#with how much this particular adaptation leaned into horror

[lightsinthemist]

Every time I read a post complaining about Lucille and how evil she is, I just think about how none of you would handle Milada from The Seven Ravens (1993). Not now, and definitely not as a kid.

[thesoftboiledegg]

I wasn't sure what to make of "That's Amorte" before it aired. When signs pointed toward "the spaghetti comes from aliens," I wondered if we had a rehash of Futurama's "The Problem with Poppers," where the crew finds a delicious treat on a planet only to learn that the "popplers" are underdeveloped alien offspring.

Rick and Morty's take on Soylent Green also seemed likely. Everyone knows the twist: Soylent Green is people! A dark sci-fi concept like that could be a ripe parody for this series.

However, "That's Amorte" adapted a concept that other shows have referenced a thousand times and took a right turn. No one's angry at the humans for eating their suicide victims: in fact, they love the spaghetti and turn it into a corporate product.

This is an obvious shot at capitalism and how companies will destroy the environment, brutally slaughter animals and turn cities into concrete wastelands just to make a buck. And I mean--chowing down on this spaghetti isn't that different from eating meat. I'm an omnivore, but I kept thinking that at least these pasta producers chose to die.

The suicide element gave this episode a poignant touch instead of turning it into an edgelord slog where the humanoids kill people and throw them in a meat grinder. Admittedly, the clones leaned in that direction, and that scene also shows how Rick struggles to understand the world outside himself. He doesn't react when the clones kill each other, but one of his daughters is a clone, and he'd be horrified if anything happened to her.

On its own, "That's Amorte" is a great episode. However, when you take the whole series into account, the plot retreads the same old Morty narrative: Morty tries to do the right thing, it backfires, Rick dodges responsibility while antagonizing Morty to be petty, Rick gets stuck fixing everything and Morty tries to pretend it never happened.

I keep waiting for something good to happen to Morty. Rick has plenty of episodes where he makes positive changes: going to therapy ("Analyze Piss," "Air Force Wong"), improving his relationship with Jerry ("Final DeSmithation," "The Jerrick Trap"), trying to do right by Beth ("Bethic Twinstinct"), being kinder to Morty ("Full Meta Jackrick"), etc.

Season five doesn't emphasize his character development as much, but plenty of scenes show how much he's changing. Even season four has moments where he's gentler.

Rick's being his petty season-two self in "That's Amorte," but even here, he does the right thing by showing the world exactly what--and who--they're eating. In earlier seasons, he would've done that just to be an asshole. Here, I don't think that he was trying to torment people as much as he just knew that this spaghetti shitshow had to end.

Same with the spaghetti itself. He didn't feed it to the Smiths, then show them the dead body just to torture them. I think he genuinely wanted to share the spaghetti because it was delicious, but he also figured that they don't want to know where it comes from.

On a similar note, I enjoyed Rick's moments of physical gentleness. Great animation detail.

So Rick gets a little character development and saves the day again, and Morty gets...nothing. Just a rehash of old storylines. "Mortynight Run" in particular has almost the same plot, beat-for-beat.

"That's Amorte" touched on Morty's depression and his family's coldness toward him but didn't go further than that. Morty keeps cycling through the same issues with no resolution. He blows up in one episode, then shuts down the next. His attempts to do the right thing go astray. When's this kid going to catch a break?

Again, this episode isn't bad. It's funny, original and well-written and has a lot to say about ethics and capitalism. Still, I don't understand why reviews on other sites keep emphasizing Morty's character development because I didn't see much.

I will say that everyone's horror at where the spaghetti comes from was a great takedown of the meat industry. Everyone loves sausage, but nobody wants to see how it's made!

Still, next time we get a Morty episode, I hope that it says more about him and less about the world outside his cartoon.

[silverskye13]

its so crazy how RnS has this obsession with opposites and differences. while it's sometimes very clearly stated, it'll also be subtle, embedded into the text like a message from the subconscious. i think thats what makes me so obsessed w this fic, the attention to detail isn't even for a purpose, it's inherent and instinctual to the text, like it's alive.

that's all to say that as a writer you've done an incredible job landing just on top of the line between prose and narrative. your brain must be so wrinkly

(side tangent, have you ever read a Patrick Rothfuss book? he was my entry into this particular style of writing, though his is much more centered in narrative)

Thank you so much for the kind words! RnS has become my personal study on how to make your prose really fit what you're writing, and choosing words intentionally to set scene. The way I kind of fell into it was actually adapting from horror. I've really enjoyed how horror books tend to describe things with visceral intent. The spire doesn't rise, it shreds the sky. You aren't scared, fear grips you like a dog and shakes you. It's not self preservation, it's the human desire not to be devoured. I feel like horror is a genre that does this a lot [and sometimes gets a lot of flack for its choices if it's too over the top] and I like how playing with that can really submerge you in the writing.

RnS has kinda turned into my playground for leaning into that idea, just without the horror attached. Welsknight speaks like radiance and sun. Helsknight is fiery and wolf-like. Tanguish is cold and crawling. Tango is hot impulsivity. I try to describe them accordingly, and use consistent descriptors for them throughout. It's been a back and forth success. Sometimes I pull it off better than others, and sometimes there are needless contradictions where I prioritize environment or emotions over consistency. But! It's still been fun to experiment with and I'm glad it comes through :D I wish I'd been more mindful when I first started writing. Extending the intentional word choice metaphors to hels/Hermitcraft would have been really fun I think.

And I've never read Rothfuss! Though I've got a few friends who think I'd like Name of the Wind. Though they're the same friends who thought I'd like Wheel of Time, the Genre Defining Fantasy Series, and I, famously [in my friend group], couldn't get into that if my life depended on it.

[phoenixwatchesmovies]

Dracula Season Watch Party: Nosferatu (1922)

Silent movies demand more attention, but it was worth it. This beats the shit out of the Bela Lugosi movie (no offense if you're a fan). It's the story of Dracula with the serial numbers filed off, to use that turn of phrase, and it cracks me up that the unauthorized adaptation that rips off Bram Stoker only survives today because of stolen prints. Piracy on top of piracy!

One thing that's always gotten me about silent films is the choppy way things move sometimes. It's uncanny as hell, and that works in this one's favor. Ymmv on how creepy it is, but it's certainly eerie. The print I watched had a good score on top of it, and that helps as well.

Actually, a good print makes all the difference, so here's the one I watched.

Before I get too much further, I do want to mention that this one does have some objectionable qualities. It leans heavily into vampire lore rooted in antisemitism, and Count Orlok himself appears to be a Jewish caricature. After doing some background research, it appears director F.W. Murnau was actually quite sympathetic to Jewish people and any harmful stereotypes weren't included maliciously, but I think that underlines the point I wanted to make. I'm not bringing this up to preach that no one should ever engage with problematic media, or that you can only do so to criticize it, but to stress how important it is to keep in mind that an artist's intentions don't always reflect in the art itself. Some of these stereotypes and ideas carry through to this day and cause harm to people, and while I don't think you have to be critical of all the media you consume all the time, it's worth checking in to make sure you're not incorporating harmful ideas into your worldview just by watching a movie. You are not immune to propaganda, etc. @re-dracula has a great episode on antisemitism and Gothic horror, for a more informed conversation.

Moving on, I've only ever seen Max Schreck as Orlok mentioned in talk about great performances in this, and yeah of course, a horror movie is only as effective as its villain/monster, but my personal fave was Greta Schröder as Ellen (this version's Mina). Her eyes are so expressive, and the dread on her face in certain shots gave me goosebumps. I mean, look at her!

The opening scenes between Ellen and Hutter, on the other hand, were sweet and adorable. Jonathan and Mina vibes all the way.

(Speaking of Hutter, if the total stranger who's putting me up while I sell him a house lunged at me to suck the blood from my cut thumb, I'd just climb right out the window and leave. RIP to Hutter but I'm different.)

I might do more reading on production, because I'm curious how movies are made in general, and back in the early days of film in particular. During the scene with Orlok driving Hutter to his castle, the film switches to negatives, and it's a really cool effect! I only wonder if it was intentional or if it was salvaged to restore the cut.

All in all, good movie! It's a staple of film and horror history, and I'm glad I finally watched it. :D

[regalstudies]

Japanese Movie Recommendations!

こんにちは皆さん！今日、特別な順序ではなく５本の好きな映画を紹介したいです。

Hi everyone! Today I’d like to introduce you to 5 of my favourite Japanese movies! My personal tastes lean more towards the horror and anime side of things, but I hope there are some here that you guys haven’t seen! Cinema can be a great avenue to delve deeper social commentaries about the country we’re interested in learning about, so I’ve tried to pick some recommendations with that in mind! :]  

I’ve attempted to add all relevant content warnings, but there may be something I have missed so please take caution! I’d recommend having a look at what people say on DoesTheDogDie.com if you have specific concerns

Without further ado, let’s get started!

1.  Confessions (告白) directed by Tetsuya Nakashima (中島哲也)  

Confessions is a 2010 psychological thriller based off of the mystery novel of the same name. It follows the aftermath of the murder of a school teacher’s daughter by her pupils, who utilise Japan’s laws on age of criminal responsibility to “get away with it” and focuses on the differing perspectives of those involved. This film explores themes of revenge, familial values and expectations, and the normalization of violence in youth. This film is unmistakably heavy, but it is powerful.

This was introduced to me by my professor when I was doing a Japanese Film course in Uni, and it has stuck with me for YEARS. Not only is the story itself poignant, it’s brilliantly acted, beautifully shot, and has so many striking visuals with artistically composed scenes. As this was a fairly successful film,  there are a fair few articles analysing its themes - if anyone is interested, I can try and dig up the resources we used when we studied this in class! :]

Content warnings: depictions and mentions of mental and physical abuse, violence towards children, violence committed by children, bullying mentions of animal death, attempted suicide, murder, mentions of chronic illness (AIDs and cancer in particular)

2.  The Tale of the Princess Kaguya (かぐや姫の物語) directed by Isao Takahata (高畑 勲)

A retelling of famous folktale Taketori Monogatari (竹取物語) for modern Japanese audiences, The Tale of the Princess Kaguya brings new life to the classic story without sacrificing any of its heart. Takahata cited his own inability to connect to the original tale as inspiration for the retelling, aiming for something which the audience could connect to emotionally and really understand the titular princess. 

The film deals with feminist concerns about the restrictions of womanhood (especially in the ambiguously Heian-era Japan), familial obligation, love, and the beauty of life. It’s a cultural adventure which I would recommend to anyone regardless of their familiarity with the tale it is adapting! Honestly, I’ve written essays about  Taketori Monogatari and this film still managed to move me to tears with how beautifully and painstakingly rendered it is! I’d need a whole other post to detail just how much I appreciate the /art/ of this piece.

Content warnings: animal death, suggestion of sexual assault, arranged marriage, memory loss

3. Dark Water (仄暗い水の底から) directed by Hideo Nakata (中田 秀夫)

This 2002 horror movie is a sad ghost story! It follows the story of a single mother trying to get through her life while dealing with her divorce proceedings, new slightly-run-down apartment, and the paranormal occurrences haunting herself and her daughter. This movie deals with familial issues, parental sacrifice and confronting trauma.

Dark Water deals with aspects of Japanese horror which fans of Ringu (coincidentally, also directed by Nakata) may recognize, so I’d definitely recommend fans of Ringu and people wanting to explore the way that different cultures portray horror to give this one a shot. I found this one so fun to analyse  recurring themes and imagery in Japanese horror, and I’m more than happy to encourage others to fall down this rabbit hole too!

Content warnings: missing children, death (including that of a child), threat of death, drowning, abandonment, divorce

4.  The Girl Who Leapt Through Time (時をかける少女) directed by  Makoto Shinkai (新海 誠)

This 2006 sci-fi romance tells the story of a high-school girl who discovered that she has the ability to travel through time! Dealing with friendship, the pressures of growing up and romance, this movie integrates slice-of-life and coming of age themes into its sci-fi setting! Its your classic tale of fairly innocent time-travel shenanigans and trying to right some wrongs, and makes the the ultimate heartwarming story! 

This one used to be pretty popular amongst anime fans a gooood few years back, but I haven’t seen people talk about it in a while and I wanted to mention it just in case it had fallen off the radar!  With simple yet fluid character designs and beautiful scenery, this piece manages to portray grounded teenage characters and capture that warm summer feeling throughout.

Content warnings: threat of death, train accidents, minor violence and name calling

5.  Tokyo Sonata (トウキョウソナタ) directed by  Kiyoshi Kurosawa (黒沢 清)

This 2008 drama follows the disintegration of a middle-class family after the patriarch loses his comfortable salaryman job unexpectedly. This film tackles issues faced by many modern families as the sense of traditionalism and societal normalcy becomes strained under the pressures of expectation, unemployment, and inability to communicate your authentic self to your family.

This film is an incredibly grounded drama, depicting real issues faced by so many families. Take a look at the date on this film, and you’ll realise how true-to-home this story of societal and economic uncertainty is for so many. Despite it all, what seems on the surface to be a depressing story of a family at their worst, actually displays a message of hope throughout. I find it to be a very realistic and poignant film.

Content warnings: unemployment, financial struggle, communication issues, war, military, abuse, domestic violence, crime, robbery, kidnapping, themes of suicide and depression, sexual assault, car accidents, police presence 

Bonus!  Gohatto (御法度) directed by Nagisa Ōshima (大島 渚)

This one was recommended by my flatmate for this list, as a quick shoutout because “its very good” so I don’t personally have much to say about it - but I’m never going to complain about a recommendation for a gay samurai film. :]

それで、おすすめを終わります！

Thank you all for reading through this list! If you have any recommendations of your own, please feel free to add them on!

[topazshadowwolf]

GoopTales: Part 10

In which Nightmare knows he's in over his head and makes a call. As I think I warned before, there will be FuzzyNight, and it's now starting to pop up. Balance (Lyra) is a Toriel guardian.

Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10(you are here)

AO3: Ch 1 (1-4), Ch 2 (4-8)

---

He gave all the boys a snack of crackers (cheesy crackers and saltines mixed together) and cut-up pears. This they had in the entertainment room while watching one of the animated movies they had brought home at one point or another. He made sure to check the rating of the movie. 

Looking over the box, he remembered when the boys brought it home. At the time, they had laughed about it being for kids and expected to mock it the entire time. To them, it sounded cheesy.

It was about some giant metal creature from space that made friends with a tiny human boy. He remembered finding all four in tears by the time the movie finished. Nightmare should try watching movies more often. They were good stories; some were even adapted from books he read. But he’d just instead read.

Thankfully Dust was handling the snack well. The flavors were mellow, especially since he gave him more saltines than cheesy crackers. Nightmare offered them all small amounts at a time, preventing him from getting excited about the flavors and overwhelming his magic. Since they all got the same treat with needing to ask for more, Dust wasn’t singled out. Though Nightmare did need to ask him not to share so much with Ferrous. 

The dog was lying beside Dust, letting the child lean on him. It was nice to see the animals accept their smaller owners, like Bill, who was again lying like an oversized rag doll over Killer’s lap.

Once done with the snack, he stood and left the room with the excuse of needing to clean up. The truth was, he needed help, and he wasn’t above admitting it to himself, at least.

While they were watching the movie, Nightmare made a phone call.

“Hello, Nightmare! How are you?” Asked a kind and feminine voice.

“Hello, Lyra, I…,” He looked in at the boys who were fixated on their movie. Each in shirts that fit them more like nightgowns… Horror’s, in particular, was down to his ankles. “... I have a small problem. It is something I will try not to bother you with too often, but I could use some help for a moment. And yes, there was a pun intended before… you will understand once you see what I am talking about. That is, if you can come here?”

“I… can. Nightmare, is everything alright?” Lyra inquired. “You say it is a small problem, but your voice contradicts that.”

With a sigh, Nightmare closed his socket, and his tentacles drooped. “I trust you, so I will be honest… no… everything is not alright. But… I will make do.”

“I do not like the sound of that. I am finishing baking a treat for your boys,” She said. Before, he knew she would have been teasing him to say, ‘your boys.’ It has reached the point, now, that she calls them that without even meaning to.

Well, she will soon see. 

“I will be there soon,” She said, finishing her statement.

“Thank you, goodbye until then,” Nightmare said.

“You are welcome, and likewise,” with that said, she hung up.

Now, he should warn the boys. Lyra tended to look for them first when she visited. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t mind. She seemed to enjoy finding them and giving them a pie or something else that they happily came to share with him.

Walking into the room, he paused the movie, and all but Dust looked up at him. Dust looked confused and glanced around before looking up at Nightmare.

“I am sorry to pause your movie, boys, but a friend is coming over. She will be helping me out, and so I want you four to be nice to her. Alright?” Nightmare asked, and all four nodded. “Thank you.”

“what’s her name?” Horror asked.

“Her name is Lyra, or Balance, for she is the guardian of balance and order,” Nightmare explained.

“is she your wife?” Killer blurted out.

“My wi-” Nightmare felt his magic rush to his face, his tendrils lashing with a sudden burst of nervous energy. “No, no, she is not my wife.”

“Oh…, girlfriend!” Killer announced, pleased with himself.

“If by that you mean a friend who happens to be a female, then yes. But that is all we are, friends. Is that understood?” Nightmare clarified, and Killer nodded with a smile. 

What was he to do with that one?

He then resumed the movie and returned to the kitchen. By the time he finished cleaning up from the snack, he had heard the soft footsteps of Lyra walking into the kitchen. “I now see what you mean by ‘small’ problem.”

“You saw them then…,” Nightmare sighed without looking back at her. He pulled the plug in the sink to allow the water to drain. “Did they see you?”

“No, I had been considering surprising them. It is safe to say they surprised me, so I stepped away from the doorway to find you,” Lyra said as she moved closer. He glanced over as she set a tray of brownies down. Steam was rising off of them; they were fresh from the oven. She looked at him with a tilted head. “What happened?”

Nightmare waved a hand to the table before he remembered the tablecloth. She looked at it as well and giggled. “What is this construction?” She inquired.

“A cave… a small cave dragon hatchling lives there with his three guards. Here, let me fold the tablecloth, and you can take a seat…,” He said as he picked up the tablecloth and started folding it while walking over to the drawer it belonged in. 

Once she was sitting and the tablecloth was put away, he joined her and started telling the story of what had occurred. He didn’t hold back either, telling her everything he had learned about his henchmen. As he spoke of their Gasters, she covered her face when he got to Dust’s memories.

“Oh my… that…,” Her words failed her, and she shook her head. 

“Anyway, I need supplies for them… but I can not leave them alone in the castle when they do not even remember this is their home.”

“I can stay here for as long as you need me,” Lyra said.

“Actually… do you mind making the shopping trip? I will confess my knowledge of child care is limited,” Nightmare frowned. “They mainly need appropriately fitting clothing. Then anything you might feel they need.”

“And after the shopping trip?” Lyra pried

“You may go home,” Nightmare said with a tired smile.

“Nightmare… they are children.” Lyra pushed.

“I am aware of that,” he replied flatly.

“And with the same injuries and changes that occurred in adulthood. Nightmare… they will… be a challenge for just one person,” Lyra explained.

“They are my b-… my idiots,” he stated. “They are always a challenge, and I will make due as usual.”

She sighed and shook her head. “Alright, but know that I am just a phone call away. You need not do this on your own.”

She then stood and walked into the entertainment room. Just in time, too, the closing credits for the movie were starting. “Greetings, boys! Nightmare told me about you four and asked me to run an errand. Before I leave, I wanted to talk to the four of you.”

He stood there and watched as she knelt on the floor and spoke with them. Asking about favorite colors, animals, foods, and other things. Three of the four were excitedly answering. Dust, though, sat quietly and shrugged. The others would offer up answers for him. He then noticed Nightmare and walked over to him, Ferrous trailing behind.

“can i stay by you?” He looked about ready to cry, and Lyra offered an apologetic smile.

“You may,” Nightmare replied, and Dust moved beside his leg. He stood there quietly, watching the others. Nightmare glanced down again as he felt something touch his leg and saw Dust place a hand on his fibula. 

The others asked Lyra questions and pointed out how much she looked like Queen Toriel. Though, with some black fur, one gold horn, and one silver one. They were very curious, though Horror soon tired and made his way over to the other side of Nightmare.

As the children stood beside him, he moved a tendril around Dust’s and Horror’s shoulders to offer comfort. Horror smiled up at him but then sighed and closed his sockets. His head must still be bothering him. Dust, Of course, flinched at first when the tentacle Nightmare used for him made contact. Much to the Guardian’s surprise, though, he looked up at Nightmare with a smile.

“Alright, I will be back,” Lyra said as she stood.

“Thank you,” Nightmare said.

“You are very welcome,” she replied with a smile.

---

next

[desultory-novice]

 DanganRonpa CAN be scary, I think in particular, the creepily directed "executions", thanks to their uncanny animation style, can shake one up a bit to watch. Although 70% of the time, they are so silly in :cough: execution it douses the horror of what's happening on screen somewhat. (The first game's first execution is generally ranked as the most violent, and that's because it was a holdover from when the game leaned way more into grunge-horror.) A few of the murders lean on the grisly side, but I think most are more shocking than "gross." And then there's the pink blood!

Once you get past all that, DR is a very excellent story of not just :cough: hope (...I know...) but humanity and what it means to face yourself and hopefully, rise above. The characters are forced into a killing game, and the mastermind's goal usually leans (among other things) on painting a really nasty portrait of people. How "easy" it is to get someone to sink to this level where they'll murder people they're supposed to cooperate with or be friends.

But what you come away from in each case, generally, is sympathy and a sense of loss. For the victim and the murderer. DR is unarguablly EXCELLENT at turning you around on characters. Making you hate someone you loved, love someone you hated, or circle right back around to your first impression!

I adore DR for its depiction of how our best qualities WILL find a way to shine through, even in our worst moments. That even the death of a "jerk" is a tragedy, to someone, somewhere. Everyone (?) has a story in DR. The world isn't "black and white" despite the presence of Monobear.

It's honestly uplifting and powerful. Some of the best "death game" stories are, but DR still holds a position near the top for its creativity, wit, and message. (Minus points for some stuff that's pretty uncomfortable across a variety of spectrums, though your mileage will vary on that. And there are a honestly a FEW weak characters across the franchise, I'll admit.)

DanganRonpa V3 is one of my favorite video games of all time though - beating out DR2, which was itself incredibly good. (Although 2's protagonist, Hajime Hinata, remains my favorite DR character, hands down. Hinata's just one of those impactful characters who changed my life in a good way.)

...Btw, the anime adaptation of 1 is generally fine, but Dangan Ronpa 3 (anime series, different from the V3 game) is awful, and it is every "bad" thing you've ever heard about DR. It is unnecessarily violent and mean, relishes in how much humanity sucks, goes against the general care DR treated its characters with till now, relies on deus ex machina and "gotcha" moments instead of clever murder puzzles (and absolutely wastes the premise of borrowing from one of my favorite analog games :grumble grumble:) and doesn't add anything to the story or mythos you couldn't already have figured out on your own. It has ONE good (?) character in it and <spoilers> they don't make it. To me, it also weakens the earlier games in a way I can't even get into without spoilers, but a certain reveal turned one of my other favorite characters into one of my least favorite. Apologies to anyone who likes it for having to make it through that paragraph but... no. I even rewatched it recently and still... no.

...

...Darn it, all this talk about DanganRonpa made me go back and binge watch all Chapter 2 of DR The After. Grah! That trial is SO good it's unfair that DR The After is only a DR fan game/doujin work! (Mind you, a fan game with amazing production values. The VA knock it out of the park! And the writing...!)

The twists and turns. The interplay. The final reveals!

Literally a work I'm willing to wait the additional 5+ years it will probably take to finish. (Though I'd love if we could get to at least the beginning trial portion of Chapter 3 sometime in 2023...? :fingers crossed:)

While I'm talking to myself about a fan game very few have likely experienced, have a 30 second sketch of Hatami, Super High School Level Good Boy.

...And yes, I totally ended this post by sketching a character from a DR fan game instead of someone from the mainline series.

[pynkhues]

What are your thoughts on mean girls?   the performances in the movie? I personally think Rachel McAdams had a flawless performance lol The impact you think it had on pop, culture and movies and what do you think about them doing a remake and making it a musical? Also, I haven’t seen the remake but it seems like they made a some changes when it comes to the characters style? like what are your thoughts?

Ah! I love Mean Girls! I was 13 when the original came out, so it definitely hit me in a sweet spot and was pretty formative for me. I agree that Rachel McAdams' performance is pretty flawless in it, and I actually think Lacey Chabert's is really underrated in it too. Her spinning out is genuinely one of my favourite parts of the movie.

And y'know, funnily enough, despite it's enormous impact on pop culture, I don't necessarily see it as a hugely influential film when it comes to movies? It's certainly a key part of a canon of acerbic teen cinema - not quite as sharp as Jawbreaker, Election or Heathers but not as toothless as Clueless either, it probably sits neatly between Bring It On and Easy A in terms of satire focused on specific dynamics - interpersonal hierarchies between groups of girls, appropriation, race and class in sport, and slut shaming in Mean Girls, Bring It On and Easy A respectively).

With the exception of a couple of recent films (Bottoms and Do Revenge are really the only two that spring to mind) I think teen cinema has tended to skew towards genre blends over the last two decades. By that, I mean they're either romance (To All the Boys I've Loved Before, The Half of It), superhero (Spiderman: Homecoming, Shazam), or horror (Talk to Me, Totally Killer, It Lives Inside), all of which downplay the satire of that particular teen canon and lean into its other elements.

Which checks out really; after all, Hollywood takes the wrong lessons from movies for and about women doing well - Barbie's actually an incredible example of this given the takeaway hasn't been to explore empower more women to tell women's stories or to make more big budget fantasy/comedy films aimed at women, but to greenlight a ton more movies based on Mattel toys.

That's not to say that I don't think Meal Girls influenced writers and directors coming up - Bottoms and Do Revenge pretty nakedly wear this particular influence on their respective sleeves - but Mean Girls didn't really start any cinema trends in my opinion, and is itself a product of capitalising on some really good ones particularly by expanding tonally and thematically on Jawbreaker and Clueless, which it really did do such a good job of.

As for the remake, I don't know! I'm not planning on seeing it in the cinema (there's too much else out at the moment I'm more interested in seeing tbh, and I'm a bit waylaid by looking after my nephews for a couple of weeks), but I'll probably check it out once it hits VOD. I'm curious as to how it adapts and am interested to compare it to The Color Purple which has, of course, received the similar book to movie to stage musical to movie musical evolution.

What do you think though? Has anyone else seen the movie musical yet?

[ruki--mukami]

This writing course is draining me but rukiii… *She leans on his door with a laptop in her hands* if…let’s say I finish this paper before the due date, maybe two hours, would you read it for me and maybbbbbeeee maybe *a smile pops on her face* watch a show with me? Sherlock is fun to rewatch but I’m also in the mood for a soft comedy, have you seen my two dads? Ohhhh wait how about American horror story? That one actor can bite me anytime, he’s so fine! *she fans her face before giggling to her self*

"Just a little while longer. You're almost there, Elaf. That writing course of yours won't last forever, so you might as well put your best foot forward until the very end. The time you spend complaining is better spent towards finishing that paper, so you'd best hold your tongue for now if you really want it done and over with. As for your reward that you desire so much... You should know that I don't particularly fancy television," the Vampire sighed. "Why watch a modern adaptation of Sherlock when you can just revisit Conan Doyle's original works? And do I look like I'd watch some ridiculous title called American Horror Story once I've finished my chores? Certainly not."

When she sang praises of a particular actor right in front of him, Ruki could only let out a sardonic laugh, crossing his arms indignantly. It wouldn't be the first time Elaf implied there was a better Vampire than him, and probably not the last as he already surmised.

"...I'm beginning to think you deliberately want to be punished. Well, that same tactic won't always work on me, Livestock. Has all your creativity gone towards your essay rather than this poor excuse for courtship? Either way, I'm not impressed."

[glorious-blackout]

💫 🌿 🎈 💞 💌

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Thank you! 🥰💖

💫what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?

As much as I appreciate a good keyboard-smash comment now and then, my absolute favourite comments are detailed essays that touch on everything from characterisation to specific quotes to tiny details that just stick out in the reader's mind. Those are such a gift to read and the whole difficult process of writing (especially multi-chaptered stories) feels worthwhile when you have readers who care as passionately about the story as you do.

I really am spoiled with wonderful readers in this fandom; whenever I get an AO3 email saying you, @yellowloid, @elorianna or @rock-n-roll-fantasy have left a comment I always get ridiculously excited 💖

🌿how does creating make you feel?

The actual process of writing my first drafts and coming up with particular scenes for a fic I'm truly invested in is always really exciting and rewarding, especially as I'm prone to executive dysfunction and having so much passion for a particular hobby can feel like a rare luxury. The editing process can definitely be a chore and is the part where I spend the most time procrastinating, but it's so satisfying to know that a fic is finally finished and ready to be published after working on it for so long.

🎈describe your style as a writer; is it fixed? does it change?

I think there's certain elements of my writing that have become fixed, ie. I tend to write in present tense from one particular character's perspective, and I definitely lean more towards an introspective style rather than a fast-paced, plot-heavy narrative. I do adapt a little bit depending on what the story demands though - hopefully reading my fluffy Baby Puppets fic feels markedly different from reading one of my TBHC sci-fi horror fics 😂

Also if I go back far enough I can definitely see that my style has changed over the years; I used to exclusively write character-based one-shots with little plot or dialogue. I also don't know when my shift from past-tense to present-tense happened but I suspect it was an accident... 😅

💞what’s the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language

Definitely the characters. Usually the best way for me to get truly invested in a story I'm writing is to try and put myself in the character's shoes and feel what they feel, and that usually helps flesh out everything else from the plot to the descriptions. When I'm editing I do get very fussy over the technical stuff though and can become fixated on whether certain sentences sound *right* or not.

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

I'm not sure I have anything to share as my writer brain refuses to wake up, but I'm hoping to write a quick little one-shot set after Miles joined Arctic Monkeys in London. I'm aware I'm several weeks late on that front but the idea's refusing to let me go 😅

[it-happened-once-in-a-meme]

Hi everyone! I'm new on Tumblr and would like to make a proper introduction, mainly so that my first post won't be something incredibly random 😆 Well, I don't want to get too personal with age, gender, looks, sexuality or social security numbers, so here are a few, certainly not all, of my fandoms (or rather fandoms that I would like to be a part of), in no particular order: Before I begin: it's important to note that quite often my opinion of a content is separated from my opinion of the creator. Most often I simply don't know or don't have the time to research what the creator does outside of their content so I wouldn't even know that someone else might think I support a certain opinion because I express my joy over someone's content.

So, here are some of the things I like: 😊

•The MCU (though these days there's too much content for me to watch so I just watch things with my favourite characters from the last phases)

•sometimes X-Men (mostly Cherick, one of my many ships)

•The Wizarding World (mainly Harry Potter and Fantastic Beasts, but I've also read The Tales of Beedle The Bard). I still love the worldbuilding and the many characters even though I've been a bit distanced to it the last few years.

•The Umbrella Academy. I love a good soundtrack, lovable characters with family issues and awesome fight scenes. In the beginning I thought that Viktor would stay my favourite character but now there are so many others I love.

•The Picture of Dorian Gray (so far I've enjoyed the book and watched the beginning of the 1945 adaption)

•The Lonecast series by Amy Ewing. I love this series so much even though the dystopia idea (basically fantasy The Handsmaid's Tale) would usually be too disturbing for me ❤

•Flawed series by Cecilia Ahern. It's been a few years since my last read but why not put it on this list? I loved the speeches and the fast pacing

•The Hunger Games universe, with the prequel not entirely read because I could only read an extract and after that I dindn't have much time to read. I like dystopias, as long as they don't lean too much towards the horror genre.

•The Inheritance Games by Jennifer Lynn Barnes. I read the first book this year and am currently reading the second one. The plot just reminds me positively of: •Knives Out. The early reveal of the "killer" made this murder mystery something special along with the amazing acting & the realistic family dynamics.

•BBC Sherlock. I do like mysteries and detective stories as long as they are consistently entertaining and not just towards the end

•The Great Gatsby. I prefer the book but Baz Luhrmann's adaption has its good sides too.

•Snowwhite and the Huntsman/Winter's War: The Huntsman and the Ice Queen/hopefully 🥺 a next film (as long as it isn't just an out of character cash-grab) because these fairytale films are magical and awesome and look great and the theme of the second film-

•The Three Musketeers 2011. I haven't read the book but I'm sure it isn't supposed to be an accurate adaption anyway. Oh, how I love this film! The story, the characters, the soundtrack, the costumes *chef's kiss*! ❤

•The Selection series by Amy Ewing. I like the plot idea of the Bachelor but I prefer it to be openly "scripted" instead of being a fake reality show (I've still watched a lot of seasons though🤫).

•The Sorcerer's Apprentice. One of the more serious films with Nicholas Cage in them 😂. It's a great film in general that I can watch over and over again.

•Die Edelsteintrilogie aka The Precious Stone Trilogy, which I read in German (Hallo an alle, die Deutsch sprechen, ihr könnt mir auch gerne auf Deutsch schreiben, solange euer Vokabular nicht zu diffizil ist ;) [translation from German: Hello to everyone who speaks German, you can write to me in German as well if you'd like to, as long as your vocabulary isn' too [foreign, rarely used word for difficult] ;])

•Eragon. The film. 2006. Just kidding, I thought a short comedy break may be needed after so many Fandoms 😊. Or is this just me being tired of writing them down? 🤭 Whoooa, no, I scrolled upwards and this is a lot! Sorry if this is too much for you reading this. 😶 Anyway, don't be sad if you actually happen to have liked this film; it's still better than a lot of others. Though I've never heard of someone who liked it. I'd be curious to know though... In any case: good luck to all Inheritance Cycle fans on the new adaption. 🍀

•The Witcher (Netflix TV series, otherwise I don't know much except for some random facts like Triss' hair color in different types of media 🤣)

•The School for Good and Evil series by Soman Chainani (who knows what the Netflix adaption will be like?). I particularly like the first three books.

•How I Met Your Mother. The way it ended made me sad but I still liked it overall.

I may also write about things that I'm not a big fan, or any fan of, but I don't need to list these here.

If you want to you can ask me about my perception, opinion, theory or maybe even explanation (maybe of something less complex 😅) about something from these Fandoms. When you do so, could you please mark spoilers, especially if you're referring to a Fandom with a lot of content? 🙏 Even if I've seen/read said content, others have maybe not and it would be a shame to spoil a part of experiencing a film/book for the first time. Perhaps I won't respond quickly: don't take this personally, I don't plan on checking tumblr regularly (hopefully I won't distract myself too much with Tumblr😮) and when I see a notification I can still be a little shy so it may take some time to formulate an answer I'm content with. 🤷

Anyway, a lovely day to everyone who's reading this🤗

[covenofthearticulate]

Sorry for real this time, what's Louis's favorite movie lately? Does he like any of those A24 horror films or anything? Did he watch Westworld? What's he into these days. I need an update, I feel like all my headcanons are like 5 years old.

asdrftgyhkjlekngm well first let me preface this by saying that I myself have not done a whole lot of Media Consumption these past few years (the pandemic triggered my need for Comfort so i basically just re-watched the umbrella academy every day for the last 2 years) so my headcanons are also not up to date but ANYWHO....

listen. LISTEN. if i can say one thing with confidence, it's that both louis and lestat's favorite movie of the last year was joel cohen's the tragedy of macbeth. terribly cliche, i know. louis didn't really have a choice in watching it— lestat just pulled it up on their tv one night and louis was too comfy on the sofa to move (lestat is the only one who knows how to work the remote to their smart tv. louis refuses to keep track of which shows are on which platforms and he HATES it asfdgfhgjhebfjk he sees the apple tv logo on the screen and gets all huffy).

but anyway they both WORSHIP that damn movie for different reasons. louis is mainly enchanted because the landscaping and cinematography really give it this entirely new level of Bleakness and tragedy that you can't get on stage. the world of macbeth is huge and desolate and that makes the grapple for power that much more desperate. there are moments that are existential and overwhelming, and there are moments of crushing intimacy between macbeth and lady macbeth, so for louis it's as much about Big Meta Existentialism as it is a psychological portrait of the og Power Couple (which i think kind of terrifies louis to some extent bc like. if lestat sees himself as macbeth, does that make louis lady macbeth?? but also denzel washington’s portrayal, in particular,really leans into the guilt and the bloodlust and the guilt over having bloodlust so tbh i think louis would feel called out by that journey more but either way Much To Think About).

i could write a whole novel about all the reasons lestat is so invested in macbeth (maybe i will soon! macbeth one of my all time faves too!) but anyway your question was about louis so i'll just end this by saying i think it's actually really sweet that lestat and louis get to live in a world where these texts they know and love are adapted in so many different ways, and they get to experience them in new and exciting ways!

I do think Louis watched Westworld, and maybe got a bit too into Succession, and yes he absolutely loves anything and everything A24 does!! (especially minari!! he loves little slice of life films, and that lil kid just stole his heart the instant he showed up on screen)

but YEA tl;dr louis will always always ALWAYS be a slut for adaptations of his beloved Classics. 9 times out of 10 they're awful, but that just makes the winners like macbeth that much more precious to him

[fullscoreshenanigans]

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The first half of S1e05, which covers chapters 13 and 14 of the manga, is one of the most prominent sequences where many people feel the removal of flashbacks and internal monologues hit the hardest in the series, and I can’t say I disagree with them. Jairus Taylor of ANN contends this decision doomed all future seasons even if TPN Committee’s decision to cut their losses on the IP and drastically truncate the rest of the adaption hadn’t occurred:

The anime's approach to the Grace Field arc is chock full of tension, with clever camera angles to create the idea that the kids are constantly being watched. Moments of almost complete silence give an extra sense of dread, and the twisted fairy tale aesthetic series artist Posuka Demizu gave the manga was swapped for photorealistic backgrounds that make the area of the Grace Field House look significantly more real and grounded. In keeping with that focus on realism, Kanbe even stated in an interview that he intentionally cut down on nearly all of the monologuing from the manga in order to create a bigger feeling of suspense, and to keep the intentions of characters like Isabella and Krone shrouded in mystery. While this approach had its shortcomings, (changing most of Krone's internal monologues into her talking to a creepy doll just made her look unhinged rather than smart, and amplified her already yikes design even further) it made for a pretty solid season of television that was compelling enough to leave the audience curious where the story would be headed next.

The problem here though is that TPN was never really a mystery thriller in the way its earliest chapters suggested. It's a horror fantasy, and one that leans a little closer towards being a more linear version of Hunter x Hunter than the second coming of Death Note. In a similar vein to how Yoshihiro Togashi shifts the tone and genre of Hunter x Hunter with any given arc, The Promised Neverland also effectively changed genres to better support the needs of the narrative. The mystery thriller elements were vital to the Grace Field arc and filling in the blanks on the main trio's lack of information about the outside world; as that world expanded and the scope of the story grew more complex, Shirai tossed most of the mystery elements out the window. Instead, the post-Grace Field story shifts towards more literal strategic battles (with guns) and an ever-deepening dive into more fantastical elements, which range from the kids having to stave off sentient trees to Emma and Ray navigating a time-space cube in order to bargain with an Elder God that also doubles as a maniacal wish genie.

It's not exactly hard to see how a lot of that clashes with the relatively grounded tone of the anime. That grounded approach worked well enough with the needs of the Grace Field arc, but it resulted in an anime adaption that was ill-equipped to handle the story beyond the orphanage. The anime did a pretty good job delivering on suspense, but turning that into its main focus came at the expense of other elements that were vital to TPN's larger ambitions.

Aside from the aforementioned changes to the visual aesthetic of the series, a lot of the worldbuilding elements that helped to set up those later arcs took a pretty big hit. Some were cut out entirely, while others trimmed down so much that they feel more like exposition rather than explicit foreshadowing or major turning points in the story. Having all of the internal monologues cut had the unfortunate side effect of diminishing the characterization of figures like Isabella and Krone, whose motivations and deference to the sacrificial nature of the farm system is more directly contrasted to whether or not Emma will make a similar choice in abandoning the other kids. The fracture mother-daughter relationship between Emma and Isabella in particular (which Shirai stated as his reason for wanting the series to have a female protagonist in the first place) is given emotional context in the manga that is otherwise lost.

While we do have three other scenes of a younger Ray in episodes 1, 10, and 12, the flashback presented in chapter 14 that isn’t adapted visually is the first one that’s being relayed from one character to another with the intention of manipulation and misdirection of both the character and the audience. Ray feigns an air of nonchalance and indifference during his first retelling of his meeting with Isabella by the wall, keeping as much emotion out of it as possible as he frames it strictly as a business deal,

though subsequent recountings of the meeting we’re privy to confirm how devastating it was for him to have his suspicions confirmed. By doing so, he’s purposefully trying to push Norman’s buttons to simultaneously get him to agree to his plan of tricking Emma into leaving with just the five of them (really four) and really start pushing them away emotionally so that when he commits suicide, it hopefully won’t hurt them as much (this fails spectacularly, but A for effort lol). By portraying him with this level of detachment, it makes the audience second guess his true level of emotional investment in the trio’s relationship: is he prioritizing Emma and Norman’s lives out of true friendship and love, or is it because they have the best chances of helping him survive outside the walls?

Other visual evidence is presented to support the former. In chapter 13, Norman notes how “it wouldn’t have been hard to fool Conny” into parting with Little Bunny:

The wording here could be taken subconsciously to mean this was a malicious and potentially misanthropic act of subterfuge, especially since we don’t have the additional nod to his guilt over doing nothing to save her from her intended fate in chapter 19 when we see her smiling face in this single panel, along with the note to Isabella relaying the false location of the rope (another thing the anime doesn’t particularly convey well since it seems like Ray is apologizing just for lying and yelling at Don and Gilda. He is sorry about that, yes, but he’s also remorseful for doing nothing for his late siblings and how ready he was to turn Norman against Don because he wouldn’t be dealing with the suffering caused by that fallout.)

But we don’t see an overtly malevolent Ray sneakily hiding Little Bunny away as a distraught Conny sobs that she’ll have to leave the house without her beloved stuffed animal. We don’t see what Ray says to her, if anything, to prompt her to hand over Little Bunny, but she does so willingly and with a smile on her face after her older brother has gently patted them both, though he later states that he “tricked Conny, who didn’t know better.” More language steeped in negative connotations to corroborate how Norman described the act earlier so he’ll, hopefully, continue to think distastefully of Ray and be more willingly to abandon him later on. (It helps that it comes naturally from all the guilt that’s been fermenting within him over the years.) The anime omits this in favor of emphasizing Ray’s declaration that everything he’s done was to prepare for the escape they’re planning, choosing to have Norman focus on Ray specifically indicating all of this was just to make sure he and Emma don’t die during his revelation rather than him going over each point Ray told him, weighing his options, and aspiring to be more like Emma, the lattermost being the most lamentable loss.

This is when “Existence of an Insider” begins to play.

It’s mix of sorrowful strings, distorted cracklings, and techno beats intermingling to embody the conflict of sorting out just where Ray’s loyalties lie and what his existence as the insider means as dialogue ceases for an entire minute with only the sound effects to accompany the tune.

I’m not going to deny that while I enjoy this sequence, I also find it disproportionally comical, like a lot of the scenes in this series, largely because when I step back from the narrative that has thoroughly pulled me in, I’m reminded that all of this would be occurring between two eleven-year-old boys with no musical accompaniment and can essentially be summarized as Ray coming out of that exchange thinking he’s the hottest shit, slowly comprehending exactly what he said to a born genius, and then finally realizing everything he gave away with just a single sentence.

On top of the world to "shitshitshit FUCK I fucked up. I fucked up so fucking bad" in the span of seventeen seconds. Absolutely amazing, and yet while this presentation is amusing on a meta level, in-universe it never undermines the seriousness of the events playing out onscreen.

Meanwhile, Norman reaching the same conclusion is one of humbling, relief, and grief. Since Krone first arrived at the house, he suspected Ray was the traitor. He hated himself for it, but that didn’t change the conclusion he drew, and he spent two weeks stewing around in those negative, vindictive thoughts. This is the only time I believe Norman ever truly hated Ray as a person. His being aloof and withdrawn might have been annoying and frustrating when they were younger, but he still accepted Ray as he was and didn’t hate him. This development, however, was infuriating. Norman would have been willing to sacrifice Ray, like Ray tells him he should have done, if he hadn’t talked to Emma in the flashback from the manga that instead plays out chronologically here. It isn’t stated by him directly how he aspires to be like her, but it does cause him to pause, reevaluate, and take a step back from adhering to his more rigid sense of morality.

And then he realizes Ray’s true motivation and is humbled even further. In the final seconds of the song, the distorted crackling cuts out, and we’re left with the last rueful notes of the string instrument as the camera zooms in on a single child’s drawing, one that we know is Eugene’s based on the chapter 31 extra of the Grace Field House art gallery:

Eugene is a background character, they couldn’t even afford to give him eyes, so him being the artist of this drawing is ultimately inconsequential to the larger narrative, but I still have to applaud Mamoru Kanbe for pulling this out of the source material to more naturally and subtly symbolize this conclusion as opposed to using an actual doodle of the trio that we see in the chapter 37 cover art:

It looks like it’s from Yvette’s sketchbook based on the unplucked fringes, yet based on the skill she displays in the art gallery extra, it doesn’t seem like she was the one to draw it. (As a sidenote, how precious is it that the trio’s bond is so strong even the youngest of the children of art-producing age can pick up on it and want to draw it, as well as how heartbreaking it is that their separation will be so profoundly felt throughout the entire house).

There wouldn’t be a way to naturally incorporate that into the scene, and it would be even more on the nose, so the creative staff poured through the material they had available to them at the time of production and incorporated the gallery a second time in addition to the original chilling confrontation between Emma and Isabella in episode 2. A good use of resources to convey to the viewer the same affirmation Ray had given to Norman: whatever his machinations might entail, his motivation has always, always been his two most precious friends.

There’s relief in that realization: Ray isn’t out to maliciously harm them, but there’s also grief in how Ray doesn’t see himself as worth saving. A very humbling experience when just a few hours ago Norman had been so willing to throw Ray away like he wanted.

While Ray never blatantly states his intentions like he does in the final page of chapter 14:

I would argue that a similar telegraphing to this scene is presented in the opening page of the chapter thanks to the simple, subtle, and masterful layout:

Reading from right to left and top to bottom, the very first image we see is of the trio at the gate. There are some smaller text bubbles of dialogue between the trio at the time, but the largest one on the page is a repeat of the one we left off with at the end of chapter 13. Finally, we end on a resolved Ray in the bottom right corner who will do everything within his capabilities to ensure those two will make it past the wall, even if it means hurting the one who sits before him by pushing him away. An excellent central, diagonal main flow to open with.

In light of all this, is the anime’s handling of these chapters the inferior way to experience them? I would say it depends on what you prioritize when experiencing a work. Is it a worthwhile way to experience? For me, I can genuinely say yes thanks to the alterations the production staff chose, even if those choice would not have carried over well to the rest of the narrative. They kept me so thoroughly engaged with the story I binged it all in a single day and subsequently prompted me to continue on and finish the manga over the course of the next three. I haven’t had that kind of drive for a new media property in a while, so it was appreciated.

Also as a bonus, the Grace Field House daily schedule featured in chapter 17 is also included in this scene:

As well as downstairs in the dining hall:

Obviously we don’t have as richly detailed of an interior as what Demizu provides us in the manga, and yet I repeatedly come back to season 1 and marvel at all the care and little subtleties it has while utilizing the advantages of the medium it’s been transferred to.

[i-need-air]

Hey, you can ignore this if you want. But, just a thought, hybrid Izuku? Like maybe he has a kinda bad past too, just because I live for the angst beginning to fluffy end.

Sorry it took me a couple of days to answer! I wanted to switch it up and I mainly had to think a way to make Izu work as a hybrid, so I decided to make him be a bunny hybrid [ blame his cute hero costume, srsly ] I ended up writing the small amount of 3.7k words somehow— [ listen, i get emotionally involved, ok??? 😭 ] I genuinely hope you like it! 💕

[ Masterlist ]

Hybrid!AU Bunny!Midoriya Izuku

× you looked at the man sitting in the corner of the cell, both petrified staring at each other

× his bunny ears were lowered, his green eyes widened in your direction

× all you could do was to stand still, shocked and without being able to even mask it

× he looked awful to say at least

× meanwhile the reception guy that accompanied you for a tour of the shelter whispered in your direction; "This one is in really bad shape. Very traumatized, poor soul..." he clicked his tongue before continuing "He's been sent here from another shelter cities away, I don't know much about him and he won't talk."

× you could not look away even if you tried

× the reason why you decided to pass by the shelter was because you offered to help voluntarily in the weekends as you had some free time

× you did read and hear horror stories about the shelters and the hybrids thrown in them, how underfunded they were, how bad the conditions there were and how little help they had but—

× even if you came prepared for the worst you got surprised with the state some of the hybrids were in

× specially this one; his name was on a plaque by his prison like cell— Midoriya Izuku

× he had bruises, cuts, his hands looked specially beaten up and scarred, his behavior was erratic, nervous, just a disaster...

× something deep inside told you to smile and show him you're no threat, so you did

× you introduced yourself and nodded your head, really trying to keep a calm composture but your heart hurt seeing him like that

× much to your surprise, he nodded back, still uncertain but didn't move from his place, far back in the cell

× you've been gently pushed away to continue the tour and to establish your tasks, all while being thanked for your kindness; you didn't know why you felt like throwing up at the indifference in the man's voice...

× there weren't many hybrids in the shelter anyway, yet you've gotten your scheduled hours in which you'd help clean and cook and as you left for the day after some introduction to those tasks; your mind still lingered on Midoriya Izuku even through the night, as his terrified eyes stole the sleep from you that same night

× the following two days you began your volunteering hours and always kept an eye for the hybrid; he was skittish and asocial even at lunch and dinner times, did not talk to any other hybrid and specially not to any worker there

× he caught your eyes multiple times whenever you'd be in his general proximity, yet you'd see him scurrying away instantly, which made you feel unease; you weren't any threat, really, so maybe with time...

× it's when you brought your own cleaning supplies [ because there were little to none ] and decided to help clean their "rooms", so called by the staff, when you firstly got to talk to him

× you reached his cell and he was reading an old book, probably borrowed from the small library they had; he snapped his eyes up when he heard you approach

× "Hello, Midoriya" you'd say gently, heart in your throat, really scared you'd frighten him

× he just nodded and looked away, not before giving your cleaning supplies a long look, knowing what's to come

× with his permission, he let you go inside as you started preparing everything to swipe the floors, putting the broom in a corner as you leaned down to pick some other stuff; what you didn't notice was how the broom was gently falling, almost about to hit you on the head

× the green-haired hybrid was on your side instantly, catching it; it would've been a small tap on your head and most out of the situation would've been you looking ridiculous but you chuckled at the scene and thanked him wholeheartedly

× smol bean blushed so hard you almost dropped everything in your hands at the sight; "N-no problem—" he stuttered, his voice sweet and shy 🥺

× he stood there fidgeting with the book in his hands watching you move around until you heard an unsure "Can I help you?" 🥺🥺

× you told him sure, if he'd like to, mainly worried he really didn't want you in his "territory" but the man took it as an invitation and—

× it didn't stop at his cell? he helped you all day???? you cleaned around together but not without an awkward air around both; which ngl it's funny bc he's staring whenever you talk to everyone, clean, help, so on; big round eyes are always on you;;; IF YOU LOOK THO, oops— "what an interesting wall right there!" - Midoriya, probably.

× it's from then that you notice a switch; whenever you're at the canteen, he's there offering to help, looking just as skittish as always but a small blush always on his face

× whenever you'd be playing with the younger hybrids he'd watch in awe bc you treat them so well

× exactly when he actually starts talking to you more too! he's in the impromptu playground with you and the few little ones when he suddently drops your name in a stutter and says you're kind-hearted

× you almost drop dead in the spot bc his look, man; you haven't seen him so sure of something until now and it did something to you

× it's been a month and hybrids came and got adopted, yet your new friend wasn't really getting any attention; he really acted terrified and you of course questioned his behavior; you knew nothing of his past but seeing the way he acted it could've been just awful

× as you started to slowly engage in larger conversations with Izuku, it's at the canteen that this time you've been caught staring; at his hands in particular

× he was helping you cook, which he really didn't know how to do but tried nonetheless just because he really enjoyed being around you [ or so you assumed, hopeful ]

× when he realizes where you're looking at, you almost dreaded him retracting from the situation like he used to do but he just looks down at them too and sighs

× "I was at a fighting ring—" he said, pursing his lips "—but I'm a rabbit hybrid... a prey... they used me as a punching bag."

× your heart rips in two as you're speechless; even if you tried to be careful with your movements not to spook the man, you could not help yourself by putting your hand on his

× and that's how Midoriya Izuku died, end of HCs 💀

× just kidding; he almost fainted, face fully red as his ears perked up, staring at you with big eyes yet did not move an inch

× and even if his face would've been adorable in any other situation, his words remained imprinted in your mind as you squeezed his hand in yours

× "I'm so sorry you had to go through that, Izuku" you whispered back at him; he just nodded and blabbered something before continuing with the task clumsily

× boy is broken for the rest of the day, that's what I'm implying

× bad news got to you when you found out you couldn't go to the shelter anymore to help; your hours got increased at work and your shift was all over the place and even if you really did talk with your boss, it was decided that for now you had to adapt

× dread filled your gut when you realized you couldn't see Izuku anymore and with that you noticed how fond you grew of him, that's why you loathed the next visit there

× but— you really wanted to see him more; getting to spend time with him and helping around was what got you through the week...

× you told him slowly that same Saturday and it visibly broke him

× he tears up and tries to mask it as best as he can, yet he nods understanding

× "Will— Will I ever see you again?" the soft tremble in his voice shook you to the core

× "Of course. Every day, if you'd like." you blurted;;;;; he blinks at you, tears stopping just to have his head tilted to the side, ears flopping with the movement. "Would you like to come home with me?" you say, idea just popping in your head and balling it;

× he cries harder then he nods

× everything about your volunteering ceasing for the time was already filled in, you guys just needed to fill some paperwork for him, grab his little to no belongings and get the hell out

× small gym-bag in hand, i sweat to god, this man is overwhelmed with being outside

× stays glued to your side all the time, specially on busy streets towards your home

× once you feel him grab on your shirt just for precaution and you melt?? but let him have it

× once you arrived, you see tension leave his body as he smells his surroundings; mf drops a "It smells like you here" through a smile before realizing what he said and getting all flustered 💀

× sooo you move past that as you can and show him around, a spare bedroom not long ago used by your old roommate offered to him

× you only see his surprisingly muscled back as he enters the room and drops the gym-bag on the floor

× he slowly turns around to look at your face and fat ass tears run down his cheeks, not being able to say a word even if he tried

× hands-down the scene almost gives you a panic attack; he then asks if it's all for him and you assure him that indeed it is when he cries harder...

× ok, that again shreds your heart but it wouldn't be the last time

× like for example the moment of utter disbelief he threw at you when you asked him what he wanted to eat that night and he didn't know how to respond because nobody, ever, asked him; you got that as a response after asking if you said something wrong

× or the following Monday, when you suggested you went to do some shopping for him in the morning, since there wouldn't be many people and it would be calmer

× the look of awe in his face, istg...

× from then on he opens up pretty nicely too; it's such a refreshing sight to see him tell you about how he learned to use the computer, TV, phone— the sparks in his eyes whenever he talks of something new he learned? imagine it and now you've gained 20 more years of lifespan, you're very welcome

× such a soft cutie, i swear 🥺 always asks things about you and gives you the same sparkly eyes when he learns more about you

× it does take him some time to come out if his shell though

× you fastly realize he's a nerd; oops, but it's true, and definitely isn't a bad thing! he just really likes to learn about everything and anything and I feel he genuinely likes to tell you about those new facts

× i hope you like them bc when he learned new cool stuff he made a note to tell you about them bc he thought you'd find them cool too and—

× is very tidy and helps around the house, but when it comes to being social he just freezes

× you ask him if he'd like to go for walks and you see him itching to go out for some fresh air, although the thought of other people...

× with time and small walks around the neighborhood, he overcomes the fear as long as you're by his side

× will definitely want to go back to the shelter to volunteer even if you can't, but the fear of walking there just overtakes him again since he'd have to do it alone

× mentions it though

× his expression is so uneasy bc he feels like a burden

× maybe you could work around your schedule to take him there and pick him up? he genuinely loved giving a hand at the shelter so if you do, Izu would be so thankful

× in a few weeks he'd gain the confidence to walk alone

× one 💕adorable💕 thing he does without even thinking is jumping around you, or just in place

× "Today little Miya got adopted!" he'd say, hopping slightly in place "I could tell they were good people too! They had good intentions... just like when I saw you for the first tim—"

× so he mumbles without thinking;; and sometimes blurts out cute stuff like that but when he realizes what he's saying he gets very shy 🤭

× he has this fluff smol tail but we don't talk about it;;; no, no, it's too much for us, I promise you it's the cutest fucking thing you've seen in your whole existence and it moves a little bit and we all die here???? he hides it though, pft

× so fluffy we gonna dieeeee

× he steals your blankets

× hear me out, omg! he does!! if you have small blankets you just throw over yourself to stay on the couch or anything, sometimes they'd dissappear only to be found in his room; he's very sneaky about it but cracks under [the zero] pressure you put on him, leading him to say "It's because whenever you're not around, I like to have something close to me that smells like yOu! it makes me feel sAfe—" his voice cracks "BUT IF YOU DON'T WANT ME TO, I'LL STOP, I JUST—" he'd placate his hands instantly, apologizing

× tell him it's okay and now your hoodies are gone too lmfao

× he's a muscular guy too so consider buying really big ones just for him to wear;;; after you wore them;;;;;;

× says sorry a lot and that's a thing you have to work with a lot

× if he messes up something, he will apologize instantly; if you tell him to stop bc you don't mind he forgot to put the washing machine as he promised he will act like he's the worst

× as if he feared you'd get angry...

× i know it's a recurring topic but give him time

× whenever you both have free time and hang around the house, he'll be on the couch reading near you

× eyes you constantly and he's so obvious about it it's ridiculous; you can see him from the corner of your vision when he turns his head to check on you so through a smile you have to ask him if he needs anything

× what's fantastic is that he's getting over the point of being scared to speak out around you YET he stutters, blushing

× "N-no, nothing!" but he's observing your comfortable form with much interest

× "Wanna... cuddle with me?" [ 's not like you read about bunny hybrids and how they need skin contact which definitely didn't make you uwu and die in the spot bc that's so 🤧💕😭💘🥺 but you waited for him to show any signs that he'd want that; we're respectful like that, mhm ]

× his fluffy ear twitches

× shock, disbelief, blush

× it twitches again

× blushes harder then nods

× sksjdkdjd he's by your side instantly though with no idea of what to do

× good lord, he's so stiff; why don't you grab a blanket to throw it over both of you, hmm?

× he'd bury himself into it then into your arms and soon he'll find out being there is his favorite place in the galaxy

× since his mind drifted to galaxies, Izu then starts talking about constellations bc he's nervous

× so when you rub his back he melts into you with a happy sigh yet when your hand reaches his hair, almost about to touch the top of his head mindlessly as you hum at his words

× he flinches— then you stop to look down at him, catching him wide eyed staring into nothing

× you don't even know why you apologize; maybe his horrified face?

× but before you can form a full sentence he interrupts you

× "Don't apologize. It's not your fault—" he'd glue his eyes on you "I— I used to get bullied a lot back then... they'd pull my ears..."

× without any other explanation you take your hand away, placing it on his shoulders, mainly feeling out of place again; every time he speaks of his past, it just gets worse...

× "But! But I trust you, [Y/N]. I really do." and he leads your hand back to his head

× 🥺💕💕💕💕💕

× then, with convinced features, he drops his head on your chest and snuggles for some good seconds before it clicked to him

× now he's apologizing

× until you ruffle his hair and he just experiences bliss in real life

× massage his scalp and say goodbye to ever leaving his side, you're now in his firm grip until the end of time but who's complaining

× like he has no shame anymore, it feels that good

× he can hear your heartbeat, as fast as it is, and he snuggles further into you; it's his lullaby

× now let's get to business

× look: he's adorable, sweet, doting, cares about you and about hybrids, he's actively trying to get out of his shell, he's built but tender, couldn't hurt a fly;

× don't lie to yourself, you've got a big fat crush

× little did you know this guy right here liked you from the moment you introduced yourself to him, months prior

× the issue is Izuku is really insecure; after hearing his whole life that he's inferior to both humans and some hybrids, he started believing it

× and comments whenever you're outside with him do not help

× he has a spectacular hearing

× doesn't miss how people whisper about you two, even if you mind your own business doing whatever

× it's mostly older people, judgemental and disgusted with hybrids that call you a freak for having one, that call him an abomination

× he tries so hard to ignore them but his behavior changes back to his silent old self, yet this time he doesn't cower anymore although grips his pants until his scarred hands are white, not answering back to you if you talk

× you have to assume he's again uncomfortable outside so you suggest leaving, not sure how to behave

× he kinda snaps on your way back home when there's nobody around

× stops in the middle of the road, looking down, brow furrowed and trembling lips

× "Am I never going to be good enough for you?" he'd clench his teeth

× "Izu—, what...?"

× the determined glare he sends you stops you in your tracks

× "Because I want to be. I want to be better for you."

× 😳

× basically confesses in a dramatic way as he's overtaken with emotions then screeches bc oh no what if you don't feel the same so "I-It's okay if you don't feel the same! If you're uncomfortable I can move back to the shelter!! I'm so sorr—"

× smooch him pls????

× and share your feelings just to give him a stroke lmfao

× he'll take the initiative to grab your hand and walk home like that, the other on his face covering it

× peck his lips and he malfunctions every time

× but loves it

× be sure of this: after that night, he's so soft for you and won't hide it

× he's a creature of contact, meaning his fingers will linger on your form, he will seek your form, he will want to snuggle his face in your neck, he definitely will stare at your lips for too long bc he's still shy and embarrassed by his confession to make a move; smooch him pt. 2

× he's so— adorable; he finds himself in front of your bedroom door with your blanket in his arms and has an existential crisis

× you see his shadow at the small creak under the door and akfjaksj

× open the door and let him sleep with you ffs I'm having a stroke for him

× can he be the little spoon? or can you two hug face to face? it's just that 🥺 he feels safe with you like that, a feeling he's been always missing

× any time you're in his arms or vice-versa he breathes out as tension leaves his body; best place in the whole universe, no hesitation.

× he's a petty lil shit, let me tell you that, ok??

× someone flirts with you? lol k he's behind looking not intimidating at all but he's frowning, his ears are twitching and chest puffed

× takes your hand just to prove a point

× talking about his hands

× kiss them, caress them, anything

× he just... yes, pls, do that

× whenever you're not looking he's giving you the gentlest smile and even if you notice, his lips will curl even more before he throws a compliment at you

× pretty much likes your reactions bc he's always the one that's flustered the most between the two [ genuinely doesn't matter if you get flustered or not, he just tops that energy 100x more ]

× likes to know he has the same effect you have on him on a daily basis

× will try to find a job at something he's interested in and i definitely see him finding one at a library or something like that

× he enjoys the silence, completely different from his old loud and over the place life, and also loves books

× unrelated hc but i just imagined Izu whispering the words out loud whenever he reads without noticing it; his green eyes focused in the book, face concentrated and ears low to not get in his field of vision; want to make him happy? listen to him and when he finally notices you, tell him to go on~

× he's the embodiment of akfwpdkslfjjwj 💕

× honestly your life with him is peaceful

× the way he loves is gentle, really sweet and it all revolves about peace in your household

× he adores you to no end and thanks you for helping him improve himself

× and getting him out of a life without a goal or purpose

× gets out of his way to help you, always you and wants to prove he's good enough

× he already is and you better tell him

× give this baby all the love he deserves and you'll get just as much in return

× I'm soft for him oml 💘

[tsarisfanfiction]

Earthquake

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort Characters: Gordon, Scott, Tracy Brothers

It was one of those disasters they knew was going to be bad before they even arrived.

Final entry for @whumptober-archive with day 31 “hurt & comfort”​ using the prompt disaster zone.  An apt prompt for a TAG fic!  I had a few things I wanted to hit going into this one, especially involving all the boys, and honestly I just ran out of time.  I should have been in bed nearly an hour ago and that’s messing with my editing brain, so consider this a draft rather than the final thing.

I’ll probably completely rewrite the fic before I archive it because I’m not that happy with how it stands right now, so don’t expect to see it on FFN/AO3 just yet.  I don’t have any idea when it’ll happen, because the worst thing about only having a one day weekend is that everything piles up and I run out of time to do everything on the list... but it’s on the list of things to do when I have time, so hopefully you’ll have that to look forwards to at some point.

Gordon viewed the approaching scene in abject horror as Virgil brought Thunderbird Two in as close as she could go.  Behind him, he was vaguely aware of Alan leaning forwards in his seat, morbidly enthralled by the destruction before them.  Virgil was saying nothing, but his knuckles were tinted with white, and John’s hologram hadn’t winked out of existence post-briefing like he tended to do if there was nothing else to say.

And what was there to say?  Downtown San Francisco looked like so much rubble.  A bomb site, although that was an incorrect conclusion.

Earthquake.

The American city was no stranger to earthquakes, that was for sure, but the sheer scale and devastation of this particular one had left even their fortifications and specially adapted buildings in the dust.  Literally.

That alone was enough to turn the mood over International Rescue sombre; even before they landed and started work, it was obvious that the fatality number was going to be high.  They’d be pulling out more bodies than survivors, despite John’s best guidance from above, but that grim fact wasn’t the only thing that had them approaching the danger zone with a disquieted air.

Tracy Industries had offices in San Fran.  None of their major ones, not like the HQ in New York or its secondary hub in Auckland, but offices nonetheless, and every so often, offices needed visiting by the higher-ups.

The earthquake had coincided exactly with Scott’s visit, and they’d heard nothing from their biggest brother since the quake had hit.  Considering that it had hit in the early hours of the morning, when everyone was still supposed to be asleep in bed, they hadn’t actually heard from him since just before he’d turned in for the US-night, four hours before the quake, but that detail was insignificant against the carnage Thunderbird Two was seeking a landing space in.

Scott wouldn’t have slept through an earthquake.  He should have been on the wire to John immediately, or certainly as soon as he knew what was going on.  He definitely should have answered at least one of John’s many, many frantic hails.

He hadn’t, and that had them fearing the worst.

The rescue itself, for the most part, passed in an adrenaline-spiked blur.  Not particularly unusual, especially with something of this scale and such a high mortality rate – getting too emotionally invested only ever ended badly – and Gordon was grubby with dust, dirt, and blood smears when his brain re-engaged fully to throw everything into a very sharp relief.

He hadn’t known that he was working the sector where Scott’s hotel had been.  John hadn’t given him that information, and he hadn’t asked for it, but as he found a dust-coloured, limp hand sticking out from beneath a pile of rubble, awareness slammed back.

It wasn’t that he recognised the hand – there was no way of recognising any hands in the mess of this disaster – but that he recognised the watch.

Scott never took his watch off when he left home.  It worked as his comm, leaving him constantly connected to Thunderbird Five, and by extension the rest of them, and never raised questions with anyone else, because watches doubling as phones were commonplace nowadays.

Even if Scott’s was Brains’-created, and therefore rather more than most people’s watches.

Gordon might not recognise his brother’s hand underneath the dust, but he certainly recognised the watch.

He grabbed hold of the hand, rather more desperately than he intended to.  “Scott?”

Intellectually, he knew that there wasn’t likely to be any response.  His brother was buried, had been buried for several hours.  If he was still conscious-

The hand twitched.

Gordon froze.

“Scott?”

Fingertips curled loosely, a touch too light to even be considered a grip, but Gordon was hyper-aware of every movement his brother’s hand made.  Those were definitely conscious actions and he cupped his own hand over the weak fingers.

“I’ve got you,” he promised. “We’ll get you out.”

The fingers twitched again.

Reluctantly, Gordon pulled one hand back to slam it against his comm.  “Virgil!  I’ve located Scott.  He’s buried but conscious.”

“Is he talking?”  It was John that responded.

“Negative.”  Gordon grit his teeth.  “I’ve just got his hand.”

“See what level of response you can get,” Virgil ordered.  “I’ll be over as soon as I can.  Alan, what’s your status?”

Gordon tuned out his younger brother’s response, focusing on his allocated task.

“Scott,” he called, “squeeze my hand once for no, and two for yes.  Do you understand?”

For a moment, there was nothing, and he feared that Scott was less conscious than he’d originally thought.

Then came two twitches.

Gordon’s shoulders sagged with relief.

“Virgil’s coming to dig you out,” he told him.  “You’re too buried for me to get out alone.”

Two more twitches.

“Let’s talk about you, shall we?” he continued, wrapping his other hand back around Scott’s.  “Can you move?  Twitches don’t count.”

There was no immediate response, which was typical Scott and gave Gordon his answer even before the reluctant single twitch eventually came.

That wasn’t a surprise, but it did tell Gordon that Scott was going to be a nightmare during recovery because he was almost certainly injured.  An injured Scott meant a grounded Scott, and a grounded Scott was not fun to be around.

He kept talking to him, as much as anything to try and make sure his brother stayed conscious, as well as to keep him reassured that he wasn’t alone, until Virgil arrived with the jaws of life, Alan hot on his heels.

They both zeroed in on the hand Gordon held, and he could see the moment they recognised the watch because Alan’s eyes widened, and Virgil’s jaw set.

“Let’s get him out,” his older brother said, stepping forwards.  “Gordon, you need to get out of the way.”

Gordon didn’t want to let go of his brother’s hand, but Virgil was right.

“See you soon, Scott,” he said, and got a double twitch in response before he gently set it down on the rubble.

Alan was hanging back, clutching a hoverstretcher, and Gordon joined him as Virgil exercised the mechanical muscle to start the process of digging their big brother out.

It took some time before he got enough shifted that the pale, dust-covered and red-smeared face of Scott could be seen.  Gordon wasted no time in springing forwards, leaving Alan in the dust as he dodged around where Virgil was still working on freeing his torso to kneel by Scott’s head.

Blue eyes were half-lidded at best, drifting towards closed despite Scott’s clear attempts otherwise.  The red smearing down the side of his face seemed to come from a graze rather than a direct blow, with fragments of rubble embedded in the skin.

“Hey, Scott,” he said, lightly brushing dust-coloured hair back from the wound.  “You’re not looking too hot there.”

His brother opened his mouth silently, mouthing words and scrunching his face up in frustration when no sound came out.

“Take it easy,” Gordon insisted.  “Once you’re clear we can get a medscanner on you and see what the damage is, so you don’t need to try and tell us.”  Not that they’d take anything Scott said at face value, anyway.

Scott’s eyelids fluttered closed for a moment before snapping open.  It seemed like the lure of unconsciousness was strong, and Gordon was not a fan of Scott passing out when they didn’t know how bad it was.

Virgil grunted as he moved a particularly large chunk, and Scott let out a pained gasp.  Gordon ran his hands over his brother’s hair soothingly.

“It looks like his legs are in a small air pocket,” Virgil reported after a moment, crouching down. “Alan, get that stretcher over here and we’ll see if we can move him.  I don’t want to move any more of this rubble if I can help it.”

Glancing up at the rubble in question, Gordon realised that it did look rather precarious.  If they moved the wrong thing, Scott might well end up buried again.

“F.A.B.,” Alan responded, voice shaking just a little, before appearing next to Gordon.  He seemed unable to look away from the limp body, eyes wide and round even as he mechanically set up the stretcher.  Gordon shifted around until he was in a better position for moving Scott, never breaking contact with him, and clouding blue eyes followed his movement sluggishly.

Scott wasn’t going to be clinging onto consciousness for much longer.  He probably wasn’t going to make it through being moved.  Gordon grabbed the medscanner off of Alan and deployed it, praying that Scott wasn’t too seriously injured.

Multiple hairline fractures flagged up, especially around his ribs, and Scott’s body might as well be one huge bruise waiting to form, but all in all he seemed relatively intact. If he tried, he could probably move now he wasn’t pinned, but Gordon wasn’t going to be encouraging that any time soon.

“Get his hips,” he ordered Alan, hooking his own hands under Scott’s arms.  “Make sure his legs and feet don’t snag on anything while I pull.”  Virgil and his mechanical arms were bracing the rest of the rubble, making sure nothing fell as they worked and leaving the actual extraction to the youngest two.  “Move him on three.  One… two… three.”

He heaved, Alan guided, and the ragdoll that was Scott slid free, eyes flickering closed and this time not reopening.  Gordon wished he was surprised as they manoeuvred him onto the stretcher.

“One Scott extracted,” he reported to John as Alan set the jets going and Virgil tentatively released the precarious rubble the moment they were clear.  “He’s unconscious, but I think it’s pain and exhaustion, not a specific injury.”

“Understood,” John replied. “Will he need a hospital?”

“We should manage at home,” Virgil interjected, appearing suddenly behind him and peering over his shoulder at the scan results.  “The hospitals are going to be overrun and there’s nothing life-threatening in the scans.”

“F.A.B.,” John acknowledged. “Virgil, sector eighteen are asking for some heavy lifting assistance; they’ve found a pocket of trapped people.”

Virgil heaved a sigh and straightened.  “I’m on my way.  Gordon, Alan, get Scott settled in Two’s cockpit.  We’ll need the module to transport the rest of the injured.”

“F.A.B.”  That was a sobering thought; Thunderbird Two’s module had a huge capacity.

But then, this had been a hell of a disaster.  In the scheme of things, Scott had been lucky, not that he looked it on the stretcher, all pale and dust-covered with streaks of red where debris had scraped him and pyjamas torn beyond all saving.

“Let’s move, Alan,” he said, gripping the head of the stretcher and starting to tow their big brother away from the remains of his hotel.  “This rescue isn’t over yet.”

Just because Scott was safe didn’t mean everyone was.  Back in Thunderbird Two, the two of them docked the hoverstretcher in place at the back of the cockpit before leaving food and drink in easy reach in case Scott woke up before they got back from dealing with the rest of the danger zone.

One monitor attached so they could make sure he wasn’t worsening, and John deployed to keep half an eye on him while he worked, and they reluctantly left him to get back to work.

[mandoinevarro]

Deep into the Wilderness

Words: 4.7k (this was supposed to be short but, alas, i am an asshole) 

Rating: E

Warnings: Smut, sex pollen :0, dubious consent (see: sex pollen), a bit of size kink ö, multiple orgasms :O, light descriptions of blood, magic nature if you’re in the mood, incredible coincidences if you’re not

a/n: i genuinely thought this would be a lil drabble :/, also fuck snakes all my homies hate snakes

There’s something wrong about the stars.

Nights in the Tatooine desert are usually dim and still, as stoic as the Mandalorian who’s been journeying across the endless dune sea with you in your little caravan of two. These past few days, you’ve noticed that the jagged difference between coarse sand and smooth beskar are no obstacle for his ability to blend perfectly into his surroundings. For days, you’ve seen the bounty hunter cruise the barren wilderness like he was born in it, climbing the mounds of sand leisurely and offering his hand when the treacherous ground gives in under your feet and you tumble forward. Ever the gentleman. Silent and observant, he tends to adapt to the elements around him and mimic their energy, until he becomes part of the landscape. Tonight is no different.

The normally scattered and shy desert stars have all gathered in a cluster right above your modest campsite, blinking down at you white and yellow and red against an electric blue sky, bright enough to spare the need of a fire. You feel watched. The stars’ ghoulish eyes above trail your every movement. Waiting to witness something.

Yes, a meek voice inside lies for you, it must be the stars, as you purposefully try to ignore the crushing weight of the Mandalorian’s trained gaze on you, much heavier than the strong beskared arm resting on your upright knee. The tube of bacta ointment moves awkwardly under your fingers and, Maker, you know it won’t be enough. The small holes on the wool covering his arm reveal two angry red pupils gushing blood where the snake’s fangs pierced him; pupils that stare amused at the medical salve that they know and you know and Mando knows will do little neutralize the unknown toxin. You sit so close to him you can hear the hitch of his breath when you pinch the tube and white balm oozes onto your finger.

“I—Mando, I-I think we should get help.” It doesn’t help your nerves that the man to your left hasn’t stopped staring at you since the ruby red viper appeared from under the sand like a conjuring, going straight for the Mandalorian’s arm and slithering back inside its hiding place beneath the dunes before either of you could react. It was unnatural; desert creatures tend to linger in the shadows and never attack unless provoked. Then again, everything about this particular evening—including the bounty hunter—seems to be slightly off, like when something in a familiar place is moved, but you can’t figure out exactly what.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” the voice under the modulator scratches at a  lower register than usual, gruffier in a way that would excite you and warm your belly if you weren’t so worried about the liquid currently poisoning his bloodstream. It must be the pain. “Two days by foot to the nearest town. Just use the bacta.”

You gulp and nod as firmly as you can manage, trying to quiet the whisper saying that bacta won’t cut it this time as you get your finger closer to his arm. It’s strange that he asked for your help—the bite is right on the pulse point of his inner elbow, where he could easily do it himself. Maker, just focus. He must have had a good reason to ask you. Plus, you’re not about to miss the promise of even the slightest physical contact with the Mandalorian, even if the situation is not exactly as you’ve fantasized all these months.

Your finger presses lightly into one of the gaps, and with a bit more force when you hear a raggedy exhale leave him. The opening the snake left behind is too small for your finger, and most of the bacta gathers around its edges, while barely any gets to the wound.

“I, um…I need to cut it—t-the fabric,” you stutter and, stars, you sound like an idiot, getting nervous over applying balm when you’ve seen him cauterize his own injuries with a steady hand, much to your horror. You can feel the way his eyes feed from your words as they study you carefully, somehow strengthening the gravity pining you to the ground. A strange static crinkles in the air between you, so real you almost hear it, and for a moment you feel the weight of his stare move past your face, lower down your body. By the time he finally nods and signals towards the open medical kit with a tilt of his helmet, you’re warm all over.

Stretching your torso just the right amount so that his arm doesn’t slip from your knee, you reach straight for the scissors in front of you. Your fingers pinch the fabric to lift it while your other hand works the clippers, cutting with tiny snip-snip-snips that do little to fill the tense silence between you. Why it’s even tense to begin with is beyond you. Sure, Mando got bitten by some unknown creature that could potentially be lethal, but the invisible rope getting stretched from both ends more and more between your bodies has little to do with the mishap. Stars, it feels like it’s pulling you closer and pushing you apart at the same time, and the arm on your knee suddenly feels like it’s burning through your pants. What would happen, you muse as you crank your wrist, if the rope gave in?  

The scissors close their circuit, and you lift a small circle of cloth, leaving the clippers aside. It’s a little bigger than it needed to be, but the Mandalorian doesn’t complain when you properly apply bacta on the lesion, sitting like a statue with the visor shining dark blue at your face. The stars reflect distorted on his helmet with judging eyes, like they can hear your thoughts. Like they just know how being so close to the man you think about to warm cold nights is making your heart pump more blood that you need. To places that definitely don’t need it.

You raise your other hand and rest it on his bicep. It’s only to pull the sleeve a little higher. To give you more room to work. And it’s only with that touch that he flinches.

You immediately lift both hands. “Sorry, I—I’m sorry, does…does it hurt—?”

“—No.” Mando moves his good arm and grabs your hand roughly, bringing it to rest on his bicep once again. He clears his throat, unable to wash away the grainy strain on his voice. “No, it—it’s fine.” His large palm stays over yours for a moment, before pulling away slowly. Reluctantly.

You nod and continue your ministrations, massaging a little more bacta than necessary on the bite. Maker, you never want to stop touching him. The patch of olive skin burns hotter than the planet’s twin suns under your touch, and you feel under your other hand how every shift of your finger makes his bicep jump in response.

His flesh absorbs the ointment fast, and you’ve now covered even the surrounding area around the bite, so you lift your finger, a bit disappointed that your little moment of intimacy is over. Until you feel him tug at his end of the rope.

“Cut more,” he breathes, and you freeze before you can lift the hand off his arm, staring right at the visor with eyes round as moons.

“Cut—cut more? More cloth? Wh—”

“The venom will travel up my veins.” Mando’s voice is a little steadier, but it still doesn’t mask a strange tint of something that doesn’t sound quite like pain. “You need to check how far up it goes. If…if it goes into my chest…”

He doesn’t need to finish. You shuffle to your knees—a little clumsily because of the sand beneath—and let his arm fall to his side as you squeeze his strong bicep a little tighter. For support.

“Tell me when to stop.” The blades cut away at the fabric, revealing a vertical line of lovely skin with each snip. They go higher and higher, higher and higher, and it’s you who decides to stop when they almost reach his armpit. You rest the scissors next to your legs. The slit uncovers the upper half of his arm’s underside, and you can’t help it when one hand moves to rest on the pauldron and the other slips under the crevice to caress his skin.

Mando’s chest puffs with more air and moves quicker, and—fuck—he looks so broad like this. Sitting and injured, he still towers over you with the beskar and the mass of muscle beaten into him through years of fighting.

He could crush me. The idea pools hot in your core.

“What, uh, what am I looking for?” Your own voice is thick. It’s wrong, but you’re honest enough to admit it’s arousal.

“T-the veins.” You hear him gulp and imagine the apple on his throat bobbing up and down. “Feel around. Che—check if they’re protruding.” You comply, dragging your fingers up and down his burning, strong arm, getting caught up in how he tenses under your touch. He’s pulsing, sure enough, beating like a drum under your hand—you even manage to raise goosebumps when you give a test squeeze—but you can’t feel any veins.

“No.” The hunter exhales with relief and nods once, but his arm doesn’t follow, as it remains taut as wood. You don’t remove your hand. He doesn’t pull away. If anything, he leans into you.

An soft breeze raises a small cloud of sand and cools your face, whistling past you while it orders you to do it. “If it’s not pain,” you murmur, deciding it’s your turn to tense your end of the rope a little, “what do you feel?” You scratch your nails down his arm.

The gloved hand furthest away from you balls into a fist, clutching sand. “It—it, uh. It burns.” The words are dragged out and gritty, like they’re forcing their way out. He shivers and shuffles closer to you. “But—fuck—feels good. You—you feel good.” Encouraged, your nails sink into his flesh, testing the waters. Finally, it earns you a grunt, deep and rumbling its way between your thighs. In a split second, his arms fly to his shoulder, tugging at the cloak desperately, and you remove your hand from the opening to help him. It takes a few rough jerks, but the cloak eventually rips away from his pauldrons, and the Mandalorian throws it back. His hand travels to the side of his torso closest to you and signals. “Cut here.” He doesn’t offer an explanation this time.

Shit, you probably shouldn’t. But wetness is gathering around your folds and you’re not sure if you’ll actually get anywhere, but, Maker, you’re willing to try. Your hand is trembling when it finds the scissors next to you and you crouch slightly to cut away, eager and desperate to reveal more of the mysterious bounty hunter. This time, though, you don’t make a crevice, but instead cut a long rectangle from his waist to the side of his chest. You drop the scissors and the piece of fabric on top of the cloak and waste no time before your right palm crawls into the opening. Boiling skin welcomes your hand as it explores his naked torso, up a sturdy chest rising and falling rapidly, and back down again, savoring the sensation of soft skin over firm muscles flexing under your fingers. You stop at a trail of hair near his navel.

The Mandalorian growls. You scratch the hair lightly. The rope snaps.

Your hand slips outside when two hands grab your hips to lift you, setting you down to straddle Mando’s lap. You fall ungracefully, wobbling and grabbing at him to find your balance, until his steel arms wrap around your waist to press your chest to his. You grab his shoulders for support, and your warm breath clouds the beskar of his helmet. Your hips squirm unconsciously, making your core accidentally rub against something hard between the hunter’s legs. His grip on your back tightens and grinds you against him again, making him release a deep, primal moan against your ear. Fuck, you feel how hot liquid plops on your underwear as he ruts you against his erection, but somewhere in the back of your brain a puzzle solves itself in a snap and sends a pang of guilt to your chest.

“M-mando.” You sound whinier than you intended. “Mmando, I—I’ve heard about this, you’re poisoned, y-you don’t know what you’re d—”

“—Shut up,” he spits at you and pushes you roughly against him as a hand unwinds from your waist and wraps over your mouth. Your moans are muffled against his glove when a current shocks your body as your clit rubs just right over his bulge. You glance up at the stars, looking for guidance around the overwhelming pleasure threatening to break you, but they only stare back, burning brighter than before.

Suddenly, Mando pulls his hands away and pushes you off his lap. You fall back kneeling, worrying you’ve crossed a line somehow, but your anxieties disappear when you see him rip off his gloves and pull at your clothes hastily. You take the hint and help him undress you. The top garments he removes, but your underwear is ripped away and thrown to the side.

He whips around and finds his cloak, laying it on the sand and silently ordering with a finger to get on top. You shuffle on your knees until they reach the soft material, and—just when you’re about to turn around and beg him to touch you—the Mandalorian lifts the rectangle of cloth you cut away and wraps it around your eyes. Your vision gone but impossibly turned on, you feel his hands shove you back until you lay on the cloak.

Sand and hair tickle your face, and maybe it’s not the best idea to lay completely naked in the middle of a desert where you already know dangerous animals hide. The thought is quickly washed away by the heat of humid breath on your stomach. It throws you off for a moment, to feel a human gasp so clearly against your skin, but once you put two and two together the realization hits you so hard you slump limp on the ground.

The helmet…

You barely have time complete your thought. The Mandalorian climbs on top of you, a tuff of hair tickling your stomach. The trail of heat stops at your tits, where he takes a nipple into his mouth and bites down hard. You whimper to the sky.

“F-fuck, what—” He cuts you off when he laps at the injured nipple with fast, wide strokes of his tongue, before sucking hard on it. One palm holds down your chest, as the other comes up to squeeze your other breast, kneading and pulling the soft flesh like dough. You try to bite down your whimpers, but it’s too fucking much and they tumble outside urgent and needy.

Fuck, you should push him away. You both need to calm down before he forgets your body is attached to a living, breathing person and tears you apart. You—you—

The atmosphere seems to fall down on top of you when two thick fingers sink to the hilt inside your open hole effortlessly. You hum at the bliss while Mando’s wet tongue travels between your breasts, up your sternum, and leans into the curve of your throat, stopping only until it reaches your chin. You’re starting to cramp beneath him, trying to push down on his digits, but his body is too heavy over yours and fuck, fuck, you want him inside you.

His hand wraps around your cheeks and presses them together, making your mouth give in to the pressure and open up wide. His tongue—still salty with the taste of your own flesh—barges into the cave of your mouth and messily drags across its walls, your tongue, the roof, somehow everything at once with aimless movements that lack rhythm or pace.

And then his fingers start pumping. They start fast and hard and only get faster and harder, as they curl into a hook and hit something that makes you see the stars outside through the blindfold. Mando moans against your teeth, and you swallow every vibration.

“Yeah? T-there?” His mouth moves away from yours and trails the edge of your jaw, stopping at the edge and biting your neck. The two fingers working inside you push upwards to make room for a third one, and the calloused pad of his thumb rubs your clit up and down. Your scream echoes in the empty space of the sterile desert, now buzzing with life. “R-right there? Hm?” His voice hangs thick in the air, mixing with the loud static in your ears. Through the haze, you wonder momentarily what his face looks like right now. Probably red and sweaty, popping a vein or two.

“Fuck, I don’t k-know…I—I have to…” The Mandalorian removes all three fingers at once, making you yelp at the emptiness that they leave behind. Your pussy clenches a second too late and pulses around nothing, as you move in the darkness to find him again. You open your mouth to beg, but he grabs your shoulders before you can even gather some broken vocabulary together and he turns you around, pressing your chest and face against the cloak.

Resting your cheek on the cloak, you grunt at the abrupt change of position. Five fanned out fingers press down between your shoulder blades, restricting your movements and compressing all the air out of your lungs. You can’t breathe and you can’t wait, too stimulated to backpedal now, but not enough to be satiated.

An arm wraps around your midriff and roughly lifts your hips. You hear heavy breathing behind you and some incoherent mumbling, as a zipper lowers.  

Something round and smooth pokes at your entrance.

Is…is that…?

It definitely feels like the head of his cock as it runs up and down your folds gathering moisture. It even twitches a little against your clit and he’s grunting with every movement but…but even without your sight to help it feels so big. It can’t be his cock, in what universe would he be that fucking bi—

A grunt and a slight retrieval of his hips for impulse is all you get as a warning before he slams into you, lurching you forward. It knocks every single thought out your head, jamming what little air you’d managed to inhale on your trachea. The stretch bites, straining against your walls at an uncomfortable angle. And then he grinds further inside, deeply and hard as the bulbous head of his cock stimulates just about every nerve inside your pussy at once. You choke on your own cry, desperately trying to hold on to some sanity as you focus on processing the burst of pleasure that casts a dark shadow over the pain. The feeling secures every muscle on your body so tightly you think your spine is going to snap.

And he holds there, pulsing angrily and breathing down hot against your shoulders. You feel a slow trail of flames burn your insides with every strong sequence of thum-thum-thums of his thick cock against your walls.

Stars, did he cum?  Is that why he’s throbbing so violently, did he cum? It’s hard to tell when you’re so wet you’re sure you’re going to dehydrate tomorrow and fuck you only get wetter with the strumming and Maker you know the snake was poisonous but…but could he really want you this much?  

He sucks in a gulp of dusty air through his teeth, grunts and holds you tighter, his arm strong as beskar around your midriff and a burning palm pressing you against the cloak, sinking it deeper into the sand.

Finally, the Mandalorian pulls out with a grunt, your hips following his with a sucking sound because of the grip of your walls against his girth. He stops right before the tip slips out, its ridge catching on your opening. And maybe whatever venom running through his veins dissipated because he doesn’t move for a second that feels like an eternity. Fleeting disappointment surges inside you because maybe…maybe it was just the serpent. Maybe he doesn’t really want you. You are the only fuckable thing for miles, and you’ve heard enough about the toxin to imagine how desperate he’d be. Stars, you feel like such an idi—

Mando’s hips suddenly crash against yours, sinking himself to the hilt.

You feel him everywhere. Fucking everywhere, even where he isn’t. The fat cock hammering into you randomly with no pace or metric, seemingly determined to taste every inch inside your cunt takes most of your attention, but the hand on your back kneads and pulls the thin skin there as best as it can. You try to brace yourself against something solid—anything—but when your hands form fists they find only handfuls of sand, and the delicate particles do nothing to steady you from the animalistic thrusts of the Mandalorian.

So you moan, long and high to try and release all the pleasure stockpiling inside of you with no exit routes. Mando answers with grunts all the way down in his glottis. A deep and angled snap of his hips hits you somewhere electrifying, and you feel something hot and liquid knot your pelvic muscles tighter. His skin slaps against yours obscenely, paired with the squelching of your pussy trying to engulf him deeper and deeper in spite of his size.

“T-take it,” you hear him growl behind you. Barely. Your ears ring and you can’t even listen to your own whimpers anymore. His length keeps coming, restless and infinite and fuck, you need to focus on something else, something outside to keep your head from slipping away. “Just—just f-fucking take me whole, you—"

Fuck, focus. Focus, count to ten, do something—

You grit your teeth and you can’t even warn him. Something drops into your pelvic muscles and you swear you can see the blue desert sky in a flash behind your eyelids and feel the blinking stars prickling the nerve endings on your back, making you spasm desperately. Your head spins, and you only feel pleasure. Only him.

Still half-passed out from your release, you hear it before you feel it. The wet sound contrasting the dry dunes of how he keeps using your cunt to get himself off. He’s not letting you come down, fall to the natural next step of your cycle and relax. Breathe. No, he keeps filling every last inch of you, faster now with the help of the additional wetness and holds you in that state of euphoria that keeps hitting you like a tide. Shit, are you cumming again?

“F-fuck—fuck—d-did you—ngh—cum? W-was that—” Another wave hits you and you clamp down mercilessly around him before he can get an answer. His long moan gets you wetter somehow, and you can’t even savor it before the strong forearm holding your waist pulls you upright against him.

Up is down as you try to figure out in the darkness where your body ended up. Something slumps behind you and pulls you down with it hard against the cushioning of the sand. You find yourself impaled on the Mandalorian’s cock, his chest to your back. He bends and opens his legs to grab yours, pulling them back and hooking them around his cuisses. Propped up with most of your weight on Mando’s hips, your feet barely graze the cloak below them.

You reach up to touch him but he beats you to it, wrapping his arms around your torso and grabbing the surely bruising skin of your tits. Your eyes roll back and you try you best to keep your head above the water, which proves incredibly difficult when you feel his lips on your jaw, his drool trailing down your neck. You turn your head and he doesn’t miss a beat before his tongue slips between your lips, tasting and exploring and almost drinking from you like you’re water in he’s been stranded in this desert for years.

Mando thrust up at you, resuming his senseless fucking. And maybe you’re a little greedy. Maybe it’s wrong, especially because you don’t have an excuse to act like this, but you roll down into his cock, wanting him everywhere and for as long as you can get him. His thrusts are almost impossible to meet and his thickness catches at your opening, but you work diligently—determined to have him buried as deeply as he wants to go. The beskar of his chest trembles against your shoulders with a vibrating, noiseless moan.

“You—you pretty t-thing,” he breathes lowly against your mouth. You grab his knees for support and push down harder. “I’ve want—wanted this—w-wanted you f-for so—so long.” He bites your lower lip. His voice sounds delirious.

Maker, it’s ridiculous. You’re bouncing your pussy on his stiff cock like an animal in heat, but his words warm your chest more than your core. You know it’s probably the poison talking, but you indulge in it. You let your hand cradle his cheek and bring your lips sweetly against his, pretending you’re his lover and not just a vessel for his release. He gasps into the kiss.

It’s with your lips that he finally lets go. It happens midthrust, so his cum spurts out of you and dribbles down his cock. It smears on your folds and, surely, on the cloak beneath. Stars, you’re shaking. Your legs spasm with the promise of another orgasm that almost—almost happened. Still holding you, Mando pulls out, and the rest of his seed spills on wool and sand.

What now? If not the sweat and the fucking, then his release surely evacuated the venom by now. The Mandalorian pants behind you, just as spent and exhausted, and what the hell are you supposed to say to each other now? You squirm uncomfortably at the dilemma, and your slit accidentally drags against something upright beneath you. Mando winces at the contact.

Maker, is he still hard? How—?

Fingers dig into your arms and force you forward and away from him. You fall on top of the cloak, barely pillowing your fall with your forearms before you feel the Mandalorian turning you around to face him.

You lay open below him, ruined and confused in the darkness as to what he’s planning for you next. Your clit pulses with equal parts arousal and apprehension at the uncertainty, but it decides for the former when you feel him dip his fingers in your entrance and scoop his cum and yours. The sound of him pumping himself faster and faster is muffled by his moaning. It’s filthy gibberish: loose words of everything he’s dreamt about doing to you; of how he’s going to fuck you over and over again; of how you’re going to take every drop of him; of how good it’s going to be for you.

Four fingers land on your clit and work it wetly up and down. A whine escapes you and you’re so sensible it almost hurts and your head swims and he’s still talking but there’s something…something sincere about his words. Something that hides beneath the frantic movements against your bud that feels almost reverent. Like the snake’s toxin only lifted a veil, revealing the Mandalorian’s pent up lust and primal instincts below his layers of unyielding discipline.

“S-so, so fucking good for me, so—"

You cry out when your walls tighten around nothing with powerful contractions, deciding at some point of the frenzy that consumes you that you’ll take advantage of this queer land and the limbo its night has thrown both of you into. Deciding you’ll let the Mandalorian explore his more primitive urges and fuck you into tomorrow, whatever “tomorrow” may mean for your relationship with him.

The sound of him fucking his hand quickens and you hear it closer to your body. You can’t tell exactly where.

“I—I—gonna c-cum.” His voice tightens in his throat. “Where?”

“Everywhere,” you answer breathlessly, and you mean it.