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lonely-lost-soul · 3 years

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Immortality and Nymphs Pt. II

(Philza x reader)

Kisses. God Phil missed your kisses against his skin most of all, you were always so warm and gentle. He couldn’t wait for you to be a constant in his life once again, he walked all three of you back to his home. Wilbur was eyeing you the entire time almost like he was trying to find the differences between himself and you, thinking, The boy looked much more like himself than he did you, but there were tiny similarities here and there. You didn’t seem to mind though when he asked you questions you answered them truthfully. Once they arrived back at his house Wilbur stood up a little straighter,

“As much as I’d like to stay and talk more, Fundy and I need to get going.” He trailed off a little looking at you, “I still have thousands of questions but I have a revolution to plan.” Wilbur continued as you raised a questioning eyebrow, Phil’s wings ruffled a little as he cleared his throat.

“You should come back next week with the others.” Phil gave a slight nod of his head, “I’ll send a crow to Techno.” Fundy was the one to whip his head and nod eagerly, Wilbur adjusted his glasses but eventually nodded.

“That should work.” Wilbur turned to face you taking a shaky breath, “I’ll see you then?” A tender smile spread across your lips as you reached out to cup Wilbur’s cheeks.

“I’m not going anywhere again baby boy,” You whispered as he flushed hesitantly leaning into your touch “I promise.” He pulled away, clearing his throat taking Fundy’s hand as he waved.

“Bye, grandpa! Bye, grandma!” The fox hybrid called and Phil watched as you flushed deeply. Phil wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close, his wings spreading around your body like a cocoon. You giggled softly as he nuzzled his face into your neck, his beard prickled your skin, you missed the feeling.

“Fundy seems sweet,” You mused as the man behind you kissed the skin of your neck. Phil only hummed in agreement which caused you to laugh, “you’re so not paying attention to what I’m saying are you?”

“What?” You burst into laughter at his genuine confusion, “Come on now. I missed you, can you blame me? You’re distracting.” Phil let out a little huff as you pulled away to face him,

“Then show me how much you missed me my crow,” You purred running your fingers through his feathers, you felt his entire body shiver as his breathing hitched. His fingers dug into your hips,

“Careful. They’re sensitive and wouldn't want a pretty thing like you to get hurt.” Phil teased pressing his forehead against yours,

“Oh, I remember.” You winked teasingly as Phil leaned in to swallow your words with a blistering kiss. He felt you melt against his body as his wings fluffed up, both of you poured all your love and admiration for each other into one another. It was then Phil knew nothing changed between the two of you even after all these years apart, there was still the same amount of love and longing you always shared. Phil lifted you into the air and you hooked your legs around his waist, he felt young again, back in the forest by his old home. He felt you giggle against his lips and pull away to rest your forehead on his own, he chased your lips almost desperately. Your hand came up to cup his cheek and he closed his eyes to lean into his palm, “Take me inside first.” You murmured and his eyes lit up mischievously.

“If I remember correctly you never had a problem with making out in the woods before.” He watched your face turn beat red as he smirked proudly, he adored getting you flustered which way to Sunday.

“Yeah well, I’ve lived in the woods all my life. I think I’m ready to stay with my adoring lover in his house, is that really such a bad thing?”

“No. I’d never be opposed to something like that, not when I’ve missed you this much. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, living with you and raising Wilbur, being a family.” He watched you visibly wince and guilt ebbed at his heart, “Hey, hey you had to do what you needed to. I’d rather have you alive and here now than dead or worse.” Phil reassured and you seemed to relax a little bit in his arms,

“I wish I could’ve been here to raise Wilbur with you...I wish I could’ve seen him grow up.” Your voice wavered a little as Phil pulled you close, he hesitated slightly trying to find the right words to say.

“I wish you were there too. But you’re here now, you’re safe and that’s what matters. Plus…” His cheeks flushed a soft pink, “we could always try again.”

“Jesus Christ Phil,” you giggled covering your mouth with your hands and he looked embarrassed. “I just got home Crow, let's give it some time. But...I’m not opposed in the future.” Phil’s face lit up again and he nodded rapidly, he could agree with that, maybe once you built a better relationship with Wilbur and his other boys that’s when the both of you could try again.

Oh god, the other boys. When he invited them all here next week, he hoped they’d make a good impression if not Dadza was going to craft a belt.

“How long has it been since you’ve had an actual meal?”

“God decades!”

He chuckled deeply, kissing your cheek, and led you into his house to have a nice warm meal. Having you around definitely took some getting used to, his days suddenly shifted around as he accommodated for another person but he didn’t mind. Phil woke up happier than he'd felt in a long time, you were curled up against his chest, the top of your head was right under his chin. He ran a hand through your (h/c) hair, letting it run through his fingers, even though it’s been about a week he still felt like you weren’t really beside him.

Wait a week.

His eyes snapped open and he shot up like a rocket, feathers flying everywhere as you groaned, “Crow? Everything alright?” You asked adorably rubbing your eyes, his stress melted away momentarily as he watched you wake up. A few flowers bloomed in your hair as you came to your senses.

“Everythings fine! Just remembered it’s Sunday and the others don’t usually follow set times.” He pulled you from the bed giving you a quick good morning peck on the lips. “Get dressed, something nice I wanna show you off,” He kissed you again longer this time you giggled.

“To who? Our son and your friends?” He gave a happy little nod, as you rolled your eyes, he felt your fingers fix the hair on his face, Phil closed his eyes and leaned against your touch. “But I’ll do as you wish my Crow,” You stood up from the bed and stretched your arms above your head. Phil had managed to get some clothes for you from a nearby village, he still remembered your style, but tried to make it more modern so you didn’t stick out like a sore thumb. You slid on the new clothes, they hung off you loosely. They clearly needed some tailoring, and you slid on the boots he got you the day before, as much as you like walking around barefoot it was pretty impractical.

“Shall we?” Phil held his arm out to you, you wrapped your arm around his own as he led you outside. You both stood on a hillside covered in soft green grass and a big willow tree. Phil looked down at you, his big wings gently covering your back from any danger, he was sure not feeling the grass between your feet was a foreign feeling to you but you didn’t seem to mind. The smile on your face said it all, you were peaceful and relaxed, letting the breeze flow through your hair. “You’re beautiful,” your eyes snapped up to him your cheeks turning light pink,

“Oh stop it old man.” He made an indignant sound as you laughed, your hands reached up and dragged him down to your level, kissing him tenderly. Phil felt his eyes flutter closed and his wings drop, he was snapped back to reality by loud whistling. You pulled back and he pushed you behind him, wings puffing up defensively, standing on the side of the hill were Wilbur, Tommy, Technoblade, and Fundy. Tommy was the one whistling eyes sparkling mischievously, Wilbur whacked him on the back of the head to get him to shut up.

“Dad! Wil’s being mean to me!”

“Don’t be mean to Tommy Wil,” Phil pressed his fingers to his nose with a sigh “Wilbur don’t antagonize your brother.” Fundy was cackling at their mischief, your eyebrows shot up on your forehead and Phil cleared his throat, face pink. Technoblade just stared seemingly eyeing you suspiciously, “(Y/n) these are my other sons. Boys this is (Y/n) Wilbur’s birth mother.” It was Technoblade’s turn for his eyebrows to raise and Tommy’s jaw dropped to the floor,

“No shit.” Tommy gawked, “You don’t look like her at all Wilbur! You’re so ugly, must’ve gotten that from Phil. Sad.” You burst into hysterical laughter watching Phil glare over at Tommy. Wilbur was seething at his sibling but ignored him in favor of giving you a light hug,

“Good to see you, mom.” He whispered,

“Good to see you too.” Phil heard you respond and hug him back, Wilbur whispered something to you and you made a little surprised face before nodding. Phil assumed he told you that the other boys were not in fact his biological children, but those he had adopted. Fundy soon joined in the hug snuggling into your stomach, you ruffled the young fox’s head and he chirped happily. Tommy walked over to introduce himself to you next, he proclaimed to be not only Phil’s favorite son but Wilbur’s favorite brother too. Which lead him to then boldly declare he’d be your favorite as well and Wilbur sent him a scathing look, ah yes, Phil knew that look rather well. Wilbur inherited that look from you, nose all scrunched up and eyes sharp. You shook the young boy's hand and happily told him you couldn't wait to see him fall into the number one spot. Wilbur shot you an offended look and Phil covered up a laugh with his hand, the offending look was sent to his father next,

“Dad.”

“What?” Phil laughed holding up his hands, “If he wants to win your mother’s attention I’m not gonna stop him. Every man for themselves.”

“Phil,” You nudged him with his elbow “be nice.” Tommy began to boast about how awesome he was in comparison to his brother, you sent a wink to Wilbur’s, and his shoulders visibly relaxed.

You were his number one, anyone with a brain could see that.

Phil noticed Technoblade had his eye on you the entire time, it took him much longer than the others to gain trust. He decided to walk away from you to stand by the hybrid's side, “Hey mate.” Technoblade only grunted in response, arms crossed over his broad chest protectively, “What’s crawled up your butt eh?”

“You didn’t tell me ‘bout her.” He motioned in your direction with his chin, “you tell me everything. Why not her?” Technoblade was trying to remain stoic but after all these years he could tell he was hurt. Phil sighed softly scratching the stubble on his chin as he watched Fundy run around you trying to fight for your attention.

“It was hard for me to talk about, she didn’t leave on her own free will. Her life was in danger and I didn’t know if I’d ever see her again. It was a shock when she came back last week, a good shock but a shock nonetheless. (Y/n) was my everything, is my everything. I kept it from everyone because I hoped it would keep her alive and safe from those who wished to harm her.” Phil looked over at Techno, for once Phil’s eyes showed his true age, “I’m sorry mate you know I would’ve told you if I could. Doesn’t take much for me to start gushing ‘bout her. I mean look at her.” Phil glanced back over at you, Fundy was on your shoulders, his hat on your head, meanwhile, Wilbur was wrestling with Tommy on the ground. You looked over at him desperate for his help and Phil only smiled over at you and shook his head. Your eyes screamed distressed as you tried to get the boys to stop fighting, Phil felt Techno’s eyes on him and he looked back at his son and friend.

“I understand I suppose,” Technoblade sighed rubbing the back of his neck, “You wanted to protect her. I can’t be mad at you for that, but no more secrets alright? Promise me?”

“Promise. Now go say hi to her before she gets upset and thinks you don’t like her,” Phil nudged him forward and his eyes widened a little,

“Heh? Phil hold on-”

“(Y/n)! This is Techno.” Phil clapped the man on the back, you looked up at him with a kind smile.

“Pleasure to meet you Technoblade, I like your cape.” Phil watched the man flush in embarrassment at the compliment,

“Eh...thanks. Like your flowers.” He motioned to the flowers blooming in your hair, you beamed brightly at him, always happy to talk about your flowers.

“Thank you, sweetie!” His ears turned red and he waved you off anxiously, he moved to peel Tommy away from Wilbur, wanting to get out of this conversation. Fundy hopped off your shoulders to tackle his father and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in, “wow. They’re…”

“A lot?”

“Yes.” You laughed fondly, “but…”

“I wouldn’t trade them for the world.” Phil nodded kissing you on the apple of your cheek,

“Good. You better not. They’re all my sons now. I hope you know that” You leaned against his chest, he laughed and you felt his chest rise and fall.

“I’d expect nothing less from you.”

Letters. That’s how most of you communicated in the years to follow, Wilbur would send letters and you would beam in delight. It melted Phil’s heart, he knew his son was busy with the revolution and the now Presidency but he wished he’d visit his mother. You would write him back almost immediately after receiving a letter, you’d seal the letter with a kiss before sending it off with one of Phil’s crows. Afterward, Phil would take you in his arms and pepper you in tender kisses, you would giggle and snuggle into his arms. He told you he loved you, and you cooed and told you loved him back, then you both would share a kiss. Phil loved those days the most, seeing you truly happy made his heart swell. There were days where Phil taught you how to fight, days where you would garden, and days where he let you groom his feathers. He loved that, grooming was another one of the things he missed the most, you got out all the tangled feathers just perfectly. He would lean back against your hands head falling on your shoulder as he panted, his pupils were blown wide as you hummed fondly.

So, maybe Phil enjoyed it a little more than he remembered.

It was a cold autumn day when the letters stopped coming, you were heartbroken, always anxiously petting and feeding his crows. They could sense your disappointment in waves, it was almost choking Phil himself, his heart ached to see you so sad. He pets your hair gently as you both sat on the hill with the willow tree, he noticed the bags under your eyes were dark, Phil’s frown only deepened.

“My love please smile for me, I’ve missed it so much these past few weeks.”

“Somethings wrong,” Your voice was soft looking up at Phil “He wouldn’t just stop writing to us. He always writes to us.” He hated the way your voice quivered, “what if he changed his mind about me?” Phil shushed you softly with a kiss,

“First of all, there’s no way he changed his mind about you. The way the both of you bonded these past few years, Wilbur wouldn’t throw that all away for no good reason.” He tried to reassure you, “Although, I will admit this is strange. Wilbur isn’t one to not write to me, it’s something he’s always done ever since he was old enough to spell.”

“Crow…” You whispered, “can we visit him? Just to put my mind at ease...please.” Phil’s heart melted as soon as he saw your puppy dog eyes, he nodded and you smiled.

Good. He was going to keep that there as long as he was physically able.

The next day, Phil scooped you up in his arms and you headed towards the direction of his son's new nation.

It was called L’Manburg if Phil remembered correctly.

What the both of you didn’t expect to see was a war zone, “Phil…” You murmured eyes wide in fear, he held you to his chest, your brow furrowed in worry. He swore he could see Tommy and Techno looking up at them from below, it didn’t ease the anxiety prickling at his skin, the sky suddenly went black with crows.

A bad omen, something bad was going to happen, and they knew it.

“Phil they’re distressed. Somethings wrong.”

“I know hon,” Phil looked around worriedly, he spotted a glance of Wilbur walking into some sort of room. He landed just outside the entrance, he put you on your feet, “Stay behind me.” He instructed you, you nodded your head clutching onto his bicep. The both of you stepped into the dimly lit room, there were scrawlings etched into the wall, all scratched in by Wilbur. Your brow furrowed in concern, fingers dancing across the lettering, “what’re you doing?” Phil spoke, his tone flat and serious, looking dead at your son, wings spreading out behind him.

“Wilby?” You asked softly as he slowly turned around, his big brown eyes were wet and wide.

“Mom…” He whispered, “I didn’t want…” Wilbur looked away from you and grit his teeth, “Welcome to L’manburg. Sorry, you have to see it like this, war-torn and broken. I wanted you to see it in its prime, a shame you didn’t visit sooner.”

“Wilbur, don’t do this,” Phil said watching his son look longingly at the button in the middle of the wall, almost with longing. “This is your country, it can be fixed. Things can be rebuilt, it’s where you raised your son,” Phil continued his entire body tense and nervous he was too aware of the sword on Wilbur’s hip. Phil reached out his hand as you walked towards Wilbur,

“Baby boy…” You whispered tenderly, vines slowly growing out of the cracks in the floor. “Don’t do this I only just got you back, please think about what you’re doing.” Wilbur’s brow furrowed watching you smile softly holding out your arm, “Everything will be alright I promise you. We can help you.” He let out a wet laugh running a hand through his brown curls, his pointed ears visible.

“It’s not the same nation anymore. There was a special place where people could go but it’s not there. It’s no longer the nation it once was Mom.”

“It is there. You've just- You've just won it back, Wil!” Phil spoke up in opposition to his son.

“MOM, Dad, I’m ALWAYS SO CLOSE to pressing this button, Phil! I've BEEN HERE like seven or eight times, I've been here seven or eight times...Phil, I've been here so many times…” All of you jumped a little at the sound of crackling fireworks outside, “They're fighting. They're fighting!” Phil and you glanced at one another, there was a beat of silence.

“And you want to just blow it all up, You fought so hard to get this land back... So hard.” You argued reaching out to cup his cheeks, he melted into your palms, snuggling into them like they were his last lifeline.

“I don't even know if it works anymore, Mom, I don't even know if the button works, I could, I could... press it.”

“Do you really wanna take that risk?” Phil laughed, “There is a lot of TNT potentially connected to that button.”

“Phil... There was a saying, Phil. By a traitor. Once part of L'Manburg. A traitor- I don't know if you've heard of Eret? He had a saying...It was never meant to be!” He tossed his hand back and slammed it against the button, you let out a devastating shriek pulling Wilbur into your arms to try and protect him from the blast. Phil felt pure adrenaline enter his bloodstream as he flew towards you and his son. His wings wrapped around the both of you and you whimpered, some of his feathers caught fire and he squeezed his loved one’s harder. Wilbur meanwhile let out a roaring cry “MY L'MANBURG, PHIL! MY UNFINISHED SYMPHONY, FOREVER UNFINISHED! IF I CAN'T HAVE THIS, NO-ONE CAN, PHIL!”

“Oh, my god…” Phil spoke, his voice quivering with horror, Wilbur looked down at you, hurt and pride swam in his eyes,

“Are you proud of me mama?” He whispered softly as your thumb caressed his cheeks, Phil glanced down at you ignoring the pain in his wing, your eyes were wet but you were still smiling.

It didn’t reach your eyes.

“I’ll always be proud of you Wilbur. I’m your mother, and I love you, I’ll always love you.” He let out a little cry, you were so genuine with him, your love was smothering him. Wilbur looked up at his father and grabbed his wrist,

“Kill me, Phil. Phil, kill me, Phil kill me!” Wilbur broke away from his hold and tossed his sword Phil’s way. Phil caught it in his arms the lines in his forehead creasing with worry, “Phil, stab me with the sword, murder me now, kill me! Killza, Killza, do it! Kill me, Phil! Murder me! Look, they all want you to! Do it, Phil! Kill me! Phil, kill me!”

“I- You're my SON!”

“Wilbur NO! PHIL DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!” You cried as Wilbur shoved you away from him, your growing distress caused vines to spill into the room, filling it with greenery, nature wanted to protect you.

“No matter what you- dude, no matter what you've done, I can't-” Phil’s voice cracked, his knuckles turning white against the hilt of the blade.

Wilbur slammed his fist against the wall, “Phil, it's- LOOK! LOOK! HOW MUCH WORK WENT INTO THIS, and it's GONE!” He grabbed Phil’s hand and shoved the point of the sword into his chest, “Do it. Do it.”

“PHIL!” You sobbed grabbing onto his other arm, eyes red and puffy, fat tears were running down your pink cheeks.

The man squeezed his eyes tightly, his throat closing up, he couldn’t look at you, he could feel the look of horror that was slowly spreading across your face.

“Phil. I’m begging you we can get him help, I can’t lose him. Not again, not when I’ve only just got him back.” You choked out, “he’s my baby. He’s our baby.” You were clinging to Phil desperately, your smile was gone, he failed you and he failed his own son.

“Do it, Dad.” Wilbur interrupted you, you let out a desperate cry and Wilbur shushed you softly, brushing away your tears. “It’s better this way,” Wilbur leaned down and kissed your forehead, “I love you and I forgive you.” He looked back at Phil and his disintegrating right-wing, guilt ate at him, “It’s time.”

Phil let out a deep breath, jaw tense and he felt you bury your head in his uninjured wing. He ran his sword through his son’s chest, Wilbur fell forward against the blade, he choked on the blood in his mouth, it flowed out of the corners and stained the front of his shirt. Phil felt you move to look but he covered your face with his wing once more, “Don’t look darlin’” He whispered as your sobs only increased, Wilbur slowly died in his arms with a smile on his face that would forever haunt Phil’s nightmares. He stroked Wilbur’s hair as he slowly faded out of existence, three lives completely snuffed out, Phil was part of giving him life and was the one to take his final one. Once Wilbur was gone you crumpled to the floor loud sobs echoing in the chamber, he fell beside you and wrapped you in his arms, you clutched his beanie to your chest.

“It’s alright. It’ll be okay.”

“Okay! Philza Minecraft how the FUCK is this gonna be okay!” You snarled in his arms but he only held you tighter, “Our son...our baby is dead.” You choked holding your hand to your mouth, the vines that had grown started dying feeding off your agony. “He’s gone…” You whimpered letting Phil caress your hair and plant kisses on the top of your head.

“We’ll get through this. I promise you.” He swore up to you cupping your cheeks within his hands, you sniffled a little and gave a small nod of your head. You were drained emotionally and physically, Phil’s heart ached in his chest.

“You’re hurt…”

“I’ll be alright,” He tried to stretch out his wings he flinched as pain shot up the right side of his body. Phil’s wing was charred to bits, you both knew the unspoken truth that he’d never fly like he once did, Wilbur wasn’t the only thing Phil would mourn.

“We need to set up a grave for him. Under the willow tree, I’ll plant yellow flowers. That way he can always be close to us so long as we live there,” You looked up at him eyebrows pinched so tight “Please.”

“You don’t need permission Darlin’.” He whispered to you resting his forehead against your own, “If that’s where you want it that’s where it’ll be.”

“Good.”

Phil slowly helped you to your feet, you weren’t injured, a few cuts and scrapes he took the majority of the damage from the explosion just like he had planned. He hissed as he tried to put pressure on his left ankle, “Fuck me. I’m too young to need a cane.”

“Eh,” You smiled weakly “Wouldn’t say that.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You giggled softly, your laughter significantly improved his mood, even if it was a minuscule adjustment. “We all can’t be as spry as you,”

“What can I say some of us have it and some of us don’t.” You smirked slightly hearing another loud explosion go off in the distance, “the Withers. Technoblade spawned them didn’t he?” Your eyebrows furrowed in thought and Phil gave a little nod,

“Most likely.”

“Our boys, they can’t do anything without explosions can they?” You shakily whispered and Phil couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh,

“Guess so,” He shrugged limply as you slipped Wilbur’s beanie on your head,

“What now?” You looked up at him through wet eyelashes, Phil caressed the back of your head,

“We go home, bury what’s left of Wilbur, and take a look at my wings to assess the damage.” Phil watched you nod numbly against him, “it’ll be a long walk back.” He groaned rubbing his eyes and you rubbed his back soothingly.

“Let me handle that,” You reassured and he raised an eyebrow the both of you moved to leave the structure neither one of you wanted to put up with anyone, you both had lost a son and wanted time to mourn. Plus, it seemed Tommy and Technoblade were busy fighting. Phil watched you with careful eyes allowing himself to lean against one of the trees that survived the explosion. You placed your fingers in your mouth and gently whistled, not only did a crow from a tree flutter by but a wandering horse as well, you really were an animal whisperer. The crow ruffled its feathers and cawed loudly at Phil, he shot the crow a look and flipped it off, meanwhile, you worked your magic taming the horse in a matter of moments. “Come here Crow,” You held as your hand and he fell into it, you helped him onto the horse and he shot you a look,

“I’m not riding on this horse with you walking on foot. Switch with me.” Phil tried to argue but you shushed him,

“You took an explosion to the back. Take a breather, relax, nature helps me heal anyway.” You hummed fondly as he slumped against the horse reluctantly, it took about an hour to get back home, Phil had lost all feeling in his wing and wanted nothing more than to curl up with you and go to sleep. As the looming willow tree came into view Phil heard you sniffle and clutch his son’s beanie on your head,

“(Y/n)?”

“I-I’m alright.” You cleared your throat shaking your head, “Let’s get you looked at before anything else, okay?” Phil too exhausted to argue only nodded limply, you helped him inside and set him down on a chair. “Spread your wings for me,” You commanded, helping him stretch out his wings. He cursed, only feeling pure agony shoot through his right side,

“Ow! Fuck me!”

“Sorry, sorry,” You whispered out tenderly rubbing the base of his left-wing. The mixture of pain and pleasure was foreign but not completely unwelcome. “Oh, Phil…” You trailed off hesitant to touch the damage that was inflicted, “I don’t...I don’t think-” You chewed the bottom of your lip, but Phil got the message, he wasn’t going to be able to fly as he once did, maybe ever again. His flight feathers were singed to hell, completely burned away, not to mention the patchiness of his other feathers. His shoulders slumped forward as he ran a hand down his face, he was exhausted, he felt the coolness on his wing as you spread some antibiotic on the injury. “I’m sorry,” You kissed the back of his neck and he shivered at the feeling. “We’ll bury what we have tomorrow, you need rest.”

“I’ll be fine-”

“Phil, I will force you into bed. Don’t fucking test me right now, I will force you if I have to.” You hissed out glaring daggers at him, he should be threatened but he just felt oddly aroused.

He decided to attribute that to how fucked up he felt today.

Phil allowed you to tuck him into bed as gentle as you were capable of doing, “I’m going to send out some letters. I’ll join you in a little bit.” He felt you remove his hat and run your fingers through his blonde hair, he leaned into your touch like a kitten. As soon as you shut the door, Phil was out like a light.

Phil found out the next day that you had sent a letter out to both Tommy and Technoblade, you wouldn’t specify what you sent but you seemed a bit more relaxed than you had the other day. You both didn’t get a chance to bury what was left of Wilbur until a week later, Phil’s healing process was slower than he could’ve imagined. Phil reluctantly had to use a cane to get around easily, his crows laughed at him but you were also so kind and careful.

You were an angel.

The two of you buried him under the willow tree on the hill where you’d met the other members of your odd family for the first time. Technoblade had shown up at your doorstep holding out a large box inside of it was a stone tombstone inscribed on the tombstone was Wilbur’s name and date of birth and death. It had surprised Phil that the hybrid even agreed to make this for you, but at the same time, he was Phil’s adoptive son and closest friend, he appreciated the gesture nonetheless. Phil had placed Wilbur’s coat and beanie into a box and placed it under the ground. You had kept your promise and had grown little yellow flowers around the site of the burial, and the two parents mourned the loss of their biological son. Technoblade stood close by a hand resting on Phil’s shoulder in hopes to soothe him at least a little bit, Phil would never admit it but he appreciated the gesture.

Little did the three of them know, a small smile spread across a young ghost’s face. He picked at the sleeves of his yellow sweater, maybe he could give both of them some blue sometime to help them heal.

He had a feeling they’d like that idea.

~~~

I usually don't tag people in my stories but I figured a lot of people wanted a part two:

@xx-smiley-xx @dreamsofficialwife @dirtydiavolo @thatguythatsshy

@shinyshimaagain @little-odd-dude @theultimatewifu32 @hee-hee-haw @thegeekishere

601 notes · View notes

razzle-berry · 4 years

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I have to get this off my chest cuz damn if no one wants to say it, I will! We all know how shitty Quirk society is when it comes to mutation quirks, being quirkless, subtle quirks, or quirks that are just perceived as evil. So I’d like to request hc’s of Shoji, Shinsou, Aizawa, and Fatgum with an s/o that hates people that judge quirks or try to let the bullshit slide.

For example, Shoji’s s/o dislikes Pony from Class 1-B for how she insulted Shoji’s appearance despite not knowing him at all, so she tends to keep a stone face or glare on anyone like that unless they apologize. Would deadass say “He’s not the monster here, you are.”

Shinsou’s s/o would openly call people cowards/idiots for antagonizing Shinsou’s quirk when it could be used for interrogating villains and subtletly get information from enemy sources, so she’s more than happy to defend him and others like him.

And Aizawa’s/Fatgum’s s/o just openly points out the bullshit ethics of the society for how no one should be discriminated or ranked for their quirk since they can’t help being born with whatever quirk they have and even calls out pro-hero’s that holds the whole “flashy quirk >” mindset *cough*Endeavor*cough* since it could demotivate and make others insecure about being a hero or even using their quirks at all.

This was long but quirk discrimination got me heated and I rarely see anyone talk about it or do hc’s about it.

I feel you. I hate this so much too especially because so many people have or may have suffered in the show because of this! I was actually just talking about this with one of my friends earlier lol.

There's going to be a bit if a stylistic change with this hc so bear with me please.

Warnings: Discrimination, swearing, Y/N is about to go off on someone, slight angst ig

Character(s): Shoji, Shinso, Aizawa, Fatgum

Mezo Shoji

Let’s just start off by saying that anybody who has the audacity to call Shoji a monster can catch not just his your, but my hands as well. This man is so strong, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well to not let the blatant discrimination turn him away from wanting to be a hero. (Absolutely no hate to those who did go down that path because of it though, they still valid)

Shoji can, for the most part, handle himself in these situations. While they hurt, he grew up having to deal with it and is sadly used to it

But the first time you went off on someone for judging him, it made him fall deeper in love

“How dare you!” The cafeteria chatter and traffic in the mall seemed to freeze in time as your voice carried out. In front of you was a rather tall man who could have been considered attractive if not for his ugly words. Mezo stood behind you, looking at you in shock at how angry you had become.

“Mezo is an amazing hero, and even better person, and you have the absolute nerve to insult him because of how he looks?”

The man started to sweat underneath your heavy gaze, as well as the whispers that started to grow around you two. Mezo decided to step in and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Darling, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not.” You sent him a brief smile before turning you glare onto the stranger. “You’re not the monster here, he is.”

Hitoshi Shinso

He’s used to people referring to him as a villain the second they know what his quirk is and by the time we the audience meet him, he’s accepted it

He’s fallen into such a deep pit of insecurity, it’s a wonder he even managed to accept that you weren’t afraid of him, let alone have romantic interest him

The first time he saw you jump to his, or any other person that's like him, defense he was in shock.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Hitoshi stopped and stared at you in shock.

A small villain had tried to keep the restaurant hostage for some reason or another and had a woman at gun point as he talked to the police outside. While currently not on duty, Hitoshi still had his licence and controlled the villain to safely return the woman to her family and turn himself in. He tried to go comfort the woman and see if he needed anything, only for her to scream at him for having such a villainous quirk. Naturally, he was upset but he was willing and ready to move on from the unfortunately common situation and just go back to his lunch date with you. Seemed like you had other plans.

"This man just saved you, and you want to call him a villain? How much of a child do you have to be to think that someone's quirk determines what they become. Hitoshi is a wonderful hero, and his so called 'villainous' quirk has helped save hundreds of people!"

Hitoshi took your hand and started pulling you away from the woman, as you were getting closer.

"Calm down, it's fine. I'm used to it."

"Well you shouldn't be! It's people like this that create the villains in this society. Not everyone is as stubborn as you, hearing that you're going to be a villain based on nothing but something you can't control would break someone enough and have then actually turn into a villain!"

You looked at the woman in absolute rage and disgust.

"I hope you're proud of yourself."

Shota Aizawa

He someone who not only grew up with a non flashy quirk, but also is a hero without a flashy quirk. Barely anyone knows who he is because of that, as well as his underground career. While that's a good thing, all things considered, he was and is still a victim of hero society's discrimination

Shota doesn't like UA's entrance exam because it's impractical, and we know he knows that the bias allows for talented potential heroes to slip through because they're not flashy or physically strong. He would have first hand knowledge of this since it almost happened to him.

You, on the other hand, weren't a hero. At least not one like him. You helped people like him know that they're still able to become heroes, no matter what other may say about their quirks and he loved you for it.

"He might not have a strong physical quirk that allows for flashy moves to appeal to an audience, but that doesn't mean he isn't useful, or powerful."

You two were on a date when a fan, if you could even call him that, had walked up to Shota and started asking questions. All was okay until he asked if he ever felt bad for not being as powerful or useful as someone like All Might or Endeavor.

"Yeah, but he's-"

"His own person with his own accomplishments that you probably never even heard about because the media didn't care enough. He's worth so much more than a fancy quirk and a camera ready smile. Now, go back to whatever you were doing, we are busy."

Shota chuckled and allowed you to pull him along.

"You didn't have to do that, you know."

"Doesn't matter, you are an amazing hero and I don't appreciate anyone saying otherwise because of something so stupid as a flashy quirk. Especially when they compare you to fucking Endeavor of all people!"

Fatgum/Toyomitsu Taishiro

Toyomitsu has a quirk that, on the surface, doesn’t seem very useful for hero work. I imagine that he was made very aware of that growing up, and even as he debuted as a hero.

Not to mention that his quirk, when activated, makes body shape turn into an almost oval, vague snowman shape so that might have set some people off. For such a friendly guy, that would have been a cause for insecurity at one point seeing as he genuinely wants people to be happy.

You were someone who never saw him like that and held him through tougher nights when the media got too harsh on him. You were even someone not afraid to get in front of a reporter’s camera and tear them a new one.

“What kind of a ridiculous question is that?”

It was a few weeks after his debut and some people were still mocking him for his quirk. On the surface, fat absorption didn’t seem like much and for someone who doesn’t know Toyo- excuse me- Fatgum (he’s a hero now, you thought proudly), it might even seem useless. But you knew better, and you thought that it was about time others did too.

“Just because Fatgum’s quirk isn’t flashy and destructive, it doesn’t mean he should feel inadequate next to someone who does have one like that, and I don’t appreciate you insinuating that he should.”

The reporter recoiled slightly, and tried to stutter out a response.

“I'm- I'm not-!"

"Fatgum is already an amazing hero, and he's only going to get better. So you can take your prejudice and find a new job because clearly being a reporter is not a good field for you!"

"Sugar, it's okay!" Fatgum placed his hand on your shoulder and smiled. "I'm just going to have to prove them wrong!"

His cheery demeanor was enough to calm you down a bit, but still you couldn't resist shooting the chastised reporter a sharp glare, causing them to shrink back. You smirked at the sight.

"You already have."

#bnha #bnha x reader #shoji mezo #shoji x reader #hitoshi shinso #shinso x reader #shinsou x reader #aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #eraserhead #eraserhead x reader #fatgum #fatgum x reader #taishiro toyomitsu #taishiro x reader #tw discrimination #slight angst #but not much

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floatingbook · 3 years

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Goddammit, thank you for that Page post. I've read discussions about it on tumblr, ovarit and even saidit, and EVERYWHERE the so called feminists were shitting on her for... Being short ig?? Having a big forehead?? And like you said calling her a "teenage boy". This honestly made me feel so disgusted, especially since I'm also short (taller than Page tho) and gnc.I guess this whole thing proves how actually difficult it is to unlearn the misogyny we grow up with :(

Anon was referring to this post. And these kind of reactions are draining. They just make me so, so tired. I mean, a lesbian, one in the public eye, who has spoken before about how she’s been abused and harassed, who has spoken about the shame and self-hatred she’s had to face for being a lesbian, who’s always seemed uncomfortable in “feminine” clothing, and decides to wear the clothes she’s comfortable in and cut her hair in a manner that appeals to her — and let’s be honest, none of the women criticising her when the Time article came out were commenting on lesbophobia or how Page’s decision impacts public perception of lesbians and sex stereotypes; all that mattered was her appearance — and every woman with spare time and zero empathy just decide to insult her style choices. Talk about community, talk about sisterhood. I guess I’m a “ugly teenage boy” too if they pass me in the street and women’s liberation is freedom to dunk on lesbians.

It’s misogyny, plain and simple. A woman has different political beliefs, and instead of criticising those beliefs, that woman is reduced to her appearance and her experiences lose all credibility, she is discounted, because she doesn’t have the right appearance. She’s an “ugly teenage boy”, she’s a “hag”, she’s “unhygienic”, she’s “old”, no man is ever going to want her, she’s gonna end up alone. The same old trope, rehashed, and always directed at women. But yes, I guess the women trashing Page’s choice of plain tees, jeans, sneakers and short hair can call themselves “feminists” because they do know how to spot a woman (read here: the appropriate target for a reduction to appearances only). Given that climate, it’s no wonder Page turned to the gender nonsense to get a break. At least no one there is giving her shit for just wanting to exist*.

Moreover, I thought one of the point of feminism was that no woman owes you beauty? That no woman owes you a performance to have her opinions considered, or to be extended, you know, basic respect? But I kept seeing women acting as if another woman had to fit their own standard of appearance to be afforded that basic respect. And it’s really funny (and by that I mean terribly sad) how feminists normally agree that make-up, high heels, flimsy and short impractical clothing are part of the tools men use to oppress us daily, but as soon as a woman rejects them she’s dog-piled? Way to encourage the behaviour you want to see in the world.

It’s also lesbophobia unleashed. There’s never this level of vitriol to criticise heterosexually-partnered women in the public eye who perform extreme femininity, even if their behaviour is way more negative for all the women and girls who come across media where they appear. It’s always directed at lesbians who refuse to conform, who refuse to perform femininity, who choose to exist in their natural state. These women don’t seem to be bothered by who will be hit in the cross-fire. They forget that what Page was wearing in these pictures is the kind of clothes any woman might wear to be comfortable. They forget that there are plenty of lesbians out there who feel at home in that kind of clothes and who wear them daily. They forget that the very women they’re always asking solidarity from are also a direct target of this rabid appearance insulting.

I don’t think it proves how difficult it is to unlearn the misogyny we grow up with; I think it highlights how many women don’t care about unlearning that misogyny. They aren’t even trying. There is no remorse, as highlighted by this anon I got, who should have been able to get it. It looks like for many women, at least in the “Western world”, feminism is just a space to vent about how mean men are, before going right back to the status quo. There’s no want for change, no real will for action. And lesbians keep getting called would-be-men, like the old homophobia. The world is still the same.

*Again, I don’t caution her choice, hating your body and the misogyny/lesbophobia you face is never going to be solved by pretending you can identify out of oppression, but that’s not really the subject here. The subject is criticising women for their physical appearance and for choosing practical clothing (which is misogyny).

#misogyny #homophobia #political disagreement is no excuse for misogyny or lesbophobia.#you don't need to resort to attack on other women's appearances to make your point

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deus-ex-knoxina · 5 years

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neil josten, music major

so neil has to fulfill a fuckin fine arts requirement. UGH.

he is not a fan of this because it is not exy, it is not practical, it is not useful, it is not related to math he will never need it

but the administration thinks it’s necessary for some fuckin reason, so. he looks over all his options and chooses a music theory class, because out of all of his options it seems like the one least likely to actually make him do art. like, theory. that’s the opposite of practice. right???

but eventually he discovers, as so many disappointed music majors do, that music theory is fULL OF FUCKING MATH. SERIES AND SET THEORY EVERYWHERE. M A T H.

unlike the other people in his class, who are generally either a) music majors or b) non-music majors who are also not math majors and really just wanted to get this GE out of the way, neil is t h r i l l e d

he just happened to stumble on the ONE branch of fine arts, as far as he knows, that actually contains math. so this is like. him just using stuff he learned in math classes two semesters ago. the professor loves him

this is long but tumblr is absolutely refusing to let me put in a read more im so sorry. pretend it was here

(the professor also isn’t quite sure why neil was completely apathetic about the class until she introduced the concept of a harmonic series, since a harmonic series is not a very intellectually exciting topic, but he’s engaged and putting in effort so! not gonna question that too hard!)

and listen, at this point, neil knows his major doesn’t matter. he’s going to be a pro exy player. his classes are just a way of giving him a few extra years to train before he starts looking at contracts.

and he is someone who appreciates intellectual challenges. this is a man who decided to major in math. math. and neil finds the whole concept of music theory interesting, because it’s so... irrelevant to survival? someone invented music, and then later on, someone decided to analyze music, and now it’s a whole ass field of study

he finds himself signing up for another music theory class for the next semester. presumably, it’ll get more complicated as he gets further in. more math.

also, music is something neil can’t quite work out how to conquer yet-- the subjectivity involved, and the understanding of phrasing and rhetoric, is exactly the same stuff he has trouble with in writing. his ear is nowhere near as good as most of the other people in the class, because neil has never been someone who listens to music a lot, if ever.

it’s a challenge. neil josten does not back down from that shit. he tackled learning languages, beat math into submission, and is well on his way to conquering exy. and he’s a little tempted to make music theory his newest victory.

the music theory major doesn’t have a lot of required courses, enough that he could easily switch majors. part of neil rebels at the idea of majoring in something so impractical-- the part of him that still remembers mary’s advice and yells at him for not hiding from cameras.

neil listens to this part of him, and he does what he does best: he tells it to fuck right off. as long as neil plays exy, it doesn’t matter what else he does.

he goes to that music theory I professor and asks her to be his advisor and help him figure out changing his major, and she is still completely mystified but at the same time strangely honored? because her class made this math major who was clearly only taking it for the GE completely change his mind and decide to study music. hELL yeah.

she does warn him that music is a time-intensive major, but neil dismisses that. he’s never really listened to music before. he can start. he doesn’t need to keep his ears open for cars or passerby while he’s out on runs anymore. he can listen to music then, and when he’s doing warmups

he also forces kevin and andrew to listen to the music out loud with him at night practice. they’re not amused but also what are they gonna say?? no?? this is a weird new Phase Of Neil but he’s happy so. they give in.

also the professor was 100% right and neil is swamped for the rest of his time in college, but he’s also not a performance major so that saves him a lot of time because he’s not taking lessons or anything.

and he starts figuring out how piano works. he has to search up some tutorials, but he knows how to read music now, and it’s not a great leap to translate sheet music to a piano. neil’s hands carry a lot of significance to him-- they’re scarred, and they are one of the keys to his success at exy-- but this is the first time he’s ever used them to produce something beautiful.

also, he uses them to produce things that are horrifically ugly. really just the worst noises you can imagine on a piano. because neil is still neil.

he also discovers that kevin is surprisingly good at picking up melodies, because at one point kevin corners him and angrily hums a few bars of a gluck piece before asking what the hell it’s called because it’s been stuck in his head for two days and he can’t get it out

neil desperately tries to get the orange notes to let him compose a new palmetto fight song for them. by the end of his third year, he wears them down.

at the foxes’ first game in neil’s senior year, fifth-year andrew takes one step into the inner court for warmups and says, ‘did you fucking write that?’

he sure did and neil josten is like a proud mama listening to the orange notes play their new fight song.

he yells out some notes during the game. christy is half a beat off for like half of the b section and she’s messing up the other trumpets. he likes the extra flourishes the drum section has added. the backliner marking him is utterly baffled

unsurprisingly, he still finds a way to make his senior thesis about sports

#neil josten #music major!neil #aftg #this got loooong

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celsidebottom · 4 years

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The final day of @sashaweek! Today’s prompt was Scars.

I couldn’t do a Sasha themed event and not throw some Aphroguedite in there, so have some soft girlfriends.

Thank you to everyone who ran and participated this week! It was so fun and amazing to see what everyone came up with for our favorite stabby rogue <3

Sasha glowered at her reflection. No matter which way she rearranged her hair, that bright white spot was particularly evident, and she hated it. Not that she cared much for her other scars, particularly the one on her back from Bertie, but this one annoyed her the most.

Sure, she could grow her hair out and hope to hide that one patch, but long hair was impractical, and the bleached area would probably grow longer and more unsightly too.

“Knock knock,” Azu called as she gently rapped her knuckles against the door. “Everything alright? You’ve been in here a while.”

Sasha tried once more to cover the white hair with her dark locks, to no avail.

“I hate this hair,” she groaned. “This white spot, it just…”

“Why don’t you like it?”

“Look at it! It looks so wrong. Like, I know that the thing that gave it to me was wrong too, but I wish I didn’t have a reminder of it every time I see my reflection.”

“May I?” Azu asked, holding open her arms. She respected Sasha’s boundaries, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t always ready to offer a hug, particularly when her beloved was having a hard time.

Sasha leaned sideways into the embrace. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It can’t be easy to remember what happened. But, for what it’s worth, and it is in no way meant to say your feelings aren’t legitimate: I really like it.”

“You do?”

Azu giggled. “I do. I think it’s cute.”

With a mock scowl, Sasha looked up at Azu from where she still rested in her arms. “I’m not cute.”

Azu laughed, and Sasha smiled at the sound. She wasn’t thrilled about being considered cute, but for Azu, she didn’t mind so much.

“We can always try dying it again, if you’d like,” Azu suggested.

“Nah, it didn’t work last time. I’ll just have to get used to it. Which I think will be easier since I know you like it.”

“I don’t want you to try and accept it for my sake. I… Sasha, I love all of your scars, because they mean that you’re here. You have survived so many unthinkable things, and yet you are here, alive, in my arms. Scars or no scars, I love you the same, and I am grateful that none of those injuries took you away.”

Sasha looked away from where Azu still held her and scanned her appearance in the mirror. The white hair, the burns on her neck, and the blue scars on her hand were bright and vibrant reminders of the things she’d been through. It was easier to avoid examining the autopsy scars or the imprint of Bertie’s falcon armor; she just wore clothes that kept them hidden at all times.

But she also remembered how Azu delicately traced the lines of each scar with her fingertips and kissed them. How, when Sasha’s hand burned cold with the memory of the ice dagger exploding, Azu held it tight until it warmed up. How Azu never shied away from the marred parts of Sasha, and loved her all the same.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be totally okay with them,” Sasha admitted. “But if you don’t think they’re ugly or gross or bad, then, maybe it’ll be easier for me to try and get used to them.”

“If you want me to or need me to, I will remind you every day that your scars do not define you. None of them do. Not the ones on the outside or on the inside.” Azu pressed a slow kiss to Sasha’s temple, right on top of the white patch of hair. “And I will be there to help comfort them when they start to ache.”

“I know you will.” Sasha turned toward Azu now and hugged her back. “I think that with you here and with things finally quieting down a bit, I can finally start to heal.”

#rusty quill gaming #rqg #sashaweek2021 #Sasha Racket #rqg Azu #aphroguedite #thank you for putting together this event!!!#it was so fun #love my stabby daughter #rqg fic #my fic

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bcdaily · 5 years

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Up on the Rooftop (Lily/James, Drabble)

A/N: Did someone ask for a pure fluff drabble to close out the decade? No? Oh well, here it is anyway. Thanks for another decade of amazingness, friends. <3

A03 ~ FFnet

“How did I let you talk me into this?”

From behind her, Lily feels her boyfriend’s chest rumble in quiet laughter, the vibrations radiating through numerous parts of her—enveloped as they are, with her neatly tucked between the vee of his spread knees, her back curled tightly against his chest, arms casually intertwined, his chin resting idly atop her head.

It’d be decidedly cosy—delightfully so, even—if they weren’t at that very moment cuddled up on an ancient castle’s decidedly questionable roof, with the frigid late December air battling their hastily cast Warming Charms, about to ring in the year 1978 with a dash of danger and slate roof debris chaffing their thickly-layered arses.

“Where’s your sense of adventure?” James asks.

“Inside,” Lily replies. “Where it’s safe and warm.”

“Then that’s your first resolution for the new year: an embracing of escapade.”

Lily’s head tilts back. She eyes him with dry pointedness. “Still dating you, aren’t I?”

Dark eyebrows disappear into his truly ugly brown knitted hat. His mum had given it to him for Christmas. Lily is rather certain there are holes in it. It’s utterly impractical.

She’d got one, too. It’s purple and deformed and her new favourite thing.

“Are you calling me an escapade, Lily Evans?” he demands.

“Among many other things, James Potter.” She reaches up and pulls the hat down over his eyes. The strained fabric pokes out where his specs indent and she laughs. Successfully blinding him, she then tugs his neck down until their lips meet.

Maybe—maybe—it’s not so cold up here.

She lets out a long sigh and snuggles deeper into James’s embrace. He pushes the hat brim back over his eyes and then drops his head into the crook of her neck, where he burrows until he somehow finds skin.

With the hot press of his mouth on her, Lily arches and sighs again.

“I’m going to miss 1977,” she comments idly. “It was kind to me.”

“1978 will be better.”

“Know that for certain, do you?”

“Definitively.” His teeth scrape against her skin, then he soothes it with his lips. “Already resolved to embrace more escapade, haven’t you? Improvement is nigh.”

“You resolved that I would embrace more escapade,” Lily laughs, finding his gloved hand on her stomach, covering it with hers. “I’ve resolved to eat more greens. And quit swearing so much.”

“Fucking hell.”

“And—” She leans slightly out of his embrace, which he protests vehemently with garbled noises, and reclaims the open bottle of champagne they’d left sitting beside them. Lucky it hadn’t toppled over at some point, drenching an unsuspecting passerby below. She settles back against him with the bottle cradled in her arms. She takes a long swig, nose crinkling at the bubbles. “And drink less, too.”

She offers the bottle up to James, who makes a scoffing sound.

“Straight from the bottle,” he sneers. “Got your germs all over it now.”

“Yes,” Lily says sympathetically. “I know how much you hate my germs.”

“Despise them.” James takes the bottle from her, placing it back on its spot beside them, so he can get to her mouth. “Disgusting.”

Up on an unsafe rooftop, Lily feels quite safe in silly, happy, cosy love.

James starts unzipping her coat and she thwacks his fingers with a laugh and another kiss, contrarily grabbing the tab and sweeping it all the way up until her chin and part of her mouth are buried behind the closed fly.

“What are yours?” she asks, voice muffled against the heavy cloth.

James fights her idly for possession of the zipper. “What are my what?”

“Resolutions.”

“End zipper production.”

“Logical.”

“And—” He pulls a sneaky maneuver, fingers somehow dodging up and then down again, ignoring her squawk of indignation as he successfully gains control of the zipper tab. He zips the coat all the way down…then zips it straight back up. And grins. “Be more elegant in my many victories.”

She flicks his nose. “Good one.”

“Also.” His arms shift, closing around her. His lips drift to her ear, warm breath playing there. She’s so distracted by the toasty feel of it, she almost misses his whispered, “Marry you.”

Heart immediately jumping in her chest, Lily lets out an inelegant snort. His breath—surely, it’s his breath—sends shivers down her spine.

“Bold goal.” She turns her head to look up at him, the brisk wind reddening her cheeks. Surely, just the wind. “Perhaps—and this is just me absently ruminating, mind—perhaps one should be dating longer than five months before making such a decision?”

“Fair point,” James concedes, his face noticeably stolid in this joke—surely, a joke. “Except, of course, that I didn’t make this decision five months ago. Ages before that, I’ll have you know.”

“Ages, you say?” For the first time, Lily notices that his fingers have settled back over her stomach. Settled…and have a slight tremor to them. Her heart begins to pound harder. “Love at first sight, was it?”

“Love at first—are you kidding?” He pulls a face. “Hate at first sight. You were a terrible eleven-year-old.”

“I do recall something about a terrible eleven-year-old,” Lily muses. She covers his hand—surely, the cold. It is surely the cold that sees them shaking—with hers. “Didn’t I try to plow your trousers with pumpkin pie first year?”

James sniffs. “Yes, you did.”

“And you deserved it wholeheartedly, as I also recall.”

“Conjecture. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“If we got married, we could never keep pumpkin pie in the house.”

James buries his face in her hair. “Never much liked it, anyway.”

“James?”

“Hm?”

“You’re…you’re kidding, right? About…”

“I’m not about to ask this very second, if that’s what you mean.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Have the whole year to get to it. That’s the point. The resolution is for the year.”

“James.”

“Except it won’t happen at Christmas. Everyone always does it at Christmas. That’s a cliché.”

“James?”

“Not until after graduation, either. I’m not going to have you walking around with a big, hulking thing on your finger, trying to take exams. You’ll get carpal tunnel.”

“I don’t want something big and hulking.”

“Noted.”

They’re quiet on the rooftop. Quiet, but for the whistling of the wind, and the far-off splashes of the squid in the lake, and Lily’s heart, which is surely beating so loud the entirety of Scotland can hear it.

She’s not cold anymore. Not even a bit.

Her lips press together. They press together so hard, it’s nearly painful. There’s a biting sting at her eyes, sharp as the wind goes, and she takes in a deep breath, holding it in.

“Well.” His voice is short. Tight. He leans his cheek against her hair. “It’s just a resolution, anyway. People break those all the time.”

“Don’t,” Lily whispers. Her lips feel numb. “Don’t break this one.”

Behind her, Lily feels the tension in his body freeze for a long moment—lengthy, lingering, hard as slate, and still as the silent evening, as this burgeoning moment on the cusp of a new year, on the brink of a rooftop, on the possibility of…then he exhales.

“Okay.” His head drops back down into the crook of her neck. On her stomach, his fingers flutter.

“James.” She twists around in his vise-like grip. “I love you. You know that, right?”

“You’ve mentioned it a time or two.” His voice is muffled against her skin. Then his head lifts. His brown eyes are bright in the moonlight. “I just wanted to make sure you knew…that I…that this—”

“I know.” She brushes at the tufts of his dark hair poking out from beneath the knitted hat. There’s something bubbling in her stomach. It’s not champagne. “And you’re right—Christmas is a cliché. Don’t do it at Christmas.”

The corners of his mouth tip, one side higher than the other. “That’s all I’m saying.”

“You should—or, you know what? Maybe I will.”

“Sorry?”

“I’m supposed to be embracing escapades, after all. Stealing a proposal? Definite escapade.”

“You can’t steal my proposal.”

“Can’t I?”

“No! That’s completely—”

They are still arguing as the clock strikes midnight.

#jily #jily*#james potter #lily evans #bcdaily #my writing #drabble #nye

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ripleyfm · 4 years

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･ﾟ☀ good morning to everyone except those who hate on legend of korra ! skskskks i’m teddy , i’m a lil ole baby swinging back into the rpc heart emojis a - blazing ! this is my lil sunflower chaos seeker known as ripley , a newer muse for me but i’m really excited to flesh her out here with some extra spooky elements . i have a god awful sense of humor and too much enthusiasm for angst so tbh ? come get y’all PLOTTIN JUICE to distract me from thirsting over avatar kyoshi ! disc / ord is @𝐤𝐲𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫 !#6439 since i’ll be mobile for the afternoon !

* [ bruna marquezine + cis female + she / her ] —— have you met tallulah ripley ? they are a twenty-two year old senior currently studying biology & music theory. they live on decker house, and word around campus is that this leo is vibrant + gregarious, as well as hedonistic + philophobic. i wonder if they’ll make it out alive. trailing sand in on the hardwood with bare feet , running late to meetings ( and asking forgiveness with a mere flash of a grin ) , tucking a greta van fleet album among the family collection of concierto classics .

EDIT : wanted and current connections can be found here !

youngest of four , born into an old money surname , her mother , an international student from sao paolo , brazil , and american father meet as competing pianists at holloway , falling in love , marrying , and beginning the next generation of the ripley virtuosos soon after graduation . her childhood is privileged and uneventful , strict and stifling as early as she can remember , tallulah causing trouble enough as if to make up for her perfectly behaved siblings .

her father becomes one of the most prolific modern composers of his time , and splits his efforts between composition and teaching music theory at julliard as his wife continues performances as a famed pianist . though her siblings branch out into other instruments , tallulah is the only one stubborn enough to weather the callouses on her fingers , figuring if she’s going to be forced to play an instrument of any type , it’ll at least be something she likes . thus , the only stringed instrument in the ripley household becomes hers as she takes on the cello by storm .

practicing cello is perhaps the only thing lu truly commits herself to — charming and sociable as she may be , her selectiveness with her efforts makes her sluggish with schoolwork as if to give her family a hard time . her siblings , all honor scholars and first chairs at their respective instruments , pick on her for her unmotivated wild child ways at the encouragement of her mother . the only person who takes the time to sit with tallulah and keep her on track is her ever - tired ( but endlessly generous ) father .

her world is turned upside down her freshman year when her father’s occasional stumble turns into a more regular struggle to keep his balance , an ultimate diagnosis of a degenerative disease rattling their family as they know it . tallulah , wild and only tamed by the kindness of one man , starts acting out in an effort to ignore the world around her . the rift between herself and her family only multiplies when she discovers her mother having an affair as her father’s health continues to decline .

he passes away on a vacation he and tallulah take to the ripley summer beach house , something they had done to have some quiet time together away from the judgement of her siblings . having to be the one to break the news to the family , she feels herself shut down and lose whatever desire she had left to live the perfect life her mother and siblings tried to force on her .

she starts going almost exclusively by her surname , making it into holloway more as a favor to her family’s generous donations to the music program than on grades . she’s barely hanging on by her involvement in the university’s symphonic orchestra , where she’s a first chair cellist that shows up late to every damn rehearsal and somehow can cold sightread well enough to piss everyone off ksksksk .

given this , she’s only minoring in music theory to stay in the orchestra , and partially to feel close to her dad . though her dream is to write music scores for films , she’s majoring in biology to have a respectable backup plan . if she can’t do music forever , she’ll disappear onto a beach somewhere in costa rica and be a marine biologist and never be heard from again lmao

PERSONALITY : ripley is happiest shotgunning a white claw before piling into the squad car and calling aux immediately ! loves her friends and sees her circle as found family that she would do anything for .

she’s laid back and observant , one of the quieter in the group as she tries to suss you out but is the first to approach a newbie and act as if you’ve been friends for ages . she makes an active effort to not judge others on the basis of first impressions and tends to be rather open minded when meeting others , which makes her a sort of universal friend - to - all ; given this , when wronged , she’s a stubborn little shit and though she wont let them live rent free in that headspace , she’ll go full send to making sure they’re aware they don’t exist to her !

she hates petty drama and tends to skirt most responsibility by sweet - talking her way out of things , giving the impression that she can be lazy or unmotivated . this is true to some extent , such as with her grades or her timeliness , but those who strike the right balance will see a side of ripley that is laser focused , whether its drunken ramblings about the brilliance of the chord progressions on fleetwood mac’s rumors or an astute observation about the emotion behind a certain cello movement . though she prefers to skip the hard thinking and just enjoy the moment , ripley’s admittedly a clever girl , simply needing the right push to unlock her truest potential .

she’s incredibly relaxed ( sometimes a bit too much for the preference of some ) and tends to try and avoid over - complicating issues in order to not have to face them . especially considering the infidelity of her mother , ripley is a staunch believer that relationships are a waste of time and is the annoying bitch who argues that being in love is a scam made up by the simps to feel valid !

acts as if she isn’t FULL of feelings and emotions 24/7 n listens to emo 70’s power ballads when the person she likes doesnt confess their love for her under the moonlight like they were supposed to in her fantasy ……. smh . she’s too busy trying to be ~cool and effortless~ that she sometimes sabotages the things that would bring her the most happiness , then blaming herself in a vicious cycle that just leaves her trying to distract herself w crazy antics to avoid focusing on her feelings .

RANDOM BLURBS : hates men n regrets all attraction to them . thinks all women r too good for her . convinced she will be a useless bisexual forced 2 be forever alone

plays guitar as a mental break from cello and loves it . i’m still deciding a vc for her

knows the beaches in maine are cold af but wants to go every weekend anyways

drives the most impractical soft shell jeep which sucks in the east coast wind and snow and yet it is somehow exactly an embodiment of Her Brand tm

like 5′9 tall and hates wearing real people shoes she said berks or nOTHIN

wishes she could go vegan but is so bad at keeping track of her meals she’d forget instantly and down a 20 pack of chicken nugget

too mellow & apathetic to be a chaotic neutral but too adventurous to be a true neutral so she lives somewhere in that lawless grey space skskskks

acts REAL california for someone who grew up exclusively on the east coast .... hm ..... 🤔

grew up disconnected from brazilian culture due to her mom's whitewashing and she resents it greatly . can understand scattered portuguese but took spanish in high school so that's as close to the language as she'll get . wants to take lessons online tho !

inspos r lila from umbrella academy , wynonna earp , beverly marsh from it , michelle manlon from derry girls , korra from lok , adora from she ra and the pop , and that ugly yellow overtone used in outer banks 💖 skskskks

#holloway.intro

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sifeng · 4 years

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China’s Mary Sue

Growing up in America, I always saw Mary Sues as these perfect, destined type of heroine. So you can imagine my surprise when I went on Chinese social media and found people calling Jiang Xiaoguo, a character from Twenty Your Life On, who is plain in looks, of average talent and who comes from a less than stellar background, a Mary Sue. So, I did some digging and found that apparently in China, besides also meaning perfect angels, Mary Sue can also describe plain, simple girls who are ordinary in every aspect. Nothing sounds wrong with that right? Except, these simple Mary Sues attract the attention of a male lead that is far from ordinary in any aspect (think Meteor Garden or Scarlet Heart). A rant below:

(Remember when I said Yingluo is definitely not a Mary Sue? Well this new type of Mary Sue kind of includes her too! It just goes to show how Chinese netizens are willing to literally hate on any kind of female lead! No matter how different from the norm + unproblematic they are!)

This is an interesting character. There’s nothing wrong with the basic characteristics, as the matter of fact, their basic storyline (minus the romance) makes complete sense. It’s just your average person growing up to become a successful adult. I really don’t see anything wrong with that. I also don’t see anything wrong with their character - after all, isn’t 80% of the world the exact same? The only thing that is annoying with this character is the fact that they attract guys that are far beyond their league. Why? Most people don’t like this because it’s unrealistic, which is definitely true and you can dislike it for that reason, but, I have to ask who is watching a drama to see a realistic relationship? Cdramas (especially romantic ones) thrive off of clichés, and yet those exact people who enjoy them are also the ones who yell “ew a Mary Sue!”

In America (or the Western World), we dislike Mary Sues because they are annoying, they (when they appear in young adult fiction stories) often act as bad role models for the young people reading them, they can be subconsciously sexist as people who read those stories develop the idea that the “other girls” are so boring or silly or evil and I must be like this bad-ass lady who tears down everyone else. But we do people dislike Mary Sues in China? Because her love stories are unrealistic, because exceptional people like an unexceptional girl. So there’s nothing wrong with her, there is just a lot of hate towards her romance storyline.

A poster for Twenty Your Life On: (from left to right) Duan Jiabao (段家宝), Jiang Xiaoguo (姜小果), Liang Shuang (梁爽), Luo Yan (罗艳)

So yes, I suppose Jiang Xiaoguo is a Mary Sue (she is simple, and two rather exceptional guys like her), but I still don’t really understand whats wrong with this type of Mary Sue. Besides being an overly common trait, I really can’t find anything innately wrong with this setup besides the fact that it will anger thousands of Chinese netizens who feel jealous that though they might be more talented, or better looking, or more pleasant than these Mary Sues, they don’t get the handsome guys like she does. Yes, I suppose Jiang Xiaoguo’s actions and their consequences are a little unrealistic, but she really will put in a lot of effort to get jobs or do good in her job. Perhaps the actions themselves might be impractical but at least the attitude she holds towards life is respectable and young people ought to learn to be courageous and hard working like her. She has more than just “everyone loves her” as a personality trait!

Pictures from Twenty Your Life On: (from top to bottom), Guan Xiaotong (关晓彤) as Liang Shuang (梁爽), Bu Guanjin (卜冠今) as Jiang Xiaoguo (姜小果), Li Gengxi (李庚希) as Luo Yan (罗艳), Dong Siyi (董思怡) as Duan Jiabao (段家宝)

Everyone seems to hate Jiang Xiaoguo because two guys like her, but they love Liang Shuang (also from Twenty Your Life On)! Liang Shuang is another one of the main characters, and she’s actually a really cool character. She’s super confident (to a kind of amazing level really), and really selfish. I think it’s really interesting that a female lead has this type of personality, and I actually quite like her, but that doesn’t make her a better person than Jiang Xiaoguo. Liang Shuang has some really big problems (not to say Xiaoguo doesn’t - because she does - but they aren’t really huge problems that could hurt the people around her). When she and Luo Yan (another main character) are on the bus together, Luo Yan is harassed, and Liang Shuang steps in and records the entire thing on her phone (because she had been taking selfies before). She then posts the video on social media because she wants to raise awareness, however, in the video Luo Yan pushes her. It is revealed that Luo Yan only pushed her because the creepy guy tried to attack Liang Shuang, but of course that’s not in the video. So the other two friends (Xiaoguo and Duan Jiabao) try to convince Liang Shuang to take the video offline because Luo Yan is getting majorly cyberbullies for something that is definitely not her fault. Liang Shuang refuses because her video has gone viral and she’s getting a lot of followers. Also, once when faced with a product she was offered to advertise, but that could be harmful to the skin, she tricked other girls in the dormitory to use it and watched the results. And why? Because she’s way too pretty to possibly get harmed by this mask, but everyone else can suffer because they're ugly ducklings in comparison. So people like this character because she’s different, and they are totally willing to forgive her for all of these (rather cruel) actions. But when faced with Jiang Xiaoguo, a Mary Sue, they will hate on her for breathing. She can help Liang Shuang deal with a cheating boyfriend, and support her friends when they are down, and yet - she’s the annoying one?

Besides, I feel like, if these male leads have a reason to like her (a valid reason not some stupid one like - oh she’s not like the other girls). Then I don’t have a problem at all! I just want well-written romance storylines that aren’t toxic, I really don’t require this completely new and innovative relationship. Besides, realistic relationships are way too boring to be shown on television, for example, in Twenty Your Life On, Luo Yan’s main pairing is her friend who studies for graduate school with her. He is really nice, but just kind of boring. I don’t really feel interested in watching their romance develop because 1. there isn’t that much chemistry and 2. it’s just so boring. (Nothing against either or them, since I love Teresa Li and I quite liked the guy in My Huckleberry Friends). I am even more annoyed that people are really hating on the actress because Jiang Xiaoguo takes up screen time. I tried to watch an iQiyi sneak peek and literally half (if not three-fourths) of the comments were just hating on her and her actress. It’s absolutely disgusting, especially given that this show has just started and has only gone one-fourth of the way through.

This was just a rant about how annoying Chinese netizens can be towards female characters, even when it’s unwarranted. If they were complaining about how she has too much screen time, perhaps I could agree, but they are just insulting her solely because two talented and handsome guys like her. That is just so wrong on so many levels. (Now this is solely a theory and it’s most likely wrong but... could it be that people are actually jealous? I see so many comments literally hating on Xiaoguo’s appearance, her actress’s voice, even her actress’s acting ability - which is actually really good - and yet no one hates on anyone else in this show. I really don’t understand. I really like her character actually, especially in the first episode).

I’m actually kind of sad. This show is so good, it deals with some very interesting topics and features conversations that are quite meaningful. And yet, all the fans care about are who gets the most screen time or oh my god this girl is so annoying because guys like her. They're missing the main point!

#Cdrama #cdrama analysis #oh my god if I see another 玛丽苏 in the comments for this drama I will punch someone #if someone has an opposing opinion or an explanation please tell me because I want to learn more #twenty your life on #it's such a good drama #but the fans make me want to die

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thepinkseat-askthemoonbunny · 4 years

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Alright everybody, meet my baby girl Elisabetta Hellsing-Maxwell...or Lisa for short. She’s supposed to be around 12 in this pic and yes, her primary weapon is a spiked Hello Kitty baseball bat. (I remembered that one post with the hello kitty bat and I couldn’t resist)

Full Name: Elisabetta Dipali Alessandra Hellsing-Maxwell (Dipali from her maternal grandmother, Alessandra after Anderson.

Nickname: Lisa

Age: 12 (in the pic)

Hair color: Blonde

Eye color: Violet

Skin color: Brown

Personality: Lisa’s actually a really sweet and polite girl and always curious...she’s always getting into new things, usually things she’s not supposed to be getting into (much to her parents’ worry). She tends to be quiet and keep to herself a lot, most take this as a sign of antisocialist behavior but no, she’s just plotting. She’s a planner, she’ll think of three and five plans for things even if they’re impractical in the long run. She has a problem with keeping emotions bottled in until they just erupt, which can get quite ugly and has difficulty asking for help insisting she can handle it herself. Oftentimes she feels torn between her parents...this poor child just needs therapy, somebody please help her.

Bio: So, Lisa’s story...she’s not really supposed to be here, k? Details are covered in the fic (there are only four chapters up so far) but I’ll summarize. Basically Integra and Maxwell got drunk one night and hooked up in a bar. It was supposed to be some one time thing never to be mentioned again, because they LOATHE each other but the sex was bomb as hell so it just kept happening behind their organizations’ backs.

Until one day Integra starts to feel like shit and the doctor is all like “congrats, you’re pregnant” and of course our vampire slaying queen of the universe was like “SHIIIIIITTT! This can’t be happening right now!” but inside her head cuz she doesn’t scream in public. Maxwell finds out (she doesn’t tell him, he just finds out) and he starts freaking out like oh my god oh my god, what do I do, but then his Catholic sensibilities kick in and he goes over to the mansion like “we gotta get married, like right now.” At first Integra’s like “no sodding way” and plans to get an abortion. There is no way that they’re in any position to be parents right now, this is a terrible idea...literally the worst thing that could happen at the worst time, and what would their organizations say?

But she ultimately changed her mind after seeing how screwed both their reputations would be if this ever got out. Plus in his words “she needs an heir and she’s not getting any younger.” So they try to remain civil for the sake of the children but still can’t stand each other (but they keep having hatesex tho cuz I’m a sadist) and eventually Lisa and her twin brother are born. She’s named after both the Queen of England and the Catholic Saint Elizabeth of Hungary (but the Italian version). Since her parents hardly ever see each other, Lisa spends six months in England and six in Italy usually. Growing up, she and her brother were often kept as innocent from the affairs of Hellsing as their mother could possibly manage it, as she wanted them to have a proper childhood. Lisa often spent her time pursuing her passion, music...writing songs or playing her guitar, when school and parents don’t particularly get in the way. Ultimately, the child wanted control over her own soul and grows weary of her parents’ spiritual conflicts over them.

Relationships:

Integra Hellsing: Lisa thinks her mom’s the greatest thing since sliced bread, and she’s not wrong really. They’re very close and she tries to emulate her a lot, Integra at first didn’t think she’d be a very good parent but she turned out to be a pretty great mom and trains Lisa up to be the boss ass bitch she will one day become while running Hellsing..that is, until EJ became the new heir because Lisa’s choice of religion disqualified her. She makes sure that her kids know they can be anything she wants to be. But she also shelters her and keeps a lot of things from her because Integra wants her daughter to have what she never did, a childhood because she was forced to grow up way too fast. And mama bear WILL destroy you if you fuck up. She’s been through some shit, Lisa is her offspring, Integra is hella protective. Safest child in Britain.

Enrico Maxwell: Lisa loves her dad to bits but is kinda terrified of him because well..:he’s a total raging nutjob.. He takes an active role in their upbringing because he was a bastard, he went through hell because of it and by Jove, his kids were NOT gonna go through that shit. Maxwell tries his best, he really does but he hasn’t lost any of that diehard Catholicism since becoming a dad and he often tries to drill that into Lisa. “But Dad, why can’t I have Protestant friends?” He’s probably one of those strict religious dads who won’t let you wear skirts above knee length and who thinks rap and Instagram are “tools of Satan.” He thinks he’s protecting the kids but he’s kinda fucking them up man. But at the end of the day, he does love her with all of the shriveled remains of his black, cold heart. One bonding ritual they have is him doing her hair, Lisa has his bushier hair. Integra can throw on a suit and be ready and can’t really be bothered with it so either Maxwell or Walter end up doing it. Their relationship has simultaneously become stronger, as Lisa has become a practicing Catholic, and a bit shaky as she can tell that there’s a bit of a rift between her dad and her twin.

Enrico Hellsing-Maxwell: Lisa’s younger twin brother by six minutes, and her ride or die. She’s often protective of him as the “big sister” and can go full mama bear when it comes to him, the two of them are like two halves of a whole basically. They’re inseparable, and often get into trouble together...they’ll form a wall so you can’t get information out of either of them, Rico is one of the few people she loosens up around and he knows things about her that a lot of people don’t, even their parents.

Alucard: Alucard is like half-nanny, half-attack dog. He did NOT like the kid at first because she was a reminder that that Italian slimeball “defiled” his master, but over the years she’s kinda grown on him. They have somewhere between a Seras and Integra relationship, he knows she’ll be his master one day but she’s also still small enough that he can kinda intimidate and flex on her. But he’s hella protective of her, he wouldn’t let anything happen. Lisa refers to him as “her scary vampire brother” and when she was little, she used to mispronounce his name as Ally-card so she still calls him that sometimes (which he hates)

Anderson: He’s basically her surrogate grandparent and she calls him Granddad. He may be a scary, Catholic Paladin but he loves the kiddos...and Lisa is kind of special to him. Maxwell is his son, and because of the way he turned out, Alexander feels like he failed. With Lisa, it’s almost a reminder of what her dad could’ve been, so it’s almost like a do-over he’s determined not to waste with her. He and Integra begrudgingly tolerate each other for her sake.

Seras: Lisa’s big sister. While Alucard is the older sibling that will encourage you to get into all sorts of holy hell, Seras will reign her back a little.

Heinkel and Yumie: Maxwell often makes them babysit Lisa while he’s busy, and they get SO ANNOYED by it. But with him, not with her. Heinkel is that “cool auntie” who will buy her beer and teach you her to shoot guns, Yumie is the kinda neurotic aunt who wants to be by the rules only because she’s terrified of what Maxwell will do if they cross a line.

Walter: Her “other granddad”, she often tells him things that she doesn’t tell anybody else because he’s literally one of the few religiously neutral people in her life.

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eyesofthesunflower · 4 years

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hi!! can i ask why you didn't like ww 84? this isnt trying to be an attack or anything!! i just also didn't like it all that much and i wanna see if im just looking too deep into it and if anyone shares my reasons or not ;; hope you have a nice day!!

So like,,, I do have a lot a lot a LOT of thoughts on this movie. Honestly thank you for asking bc like I do WANT to go into it. You can totally drop into my messages if you want to keep talking about it! I would love to hear your thoughts too.

I harbor no ill will to anyone who enjoyed this movie. I just strongly dislike it.

Ultimate TLDR: I get what they were trying to do, they didn’t do it well.

Broad brushstrokes:

- So like number 1 issue is the racism. Plenty of people are going to go into that I’m sure but like, holy fuck. The treatment of people in the Middle East (with the missile scene especially). The use of black people as props for a moral center. Having your villain be a skeevy (and sexy) latino conman (I love Pedro Pascal as an actor but like they gave him a VERY stereotypical backstory and behavior for a latino character, and while it was clear his character was trying to pass as white, they still made him use an accent) while having no people of color as a positive leading role. I get that he was supposed to be a Trump allegory turned on its head by him being Latino but it still ended up being a downward punch. I can’t super speak to this as a white person but it definitely rubbed me the wrong way.

- Another major issue I have is Kristin Wigg’s character as a stereotypical ugly duckling narrative. Society has outgrown “glasses curly hair and modest clothes make you ugly” trope. Could have been resolved by Diana taking her under her wing at the end and teaching her real confidence or even a climactic moment in the final fight where she realizes she was always worth it. I did appreciate though that “woman gets called pretty for first time and attaches her worth to it and that’s bad” narrative bc relatable (as someone who was maliciously bullied for their looks) but this movie also frames harassment as positive attention (mechanism affirming she is hot now).

- Diana has no narrative arc. Her having to sacrifice her happiness over and over (which I think Steve lowkey rightly called her out for being so fixated) isn’t really resolved or touched on after it’s brought up. It’s also clear that she already valued truth before the story, so she doesn’t change there. Also it’s implied she hasn’t grown as a person in 60 years after Steve’s death, and even if she hasn’t they don’t do a very good job showing much grief.

- Diana grieves a man she knew for a few days to a monthish perhaps (not sure if travel is accounted for much in the first movie) with no consideration for her aunt who she also lost the day she met him.

- You never get to see Diana be a capable researcher beyond using her knowledge of Latin which is just her native language.

- Not to mention people handle artifacts with their bare hands in this movie.

- The exposition all feels convenient because it always comes right before it’s needed and you never see any work go into it. The whole narrative structure is bad and I could tell you exactly what I would have done different (shown Diana on an archaeological dig, or having some legitimate struggles in her life beyond “I’m choosing to isolate myself over a single man”)

- I’m happy to see a movie with color in it but it’s clear with some scenes they were trying and failing to show off (I hate the fireworks scene so much). Just so much bad editing.

- They set up a lot in this movie and just never actually truly brought it back around. Especially with the scene in Themyscera which was badass but POINTLESS. Like I get what they were trying to go for with the truth mattering but like, it wasn’t executed well. Also why set up that stuff with “the language of the gods I wonder who made this” and not GO INTO THAT I was excited for that potential plot line. The armor even was pointless.

- No sisterhood with the Amazons in a narrative of growing beyond self isolation. First movie was about independence so it makes sense they weren’t there. But Diana still ends up completely alone. The Amazons would have been great to help face this or literally any more women being involved in the story. The beginning doesn’t show her even being bonded with them then. They’re like almost pointless for the influence they have on her backstory.

- Seventy waves of feminism were trying to fight each other and none of them emerged. A movie with a female lead doesn’t have to be feminist but it’s clear they were trying to be, so like, it sucked that they didn’t execute a clear message at all.

- The fight scenes were all bad. I didn’t enjoy a single one. One was just fucking, cirque du soleil (sp?). Diana’s fighting style was also impractical and I get that even though she is Very Magic she trained with women who were magic but not As magic as her. There was this one sexy kick that just had no leverage. It made me cringe.

- Male gaze. Male gaze on Diana the whole time. Villain’s makeup can run but Diana will have perfect wings while she is crying.

- The MacGuffin was an inifinity stone. There I said it. Boo.

- Whole narrative structure bad. Just poorly organized. Lack of resolution for anything. There were a bunch stories involved and none received focus or resolve or expansion.

Those are the BROADEST brushstrokes. Thank you for asking :)

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anniebibananie · 5 years

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au where jaime is a photographer who wants brienne to model for him

tbh this got sort of wild. thank you for sending this in who KNEW this idea was sitting inside me.

There are, frankly, quite a few things Brienne finds offensive about Jaime Lannister. The list has been forming the last three days as he stalls her construction site for a photo shoot she wasn’t given an ounce of say in. The list itself has grown long and comprehensive.

One of the first reasons seems to be that the photo shoot concept doesn’t even make sense as far as she’s concerned. They’re all dressed in practically Cinderella-esque ball gowns and regal suits as they… mess up her construction site. It’s truthfully infuriating.

She just wants to get the building built, as she always does, and move onto the next project. Jaime Lannister is making that difficult as his demands grow larger (No, I know the crane is for professional use only, but I only want to borrow it for a minute), his photo shoot length keeps expanding, and the final thing. The real kicker.

“Tarth!” he calls as she walks by, plans under her arm as she’s trying to tell Podrick how he’s meant to divvy up the foundation tasks for the day. “You have to let me photograph you.”

Brienne thinks maybe for someone else this whole thing would be flattering, but she knows who she is, okay? She’s good at her job, hell she’s great at her job. Pretty much she’s been on a construction site her entire life, and by the time she’d hit 13 her father figured if she was gonna be around she might as well help. She knows the ins and outs, and she takes pride in her work.

She’s smart, funny if you appreciate a dry sort of candor that can be hard to understand, a good friend and loyal as all hell, but she isn’t pretty. She isn’t someone you ask to take a photo of for your weird, nonsensical photo shoot.

All she wants to do is tell him to fuck off, please and move right on, but she thinks Catelyn might have a problem with that. Brienne loves the matriarch of Stark Construction, Inc. so she doesn’t exactly want to upset her. Even if it means dealing with this highly inconvenient situation.

“No, thank you!” she calls back, a fake cheer evident in her voice. Another thing she’s not that good at? Covering up her feelings. She’s pretty much a completely open book, unfortunately. “Hurry up and get off my construction site.”

So, maybe she hasn’t really mastered any sense of being nice in dealing with this ridiculous joke of an experiment. Brienne doesn’t care if having a famous photographer use their construction company as a backdrop will get them more press. She’s not entirely convinced it’s actually going to help them land more big name clients.

“You will not elude me, Tarth.” He smiles at her in that wicked way that is definitely on her list of things she finds offensive about Jaime. It’s like he smiles as if he knows it wins people over, as if he thinks it’s some sort of magic spell to getting what he wants.

Maybe it works on other people, she isn’t sure, but she knows it doesn’t work on her.

When Brienne walks into her construction site the fourth day to see Jaime Lannister sitting in the chair behind her makeshift desk, she’s pretty sure she’s never been closer to murder than this moment.

“You were supposed to be gone,” she says, dropping her bag on the desk anyways.

If his legs, which are up on her desk may she add, just so happen to get hit with her work boots than that’s not her fault.

“You were supposed to model for me,” he replies. His eyes take their time looking over her, which she doesn’t understand because she’s in muddied jeans and a flannel, hair still wet from her morning shower.

“I get the joke, Jaime, but it’s gone on a bit long, don’t you think?” she falls into the only open chair besides her own because it’s way too early in the morning to be dealing with this without a cup of coffee, and she’s tired.

“You do know my first name.” He perks up at that, face looking genuinely happy in a way that isn’t manufactured. “I don’t get why you think there’s any joke about it. I’m a deadly serious man.”

“Yeah, I get that impression of you.” She rolls her eyes as her fingers twiddle in her lap. Really, she’s not sure why his presence is setting her on edge, but she can’t help but feel a little put off. “I’ve seen your models. I’m not a model.”

“Why?” he asks, and the only thing she finds tied to the word is curiosity.

“Lannister…” she trails over the word, elongating it so it’s apparent she switched back to his last name. Making clear she’s saying what’s to come next with complete factual honesty. “I’m not beautiful.”

He scoffs. “Since when has art had anything to do with being beautiful. Here’s the deal,” he says, leaning forward and capturing her eyes with his own.

Really, captured. She feels like she can’t look away. It’s intense and sort of terrifying. In this moment, she sort of does feel like art the way he’s looking at her.

“You take a single photograph for me, and I’ll disappear off your construction site today.”

“Deal.” She reaches across, not caring that her hands are forever scattered with dirt underneath the fingernails or aren’t painted and pretty compared to his clearly manicured ones. “To get you out of my life, I’d do just about anything.”

“Oh.” He smirks. “Who said anything about out of your life, Tarth. I just said off the construction site. I never make promises I can’t keep.”

She grits her teeth, hands clasped at her side, and keeps the frustration inside. She hates being teased, hates being treated like this by men like Jaime Lannister. He thinks he’s playing some new sort of joke she hasn’t heard before?

He’ll leave, she reminds herself. It calms her at least a little. “Let’s get this over with.”

He puts her in a ruffled skirt and a sleeveless flannel tucked into it, which seems not only ugly but also incredibly impractical. He allows her to stay in her work boots, which are worn and dirty and not at all classified as anything but practical.

Luckily, he agrees to let them do it somewhere her employees can’t see them (she’s pretty sure she’d never hear the end of it). Which leaves them in a back, unfinished room with minimal lighting. Jaime swears he can make it work (I can make anything work, darling).

She feels big and awkward. Usually, on the site, she feels like she was made for it all. It’s sort of her comfortable place, really.

His eyes, even behind a camera lens, make her feel bare.

“Just… take the picture already, won’t you?” She knows she sounds sort of frantic, which isn’t exactly a look she’s comfortable with in front of him, but she hates this.

“I only get one. I’m not going to waste it,” he replies, not bothering to pull away from the camera. With a huff, he pulls it back and looks over her. “Here. Sit.”

He pulls a flipped over bin near her and taps it, watching her with a raised brow until she follows the instruction and finally sits. It’s smaller than a normal chair, and she feels as if her legs are too long for the whole space. They stretch forward, the pale skin of her calves peaking out below the skirt.

“Can I adjust you, just a little?” he asks.

She nods.

His hands are gentle as he moves her, completely in his element. He adjusts one leg to rest up on a pile of wood, a hand to hold onto the bin behind her. He’s stretching her out, in a way, giving her the space to exist in the way she’s meant to.

“How’d you end up here?” he asks as he adjusts something on the camera.

She shrugs. “My dad used to be the site manager, and with no one to look after me when he was here I was just… always here, too. Got used to it, sort of like my family.”

Living construction site to construction site had certainly never done anything good for her reputation, and maybe if she had sought out popularity she would have separated herself from it more. But on the flip side she had always had a place to go where she was known, where she was given permission to be herself.

How many people had that? A place they knew their body and personality and strengths could be accepted, and so in turn she had just been left feeling bad for everyone else. Popularity be damned.

It doesn’t mean, though, that she isn’t still susceptible to the cruelty of others. She’s known Jaime Lannisters her whole life

Click.

She looks up, eyes wide and lips open in a small ‘o’. “You took it?”

He’s looking at the shot he captured, and his face is open and happy. There’s not a trace of humor there, and she stands up to go over and see.

There isn’t much light in the room, but the way Jaime had positioned her it seems almost as if it’s all on her. Her body is long and stretched, creating an arched line, and it’s like her body is somehow pulling the light in. Her face, caught in the moments after her admission, looks oddly peaceful.

“See,” he says, turning his stupid golden boy face toward her. “Art.”

She doesn’t know how to argue with that, so she doesn’t.

“Tarth!”

“I thought you were leaving,” she calls back. She’s three floors up, but there isn’t actually any wall up yet between the foundation beams so she can see him on the ground from here.

She moves toward the edge and stares him down.

“I am, see.” He points toward his car, which is shiny and new and somehow had managed to sit in this lot for three days without a single drop of dirt on it. “I want another shot.”

“I gave you one. One was the deal.”

He tilts his head to the side, and she can see his smirk form in its familiar place.

“Another shot with you. I’ve never had a muse before, it’s exhilarating.” He has a hand on his chest dramatically, somehow making his eyes sparkle, and Brienne hates him. She really truly, does.

Except she sort of doesn’t.

“This is just embarrassing. Stop yelling across my construction site, Jaime.” She scratches at the side of her face, doing her best to ignore the fact that she can hear Podrick and Gendry gossiping behind her. “Come back tomorrow, at the end of the day, and we’ll see what happens.”

“It’s a date,” he yells, already walking away as if he knows the chance might be fleeting.

“It is not a date!”

“A date,” he cheers, blowing the whole site a dramatic kiss as a few of them catcall and yell in excitement.

Brienne can’t help laughing so she lets herself. Even if she knows later this is going to be hell, or Jaime Lannister really is one of the most infuriating people she’s ever met.

It just so also happens… she might sort of like him. Hopefully, the two can cancel out.

#braime #brienne x jaime #jaime x brienne #braime au #braime fanfiction #annie writes #my fanfiction #prompts #braime prompt #this was #very fun #thank you for this #construction site brienne?#my new fave #ofhobbitsandwomen

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cannotgiveafuck · 5 years

Text

Shazam Week Prompt 1

Its Shazam Week and my muses need the boost, so have some daily dabbles (while I get thru BBTWLB)!

Prompt 1: Seasons

----

The seasons were changing.

Chilly winds were coming back to life. Leaves were falling from their trees. Decorations were leaving summer behind. Autumn was upon them. Truths were finally harvested.

Change was happening. It was always inevitable, but Billy had hoped he could stave it off a little longer, that he could keep everything under wraps and under control until he was ready, until it was the right time.

Change doesn't ask for permission, though…

And apparently, neither did infamous thieves.

"This isn't what I had in mind when you kidnapped me off the street, you know," Billy said, exasperated and amused all at once.

"And what did you have in mind, hmm? Bank robbery? Heists? Being held hostage?" The woman asked, her hand casually stayed upon his shoulder, but Billy knew she needn't use force to get him to stay. He wasn't going anywhere else any time soon.

"I mean…" Billy glanced around, eyeing the other mall shoppers as they passed by. "I wasn't expecting this, to be honest."

There was a child running towards a toy store, their exhausted parent dragging behind them. A couple was heatedly discussing something over at the kitchen store. Some pretty teenage girls giggled where they sat at a bench, coffee cups in one hand and shopping bags in the other.

It all seemed very… strangely normal to Billy. Another world he had only really gleaned in passing, somewhere he only stepped into while he was Captain Marvel and meeting civilians. He wasn't supposed to be here as Billy.

He wasn't supposed to have a normal day when everything had been uprooted.

And he definitely wasn't supposed to be here with the Snart siblings.

[[MORE]]

"Well, sorry to disappoint, little scarlet," reappearing from the depths of the sweater section of the clothing store they were currently in, Leonard Snart stopped before them. "We can include you on our next job."

"Please don't."

"Aww, don't be like that," Lisa ruffled his hair and grabbed onto the sweaters draped over Len's arm. She inspected them with a critical eye, though Billy couldn't tell what exactly she was deciding. "You'd make a cute lil distraction."

Billy rolled his eyes. The last thing he needed was to be dragged into a Rogues crime spree. He was already in hot water with the League right now and-

No. Not thinking about that.

"Lenny, these are all dark," Lisa said as she tossed the sweaters back to her brother.

"Yes, they are," he replied in the same monotone way of his, but Billy could hear the snark in it. Especially as he carefully folded the sweaters back into neatness.

"They're boring," she folded her arms across her chest in a huff.

"You mean they're not gold."

Lisa glared at him. "He needs color in his life. Gold included."

That was not true at all. "I don't really need any-"

"You're getting these."

"Yes, you do!"

Well, okay then.

Billy sighed in resignation. He had already tried getting out of this situation before they even entered the building. He explained to them that no, he did not need new clothes, and that yes, he was aware that his current red hoodie had a hole in it, but it was still good and he still had a backup hoodie for when this one fell apart.

It wasn't even that cold yet! He was fine, thanks for asking!

But when did adults ever listen to children? When did Billy ever get a say?

When the Snart siblings spotted him sweeping leaves off the sidewalk for the local stores, his hoodie having an obvious hole on the side - a snag he got when he squeezed through a chain link fence to get away from some ruffians - they would not take no for an answer. In fact, they picked him up and set him on Len's motorcycle and the next thing Billy knew, he was being dragged into the mall.

He had been a bit preoccupied at the time. A lot was on his mind, lately.

"Here, try these on," Len lead Billy toward the fitting rooms. "If you want to pick out a horrendous sweater, that's on you, Lise."

Lisa flipped her curls over her shoulder, throwing the last words in as well, "I have better taste than you, anyway."

Billy could hear the long suffering huff from the man. But he could tell there was no actual heat behind it. It was that sibling banter type of exchange. Something Billy recognized because of the silly arguments he's had with Freddy, almost always about superheroes or where to get the best hotdogs.

"Try these on," Len said as he handed the sweaters to Billy and closed the fitting room door.

Carefully placing the very nice clothing on the cushioned seat in the corner, Billy was momentarily distracted by the mirror that took up two walls of the small room. Blaring lights lined the full length mirror, ensuring nothing would be hidden when someone gazed upon their own reflection.

And nothing was missed.

Shedding his hoodie and shirt, Billy traced the path of his lightning scar that travelled across him. The ugly knotted tissue was centered above his chest, right by his heart. Its branches reached across his chest and arched over his shoulder, and as he turned around he saw them peak to his back. The tissue didn't hurt him. It didn't have much feeling at all, except for when the chilly weather dropped, then it only ached a little bit. But he knew he wouldn't be able to wear certain clothes, as this past summer had been tricky.

Maybe having some extra sweaters would be a good thing.

But he could get a bulk of them from the second hand store. He didn't need fancy new ones personally picked out from Captain Cold.

"C'mon, scarlett," Len called out, like Billy could possibly find a way to sneak around him.

No longer able to hide, Billy stepped out. "No offense, but I feel like this… is a bit much." The sweater was a dark blue turtleneck that fit perfectly, which nearly surprised Billy since he's sure he never told Len what size clothing he wore.

"Nonsense!" Lisa exclaimed as she strode in, arms full of golds, yellows, and black. "We're not even getting started. Also that makes you look like some snobby rich brat. I hate it."

"He looks dignified," Len countered, eyeing her bundle of clothes with suspicion.

"He looks like a wayward Wayne child. Here, try these!" She shooed Billy back inside, pushing the new articles of clothes with him.

At the click of the door shutting, Billy heard the sniping banter start up again. It was comforting, in a way. To hear them casually talk around him without censoring themselves, to feel their hands ruffle his hair like he wasn't made of glass, like he wasn't a burden, like they cared about him.

Was this what having an aunt and uncle was like?

(He missed the League, he missed Arrow and Canary's back and forth, he missed Diana's quiet room, he missed Hal and Flash's laughter, he missed-)

Billy blinked and was surprised at the moisture in his eyes. He took a deep breath and listened a moment longer to them talk before trying one of the ridiculously oversized sweaters Lisa chose for him.

The neck was too large, sliding off his shoulders so that he had to strategically keep it covering his scarred up left side. It wasn't exactly his color, nor something he ever planned on wearing, but he could at least humor her.

"Adorable. Fashionable."

"Impractical."

"Hush, Lenny."

"Try the button cardigan. The wool is thicker and it has inside pockets."

"No, no! The leather jacket one! The fabric on the inside is soft."

"Leather jackets aren't warm."

"This one is!"

"He has a jacket already-"

"And? He needs something besides a parka, Len!"

"Stop!" A swell of emotions rose in Billy's chest. This was all too much. "I really appreciate the effort, I do. But I don't… But my hoodies fit fine. My clothes are fine. I don't need new things! I don't want new things! I just…"

I want everything to stop.

I want everything to go back.

I don't want change.

"These are ugly, anyway," Lisa said in the face of heavy silence. "C'mon, we'll get some food." She grabbed at the pile of clothes and strode away.

In her absence, the dawning realization of what he had done started to crush Billy under its weight.

Why did he always mess things up?

Why did he always say the wrong things?

Captain Marvel was always good at words, at explaining things, at saying what he meant.

But not Billy. He never finds the right things to say, can never tell others what he's feeling, can never be wise and smart and charming.

No wonder the League didn't want him.

He ruined everything.

"You don't always get what you want, scarlet," Len said. He cool eyes never left Billy's face, so he turned away in shame because he knows that! He knows he never gets what he wants. "But new clothes aren't the problem here."

No, they weren't. Leonard Snart had always been a clever and sharp man, and Billy was getting sick and tired of feeling like just a child. Like he had no control over his life.

"Everything's changing. It's going too fast and I can't stop it and I just… I want… I don't wanna be lost," Billy said to the floor.

"Then pick a sweater," Len said.

That made no sense. This had nothing to do with sweaters!

Billy blinked up, baffled. "Wha?"

"You can't stop things from happening, you just admitted that," he shrugged as he gently nudged Billy back into the fitting room. "Don't beat yourself up over circumstances you can't change. It'll get you nowhere. Always be aware of what you can control, and always be aware that even those variables can shift. That's a part of life, kid. But that doesn't mean you can't enjoy the finer things in life."

Billy stood in the dressing room, and stared at his old, worn hoodie.

What was finer than being a part of the Justice League?

"That's terrible advice," he couldn't help but say.

"Then do something else."

His eyes moved toward the lone sweater hanging - dark red and soft, pockets on the inside.

Billy opened the door and felt himself smile because he didn't know what else to do with his face. His old hoodie was back on, but he clung onto the new sweater. "What does that even mean?"

Len smirked. "It means you chose a terrible color, but at least you picked something." His hand was firm on Billy's shoulder, warm and guiding. "Which is better than Lisa's choice, but I'm sure she's already stolen the leather jacket for you."

Billy laughed.

The seasons were changing.

And he was changing, too.

#shazamweek2019 #billy batson #leonard snart #fanfic writing #captain marvel #shazam #listen all i want is for billy to form a family from rogues and antiheroes #is that too much to ask?#there is no lesson here except Len is bad at advice towards kids and Billy needs to stop worrying #also he needs to just accept gifts.#someone plz help this boy

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magioftheseas · 5 years

Text

Chiaki & Yasuke

Summary: Nanami Chiaki’s FTEs in the SDR2 Protagonist Matsuda Yasuke AU. Yep. They’re almost completely different from canon.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Language and references to gore/hospital stuff because Matsuda.

Notes: I was just super into the mood to write more FTEs and I went for Nanami since her relationship with Matsuda is fun. It’s also one I noticed the most people (about three) voicing interest in. It’s pretty drastically different but I still tried to make them parallel the original somewhat. Do the two of them actually get closer? Well, I won’t give you the answer so easily. Anyway Nanami talks like a House of Dead 2 character. She does.

Read this fic among others HERE

Main story is HERE

Commission? Donate?

Up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, A, B, start.

Matsuda woke to the sound of furious button presses. The hotel air was as stale as ever. His neck fucking hurt from how he had slouched against the couch. At the very least, his manga had been carefully set down on the table, but he nevertheless found himself irritated at how he just fell asleep while reading.

Just because I got tired of my cottage. The hell was I thinking?

And that creepy otaku was happily booping away on the tabletop game. Although Matsuda was pretty damn sure the lobby had been empty when he entered. He’s sure because when he goes out, he goes out of his way to avoid people if he can help it.

And yet, the gamer chick is here. When he’s sure she has a million other things to do. How irritating.

Huffing, Matsuda pushed himself up. His neck throbbed and creaked and he groaned loudly as he tried to adjust it. He might need a neck pillow or something. Anything.

“Ugh. How annoying,” he mutters, grabbing his book. “I wasted all that time on a shitty nap. I doubt my brain flushed out the chemicals properly. No, I’m sure it didn’t. Great.”

Stretching doesn’t alleviate the aching of his joints, but he’s ready to head out regardless. He pops his lips as he starts with his best foot forward, only for someone to call out.

“Hey, why don’t you play a game with me before you go?”

Matsuda paused, turning to Nanami with a withered, unimpressed look.

“Just one,” she said, not looking at him but at the stupid fucking screen. “Or two. Or three. Or four. Maybe more.”

The fuck? Oh. The hell kind of bizarro world is this?

He thinks that, he thinks that, but he throws his hands up in preemptive defeat.

“Sure. Fine. Why the hell not.”

And that was the start of it. As well as the select, the downs, the ups, and the game.

The losing screen flashes in his face. He’s not surprised at it. He wasn’t surprised the first time.

“Another round,” Nanami droned at him. “You didn’t even try in that last one, Matsuda-kun.”

“What do you mean? My strategy of just pressing random buttons hasn’t changed a bit,” he pointed out. “I don’t have the time or brain space to learn the technicalities of this cheap-ass fighter game. Especially when the characters are all so ugly.”

“You consistently pick the same one,” she replied. “If it didn’t matter at all, you’d change things up a little.”

Matsuda stares darkly at the character in question as if it had betrayed him. What met his glare was an annoying innocent smile obscured by strings of red.

“I guess this fugly speaks to me on some level. Not that I’m remotely interested in what it has to say.” He selects them just as before. “Whatever. If you’re that fucking bored, then I guess I’ll pick the stage. Although does it really matter? They’re just different backdrops.”

“It helps with atmosphere, I think.”

You think. Games are supposed to be your fucking forte.

He ended up selecting the gothic horror-styled one. Not for any particular reason beyond it feeling right at the time. He immediately started his losing strategy of random button mashing, and while he got a few hits in due to unpredictability, Nanami Chiaki was perfectly capable of wiping the floor with him. To call it one-sided would be generous.

Another defeat. Another loss. Another smug winning animation of Nanami’s character, cheering and prancing around like a fucking deer.

He pressed start to skip through, but the screen lingered as the other player hadn’t done the same. So he waited because whatever, almost drifted off, and snapped back to attention when Nanami was the one who yawned.

“Am I boring you?” he asked, huffing. “What did you expect? Obviously, I’m not a match against you. This is your field, not mine. Or was this part of a sad attempt at psychoanalysis?”

“Um...” Nanami rubbed at her eye. “I do love games. I love playing games. And playing games with others is fun. It’s fun even with it’s with you.”

Even when it’s you. He wonders if he should be flattered. Ultimately, he doesn’t really care. He shrugs.

“Games are as good as a recreational activity as any, I suppose,” he mumbled. “But still between games and manga, the manga is the obvious victor for me. I’d rather not have to use my head unnecessarily when it comes to entertainment.”

“Unnecessarily?” Nanami parrots.

“Because gaming requires an engagement unlike any other,” Matsuda explained, perhaps a bit snappier than needed. “It’s interactive. The game cannot proceed without a player. It’s more...versatile, I suppose? That’s the main appeal of it, and I definitely see the value there, but, still.” He shook his head. “Not for me.”

“So that’s why you’re not really engaging,” Nanami muttered, puffing her cheeks. “Not really, I think.”

“If I asked you to go reading with me, you’d definitely fall asleep before finishing a chapter.” He paused for a moment, mulling that over. “But I guess maybe you’d put more of a show at participating.”

“Maybe. Books are okay. I guess.”

Matsuda twitched a little.

“Video games are okay. I guess.”

“But video games encapsulate all kinds of experiences,” Nanami said. “So I think you’re being a bit close-minded. There’s surely a game out there that speaks clearly to Matsuda-kun’s interests. Maybe we should give that a try.”

Matsuda perked. Nanami had clicked start so that the screen could change, but her gaze was more intense than before. Matsuda couldn’t help but let out a snort.

“I don’t doubt that, but I’m still not exactly interested in playing through it.” He waved his hand. “I’d rather watch someone else play.”

“I guess I can play it, then?” Nanami’s head tilted. “I guess we’ll both have fun that way. I think so, anyway. So, let’s go find that game. Um. There are simulations of surgeries.” Matsuda remembered those. He remembered those well.

I’ve actually played through those for training. It’s meant to ease you into the idea of cutting open a real person, but it doesn’t fully capture that. Doesn’t capture the feel of pulsing at your fingertips, the weight of that person’s mind and life on your shoulders. How a person can twitch and break if poked the wrong way.

And with all that in mind, he was really, incredibly, exhausted.

“Not right now. I’m going back to take an actual fucking nap.” He stands, and he does a half-assed salute. “Sayonara, bye-bye.”

“Later, then?” Nanami asked. She didn’t even sound hopeful. It was cold and robotic, like a coworker after a long, long day. It lowkey pissed him off, so he didn’t even respond.

“Ohhhh, it’s Matsuda-kuuuuun.”

“It’s meeeee.” Matsuda waved his hand dully. “I didn’t have anything better to do so here I aaaaaam.”

“Yaaaaay,” Nanami droned with no mirth whatsoever. “So, let’s go to my cottage, then. I dug around through my games and I found stuff that aligns with Matsuda-kun’s interests, I think. I also asked Usamonomi for other stuff.”

“You can just ask the rabbit for shit like that?” he asked, blinking. “Well, shit. I should’ve been taking advantage of that a long time ago. I could’ve cut down on time spent within the proximity of other people.”

Nanami blinks back at him. She already looks bored. And tired. What a mood.

“Were you serious about finding a game I’d like?”

“Absolutely,” she answered immediately with quite the serious expression. “Games are everything. If you can’t find a game you enjoy, what are you even doing with your life?”

“Other things.”

“Come on,” Nanami insisted. “I will drag you if I have to. Probably.”

I don’t want to go but having someone remark on the weird gaming otaku trying to shove me around isn’t exactly my idea of a better time. The best time would be reading manga. And not going crazy due to a lack of being able to work. God.

“Okay. Sure.”

He could only shrug his shoulders and move on along. And make faces at Nanami’s back all the while.

They got to her cottage easily, and Nanami was even walking a bit faster than usual to make the trip shorter. She had to dig around for her key, but it was only a minute before she unlocked the door and beckoned him within her gaming domain. Matsuda, unaffected as ever, just muttered platitudes as he followed in after her.

“Please excuse me.”

He scowled as he had to step over several cables and nearly flipped over the rug that happened to be the same shape as the hair clip Nanami wore. How obsessive was this chick? Even he didn’t have a specially designed rug. And the shape was impractical, too, it pissed him off.

God, what would life be without such useless luxuries, indeed.

“Ba, ba, baaa,” Nanami droned in a poor non-attempt to drill up anticipation. Before Matsuda could ask, she had shoved one of the handheld consoles into his face. It was pearly pink and well-worn, and also flicked on with the screen blinding. Squinting, Matsuda first heard the steady, synthesized heartbeat before he saw something pulsing in the depths of painfully light cyan blue. On closer inspection it was a heart, tubes and all. How quaint.

His eyes flickered over the title printed on the screen, and he exhaled.

“Yeah. That’s a video game alright.”

“You can play it,” Nanami said. “Or you can watch me play it. I guess.”

“I’ll watch you.”

“Okay.”

Nanami plopped onto the ground. She patted the spot beside her but Matsuda elected to just keep standing. He had no interest in getting overly cozy, that just...made him feel uncomfortable.

This chick in general makes me feel uncomfortable.

And she had already started the game. She was utterly fixated on the screen immediately, even when all she was doing was scrolling through dialogue and watching inane cutscenes. The music droned on, and Matsuda wondered if Nanami would notice him just leaving.

Tempting idea. But if I’m going to waste my time here, I better fucking commit.

He noticed that she used a stylus to navigate the various screens. It was definitely old, but in good shape. Hadn’t even been gnawed on the way most of Matsuda’s pens had been. If anything, Nanami had no idling or ticks as she played. It was as if every atom of her being couldn’t focus on anything else.

Creepy.

Really creepy. Totally inhuman. She’s not even blinking.

“Your eyesight’s going to go out,” he muttered under his breath. But she had started the stage, and Matsuda could only stare at the digitized rendition of a patient on the surgical table. Nanami drew the lines with her stylus, and the ‘skin’ split open, revealing the pulsing masses underneath.

There was music ticking, blaring and frantic. It annoyed him. If any music played during surgery, it was almost always classical. Fucking classical. It’s like he was back watching during his internship. He had been fascinated back then, watching how the body pulsed with life in spite of being cut open. The thrill of a person’s warmth when their inner intricacies were in his hands. The throbbing and spasming of those insides...and Matsuda only snapped out of it when the stage was cleared and triumphant music played.

And Nanami was looking up at him, bright-eyed and expectant. She offered him the game.

He shook his head. He felt twitchy all over. Anxious. Here he was, wasting his fucking time on this. There weren’t even any lives on the line. No excitement at all. He wouldn’t even learn anything. A simulation had nothing on the hands-on experience he used to be so familiar with.

And if I’m here for so long that I forget how to rewire a person...what will I do?

“It’s nothing like the real thing. It doesn’t even make the slightest difference.”

“Matsuda-kun?”

He leaves without another word.

He looks through the files in his cottage of weird animal-dressed people, and even mulling over them and trying to act like he’s working isn’t the most satisfying of activities. So, he heads out, reading his manga as he does, and sometimes irritably shielding himself from the sun. It’s painfully bright regardless of what he does, so he ends up in the hotel lobby once again.

And Nanami Chiaki is sleeping on his favorite spot, her handheld placed gently aside. She doesn’t sleep with any grace and is muttering about flying pigs and evil octopi. Matsuda shuts his manga irritably and he nudges her arm dangling over the side with the tip of his slipper. Nanami mutters something incoherent in between weird humming that may or may not have resembled classical music, and Matsuda smacks her head none-too-lightly with his book.

“Oi. If you’re going to sleep, do so in your fucking cottage not out here in the open. Do you have any self-preservation at all?” He smacks her again. “This is also bad for your back. And you already slouch so much. Geez.”

“Mm. The one who orders us. Cannot be negotiated with. Do not call.”

“What weird game are you playing in your head now?”

Nanami’s face scrunched up briefly. And quickly. Almost too quick to observe. Her eyes drifted open lethargically, wide and blank. Slowly, she pushed herself up, and there was only recognition in her dull gaze as she blinked at him.

“Matsuda-kun.”

What the hell was that about? Ah.

“Morning,” he greeted, not that curious. “Do you ever go anywhere else? Shut-in.”

“Mm,” Nanami mumbled, rubbing her eye with a yawn. “I feel most comfortable with games, but I suppose I should go to other places, too. Do you have any ideas, Matsuda-kun?”

“I don’t care. Anywhere should work.”

Her cheeks puffed, clearly displeased with the answer but Matsuda didn’t care enough to take it back.

“Is it that you’re getting bored of games or that you feel like there should be more to life? It’s none of my concern either way, but if you’re going to bother me about such nonsense, the least you can do is be clear about your motivations.”

Nanami stared at him, and after a while, her head tilted.

“It’s because you’re so difficult.”

Matsuda raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”

“Out of everyone here, Matsuda-kun is the most difficult,” she said simply, tugging up her hood. “At least, I think so.”

“That’s...a pretty fucking lofty claim, considering.” He said that, but in all honesty, he’s not that shocked. People have been calling him difficult all his life even amongst others with objectively worse traits. He’s used to this kind of bullshit.

It’s still annoying as fuck, though.

“That’s also not much of an explanation,” he pointed out. “Why the hell am I a factor in how you spend your free time? You don’t have to pay me mind.”

Nanami’s expression didn’t change, but he wondered if he imagined a shadow flickering across her gaze for the slightest moment.

“I spend a lot of time playing games, and I love games.” A pause. “Of course, games are about having fun. But there are other good things you can get out of it, too. Like, a greater understanding of yourself and the world around you.”

“That’s what it means to be art,” Matsuda replied dully. “So, what? What does this have to do with me specifically?”

“There’s a particular genre I have trouble with, I guess,” Nanami said, although she seemed kind of lost in thought about it. “It’s a genre that hinges on understanding others. Other, um, living people I think.”

Living people? The hell is up with that signifier? Is she actually a zombie?

He couldn’t ponder that further because Nanami was now pointing at him.

“And you, Matsuda-kun, are the most difficult person. So, I think I want to understand through you.”

“What a normal thing to say. And do.” Matsuda twitched. “It’s not my fucking responsibility if you have a social disorder.”

Although I wonder if that’s what it is. But it doesn’t matter. This doesn’t involve me.

“When I invited you to play games, I thought playing something that pertained to your interests would get you to open up,” Nanami explained next. “But you didn’t. You just got upset. Why?”

Ah. Okay. That’s a curiosity I can entertain.

“It’s because you assumed that my field is meant to entertainment.” He didn’t look at her, but he wasn’t going to run away. “I got into medicine and neurology out of necessity and purpose, not because I thought it’d be fun. Yes, it can be enjoyable but that’s such a selfish and stupid fucking way to look at it. Even the fucking narcissists don’t care about that.”

It’s about control. The control needed to save a person’s life.

“Narcissists?” Nanami parroted.

“Never mind. What I should be saying is that if you wanted to pick a game I’d enjoy; you should have picked something with magical girls.”

She perked up. “Oh, so Monomi.”

“Something a little more dignified would be preferred, but yeah. I guess. I can’t say I’m that rabbit’s biggest fan.”

If not for her shitty timing and shittier competence level, I’d at least tolerate her, I suppose.

“Um. So.” Humming, Nanami bounced on her heels, likely to keep herself awake. “What’s something that Matsuda-kun enjoys that I can take part in?” She looks at her book. “I can read with you, I guess? That’s sort of like co-op.”

“It’s nothing like co-op,” he snapped. “And I’d rather not have your creepy dead fish eyes staring holes over my shoulder.”

“I’m not a fish. I think. Fish can sleep underwater. And I’d drown if I tried that. Probably. But maybe I could survive if I collected enough bubbles.”

Matsuda stared at her for a long, long time.

“How about I look for a second copy of this book and you can read along or something?”

“Oh, I guess that’s also an option, huh.”

And such was what they went with. And so, Matsuda’s frustration and confusion with the one called Nanami Chiaki increased. But off to the library, all the same.

“Matsuda-kun, Matsuda-kun.”

Nanami was the one who waved him over, although she hardly looked happy to be doing so. Neutrality as always. It seriously weirded him out.

“Let’s go somewhere again,” she said. “Where would you like to be?”

“A...hospital. With patients. Where I’d be working. Obviously.”

Nanami frowned at him, perhaps a little put out. He couldn’t really tell. Maybe she was actually judging him or something. Considering how much time this chick spent on luxury activities, he wondered if she had any concept of work.

Then again, she doesn’t understand much. Isn’t she pestering me in the first place because of a game?

“That game you’re using me to get good at...it’s not unsavory, is it?”

“Unsavory?” Nanami parroted, like she wasn’t sure what the word meant. He shuddered a bit at the implication of such a scenario. “I do want to understand other people. That’s important, right?”

“I guess. But normally a person’s intention would be social climbing.”

“Like gaining social links?” Nanami seemed to think that over. “Well, there are benefits to that. New abilities. Matsuda-kun would grant greater precision. The ability to better aim. Sharp Precision. That’s what it’d be called.”

She’s now talking through me rather than at me. Fucking rude.

“Right. Precision granted, then. Good-bye.”

He turns on his heel and walks away. It’s not all that dramatic, because Nanami just trots after him without missing a beat. One might compare it to being followed by something cute, like a puppy, a kitten, or a duckling. Matsuda felt it more akin to the security cameras.

“That’s not how it works,” Nanami finally spoke after they walked a good distance across the island. “I feel like concluding here would be a bad ending, I’m sure of it.”

Bad ending? So like...a dating sim route?

Gross.

“Alright. So, a question.” He distracted himself with one of the monitors. And one of the cameras. What he’d give for a rock to break both of them. “You’re pretty good at games, right?”

“Mm?”

“Like, it’s your talent. You must be really fucking absurdly good at games.” He still didn’t look at her. “How much do you think I’d have to mess with your head to make you bad at them?” A pause. “One practice during open brain surgery is having the patient playing a game while you poke around. If they go from doing really well to really poorly, you have an idea that you’re doing something wrong. So how about it?” He glanced back. “Wanna test that?”

Nanami didn’t look disturbed. She didn’t even look displeased. She did, however, visibly size him up and shook her head.

“Even if I was bad at games, I’m sure I’d still enjoy them. It’s not about winning or losing, after all.”

That’s...absolutely not what you should be concerned about. Creepy. So fucking creepy. She has the sense to not go for it, but seriously?

If I lost my capabilities for even a moment, I don’t know what I’d fucking do with myself. If I couldn’t focus on something that important, what would I even be living for?

“Oh.” Nanami sighed. “Matsuda-kun looks upset again. At this rate, I’ll never get a good ending.”

Gross. Gross, gross, gross.

“Life doesn’t have any endings,” he bit out. “There’s also no milestones, not really. No plot points. Certainly no impeccable strategy. Don’t you get that?”

She blinked at him. Once. Twice.

“Mm.” She shrugs. “Matsuda-kun, I have a magical girl game we can play together. It’s a fighter. The combos are really simple. I think you’d enjoy it.”

“It’s always about games with you, isn’t it?” He rolled his eyes. “Look. The second we get off this island, I’m going to throw my everything back into work. There’s no point in building a relationship that’s just going to fall apart. Especially when the person you’re looking to build it with is as difficult as I am.”

Nanami blinked at him again. This time, she was quiet.

“I’m going back,” he said, rubbing at his nape. “Thanks for joining me on the walk, but no thanks to your weird, detached advances.”

“It’s because I want to understand you, Matsuda-kun,” she replied simply. “Because it’s difficult for me, too. I think.”

Is it? Is it really?

No matter how he looked at it, it was a fucking weird sentiment to express. It wasn’t normal. Not at all. Nanami Chiaki wasn’t remotely normal.

I actually...do kind of want to split her head open and get a look for what’s inside.

But he can’t really do that, so for now he just brushes her off.

“I’d rather just not be bothered.”

“Hmmm. Well,” Nanami hummed, shrugging as well. “Maybe you’re tired? I’ll talk to you later, Matsuda-kun.”

This time, she’s the one to walk away. Like it’s that simple.

How exhausting.

He’s lying on bed, manga draped over his face and hands laced behind his head. He’s decently close to being asleep, but there’s a knock on his door. Pulling the manga off and setting aside, he groaned loudly.

“Leave a message.”

And then, he heard someone stuffing just that under his door. Pushing himself up, Matsuda stared at the folded-up paper now on his floor. Sighing, he went and retrieved it. The handwriting was surprisingly neat.

Matsuda-kun,

Hang out with me?

He had half a mind to crumble it up, but instead he just opened the door. Sure enough, she was still there.

“I hear letters can be a good starting block,” Nanami said simply. Like it was just common knowledge. “So they really are effective, huh.”

“Did you just have this on you?” Matsuda shook his head. “Don’t actually answer that. I don’t want to know. What I will ask is why you’re bothering me. Again.”

“I’ve hung out with other people,” she responded, head tilted. “And I think I learned a bit about human interaction. But, Matsuda-kun is still the most difficult. I think.”

“Mmgh.” She really is an odd one, isn’t she? That said. “You really think we can get along, huh? I don’t remotely understand how but to be honest, I don’t understand how you think at all. Sure I can’t cut open your head?” He snorted. “Kidding.”

Nanami’s expression still didn’t change. He still couldn’t get a read on her.

“Walk with me, Matsuda-kun?”

“Alright. Sure. Whatever.”

There wasn’t any point either way, so he figured he might as well. It wasn’t often someone sought him out willingly, right?

...right?

His head hurt a little.

“We can stop by the supermarket, I think,” Nanami says after he shuts the door behind him. “If your head hurts.”

He waved his hand to brush off the remark and followed her lead.

“When talking to many people, I guess I learned a lot of things,” she rambled on ever dully. “I know quite a bit from games, but that can only teach me so much about the world, I think.”

Matsuda said nothing to that, rubbing his temples.

“There was something in particular that frustrated and confused me,” she added. “Something that I wanted to understand.”

“Dating sims?” Matsuda asked wryly, unimpressed.

She didn’t respond, either to confirm or to elaborate. Matsuda huffed, but he expected as much.

“Y’know most games that simulate interaction miss out on a lot of nuances to actual conversations. Just like most thing,” he found himself saying. “No matter how intricate the control screen, there’s an ocean of difference between playing a game about a subject versus engaging with it in the real world. That’s another reason why your doctor games don’t do much for me.”

“I suppose that makes sense, huh.” Strangely, Nanami almost sounded wistful. “But, it’s still something I’d like to understand better. Interacting with others, building relationships, falling in love, things like that.”

They’re at the beach now. Nanami pauses to stare out towards the ocean. Matsuda wondered what he saw beyond the sunlight broken and scattered across the surface. The seagulls flying overhead, and the rolling waves.

“I don’t understand love, but... I don’t think you do, either, Matsuda-kun.”

Matsuda’s eyes narrowed sharply and he would’ve snapped back except suddenly his head hurt and he nearly choked. He gagged, too, feeling sick and light-headed.

“U-Urgh. Urgh.”

“Matsuda-kun.” A gentle hand on his head. “Forget I said anything.”

He flinched, but, his mind went blank for a moment and he swallowed back both saliva and bile. Noticing how close Nanami was standing to him, and how her stare was the most unsettling it has ever been, he scowled.

“What was that? I felt like you said shit that was seriously fucking rude before.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Liar.”

Nanami shrugs and from there it’s whatever. Just whatever.

“Hey, Matsuda-kun.” She tugs at her hood. “If you do ever leave, do you think you’ll be bothered to remember everyone?”

“You’re a difficult bunch to forget,” Matsuda snapped. “But as for you, I really can’t be clearer about my lack of interest. By the way, getting to know someone because you want to score fictional lovers on a game is kinda shit.”

“That was actually an excuse, but I figured it wouldn’t work on you.” She shrugged again. “But we spent enough time together that there must be something between us.”

“What a gross remark.”

“So difficult,” Nanami muttered. However, something tugged at her lips. “But I would like for you to get along with everyone, I think. Despite everything. I’m sure.”

“You really do sound like that obnoxious rabbit sometimes,” he responded, puffing his cheeks. She did the same.

“Because getting along with others is important, Matsuda-kun. You should know that.”

Of course I do. But the idea is such a hassle. Such a headache. I have to wonder if it’s worth the trouble.

But, he won’t deny that the idea of a future alone and isolated was a chilling one. He was still human, after all. Humans are social creatures by nature. It was how their species survived, as stupid as it was.

Even if I can’t begin to understand someone like the gamer zombie, it won’t be that way for most other people. And for all her faults, I suppose she’s capable like any other person. I suppose there are a couple of things about her that I can get, even if it’s not everything. But before all of that, one thing is certain.

As both he and Nanami stared out across the endless blue of the ocean waves, he could only truly seek after what laid beyond.

I have to get out of here.

#yasuke matsuda #matsuda yasuke #chiaki nanami #nanami chiaki #Protag Matsun #Magi fics #sdr2 #dr0 #sdr2 spoilers #hinted at #This ended up a lot longer than Hiyoko's but I enjoyed writing it #should I tag the pairing even though it's not really a thing #I didn't for the last one #well #whatever #MatsuNami #I want to do another one before we get back to updating the main story #i-it's not to give myself more time to finish Chapter 2 #I swear

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benisasoftboi · 5 years

Text

In Which I Explain The Entirety of Star Wars, Despite Being Very Much Unqualified To Do So

I have only seen one Star Wars movie - it was The Last Jedi. I saw it, with no context, two years ago in theatres when it first came out. I was very surprised to find out that it made a lot of people very angry, because I quite liked it, as did the friends I saw it with. I can’t say I remember much though.

All the rest of my Star Wars knowledge comes from its generally inescapable nature in the pop cultural zeitgeist. I might have seen a bit of Episode 6, which I don’t know the name of, when I was round a friend’s house once, but I was very tired, and it was about a decade ago anyway.

That’s just some context for my lack of qualifications to do this. My friend said I should still do it anyway. I will not be looking anything up as I write this, so all spelling mistakes and other general errors are mine.

So anyway - The Entirety of Star Wars:

Original Trilogy

There is a guy called Luke. He is played by Mark Hamill and he is George Lucas’s self insert. He lives on a planet where there is only sand, because in this universe all planets have only one terrain, I think. He drinks milk. The milk might be blue.

A guy played by Liam Neeson finds Luke. I think this guy’s name is probably Obi Wan Kenobi, but I might have that wrong. At some point he will die tragically and it will be formative for Luke, but then he will also come back as a ghost. Ghosts exist in this universe.

Possibly Luke has known this guy for a long time or possibly he is a stranger, I am not sure. Somehow they end up on a spaceship.

Luke needs to learn how to use magic powers called the Force, which seems to be mostly telekinesis, and also lets him use a really fancy but probably impractical sword called a lightsaber that shoots blue or sometimes green or sometimes red light. This is called Jedi training. Jedi Knight is a religion. You can claim to be one on the census in the real world. They seem to be really serious people despite having a silly name.

Everyone also has guns that go ‘pew pew pew’ and nerds get really mad when you make fun of that.

Luke will meet many colourful and interesting people on his journey. These include:

A woman played by Carrie Fisher who is also his twin sister but he doesn’t know that until after they kiss. Her name is Leia or maybe Laia. She has silly hair. At one point she wears a slave bikini because she’s enslaved to a gelatinous blob because that’s just how it goes when you’re the woman in a 70s sci-fi movie

A guy called Han Solo because he is Edgy and Does Things Solo. He and Leia have a romance and it’s Drama. He also has a spaceship that people will build very impressive lego replicas of. He dresses like a cowboy. I’m 90% that he is played by Harrison Ford

A bunch of walking teddy bears called Ewoks who can kill you and live in a jungle

A guy called Lando Calrissian who I think wears fancy clothes and that’s all I know about him, he might actually be a villain I’m not sure. He might die?

A little blue robot who hid behind some rocks one time and then in the re-release he hid behind more rocks than before and the fans got Mad

A big gold robot who is nervous and gay and might be gay for the little blue robot, like they might be married but that also might be a meme I’m not certain

A weird green goblin thing called Yoda who makes Luke carry him around and speaks in broken English that annoying people have spent the last thirty years imitating. He dies, but then is a ghost so it doesn’t matter really

A guy called Boba Fett who is a bounty hunter. I genuinely have no clue how he fits in to all of this. He might not actually be from Star Wars, maybe I’m mixing him up with something else.

Luke is also trying to fight the Evil Darth Vader who works for an Evil CGI Emperor of the Evil Empire. They live on a big spaceship called the Death Star and it looks like a moon but isn’t and people think it’s funny when you point that out for some reason. They are the Dark Side, which makes them easy to root against because they’re just cartoonishly evil I guess. I think they are also bureaucrats. They have Stormtroopers, who might be brainwashed people or might just be robots, or might even be clones. They all wear identical white armour with helmets so people don’t care when they get shot. Kinda like fencers.

Darth Vader is actually Luke’s father and this is a twist except not anymore. This means he is also Leia’s father, I’m not sure if she knew. Also Luke loses his arm. Darth Vader gets redeemed and then dies but also takes down the Evil CGI Emperor with him.

I don’t know what happens in any of the movies, but I know that the first one ends with them getting plans for or from Leia, not sure, the second one has the dad twist, and the third one has ghosts. Also they blow up the Death Star by shooting a garbage chute really hard.

Prequels

These movies are widely disliked. The first one has too much bureaucracy. They are about Darth Vader’s backstory. He used to be a guy called Anakin. He will Become Evil. He will also meet many colourful characters. They include:

His love interest, who is called Padme. She wears a silly hat and dies of a combination of Childbirth and Sadness. I saw this bit happen one time when I was a kid and I was stuck round my mum’s friend’s house and her son was playing through this part in the LEGO game. It was sad

A guy with a red face whose name might be Maul and has robot legs?

A guy called Jar Jar Binks who everyone seems to simultaneously hate and feel a desperate need to make sex jokes about

Angry Jedi People

Probably some robots

Anakin hates sand and is pretty but grumpy. His hatred of sand is what will prevent him from finding Luke in the original movies. He falls in a volcano and gets turned into a robot man and it’s very dramatic. He has an angry red lightsaber. He murders a bunch of children by executing Order 66. Or maybe that was in the first set of movies I don’t know. I’m not sure how they made three of these movies, there doesn’t seem to be much to them.

Also there is something called ‘mitoclorians’ and I don’t know what they are but they make nerds Very Mad.

Expanded Universe

There was an expanded universe, but Disney said it wasn’t canon when they bought the rights, so now it isn’t. If I were a Star Wars fan, I would not take this lying down, because what right does Disney have to say what’s canon? Why is it up to the copyright holders? They are a corporation, not a writer. Expanded universes are always really fun and full of wacky nonsense that would never get put in the mainline stuff. I don’t like it when people try to dismiss them.

Stand Alone Movies

When the new trilogy started, they also made some stand alone films. They were called Rogue One and Solo. Rogue One is about a woman named Gin or Jinn or Jin or Ginne or - I wish I hadn’t restricted myself to not looking anything up - Urso. The spelling doesn’t matter because she dies. So does everyone else. Then Darth Vader shows up.

Solo is about Han Solo and his friends and they have an adventure and there’s a robot who wants robot rights but she dies so no one has to address the slavery thing. Also apparently it was going to be a comedy but got reshot as a drama. I hope I never watch it because that sounds terrible, even as much as I like Donald Glover who I think is in it probably. I think his character might have been in love with the dead robot.

Sequel Trilogy

These movies are about a girl called Rey. She makes nerds mad by existing and being the protagonist. She is Space British. She is a scavenger and is friends with a really cute little orange robot. Somehow she ends up in space. She starts hanging out with Older Leia’s crew, which include a pilot named Poe Dameron and a guy called Finn, but I don’t know why he’s there. People ship them with each other, and also with Rey.

The other person people ship Rey with is Kylo Ren, who I call Space Zuko because when I saw The Last Jedi, he showed up and I was like ‘oh, it’s Zuko from Avatar: The Last Airbender but in space’, because he has bad hair and is angry about his Daddy Issues. I hope in the next movie he gets better hair and fewer Daddy Issues like Real Zuko did. A lot of people get really angry about Rey and Space Zuko being shipped together, but they’re still the most popular ship on AO3. So no matter what happens in the next one, nerds are going to be mad about it, and I am not looking forward to it.

Kylo Ren killed his dad, Han Solo, because he was radicalised to be evil for reasons I don’t know. The guy who runs the New Evil Group, which is called the First Order, is an ugly CGI guy called Snoke. It was apparently a Big Twist that Kylo kills him Last Jedi, and it made nerds really mad. I don’t understand why people were surprised, because when I saw the movie, I saw that guy and was like ‘oh he’s gonna get killed by Space Zuko because that would be Drama and also from a production standpoint having a guy who needs lots of special effects is much more difficult than just having Adam Driver wear a scary mask’ and then I was right so maybe I’m smarter than all the nerds.

There is also a guy called Hux and he is a ginger. I think he is evil.

The other thing people got really mad about was that Rey’s parents were not established characters. People wanted her dad to be Luke, I think, who is in Last Jedi. I was happy about this because I like Mark Hamill. He spent the movie teaching her about the force while they hang out on an island with a race of merchandising opportunities called Porgs. He dies at the end but he might be in the next one as a ghost anyway.

Also there was a girl called Rose and people decided that not liking the character meant they could be mean to the actress, which is not true and everyone who was mean to her should be ashamed. There was another woman as well, but I don’t remember her name, she had purple hair and was serious and I have no idea if she was good or evil.

Kylo Ren’s real name is Ben which is not very sci-fi. Maybe that’s why he changed it.

Though come to think, Luke isn’t a very sci-fi name either.

Anyway, that’s everything I know about Star Wars.

Feel free to ask me questions about Star Wars and have me try to answer.

Do not, under any circumstances, try to actually explain Star Wars to me. I’m much happier as is, thank you very much

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