wrapping its constricting tendrils around his chest.

Gwaine gave Merlin an odd look, then shrugged. "Maybe we drank together once."

Merlin nodded weakly, remembering not just once, but many times he and the man before him had gone to the tavern together, often with the rest of the knights, sometimes even the king, in tow. He thought of laughter, and promises of friendship and loyalty, and tavern songs and Gwaine standing on top of a table doing a clumsy jig. He thought of the first time they'd gone to the tavern after learning of Merlin's magic, how Gwaine had asked him a million questions that had gotten more idiotic with every drink. ("No, Gwaine, I have never tried to transplant my nose into the center of a rose to see if flowers can smell themselves.")

By the time he had resurfaced from the barrage of memories that Gwaine had forgotten and that Merlin now clung to with a new ferocity, the knight had gone.

Feeling distinctly sick, Merlin resumed his trek to Arthur's chambers, noticing with fresh terror that every person he passed either didn't acknowledge him at all, or gave him a second, bewildered glance like they'd never seen him before, like he had no right being where he was – being in his home.

***

Arthur didn't remember him, either.

Merlin was so near panic when he got to the king and queen's chambers that he almost forgot to knock. Knocking was never something Merlin had been particularly adept at remembering to do, especially when it came to his duties to Arthur, but since the king had married Gwen, Merlin had made sure to amend his habits. There were some things that Merlin absolutely did not want to walk in on, and besides, he respected Gwen too much to risk barging in on her unannounced.

It was Arthur who answered the door, and Merlin was so flustered that he didn't wait for an invitation to enter (when did he ever, though?), and he squeezed his way into the room past the king. Gwen was nowhere to be seen.

"Thank the gods you're here, Arthur," Merlin huffed as he bustled in. "Something very weird is going on. Gaius and Gwaine are acting like they don't know me, like they've never seen me in their lives!"

He turned around to face his friend. To his surprise, Arthur's hand was on the hilt of his sword at his hip, and suspicion rolled off of him in waves. "Who the hell are you?" he asked flatly, blue eyes flashing with an intensity reserved for those who wished to do him, his kingdom, or his loved ones harm.

Merlin had been expecting a joke like this. Arthur was never one to pass up an opportunity to tease his former servant, soon-to-be Court Sorcerer. The dry retort, "Very funny, Sire," died before it could escape his mouth, though, because when he looked at his king, his best friend, he saw no glimmer of recognition. No familiarity. No kindness or warmth or irritated indulgence. Arthur's face was that of a man who had just had a complete stranger barge into his room and started talking to him like they were old acquaintances – which, Merlin was beginning to realize, was exactly what had happened from the king's point of view.

Merlin swallowed heavily and entreated, "Arthur … King Arthur. Please tell me that you know me." Desperation clawed at his throat and infected his next plea. "Please."

Arthur didn't speak, didn't relax his grip on his sword hilt, but he didn't draw the weapon either, which Merlin thought had to be a good sign. Finally, after several long, tense moments, Arthur responded in a slow, cautious tone, "I'm sorry. I have never seen you before in my life. What business do you have with me?"

Merlin's world, everything he knew and understood and loved, crumbled around him in that moment. He staggered back, managed to stay upright by pure strength of will alone. What the hell was going on? The familiar sting of tears pressed against the back of his eyes, and he only managed to keep himself from crying by sheer stubbornness. He took a deep, steadying breath, made a conscious effort to look as non-threatening as possible, and tried very hard not to panic.

"Okay," he said, and his voice shook, so he tried again. "Okay." This time, his voice was steadier. Arthur's glare pounded into him from across the room, and knew that the king's already thin patience was running out. "Something very wrong is happening in Camelot," the sorcerer began.

Arthur interrupted him. "I agree," he said pedantically. "There's a strange man in my chambers."

"I'm not – I am, or I was, your servant."

"My servant's name is George."

Merlin couldn't help it. He groaned. "George? The one who makes jokes about brass? He's your servant in this hellish version of Camelot?"

Arthur sent Merlin a look that was almost pitying. "You are obviously very confused," he said in a surprisingly gentle tone. "But I am king of Camelot, and you have no right to be in my personal chambers. Go now, and I will think nothing more of this intrusion. If you do not, then I will have to treat you as a threat, and call the guards."

Merlin shook his head, unwilling to let this go. In the span of a single morning, his entire reality, the world he and Arthur had worked so hard to build and the future that they were about to step into, his new position as Court Sorcerer, his friendship with Arthur, everything, had been ripped away from him. He had to figure out what could have caused this to happen. He didn't have to think long – who was out there with enough power to make what seemed like the entire citadel forget he existed? Who was angry and envious and vindictive enough to take away everyone he loved on the very day that the culmination of his and Arthur's dreams were finally taking shape?

Even as Arthur stepped forward, hand tightening on the hilt of his sword, preparing to draw it, Merlin blurted, "It has to be Morgana!"

All the color drained out of Arthur's face in an instant. He stood there, frozen, a horrible expression of pain manifesting in his eyes. "How dare you speak of my sister," the king growled, and Merlin actually backed up a few steps, bumping into the end table that he'd polished more times than he could count.

"I know she's a difficult subject to talk about," Merlin managed, striving to keep his voice steady as the grief in Arthur's eyes turned to fury. "But it's the only explanation. Morgana must have cast a curse on the citadel – you have to let me go find her, please, and I can stop this, and the world can go back to normal."

Arthur drew his sword now, and Merlin had no more room to retreat. He stood before his king, his closest friend, his muscles aching from the tension gripping his body, his heart pumping so fast and hard he could feel the flutter in his chest. "Arthur, please–"

"I am your king!" the man who had Arthur's face but spoke like his father spat. "You will address me as such! And how dare you insinuate that the Lady Morgana was a sorceress! What vile game are you playing?"

Merlin's head spun; he had no idea what was going on, how Arthur was currently seeing the world, but he did know for certain now that Morgana was behind it. The reverence and love with which the king said his half-sister's name could only come from a delusion the sorceress in question had placed there. Then something Arthur had said hit home. "What do you mean 'was'?"

The expression on the king's face was faintly nauseated, as if he were being forced to remember something that he had hidden away deep inside, or as if he were actively fighting the urge to cut Merlin down on the spot. Either scenario felt entirely wrong and filled Merlin with a sense of dread. "My sister is dead," Arthur said flatly. "She who would have been queen – should have been queen." Oh, yes, Morgana was definitely behind this, Merlin thought wryly. It was bad enough she had these sick delusions in the first place, but to force everyone in Camelot to play a part in them was equally terrifying and sad. "Struck down by a sorcerer in cold blood."

Merlin flinched at the way Arthur spat the word sorcerer. It had been years since he had heard the title said with such hatred and derision, and never had he heard this level of malevolence for magic-users come from Arthur's mouth. After everything they had been through together, after the joy of watching their prophesied destiny unfold before his very eyes, after hearing Arthur accept his magic and plan to officially declare him Court Sorcerer, hearing the title that Arthur had so often spoken of with pride slide out of that same mouth slicked with hatred hurt. But Merlin reminded himself of the truth – this wasn't Arthur, not really; somehow he was being fed false memories – and he squared his shoulders and looked his king right in the eyes.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he said solemnly. Arthur's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Merlin hoped it was a good sign. "But Arthur – your highness – I need you to listen to me, please. I can explain everything. I can try, at least. But your memories aren't what you think they are. Morgana is alive and… very well, considering the power of this enchantment."

"My sister was murdered by magic, and yet you still insist that she is the evil enchantress!" Arthur fumed, and Merlin felt like he was talking to a stone wall, or even more deaf and unyielding, Uther Pendragon. He very seriously considered knocking Arthur out with magic and tucking him away safely in a wardrobe somewhere while he himself went to deal with the sorceress who had caused all this trouble. But Merlin could sense Arthur, the real Arthur, somewhere beneath the surface of those familiar-but-foreign eyes, and he was sure he could break the spell without having to go to the source. Merlin was Arthur's dearest friend, the king had said this himself (and yes, it still counted even if Arthur had been incredibly drunk after a night in the tavern with Gwaine when he said it). And Merlin knew Arthur better than anyone else, save the queen.

I can reach him, he reassured himself. Arthur is still in there, somewhere. I just have to find him. And once he's back to himself, I can deal with Morgana.

"Please, sire," Merlin said, putting every bit of sincerity he could muster into his words. "Just… let me tell you my side of the story. Let me remind you of who I am, and who you truly are. I am your friend, Arthur, and you have said yourself that I am the most stupidly loyal man you have ever had the displeasure to meet." A desperate chuckle lilted his last few words.

"You have two minutes."

"Um, there's a lot to cover, actually," Merlin responded. "Can I have a bit longer, because I don't think–"

"One and half minutes."

"Okay, okay, I'll stick to the basics!" And so Merlin gave Arthur the quickest and most condensed version of their friendship and history he could cobble together in less time than it usually took to exchange greetings with his king in the morning.

He ended with, "And so you see, it makes sense that Morgana would want to sabotage this occasion, because it marks the beginning of a new era that she desperately wants to be a part of but is too bitter and proud to humble herself and change for. She wants to tear us apart, wants you to do something that you'll later regret. But I know you're stronger than this, Arthur. I know that you remember me, deep down. The life you're living isn't yours. Your memories aren't yours. They belong to Morgana, but your mind does not." A strange, almost trance-like mask had descended over Arthur's face while Merlin spoke, and hope started budding in the warlock's chest – he was so close to breaking through, he could feel it.

"So," Merlin prompted, when Arthur did not immediately respond. "Do you remember? Have you realized the truth, sire?"

Slowly, Arthur nodded, and the dazed quality to his eyes cleared up in an instant. "Yes," he murmured. Merlin allowed his eyes to close momentarily in relief; his body sagged against the table at his back. Thank the gods, the nightmare was over. Now all that was left was to find Morgana and make sure nothing like this ever happened again.

But Arthur wasn't finished speaking, and the hardness had steeled his gaze once more, his lips set in a straight line and his jaw clenched and held high. "I have realized that I was a fool to think that you were a harmless vagrant with delusions of grandeur who wandered into the wrong part of the castle. I should never have opened the door for you."

"Arthur–"

"I am your KING!" Merlin snapped his mouth shut, tears once again prickling at the corner of his eyes. The injustice of the situation weighed as heavily on him as his destiny once had. "You are a sorcerer, an enemy of Camelot, here in an attempt to take down Camelot from the inside. But your spells and tricks and poisoned words will not work on me."

"But–"

"Guards!"

"You don't understand, I–"

"Guards!"

***

Elyan and Percival were the knights who dragged Merlin to the dungeons and threw him roughly into a cell. Then Percival clasped his wrists in shackles, which were chained to the floor. The door slammed shut with a metallic clang.

"Percival – Elyan!" Merlin called out as the knights that had only a week ago pledged their acceptance and loyalty to him as the soon-to-be Court Sorcerer and chief advisor to the king. "Please, you know me!"

"You'll die for your treachery, sorcerer," Elyan spat.

The left, and Merlin sank to the cold, damp stone floor, chains clinking. He drew his knees up to his chest, rested his aching head on them, and did his best to remember how to breathe.

***

Merlin wasn't sure how long he had been in the dungeon, but it had to have been a couple of hours at least. He hadn't eaten breakfast because the old man who usually prepared it for him had instead attacked him with a broom. Now, he was certain he had missed lunch too. His stomach growled at him in protest, but the hunger pangs meant nothing to Merlin. Even if the guards dropped off a meal fit for a king, he wouldn't be able to eat a bite. Everything had gone so wrong.

And now Merlin was at a loss of what to do. He could escape the dungeons easily, he knew, and go searching for Morgana. But there were so many uncertainties, a litany of what ifs that railed against him whenever he thought about breaking out of his chains and sending the cell door crashing into the guards holding a silent but hostile vigil on the other side. If indeed he could find Morgana and discover a way to reverse the curse, then it would, of course, be an easy fix. Merlin's failure to connect with Arthur and break the spell himself had planted a seed of self-doubt deeply within the soil of his mind, however, and now what he had been so sure of before he'd tried to fix things himself – that he would be able to hunt down Morgana and stop this madness with magic – seemed like a distant, unrealistic goal.

And if he did fail? If he could not find Morgana, or if she had managed to employ a magic far more powerful or strange than he currently knew how to counter? If he was unable to break the curse? Then Arthur would go on believing Merlin was the enemy, and Merlin would have forfeited any chance of reaching his friend by flouting the king's edict, attacking the guards, and breaking out of the castle.

Merlin had only been able to get through to Arthur in his other life, his real life, by showing the king over a period of years that magic was not something to be inherently feared, not something evil in and of itself. He had had to show the king through his own life and actions the truth about magic, so that when Arthur had at last learned of his secret, it was from Merlin's own lips and with nearly a decade of loyalty and friendship to back up Merlin's assurances that he had only ever used his gifts to protect Arthur and Camelot. Sure, Arthur had been angry at first, and hurt that Merlin hadn't trusted him, but he had come to an acceptance of Merlin's magic much more quickly than the warlock had imagined. King and servant had grown even closer in the wake of the truth, and soon after, Arthur had started drafting plans for making magic legal and had proposed the idea of Melin's being officially named Court Sorcerer.

But if Merlin was forced to start from scratch, to rebuild his relationship with the king – a possibility that pained him deeply but that he was more than willing to do, if it was the only way to get Arthur back and get their destiny on track – then it would not be wise to start that relationship off with a jailbreak. Then again, he argued against himself, neither was blurting out his secret to an Arthur who had already shown great disdain for magic and who held no memory of or loyalty toward Merlin at all. At this rate, maybe it was better to just take the risk and escape, because how in the name of the Triple Goddess was he supposed to convince Arthur of his loyalty if the king most likely planned to execute him for treason?

He almost made his escape then, but something stopped him. At first, he couldn't identity exactly what it was, just a feeling, an uncomfortable squirming in his gut that could have been the voice of destiny, or instinct, or, quite possibly, hunger. But either way, it bothered him enough that he held off on his plans to break out and examined the feeling more closely. Eventually, he realized – if he left Arthur now, especially in the state he was in, alone and unprotected and with Morgana out there somewhere with her eyes feasting hungrily on the citadel she so earnestly believed should be hers, he could be putting the king in more danger. If Merlin wasn't able to find Morgana in time, and she used his absence to ease her way into the citadel and onto the throne, which Arthur would readily give up to her in his current state.. With him under her influence, she could do whatever she wanted to him – kill him, imprison him, break his mind forever… and Merlin wouldn't be there to stop her.

With this thought, he decided to wait it out, and to see how events would unfold. He would not use his magic to defy Arthur or make his escape unless absolutely necessary. After all, he tried to assure himself, there was the very real possibility that Morgana would not be able to hold this powerful of a spell for long. She might be a priestess of the Old Religion, but even she had her limits. Perhaps her plan was to lure Merlin out to find her and then to use his absence to take Camelot for herself, but it was entirely possible that she only had a limited window of time to achieve her goal and that she was counting on Merlin to act on his emotions and search her out immediately.

Or maybe her plan was just to simply wreak havoc in Merlin's life for as long as she could. Either way, Merlin reasoned, her hold over the entirety of Camelot could not last forever. Sooner or later, her grip would weaken and Arthur and the rest of the citadel would wrest their way out of her control.

Merlin just had to survive until then.

***

He was unsure of how much time had passed when they came for him again. No one had brought him food, or water, and no one had come to visit him during his imprisonment, either. Merlin thought it was highly likely that Arthur had ordered any curious parties to stay away; the king had made it abundantly clear that he considered Merlin a dangerous threat. The fact that he had not been given even a hunk of stale bread or a flagon of water sent warning bells off in Merlin's mind – if this strange Arthur was anything like Uther had been, then he knew that he would be executed swiftly and without trial, and there was no need to feed a dead man.

Gwaine and Leon came to collect him. Leon unlocked the shackles and shoved him at Gwaine, who spat at his feet. "And to think I was kind to you this morning," he growled, and Merlin fought the urge to remind him that he hadn't exactly been kind, more indifferent. Gwaine roughly spun Merlin around, wrenched his hands behind his back so hard that pain sliced through his shoulder blades. Merlin felt his hands being bound tightly, expertly behind his back with course, thick rope. He reached into himself and felt his magic, alive, pulsing, ready to rise to his defense, and he took solace in it, but kept it at bay.

Not yet, he told himself.

But he was getting scared, and he was running out of options.

***

They shoved him to his knees before Arthur, who sat unyielding and terrible on his throne, a mirror image of his father. Merlin realized with a start that there was only one throne.

"Where's Gwen?" he asked. Now that he thought about it, the servant-turned-queen hadn't come up when Merlin had told his story to Arthur earlier, and the king had made no mention of his wife. In fact, he recalled with a start, none of Gwen's more domestic touches had been in Arthur's chamber.

Arthur stood, striding forward and looming over his prisoner. "You should have gagged him," he groused. "He doesn't know how to shut up." For a split second, Merlin thought that maybe the real Arthur was beginning to resurface – that was exactly something that he would say! Then he crossed his arms over his chest and asked irritably, "Who is Gwen? Your accomplice?"

"No, no," Merlin quickly assured him, not wanting to cause any trouble for Gwen, wherever she was. It was odd, he thought: Most elements of Camelot had stayed the same in Morgana's living nightmare, like the knights – even the non-noble ones, even Elyan, Gwen's brother, had remained as they were. But Arthur, in this version of reality, had never married Gwen. It made sense if he thought about it, though. Gwen had occupied the role that Morgana had believed was hers, had, in the witch's eyes, betrayed her trust and left her for the man that represented everything Morgana hated. Of course, Gwen wouldn't have her happy ending, her marriage to Arthur, with Morgana in charge. She was being punished as well. Merlin wondered if Gwen had been left with her memories of the real world like he had been, or if she was somewhere in Camelot, living and thinking as a maid when she really was a queen.

To Merlin's relief, Arthur didn't pursue the line of questioning any further. "I have talked this matter over with my council and advisors," he said in a measured voice. A burst of bitterness howled inside of Merlin – he had been named Arthur's chief advisor! He had been a part of the original council, the Knights of the Round Table, when Arthur had first brought them together! And now this illusion of Morgana's had stolen that away from him, too.

Not yet, he reminded his magic, as it raged and boiled and frothed inside of him. Be patient.

He might have been able to control his magic, but he could not keep his sarcasm completely in check: "And I am sure that in your discussion with the council, you all came to a completely fair and totally unbiased decision based on facts and not the unfounded prejudices of your father's rule."

He didn't know what he had been expecting, but it certainly was not Arthur's face flushing an angry red, nor the back of his hand smashing full-force into Merlin's cheek, snapping his head to the side violently. He felt one of the king's rings split the skin on his cheekbone, and thought for a breathless moment that the entire left side of his face had caved in.

He couldn't keep back the lone tear that crawled from the corner of his eye. It didn't come from pain or even shock – but a sense of gut-wrenching betrayal that he could not reason his way out of, even knowing that Arthur was not himself. Even in the state that Arthur was in, even knowing that the king would make plans to execute him, Merlin never anticipated Arthur himself becoming physically violent with him. Somehow, Arthur's hitting him was so much more of a betrayal than a death sentence.

Just. Wait. He didn't know how much longer he would be able to keep his magic from rising to his defense.

"You will learn your place, sorcerer," Arthur hissed. "When you burn. Take him; we light the pyre at first dawn."

***

Fear screamed through Merlin's body like a whirlwind, and coherent thought fled in the wake of his worst nightmares manifesting before him. He had been sure that Arthur would have chosen hanging or even the chopping block, but a pyre –

Merlin had grown up terrified of fires, horrified at the possibility of dying a brutal, torturous death, swallowed and ravaged by flames, all because he was born with magic. Because of who he was.

No one had been burnt at the stake in years in Camelot. Certainly not after Arthur became king. It was a barbaric practice, and even the worst war criminals and traitors were given a swift, merciful death. He had assumed that Arthur would continue that tradition.

But no, when he was dragged out into the courtyard – the sky was dark, but the air chilly and damp, heralding the approaching dawn – a great pyre had been constructed, and the rest of the knights – his friends – had gathered around, their faces lit eerily by the flickering flames of the torches they held at the ready. At least Gaius wasn't there.

You're not actually going to die, Merlin tried to remind himself, dragging desperately for air through his nose, his mouth blocked by his neckerchief that they'd dragged over his mouth in a bid to keep him from talking, or screaming, or just out of pure spite, Merlin didn't know. You can escape. You will escape, and find Morgana, and stop this. You can't delay any longer.

He drew himself up as tall as he could between Leon and Gwaine, calling his magic to his aid and –

He wasn't sure what happened, or how his friends-turned-enemies had guessed that he was about to try something – maybe he had given himself away somehow, maybe they had noticed the change in his stance or a shift in his energy, or maybe Morgana was interfering even now, ensuring that he would not escape his fate so easily. Whatever the reason, just as Merlin drew upon his magic, something blunt – a sword hilt? – crashed into the back of his skull, and everything was pain.

Agony ripped through his head, his neck, and crackled down his spine. Any grip Merlin had on his magic slipped through his fingers, and he fell forward, held semi-upright only by the knights escorting him to his death. He didn't lose consciousness, but he did lose all sense of control over his body and his magic, and the only thing that existed was pain. His stomach churned in time with the throbbing of his head, and his eyes were driven shut instinctively by the light of the torches before him.

The next few minutes passed in a state of distanced terror and pain. Merlin was acutely aware of the heaviness and agony of his head and the nausea in his gut. He also felt every spike of fear, every bit of helplessness, every scream that wanted to rise up from the most primal part of his being. And yet, at the same time, it was as if it was happening to someone else, and he could do nothing about it. Everything hurt and he was going to die and Arthur was going to burn him alive, his friends were going to light the pyre, and he would die in agony, and not even his magic could stop it, because he couldn't feel it, couldn't find it – he was magic itself, and yet it eluded his grasp, all that existed was pain and confusion and his head swam –

He felt, as if from a great distance, himself be hoisted onto the pyre. He felt the rough wood of the stake rub blisters into his tied hands as he was shoved against it, head lolling uselessly as if it belonged to someone else. He felt rope wrap around his torso, his legs, securing him to the pyre, and he tried to lift his head, which rested on his chest, tried to find his magic, but all he uncovered was fear and despair and pain.

He vaguely heard Arthur speaking from somewhere close by – or maybe it was from miles away. He did not understand the words but knew them to be a list of the supposed crimes Merlin had committed – being born with magic the chief of those. And then, far too soon, Arthur stopped talking, and Merlin sensed through his partially closed eyes the knights approaching with their torches, and he felt the warmth of the fire as those torches were lowered to the wood.

Merlin forced his eyes open, thrust his head up and looked at his friends, then beyond them, at Arthur. He maintained eye contact with his king, his brother, his best friend, even as the knights lit the pyre and he felt the heat begin to spread. Merlin didn't know if Arthur could hear him from this distance, if his words would be loud enough, strong enough, or if they would be caught up and consumed in the rising flames. It took every ounce of strength and concentration to push past the pain and call out, as loudly as he could, "I forgive you, Arthur."

And then, as the flames began licking at his feet, his boots, his clothes, something popped. I was as if the world itself had been out of joint, like a dislocated shoulder, and in that moment, the painful but satisfying second of release, it had snapped back into place. The air shifted, the world stopped spinning for the briefest of moments, and then, it clicked back into its rightful place.

The spell had been broken; Merlin could feel it in every fiber of his being – his magic cried out in relief, and it was only then that he realized that it hadn't been his head injury that had prevented him from fighting back, from escaping – it had been a last, desperate attempt by Morgana to get her revenge, to hide his magic away from him just long enough for him to die.

But she had failed. Her power, her hold and control, had finally given out on her, and Merlin felt his magic bubble back to the surface, and despite the pain and the fear, he summoned rain from a cloudless sky as the sun continued its golden ascent and put out the flames.

Around him, he heard yells, and cries, and his name was shouted from all directions, from the mouths of those he loved and trusted and who had very nearly killed him. But his head pounded, and he was so weak, and the fire was out. He slumped in his bonds, eyes fluttering shut, head dropping to his chest.

He didn't even feel the hands untie him. He didn't feel the knights gently lift his too-warm body from the pyre, didn't feel himself being carried into the castle and placed on a bed, didn't feel Arthur's tears of mingled guilt and relief splash onto his face.

He did, however, somehow, amidst the quiet and dark of unconsciousness, hear Arthur's voice cut through the silence, strong and familiar and real. "Gods, I – I'm so sorry, Merlin. My dearest friend, I–"

When he woke, Merlin would embrace his king, reassure him that no lasting harm had been done. He would smile at his friends, clasp hands with the knights and hug Gaius, find Gwen and make sure she hadn't suffered the same disorienting day that he had. He would answer all questions asked of him, and he would assure Arthur and the knights as many times as it took that he did not blame them, would explain Morgana's dark role in everything. He would find Morgana, and make sure that nothing like this would happen again.

When he woke, the world would be right. It wouldn't be normal – after everything that had been done to him, after all the betrayals, even though he didn't blame his friends, it would take a while for normal to come back around. But Merlin would persist, and he would have his friends – his real friends, with their real memories – to help him through it. As he would help them through the ramifications of their own pain, guilt, and regret.

And when he woke, he would be named the official Court Sorcerer of Camelot. He would be given a robe fine enough for a king, but he wouldn't care about that. All that would matter would be him, at Arthur's side, protecting him and fulfilling their destiny. That was how it had always been, and Merlin, when he woke, would look forward to a bright future of peace and hope.

But for now, he gratefully, peacefully slept, knowing that when he next opened his eyes, Camelot would remember.

[phantombandit-films]

Why ‘War of the Worlds’ (2005) is a underrated masterpiece.

‘War of the Worlds’ was released in 2005, it is directed by the film god that is Steven Spielberg (Jaws, E.T.) and written by Josh Friedman (Terminator: Dark Fate, Avatar 2) and David Koepp (Jurassic Park, Mission: Impossible) 

Cast:  - Tom Cruise as Ray Farrier. - Justin Chatwin as Robbie Farrier. - Dakota Fanning as Rachel Farrier. - Miranda Otto as Mary Ann. -Tim Robbins as Harlan Ogilvy. - Ann Robinson as Grandmother.  - Gene Barry as Grandfather. 

First lets start with some history of ‘The War of the Worlds’ - The 2005 film is based off the novel of the same name which was written by H.G. Wells between 1895 and 1897, it then was then made into a series by Pearson’s Magazine in 1897 in the UK, Cosmopolitan in the US. Then becoming a hardback novel in 1898, it is one of the earliest written pieces to tell a story of conflict between Martians and man and so its one of the most commented on pieces of science fiction. 

It has been adapted and developed several times over many decades in many medias, the ones that come to mind are the famous 1938 dramatic radio reading that was directed and starred Orson Welles that actually caused public panic to those who listened in and didn’t know that the Martian invasion was fiction, its said that up to a million people ran out of their homes in terror.  (Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_War_of_the_Worlds_(1938_radio_drama) )

The 1953 ‘The War of the Worlds’ film adaptation, which was produced by George Pal and directed by Byron Haskin. It also starred Gene Barry (who played Dr. Clayton Forrester) and Ann Robinson (who played Sylvia Van Buren) who can also been seen at the end of the 2005 film, they play the grandparents of Robbie and Rachel which I think is a sweet little cameo to see for those who loved the 1953 film.  Ann Robinson also revived her role as Sylvia Van Buren in two other films and three episodes of ‘The War of the Worlds’ tv series in 1988. 

In 1978 the most well known musical album by Jeff Wayne was produced and based off the story of ‘War of the Worlds’ this album included the voices of Richard Burton and David Essex.

This was then turned into a concert musical which tours annually through out the UK and Europe, the concert includes live performers such as Carrie Hope Fletcher but also a 3D hologram of Liam Neeson. It also includes a mix of computer animation, pyrotechnics and a big mechanical tripod that comes out on stage and lights up and can fire its heat-ray. 

(Source: Birmingham Mail.)

There have also been several Tv series, the two newest being the 2019 BBC version staring Poldark’s Eleanor Tomlinson and Full Monty’s Robert Carlyle, that has a Edwardian setting and follows closely to the novel. 

The other being the FOX 2019 adaptation that is set in present day Europe but I found this version didn’t really go off the novel, and was frustrated with the lack of the famous Tripods.  (Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_War_of_the_Worlds) 

As a kid I would watch the 1953 film with my mum all the time as its one of her favourites and I do really like it, but then 2005 rolled around and in comes Steven Spielberg’s version. To be fair it was probably 2006 when I finally saw it, I was nine years old at the time and I remember my dad bringing home the DVD that someone at work had lent him. I don’t remember watching it but I do remember having nightmares for a month after, only for a month though.  Many years later when I was half way through high school and getting more and more into film my dad then bought the DVD from Woolworth's before it shut down, the DVD didn’t have a case only a see through CD case so I think it only cost him something like 50p. So I re-watched and again I don’t really remember this but all of a sudden I was hooked, and it climbed to the second spot on my favourite movies list where it still sits today. Honestly if you asked anyone I was friends with at that time they will tell you just how obsessed I was with it.  

I have many scenes that I love in this film the first being the rise of the first tripod, but there are two that I geek out over every time. 

The first scene being the one in the basement at Robbie and Rachel’s house, the scene starts off with Ray asleep in a chair. He starts to stir when when a blue flash of light on his face, but then jolts up right at a load whooshing noise followed by closely by Robbie shooting up from just below the camera. I love the way that Robbie appears sort of fits with the sound that’s heard, also the whole mood of the scene which is pitch black with this blue flashing light every now and then. The fact that you’re just as clueless as the characters as well, you find out what’s happening when they find out.  Also the way that Rachel appears behind the basement stairs, which will appear again near the end of the movie in a much more damaged basement which shows just how much their world has changed in just a short few days.  The sound design in this movie as well is something that I love, I love when the sound in a film alone can creep you out. The tripod sound is one of my favourite sounds to exist, like if I heard that from outside I would be so creeped out and scared.  At this moment in time Robbie and Rachel have no idea what is hunting them or what Ray has seen, Imagine running from something and seeing something completely destroy the whole of your neighbourhood yet not knowing what it looks like. This is what runs through my mind when I heart Rachel cry “Is it them, Is it them?!”  Then the next morning when Ray goes upstairs and see’s that the house is just completely destroyed by an aeroplane that has crashed down in the middle of the the housing estate. This Boeing 747 was a out of use plane and the production crew bought it for $60,000 which then cost them $200,000 to transport, it was then broken into pieces and houses were built around it. Which just shows how far some movie productions will go to make a film look more legit. (We love practical effects in this house.) This scene is still set up at Universal Studios Hollywood and can be seen on the Studio tour. 

(Basement and Plane crash scene.)

My second favourite scene, which is one of my all time top favourite scene ever with no surprise is the dock scene.  The speeding train that’s on fire is absolute stunning in every sense but for me the scene starts when the music starts.  ‘If I ruled the world, everyday would be the first day of spring.’ But i’m really glued to the screen when Rachel starts to follow the birds coming in from the river to in land, she follows them up to the hill where she notices the tree’s on the top are moving weirdly. “The tree’s are funny.” She then reaches out and grabs onto Rays hand who was talking to a friend.  Robbie turns to the hill as the camera slowly comes back and shows Robbie also turning to look at where Ray is looking. (Just remembering that this is the first time Robbie and Rachel ever see the tripods.) 

The camera then shows us what the family is looking at to reveal a tripod stood on the top of the hill, it then moves one of its legs which crushes a tree and makes everyone else look back. Obviously chaos ensues from this point on, everyone running trying to get onto the ferry to get away from the impending doom, unfortunately we learn that no where, not even on the water is safe. As a tripod comes up from out of the water and attacks the ferry, the family manage to escape and get to land on the other side of the ferry. They stop for a moment to catch their breath as people are being picked out of the water below them, they turn as a old air raid alarm is heard on the other side of the hill and we see tripods coming over another hill that was filled with people and using their head rays to wipe them all out, we also see in the distance a lighting storm indicating more Martions are still coming to earth. The scene is like a depiction of all the stages of the attack.  (Dock attack scene.)

I mean all the action scenes in this movie are just so beautiful and amazing, but did we expect any less from Spielberg? And the CGI and practical are all done extremely well and fitted together to make a scene look as real as possible. One of the art directors that worked on this film, Doug J. Meerdink who has also worked on Jurassic Park: III, Cloverfield and Jurassic World. 

I was looking up some trivia on IMDB for this movie and found that there was a deleted scene that is called the ‘Camelot’ scene. This scene is supposed to take place between the attack on the ferry and the battle on the hill, it involves Ray, Rachel and Robbie walking through an abandoned housing estate that’s named Camelot, when a pack of tripods start walking near by.  One of the tripods breaks off and the family has to take cover behind a SUV, they watch helplessly from behind as the tripod reaches into the house and grabs people from the houses. This scene has never been released but apparently it was fully finished, VFX and all but then taken out a few weeks before post production was wrapped up.  There is only one official video from this scene that was in the actual trailer for the film, and it’s only a shot of the family hiding behind the SUV. 

The only other shot from the scene is this landscape shot of a CGI tripod. 

There are also photos of the set designers setting up the miniature of the housing estate to shoot this scene, the rest are fan arts of how the scene maybe looked/ played out.  (Source)

I really hope that one day Steven releases this scene, or for some anniversary adds it into an extended version of the film like we’ve seen for other films. Because I would love that so much! It seems like such an incredible scene, and to see the tripods up this close again would be so cool! 

One of the trailers that was released for this film doesn’t have any of the film shots it in, It takes place in a normal neighbourhood where people are just going about their normal nightly routine when suddenly over the hill there are all these brilliant flashing lights, everyone's just coming out of their houses in their pj’s and standing in the street marvelling at this sight in front of them. Then we see explosions and suddenly heat rays are blowing up the tress on the street which then goes into the title.  I just love this, a trailer that doesn’t give anything away from the movie but creeps you out enough to be invested.  (Trailer.)

All in all it’s just an very visually pleasing film, it feels real enough to give you a sense of fear for the characters and for yourself. I also love that Steven stayed true to the source material,more truer than some of the other adaptations and also added in his own little Easter eggs.  The sounds, the aesthetic, the colours just everything comes together so beautifully. I think its a very underrated movie that deserves so much more love.

[365days365movies]

May 9, 2021: A.I. Artificial Intelligence (2001) (Recap: Part One)

Welcome to the future.

At this point, we’ve mostly looked at the past, present, or the near-future (as in, the next ten years, if that). Additionally, we’ve looked either at nonexistent technology in a contemporary setting, or an extension of existing technology taken to a logical next step. But no more. No more realism, no more real-world rules, and nothing that we’re even close to in this reality.

Well...mostly.

That’s genuinely impressive, not gonna lie. Anyway, yeah, from here forwards (for a bit), we’ll be looking at the future and futuristic technology. Now, there are a couple of ways in which these films tend to go. The first big way that we tend to represent the future in film is the same way we always have: flying cars, futuristic technology, smart houses, and robots.

Now, there are countless examples of this future, and it always changes a bit depending on the present. Which, yeah, makes sense. After all, what I’m doing right now, at this moment, would’ve been seen by many people as a massive technological achievement, even around the time that I was born. Which, yes, I’m old, deal with it (because I can’t). Anyway, the way that this begins is with the first major filmed view of a seemingly idyllic future: Fritz Lang’s 1927 film Metropolis.

The overly mechanized (and politically dystopic) society seen in this film, as well as the visuals and technology, would inform our ideas of the future throughout the next century. Multiple themes and common objects reoccur throughout futuristic fiction. You know the stuff I’m talking about. Flying cars, automatic food machines, robotic assistants, video watches, holograms, jetpacks, so on and so forth.

But here’s the thing about the future. It’s always ahead of us, and eventually...well, we’ve gotten to most of those things to some degree. Either they already exist...

...or is currently being developed.

Well, one of them we’re still working on. And the development of more advanced AI is something we have yet to perfect, or even fully develop. However, the development of A.I. (and the consequences of that technology) are ALL OVER science fiction. Sometimes, they’re merely used for flavor to help establish the futuristic setting.

Sometimes, they’re characters with their own agency and conflicts, which may or may not define the plot. In these cases, they’re often simply there to back up the main human characters, and help with their development, and sometimes their own. You know, manic pixie dream robots.

And then, possibly most often, they’re the abject villains of the piece. they can be mysterious alien technology, like in The Day the Earth Stood Still, or a man-made danger that turns on the race that created and/or abused it.

But then, on occasion, an A.I. is given the chance to develop as a character, without being used to define the development of a human character. Sometimes, the question of what life truly means is raised through these characters, and we become attached to them outside of any other character. This isn’t nearly as common as the others, but it’s definitely not unheard of.

And for the record...things don’t often go well for those AIs. But still, some of those characters have quite a lasting impact. So, there’s quite a lot of potential for this type of character, from a dramatic standpoint. And that potential leads us to the guy who made this.

I WILL MAKE A JURASSIC PARK REFERENCE AS OFTEN AS POSSIBLE

Steven Spielberg gives us today’s entry, and this director of a classic science fiction story about science gone awry teamed up with the director of a science fiction film where an artificial intelligence went awry. You know, this thing.

I didn’t forget about HAL. And I won’t forget about him later, either.

Director Stanley Kubrick is pretty well-know for his mind-bending films, especially The Shining and 2001: A Space Odyssey. But he also worked with Spielberg on this film before his death in 1999, as this was one of his dream projects for many years, and the two directors were well-known friends.

And so, eventually, Spielberg was given the reins from Kubrick, and results were...mixed. It’s funny, because I’ve never actually seen this movie, but I remember it through its surprisingly widespread ad campaign. I used to go to NYC as a kid a lot, and there was a massive building-side plastered with the iconic logo of this movie. So, I’ve been hovering around this movie for a long time. Enough navel-gazing!

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (Part One)

It is, unsurprisingly, the future. A marrator informs us that climate change has caused the ice caps to melt, and global flooding drowns several countries. You could say that it’s a...Waterworld.

I genuinely considered watching that movie at some point, and then I decided I liked myself to much to watch 2 hours of Kevin Costner’s emotionless acting. Granted, it’s not much better now, listening to the emotionless acting of...

Professor Allen Hobby (William Hurt) is a straight-up sociopath. OK, technically, he’s a robotics engineer, but dude’s making a speech, right? He talks about how far robots have come, dissing my boi Deep Blue in the process, and notes that pain-memory response can also be demonstrated by robots. He proves this by stabbing a woman in his audience, like RIGHT through the hand. Jesus, man! Why the hell would you do that?

Oh. Holy shit, I got fooled. Advanced technology indeed. But OK, so Sheila’s a robot, and a very advanced one...to us. But Hobby wants more, and proposes to his workers to make a robot that can really TRULY love. And through love may come a true subconscious, which means making a robot that can dream. And what better robot to make than a robot child? After all, all child conception requires a license in this futuristic world, so many childless couples are yearning for a child.

Which is why, twenty months later, the first robot child is offered to Henry and Monica Swinton (Sam Robards and Frances O’Connor), a couple...with a child. Um. Guys. You JUST SAID that there are legit childless couples who need a child, and those people would be best suited to love that robot child back (a VERY GOOD question raised by one of Hobby’s subordinates). So why give it to a couple whose son is still alive? Yeah, he’s got a rare disease that they don’t have a cure for yet, and is currently in cryostasis, BUT THEY HAVE A KID! Surely, that’s going to be a potential emotional conflict! And what if the kid wakes up or some shit? This is a TERRIBLE goddamn idea. Think this shit through, guys.

And yet...

This is David (Haley Joel Osment), Cybertronics’ first child robot, brought home by Henry to essentially replace their son. Which is AMAZINGLY FUCKING TONE-DEAF AND INSANE, GODDAMN. That’s extraordinarily messed up. And, for the record, I totally get what Spielberg’s going for, but Jesus Christ, man. This was a terrible way to go about this. And it gets fucking WORSE.

See, Henry (who actually works for Cybertronics) tells Monica that, once they sign the papers and complete the updates, David will imprint on them and see him as their true parents, loving them unconditionally. Which...yeah, fuck, that’s an entire DUMP TRUCK of ethics issues right there. And, while we’re at it, David is...creepy as shit. I mean it, dude, Haley Joel Osment is a VERY good child actor, but he’s laying on the creepy robot child thing THICK. And yeah, this is BEFORE he imprints on them. Jesus fuck, man, there’s a scene where the still uncomfortable Monica is outside of a glass door, and he looks back at her THROUGH THE DOOR like a goddamn SERIAL KILLER.

And I gotta tell ya, dude does not lay off that creepy-ass dial one iota. And for that matter, the music by John Williams ISN’T FUCKING HELPING. LISTEN to this shit, and imagine a robot child that you don’t know wandering around your house. It’s amazingly fucking creepy.

AND IT JUST. KEEPS. GETTING. WORSE. There’s a scene where they’re all at dinner, right, and David’s just staring at them as they eat, mimicking their actions. After all, he’s a robot, he can’t actually eat or drink anything because of his internal working. And then, out of FUCKING NOWHERE, he starts laughing like the FUCKING JOKER, and it scares the EVER-LOVING SHIT OUT OF ME. And somehow, they laugh alongside him, in the never-ending Stockholm syndrome that is this movie! And as soon as its over, he just STOPS laughing, spontaneously. Fuck me, man, I’m tempted to stop watching here and now, and I’m only TWENTY MINUTES IN! I need a fucking break.

And after that...OF COURSE she decides to activate his imprinting protocols to make him, let me remind you, LOVE HIM FOREVER! She reads out a series of words, and after “FREIGHT CAR”, he knows his mission is to kill the Prime Minister of Sokovia. But first, he’ll settle down and love Monica unconditionally (again, FOREVER), calling her Mommy and making me shit my pants in fear. IT WASN’T ME, IT WAS FUCKING DAVID

Oh, and by the way, isn’t it kinda shitty to do that without Henry being involved AT ALL? Like, cool, he has unconditional maternal love, but Henry wasn’t a part of that conditioning at all! And he still refers to him as “Henry” instead of Dad! However, Henry definitely doesn’t care about that, because he still sees David as only a robot. Hey, guys, maybe using these two as your first experiment with a robot child WAS A TERRIBLE FUCKING IDEA, YOU IDIOTS! No wonder William Hurt was cast as Thunderbolt Ross in the MCU. Already shown he can play a character with shitty ideas before.

Anyway, after this terrible series of events, David prevents the parents from leaving one night due to his childlike antics. When Monica goes to comfort him, he asks how long she’ll live, and tells her that he hope she never dies, a COMPLETELY NORMAL THING TO SAY. Look, I get that he’s a robot, but only a goddamn emotionless sociopath would program emotional responses like this into a robot. Which, given what we’ve seen of Hobby, makes sense.

In response, she gives him Teddy (Jack Angel), a technologically advanced teddy bear with sentience, a personality, and the voice of Astrotrain from The Transformers TV series. Because, yes, I am THAT MUCH of a goddamn nerd.

Soon after, the house gets a phone call, which David receives...literally. He takes the phone and allows it to speak through him. It turns out that, shock beyond shocks, THEIR SON IS CURED! Yeah, fuck. Maybe giving David to a family with a STILL LIVING SON is a fucking ABSOLUTELY TERRIBLE IDEA, for about a thousand reasons.

And, fucking understandably, Martin Swinton (Jake Thomas) is a little upset to find out that he’s essentially been replaced by a robot kid. Although, to be fair, he’s also kind of a dick to David, holding his humanity over him and treating him as a toy that he attempts to manipulate and bully. My Lord, this is a massively stupid idea. And Martin immediately shows his dickishness by asking his mother to read Carlo Collodi’s The Adventures of Pinocchio to them. Which is meant to be a punishment for Pinocchio. However, of course, David loves it.

Still, however, there’s trouble in paradise for David, as he tries to compete with Martin for being a real boy, and eats spinach at dinner one evening. Despite Teddy’s mildly ominous warning to him (”YOU WILL BREAK”), he keeps eating until he basically has a stroke and breaks, forcing him to be repaired by some of Cybertronics’ technicians. Monica has a bit of a break down as a result, which Martin notices. This causes Martin to go pure supervillain, manipulating David to do creepy things in order to insert doubt into Monica about David. Jesus, Martin’s a creepy kid, too. No wonder Monica grew to be cool with David, her actual son is a FUCKING SOCIOPATHIC MONSTER! Are there ANY truly normal people in this world? IS THIS WHAT THE FUTURE IS?

Martin convinces David to cut a lock of Monica’s hair while she’s sleeping. And lemme tell ya, a little boy holding scissors over someone while they sleep is not exactly comforting. Henry agrees, and after stopping him, believes that they need to return him. Monica disagrees, knowing that they’ll destroy him if brought back. But David, ever the semi-sociopath himself, ignores any signs of humanity in David and dismisses Monica's feelings for him entirely. He also says this thing about “IF HE CAN BE PROGRAMMED TO LOVE, CAN NOT HE BE PROGRAMM-ED TO HATE?”, which...no. No, he cannot. He didn’t learn to love, he was programmed to. And, again, that’s ethically FUCKED, but taking that into account...no. HE WASN’T PROGRAMMED TO HATE, HENRY. Goddamn, buddy, use your head here.

It’s Martin’s birthday, and his friends at the pool party expose David to the fun world of anti-robot (or Mecha) racism, and test to see if he has Damage Avoidance Systems by threatening him with a knife. And he does. Buuut, when those systems kick in, he goes to the nearest point of safety to keep himself safe. That point is, unfortunately, Martin, whom he gets behind...and accidentally drags into the pool.

Thing is, because of Martin’s recent illness, he can’t exactly swim, meaning that David almost drowns him. When Henry and other partygoers go to save him, they abandon David in the pool completely. And now, David’s fucked. Because although this situation isn’t even a little bit his fault, he also just nearly killed Martin. And so, after seeing notes that he’s been writing to her, Monica offers to take for a “ride in the country”. Which definitely means something good. In reality, she’s planning on taking him back to Cybertronics. But once in the car, there’s a change in plans. And hear me out...it’s arguably far more horrifying.

She decides to abandon him in the woods completely, despite how hard it is for her to leave him. She’s sparing him from death, sure, but also throwing him into a world he doesn’t understand, and for reasons that he doesn’t understand. It’s genuinely terrible. And then...yeah, she leaves him forever, to an uncertain future.

End Act One.

I think this is a good place to stop. It’s early, and I need more coffee to handle this shit. See you in Part Two. Of Three. Yup. It’s a long one.

[hopetwink]

Fic Analysis: Yellow Somethings

Yellow Somethings by @kidcarma

I’ve been in a creative rut lately, so one of the things I’m doing in the meantime is analyzing my favorite fics written by friends and/or acquaintences. This work was one of the first that came to mind, so it’s the first one I wrote an in-depth character analysis for. 

Some people tell me I’m scarily good at psychoanalyzing both fictional characters and authors, so I’m harnessing that ability here in hopes it’ll give both you guys (and maybe also me) a greater appreciation for these well-written works. 

So yeah, enjoy!

When I first read this work, one thing that immediately stood out to me was the dialogue. Good dialogue can stand on its own. If we cut out everything except the first exchange of dialogue between Hinata and Komaeda, the strength of this dialogue becomes evident.

“I hate you.”

“I can live with that.”

As any skilled writer knows, well-written first lines are crucial to the allure of a story. The first line must not only be an enticing hook, but an informative and non-expositional string of words that give the reader a strong sense of the work as a whole. It instantly sets the tone for a piece, allowing us to get a sense of where the characters are now, and what direction they’re going in. 

The author’s choice to make the first line a piece of dialogue tells us they want to plunge us headfirst into the story. In fanfiction, which cannot exist without source material to draw from, it’s safe to assume one’s audience already knows a great deal about the canon lives and fates of the characters the story explores. It’s a nice shortcut that lets writers avoid having to excessively recap the events of the canon storyline, but the way this particular author makes use of this shortcut is significant. The intensity of the language they chose to use serves another purpose--to give the reader exactly what they promised the fic would contain in the summary, notes, and tags, and knock anyone who isn’t ready to read it off balance. 

In less than a hundred words, Komaeda confronts Hinata with intensely negative feelings that most people wouldn’t hesitate to take at face value, and Hinata makes it clear that regardless of if Komaeda truly hates him, he has no intention of abandoning him. 

‘Hate’ is a funny emotion; you can’t hate someone and be indifferent to them at the same time. To hate someone is to care about them, though even the mere suggestion that we care for the people we hate on some level is uncomfortable and counterintuitive. So yes, Komaeda’s telling the truth, he does hate Hinata. I don’t think he holds Hinata’s past against him; that would not only be unfair, but go against Komaeda’s efforts to promote and embody hope. Lingering on a past full of despair instead of looking towards the future does nothing to further the great cosmic goals of hope. 

Komaeda wouldn’t hate Hinata over something so broad and vague; no, the reason Komaeda hates Hinata is simple: Hinata’s the only one who isn’t fazed by Komaeda’s delusions, and he refuses to give Komaeda the dignity of rotting away in peace. 

In taking care of Komaeda, Hinata forces him to confront every last ounce of shame in his body, because somebody decided he was worth keeping alive, worth helping to heal and protect, when that goes against what he thinks with every fiber of his being. He has to sit helplessly and watch as Hinata emotionally strips him down and sees what he believes to be the ugliest parts of himself, the ones that he genuinely would rather die before willingly showing them to someone else, and being subjected to such humiliation at the hands of someone with good intentions is too much for him to bear. 

The only remotely empowering emotion he can cling to at the moment is bitterness, which enables him to find little ways to resist Hinata’s attempts to nurse him back to health at every turn. 

We see him try to reclaim some leverage in their power dynamic when he attempts to psychoanalyze Hinata and determine the reason he hasn’t given up on Komaeda yet through quips like “you do this because you feel bad” and “is it because the image of my dead body lives on in your mind.” Komaeda cannot allow Hinata to see him be vulnerable, because if he does, all the effort he put into building an impenetrable wall around his heart over the past fifteen or so years will have been for nothing. 

This feature of the fic is only made more poignant by the fact that it’s written from Hinata’s perspective--we don’t see what Komaeda is thinking or feeling, only his words and actions. But we see Hinata’s, which brings me to another underlying message: sometimes love isn’t gentle. Sometimes love isn’t soft and sweet, or pretty. Hinata loves Komaeda, even if he himself doesn’t realize or understand it. Because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t bother. He would’ve simply walked out of Komaeda’s hospital room the first time he refused to take his medicine. And he didn’t do that. He would never do that, not to Komaeda.

Hinata’s love for Komaeda is reflected in the yellow flowers he leaves next to his hospital bed, and that is why we catch a glimpse of his frustration when Komaeda breaks it. But in a way, this is a good thing--as Hinata begins to open up about his emotions, the pair move further away from their cycle of codependency and towards something closer to a symbiotic relationship. Perhaps someday, instead of needing to need each other, they will be able to love each other with no strings attached. 

This is what makes Komaeda’s decision to replace the flowers in Hinata’s vase much more significant than it appears on the surface--not only is it a gesture of goodwill and apology, but a sign that Komaeda is finally taking initiative in their relationship. No longer will Hinata have to carry both of their burdens; Komaeda is willing and able to reciprocate the love and effort Hinata has selflessly given him. 

The fic ends on Hinata doing some much needed introspection, and eventually coming to the conclusion that he isn’t happy with the way his life has turned out. Because, despite everything he’s been through, all the knowledge, talent, and skill he’s gained, and the external validation he’s received from his friends, it’s not enough. What Hinata wants is a purpose beyond caring for Komaeda. One day Komaeda will be fully recovered and then Hinata will have no other meaningful task to do, and nothing to distract himself from his inner turmoil. 

What Hinata needs is to see himself as inherently valuable, and he’s incapable of doing that until he learns to forgive himself. Right now, he’s not ready to accept his or Komaeda’s forgiveness yet, but deep down he knows that’s the only way to pull himself out of the pit of self-loathing he’s buried in.

Perhaps I’m reading too deeply into this clean, clear-cut fic, but I highly doubt the author went into this scenario with little to no knowledge of both Hinata and Komaeda’s mental predicaments. The underlying whispers of each character’s desire to love and be loved, to feel something--anything--when they’re too numb to care, is not a dynamic that an unskilled writer would be able to execute so gracefully. 

At the very least, Carmen has quite the natural aptitude for extracting the real life emotions they and others around them experience, and at the most, they have done extensive research involving both outside sources and (multiple) character studies. Regardless of whether either or both are true, I’m extremely impressed at how well they’ve managed to nurture the seeds of creativity in their mind, and I look forward to more opportunities to explore their works with in-depth analyses.

[jawritter]

Prank Gone Wrong

A/N: This was a private request from my sister. So you guys don’t crucify me upside down lol. This was originally posted on wattpad, and someone who wished to remain anon asked me to bring it over here. So be nice lol. As always all mistakes are mine! Feedback is golden! Hope you all enjoy this one. I was nervous about writing it. 

**Disclaimer!** This is a complete and total work of fiction. I don’t believe Jared would ever do something like this!! LOL Even though Misha may beg to differ..... 

Warnings: SMUT, unprotected smut, drugged!jensen, jared being an asswhole on accident. (kinda), language, exaggerated effects of a drug, hint at reader with body image issues (very brief), male masterbations (also brief). Shifting viewpoints. I think/hope that’s everything.

Pairing: Jensen x Jared, Jensen x reader, Dean x Cherry (reader’s character), Richard Speight x reader, Richard Speight x Jensen, Misha x Reader, Jared x Reader, Jared x Misha. 

Word Count: 5103

Want more? Check out my masterlist!

****MASTERLIST****

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Jensen's POV:

"Jensen, JENSEN!" Mikaela screamed at him. Making him jump in his seat. 

"Sorry." He said, Settling back down in the makeup chair. Turning his head for her like she wanted so that she could even out the base coat of makeup she was applying to his face. 

"You feeling okay? You're really zoned out this morning."

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine, just tired I guess." Jensen said. Knowing that was an absolute lie. He wasn't tired at all. In fact he'd never felt more awake in his life. 

Today was the day he'd been nervous about since he found out about it. The sex scene between "Cherry," Dean's new love interests.. And Dean. And Cherry just happened to also be Richard's niece y/n. 

See Jensen has had a secret crush on y/n since she started working for the show four weeks ago. He'd been separated from Danneel for six months now. The only ones on the set that knew that was Jared. So there was no way that Jensen could ask y/n out even though he really wanted to. He had to wait for things to become public, and he didn't want to do that until the divorce was finalized. 

Now here he was, going to have to preform a sex scene with the woman that he can't seem to get out of his head. While everyone, except Jared, thinks that he's still in love with Danneel.

"Morning sexy!!" Jared said, flopping down in the makeup chair next to him. Handing him a cup of coffee that he gladly accepted. 

"Thank you!! I was running late this morning, and didn't get go by and grab myself any." 

"So you ready for today's scene with y/n?" Jared said wiggling his eyebrows at his friend. Watching him intently as he took a deep swing from his coffee.

"Yea, guess as I'll ever be... "

"Okay Jensen your done!" Mikaela said. Ushering him out of the trailer door. He was running late to the costume trailer as well, so he downed the rest of his coffee, and bolted for the door. Glad to be away from Jared and the conversation at hand. He did not want to discuss today's scene with anyone. He just wanted to get it over with. He definitely didn't want to admit he was fighting everything in him that was excited to see her underneath him, even if it was just pretend.

Jared's POV:

Jared rushed out of the makeup trailer headed toward the costume trailer. Seeing Misha coming out of it already in full Castiel mode. 

"Misha you coming to watch Jensen and y/n's scene today?" He asked. Making only two short strides of his long legs in order to catch up with the shorter man. 

"I don't know, should I? My coverage isn't until once they're done with you in the bunker library." Misha said. Looking up from his script he was reading when Jared had caught up with him. 

" Well you might want to, it might get... Interesting..." Jared said. Almost bouncing on the balls of his feet with glee. 

"What did you do Jared?" Misha said. Looking at the overly tall man, concerned, but grateful for once It was Jensen and y/n who were in the line of fire and not Misha himself. 

"Well. I was at my uncle's house on the brake, and while I was snooping in his guest bathroom I found some Viagra shots. So.. .I kind of stole one of them... Anyway, I knew Jay and y/n had this scene today, and was running late. So I got him a cup of coffee and brought it to the makeup trailer for him. With the Viagra shot mixed in it..." 

Jared was grinning like a criminal that had just pulled off the greatest bank robbery in human history. Misha stood there with his jaw on the ground, caught somewhere between amusement, and concern for Jensen. 

"Well did... I'm... Oh my god Jared... Did he drink it?" Misha said. Concern growing, but amusement winning out in the end. He did make a mental note NEVER to accept coffee from Jared ever again...

"Yep downed it before he left the makeup trailer. Come on, it's going to take them about an hour to set up. So it should be good and in his system by the time they get down to business." Jared said taking off toward the costume trailer to hurry and get changed into Sam's outfit. This may be the greatest prank he's pulled yet!!

Your POV:

You were having one of those days.. Nothing was going right. You spilled your coffee this morning before you got to finish it. Cliff was late getting you and Jensen to set, you both lived in the same apartment complex while filming in Vancouver, so you usually just car pooled with them, it was just easier. 

Even though you guys were already running late, traffic kept you even later, like the whole universe was trying to cosmically get you back for having  a huge crush on this extremely handsome and extremely married man that was sitting next to you. 

You where nervous about the sex scene today. No matter how many of them you did, they were always awkward. Add in the major crush you had on your costar, and that made it even more awkward. 

Jensen must have been nervous, because he wasn't his normal talkative self on the way into the studio. 

It was an hour worth of hair and makeup for you, then to your trailer to change into your nude underwear and robe to head to set. It was also December in Vancouver, which made that a very cold walk.

By the time you got to set that morning. Everyone was there and in place. Jensen was standing off in the corner talking to the director, you took your place already in the bed. For this scene your character Cherry was supposed to be sleeping, and Dean comes into her to.. Well You know... After an extra difficult hunt and your characters argument that you filmed yesterday were Dean had admitted his feelings for Cherry, but ran out of the bunker before she could respond to him.

Stripping your robe you get under the sheets and turn on your side as directed by Eric. Your uncle Richard comes over and kneels down on the side of the bed to talk to you.

"How are you feeling kid, are you sure you're okay with this?" 

"I'm a big girl Richard. I think I can handle a little sex scene." You tell him. Trying to downplay your nerves a little. 

"Okay, Okay," He said. Throwing his hands up in mock surrender. "You know what's going to happen, Jensen's going to come through the door, stand next to your bed. The coverage is going to be on a sleeping Cherry, Dean will then strip down and slip into the bed with you. That's where we're going to start the fun stuff. Now we haven't scripted this scene. Because no matter how much we've tried we can't make it look real on paper, so we're going to have Jensen adlib it. Just follow his lead. If at any moment you feel awkward or uncomfortable, just let us know and we'll reset and start over again. Okay." 

"Okay." You said. Feeling a little information overload, but you should be used to that by now. 

"Okay." He said, Standing up as they brought the lights down on set. "Jensen's a professional, don't worry." He said winking at you and making his way over to his directors chair while you tried your damndest to calm down your racing heart rate. 

Jensen's POV:

Jensen stood off to the side of the set, letting you get comfortable and covered before he made his way to his mark. Trying his hardest to keep his mind on the upcoming task at hand. To do this with as few takes as possible. 

He felt funny, but attributed it to his nerves, and tried to shake it off. Looking over to the side of him behind the camera he saw Jared and Misha standing off to the side by the PA's whispering to each other. Probably going to try and find a reason to make fun of him after this scene is over. Great more pressure. 

Jensen adjusted his stance uncomfortably as the lights came down and they called the markers in place. The commands started to come out. Y/n adjusted in the bed and smiled at him. A smile that nearly knocked the breath out of him. The only problem is it seemed to show off her cleavage in the brief moment that she turned toward him. 

"Quiet on set!!" 

Fuck he was already getting hard, and he hadn't even gotten to the bed yet were she was laying. What the fuck was wrong with him? He tried to low key adjust himself to make himself more comfortable, and hide the fact that he was already having some problems. He'd never done this before. His heart rate quickened. 

"Action."

Your POV:

As soon as they called action your eyes closed and you started to put on the presumption that Cherry was asleep. Waiting for Dean to come through the door with battered breath. You never get tired of watching Jensen play Dean. Jensen was sexy to begin with, but when he put on his bad ass hunter act it just did all sorts of things to you that you weren't ready to admit yet.

You could hear the door shut to Cherry's room, you could also hear your heart beating in your ears, but you tried to ignore it. Keeping focused on keeping your breaths even, like you would if you were really sleeping. 

You could feel Jensen's presents behind you. Even though your eyes were closed. Hearing Dean's clothes hit the floor as he made quick work of them. 

You felt the bed dip as his weight came down behind you, his lips finding your throat. You knew that there was no script to this, and that he was just winging it. So you lay there. Playing off the fact that he hadn't woken her up yet. 

His lips ghosted over your throat to the pulse points behind your ears and you couldn't stop the shiver that went down your back.

"Cut!!!"

"Okay guys great so far. I don't think he needs to do that again. The next time it cuts to you guys your already going to be deep in the act. So... Let's start from there. Since this isn't scripted this might have to be done a few times. You guys good so far?" Richard called out from his directors chair.

"Yea, let's just do it." Jensen said, his voice was a little more strained than normal. He must be nervous too. 

"Okay you guys get in position and Jensen nod when you're ready."

Jensen adjusted himself to be hovering over you. Trying his best to keep staring at the wall, and not you lying underneath him. 

To say that the man was breathtaking was an understatement. A light sheen of sweat already coating his chest. You wondered if they sprayed him before he got into the bed. Why would he already be sweating? Jay wasn't really a sweater. Not that you'd ever noticed anyway. 

Finally looking down at you when he'd positioned himself between your legs, trying hard not to touch you with his body. He supported his weight on his arms, and knees. 

"You okay?" He asked. Looking down at you finally.

"Yeah I'm good, you?" You were starting to feel a little concerned about him. He wasn't acting like his normal joking Jensen at all. It worried you.

"I'm fine sweetheart don't worry about me." He said, winking at you. Trying to make light of an awkward situation. Even though you had nude underwear on, you couldn't help but feel exposed to him, and you couldn't help but feel self conscious about the parts of your body that you weren't necessarily happy with. 

Jensen looked over to Richard and nodded to him. Then the two of you lay there waiting on the words action!

Jensen had his eyes closed and was taking deep breaths above you. 

"Quiet on Set, ready, and action!!"

As soon as the words were called Jensen's mouth crashed into yours. Knocking the wind out of you. My god the man was a good kisser. 

His lips brushed lightly over your own. That's when you felt him start to move his body above your own, careful not to touch his hips to yours, and keep you covered from the other eyes in the room. 

"Cut!!"

Jensen's head connected to your shoulder and he growled in frustration. "What now Rich?" 

Richard took a tentative step toward the two of you. Jensen still holding his body above your own. 

"I'm sorry Jensen, It just didn't look real, your holding your body too high above hers, you're going to have to have a little contact with each other. You've done this before Jensen. What's wrong today?" 

Jensen took a deep breath, looking from Richard to you. "I just don't want to make y/n feel uncomfortable." He said, keeping his eyes focused on the bed comforter. It was starting to make you feel even more self conscious. Did he not feel attracted to you at all? Did you disgust him so much that he didn't want to even pretend to have sex with you?

Quickly you shoved the feels down, you had to get through this scene. He said he just didn't want to make you uncomfortable. He was trying to show you a little respect, and keeping his eyes deviated form you until absolutely necessary y/n quite being so self conscious!! Jensen is your friend!

"Y/n I don't mean to sound crude, but your niece, and I know you can handle it. I've seen you at parties, we're not that far apart in age, I'm sure you're not a virgin." Your eyes narrowed at him, silently daring him not to go too far here. 

Richard threw his hands up in surrender, and stepped back a step. "All I'm saying is I don't think he'd make you that uncomfortable if his hips ground into you a little. Hell you both have underwear on. It's not like you're really touching each other." 

Rolling your eyes at him and fighting the urge to throw a pillow at his face. "No Richard, it won't make me uncomfortable. Now can we get this done!' 

"Fine, Okay guys here we go!" Richard said running back to his seat. "Action."

Again Jensen's mouth found yours. Slow, but gaining momentum. He ran his hand down your side that the camera was covered on and you couldn't help the small gasp that left your lips or the involuntary shiver that ran down your spine at his touch. 

What you didn't expect was his tongue to run across your lip. Maybe it was an accident. Was he really going to break that rule? Not that you'd mind, but It just didn't seem like Jensen. 

Until you felt it again. This time you give him entrance, and he moans so lowly into your mouth that the camera's wouldn't be able to catch it. The sound is going directly to your core. Soaking your thin layer of panties. 

With that his hips came down fully against yours. Grinding into you once. Something felt off, but you couldn't put your finger on it. His hips came down to yours again as his mouth made its way down your throat. This time you felt him. 

Was he seriously fully erected right now?

He started picking up his pace. Almost rutting into you now. Little moans fall from his lips. 

"Cut!! JENSEN!!"  As soon as his name was called. He flew out of the bed. His back to you and his hands in his hair.  God his back was sexy, but you could tell there was something wrong. 

"Richard I need a few minutes!!" He called over his shoulder not turning around. Jared and Misha burst into a hysterical fit of laughter as Jensen through his robe over his shoulders and almost ran off the set. 

"Okay everybody take 30." Richard said. Grabbing your robe you threw it over your shoulders before Jared and Misha made their way over to where you were standing. Jared was laughing so hard he could hardly breath.

"It's not funny Jared. I think something is wrong with Jensen." You tell him as soon as he gets an ear shot. He couldn't respond only doubling over in laughter.

"Oh yea there's something wrong with him alright." Misha said wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "It's hard to do a sex scene when your horny as fuck." 

With that Jared fell down on the ground on his back rolling. You resisted the urge to hit Misha in the face.

"What is that supposed to mean?" You asked. You weren't about to tell them what you felt, or what Jensen was doing right before the director called cut, because that wasn't Jensen you knew it. They'd done something to him.

"I mean Jared here slipped him liquid Viagra in his coffee this morning in the makeup trailer. He's not quite thinking with his upstairs brain at the moment."

Running your hands over your face as Jared got to his feel heaving with laughter, trying to catch his breath.

"Looks like he ran off to his trailer to try and get ahold of Danneel." Misha said doubling over in his own fit of laughter. Jared on the other hand froze. Not laughing anymore. 

"Oh fuck I forgot." He said, Looking between the two of you. 

"Forgot what?" You said. Fighting the urge to go find a step ladder so that you could slap him in the face without having to jump.

"You guys got to promise not to tell this to anybody, but him and Danni are getting a divorce."

Misha, no longer laughing, turned and faced Jared. "So you mean he's got no one to help him out there, and he's going to basically be stuck with a minimum four hour erection. Jared that's not funny."

"I fucking forgot okay, I knew he had a crush on y/n, he was nervous about the scene today, I just wanted to fuck with him. I didn't think that far ahead. He should be able to just beat it off he'll be fine."

You stood there in stunned silence. "He's got a crush on me?" You said. Looking between the two men. 

They both stopped and looked at you. Jared visibly kicked himself for this prank that had gone very wrong, very quickly.

"Jared you got to go tell him what you did! He's probably freaking the fuck out right now" You tell him. Jared nodes at you, and runs off toward Jensen's trailer. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He felt horrible, but it was too late to take it back now. 

You stood there for a moment weighing your options. 

Finally you made up your mind. 

"Misha go tell Richard we're going to need a lot longer than 30, and that he should go ahead and just do yours and Jared's coverage, me and Jensen can resume after lunch." You said, stalking your way toward Jensen's trailer. 

Misha watched you go. He couldn't help the smirk that spread across his face as realization hit him of where you were going, and just what you had planned to do.

Maybe this prank hadn't gone so wrong after all.

Jensen's POV:

"YOU FUCKING What?!?!" To say that Jensen was livid was an understatement. "What the fuck am I going to do now Jared?!" Pacing back and forth across the trailer. He was frustrated, hornier than he'd ever been in his life, and annoyed beyond belief because of the combination of the two. He was also on the verge of panic. He'd never taken anything like this before, so he had no idea how it was going to react to him, he was only about an hour and a half into its effects. 

"Jensen I'm so fucking sorry, I wasn't thinking about you not having anyone.... to.... you know..." Jensen narrowed his eyes at him in a death glare. Jared threw his arms up, and backed up a few steps. 

"Well guess who gets to explain to Richard why I can't do this scene today?" Jensen says, voice filled with humorless venom. 

Jared looked at the ground, and nodded before looking back up at Jensen who's face and neck was slightly red in the tent. Palming himself through his robes subconsciously. Not looking at Jared at all anymore. Just leaning against the wall with his eyes shut next to the bedroom of the trailer. 

"Maybe I should take you to the hospital?" Jared asked sheepishly. Jensen through his hand up to shut him up. It was getting harder to concentrate. 

"Jared I'm not going to the hospital for this, you've lost your fucking mind." 

"Well if you can't get your... self... under control there you may have to." 

"Jared get the fuck out."

"But.."

Jensen said nothing just pointed to the front door. Jared nodded and walked out the door.  Jensen flopped down on the small couch where he kept his pillow for napping during takes. 

Grabbing a bottle of lotion from the table that y/n had left in there when she was there yesterday running lines with him. The thought of her made him ache even more. His mind is unable to focus on anything but her, and what she'd feel like wrapped around him. 

Groaning and running his hand down his face, he pulled his robe open, and freed himself from his boxers. Putting  a generous amount of lotion in his hand, then began to stroke his aching length. Getting desperate to find some relief. 

He'd only pumped himself about twice when there was another knock on his door. Fuck this was literally going to kill, or Jared, he wasn't sure yet. 

Your POV:

Reaching Jensen's trailer you still your nerves, reach up and knock on the door.... Nothing. Clif's SUV was still in the parking lot, so you knew he was still here. Just not answering the door. 

Reaching up you knock again a little louder. 

"Go away Jared!!" Finally came the muffled response through the trailer door. 

Taking a deep breath, and thanking God that he hadn't had some massive reaction, or had a heart attack from the medication you steel your nerves. 'You can do this.'

"Jensen let me in please." You yell back through the door. Silence for a moment, Just as you were about to pick the lock you heard his voice a little closer to the door. 

"Y/n go away, you don't want to see me right now." 

"Jensen please! I know what Jared did to you! Misha is talking to Richard right now! Let me in!"

Silence. 

"Don't make me pick the lock Jensen."

More silence. 

Just as you were about to pull the hairpin out of your pock to pick the lock on his trailer door, playing a hunter on TV had taught you how to pick a lock pretty well, you heard the latch unlock on the trailer. 

Opening the door yourself you see Jensen leaning against the bar that separated the living room from the kitchen section of the trailer. 

His face and neck were red, he had a light sheen of sweat still on his face. His breathing was a little heavier than normal. You could only see him from the chest down, seeing as he was standing behind the bar. 

"Are they going to cancel the scene for the rest of the day?" He asked. His voice is rough and low. The sound alone sends shock waves through your body. Landing somewhere in your core. 

"Yeah, we're off the hook until lunchtime." You tell him reaching over and locking the door behind you. His eyes following your every movement. "Jared and Misha are going to go ahead and shoot their coverage, that should give us about three hours for you to recover."

You start to undo your robe and slip it from your shoulders as you are talking. Your eyes never leave Jensen. He reaches down, obviously palming himself behind the counter. "Y/n... You don't have to do this....." 

Deliberately walking around the counter to him. His robe open, His chest showing bare for you to see. His black boxers barely cover his swollen length. Walking up to him you run your hand down his chest. A shiver visibly runs through him, and he leans himself into your touch. 

"Let me help you Jay, Jared already told Misha and myself that you don't have anyone that can help you. You don't want to end up in the hospital."

Leaning his head down on your shoulder for a moment. Taking a deep breath before wrapping his arms around your waist. 

"Y/n I don't want you to do this because you feel sorry for me." He said, not looking at you, just pulling you closer to him. Your chest now against his. His breathing is getting deeper. 

"Jensen I would do this regardless if Jared drugged your ass or not. Have you seen you lately?" You say jokingly. Trying to make light of his situation. 

Grabbing his hand you pull him toward the open door of the bedroom of his trailer. He follows you silently without a fuss. Pulling the bedroom door shut behind the two of you. 

You lay down on the bed and back yourself up against the headboard with Jensen hot on your heels. His eyes lust blown. Deciding it was no use to fight it. If he didn't do something to get himself off he was going to lose his fucking mind. 

Crashing his lips into your his kissed you deep, fully of passion and need. His tongue sliding easily into your lips. Expertly gliding over your own. A moan rose low in your throat, and that spurred him on. 

Making his way down your jaw line, to your pulse points on your neck, nipping and marking the skin there as he went. 

Reaching around behind you, you arched your back so that he could quickly unlatch your bra. Jerking it away and throwing it across the small room. Taking a moment to look down over you exposed chest. Gently running his fingers between your cleavage as he admired you. Outside your breast. From one to the other before leaning down and gently sucking on each nipple. Making them stand on end for him. Your body arching into his, sucking in a deep breath. 

He hissed as your body pressed against him. Ripping your panties off, and throwing them across the room with your bra before removing his boxer. He quickly lined himself up with you. Slipping just the tip inside your already dripping core. 

"You sure baby? I don't want to do this if you don't want to. I'll just go to the ER if it gets worse." 

Putting your lips to his to silence his worrying, you run your fingers through his short hair as your mouth moves smoothly with his. 

Deliberately he slides himself fully into you with one swift thrust. Both of you groaning as he fills and stretches you in a way no man has ever. Visibly shaking as he holds himself still, giving you a moment to adjust to him. Kissing you deeply before pulling himself almost all the way out, and sliding back in. 

The sensation of his manhood dragging along the inside of your walls was almost enough to send you over the edge right there. You dig your nails into his shoulders and arching your back into him as he finds a steady rhythm. Both of you are touching and feeling all of each other that you could reach. He kept his body pressed close to yours. His hips hitting your clit just right every time he slid himself home. 

Over and over again he repeated his steady rhythm, not faulting once. Building you higher and higher. The coil winding tighter and tighter in your belly. 

"Jensen.. Fuck.... I'm close..." With that you were thrown over the edge walls tightening around his pulsing length. Grunting loudly he worked you at a steady pace through your high. Picking up the pace casing his own. 

Slamming his hips into you faster until he was pounding into you at a punishing pace. Then starting to falter his body jerked above you and inside of you as he spilled seed deep inside of you. Moaning loudly into your shoulder. Slowly trusting himself into you as he road out his own high. Finally stilling inside of you. 

Rolling you both over to your sides before pulling out of you. Kissing you a lot calmer now. Sweeter. Taking his time exploring your mouth, you hands tracing the outline of the curves in your body that you honestly hated. He treated it like it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

You don't know how long the two of you laid there. Just holding each other as your hearts went back to a normal pace.

"How are you feeling now?" You asked him quietly as he ran his fingers through your hair. Peppering you with little kisses. 

He shrugged. 

"Don't know, ask me again in about 15 minutes. They say that shit he gave me last up to four hours. I still have almost three hours to go...."

"Well.... we're just going to stay here and take care of you until you feel better. Good practice for the scene today..."

Giggle a little with you he pressed his forehead to yours. Taking a deep breath. 

"Y/n... I'm a pretty fuck up person. I'm not walking out of that marriage completely fine,  but if you will have me, I really don't want this to be just a fling because Jared is a jackass."

You felt your heart flutter in your chest. You couldn't help the stupid smile that spread across your face as you brushed your lips over his soft pink ones. 

"I think I can handle whatever you have to dish out Ackles."

"Well in that case remind me to thank Jared for being a fucking asshole and drugging my ass." He said with a laugh. You could feel his body already responding to you as he quickly began to harden again. 

"Yeah, I'm going to have to send him a fucking thank you card."

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

Tag List:

@deanwanddamons @imabitch4jensen @rvgrsbrns @bi-danvers0 @onethirstyunicorn @i-love-superhero @akshi8278​

[lilydalexf]

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with Mary Ruth Keller

Mary Ruth Keller has 42 stories at Gossamer, plus her stories are at AO3. She's written a number of short standalone stories, but she's thought through the X-Files mythology and written about it probably as much as anybody ever has. So if you want to dive into the mythology and all its drama, you need to go read her mythology fics ASAP. (But read this long, interesting interview first!) Big thanks to Mary Ruth for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

Quite frankly, yes. The Kuxan Sum Cycle branches off the actual series following the Third Season episode Syzygy. I took the myth-arc as it stood at that time, post Nisei-731, and the agents in mid-Rift. Although I didn’t quite realize it when I started out, I was most interested in moving the myth-arc forward in a continuously unfurling narrative, one where Scully and Mulder became an effective investigative team who support each other as partners and friends again. After I started writing in my little corner of the X-F universe in 1996, there was a lot of stuff on the show that just happened, with no real storytelling logic to it I could fathom, but that seemed to be popular. I stopped writing in 2000 because I was frantically busy at my new job (which consumed far too many twelve-plus-hour workdays and weekends) and because my sister and I were trying to take care of my elderly, increasingly frail, Mother. So, I never expected, when I started writing in 2018 and posting again in 2019 (I reposted all my stories, in order, to AO3 and fanfiction.net, because Chermera would never have made sense without them) for readers to take an interest in myth-arc and character issues that the series writers had simply abandoned to go chase, well, anything else, especially if it made no coherent sense whatsoever. What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

The fandom was a lot of fun. There were many interesting, engaging discussions I took part in with other fans of the show, some of whom I am still in touch with.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

All of the above. I spent a lot of time discussing writing and characters with other writers on ATXC, except when I was actively working on my novels. Since I was doing basic research into microwave remote sensing of the Earth while working at the Naval Research Laboratory at the time – yes, I was one of those dreaded Department of Defense scientists the show had a love/hate relationship with – my writing happened at night and on weekends. Novels, especially the longer ones, take me about a year from first words on disk until release, which meant I didn’t have all the time to participate on-line as I would have otherwise. But, I enjoyed chatting with the fellow denizens of the Endies Board, and on the EMXC, Scullyfic, and Je Souhaite mailing lists. I’ve saved some of those posts and conversation threads on my older computers, where it’s fun re-reading them from time to time. What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

There were a lot of generous, funny, very intelligent fans involved with X-F back then (not that there aren’t now; there are, of course). I started writing because I wanted to get the myth-arc and the characters back on-track, the long-term story moving forward and the agents again being the smart investigators I loved hanging out with on Friday nights. But, outside of having read a lot of myth, literature, fiction, and non-fiction, I didn’t know enough about the mechanics of writing fiction. Several authors were willing to help out, some explicitly through E-mail conversations, and some from general comments about crafting stories that were posted to ATXC. I had a real problem with how I initially handled dialog, which I had some E-mail guidance on, that was very much appreciated. I also had two quite diligent beta readers, one an on-line fan, and one a real-life friend, both male, who helped me with the direction of the Scully-Mulder half of Anath. I was, at the time, utterly exasperated with how the pair of them had become such complete morons on the series, both totally incapable of investigating anything successfully, which was affecting my writing the characters in that story.   What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show? Ooh, boy. I’d like to say I started watching with the show with the Pilot, but I didn’t, quite. Tom Shales was the Washington Post TV critic at the time the Pilot aired – yes, not only was I a government scientist, I was living in Alexandria, Virginia, in 1992. He was intrigued by the characters and premise and found Duchovny and Anderson engaging while playing their roles. At the time, I was wrapped up trying to work on a PhD while still employed at NRL, so I tucked the review away, waiting until I had Friday nights free to check it out. I’m a great lover of science fiction, so I thought to give the show a try, eventually. [Lilydale note: I found a couple things Tom Shales wrote about The X-Files premiere in 1993: Fall 1993 TV preview article and a “Pilot” episode review.]

The first episode I sat down to watch was the First Season Darkness Falls, where Mulder and Scully get trapped at the logging camp with the Earth Firster, Doug Spinney, the logging executive, Steve Humphries, the Forest Ranger, Larry Moore, and the gooey green bugs. I was amazed by that story. It was as perfect a little piece of science fiction as I have seen on TV (except for one bit toward the end), with an environmental moral to it as well, where all the characters make good and bad choices, and they all suffer or succeed because of them.

What hooked me, really hooked me, were the first/second acts, specifically, Dana Scully’s actions, once they find the desiccated logger in the tree. The investigation is handled logically, in that it’s not the big male agent who goes shinnying up the trunk to look at the evidence while everyone else stands around watching and wailing, “Whatever shall we do!” No, it’s little Dana Scully who takes the ride to the upper branches. This made oodles of sense, in that she was this tiny woman whom two men could lever up that far with a rope, a hand winch, and pulleys. When she gets there, after grimacing (who wouldn’t, considering what she saw), she starts investigating. She does an on-the-spot post-mortem exam, while Mulder makes an ooky male-body-parts joke, but everyone takes her results seriously. I was thrilled. Here was a female character I could really relate to, someone who could hold her own in a difficult situation, unlike most of those on the tube, then or now.

I made a point, over the following summer, of watching as many re-runs as I could, catching up on the episodes and characters. The stories ran to science fiction and horror, which are my preference. Further, although there was an emphasis on the paranormal, several of the first season episodes were written so both Mulder’s wanting-to-believe-but-needing-proof intuitive, emotional approach and Scully’s logical, scientific, justice-oriented viewpoint each got the narrative coherently from initial crime to identifying and apprehending a suspect. It was some spectacular, complex writing, and I was hooked, hopelessly hooked. I discuss this some on my old author web-page, which still exists, courtesy of the Wayback machine), so I won’t belabor it. What got you involved with X-Files fan-fic? The shenanigans within the Third Season, quite honestly. The myth-arc wasn’t moving forward, as it had during the Second Season, which I really couldn’t understand. Carter had given us this bang-up start in the ABC Trilogy with all these new fictional possibilities to explore, but instead, bupkis. The MOTW’s were retreads with no depth or moral/ethical weight to them, except for Darin’s stories. The intelligent agents I had enjoyed spending time with while they pursued their oddball investigations were evaporating before my eyes. Mulder had always been this deeply intuitive character who cared about others and knew he could get it wrong, so needed Scully’s logic in their investigations, even if he didn’t always want to hear her observations and questions. But that character was being replaced by a cookie-cutter misunderstood anti-hero, who wasn’t thinking, just running off to chase butterflies, who was always right because he was The Guy. Scully, as an investigator, the little agent who could, was simply being sidelined. Sure, she’d argue with Mulder, but the writers had stopped giving her and her logical viewpoint a real role in their cases, Darin excepted, again. As the series went on, the Agent and Doctor Dana Scully I respected was replaced with this snappish little female whose only notable skill was running in high heels, who spent her time standing around with her arms crossed, and made pruney faces at Mulder if she were required to do any actual investigating. I hated that character, but, apparently, the all-male writing staff just loved her.

I knew about the on-line fandom, so I thought to check out if anybody else had noticed these “improvements.” First, I spent time at ATXF, discussing the changes with the series, that disturbed a lot of folks, not just me. Eventually, I tripped onto ATXC. There were writers there who understood the two characters, quite well, but weren’t that interested in the other problems with the show that bothered me deeply.

Like many fan-fiction writers, I decided to try to bring in, or in my case, bring back, what I was missing in what was being aired. Sins of the Fathers was the result. As I mentioned above, it was a far from perfect story, but I learned much putting it together, and it got a lot of positive feedback. So I kept writing and trying to improve what I wrote. Folks appreciated it, then and now, surprisingly, which was endless encouragement to keep going. What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom? With work and my Mom, as I mentioned above, I dropped out for a few years. My new job is still microwave remote sensing of the Earth, at a University-affiliated laboratory, not working directly for the government, but the NASA/NSF-type funding for the research I like to do is much harder to come by, so it takes up a lot more of my time to keep funded and working. Adding to that, I haven’t found places like ATXC in the 90’s or the Endies Board, but I suppose lightning only strikes once. Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

Not really, no. I’ve enjoyed other TV series, but, I never felt those shows were just throwing away essential parts of themselves as X-F did, or, if they went bad, I simply stopped watching them. A fandom is, or can be, a huge time commitment, which, as I’ve noted, I don’t have that much of. I discuss this quite extensively in my author’s notes at the end of Chermera, so I won’t repeat myself. [Lilydale note: the long author notes are at the end of the story’s last chapter, not in the AO3 notes section.] Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

As a child, I loved reading myths and legends from many different cultures. So many amazing stories, so much that touches on truth. Greek myth, Norse legends, Islamic tales, Celtic fables, all of them. It goes without saying that discovering Tolkien’s fully-realized Middle Earth in my early teens was like falling into an river of endless delights.

In literature, perhaps the character I enjoy most is Sherlock Holmes. On television/in movies, I’d have to say: Beverly Crusher, (early) Dana Scully, Susan Ivanova of Babylon 5, Pa’u Zotoh Zhaan and (early) Aeryn Sun on Farscape, Samantha Carter on Stargate SG-1, Hermione Granger, and most recently, Lagertha on Vikings. Dunno, there might be a pattern there. Possibly. Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

Yes, absolutely. I started rewatching the series when it ran on BBC America, enjoying the first two seasons again. I’d actually never stopped thinking about Mulder and Scully; I just lost the time to write about them, until two years ago, when I managed to land some long-term funding so I wasn’t staying up nights writing proposals every few months. I’d have a thought about how to advance the story that became Chermera, so I’d make a mental note and play with it in my head. I also have two more novels and a satyr play left to go in the sequence of stories I want to write, so I’m turning over plot-lines and potential arcs in my head all the time. Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom? I do read X-F fan-fic. Since the series has wandered so far away from what engaged me, and most fan-fic keeps up with that, I don’t read very much. As far as other fandoms, one was enough. Do you have any favorite X-Files fan-fic stories or authors?

Reaching back into the dark ages, I’d say Pellinor and Nascent. They may both be available on Gossamer. [Lilydale note: Fortunately, they are!] What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise? Zurvan is the favorite of my older stories. It, like Twelfth Night (Denha on AO3 to avoid confusion with another X-F story named Twelfth Night), builds on the past stories in their trilogies and brings the overall arc to new places. It’s fun to uncover surprises when writing and develop challenges to address in the future, which both of those stories did. Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

I’d certainly like to. I had planned to write three trilogies with their satyr plays, each of them focusing on an aspect of the mythical Triple Goddess: Maiden, Matron, and Crone, in the X-F universe. Only, being me, I turned it around. Sandra Ann Miller (Samantha) is the Maiden, but I’ve just started telling that part of the arc with the transitional Anath and the first trilogy story Chermera. I’m approaching this trilogy as a coherent tale spread across the three novels, which is different from the other two. The Caroline Lowenberg Trilogy didn’t really get organized until Twelfth Night. It was only the third story I’d ever written, so perhaps I can be excused. The Dana Scully Trilogy was all interconnected, but that was more of an organic, rather than a pre-planned and deliberate, effort. I didn’t really grasp the full arc of what I was creating there until I was writing Chermera and looked back over the threads running from Rustic Suite through Anath. The next story in the Sandra Ann Miller Trilogy involves the exposure of the Japanese arm of the Consortium, but, I need to read up on Japanese history, myths and legends, and world view before I write it. After finishing and posting Chermera, that’s what I’ve been doing. The conflict between Amaterasu, the Sun goddess, and her ne’er-do-well brother Susanoo-no-Mikoto, the god of, among other things, storms, marriage, and love, as told in the Kojiki and the Nihongi (both written down in their near-final forms at the same time as we in the West were just recording the first skeletal versions of the Arthurian Legends), will definitely get worked into the Sandra Ann Miller Trilogy. I’m starting to put the arcs and plot-lines together, but, I’m not ready to begin writing yet. Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work? As I’ve discussed, I do. Part of why I take my time is because Mulder and Scully are owed real, challenging cases to solve - the two intelligent agents with their own approaches, strengths, and weaknesses, remember. Partly, because I have original fiction ideas I’d like to pursue. Trying to do the best I possibly can in the sheltered world of X-F where I attempt to create stories with universal themes, well-realized settings, coherent plot-lines, and original characters who resonate with my readers is practice for the original fiction. I’ll never write the Great American Novel (whatever that is), but I’d like to write stories that are as good as I can make them and fun for my readers, so I keep plugging. Where do you get ideas for stories? Reading and thinking, mostly. I try to look for ideas that haven’t been done to death, or different approaches to old themes. I have four original novels I scribble mental notes on. After I bring this myth-arc I’ve been working on to its (to me) logical resolution, I hope I’ll be able enough of a writer to get started on them. What's the story behind your pen name? Actually, it’s my real name. At the time I started writing, I didn’t think to do anything else. On ATXC and Gossamer, I wrote several of the shorts that are separate from the Kuxan Sum Cycle under the pen name Lise Meitner. She was a Twentieth Century theoretical physicist who explained nuclear fission, then was cut out of a Nobel prize because the judges of her day thought Marie Curie and Irene Joliot-Curie were “enough” women physicists working in radioactivity to be so honored. [Lilydale note: here’s her Wikipedia page. Among many other fascinating things talked about there, she was nominated for the Nobel Prize 48 times in two different categories and had the 109th chemical element, meitnerium, named after her. She also escaped Nazi Germany in a plot involving trains, boats, planes, and an emergency diamond ring. You really ought to read about her.] Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

I’d shared the first five of my novels with my family back in 1996. They liked them, my sister especially. I’m not sure they knew what to make of them. I haven’t shown them to my in-laws, but, I think my sister-in-law found them on her own. We haven’t discussed them, as they aren’t her usual preference, which is Romance. One distant blood relation was thrilled to discover them on-line and wrote me about them. My sister, though, is my (self-admitted) biggest fan. When we were kids, she and I shared a bedroom, where I’d make up stories to tell her at night so she could fall asleep. She and I correspond regularly by E-mail (she’s in Florida and I’m in Maryland). Back while I was working my way through Chermera, she asked out of the blue if I was ever going to write any more. She was thrilled to hear I had been but she doesn’t have regular Internet access other than at her job. I made printed, bound copies of all my stories to mail to her last Christmas. She loves them, bless her. Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

I’ve sent Chermera to Gossamer, but, it hasn’t been updated since July 2018. All the rest of the stories are there.

At AO3, my stories are under: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrkeller. The Kuxan Sum Cycle is linked together at: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1555492.

I’ve published the Lise Meitner stories under my own name there: Faustus Mulder; Late Night Thoughts on Evolution, Hard Times, and Lost Pets; You Just Don’t Understand; and Lux Perpetua. Since I could separate out the trilogies into their own cycle, it just made sense.

At fan-fiction.net, they’re under: https://www.fanfiction.net/~maryruthkeller

Again, the Lise Meitner stories are under my own name. Since fanfiction.net doesn’t have a linked series option like AO3, I’ve added a header to all eleven of the stories in the Kuxan Sum Cycle so far explaining the order. The novels all are tagged with thumbnail versions of the covers I made for them. Also, the literary quotes I started each chapter and begin and end each story with, are kept in the AO3 versions, but are removed at fanfiction.net to avoid potential copyright issues. Shakespeare, Christine de Pisan, the Popol Vuh, the Ugaritic myths around Anath, and others are all long out of, or never were in, copyright, of course, but, just to be on the safe side, I’m following fanfiction.net’s rules.

If folks care to write, I’m still at my old eclipse address: mrkeller@eclipse.net. Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

Enjoy it, use it as an opportunity to make connections and expand your horizons as a storyteller. Fan-fiction was much more of a home-grown effort back in the 90’s than it is now, when there are how-to books, of all things. But, don’t get so wrapped up one forgets about real life. That’s where all the best stories are.

(Posted by Lilydale on October 27, 2020)

[anokaiwritingblog]

Oh hey. I forgot I have a writing blog. Here’s a WIP of my short story collection for my creative writing class. It’s a WIP for one of my major ideas I want to do.

Once every century, it is said that the planets of the solar system align perfectly. In a perfect row, they cast upon the ultimate shadow upon one another; opening the gates to other realms far from our own. It was said that the fallen god rose from this gate and set his sights on destroying our system just like his own. But where evil went, goodness was sure to follow. Out from this gate came the Holy Maiden and her summoned knight. Together, they sealed away the fallen god and cast light back into our system. The two understood that the battle was far from over. “Catch a fish for a man, he would eat for a day. Teach the man how to fish, and he eats for a lifetime.” Despite their love for each other, the Holy Maiden and her summoned knight agreed to go on separate pilgrimages to spread their teachings. The Holy Maiden remained in our system and founded us, the Holy Order, to pass on her teachings and traditions to future Holy Maidens. Her summoned knight, on the other hand, returned into the gate and spread his words to the numerous realms behind the gate. With their sacrifice, we have prevented the fallen god’s awakening over a thousand times…​

“Ay yo… so, like… cool lore but like… pretty cringy not gonna lie. You lost me at the “aligning of the planets” bit. It went from horoscope bullshit to cliched pre-teen novels with a bit of a JRPG elements in there,” a voice spoke out, breaking the breathtaking spell that weighed heavy in this beautifully painted dream.

The wind blew soft through the empty courtyard as no one said anything. In a walled-off garden stood seven bodies, each facing each other in a circle with a pond that separated each figure. Each stood on their own path that was surrounded by the water on each side but behind. A mini pier if you wish to imagine. The water was clear, yet the light was too blinding to see past the surface. All seven figures were outlined well enough to show that they were all women, yet a shadow covered their faces to remain a mystery to one another. Sitting above all this was a pink-haired woman. Her hair was braided back and looked far too youthful to be talking like an elder. Her prink eyes scanned each woman to search for the back talker, a glare like a dagger and on edge. Despite that, she kept an icy façade.

“Who cut me off? Head Nun of the Holy Order?” the pink-haired woman spoke up, looking down at the crowd of women below her.

“Uh, me.”

Slicing through the air, the Head Nun’s eyes locked on to the woman who spoke up; her hand raised slightly while maintaining the image of being smaller than what she was. Her limbs were tightly held together like a defensive turtle yet flashing a Chester cat grin in reception of the attention. “No offense lady but I felt like I heard this exact same plot with some gacha game I played last month. Can we just skip all this tutorial nonsense to get to the fuckin’ point already?” the woman continued, her blunt and straightforward words not matching the lowkey appearance she was trying to give off.

“Oh! You played Fate/Grand Order too? I’ve been trying to pull Gilgamesh for my team for months,” the woman on the right of the back talker chimed in. Though she was covered in shadow, the third party was animatedly clapping her hands together in excitement that she found a companion who played the same game.

“Eh, I stopped after two months. The drop rates are insane for that game and you don’t get enough of the in-game currency. I prefer Epic Seven since you actually win the gamble in summoning a strong hero-“

“Silence!”

Slamming her hand against the armrest of her chair, the Head Nun demanded all attention back onto her. The sound of flesh against marble echoing throughout this supernatural courtyard. Zeroing in out the outlier, the Head Nun sized her up before letting out a scoff. Receiving this judgmental look was a young woman of 21 years. If she never stood by herself, she might have blended in with a crowd with her rather ordinary looks. Brown hair, matching brown eyes, and a pair of glasses. Tell that description to any sketch artist and they would draw any other woman. One in five women look exactly like her. Was that statistically correct? Of course not, but most would believe it these days.

The nun craned her neck over these seven girls, peering down with arrogance. Who would have thought that the bold one in this group wasn’t the goth but this… loser. Despite not being affected by the spell, the rebel was overseen like the shadow of her chair or the tree’s. “Are you done speaking over me?”

“No, actually. You aren’t hurrying the fuck up and you rudely cut me off from having a pleasant and stimulating conversation from my neighbor here,” the woman said, “If you aren’t going to tell me what my horoscope is, I don’t want to hear another hour of lore.” From her sides, the woman could hear the reactions from the other girls who listen in to this back and forth. Some ‘tsk’ from her disrespectful actions while others acted a bit shocked. Of course, there were those who snickered from the show while one seemed to be rather disinterested. Tough crowd… To be fair, she wasn’t normally as blunt as she was today. She knew when to keep things to herself but quite frankly, this lady was going on for the last hour about prophecies and cosmic evils. This nun sounds like those writers who only focus on worldbuilding and not writing their story.

“Hurry up? We’re talking about the end of the world- YOUR world. This “lore” is vital. People’s lives are at stake with this information, Two,” the Head Nun said.

“Shit, really? Then why don’t you act it? Literally… no agency. This is the part where a creative writing teacher tells you “show don’t tell”,” Two answered right back; sarcasm dripping from every syllable. She wanted to correct the hag. Her name was Mia, but she understood there was anonymity for a reason. She was tactless, not stupid. Well, Mia would argue she had some tact, but her patience ran thin do this grossly, mishandled magic society. She thought those campy young adult books with groups run by idiots were meant to be… you know, fiction?

It all started right when Mia got to bed. She just got home from a long shift at work and all she wanted was nothing more than lay in bed. And that she did once she took an evening shower before bed. It was normal, everyday stuff for the third-year college student. She had school tomorrow and Mia just wanted to rest her aching body. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she opened her eyes to a completely new world. Looking around, she found herself not alone. There was one other person with her face covered and the pink-haired woman as well. Mia was greeted as “Two” and was told to wait for the other five to show.

That was an hour wasted in waiting and add in the additional hour for the hefty speech, we got our recipe for an irritated Mia. She didn’t go to bed just to stand up for two hours for some fantasy bullshit. Any other time? Sure. It’s cool. But now??? WHEN SHE HAS A TEST TOMORROW?! INCONVENIENT! It killed Mia since this was pretty fucking cool and different from the norm. Everyone dreams of being picked the chosen one but, come on… this was too predictable. If you read a fantasy book or consumed any fantasy media before, then you know what’s going on.

“Rude child. This information isn’t something as trivial as a novel,” the Head Nun spoke, looking down at Mia like a haughty teacher.

“I’m gonna assume that we’re all candidates in being chosen as the new Holy Maiden. We chose our knights or whatever. Compete and whoever wins must reseal the fallen god then tada! Happy ending! Yay!” Mia said. She even raised her hand at the ‘yay’ portion of her phrase. “Listen dude, I play too many games and read a shit ton of books for this. Can we please not do this while I’m in my pajamas?” Mia said, practically begging to be released from this mild inconvenience.

“… You guys weren’t exactly chosen. The universe brought you to us…” the Head Nun spoke, not really arguing with what Mia said. There was a cocky grin on Mia’s face as she just couldn’t help but find it funny how she got some otherworldly person tongue-tied.

“A lottery system huh… sounds about right. An NPC like me wouldn’t be chosen normally… I’m way too smart to be a main character,” Mia thought. She glances to the side for a moment before back on the show.

“Well… I’ll work with Two on this point and speed things up. Time is of the essence,” the head nun spoke, acting as if she was graciously fulfilling Mia’s wish. At this point, Mia didn’t care. Whatever helped the nun feel powerful or whatever… “As Two pointed out, all seven of you are candidates for becoming the new Holy Maiden. You will come into this realm three times a week for your lessons to strengthen your magic and during your regular days of the week, you seven will compete with one another. Your knights are the extension of your magic. When one knight trumps the other, they prove you are the strongest magic user and your defeated candidate is knocked out of the running. This continues until the last one is standing,” the nun explained, “We have hidden your faces and names from each other to keep you guys from cheating and attacking each other when you aren’t ready for combat. If you wish to fight, it’s up to you guys to discuss how to go about it.”

“A battle royal? I thought dystopian novels where kids kill each other in a game was out of fashion? I mean- they already got the Mirai Nikki vibe with the covered faces in the central hub…” Mia thought. She laughed under her breath with mild amusement at the situation. She decided to keep her thoughts hidden now as she surveys the competition. She wasn’t sure if she was going to take this seriously, but she thought she should start hiding her thoughts on the matter now. “The Head Nun never said we couldn’t figure out each other’s identity and jump them… nor any etiquettes of battle… how curious,” she continued her train of thought as she waited for the nun to finish.

“We’ll now do the summoning ritual. One, please kneel down and place your hand into the water to help your knight rise,” the Head Nun spoke. One looked around confused by the order, but she soon nervously did as she was told. She knelt and placed her hand inside. There was a good pause before One jolted. Slowly, One stood up to her feet as a tall figure rose from the water. Just like the girls, his face was hidden from everyone else but his master, no doubt. But his figure was very much noticeable.

“YO! Did you just summon a furry?!” Mia exclaimed before bursting out laughing. She pointed a finger at the girl next to her in a mocking fashion. While she couldn’t see the competition, Mia could at least see a pair of fuzzy dog ears on the knight’s head. But despite her words, Mia knew that, realistically, this knight was most likely a beast man or even a werewolf. She simply didn’t want to lose this chance to taunt her competition.

“Two! Please restrain yourself and respect your fellow maidens and their knights,” the Head Nun spoke. The pink-haired woman coughing into her hand to break up the interaction. “Now, for the love of God. Please shut up, kneel, and summon your knight.”

“Damn, at least ask for my consent before forcing me on my knees,” Mia muttered before kneeling as instructed. She felt rather stupid but seeing how the first maiden got a knight, Mia decided to just trust the action. She submerged her hand in the opaque lake. It was wet alright. Yet despite being in spitting distance to the surface, Mia couldn’t see past her reflection. “Come on RNG don’t fail me now. A hot guy would do wonders for my mental health,” Mia joked, “I hope re-rolls are free.”

On the edge of non-existence and existence, a subconscious mind rose to consciousness once more. He drowns in nothingness and breaths in hopelessness.

There was no sky nor ground to define his abysmal prison. Not even a memory to keep him company.

A hand reached out from above. A hand surrounded by light and a promise of warmth. He attempted to reach for it, yet he was restricted from moving and was forced to watch another steal the opportunity from the shadow. He watched the pair of hands meet and just like that, the light was gone.

He sank deeper into the depths of this unholy waiting room.

Yet again, a hand was extended from the dark with the temptation of freedom. Cautious to reach for it after the first time, he looked around for others who wished to take it. Many came and all walked away. No one wanted to take this hand.

He made an attempt to take it, if only to escape, but found that he was unable to pry himself free. Defeated, he decided to give up on the opportunity. It was pointless anyways.

Left unheld, the hand does not reel empty handed. No. Instead, it curled its fingers until one finger remained up.

One big ‘fuck you’.

What the fuck? So much for an inviting presence. Who did this person think they are? It wasn’t like he didn’t try to take their hand. But seeing this middle finger dangling in front of him like a fishhook with bait, he reached for it once more to drag the hand down into the depths with him. He was tied in place but after some furious tugs, he was freed with a pop.

Taking the hand, it became evident that the one getting snatched wasn’t them but him. Curled fingers shifted forms into a vice grip around his wrist upon skin contact. The dark veil that covered him were ripped off in that instance. Lights, sounds, textures, tastes, and smells flooded his senses as he became a person once again.

Planting both feet on the ground, Mia used both hands to reel up her prey. This summoning was nothing graceful like the girl next to her. It was primal and chaotic as Mia’s partner was floundering under the water. So much for a knight in shining armor. This guy isn’t fighting any dragons anytime soon if he’s having difficulty wrestling against an inanimate substance.

Letting out a battle cry, Mia used all her strength to bring her knight to the surface and onto the pier with her. It wasn’t his entire body but enough of it was on land that it was easier to drag the rest of him out with less trouble. Mia fell backwards on her butt and was slightly out of breath after that intensive ritual. Shiiiit. Carrying a body is a lot harder than it looks kids! Don’t trust what you see on TV. The more you knowミ★

Mia was the image of ‘tired’ with her slightly flushed cheeks and skewed. Fanning herself, she patiently waited for the man she pulled out to make the first move, yet he was belly-down, still as a door nail. For someone who had a lot of energy to fight against help, he suddenly became as complacent as a kitten.

Oh fuck... he isn’t dead, is he? Cause that’ll be pretty awkward ngl ┐(´-｀)┌

Mia leaned forward to inspect what she pulled out. She lifted his pale arm to search for a pulse. It was cold to the touch and she couldn’t tell if the steady thud she felt was his or an echo of her own. Upon letting it go, it limply fell to the ground with no flinch from him. Crap. Don’t tell her that she accidentally pulled out a dead body?! Well, Mia knew that pulling trash can happen during fishing mini games but she thought that this more of a “guarantee knight summoning” deal. Mia refused to believe that she waited five humiliating minutes waiting just to pull out a corpse. She wants a refund, god damn it!

Moving his head, Mia planned to check his pulse from his neck to double check if he was dead. There was no resistance in the action, yet she found herself meeting a pair of responsive red eyes peaking from between snowy white hair. The two of them stared at each other for a moment as they both seemed like caught criminals in the middle of a crime. The man’s chest raised up and down as he breaths; a piece of evidence that doesn’t escape Mia’s attention. He’s…

“HE’S HOT!!!”

Scrambling to her feet, Mia put both her hands in the air and let out her victory screech to the worried silhouettes surrounding her. No wait- she should be yelling how he was alive, not his appearance. Yet here she was, doing a victory dance on top of her knight in a pair of polka dotted pajamas. Give her a pitchfork and a tail then you got the image of an imp dancing on a grave. “Bro! He’s so hot... Edward Cullen lookin’ ass- I mean, not like the musty looking Robert Patterson version but how you imagine he look like based on the description,” Mia explained to anyone listening with a wildly inaccurate and vague description of the man. She waved her arms animatedly as she gossiped with her peers with the person in question crawling to his feet.

“Dude, that should be the last of your concerns,” Five said.

“I think you should make sure he’s okay…” Seven said, joining Five in expressing concern.

“Whoa there! You can’t really blame my maiden here for getting hung up on my dashing good looks. Dead or alive, you’ll notice my face first before anything else.”

Laying a heavy hand on Mia’s right shoulder, the man wrapped his arm around the woman to stand in solidarity it her. Surprised by the action, Mia tilt her head to the side to look at her knight to judge which side he was playing on. She locked eyes with him once more but not on accident this time. His touch was uncomfortable, yet she doesn’t push him away. They were a pair of souls with two different goals yet had a silent agreement to meet in the middle for the moment.

“Good to see you again, Catherine. You hardly look over two thousand years old,” Mia’s knight said, being the first to break their line of sight to look at the Head Nun. The nun sneered as the source of her stress doubled over the course of ten minutes.

“Ashley…” the Head Nun said, nearly hissing out the name. Her knuckles were turning white due to how tightly she held onto her armrest.

“Ash,” he corrected her, with equal amount of distaste in return. Ash was smiling but he on edge just like the Head Nun. But this rivalry was interrupted when Mia pinched Ash’s hand to catch his attention. He looked back down to receive Mia’s disapproving expression at his brief quip with the Head Nun. It seemed hypocritical that Mia was suddenly policing his attitude considering she was flaunting on the competition, but Ash clocked on what’s making her step in. “It’s okay,” Ash said, leaning down to whisper into Mia’s left ear, “This was just between me and her. No one heard me use my name. Not like it matters.”

“I’m just disappointed that you don’t have a chainsaw arm,” Mia whispered back, pretending she never had that concern by throwing out a seemingly random thought. Ash stared at her as if she was insane and as if to say ‘what are you talking about’ with expressions alone. “What? You never seen the Evil Dead franchise?” Mia whispered, “Not a fan of zombies movies?”

“You watched me rise from the depths, fight other knights, and you’re asking me if I’ve seen a movie?” Ash said, in disbelief at her question yet finding himself amused by it at the same time.

“I take it that you don’t have Netflix in the void then.”

Watching the duo snicker and conspire with each other like a pair of high school delinquents, the Head Nun rubbed her forehead as a migraine began to surface. She was losing control once again thanks to double trouble. Even the other girls who were patiently waiting began talking among each other. “Oh my god… like I thought, this was the worst combination I’ve ever seen in my lifetime…,” the Head Nun muttered to herself. She covered her face as she shook her head slowly as if she was contemplating something. “I didn’t realize it would be this bad… Out of all the times for that guy to make an appearance, he had to end up with her,” she continued muttering before ultimately lifting her head to look down at Mia and her summoned knight. The Head Nun needed to separate them. “Ah, Two? I don’t mean to disturb your… fun. But you summoned one of the more… troublesome knights considering his background. I’ll allow you to “re-roll”. How does that sound?” the Head Nun spoke, her voice sickening sweet and obviously fake.

Mia and Ash quickly turned to look at each other for how their partner would react. They wordlessly conversed with Mia gesturing the two of them then to the Head Nun. Ash’s only reply was an uncaring shrug but ended up nervously shaking off the water that stuck to his hair to appear distracted. “Yeah… no deal, Howie Mandel,” Mia said, trailing off for a moment to gauge last minute expressions from Ash before turning her full attention on the Head Nun. “You doing that makes me want to stick with Mr. Abominable Albino even more,” she said.

“Abominable Albino?” Ash said. He had a hand over his chest and appeared almost offending by the alliteration. He was hardly offended by being called such a thing but the fact that Mia wasted a braincell to make an awful pun in the middle of a fantastical end-of-the-world scenario.

“Whenever some untrustworthy figure makes some inflammatory comment about one of the leads, they’re obviously doing that to cause aa divide between the leads for their own benefit,” Mia continued as she ignored Ash’s offense to her words. She waved her hand in the air as if to disperse the fog of misinformation. “You even had a mini aside moment where you muttered to the readers that there’s something more about Ash!”

“Pardon?”

The Head Nun looked completely lost as Mia’s rambling turned to the meta and spoke about invisible audience members. But just like Ash, Mia ignored her words to continue her spiel. “And even if he’s a piece of shit. Worthless. Good for nothing. Pathetic. Dead weight. Only a pretty vase-“

“Okay. I think she gets it already,” Ash said, cutting in as the terms began to pile in his heart. He squeezed Mia’s shoulder to have her move on to the point.

“I will never give him up,” Mia said.

“And... why is that?” the Head Nun asked, wringing her dress in fear that Mia figured something out that she wasn’t supposed to.

“Because he is hot. I made that pretty clear since the beginning,” Mia said. She held her head high and mighty with not even a hint of shame. For a moment, Ash was about to feel touched by Mia coming to his defense. Touched enough that it would make him loyal to her and act as a spark to a turbulent but heartfelt young adult love story which would turn into a mildly popular trilogy with an eventual movie deal before fading into obscurity. But the curtains closed on that sparkling yet oddly specific future as Ash realized that he was stuck with the weird kid. “I mean- I guess I value him as a person too… or something. Power of belief or whatever inspirational term author’s like to use to tug on heartstrings.”

[peterspideyy]

just a fan

summary- what’s the worse that can happen when tom stumbles upon your fan account on tumblr?

warnings- fluff, swear words, sexual comments?

————

tom didn’t know how he got onto tumblr. you can’t blame him though. quarantine has got him doing stuff he’s never thought of doing before. he was on tumblr, reading fanfiction. or more specifically, fanfiction about him.

if his mates saw what he was doing, they would never let him live it down. he wouldn’t if one of them was doing it. but, something about how millions of people wrote about him made him so intrigued. he’s addicted.

his favourite ones are the stories about his characters. mainly peter parker. it reminds him of how he was like in high school. socially awkward around his crush. rambling when nervous. everything people where saying, was spot on.

see when tom finds something, he doesn’t stop. so, he must of read thousands of imagines across millions of accounts. every second of the day, whenever tom found time, he was on tumblr, reading. he actually made an account (without giving away who he was) to follow and like his favourite accounts and stories. he jumped around numerous of blogs, until he found yours.

something about yours, intrigued tom. the way your wrote about him, captivated his attention. how you described his actions and feelings, made tom swoon in awe at you. he was falling in love with a tumblr account. and he didn’t know your name. unless your name was ilovetomholland, based off your username.

so, tom did what any normal guy would do. he texted you. tom has done some pretty nerve wracking things in his life, but texting you was the most nerving.

hey :) i love your account!

tom sighed. is this a good first impression? according to your caption, you were 22. but, you could be saying that. minutes went by, and a notification went off. it couldn’t be. tom scrambled to unlock his phone to see if you replied.

hey! thank you so much, that’s so sweet of you!

it was you. you replied.

no worries, i’m stanley by the way!

tom laughed. hopefully, you won’t find out who he is.

i’m y/n!

weeks passed, and you and ‘stanley’ had became internet best friends, by sharing your love for marvel and tom. well, maybe only you loved tom. but you didn’t have to know that, you were infact texting tom holland.

tom does feel bad. whenever, you text about how much you love tom holland, he whinces. he can’t imagine, the amount of embarrassment and pain you will feel when you find out that you’ve been texting your favourite actor all this time.

there’s been so many times, when he has typed out ‘funny you say that, because i am tom holland’, with his finger hovering over the send button, but quickly deleting it. so many times, he’s wanted to tell you the truth. but it’s nice. it’s nice to talk to someone, who doesn’t know who you really our. to you, ‘stanley’ is a normal person. tom likes that.

months passed, and you and tom have became extremely close. the coronavirus has gone, and you really want to meet ‘stanley’. tom does too, but he’s scared on your reaction.

“mate, i forgot to tell you, but my cousin is coming in today, and she’s bringing her friend with her. they’re both going to be staying with us for a week or so.” harrison spoke, bringing tom out of his thoughts about you.

“oh, that’s fine,” tom replied, not really caring about what his best mate was saying, “what do they look like?”

harrison scrolled for a bit, clearly trying to find a photo of the two people, while tom waited for a reply from you.

“here they are.” harrison spoke, holding his phone towards tom.

tom looked up briefly, “oh they’re nice- WAIT!”

he couldn’t believe it. you were the friend. it was you. of course, over the months of talking you have sent photos of you, while tom sent photos of random people from instagram. sounds bad but, what else could he do?

“wait, you know y/n?” harrison questioned, pointing at you on the screen. tom sighed heavily. maybe this was the time he told harrison what he’s been doing.

“so, you have been reading fan fiction about yourself, and found this blog and y/n runs it? and you’ve been texting for months? does she know who you are?” harrison finally spoke, after taking in all the information tom just said.

“yes, yes, and no.”

“mate, you’ve gotta tell her!” harrison shouted in disbelief, shaking tom to get him to realise what he needs to do.

“she’ll be shocked enough when she comes here, and see’s me! does she even know i live with you?”

“well, not exactly. i don’t think she knows i live here either.”

“so she’s going to a place where she doesn’t even know who lives there?”

“can’t be worse than speaking to her for months, and not knowing who they are texting!” harrison shouted back.

“fine, you win.” tom exclaimed, throwing his hands up.

harrison laughed, “of course my cousin knows who i am, but i think if she tells y/n then she will act all weird y’know? especially when she finds out her favourite actor and his best friend is going to be at the house they’re living in.”

“when is she coming?” tom inquired, bitting the inside of his cheek.

“err, tonight?” harrison mumbled, unsure on how tom was going to react.

“TONIGHT?!” the actor exclaimed, tugging at his hair slightly. he couldn’t believe this.

“more like, in a couple of hours?”

“you’ve got to be shitting me! why have you only told me about this, now?!”

“i forgot!” harrison responded, shrugging slightly.

tom groaned loudly, leaving the living room to go to his bedroom. what will your reaction be? will you find out that he’s stanley? his thoughts got stopped, when a notification went off. he looked at his phone, to see that you texted him.

you’ll never believe what’s happening! i’m going to be landing in london in a few hours! hopefully we’ll see each other ;)

tom gulped. you certainly will see each other.

hours passed, and tom was pacing around the living room, nervously. harrison sat on the couch, watching his best friend, literally fall to pieces.

“tom, i’m not joking, if you walk around one more time i’m going to knock you out.” harrison joked, but it was laced with seriousness. tom huffed, sitting beside him.

ding dong

”harrison, i can’t do this.” tom panicked, shaking slightly as he stood up going to the window. there you where. standing outside his house.

“just go and answer the fucking door!” harrison belted, jumping up and down. he was so excited to see how you would react.

tom glared at him, before unlocking the door with a big smile on his face, “hey!”

when you saw who opened the door, you couldn’t believe your eyes. the tom holland was in front of you. you couldn’t breath. this can’t be happening right now. never in a million years, would you expect to see him. sure, you were hoping to casually meet him in the streets in london, but never ever in the house you were staying.

“hey tom! hi harrison!” your friend spoke, giving them both hugs while you stood there, with your mouth open wide.

“you must be y/n?” tom spoke, trying to hide his nerves from you and to hide the fact that he knows you personally.

“y-yes. and you’re, tom holland.” you laughed in disbelief, giving your friend the look.

“sorry to disappoint you.” tom stuttered.

“not disappointed at all, just shocked i guess.” you smiled, awkwardly hugging tom and harrison like what your friend did.

you both went inside, while harrison gave you both a house tour and said where you were sleeping for the next week or so. you and your friend both unpacked, while you were literally freaking out to her that you and tom holland were in the same house. tom heard the whole conversation, from the hallway, smiling to himself. maybe he won’t tell you about ‘stanley’, until the week is up.

ding

tom jumped, when his phone boomed a notification. he quietly looked at his phone, to see you texted him.

you will never believe who i’m living with!

“hello?” you spoke into the hallway.

“h-hi y/n!” tom replied, waving slightly.

“your phone went off as soon as i texted someone you know.” you laughed, still in shock that you were talking to tom holland. you were both so engrossed in each other, you never noticed that your friend left.

“y-yeh. instagram.” he replied awkwardly. hopefully you won’t think much of it? you smiled slightly, before typing on your phone again. shit.

tom’s phone went off again as soon as you hit send. you looked at him, confusion wrote all over your face, causing tom to blush massively.

“p-probably instagram again!” he mumbled.

you typed again, keeping your eyes on him, while you clicked send again. when you heard tom’s phone go off again, you gasped.

“y-your, i-it’s you?” you couldn’t form words. embarrassment filled you instantly, covering your whole body. you wanted to cry, at how stupid you have been. the amount of times you said ‘i want tom holland to raw me’ makes you cringe massively.

“right y/n, i can explain.” tom gulped. this wasn’t going to end well.

“n-no, i think i need some air.” you whined, briskly walking out of the door, to go into the garden.

“y/n! wait.” tom immediately followed after you, while you ignored him. tears threatened to fall, as you were hit with sunlight. you walked over to the swing, sitting down with your head in your hands.

“y/n? i’m so so sorry,” tom whispered, sitting down next to you, “i-i don’t know how i got onto reading imagines. or how i found you. but, i’m so glad i did. over time, i’ve fell in love with you. i’ve fell in love with how you write. i’ve fell in love with how you speak about me, without you knowing. i’ve fell in love with you. i know, i’m not stanley. but, it’s been so so nice and refreshing to talk to someone who doesn’t use me because of my fame. i know you won’t use me, but you wouldn’t of acted like yourself if you knew who i was. i wanted to tell you sooner, but when i found out you were coming, i was planning to tell you on your last night. but, i’m so glad you found out now. do you forgive me, darling?”

you sat up, cupping tom’s face before leaning in to kiss him deeply. tom melted at your touch. you pulled away, biting your lip as you lost yourself in his hazel eyes.

“i forgive you tom. but, i’m just so embarrassed! i said some weird shit about you.”

“it’s alright! it was quite funny actually.” tom replied, before smiling widely at you, leaning in to kiss you again. but, you stopped him.

“oh and, i love you too, stanley and tom.” you beamed, before crashing your lips to tom again.

maybe there is a pro about writing imagines.

————

a/n- hope you enjoyed this imagine! i wrote this at 1am, because idk i had an urge? chapter 2 for partners in crime will be up this week some time, but i’ll let you all know when :)

also, maybe this story is me letting y’all know that i am tom? i’m jk

unless....

[thealmightyemprex]

10 Favorite 50′s Sci Fi films

,I ADORE science fiction ,but the funny thing about Sci Fi is as a film genre it didnt really materialize til the 50′s,the golden age of sci fi(And yes there are a few sci fi films before then which I might do a list of eventually )..Sci fi is one of my favorite genres and 50′s Sci fi in particular I have a soft spot for

1.Invasion of the Body Snatchers

People are replaced by aliens.One of the most terrifying ideas to me is the idea of someone not being who they say they are  or being replaced or posessed by something malevolent .This is an intelligent and terrifying movie 

2.20000 LEagues Under The Sea

My absolute favorite Disney movie ,three men are taken prisioner aboard a Submarine by Captain Nemo .The cast which includes James Mason,Kirk Douglas and Peter Lorre is excelent ,Masons Nemo is an intriguing anti villain,the Natilus is a fantastic creation ,and it’s just a fun adventure film with some cool set pieces (Battle with a giant squid being my favorite )

3.The Incredible Shrinking Man

A man is exposed to radiation ,and is slowly shrinking.This is a very intelligent and rather dark film ,as the film chronicles a doomed man .I had to include a Jack Arnold film and of his work (Which includes Creature of the Black Lagoon) this is my favorite 

4.The Fly 

So a lot of people are more familiar with the remake ,and people have a lot of weird misconceptions about the original film .People assume it is a monster movie  and that Vincent Price plays a scientist,to which the answer of  both is  no.Vincent Price plays the brother of a scientist who has been murdered by his wife  .Confused and horrified by his sister in laws actions,and her obsession with a fly ,he eventually convinces her to tell the bizarre story of the events surrounding he husbands death.If you like the remake ,check out the original 

5.War of the Worlds

Martians attack the earth.I saw this film as a child and the manta ray inspired martain death machines always stuck with me.

6.Godzilla(1954)

A creature awakened by nuclear testing causes death and destruction.The one thing that can destroy it is the Oxygen Destoyer .....Buy the weapon maybe as deadly as Godzilla himself .This film really shows the horror of nuclear destruction and takes the premise of a rampaging monster super seriously 

7.The Day the Earth Stood Still

An alien named Klatuu comes to earth with a message for the world but is treated with mistrust and hostility .Aside from the robot  Gort the film doesnt contain much of the fantastical,being more about the idea of this visitor from another world interacting with ours .A very intelligent film

8.Forbidden Planet

A sci fi retelling of the Tempest ,Leslie Nielsen(YesTHAT Leslie Nielsen) leads a group of spce explorers to find a lost vessell to find the survivors being a scientist named Morbious (Played by Walter Pidgeon ) his  daughter (Ann Francis )  and their robot servant Robbie living comfortably on the planet,with the rest of their crew dying mysteriously and Morbious studying a dead alien civilization.The film isnt perfect (There is some 1950′s sexism which is ugh),but the effects are fantastic ,the cast is really good especially Nielsen as the captain ,the film contains a truly intriguing and frankly terrifying antagonist ,Robbie is lovable ,and you can definately see it’s influence on other science fiction stories ,the film is practically a prototype for Star Trek .

9.Them!

Giant ants are on the loose.Great cast ,quirky side characters,a sense of humor while also taking the threat  of the ants seriously ,this is a truly scary movie ,especially if you have a phobia of ants

10.When Worlds Collide

One of the earliest end of the world movies,as earth comes into contact with a rogue star ,with efforts made to transport an arc full of men and woment to a new planet .This is a really interesting movie and it has an interesting antagonis in the form of Stanton played by John Hoyt

[fictionalrambles]

Shadowhunters Fandom Story - Part Eight

Submitted by Contesse2020

Five Fave Fics:

Of Splendor in the Grass by @lecrit​

Why I love this fic: Lecrit was one of the first authors I read fan fiction from. And this one I read in the library at my University, it was packed with people because it was in the middle of exams, and students were stressing with catching up on their curriculum. I was sat in one of the comfy chairs beside a window with a beautiful view of campus covered in snow.

So, I read it in one go. And I just cried and cried, really trying not to have other students notice me. This struck a chord In me, reminding me how brutal history is and how many people around the world still struggle with something as basic as being allowed  to love. I love the authors way of driving the story forward through the protagonist inner life, there is a poetry in the way she writes. Cried some more because of the happy ending - dehydration was on my mind.

I have not dared reread it, the emotional reaction was so strong. I had to go through the fic and try and find some quotes:)

Fave Quotes: 

«Different would have to wait another life»

«Magnus kissed him, and all the poetry in the world paled in comparison. He was home. Free at last»

*

The Lonely Hearts Hotline by @unrestrainedlyexcessive​

Why I love this fic: This fic I have read more times than I care to admit - just love it.

It is actually kind of dark in the emotions and growth Alec goes through, but Fatale always highlight the difficulty with finding yourself.

And even though you reach «adulthood» you don’t need to have your shit together. Which is nice to read since I’m in my thirties and really don’t know anything, that I’m still learning who I am. Not to mention your own agency in your life - don’t let things just happen to you - be active.

The humor is exquisite, I’m laughing like a loon one minute and feeling emotional the next. And of course it is H-O-T as fuck.

The plot is original and fun, it kind of makes you cringe and think OMG Alec - love it. But also it is the nitty gritty of life.  

I really like the dialogue and that is what makes me laugh the hardest. So I will just quote some of those.

Fave Quotes: 

«Jace answers on the first ring. “Dirty Dan's Disposable Dildo Emporium. Suck 'em, fuck 'em, and chuck 'em. This is Dirty Dan speaking.”

“Ahoy, Mort’s Mortuary service. You kill ‘em, we grill ‘em.”

«Early adulthood is no man's land. You don’t have the experience to matter and no one wants to pay you to gain it (…)»

Ain`t that the truth....

*

A Tiny Spark by @magicandarchery​

Why I love this fic: This is my ultimate feel good fic <3 when ever I have read something angsty and painful, I return to this.

Magnus and Alec are in an established relationship trying to make a family, supporting each other - healthy and loving.

Absolutely loved it. We get a heartwarming glimpse into their lives with a newly «adopted» foster child, them being dads - I think I have to read it again, give me those warm and fuzzy feels, please.

Fave Quotes: 

“Just thinking,” Magnus answered, pushing a lock of Alec’s dark hair off of his forehead. Alec’s mouth twitched up at the corners as a sleepy smile played along his lips.

“About what?”

“You.”

“Care to share?” Alec’s eyes opened slowly, and Magnus’ breath caught in his chest the same way it had the first time they had met. Alec’s thumb grazed gently over the outside of Magnus’ hand, and Magnus felt a warm sense of calm spread through him as he entwined his fingers through Alec’s.

Magnus inhaled slowly, deeply. He waited for the flutters of uncertainty to fill him, but instead he felt a different kind of flutter, one of a deep, unending love. Magnus’ tongue darted out, wetting his dry lips, and he tightened his hold on Alec’s hand, centering himself.

When he spoke, Magnus’ voice was barely more than a whisper.

“Marry me?”

Magnus set his phone face down on the table as he spotted Alec and Jace a short distance away, walking toward him, dressed in dark pants and dark t-shirts with the FDNY crest on the chest. Magnus slipped his sunglasses down his nose slightly, a wicked smirk decorating his face when Alec approached the table.

“What’s that look for?” Alec asked, his brow furrowing curiously.

“Just appreciating my man in uniform,” Magnus answered innocently.

*

2C by Oumy

Why I love this fic: Did I mention how much I love a pining Alec? That combined with him being all snarky and (to a degree) self-confident is my holy grail. I love how Alec is portrayed in this, he is vulnerable and honest with his emotions. The way they needle each other is funny as hell. Two of my favorite quotes <3 the last one kicked me so hard in the feels.

Fave Quotes: 

So, there he stood, six foot three of fidgeting human, trying to figure out the right way to ask the love of his life to be his salvation.

They made it outside before Magnus got close enough to Alec’s sleeve and pulled him to a stop, and he wasn’t ready for Alec’s outburst as he turned to him and unleashed “You know what? You’re right. I’m done pretending. I’m done pretending like it’s okay that we take swipes at each other the moment something goes wrong. I’m done pretending like it doesn’t fucking kill me that every word out of my mouth is somehow the wrong one and that I can’t seem to catch a break when it comes to you. I’m done pretending like I hate you for the sake of crumbs of your attention. I’m done pretending like it doesn’t faze me when I have to play the role of the villain because for some reason, that was the only part you allowed me to play in your life. I’m done pretending like I don’t care, like my soul didn’t shrivel inside every time you mistook my reaching out to you for an attempt to fuck you over”

*

Love is a Gamble by @la-muerta​

Why I love this fic: This one is also a historic AU, since I’m a history nerd. A very angsty fic, and I’m here for it. Bring all the pain and all the feels.

I actually had to read «A Tiny Spark» right after - needed some fluff. My heart just broke for Alec and his struggle to accept his attraction to Magnus, so of course there is pining.

Also Izzy is so bad-ass in this, and I love it.

I just fell in love with all of the characters and their backstory. The plot is exciting, with action and the works - keeps you at the edge of your seat. But the best parts were Alec`s quotes - they did me in.

Fave Quotes: 

Alec shook his head, the violent movement reminding Magnus of a distressed horse. "You don't understand anything. I... There's something wrong with us. With me. You have bedded women - you have a choice in this."

"No, Alexander. There's nothing wrong with you, or with me. This is just the way we are, and the only choice I have in the matter is that I chose not to live a lie," Magnus told him firmly.

"When I confronted Aldertree, he asked me if I was a gambling man. I'm not - and never have been. And loving someone, for someone like me, is a bigger gamble than most. But there comes a point when a man's got to stop arguing with himself. I don't want to fight it anymore," Alec said, meeting Magnus' eyes squarely. "I'm not telling you this because I expect you to return my feelings. I know you don't feel that way about me. I just... never mind. I apologise if this has made things between us uncomfortable, I hope we can still be friends-"

[phantomofthepairofdice]

The Rosscars 2020

Wow. It’s that time of year again, only this time it’s different because it’s on a blog that no one will read! (hold for applause) Welcome to the first annual online publication for the Rosscars (hold for applause while the reader acknowledges how positively droll it is that I combined my name with “Oscars”). Who can forget such indelible Rosscar memories like when Steven Soderbergh surprised us all and won Best Director for Out of Sight or Bill Irwin’s beautiful speech upon winning Best Supporting Actor for Rachel Getting Married?! The Rosscars mean something different to everyone, but we all know that they mean quality choices made by a committee of one schmuck. This year’s Rosscars are bizarre because in an effort to be more like the Academy guidelines, film’s nominated have been released between January 1, 2020 and February 28, 2021. As usual, theatrical windows be damned, streamers are welcome. Of course, I have my gripes. I like categorizing movies by release year – specifically, when they become available to the plain old public like yours truly – not at festivals, limited runs in NYC and LA. Well, the Oscars are still weeks away and I feel like everybody wants to forget about last year and move onto this one that we’re already three months into - So here are my awards for the films, performers, and craftspeople that stood out in a pretty exceptional year for movies even though distribution was stranger than ever. 

**A few caveats and guidelines to Rosscar newcomers (which I imagine is just a formality since we all know the Rosscars so well)**

The rules and categories are a little different around here. First, not every category is honored directly. That’s for a few reasons, chiefly that I don’t feel qualified to reward the technical categories properly – I suppose I should say that I feel less qualified to do so than the “above the line” categories. In keeping with the Academy standard, there are five nominees in each category, except for Best Picture, Best Non-Fiction/Documentary Feature, and Best Ensemble Cast which allow up to ten. Every category, save those three, will have the possibility of honorable mentions, because I want to highlight some things that just barely missed the cut. The narrowing down of a lot of these categories was awfully tough.

Nominees are listed alphabetically, and the winners are in bold and italics.

Also, it’s important to keep in mind that I couldn’t see everything (this isn’t a job and it’s still $20 to rent The Father, y’all) and that these are just the opinions of one (self-described) “bozo on the internet.” If you’re a reader and have different picks, feel free to share!

Special Commendations for some things that I want to recognize: • Ludwig Goransson for his Tenet score which is an absolute banger • The costumes of Emma. (Alexandra Byrne), Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom (Ann Roth), and Small Axe (Jaqueline Durran, Sinéad Kidao, and Lisa Duncan) all struck me as exceptional • Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross with their scores for both Soul and Mank. Crazy that Pixar is working with the guy who made “Closer” • The cinematography of Da 5 Bloods (Newton Thomas Sigel), First Cow (Christopher Blauvelt), Beanpole (Kseniya Sereda), and A White, White Day (Maria von Hausswolff)

The Rosscars red carpet was, as usual, a bizarre affair. People filed into the theater and it seemed like the only encounters were awkward ones. Vin Diesel showed up in character as Bloodshot, Aaron Sorkin started getting really verbose about what a lovely night it was, and it became clear that most of the celebrities in attendance didn’t read their invitations closely enough to realize that this was not, in fact, the Academy Awards.

Everyone’s seated, and the show is under way. After a medley about the nominees this year by Common and Seth McFarlane that was more corny but clever than it was funny, the first official category is here, and the presenter is none other than... Ross!

Best Supporting Actor:

1. Chadwick Boseman for Da 5 Bloods

2. Matthew Macfadyen for The Assistant

3. Jesse Plemmons for Judas and the Black Messiah

4. Paul Raci for Sound of Metal

5. Glynn Turman for Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom

Honorable Mentions:

• Lucas Hedges for Let Them All Talk

• Orion Lee for First Cow

• Bill Murray for On the Rocks

Best Supporting Actress:

1. Vanessa Bayer for Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar

2. Candice Bergen for Let Them All Talk

3. Gina Rodriguez for Kajillionaire

4. Amanda Seyfried for Mank

5. Yuon Yuh-jung for Minari

Honorable Mentions:

• Jane Adams for She Dies Tomorrow

• Charin Alvarez for Saint Frances

• Talia Ryder for Never Rarely Sometimes Always

• Debra Winger for Kajillionaire

Everyone loves a montage. The audience gets comfortable in their seats as the video screens start to show a montage of some of the most famous moments from Hollywood’s most magical movies. Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers waltz, gliding across a dance floor like two hovering angels. There’s a clip of Leo declaring himself king of the world in Titanic, the flying bicycles in ET, Bogart stares longingly into Bacall’s eyes, and then there’s some scene where Tom Cruise rides a motorcycle from 2010′s Knight and Day. The audience all seems confused how that last one got in there. The John Williams music swells as little Kevin McAllister screams when puts on aftershave. We see clips of Robert De Niro in Taxi Driver, Carrie Fisher’s Princess Leia embrace Harrison Ford’s Han Solo, Bruce Lee smoothly declares that boards don’t hit back and... wait... was that a clip from Michel Gondry’s Green Hornet with Seth Rogen? And that’s a clip from What Happens in Vegas... Bad Teacher... Vanilla Sky... Shrek 2... Any Given Sunday... Everyone is flummoxed. The last clip fades out and a sole editing credit appears: Cameron Diaz. The lights come up and there’s some applause, but mostly confused murmurs. 

The ceremony has had a bit of a misstep, but nothing it can’t recover from, especially as the next category is announced over the PA, and it looks like the presenter is... Ross!

Best Ensemble Cast:

1. Bacurau

2. Da 5 Bloods 

3. Kajillionaire

4. Let Them All Talk

5. Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom

6. Minari

7. Nomadland

8. Pieces of a Woman

9. Small Axe

Best Original Screenplay:

1. Danny Bilson and Paul Dameo & Spike Lee and Kevin Wilmott for Da 5 Bloods

2. Lee Isaac Chung for Minari

3. Brandon Cronenberg for Possessor

4. Sean Durkin for The Nest

5. Kleber Mendonça Filho and Juliano Dornelles for Bacurau

Honorable Mentions – a very difficult task to weed this down to five.

• Shaka King and Will Berson for Judas and the Black Messiah, from a story by Kenny and Keith Lucas

• Steve McQueen, Alastair Siddons, and Courttia Newland for Small Axe

• Kelly O'Sullivan for Saint Frances

• Thomas Vinterberg and Tobias Lindholm for Another Round

Best Actor:

1. Ben Affleck for The Way Back

2. Chadwick Boseman for Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom

3. Delroy Lindo for Da 5 Bloods

4. John Magaro for First Cow

5. Mads Mikkelsen for Another Round

Honorable Mentions:

• Riz Ahmed for Sound of Metal

• John Boyega for Small Axe

• Daniel Kaluuya for Judas and the Black Messiah

• Hugh Jackman for Bad Education

• Ingvar Eggert Sigurðsson for A White, White Day

We have a break in the action and it looks like Darius Rucker has showed up to perform what he would have nominated for Best Original Song. The crowd is absolutely furious as he starts playing a song that apparently was in Trial of the Chicago Seven. An ocean of sonorous boos and curses overtakes the the once docile crowd. The Rock just ripped his chair from out of the ground. Jane Lynch somehow smuggled in a civil war era flintlock pistol that she’s now pointing at the stage! Suddenly, the crowd unifies around what started as a confident chant of one lone audience member - John C Reilly. It’s growing... Ja Ja Ding Dong, Ja Ja Ding Dong, Ja Ja Ding Dong - it’s like the macabre circus performers from Tod Browning’s Freaks, but instead of chanting “Gooble Gobble” they’re clearly pining for Darius to change his tune to the silly and delightful jam from Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga. Darius, scared for his life, leaves the stage, but here come Will Ferrell and Rachel McAdams to deliver the goods. Busy Philips and Michelle Williams burst into tears. Tom Hanks nods in approval. A segment saved by brave artists placating a toxic group of fans... we’ve just witnessed a live version of the Snyder Cut, folks.

Jack Nicholson seems completely unfazed, giving a thumbs up to the camera and blowing a kiss to the next presenter. Coming to the stage is... Ross... again...

Best Actress:

1. Jessie Buckley for i’m thinking of ending things

2. Carrie Coon for The Nest

3. Han Ye-ri for Minari

4. Sidney Flanagan for Never Rarely Sometimes Always

5. Vasilisa Perelygina for Beanpole

Honorable Mentions – these cuts were especially painful

• Haley Bennet for Swallow

• Morfydd Clark for Saint Maud

• Frances McDormand for Nomadland

• Christin Milioti for Palm Springs

• Geraldine Viswanathan for Bad Education

Best Adapted Screenplay:

1. Charlie Kaufman for i'm thinking of ending things from Iain Reed's novel

2. Sarah Gubbins for Shirley from Susan Scarf Merrell's novel

3. Kelly Reichardt and John Raymond for First Cow

4. Simon Rich for American Pickle from his short story "Sell Out"

5. Mike Makowsky for Bad Education from Robert Kolker's "The Bad Superintendent"

Best Non-Fiction/Documentary Feature:

1. Boys State

2. Collective

3. David Byrne’s American Utopia

4. Dick Johnson is Dead

5. Feels Good Man

6. In & Of Itself

7. The Painter and the Thief

8. Time

Jimmy Fallon has come out on stage to do a bit about the pandemic and watching movies at home. People are just absolutely not having it. He tries not to laugh at his own jokes while doing what I guess is technically a pretty good impression of Dr. Fauci interviewing James Corden as Martin Scorsese (the less said of this impression, the better) on what is or isn’t cinema. The bit doesn’t track and Fallon is absolutely tanking. The producers cut away from the stage to spare the viewers at home from this monstrosity. We see crowd shots of Millie Bobby Brown shaking her head in dismay, Colin Firth is simultaneously grimacing and trying to stave off laughter, Cynthia Erivo is texting, and director Tom Hooper is taking notes for his next film. Corden yells, “Carpool Karaoke! Remember?!” Ron Howard has fainted. This thing is almost completely off the rails.

Coming back to the stage is the next presenter, a clearly embarrassed... Ross! He’s in a total flop sweat, but stumbles his way through a joke about how Fallon should try co-hosting the Oscars with James Franco sometime. There are scant chuckles throughout a crowd that mostly just wants to see who won and go home.

Best Director:

1. Christopher Nolan for Tenet

2. Spike Lee for Da 5 Bloods

3. Steve McQueen for Small Axe

4. Kelly Reichardt for First Cow

5. Chloé Zhao for Nomadland

Honorable Mentions:

• Kitty Green for The Assistant

• Eliza Hittman for Never Rarely Sometimes Always

• Charlie Kaufman for i'm thinking of ending things

• Thomas Vinterberg for Another Round

Best Picture

1. Bacurau

2. Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar

3. Da 5 Bloods

4. First Cow

5. i'm thinking of ending things

6. Judas and the Black Messiah

7. Never Rarely Sometimes Always

8. Nomadland

9. Small Axe

10. Tenet

Accepting the award for best picture is none other than Eve, the cow actor who played the titular First Cow! The audience is enamored with how graceful she looks in her cow gown, and her speech, though indecipherable, is likely simple, observational, and deeply profound for those who speak cow.

Wow, what a ceremony! Hearts were broken, property was damaged, dreams were fulfilled... blood was shed? Damn it, Meryl Streep came in and mugged Charlie Kaufman before absconding with the trophy. Oddly, she’s a previous winner, so the attack isn’t out of need for hardware. People are reading through articles about production on Adaptation for potential motives. Streep made time for a photo opportunity, but remains at large.

I could go on ad infinitum about all of these nominees and winners themselves and why they did or didn’t make the cut, but that’d be better served in a different piece. For now, my thoughts on most of these can be found on the Best of 2020 write-up and over on my Letterboxd. And, as always, these awards can be revoked and redistributed at will, so don’t get too cozy with that statue, Danny Bilson!

On behalf of the RAOGL (Rosscars Association of One Guy at a Laptop), thanks for reading, and stay tuned as we’re establishing a tip line for anyone has seen Ms. Streep or her stolen valor Rosscar. We’ll see you next year. Keep watching movies, and keep arbitrarily quantifying them in terms of subjective quality!

[preathfics]

Heath17_KO5 AMA responses

Thanks to Heath17_KO5 for answering these for folks. 

You can reach her on the preathfics discord if you have follow up questions!

hardtchill said: mom will love us forever?

Yes, yes. *pat pat*

What inspired KO/Sonnett? I mean, we've seen Soran around, but not very many good Fics of that pairing.

That you can blame on blak0tyler. She started writing them, and I was like “I don’t really ship it because I think they’re too similar, but I love your writing, so I’ll read” and then by the end of the fic I was like “Damn, I kinda see it now.” I think for me it’s partially just that I really enjoy writing both characters (or did anyway). It’s fun to write characters that on the surface can be snide or sarcastic or goofy, but then underneath can have more layers and provide other things to a fic.

ARE YOU THE ANON SUMMER SHORTS???? 👀

Nope! Not me!

Will you write more angsty stuff? Bc you write wonderfully... but it's just all so damn happy!

Hi there musingpredeliction. I think it’s hard for me to have angsty ideas for Preath, and I’m likely to still have happy endings. I was just talking to someone last night about how real life can be hard and can suck so when I turn to fiction, I want it to at least be hopeful, to do things like make me believe in true love (though I am one of the lucky ones that has found that in real life), make me believe in happy endings and beautiful lives, make me believe in magic. If you’d like more angst, I suggest reading more of my Soran or So’hara

Favorite WOSO person IRL? Favorite one to write?

IRL? Idk. It’s hard to judge when I don’t actually know any in real life. Rose holds a special place in my heart. Tobin’s footwork is magic and her laid back, goofy personality makes me swoon. Christen is the epitome of beauty to me both physically and just who she is (or at least who she shows us publicly). I honestly love so many of them. Sonny, KO (yes, still, though I am disappointed and hope she learns and grows), Julie, CRYSTAL!! Moving on from the USWNT, I’m a big fan of Emily Menges (one of the league’s most underrated defenders), Simone Charley, Midge Purce, Jennifer Cujoe, Sarah Gorden, Yuki Nagasato, Casey Short, Ali Riley, the list goes on. Lol. And on a more international player level: Tiane Endler, Mapi Leon, Jenni Hermoso, Sam Kerr, Hayley Raso, (actually a bunch of the Aussies), Vivianne Miedema, and so many more.

Favorite one to write is a bit easier: Emily Sonnett.

is with fandom culture that she is having a problem or the preath fandom specifically? also, i really love her writing, for both preath and soran so i hope that, if she retires, she doesn't delete her work, please! and man, the kelley situation, it's been really hard for us readers and for the writers…

Here’s the thing: part of what I have a problem with about Kelley is the fandom’s response to her. I’m disappointed by her not kneeling. I think she really needs to have more hard conversations and examine why she stood apart from game one and hopefully learn and grow. I’m disappointed in the culture of cancelling someone because they don’t learn and grow on the timeline you see fit, though. That now people will write off entire stories because a CHARACTER version of Kelley (that the authors have created themselves, let’s not forget), is part of it even if those stories were begun before the tournament happened. That her kneeling or not discounts her skill on the field or her actions off the field that we’re unaware of. Again, we only see a part of them, what they publicly show us, and I am very disappointed that she didn’t show us her kneeling for the anthem beyond game one, but I’m also aware that she may be taking steps I have no idea about. I’m not trying to start a discourse, though I’m sure this will, but that’s part of my issue. And then there’s the trickiness that comes of being part of an RPS/RPF fandom, where there’s the distinction between fiction and reality, between what we’d like to be true and what we 100% know. I don’t mean to cast aspersions. I’m not here to judge you anymore than I’m here to judge them.

What brought you to Preathfics, or rather just the WOSO fanfic community in general?

I have always been a soccer fan. I played through high school. But fanfic you can thank lesbianrobinhood for. I was not looking for a new fandom, but she dragged me kicking and screaming anyway. It’s usually the way.

What pairing do you most enjoy writing for? Why?

Hmmm...That depends on what I’m in the mood for. I like writing Soran or So’Hara if I’m feeling angsty or Preath if I’m not, but really it’s more about the individual story than the pairing: which idea captures my attention most in a moment. That said, as I said in another answer: I love writing Sonny, so if I get to write her, even if she’s just the supporting friend to Preath, I am a happy person.

Do you have a favorite fic? Can you make a list like Preathfics did of your faves?

Oooh, ummm...I mean anything by Blake0tyler for sure. I could (and have) read her stuff over and over and over. I love, love, LOVE Here I Am (Signed, Sealed, Delivered), by freshtilapia. I really enjoy The Restaurant by little_oblivion for a great ensemble piece. The One Where Everyone Finds Out is another great one (and all of LittleDanvers’s stuff really). I love the imagery in Portrait of a Soccer Player on Fire by restlessvirtue. Entwined by superdupergust is very good (and hot). And for non-preath one of my faves is unbecomings (but their stuff is locked).

Do you have a favorite fic that you've written before?

Like of my own? Umm...The Time Between or Orlando is Only Home When It Has You, although so far I really like something that is as yet unpublished, and I’m enjoying the way folklore is turning out with JustCrushALot.

what's your favorite color?

Green!

Can you ask her why did she suddenly decide to update orgasm fic?

….Should I not? I have a hard time writing smut. I have to be in the right mindset and I haven’t been there in a while, but then I was, so I was like “Let me try” and it worked out.

are you planning on writing anymore explicit preath fics/oneshots?! The one up rn are soooo good!!

Umm...that depends. If I get the inspiration, then yes, certainly, I wouldn’t rule it out. Also I have a bet right now with blake0tyler about something which should result in smut from one of us at least.

To the amazing author of Worth a Thousand words: the story is beautifully written, it's funny, sweet and different from other fics. I totally get the KO thing and I do agree with you on that one but know that it's a fantastic story. (Everything you write is)❤️

❤️ Thank you! That is incredibly sweet! I really appreciate you saying so. ❤️

My opinion isn’t worth much as an anon but I loved Worth a Thousand Words and whoever gave it bad feedback can go suck an egg.

Haha, thank you. I’m glad that you enjoy it!

Heath17_KO5's feelings are so darn relatable, I'm crying just from reading the words fear, disillusionment and disappointment. Creative people are often highly sensitive people and when they feel things, they FEEL things. Wishing you strenghth, clarity and insight, Heath17_KO5. I hope you keep finding joy in the written word, as we do in YOUR written word.

❤️ That is very lovely of you to say. Thank you. Please don’t shed any tears on my account though!

heath17_ko5 is having problems with fandom in general or with the woso/preath fandom? that's a shame, but she should do what is best for her :)

Thank you, I appreciate that. I mean, I think in all fandoms there is a toxic element, but as this is the only fandom I’m currently active in, it’s this one. And it’s not all of you, please don’t think that. I sort of explained in another ask.

I just love Heath17_KO5's stories and everything they contribute. Is there any chance the author will pursue Beacon of Light? No pressure or anything. I just thought it had such a sweet premise. And I am a sucker for a good storm story :D

I am working on chapter 2, it’s just slow going.

[summernightskyy]

My Top The 100 Men

So, @nomattertheoceans​ tagged me to post about my Top 5 The 100 Women, and while I was doing that, I got curious about who her Top 5 The 100 Men are (I’m almost positive I know at least one person who would be on her list, and I think he might even be number 1 haha). So I decided to do my own and then tag her in this! This was very hard, but in a different way from the women for me. I knew who my number one was, no doubt. But #2-5? I love every character on this list a lot, so really almost everyone else is tied for second place hehe.

1. Bellamy Blake

Oh Bellamy. My journey with him has been a long one. I started out the series nearly hating him, but then as we got to see the motivation behind his actions, I started to not only understand the character, but love him. Now, he’s one of my favorite characters across all media - potentially even my absolute favorite male character of all time. He’s an extremely nuanced character, and I love getting to see different sides of him. I love getting to see a lead male character express emotion the way he does (and not just anger); I love seeing a male lead get to cry, and not be portrayed as weak I think we need that more on TV and in movies. I grieve for the childhood both of the Blake siblings had, and I’m so proud of them (is it weird to say I’m proud of a fictional character?) for turning out the way they have. Bellamy, who was burdened with so much at such a young age, who probably never thought he would get to have a life outside of Aurora and Octavia, for fear of Octavia getting discovered. Octavia, who knew nobody outside of her brother and mother for what, like 15 years? Who probably thought she’d never get to have a life of her own either? (Ugh, I get so annoyed when I start thinking a little too much about Aurora and the decisions she made. She doomed both her children. I don’t know how she thought either of them, especially Octavia, would ever have normal fulfilling lives. If Octavia hadn’t been sent to the ground, they wouldn’t have.) Yeah, they’ve both lost their way at times, but I LOVE the Blakes (especially the eldest one haha). Season 7 has been pretty good so far, but I somehow became even more aware of just how much Bellamy (and B.ob, because he’s an amazing actor and portrays Bellamy so well B.ob antis DNI!!!! Regardless of what anyone thinks about him as a person, I think he’s a great actor) brings to the show for me with his extremely limited presence so far this season. I really enjoyed 7x11, even if it ended up with my boy being brainwashed. I stood by him even after he wrongfully and stupidly participated in the grounder army massacre, and I’m sure as heck gonna stand by him now too. @clarkegriffinlovebot​ said they would watch Bellamy Blake watch paint dry for 45 minutes, and I totally agree. (Is it weird that I’m tagging you? I don’t know you and I’ve never interacted with you past liking that post, but I wanted to give you credit haha) The show is just so much better for me when this adorable mythology and history nerd is in it.

2. Nathan Miller

Onto number 2! I chose Miller because although we *unfortunately* haven’t seen much of him or delve into his character that much, I’ve loved all the little bits we’ve gotten to see. He’s just so sassy and snarky, and I love it, in addition to him being loyal (sometimes to a fault) and trustworthy (lmao, that’s funny considering he’s a thief - but I don’t know, in my eyes he’s trustworthy when it counts 😂). I love him, and him hating all the planets they’ve been to is so, so relatable. I would be just entirely done and tired as well. I also really enjoy Millamy and Millarke as brotps (although I don’t think I’d mind if Millamy was a romantic ship haha). There’s quite a few things I would change about this show, but two of the things highest on that list would be 1) making Jarod Joseph part of the main cast so we could properly explore Miller as a character and give him his own full story line(s) and 2) making Miller x Monty canon, even if it was just for a little bit! Marper was cute, and Mackson is alright, but I think these two would have been cuter, and I’m so salty the show didn’t go down that route, especially since both Jarod and Christoper Larkin seemed to be on board.

Also, I really need to learn how to make my own gifs, because I was really hoping to find one with Miller saying “In other words, get the flock out of here!” I actually died during that moment. Maybe someone did make one, but if they did, I didn’t see it. That’s fine, though. I needed motivation to start trying anyways, because its something I’ve always wanted to do.

3. Gabriel Santiago

Everyone else on this list has been on the show since season 1, and I definitely didn’t expect to love a character who was introduced in the penultimate season as much as I love Gabriel. At the end of season 6, I was really hoping they’d keep Gabriel around, so I was super happy to hear they were going to, and I haven’t been disappointed. I love how he literally seems to thirst for knowledge. (I clearly have a thing for attractive, nerdy guys, okay?) I also find it incredibly brave that he pushed so hard for the Primes to stop what they were doing, because he had to know that all of them, including the love of his life, would turn on him. It was obvious that Ryker wasn’t fully okay with what was happening either, but he didn’t do what Gabriel did and fully renounce the practice. He clearly has a pretty strong moral compass, even if he was lead astray from it for awhile. I also really liked seeing him bond with Echo, Hope and Orlando. He’s smart, hot as hell, subtly funny, and not afraid to do what’s right even if that’s gonna end up making the people he cares about mad at him. 

4. Monty Green

Monty has been one of my favorites from the jump, and I miss him so much. He’s just so adorable and kind, and literally one of the best people on this show. He suffered through and lost so much, and I wish we could have had more focus on him dealing with those traumas. I hate that we never really got to see how he dealt with what happened at Mount Weather. The focus tends to be mostly on Clarke and Bellamy, but even then mostly Clarke. I think it’s easy to forget that while, yes, they pulled the lever, Monty made pulling that lever possible so he could save his friends. We also don’t really get to see much about him dealing with the trauma of having to kill his own mother, and even Jasper’s suicide was relatively swept under the rug. I mentioned earlier that there’s quite a few things I would change about this show, and when it comes to Monty, I wish we could have seen him process these events and heal. I also think credit for saving the day tends to go to Bellamy, Clarke, Octavia and Raven - but Monty has been instrumental in many instances. Those five, in my opinion make up the core five characters of the show, and honestly, the show hasn’t been the same without Monty. I love Jordan, he’s adorable and genuinely good just like his dad (and mom) but Monty’s part of the soul of the show to me. Also, how cute is it that Monty taught Jordan Korean?!? (I really think Jordan might be onto something about Cadogan and the Disciples interpreting the text incorrectly - so look at that, Monty might indirectly save the day again)

Also, shout out to @thelovelylights​ for making this gif - it’s one of my favorite moments of Monty, I’ve been following her for a long time, and her blog is amazing.

5. John Murphy

Honestly, I didn’t realize just how much I’d come to like and care about Murphy as a character until this season. I’ve been sooo stressed out watching every single episode he’s been in, worrying that he would end up dying. I’m a sucker for well depicted character growth / redemption arcs, (I mean lol, there’s a reason that some of my favorite characters include Bellamy Blake, Zuko, and Jaime Lannister), and Murphy’s had a great one. He was such a dick in season 1 who, unlike Bellamy - who clearly cared about Octavia at least, really seemed not to care about anyone but himself. It’s been so amazing to see him grow into the person he is now; a person who cares so much about the lives of random people, who was genuinely scared when he realized Madi was in danger, who reassured to her that she was safe and helped calm her down. I really hope the theories about a Memori baby end up becoming canon, because Memori has grown sooo much over the course of this series and they would be absolutely amazing parents.

Honorable mention: Lincoln Kom Trikru

Lincoln was just such a great character. I miss him so much 😭

Tagging @nomattertheoceans​ and anyone else who sees this and wants to do this!!