#from now on though cuz I really like the structure of his streams and how he creates content in general (I can and have go(ne) on a long | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blue-chimera · 3 months

Note

Ok, let me start this thing then!! *Cracks knuckles*

Four questions for you!

Favorite secondary character?

Who do you think died too soon?

Best case episode

If you could change one thing from supernatural...

Oh, yay! This is wonderful, thank you.

Fave would have to be Benny, I guess. I'm a sucker for that Southern charm & swagger. Good ol' boy kindness but he's also a killer? Sign me up. Add in the whole "losing the fight against his bloodlust" + "abandoned by his comrade-in-arms" (looking at you here, Dean) and then, finally, "sacrifices himself heroically"? Not once but twice? Yeah, I'm here for that. (A very close runner-up would be tough, no-nonsense Ellen Harvelle, though. Or Donna!)

Victor Henriksen died waaay too soon. He was smart, charismatic, scary as hell, & just an all-around badass. I actually wanted to see him dogging the trail of the Winchesters a lot longer. (Although he would've be awesome as an ally, too!)

Hmm... Gonna exclude Nightshifter & Folsom Prison Blues just so I can talk about something other than how awesome Agent Henriksen was again. Also, funny episodes always trump non-funny ones, so I'm gonna set those aside, too, and go for straight "interesting case dynamics unfolding over the course of the episode" with S6:E13's "Unforgiven" (the one where Sam is having flashbacks to stuff that Soulless!Sam did on that same case while they're trying to solve it). I'm usually biggest into mytharc episodes, but the personal aspects tying into the case just upped the stakes like crazy there.

If I could change one thing about Supernatural... Ugh. That's so hard. I've written before about how the 40-minute, 22-episode-season format limited the writers' ability to dive deeper into some of the personal character drama stuff. (But, conversely, a streaming-length season would've been limiting in other ways, as the Supernatural Then & Now podcast recently touched on a couple of times, most notably in their interviews with Robert Wisdom & Kurt Fuller.) Sooo... if I could only change one thing, it'd have to be a structural thing, not a singular plot point or character arc. And I wouldn't nix the existing format, because doing so would make it a very different show (like, I don't think we'd recognize that version of Supernatural at all), but I would give the show a double-length episode every season at the mid-season or end-of-season finale. That would give the writers enough breathing room to actually deal with some of the personal/emotional aspects of the story that occasionally got dropped just cuz they couldn't fit it in. They could resolve (or at least flesh out) things like the false voicemail in season 4; show what happened to the Samulet after it revealed God; explore Sam's headspace more between seasons 7 & 8; have some consequences to Dean's drinking; and actually show us more of the relationship-building/relationship-repairing that went on between Dean & Mary and (especially after her death) Dean & Jack. [It's implied, but IMO, it really needs to be seen.]

(That last answer is a bit of a cheat, sorry! If I had to pick one in-story thing to change, I guess I'd go with giving more time to Dean & Jack's relationship. Sam had enough history with Dean that anything unresolved between them was eventually overwritten/rebalanced with enough good things to basically set them straight, but Dean's time with Jack was so limited that every misstep there, every time Dean played out his intergenerational trauma by taking his anger out on Jack, man, it was like a knife to the chest. And I think Jack got it, y'know? Eventually, at least. He figured out that some of that anger was just Dean struggling with his pain. But, yeah... I'd give a lot to have been able to see them getting to a place of peace together.)

#dean winchester #sam winchester #jack kline #jack #mary winchester #benny lafitte #benny #victor henriksen #soulless!sam #ellen harvelle #donna #donna hanscum #spn #asks #answers #commentary

13 notes · View notes

sweetvictorie · 2 years

Note

well now I'm super curious about the MML thing, please elaborate for the public!

OKAY ill preface this by saying that 1. this is gonna be pretty stream of consciousness and 2. i didnt follow the show too closely as it was being released so i dont know the exact timeline or when any decisions were made. that being said

first of all doofenshmirtz just randomly being stuck in the murphy house meant the attention was on him instead of other characters and so they suffered from little screentime/development. the focus on him and perrys relationship was especially detrimental to what was happening to cavendish and dakota. doof and perry had a much more touching conclusion to their "breakup," while the conflict with cav and dakota was not solved in any satisfying way (cav just saying im sorry really shouldnt have covered it all LOL). also doof being there breaks up the A plot/B plot format that both shows relied on and it gets a little chaotic.

secondly i really just feel like he doesnt fit in with the rules of the mml universe - even though it is the same as the pnf universe technically, the Rules are a bit different due to the structure of season 1 and murphys law. i ranted about this topic to my dearest bestie TJ @dykedarkwing who made an EXCELLENT point about this: pnf is a very formulaic show of course, and due to its format, its ok if doofs building gets destroyed at the end of an episode bc itll be okay by the next one. thats how the rules work. but mml was attempting to be more serial with the season 1 overarching plot, and so when his building was destroyed it was gone "for good" and he had to move in with the murphys. but DESPITE THIS, the show still mostly operates on pnf humor and logic. for example murphys law is that anything that can go wrong will go wrong, but the way it affects milo doesnt like cause them all to get murdered or anything- it always wraps around conveniently, just like the scenarios in pnf that perfectly hid phineas and ferbs inventions. doofenshmirtz still operates by the same rules that he did before, so trying to combine that with the murphys law logic just like... gets really muddy and confusing, and makes milo's "power" feel way less significant.

it really just feels to me that they added doof as a way to cash in on pnf's popularity on the internet/memes/tiktok, when they shouldve just let mml be its own show. i have nothing against the crossover special, i thought that was a pretty cool thing to do, but to permanently intertwine them and turn mml into a kind of "pnf 2" was just not the move, cuz it made their own characters feel way less important. :( i will admit that mml's characters kinda lacked the charm and chemistry that pnf characters had, especially doof and perry, so i can understand they thought adding them back in would help fix the problem, but i feel like it just did the opposite

and i know a lot of these decisions were probably made because of disney and its lack of advertising for the show or even the disney+ pnf movie but im not gonna get into that rn since i dont have the research looool

#mml #vic shhh #i have no idea if this makes any sense but it all makes sense to me in my head and thats what counts :)#once again thanks anon for letting me ramble about this #and anyone feel free to add in your opinions i love discussing cartoons its sosososo fun #i hate this show but i love it. but it sucks. but i love it

7 notes · View notes

ask-spider-man-61610 · 3 years

Text

The Infiltration: Part One of Three

To say that two shapeshifters stood in the basement laboratory of a government building wouldn't be quite accurate. One shapeshifter stood in the basement laboratory. The other could more honestly be described as meticulously sculpted into shape. The particles that made up his body were arranged into the shape of a standing man, held in place by static cling, but that wasn't really standing. It was a rough approximation of standing, just like everything about Flint Marko was a rough approximation of a human being. He'd long since gotten used to the fact, but that didn't make it any less unpleasant.

The other shapeshifter, Reed Richards, leaned against a table that was great for projecting holograms but terrible for holding papers or drinks. Fancy and impractical equipment like this was one of the Cape Code Authority's most well-known features.

A third man stood in this laboratory too, off to one side. He was, in a way, the exact opposite of a shapeshifter. More on him later.

"I've taken some time to look into your request," Richards said as he tapped a few icons on the tabletop. "Here's the basics of my thoughts so far. A shell to house your nervous system and respond to electrical signals."

There was a sound like sand sliding down a dune before Flint began to speak. It had taken him a long time to relearn how to talk after becoming the Sandman; even now, it took effort to hold the shape of those granular vocal cords as he spoke in a deep and raspy voice. "Yeah. Y'said that last time, Doc. What's changed?"

Richards, in response, pinched an image on the tabletop and widened it out, his fingers stretching like rubber bands to expand the picture further. He raised his arm--he seemed to ignore his joints, the entire limb bending like a garden hose--and flicked one finger up, and a hologram rose out of the table's display to cast a soft white glow over the room. The hologram looked like eggshells glued to an Erector set, arranged into the shape of a bipedal form that lay on the table as if it were a stretcher. "What's changed is that I've done some research into actually making that shell. Take a look, I've drafted up a basic schematic for what it'd look like."

"And you decided it'd look like a Phantom?"

Richards snorted, but ignored the question. "The outermost shell is solid-light holography," he continued, making a vague swiping gesture through the air above the image. The eggshell faded out, revealing the bare animatronic beneath, which (judging by the sculpted face made of sand) Flint found even less impressive. Frowning, Richards looked down at the hologram again and added, "We could, given some finagling, calibrate it to resemble an actual human. But generating these 3D models is a pain, so I didn't bother."

Perhaps a more critical mind would have asked why, if 3D models were such a pain, they bothered to use holograms at all instead of pen and paper. But Flint's mind had never been an especially critical one; he was in no way stupid, but for all his life had tended to take things as they came. Instead he asked, "Is that why it looks like a Phantom? 'Cuz you're just recycling a picture you already had?"

"Not letting that go, eh?" Richards replied, the ghost of a smirk on his face as he glanced up at the Sandman again. He waved his hand again, and the computer misinterpreted his gesture and deactivated the projection of the suit. Rolling his eyes, Richards reactivated the hologram and said, "No. Well, partially. It looks like a Phantom because that technology is what a lot of my idea is based on. You see, what you're asking for is very similar to how the technology works anyway--an artificial support structure for a unique nervous system. The only difference is that your nervous system is two gallons of granulated silica, whereas the Phantoms are currently working with--"

And here he stopped, falling silent and stoic. His eyes, suddenly devoid of their smiling crow's feet, glanced Flint's way before his disgusting elastic fingers returned to typing on the touchscreen between them. The pile of sand, insomuch as it could, looked confused.

"What?" he said, in a voice like a seashell crushed underfoot on a beach. "What're the Phantoms workin' with? I thought they were just robots."

This was a common misconception, and Richards, like most of the Cape Code Authority, had a vested interest in upholding it. "Phantoms" were the colloquial name for Perpetual Holographic Avatar/Nano-Tech Offensive Monsters. Bipedal, autonomous drones with light weaponry, they were the foot soldiers of the CCA, the beat cops, the cavalry when an agent wanted reinforcement. They had been in development since the War of the Worlds had brought the Chitauri and all their technology to Earth six years ago, and some of the core technology of the drones was better kept unknown. What Richards had said threatened to jeopardise that secrecy.

The third man in the room chose then to speak. Stepping forward, his black cloak obscuring the entirety of his six-foot-plus form, he spoke with a voice that was digitally altered to be an octave deeper. "They are robots," he said, his white face mask moving like genuine flesh. "Their processors have a unique method of operation, though. They have some of the most sophisticated A.I. in the world, and their microprocessors are similar enough to a human's that it won't require too much tinkering to render it compatible with your...situation."

This was Scrier--or rather, a Scrier; one of many--and he was a champion liar. Nobody quite knew when he had joined the CCA or what level he occupied, but the executives of the organization seemed to treat him as a special case. He never answered distress calls, except to break up protests and strikes. He had no patrol routes, no assigned partners, and the only training courses he attended were the ones he taught--the ones about corporate rights and the agency's responsibility to them. Agents weren't allowed to try and investigate Scrier's identity. For all they knew, he was an undercover boss trying to hear his subordinates' opinions on him.

This was true, but it was a little more specific than that.

"Yes!" Richards said, gesturing towards the man gratefully. "Thank you, Scrier. I didn't know how exactly to put that. Yes, Phantoms run on a very human-like system. In theory, adapting it to suit your nervous system should be far easier than trying to create something out of whole cloth."

"I thought you were like a super genius," Flint said, sounding a bit annoyed. "You've invented flying cars and indestructible fabrics that let you go to space. You have yer own interdimensional portal. Why is this taking so much thought? Why does this need to be made out of other stuff and spit and prayers?"

Richards gave him a blank glare for a few seconds before sighing. "Okay," he said, leaning on the table. "First of all, I am a genius. I'm one of the smartest people to ever live, but that doesn't mean I know everything. I have to research and experiment. Any innovation, even one from me, takes time." He waved his hand again and the hologram vanished. "Second of all, remember: I'm doing this out of the goodness of my heart."

"You're doing this because that was my condition!" Flint shot back, and the pile of sand swelled slightly and grew almost half a foot. He raised his arms; granules fell from the sculptures and scattered across the floor. "That's what I said when I joined this stupid super-cop thing! I hate being the Sandman, Doc! You guys offered to give me this--this job of disrupting protests and taking down unregistered super-guys because your bosses told me you could make me...not."

He glanced down at his hands. And indeed hands they were; years of practice had let him sculpt the sand at the end of his arms into an incredibly realistic form, with perfectly jointed fingers. You could almost see what must have once been his fingerprints. But as he looked at them a small stream of sand fell from them to the ground.

"I'm not expectin' you to make me human again," he said. "But just...something that'll make me feel more human. Something that feels like a body." His features hardened again, sand dunes into sandstone. "If you're just half-assing that--if you're just giving me something that-that makes people treat me like a Phantom and that'll break in like a week--"

And here he stopped. There was more than just a salary that kept agents of the Cape Code Authority in line. You had a lot of wiggle room as a superhero registered under them: you could slack off on the job, you could issue arrests for what you were pretty sure was a crime, you could stop and frisk anyone you liked, you could be sure that the beatings you gave to unarmed suspects were graciously forgiven by your superiors. But one thing you couldn't do was leave. Quitting the CCA was a surefire way to bring the coworkers you had once trusted down on your head; no longer registered, you had no more immunity than a child experimenting with the most basic powers did. Nobody wanted to find themselves imprisoned in Complex 42--stranded inescapably in the Negative Zone, tortured by armed guards and experimented on to replicate your powers, only protected from the hostile, annihilating environment outside the prison by a few wafer-thin force fields. But that was exactly where Flint's line of thinking threatened to take him.

"...Forget it," he mumbled, defeated, and as he slumped down slightly his face and body lost much of its detail.

Richards stared across the table with an uncomfortable air. Glancing down at the table, he tapped a few keys on it and the hologram vanished. With one hand he pushed his glasses up, and then his arm stretched the five feet across the table and patted Flint's semblance of a shoulder.

"Look," he said. "I can't make any promises. You're...unprecedented, Marko. The only shapeshifter of your kind. I'm doing the best I can to help you. But if I can use technology we already have to do it, then I'm going to. You're not my only job in the CCA. But I'm working on it." He took his hand back, and then needed a second to brush off the sand that had come with it. "...It's getting late. We ought to call it a day, I need to head home."

"Have to convince Susan not to walk out on you again?" Scrier suggested, already heading for the door.

Reed just dragged his hand down his face, his features stretching in his grip, and didn't answer. His eyes were bagged and his posture tired. Instead he began to trudge towards the door, each leg bending like it was made of plasticine, and followed by an animate pile of sand.

The light of streetlights and storefront signs shone through the windows as the three of them stepped out of the laboratory. About ten feet away, a custodian looked up from the floor he was mopping and gave the trio a quizzical expression, but the only one who paid him any mind was Scrier, whose expression was hard to parse through the prosthetic mask. Richards and Flint just began to head the opposite direction down the hall.

"Hey! Scrier! Don't you have some skulking to do somewhere else?!" Flint called back.

As the door to the lab swung closed, the janitor adjusted his grip on the mop and looked back down at his work. Scrier, after a second more of staring, turned away and began to saunter off.

It was a long hallway. They kept walking for a good long while before they turned and were out of sight. And for all that time the janitor continued to mop and silently sweated, waiting for them to notice that the security cameras weren't moving like they usually did. Even when the three Cape Code Authority agents were gone, the custodian continued to work. He worked until the vibrations of their footsteps through the floor had faded into the background tremors of the environment. And even longer than that, until the buzz of spider-sense in the back of his mind had subsided slightly, no longer quite so focused on them.

#Spider-Man #Spider-Man AU #Peter Parker #Earth-61610 #Cape Code Authority #Reed Richards | Mister Fantastic #Flint Marko | Sandman #Scrier #story #long #Odyssey Prelude

10 notes · View notes

characteroulette · 3 years

Note

GAME KIDS TIME for Dante Going Fuckin Berserk for the first time (cuz you sent it to me years ago and it's still sitting in my inbox lmao)

ohhhh nice! hahaha. I actually rewrote the whole beginning of that one night because I had the thought of "no, this needs more build up." because it used to just start with the kids in the Game, hearing the singing and then Dante popped.

(I also need to rewrite it again now that the kids are more Aware of Dante's trauma with Hell hahaha)

(here is a read more because I have more to say than I thought I would)

Then Dante's fire sparked up, a hotter and bigger flame. [...] They blasted Frank, Abraham, and Vektor straight out of the game and they hit Petel as he dove into the cover. The burns and the heat around him didn't cease, the waves rocketing out past the visible horizon in every direction.

I did my best to convey Inferno here and I still like it hahaha. getting the same 'fire fire fire' thing that'd probably be going through Dante's head is an interesting challenge, since we're in Petel's pov, but it worked out pretty okay?

There, in the middle of a scorched circle on the ground, was Dante, crumpled on the floor in a familiar way. Though, the only thing recognisable as Dante was the soft, wavy blond hair and the knowledge that Dante had been at the centre and cause of this. Dante's clothes had been torn and were now grey and all available skin Petel could see had been scorched charcoal black.

hey I really like writing character descriptions whoop. also, fun fact! Dante's Berserk aftermath is based off an Elsen (from the game OFF)! that's why he head asplode, actually.

"Why can't he utilise this power into a more constructive gain for us?" Vektor lamented loudly. Knowing Vektor, he was probably also waving his hands about and nearly knocking himself over from the movements. "Every time he shows any kind of prowess in his abilities, it's to our detriment. Every time! He's a jeopardy to the mission."

"Your mission." Abraham's voice came across as cool, but as annoyed as Petel was growing. "He made a mistake, it happens."

I just really still like this exchange, honestly. Abraham being the one to throw that back in Vektor's face was supposed to show his growth, but honestly Abraham is just really friendly and patient towards Dante ;w;

Finally, Dante said, "Sorry."

Petel's response was immediate. "It's okay."

"I-I got scared. And then. I couldn't stop it."

Petel gave it a moment of thought. Back to when all he could comprehend was teeth and claws and making sure every living thing in his vicinity was torn to shreds. He shrugged in the end. "It happens."

even now, EVEN NOW, Dante's still not being truthful about things. he just lies about the root cause of his Berserk because, to him, it's all Fear and Trauma wrapped up in a neat little package (named Orpheus and Hell, but no one would know that since they haven't seen Orpheus yet) and so he just tries to use his Excuse here in a desperate attempt to keep the others out of the loop still. Dante man what the fuck are you doing

One of the Gargoyles dove suddenly, aiming for Dante. Petel managed to claw its wing enough to redirect it, but it still nicked Dante's exposed arm. Dante's mouth opened, a half-formed scream not quite making it out, before his head exploded in a spray of black liquid and a column of black smoke spilled out of his neck. Petel and the two Gargoyles hesitated. For once, Petel sincerely hoped it was just that Dante had been killed, had been logged out of the game. "Uh. Paige?"

"What the hell is going on?" Her voice came over with a stronger terrified tone than she probably meant. "Dante's stats just rocketed up by a 400-times multiplier and he's got 5% health left and the computer's refusing to tell me why it's going mad like this."

The creature formerly Dante straightened itself up, now taller and with broader shoulders. The claws had grown and whiffs of black smoke drifted off their sharp tips with every slight movement, while Dante's legs had curled backwards and the clawed feet had become stumps, nearly hoof-like. A constant stream of black smoke and spurting blood oozed from the stump of Dante's neck. Petel had nothing better to say than a succinct, "Dante's head came off."

At this, the rest of the crew spoke in unison with Paige. "What?"

head asplode! god I love this scene a lot hahaha. the Gargoyles hesitating, like Petel, is meant to be significant! but Petel can't really pay attention to that right now since their friend's head just exploded. I struggled, also, for a long time on how much exactly to jack up Dante's stats and then went "fuck it, 400x is broken" and settled on that hahaha

Petel desperately wished he could explain it better, but his words were caught in the back of his throat and he knew that if he tried to force them out, all that he'd manage would be whimpering and whines. Dante grabbed the remaining Gargoyle as it tried to escape and tore its wings off, then tossed it away as it dissolved into code. Then the thing turned towards Petel.

Petel had no other instinct. His tail tucked, ears flattened against his head, and he ran.

[...]

Of course, Dante was right there behind him. It didn't seem like Dante could fit in the checkpoint or even get inside, but it didn't stop for a second. It slashed at the checkpoint with those sharp claws, making the structure shake and fizzle and actually damaging the thing. After a few slashes, Dante then dragged its claws along the ground, tossing up some sludge-like lava that splattered against the openings of the checkpoint but was kept out by some invisible force. The walls continued to shake and Petel whimpered quietly. "Paige. Paige, please."

Petel showing real fear!! also very good. also very significant. Dante's coding is so fucked up that it actually breaks some of Petel's coding, too. that Fear is just so palpable that it leaks out and infects those around it. (and also Dante's Warping is just That Bad hahaha, this is why he does his best to be careful all the time)

Frank frowned, slowly tilting his head to the side. "It'd be faster to force the log out, right?"

"What exactly is this risk factor?"

Abraham seemed hesitant to ask and Paige hesitated on answering. That was enough for Petel to figure out the rest. And it wasn't good. "He'd come out without a head. Wouldn't he?"

Paige cringed. Frank and Abraham's jaws dropped open. And Vektor, in fabulous Vektor fashion, rolled his eyes. "There's only a fifteen-point-eight percent chance that the system will mistake Dante's current form for his form on this plane of existence. The odds are in our favour."

"No."

Petel narrowed his eyes at Vektor and Vektor wilted under his glare. Paige twiddled with her fingers. Frank came out of his shock first, giving a strangled cry of outrage. "You'd risk Dante coming back headless and dead just to get him out a little quicker?"

Vektor gulped, voice unsteady. "Technically, he wouldn't be dead. The system would just mistake his current form for your reality." Vektor looked around at them expectantly, but Petel wouldn't budge. Not on this one. [...] Vektor puffed up again, getting huffy. "Look, if we did lose Inferno, why would it matter that much? He's of no great contribution to our mission, anyway."

"Your mission!" Petel growled and surged forward to grab the front of Vektor's suit coat. "Dante. Is not. Useless."

ahh, Vektor. (there's that line again whoooo) I have to rewrite all of this but I always want to show the disconnect between how Vektor treats Dante, because of his built-in muscle memory. Vektor doesn't even understand it himself, but he tends to treat Dante worse than the others just because it's what feels right in his programming.

the rest of this chapter is a lot of me getting the rest of the kids out so Paige and Petel can discuss exactly how Dante's Berserk works hahaha. man, I need to rewrite this...

Dante would get out. Things would be all right. They'd all find this very funny in a week or so. 'Hey, remember that time you went berserk and got trapped in the game for several hours? Wasn't that just a hoot?' 'Not as much as that time you ripped us all to shreds when you went berserk! Ah, how time flies.' They were good enough friends by this point, right?

Petel please what the fuck is this XD

anyway, yeah! those are my thoughts on this chapter as it is in beta form hahaha. the ending is basically Petel reaching a conclusion about his feelings towards Dante and that's why he just thinks of them as dating in the next one (which is also something I need to rework, aaaaaaa) but also showing off the trio as friends!! even though this thing is a couple years old by this point, I still like it a lot!

(sorry to everyone else hahaha if you're really curious about the whole chapter, here's the google doc of it. please don't make a mess of it ;; )

#Game Kids need their own tag #Dante #Berserk: Inferno #Petel #long post #Momo writes stuff #askbox meme #Momo replies to things #I had a lot more to say than I thought I would #boy howdy looking back on my old writing is. an experience.#I'm nearly finished with the chapter that comes before this too #fun times in the Game Kid world!#americanjack

2 notes · View notes

letterstothemidnightsociety · 3 years

Text

It’s 2020 and my anxiety level is so high, I grind my teeth while I’m asleep and awake! But let’s ignore all that and instead focus on critically analyzing America’s premiere soap opera for monster hunting! It’s Supernatural!

As you may have already guessed, I watch a lot of TV. And in the Year of Our Troubles, 2020, when I’m encouraged to stay home and indulge in my favorite pastime for the health of the nation, I watch a hell of a lot of TV. When you watch that much TV, you start to notice the rhythm and the flow of how seasons of television progress. You probably notice it too, even if you don’t think about it as much as I do.

Like, you know that episode that happens right near the end of the season where all the characters are happy? They’ve overcome a whole bunch of obstacles and they’re finally winning and they can see that light at the end of the long tunnel? You know the one I’m talking about. That’s the moment that you, as an audience member, know things are about to go downhill very quickly

Like when Poldark smiles over something and you’re just like, ah yes, I’ll prepare for the funeral.

Season 1 of Supernatural is like a case study of the rhythm that makes a network show work. There’s this wave effect throughout the season, building the tension up for a few episodes and then sliding through the next handful. Look at the first five episodes: they’re all about holding our breath, we’re gasping at every new turn - death and ghosts and monsters and Family Drama and Bloody Mary and PREMONITIONS AND THEN we let it out over the next three.

Aaaaaaand exhale!

This first season especially, but I’d argue the first three definitely, you can see this pattern repeated over and over again - building the tension, ramping the horror, bringing it to a major Mythos or Series Arc Moment and then releasing all that tension with a cool-down filler/self-contained episode.

And that’s where I am in the show now. We just had a major series arc episode with “Shadow” - John finally reunites with his sons, the villain is revealed (Meg and also the demon that killed their mom), and the endgame (for this season at least) is in sight. BUT! We’re a network show with 22 episodes to fill, and we can’t just head straight into the Finale Fight now, we’re only on episode 17! I mentioned in my last post that getting the team together again for all of 6 minutes and 44 seconds (yes, I did go back and count) felt like a slap in the face. I assumed it would have something to do with Jeffrey Dean Morgan’s shooting schedule, but looking at it again, it probably had more to do with the fact that it was too soon to bring John Winchester back as a major player.

So our next episode, our breather episode after all this High Drama, should feel a little disappointing to anyone caught up in the arc of the season. But. BUT. But. The next episode is “Hell House."

Yes, this is a filler, but this is filler done RIGHT. I mean maybe it’s just cuz it’s 2020 and I’m very tired and sad and scared all the time, but I was SO HAPPY to see Ed and Harry again, guys you don’t even know. Guys, the GHOSTFACERS ARE HERE!

And man, I am SO glad that this is a recurring side team that shows up throughout the series. Pease no one tell me that they die in a later season, I’ll find out eventually, I just can’t handle it now.

They are the anti-Sam and Dean. They have no idea what they’re getting into, they have no idea how to hunt anything, but they’re here to get famous and that’s just...it’s beautiful guys. Just beautiful.

Plus, you have this soft b-story line where Sam and Dean get to be Real Brothers for a hot second and prank the shit out of each other the whole episode. It’s like even Sam and Dean are saying, yeah, we need a break from all the feelings, let’s put itching powder in each other’s boxer briefs. I want to say that I was really annoyed the first time I watched this and did not care for these shenanigans, but this time around, it was a REAL JOY.

I’m also not mad about this.

And this breather feeling sort of carries over into the next few episodes. Sort of.

“Something Wicked” is another feelings-heavy episode. Backstory! Child-eating Monster! Tiny!Dean! I think Dean maybe cries again? Or just does that thing where he stares into the middle distance, all pain and torment and chiseled jaw line and I’m doing it again, I’msorrynotsorry.

You know. THIS face.

All of these things lead to an episode that has a lot of character development and strengthens the bond between Sam and Dean. Sam literally validates Dean’s whole existence by apologizing for fighting him on this job and then saying “I know I’ve given you a lotta crap for following Dad’s orders, but I know why you do it.” It’s a lot. It’s a big moment from Sam, who hasn’t really reconciled with John yet and who’s still hoping for a future that isn’t all about killing every evil sonuvabitch they can find. It’s a big moment for Dean, too, since his main motivation is protecting his family and (from his limited point of view) that family keeps trying to leave him. And while we do get some insight into the f-ed up childhood that was forced upon our eponymous heroes, there’s nothing really driving the season’s plot forward in this episode.

Same goes for “Provenance”. This episode is another good horror episode. I mean, even if that painting wasn’t possessed by a murder orphan, it is deeply haunted and I hope props burned it when the production wrapped. And what is it about ghost children particularly that’s upsetting? Is it the size? Is it the fact that their eyes are too big for their heads at that age? I mean, it probably has something to do with perverted innocence and goodness blah blah blah, but also their hands are tiny and so all the knives look bigger.

Same, Sam.

Aside from that, Sam gets another nice growth moment where he gets to imagine a world after Jessica. He’s been so fixated on finding Jessica’s killer - I’d argue more so than his mother’s killer albeit they are the same entity. That’s not a judgement against him, mind. He knew and loved Jessica, he did not know his mother, so I’m not mad about that character decision. But the show is really wrapping up the Jessica plot line because that won’t have legs in a season 2. And that’s harsh, so I’ll temper it with the fact that Sam, as a human being, is getting to the final stages of processing his grief and starting to move on with his life. Plus, I think that Dean wingmanning his brother is adorable and I love it. Good Brothering, Show!

But nothing in this episode has anything to do with the killer Sam’s been fixating on, so there’s no progression for the season’s main arc.

Last but certainly not least on this disc of my season 1 box set is “Dead Man’s Blood.” My notes on this episode include the key phrases “I’m pretty sure this episode is...dumb?”, “ I...do not care for vampires,” and then like, two lines later, “Nope. Still don’t care for these vampires.” They’re just making up some random-ass lore and their fashion sense is SO 2006 and I just...I just hate them.

I hate them SO MUCH.

BUT! That’s not the point of this episode. The point of this episode is to point us towards the season finale. FIRST, we start to see a little bit more of the world that the Winchesters inhabit. We actually meet another hunter, Daniel Elkins. He dies immediately, but that’s a cold open for ya. And when Sam and Dean go to investigate Elkin’s death, John comes back, this time for good (haha, lol). We get a real taste of the family dynamics in this episode - John and Sam fight and come together and fight and come together and Dean’s standing there kinda like, SPONGEBOB!

You know, Plankton! Krabs! Dean Winchester! Right? Anybody?

All sides have good arguments, and I appreciate that none of the conflict between the the three of them feels forced, or at least, it doesn’t feel forced this watch. The fights all come from deep character places that have been established through the whole season. They’re natural progressions of what we’ve come to expect of these characters.

And finally, most importantly, John knows how to defeat the demon that killed their mother. Enter Deus Ex Colt Revolver.

Colt Revolver Ex Machina?

CAN I just take a break for a second to say that BOTH Elkin AND John were ready to WASTE PRECIOUS COLT BULLETS on VAMPIRES, who can be killed IN OTHER WAYS?? Listen, you make a magic gun that only works with these like, 5 BULLETS, and then you just THROW AWAY A BUNCH OF SHOTS, GUYS??? ALSO, what the HELL does Haley’s Comet and The Alamo have to do with this STUPID GUN??? I JUST- you know what, we don’t have time for all that.

Attaining the Colt is the brick they drop on the gas pedal to drive us into the season finale of season 1.

Wasting a some PRECIOUS F*CKIN’ BULLETS, GUYS.

When you look at the season’s pacing at the outset, it seems like it shouldn’t work. I was that person who felt disappointed in each episode where it became clear we were definitely on a side quest, not the main quest. Watching it now, though, I think that pacing is important. Yeah, the Monster-of-the-Week episodes are a little hit and miss, but sometimes you have to think of a TV season like a marathon and not a sprint. There will be times when you pick up the pace, yes, but it’s a long race and you’re gonna need some periods of recovery if you’re gonna make it to the finish line. And frankly, a lot of those side quest episodes ended up being my favorite episodes of the entire series.

NOW. I doubt you would see this sort of structuring in a show today, specifically in shows that don’t get a 22 - 24 episode order. You MAY get, MAY, a Ghostfacers-type episode thrown in after a major emotional climax for that breather effect. MAY. But if Supernatural was made today - probably for an online streaming site, probably with only 10 - 13 season order - I don’t think you’d see episodes like “Something Wicked” or “Provenance” or “Faith”. The nice thing about short seasons is that you can keep the storytelling focused and tight, but I also think that can be a weakness as much as it is a strength. What do those three episodes all have in common? They’re strong on character and relationship development. We, the audience, get a deeper understanding and appreciation of the Winchesters and how they work and grow as a unit in these episodes. So if we’ve watched this far, through bugs and ghost trucks, through all their little victories and major setbacks, we’re well and truly invested in how the season is going to end.

I’m not saying you can’t have big character moments in a shorter season. And I’m not saying that a show more focused on plot, on the What Happens rather than the Who It Happens To, is a bad thing. But watching this season over again in comparison to present day television seasons, it’s highlighted what Supernatural did right. On this side of the series, it’s easy to see why the show went on for another 14 years.

#Supernatural #Supernatural Season 1 #Sam Winchester #Dean Winchester #John Winchester #Hell House #Something Wicked #Provenance #Dead Man's Blood #cw #WB #Televsion #Television History #15 SEASONS #And this is where it all started

2 notes · View notes

ericsonclan · 3 years

Text

A Moment Frozen In Time

Summary: Willy comes up with a special day of fun for himself and Allison.

Word Count: 1947

Read on AO3:

“Just keep your eyes closed a minute longer!” Willy’s voice broke through the stillness in Allison’s mind as she walked hand in hand with him through the winter snow. Her bare feet drifted through the snow silently, completely unaffected by the chill. It was part and parcel of being an ice maiden: she never felt the cold. As they walked though, her nose tickled a bit as snowflakes began to gather atop it. She wrinkled her nose, trying to loosen the buildup without making a sound.

“Oh shit! Your nose!” Willy’s mittened fingers roughly brushed against Allison’s nose, removing the tiny pile of snow building there. “Sorry. I know you mentioned your skin attracts snow, but I didn’t think it’d get clumped on your face like that,” Suddenly his footsteps stopped. “OK, we’re here!”

Allison opened her eyes and saw… nothing. Well, nothing of interest. They were standing outside the gym at Ericson High beside the empty ice-covered football field. No one else was around since the grounds were closed for winter break. Willy stood with his arms outstretched, spinning round slowly as he proudly displayed their surroundings. “I figured what better place to have fun with your ice powers than at our own school but this time with nobody nearby to get trapped in ice!”

“You were the one that got trapped the first time,” Their first encounter back at the beginning of the school year had certainly been memorable with Allison freezing the entire pool and trapping Willy from the chest down in solid ice. They’d been fast friends ever since.

Willy shrugged happily at her point. “True, but I know better now. Besides, right over here by the field is…” he paused as he ran underneath the bleachers to return a moment later toting a hose, “This bad boy! I dropped by the field on my way to pick you up so I could get it out of storage, y’know, cuz they put it away during the winter so the cold doesn’t cause the rubber to get all cracked,”

Allison nodded. “So… what are we doing with it?”

“We’re doing… this!” Willy thrust the hose up in the air with exuberance only to pause when he realized his mistake. “One sec,” He scampered back over toward the bleachers, moving with a sort of waddle thanks to all the layers he was wearing. The sight made a smile tug at the corners of Allison’s lips. It must suck to be a cold-blooded swamp monster in the winter but somehow Willy had the same hyper level of energy as always.

Willy was back in a moment, the hose already dripping slightly from the water pressure. “Like I said, we’re doing this!” Thrusting his hand skyward, Willy pressed the nozzle on the head of the hose, sending tiny streams of water shooting up into the air. As soon as they reached their apex he withdrew the hose and cried, “Hit ‘em, Allie!”

With a flick of the wrist, Allison froze the falling droplets to solid ice. They fell to the ground with a silent plop. The pair stared at them in silence for a moment.

“That. Was. So. Cool!” Willy exclaimed, jumping up and down with glee. “You froze that water like it was nothing!”

“It is nothing,” Allison glanced over at the ice pellets that lay scattered on the ground before them. “They look like ice turds,”

Willy chuckled at the comparison. “I bet we can make them look even cooler! I just need to figure out the settings on this thing and-” he was cut off as a powerful stream of water erupted from the hose, hitting Allison directly in the face. The water froze on impact, covering her entire head in a fractured series of ice crystals.

Willy’s eyes widened as he realized his mistake. “Shit, Allie, I’m sorry! Lemme just… hesitantly he reached forward, pulling on a single piece. It came off effortlessly, the skin below looking as clear and smooth as ever.

“That’s one down. 5,000 more to go,” Allison noted dryly. She could see Willy looked worried at the statement, likely unsure how she was feeling about getting hit in the face. “It’s a joke. I’m bad at them,”

“Oh. Oh!” Willy chuckled in relief. “Thanks for not getting mad,”

“You weren’t mad when I froze you into the pool. How is this any different?”

“Huh. I guess it isn’t. That makes us even then!”

Allison smiled at Willy’s gap-toothed grin. “Cover your face. I’m gonna shake these off,”

Willy complied, immediately hiding his face underneath the confines of his scarf. Allison shook her head vigorously, like a wet dog. The ice crystals went flying everywhere, may sticking all over Willy’s puffy coat and the ear flaps on his cap. Once he sensed it was over, Willy popped out of his fluffy shelter and grinned at his new look. “I’m bedazzled now!”

“You never looked better,” Allison nodded approvingly. “Now what did you actually have in mind with the hose?”

Willy picked up the forgotten hose once more, this time aiming it safely away from the snow maiden. Once he was sure he had the proper setting he turned around. “OK, so the idea I had for your ice powers wasn’t ice turds although that was fun. I wanna go big, with tons of water! That way when you freeze all the water, we’ll have a whole ice sculpture garden!”

Allison’s eyes widened slightly at the thought, a smile flitting across her lips. “I’m in. Let’s do this thing,”

“Awesome! Let’s goooo!!!” Willy shot the hose directly into the air, twirling it like crazy before running out of the path of the falling water. Allison raised her hand and froze the water instantly. The spirals of ice look beautiful as they fell through the air but the entire structure broke into a dozen pieces once it hit the ground.

“Oops,” Willy looked at their shattered art. “Guess I gotta shoot it lower if it’ll last the fall,”

“Or you could aim it in an arc so it ends on the ground. You just have to move the hose in time so I won’t freeze all the water inside it,” Allison gestured to the hose whose dripping faucet was leaking everywhere, including directly onto Willy’s mittens. She didn’t want their fun to suddenly end with a trip to the emergency room and frost burns all over her friend’s hands.

“Yeah, good idea! OK, on the count of three then,” Willy aimed the hose with determination. “One, two… three!”

The arc of water that came from the hose froze perfectly, but immediately plopped on its side instead of sticking to the ground. Allison picked up the giant curved icicle and jammed it into the ground, impaling the frosty AstroTurf. The icicle still slumped over though, a half-hearted version of the glory they aspired to.

“Let’s try it again, this time from the ground up,” Wily suggested, repositioning the hose.

---

It was a series of trails and errors on their path to success. Dozens of attempts fell flat, broke or turned out as lumpy, gnarled messes. Many times, Willy released the water too soon or Allison got dangerously close to freezing something she shouldn’t. Slowly but surely though, their craft improved till finally they achieved one beautiful, clean arc of frozen water rising proudly from the ground. The pair smiled at each other, sharing a fist bump.

“We finally got it! Now the sculpture garden can really begin!” Willy cheered, running to a fresh patch of snow to begin another work of art. Allison followed along with a grin. They were going to fill this whole field.

---

They didn’t fill the whole field, but they did cover a good chunk of it: everything within the hose’s range. As their talent improved, Willy and Allison got more and more daring with their designs, building sculptures branching off from others, spiraling and glistening all over the field. Their laughter filled the air as they threw water all over the place, watching it glisten in midair before freezing it in perfect crystalline form. The sun shone down upon their masterpieces, reflecting off the sculptures and bringing their beauty to its full form. The two young teens danced amongst their creations, adding more and more to their garden as the hours whittled away.

At last the light began to fade, all too early in both their opinions. The pair shared a look as they saw the sun beginning to slip behind the walls of Ericson High. Slowly Willy lowered the hose, looking rather glum. “Guess that’s it for the day, huh?”

“We could come back tomorrow and make more,”

His face lit up at Allison’s suggestion. “That’s right, we could! Would you wanna do that?”

“Sure,” Allison shrugged, her body language nonchalant though her eyes betrayed her.

Willy seemed to notice the glisten in them. He smiled all the brighter. “I had buckets of fun today! Seriously, it was the best!”

Allison couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm; it was contagious. “It was pretty cool,”

“Should I walk you home? I know I promised your dad I’d have you back by curfew,”

Allison waved her hand dismissively. “Curfew’s still hours away. He forgot to adjust for Daylight Savings,”

“Still, we should probably get there before it gets pitch dark,” Willy eyed the sun, squinting suspiciously.

Allison chuckled. It was sweet that he was trying to be responsible. “We can take a minute,”

The two stood together surrounded by their ice creations in the light of the setting sun. The dimmer light seemed to lend a different feeling to its reflection against the ice, more thoughtful, almost nostalgic. Their crowning achievement, a massive archway with several intricate offshoots, soared above their heads, magnificent in its presence. It was a thing of beauty. The two young teens looked up at their masterpiece with pride before their eyes caught one another’s and they both suddenly looked away.

“Thanks, for today,” Allison murmured. “I had a good time,”

“Me too,” Willy’s voice was soft for once, almost reflective.

Allison studied the boy’s face, wondering if she should rethink her current inclination. But she wasn’t one to back down. Following her gut, Allison leaned forward and placed a quick kiss upon Willy’s clammy cheek. Her lips left the faintest mark upon his scaly skin before fading away.

Willy’s eyes widened in shock. He was still for a moment, almost as frozen as their sculptures. Then a goofy chuckle escaped his lips. “I knew it! I knew you liked me!”

Allison shrugged happily, smiling at him. “You got me,”

Willy surged forward, planting an enthusiastic, wet kiss upon Allison’s cheek, the mark freezing instantly against her skin. “I like you too,”

“So… this was our first date then?” Allison asked, looking down with a small smile as she traced the mark on her cheek.

“I guess it was. Did you like it?” Willy asked, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

“Best first date I ever had,”

Willy giggled happily at her words. He eagerly took her hand in his, his mitten feeling warm against her cold skin. “We can walk extra slow on the way back,”

“I’d like that,” Allison gave Willy’s hand the softest squeeze before they began to walk together. Hand in hand they left the sculpture garden behind, the ice still subtly glistening in the evening light. The world was still, nothing existing but the two of them as they exited the field at a slow meander. They were all but gone when suddenly a shout broke through the air.

“Shit, I forgot to put away the hose!”

#twdg #twdg willy #twdg allison #twdg wallie #twdg christmas #fanfic #we are monsters we are proud au #ericsonclanchristmaschallenge

1 note · View note

babystolemyheart-blog1 · 6 years

Text

Chapter 1: Tattered Hearts and Tattoos

Summary: Tattoos hold so many meanings, but they also hold memories, stories and emotions; pain, wonder, awe

Dean Winchester x OFC (Marina)

Trigger Warning!

Child abuse, abuse, cheating, language, angst, sad, tearjerking backstory, child favouritism, just overall sad

Previous: Intro - Innocence

Chapter 1: Walls

Word Count: 1,166

Previously:

In her unconscious state, Marina didn’t hear her brother apologise to her. Nor did she hear her parents stop fighting after her mother had ran off again.

She didn’t hear anything.

Now:

And as the years flew by and she grew up, grew taller and stronger against the beatings, she watched as her mother snuck around, drawn to her phone as she left for work three hours earlier, coming home late after work. When her mother had hopped into the shower, phone on the charger, the hunter in-training had leapt at the chance to find out why she was acting so weird. What she saw and read on that phone was the beginning of her heart breaking, the day she began to construct an iron wall around her heart.

The days that followed were filled with tense looks and sleepless nights. Her mother was cheating on her father. When she brought up the fact to her father, he simply looked at her and shook his head. Almost as if he just didn’t want to know anymore, a look of pure defeat and heartbreak causing her own heart to slowly crack. Another wall went up, made from the gut-wrenching look of complete defeat, the glass slid into place.

“Are you cheating on dad?”

That one question, as straightforward as it was, had caused the house to go quiet. Sitting at the dinner table, with no dad, Marina looked her mother in the eye, gaze not wavering as she stared, the brown of her eyes completely consumed by black rage.

The fight that followed was loud, bloody and gruesome.

The defensive tone of her mother confirmed everything as she began to stutter, face flushed in guilt as she looked towards her son, who was looking at her with disgust evident on his face. As Marina repeated the question, all hell broke loose as plates were thrown, cutlery clattering to the floor as the yells began.

But instead of hiding with her brother, Marina stood fast, knocking the chair back, voice raised and face turning red.

“How could you break this family apart? How could you do this to us, to your kids? Sleeping with some, some fucking piece of shit just so you could feel better!”

As the curses left her mouth, there was no going back. All the anger and hatred from years of being abused came rushing to the surface, slithering out of the dark corners of her mind. She was on a warpath and she wasn’t going to stop until her mother was in shreds at her feet. Another wall wrapped around her heart, this one was made from earth and stone; stronger and unmoving like a mountain.

“You have no right to speak to me that way young lady!”

“I have every fucking right! He is out there saving people and you’re here acting like a brat! People are dying because of those monsters mom! Children are dying, and dad saves them...but you get huffy because he doesn’t come home. Well what about us?

We’re kids! Of course we want him home. But we know that he’s out there for the greater good. How could you cheat on him? We’ve known since the beginning, we just want to know why? Why even bother pretending like everything’s alright when it’s not.

Why not just fucking end it and save us all the pain...all of this betrayal.”

As the words left her mouth, she watched as her mother trembled in shame before she picked up her phone, dialing and unknown number. The room was silent for all of 10 minutes before the front door opened with a bang.

That’s all that Marina can remember from that night. She woke up in a hospital with her brother, asleep at her side, his head next to her hand. It took her a month to recover, with multiple visits back for rehab. Her leg had been broken in three different places, ribs broken, bruises scattered her body and the various cuts to her face would suggest that she’d been in a cage fight. Though the sulfur that was left behind left little to the imagination.

But, as she later found out, that wasn’t true.

Tyler had told her that a group of men had stormed the house, attacking her as he was grabbed by their mother, safe from the dispute. And despite the obvious pain she was in, Marina smiled at her big brother, a small one, but a smile nonetheless.

“At least you weren’t hurt.”

Once she was cleared and completely healed, she returned home with her brother. It was squeaky clean, the bleach smell burning her nostrils as she padded to her room. Once the door was shut, Marina took out the brand new leather journal her father had gifted her for Christmas. And she wrote down everything that had happened. Wrote down the location of the emergency bag of cash she’d stashed incase something happened. Wrote down everything her father had taught her about drifting from place to place, about how to protect herself.

When she turned 13, she added another wall around her crumbling heart, the structure only growing as more metal was added, sealed tight with a lock, the key having been tossed somewhere dark. On a particularly hard hunt, both Marina and Tyler were witness to the death of their father. Having knocked both siblings out, the ghoul had free reign for at least 10 minutes, and by the time Marina had come to, her father’s blood had run cold. After organising the remains of his body onto a pyre, the brother and sister set their father alight, giving him a hunter’s funeral.

The drive home was silent, filled with nothing, not even the comforting lull of music from the radio. With dull eyes, both brother and sister kept their gaze focused on the road, not even acknowledging the dark cloud that began to gather around the tops of their heads. They knew of the coming storms, and tried as best they could to prepare for the forthcoming danger.

When they returned home with the news, silence was all that was met. And then anger. Directed at both children, Lauren Roseanne Cooper became a living, raging storm; frustrated and angry tears streamed down her face as the world was drenched in red. As usual, the whimpering mess that was Marina huddled against the wall, her hand clenched tight around her big brothers, hoping to outlast the pain. But like always, through the blood, sweat and tears...the darkness became a welcoming friend, arms open and willing to take away the pain, if not for a little while.

When she regained consciousness, she clutched desperately at the sheets of the hospital bed, searching for the comforting weight of her brother’s hand.

Looking around the light blue room, Marina’s eyes searched for a figure that wasn’t there; but was at home, safe and sound with a loving, doting mother to wait on hand and foot.

Just like that, all the walls that had been built over time…

Solidified.

And became as permanent as the scars on her body; tattoos that told the story of her young life.

A/N: And that is it for chapter 1!!!! I was at work all day today trying to get over the massive writer’s block I’ve had since last week >.< But hopefully this will suffice...this was written on 4 hours of sleep after an 11 hour work day...so hehe enjoy!!!!

Please again, don’t be afraid to tell me what you think, send me a PM or just leave a reply cuz it’s almost like drinking 10 cups of coffee for me hehe.

As always thank you for taking the time to read this, I really do appreciate it. I can’t wait to see how this turns out!! We’re slowly building to seeing the boys again, almost!!

Until next time lovelies!!

- Ninz

#angsttw: abusetw: languagedean winchesterdean winchester x ofcthe feelsstrong female characterstrong female protagonisthunterspn #angst #tw: abuse #language #dean winchester #dean winchester x ofc #the feels #major feels #strong feel #sad #female protagonist #female hunter #character death #spn #supernatural #omc death #violence #crying

2 notes · View notes

tokyoteddywolf · 7 years

Text

A Blue CatAstrophe Ch.7

AHAHAHAHA I LIVE!!!! Thanks to all the nice people who encouraged me during my little writers block/motivation slump period! Have a chapter with plenty of Shance and Pidge being a geek! :)

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6

Shiro was internally screaming. Very loudly. His head was actually ringing at this point, with Black laughing like crazy in the back of his mind. He was currently pacing his room, face redder than Keith's Lion. Lance was Azul. Lance was a cat. The very same cat that had calmed him from a nightmare and slept in his bed on his chest. Black very kindly told him that he should calm himself before he overheated and fainted. He kept pacing, half sure there were marks from his shoes on the ground from the rate at which he was going, back and forth in an oval. He stopped pacing and hid his face in his hands with a groan.

He was not handling this crush well at all. At first, during the whole Balmera incident, he'd just been worried over a teammate, but then he'd felt something flutter in his heart when Lance had come out of that coma to shoot Sendak. And then it slowly evolved from there into a full blown crush with every laugh, every smile, and though he'd tried to push it down, it never worked, and eventually he'd wanted to start pulling a Keith and punch every alien Lance flirted with in the face out of pure impulse and spite. Which was why he hadn't wanted Lance on Kolkar at the alliance meeting, because he didn't know if he could handle seeing Lance flirt with another alien again. He didn't think he'd be able to stop himelf from bitch-slapping someone with his activated arm if he saw one more damn sentient being actually flirting back with the gorgeous Blue Paladin.

He smacked his head into the wall at his own thoughts. With a sigh, he decided to go work off some of these emotions at the training deck, then go check on Pidge. He rubbed his forehead, and headed out.

Pidge dashed about the room, setting up testing areas and hooking up wires to Green, her laptop running a hundred codes a minute as she processed the pollen, and Lance was exhausted just watching her. So, he settled for sprawling lazily across the warm keyboard of the laptop and purred at the heat spreading through his fur, and fell into a sort of half-asleep state, ears pricked and listening to Pidge babble to herself in Science mumbo-jumbo.

“Okay Lance! I need you to step into this scanner real quick.” Pidge explained, motioning to one of the weird metal boxes that were open at both ends, and was hooked up to the computer. Lance grumbled and got up from his napping spot, moving towards the box and stepping through, moving slowly as Pidge instructed him. Pidge hummed and sent the results to Coran, who was using a tablet to communicate with the youngest Paladin from down on Kolkar, and began flipping through a microscope with the pollen on a slide. Lance stood nearby, ready to shove Pidge aside in she accidentally breathed it in. Wait, hold on a minute. Lance jumped down, padded over to where she'd left her packet of surgical masks with Green, and started nudging it towards his tiny teammate.

Pidge looked up, and grinned. “Oh yeah! Thanks Lance. I almost forgot to put one of those on. Good thing Coran worked it out when I told him I needed something like this. The replication part of the ship is fascinating! I'll have to see how that works later...” She said cheerfully, then slid on a mask over her mouth and nose, testing her breathing for a minute before nodding and going back to the slide, Lance staying close by on the little table.

“Hmm… yeah, looks like this was made to specifically alter genetic structures into it's most primitive form, and I guess the most primitive form on Kolkar is some sort of feline-esque creature.” Pidge muttered, stepping back from the microscope and beginning to pace back and forth in front of Lance, who was now lying on the table, tail twitching idly as he watched her move back and forth.

“But, thanks to Blue and her Quintessence, plus you not being from Kolkar, it just edited you into a cat by tearing apart your current- at the time, at least- cellular structure and rebuilt it from scratch… Lance, dude, holy shit. How are you even alive?!?” Pidge yelped, turning to her fluffy companion and scooping him up, shaking him in astonishment. Lance hissed, disliking the sudden movement. His ears pricked up when he heard the door slide open and Shiro walked in.

Pidge whirled on him, trapping Lance in her arms and leaving his hind legs and tail to dangle free, the cat himself looking very uncomfortable by this. “Shiro! Man, you won't believe this! Lance shouldn't even be alive! The pollen doesn't just change your DNA, it completely strips it down and rebuilds everything from scratch!!! His entire cellular structure was rearranged in less than an hour 'cuz he got covered in so much pollen! Blue's Quintessence merely made the change happen faster because he couldn't feel it, which I guess was Blue's primary objective when she did it, but it also kept him alive! If a normal human went through that, they'd be dead!” Pidge trilled, as Shiro steadily got paler and paler at the news.

“Uh… lucky Lance, I guess?” The Black Paliadin asked, somehow keeping the shudder out of his voice. Pidge let Lance go and turned back to her computer, quickly typing out notes. Lance grumbled at her and trotted over to where Shiro had slid against the wall to sit down and process the information. He jumped into Shiro's lap and mewed questioningly, worried at Shiro's pale face and shaky breaths. He was immediately cradled in two arms, and a face was buried into his fur, again. They really had a thing for his fur, didn't they?

“So I pretty much almost got you killed.” The words that were muttered into his back had his ears flicking back to make sure he had heard correctly. “I am so sorry, Lance. This is all my fault… I made you feel bad enough that you ran off and got caught up in all of this… I should have tried to be more considerate of your feelings and listened and been more encouraging… maybe then you'd still be human and not...” The leader of Voltron let out a shaky breath. Lance mewed and wriggled until he could nuzzle Shiro's face, purring up a storm and trying to convey that it wasn't his fault.

Blue rumbled in agreement, though she did also add that he should have included Lance in more missions than he did. Overprotective much? He huffed at her for that. There was no way in Hell, Heaven or high water that Shiro felt the same as Lance. Nope. Nu-uh. No way. Blue laughed, saying that he was certainly funny if he believed that. Lance lashed his tail and told her to hush, grumbling under his mental breath.

Suddenly, Coran burst into the room, half dragging Allura and a vial of purple shimmery liquid. “We've figured it out! Pidge! I need some help with this, but I believe that if we create a batch of this that's diluted for human use, we can cure Lance! If we manage to figure that out, then Allura can use her ability of Quintessence manipulation and reverse the change!” The excited Altean trilled loudly, Allura nodding in agreement as she pulled out of her Advisor's grasp. Pidge looked up and nodded excitedly. “Perfect! I was just running calculations on what exactly would be needed to dull down any pain felt during the reversal process.” She chirped, pushing up her glasses and grinning. She looked over at Shiro, who was looking much better now. “Shiro, hold onto Lance for a minute while we set everything up?” She asked, smiling at the nod the Black Paladin gave her in response.

Both man and cat watched in fascination as Pidge and Coran talked biology and schematics for diluting the antidote, as apparently that plant, called Felisiviny, had turned plenty of unwary Kolkarians into a cat like creature called a devecias, which were like a cross between a lynx and a tiger and a German Shepherd with scarlet macaw feathers along its ears and tail, along the jaw fringe too. Then, Shiro and Lance were dragged to the med pods, where Coran programed one to the proper dilution percentage, fed in half the vial, and pulled Lance from a reluctant Shiro's arms and started up the med pod.

Allura got ready, as the antidote had to be breathed in, and Lance was set at the bottom of the pod. He looked up, mewing in concern. “We'll see you soon, buddy. Don't be afraid. Allura will fix you right up, okay?” Shiro soothed, giving Lance one last head rub before standing back and letting the pod seal shut. Lance yowled and put his paws up on the glass, panicking as purple mist flooded the chamber.

“Allura, now! For as long as you can, just picture Lance as his normal human self.” Coran instructed, as Allura glowed with the golden light of Quintessence. She held out her hands, and focused on Lance. Pidge secretly hit the mute button on the pod, because she knew this was gonna hurt, and she didn't want to be haunted by Lance's screams. Shiro tapped his metal fingers against his arm, worried and pale again.

It was a mere 12 hours before Allura gave out, her powers still relatively new. She panted and slumped to the ground, wheezing and exhausted. “I- I have done what I could, but manipulating two similar streams of Quintessence that are deeply entertwined is harder than it first seems.” She explained, as Coran helped her to her feet. Keith and Hunk had wandered down during this, and everyone waited with baited breath (and Hunk with an extra pair of boxers for Lance) as the pod opened up and spilled purple mist.

Shiro was the first one forward as a human shape fell out of the pod and into his arms, Hunk right next to him and draping a blanket over the shaking form that was clutching onto Shiro like a lifeline. Shiro inhaled sharply as a soft, fluffy shorthaired chocolate colored tail with lighter brown stripes brushed against his leg, and pointy cat ears flicked up and heard the noise he made. Lance, human yet with cat ears and a tail, who stopped shaking and went limp, unconscious. Shiro really hoped he wasn't blushing right now, because if it wasn't the cutest thing he'd ever seen in his life then he might as well shoot himself out into space this very second.

“Oh dear. Perhaps I did not untangle the knot of energy as well as I thought I did.” Allura murmured from the back. The shocked silence was broken by Pidge and Hunk's twin cooing noises and Keith's “Holy quiznak, what the hell-”. Shiro really wished the universe would give him a break here.

Black laughed.

// *RISES FROM THE ASHES OF WRITERS BLOCK LIKE A PROUD AND BLOODSTAINED WARRIOR* I LIVE~! Also I come bearing Shance and cat eared Lance :) So uh, how is Lance gonna react to all of this? I dunno, you'll have to wait and see ;)

#I WRITE AGAIN!#writer block free!#Cat AU #shance #cat!Lance #pidge is a nerd/geek #voltron #enjoy!!!

170 notes · View notes