#behold my first real attempt at a comic

[kinkshame-the-courier]

#courier chaye #my art #ellis art #fallout new vegas #fnv #courier oc #courier six #arcade gannon #courier x arcade #arcade x courier #courier/arcade #sixcade #I can’t think of a clever caption so I’m leaving it as is #behold my first real attempt at a comic #this took six hours. #which is a long time for me. my full color pieces usually only take 1 or 2 lol

[chthonicgodling]

okie dokie well as threatened over here, behold beneath the cut a quick - ok no. COMICALLY LARGE AND LONG summary of some choice events of Elysium!Loki’s past that had taken place not only long before his formal entrance into Elysium, but also long before [coughing fit] the events of uhhh 2012 - AND EVEN, ALSO, long before the events of [LONGER COUGHING FIT] 2011, if yyyaaaa knowwwww—

[tw I guess for. well a multitude of things but child death is a big one.,, also uh, regular murder, and. such.]** actually that’s all in part TWO?? yeah this ended up having to be TWO PARTS UHHHHHH—-

basically uwuwuwu the summary rundown of this entire post is that the ~*famous*~ stories of Norse mythy have very much taken place for Elysium!Loki, just like. all long beforehand!!

first! some additional background. we know that in the elysiumverse when Loki ended up down there fresh off his attempted world domination the agreement for him to be allowed to stay was if he was able to be rehabilitated and like. get fuckin therapy. no supervillains allowed;

we’ve done a similar sequence of events in Elysium a couple times, been calling it Dream Theater or Memory Theater where by recruiting the assistance of dream gods and sleep gods (Epi, Hypnos) and eventually some therapy gods (accessory background character Epione, literal therapist of Elysium, tho she wasn’t around in the beginning Loki era), the memories of events past can be “entered” and viewed like a movie, relived by an audience. okay yes the Loki show did a smaller scale version of this which is truly hilarious but we did it first in 2012 ahahh. Dream Theater is initiated if the owner of said memories finds it too difficult to talk about any of it and finds it easier to just Show™ (like Maci, flashbacking with Tory about Thanatos like 3 yes ago)….. or if the owner, again fresh off a streak of villainy, petulantly refuses to open his goddamn mouth about a single thing to try to fix himself and thus sends everyone forcibly spelunking (you know who. LOKI. AHHH).

this is maybe not the best of therapy methods. tbh. but it….. kinda worked I fuckin guess lmAO???? we love our dubious morality here in the palace!! Well anyway so collectively indeed, a decade ago Tory, Epi, and actually the Elysium!version of Thor too (plus some others?? idk some things have been retconned I think) did gather round to learn some interesting and horrifying things about Loki’s past prior to where he was then in that moment, via prying Loki’s memories open and just watching it all unfold! I’ve certainly discussed many of those events over the years but here is a cute compilation because my brain is in Loki mode lately and yknow what maybe some of you don’t know all this! BEHOLD-

firstly yyeahah that ye old actual m/cu fanon thing of “:(( aww thors friends hated Loki and always left him out and bullied him since childhood so of course he would snap” with no real textual evidence of that in the— okay whatever but that IS actually canon in Elysium lmao oops. per my Brand ™ this fits our trend of All Olympians Are Evil, samesies re the Aesir and Odin/frigga being actual assholes on purpose - so that’s first things first

(Worth mentioning I guess thor was oblivious to all of that and particularly how Loki FELT about all of it, as well as some events that will follow, until all these dream sessions)

next - sleipnir! all of loki’s kids very much exist in the Elysium!verse - although sleipnir is one of just two remaining who have NOT been freed in some capacity into Elysium by the modern day ;(( the story is basically mythologically accurate and idk, Loki as a late teen?? Just vanished off the face of the planet and then returned nine months later with a little spider foal. which Odin promptly was like…. Ok sick, free horse. confiscated! Cool dad very traumatizing!! sleipnir remains to this DAY imprisoned in odin’s stable, he IS fully sentient just. horse shaped. scream.

Loki’s choice rebellion to follow was flouncing off to hook up with random Jotunn giantess Angrboda whomst I have actually drawn one time somewhere in here - she was kindave a dick <3 but when Loki ended up pregnant he continued to secretly see her for his own ulterior motives (COLLECTING CHILDREN) - the three that angrboda sired were, in order; Hela, Fenris (Fen) and Jörmundgandr (Jör),,

Loki by that time had picked up the habit of just fuckin up and disappearing every time he ended up knocked up, traumatized by the loss of Sleipnir and hiding pregnancies/ the babies from his family who would prob whisk them away as well. yyyou might or should know the trio’s deal from Norse mythos?? hela, a regular little girl EXCEPT half of her body was deceased and decomposing away; Fen, giant wolf - Jör, giant sea serpent. they at least started small ;0; after Jör was born Angrboda was like holy shit can you stop with these fuckin KIDS what IS THIS and peaced out officially. Loki was fully hiding from the palace and kept and raised them “out of the eyes of” Odin and co.,, thor did eventually discover them and kept them secret too tho he was uh. alarmed and slightly grossed out but ok bet whatever Loki wanted to do he was supportive iggg

To keep up appearances once thor knew about the kids Loki would pop back up in Asgard again here and there just solely so no one else went out to look for him. also now since thor could babysit. lmao. around this time he met SIGYNNNN-

yes >:)) sigyn DOES exist in Elysium!! she has never made a real appearance in the elysiumverse other than in these flashbacks at the time. Sigyn was also a sorceress and befriended Loki when he caught her defending him to people being bitchy in the palace; he eventually snuck her out to his secret house and introduced her to the three kiddos whomst loved her <33 Hela was like seven or eight ish?? obv soon after Loki and Sigyn began hooking up and became a couple

aaand then around then Odin (who, knows everything, and of course had known about the three since. Day one.) Sent a notice of first warning to his son that the three Monsters were a direct threat to Asgard and needed to be peacefully surrendered for imprisonment or else be seized by force. bc that’s what great grandparents do 🙃 furious obv Loki went straight to Odin to plead his case and refuse to his face to give them up but that conversation went 💞badly💞

a second letter of warning was sent instead - Loki devoted all of his energy to convincing Odin that they were not a threat, recruiting thor to try and argue in his favor too. this also did not workkkk. a third letter - sent, shredded - as Loki began to plot a way to fully hide himself and the three forever IT WASSS TOO LATE and an ambush was orchestrated on their house~ the literal only thing that stopped Loki from slaughtering the guards sent to imprison them away was the looming threat of violence to the kids and to keep them physically safe Loki surrendered, though sigyn still had to hold him back. Hela was like 15 years oooldddd

So again, this is now Norse mythos, the fates of Loki’s children, literal children at that time - Hela was cast into isolation in Niflheim to become Queen of the Dead. she’s still there actually!! she’s the other one of Loki’s kids who have not moved into Elysium :(( Jör was thrown into Midgard where he resided in the oceans as an ouroboros circling the world; Fen was imprisoned in special chains in (god I don’t remember where and I don’t feel like looking it up) anyway. all scattered away. and taken--

for thefirst time literally ever i have RUN OUT OF SPACE IN A TUMBLR POST???? I MAXED MY CHARACTER LIMIT OUT?!!!!! this will be continued in a. Part two wtf!!

#A POST SO LONG THAT I MAXED OUT THMBLRS CHARACTER LIMIT???? did NOT KNOW IT EVEN HAD ONE #oc talk #YES I’m tagging this as ocs I. do not care. anyway teehee :/)) #this is sssoooooo… aah!! Scream!!!! #filling up my own tags and…. #ok. #eloki

[talenlee]

Story Pile: My Hero Academia, Season 1

New Post has been published on PRESS.exe: Story Pile: My Hero Academia, Season 1

Nothing quite like striking after the iron’s gone.

This is the last year in which My Hero Academia will not be an anime that ‘has run for ten years.’ Seems a fine time to get into this superhero comic book anime for tweens. Behold, beyond the fold, I will be talking about the first season of the anime and that means some spoilering.

My Hero Academia, in the first season, is an anime from 2016, based on a 2014 ongoing manga about a futuristic world where most people have superpowers, and the job of ‘superhero’ is an idolised and widely respected job that leads to kids attempting to join highly competitive schools to pursue it, in a sort of mashed up hybrid of an idol career but also a dash of the idea of being a doctor. It’s a big deal, and our protagonist, Deku, wants to become a superhero, except I said most people have superpowers and our hero does not.

This is the first place where the story kind of skewed off of what I expected; I knew at the start of the series of the hook of The Misfit Toy wants to be a Real Boy, and that Deku had the drive to be a great hero, but no powers to back it up. The opening also shows off his notebooks in which he’s been drilling about being a hero for his whole life, learning about and studying them for ages, while grappling with what it means to be ‘without power’ and how that is different to being ‘powerless.’

The other major thing people know about in the series is the character of All Might, a sort of iconistic vision of a Superman-style hero modelled in the anime vein; he’s an enormous, larger than life gigachad who is faster, stronger, and tougher than anyone he faces, and he’s the internationally vital symbol of what it means to be a hero, to be peaceful, to save the day, with a real red-white-and-blue Americana aesthetic over everything.

What I thought was going to happen off this starting position is that Deku gets into Hero High School despite having no powers because this All Might guy sees him and sees something in him and the whole story is about someone developing a power or routing around the absence of powers or maybe just learning to choose powers, but turns out I was straight up wrong. Instead, the first episode explains to us that All Might is a dying icon, a symbol whose powers are limited and who does his heroing around his medical disability, but the power he has is a power that can be passed on from person to person, getting stronger every time. Then, after some training to ensure that Deku can handle it, he shares his power with him, and we now get a much more standard story about Deku becoming a superhero with All Might’s power, which is also so powerful that every time Deku lets himself use it, the power completely effs up his everything, limbs and bones and all.

The first season covers this introduction, brings Deku to school where he meets a pretty awful teacher, gets introduced to a big group of characters, gets his first superhero outfit, and then there’s a multi-episode fight where some villains attack the school to draw out All Might in an attempt to kill him and destroy The Symbol Of Peace.

This is a good chunk of story, especially for introducing a superheroic story that’s going places, it’s just that it’s always a rough sell when a story introduces a pitch to you that gives you an exciting idea then does sometihng else entirely. I thought this was going to be a show that slow-rolled his Getting A Superpower a lot more, but nope, turns out it’s pretty much gunna happen straight away, also him getting in on one of the most dire secrets in world history.

These things that feel like they’d have been great plot points to develop into are much more about setup, which gives the story time to develop the idea of a Superheroic High School, giving you things like superhero teachers and examples of superhero infrastructure, and then have a good old fashion superhero fight scene with the added texture of a bunch of loser heroes on hand for us to cheer for.

I don’t think, watching this, that this is going to be a superhero series I like. Too many moments were set up with an opportunity to do things I really like, that I’m really excited by as a superhero storytelling device, and instead it chooses to do something that I guess is more obviously shonen battle anime. There’s a definite flair to the combat mechanisms but also the combat doesn’t free itself of the way fights get drawn out, and there’s a lot of recapping and reiterating between ad breaks that feels like old tech that stories like this have moved past.

Also, am I too suspicious in saying that this looks like a show that introduces a lot of girls to be present on marketing but will never really do much with them? I feel like there’s a better handle on the awful little twerp Mineta, a character who has gotten a lot of dialogue and expressed his opinions more than we need. I dunno, I feel that if the creepy perv of the class gets more attention and development than the girl in the class, it’s a sign of what the story thinks of as ‘relatable.’ This is meant to be an elite class of people who tested highly, so why are there shitty little arseholes like that and complete losers with powers like ‘has tape’ alongside ‘can synthesise any material?’

Oh, and one last beef about the first season. In the physical testing with quirks the characters do, the teacher tells them he’s added together their scores to get their ranks. Ochaco ranks half-way, despite the fact that one of her tests, the throw-a-ball test, gave a numerical response of infinity. Know what you get when you add ten to infinity?

Yeah!

I dunno, I feel like in that situation, you could have just put her at #1 in the class and had an explanation offered after the fact, but nope, gotta put her in the middle for no good fucking reason I guess. It’s so strange, like I feel like the ranking was based out of a gut feeling but then they include the idea it’s a sum of scores.

My Hero Academia is Bleach for swordphobes. You have the same kind of vast cast of under-developed characters made to fit a visual motif or aesthetic, things that the story promises no really, we’re going to cover this later, we’re going to expand on it, but I am doubtful. The first season wants you to ask questions, but the way it answers what it has so far leaves me feeling like the answers will be very unsatisfying.

I’m not tapping out of the series! It’s still, you know, fine, it’s just a very popular, mainstream series based around cool identifiable characters with special powers and a popular aesthetic that wants me to keep watching because it Will Explain Things Later.

I don’t think it’ll explain it well.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

#Anime

#Anime

[pcbryan]

On Goncharov, Italian History, and Donald Duck

I saw Goncharov trending inexplicably, and thought I might add some scholarly perspective to the film.

I first ran across it working in a video store back in 2005 or so; we still had a lot of random old VHS, though were slowly converting the stock to DVD.  Some long-ago manager had the foresight to buy a lot of low budget and foreign films - we had a wonderful collection of 1980s anime, though I was always unclear of how much of it was the official release, and how much of it was fansubbed bootlegs - and it helped keep things afloat, weirdly, in small town Michigan.  I mention this because I’m not sure if the copy of Goncharov I saw was an official cut, and in hindsight I think there was some questionable legality to the battered old video tapes with simple labels.

The film that everyone seems to be describing certainly sounds like the film I saw, though some of the scenes sound different; Ice Pick Joe dies, but I remembered it being a pack of wild dogs that finally kills him, after he is wounded in in the cathedral shootout?  I always thought it was meant to symbolize the quagmire of Vietnam (I remember commenting to a friend something about “it’s just like Iraq!”), but it seems like maybe I am misremembering, or that I am approaching this to my own American Studies-centric framing.  I’m not sure if there is a director’s cut or producer’s cut floating around, and I wish I had kept the tape, but it looks like all of have left from my video store days are a bunch of Armored Trooper VOTOMS and a few Mr. Vampire movies.

In any case, as a scholar, I think I can address the rumors that this was funded with CIA or State Department money, since this was an ongoing thing in this period.  The good news is that it probably was not; this is a lot like the rumors of the CIA funding Donald Duck comics (which I do touch on in my book: https://books.google.com/books/about/The_Dream_of_Three_Lifetimes.html?id=cPenwgEACAAJ), but I haven’t seen any records to indicate that Scorsese was paid by any governmental agency.  It is certainly not impossible; there are plenty of documents from the era still hidden away in archives, but these were paid out to local governments who then hired the filmmakers in question, so it may have been that it was funneled through other agencies.

That said, the CIA was active in Italy in this period, and there are unconfirmed rumors of an attempted neo-fascist coup that never came to pass, and this was a very...tumultuous time.  It is plausible that the uncertainty in Italy lead to the tripyth structure of the film: the far right and far left were violently active in this period, and it is possible that famous Americans could have been the targets of criminal action.  In hindsight, the film might have been a commentary on the Years of Lead, with this as an effort to explore the futility of that struggle...though this was produced five years before Aldo Moro’s kidnapping and murder, which would be the most obvious point of comparison to the end of the film, with the sense that nothing is solved, that time will keep marching on despite all of the death and suffering, just as the Cold War would in the real world.

The only other think I can think to add about Goncharov is that it did show up in as a reference in a few Romano Scarpa Disney comics.  I think they are more one-off references than full adaptations (compare to Guido Martina’s Mickey’s Inferno), but I don’t have the originals, so this is guesswork.

I think this is a reference to the scene in the junkyard, with the kangaroo standing in for Mario Ambrosini:

This seems like a pretty clear reference to the homoerotic subtext between Goncharov and Andrey’s big scene, just taken to its comical extreme:

I haven’t seen the Goncharov references in the English translations of Scarpa, but most of his stories are still untranslated, so there might be more out there.  That said, while writing this post, I did think of Don Rosa, and low and behold (from “A Matter of Some Time”):

The Beagle Boys, freezing time to escape on a ladder of birds?  I don’t know if it was a reference to Scarpa’s work, a reflection of Rosa’s Italian lineage, or someone finding this film decades before Tumblr did, but this cannot be a coincidence.  Might have a paper to write for next years International Communication Association!

#Goncharov #Disney #Italy

[rawbutsometimesfunny]

The Best Blonde Jokes

Blonde jokes are based totally on the idea that people (ordinarily girls) with blonde hair are naive, gullible, and... Well, simply simple stupid. You will assume that this simple premise would get antique - but lo and behold it does no longer, the high-quality blonde jokes are alive and properly inside the 21st century! For some purpose, like being attracted to the tabloids at the supermarket checkout counter, I simply can't get enough of them, so i present to you the great blonde jokes I realize of - and i wish that they make you crack a grin and chortle the rest of the day!

Blonde funny story #1: "blonde looking out"

A redhead became nicely over the speed restrict when she requested her blonde passenger, "see any police officers behind us?" the blonde grew to become round for a protracted appearance. "Howdy, yeah, i do." "Rattling!" asked the redhead. "Are his flashers on?" the blonde answered, "yep, nope. Yep, nope. Yep, nope."

blonde comic story #2: "first magnificence to Vegas"

The blonde plopped down in first elegance no matter her educate ticket. The stewardess told her, "Omit, you must move for your seat." however the blonde merely smiled smugly. "Honey, you do not recognize: I am cute, I'm blonde, and whilst i am getting to Las Vegas, I'm going to be wealthy." even the pinnacle stewardess couldn't make her flow. "I am lovable, I am blonde, and whilst I am getting to Las Vegas, I'm going to be rich." eventually the captain changed into summoned. He whispered inside the blonde's ear, she gave him a surprised look, then stood up and moved quietly to educate. The stewardesses had been impressed. "What did you say to get her to go away?" "Oh, I simply told her 'First elegance doesn't stop in Las Vegas!'"

blonde joke #3: "blonde analysis"

"Doc, you have to help me," stated the lovable young redhead. "i hurt throughout." "What do you mean?" asked the health practitioner. She touched her right knee together with her finger. "Ow, that hurts." she touched her left cheek. "Ow, that absolutely hurts!" then she touched her shoulder. "Ow! Even that hurts!" the physician grew suspicious. "Are you an herbal blonde?" he asked. "Why, sure," she answered. "How did you already know?" "Oh, lucky guess," said the physician. "You have a sprained finger."

blonde shaggy dog story #4: "blonde cruise"

A blonde on foot by means of a tour corporation notices a sign within the window, "cruise unique - $ninety-nine!" she is going internal, arms the agent her cash, and says, "I'd like the $ninety-nine cruise unique, please." The agent grabs her, drags her into the returned room, ties her to a large internal tube, drags her out the again door and downhill to the river, pushes her in and leaves her, floating downstream. A couple of minutes later any other blonde passes by means of, sees the sign, is going inside, and will pay for the $99 cruise unique. She receives equal remedy. Drifting into more potent modern-day, she eventually catches up with the primary blonde. As they float alongside, side-through-aspect, the primary blonde asks, "do they serve refreshments on this cruise?" the other replies, "they didn't ultimate year!"

blonde funny story #5: "alligator footwear"

A younger blonde girl was using via the Florida everglades at the same time as on excursion. A she desired to take home a couple of real alligator shoes in the worst manner, but became very reluctant to pay the high charges the nearby vendors have been asking. After becoming very annoyed with the attitude of one of the shopkeepers, the younger blonde declared, "nicely then, maybe i will just go out and capture my very own alligator and get a couple of shoes at no cost!"

The shopkeeper said with a sly smile, "well little girl, why don't you pass on and supply it an attempt?"

the blonde headed off to the swamp, decided to catch an alligator. Later within the day, because the shopkeeper is riding home, he spots the equal young female status waist deep within the murky water, shotgun in hand. As he brings his car to a forestall, he sees a large nine-foot gator swimming swiftly toward her. A with lightning reflexes, the blonde takes purpose, shoots the creature and hauls it up onto the slippery financial institution. Close by have been 7 greater useless gators, all mendacity belly up. The shopkeeper stood at the bank, looking in silent amazement. The blonde struggles mightily and manages to turn the gator onto its returned. As her eyes rolling heavenward, she screams in frustration.

"Crap! This one's barefoot, too!"

blonde shaggy dog story #6: "trapped!"

A brunette, a redhead and a blonde have been trapped in a burning constructing. Firemen arrived and spread out the blanket. "Jump! It is your only danger!" they cried. The brunette jumped and graceful! The firemen yanked the blanket away. The brunette smashed into the sidewalk. "Soar!" the firemen yelled to the redhead. "Oh, no!" the redhead cried. "You will pull the blanket away!" "No, no! It is brunettes we can't stand! We love redheads!" "Properly, k," stated the redhead, as she jumped. Sleek! The firemen yanked the blanket away and she or he smashed into the sidewalk. In the end, it changed into the blonde's flip. "Bounce!" yelled the firemen. "No way!" yelled the blonde. "you'll simply pull the blanket away again!" "No, we may not. We won't pull the blanket away. We adore blondes!" the blonde changed into adamant. "Nothing you are saying will convince me! Now positioned that blanket down and step far from it..."

[thrillridesz]

win a date with kim doyoung! ▫ k.dy

in part of the resonance beach collab hosted by @amorajae​

➩ pairing: actor!doyoung x reader (f)

➩ genre: fluff, slight angst

➩ synopsis: win a date with kim doyoung! what are you waiting for? simply purchase any of the merchandise listed on our website in order to buy yourself an entry number into our raffle to win a date with the handsome kim doyoung (kim sangkyun in ‘letters to him’) at the world famous resonance beach. hurry while merchandise stock (and raffle entries) lasts!

➩ warnings: sexual innuendos, swearing

➩ inspo: win a date with tad hamilton!

➩ word count: 12.6k

➩ fic playlist: Down - A.C.E ft Grey | Thrill Ride - The Boyz | Only ONE - The Boyz | I Think I’m In Love - Kat Dahlia |  | Highway to Heaven - NCT 127 | Style - Taylor Swift | Summer - Marshmello

➩ a/n: unedited! also featuring @fuzzycurlyhairmixedmediascissors​ @timextoxhajima​ (thank you guys for being some of my most beloved mutuals here! I know I don’t say it enough but I really appreciate you guys!) + i haven't written in a while so yes, please go easy haha, feedback is always welcomed!

“You’re kidding. You’re actually kidding.”

The four of you were a comical sight to behold, squished into a tiny corner behind the main counter as you all stared wide-eyed at the webpage in front of you, the unnatural light illuminating your faces. A few patrons peered curiously at your group as they browsed through shelves of books, wondering to themselves what could be so eye-catching or important for all members of the staff to forgo their duties and cram uncomfortably close together to gawk at a tiny computer screen.

“Win a date with Kim freaking Doyoung? Like the actor?” Renjun swallowed, his eyes wild. His knuckles were nearly white from gripping on so tightly to the countertop and you briefly wondered if it was possible he might actually manage to cut off circulation to his hands if he held on any longer or if he might chip off a part of the wood instead. Maybe both. You could feel your hands growing clammy as you scrolled down the page, your heart pounding against your chest so loudly that you were almost sure that the rest crowding above you could hear it.

“Is this a scam? Are they actually offering a date with Kim Doyoung?” Alex’s question came out as a mere whisper, like she couldn’t quite believe this was real and frankly, neither could you but everything about the details of the raffle to the terms and conditions listed further reinforced its legitimacy. A girl who was eavesdropping into your conversation had also whipped out her phone, tuning into the entertainment news. Her subsequent loud gasp only served to confirm that this was indeed reality.

The award-winning actor, Kim Doyoung, who nobody in a million years would ever guess to do this, was actually offering one lucky fan a chance to go on a date with him.

Not just any date at that, the date was supposed to be at the up and coming tourist destination, Resonance beach and would include a complimentary one day and two night stay at the world famous, glamorous Neo Hotel. According to the details, all expenses would be paid for with benefits that included a first class flight and a box of Booze Soda, one of the main sponsors for this event. A quick search on social media already shows fans all over the world talking about it, many already buying his albums and fan merchandise in bulk in an attempt to increase their chances of winning.

“Seems like they really are. It’s endorsed by his company,” Dana said, squinting at the screen before shaking her head in disapproval. “This just seems to me like they’re trying to squeeze more money out of the fanbase, pretty fucking shady of them.”

She stalked away to the fiction section where she would no doubt be reading instead of doing any actual shelving as your eyebrows knitted together into a slight frown, your hand hovering tentatively over the computer mouse. Renjun patted you on the shoulder before tending to a rather disgruntled looking old man who had been waiting for someone to service him for the past five minutes while Alex only leaned in closer.

“Are you going for it?” She asked.

“I wish I could but…” You gestured vaguely at the screen, “It’s no use. I barely even have the money to spare to buy one of those expensive merchandise, let alone in bulk and we haven’t even gotten to shipping yet.” Pushing yourself away from the desk, you got to work picking up a large box of new arrivals while Alex trailed behind you.

“You have to try somehow! Even if it’s one overpriced enamel pin, you can at least have your name entered once instead of not applying at all.”

You could only smile wistfully as you weaved through the aisles of books in the tiny bookshop. Having grown up with a passion for reading, it felt natural for you to seek a part time job working around books. Even if it paid a pittance, you loved the environment here, looking forward to coming to work every other day. Not only were you spending time around books which were your number one vice, you have made like-minded and equally bookish friends along the way who you enjoy working with. The customers at bookshops were also eccentric in their own way and delightful to just get to know over the past year you’d been working here.

Being in the bookshop always did comfort you whenever you were upset, dismayed or just feeling down, such as today. In a way, you felt grateful that you found out about the event during work and not in school or at home. You wouldn’t have had your job and all these books to help distract you from the bitter feeling of being too broke to even try to apply for such a rare opportunity for a date with the one and only Kim Doyoung.

You sighed with a heavy heart as you slotted book after book into a shelf at the crime section.

Kim Doyoung, A-list actor and just the most talented man alive. You have been a fan of his for the longest time, ever since he played the suave and flirtatious pastry chef Kang Hyun in the popular romantic comedy series ‘Sugar and Spice’. The first time you saw him on television, his acting and dashing good looks had completely charmed you. The way he carried himself, the way his eyes sparkled whenever he delivered the most heart fluttering lines and the way his voice always sounded so rough yet warm even when playing the most evil villains never failed to bring a smile to your face or a shiver of fear down your spine.

A lot of people would agree that Doyoung is a stellar example of an ideal man. He was a man who could act, talk and had a heart of gold, seeing from his participation in multiple philanthropy projects and his donations and services to several charities and orphanages. Doyoung also had one of the most attractive, handsomest faces in the industry, gracing magazine covers everywhere. His dark, silky ebony hair always looked immaculate and he had the most expressive eyes you’d ever seen. Those dark orbs could be shining with tears and agony one minute and bright with joy and youthful mischief in the next and those emotions written so plainly in his eyes always struck you right to your core as you watched his films and shows.

As you tried to bury your own disappointment by preoccupying yourself with the task at hand, you couldn’t help but fervently wish that somehow you’d be able to apply and win that coveted date with Kim Doyoung even if it may seem impossible.

☀️-☀️-☀️

“You can’t do this to me. This is insane.”

The men in the room turned sharply towards Doyoung, whose face held a look of mere indifference and indignation. He had his arms folded firmly across his chest as he leaned back into his feet, his eyes dark and defiant.

The tension in the room was so thick, you could slice it with a knife. The off-white, minimalist design of the skyscraper office with its almost four walls of glass only made the whole situation seem all the more intimidating and cold as he engaged in a face off with the men across the table, the sun casting shadows on his face which made him look almost scary.

Finally, Taeil, his manager let out an exasperated grunt as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“Doyoung, this isn’t about you anymore. It’s about the goddamn company going bankrupt. We have no other choice-”

“So you decided to just go ahead and put me up for something like that? Like I’m some kind of object to be won? What are you, pimping me?” He interjected, the anger radiating off him. His jaw was set, clenched and his hands balled into fists like he always did when he got mad at something and the men in the room shifted uncomfortably. “You couldn’t find a better idea?”

“If we did, we wouldn’t be doing this now, would we?” Taeil snapped, irritated.

“There has to be some other way! I’m not an object to be won.”

“Look,” Xiaojun, the publicity head’s voice was soft, unusually gentle, like he was talking to an unreasonable, brutish child, “it’s just a date. We’re not asking you to marry for god’s sake so don’t be dramatic. Surely you can do this for the company? Just this once?”

Doyoung’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“No.”

“I told you he wasn’t going to do it.” Taeil said, rubbing at his temple to a shrinking Xiaojun who seemed to be growing smaller by the second. “We really fucked up this time.”

Doyoung shot him a sharp look.

“Why’s that?”

Taeil and Xiaojun exchanged an uncomfortable look as they shifted on their feet, looking anywhere and everywhere but him. Doyoung could feel his blood turning cold as he gripped on tightly to the arm of his chair. His words came out restrained as he gritted out, “What did you guys do?”

Taeil’s face was red with shame as he spoke in a small voice, his voice softer than a mouse.

“We um… We already got the sponsors for it and it’s already up and running.”

☀️-☀️-☀️

The sun was beating relentlessly down on your back as you pedaled along the streets, your backpack stuffed into the front basket of your bicycle.

It is a particularly hot summer’s day, so hot you could almost see the heat waves radiating in the horizon. A bead of sweat rolled down your temple and you wiped it off with a frown, feeling disgusted at how much you were sweating. It was as if someone had hosed you down. Well, maybe not that bad but still bad enough seeing as the back of your shirt would most positively be soaked by now.

As much as you loved working at the bookshop, you certainly didn’t love the journey there. During the summer when it gets too hot, the journey would usually leave you sweaty and icky by the time you arrived. During the winter when it gets too cold, you’re left freezing instead. There really aren't any two ways about it but it’s one of those things you were willing to tolerate for your job.

By the time you’d reported for work, you were predictably drenched in your own sweat and as you wandered in, you couldn’t help but bask in the cool air-conditioned environment of the store. It felt like heaven after enduring the intense heat outside and you almost let a guttural sigh out loud.

“You need a shower,” Renjun commented as you dropped your things off in the backroom, wrinkling his nose. The apron around his waist crinkled as he shifted, the precariously tall stack of books in his hands wobbling. The bookshop was relatively quiet today, seeing as most people were either off on their summer holiday or staying in the comfort of their own homes to escape the suffocating heat.

“As do you,” you rolled your eyes and he laughed. “Seriously, the weather is getting crazier by the year.”

“No kidding, I thought I’d drown in my own sweat before I even made it here.”

“That’s gross,” you stuck out your tongue in disgust while you tied on your apron. “Where’s Dana and Alex?” You took your place behind the till and drew out a black notebook from the file cabinet, doing your usual task of checking the store’s accounts. You didn’t notice the barely concealed look of excitement and anticipation in Renjun's face as you pored over the numbers, briefly glancing through them.

“Oh, they are… Somewhere.”

You looked up, eyebrows raised.

“What kind of an answer is that?”

He shrugged and it was a miracle the books he was holding onto didn’t topple over. You regarded him with mild curiosity but decided you weren’t going to question him any further. You had more pressing issues at hand like the accounts. As he wobbled off with the books, you booted up the store’s computer and flexed your fingers, getting ready to get to work with the calculations and organising of financial sheets.

The moment the computer screen crackled to life, you were immediately greeted with the words ‘Win a date with Kim Doyoung!’ in big, bold letters. The webpage was designed to look bright and celebratory but you were feeling anything but. Your grip on the computer mouse tightened as you stared at the words that seemed to taunt you, mock you. You wanted so badly to apply even just once but deep down, you knew you wouldn’t stand a chance against the large Kim Doyoung fanbase.

On social media and fansites, there was already a good number of fans posting pictures of their bulk purchases of merchandise, each buy equating to one entry into the raffle. Even if you were to enter your name in once, there was no way you were going to win anyways. Not when you’re up against fans who have tens and hundreds of entries in the raffle.

Reluctantly, you closed the window and settled down to the boring task of accounting for the shop’s sales. For the next few minutes, the thought of splurging this once on an entry for the event crossed your mind more times than you’d have liked as you punched in digits into the calculator. At one point, you even had to redo some of the accounts because of a wrong digit keyed in and you were starting to find it seriously hard to concentrate. Your pen was tapping impatiently on the table and eventually, you found that your fingers were moving on their own accord.

The event webpage showed up again and the temptation to just apply was stronger than ever even though you knew that the chances of you winning would probably be next to none.

“But, what if I just… Try?” A voice whispered at the back of your mind and you bit your bottom lip in frustration. You wanted so badly to apply but it was so expensive to do so. Buying even just a sticker set from the Kim Doyoung merchandise shop would wipe out a good part of your savings because of the exorbitant shipping costs. Were you really willing to fork out so much money just to apply?

Fortunately, your exhausting train of thought was interrupted when the door swung open and Dana and Alex entered the store with a parcel between them.

“This is for you,” Dana handed you the parcel with a knowing grin on her face and you frowned as you received it with both hands. “Open it.”

“What’s this?” You asked, picking apart the paper wrapping and when you finally realised what it was, your eyes widened till they were as large as saucers.

“Y-You guys…” You looked up to see your friends’ smiling faces despite the fatigue displayed so plainly on their faces and the sweat that lined their brows. Lifting up the porcelain mug gingerly by the handle, it took a lot of your energy not to burst out in incomprehensible squeals.

On the white surface, there was a intricately printed quote of one of Doyoung’s famous lines in the hit romantic movie, ‘Letters to him’, where he’d played the soft spoken, shy photographer heartthrob Kim Sangkyun alongside the stunning actress Im Sokyeom who’d portrayed his feisty, fiery journalist love interest Park Mihyo.

The quote was written in gold ink and in elegant calligraphy, sophisticated but not tacky. You still distinctly remember when you heard it.

“Sangkyun? What are you doing here?” Mihyo’s eyes were wide with shock, her lips slightly parted as the words came out in a gasp.

“I…” The bespectacled, red-faced photographer who clearly lacked stamina clutched at his now throbbing abdomen as he panted for air, “I needed to see you.”

His usually immaculate hair was a mess and his shirt clung to his sweaty body, so perfectly outlining the definition of those broad shoulders that reminded Mihyo of that stormy night at the secluded inn, that same silhouette overshadowing her as he leaned in to kiss her passionately. She tried to ignore the shiver that ran down her spine, the tiny skip her heart did as she looked back at him with an expressionless gaze.

“I don’t think that would be necessary.”

The pain that shone in those eyes behind those thickset glasses made her heart clench. Sangkyun’s lower lip quivered as he said softly, “Please, Mihyo.”

“Look, we-”

“‘You are my home, my safe haven and in no reality, would I ever wish to be apart from you,’” he said, his voice firm yet so full of emotion. There was an almost defiant look on his face as Mihyo dropped the coffee she was holding in her hands. Even as the liquid splattered all over her boots and stained them, she didn’t care.

“You… It was you who wrote that letter?” She asked, trembling now as her heart beat a mile a minute. This couldn’t be right, it didn’t make sense. Didn’t Jaehwan write it? Jaehwan who had told her so many times that he had poured all his feelings out into that single handwritten letter addressed to her all those years ago, who had whispered fleeting, heart fluttering sweet nothings in her ear as she consequently ‘accepted’ his feelings?

“Yes, I was the one who wrote it.” Sangkyun avowed, tears now streaming endlessly down his cheeks. “I have always loved you, Mihyo. All these years.”

Your heart still swoons at that very scene whenever you rewatch it and it has gotten to the point where you’d been able to recite the entire dialogue word for word. It was a rather embarrassing and useless talent but one you were still secretly proud of. A mug with a printed quote from one of your favourite drama scenes was a great present, better than any you could have ever asked for from your friends but a coveted chance to win a whole date with your idol, Kim Doyoung?

There were no words to describe how grateful you were.

“Thank you for this, you guys. Thank you so, so, so much,” you choke out as you pull them in for a tight hug, burying your face into Alex’s sweater. “This is the best gift you guys could have given me. I love it.”

Dana chuckles, ruffling your hair. “It’s nothing much, we just thought you deserved it.” Alex murmurs her agreement as she pats you gently on the back and Renjun shoots you a toothy grin. How did you get so lucky with friends like that?

Just then, the radio that had been very softly playing in the background caught your attention. It was tuned into a popular youth entertainment radio channel and you could vaguely hear the ongoing show’s hosts speak animatedly to millions of listeners all over the world. Today, ‘Celeb Insiders’ was on air and its hosts, Jungwoo and Krystal’s excitement seemed to be buzzing right through from their studio.

“Next on- Wait, I’m getting some exciting news here! The ‘Win a date event that has sent millions into shambles involving Kim Doyoung, who most of you may know better as the handsome, deadly Kang Joon in ‘Out for blood’ or perhaps as the charming, doting Kim Sangkyun in ‘Letters to him’, has got some updates!”

“Wait, really? Thank god, I was starting to wonder if my application got lost somehow.”

“Krystal, you applied?” Jungwoo’s tone was one of surprise and the latter laughed, her voice ringing through the studio.

“Duh, it’s Kim Doyoung. Who wouldn’t want to go on a date with a man like that? He is the standard,” she replies matter-of-factly.

“Ouch, I am not hurt as a fellow member of the male species. Anyways, we’re just getting news that the lucky fan has been revealed!”

“Please let it be me.”

“It’s not going to be you.”

“You don’t know that yet.”

“Well, I do now! Seems like it is your lucky day, entry number 148275, whoever you are because you have just won a date with the man himself, Kim Doyoung!”

“Whoever it is, lucky them,” you sighed, smiling softly and not noticing how still your friends have become. It seemed as if they were almost frozen and it took you a good few seconds to realise they hadn’t moved. “Guys?”

Alex turned to you, her eyes wide as saucers and her mouth hanging open.

“That’s your entry number, y/n.”

☀️-☀️-☀️

Doyoung wanted nothing more than to be out of this situation that he had found himself in.

Gritting his teeth as the personal stylist circled around him and tutted under his breath for the nth time, he could see his expression in the mirror getting darker by the minute. There were dark circles starting to form under his eyes, no thanks to jet lag and a lack of sleep following the dreaded date that he had wanted no part in and his limbs were starting to cramp from standing for so long. The personal stylist, whose name he’d learned was Johnny, was clearly taking his own sweet time with no regards whatsoever to the fate of his numb legs.

“How much longer?” He asked, plastering a gentle smile onto his face, like he’d done so many times in and out of movie sets. Johnny peered at him from over his gold-rimmed glasses and shrugged nonchalantly in a way that meant he had no qualms of speeding up. Doyoung resisted the urge to deck him.

“I don’t know. I’ve got so many ideas and most of them don’t fit you all that well. Somehow, you are putting some sort of invisible dent on my creative energy. It’s really not very productive.”

Doyoung stared at him, expressionless. How was any of this supposed to be his fault? He opened his mouth to retort but thought better of it and kept silent, letting his annoyance simmer. As much as this whole situation was maddening, starting a fight with anyone wouldn’t be good. Not even Johnny, the annoying, fickle personal stylist. He couldn’t risk it not just for his reputation, but also for his tired self.

He was too tired to have to deal with anything more than he’d been given right now.

As much as Doyoung appreciated his manager and management team, they had a knack for doing things without first telling him. Granted, other celebrities had pulled a similar stunt before including his rivals but it never occurred to him that one day, he would be doing the same. It was something he’d never have agreed to. Willingly.

After what felt like ages and hundreds of suits and tuxedos, Johnny the personal stylist had eventually decided on an outfit that Doyoung had remembered being one of the first few he’d been asked to try on. He tried not to think about the hours of sleep he’d missed out on or possible time he could have had to escape as he wandered out of the shop, disoriented by the now dark sky outside.

He must have been in there longer than he’d imagined.

As Doyoung made his way back to his hotel, he couldn’t help but feel an odd sense of tranquility. The night breeze was cool and carried with it the scent of the ocean, a welcomed change from the smell of vehicle fumes in the big city. Twinkling stars dotted the skies and nature was everywhere - from the palm trees along the streets, the sandy beaches, to the rolling hills from a distance away. Small businesses were thriving on this beach island, selling things that would never sell well where he came from like handmade seashell necklaces or indigenous rocks and it was heartening to see how the locals were so… happy.

The streets were by no means quiet and here at the island where the world famous Resonance beach resort had very strategically chosen to settle in, the place was teeming with tourists from all over the world. They chatted, ate and laughed as they strolled along the streets in their sundresses and khaki shorts, enjoyed delicious seafood meals with drinks in the many bistros and restaurants and did basic tourist things. Everyone was in their own world, just enjoying being on holiday and it was this engrossment in their own world that Doyoung appreciated and valued.

If there was any silver lining to this whole thing, this would be it.

Here, he could roam the island without wearing his almost mandatory and necessary cap, sunglasses or face mask since no one would pay him any attention. He could wander about freely, do anything he wanted. Doyoung couldn’t remember a time where he’d had such freedom. It felt like a long time ago when he had just been an aspiring young teenager with ambitions greater than he had eventually realised he could handle. Sure, a few curious glances were shot his way every now and then but for the most part, people knew their boundaries which couldn’t be said for the same back home.

With fame, came its price.

As a relatively attractive actor whose company somehow always tries to book for romance films or drama series, it didn’t take long for his fanbase to grow and expand, for the ‘thirst tweets’ to start streaming in or for the obsessive fan stories he’d heard so much about from his seniors to start happening to him as well.

His jaw ticked as he recalled how a crazed fan had once accosted him at the supermarket once. The kid had stalked him all around the place, grabbing whatever he did and it’d creeped him out. There was once he had made a mistake of replying to a fan’s tweet of a drama he had starred in, only to get bombarded by hundreds and thousands of replies, private messages and a blooming rumour that thankfully, had been quickly nipped in the bud before it could get out of control.

Doyoung adored his fans, he really did. There were the sweet ones who would write letters to him voicing their admiration for his talents and those who really supported his craft but there were also tons of them who he’d think twice before interacting with. He tried to not to think which of these two categories the fan he would be spending his time here in this island would classify under.

It was close to 10 when he’d made it back to the Neo hotel, a sprawling resort with some of the most beautiful, intricate architecture he ever had the privilege of staying in. The lobby itself was grand, with a huge crystal chandelier hanging from above and a smooth marble floor inlay a very detailed drawing of the island itself made up entirely of rare gems and rocks. Everything about the place screamed classy and luxurious, it was thus no surprise that this hotel was listed as one of the world’s best.

As Doyoung waited for the elevator, he noticed from the corner of his eye that two ladies were lingering nearby, staring at him and giggling to one another. Out of reflex, he shot them a polite smile to which one of them jumped. They were dressed in formal attire with name tags, there was no doubt they’d work here at the hotel.

He watched as the number on the elevator crawled downwards, wishing it’d hurry up. He could feel his eyelids slipping shut and his limbs were beginning to feel like lead and there was nothing more that he wanted than to hop into bed. Suddenly, he felt someone tapping his back.

Swivelling around, Doyoung turned to look at the ladies from earlier. Their cheeks were tinted red with nervousness and even he could feel their apprehension. Despite his fatigue, he grinned down at them.

“Can I help you?”

The shorter of the two, a pretty brunette with a pert little nose squeaked in response but her friend was much bolder.

“Are you Kim Doyoung?”

“Yes, I am. How can I help?” The smile was frozen on his face. The elevator arrived with a ding.

“We love your movies and works, my friend Yujeong and I, Winter.” She beamed and her friend nodded enthusiastically. The elevator door opened and the few curious onlookers wandered in. Doyoung relaxed, his smile growing slightly wider.

“Ah, thank you so much. That means a lot to me.” The ladies giggled and the one called Yujeong continued, blushing profusely, “You look so unbelievably handsome in real life. Better than on television.”

Doyoung stiffened. “That is very kind of you to say.”

“You were in that romcom right? ‘Fight or flight’ or something?” Winter interjected, excitement radiating off her. Before Doyoung could reply, she went off, biting her lips ever so slightly in a way that was supposedly meant to be seductive, “You looked really hot there. Did you have to diet and gym a lot to look that way? Honestly, you caught my eye for a great part of the movie.”

The elevator door was beginning to close. Doyoung wanted so fervently to make a dash for it.

“Thanks. Yeah, I did.”

“There was that drama you acted in too right? ‘Letters to you’? I remember you as that really handsome reporter Kim Sanghyun.” Yujeong asked, her eyes big with wonder. “You looked super cute there, I thought the glasses were a nice touch.”

“I…” Doyoung trailed off, his smile beginning to slip from his face and it was getting harder to keep it there by the millisecond. “Thanks.”

“Could we take a picture?”

I’m tired.

“Yeah, sure.”

By the time Doyoung had stumbled into his room, showered and ordered room service, it was already nearing midnight. Clad in only a pair of his most comfortable gray sweats, he climbed into bed and sunk into the soft sheets, a subconscious moan escaping his lips at the sheer comfort of it. The television was on but it was all but white noise as he scrolled through his phone and checked on the unread messages that he had that day.

( 3 unread messages from Sokyeom (Work) )

hey doyoungie, wanna grab dinner sometime? :))

i’ve been kinda lonely and i’m not filming these days so i was thinking if we should go get a drink or something?

you playing hard to get? you are such a tease~ ;0

Doyoung’s lips pressed into a thin line as his thumb hovered above the keyboard. She needed to stop calling him that. He had also yet to answer her insistent invitations for dinner. He’d given up after the third rejection and promptly let everything go to voicemail or simply his inbox. For a person who plays a very bright, intelligent journalist onscreen, the actress certainly cannot read a hint.

Tossing his phone aside, Doyoung held his forearm to his head as he stared up at the ceiling above him. He tried his best not to ponder over tomorrow’s meeting with his fan. He had never seen this fan, never been provided a visual reference as to how he or she might look like. Taeil had ensured that, wanting instead to keep an element of surprise.

Doyoung sighed deeply, feeling a wave of resignation, sadness and helplessness engulf him and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach and the way his heart feels so tight and empty like it has always had for the longest time.

He found he cannot recall the last time he’d ever truly felt like himself. It seemed as if he was nothing if not for his looks.

☀️-☀️-☀️

Your heart was beating furiously and your hands were almost trembling as you checked your own reflection on the mirror for what seemed like the thousandth time.

The light pearl eyeshadow you had very shakily applied still seemed a tad too faded under the light even though it felt like you had an ungodly number of layers on already and you sighed, both in frustration and nervousness. Your hair was sticking out all over the place, with a particular stray lock of hair that kept escaping the bun you’d swept your hair up in while you pondered over the decision to put on a jasmine scented perfume earlier. Was that a good idea or should you have instead gone with the citrus one that Dana and Alex recommended?

You fell helplessly back onto the luxurious comforter. The softness of the bed still felt new, foreign and was a strange yet welcomed change from the lumpy mattress you had back home. On a bed like this, you could fall asleep straight away but the nerves for the impending dinner tonight kept you alert. Heavens, sometimes you wondered if you were already asleep and this whole experience was just a hyper realistic lucid dream you were having.

The past few days had passed by in a complete blur.

First came the media. Within hours after the announcement of the lucky fan who’d won the much coveted date with Kim Doyoung, gossip columns and entertainment reporters had somehow managed to locate and consequently flooded your email with requests for interviews. It was all over the radio and news sites and before long, everyone in your family including your school had found out.

Questions after questions were directed to you, too many to keep up with and some of which you didn’t even have the answers to. It was like your life had been turned upside down within a matter of mere hours, being thrust into the spotlight all of a sudden, unprepared and thoroughly confused.

What made the entire situation feel even more absurd was when you’d received the online confirmation email for your first class flight ticket and all expenses paid for trip details to Resonance Beach. The email was very lavishly furnished with fancy lettering and a short video attached, showcasing an extremely enticing display of Resonance Beach from its golden shores and crystalline blue sea to the delicious local fare offered and bustling nightlife.

You won’t deny - you have had to pinch yourself several times before reality really sunk in.

Within a couple of days, you found yourself en route, thousands of feet in the air in a sleek aircraft. Not even in your wildest dreams would you have thought you would one day be served perfectly poached butter lobster and the sweetest, juiciest sparkling cider you’d ever had the privilege to taste on a italian leather airplane seat or be able to sit in front of a telescreen with every movie and film imaginable available for you to watch. It certainly made a very jarring contrast to your usual homemade cucumber sandwich for lunch, eaten in the confines of the stuffy bookstore or the limited television channels available back home, so limited nobody ever watches television anymore.

Everything felt utterly dreamlike, from the exceptional service on the first class flight you’d never have been able to afford to the complimentary limousine ride to your five star accommodation. Your suite itself was another thing to behold and you had been initially afraid to touch anything for fear of making even the tiniest scratch on the exquisite furniture.

Blowing a raspberry, you tried not to look at the time. You weren’t sure what time it was already but something told you that it was happening soon.

Your gut churned uncomfortably and you flipped over, screaming softly into the pillow. Excitement and fear intermingled was coursing through your veins and a shiver ran down your spine at the thought of seeing Doyoung soon. This was the actor you had always looked up to, whose works you have always thoroughly enjoyed and memorised almost every single line to. Just a week ago, he was an unreachable bright spark in the distant sky, so blindingly enchanting and bright, so far away that you’d never reach him and there was nothing you could do but stare in awe from afar. Yet now, he was going to be right before you, in the flesh.

You resisted the urge to pinch yourself again.

At that moment, there was a gentle knock on the huge, mahogany door of your suite.

☀️-☀️-☀️

Doyoung shifted uncomfortably as he stood waiting outside the imposing suite door.

The crisp jet black suit that Johnny had chosen for him fitted him perfectly and accentuated his slim, lean figure, the polished golden cufflinks glinting under the glow of the light along the hallway. The white dress shirt he wore under the ‘expensive, posh french velvet’ (or so he’d been told a little over fifty times by Johnny) black jacket was neatly ironed and a few buttons at the top had been left purposefully unbuttoned to expose his collarbone which he wasn’t sure he was entirely comfortable with.

His stylists had truly gone all out with this, Doyoung didn’t even think they had been so invested back when he attended his first Grand Bell Awards. His dark hair was perfectly coiffed and they had chosen for him a well fitting musky cologne for the occasion and they had even made sure to pay attention to his nails. The company must be doing financially worse than he’d thought.

Doyoung could hear a faint crash from inside the suite and he felt his heart grow heavier by the second. In a way, he felt like a lamb perfectly dressed for slaughter or perhaps to be less dramatic, he felt like an escort. He had seen how some buy hundreds of merchandise in order to win and he’d realised to his horror that some of these ‘fans’ had been regularly stalking him at certain points. He could only pray that whoever stood on the other side of the door was nothing like that.

He recalled how in his early days, his manager had forced him to pour alcohol and make merry with some of the older female shareholders of the company and a lump began to form on his throat.

“Please not that either,” he thought desperately.

Suddenly, the door opened with a click and for a moment, he found himself staring at no one in particular until his gaze drifted downwards to see a shy looking girl standing before him.

Oh, he was not expecting this.

She had the most beautiful pair of eyes he’d ever seen, bright and sparkling. There was something about that tugged at his heartstrings, drawing him deeper into their depths. Her lips were perfectly shaped, not too plump and her makeup, subtle and classy. The lilac blue dress she wore clung softly to her curves, accentuating but not in an overtly sexual but rather sensual way the outline of her lush body. Around her neck hung a tiny silver necklace, resting comfortably on her chest, shining under the light.

Realising quickly that he was staring, Doyoung cleared his throat.

“Hey, so you… um, you ready to go?”

The girl merely stared back at him, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted like in a trance. When she didn’t reply, he smiled awkwardly to which she cracked the slightest of the most charming smiles he’d ever seen. Doyoung tried to ignore the tingle in his heart.

“Right, I guess-”

“Yeah! Yeah, I-I am ready to go! L-L-Let’s go!” She suddenly blurted out, catching him off guard. Her face had gone a shade darker and she clapped her hand over her mouth, regret dawning upon her. Doyoung quickly smiled and said, “Great, let’s go then.”

☀️-☀️-☀️

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

You cursed yourself as you walked next to Doyoung. How did you already manage to make a fool of yourself? You’d seen the way his eyes had widened at your sudden, aggressive, uncouth outburst and it wouldn’t be a surprise to you if he thought you were weird. Your face felt hot, like it was burning but there was nothing you could do about it, nothing you could do to soothe the rapid beating of your heart except pray that you wouldn’t mess it up again.

As the two of you walked side by side, you could help but sneak a glance at him every now and then. He was tall, taller than you’d envisioned him to be. In person, there was still that unreachable, untouchable, regal vibe that he had and just by walking next to him, you almost felt as if you weren’t worthy to even be this near him. You could tell his clothes were branded, expensive but heavens, everything about him screamed expensive.

His cologne was also not overwhelming but rather nice. You had been on dates whereby the boys you were out with had put on an obscene amount of cologne that threatened to suffocate you and how you made out of the dates unscathed was always a mystery to you. Doyoung was a nice change.

As the two of you entered the lift, the awkwardness between the two of you became more apparent in the confined space. You played with your fingers as you stood next to him, turning ever so slightly to look at him. Sensing your gaze on him, he turned ever so slightly and a smile tugged at his lips.

You felt your heart flutter as you snapped your head back, face now positively burning. There it was, that charming smile you’d seen so many times on television. Yet somehow…

The fluttery feeling in your heart subsided. Maybe it was just a figment of your imagination but you thought you detected something guarded behind that smile. It was a beautiful one, stunning and heart achingly endearing but even as he did, the smile never did properly reach his eyes. They had held a certain invisible iciness to them that you didn’t quite know what to make off.

You shook the thought out of your mind, you were probably overthinking it out of nerves.

When the two of you stepped out of the hotel, there was a large, sleek black limousine waiting with a chauffeur who tipped his hat good naturedly at you, to which you returned with a slight nod of your own. Doyoung trotted ahead of you, pulling open the limousine door.

“After you?”

You thought your heart might burst. “Thank you,” you said shyly, making your way in.

As the limousine rolled off the curb and towards the restaurant that Doyoung’s company had booked for their dinner date, the ride was quiet save for the low rumbling of the limousine’s engine and the sounds of traffic and nightlife outside. You peered outside the window in wonder and awe at the hustle and bustle of the beach town. Vendors were selling everything from little beach trinkets to treats like coconut ice cream served in a coconut shell and friends and families on vacation were out, clad in sandals and romping around the place, laughing to one another. Lanterns painted with orange suns and blue waves were lit along the streets, lending the place an almost warm, otherworldly glow.

You wished Renjun, Alex and Dana would have come here with you. You knew that Renjun would have loved the musical culture here as the limousine drove past a young busker who was belting out an acoustic, banjo version of Lil Nas X’s ‘Old Town Road’. The numerous traditional sweet shops selling the most delectable sea salt candies and coconut toffees that the beach town was famous for would have thrilled Dana. Alex would have simply adored the street art that almost quite literally lit up the town, with its bold colours and intricate illustrations. You made a mental note to purchase some souvenirs if you could.

“So, your name is y/n?”

At Doyoung’s voice, you turned to him quickly and a feeling of sheepishness came over you. Suddenly, you became aware of just how close you two were seated in the vehicle.

“Yeah, how did you know?” You asked softly and Doyoung gave you a weird look. “My manager mentioned it to me.”

Right, of course.

Perhaps you should have just kept your mouth shut.

“How are you finding Resonance Beach so far?” he probed and it was impossible to not stay silent.

“It’s pretty,” your face lit up with a genuine smile despite your embarrassment, “It’s really picturesque and I’ve never been to a beach town like this. The culture here seems so rich, it’s amazing.”

Doyoung simply nodded in agreement, “It really is. Have you really never been to a beach town?”

“No, I’ve actually never been out of the country.”

“Oh,” a look of surprise flashes in his eyes, “I see… That’s great too. No place better than home, huh?” His shoulders were relaxed now, less stiff than they were before.

“I love where I come from but this place,” you gesture outside, “is beautiful too. I just wish Renjun, Alex and Dana could have been here.”

“...Who?”

“Oh! I’m so sorry, they’re my friends. We work at our town’s book shop together but we’ve all known each other since we were kids.” You beamed at him, not noticing the way he was staring at you. “Actually, I have them to thank for this, you know, being here in the first place?”

Doyoung couldn’t help but probe, “Why’s that?”

“This might sound really complicated but they were the ones who entered my name into that ‘win a…’” you trailed off and he nodded. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Well, yeah. They knew how much I really wanted to meet you - and it’s so crazy saying this since you’re right here next to me - so they got together and bought me an entry.”

He was silent for a moment before he replied, “I see. They sound like great friends.”

You agreed enthusiastically. “They are the best friends I could ever ask for! I love them so much.”

Doyoung wondered briefly when was the last time he’d ever felt that way about any of his friends. Since he had become famous, the texts and calls got less and less frequent until they’d completely disappeared. He missed them desperately but he knew deep down, they were now unsalvageable friendships, torn apart by too much distance. These days, the only friends he got were ones he also shared a working relationship with such as his co-stars in the films and series he’d been a part of.

There was something about you, a certain infectious energy to you that he couldn’t quite pinpoint but it was warm, inviting. While others had aggressively bought entry tickets to the raffle, you had won entirely out of sheer, dumb luck. What were the chances? Doyoung made a mental note to thank god for this gift presented to him. Maybe sitting through the whole date wouldn’t be that bad.

When the limousine finally arrived at the restaurant, you were dumbstruck to find yourself staring up at a magnificent looking place, furnished with the prettiest and most elegant rose vines on its walls and pillars. Outside the restaurant, there was a huge stone fountain that looked as if it was carved out by the gods themselves based on how beautiful it was and accompanied with it, was a sprawling garden full of beautiful tropical flowers and trees.

Soft jazz music floated out onto the veranda as the hostess at the door greeted the two of you with a big smile, ushering the two of you into the place. Inside, the place looked even more upscale with its vintage, late 1940s furniture which despite its old fashioned look, did not look even the least bit drabby rather it gave the place a very sophisticated look.

There was a warm glow provided by the many candles lit on the tables, arranged and furnished with tiny olive wreaths and as someone who’d never had a meal in a place as fancy and expensive as such, you did not feel the least bit intimidated or uncomfortable. If anything, the place felt particularly homely as were the staff who shot you friendly smiles as you passed them. There were other couples, families all dining in the restaurant but there wasn’t a lot of talking, only the same smooth jazz music played by a band on the mini stage to the right of the room.

As the two of you took your seats, you picked up the menu, letting your eyes sweep over the words.

“Have you decided what you would like to order?” Doyoung asked and you looked up at him, only to get a smattering of butterflies in your stomach, so intense you almost gasped.

From the dim lighting to the soft, orangey glow of the candle between the two of you, his eyes looked like they held the fiery flames themself, the ember burning brightly in those dark depths. The shadow casted highlighted his sharp features, from his defined jawline to his cheekbones, forming a beautiful chiaroscuro on his face. You could feel your heart doing flips beneath your chest and somehow, it started getting harder to articulate actual words so you just sat there, staring at him mutely.

“Y/n?” He frowned.

“I-I… Um, I…”

“Are you okay?” His expression morphed into one of concern and before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “How do you look that good so effortlessly?”

He blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“I… I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from. I-I just… You look even better in real life.” You mumbled under your breath, your face flaming at this point.

Stop talking, stop talking, stop talking. If there was an award for cringiest fan ever, you’d win hands down.

☀️-☀️-☀️

Doyoung tried not to let the smile he had on his face slip at your comment. He gripped tighter onto his menu, trying not to brood on the sense of disappointment that poked at him deep down.

Did you only like him for his appearance? Like everyone else?

“Maybe it’s just a genuine compliment,” a voice spoke softly at the back of his head but the dread that filled his heart made it difficult to put on a more natural smile than he was normally great at plastering on.

“Thank you,” he replied simply, wincing at the slight edge of his voice. Too much?

You inched back into your seat, looking deflated and a part of him wished he hadn’t been so cold or curt. The little pout as you stuck out your lower lip made you look even more adorable than you did before and he almost wanted to reach across to hold your hand but he held back.

That wouldn’t be professional behaviour.

“I don’t know what I’m going to get,” you said quietly, furrowing your brows as you chewed on your lower lip, assessing the menu. Doyoung tried not to let his gaze drift downwards.

“Really? I’ve seen stellar reviews for this place, we’re pretty spoiled for choice,” he flashed a grin, the ones he’d usually save for the cameras as he leaned in. He didn’t seem to notice the hitch in your breath as he did as he studied the menu with you.

“French bouillabaisse with a crispy baguette… What do you think?” He asked and you simply nodded dumbly, a blank look in your eyes. It occurred to him how close he’d leaned in as he found himself looking into your eyes and close enough to take a whiff of your perfume.

Jasmine. Subtle, gentle and sweet.

For a moment, he was stunned until a clatter of a fork nearby brought him back to reality and immediately, he withdrew, feeling embarrassed. As he did, it was as if a bubble had burst and you jolted slightly before looking up at him, eyes wide.

You opened your mouth to speak but before you could, a waiter appeared before your table, smiling warmly. “Good evening, my name is Jisung and I will be your server tonight. Are you guys ready to order?”

“Well, um, thank you” Doyoung cleared his throat which had suddenly seemed to close up on him. “I will have the uh, rock shrimp ravioli with truffle pasta and sautéed wild mushrooms.”

“Alright,” Jisung jotted down the order merrily before turning to you, “And for the lady?”

You stared at him like a deer in headlights. “I… I, um… I’ll just have the French bou… boey…”

“Bouillabaisse?” Jisung prompted, a serene smile still on his face.

“Y-Yeah…” you struggled to find the right words to say before mumbling, “... Sorry.”

“Can I get the two of you anything to drink?”

“We could try a Sauvignon Blanc-” Doyoung began about the same time as you said, “I think I’ll just have tap-”

The two of you looked at each other, unsure of what to say and uncomfortable at the awful timing. Thankfully, Jisung seemed to have been less than perturbed by the highly awkward exchange in front of him.

“Sorry miss, I’m afraid we don’t serve tap water here. We have only oxygenated water or sparkling. Would you like that? Or would you like to go ahead and order a Sauvignon Blanc, sir?”

Doyoung let his eyes linger at you for a moment before he turned to Jisung.

“I think we’ll just both have oxygenated water, thank you.”

“Coming right up.” With that, the two of you are left alone once again.

☀️-☀️-☀️

For a hot minute, neither of you attempted to make conversation as an unsettling silence befell the table. You were staring intently at the cutlery and plates before you, too scared to look up for fear of making yet another blunder or seeing the look on Doyoung’s face which would no doubt be one of disgust or worse, sympathy.

What were you thinking in the first place with tap water?

“So, do you have any favourite foods?” He asked suddenly and you looked up sharply to see him looking at you with interest, his hands interlaced in front of him. Clearly, the silence had probably been too much for him and deep down, you were relieved that he’d started talking first because you probably never would have the courage to.

“Hm, I do like a lot of foods,” you started, “But I love cucumber sandwiches and chocolate cake.”

He quirked an eyebrow questioningly, “Cucumber sandwiches huh?”

“Yeah, have you ever had them?”

He smiled tightly, “Ah, I don’t really like cucumbers. I do like pickles though.”

“Oh, why’s that?” Your eyes widened as you moved in closer.

It was one thing to not like cucumbers but to hate them while liking pickles? Your interest was piqued.

Doyoung’s eyes followed your movement and his shoulders stiffened as he replied, “U-Um, I don’t know honestly. I just like them? The sourness, the tanginess and the crunch is what makes it really enjoyable to me.”

You nodded thoughtfully and for a moment, the two of you sat again in awkward silence, neither of you knowing what to say exactly.

You could feel your heart racing as you toyed with your finger and as you took the chance to look around you, you couldn’t help but feel extremely out of place.

Everyone here looked as if they belonged, with their posh appearances and dignified ways unlike you. The clothes they wore looked like they’d cost an entire year of your salary from your part time job at the bookstore, with its expensive cutting and luxurious feel. The way they picked up their knife and fork felt like you were a peasant eating in a room full of royals. Even the way they talked made you feel uncomfortably distinguished from them and not in a good way.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you stared at your hands on your lap. Was it a mistake to come here after all?

☀️-☀️-☀️

She’s uncomfortable.

Doyoung thought as he watched you fidget ever so slightly. He could see your eyes darting around the restaurant as you seemed to shrink deeper into your seat, your shoulders caving in. In a way, your demeanor reminded him of a terrified kitten. Even after the food had arrived, the conversation between the two of you was mostly small talk with a heavy air of awkwardness. You’d picked at your food, not out of pickiness but rather out of genuine wonderment. With each bite you took, you would chew slowly, frowning slightly but that frown would always disappear whenever the two of you made eye contact.

“How’s the food?” He asked as he sipped at his water.

You looked up as if surprised, knife and fork in hand, tearing apart the squid on your plate. You shot him a smile that seemed slightly forced.

“I-It’s delicious.”

Doyoung didn’t know why but seeing you like this confused him, a sense of guilt and mild annoyance at himself tugging at his heart.

Did he make a mistake choosing such an upscale restaurant like this one? Whenever he brought his dates to places like these, they all seemed to love it so why didn’t you?

“Let’s go somewhere else.” He blurted out and you looked at him with wide eyes. “What?”

As he took another sip of his wine, he looked over to the entrance of the restaurant where he could see a small crowd of paparazzi gathered outside, no doubt waiting for the two of you to get out. He grimaced before he caught sight of a back door at the back of the restaurant.

Perfect.

Signalling for the waiter, he hurriedly paid for the check before he gestured for you to get up.

“We’re leaving.”

“Wait, what? B-But why?”

“It’s clear neither of us really like it here, so there’s no point staying, is it? We’re going somewhere else, somewhere better.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere. Except here.”

Maybe he’d imagined it but when he saw the brief look of relief that flashed in your eyes, he couldn’t help but feel a sort of lightness in his heart and a smile began to form on his lips.

But then when he reached out to hold your hand, Doyoung felt a jolt of electricity run through his body. Then there was warmth, a sort of gentle, encompassing warmth that made his heart leap and as he saw the beam on your face, he could feel his face heating up.

“Right, um, let’s go.”

When the two of you made it through the back door and away from the prying paparazzi, he realised he hadn’t felt this carefree and reckless in a long time.

☀️-☀️-☀️

The slight breeze in the air was tinged with just a touch of the scent of the salty seawater by the shore, a welcome from the stuffiness of the restaurant from earlier. Taking a deep breath, the both of you could hardly believe the sight that the two of you were greeted with.

The back door had opened to a glorious, secluded view of the night ocean, with the dark waters crashing gently in waves while the full moon and several sparkling stars hung in the navy sky. This was the quiet part of the beach that no one would have thought twice about in the morning but utterly transformed into a sort of breathtaking secret spot by the night.

Resonance beach was a sight to behold, yes but this was a different type of beauty it now possessed. In most stock photographs or pictures from travel pamphlets, the tourist destination was depicted as a sunny beach teeming with tourists, full of colour and summer fun. However, this was different.

In the moonlight, the golden sand seemed almost luminescent like individual grains of shiny, white gold. The sounds of the ocean waves gently crashing against the shore also gave a sort of calming aura to it and there was that strange feeling of being transported to another world entirely for this view and this vibe was so completely different to the glitz and glamour of the restaurant they had just escaped or the liveliness of a tourist destination.

It felt like walking into a universe with just the two of you through a magical backdoor. And the only reasonable thought that simultaneously crossed both of your minds was to run right towards it.

It felt like a sort of syncing of minds, an unspoken shared thought as you ran with Doyoung, his hand holding onto yours. Looking up, you could see that Doyoung was staring at something behind the two of you, his lips breaking into a wide grin that brought a certain lightness to his features. You turned back to see what he was looking at.You could see the paparazzi bursting through the backdoor, their expressions a mix of confusion and frustration as their eyes searched the area for the two of you, too preoccupied to even begin appreciating the beauty of the night view.

You felt a laugh begin to bubble up in your chest. There was something so lawless and liberating about this and as you did, you could sense Doyoung’s eyes on you. You shifted your gaze to meet his and it was like time stood still as the two of you locked eyes. For a moment, it felt like just the two of you existed in this world, running together endlessly but never feeling tired towards something that had something greater in store for the both of you.

☀️-☀️-☀️

It wasn’t long before the two of you finally settled at a distant, secluded part of the beach. Here, it was quiet and serene, a perfect hideout far from prying eyes.

As the two of you tried to catch your breaths, Doyoung noticed that his shirt had become rumpled and wrinkled in the run and one of the buttons of his shirt had even dropped off in the process. A thin sheen of sweat covered his temple and brusquely, he ran a hand through his hair which was no longer as kempt as it was.

God, that felt great. But what about y/n? Is she alright?

Doyoung turned to you, with the question at the tip of his tongue but when his sights landed on you, it felt as if the wind had been knocked right out of him.

Under the silvery lighting, you seemed almost ethereal. The dress you were wearing was pressed against your frame as it flapped around your ankles in the night breeze, the blue almost glowing in the dimness. Your hair had come undone as well and the loose strands were framing your face in a way that only made you seem more enchanting than before. Your eyes reflected the starry night sky, sparkling with such brightness that Doyoung felt a tightening feeling in his chest.

“Doyoung?”

He blinked as he suddenly became aware of the sound of your voice calling out to him. Swallowing, he tried to ignore the manic pounding in his chest as he smiled shakily at you, trying to stay composed.

“You okay?”

You smiled and he felt his heart skip a beat, “Yeah, I just… I just need to catch some air.”

Once the two of you had come down from your runners’ high with a bottle of water each from a nearby vendor, the two of you settled on the shore near the water, both pairs of shoes placed a distance away as the both of you dipped your toes into the cold seawater.

“So why did you do this?” You asked while the two of you stared out into the ocean horizon.

“Do what?”

“This,” you gestured vaguely, “whole ‘win a date’ thing.”

Doyoung chuckled, feeling amused at your question yet strangely relieved, “I don’t seem like the type to do this?”

“Well… Yes,” you said but quickly added, a flustered look on your face, “It’s not a bad thing! It just… it doesn’t seem like your style to do stuff like that. I mean, I know you appreciate your fans but-”

He held up a hand, holding back a laugh. “Don’t worry, I get it.”

“You do?” You tilted your head, looking at him quizzically.

How cute.

“Yeah. My manager had to for-” he stopped himself, casting you a guilty look which you didn’t notice, “My manager signed me up for this before I even got the chance to know the details of this whole thing.”

“Why’s that?”

Doyoung hesitated for a second before the words came tumbling out of his mouth, “The company isn’t doing so well.”

He knew he wasn’t supposed to divulge this information but for some reasons, he felt comfortable enough that it just came out before he even knew it.

“Isn’t doing so well? What do you mean?” You asked, alarmed.

Doyoung stared out wistfully at the ocean, shaking his head. “The company’s doing poorly financially, which is why we had to do this. They needed to push me into the spotlight to keep the place afloat. They needed me to get… profits.” He spat out the last word like it left a disgusting taste in his mouth.

“I… I didn’t know.”

“It’s fine,” he said softly, “I didn’t expect you to. I’ve never really told anyone about it.”

“You’re more than just… profits,” you whispered and he smiled sadly. “I like to think that too. I know they try really hard and they have good intentions at heart but… but when they pull things like this on me, I can’t help but feel so… small. I’m grateful to them, they’ve made me into the person I am today but I can’t help but feel like I’m more object than I am human in their eyes… To everyone.”

There was a moment of silence before you said, “You’re not who you think you are. You are so much more than money, you’re not an object.”

Doyoung turned to you, eyes unreadable. “What am I then to you?”

You locked eyes with him, ignoring the knotting feeling in your stomach. You always were a nervous wreck in front of people, especially Kim Doyoung of all people but you knew you needed to say this.

“You are the most stunning…”

The faint smile on Doyoung’s face wavered ever so slightly, a tinge of disappointment stabbing at his heart.

It seemed as if he was nothing if not for his looks.

“You are the most stunningly talented person I’ve ever had the privilege of meeting. I know you may not believe it but I hope you know that fans like myself have always found you to be so much more than just Doyoung. Please don’t refer to yourself as… as just profits because that is not what you are. You are so unbelievably good at what you do and your fans have never once thought otherwise. We love you for you, for your personality and for your artistry.”

Doyoung stared at you, seemingly blank and at a loss of words when you leaned forward, locking eyes with him and your hands gingerly covering his own as the seawater lapped gently between your toes.

“You may not know it but your work has brought so much joy to the community. Your work isn’t simply work, it’s art. It’s meaningful, impactful. I hope I… I hope I don’t sound dramatic or over the top but… you are so, so much more than just an actor or an artist. You are you, Doyoung and that alone is what matters to all of us.”

For a moment, he didn’t reply. Under the moonlight, it was a little difficult to read his expression. The chiaroscuro reflected against his features shaded much of his face, only outlining the sharpness of certain features. Quickly, you felt yourself begin to clam up. You tore your gaze away from him, wishing the sand would just swallow you up whole.

“I… I’m sorry that was s-so cheesy, I-”

“No. Don’t apologise.”

You snapped your head up to look at him and felt your breath hitch. He’d moved out of the shadow and you could see now that there was such emotion in his eyes that you could feel your heart begin to clench. You’d seen this in countless of his dramas but none so raw like such. It felt almost… intimate. You couldn’t help but stare into them, transfixed and feeling the strong emotions bubble up within you as well.

Was that relief you saw in his eyes?

“Y/n, I-”

“There you are! You little rascal!”

The two of you turned, shocked. Taeil stood before the two of you, arms akimbo as he glared at Doyoung who scowled.

“How the hell did you find me?”

“I have my ways. I can’t believe you just ran away like that!”

“Well, I did so you best believe it.”

“Don’t get smart with me, mister.” At that moment, Taeil seemed to notice your presence, a look of surprise registering on his face before he covered it up with a warm smile. “Miss y/n?”

You nodded shyly, not noticing the look of irritation on Doyoung’s face.

“Nice to meet you! I’m Moon Taeil, Doyoung’s manager. Well, it’s pretty late. Why don’t Doyoung and I give you a lift back to your hotel?”

☀️-☀️-☀️

The drive home was awkward to say the least and as the two of you sat side by side in the car, you wondered what Doyoung was about to say before he’d been interrupted by his manager. You watched as the beach town zoomed by you, a flurry of lights and people. It was difficult to strike up a conversation with Taeil talking throughout the drive and you couldn’t help but sneak a glance at Doyoung.

Turning slightly, you could see that he was looking out the window, his face an expression of serenity and grace. As if he could sense your gaze on him, Doyoung turned and you quickly looked away, your face burning up.

As the car sidled up in front of the hotel entrance, you were preparing to leave when Taeil hurriedly stepped out of the car.

“Bathroom!” He screeched at the perturbed doorman who he’d almost ran into.

As you prepared to leave, you felt Doyoung’s hand clasp around your wrist. Surprised, you looked up at him, puzzled yet not daring to move in front of your favourite actor.

Doyoung was silent for a moment before he said, “I… I’ll see you.”

For some reason, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment. You smiled warmly, “I really hope we can meet again, Doyoung. Thank you for the wonderful evening.”

He nodded tightly, letting you go and just before you left - maybe you were just imagining things - you thought you detected a hint of reluctance in his eyes.

☀️-☀️-☀️

“What a waste!”

Alex’s shriek was so piercing that the rest of you had to cover your ears. Frowning, you rubbed at them.

“Please don’t scream, it’s hurting our eardrums.”

“How could I not?! You guys clearly had something going on. If it wasn’t for his manager cutting in, who knows how far the two of you would have gone! What a waste!”

“Don’t blow this out of proportion, it was a one time date. I doubt he even remembers me.”

Meeting Doyoung was an experience of a lifetime and though upset that it ended, you were also glad that it happened in the first place. At the end of the day, it was a date and nothing else as much as you wanted more. It had been about two weeks since the date and ever since coming back, it was safe to say that nothing much had changed. Perhaps, the only thing that really changed was Alex’s habit of screaming ‘what a waste’ whenever Doyoung appeared on television in the store’s breakroom. You really wish she’d stop doing that.

“You know, I agree with Alex. It’s definitely poor timing.” Renjun quipped before Alex interjected, “It’s not poor timing, it’s absolutely HORRIBLE timing. Jesus!”

“Look guys, I’d rather just enjoy the experience. There’s no point thinking what could have been and what couldn’t have. It was a great experience and I had fun, that’s really it,” you smiled, rolling your eyes. “This isn’t a kdrama.”

“Y/n’s right. Y’all drama queens gotta tone it down a notch,” Dana said.

“Ugh, you guys are no fun. I would have dove at the chance,” Alex sighed, slumping against her chair which elicited a giggle from you.

“Why are you more piffed than I am? That doesn’t make sense.”

“It’s because you lost a chance that was just right under your nose!”

Just then, the faint tinkling sound from the entrance of the bookstore signalled the arrival of yet another customer. “I’ll get that,” Renjun said, leaving the three of you.

“How much do you guys want to bet that it’s Mrs Conwell down the street again with her weekly erotica dose?” Alex asked, a look of mischief on her face.

Just then, Renjun appeared, looking properly flustered with an excitable look on his face, like he could barely contain his glee. His chest was heaving like he’d ran a marathon and the words that came out of his mouth were jumbled.

“I-I-! You... guys… You…. Y/n!”

You looked at him, eyes wide. “What happened, Renjun?”

“You’re… You’re needed outside.”

“Me?” You thought, confused. Why on earth-

You dropped the book that you had been scanning, your eyes as wide as saucers and your jaw almost touching the ground. How? Why? What?

Doyoung stood before you, clad in a striped blue and white dress shirt and jeans, seemingly looking around the store in wonderment. The sight of him triggered memories of the date though the actual reality of him being in the store was enough to almost knock you off your feet. It felt almost surreal to see him again and you almost had to pinch yourself.

At the sound of the book clattering to the ground, he turned, smiling once he’d found you.

“Y/n!”

“H-How did you- I… What?”

At your reaction, Doyoung shifted awkwardly at his feet as he scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry, is this too sudden?”

“Um… Yes?!” You blurted out, covering your mouth in mortification as he chuckled, “I figured so, I hope you don’t mind though?” You shook your head vigorously, feeling your legs beginning to turn to jelly at the surrealness of the whole situation. Here he was again, Kim Doyoung, standing before you except this time, it wasn’t a date you’d won or anything.

He had come out of his own accord.

Behind you, a shrill scream followed and you didn’t even have to turn to know who it was.

“Oh my god!” Alex screamed, her voice a mix of excitement and nervousness at the sight of the actor in the tiny store and even Dana couldn’t stop gaping.

“Why are you here?” You asked Doyoung. There were so many questions flying around in your mind and you couldn’t think of which to even ask first.

“After that night we spent at resonance beach, there was something that had been lingering on my mind. Something I’d wanted to ask. Remember that moment right before Taeil jumped in?”

You could feel in your gut that something great was stirring but you whispered, “Yeah?”

“I was wondering… If I could ask you on another date. Just the two of us, no managers, no paparazzi this time. What do you say?”

“Of course, she’ll go!” Alex cried before you could even answer and the both of you chuckled, leaning into each other as you did.

“Well, your friend has certainly spoken. But what do you think?”

You looked up at Doyoung, eyes sparkling.

“Yes. Yes, I’ll go on a date with you, Kim Doyoung.”

#resonancebeach #kpopscape #nct-writers #neowritingsnet #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct doyoung #kim doyoung #doyoung imagines #doyoung fluff #nct doyoung imagines #nct doyoung scenarios #doyoung scenarios #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 doyoung #nct 127 scenarios #nct scenarios #doyoung x reader #nct doyoung x reader #please let the tags work

[dainty-fingertips]

hail 2 u! ||polnareff x fem! reader

HEY HI so im just kinda dumping stuff from google docs onto here to kind of establish myself so anyway heres my french bb wjhged;; also minor spoilers if you haven’t finished stardust crusaders!!

word count: 2449

summary: you and polnareff were teamed by dio himself and saved by jotaro in hong kong. polnareff is hit with a wave of guilt as you and the crusaders reach what joseph has said to be avdol’s father’s island. you follow him out onto the beach to try and comfort him, and while it seems to work, the enemy stand hiding nearby inside an old middle-eastern kerosene lamp has no intention of giving you both time alone. that is, until the frenchman makes a certain wish.

trigger warnings: none :)

||

          He sat down on the chopped stump of a palm tree, his head in the palm of his hand. She had followed after him when he walked away, she knew he wouldn’t stop blaming himself for the death of Avdol. She approached him from behind with a worried look on her face. “Polnareff…” She said, softly. He turned around. “Oh, [y,n].” He said. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Mr Joestar and the others?” She stayed silent. She calmly walked toward the Frenchman and rested on a large rock to his right. “I couldn’t just let you go on your own.” She muttered, her face growing warm. “You know what happens when you’re left by yourself, anyway.” She smiled somberly, trying to lighten the mood.

          He chuckled dryly. “Yeah, yeah.” He turned toward her a bit. Thankfully her weak attempt at humor had worked, as his expression seemed less dull. The wind picked up a bit, causing the afternoon sun to beam down a bit more harshly on the beach. He turned his head, and she followed suit. He squinted his eyes. “Hey, is that…?” She tilted her head. “It looks like…” He stood up and approached the shiny object, a dull gold hue peppering through a barnacle clad shell. She raised herself off of the rock and took a few steps forward, glancing around his side. “It’s pretty.” He said, his eyebrows raised.

          He picked it up and examined it. “I wonder if it came from a shipwreck. Look at all of those barnacles.” She added, moving around and picking at it with her fingernails. “Hey, hey! Careful! You might scratch the gold underneath!” He said, holding it above his head and significantly out of her reach. “H-Hey! No fair, Pol!” She cried with furrowed eyebrows. He laughed at her futile attempts. “Yeah, right!” The two of them went through a solid minute of teasing, insulting, jumping, and punching (Three of those four were brought upon by [y,n], that is), it seemed that the strange object had been rubbing around in his hand quite a bit.

          A sudden burst of blinding light beamed out through what was left of the barnacles and caused Polnareff and [y,n] both to panic, and him to drop it. They both stepped back, [y,n] opposite to him. An odd smoke rose out of the tip of what was now seen to be a kerosene lamp of sorts; similar to the one from Aladdin. Though, the smoke disappeared just as quickly as it had come, causing the two of them to look around confused. The light and smoke both were gone, but the lamp remained. Polnareff sighed after a moment. “Man! That was weird. Must’ve been pressurized air from inside.” He said, a hand on his forehead. [y,n] nodded looking to the left. “Would’ve been cooler if there were a genie, but, you’re right. Probably just gas.”

          When she looked back, however, she panicked and pointed behind him. “P-Polnareff, look out! A Stand!” He jumped, his eyes widening. He took long strides toward her and whipped his head around. “What the hell?!” A peculiar looking Stand, one which appeared to be more industrial than some of the previous that the group had encountered. “Three wishes!” The Stand called, holding up an arm-like appendage; though it had only three fingers on each hand. “I will grant you three wishes! Whatever you wish is my command, master!” The Stand was gigantic, standing a solid 10 feet tall. “My name is Cameo. Thank you for letting me out of my lamp.” [y,n] glanced around, sweat sliding down her cheek. “Uhh, n-no problem.”

          Though, it didn’t seem that Polnareff was ready to initiate conversation with the entity. “Another Stand user! [y,n], back me up!” She looked at him and nodded her head. Blossom Samurai and Silver Chariot, both sword wielding Stands, got into a sort of formation, with Samurai behind Chariot. They battered Cameo with their swords, but they barely did any damage. Chariots rapier was too weak, and Blossom’s attacks were only a mere second too slow causing Cameo to dodge with ease. “Son of a…” Breathed them both in unison. “You’re pretty strong!” Said Polnareff. “Your user must be close. Where is he?” Cameo crossed its arms. “Again, I’m here only to grant wishes. Do you want your first wish to be a lame one like that?” He groaned.

          Polnareff granted. “Yeah, yeah, what is it with you and wishes, huh? Are you saying you can make me rich right now?” Cameo’s voice was unwavering. “Is that your first wish?” Polnareff relaxed a small bit, but was still on edge. “You know what? Sure, dumbo. Let’s see you put your money where your mouth is.” Cameo’s arms uncrossed. [y,n] squinted. “Fine, then. Your wish shall be granted.” The two of them raised their eyebrows. “Huh?” Mumbled [y,n]. Cameo put its arms in an odd position, like a puppeteer would do, and raised its voice. “Hail 2 U!” 

          It immediately disappeared, causing them to blink a few times and watch the leftover smoke dissipate. Polnareff reached down and pulled the half buried lamp from the sand. Night had nearly fallen by now, but it was still visible. “What was all that about?” Polnareff asked in a confused tone. He sighed. “So…” she muttered. “What was that thing? Was it a Stand, or wasn’t it?” He shrugged. “If it is, what a weird Stand to send after someone.” He noted with a chuckle. She nodded her head. Damn these Stand users; she just wanted a chance to be with Polnareff. She excused the thought from her head with a bite of her lip. “Do you think maybe it’s got something to do with Avdol’s dad?” He shrugged his shoulders, the sunlight caressing his face in a way that would make anyone melt. 

          Her face got hot again. This stupid Frenchman has no idea what he’s doing, sending soft gazes her way. Every time he laughed, she felt like melting butter. She couldn’t help but look away from him with a coy grin. Polnareff chuckled. “Hey, what’s that look for? Come on, you don’t have to force yourself to look away. I know you think I’m hot.” He teased nonchalantly. She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Hah! As if, stupid.” She sent him a playful grin and stuck her tongue out. She was really hoping he didn’t actually know.

          It was then in that moment, both of them smiling goofily at each other, that a noise was heard. “Hey, what was that?” He asked, turning around. “Sounded like metal.” She said, walking in the direction of the noise. It was near; maybe just in the grass 6 feet away. Polnareff followed suit, and lo and behold. “W-Whoa!” She cried, leaning in. “No way!” He yelled afterward. The two of them crowded around what appeared to be a half buried chest of doubloons, jewelry, and bejeweled goldware. “T-That’s real buried treasure!” He called, scooping a few coins out. “But how?” She asked, tuning her fingers through it. “Hell if I know! But this is all mine!” He laughed chaotically. 

          “You little—! I helped you find this, I get half! 50/50!” He snorted. “As if, stupid!” He retorted, mocking her previous statement. “Ooooh, I’m gonna kick your--!” Directly before she went for his money, Cameo’s booming voice echoed from above. “Now, what is your second wish? I shall grant it.” The two of them shot their gazes up to the Stand. Polnareff freaked and dropped the coins, to which [y,n] then picked up and stuffed in her pocket. “Y-You! Why are you doing this?! Whatever you have up your sleeve, I’m not falling for it!” He yelled up at the genie, perched in a palm tree. “I am keeping the gold though.” He added shortly after.

          Cameo stayed silent for a moment. The only sound that could be heard was the wind blowing and the ocean rocking. “Is the answer to that question your second wish? As thanks for my freedom, I’ll give you anything,  including such a stupid answer.” [y,n] huffed and nudged Polnareff. He looked down at her and his expression softened. “F-Fine, then.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “I want to be a comic artist!” He exclaimed. The answer threw [y,n] for a loop completely. A comic artist? She had never known he was interested in art. In fact, the only interest he’d shown was when he’d watch her draw.

          “I’ve always wanted to be one! And not just some starving artist, either! I want to be more popular than Walt Disney!” She furrowed her eyebrows with a stunned expression. “Huh?” She whispered. “Pol, I don’t think—“ he cut her off. “I want to create Polnareff Land!” He stood with his arms out in a comically dramatic stance, [y,n] in a stunned (and slightly embarrassed) silence at his side. “... Is this your wish?” Polnareff lowered his arms. “Actually, no, wait,” Oh thank God. She wiped metaphorical sweat from her forehead. Maybe he’d think of something more rational.

          “I want a girlfriend!”

          The phrase made her freeze in place. Her eyes were wide and her throat closed. He wanted a girlfriend, did he? He really must have just thought of her as a friend, then. She kept her mouth shut and kept her eyes on Cameo. What was she supposed to say to that? The words echoed in her mind. She wanted to love him like that so badly, but Polnareff seemed to feel otherwise. “Love is better than money or fame.” He said with a grin. At least he was sincere about that, she could tell. “She’s got to be really cute. I want a girl who’s my perfect match! Our pinkies entwined with the red string of love!” He held up his right pinkie finger for emphasis. 

          Polnareff had never made her feel so conflicted before. Her insecurities began to softly gnaw at her. Was she not cute enough? She felt like they were perfect for each other. She’d liked him since Hong Kong. Was this really happening? She simply kept her gaze on Cameo. She stared at it. What was it going to do? She thought genies couldn’t make people fall in love. “You want me to find the perfect match for you?” It asked him. “Yeah! Try that, bastard!” Cameo sat still for a moment. As she was staring, she noticed it turn its head slightly in her direction. It was looking at her.

          She inhaled sharply. What was it doing? Cameo was completely silent for several seconds until it finally decided to pipe up. “Very well.” It turned its head back to Polnareff slowly. “Hail 2 U!” The Stand once again dissolved into smoke. Polnareff looked at his finger expectantly, and sure enough, there it was. She saw it too. The red string of fate. He grinned. “Oh, wow! I finally get to have my perfect girl!” He beamed. She stayed silent. He looked down at her curiously. “Hey, you okay? You’d usually have made fun of me or something by now.” She looked ahead and nodded. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m good. I’m happy for you, man.” Though she never once looked at him. Polnareff sighed. “Thanks, I’m glad too! Let’s see, where does it lead?” He held the string and noticed it went to his right. He looked in growing surprise to see [y,n] standing there, staring into the ocean with the most flat look he’d seen her sport, and a growing lump in her throat. Was she about to cry?

          He wasn’t really sure what prompted him to do it. What made him want to look down first before pressing her on how she felt. Though he was sure glad he did; in fact, it was arguably the best decision he made during that 50 day trip. If he hadn’t taken a mere half second to glance down below her waist, Polnareff wouldn’t have caught the crimson string tied around her finger until a much later, possibly much more awkward time during their interaction. He felt his heart swell inside of his chest, sheer ecstasy causing blood to rush to his cheeks and make his face burn as if he himself were a bonfire of sheer emotion.

          “H-Hey…” he began, reaching out with a shaky left hand. “Hm?” She looked over. She hoped the darkness of night would hide the tear that had dropped from her right eye and down her cheek. “[y,n], you, uh… your hand.” She slowly held up her left hand and stared in shock at the string around her pinkie. “That’s— that’s the-“ she quickly turned to look at his hand. Sure enough, the two were bound. Polnareff soon grew a stupid grin. “Well, well. Look at that.” The utter euphoria she experienced in that moment went unmatched with anything else she’d ever felt. “We-“ she choked back another sob as more tears fell. She covered her mouth and shut her eyes. 

          Polnareff freaked out. “H-Hey!! You okay? [y,n], c’mon! I’m not that bad!” He joked. “You idiot!” She called, throwing her arms around him. “You scared me!” She heaved into his shoulder. “I thought- I thought you didn’t—“ she shakily said. He chuckled. “Hey, hey! Calm down! If you’re wondering if I didn’t like you, you’re not just wrong. You’re stupid.” He grinned softly. She giggled like a little kid on Christmas. “I was so afraid when you said you wanted a girlfriend.” She said, pulling away. Polnareff put his arms around her waist. 

          “I thought I wasn’t good enough.” She laughed awkwardly. “I only said it because I thought you didn’t like me.” She noticed a glimmer in Polnareff’s eye; he was crying too. “O-Oh, Pol, you-“ before she could say another word he pressed his full lips against hers in a brief kiss. “Shut up.” He laughed, tears smeared on her face. She snorted and wiped his cheek. “I’ve liked you for so long. Ever since Hong Kong.” He scoffed playfully. “Ever since Dio paired us, you little snail. Did you just ignore all my little attempts to go on dates with you?” She giggled. “I didn’t wanna take it the wrong way. You never actually asked, idiot.” 

“Well, how about this.” He cleared his throat and laughed again. “Do you want to go on a date with me?” She nodded with a dumb grin. “Yes, yes, of course, dumbass.” She leaned up for a kiss and he returned the gesture. “Let’s beat the hell outta this guy and regroup, okay?” He smiled. “My pleasure.”

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba x reader #jjba sdc #stardust crusaders #jean pierre polnareff #polnareff jojo #jean pierre polnareff x reader #polnareff x reader #jjba part three #jotaro kujo #muhammed avdol #joseph joestar #noriaki kakyoin #iggy jjba #jjba fanfic #this is old but idc #i think its cute so HAH #x reader #anime x reader

[charliemotha]

behold! i didn't see any otgw icebergs, so i made my own :)

if you think i should add something, lmk!!

Explanations under cut :)

First layer:

▪︎Beast!Wirt au - very popular au in which Wirt stays in the Unknown, possessed by the Beast to some extent.

▪︎Bad End Friends - Crossover AU of Beast!Wirt teaming up with Ice Finn from Adventure Time and Bipper from Gravity Falls; sometimes other 'bad end' au characters are thrown in such as a glitched Gumball from TAWOG

▪︎Irl Copies of the For Sara tape - Limited copies of the For Sara tape were sold at two points. They have yet to sell for a third time. (🤞🤞🤞)

▪︎Tome of the Unknown (pilot) - The Pilot of the series. Can be watched on YouTube.

▪︎Wirt Staying in the Unknown - In a scrapped ending, Wirt was to stay in the Unknown, saying that facing your real problems was scarier than staying there.

▪︎Mystery Kids - Crossover AU with other child-late teens aged characters from sources based on mysterious and supernatural themes such as Gravity Falls and Psychonauts.

▪︎Quincy Endicott's grave - Quincy's grave can be seen in the graveyard that Sara and the others are hanging out in.

▪︎Original Beatrice Voice Actress - Beatrice had a different VA in the pilot, Natasha Leggero. Melanie Lynskey voices her in the actual series.

▪︎The Woodsman's Daughter is Named Anna - The comics have several issues focused on his daughter, in which her name is revealed to be Anna.

▪︎Jason Funderburker's Ax Murderer Story - At the gathering in the graveyard, Funderburker is telling a story about a man with an ax; this story is believed to have influenced the existence of the Woodsman.

▪︎Full Versions of Songs in the OST - A handful of the songs are cut down for their appearances in the series and can only be heard in full on the OST. The most notable example is Old Black Train , which is actually 2 minutes and 15 seconds long, but is only in the series for about 15-20 seconds.

Second Layer:

▪︎Sara is named after the Fleetwood Mac song - Listen to it here :) it is notable that it includes lyrics about "drowning in a sea of love" and that Sara is "the poet of [the singer's] heart."

▪︎OTGW Reanimated - a reanimated project for the first episode. Got taken off of YouTube, but can be viewed on Dailymotion.

▪︎Baby Wirt Audio - In the For Sara cassette, there is a small section of audio that can be heard in about the middle of the recording of Wirt's father talking to him as a baby.

▪︎Funderburker/Funderberker - The two Jasons's surnames are spelled slightly differently to avoid confusion.

▪︎The Brothers Never Ate or Needed to Rest - Although Greg expressed being hungry, neither of the boys actually ate anything (outside of one spoonful of bland potatoes and inedible items such as dirt and leaves) and never laid down to rest, only sleeping when night came.

▪︎Book on Interior Design in Wirt's Room - In Wirt's from, a book on interior design can be seen laying on the floor, backing up the knowledge he displayed when analyzing the interconnected mansions.

▪︎Mad Love was Based on a Dream - The plot of Mad Love came from a dream that Pat McHale had about house hunting. In the dream, while exploring one of the houses being shown, he ended up wandering into someone else's home.

▪︎Beatriceoftheday - A blog dedicated to our lord and savior Beatrice, known for its strange shitposts and intense praise of the titular bird girl.

▪︎Wirt is Jealous of Greg's Popularity - Shown in the Circus Friends issue of the comics, Wirt is jealous of Greg's ability to make everyone laugh and have fun. This may factor into his dislike of his brother.

▪︎Greg was Feeding Fred at the Tavern - At first watching, one may be confused as to where all the food Greg was gathering went, why Fred was wearing lipstick and why he was refusing to talk to Beatrice. Shown in a deleted scene, this all explained, as Fred tells Beatrice that he didn't talk to her because Greg was feeding him.

▪︎Elijah Wood Voiced the Crazy Driver - Exactly what is says on the tin, the nutty driver was voiced by Wood.

▪︎Cloud City is Heaven - A popular theory that Cloud City actually represents Heaven.

▪︎Greg is Greg Universe - A headcanon/theory that has mostly died out that Greg is the same Greg in Steven Universe.

▪︎Bee Beatrice - Beatrice was originally cursed to become a bee, but was changed into a bluebird to match better with the seasonal autumn theme.

▪︎Pat McHale Voiced Wirt's Voice Crack - Wirt's voice crack when asking the Beast Are You? was actually done by McHale, not Wood.

▪︎The Other Actors Harassing Elijah Wood When Singing Wirt's Song - In order to make the performance as awkward as possible, the other actors were asked to yell and demand Wirt to sing. This can be heard in the episode.

▪︎Come Wayward Souls Has the Same Melody as O Holy Night - The song shares a cadence with "O Holy Night", and can be sung to its tune.

▪︎Black Turtles Origin/Purpose - No one knows why the black turtles exist, and McHale has said that they're just one of the unexplainable things of the Unknown.

▪︎Anna Never Left the House - In the aforementioned comics, it is shown that Anna had never left the house, living on her own until the Woodsman's return.

▪︎Sailor Suit Greg - Greg originally wore a sailor suit, but was changed later on to his current, Johnny Appleseed inspired outfit .

▪︎Beatrice Missing Being Able to Flip People Off - In the Art Book, Beatrice's introduction states that one of the reasons she hates being a bird is because she no longer has hands to flip people off with.

Third Layer

▪︎Jason Funderberker is Visually Based on a Teen Pat McHale - As seen here, Funderberker was designed after McHale.

▪︎Babes in the Wood is Based on an Old Alice in Wonderland Cartoon - You can view the original 1923 cartoon here! Starts at 4:25.

▪︎Wirt and Sara are Dipper and Mabel's Parents - A popular AU/hc where Dipper and Mabel of Gravity Falls are the future kids of Wirt and Sara.

▪︎The Tune of Wirt's Song is Improvised - In addition to the aforementioned harassment, in a further attempt to make the performance as awkward as possible, Elijah Wood was not given a tune to sing, only the lyrics.

▪︎Wirt's Costume Origin - As said in the art book and on his tumblr, Wirt's cone and cape come from an attempted rock and roll persona from McHale's teen years.

▪︎Greg is Based on Pat McHale's Son - It has been claimed that Greg is based on McHale's son, but Greg existed before him. The similarities are simply coincidental.

▪︎Old Scratch - The original name of the Beast.

▪︎The Beast Killed the Woodsman's Wife - Shown in the comics, The Woodsman's wife was mortally injured, with her attacker implied to be the Beast.

▪︎Wirt and Greg Staying in the Unknown Until Christmas - Another scrapped ending, in which the brothers stay in The Unknown until Christmas, with their absence unexplained.

▪︎Tome of the Unknown (original plot) - Early concepts had the Beast ( then known as Old Scratch as mentioned earlier ) scattering the pages of the titular book for the brothers to collect. Each page would come to life and the brothers would explore each story.

▪︎Dante's Inferno Comparisons - Check out these videos for full analysis!

▪︎Wirt Panty Shots - In the aforementioned Circus Friend comics, Wirt dons a dress as part of a disguise. Later on, he rips off the bottom half off, revealing that he is wearing bloomers.

▪︎The Beast's True Form was Inspired by Trypophobia - As stated in the art book, The Beast's hole-filled appearance was inspired by Trypophobia, the fear of many small holes.

▪︎The Fight is Over is About Drowning - Give the lyrics another read.

▪︎The Beast Last Minute Design Change - The Beast had a very different design, and it was changed into the current one at the last minute.

▪︎Gnome in Cloud City Representing Wirt - Many people believed that the Gnome with the lantern in cloud city was a parallel to Wirt, or a glimpse into his future. However, this was debunked.

▪︎Send Me a Peach - This song is included in the ost, but isn't in the actual series.

▪︎Fred and the Highwayman's Backstory - The comics expand upon the story of Fred the Horse and his involvement with the Highwayman.

Fourth Layer

▪︎Babes in the Wood Title Origin - The name of this episode comes from an old story of a pair of children getting lost in the woods, dying, and being buried in leaves by robins.

▪︎poorlydrawnotgw - This was a blog created during the poorly drawn series meme period. It consisted of poorly drawn and very strange shitposts and has since been deactivated. I was a part of it as mod Goopy Wirt and only have a handful of images saved from it.

▪︎Read and Listen Book Lost Audio - A read and listen book was created, with the book being read by Greg's Frog, who would stop every now and again to talk about being a frog. The pages can be found online, but the audio is currently lost.

▪︎Skinless Witch - A scrapped episode concept involved a skinless witch that kidnapped Greg and rode him like a horse.

▪︎Gentleman Burglar Wirt - A scrapped concept in which Wirt breaks into a woman's home, who is charmed by this young man who has come to visit her.

▪︎Animal Transformation - It was originally planned for Wirt and Greg to be turned into a bear/dog and a duck and remain that way for several episodes. This was later used in the comics.

▪︎The Unknown is influenced by Wirt's mind/interests - The Unknown is influenced by those who walk in it, in this case, Wirt. This includes the old timey mystical nature of it, as Wirt has been stated to have an interest in old folk tales.

▪︎Good Guy Beast/Black Train Scrapped Concept - In an earlier draft, the brothers were on a train, heading to what they assumed was death. They jump off, ending up in the Unknown. The Beast tries to get them back on the train, which turns out to be heading back to life.

▪︎Evil Woodsman - At one point, the Woodsman was intended to be under the influence of the Beast and tried to sabotage the brothers's attempts to return home.

▪︎Lorna Reading the Tome of the Unknown in the Epilogue - In the epilogue, Lorna can be seen reading the titular book from the aforementioned scrapped plot.

▪︎The Beast was Originally the Devil Himself - The Beast was first designed as a devil-like character, the aforementioned Old Scratch.

▪︎The Brothers Never Went Home/The Hospital is Part of The Unknown - a theory based on the fact that the edges of the screen are still blurred at the end of chapter 10, the rushed narration, and the lack of consequences of nearly drowning.

▪︎Beatrice Seeing Wirt Nude - In one of the comics, Beatrice accidentally sees Wirt while he is washing his clothes in the river.

▪︎Sara is a Descendant of Lorna - A theory that Sara is a distant relative of Lorna.

▪︎Exists in the Same Universe as Clarence and Home Movies - The most well known piece of evidence is the overhead shot of the town matching the town that Clarence is set in. Wirt and Greg also have a cameo in another episode, and one of the final episodes shows Brendon Small of Home Movies runs a movie rental store in the town, connecting all three series together.

Final Layer

▪︎Beast x Wirt - Also known as Poetree.

▪︎Candycone - Greg x Wirt.

#otgw #over the garden wall #iceberg #iceberg meme #iceberg image #otgw iceberg

[clarenecessities]

As my followers may have picked up from my long, spiraling rants, I’ve undertaken a new research project, courtesy of the death grip She-Ra has on my brain. And guess what? It’s finally at Disseminate Information Stage! So I’m going to lay out all of the gods, demigods, and godbeasts of the Masters of the Universe. With sources!

This table is more of a cheat sheet. We’re gonna tackle this god by god, with a section on Actual Lore & a meta section to help you decide how valid you think they are, because frankly some canons are more canon than others.

Asklepia, Benevolent Snake Goddess

Lore: Asklepia is one of two snake goddesses, the benevolent twin sister of Serpentia. We know very little about her abilities, but the Snake Clan (a clan of human warriors) were said to worship her, and they were famed for their architecture and healing. She had the ability to curse and deform people--to what extent is uncertain, but she’s known to have condemned a fallen priest named Ka, whose disfigured likeness now adorns Snake Mountain.

Behind the Scenes: First appearing in the 1987 comic “Il Nero Cristallo Del Potere“, Asklepia remained nameless for over 30 years, until Masters of the Universe Classics (MOTUC) released a few choice bios. For the unfamiliar, MOTUC seeks to reconcile the often contradictory canons into one overarching narrative, which is great in theory, but in practice is kind of like putting ice cream on a hot dog. And calling it a Chilly Dog ® as if that makes it taste better. But I digress. In 2019 they released a bio for the Staff of Ka which finally put a name to the less-evil Snake Goddess, in an obvious nod to Asclepius and the asklepian (that staff+snake icon people put on medical stuff).

Sharella, the Green Goddess and/or “Avatar” of Asklepia

Lore: Contradictory

Long Version: Okay I’ve put avatar in quotes because it is... contentious. Basically, and you’ll see here why I felt the need to make this post instead of relying blindly on the wikis, Sharella was introduced (in the ‘87 licensing guide) as a tribal leader who had joint custody of Gray, the original name of He-Ro’s alter ego, while he was growing up. This was further developed by Emiliano Santalucia’s concept work, wherein she was the leader of the Green Tiger Tribe (GTT) specifically. While the comic concept was not run through licensing & is thus not “canon”, the idea of her leading the GTT persisted. This teeny tiny image of her from Tytus and Megator’s 1987 Italian box art was all we had until 2008, when one of He-Man’s accessories described her as the “warrior woman ally” of Queen Veena, “who had been changed into the immortal green-skinned avatar of the Goddess Asklepia”. In 2009, MOTUC released a figure for The Goddess, apparently forgetting they’d done that shit the year before because the packaging did say “K’yrulla” was her real name. They had to cover it up with a sticker. 

So who’s The Goddess? Way back in the days before Mattel solidified any of the lore around MOTU, there were mini-comics released with the toys. Initially, the Goddess served a similar function to the Sorceress in the cartoon, and was in fact sometimes called the Sorceress. She facilitated He-Man’s transformations, gave him missions, was generally magical and mysterious, etc. If you know who the Sorceress is, and you can picture Teela, but green? That’s about it.

Back to Sharella, though. The Third Ultimate Battleground rolled around in 2015, and for the first time since some packaging in the 80s, we saw Sharella in action! She was shot through the heart with a poison arrow. Yeah. But don’t worry, she received a blood transfusion from Moss Man (who we’ll get to later), and was transformed into the Green Goddess! She’s immortal now. How Asklepia figures in here is sort of unclear, which is weird since this is still part of the MOTUC line, but whatever. Whatever! Queen Grayskull (the aforementioned Veena) received a bio in 2015 as well, which described Sharella as her apprentice who became “The Goddess”.

Horokoth, Aspect of the Mother Goddess

Lore: DC went a little batshit (pun intended) with the lore for the Eternity War. Here the Goddess is three combined aspects, “Serpos” (Serpentia) for the Snake Men, Zoar for the human “Eternians”, and a third, invented deity called Horokoth, who represents the Horde. Horokoth is “the coming destroyer. The darkness at the end of days.” and is represented by a bat.

Behind the Scenes: That last link has a clearer picture of her, it just didn’t crop well. Also, I confess I couldn’t bring myself to read Eternity War. As thrilling as the prospect of a cohesive narrative is, if I wanted to see Adora slit her brother’s throat there’s the edgier side of deviantArt to peruse. Therefore I know little of Horokoth outside of a few still images of Hordak. The bat was almost certainly selected for the Horde’s vespertilian emblem.

Hordeous, God-Beast of Horokoth

Lore: A “primordial”, bat-like godbeast of Horokoth, created in response to the god Saz’s feline races. Their face was “forever infused“ on the surface of Horde World by Horde Lord (Hordak and Horde Prime’s father in the MOTUC canon) to grant their family power and immortality.

Behind the Scenes: Yes they’ve used some words wrong, but they’ve got the spirit, right? Hordeous was (allegedly, this is secondhand) an invention of the MOTUC crew in answer to Horokoth. Now, the Horde Supreme bio predates Horokoth’s introduction by about 3 years, but obviously the comics were in production already. There’s an undated sketch of Horokoth Hordak from an undated interview (thanks for nothing you useless website) but in that same gallery there’s an orko sketch labeled 2012 so. We’re good right? That makes sense, timeline-wise. Anyway the comics slam dunked Horde Prime out of existence and combined him with Horde Lord so it’s contradictory anyway. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Serpentia, Malevolent Snake Goddess

Lore: The evil counterpart of Asklepia, Serpentia is the goddess of the Snake Men. The priest Ka of the Snake Clan forsook Asklepia in her favor, destroying Asklepia’s sacred orb and stealing the Serpent Ring (an artefact capable of transforming humans into Snake Men) from the Ophidian Spire with King Hsss. In DC’s triune interpretation of the Goddess, Serpentia (here ‘Serpos’) is blood, passion, and desire. A primal and primordial force appearing to the Snake Men in their own image.

Behind the Scenes: Okay yes I’ve reused the Asklepia pic but in my defense they are twins and this is the easiest one to crop. So here’s the thing about Serpentia: we only got a name for her in 2019. We knew there was a snake goddess, and she was pretty evil, or at least hostile towards mammalian life (see: the source of the pic I chose for her). Where Asklepia references the asklepian, ‘Serpentia’ is a much more heavy-handed snake reference, even though Anguis was right there. Those Masters Mondays came through for us, though, with the shield and staff of Ka, Ssssylph, and of course MOTUC’s Dark Despot Skeletor, which is. something. Though only recently named, Serpentia has been a shadow over Eternia since the Snake Men’s introduction in 1985 (or, depending on how much of the presented backstory you accept, even sooner in the form of Skeletor’s lair, Snake Mountain).

Serpos/Sarcedon, God-Beast of Snake Mountain

Lore: Contradictory, but the gist of it is he’s a very large snake with elemental magic and a grudge, that was turned to stone and became Snake Mountain.

Long Version: Snake Mountain was conceived of towards the end of 1982, but wasn’t revealed to the public until September of 1983, with the debut of the Filmation cartoon. For another year, the snake coiled around its summit was simply a carving, its mouth hollowed out for Skeletor to stand in and loom. But in 1984 the Snake Mountain toy was released, completely discarding the Filmation design in favor of the hewn face of the figure we now call Ka. Instead of a snake carving winding its way up the peak, the Mattel toy featured a ‘striking serpent’, alive and attached to the mountain itself. From there, it was an easy leap to make to ‘this carving comes alive’. So easy, in fact, that they did it twice!

First attempted in 1985 in the newspaper storyline “Vengeance of the Viper King”, the snake was here called Sarcedon, the World Destroyer. At the dawn of time, he was said to crush Eternia within his deadly coils. He burrowed deep into the ground, causing fearsome storms that nearly destroyed the planet. Only a fearless hero (implied to be He-Ro) could defeat and imprison Sarcedon. Using a macguffin called a Mirror of History, He-Man forced Sarcedon to behold his own reflection in a reference to the Medusa myth that kind of missed the point of it being reflective. Sarcedon was sent back in time, Snake Mountain was restored, the good guys win, blah blah blah.

That was the last of it until the MYP cartoon in 2004. Serpos as a name was actually first invoked by Mer-Man in a 1982 minicomic, but like it probably wasn’t about the snake. Anyway in the MYP cartoon the Snake Men get this thing called the Medallion of Serpos that lets them un-petrify the snake around Snake Mountain, grow two more heads, and unleash his godly wrath. He breathes fire, trashes Eternos, beats up He-Man, then turns his attention on Castle Grayskull to consume the Orb of Power (containing the strength and wisdom of the Elders, who had first trapped him in stone). He-Man cuts off Serpos’s extra heads with a sword upgrade, the Elders are somehow magically restored to life, and they re-petrify him. Snake Mountain is restored, the good guys win, blah blah blah.

Zoar, the Fighting Falcon

Lore: Contradictory, but it sure is a bird!

Long Version: While Sharella’s backstory is fraught because of the comics couldn’t decide what they wanted her to be, Zoar was similarly tangled up by the toyline. Initially male, he went through several color schemes, some prettier than others. Though there was a vague association with the Sorceress before the cartoon (recall that pre-Filmation, the Sorceress was just the Goddess), Filmation made them literally inseperable by designating Zoar as the Sorceress’s falcon form, to which she was confined when leaving Castle Grayskull.

Some of the comics and Golden books showed Zoar as being flipping enormous & ridden into battle as a steed by Teela and Man-at-Arms. Pre-Filmation, Zoar was always referred to as male, but post-Filmation, always female, as an incarnation of the Sorceress.

The Eternity Wars comics describe Zoar as the third aspect of the Goddess, the ‘Great Preserver’ whose light would shine through the universe for eternity. They pull off a sort of tripartite priestess thing where it’s Serpos/Zoar/Horokoth represented by Teela-Na (the Sorceress)/Teela/Evil-Lyn.

MOTUC, of course, had to reconcile all of these contradictory canons. How’d they do it? “In the folklore of Eternia, the golden falcon symbolized the godhead Zoar, a powerful deity of Preternia. As a god, Zoar could appear in both male and female guises and while the blue-tipped female falcon was associated with the Sorceress of Grayskull, the golden falcon represented Zoar's masculine nature.” So Zoar is genderfluid now, and the Sorceress is merely borrowing their form when transforming into a falcon. This bio also established that Zoar had anointed the first Sorceress, Veena (Queen Grayskull), which explains why she has wings for no apparent reason.

Also it’s not offically MOTUC but the scultors of the line, Four Horsemen, made a single anthro Zoar for Power-Con 2013. In case you need that for some reason.

Glorybird, Emissary of Zoar

Lore: Many millennia ago, there were three siblings, who were very poor and mistreated by their stepmother, but had hearts filled with kindness and love. Zoar, recognizing their resilience and desire to help people, sent an emissary named Glorybird. Glorybird bestowed upon each sibling a divine gift, but as they used their new powers to fight for good, their stepmother revealed herself to be a Celestial Witch & attempted to sacrifice them to Zoar’s “greatest enemy”, Horokoth.  

Backstory: Okay, so the Star Sisters (and Glorybird) were in exactly one episode of She-Ra, primarily to set them up as new toy designs. While prototypes were made for these, the figures weren’t actually produced until MOTUC released figures for them in 2012. Though they were referenced in Princess Prom, and we saw a brief cameo in a background, Glorybird was absent until the introduction of the Star Siblings in Season Five.

That’s right! This bird is a god, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Saz, God of All Felines

Lore: One of the “Gods of the Multiverse” (he is the only member named explicitly), Saz was a blue-furred, feline deity responsible for the creation of all cats, humanoid or otherwise. He transformed himself into an enormous cat-beast to defeat Serpos and Hordeous, whose progenitors created them in envy of his children. Though Serpos was defeated, Hordeous escaped into the cosmos, and Saz himself vanished mysteriously.

Behind the Scenes: “By the whiskers of Saz!” is a fun pseudo-swear made by various cat races throughout MOTU, first in He-Man’s “The Cat and the Spider” and later in She-Ra’s “Magicats”. That was the only real mention of him until... okay, so MOTUC bios aren’t always attached to the product. Starting in 2018, they did this thing called Masters Mondays where they put unposted bios on the org forums. So while we’ve had the sword since 2010, we didn’t get the background on it until March of 2020. And then a couple weeks later, the Cat Mask of Catra bio referred to him as a “mystical being” instead of a god, but the mask was from 2011 so. He may not have been a god yet. It really depends on when the bios were actually written.

Saz wielded a blade probably best described as a falchion, whose quillon & langet formed a vaguely triangular shape around a deep red gem. I want to be clear that while it looks totally rad, this sword would be very impractical and have poor structural integrity were it not made by a literal god. Do not make swords like this. Also it’s almost certainly riffing on the Sword of Omens from Thundercats (affectionate).

Sabe-Or, Son of Saz

Lore: A green-furred, orange-striped paladin, Sabe-Or is one of the only named Ancients. He inherited his father’s blade upon Saz’s mysterious disappearance, and lived for centuries more. Upon his death, he transferred his “heroic essence” into a group of Eternian tigers, forever transforming them into the Green Tiger Tribe, whence both Granger (steed of King Grayskull), and Cringer, steed of Prince Adam.

Behind the Scenes: So “Battle Cat Man” is a concept that’s existed since they decided to make their hero ride a wicked tiger into battle. If you show a kid a superhero, and a supertiger, apparently the natural inclination of most children in the 80s was to combine the two. There are so many custom action figures. So, so many. Sabe-Or is visually a clear reference to this concept, and canonically seems to be the closest we’re going to get outside of the Thundercats crossover, unless you count Cowarros from 4H’s Mythic Legions line (I do, because it means Purrrplor is also canon and I fucking love calling him that).

Moss Man, Ancient Eternian Nature God

Lore: An ally of King Grayskull, Moss Man was something of an Eternian cryptid in the centuries leading up to He-Man Times. He has control over all plant life, the ability to meld with plants, and apparently can imbue sentience to said plants.

Behind the Scenes: Moss Man wasn’t featured in many episodes, because he’s a little... incredibly over-powered. He’s literally Bigfoot from 5000 years ago with magic powers. And like, since I don’t think the writers appreciate how long 5000 years is, you know what happened 5000 years ago? Stonehenge. This bitch is Stonehenge-old. But sure, you can trace a direct line of descent from his contemporary. smh. Anyway according to MOTUC his real name is Kreann’Ot N’Norosh so make of that what you will. Also his toys were pine-scented. I just love that.

Evil Seed, Rebellious Creation of Moss Man

Lore: Created by Moss Man to help fight in the Great Wars, Evil Seed betrayed his master and turned to evil (who could have foreseen this...), finding joy in corrupting all forms of plant life for his own amusement. Moss Man imprisoned him in enchanted chains, keeping him restrained for many millennia.

Behind the Scenes: According to MOTUC, his real name is Sero Malustro, clumsy New Latin for “(to) plant evil-burnt“. Why his name is New Latin and Moss Man’s is... whatever that is, I have no idea. As you can see from the image I included, he originally had an artichoke head, which was upgraded for the Mike Young Productions (MYP) cartoon. Personally I think the artichoke rules.

Volcana, the Fire Goddess

Lore: Canonically, she’s a fire goddess, and the mother of the Volcano Magus. Together, they are a rising force that seeks to conquer Etheria in the wake of Hordak’s defeat.

Backstory: Volcana has taken a long a twisted journey, but was first revealed to fans at Power-Con 2016 in a panel revealing previously unseen concepts and characters. After the first wave of She-Ra toys, a second wave was planned with a snow focus, to bring more attention the Filmation-neglected Frosta. This began with the introduction of a fire villain, an “evil lady that glows with heat” who would attempt to melt Castle Chill. That concept actually refers to a character named Amber (not Ember, as one might assume) who was reworked into a benevolent counterpart, Volcana’s twin sister.

Volcana was later fleshed out to be a Fire Goddess with flame-red hair, x-ray vision, and arms sculpted with flames. Her cape flew up with flame detail that rose up to control the volcano (of Volcanica, a proposed toyset that seems to have been reworked into the Crystal Falls). She was emphasized by Mattel to not start fires, which, honestly, is probably why they scrapped the character. He-Man couldn’t use his sword as a sword; a woman made of fire was basically doomed.

Now, though, we’re several decades in and lines made for collecters that are largely in their 30s and 40s can say whatever they want! So she’s canon, even if Amber isn’t. Yes there’s only one mention of her. Amber technically was mentioned in an unproduced episode titled “Amber Waves of Flame”, but as it was unproduced, it’s noncanonical.

Volcano Magus, Sinister Son of Volcana

Lore: Living within a dormant volcano, the Volcano Magus of the German audio plays was the source of most of Catra’s power and all of her evil intent. He supplied her with magic for spells and schemes with which to assail the Crystal Castle, but neither she nor Clawdeen were aware of the dark influence he held over them.

In the MOTUC canon, he’s specified as the son of Volcana, a demigod from the “Region of Volcanoes” who craved the nature magic of the Whispering Woods. When he learned the Twiggets were inextricably linked to that magic, he used his powers to petrify the former Rebels (this was after the Horde's defeat) and kidnap three Twiggets to drain the magic from their souls. Twiggets, for the uninitiated, are like purple tree-elf things. According to MOTUC, Razz is a Twigget, though the ‘real’ name they assigned her doesn’t fit their naming convention. She is purple, I guess.

Kowl, who avoided petrification, read Razz's spellbooks to find a way to save his friends, and learned of an Entrapment Gem that she hid in a shoe, for some reason. He confronted the Volcano Magus, spoke in the ancient tongue of the First Ones, and sucked him into the Gem.

Backstory: Admittedly this stuff is second hand, as I don’t speak German & they only have transcriptions/translations for the He-Man tapes anyway, but if anybody can find me an audio file I will do my best to verify. The MOTUC stuff at least I can confirm 100% because it’s from 2019 & I do speak English, for better or worse.

Oak, the Jackal God

Lore: Oak was the terrible Jackal God worshiped by the denizens of Zhar, an ancient civilization that once existed in a remote, forested region of Eternia. Long ago, Oak was imprisoned within a statue which could be found within the Temple of the Jackal. When Skeletor removed the statue from the temple, Oak broke free of the enchantment which imprisoned him and wreaked havoc on Eternia. Although the Jackal God was immensely powerful, he could be weakened by the elements of nature and was ultimately foiled by a rainstorm conjured by the combined powers of He-Man's sword and the magic of the temple's guardian priest.

Backstory: I have lifted this from a He-Man guide word for word as I cannot for the life of me find a copy of the Brazilian Editora Abril comic he came from, O Templo Do Chacal (1986). The description is like, suspiciously similar to the plot of the He-Man episode The Cat and the Spider, except the Grimalkin was never described as a god. The rest of it--statue, Skeletor, storm defeat--plays out almost the same. True pity I can’t find the original source, but I do trust this guidebook. You may be interested in Ceres from the UK comics--another dog-slash-statue who frankly might as well be a god himself, but as he’s not called one in canon he’s not going on the list.

The Bitter Rose Goddess

Lore: As Man-at-Arms told the legend, “Every day, a woman climbed Rose Mountain to look for her husband to return from the war. Alas, he never came back. Her tears poured from her cheek and entered the ground. One day she disappeared, but where she stood was a single, solitary rose. It’s the only thing that grows on Rose Mountain.”

The Insect People, who lived at the base of Rose Mountain, believed that the Bitter Rose is all that held the mountain together (and when it was picked, they were proved right). After the flower was restored, it transformed into the Bitter Rose Goddess herself, who explained that she had been a prisoner of her love's sorrow, so bitter that she refused to allow anything else to grow on Rose Mountain. She blessed the surrounding area, blanketing the jagged peaks with roses, and disappeared.

Backstory: She’s kind of... barely a god. She showed up in one episode and no other media & has objectively less power than like, every single demon they ever brought in. I almost didn’t put her on this list.

Mask-Ra, Goddess of Masks

Lore: A goddess who created the magical Masks of Power.

Backstory: Mask-Ra was first mentioned in 2019 and like, look, I’m gonna be real. I don’t respect her. She’s an invention of MOTUC (unless they were drawing on this concept art of Maska-Ra, which I doubt bc he was a Man-E-Faces precursor) and they retconned her into having created Catra’s mask, which is kind of redundant given the entire episode Magicats. This mask did not need two bios. There are no other mentions of her in any canon.

Potential other Masks of Power: The Deemos and Tyrella masks from the He-Man episode “Masks of Power”, lizard and canine masks from the mini-comic “Masks of Power”, Lord Masque’s Demon Mask from the He-Man episode “House of Shokoti, Part 1″, and whatever the hell Red Shadow has going on.

Procrustus, Giant Guardian of Magic

Lore: During the creation of the various dimensions (5 in MOTUC canon but demonstratably higher everywhere else), the gods installed the four-armed, immortal giant Procrustus to guard their secrets at the heart of Eternia. There lay the Starseed, from which the entire dimension was created. It still held immeasurable power, and could be used to conquer entire universes. Hordak, in an attempt to access the Starseed, cracked Eternia in two with the Spell of Separation. Though he was (mostly) thwarted, from then on Procrustus was forced to hold the two halves of Eternia together from within, lest the planet break apart and the Starseed be exposed.

Backstory: First appearing in the mini-comic “The Magic Stealer!”, Procrustus is a lot more tangible than most gods. We know where he is, at all times, and he seems confined to one size. His powers appear to be largely physical, as he had to burrow out of the ground to investigate in the mini-comic instead of teleporting or like, magicking the dirt away. This was his only appearance until MOTUC released a figure for him in 2012. He also showed up in the Subternia map the next year, holding Eternia together.

Standor, Cosmic Creator of Power

Lore: “Before time began, the great Gods of the multiverse convened in the Hall of Power to create all that was and all that will ever be. Head architect of this great task was Standor. A cosmic being of unlimited imagination, Standor helped lead his fellow deities by fueling their energies with raw creative force.”

Backstory: Released for Comikaze 2013 to celebrate the partnership of Mattel and Pow! Entertainment, Standor is literally just Stan Lee But a God. The prototype was called Standar--idk why they changed it, but I think it’s because it’s too easy to confuse with “Standard”. They made a bio for his sunglasses. I don’t want to talk about it.

Bash-Or, Slain Mystic God-Beast

Lore: Very little is known of Bash-Or, the Ram. His last remnant was sealed within the Ram Stone by the ancient sorceror kings of Zalesia, imbuing it with his divine power to overcome any barrier, magical or otherwise.

Backstory: Bash-Or was revealed in the bio for the Ram Stone, September of 2020, but his spirit (previously referred to as ‘the Spirit of the Ram Stone’) was twice utilized by Skeletor in the MYP cartoon, to great effect, before the stone was destroyed.

#she-ra #spop #motu #he-man #clare shares notes #edited to actually include the gd graph

[lizacstuff]

Top 5 Sçk funniest moments :D

My apologies for taking forever to answer this. Since I used Eda & Serkan jumping in the pool and Drunk Serkan on my favorite moments list, I won't include them here, even though they'd both be at the top of any funny moment list. Once again, ask me tomorrow and get a different answer. 

Serkan vs his car - Episode 1 - There are so many hilarious, laugh out loud moments in the first episode, it was hard to narrow it down. Serkan rolling down the window as Eda is vandalizing his car, Eda hitting the gas pedal and peeling out as Serkan tries to give her a remedial driving lesson for his high performance vehicle, tomatoes flying through the air as Eda tries to eat one-handed at the business meeting, Engin bringing an army of people to try and get them out of the cuffs, Eda finding that Serkan is her passenger on the private plane, Serkan introducing Eda as his fiancé to Selin and Ferit on the beach, the list goes on. However, I'm going to go with handcuffed Edser getting in the car, and specifically Serkan. 

The physical comedy here is perfection. It starts with Serkan realizing that their cuffs mean he can't drive. With, literally, one-hand tied, Serkan attempts to maneuver himself over the driver's seat of his compact sports car. It gets better and better, with the windshield wipers going crazy and Serkan's feet hitting the windshield, until he's finally settled in his seat.  The crowning moment, however, is when our Eda, elegantly settled into the driver's seat, gets the better of him by calmly retracting the convertible roof. It's absolute gold when arrogant Serkan realizes he could have done that in the first place and saved a bit of his dignity. This was pretty much the road map for how their relationship was going to go. One person creates drama, while the other calmly stands back and waits for them to finish. 

Drain the pool - Episode 4 

Isn't this everyone's favorite? It's hilarious at face value, but it's also meaningful because it was the first time we got to see Serkan get (irrationally) jealous. Which means it was one of the first real signs that Serkan had caught real and serious feels for his fake fiancé. 

For the laugh out loud part, Kerem and Alican were terrific. Seyfi's: "I thought you wouldn't ask." when Serkan tells him to sit down is forever one of my favorite moments. Then we get to see Serkan trying to work, him fidgeting as he picks up and sets down a book, and then finally his attempt to end the lesson only moments after it began. 

We already knew that things were starting to get real for Serkan in episode 3 when he got so angry and tried to freeze her out from touching his heart/soul, but this, this cemented it.  Because there wasn't any reason in the world for him to be jealous. The swim instructor was hired by Serkan. Eda was actually visibly disappointed that Serkan wasn't going to "teach" her to swim himself, so it wasn't like she rejected him for the guy. Eda invited him into the pool. The instructor wasn't hideous, I guess, but he also wasn't someone who would turn Eda's head. He also didn't flirt at all, like he knew Serkan hired him, he knew this was Serkan's fiancé and he knew Serkan was watching. It was all above board. But yet, Serkan, lost. his. damn. mind. If Serkan could lose it to the tune of trying to end the lesson and ordering Seyfi to drain the pool in this scenario it was a sure sign that he was way further gone than even he realized. Bonus Serkan's reaction to seeing Eda in her very cute, but also modest swimsuit. I mean it almost showed less skin than what she wears to work! Good times. 

Mountain Pervert - Episode 9

It's hard to quantify how much I love everything about their handcuff honeymoon at the Mountain House. The episode has it all, Eda's hypocritical tantrum about him handcuffing her, the sexual tension in the rain, Serkan doing everything in his power to get back in her good graces except the one, very easy thing that would have done it (a simple apology), Eda's joke about the world-renown architect who has a leaky roof (but seriously, Serkan, get a crew in there), not that I complain about the romantic bed-sharing that leaky roof led to, and of course the mountain pervert. 

Throughout the entire episode, Serkan was working every angle (except the easiest and most obvious) to get her to forgive him, so it was a little contrived that he got mad enough to take off on her, but I'll overlook it since it set up this hilarious scene. Obviously, once he left, he had to come back. We knew that, but apparently Eda didn't. How fortuitous for the visuals and our funny bones that Eda just happened to get soaking wet and just happened not to have any clothes there, so she just happened to be covered only by a flimsy bit of terry cloth wound around her nubile body.  I suppose it's a fitting punishment, though, for him having stalked off, that she impaired his vision to the point he wasn't actually able to have his mind blown by a mostly naked Eda. I have no idea what she sprayed him with, if it was an actual defense spray like mace, or something like hairspray, but in any case it would have stung. His comically pained reaction to whatever she sprayed into his eyes is wonderful. Great physical comedy from both Hande and Kerem. Serkan milking the situation to get Eda to continue to tend to his injuries was the icing on the cake.  Hamile - Episode 17

How good was Serkan mistakenly thinking Eda was pregnant with their child? I could do an entire post choosing the top 5 comedy moments just from this episode. Serkan's every interaction with mini-Serkan was delightful. Having no idea what food could fit in mini-Serkan's tiny mouth and down his tiny throat was hilarious, and showed exactly how inexperienced this highly educated man is when it comes to babies. Loved him giving the history of architecture and deciding mini-Serkan would be a businessman like him. 

His constant glances at her tummy region and insisting she eat healthier, both warmed my heart and tickled me. As did Ayfer and Aydan watching them through the window as they embodied the picture perfect young family, meanwhile our favorite broken-up couple had no idea why the mothers couldn't stop staring at them.  

However, if I have to pick one, the funniest moment was how it all began when Serkan, at a client's home, mistakes the client's pregnancy test for Eda's. The emotional journey that Serkan takes in the space of about 30 seconds results in a parade of exaggerated facial contortions and is a delight to behold. Kerem kills every second of it. Is there anyone better than Kerem at the incredulous: "NE!!!!!!!!!!!"  No, no there is not. He is king. 

To woo or not to woo - Episode 27

I don't think Chef Alexander has brought all that much to the show but all is forgiven because he was the catalyst for one of the funniest scenes in the series. 

His bumbling entrance into Serkan and Eda's engagement ceremony brought a whole new level of comic relief, we'll ignore that the man would have to be a dipshit to not understand how he could be misunderstood (on second thought, ChefA might be just that kind of dipshit) with the talk of wooing and making an offer.

Lots of amazing things crammed into this sequence. Aydan's never dimming rivalry with Ayfer, Serkan speaking English to get Chef to move it along, Ayfer telling him to make the offer to her mother, Eda insisting that it needs to go to her, Alex's request for Ayfer to come to him 2 nights a week, Serkan's disbelief (Kerem's adlib) that this was even an option, Eda threatening to hit him with the flowers and Aydan wondering if the rest of his nights were free (Neslihan's adlib). But the best part might be Ferit cracking up in the background. The whole scene is just pure joy. 

You know, after putting this together, I didn’t realize how much I appreciate Kerem’s comedic chops. He’s talented. 

#Sen Çal Kapımı #Sen Cal Kapimi #Edser #Serkan Bolat #Eda yildiz #sck meta #sckask #sck favorite moments #sck humor #sck 1x01 #sck 1x04 #sck 1x09 #sck 1x17 #sck 1x27 #asklizac #anonymous #edser discussion #sck favs #Anonymous

[elysian-entries]

One film, two visions; The Justice League

It’s 2017; the highly anticipated “Justice League” film, directed by Zack Snyder, is set to be released later in the year as a continuation of the DCEU.

A blockbuster movie showcasing the biggest DC characters uniting. Taking down the ultimate super villain; bound to fulfil millions of past and present children’s, as well as current adults and elderly dreams.

Then a fork in the road appears, Snyder and his wife, Deborah, step down from the colossal project due to the incredibly woeful loss of their daughter, Autumn. News hits the fans like a brick. Resulting in Joss Whedon and the Warner Bros. Studio stepping up to the mantle. Or at least attempting to.

Whedon's theatrical cut lost Warner Bros. Pictures approximately $60 million dollars. With overall painfully negative reviews and reception. Breaking the hearts of DC fans everywhere.

4 years, campaigns, hashtags, sky banners, petitions, and billboards later; I can’t say how many of us would have predicted receiving the holy gift that is the “Snyder Cut”, in its full 4 hour running time glory (in a 4:3 ratio, which somehow adds to the grandeur). 4 years of dedicated, passionate and determined people helping in any way they can for the cause. It was a journey to behold.

A large section in Snyder’s 4 hour venture is used to build dimension and depth in the characters. Making an absolute world of a difference. Something that was sorely lacking in Whedon's cut. The film had a completely different feel and atmosphere instantly.

There's no better example of increased depth in characters than Cyborg's (Ray Fisher's) narrative. I was engaged, and intrigued by his story. In Whedon’s cut, he isn't even given a second thought. His entire backstory was cut as well as his father's important role also being stripped. His scene where he sacrificed himself in order for them to find the mother box was gone. And it took away such an important, integral part in Cyborgs story, and in the film in general I believe and also realised having seen the two movies; the complicated but delicately developing relationship between father and son. And just the whole story in general made such a difference in Snyder's cut, it really is almost indescribable the difference it made. It just felt so much more genuine and heartfelt. Like a real developed and executed narrative.

In Snyder's cut we were shown detailed flashbacks that fully fleshed out his character, his morals and his relationships. Creating a much needed deeper connection with the audience. We experience his conflicting journey to accepting his responsibility, accepting the past, the "gift he has", and his purpose in the league. Leading into receiving closure. He was given great and meaningful importance and purpose in this cut.

Similarly, Ezra Miller's Flash was too given a largely more meaningful and impactful role that left quite the impression on me. His character was light-hearted and charming but still had those important, emotionally impactful scenes. Which were painfully lacking in Whedon's cut. I was left loving Barry Allen a lot more than I already did. Barry's scenes with his wrongly convicted father were hard hitting for me. They also play a large part in making later scenes more impactful. Like his detrimental importance during the final fight. In Whedon's cut his big hero moment was saving a Russian family. The overall the inclusion of the family was superfluous and extraneous, along with the robber at the start and many other things. Not only that but Whedon's cut gave the Flash a silly, attempted comical relief role. To be fair he attempted to give everybody a comical relief role. Which hardly worked because none of the attempts were actually funny and were at time agonizing. It ultimately lacked substance and came across as almost immature. The scene where Barry went on about brunch was painful. Leading me to ask, why? Why was this so important to film Whedon?

After re-watching Whedon’s version, I had gained a new found appreciation for Snyder's representation of Barry. '"Make your own future, make your own past"; he echoes his father’s words. "Your son really was one of them, the best of the best," as his theme "At the Speed of Force" plays in the background of this pivotal moment. A powerful scene reflecting Barry's ulterior motive, doing his father proud. Which invoked many tears. And still does whenever I re-watch the scene or listen to the song. As if it were the first time experiencing it. Thomas Holkenborg's soundtrack truly amplified emotion and made the scenes much more powerful, It makes for one of the absolute best scenes in the movie; I'd say one of, if not my absolute favourite.

His job in charging up Victor was completely removed and I have to wonder why. Instead Barry was left to participate in "bug duty" (bugs being one of his fears also). Barry's role in Snyder's cut, and that one incredible scene where he broke the rule was arguably better than Whedon's Justice League as a whole.

I think the only scene in Whedon's cut involving Barry that I thought was actually meaningful was where he was faced with his first real mission. And he was confronted with his fears of "obnoxiously tall" beings. He appeared anxious and frantic. Fearful. Communicating to us his inexperience. And Batman simply told him to just "save one". To which he then, without struggle, saved them all. And was also able to participate in the final battle. The "save one" scene made those achievements more meaningful.

The scene after they won the battle, showcases the victorious team standing proud; and Barry with a sweet, goofy, golden retriever-esque smile plastered on his face. What a loveable smile.

An interesting contrast is the scene in where Barry reveals to his father his new position at an “actual job”. In Snyder’s cut the father was absolutely over the moon, shouting at the top of his lungs, "his foot is in the door!" repeatedly in excitement. It tugged at my heart strings; his shameless pride in his son. Making me wonder how he would have shown his pride if he found out Barry saved the whole Earth and humanity. We can assume Barry had that unequivocally powerful underlying thought too. Contributing to his saccharine reaction. In Whedon’s cut the reaction was softer and more timid but nonetheless a sweet moment. Barry becoming bashful.

It was a sweet touch to have Cyborg and Flash finally fist bump during that victorious scene after Victor rejected Barry's initial advance in Whedon's cut. Ezra Miller improvising that “racially charged” line, acknowledging the possible racism attached to a fist bump I assume. The whole fist bumping being "racially charged" was not included in Snyder's cut. The grave digging scene was entirely different. Which I far more preferred. It was a group excursion. With a little positive interaction between the Atlantean and the Amazonian. And funnier, more light-hearted dialogue between Barry and Victor.

Aquaman’s contrast was interesting. In Whedon’s cut he actually sought out to obtain the trident to help the league (although he was always disagreeing with them). Compared to Snyder; where he was apprehensive and had to be hesitantly persuaded by Willem Dafoe’s character Vulko (who was completely absent from Whedon’s cut). This was also an importantly established relationship by Snyder. Arthur first makes his desire to help the the team known saving them from the water rushing from Gotham Harbour. He isn't acknowledged in the theatrical cut but in Snyder's cut Diana notices and takes a moment to take in his presence (I assume?). Then Barry asks who that guy is. And of course we all know, it's Aquaman.

I particularly liked how Snyder chose to include Barry asking for Arthur's opinion on military hats. It's an odd, minimalistic thing to include - the reasoning as to why I like it. I also thought it was quite charming.

A scene I think deserves a mention is when Aquaman is first introduced, and then rejects Bruce's offer, he then makes his way back into the ocean. A farewell song is performed. This was quite early in the film and I think the voices being hauntingly beautiful, yet slightly eerie/poignant set the perfect atmosphere. A well done scene.

His overall character was also contrasting. He became a genuine hero who was proved capable of more than water powers and silly moments. Including that god-awful lasso of truth scene. In the theatrical cut he was bitter, a bit of a joke, not caring too much about the events that were unfolding. He had more of a heroes’ sense of purpose within Snyder’s cut.

Gal Gadot did not gain too much from the extra scenes. Though different to the theatrical cut, Snyder had paired her with a repetitive character establishing theme. It could be referred to as ancient lamentation music. Hauntingly beautiful. Something I could only assume would be the battle cries of the Amazonian warriors and the Amazonian warrior inside Diana. In some ways possibly over used, though I thought it was brilliant. It has a special place in my heart because I love that type of soundtrack. The almost eerie, maybe poignant but overall emotion provoking type. Especially her introduction scene where she faces off against the terrorists )which was overall better in Snyder's cut) The haunting warrior moans fade into her classic theme to create an incredible atmosphere. And that atmosphere was definitely missing in Whedon's cut, in more than just that one scene. It was also sorely lacking the lamentation music. We also didn't get that sweet interaction between Diana and the little girl.

When Diana began detailing Steppenwolf and the mother boxes past to Bruce, the cuts were very strange and abrupt/awkward in some way. And it felt silly and rushed; and I think that perfectly describes the whole film.

Whedon's cut also included uncomfortable scenes. Almost forcing characters to be funny where it was just completely out of place and character. Or just downright inappropriate. To be fair, Whedon is known for the Marvel movies in which fourth wall dimension breaking and odd self ware/ironic jokes are heavily used. One of the main reasons I don't particularly enjoy them, but rather enjoy the darker, more meaningful DC movies. I say meaningful in the way in which we are completely transported into this universe; where it's taken seriously and has obvious effects and meaning to the characters. Compared to Whedon's Marvel films in which the threat is joked about and the characters make fun at their expense.

Another negative contrast is the colour grading and overall shots. A good example is the conversation between Lois Lane and Martha Kent. In Whedon's version the colour is poppy, reminiscent of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or The Office. As if it were an empty shell of a TV show. Lacking any artistic or symbolic aspects. Whereas Snyder's conversation between Martha Kent (who was actually Martian Manhunter) and Lois Lane was beautiful. The lighting was dim, with steam from their hot coffee creating a brilliant shot and conveying the perfect mood. Almost a piece of art. A lot of Snyder's cut looked as if it were ripped straight out of an incredible graphic novel. His talent when it comes to filmmaking is grandiloquent. Compared to Whedon's over saturated and flat scenes as if it were from a cliché sitcom.

Whedon also made the Justice League a lot more dysfunctional than it needed to be.

The scene where the team unanimously come up with the plan to revive Superman seemed really silly and lackluster in Whedon's cut. In Snyder's cut it was a genuine moment. A "wow" moment where the penny dropped. It gave me goose-bumps. The way it was implied, the explanation/analogy with the house, and then Cyborg creating a Superman visual as the team, standing around the table, stared at it in awe. All thinking the same thing. Without even having to say it (as Barry pointed out) It was a uniting moment. Whedon's version was just, disappointing. Lacking any impact at all. And it made the team seem disconnected in a way. Whereas in Snyder's scene the league's thoughts were in unison.

There was also an agonizing amount of Wonder Woman praise. I think praise is a...well...nicer way of putting it. It was more so adolescent boy humour, immature if you will; with her being the butt of the joke. To the point where it was little uncomfortable and borderline unnecessary. And to another point where Gal Gadot refused to do a scene, (the one where Flash lands on her) and Whedon insisted so much on still including it - that they used a body double. A scene so stupid and pointless it actually hurts. Why, Whedon?

Superman's main feature in this film is his moustache. Or, lack thereof. At the beginning of the theatrical cut, we witness the infamous Superman film scene, where we are introduced to his CGI moustache…then “Everybody Knows” by Sigrid plays as we see the aftermath of his death. I really enjoyed this scene, the song and the atmosphere. I think it was a strong start, setting the poignant mood. But of course it all goes out the window and downhill from here.

The biggest difference between the two Superman’s was the elimination of the godforsaken CGI removed moustache and the introduction to the “Recovery Suit” in Snyder's cut, which was a brilliant touch. We actually see Clark stumble upon the suit. A scene where various voices from his past, echo in his mind. An equally important and impactful scene; where he flied up into the universe, overlooking the Earth he is to protect.

I also really liked the whole, "Lois Lane is key" setup, with the eerie premonitions and glimpses into the “Knightmare”. Adding yet another deeper layer to the narrative. Setting the scene for Snyder's envisioned sequel.

In Whedon's cut during the first confrontation where Clark is confused immediately after his resurrection - the previous BvS battle is implemented more. With the "Do you bleed?" question being revisited. Giving us an unwanted closer look at the strange looking $3 million dollar CGI.

I liked Snyder's first confrontation better. It included more action and participation of all parties. And it was just a longer scene, making it seem more plausible and less silly. Before Clark reached Bruce he went through every member. Resulting in a little appreciated interaction between Arthur and Barry. I also thought Whedon’s scene showing Superman throwing Batman away like a ragdoll added to the ridiculous nature.

During the final battle. (Not mentioning how uncomfortable the colour grading was causing an unlikable atmosphere. Especially when it became daylight, taking away the exciting and intense atmosphere.) Whedon's Superman's entry was a little plain. Maybe cliché. Banging on about "truth" and "justice". Which isn't necessarily bad. It's just, maybe, too Superman? We then see the relieved faces of all the members. Batman's giddy smile was by far the best. It was nice to see genuine happiness and I think that played an important role in communicating to us Bruce's character arc. From lowest of lows, and his conflicting attitude towards Superman in BvS, to Superman giving him incredible hope. Though it slightly made me uncomfortable.

Snyder's entry of Superman was brutal in the best way. Appearing just before Cyborg was chopped to bits. Giving us that epic moment of 'He came.” Superman mercilessly rips into Steppenwolf for the next minute or two. No breakaways. Which was a great choice. It perfectly showcased his abilities. Though in the theatrical cut he was shown to be the only capable one of saving the world and being the real “hero”, in Snyder’s cut, especially The Flash, they were all shown to be powerful with meaningful parts to play.

Bruce Wayne appeared more guilty and conflicted about what happened in BvS in Whedon's cut. Though he was overshadowed in terms of writing by Superman and Wonder Woman. He also was the one who brought in the "big guns" a.k.a Lois Lane as a contingency plan in case the Superman resurrection went awry. In which it did. In Snyder's cut it was coincidence, or the doing of Man Hunter in that mysterious scene. Bruce was also quite tense and wasn’t too much a bright beacon of hope as he was in the Snyder cut. Even despite Snyder's vision of him being reminiscent and heavily inspired by Frank Millers version; darker, older, broken and violent in a way (which is brilliant) he still had this character arc. The lover’s tiff he suffered with Diana was irritating and what I thought was superfluous. Creating an unnecessary disconnect with the group. It wasn't an interesting sub-plot/complication at all .

Bruce's character arc (from the dark BvS time, to the hopeful present) was more thoroughly shown in Snyder’s cut compared to Whedon's. I briefly mentioned Bruce's schoolgirl grin when Superman arrived right on time. Though Snyder more effectively showcased this positive rise through his obviously increased in optimistic attitude. When the team are off the defeat Steppenwolf once and for all Alfred asks Bruce how he can be so sure of the Man of Steel’s arrival. And Bruce replies full of vigour, “Faith, Alfred, faith!” And in another instance Barry questions their strength against Steppenwolf due to the amount of demons he has won against. Bruce declares that, “He’s never fought us. Not us united.” It was a powerful statement that heavily elevated excitement for the final fight.

During this final fight, Batman basically goes out on a suicide mission. Then the rest of the league join him for a family reunion. The Snyder cut better represented this with an astounding freeze-frame, slow motion shot of the team. It nicely established the power of unity in this case.

The way in which Steppenwolf was defeated was vastly altered. Changed completely. Mostly due to Darkseid’s absence in the theatrical cut. Darkseid added an important extra layer of looming fear, and even gave Steppenwolf more depth. It gave him an important reason as to why he was doing what he wasy doing. As we saw his utter dedication to Darkseid. It alerted us of the larger dangers that were present. Steppenwolf’s death in Whedon’s cut was ultimately debilitated after seeing Snyder’s version. Instead of being anti-climactically eaten alive by his bug minions as the sun rose; (maybe it’s a personal preference but I heavily dislike the daylight, especially for action scenes) his head was chopped off, first horn by horn, then from the neck. His decapitated head thrusted back through the portal into his own world, landing at the horrifying Darkseid's feet, along with the terrifying parademons. Engulfed by a fiery hellscape. The horror that Earth could have faced. But still could face. It reveals the deeper and darker enemy, beyong Steppenwolf looming just beneath the surface.

A sinister tune plays, as we see the victorious Justice League looking back at them. The portal then closes. Although a victory, we can’t help but wonder what the demonic and powerful entities, far more powerful than Steppenwolf, have in store for Earth’s future.

The Knightmare vision being apart of that future. It's set up from BvS to the very end of Justice League. It's a very intriguing part of Snyder’s vision. The moment where you can link up and see the connections between all the post-credit scenes and the “premonitions” is an epiphanic moment. It’s a whole other narrative on its own that you can analyse, hypothesize and discuss. It’s a very intriguing/exciting concept to think of what would have been Snyder’s future movie where Barry (as we saw previously reverse time) goes back to warn Bruce that “Lois Lane is the key”, to avoid the whole disastrous scenario. We can gather that he is referencing what we see at the end of Snyder's cut, Superman turned evil. The death of Lois Lane, whose skeleton we saw Superman cradle previously, we can assume had a hand in that, and possibly the Anti-Life equation too. It's an incredible narrative, and there are few things I would love more than seeing the Snyderverse come to life on this epic scale again.

We also finally get a glimpse of Snyder’s joker. A very exciting moment for me. Seeing any new iteration of the Joker is an exciting moment. Could Jared Leto somehow redeem himself?

Well, it sure was infinitely times better than the Suicide Squad rendition. This Joker was actually eerie and unsettling. I felt almost uneasy watching these scenes, and his odd laugh caused shivers to form down my spine. Jokers comments about “boy wonder”, whom we find out was indeed Bruce’s adoptive son, were heartbreaking (I believe he was actually referring to Dick instead of Jason surprisingly as his grave was once seen in a previous movie) Leaving me holding my breath, wondering what Bruce would say next, or what other wretched thing Joker could say. Of course the "reach around" comment was a bit off, but I’ll just brush over that.

We also learnt of Arthur Curry’s death, Harley Quinn’s death. Proving that Snyder had such a colossal plans for all the characters, dead and alive.

It’s a poignant feeling; to see this incredible, vast narrative, just beneath the surface, unfold. Knowing that we won’t be able to see it fully developed. As of now.

While watching these two completely different cuts of the same movie; it occurred to me and I am sure many other people, that attempting to produce such an in depth narrative intensive movie on the small scale that Whedon attempted, will commonly end in a painful, empty and superficial representation. Or maybe that really was just Whedon's vision.

As the epilogue ended, the credits rolled. Hallelujah began playing, sung by Allison Crowe. And as they rolled, in big letters the words; "For Autumn" took center focus. White against black. Clear as day. Like a bus, it hit hard. The reason I was sitting on that couch finally having the great honour to watch such a film. The courage it must have taken to continue and finish such a project is beyond admirable, it's heroic. Also non-profit. It only further proves what we already knew, that the intentions were pure, as no one ever doubted.

Also acknowledging the giant billboard on one of the buildings promoting the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. A very important cause, especially to the Snyder’s. To date fans have raised over half a million dollars to the AFSP in honour of Autumn. A truly incredible feat.

When looking at the two movies side by side, it blows my mind to see the difference that I do. The emotion, meaning, the depth. It all just made sense in Snyder's cut. The emotion was palpable, absolutley unmistakable. Things mattered more. The people mattered more. There were reasons, and purpose. It was a genuine journey for every one of the characters, and I felt it. There were so many little scenes that made so much difference that added depth and meaning, emotion.

And I cannot say such words for Whedon, though I won’t put all the blame on him. Warner Bros. is about equally responsible. .

The true, original and intended Justice League; expatiated heroes, people, stories and journeys coming together on a grandiose scale, executed with passion and care. But also giving us a bittersweet taste of Snyder’s epic trilogy that could have been.

The end of the saga; and the rest of Snyder’s visions, are left unfulfilled; as of now. But regardless, remains as one of the things I hope to see come to life. Watching this movie, and the feeling I had during and afterward is indescribable. I want to say a massive congratulations to Zack Snyder. The film was beyond breathtaking. It really is so special and it will forever have an important place in my heart.

Though I think the most important thing to take away from the Snyder's incredible work is Autumn's story.

Thank you Zack Snyder.

For Autumn.

www.imdb.com/title/tt12361974/

#ezra miller #aquaman #the flash #wonder woman #justice league #gal gadot #review #opinion #analysis #the snyder cut #dceu #movie #zack snyder #superman #henry cavill #ben affleck #jason mamoa #the joker #joker #jared leto #movie review #film #compare #dc comics #dceu spoilers #snyder cut #long reads #long post #cinema

[sxveme-2]

blueberry pancakes // bucky barnes

MASTERLIST

Description: A single mother. Juggling being a mom, a full time pediatrician, and a difficult ex who believed now would be the best time to finally be a father. A soldier ripped out of time. Ex-assassin turned superhero. Learning how to balance a new domestic life with handling demons of his past, while facing the trials of the future. a love story began over something as simple as chocolate chip pancakes with hidden blueberries.

Disclaimer: I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else

Status: Edited

Note: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.

Chapter Fourteen: The One With Her Brother

Warnings: Mention of childbirth

Word Count: 2644

The cool air around the waiting room shrouded a twelve-year-old blonde by the name of Lily Osborne. Wrapped in her cardigan-covered arms was a five-year-old Rose, the younger sister of the eldest Osborne. Just to the right of her sat two conservative grandparents, only moments away from learning if their third grandchild from their daughter would be a girl or boy. So far, the two had only been gifted with granddaughters, two from their other son William, and two from their daughter, Alicia, the mother of the two girls awaiting their newest sibling. Lily had already been through the grief of a new sibling with the little girl that sat in her arms, but it sadly didn't transfer over to the second blonde born from Alicia and Abel Osborne.

The small creek of a door just beside the many uncomfortable chairs stationed behind a small half wall and all four of the family member’s blonde heads popped up. Lo and behold though, it was merely a group of nurses seemingly leaving from their shift. Four collective sighs created harmony throughout the robin egg blue maternity wing waiting room. A heavier head leaned back onto her shoulder and Lily placed a gentle kiss on the bright blonde curls that sat atop of Rose's young head like a mop. Glancing down, Lily saw her little sister’s eyes flutter shut and she let out a gentle sigh, running her fingers up and down the child's thin arms. Just moments later, however, the doors opened once again and a panting Abel Osborne came shooting out with a bright smile plastered on his rugged features.

"Do you guys want to come to meet your new baby brother?"

-----

For as long as Lily could remember, being Cedar's older sister was one of her most sacred pride of joys. Or just being an older sister in general. Especially being so much older than the younger two. Her parents were amazing, sure, and they always did their best with raising the three children. But when it came down to more personal issues and handling things like bullying, friends, or middle school, Lily was their go-to. And she cherished that fact. It was like having her own child, but without a majority of the responsibilities, the mother faced. It helped scratch that maternal itch Lily had since a baby.

Whenever her parents weren't able to, Lily walked Rose and Cedar to school. She was even his emergency contact for high school after their parents, same with Rose. when Cedar began high school, Lily was in her last year of university before beginning med school and handling a one-year-old baby boy and an unhelpful husband, she travelled down to Long Island with Hunter, and joined Cedar for his orientation day when their parents were on a business trip. Everyone thought she was his mother, and the two made a bit of a joke out of it.

Just below a year before that, when Lily and Scott were scrambling together a wedding, it was Cedar who had helped her choose a wedding dress that made her feel beautiful, even while she was four months along in her pregnancy. She was tempted to try and convince Scott to elope, feeling as though she wouldn't find a dress that gave her that moment that made her face light up when she saw herself in the mirror. Luckily, Cedar helped her achieve it.

-----

She didn't want to go, really. It was the last place on earth that Lily wanted to be. Every morning when she looked in the mirror she felt huge. She thought her thighs were getting too big. That her cheeks were getting larger and she felt puffy. All because of the beautiful life growing inside of her. It wasn't her fault. She was four months along in the pregnancy she was handling at the age of 22, all while planning a fairly rushed and impromptu wedding to the father of her unborn child. Even though, if she would admit it to herself, she knew deep down this wouldn't work, and that he wasn't good for her. But she'd never say it out loud.

But today, well, today she just felt awful.

Today was the day that she would be picking a wedding dress. After a whole week of yelling at Lily, her fiancé, Scott, managed to get her to drop the idea of eloping, and instead, funnelling money into a wedding. On top of handling pregnancy and her last year of university. Lily had originally planned to handle this feat alone, feeling self-conscious about having anyone else there. But with her parents and brother now living in her basement, with her brother staying with them over the summer before he would go back to Long Island and stay with his grandparents until Lily gave birth, and their parents would move back home, well...her brother was the only one she couldn't get to stay at her home when she went out.

The boy had just turned 11 and was a pretty stereotypical pubescent boy. But with a much closer relationship with his sister than most kids with the age gap that the two had. Lily depended a great deal on her relationships with her siblings, for she never really talked or even spent time with girls or boys her age outside of school when she was younger. Of course, moving to New York City and over the past few years, she had expanded her bubble.

As the youngest and oldest Osborne sibling arrived at the quaint wedding dress shop in Soho, Lily wished to turn around and avoid any sort of questions about the growing bump that was prevalent on her stomach. Being at this store was the last place Lily wanted to be spending her Saturday afternoon. But alas, the tug of a boy’s hand on her sleeve persuaded the blonde to enter the shop alongside him.

After answering dreadful pregnancy questions from the shop owner, Lily had found the dress. But her hands cupped the growing belly of hers, and those green eyes grew sad as she looked in the mirror. The dress was a spaghetti strap, heart-shaped neckline, lace flower decals dancing across the organza type material, and sliding from her waist in an a-line style. it was loose, flowing, and hid any real evidence of a pregnancy. But Lily knew. She knew what was growing inside of her. What she would look like within two months when the wedding would be taking place. Her stomach even more swollen.

Cedar slowly stood from the couch and walked towards his older sister, taking her hand and looking up at her with the eyes that made Lily realize just how lucky she was. And with a shy nod towards the owner, Lily had found her dress. All thanks to the young blonde boy she called a brother. And those soft eyes.

-----

Ten years later, the two were still as close as ever. Or so she believed. He stood at her wedding party at her and Scott’s wedding when she was twenty-two. He was there when she gave birth to Hunter. God, she remembered the day she went into labour so vividly. And the boy who had informed her distracted parents, and who pushed through the labour alongside his sister, before the actual birth began. She remembered that day so vividly.

-----

Her hand gripped onto the pen she was using to take notes from her online lecture. Being the top student so far in her first year at Medical School had its perks. The professor's offered her online lectures and videos, while she handled the pregnancy. Her brother and parents had taken over the basement, as they came down from Long Island to take care of their daughter, who was very obviously in a neglectful marriage. The cool winds of November whispered secret thoughts to Lily, the window of her office allowing them in.

As Lily went to finish off a note about the fetus in a woman growing, her own decision to take a different approach. A popping deep within her set off a relay of gasps as water trickled down her leg, staining the loose dress she wore over top of her swollen stomach. her hand smacked itself across her lips as a small squeak escaped from her throat. A pair of footsteps ran themselves into the office, catching Lily's eyes as he spotted the water dripping down onto the floor.

"Mom! Dad! Start the car! Lily's water broke!" Cedar exclaimed, holding onto his sister’s hand. The same hand he'd be holding for the next few hours.

—————

Maybe it was the feelings of betrayal that hit Lily the hardest. Before her then sat one of the most important people in her life, handcuffed to a table, waiting to be interrogated by police officers for attempting to break into her ex-husband’s apartment where her child sat, scared to death of the somewhat familiar tone of voice. Or it may have been the disgust that churned deep within her stomach as she came to the realization this was not the same sweet and innocent boy she had last seen a mere few weeks ago when visiting her parents. A boisterous and somewhat playful smile far gone from his face that was now carved full of deep stress lines, with bruises evident on the thin skin below his eyes. This wasn't Cedar Osborne. This was a mere shell of him.

"Sir there must be some sort of mistake," Lily laughed softly, gesturing towards the glass, "That's my brother he would...he would never hurt my son or try to. He's a nice kid how would he—"

"Ms. Osborne, I know this is a shock but this is the man that was caught trying to break into your ex-husband’s apartment." The detective said in a calm tone, "He confessed to it. We just can't get any evidence as to why he may have done it out of him...which is why we called you."

Lily stared at the man in front of her. Her crossed arms dropped to her sides as a look of pure shock took over her previous exasperated and confused face. He wanted her to interrogate her own brother? Try and get him to confess information about a crime he tried to commit against her son. Why Lily wanted nothing more than to smack the living daylights out of the police officer. But then again nowadays she has had this happen often.

"You did not just ask me that!?" Lily exclaimed, "He is my brother, and I know my brother, officer. There has to be a mistake. There has to be! And until you figure out what that is I will not be questioning the same boy that sat by my side at my son’s birth when my husband wouldn't. He is not capable of this. My son is the most important thing to that man and you dare think that he would scare him?" Lily exclaimed, chest heaving.

The officer fell silent. The look in his eyes said it all: he knew this woman wouldn't be interrogating this man. With a curt nod, the police officer spread his arm to guide Lily from the room. Her shoulders moved up and down at a rapid pace as she stormed from the building, her heart racing inside of her chest and pounding in her ears so loudly she couldn't even hear the loud noises from the New York streets. Typically, Lily would wait for an opportunity to cross the sidewalk to her car, but today, she bulldozed through the group of people, fumbling for her keys. The moment the ignition turned on, the tears fell.

The tears ran down her face non-stop as she drove through the streets of New York. Sobs wracked her body as she continued to shake. Lily had no way of comprehending the fact that her own brother was the culprit arrested for attempting to break into her ex-husbands home. Sure it was known that the entire family had a distaste towards Scott Harvey, but the Osborne's were a far from violent family. Docile and subservient almost. It was only when Lily pulled into her driveway when a memory fell on her like a ton of bricks.

-----

'Here Comes Santa Clause' played over the speakers as the Osborne family bustled around the cozy home of Lily's parents’ home. Children played and adults laughed over wine as the previously mentioned woman and her brother slaved away in front of the stove as they prepared Christmas dinner. The two quietly chatted while working on their respective side dish, patiently waiting for the turkey in the oven to finish so they can begin to eat.

"Hey, how's work been going for you?" Lily hummed, working her arm as she continued to mash potatoes.

"Oh yeah," Cedar responded in a gentle tone, "I actually just left the company." he continued, failing to elaborate to Lily as to why on earth he would have left the job as an electrician at a power company that supplied most of Long Island's power.

"Really?" the eldest Osborne huffed, halting her movements and turning to her younger brother, "What happened to your dream of being an electrician?" she wondered, head tilting to the side a bit.

"Offered a different job, better pay," he stated abruptly, turning his back to Lily as he finished mashing the yams that he had been working on.

"I see...where are you now?"

"Dinner's ready!" Cedar yelled, ignoring his sister’s question and pulling the freshly finished turkey from the oven.

-----

Lily felt her heart sink as she recounted the events of the Christmas that had just passed close to a year ago. Her hand slapped itself over her mouth as she came to the realization that her sweet and innocent brother may have very well found himself in a sticky situation. Her mind ran to the worst place she could think of...what if he was working for a hitman agency? No that couldn't be right. HE may be sneaky but Cedar wouldn't be capable of murder.

Shaking her head, Lily pulled her hair back from her face and allowed her breathing to regulate itself once more. God, she felt like everything she knew to be normal was crumbling around her. Everything that she had become accustomed to was falling to pieces and there was nothing she could even do about it. If Cedar was getting invested in solicit and illegal activities, Lily knew she would be the last person he would admit it to. The two had a relationship based on kindness and loyalty...and it broke the blonde's heart, the idea of her baby brother falling into the traps of something horrible.

Stepping from the car, the cool and brisk air of the season chilled the raging heat the flared in Lily's face. Locking her car, the young mother unlocked her front door to hear music playing and the dog going wild. Furrowing her eyebrows and stepping out of her shoes, the blonde made her way down the hall towards the living room where the loud noises were coming from. When she rounded the corner, the sight made all of the pain and sorrow she was just wallowing in mere moments ago fade into distant memories.

Hunter was stationed on Bucky's back as they flailed around to an outdated Justin Bieber song that the blonde boy sang at the top of his lungs, igniting the howls of Joey. With a giggle, Lily dropped her coat and bag and made her way towards the pair, joining in on the singing and dancing. For once, Lily allowed herself to step away from the burden of anxiety and enjoy the moment in front of her.

Her eyes locked with Bucky and she knew, that maybe, just maybe, things could work out.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female oc #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fluff #original female character #female oc #OC #oc tag #oc x canon #marvel #marvel fanfiction #the winter soldier #the avengers #fanfiction #fanfic #tfatws #single mom #sebastian stan #fluffy #romance #comedy #james bucky barnes

[letterboxd]

We Bought a Cryptozoo.

As their kaleidoscopic new film Cryptozoo lands in theaters, filmmakers Dash Shaw and Jane Samborski talk to Jack Moulton about misguided compassion, the beholder’s share, Akira, Watership Down and life imitating art.

“Occasionally we watch a horror movie together, but I like to do things while I watch and Dash wants the lights down. We spend so much time together working so when it comes time to relax, I want to be as far away from him as possible.” —Jane Samborski

“Jurassic Park on acid.” This is the mystical world of Cryptozoo, the new film from personal and professional couple Jane Samborski and Dash Shaw. Cryptozoo takes place in a 1960s hippie society where mythological beings—griffins, krakens, unicorns, gorgons and the like, collectively known as cryptids—live among humans, though unhappily, since people have a habit of hunting them down.

We meet Lauren (voiced by Lake Bell), a protector of cryptids, on a mission to rescue a baku—a Japanese supernatural creature that devours dreams—from the military, who plan to weaponize its powers. However, in collecting all the cryptids into a sanctuary that feels more like a mall (echoes of Disney’s Epcot are plainly hinted at), the cryptozookeepers begin to realize that those they’re trying to safeguard are likely better off without their assistance.

Loaded with clear allegories for xenophobia and colonialism, Cryptozoo has proven both a hit and a miss among Letterboxd members with the nature of its metaphors, even if we can all agree it absolutely skewers white-people-savior complexes. Shaw and Samborski placed careful focus on the casting, for example, enlisting Greek actress Angeliki Papoulia to portray Phoebe, a Medusa-esque character from Greek mythology, who assists Lauren in her journey to locate the baku, and provides an essential perspective and critique on Lauren’s overzealous activism.

Steeped in detailed and surreal world-building, the kaleidoscopic, hand-drawn approach can become pure sensory overload. More than a few of our members felt compelled to light up first and check it out again if it ever hits Adult Swim. But among those happy to be overwhelmed, Andrew found himself “captivated by its tactile imagery; its texture and sketch and color, the full-body chills and immense sense of self—it is beautiful and passionate.”

Cryptozoo premiered earlier this year at Sundance, where it picked up the NEXT Innovator Award for its makers. (Although only Shaw is credited as director, Cryptozoo uses an ‘A Film By’ credit to emphasize Samborski’s visionary contribution as animation director.) The couple had previously collaborated on Shaw’s debut feature, My Entire High School Sinking into the Sea, which is much more of a roughly sketched-out daydream, whereas Cryptozoo represents a more serious shift, and a step up in ambition and craft.

Making films is far from Shaw’s only enterprise. After graduating from the School of Visual Arts in Manhattan, he has written comic books, graphic novels, lyrics and plays. Meanwhile, Samborski has appeared in several films as an actress, and lent her animation skills to productions including Netflix’s Thirteen Reasons Why. Among their animation influences, the pair have mentioned the films of Ralph Bakshi, Suzan Pitt’s Asparagus, René Laloux’s Fantastic Planet, Takeshi Tamiya’s Astroboy and the century-old films of Winsor McCay and Lotte Reiniger (especially The Adventures of Prince Achmed).

Shaw and Samborski sat down with Jack Moulton for a chat about expanding the scale of their work, life imitating art, the “heft and violence of Watership Down” and the best comic-book film ever made.

‘Cryptozoo’ director Dash Shaw and animation director Jane Samborski.

What stuck out to me when I finished the film was your ‘A Film By’ credit; it wasn’t just Dash, it had Jane’s name as well. How were the directing responsibilities divided in order to explain that credit? Dash Shaw: It just felt like the most accurate way to describe the movie.

Jane Samborski: I make a lot of the decisions about character acting and I’m taking the voices and using them to inform my understanding about the characters. In some cases, I was able to use video reference of the actors, but most of their physical mannerisms are coming from my brain, so in that way I’m taking a directorial role. While there’s a huge amount of the aesthetic direction that’s coming from me, Dash is definitely the one steering the overall ship. There were a few instances in the film where I got a little off-message and he pulled me back.

DS: Maybe it’s even more confusing with animated movies because people are doing a lot of different things, so when it comes to crediting we talk about what we think makes the most sense. We could have written our names on the backgrounds to try and figure out who drew what, but it just seemed like a film by the both of us.

JS: Everything is by us, except this thing, and this thing, and this thing…

What I found really interesting about the film is the way that all the characters are so fallible. It demonstrates how an egocentric allyship can do more harm than good. Why was it important for you to explore that idea of misguided compassion? DS: I think that that happened while trying to do something else. I had seen this Winsor McCay short, The Centaurs, and I wanted to write something Jane would enjoy painting. My first idea was about mythological beings, and then the next idea was that they were from actual mythologies in our culture and instead of being a fantasy world, they’re in our world.

That is when my mind went to these things that you talked about, like museums attempting to take imaginations from all over different cultures and introduce them to the public, and how that often damages the power of those artworks. There’s definitely a Cryptozoo movie that could’ve been made by a different person that didn’t get into any of this stuff, but because of my personality, those things ended up being embedded in the script.

You embraced the opportunity to utilize thin lines in Cryptozoo, as opposed to the thicker lines of My Entire High School Sinking into the Sea, which opens up what you can achieve cinematically. Can you talk about expanding that scale and how that may have approached your limitations? JS: It definitely was one of the first aesthetic decisions that was made in the film. There’s a broad simplicity to High School Sinking, so we wanted to zero in on fewer but more specific drawings. I was doing quite a bit of minor puppet work, especially in the latter parts of High School Sinking. I really love working in that way, so this was a match that played to an aesthetic that I responded to for a long time. It was logistically a lot more difficult as it’s very hard to turn in space with a puppet, so there were definitely times where we would run up against a problem and then throw out our rulebook and do cell animation. But I think that is the joy of setting up your own rules—you keep them as long as they’re useful to you.

Your film acknowledges very early on that “utopias never work out”. On the other hand, perhaps utopias never work out in movies because they’re just not dramatically interesting to explore when they succeed. What are your thoughts on sculpting a utopia in commercialized fiction? DS: You kind of know that it’s going to fail as soon as the movie starts. It’s a good fall. I find utopian art very inspiring and beautiful and that’s what I like about a lot of the art of the 1960s. I would not put this movie up against that imagery.

JS: Yeah, a utopia is certainly something we all want to experience but not necessarily something we want to hear a story about.

DS: That’s something that’s famously said about what’s really powerful about early seasons of Star Trek, and seeing all of these different people working together.

I imagine it was strange to be working on Cryptozoo for so many years, and then you have a storming-the-capital scene in your film, which premiered at Sundance only a couple of weeks after it happened in the real world (for very different reasons). How did that make you feel regarding the film’s timing? JS: It was a bit of a freak out!

DS: It was strange, even if we didn’t have that line in our movie, just to see that going on. It made me think of this art school thing, the “beholder’s share”, where the artists make 80 percent of the work in their time and place, and then the last twenty percent is completed in the viewer’s mind, in their own time and their place. You have to love that hand-off.

JS: The world changed so much over the course of making the film. Dash wrote the film before Trump was elected President. We started out with a script that we thought was talking about really interesting things that felt a little bit further away. As we worked on the project, it got closer and more real, so we just hoped that we were able to talk about it with honesty. The project feels like something larger than us and that’s really exciting.

When you look at some of the reactions, you can see how it’s really easy for audiences to dismiss the movie as too weird, but I do feel there are many accessible and mainstream elements to the plot. What are your instincts for playing in and out of the comfort zone? DS: One of my first ideas for wanting to make animated movies is that they would have a pop-art quality. They would be blockbuster movies that have been defamiliarized—they’ve been messed up, disorientated, changed, altered in some way. High School Sinking is like Titanic, and Cryptozoo is like Jurassic Park. There’s a blockbuster movie inside of them, but we keep veering away or disrupting it in some way that might make it seem stranger. It was right there as one of the first missions of making these films.

JS: I feel very differently. I love the experimental stuff, but if there wasn’t a clear story through-line, I would get bored. It’s the perennial music-video problem—it’s all gloss and no heft. So we have that clear action-adventure storyline to pull you through this crazy ride. We feel differently about what it’s doing for the audience, but it seems to be working, whichever one of us is right!

Are there any hidden or background details in the animation that you’re concerned people will miss? JS: For me, if somebody felt that there was so much going on that they wanted to watch it two or three times and they found something new each time, that would be the best thing ever. The idea that I would be able to make something that is worth multiple viewings far outstrips worrying that somebody is going to miss something I did.

What was the film that made you want to become a filmmaker? DS: I wonder if Jane is going to say Watership Down…

JS: I am! That was my favorite movie as a child. I liked to torture my friends with it. It’s particularly that segment right at the beginning when they tell the myth of El-Ahrairah—it’s so expressive and less representational, but it also has this heft and violence. It was definitely the first adult animated film that I saw. My parents wouldn’t buy it for me because it was at the local library, so we’d rent it again and again and I’d watch that beginning segment over and over and it would get scratchier and scratchier, so eventually the VHS just snapped from me watching it so many times.

DS: I would have to really dive deep to come up with a really good answer to that but for some reason the one that pops into my head right now is Todd Haynes’ Poison. I saw it at the School of Visual Arts. Poison felt like a collage movie with three different parts that kept pulling a special combination of ingredients. It felt like an art film and it also had very overt genre elements that were being used in an unusual way. It was one of the key movies to me that had a great independent spirit.

El-Ahrairah faces a challenge in the prologue to ‘Watership Down’ (1978).

What animated films have you seen recently that blew you away? DS: I want to plug an incredible movie we just saw at the Annecy International Animation Film Festival, Bubble Bath, which is a restored Hungarian film from 1980. I hope it will get a US release.

JS: We were also lucky enough to see an exhibit [at Annecy] for Michel Ocelot. I had seen the Kirikou films, which are phenomenal. I really like his work.

Do you have any movies that you often watch together? DS: We really don’t watch movies together. I wish she would watch movies with me!

JS: Occasionally we watch a horror movie together, but I like to do things while I watch and Dash wants the lights down. We spend so much time together working so when it comes time to relax, I want to be as far away from him as possible.

DS: I’m really glad we saw Bubble Bath together.

JS: That one was just amazing.

You’re a comic book writer, Dash. What’s the greatest comic-book movie ever? DS: Akira.

JS: Yeah, hands down.

Related content

Our animation correspondents Kambole Campell and Alicia Haddick in conversation about the 2021 Annecy International Animation Film Festival

Letterboxd’s Top 100 Animated Feature Films, a list by Rahat Ahmed

Vulture’s The 100 Sequences that Shaped Animation list on Letterboxd

Follow Jack on Letterboxd

‘Cryptozoo’ is currently screening in select US theaters.

#cryptozoo #animation #animated film #dash shaw #jane samborski #ralph bakshi #psychedelic animation #2d animation #hand-drawn #hand-drawn animation #letterboxd

[songfell-ut]

Chapter 3, still a-comin’

Cirumstances, am I right, folks?

If you didn’t make it through Chapter 2 or this is all 100% new, welp, this is a continuation of this comic by @lostmypotatoes, after which Frisk has gotten him to be her witchly apprentice, but now he’s trying to flake on her. ACTION

Sans was getting soft in his old age, or maybe from proximity to someone as aggressively good-hearted as the High Priestess, because he found he didn't want to demolish the entire wall. For one thing, without his magic, it'd be too much effort. More importantly, though, Frisk's rooms were many, many stories above the ground, and falling masonry could kill or injure someone below who hadn't earned it. Most important of all: Frisk would probably end up trying to help dig them out and put herself in danger.

He also figured that he had time to do things neatly and cost her less in repairs. Everything had been loosened by that first colossal blow, but he had to give it a few more whacks before he could start pulling it apart, making a pile of glass shards, wood paneling, bricks and stones in front of her office. Luckily, whoever had constructed the outside wall hadn't done a great job, or else it would've taken him all night. A carefully judged body-slam was enough to weaken the remaining support structures; a few kicks and a yank created a space big enough for the giant skeleton to squeeze through, and then he could see the barrier itself.

Panting, Sans took a moment to survey his handiwork. It sucked to exert himself like that, but he figured that sometimes in life, you just had to punch things until they broke.

Unfortunately, he didn't have that option with the barrier. The old stories came back to him as he stared at the golden latticework hovering outside the ruined wall. How was he going to get through without touching it directly or throwing something big enough to hurt someone below?

His eyes fell on the worktable and the vials of stuff he'd made this afternoon. Four hadn't been infused yet. Sans grabbed one, pulled off the cork and, with a speck of magic, willed the liquid to boil, burn, dissolve anything it touched. It promptly began to fizzle and hiss in his hand, and he had to fling it away like an idiot before it started eating through his metacarpals.

He did one thing right in throwing it at the barrier, which instantly melted and let the chilly night air wash over him. Outside, moonlight shadowed the bricks of a nearby wall that stretched almost all the way to the ground, ending in the roof of a building only a couple stories high. He could hop out, grab onto the brick edifice, climb down safely and be gone before Frisk even got back up here, never mind moving the statue and getting the doors open. From there, it'd only be a matter of time before his magic regenerated and he could take a shortcut home.

Poor Frisk. She'd tried. Hell, she'd survived his murder attempts and taught him a few things, and he'd never forget her.

Anyway, she was better off losing track of him and finding a smaller, tamer monster to work with. What was she even getting from him being here, besides a hell of a lot of trouble?

The question was supposed to be rhetorical, but as if in reply, he thought of Frisk standing at the worktable with her arm up those ridiculously oversized trousers, grinning and saying, "The pleasure of your company," looking up at him like...well, like he was her friend, not an inferior or a dangerous monster or a giant pain in the ass, pun absolutely intended. Of course, it wasn't as if she had many other friends, but he couldn't tell himself that she was just using a captive freak to keep her company; he already knew her too well for that.

This, right here. This was why he needed to leave now. The skeleton took a few steps back, gauging the distance to—

Whhhsh went something in his mental ear. He jerked around to see Frisk standing half in his shadow, half in the moonlight, with her veil in her hand and absolute murder in her eye. "Sans." It was a whisper, lost in the wind.

Shit fuck shit shit shiiiiiiit fuckity fuck SHIT rang in his head as the satchel hit the floor. "Frisk?" he whispered.

Frisk beckoned him closer with one finger. Unbelieving, he knelt, and she punched him so hard that he almost felt it. "Here is what's going happen," she said as he touched his jaw. "I assume you've blocked the doors, so you will go and unblock them, and I'll tell the guard that you were—we'll say you were fighting off an assassin, and everyone will be impressed when they see how much damage you did trying to kill him before he escaped. Won't they?"

Sans nodded helplessly. "How...how'd you...?"

"How did I get here?" She tossed the veil aside, letting it drift to the floor. "Let me tell you a story, Sans. Once upon a time – yesterday morning – I had a long talk with Dr. Serif. He said you probably didn't intend to stay for a whole month, and I needed to be on my guard, just in case you decided to pull a stunt like this. I didn't want to believe him, but I followed his advice, and lo and behold, less than a week later, I caught my lying, backstabbing apprentice trying to break his word because he was apparently too bored with me to waste time learning crucial information for the survival of his entire race! The end!"

Frisk had to pause for breath. The boss monster took great exception to that last accusation, and he doubted that was actually the end of the story, but he was afraid to interrupt. "Do you see this?" she continued. Sans flinched as the tiny woman ripped off her brooch and brandished it at him. "Dr. Serif brought it yesterday afternoon. It seems he'd taken some of your magic while you were unconscious, and not only did he refuse to return it to you, he said I couldn't be here every hour of the day, and I needed to have this if you ever tried to break loose. He infused it with enough of your power to teleport myself one time." Another deep breath. "Do you have any idea how angry I am that he was right, and I was right to listen? And do you know how sick to my stomach I feel right now?!" Frisk threw the brooch to the floor, where it shattered. The last bit of magic quietly evaporated, and she pressed the back of her hand to her lips, eyes unfocusing. "And...how do you stand—"

There it was. He couldn't believe it had taken this long to catch up with her—the first time he'd tried using a shortcut, it left him feeling like his head had been screwed on backwards.

The skeleton glanced at the open, crumbling wall, then at Frisk, who was leaning heavily on the worktable, eyes closed. Then...

The priestess squeaked as Sans swept her up into the crook of his arm and headed to the bathroom. "Put me down!" she croaked, thumping his clavicle.

"Yes, m'lady," he said, opening the door, poking the light on and placing her at the very back of the room. "Go for it."

Once she was settled and could puke in relative peace, Sans went to the double doors leading into the hall, replaced the statue in its niche, and headed back to the workroom. Her office door was blocked by the many chunks of wall piled in front of it, and moving them again would take effort, so the skeleton ignored it for now. He picked up the satchel and set it on the worktable, wondering if the wind was too cold for her and how, exactly, he was going to pay for this, in every sense of the word. After one more look outside, Sans made himself tiptoe back to the bathroom and ask, "You done?"

There was a pause, the sound of water running, and a much longer pause before she opened the door and stared up at him. "What are you still doing here?" she demanded.

Sans blinked at her, mostly for effect. "'Zat a trick question? I'm makin' sure you're okay. That magic can knock you on your ass the first couple times ya try it."

Her face tightened, a hard, bitter expression that probably shouldn't have surprised him. "You don't say." She turned her head to cough, resting her forehead on the tile wall. "Congratulations to you, Sans. I'm here, but I'm in no condition to do anything. Your plan worked after all." She pushed herself upright.  "Good night."

Shit. "Uh...Frisk—"

The priestess walked right by to open the double doors. He heard her exclaim something about the guard not being there, and mutter that she'd deal with it in the morning. She barred the doors shut, which he hadn't even noticed was an option, and wobbled past him into her dressing room, evading his halfhearted attempt to steady her.

Hangers rattled. There was an occasional sniffle. When Frisk came out in a long crushed-velvet robe, she actually looked offended to see him. "Don't you have somewhere to be? I said good night, Sans."

Wasn't she going to at least try to stop him? Sure, she was sick and exhausted, but where was her determination? ...Was she so upset that she was determined to cut her losses and let him go?

That really seemed to be it. Well, Sans should have been elated, but he mostly just felt insulted. Besides, he couldn't leave until they got a few things straight, or else he'd spend the rest of his life trying not to think about it. The boss monster wracked his brain for a witty yet conciliatory opener, but what came out was "You're not boring."

A blast of wind howled through the room, flipping the lighter books open and ruffling the weighed-down stacks of paper. Frisk remained stock-still as her short, wavy hair fluttered across her face. "I beg your pardon," she said, colder than the autumn air.

"Okay, yeah, I admit it. I was gonna ditch ya," he said desperately. "But it wasn't 'cause I don't like you or I don' care about helping the other monsters. I—you remember all you heard about Papyrus, right?" Her expression softened a little as she nodded. "I had a dream about him last night that I'm pretty sure was real. Me bein' gone and him not knowin' I'm okay is killing him, Frisk. I can't..."

She stayed silent as Sans pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. It had been so long since he'd told someone the entire truth that he felt completely exposed. It was scary as hell, but he owed it to her and to Pap. "Ya gotta understand," he mumbled. "My brother's all I got left, and I'm all he's got. You've been nothin' but fair to me, and it's not yer fault there's no real way t'contact 'im. I just...I can't go a whole month without lettin' him know I'll be home soon, and I can't dream at him with yer barrier up." He sat down with his legs crossed, staring at the floor. "I spend too much damn time away as it is. He never knows for sure if I'm comin' back."

Frisk swallowed. "Why didn't you tell me sooner how important this was to you? And what do you mean, 'dream at him'?"

"I didn't bother 'cause you might'a thought I was lying to make you feel sorry fer me. I know I wouldn't trust me." The skeleton jerked his head at the ruined wall. "What I mean is, I can talk to Pap while we're both dreamin', but you wouldn't be there to hear what we were saying. I could tell him all sorts of crap, like how strong the High Priestess is and how much safer it'd be for us monsters if she was dead."

The priestess was silent again. Sans risked a glance in time to see her reach up to sweep her hair behind her ear, only to yelp in pain. Sure enough, as she raised her hand to inspect it, the outside knuckle was red and swollen. "Augh! How did I not notice this?" Frisk tried to move it and had to stifle another exclamation. "Wonderful. If it hurts this much, I must have broken it." She made an incoherent noise and started toward the rack of finished potions on the worktable.

Sans dimly recalled that humans didn't feel as much pain when they were scared or excited, and that it could catch up to them pretty fast. It also occurred to him that it was a bad idea for a small human to hit a thick-headed skeleton with her bare hand. "What are you doin'?" he wanted to know. "You can heal that up in a jiffy."

"I can't heal myself," she said brusquely. "I'm not very adept at healing to begin with, and I can't make it work on me at all."

That couldn't be right. "Ya mean to tell me you're good enough to hold me off and keep me penned in for days with no magic, but—"

"Leave me alone."

Her voice was so quiet and furious that he stopped dead. But as she picked a vial and started to pull the cork out with her teeth, Sans got up and held his own hand out. "Lemme see."

With as much dignity as she could muster, Frisk closed her mouth and handed him the vial. He put it back impatiently and beckoned again. "Not that, dummy. Yer hand."

The priestess gave him a long, eloquent look. When he didn't move, she placed her broken hand in his huge one, wincing as his thumb closed lightly over her wrist. It was hard to remember how to turn his magic green, but she'd been right about intentions: it helped to think about how badly he wanted it to work, not only to help her, but to prove that he was capable of fixing things as well as destroying them.

Sure enough, within seconds, his palm began to glow as if he held a handful of emeralds. When Sans could bring himself to let her go, she flexed it easily. "You've gotten some magic back already," she observed. Frisk smiled at him for a moment, and he couldn't not smile back. "You know," she said, anger rapidly resurfacing, "you're not only a lying reprobate, you are a huge idiot." She rapped her knuckles on his palm. "I've always had a barrier guarding the bedroom from any external magic. If that was the only thing keeping you from reaching Papyrus, you should have asked me to remove it."

Sans sat down again. "But—"

"As for the possibility of giving him illicit information, I will ask you this only once." Frisk moved closer, looking him square in the sockets. "Do you intend to tell the other monsters, at any point, that your race would be better off with me dead?"

He didn't even have to think about it before he answered, "Not anymore. You're pretty damn useful as you are, speakin' up on our behalf to the other humans. I don't see anyone pressuring you into screwin' us over."

A brief smile. "I'm glad to hear it. For my part, I don't mind letting you talk to your brother as long as you take me with you. I'd love to say hello—I've heard so much about him that it'll be like meeting an old friend." She stifled a yawn. "If you start tattling on me in some fashion, I can always pull the barrier back up."

"...You want me to...bring you...in my dream?" Blink. Blink. "But how—what're you gonna—"

"One thing at a time, Sans. First, we're going to bed."

"We're what now?"

"If you're not leaving yet, then we're going to bed, now. This mess can wait till morning." With a nod at her blocked office door, Frisk motioned for him to follow her into the bedroom. "Come along. There's nowhere else for me to sleep, and I'm freezing."

And so it was that Sans found himself lying rigid on the huge feather mattress, the priestess curled up like a cat in the armchair. He had no idea why he was so nervous; he couldn't even muster a semi-joke about her joining him in bed. "I've heard of this spell before," said Frisk, who seemed unperturbed by their proximity. "It's not very complicated. You've just healed me, and I've recently used some of your magic, so we have enough of a connection that I should be able to find you once we're asleep. ...The key word being sleep, Sans. You have to relax. I'm not going to eat you, no matter how short-sighted and dishonorable you've been."

"You're not gonna let that go, are ya?" he mumbled.

"You have no idea. We haven't even talked about repairing the wall yet." Her voice warmed again. "For now, though, don't worry about it. We need to find Papyrus and set you both at ease."

Now Sans felt nervous and extremely weird again. He turned onto his side so she couldn't see him changing color.  "'Kay. I...yeah. Thanks."

"Of course," she said, as though it was the most natural thing in the world to do a favor for someone who had completely betrayed her trust, and turned off the witchlight. He felt her raise another barrier at the bedroom door, one solid enough to stop an army, and a thinner barrier disappeared from behind the headboard. "There," she said in the darkness. "We'll see how well this works. Go to sleep, Sans."

That seemed unlikely, but he'd forgotten who he was dealing with. When about ten minutes had passed and the orange light of his eyes was still going strong, something wonderful started creeping up on him, a soothing vibration that spread through every bone in his body before he even knew what he was hearing. It was Frisk humming, of course, and of course it worked; Sans was more than content to let the sound and her presence lull him to sleep.

~

He jerked upright as something hit his skull, reflexively swatting the air and yelling, "Piss off!"

The lights were back on. In fact, it was full daylight, or what passed for it. Sans rubbed his eye sockets, turning this way and that. He was still in bed, but the bed stood alone in the middle of an open, snowy field. Kid monsters were racing back and forth under gaily decorated trees, throwing snowballs at each other and catching him in the crossfire.

The skeleton brushed himself off, reasoning that the Underground could be a weird place, but it wasn't quite random-snow-bed weird. This must be a dream, then. Damn it...

Oh, well. At least it was a nice one, and it felt pretty real—his good dreams tended to be fuzzy, while every single one of his nightmares was incredibly vivid.

Footsteps crunched on the snow behind him. "Well, hello there. That was simple," said Frisk, looking around them as he got up. She was in her plush robe and bare feet, but seemed at ease. "So this is Snowdin. Which house is yours?"

"BROTHER?"

Sans froze as a familiar shape emerged from a nearby fog of ice crystals. "Papyrus?" he whispered.

"I KNEW IIIIIT—OOF!" Papyrus had run to give his brother a bear hug and fell straight through him, as if Sans was also made of fog. "WHAT IS THIS, SANS? HAVE YOU BECOME TOO LAZY TO STAY SOLID?" he accused him from the ground.

"It's a dream, bro. This happens every damn time," the boss monster said wearily. "Just keep it together and listen, okay? I'm here t'let you know—"

"WAIT. A HUMAN? IS THAT...KRIS?" Papyrus was staring up at Frisk, his face somehow creased in puzzlement. "IS IT REALLY YOU? I THOUGHT YOU'D BE...KRIS-ER, NYEH."

Sans snorted. "Not every human is Kris, Pap. Don't be racist."

"Hello," Frisk said, offering a bright smile and a hand up. "My name is Frisk. It's wonderful to meet you, Papyrus."

"YES, IT IS. NYEH-HEH-HEH! YOU ARE CLEARLY VERY WISE AND ATTRACTIVE, HUMAN!" Papyrus brushed the snow from his fake armor, throwing his red scarf back over his shoulder in so dramatic a fashion that he didn't notice Frisk grinning, though Sans sure did. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY GREAT AND ATTRACTIVE DREAM?" he added.

Still smiling, Frisk watched the pack of young monsters run by. The monsters didn't seem to notice them, though the bed was still there and her purple robe stood out like a dark beacon against the snow. "Your brother wanted to see you, and I decided to come along," she explained. "Sans was captured by humans about a week ago when he was out looking for food, but please don't worry about—"

"CAPTURED?!" Papyrus clapped both hands to his skull. "THIS IS TERRIBLE! PLEASE DE-CAPTURE HIM IMMEDIATELY, HUMAN, OR ELSE I...I...!"

"Pap! Take it easy. She's okay. 'Fact, she's the reason I ain't dead or enslaved right now." Sans plucked at his shirt. "See, she even got me some new duds. You can finally stop bitching about what I'm wearin'."

Papyrus stopped flailing long enough to examine Sans' shirt. "NYEH! I SEE NO HOLES OR QUESTIONABLE STAINS. WHAT SORCERY IS THIS?"

Sans smirked, letting his brother poke at him in vain. "I told ya, bro, I just got it. You don't hafta rip me apart like this."

Frisk rocked back and forth on her heels. "So," she said over Papyrus' exasperated groaning, "I gather you knew a boy named Kris from the last human delegation. Is that right?"

"YES, IT IS RIGHT! KRIS WAS OUR DEAR FRIEND," Papyrus said as Sans grimaced and turned away. "WE WENT FOR WALKS AND HAD SLEEPOVERS, AND MADE HAND PUPPETS THAT ALSO HAD SLEEPOVERS. IT WAS LIKE HAVING A CUTE LITTLE PET THAT CLEANED UP AFTER ITSELF. WE'VE ALL MISSED HIM VERY MUCH, NYEHHH."

"Yeah, he left with the other humans," Sans muttered. "Can we please move on now?"

"Yes, of course. I'm going to borrow your brother for a few more weeks," Frisk told Papyrus. The latter was glaring at his brother's new shirt again, as if daring it to make a false move. "I have a plan to start making peace between monsters and humans," she continued, "but I need a monster's help to do it. Can you get along without Sans until I send him back to the Underground?"

"HMMMM." Papyrus straightened, one hand on his chin. "YOU WON'T HURT HIM?" he asked, sounding almost timid.

"Absolutely not, Papyrus," she said firmly. "He'll be back safe and sound."

Papyrus nodded, evidently impressed by her sincerity. "I AM IMPRESSED BY YOUR SINCERITY, HUMAN. IF THIS DREAM IS NOT MY MAGNIFICENT IMAGINATION PLAYING TRICKS ON ME AGAIN, THEN I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, SHALL SPARE MY GOOD-FOR-NOTHING BROTHER FOR A LITTLE WHILE LONGER. NYEH-HEH-HEH!" Without warning, the skeleton grabbed at Sans' wrist bones. "HUMAN! I WOULD LIKE TO TALK TO MY BROTHER IN SECRET FOR A MOMENT, IF YOU WILL PLEASE EXCUSE US. IT WILL BE SECRET!"

"Of course," said Frisk. "I'll be right here. Just make sure it's not too secret, please."

Sans covered his face with his hand as Papyrus marched toward the fog bank, still holding his brother's imaginary wrist. "Ya can't touch me, remember?" Sans called after him.

"...I KNEW THAT. CONGRATULATIONS, BROTHER! YOU HAVE PASSED THIS TEST! NYEH. ...HEH." Papyrus waited for Sans to join him, and they walked towards the river. "ARE YOU SURE THAT'S NOT KRIS?" the younger skeleton asked doubtfully.

Sans laughed, jerking his thumb in Frisk's direction. "Does that human look like a sixteen-ish-year-old boy?"

"HMM. NO, IT LOOKS LIKE A HUMAN. BUT! IT SEEMS DELIGHTFUL! THE GREAT PAPYRUS THINKS YOU SHOULD BRING IT BACK HERE WITH YOU. IT'S BEEN TOO LONG SINCE WE HAD A HUMAN TO PILLOW-FIGHT WITH, NYEH-HEH-HEH."

"That's probably not a great idea," Sans remarked.

"NYEH-HEH! WHY NOT?"

"I could spend literally the rest of the night tellin' you all the reasons why not, but the biggest one is that she's the High Priestess, Pap. The other humans would definitely notice if she was gone."

"HIGH PRIESTESS?" Papyrus cocked his head in perplexity. "WHY WOULD A DELIGHTFUL HUMAN BE A HIGH PRIESTESS? DON'T THEY CREATE BARRIERS?"

"It's complicated, bro. Look, I've gotta go soon. Is there anything else you wanna say?"

His younger brother paused, and sighed, shoulders slumping. "SANS. WERE YOU REALLY JUST LOOKING FOR FOOD? WHEN YOU GOT CAUGHT, I MEAN."

The bigger skeleton tried to kick a chunk of ice into the water, his foot passing right through it. "I wasn't slaughtering humans, if that's what you're askin'. I was mostly tryin' to track down monsters who've been sold off recently. But I did want to see how the humans' harvest turned out, an' it looks like it was pretty good this year."

Papyrus nodded, still troubled. "ALL RIGHT, BROTHER. I UNDERSTAND. PLEASE, JUST...TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF. NYEH."

"You too, Pap." Sans felt a familiar stab of trepidation and backed away. "Shit, I've got a nightmare coming. I'll see ya soon, okay? Don't tell anyone about Frisk!"

He had to turn and run before Papyrus could answer. Frisk was sitting on the bed in the snow field, ducking snowballs. She turned and started to say, "I hope you weren't telling on m—"

"No more dream! End it now!" he panted.

The priestess didn't waste time asking stupid questions. As the nightmare nipped at Sans' heel, Frisk made a quick swiping gesture, and just like that, he was back in bed, in the bedroom, staring at the sun-washed ceiling.

The skeleton sighed in relief. He rested his forearm across his eyes. Between the radius and ulna, he could see the flickering shadows of birds flying past the open windows. "Thanks, kiddo," he said, "an' thanks for lettin' me talk to him. I really appreciate it." Sans scratched the top of his skull, rolling over to face Frisk. "So, how'd you like Papyrus? He's a cool guy, huh?"

Frisk didn't answer, because she wasn't there. A strange human child sat in the armchair, perched on the edge of the seat, holding a kitchen knife. It stared at him with red-shining eyes, teeth bared in a horrible grin.

If Sans had had more than a shred of magic left, he would have pulled all his blasters at once and obliterated half the building. As it was, he jerked back, nearly choking in terror. The child wasn't moving, but menace radiated off it like heat from a furnace, eyes boring into him as its grin widened. Sans looked around wildly for an escape. The windows were too small, but maybe he could—

A sharp whistle split the air. The barrier snapped on, and the child vanished.

Sans was sitting upright in bed again, in the dark, awake, panting as though he'd run a mile in a few seconds. "Sans, I am so sorry!" The light snapped on. Frisk stood at his bedside, wide-eyed, clutching the neck of her robe. "I didn't think I was going to have that nightmare again before we woke up! I thought it'd be fine, I—" She took a step onto the bed, leaning over to grab his humerus. "Sans? Sans! Please say something!"

He shook her off, and she stumbled backwards, falling into the armchair. "What the fuck was that?" he rasped.

Frisk sat up and pulled her robe tighter around her shoulders. "I'm sorry," she said again. "I should have warned you. It's the reason I have that barrier up in the first place." She swallowed hard. "It shouldn't happen again."

"It better not," Sans snarled. "What the hell was that thing, anyway?"

"I don't know." She looked so miserable that Sans wanted to smack himself, but he was too unnerved to lie and tell her that it was okay; he was shaking so hard that he could almost hear his bones rattle.

For a solid minute, the only other sound in the room was the wind blowing outside the shuttered windows. "I hope you had a good talk with Papyrus," Frisk said presently with a decent attempt at calmness, placing her palm on the bedroom door to dissolve the thick barrier. "I can see why everyone likes him so much. It's good to know he hasn't changed."

The skeleton grunted, hoping she was smart enough not to ask him any questions about him changing. "Yeah. Thanks for fixin' that up for us. Sorry I pushed you just now."

"It's fine. It was an accident." Frisk fiddled with the key in its lock. "You know, Sans, I'd like you to help repair the damage you caused, but...if you still want to leave, I won't stop you. I wasn't thinking of how much it was to ask, staying an entire month."

Sans stared at her. She wouldn't turn around. Finally, he said, "What the crap, lady? You already let me talk to Pap. That was the whole reason I tried to bust out of here. Why wouldn't I stick around 'n make it up to you? Ya really think I'm that bad?"

There came a soft knock at the door, startling them both. "Your Eminence?" It was a male voice, deep and pleasant. "Are you awake, my lady? Please forgive my intrusion, but His Holiness urgently requests your presence."

Daylight was showing through the closed shutters. "Yes, of course. I'll be there in a moment," said Frisk, running her fingers through her hair, eye twitching as she found a tangle.

Sans watched her, and watched her move to unlock the door, feeling a different sort of unease. "Wait a sec," he rumbled. "Frisk, wait. Didn't you bar the big doors last night? How'd he get—"

The man knocked again. "Just a moment," Frisk repeated, turning the key. She glanced behind her. "What, Sans?"

The door banged open. Before she could blink, a stranger in tattered clothes rushed in, his arm raised to strike.

The boss monster was already moving. The man lunged, and there was a sound of steel hitting bone; the priestess found herself staring at the tip of a knife, inches from her face, jutting from between massive skeletal fingers. "Sans!" cried Frisk, twisting around to look at him.

Red clouded Sans' vision, but one clear spot remained: with his free hand, he reached out, corralled Frisk and gently maneuvered her behind him, fingers forming a protective cage. The other hand flexed briefly, then backhanded the intruder so hard that the man rolled clear out of the bedroom, hitting the worktable with a crack and a thump.

The skeleton clamped his teeth on the dagger's hilt and pried the blade out from between his knuckles, jerking his head to fling it to the other side of the bedroom. There was technically nothing to pierce where the knife had been lodged, but it still stung. He glanced down to be sure Frisk was unscathed, then edged forward into the workroom.

To his great irritation, the man wasn't dead; he was not only conscious, but pulling himself up on the table. "Who the fuck are you?" demanded Sans. Only the vague awareness that Frisk was watching kept him from grabbing the guy and pinching his head off.

The stranger wiped the corner of his mouth on his sleeve, squinting against Sans' literal glare. He was gaunt and generally gross-looking, but had moved fast enough and aimed the knife with enough skill to peg him as a professional killer. "What's a big-ass talkin' skeleton doing here? They said you got sold off already!" The assassin laughed shakily. "So it was you bashin' that wall down! What the hell'd you even do that for? It took me all goddamn night to get out!"

Sans glanced at the office door, which was ajar. Several pieces of broken masonry had been moved out of the way by shoving the door repeatedly from the inside. The guy must have snuck into the office after Frisk left, while Sans was in the bedroom but before he blocked the entrance, and gotten trapped in his hiding place by all the debris piled against it.

It would have been kind of funny, except that if Sans really had left, Frisk would be dead now.

The young woman was leaning on Sans' femur, peering around his outspread fingers. He could feel her trembling, which only intensified his urge to kill something. "I know you," she said. "You spoke to me after a service last week. You said I...I..."

"Had a positively angelic voice?" The man leered at her, showing several broken teeth. "S'truth. But I needed to be sure 'xactly who you were. The last High Priestess used body doubles sometimes." He looked her up and down. "Gotta say, I like yours a lot better."

She shuddered. Sans leaned down, not taking his now-flaming eyes from the assassin. "You need this piece of crap alive, Frisk, or can I take 'im apart now?"

"Frisk?" The man cackled, slapping the worktable with a dirty palm. "That's your real name, lady? That's gotta be the dumbest—"

And just like that, he launched himself at Frisk, closing the distance and ducking between Sans' legs like a snake. He whipped another knife out from his belt and would have sliced her neck open if Sans hadn't been ready to nudge her out of the way, grabbing the assassin on the backswing and slamming him against the open door.

Before Frisk could react, Sans turned his head to the opposite wall and said, "Holy crap, what's that?" As she whirled around, Sans plucked the knife out of the man's hand and gave him one squeeze, very quick and very hard. "Whoops, my bad. Nothin' there," he said to cover the sound of ribs breaking.

The priestess started to turn back. "Stay where you are," Sans ordered, pulling the assassin out of her line of sight, stepping into the workroom and closing the door behind him. "Oh, no you don't," he said loudly, as if chasing the man down. "Nooo, stop! We just want to talk to...oh, no!"

The assassin didn't seem to appreciate the theatrics, especially because Sans was carrying him straight to the broken wall. Ignoring the man's feeble protests, the skeleton drew his arm back and murmured, "Now think about what you've done, pal," before tossing him out into the open air.

His only concern was that the bastard would make a lot of noise on the way down, but it seemed he'd knocked the wind out of him, ha. By the time Frisk peeked out of the bedroom, the assassin was long gone.

Sans shook his head and turned from the opening. "Nope. Sorry, I couldn't catch him before he told us who sent him." He wished he had his jacket; his hands had nowhere to go. "You all right, Frisk?"

The priestess gulped and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "No, I'm not." She slid down, back to the wall, and wrapped her arms around her knees.

She didn't seem be physically hurt, so for the moment, he said, "'Kay," and stared at the slightly open office door. "Son of a bitch. I'm gonna tear that guard a new one. D'you think he knew you were sleepin' in there, or was it just a convenient...place to...crap."

Frisk's shoulders had hunched and her face gone pale. Sans ground his teeth, cursing his stupidity. "Well, it's over. He won't bother you again," he reassured her, coming to kneel beside her. "At least that cover story 'bout the assassin ain't a lie now. Right?"

She didn't look reassured at all. With the threat of bodily harm removed, Sans was out of his element again, with no clue how to help her. Should he frame this as an inconvenient but probably solvable problem that she'd always known might come up? No, that would be dumb. She already had enough problems. She didn't need to worry about more shitheads getting in here to hurt her. As long as she was an important and politically vocal person, it wasn't like she could do much to...

Wait. That was it: Sans had the idea. "Actually, ya know what?" He waited for her to shake her head. "You were sayin' this weird stuff about me leaving once I'd seen Pap. Before we talk about that, I gotta ask, what's the going rate for a bodyguard around here? A good one, not just some moron following you around tryin' to look scary."

She bit her lip, a habit Sans had noticed and been distracted by several times already. "Um...it depends. A skilled full-time personal guard? Anywhere from fifty to a hundred dinar—"

"Oh, nice. I can probably—"

"—an hour. I only sleep a few hours a night, so..." Frisk gave him the ghost of a smile. "If you're offering your services, Sans, I'd be glad to accept. Would a salary of one thousand per diem be acceptable?"

Now he really was at a loss for words. "A thousand a friggin' day?" he repeated blankly.

Frisk nodded. Her shock seemed to be fading as she thought aloud: "You could pay for your clothes in one day, and I can negotiate the repairs down to about ten days' worth. After that, well, wheat is about five dinar a bushel." Despite herself, she sniffled again. "You could buy a lot of wheat, or beans, or...or wedding cakes, or literally anything else you want to take Underground with you."

He was patting himself on the back when, without warning, Frisk's smile faded. "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you before I unlocked the door." Sniff. "Thank you for staying with me." Sniff. "And thank you for saving my life."

Shit shit was as far as Sans got before he lost even that bit of coherence. His senses were already heightened by the unexpected danger, his SOUL still feeling a little queasy at how close she'd come to dying right in front of him; to cap it off with Frisk looking up at him like this with big eyes, messy hair, and her robe falling off her shoulder was more than he could handle. She never looked bad, but right now, damn.

Sans didn't realize he was reaching for her until his fingertip brushed her cheek, toying with a wavy lock of hair. "Don't mention it," he said gruffly. "'s the least I can do."

Frisk pulled away, face flushing, but only in momentary surprise. He devoutly hoped that she'd get up and go get dressed, or maybe pack her things, buy a fast horse and leave the kingdom forever, but that damnable woman didn't know any better than to smile and take his hand, or at least rest her hand in the space between two of his fingers. "Just so long as you keep in mind that you're still my apprentice," she said with mock sternness. "Do you promise?"

Fffffffff

Neither of them understood what happened next. Sans felt something welling up that made him want to grab her and...he didn't know what would happen next, but he wanted it so badly that he backed away in sudden alarm. All he knew was that this feeling – this energy – had to go somewhere, and if he directed it at her, he could accidentally mash her into paste. The only thing he could think of was to whip around, look for something else to latch onto, and focus his attention on the pile of stones, etc. by the office.

His magic was barely available, or so he would have said a minute ago. Fueled by the whatever-it-was, though, and with the barrier gone from one of the walls, Sans didn't even have to think about it: Frisk jumped back as the heap of debris by her office began to glow red, rising into the air and flying into the broken wall. To their mutual astonishment, the outside bricks and internal structures zipped back into place first, followed by more bricks, mortar, stone, wood, and finally the glass and lead of the windows. When the dust settled, the entire facade had been imperfectly but almost entirely restored, the floor sagging under the windows.

Sans stared at his hand, still breathing heavily. "Huh," he said by way of explanation.

"Indeed." Frisk absently ran her fingers through her hair again, working out a tangle as she examined the wall. "Did I know you could do that?"

"I didn't know I could do that." Now that the unfamiliar energy was gone, Sans found he wanted to sit down. He sat down next to her, comfortably but not dangerously close. "Welp, I need a break from life," he said, which got a laugh out of her. He snorted. "Break. I actually didn't mean that one."

Frisk gave a long, long sigh. "We'll knock down your fee to three or four days of repairs," she said gravely.

Sans couldn't help grinning. "I always knew there was mortar life than money."

She kept a straight face until he added, "Makin' it pretty again is gonna be a pane in the glass," whereupon she broke out in hysterical, snorting laughter, which cracked him up in turn and guaranteed a minutes-long feedback loop.

As nice as this all was, Sans was a little concerned when he got under control and she kept going, and going, and ended up nearly gasping for breath. "You okay, kid?" he asked. "Ya need some water?"

"Oh, Lord," she wheezed. Frisk wiped her eyes on her already-damp sleeve. "Sans, you're killing me."

Silence. Frisk thought about it, and promptly buried her head as far between her knees as she could get it. "I didn't do that on purpose," she said, muffled and sheepish.

Sans shifted his weight. He wasn't ready to admit to himself how badly the whole attack had scared him, much less to her. Just to check, he considered escaping again – maybe once she was letting him walk around with her outside and his magic was naturally restored – and now, less than twelve hours after doing his damndest at it, he couldn't believe how much he hated the idea. No problem, really; he could chalk it up to her letting him connect with Papyrus and needing to make it up to her. Also, holy shit, one thousand dinar every day for the next twenty-five days? That was as solid a set of reasons as he'd ever come up with.

"Well," he finally said. "Guess you'd better get yer scary witch dress on and go tell everyone about this whole mess." He snapped his fingers, making an odd click, as something occurred to him. That's right—I got both those knives off him. Maybe someone can take a look at 'em and figure out who he was, where they were from."

Frisk raised her head, staring into space. "No," she said, as if to herself. The boss monster looked askance, and she smiled in a small, nasty way he hadn't seen before. "We won't say anything." The smile grew. "I'll go about my day as if nothing happened, except I'll be accompanied everywhere by a ten-foot skeleton. Whoever set him after me will have no idea what happened, and it'll drive them absolutely mad. We can see if anyone incriminates themselves, but...ohh, I'm going to enjoy this."

"It's a neat idea, but the garbage threw itself out already, remember?" Sans indicated the repaired wall. "Someone's bound to notice 'im."

The young woman did a remarkable impression of shock and distress, eyes wide and mouth hanging open before she murmured, "That poor man jumped from such a height? What a hideous tragedy. Peace be upon his soul and those of his loved ones."

"Daaaamn" was all Sans could say. He might have killed the guy and covered it up, but he couldn't look that cute telling a bare-ass lie! Also... "Ain't you a priestess? Isn't that a little...?"

Frisk scowled. Despite her bedhead and furry robe, she was the very image of sternness and, yes, determination. "I was taught that it is my duty to aid the weak and be an instrument of justice against people who, for example, want to stab me in my own bedroom when I've done nothing to harm them. It's no sin to protect yourself."

The skeleton shrugged, holding his hands out. "Okay, that's enough. I think I love ya. Where do I sign up to kill people for you?"

The priestess laughed. "I bet you say that to every girl you try to escape from. And, please, don't kill anyone." She glanced at the clock, and her amusement melted into panic. "Dirt! I have matins in twenty minutes!" She sprang to her feet and made a beeline for her dressing room. "Can you please find my veil for me?" she called before she shut the door.

Sans also got up, muttering, "'Dirt'? Seriously?" as he retrieved the veil from where it had blown onto the table. As an afterthought, he returned to the bedroom and picked up the assassin's daggers. He studied them, saying out loud, "I think I'm screwed, is what I am," then placed them on the nightstand.

He heard Frisk emerge from her dressing room and went to meet her as she asked, "Sans, do you have my—"

He handed the veil over. "Thank you, sir." She threw the veil over her head and adjusted the headdress over it. "May I assume that you haven't been to many religious services?"

"Er..."

"Well, we have an oral contract, effective immediately, and I am going to church, so you are going to church." She inclined her head, moving toward the double doors. "Follow me."

And, of course, he did.

#frans #onwards aoshima

[recentanimenews]

ESSAY: Berserk's Journey of Acceptance Over 30 Years of Fandom

  My descent into anime fandom began in the '90s, and just as watching Neon Genesis Evangelion caused my first revelation that cartoons could be art, reading Berserk gave me the same realization about comics. The news of Kentaro Miura’s death, who passed on May 6, has been emotionally complicated for me, as it's the first time a celebrity's death has hit truly close to home. In addition to being the lynchpin for several important personal revelations, Berserk is one of the longest-lasting works I’ve followed and that I must suddenly bid farewell to after existing alongside it for two-thirds of my life.

  Berserk is a monolith not only for anime and manga, but also fantasy literature, video games, you name it. It might be one of the single most influential works of the ‘80s — on a level similar to Blade Runner — to a degree where it’s difficult to imagine what the world might look like without it, and the generations of creators the series inspired.

  Although not the first, Guts is the prototypical large sword anime boy: Final Fantasy VII's Cloud Strife, Siegfried/Nightmare from Soulcalibur, and Black Clover's Asta are all links in the same chain, with other series like Dark Souls and Claymore taking clear inspiration from Berserk. But even deeper than that, the three-character dynamic between Guts, Griffith, and Casca, the monster designs, the grotesque violence, Miura’s image of hell — all of them can be spotted in countless pieces of media across the globe.

  Despite this, it just doesn’t seem like people talk about it very much. For over 20 years, Berserk has stood among the critical pantheon for both anime and manga, but it doesn’t spur conversations in the same way as Neon Genesis Evangelion, Akira, or Dragon Ball Z still do today. Its graphic depictions certainly represent a barrier to entry much higher than even the aforementioned company. 

    Seeing the internet exude sympathy and fond reminiscing about Berserk was immensely validating and has been my single most therapeutic experience online. Moreso, it reminded me that the fans have always been there. And even looking into it, Berserk is the single best-selling property in the 35-year history of Dark Horse. My feeling is that Berserk just has something about it that reaches deep into you and gets stuck there.

  I recall introducing one of my housemates to Berserk a few years ago — a person with all the intelligence and personal drive to both work on cancer research at Stanford while pursuing his own MD and maintaining a level of physical fitness that was frankly unreasonable for the hours that he kept. He was NOT in any way analytical about the media he consumed, but watching him sitting on the floor turning all his considerable willpower and intellect toward delivering an off-the-cuff treatise on how Berserk had so deeply touched him was a sight in itself to behold. His thoughts on the series' portrayal of sex as fundamentally violent leading up to Guts and Casca’s first moment of intimacy in the Golden Age movies was one of the most beautiful sentiments I’d ever heard in reaction to a piece of fiction.

  I don’t think I’d ever heard him provide anything but a surface-level take on a piece of media before or since. He was a pretty forthright guy, but the way he just cut into himself and let his feelings pour out onto the floor left me awestruck. The process of reading Berserk can strike emotional chords within you that are tough to untangle. I’ve been writing analysis and experiential pieces related to anime and manga for almost ten years — and interacting with Berserk’s world for almost 30 years — and writing may just be yet another attempt for me to pull my own twisted-up feelings about it apart. 

  Berserk is one of the most deeply personal works I’ve ever read, both for myself and in my perception of Miura's works. The series' transformation in the past 30 years artistically and thematically is so singular it's difficult to find another work that comes close. The author of Hajime no Ippo, who was among the first to see Berserk as Miura presented him with some early drafts working as his assistant, claimed that the design for Guts and Puck had come from a mess of ideas Miura had been working on since his early school days.

  写真は三浦建太郎君が寄稿してくれた鷹村です。 今かなり感傷的になっています。 思い出話をさせて下さい。 僕が初めての週刊連載でスタッフが一人もいなくて困っていたら手伝いにきてくれました。 彼が18で僕が19です。 某大学の芸術学部の学生で講義明けにスケッチブックを片手に来てくれました。 pic.twitter.com/hT1JCWBTKu

— 森川ジョージ (@WANPOWANWAN) May 20, 2021

  Miura claimed two of his big influences were Go Nagai’s Violence Jack and Tetsuo Hara and Buronson’s Fist of the North Star. Miura wears these influences on his sleeve, discovering the early concepts that had percolated in his mind just felt right. The beginning of Berserk, despite its amazing visual power, feels like it sprang from a very juvenile concept: Guts is a hypermasculine lone traveler breaking his body against nightmarish creatures in his single-minded pursuit of revenge, rigidly independent and distrustful of others due to his dark past.

  Uncompromising, rugged, independent, a really big sword ... Guts is a romantic ideal of masculinity on a quest to personally serve justice against the one who wronged him. Almost nefarious in the manner in which his character checked these boxes, especially when it came to his grim stoicism, unblinkingly facing his struggle against literal cosmic forces. Never doubting himself, never trusting others, never weeping for what he had lost.

    Miura said he sketched out most of the backstory when the manga began publication, so I have to assume the larger strokes of the Golden Arc were pretty well figured out from the outset, but I’m less sure if he had fully realized where he wanted to take the story to where we are now. After the introductory mini-arcs of demon-slaying, Berserk encounters Griffith and the story draws us back to a massive flashback arc. We see the same Guts living as a lone mercenary who Griffith persuades to join the Band of the Hawk to help realize his ambitions of rising above the circumstances of his birth to join the nobility.

  We discover the horrific abuses of Guts’ adoptive father and eventually learn that Guts, Griffith, and Casca are all victims of sexual violence. The story develops into a sprawling semi-historical epic featuring politics and war, but the real narrative is in the growing companionship between Guts and the members of the band. Directionless and traumatized by his childhood, Guts slowly finds a purpose helping Griffith realize his dream and the courage to allow others to grow close to him. 

  Miura mentioned that many Band of the Hawk members were based on his early friend groups. Although he was always sparse with details about his personal life, he has spoken about how many of them referred to themselves as aspiring manga authors and how he felt an intense sense of competition, admitting that among them he may have been the only one seriously working toward that goal, desperately keeping ahead in his perceived race against them. It’s intriguing thinking about how much of this angst may have made it to the pages, as it's almost impossible not to imagine Miura put quite a bit of himself in Guts. 

  Perhaps this is why it feels so real and makes The Eclipse — the quintessential anime betrayal at the hands of Griffith — all the more heartbreaking. The raw violence and macabre imagery certainly helped. While Miura owed Hellraiser’s Cenobites much in the designs of the God Hand, his macabre portrayal of the Band of the Hawk’s eradication within the literal bowels of hell, the massive hand, the black sun, the Skull Knight, and even Miura’s page compositions have been endlessly referenced, copied, and outright plagiarized since.

    The events were tragic in any context and I have heard many deeply personal experiences others drew from The Eclipse sympathizing with Guts, Casca, or even Griffith’s spiral driven by his perceived rejection by Guts. Mine were most closely aligned with the tragedy of Guts having overcome such painful circumstances to not only reject his own self enforced solitude, but to fearlessly express his affection for his loved ones. 

  The Golden Age was a methodical destruction of Guts’ self-destructive methods of preservation ruined in a single selfish act by his most trusted friend, leaving him once again alone and afraid of growing close to those around him. It ripped the romance of Guts’ mission and eventually took the story down a course I never expected. Berserk wasn’t a story of revenge but one of recovery.

  Guess that’s enough beating around the bush, as I should talk about how this shift affected me personally. When I was young, when I began reading Berserk I found Guts’ unflagging stoicism to be really cool, not just aesthetically but in how I understood guys were supposed to be. I was slow to make friends during school and my rapidly gentrifying neighborhood had my friends' parents moving away faster than I could find new ones. At some point I think I became too afraid of putting myself out there anymore, risking rejection when even acceptance was so fleeting. It began to feel easier just to resign myself to solitude and pretend my circumstances were beyond my own power to correct.

  Unfortunately, I became the stereotypical kid who ate alone during lunch break. Under the invisible expectations demanding I not display weakness, my loneliness was compounded by shame for feeling loneliness. My only recourse was to reveal none of those feelings and pretend the whole thing didn't bother me at all. Needless to say my attempts to cope probably fooled no one and only made things even worse, but I really didn’t know of any better way to handle my situation. I felt bad, I felt even worse about feeling bad and had been provided with zero tools to cope, much less even admit that I had a problem at all.

  The arcs following the Golden Age completely changed my perspective. Guts had tragically, yet understandably, cut himself off from others to save himself from experiencing that trauma again and, in effect, denied himself any opportunity to allow himself to be happy again. As he began to meet other characters that attached themselves to him, between Rickert and Erica spending months waiting worried for his return, and even the slimmest hope to rescuing Casca began to seed itself into the story, I could only see Guts as a fool pursuing a grim and hopeless task rather than appreciating everything that he had managed to hold onto. 

  The same attributes that made Guts so compelling in the opening chapters were revealed as his true enemy. Griffith had committed an unforgivable act but Guts’ journey for revenge was one of self-inflicted pain and fear. The romanticism was gone.

  Farnese’s inclusion in the Conviction arc was a revelation. Among the many brilliant aspects of her character, I identified with her simply for how she acted as a stand-in for myself as the reader: Plagued by self-doubt and fear, desperate to maintain her own stoic and uncompromising image, and resentful of her place in the world. She sees Guts’ fearlessness in the face of cosmic horror and believes she might be able to learn his confidence.

    But in following Guts, Farnese instead finds a teacher in Casca. In taking care of her, Farnese develops a connection and is able to experience genuine sympathy that develops into a sense of responsibility. Caring for Casca allows Farnese to develop the courage she was lacking not out of reckless self-abandon but compassion.

  I can’t exactly credit Berserk with turning my life around, but I feel that it genuinely helped crystallize within me a sense of growing doubts about my maladjusted high school days. My growing awareness of Guts' undeniable role in his own suffering forced me to admit my own role in mine and created a determination to take action to fix it rather than pretending enough stoicism might actually result in some sort of solution.

  I visited the Berserk subreddit from time to time and always enjoyed the group's penchant for referring to all the members of the board as “fellow strugglers,” owing both to Skull Knight’s label for Guts and their own tongue-in-cheek humor at waiting through extended hiatuses. Only in retrospect did it feel truly fitting to me. Trying to avoid the pitfalls of Guts’ path is a constant struggle. Today I’m blessed with many good friends but still feel primal pangs of fear holding me back nearly every time I meet someone, the idea of telling others how much they mean to me or even sharing my thoughts and feelings about something I care about deeply as if each action will expose me to attack.

  It’s taken time to pull myself away from the behaviors that were so deeply ingrained and it’s a journey where I’m not sure the work will ever be truly done, but witnessing Guts’ own slow progress has been a constant source of reassurance. My sense of admiration for Miura’s epic tale of a man allowing himself to let go after suffering such devastating circumstances brought my own humble problems and their way out into focus.

    Over the years I, and many others, have been forced to come to terms with the fact that Berserk would likely never finish. The pattern of long, unexplained hiatuses and the solemn recognition that any of them could be the last is a familiar one. The double-edged sword of manga largely being works created by a single individual is that there is rarely anyone in a position to pick up the torch when the creator calls it quits. Takehiko Inoue’s Vagabond, Ai Yazawa’s Nana, and likely Yoshihiro Togashi’s Hunter X Hunter all frozen in indefinite hiatus, the publishers respectfully holding the door open should the creators ever decide to return, leaving it in a liminal space with no sense of conclusion for the fans except what we can make for ourselves.

  The reason for Miura’s hiatuses was unclear. Fans liked to joke that he would take long breaks to play The Idolmaster, but Miura was also infamous for taking “breaks” spent minutely illustrating panels to his exacting artistic standard, creating a tumultuous release schedule during the wars featuring thousands of tiny soldiers all dressed in period-appropriate armor. If his health was becoming an issue, it’s uncommon that news would be shared with fans for most authors, much less one as private as Miura.

  Even without delays, the story Miura was building just seemed to be getting too big. The scale continued to grow, his narrative ambition swelling even faster after 20 years of publication, the depth and breadth of his universe constantly expanding. The fan-dubbed “Millennium Falcon Arc” was massive, changing the landscape of Berserk from a low fantasy plagued by roaming demons to a high fantasy where godlike beings of sanity-defying size battled for control of the world. How could Guts even meet Griffith again? What might Casca want to do when her sanity returned? What are the origins of the Skull Knight? And would he do battle with the God Hand? There was too much left to happen and Miura’s art only grew more and more elaborate. It would take decades to resolve all this.

  But it didn’t need to. I imagine we’ll never get a precise picture of the final years of Miura’s life leading up to his tragic passing. In the final chapters he released, it felt as if he had directed the story to some conclusion. The unfinished Fantasia arc finds Guts and his newfound band finding a way to finally restore Casca’s sanity and — although there is still unmistakably a boundary separating them — both seem resolute in finding a way to mend their shared wounds together.

  One of the final chapters features Guts drinking around the campfire with the two other men of his group, Serpico and Roderick, as he entrusts the recovery of Casca to Schierke and Farnese. It's a scene that, in the original Band of the Hawk, would have found Guts brooding as his fellows engage in bluster. The tone of this conversation, however, is completely different. The three commiserate over how much has changed and the strength each has found in the companionship of the others. After everything that has happened, Guts declares that he is grateful. 

  The suicidal dedication to his quest for vengeance and dispassionate pragmatism that defined Guts in the earliest chapters is gone. Although they first appeared to be a source of strength as the Black Swordsman, he has learned that they rose from the fear of losing his friends again, from letting others close enough to harm him, and from having no other purpose without others. Whether or not Guts and Griffith were to ever meet again, Guts has rediscovered the strength to no longer carry his burdens alone. 

  All that has happened is all there will ever be. We too must be grateful.

      Peter Fobian is an Associate Manager of Social Video at Crunchyroll, writer for Anime Academy and Anime in America, and an editor at Anime Feminist. You can follow him on Twitter @PeterFobian.

By: Peter Fobian

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

[crusherthedoctor]

Sonic Villains: Sweet or Shite? - Part 14: SCOURGE

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......Huh?

Oh, hello there! My name's Lutrudis, pleased to meet you. Judging from that look of surprise on your face however, it's evident that you weren't looking for ME per say... What's that? You want to know what this is? Right, of course, my apologies.

Well, this is a mini-series belonging to... ahem, my creator, in which he goes into slightly more detail about his thoughts on the villains in Sonic's history, and why he thinks they either work well, or fall flat (or somewhere in-between). Usually he gives his stance on their designs, their personalities, and what they had to show for themselves in the game(s) they featured in. He also stresses that these are just his own personal thoughts, and that whether you agree or disagree, you're free to share your own thoughts and opinions.

Unfortunately, as you may have gathered, it seems he's a bit occupied for today, and is thus unable to do a review... is what I WOULD be saying if he didn't let me cover for him! That's right boys and girls, I'll be filling in for him today, by doing a little review of my own! Please forgive me if I prattle on for extended periods, but I sincerely hope my efforts in assessing the Wrong'un of the Week are of the utmost quality. Truth be told, it's kind of nerve-wracking, but I'm happy to give it my all for you guys. ❤️

So then, let's carry on with the show, shall we? Welcome to a new edition of Sweet or... Sour. Welcome to Sweet or Sour. Yes indeed, heh heh... (Is the creator's language normally this gratuitous? I hope Cream hasn't seen his posts...)

Anyhow, for today's review... well, this is quite interesting. Normally the creator prefers to keep his reviews focused on game-centric villains, but I guess he made an exception with this one. Today, we'll be directing our attention to a notorious copycat of our blue hero in the Archie continuity, and legendary connoisseur of 70's fashion: Scourge the Hedgehog.

The Gist: Once upon a time, in the land of comics, there was a world known by all as Mobius. But there was also a parallel dimension called Anti-Mobius, or as it would later become known as, Moebius... one E makes all the difference, apparently. Anyway, in this dimension, everyone and everything that existed in Mobius had an identical equivalent in Anti-Mobius, but things operated a bit differently, in the sense that they were largely the opposite of what we were familiar with.

Putting aside the rather disturbing implication that this world might not have had any real will or independence if it existed purely to do the opposite of what Mobius did, this meant that it had a Sonic the Hedgehog of its very own, as well as a father to that Sonic. Sadly though, this Sonic's father was not that kind to him. In fact, he was said to be a rather poor excuse for a father, as evidenced by how he didn't give his son enough attention, and... oh, that's it.

How awful.

I'd say his choice of attire is the real crime presented here.

Anti-Mobius in its original form experienced a period of Great Peace, but alas, it was not to last. It soon became a shadow of its former glory, which seemed prophetic in hindsight, as it was by this time that this world's Sonic the Hedgehog - Evil Sonic - murdered his own father in cold blood, and then threw his world's incarnation of King Maximilian Acorn into the Zone of Silence. He quickly became a dictator to the people of Anti-Mobius, with his only immediate opposition coming in the form of the kindhearted counterpart to Dr. Ivo Robotnik... or should that be Dr. Julian Robotnik, in this continuity...? Hmm, I suppose it doesn't matter anymore...

Naturally, the laws of the universe saw fit to correct this wrong. Just as water is wet, and fire is hot, Sonic gives evildoers a right kicking. And lo and behold, our magnificent hero did eventually meet his evil duplicate. The two were evenly matched in speed, but the good-natured Sonic triumphed regardless, possibly because he had more wittiness on his person.

Pictured: Quality banter.

Evil Sonic later brought along the rest of his gang to aid him, who predictably mirrored Sonic's own band of Freedom Fighters. They were just as much of a match for our heroes, which is a polite way of saying they weren't. You really shouldn't expect anything exquisite when they looked like this.

Maybe you should call your group something else then...

These parlor games went on for a while, with the status quo never truly changing. But then, after one final showdown with Sonic, the evil Robotnik of Mobius kicked the bucket, which among other things, inspired ANOTHER Robotnik to fill the void. This Robo-Robotnik took Evil Sonic along with him to commit many acts of dastardly intent, an act of generosity that proved to be tragically undermined by Evil Sonic getting caught and trapped by different people time and time again, to the point where even his old gang had long replaced him with a new leader. He did go on to escape the grasp of one Zonic the Zone Cop... only to later get arrested again by the same guy. So far, so adorably incompetent, right?

Still, he did bust out once more, and he proceeded to turn the overall universe into a glorified soap drama by pulling the moves on numerous ladies in Mobius, which in true Evil Sonic style, achieved precisely nothing of merit. Even after he briefly teamed up with Rouge the Bat, his luck persisted in not manifesting. But things were about to get even worse... for us. On a meta level, if you know what I mean.

After one final botched attempt at pointless thievery, with the Master Emerald being the prime target in this particular case, Evil Sonic's attempt to gain himself a super form was halted midway with great force by none other than Locke, the notorious father and attempted microwave murderer of Knuckles the Echidna. Rather than kill him however, all this did was change his fur to green, and leave him with some hardcore scars.

He promptly renamed himself Scourge. Because he's a real SCOURGE to good ideas, har har.

New kid in town, do not steal.

With his first act of villainy as a new man tattering to pieces due to foolishly invoking the wrath of Shadow the Hedgehog, he soon crossed paths with Dr. Finitevus, an albino echidna who otherwise looked exactly like Knuckles (good heavens, how many of these can one muster?), and spent some time on his side by aiding a new gang of lovely gentlemen called the Destructix. Together, these functioning psychopaths committed more mindless evil.

He also managed to swoon over Fiona Fox to his side, a miraculous modicum of success considering you need some sort of charm to be able to do that, of which Scourge has shown nil. I'm hardly an expert on dishing out romantic advice, but I'm willing to bet there's plenty of superior fish in the sea, Fiona...

How about “Oh my god, did I seriously die to THESE losers?”

Eventually, Scourge and Fiona broke away from Finitevus' allegiance after the deadly and boring Enerjak was unleashed on Mobius. He returned to Anti-Mobius, and it turned out that any repairs made since the last time he was king didn't amount to anything substantial, because he went and conquered the entire land all over again. Rechristening his old gang as the Suppression Squad, he continued Being Evil™ some more, until the aforementioned Suppression Squad betrayed him for constantly being abhorrent to them, which led to him being stuck with Rosy the Rascal for a while, yet another shameful derivative of a close friend.

In his last days, at long last, he finally achieved a super form with the power of an Anarchy Beryl... only to get soundly thrashed once again, get thrown in prison, and then just when it seemed he'd be back in business, he got wiped out by the Genesis Wave. Tch, Mondays, am I right?

As you can tell from my words alone, let alone in an extremely abridged format, he did a fair amount over the years... and yet at the same time, when you really think about it, he ultimately did so very little.

Oh, and there was also a Metal Scourge at one point. I'm aware that the man who made him has never been all there in the head, but I still find myself questioning why he saw fit to go through with this nonsense.

I shouldn't need to say this, but that's a disgrace to the hostile Eggman robot that I know and detest.

The Design: Well, he started off as a Sonic, so it's to be expected that he'd look exactly like the lovable goof. Since this was ~Evil~ Sonic though, he was determined to remind us at all times that Grease was in fact the word.

~You're the one I don't want, you're not the one for, no-ho-ho, honey~

Then he turned green, and... yeah, he turned green. All I can say, really.

Please excuse me, I'm utterly beside myself with amazement.

It doesn't quite strike the imaginative chords, needless to say. And neither does his super state, which... I'm sorry, it's not normally my cup of tea to chide others for their appearance, but just look at this tripe for a moment.

No, I don't think I will.

When you combine his already ridiculous self with black eyes and a tiara... what exactly is the intent here? Am I supposed to be intimidated by this display?

Keep this between us if you can, but personally, I'm more intimidated by staircases than I am by this fiend.

The Personality: You would think that since a Sonic is a Sonic, Scourge would share a lot of his personality with our Sonic. And that is true... in the most superficial sense possible.

Sure, he's jovial, cocky, and prone to moments of overconfidence, which is enough to sound very familiar to us on paper. Beyond that however, that's all they really have in common beside their appearance. In every other category, you could argue that Scourge is the exact opposite of Sonic.

For instance, whereas Sonic is supremely loyal to his friends (trust me, I’m grateful to know!), Scourge treats his gang like fetid garbage, and that's when he's not outright abandoning them, neglecting them, and putting them in danger. Likewise, whereas Sonic is a blue bundle of bravery no matter the odds, Scourge is a poor little chicken when the going gets tough, despite all his ramblings about being Sonic's full potential.

This means that for all the acclaim he receives as Sonic's evil doppelganger... he shares very few similarities with who he's replicating. He's barely any different from all the other ruffians that Sonic faces, so what point is there to him being a Sonic at all? If he had a different name and design entirely, what would honestly be lost in translation?

But then, maybe he would just become Mephiles the Dark instead.

Or Mimic the Octopus instead.

Or Eggman Nega instead.

Or Ken Penders instead.

Or... sheesh, they all kind of blend together after a while, don’t they?

The Execution: If my general tone has thus far not been enough of an obvious indication, I do not rank Scourge with any particular favouritism when it comes to Sonic's rogue gallery.

Mind you, ANYONE who threatens our world and tries to kill my friends is nothing but rancid at their core, and as long as they remain unrepentant, I would never support any of them. Asking me which dangerous maniac is “the best” is like asking me which sewage stinks the least, after all. But even I can understand that there's a right way to do bad, and a wrong way to do bad. Scourge, Evil Sonic, whatever you wish to call him, falls squarely into the latter category.

How I'd love to shove an arrow up His Majesty's rear end.

First of all, his motivations were poorly structured, and that's putting it tactfully. Most of the time, we're led to assume that he does evil for no other reason than because it's evil, so we're already not looking at masterpiece material. But as it turns out, as I mentioned way earlier on, he grew resentful of his father for not giving him as much attention as he felt he deserved.

So when he killed his dear old dad, and went on to do everything else to bitterly stick it to his dad's memory, we're supposed to... sympathise...? Understand his point of view, perhaps...?

Well, I dare say I'll be sticking my nose up to THAT presumption, because there is no pathos to be had here. None at all. It's just a selfish brat becoming a violent and murderous selfish brat, and nothing more. By doing everything for evil's sake, intertwined with this sorry excuse of a tragic backstory, it's as if he's trying to have the best of both villainous worlds, without understanding what makes either of them work.

Secondly, for what little success that Scourge actually had to his name, few of them were by his own hand so to speak. As much as it pains me to give Dr. Eggman even a veneer of kudos, it does require mentioning that for all of the doctor's contemptible attributes, he truly is single-handedly responsible for a great majority of his own... achievements, if you wish to call them such. By contrast, this stinker rarely worked for his moments, instead often relying solely on others to get anything done efficiently, whether it be Fiona, Finitevus, his gangs, or the Anarchy Beryl. Without them, Scourge was always nothing.

Thirdly, as mentioned, he failed to fulfill even the basic concept of what Sonic would be like if he became evil, since he has virtually nothing in common with the hero he's trying so desperately to present himself as the corrupted counterpart to. While I'd obviously prefer not to entertain the mere notion of an evil Sonic anyways, since I know deep in my heart that he would never go down that path, I know him well enough to reasonably assume that even if he did lose his way, he would still be recognisable in some capacity, since there are countless aspects to his personality that remain so... inherent to how his mind operates.

I guess what I'm saying is that if an evil Sonic came to be, he would exist as a darker mirror of how Sonic actually is, and not... something that is not at all like Sonic beyond the physical.

What's the matter? Not used to a horse seeing you for what you really are?

Finally, remember when I said he was considerably more cowardly than Sonic? I wasn't simply referring to life or death battles and similar heat of the moment situations. Even when the scenario is of lower intensity, when the odds are completely in his favor at that, Scourge proves himself to be what Sonic isn't. Remember when he broke into the house of Sonic's father, with the intent to intimidate and kill said father... only to be scolded into submission by him? We're expected to believe this guy is a big baddie who ranks high in threat level, yet getting a telling off is sufficient enough to shoo him away?

If only Eggman was this easy to deal with...

Now granted, it's to my understanding that all of Scourge's failings are occasionally explained as him being a parody character. But, and correct me if I'm wrong here... aren't parodies supposed to be, you know, parodic, even if done subtly? As opposed to being played completely straight with no trace of irony, which is exactly how Scourge was portrayed throughout the entire duration of the comic's run, with no exceptions whatsoever?

Despite how often the comic insisted otherwise, and despite how often he received it, Scourge was not a villain who warranted importance. He was not a master planner, or a legendary conquerer, or a malevolent force of nature. He was bottom of the barrel, a wannabe at best, who thought he was made for bigger stripes, but remained little more than a walking pile of fresh manure, with nothing to show for it till the very end. His credibility was often alluded to, and handed to him, but never in any stretch was it properly earned. A punk who occasionally got lucky is hardly worth the rank of arch-fiend, in my humble opinion. He was a disgrace who simply had the luxury of wearing Sonic's skin to mask his shortcomings, and I can’t say I’m crestfallen to see him go.

And quite frankly, anyone who impersonates Sonic in the first place reeks to high heaven anyway. To think this trash heap thought he could ever compare in the slightest to my darling... Oh goodness, did I say that out loud?

Lutrudis Gives Scourge a: Thumbs Down!

#Sonic Villains: Sweet or Shite? #Opinion #Sonic the Hedgehog #Lutrudis Hadeer #Scourge the Hedgehog #Archie Sonic