#that said I’m EXTREMELY enjoying the cosmic horror of it all

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒.

DAY SEVEN OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN

prompt: cosmic horror au + western au + "you're a fucking nightmare. kiss me."

pairing: jack daniels x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, soft enemies to lovers

summary: with celestial dancers ensnaring victims with entrancing performances that lead innocents away from their homes. Jack and you, cowboy sheriffs with a history of discord, leave town in search of the missing people.

word count: 3.5k

warnings: daddy kink, mirror sex (kinda there's a mist that imitates your desires and copies your movements so technically it's like a mirror but without a reflective surface), outdoor sex, piv, hint of horror imagery, dirty talk, size kink (jack is a big boy in every universe fight me)

a/n: sorry y'all this is unedited but hopefully i didn't make too many mistakes! enjoy xx

“I still don’t understand why we need to go together. I’m completely capable on my own.” 

On cue, Starlight whinnies and shakes her head, her disagreement apparent. You frown at the horse, “You’re supposed to be on my side,” you quip, refusing to look at Jack whose laughter rings out. 

The lanterns you have on each horse illuminate the road ahead but do little in actually illuminating your surroundings. Shadows linger in every corner. The sky, despite still having the sun up, is a dusty copper, dark clouds swirling and forming shape of all watching eyes. The world had become an odd place. Humans were mere ants now, easy to crush beneath the forces out of your control. Distance between towns had become wide, each town having deputies to protect the innocents within. Dangerous weapons had been forged to fight against the evil and given to every sherrif in town. 

Lately people have been gone missing. In the dead of night celestial dancers would just stand at the edge of town, ensnaring victims with entrancing performances to take them far away from their homes. You didn’t ask what these dancers did to the ones they captured, you assumed it wasn’t anything pleasant. 

You and Jack being the more talented sheriffs of the town had been picked to locate said missing people. The further you two traversed away from town, the more menacing and confusing the world around you became. The darkness moves. Creatures of all kinds snarling and drooling within the deep forests. 

“I know you’re capable, sugar,” Jack remarks, he expertly guides his horse, bringing the two of you into closer proximity. The rhythmic sound of hooves fills the air as you draw near. “But you must admit, this is a dangerous job.” 

You only shrug, “Beats being here with you.” 

“You hate me that much that you’d be willin’ to die?” he says with a lazy grin. “That’s a bit extreme, even for you.” 

“I doubt this is going to be that hard. You just like teasing me.” 

“Hmmm maybe. . . but I blame you for that, sugar. You’re too fun to tease.” 

A loud sigh parts your lips and you shake your head. Jack was and always will be insufferable. In all honesty, Jack wasn’t so bad. He just had a talent for getting under your skin. But you had to admit, your frustrations with him had been shifting into something else, something like desire, for a while now. 

Your fingers tighten around the reins. You’ve been trying really hard to ignore the flutter in your stomach whenever he was around, you’d never hear the end of it if he figured it out. 

“Shut up,” you grumble, lowering the front of your hat. “You’re incorrigible.” You glance over at Jack, who's trying to stifle his laughter but failing miserably. Your frown deepens. 

“Incorrigible?” he snorts. “So sophisticated with your insults today, should I be flattered?” 

“I’m just running out of words to insult you with.” 

His smile falters slightly, annoyance creasing between his brows, “Funny.” 

Jack’s annoyance brings a smile to your face. You’re about to say more, eager to get under his skin just like he does yours, but suddenly he lifts a hand and halts his horse. You do the same, tightening the reins until Starlight comes to a full stop. 

He presses his forefinger slowly to his lips and points ahead with the other. Goosebumps raising across your skin, your gaze turns to the dirt road. 

There’s nothing. 

Until there’s something. 

The first thing you notice is the eyes; they’re red dots, gleaming and staring into your soul. 

Then you notice the antlers sprouting from behind the skull of the long figure. Two of them curling around its jaw. It's wearing a long cloak, the type similar to what you and Jack wear when the weather is turning cold. The light of your lanterns reflects on the figure, 

Panic flaring in your gut, your eyes snap to Jack. He’s only staring. Calm and steady. “Look down,” he mouths without looking at you. 

The silence is deafening. You look at the eerie figure again, its hand now stretched towards you both as if beckoning you to come closer. It’s a bony hand, a sickly grayish-green. You hold your breath and lower your gaze. Your lids flutter in surprise as you notice the sheep at the figure's feet. They have horns just like him, and have the same glowing red eyes. The animals stare at you, not a sound coming from them. 

Shepard of the Voidborne, your mind whispers to you. You were told that he was once human and after being driven out of his mind, became one of the cosmic horrors that lurked all around. He had his sheep and that was pretty much it. He only came out during the night. The shepard was harmless for the most part but if you made a sound or attacked, your death was immediate. 

The tricky part was that you had to sense him before he came. You had to catch the stillness of the wind, the sudden silence that befell, and the scent of the dead. 

You didn’t notice any of that. 

But Jack had. 

The Shepard and his sheep stare at you long enough that it feels like forever. He never lowers his hand, the invite always there if you were stupid enough to take it. 

You fight against letting out a breath of relief when he finally turns away, the sheep mimicking him. Fear coating your tongue, you close your eyes and focus on your heartbeat instead, willing it to become silent. 

He doesn’t make a sound as he leaves and you only realize that when Jack gently touches your cheek, pulling you back to reality. 

“He’s gone, darlin’,” he says surprisingly soft. “You’re safe.” 

His fingers curl towards the back of your ear, palm cradling the side of your face, warmth spreads. Your breath hitches and you quickly avert your gaze, “I see that,” you say sharply. “Let’s go.” 

“Lead the way, ma’am,” Jack muses as you do exactly that, his gaze glinting with mischief. 

You try not to think about the lingering warmth left on your cheek. 

The horses are tethered nearby, and the lanterns cast a warm glow around your small circle of safety. You set up a modest fire, its crackling flames pushing back the encroaching darkness.

Jack produces a bottle of whiskey from his saddlebag. He uncorks it and offers it to you with a grin. "Care for a drink, sugar? I figure we've earned."

You accept the offer, taking the bottle and taking a long, deep swig before passing it back. The warm burn of the whiskey helps chase away the lingering chill of fear from your encounter with the Shepard.

Jack settles down beside you, close enough that your shoulders brush. He gazes into the flames, lost in thought for a moment. Then, he turns his attention to you, his eyes softening with concern. "You okay, sugar?"

“I guess,” you mutter. “I didn’t notice him.” 

“Who? The Shepard?” 

You nod and he shrugs, “He’s a hard bastard to notice. It ain’t your fault.” 

“That’s not an excuse. I should’ve sensed him. . . somehow.” 

He chuckles softly, his fingers idly tracing patterns in the dirt. "Well, you know, I've got the devil's luck. Besides, I've got you to watch my back. When I’m with you I’m more alert, darlin’."

“So you really do think I’m incompetent?” 

Sitting by the fire, you both share the bottle, taking turns. You can't help but notice how the flickering firelight plays across Jack's features, casting his rugged face in a warm, inviting glow. You feel slightly ashamed for how you’re acting. Deep down you know this has nothing to do with Jack thinking you’re not good enough, but with the growing knot in your stomach, you need to divert your emotions into something more violent. 

“The only thing I know is that I wanna protect you more than I want to do myself.” 

Your heart skips a beat, your breath suddenly coming in short and fast. You swallow around the knot quickly forming in your throat. 

"Well, aren't you just a regular knight in shining armor?" you huff in mock annoyance, attempting to lighten the weight of his words. 

But Jack doesn't take the bait this time. Instead, he surprises you with a genuine, soft smile. "You're strong, no doubt about it. But even the strongest folks deserve a bit of pampering now and then, don't they?"

You're momentarily taken aback by his sincerity, the hint of vulnerability. Jack reaches out and gently brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch feather-light.

"Jack, you don't have to treat me like I'm made of glass," you murmur, your irritation fading as you meet his warm gaze.

He leans in a little closer, his voice barely above a whisper. Your eyes drop to his lips and move back to meet his gaze again."I know you're tough as nails, but that doesn't mean I can't be here for you. We all need someone to lean on, sugar."

You find yourself lost in his eyes, the flickering firelight dancing in them, and for a moment, you let your guard down.

"You're a fucking nightmare,” you smile, heart rapid in your chest. “Kiss me."

The chaos, the darkness, the shadows—all of it stands still. Jack closes the distance, soft lips covering yours, his tongue traces the seam of your lips. He’s not at all how you imagined. He’s not rushing you. Instead, he’s taking his sweet time memorizing the curve of your lips with the tip of his tongue. 

Only when you moan does he slip his tongue between your swollen lips, licking himself further into your mouth. He cradles your face with both hands, thumbs moving down as if tracing tear streaks down your cheeks. 

Neither of you notices the thick fog starting to accumulate around you. A sinister whisper crackling within the gray. It settles around you. Listening to your needy whimpers and Jack’s groans—it observes, takes in the desire reflected in your features, and shapes begin to form. 

The fire goes out with a loud sizzle. 

“Fuck—” Jack hisses, pulling away, hand moving to grab his gun. He pulls you close. You’re still tasting him on your lips, dazed and confused as to what’s happening. There’s a moment of silence between you two, your surroundings illuminated only by the lanterns. 

The fog is unnaturally thick. You hear sounds; breathy and intoxicating. The voices grow louder, a tingle spreads over the back of your neck, and you notice that they’re oddly familiar—

Your cheeks burn when you notice they’re the sound of your moans. Both Jack’s and yours. The shapes are still forming, only mere silhouettes of two people perched on top of a log, their poses the same as yours.  

“Eidolon Veil,” you mumble, drawing Jack’s attention to you. “I heard of it, never actually saw it before.” 

“What is it?” he grunts a response, hand still on your waist. “And why the hell is it moanin’?” 

“It’s harmless,” you answer. “It’s a reflective fog that takes the shape of those within its circle and mimics their desires as well.” 

Jack snorts, lowering his gun, “So what, you’re tellin’ me this mist is gonna show us fuckin’ like rabbits soon?” 

You turn to him, a hint of mischief in your eyes, “If that’s what you desire, then yes,” you grin. “Though the image becomes vivid only if the people actually go through with it. If not it’ll only show a preview and move on to its next target,” you raise an eyebrow at him. “You really don’t know what it is?” 

“I don’t research the creepy crawlies as much as you do,” he croaks. “Are you sure it’s harmless? In this world nothin’ is.” 

“I think it has to do with substance,” you say. “Desire keeps it from dissolving entirely. So it’s basically looking for food.” 

An especially sharp moan echoes from the mist and you involuntarily press your thighs together, arousal growing between your legs. Jack also shudders at the sound. He palms himself through his pants, your eyes dropping to where his cock strains against the thick fabric.

“Let's give it something to choke on then.” 

Throwing all caution into the wind, you two strip down eagerly, your mouths always a breath away. The figures within the fog become more tangible, you can see yourself clearly now, your face painted with want and arousal. You get on all fours and the mirage does the same, Jack is on his knees right behind you, hand slipping between your legs. He traces his fingers up and down soaked folds, circling your clit, you feel the heft of him over the curve of your ass. 

Your breath hitches as he pushes two fingers into you, electricity crackles over your skin, a moan parting your lips further. The mirage mimics every sound and movement, and watching it turns you on in a way you didn’t think was possible. 

“Fuck, look at you,” Jack coos. “Such a sight—and so darn wet.” 

He fucks his fingers deeper into you and pulls them out slowly. Jack leans over to kiss the skin between your shoulder blades, the movement of his fingers slow as he works you open. Your head falls and you arch your back, wanting more. He doesn’t stop until you’re a sopping, trembling mess. Slick drips down his fingers and all the way down to his wrists. 

When you look at the mirage, the Jack within the fog makes you taste yourself on his fingers. 

Your Jack hums pleasantly, pulling out, he traces the plush of your lips with wet fingers before slipping them into your mouth. You suck eagerly, your cunt fluttering at the lewdness of it. 

He cups your neck and pulls you up so that you’re flush against his chest, your pulse quickens as he presses his lips against your ear, “You think you can take me, darlin’?” he asks and kisses your cheek. 

“Y–Yeah,” you whimper, the fog echoing your answer. 

You haven’t gotten a good look at him yet but you do feel him. He’s thick and hard, dragging his cock up and down your slit. You shudder as the head catches against your clit, making you gasp. “You’re drippin’ sweetheart,” he says with a grin, breath tickling your neck. “And you’re shakin’, worried I’m too big?” 

His voice drips with sarcasm and glee, he teases your entrance with the head, smearing precome over the sensitive skin. You gasp and feel your nipples tighten, without thinking you spread your legs further. 

“Yes!” your mirage echoes your thoughts. You let out a deep exhale, blood rushing to your cheeks. “You’re so big, Jack—It won’t fit. . .” 

“Is that right now?” he murmurs, dragging the curve of his nose down your neck. “You say it. I want to hear your voice.” 

You clear your throat. Beads of sweat gather at your tailbone, “Y–You’re big,” you whimper and as a reward he cups both your breasts, playing with your nipples.  “I don’t know if it’ll fit. It’s been a while.” 

He takes a sharp inhale, “I’ll make it fit,” he growls, exhaling his breath simultaneously. 

With that, Jack sinks into you. 

He sucks on your neck and continues to gently pinch your nipples, waiting for your to adjust to his size. “That’s it,” he purrs, licking the salt from your skin. “You feel so good around me, sugar. Look at how fucked out you look already.” 

He holds your jaw and tilts your head up, you clench as you see yourself. He was right. You look utterly fucked out; kiss-swollen lips parted, chest heaving and glistening with sweat. 

“Jack,” you whimper. “Move, please.” 

“Okay, sweetheart,” he soothes you, lips pressing against your neck before letting you go. Your palms fall to the ground. “You’re made for me, pretty girl, don’t you forget it.” 

Before you can say anything, he pulls back his hips and slams into you with force. Your fingers dig into the soil, your body going rigid before becoming loose again. Jack fucks you thoroughly, slowing down while pulling out only to snap forward. He’s loud. Growls and grunts bouncing off of his clenched teeth, he holds on to your waist and the mirage echoes it. 

With every thrust, he knocks the air from your lungs. Pleasure swirls in your stomach, shirt circuits your brain. Your lips part wide with a series of moans, your breasts tingling. Your senses narrow on the way his cock fills you, how deep he is inside, and how you just want to scream—not his name necessarily, but something you can address him as. 

With both your and your mirage's moans getting louder and louder, your mind whirls. You’re gushing with every thrust, your orgasm rapidly building. 

Daddy, your mind suddenly shouts. Your body tenses, your cunt squeezing around him in away that it forces the slows of his thrust. Jack groans at the overwhelming tightness, his cock pulsing. You watch the mirrored reflection, see the veins popping in his neck, see the debauched look of his face. 

Daddy. 

“F-Fuck—” you rasp when Jack resumes his thrust, faster and harder than before. He smacks your ass, pain blossoming over the skin. 

Then suddenly you hear it. 

It’s your voice but not your lips that moves. 

“Again—Daddy—” the voice is strained, as if your replica is equally as embarrassed as you are. 

He stops and you see his confusion in the fog. “W-What?” he murmurs. You shake your head, your frustration growing as you press your lips tight together. Jack smoothes his palm over your back. “What did you just call me, sugar?” 

You clear your throat, “Technically it wasn’t me,” you say weakly. Jack smiles as he drags blunt nails down your skin, your body reacts and arches towards him. You sigh. “It was a mistake.” 

“Not it wasn’t,” he quips. “You said so remember? The thing about the veil mimicking our desires?” he doesn’t wait for your answer as he bends over, covering your body with his. He whispers, “You can call me, daddy, if you want to. I don’t mind, darlin’. In fact, I like it.” 

You nod and he slowly drags himself out, and equally slowly pushes back in, “Use your words.” 

“Yes, d-daddy,” you gasp, the word hits your tongue just right. 

Jack draws back again, satisfaction pooling in his eyes. He grins and a part of you can’t help but feel flustered. “That’s what I want to hear,” he kisses the back of your shoulder and continue to move inside of you. 

The sensation of his thick cock sliding in and out of you sends shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body. You moan in pleasure as your orgasm builds with each thrust. He grips your hips, thrusting harder and faster as your orgasm nears its peak. You can barely keep your balance as the waves of pleasure wash over you in a glorious chorus of bliss.

“Oh—daddy—” you sigh, your tongue loose. The fog picks up your moan, echoing your words. You bite your lip as his hands move from your hips to your chest, massaging your breast with each thrust. 

“Look at that face,” he says with a moan, forcing your gaze up. “Gonna come for me, pretty girl?” he teases. You nod helplessly, your body burning from the inside out. “Then ask for it, sugar.” 

“P-Please, daddy, make me come,” you moan, you’re pleasantly helpless under him. “Pleasepleaseplease—” 

With one final thrust, you tip over the edge; your orgasm rattles through your body accompanied by a series of groans and daddy’s. Adrenaline rushes through your system—your toes curl, your neck arches and your eyes roll back as pleasure washes through you. 

The mirage echoes every sound as Jack pumps his cum into you. He lifts you by the shoulder, forcing your head towards him as he claims your lips in a heated kiss. He swallows your moans, your whimpers and sucks your tongue until you’re compeltly pliant against him. 

Once he’s finished, the fog starts to dissipate until it’s only the two of you, lying in the dirt, panting, the fire alive once again. Jack kisses the top of your head before pulling out, and you look away, his spend drips from you, making a mess between your thighs, your face heats up. 

He tenderly cradles the side of your. Jack smiles and you can’t help but smile as well, burying your face into his palm. 

“That was—damn,” you manage to say. You blink and sit up, looking around you. There’s nothing but darkness and the sound of crickets. 

“Seems like your daddy took care of you,” Jack purrs, pecking your lips before pulling you into an embrace. You glare at him as he nuzzles your neck. 

“If you mention that to anyone else I’ll kill you.” 

He laughs whole heatedly, “I don’t kiss and tell, sweetheart. Don’t you worry that pretty head of yours.” 

“So the Eidolon Veil moved on,” you say, changing the subject. “I guess it was well fed.” 

“It seems like it,” he responds, kissing your forehead. Your heart flutters. “C’mere, let’s get you dressed before you catch a cold. We still have a whole lot of investigatin’ to do tomorrow.”

“Can’t we just stay like this? A little longer?” 

He kisses your temple this time, his warmth seeping into your back. “‘Course we can, darlin’.” 

You lean into his embrace and he manages to pull one of the blankets from his pack, covering you. Your eyes trail the stars in the sky. 

Little moments of peace like this are worth savoring just a bit longer.

#jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x female reader #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x female reader #kingsman the golden circle fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fic #hauntedhoedown

[maxwell-grant]

I’ve really enjoyed your writings on JJBA. You got me to see characters like Dio and Jonathan in ways I never thought of. If you’re still up for Bingo, I’d love to hear your thoughts on Giorno

Thank you! I still want to keep doing these, now that my JoJo hyperfixation is back and won't leave me alone for the time being.

I've always really, really loved Giorno, even back when he was pretty universally-panned in fandom circles as the default worst JoJo. The bad scanlations of Vento Aureo and how they butchered the Western popularity of that part are a story everyone's familiar with by now but, honestly? I don't think the fixed scans are what did it for Giorno. I don't even think it was the anime on it's own. I'd argue the main thing that changed Giorno's reception would be the change of voice actor for the anime.

Because for the longest time the main problem fandom had with Giorno was the idea that he was boring, that he was too dispassionate and unemotional and devoid of personality, and for a long time the only frame of reference they had for the character was the manga scanlation, that really did butcher everyone’s dialogue and personality, and All-Star Battle/Eyes of Heaven, with Daisuke Namikawa doing a decent job as the character but not doing much to dissuade people’s perception of Giorno as monotone. In the aftermath of the anime setting the record straight with Kensho Ono’s performance, and especially those goddamn beautiful WRRYYYEAHs he’s doing, that no longer seems to be as big of a complaint as it used to be. I’m not saying the anime “fixed” Giorno, not in the slightest, the anime basically just adapted what was always there for a much bigger audience, and so people got to see more of Giorno’s sides. Most crucially how emotive and expressive he is, and how funny the 15-year old revolutionary gangster can be.

I’m certainly not saying every criticism levied at Vento Aureo was unfounded, I still need to sit down and reread/rewatch it entirely, but consistently I always thought Giorno ruled. He’s got one of my absolute favorite powersets in the series and one that Araki really, really squeezes versatility out of (to the point I’d still argue Requiem really wasn’t that necessary to defeat Diavolo), I like that he’s built to thrive just as much when he takes a backseat to the action and acts as the planner / support for other characters to rally around and find their own strength, I love all of his dynamics within Bruno’s Gang. I love that he’s scary, actually fucking scary, even besides the whole cosmic horror GER brings to the table, even besides the fact that his normal powerset involves pulling snakes and scorpions and insects out of thin air to hurt and kill people.

He’s the most cutthroat JoJo by leaps and bounds, one who actively grew up wanting to be not just a criminal kingpin, but THE criminal kingpin of his country, one who would employ said resources for the betterment of society. One of the very first battles he’s in, he defeats a villain by going behind his associate’s back and tricking said villain into eating a gun and blasting his brains out. He lies, he bribes, he maims. He has a beetle eat the brain of a serial killer right after turning back on his promise of leaving said killer alive, he even suggests killing civilians if they get in the way of the mission. His selflessness is just as terrifying too, he unhesitatingly chops off his limbs and dives neckfirst into razor blades to assist his partners and eventual friends. He risks death over the prospect of leaving anyone behind, he’s driven to extremes caused by his rage and disgust over innocents and children being victimized by the drug trade, his plans are mind-boggling and brutal and powerful, matched only by his capacity for rallying morale and inspiring others. He’s DIO’s son with Joestar spirit, someone who takes after both, a Noble Champion of the Sun as much as he’s Evil Charisma. The next step in DIO’s evolution.

Giorno kinda feels to me like Araki going back to not just DIO the bedazzling immortal megavillain who rules the world, not even just Dio Brando the enfant terrible turned scourge of humanity, but Mashonen B.T, Araki’s early manga love letter to Sherlock Holmes about a charismatic genius bad boy who uses trickery and underhanded tactics to outfox and defeat opponents, mostly known nowadays for being Dio’s direct prototype in almost every way right down to the design, poses, clothing, etc, a short-lived character who was too controversial a protagonist for Shonen Jump at the time. Araki’s gone back to Dio a lot over every part exploring the facets of his existence and Giorno is one of them, one that allowed him to go all the way back to the initial bad boy protagonist he had and redo him accordingly. A Dio who wasn’t born Evil Incarnate, who didn’t grow up to become this century-wide bloodline cancer and embodiment of fate and gravity center of all that is evil and bizarre, who got to once again apply his talents and smarts against those worse than himself. 

And this is kind of related to why I think Giorno loses a lot of what makes him important and thematically interesting when he’s made out to be the son of Jonathan as well, even though it’s an idea I do like. Because Giorno’s whole deal is that he’s the son of the Ultimate Evil who grows up into something much better. Part 5′s big theme is people dealt with bad circumstances breaking free, breaking free from the chains of fate and the burdens imposed on them, with Giorno as the one who did it first and then went on to help Buccellati and others do the same. 

Jotaro Kujo, the protagonist of the third series Stardust Crusaders, leavesfor his journey already accepting the bond that links him to his grandfather and his grandfather’s great-grandfather (Jonathan’s father) – there are six generations between them. In this case we can affirm that Dio Brando, the enemy, represents Destiny and Fate.

While i was writing the fifth series, Vento Aureo, i asked myself how the simple fact to be born could have been something to be sad of for someone. Men can’t decide to be born or not. Just like some might be born in happy families, others grow up in awful environments.

So, what should these people do, if Destiny and Fate are something that someone else, like a God or some Great Law who rules the universe and the stars, had already decided for them? 

This is the main theme that revolves around Vento Aureo and the same theme that the protagonists and their enemies must deal with.

Giorno, Buccellati, Fugo, Narancia, Abbacchio and Mista. Each one of them grew up or if we want to be more accurate, was forced to grow up, against their will, at the margin of society. I think its the same for Trish, the daughter of the Boss. 

Will they (Giorno & Co.) be able to fight Destiny and Fate and to change them? While i was working on this series i kept thinking about it. - Vento Aureo post-scriptum

Giorno is DIO’s ultimate legacy, like Pucci, tuned in a completely opposite direction. He grows up to become like DIO, but better. He is a brilliant, skilled genius, who applies his intelligence towards helping others and working for the betterment of society in a way neither Dio nor the Joestars ever really did. He is someone who is able to convince others to lay down their lives for him without a moment’s hesitation, because he makes friends and partners and unhesitatingly lays down his life for their sake in return. He is charming, attractive and charismatic, traits that make him a great leader and one who allows others around him to thrive and find their own strength. He heals himself and others efficiently without using vampirism. He creates life instead of consuming it, he fights with nature instead of perverting it. He stands proud in the sunlight instead of cowering from it. He is terrifyingly determined, and applies said horrific determination for far greater purposes than just stripping flesh from the weak and flexing over cadavers. 

He caps this off by attaining the actual strongest Stand in existence, with no equal to oppose him, and by taking command over the world’s largest criminal empire. He is DIO, but better, and not just morally. Him being the son of DIO who goes on to inherit many of his father’s traits, and apply them for the sake of good, is a powerful statement of intent right out the gate and sets the tone for all the big ideas Vento Aureo’s playing with. His moral greyness, the ways in which he shows us how good he is at lying and cheating and killing, and his abject refusal to endanger innocents and children and cross certain lines, are instrumental to what makes the character work. 

Which is something you don’t really get to that effect, if he’s the son of Jonathan. If he’s directly a Joestar, you don’t really get the idea that he was someone born to a terrible fate who was able to turn this fate around for the better, instead it becomes more like he was a JoJo tainted by DIO’s intrusion into the bloodline, and that his DIO-isms serve to make him lesser rather than be instrumental to what makes him better than his father. It makes his existence tied up in DIO’s transgressions against the Joestars, rather than DIO as an entity and bottomless wellspring of evil in his own right, and it places Giorno in a kind of unwanted place almost as a bastard of two families at once. 

I do understand where it comes from in that, it’s sorta like that trope you see in fantasy for young adults or children sometimes where a character raised by neglectful or abusive parents eventually discovers their “true” heritage, like some great hero dad that couldn’t be around for them or a saintly mother who died before they were born, and this becomes sort of a catalyst for their own rise into heroism. I think it’s kind of like that, when people think of Giorno as Jonathan’s son or someone whose real father is Jonathan. 

That desire for Giorno to have something like a proper family, to have someone he takes his heroism from (rather than just a vague Joestar spirit), to make it so that he doesn’t have to be the son of a wretched disease of a man (and the implication that being so makes him lesser). I truly do understand parts of where this fantasy comes from, the idea that Giorno should be able to disown DIO and have a real father who’s not, well, DIO, but I truly do like that Araki avoided this route and that he never had it be ambiguous that Giorno is DIO’s son, Joestar spirit or not. 

Giorno’s story is that he was born into awful circumstances, mistreated and abused and neglected by everyone around him, and undergoing ensuing death of personality as early as the age of 2 that put him well on his way to either being dead, or being rotten to the core like his father, before a random stroke of fate gave him the chance to rise above and let his soul shine as he’d found a dream to believe in. He’d go on to provide this kind of assistance towards others around him, including a girl who herself was born from a vastly powerful ultimate villain. Giorno would go on to defeat and dethrone said ultimate villain and usurp his reign, and in the process, achieve exactly what DIO spent the past century and a half striving for. He’d surpass his fate, surpass his bloodline, and become number one, and he ends his story seated on a throne, waiting patiently as the world lines up to bend the knee before him

While I don’t think of Giorno as Jonathan’s son (not that he doesn’t have Joestar in him), I do think he goes a long way towards proving something that Araki established all the way back in Phantom Blood and would continue to play around with in the other parts, and Vento Aureo especially with the ways Diavolo contrasts Giorno: That evil, true evil, is not just selfish, petty and self-destructive, but also pointless. Useless Useless Useless, as it were, because Dio could have achieved everything he’d wanted, all of his dreams big and small, had he worked with the Joestars instead of against them. That part of the tragedy of what went down between Jonathan and Dio is that, together, they really did make for an excellent team, that they could have achieved anything and overcome whatever came their way. 

In Phantom Blood, it was ultimately a tragedy that these extraordinary halves representing mankind were set against each other, that fate set these two on collision course forevermore. But with Vento Aureo, we get to see what happens when said halves work in tandem to achieve the extraordinary, and break the chains of fate that define them. You get Giorno, who breaks the chains of those around him, breaks the paradigm by which the series had been adhering to, and  breaks the curse to forge his own future.

#replies tag #character opinion bingo #vento aureo #jjba #jjba part 5 #golden wind #jojo #jojo's bizarre adventure #giorno #giorno giovanna #dio brando #hirohiko araki

[yanderecandystore]

The collector mating with dragon s/o and their eldritch dragon hybrids with their older siblings

Hey boo! I really wanted to make this nsfw, but I wasn't sure of how to go with it, especially considering that A: is a dragon and an horror eldritch aaahole, and B: I have yet to make my first NSFW piece for this blog, and I'm not if this is the right post to do it. So I'll just come up with something lol.

 TW/Tags: Mentions of slight Nsfw stuff, only a bit tho // dragon x a freaking eldritch god that is like twice their size, so there will be confusing and not at all common reproduction // hybrids // uhn… laying eggs and stuff? Like being pregnant and stuff // mentions of slight manipulation and identity theft // also mentions of Ibu boi // also there is the fact that I want to openly talk about how this would work but I also don't want to?? Like, it's weird boo, it's really weird.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

 Pure being of grace [Yandere!Eldritch OC (The Collector) x Dragon!Reader - Headcanons]:

So, where do I even begin my boo???

Look, let's just consider for a moment that A: your heights and basically entire body formation is different and B: Maybe, just maybe, what you consider to be genitals is different from what he considers to be genitals. Just- Yeah, my point is, is that he is way more naive about this whole process than someone like Ibu is.

Which is absurd, I mean- How can a youngling like The Illusionist be so much better at courting lowlife creatures than the Collector is? How does he even begin??

Especially considering that humans aren't the same as dragons, and he has never spent this much time getting to know one at first hand. Like I said, dragons are generally more aware of his… kind.

Even if he transforms himself to look like a dragon, he'll never really be one, so what can he do if not watch you and imitate even the smallest behavior you show him?

Not only has he never played the role of a dragon, he has never played the role of a mate to anyone ever! Expect a really confused dragon boi.

He resembles your mate but only barely, as their personalities are completely opposites. Hopefully he can change the way you see them by exchanging some memories. Just so everything fits perfectly like a board game piece.

As long as you believe him and as long as he can't keep this charade, everything is going to be fine. Which is not an easy task, but I guess he managed to do a pretty good job since there are now little spawns of satan wandering around this realm.

He thought that the most difficult part of this process was already behind him. He managed to court you (although really awkwardly, if he wasn't your "mate" you would have rejected him the moment he even started). I mean, yeah, imagine trying to understand dragon biology in such a crucial time? He almost blew his cover.

The Collector, although using male pronouns, by being an cosmic entity he can essentially change his sex to fit whatever he desires. Normally it doesn't matter which sex each partners have, because his kind never actually reproduce with one another, but to this occasion it felt crucial to.

The need to be one with you, the overbearing jealousy that he feels deep inside whenever he looks at your offspring with some random lowlife dragon. You don't need them, really. He bets that he can fit the role better than anyone else.

Why be with an mere dragon, when you can be with gods? Ya know, just a being powerful enough to take care of you and your young?? Really, you should give him more credit for the lengths he goes to just to make this the best possible life for you.

He even forgot about his other pets, ya know? Geez, I think some of them are dead now…. He has spent so much time with you that he forgot the mortal creatures that were storage into this dimension. Don't you feel lucky to be his favorite one? The only one that he needs.

Honestly darling, can any other creature on this universe pleasure your soul, body and mind at the same time? Yes, it's an extremely weird experience at first, but you don't seem to be complaining, so it's fine!

There is nothing more revigorante than pinning a mighty dragon to the ground, let me tell ya, it does help boost your ego. Especially the growls living through their mouth filled with sharp teeth, and the scratch marks across the cave's floor caused by your futile attempts of holding yourself with your claws.

Oh and the small marks you made in him- Is this how dragons mark each other?? He never thought that he would enjoy it so much. Especially when he looks at the marks he gave you. It's especially beautiful when you laid yourself to take some rest and as you were laying his eggs (and not those from some other fool).

It would probably confuse you to no end how off your children look. Not that you don't love than like equals, but like- How does ¾ kids look so… Different?? They're dragons, but there is something really off about them.

Maybe is the odd scale pattern? Maybe is how undeveloped their fire breathing is compared to their older sibling, maybe they're just too young? Maybe your expecting wait too much from your children, you should probably relax and enjoy this moment while you can, they do grow up pretty fast.

And while you may enjoy this beautiful years of peace and family bonding, your oldest child is probably aware of how wrong this whole family dynamic seem to be. They don't seem to trust their own "father", and their siblings are way too behind compared to him, at their age, he would at least know how to cough some sparkles of fire.

Expect an really grumpy dragon teenager being really sassy because his younger siblings can't breathe fire like he can.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere #sheep stuff #yandere oc #sheep's stuff #yandere x reader #yandere eldritch x dragon reader #yandere eldritch x reader #yandere eldritch #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc headcanons #yandere headcanon #special delivery headcanons #special delivery request #dragon reader

[whetstonefires]

Since you like the Hellboy...*perks up* Can I ask what you like about it? Does this need to be part of the ask game, if so, smash it in there. But opinions! I would love!

Ooh! Hm. This is actually surprisingly hard to articulate.

I’ve been ‘into’ Hellboy for like. Half my damn life now, and while I could have gone on at length about all the things about it I found fun as a teenager it was at its core very much a ‘this makes me Feel Happy’ thing. And now that glow is less intense but it’s bolstered by that habitual sort of attachment you feel to like. Family members.

Let’s see how far I can break this down lol.

I have never been able to much like most of the BPRD tie-in type materials and I was not at all pleased with the films, so to an extent I think I can say confidently part of what I like is the way Hellboy is situated in a superhero-comic-adjacent space while being very much coordinated by one overarching creative sensibility--like, other people were brought in to work on Hellboy a lot over the course of the run, but Mignola always had a unifying voice and even when I don’t actually agree with his taste or values that level of artistic...intentionality? Judgment? Presence? Something like that. Gives the work a sense of...integrity? Maybe just unity.

Anyway makes it feel less plastic than comics often do. This is a corporate product of course but it’s also just Mike Mignola hanging out doing whatever he thinks would be cool. Drawing rocks and monsters because that’s what he wants to draw. I like that.

Some of the higher-quality webcomics you get nowadays, when they don’t take themselves too terribly seriously but aren’t outright comedic, can land similarly in terms of voice, but even just fifteen years ago webcomics weren’t really at that point yet as a medium, and even now most are still amateurish as well as amateur. Which is fine, but different.

To get slightly less meta, I love the collection of genres that are smeared together for Hellboy--we’ve got a lot of detective noir stuff cut together with cosmic horror and like...the genre where people research folklore and then mostly punch it. Does that have a name? And then there are a bunch of other influences stirred in, sometimes for only a single issue, sometimes more.

Mignola managed to be significantly less offensive than average about the way he adapted world folklore into his weird groddy kitchen-sink fantasy system, which is pretty funny because he doesn’t come across as being careful about it at all. Not that I think there was no effort made, but also he just used research as a basis for narrative much more often than he started with a story premise and stretched the creature to fit, which by default gave him less scope for dickery.

Also I think the only god he ever fights is Hecate and she’s handled from a 19th-century-occultist angle rather than a Classical angle.

Also Hellboy fights Nazis and cyborg gorillas as well as like. Baba Yaga and vampires. The balance of schlock and gonzo nonsense to pathos and sensitive emotional bits is usually about where I like it.

The episodic format is really well used. It lets the storytelling style lean heavily on the late-19th-through-mid-20th-century short story genres that it borrows a lot from, and which honestly has always worked better for comics than end-to-end long-arc serialization. I like how the anachronic order of many sections of the series allowed for a lot of ‘building outward from the middle.’

Also it means the story can stay true to its roots and kill off a lot of characters in gothic excess without constantly sloughing main cast or having to do fakeouts.

...I can’t believe that since Hellboy isn’t really emotionally involved with the issue of his birth parents except inasmuch as it explains the world-ending stone hand, the single angstiest part of his backstory is technically when he went on a drinking binge road trip around Mexico in his teens and made friends with vampire-fighting luchador triplets but then the youngest one whom he was closest to was kidnapped by the vampires and Hellboy had to kill his best friend, and this is all established in a random side story that pushes the intentional genre absurdism to its breaking point and is equal parts comedic and grotesque.

(The second angstiest is probably the bit in volume 1 when he finds his dad murdered by frogs.)

I also just love characters who wear trench coats and are actually really clever and knowledgeable and kind but tend to resort, in extremity, to just hitting problems really hard. Okay? I like that. That’s a fave.

Hellboy’s whole character design is very strong, a bunch of dramatic broad-strokes decisions that contrast interestingly against one another, and then a lot of subtler elements layered in crosswise.

The way his relationship to the narrative ‘occult-fighting antichrist figure’ could be really straightforward, but keeps stepping a little sideways off the usual shape of the tropes in a way that creates depth.

He’s a giant red demon guy who stopped aging in the 50s; he’s never going to be able to be ‘normal’ or pretend he isn’t what he is--but also he’s a dude with a government job and probably a Social Security Number who goes and interviews people about the situation and says ‘I’m Agent Hellboy’ and gets called ‘Mr. Boy’ and is just this guy who knows his shit and can take a beating.

(This was one of the major things I hated in the first movie, that they decided to make him this weird secret cryptid whose dad keeps him locked in a vault when he’s not fighting.)

The way the identity thing is never reduced to comfortable binaries with him except by enemies trying to psych him out is just really satisfying. He fights monsters not because he hates them or himself but because he was recruited into this career young and he’s really good at it, and he feels good about helping people who are being victimized.

When something occult isn’t hurting anybody he’s down to chill, and if it turns out they secretly are after all he’s always so tired and disappointed, and if they really aren’t then he has a new friend. Whom he may never see again or may hit up for a game of cards next time he’s in town.

(I also like how he combines ‘being pretty private’ ‘being very casually friendly’ and ‘being an asshole who makes a lot of enemies’; it’s not that unusual a combo for his type of main character but it’s one I enjoy.)

When he breaks off his own horns as part of his rejection of being Anung Un Rama it’s not ‘choosing humanity’ or w/e it’s choosing not to be used for this. His name is Hellboy, which is an objectively awful name but it was given to him by people he loved and who chose him, not the people who made him or brought him to this world to be used, and he chooses it.

And that has weight. That has force enough behind it to carry a world.

Just in general in spite of all the identity stuff he gets swamped with he’s really good at self-knowledge and letting other people’s ideas of who and what he’s supposed to be just wash over him. As the story goes on and shit gets weirder his sense of identity gets shaken, but he never quite loses that anchor in the knowledge that he is the ultimate arbiter of his own identity.

His exasperation on being told via stabbing that he doesn’t get to be King of England even if he is the first male descendant of King Arthur since Mordred is so funny. Why is this a thing, says Hellboy. Why am I finding out like this. Why do I always find out this shit like this. Why would anyone think I wanted to be King of England. I already punched so many skeletons about not wanting to be King of Witches.

He’s got so much righteous anger that comes out when people are treated as disposable, or as less for being not human or less human or superpowered, and of course it’s founded in his own experiences and his own fight for respect but it’s not about him. It’s about the person who’s suffering now.

One time his combat one-liner before shooting something started with ‘The Torch of Liberty said I was the worst shot he ever tried to train’ that’s so funny! I love that!

He’s my boy okay.

#have this rant lol #hellboy #my opinions #fandom recruitment pitch #i have all 12 volumes and a number of very disappointing tie-ins #i almost didn't get them all because i was collecting at a leisurely rate #and then all the bookstores stopped stocking it because it had wrapped up #and guess what??? #volume 11 of 12 ain't easy to find used! #comics #writing #identity #names and naming #beastenraged #ask #hoc est meum

[honourablejester]

Ideas for Sorcerers (D&D)

I do love a bit of innate, chaotic magic, the forces of the world writing themselves onto people. Whether said people wanted them to or not. Heh. I will admit I’m a bit more attached to the ‘touched by cosmic forces’ angle for the sorcerer, it’s really great for backstories, but the bloodlines are also fascinating for the ‘family lore’ and ‘really adventurous ancestors’ ideas. So!

I’m mostly focused on the classic sorcerers and then the horror-adjacent sorcerers, because I’m me, and we know what I like. Apologies to fans of the Divine, Storm or new Clockwork sorcerers!

Draconic

Because dragons (and dragon ancestors) are the best. There’s a lot of fun and aesthetic with choosing your dragon ancestor too. The little scales you get with draconic resilience just make for some really cool-looking characters.

I love the idea of mixing ancestries with a draconic sorcerer. Compare and contrast. For example, a tiefling draconic sorcerer with gold dragon ancestry! Combining a ‘tainted’ bloodline with a respected one. Maybe the clan lean heavily into the lawful reputation of gold dragons, as well as a sort of internalised racism against their own darker ancestry as well. They view the fact that they were once favoured by a divine dragon as proof that their bloodline can redeem themselves of their demonic pact/ancestry, and they lean towards lawful occupations, city watch, soldiers, clergy, etc. So your sorcerer has a bit of internal conflict going on. (Also, a red tiefling with gold scales is an awesome look – tiefling skin colours with dragon scale colours is a really fun combination)

Other cool-sounding ancestry combinations: high elf & white/silver ancestry, for that ethereal immortal feeling (also fun to add stereotypical dragon traits with the white dragons, in that you’re an ethereal immortal who really holds a grudge and does not do ‘forgive and forget’), half-elf & green ancestry, for a strongly outcast, political bent, halfling/gnome & copper ancestry, because if you’re going to go for a tiny trickster you might as well go all out …

Or we have my old favourite, a tortle sorcerer with (somehow) a dragon turtle ancestor, because great-grandpa Uhok never met an older and (significantly) larger lady he didn’t want to pursue, and great-grandma Korthalok was honestly rather flattered. (Yes, I am aware that dragon turtles are not high dragons, but they are intelligent, and they’re probably innately magical/elemental enough to put a bit of magic in the bloodline)

Shadow Magic

The sorcerer’s gothic option! I do love it. Your magic comes from a strange, grim shadow realm, either because you were touched by said realm, or one of your ancestors was an entity from said realm. You get a demonic shadow hound, teleportation from shadow to shadow, and later an actual shadow form. Lots to work with there.

I feel like there’s a lot of Lovecraftian, Dreamlands, William Hope Hodgson sort of feeling here. The dark touch of a strange realm. Emphasis on isolation, desolation, alienation. Loneliness. This is also the subclass where I really, really like a later-life coming into your powers, a traumatic event causing a normal person to suddenly develop horrifying magic.

So. Any of your gothic/cosmic horror backstories. You were kidnapped and subjected to a horrific ritual. You were created in a horrific ritual (hi Warforged!). You suffered a severe, inexplicable illness as a child, and remained pale, half-dead, and possessed of strange powers for the rest of your life (I love the shadow sorcerer quirks list). An insane ancestor entered the Negative Plane and your line was almost annihilated by the resulting Nightwalker, but you somehow survived. Your parent was an extremely powerful magic user studying the Shadowfell, and you only realised much later on in your life that your childhood ‘imaginary friends’ were actually Sorrowsworn (Lost and Lonely?) that haunted your ancestral home and that your parent was somehow keeping from killing you. You tried to steal from a powerful, vindictive wizard, who flung you into the Shadowfell for your temerity, and you don’t fully remember how you survived. You slept in a barrow as a dare when you were younger, and an allip whispered secrets to you that lead you to dream of a dark realm, dreams that seemed to gradually change you as you ‘recovered’ …

This entire subclass is just very much ‘go nuts on the horror tropes and have fun’. I love it dearly.

Aberrant Mind

A new one from Tasha’s, but the other Lovecraftian/horror themed sorcerer subclass now. Which is perfectly fine, because I can always roll with more Lovecraftian horror! If shadow magic was themed strongly towards undead, Aberrant Mind seems strongly themed towards aberrations. Body horror and psychic powers! Boo yeah!

I do like the suggested origins. Particularly the parasitic twin and the imaginary friend ones. I think there’s a lot of fun to be had with those. Aberrant mind does feel more … on the science fiction end of horror, more than the fantasy? There’s a different flavour compared to shadow magic. We’re talking alien abduction and Carrie-esque childhood trauma here. Particularly when you get to the higher level actual physical transformation elements. Bit of Akira in there, bit of Innsmouth. So.

I’m liking characters who are a bit ‘aberrant’ on their own merits, even before their powers kick in as well. The outcasts from the get-go. The albino half-orc abandoned by the tribe as a child and befriended/kept safe by their possibly-imaginary flumph friend. The fallen aasimar whose blessings allowed them to survive where their stillborn twin did not, but who still feels the touch of a ghostly hand in theirs (I’m not sure how well it fully gels, but I feel like an Atropal is a very interesting concept to lay alongside this – stillborn gods and blessed, aberrant champions – celestial guides and the whisperings of parasitic twins … not sure how well it fits, but there’s a lot of crunchy concepts there)

Also, there’s your chance to have some fun with the Underdark races. Duergar, Deep Gnomes and Drow. Or sea races, when we have fun with Aboleths. Or non-sea races who still had a bit of fun with Aboleths, if we want to fully embrace the Innsmouth vibes and have normal land-based elves/humans/halflings who come over all Deep-One in the end. You come from a quaint little village on the coast, where the coming-of-age ceremony involved something of an opening of the mind. Nothing to worry about, everyone does it where you come from. Yes indeed! Heh.

And then, to bring us back to the less-horrifying end of sorcerers, and to revisit my childhood in a big way, we have:

Wild Magic

Schmendrick the Magician! Sorry, I grew up on The Last Unicorn, you’ll have to forgive me this. (Is Schmendrick actually part of the inspiration here, I’m wondering?)

But honestly, wild magic really lends itself to down-on-their-luck characters, running ahead of their own chaos, or striving to learn to control their powers. Or, on the flipside, incredibly laissez-faire types who decided to just roll with and eventually enjoy or perpetuate a little chaos. So. Tricksters, shysters and earnest young things trying to do their best.

So. You could do a straight Schmendrick. A down-on-their-luck kid who really, really wants to be a real wizard, a great magician, but their magic just will not cooperate. It has a mind of its own, and their struggle is learning to either minimise or lean into the chaos and power of it. (I like a background as a tailor/seamstress for this, partly because of animated Schmendrick’s memorable patchwork robes, but also as a little practical detail in that, if you can’t trust your magical mending not to do a ‘Sorcerer’s Apprentice’ on it every damn time, you probably would learn to darn your socks the old fashioned way)

For a variation, you could do a bit of a snake-oil salesperson sort of deal. A down-on-their-luck sorcerer turned shyster/criminal to make ends meet. Wild magic works very well as a sort of bloodline curse, bad luck and chaos following a family. A woman of the Witchbottle clan pissed off an archfey way back when, and so every girl born to the line since has struggled with wild magic. So the clan tends to move around a lot, both individually and as a whole, and individual members of it tend to work around their inevitable getting run out of town for magical mishaps in their own ways. The clan has a lot of travelling entertainers, salespeople, criminals, etc, and tend to be very loyal to each other, even if they don’t see each other all that often (concentrations of wild magic in a single area tend to be bad for said area, so family gatherings are discouraged near civilisation).

And then there are your straight trickster characters. Ones with a more philosophical approach to chaos, a belief that you should be able to deal with the unexpected, and that maybe other people should be helped along in experiencing and dealing with it too. I like bards for tricksters, but wild magic sorcerers work very well too. Heh.

I know Wild Magic might not be the most functional of the subclasses, but it’s got a direct line to my childhood, and I feel like it’s still a really fun idea.

In summary? I like the squishy spindly magic people. They’re fun.

#d&d #dnd #sorcerers #character concepts #long post #fantasy #dark fantasy #horror #lovecraftian #i do love d&d's more horror-leaning elements

[1000scrubs]

Round 2: Titus Mede II

Writer Titus Mede II ‘s entry for August 2021

ANTONIO ALBUS AURELIUS XVII sat in a chair bearing his name. He was waiting in a dark, seemingly infinite room, remembering neither why he was there nor how he got there. He concentrated hard, trying to think back to remember anything that could help him figure out what the Hell was going on. He could vaguely remember… robes? A stick? No, think harder… a beard? Nothing useful came to Antonio’s poor, empty head. Indeed, it was as empty as this void he was sitting in. But then—

“Bad morning to you,” said the dark-clad man, who had just entered the room from a doorway that had not existed a second earlier. The man was rather large, and after closing the door and turning around, Antonio got a proper look at him. He had a large mustache and an extremely fancy three-piece suit, though the fabric seemed impossibly dark. He had a large hat atop his head, and underneath the brim were his unsettling silver eyes. The look of him gave Antonio a feeling of visceral fear, though he could not tell why.

“Oi, you this pompous Aurelius sounding fella?” asked the man, who spoke in a thick Cockney accent.

“Yes, I am Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII. Where am I?” asked Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII.

“Well, ‘Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII’ — mind if I call you Tony? Nah, of course you don’t — you have been lucky enough to arrive here, in Hell, where you shall spend the rest of eternity being tortured in my district of New Los Angeles! Oh, but I suppose you won’t understand that reference.”

“What in G— in G— what? What in Go—“

“Oh, you can’t say that name here. Don’t even try. It’s a bit petty, if you ask me, but it’s not up to me! Anyway, my name is Tommy. I’m here to answer any questions you have before you are sent into New Los Angeles.”

Though Tommy’s blasé nature made him feel somewhat less uncomfortable, Antonio was rather confused. He had no idea what this “New Los Angeles” is, or how he had ended up in Hell. “Well,” he started, “for starters, I can’t remember a thing about my life on Earth. What exactly did I end up doing to get down here?”

Tommy chuckled. “Oh, where do I start? First of all, practicing the Arcane Arts is an instant no-no to the Big Man Upstairs. Massacring an entire village probably didn’t help either. But what threw you over the edge was definitely the time you—“

“No, no, this has to be some sort of mistake. I didn’t do any of this stuff, I’m a good man! There has to be some sort of trial, or appeal, or something! This isn’t fair!”

“Fair? Tony, you’re in Hell, there is no more ‘fair’. Except Jimmy’s ‘Fun Fair of Fantastical Flying Feet’, were you are mercilessly pelted by— you know, I should stop getting so sidetracked, I’ve got 12,000 other people to orient after you before my shift is over. No, Tony, there’s no appeal, there’s no trial, and I think I’ve answered all of your questions. So peace out, and make sure you follow my TikTok when you get to the Social Media Torture Tower!”

Antonio started to object. “Wait, you haven’t answered my—“ but before he could finish, Tommy was gone, instantly returning through the doorway that had been there a second ago. He was now immensely confused, perhaps even more so than before. However, before Antonio had any time to think about what just happened, or why the demon was so well dressed, he was suddenly sucked through space to another location in the most painful way imaginable.

“Ianuae Magicae!” he shouted instinctively. The pain and the sensation of movement stopped; he had broken through whatever ethereal force had been moving him, and was in what appeared to be an infinitely large library. Antonio scoffed. “Another damned infinitely large room? And full of books? What, is this some kind of nerd kingdom? I’ve just gotta find a way out of here.”

“The exit’s over there,” someone said behind him. Antonio turned around quickly, and was greeted by the sight of a normal librarian, albeit looking extremely tired.

Antonio narrowed his eyes, not knowing what to expect. “Excuse me?”

“You want to leave the library, right? So instead of wandering around and making a racket, there’s the exit. Now get out and let me get back to re-reading the end of the Eragon trilogy, it’s the least terrible thing in this library.”

Antonio didn’t want to be in the vicinity of anyone who would even think of reading something like that recreationally, so he took her advice and left through the doorway she pointed out. He then found himself in an infinite-looking corridor, which looked like something right out of a 1980s office building. Antonio started walking aimlessly, but what seemed like hours later, he was still going down the same corridor with no end in sight. Fed up with his predicament, he opened the nearest door and went in. It turned out to be an elevator, so he clicked on the top level and waited.

When Antonio’s eyes finally opened, he could not quite understand what he was looking at. It seemed he had fallen asleep during the impossibly long elevator trip, but having arrived at the top, he was now seeing a gigantic, gothic-styled room that was entirely colored in black with red accents. The wall to his right was one giant, uninterrupted window, with a red hue shining from the outside. In front of the middle of the window was an ominous looking throne and a desk, with a villainous chandelier hanging above. Running out of adjectives to describe this room, Antonio noted the oppressive and boiling hot atmosphere inside the room before stepping inside. He sat down at the throne and started going through the desk, finding many files that seemed to detail the various operations of Hell. Antonio finally realized… he was sitting in the Devil’s chair.

“That’s kinda neat-o,” he thought to himself. As anyone would, he immediately went to look for his file. “Hmm, ‘Antony A. Augustine’, ‘Anthony A. Andreas’… ah, here we go, ‘Antonio A. Aurelius'! Oh, of course there are 17 of them… there it is: ‘Antonio A. Aurelius XVII’”

Antonio opened his file and was shocked to see the photograph inside. He saw a picture of a rather horrific looking man, with a gaunt and sickly looking face, terrible hair, and unsettling eyes. Shrugging this disturbing revelation aside, he looked back into the file and started reading it. “Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII, born in 13th century Tuscany? Exemplary record… lived a nearly flawless early life? If only he hadn’t chosen to become a necromancer!?”

This deeply shook Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII. Though it turned out Tommy had been exaggerating, as Antonio had apparently lived a good life outside of necromancy. Nobody had liked him of course, being a heretic necromancer who looked like some kind of cheap horror movie character, but Antonio had still provided valuable services when people had needed them. “I shouldn’t be here,” he thought. “I should be up in Heaven. I can only imagine how many other mistakes like this have been made…”

Antonio looked around some more and found a computer in Satan’s desk. He wouldn’t have thought that they used computers in Hell, but it made more and more sense the more he thought about it. Naturally, Satan’s password was “password”, and Antonio decided he would take advantage of the situation to implement some cosmic justice. He would bring balance to the universe, being a righteous man given the power of God.

After typing in a few commands, Antonio hit the return key like it had owed him money. Satisfied, he got up and turned around to look out of the massive panoramic window. He could see a vast ocean of lava, with a coast that was blackened and rocky, looking inhabitable and yet lit up with the bright lights of many settlements, which were all doubtless places where the residents of Hell were tortured. As he watched, he saw hundreds of bright beams of light flash from the muddy red sky straight down to the ground. He smiled to himself, just as he heard a colossal crash behind him.

“What in the Hell,” bellowed the Devil, “has conspired here?” The Devil walked into the room, the ruined remains of the main door behind him. His voice sounded of pure power, with an impossibly booming level of bass that Antonio could feel in his bones. He was the size of 3 men, with a large forked tail and two large horns protruding out of his forehead, which was maroon, matching the rest of his body.  “I’m taking my first vacation in millennia, enjoying my time in San Diego, when I’m informed that some unauthorized low-life scum is in my personal office? And not just any unauthorized low-life scum, a resident?”

The Devil looked Antonio up and down, his glowing red eyes seeming to see straight into every cell in Antonio’s body. His sharp teeth became visible through his grin, then he started laughing. “Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII? You’ve just made your stay here in Hell… so much worse.”

With a motion of Satan’s hands, Antonio was restrained by some glowing red binds. Before Satan could continue, an extremely fit man dressed in white robes blasted straight through the panoramic window with contempt. He had short black hair with piercing, almost luminescent blue eyes. His clean-shaven jaw looked sharp enough to use as a weapon, and everything about him made Antonio feel inferior in every way. Even looking at the man for too long started to make his eyes hurt. Effortlessly hovering in the air, now with no discernible expression of emotion, he went over to Satan and looked him straight in the eyes. Satan, on the other hand, was seemingly unable to hold his gaze, and looked away.

“The Lord would like to express His dissatisfaction with you, Lucifer,” he said matter-of-factly in an extremely posh-sounding British accent, his voice sounding impossibly clear and extremely commanding. “There is a holy pact that has gone back to the founding of the universe. I know your kind doesn’t take kindly to any amount of reason or honor, but even I didn’t expect you to do something like this.”

Before the intimidating-looking man from Heaven could continue, Satan interjected. “I have done nothing of the sort, knave! This is the work of this dark magician, Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII.”

The man from Heaven turned around and sighed heavily. “Please, you expect me to believe that? You lot really are pathetic.”

Satan growled with irritation. He turned to Antonio. “What did you do?” he asked in a low, hushed voice.

Antonio smiled to himself and puffed up his chest, entirely overconfident and forgetting his place. “I have done what you are either too evil or too unintelligent to do,” he said, looking at both Satan and the well-dressed man from Heaven, the latter of whom immediately raised his eyebrow. “I have sent the best half of all people in Hell to Heaven. These people did not deserve to be here. They made mistakes in life, yes, but were ultimately good people.

The immaculately dressed man from Heaven scoffed. He turned to Lucifer and said, “Do you take the Lord and all of us in Heaven for fools, expecting us to believe this utter shamble? Could you have not picked a more convincing low-life to take the fall for you?”

“I know nothing of the situation!” Satan shouted angrily. He started storming over to the computer. Antonio stood by, unflinching, in total confidence that he had done the right thing.

“I mean, seriously,” continued the really very fancy looking man from Heaven. “If you’re going to come up with some pathetic excuse, don’t pick one we will so obviously know isn’t true. There has been no such influx of your heathenry to Heaven. Spending so much time down here really does reduce God’s creations to absolute worthlessness.”

Antonio was confused upon hearing this. How did none of the people he freed show up in Heaven? And why is the man from Heaven so rude? All of a sudden, he heard a bellowing roar from Satan, who promptly punched him with cosmic force. Antonio flew across the room, before hitting a television mounted on the wall. The force of the impact completely destroyed the TV, and Antonio was now lying on the ground reeling in pain.

“Do you realize what you have done!?” Satan was furious. “You will burn in the deepest circle of Hell for all eternity—I will torture you myself!”

The impeccably dressed man from Heaven scoffed again. “Are you seriously pretending to not know what happened? A man of God such as myself will not be so easily fooled by your pathetic tricks, Lucifer.”

“Don’t call me that! And you—” he turned to Antonio, who was now entirely aware that he was little more than an ant compared to everyone else in the room, then continued. “All you have done is send the WORST half of all people in Hell back to EARTH!”

The man with a perfect sense of fashion from Heaven interjected before the Devil could continue. “Finally, you admit to your wrongdoings, you traitorous wretch! I trust you realize that this surely means war, I was sent here to find out why this has happened and I have found no compelling reason whatsoever!”

The Devil sat still for a moment. “I suppose there is nothing else to be done in this situation.” He picked up a mobile phone and started typing an angry Tweet announcing his intentions. After he finished, he moved over to his desk, where he drafted and signed a document that was naturally written using someone’s blood. Probably someone who hated pens, documents, or both. He then got up and handed it to the hovering man from Heaven.

“A declaration of war? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, coming from such animals as you. I shall take this up to the Lord Himself, who shall surely destroy you once and for all. See you never,” he said, before flying straight out of the window and disappearing into the sky, sending a sonic boom echoing throughout Hell. Satan then turned to face Antonio, who was nowhere in sight.

Antonio, still in disbelief that he had manage to slip away undetected, was running as fast as he could to try and get as much distance between himself and the Devil as possible. Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t looking where he was going, and ran straight into a guardrail with enough speed to flip straight over it, helplessly falling straight into some sort of magic portal that was stationed several miles below.

#

Antonio awoke again, though this time instead of being presented with the depressing sight of Satan’s office, he could feel a pleasant breeze on his face and grass beneath him. Sitting up, he looked around to see grassy rolling hills with a city in the distance. The view was short-lived, though, as soon a large aircraft dropped a gigantic bomb, destroying the entire city in one blast. Not ten seconds later, a missile shot up from the top of a faraway hill, striking the plane and destroying its wing. The plane faltered, then fell out of the sky, crashing down into a field with all of its explosives onboard, causing an even more massive explosion that wiped out a nearby town. Antonio heard gunfire behind him, and turned around to see two armies fighting each other. The two armies ran at each other and Antonio could only imagine the ridiculous amount of bloodshed going on.

Suddenly, amidst the fighting of the two armies, a giant red portal opened up out of the Earth. Soldiers started falling in, only to come flying back out impaled on the horns of giant red demons that had erupted out of the portal. The demons landed on the ground and promptly started tearing both armies to pieces. Before Antonio could even comprehend what was happening, another giant white portal appeared in the sky. Hundreds of people who looked similar to the man from Heaven he saw earlier flew out like Supermen, some riding on giant chanting chariots, all of them without any weapons at all. The demons, seeing this, roared with ferocity and left into the sky to fight them, with the humans, now fighting side by side on the ground, shooting at their backs. The angels and demons met some thousand feet off the ground, combining cosmic blows that destroyed everything on the ground for miles. It seemed as though each angel could easily destroy a hundred demons at a time, but more and more demons kept appearing. More and more fighting was happening, clearing away anything and everything else in the sky, and knocking Antonio hundreds of feet along the ground even though he was far, far away from the fight.

Stunned, Antonio sat up again, ears ringing and completely covered in dust and debris from the blasts in the distance. Through his blurred vision he looked around him. The countryside was destroyed, and the cosmic forces were nowhere to be seen, surely having moved the fight elsewhere. Antonio tried to stand, but his body was too sore from being thrown about. He blacked out.

#

Antonio awoke once more, and now was greeted with the sight of a hospital. The inside of a hospital, that is. In fact, now that he’s waking up properly, Antonio noticed that this hospital was completely overcrowded. The nurse came over and looked him up and down. “I’m not sure why you’re still here, but get up and get out. Go down the hall and to the left.”

He wasn’t particularly surprised by her rudeness, given the circumstances, so he got up and went down the hall she mentioned. Even in the hall, there were bandaged people strewn all about the ground. “This is truly apocalyptic,” Antonio thought to himself, trying not to think about how he had caused it all. Upon reaching the end of the hall, he decided that he was a maverick, and went right instead of left. After a short walk, he found himself in what appeared to be a recruitment center.

“Another recruit— oh, God, you’re an ugly one aren’t you?” noted a man with an extremely well-featured face was sitting at a desk. “Never mind that, all able-bodied discharges go through there,” he said, pointing to a door just past his desk. Antonio, deciding that being a maverick hadn’t been very beneficial for him, elected to do as the man said. In a blur, he was given armor and a strange weapon, and loaded into a large metal carriage that seemed to drive itself with a bunch of other men, many of whom were covered in bandages. Antonio judged he was somewhere in the American Midwest, though the world had devolved into complete chaos as millions of the worst people who ever lived had been brought back to life.

From talking with the other soldiers, Antonio had learned that several major nations had been taken over by some of these people, who had immediately started violent wars in as many parts of the world as they could manage. Most large cities had already been destroyed by bombs they called “nuclear”, and now that the demons and angels were fighting each other, even more of the world had been completely destroyed. One soldier even said that Mount Everest had been completely leveled. Antonio was completely wracked with guilt, knowing he had caused all of this.

Suddenly the transport stopped, and the commander shouted to Antonio and his fellow soldiers to get out. Antonio got out and ran, before looking back and seeing a demon flying straight into his transport. An angel flew up and emitted a pure white beam of light from his bare hand, which shot straight into the demon and obliterated him.

“Children of God,” he started, turning to the soldiers. “Fear not, for the Lord shall protect you. Retreat to safety, and let us handle this threat.” He then rose into the air, and flew impossibly fast into the distance, causing a massive sonic boom that startled all the soldiers.

“What are we supposed to do now?” Antonio asked his commander.

The commander sat and thought for some time. “Listen,” he began. “We are completely outgunned in this fight. I think the flying man is right, we have no hope of defeating the enemy with what we have. There’s an old nuclear bunker 20 klicks that way.” He pointed to his left side, then continued, “Carry your weapons with you, let’s march.”

About 10 miles in, the march was disrupted. Right in front of the group, a demon came crashing down after being thrown what looked like hundreds of miles. Still disoriented, he opened his eyes and tried to look around.

“Fire! Fire! Give it everything you’ve got!” bellowed the commander. Every soldier opened fire, pumping hundreds of rounds into the demon. After what felt like 5 minutes of straight shooting, they let up. The demon looked as though he had merely been shot with a super soaker, and just looked at them. Seeing the terror on their faces, he smiled, and stood up, but then stopped after hearing a loud boom behind him. He turned around and couldn’t see anything, but suddenly an angel flew down out of the sky and kicked his head clean off. The angel turned to face the soldiers, and despite all of the brutal fighting, there wasn’t a single speck of dirt anywhere on her. Her long, flowing golden hair didn’t even look the slightest bit disturbed.

“You should all get to safety,” she said in what sounded like a Greek accent. “We are pushing the enemy back, but it’s still not safe to be out here. We will let you know when the demons have all been taken care of, and remember that you are all under the Lord’s eternal protection.” She then flew far up into the sky, until Antonio couldn’t see her anymore.

“Let’s keep marching,” said the commander. “The sooner we get to that bunker, the better.” They resumed the march, and only saw fighting happening in the distance for the rest of the trip. Upon arriving at the bunker, they turned on the radios and waited for their all-clear signal. And they waited. And waited some more. Until Antonio couldn’t bear waiting, and faded into darkness.

#

Antonio opened his eyes, as he had done many times after being stuck in that bunker. They waited 2 years for the all-clear signal, emerging from the bunker to see practically nothing left on the surface. The angels remained on Earth for some time to regenerate the natural resources that had been destroyed, then most left. The few who stayed provided support for some time, but then they left as well. Antonio traveled around for several years afterwards, trying to find somewhere proper to stay, but the world had largely been thrown back into the pre-industrial era. Nevertheless he persisted, traveling across the North American continent to help whom he could. Instead of necromancy, he learned healing magic to try and aid the people he came across along the way.

One day, Antonio found an old map of the United States. He instantly recognized most of the regions he had visited, but one area stuck out to him as strange. “Wyoming?” He’d never heard of this place, nor had he ever been there. He decided that this is where he would visit next, and after a few months of being on the road, he finally arrived and was shocked to see that it seemed entirely untouched.

After traveling into the city outskirts, Antonio looked around. Many people walked about freely with not a care in the world, all of them looking pristine in luxurious looking clothing. They reminded Antonio of the angels he had seen, though that must’ve just been how people looked right before the apocalypse. There were so many cars on the road that they actually had to stop and line up in turns to wait for each other, and all were driven by regular people rather than military personnel. Antonio looked back at the sidewalk and saw a man walking towards him. He held a small black slab in his hand that shone on his face, and was wearing very high quality clothing. Antonio walked up to him and grabbed his shoulder .

“What happened here?” Antonio asked, stunned at what he had just seen.

“Hey, what the hell? Watch yourself buddy, or I’ll call the police! Now I don’t know if you want any money or anything, but why don’t you go beg somewhere else instead of bothering me, ok?” He turned around and started walking away. Antonio grabbed his shoulder again, this time not letting go.

“What happened here? This place looks like it wasn’t destroyed in the war, that’s impossible!”

“War? What are you talking about? Are you pretending to be a time traveler or something? Or are you one of those people who like to play dress-up? And God, you reek, get away from me!”

Antonio grabbed him with both hands. “The war, the angels and the demons, it was years ago! Back in 2021!”

“Look, dude, I’m calling the cops. There was no ‘war’ in 2021, all that happened was the electrical grid crash and all the movies got canceled.” He started fiddling with his device, but then got frustrated and gave up. “And the damn cell service went to shit. But I’m pretty sure we would’ve noticed if there was a war.”

Antonio was in disbelief. “The rest of your country is destroyed! The entire world is destroyed! This state of ‘Wyoming’ is the only place left, and you don’t even know what happened?”
 The man from Wyoming shrugged. “To be honest… we don’t really pay attention to the rest of the world. And they don’t pay any attention to us. What you’re saying… it would sort of make sense why all those movies never came out… do you have any photos of it on your phone?”
 Antonio collapsed to the ground. “So what you’re telling me is,” he started, out of breath. “This place was left untouched… because everyone forgot about it?”

“Yeah, probably. I dunno, dude.  I think I should probably call someone to come get you.”  He started looking around, before pulling his glowing slab back out again.

“No, no… I don’t understand… just give me a moment.” Antonio lay down on the ground and covered his face. He could hear the murmurs of other pedestrians watching in confusion. Soon he sat back up and looked around, only to see a seemingly endless sea of faces in front of him. “Wait, no… please…” He turned to look at the man he had been speaking with, but he was no longer there.

The crowd parted, and two mustached men dressed in blue uniforms donning gleaming silver badges came through. Antonio couldn’t comprehend what was happening. They restrained him and put him in the back of a car. Antonio watched the surreal sight of the city pass him by; everything looked exactly as it must have been before the apocalypse. Antonio had not been in a car for many years, and the sensation of moving so fast was starting to make him sick.

Thankfully, the car stopped outside of a large, intimidating building. The uniformed men dragged him in and up to a woman standing by a desk.

“What is your name?” the woman asked him.

“I am Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII. I am from Tuscany of the 13th Century. I died and went to Hell, but accidentally caused the apocalypse when I tried to send half of the people in Hell to Heaven.”

“Oh, really? Here, walk with me, and you can tell me all about it.” Antonio started following the woman down the hallway.

“Yes. I’m a necromancer, you see. Or, I was. But that’s  why I was in Hell. I somehow managed to get into the Devil’s offices, and on his computer I tried to send the best half of people to Heaven. It was a sort of cosmic justice, you know?”

“Oh, for sure,” the woman responded. Antonio could sense that she wasn’t particularly interested in the conversation, but he continued nonetheless.

“Yeah, so it turns out I got it backwards, I suppose. I sent the worst half of people to Earth, instead of the best half to Heaven. So this angel came down and Satan ended up declaring war, I suppose.”

“Angels and demons, eh? I’m all ears,” the woman said, completely uninterested.

“I managed to escape, and then I somehow ended up back on Earth. This was way back in 2021, of course, before the apocalypse. Which happened immediately after I returned. There were already nuclear wars and whatnot, but the war of the angels and demons really devastated the world, you know?”

The woman nodded. “Of course, we all saw it, right?”

“Yeah, finally, someone who knows what happened! So I ended up in a bunker during the war, for several years while the angels finished off the demons. Then I traveled around the country, I learned proper healing magic so that I could help people. Then I heard of this place, ‘Wyoming’, and came over here to check it out. You guys seem to be the only part of the world that was left untouched. It seems as though everybody forgot you existed.”

“Yes, we are used to that; that was a fascinating story, but we’ve arrived at your room. You can stay here as long as you like, you’ll be perfectly safe and taken care of.”

Antonio was startled, but very excited at this news. “Oh, thank you so much!” He eagerly rushed into the room, which was largely empty. “Hey, wait, this room doesn’t even have a—” He was cut off by the door closing and locking. The room was padded, and there was nothing but a light in the roof and a bed in the corner. Antonio knocked on the doors for hours, trying to get someone to talk to him, but nobody answered. Eventually, some food slipped through a hatch in the wall, and some time after that he was restrained and escorted to a restroom. He tried to talk to the guards, but they didn’t respond, and he was locked back in the room.

Eventually, Antonio lost track of the days, the months, then the years. One day, he fell asleep on his bed as he had done thousands of times before, but when he woke, he sat in a familiar black void. An invisible door opened, and he saw a familiar face come through.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII.” He laughed fiendishly. “We’ve been waiting for you down here. Let’s see…” He pulled out Antonio’s file, then continued, “Necromancy. Nasty business, that. But let’s just skip this part and get to the real juicy bit.” He licked his finger, then flipped the page. “Insurrection against the natural order. Impersonating the Devil. Unauthorized actions compromising the realm of Hell. Actions causing the release of people from Hell. Returning to Earth without permission. Actions directly causing the death of millions on Earth. And perhaps the worst of all: directly causing the Intergalactic Wyoming Empire to become the dominant human civilization—for the foreseeable future, at least. Seriously?” He leaned in closely, then continued, “they would never have known if you never went there!”

He slammed the file shut with a satisfied grin on his face. “There’s a special place down here for you. I don’t think any human has ever been there, so congratulations on becoming the first! You should take it as a compliment, really,” Tommy said, leaning back in his chair. He began fiddling with his mustache. “And I suppose I can use it as bragging rights. ‘Tommy, the torturer who was once assigned to the infamous Tony Aurelius!’ I like the sound of that!” He laughed again. “Oi, mind if I take a quick video of the two of us for my socials? I could use this cred’. And you’ll probably look disfigured forevermore once the Boss starts his work on you, so I should get in early y’know?”

Antonio, having not listened to Tommy for some time, did not respond, but only hung his head in shame. He didn’t know what was in store for him, but he did feel that he deserved it. He had officially become the worst person to have ever lived.

——-

Who: A necromancer with a heart of gold What: Causes the apocalypse When: The year 2021 Where: In Hell Why: To bring balance to the universe

#5w story #short story #writeblr #writing #titus mede ii #august 2021 #fiction #short fiction #apocalypse #death

[sineala]

Captain America Corps

[This is a repost from my Patreon.] An extra review for everyone this month! I wasn't actually planning to write a review of Captain America Corps, but, then, I wasn't planning to love it as much as I did, either. Surprise! This has been the Book Club selection on the 616 Steve/Tony Discord server for the entirety of September, and it took me all month to get around to reading it, and when I finished reading it on Marvel Unlimited I immediately ran to the internet and ordered myself a copy of the trade paperback, because I needed one of my very own to cuddle. This review contains spoilers for the entirety of the series, so leave now if you don't want to know them. (It also contains a few pictures of elements that you may wish to avoid if you are sensitive to body horror in fiction.)

Captain America Corps is a five-issue miniseries written by Roger Stern, whom you may remember from such classics as his Avengers run featuring the Under Siege arc and his short but extremely memorable Cap run with John Byrne. The art here is by Phillipe Briones, who I don't think I've seen in any other book, but it's nice enough, I suppose. Anyway, it was published in 2011 and is also set then (well, sort of) -- so Bucky is still Captain America (though not for much longer) and Steve is Commander Rogers. (It is still available in trade paperback but it is technically out of print, so you should act now if you want a paper copy.) The best way I can describe my feelings about this book is thus: you know how David Michelinie's 1979 Avengers novel I read and reviewed a few months ago, The Man Who Stole Tomorrow, had an amazing premise -- Kang the Conqueror freezes Steve again and takes him to the future and the Avengers have to go time-traveling to get him back -- but it completely flubbed the actual execution of said premise? Well, Captain America Corps is a lot like that, but it absolutely, perfectly nails it. The premise isn't exactly the same, but it is definitely Peak Comics in the best zany madcap way, and the more you know about canon, the more your familiarity will be rewarded. Captain America is being kidnapped. But not just one Captain America -- Captains America across the multiverse are being stolen, and history is changing around their disappearances. A cosmic entity by the name of Tath Ki has made it his business to right these wrongs, and so to do this he kidnaps some more Captains America of his own. He ends up with a team of five: the Captain America of 1941 (Steve Rogers), USAgent (John Walker, from a small but unspecified number of years prior to 2011), the Captain America of 2011 (Bucky Barnes), American Dream (Shannon Carter, from the MC2 universe), and Commander A (Kiyoshi Morales, from several centuries in the future). So you can see already that this is going to be fun. All the Caps, in my opinion, are very well-characterized -- Steve is painfully earnest and a little inexperienced; Bucky is cynical, jaded, and he kind of can't believe that 40s Steve is looking up to him, which is really sweet; and John Walker is, of course, a complete asshole. I wanted to punch him in his stupid face multiple times, so clearly his characterization is perfect. I can't speak to Shannon's characterization because I've never read MC2, and Kiyoshi is new as of this book, but he is also excellent. So, obviously, because this is a Captain America book, there is a terrible dystopian future for them to fight -- and to show them what's at stake, Tath Ki drops them right in the middle of Dystopian Times Square, and they all get rounded up and imprisoned, whereupon they promptly stage a prison break for the various superheroes (Sam Wilson, Luke Cage, Peter Parker...) that they meet, before Tath Ki brings them back to his home base talk about it, now that he's convinced them that this is a future they have to stop.

(The law enforcement of the dystopian future includes several Americops and the Ameridroid. Remember those guys from the Cap comics? I sure do! Whee!) Tath Ki explains the situation here on this Earth, because obviously there has been some divergence. And the divergence point is this: the Avengers never found Captain America in the ice in Avengers #4. Two new women -- Broad-Stripe and Bright Star (why, yes, those are deeply unsubtle code names) -- ended up on the team instead, but, well... the Avengers just didn't work without Steve, and right when they ought to have founded the Kooky Quartet in Avengers #16, they disbanded instead. All because they'd never met Captain America. Thor went back to Asgard. Hank ended up in a psych ward. Tony died during heart surgery. (Don't worry, I'm coming back to this point later. So is the comic.) So the Caps split up to go see what they can find out about the remaining Avengers. Jan is hanging out with Sue Storm but has been warned about Kiyoshi and Shannon by the villain, and she kicks them out. Steve and Bucky break Hank out of the psych ward. And Tath Ki takes John Walker to Tony's tomb... to find that Tony's brain is missing from his body. Uh-oh. That's never a good sign.

And, oh, yes, Broad-Stripe and Bright Star are the villains of this series. And, what's more, Broad-Stripe is actually Superia, whom you will remember from the infamously terrible Cap arc The Superia Stratagem. It was really bad. It was really, really bad. But reading this has now retroactively made reading that worth it. Anyway, they're the ones who have been kidnapping all the Caps, and the Cap Corps here teams up with the local resistance force (yes, of course there's a resistance) to fight their way to the villains' headquarters. And do you know who else is at the villains' headquarters? It's Tony! I mean, it's Tony's brain. In a jar. Alive. And conscious. (And his eyeballs. I don't know why or how he still has his eyes. I'm trying not to think about that.)

The fact that Tony is now a brain in a jar is what the #book-club channel has been shrieking about with horrified glee for an entire month. If you like sad Tonys, there is no sadder Tony than this. You cannot make a sadder Tony than this. He is a brain in a jar. It's like everything about his favorite transhumanism, gone wrong. He's been there for years. He has never known Steve Rogers, and doesn't that just break your heart? He's suicidal. He begs the villain to finally kill him. He begs Hank to kill him, whether or not the good guys win. His life -- or undeath, or whatever it is -- is so awful that death is, for him, the happy ending. (We already know, canonically, that Tonys who never meet Steve are the saddest Tonys. Fantastic Four: Dark Reign #2, the issue that famously gave us Earth-3490, also gave us a look at Earth-1735, in which Steve is found very late in the superheroing game and Tony has clearly spent all the time in which they should have been Avengers together instead drinking his life away.) Sad Brain Jar Tony fills the good guys who find him -- Hank, Bucky, and Kiyoshi -- in on the villains' backstory and plans, which is basically that Superia has been stealing all the Captains America and has joined up with AIM and gotten herself a Cosmic Cube to shove them all into, and I'm sure we all guessed that that was happening because what even is a good Cap plot without a Cosmic Cube? Anyway, 1940s Steve doesn't meet Tony personally, as far as I can tell, but he does get to hear about him being alive over the comms, at least -- although it wouldn't mean much to him then, because at this point he doesn't know Tony. So all the Caps and Tath Ki and the villains end up falling into the Cosmic Cube along with the rest of the Caps that Superia stole, who are already in there. Steve merges with one of his other self, which breaks the Cube, and the alternate dystopian reality basically... vanishes from existence as everyone goes home. And Sad Brain Jar Tony is finally at peace. *sniff* Due to the mysteries of time-travel, Bucky and the two Caps after him -- Shannon and Kiyoshi -- remember what happened, but the two from before -- 1941 Steve and John Walker -- don't seem to. Except when Bucky meets up with his Steve, the Commander Rogers of 2011, it's clear that Bucky's return triggered something and Steve is starting to remember everything. Then Bucky decides to go turn himself in and face justice for the Winter Soldier's crimes. We get a brief look at Kiyoshi's time, where he's helping christen a new aircraft carrier named after Steve. And that's it. So obviously this is a completely wild plot in the way that comics are the best at, and what I really want most in life now is fic where 2011 Commander Rogers -- who we know is not the best at having feelings where Tony is concerned, because his current reaction to Tony is to scream at him about his feelings, in the snow, surrounded by all of their friends -- has to deal with the fact that he remembers being in a world where Tony is a sad brain in a jar and it all happened because he wasn't there to save him. Heroic Age-era (early Avengers v4) is one of my favorite flavors of Steve/Tony angst, as they work out how to have a friendship again (and are so bad at it that it involves a lot of very public screaming fights), and this just piles the angst right on top. (Yeah, guess what's on my WIP list now.) Objectively, it's not a perfect comic -- it's kind of a mess, but it's a mess in that glorious comics way that comics are so good at. I suspect if you're not here for the Steve/Tony you won't like it as much, but if you are... well, please enjoy pondering Sad Brain Jar Tony in his dystopian, Steve-less future.

#posts i actually wrote

[cheatdeathsarchive]

META: six post sierra madre.

note: canon divergence. any npcs mentioned are in direct reference to the storyline i use for six when i write her alone, and is not what i anticipate or expect out of the rpers who portray said characters.

upon coming back to the mojave, six is traumatized, which... i mean, obviously. the first thing that six did upon coming back was beeline to the brotherhood bunker, express she had news about father elijah, and used the opportunity to infiltrate the bunker to blow it up. upon returning to the lucky 38, she is a mess.

the sierra madre jumpsuit, a bruised and chafed neck. her hair is matted, uncombed, and dirty, and she’s covered in dried blood and dirt with makeup that was applied and ruined at least a week ago. mr. house did not care about any of this when she went to see him, which was the very second thing she did. six then gives herself about a week to recover, feigning that it’s just because she wants the injuries where the collar had been around her neck to go away, but even as it’s gone she deals with much more beyond.

it takes her a bit of time, but six is able to bury deep all the trauma, heal from it some, and eventually move on best that she can. she finally closes the book on it all when dean domino makes his way to new vegas and starts performing at the tops, and when she happens upon god/dog in jacobstown who is healing and doing better as well not too long after. seeing both of them moving on makes six finally feel like maybe she can, too. both dean and dog/god’s arrival to the mojave occur post dam.

before then, however, six challenges her traumas head on thanks to knowing that it isn’t “normal” and it would definitely alarm the people who know how she tends to behave. things like walking by the king’s school and seeing the speakers outside terrifies her, for example. her usually enjoying the radio but shooting the one in her suite soon as she gets back another. she doesn’t like the way people look at her during those moments of panic.

those things are not normal, and so six spends quite some time coping in private ( that week she grants herself ) before allowing herself to go out and feign normalcy again. it is also is helpful that the war for hoover dam occurred so soon after she didn’t really have time to keep hiding away. she had places to be, things to do. she had to be there, and that distraction helped pull her back out of the sierra madre to the mojave.

i’m trying to not jump around too much. here are the main areas that affected six the most:

killing: while she has killed out of necessity and self defense before, for quite a while after returning six keeps a cosmic knife close to her at all times. she is not strong, has not been strong, nor will ever really be strong, but after killing raiders, fiends, and the ceasar’s legion assassins who tail after her, she methodically and extremely detached from herself mutiliates the bodies with the knife. it’s a reflection of the ghost people who, to her horror, kept on coming back. it was paramount to destroy their heads, and it’s something she does basically on autopilot. it just... needs to be done. it’s a reflex to ensure survival.

addiction: sleeping was unsafe anywhere the toxic cloud was. because of this, six comes back to the mojave dependent on psycho, steady, and other uppers to keep her awake. she is also addicted to sierra madre cocktails. with the help of julie farkas she is able to curb the addictions with a lot of fixer and detoxing, though she denies that sierra madre cocktails have addictive properties and continues to knock those back even after she has curbed her addiction to the others. she hides them everywhere. eventually it comes out that they are addictive, and six dumps the rest and has a very ugly time recovering from her dependency on the rat poison dorito blend.

the radio: six cannot stand the radio for awhile post return. her radio in her room she shoots until it’s a smoking mess. she makes victor take all the radios off the floor that the presidential suite is on until she misses music so much that she recruits help in someone turning on the radio and letting her take a few steps towards it, holding her breath, and seeing that it won’t blow her up. she runs dozen upon dozens of tests, disassembles and reassembles every radio in the lucky 38 she can get her hands on, and to this day the sound of radio static leaves an unpleasant feeling in her heart that takes a few moments to shake after it’s gone and music replaces it.

the collar: six does not like things around her neck, does not like people touching her neck, and does not like having her neck exposed. for a long time after, even once the physical injuries are gone, six has a small habit of holding her neck in her hands and rubbing the skin there, a soothing reminder she does not have a collar on.

her pip-boy: six paid someone to get her as many pip-boy supplies and mick and ralph would sell her. because of how elijah took away so much of her freedom with those collars, and how he spoke out of her pip-boy, a large part of her felt hypervigilant and paranoid about what might have remained in her pip-boy. she also spends a few nights, still high on things to keep her awake and alert, on breaking her entire pip-boy apart, making sure it wasn’t bugged, tampered with, etc. she finally feels comfortable enough to not do this any longer after the third time of doing it and seeing nothing had changed.

veronica, christine, and the others: this is the big one. without thinking six took vera keyes’ dress, the one from her suitcase because she had a feeling veronica would think it was beautiful. despite meeting christine and putting it all together, she didn’t tell christine that she knew about any of it. post elijah’s death, all who had been brought together by elijah met up and sort of... made sure they were all on the same page about things being safe. that the collars were not working. they took inventory, made sure that six promised up and down that elijah was dead, and then all went their own ways quietly.

six gave dean a business card to the tops and the one gold bar she could carry out. she gave dog/god a map to jacobstown. and christine, she gave elijah’s pip-boy, a kiss, and an apology that the brotherhood in the mojave was wiped out -- that ncr did it after they failed to hold poseidon energy and as the ncr was finding their footing in the mojave.

not all of it was a lie -- and the parts that were lies that six could correct she did upon immediately returning.

something else to add but doesn’t deserve it’s own whole category is that it only reinforces her absolute fear of the dark, people sneaking up behind her, and loud booming noises.

#this is my fave dlc #and i love the implications of all of it #how scary it is #real ass survival horror hours #( ooc. ) now loading. #( meta. ) i’m a helpless soul with a hopeless hand. #( hc. ) can’t be bothered by the mistakes she has made. #ask to tag #long post #long post / #addiction / #addiction tw #drug use / #drug use tw

[thesilvereyedwolf]

Hi! It’s me

I’m gonna take a moment to talk about myself for a moment, as I have just learned that you can pin stuff to your blog now. I’ll put it under a read-more so it shouldn’t take up too much of your time/dash if you don’t want it to.

Alright, let’s go with the basics first. My physical form. Slightly chubby white guy, cause that’s new on the internet, right? I say guy because that’s what I am, physically, but I have no real attachment to any gender whatsoever, and I wear what I want to regardless because, ay, cloth and paint and adornment and such have no sex and should not be put into such narrow descriptors as ‘for girls’ and ‘for boys’.

I also live in the United States, Texas specifically. I hate everything about that sentence, but such is life.

Now, mentally, I am bi-polar with a touch of extra depression, so that’s fun. I’m also a Therianthrope, which is kinda messy as to which category it goes to as most people call it a spiritual thing. As it’s never been a matter of spirituality to me, just a fact, I’m gonna leave it here. I also have some ADD issues that I can’t confirm because the lady who talks to me about my bi-polar doesn’t care to talk with me about that. On top of that mess I have some anger issues, and a lot of anxiety issues. I am a mess, and am always trying to improve myself.

As to actual religion, I call myself a Pagan but honestly just believe in a mixture of animism and omnism. I dunno if that has a name, but it’s not the most important to me so I’ll just leave it as is.

Politically, I call myself a liberal, but my main political heading is just; does this practice hurt a person, directly or not? THEN DON’T DO IT. I am a supporter of Black Lives Matter, along with most of the rest of the movements that go along with it (I say most because I don’t know them all). All of that said, I’m not extremely politically aware because, frankly, it makes me more depressed.

I enjoy writing! I actively try to press my boundaries (respectfully I pray) because that’s how people grow. I write fanfic primarily, but I’m attempting a cosmic horror/thriller novel right now and I’m doing well at it.

Uhhhh, I try my best to be nice to everyone, but I will actively ignore/block people being dicks to me/at people I care about.

I have punched a Nazi. It was fun.

I’m poly/pan, and believe pedophiles should fry in a chair.

Fucking, I dunno, I’m losing steam. You gotta question? Want a clarify-er? Hit me up, I’m a chill fucker. Later, love ya (most of ya)

IMPROTENT EDIT 1:As my wife so kindly pointed out, I’m also married! Eyy! And while I am poly, she is not, thus I am 100% monogamous. She is the best person I have ever met, the metaphorical light of my life, and mother to my single son. She follows along with most of the rest of the facets of myself I’ve displayed here, but her mind and her life is her business and not mine to air out.

#Bio #autobiographical #just talk to me please #I'm reasonable I swear #and kind of scared #and usually sad

[thesnadger]

Darkest Dungeon: Maybe The True Eldritch Horrors Were The Friends We Made Along The Way

(aka it’s spooky season so I’m gonna ramble about one of my favorite horror themed games. Contains mild spoilers for the end of Darkest Dungeon, though nothing you couldn’t predict if you’re even passingly familiar with Lovecraftian horror.)

If you haven’t played Darkest Dungeon, here’s the rundown: 

You play the nameless heir to an estate left by an ancestor of yours. This ancestor was an absolute bastard whose reckless and amoral actions unleashed all manner of eldritch horrors on the countryside. It's now your job to act as manager for adventurers-for-hire as they venture out into the countryside, fighting cosmic horrors, finding food and medicine, and getting you the resources you need to slowly repair the damage that your absolute shithead ancestor left behind.

Any review of Darkest Dungeon will talk about how punishing it is. How death is permanent and how physical and mental traumas leave mechanical effects behind. How as a player you will have to make harsh choices that play into the overall dark tone.

These reviews aren’t wrong exactly. The mechanics are harsh and lead to some intense, nail-biting decisions. But what I think they leave out is - Darkest Dungeon isn’t about suffering and dying. 

"Darkest Dungeon is about making the most of a bad situation.”

That line is in quotation marks because it comes from a paragraph of text you see every time you start the game. And it reflects the mindset I’ve seen in a lot of people who enjoy it, myself included.

Not everyone plays a game the same way, and I know some people play Darkest Dungeon with a eye for pure numbers - keep the adventurers that are useful, sacrifice the ones that aren’t, and don’t get attached. It’s a valid way to play it. But for me (and many others) getting attached is part of the experience. And I will absolutely run away from a boss battle if I think I’m going to lose somebody, or pour resources into lowering someone’s stress even if it isn’t strategically wise.

See, Darkest Dungeon’s harsh mechanics do give you the opportunity to be ruthless. To weigh the value of a character’s life against the potential gain of pushing them past their limit. 

But harshness also gives you the opportunity to be kind. To spend your limited money on making sure your party has ample food and torches. To give them a rest when they get tired, knowing you may run out of resources later and have to either turn back or do without. And to call them back to the hamlet when they’re in danger or out of supplies, though that means wasted time, effort and resources on your part. 

(Just to be clear, I’m not moralizing. These characters are ultimately just pixels, so being ‘harsh’ or ‘kind’ to them is not the moral question it is when dealing with real people. This is just about the sort of gaming experience you come away with.)

There’s a little narrative in Darkest Dungeon, but not a lot. You have some sense of the adventurer characters through their flavor text, and you gradually learn more about your ancestor. But most of the story you really have to fill in yourself. 

And looking at fan content, I’ve noticed a whole lot of people choose to make it a story about a ragtag group of misfits doing their best to support each other, fight the odds and enjoy life as much as possible while the world is ending around them.

Admittedly this is tumblr which has a lot of people who are fond of such stories, of found family tropes, etc. But I still think it’s significant that so many people go that route, especially since it would be so easy to lean towards something more grim and dark.

Actually, the more I look at the story of Darkest Dungeon, the more familiar the setting starts to feel.

The final boss is the world-ending horror at the heart of the corruption, one that is extremely difficult to fight and inflicts massive psychological damage on anyone who faces it. It will come as little surprise to those familiar with cosmic horror that even if you win this fight, all you’ve managed to do is put it back to sleep for a while. Someday, likely when you’re not around to stop it, it will come back. Maybe it will be beaten back again by future generations. But it’s quite possible that eventually the apocalyptic scenario you’ve postponed today will just come to pass some other day.

You learn this in the ending cutscene as your smug asshat of an ancestor whispers from beyond the grave. He tells you that your efforts are futile and encourages you to do what he did at the start of it all: to take your own life in response to the horror of everything you’ve learned. 

Sounds like a downer ending, right? 

Except. 

Well, for one thing - you don’t kill yourself. The game remains playable after you reach this end. The heir survives and can continue to fight back the remaining monsters indefinitely. However they feel about everything they’ve experienced, they aren’t giving up.

And honestly, why would they listen to their ancestor? He only ever cared about himself and his own immediate appetites, with no thought to the effect his actions might have on the world. And then, when he realized how bad things were getting he decided to shove the responsibility onto the next generation rather than take any of it on himself. He gave up. But you don’t have to.

I don’t think this is anything that was consciously put in the game, but. . . I do think there’s something about a story where you inherit an environment damaged by past generations, knowing you will never be able to fully repair it, and where you live in fear of an approaching worldwide cataclysm that might resonate with a lot of people today.

That’s right motherfuckers, the true cosmic horror was climate change the entire time. Like I said, I don’t think this was an intended theme. But the feelings most of us have about climate change do create a sort of cosmic horror, don’t they?

Climate change makes us painfully aware of the fragility of a world we might otherwise see as permanent and unchangable. It makes us afraid of things larger than ourselves that might destroy us, not out of malevolence or hatred but because (like Azathoth the blind, idiot god) they are natural forces not capable of considering humanity, nor even capable of conscious thought. Most of all, it fills us with the fear that something terrible is coming that we can see coming but are too small to prevent. What is all of that if not an on-the-nose description of cosmic horror?

What I like about Darkest Dungeon is this: while it does nothing to bring down the scale of cosmic horror - (humanity is still small, individuals are fairly powerless, gaining a small, limited measure of power only by banding together) - fighting against the cosmic isn’t futile. You can clear out these dungeons, you can rebuild the town and make it livable.

Maybe you can’t be sure the apocalyptic scenario you’re staring down won’t eventually happen, even if it happens after you die. But you can still help. You can leave things better than you found them. You can do it by supporting the people around you, by improving your little corner of things here and there, and even by taking the time to enjoy life. To stop fighting for a while and just have a night out in the tavern. (Because this game understands that if you never take a break your stress levels will literally kill you.)

Which I consider a far more productive mindset than the ‘just give up, there’s nothing you can do’ attitude coming from that your garbage asshat ancestor.

It’s a bad situation. But you’re going to make the most of it.

#video james #darkest dungeon #meta #the real cosmic horror is climate change

[ty-talks-comics]

Best of Marvel: Week of January 1st, 2019

Best of this Week: Thor #1 - Donny Cates, Nic Klein, Matt Wilson and Joe Sabino

What a Thunderous way to begin the New Year! What better way to celebrate than with a glorious new #1 for the new King of Asgard helmed by the ever amazing Donny Cates, Nic Klein and Matt Wilson with awesome letters by Joe Sabino! This book hit so many good notes and lets me breathe knowing that one of Marvel’s most storied characters is continuing to be in good hands, especially after such an epic run by the awesome Jason Aaron.

The book begins with an amazing splash page of Mjolnir flying through space and then crossing into each of the Ten Realms as someone narrates Thor’s rise as the new King. It’s a beautiful sequence that alludes to the millennia of war between the realms, culminating in Malekith’s Invasion of them all very recently. Klein and Wilson treat the reader to a variety of landscapes from the bright pinks of Alfheim to the cold blues of Jotunheim. The pair do an amazing job characterizing these locales through visuals alone.

Of course, the reasoning behind the monologue and the throw itself is a show of force. Under Odin, the Realms fought each other as they pleased. Asgard was left in ruins because the All-Father was too stubborn to try and rally his people during Malekith’s Invasions. Under Thor, that would not be the case. As Mjolnir cracks through each Realm, without any of them hearing his words, they know to listen and fear him because of his power. This epic opening climaxes with Mjolnir crashing through the head of some monster the Avengers were fighting before Thor calls it back with a smirk from Asgard.

It is at this point that we finally see Thor, months after the War of the Realms. He is gruff, his hair and beard have grown out again and we learn through Tony Stark sharpie-ing a message on Mjolnir that Thor has retired. Sif the All-Seeing reiterates this as she informs the reader that Thor’s smiting days are over and that he must go and be King. 

This is...saddening in all honesty. Thor has spent many a lifetime fighting, drinking and avoiding his destiny for so long. He has always wanted to be king, but even as he walks down the Rainbow Bridge back to New Asgard, he looks as if there’s nothing but melancholy about him. The way that Klein frames this panel makes it seem as if there’s a wide divide between Thor and Asgard. The Realm flourishes now that life has been brought to it under Yggdrasil, but Thor is bored.

As he takes a seat on his new throne, we’re shown just how different he is to Odin. Instead of a shimmering palace, Odin’s hall is made of wood and stone because of the World tree with a rune etched just above his seat: Thurisaz, a symbol of defense and destruction (as the book describes) and perfectly fitting of the warrior king. He ushers his court out of his presence and sighs as he prepares to speak to his people and Loki appears from the shadows.

The brothers relationship here is far more confrontational than I would have expected. Granted, I didn’t read the Loki mini-series, so I don’t know if the Trickster did something to draw his brother’s ire. Thor is very terse with the King of Jotunheim and even throws Mjolnir in slight fury after Loki notes that Thor had to grunt when he lifted the hammer, something he’s never done before and a black portent for Thor’s future. Loki didn’t come out with any of his normal witticisms which was unexpected, but Cates does hint that there a potentially big things in store for the brothers through some narration.

Thor had been meant to speak to his people following the restoration of Asgard, but just as he’s about to regale his people of the new era of peace, his nervous butterflies turn to abject horror as a one armed Galactus crashes into Asgard, right on top of the Asgardians. Nic Klein and Matt Wilson spare no expense in making this one of the most epic double page spreads imaginable.

Galactus face of pain and sends a shiver down the spine as one wonders what could possibly have sent him crashing in the way that he did. The debris, people and smoke fly around the edges of the pages as Galactus’ impact and the snow that follows him creates a sense of unease. Klein makes sure that the reader can feel the weight of the crash and Sabino accentuates it with his EXCELLENT “KRAKOOOMM” sound effect. Wilson excellently blends Galactus varying purple tones to the fire just behind his head to create a sense of extreme heat. Klein creates a grand sense of scale as Thor appears miniscule to both Galactus and the incoming threat.

Not knowing what the hell had just occurred, Thor leaps a Galactus with every intention of sending him to Hel herself until the Eater of Worlds pleads with him to stop, warning him of something called “The Great Black Winter.” Part of said Winter had followed Galactus and caused the skies of Asgard to be cursed with rain and The World Tree began to turn black and die. Thor then calls previous Heralds of Galactus to see what is going on. At the table sits Firelord, Cosmic Ghost Rider and others until the Silver Surfer arrives, still black and intangible (See Silver Surfer: Black).

Thor is angry and demands answers which the Surfer is able to provide. We learn that The Great Black Winter was the event that destroyed the Universe before the one we know today and that the Surfer had hidden away powerful planets for Galactus to consume precisely for this occasion. Cates has done an amazing job in building a new lore and power scale for the Silver Surfer in particular as normally he’d have no secrets from his master.

As Thor dons his vestments of war, he thinks back to Sif and Loki’s words of his bygone days as a warrior. It’s a powerful set of panels as Thor seemed ready to enjoy his days of peaceful boredom. He grunts like an older man only snapping his cape on, but that doesn’t stop his kingly heart as when he approaches Galactus, he commands the World Eater to kneel to him. As The Surfer fills Galactus in on his plan, Galactus tells all about what lies in the void of the Great Black Winter; The form of ones own true death. Galactus reveals that he had gazed into it twice. First he saw the void because he couldn’t father the future things that he would see and next… he saw Thor.

The revelation comes as a shock to everyone as Galactus then blasts Thor with an immense amount of energy. Kein and Wilson make sure to shower the pages with bright light, intense lines and posing until revealing Thor: Herald of Thunder, similar to the cover of the book with Thurisaz as the new symbol of his chest. 

Donny Cates has a particular style when he writes. He scripts grand moments interlaced with shorter ones that build character. It worked when we got into the psyche of the Silver Surfer as he explored the primordial state of being and Thanos as he watched a future where he had killed all of life. Cates has an affinity for the cosmic characters and it shows as he’s taken the reigns of Thor and reminds us of why he and his lore have been able to capture our imaginations for so long. 

Thor has the ability to transverse the Ten Realms, the entire universe if he wishes, but even he suffers the melancholy of duty and boredom. He is a warrior at heart and he needs a great battle to fight in or he loses a part of himself that kept him motivated. With that in mind, Cates is looking to take Thor on a grand adventure in the stars with a buffed powerset that hopefully will expand on his greater strength in the Old King Thor future.

Nic Klein and Matt Wilson make all of this possible however with their amazing art. Klein is easily able to get into the groove of drawing these vast environments, amazingly dynamic poses and heavily expressive faces. Wilson brings it all to life with beautiful and vibrant colors that make you feel as though you’re in there, interacting with the characters. Without them, this wouldn’t feel as epic as it does.

This was a very explosive issue and I’m absolutely excited for the future of this series as I have been with all of Cates’ other work up to this point. It’s definitely a high recommend from me for a promising story and absolutely fantastic art!

#thor #loki #galactus #cosmic marvel #marvel #comic review #donny cates #nic klein #matt wilson #norse mythology

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Michael in the Mainstream - It: Chapter 2

Movies like It seem to be so scarce nowadays. It’s a horror movie that was actually scary, with good characters with a solid dynamic and plenty of entertainment value, not to mention the fact that it pulled off the miraculous feat of having child actors who not only didn’t suck but are better than some adult actors. And then on top of all that, it’s an adaptation that, in a lot of ways, improves on and polishes the coke-fueled insane fever dream that is the original Stephen King novel. So of course, seeing as it only adapted roughly half of the novel’s story (or maybe more like a third considering all of the backstory of the distant past of It’s time in Derry), the sequel was always going to have its work cut out for it, and would inevitably be standing in the shadow of the previous film.

I’d be lying if I said this film was as good as its predecessor. It’s not. It’s not as scary, it has some really underwhelming moments, and it cut out a lot of the backstory and other elements that seemed like they would really help flesh out the movie’s universe and Pennywise. But all that aside, this is still a good movie, a great one even. Just maybe not a great horror movie. You see, It: Chapter 2 does something very odd despite maintaining the cosmic horror elements of the previous film – it turns itself into a black comedy.

I have to say that some of it must be unintentional. I don’t know for sure we were supposed to find Mrs. Kersh rushing Beverly looking like a nude Large Marge hilarious, for instance. But then you have moments like Stephen King’s cameo, or the leper vomiting on Eddie and playing the first line of the chorus of “Angel of the Morning” for literally no reason and you start to realize the film actually does have a fairly good sense of humor. Once again, this is mainly due to Richie, whose older self is portrayed by Bill Hader. Hader absolutely steals the movie, somehow managing to make a character who was intolerable in the original book and miniseries likable, humorous, and even heartfelt and emotional at points. There’s actually a really great twist to Richie here that I appreciated being put in. And his banter with the equally show-stealing James Ransone as Eddie only adds on to how great he is.

Of course, much like the miniseries, this half would fall apart if the rest of the adults weren’t able to to represent themselves well, but thankfully they all turn in great performances that truly channel what the child actors built up. Hader as Richie as Jessica Chastain as Beverly are probably the most accurate look-wise in addition to really getting what made audiences love the child versions of their characters, but even ones who look a bit less like the kids like James McAvoy absolutely kill it, though in regards to McAvoy I really don’t think I’ve ever seen the man put in a bad performance. All of these characters are likable, fun, funny, and manage to carry the story even when they’re just sitting around talking – again, in stark contrast to the miniseries, where almost every single one of the adults was just relentlessly dull or unfunny.

Of course, what would this movie be without Pennywise? The movie does make good use out of Bill Skarsgard, even if a lot of the intriguing backstory was cut. While he maintains the sinister, creepy atmosphere he had in the first film, meaning he never quite devolves into the hilarious trolling Tim Curry’s Pennywise dabbled in, he does get a lot of amusing, goofy moments, a highlight being the blackly comical scene where he taunts Richie over his “dirty little secret” with a goofy song while the townsfolk sway their heads along to the tune. Overall though, he’s even more brutal and cruel than before, especially since we get even more graphic depictions of him killing children, with two of them being just needlessly cruel.

His first kill is not only that, but also needlessly shocking. They adapted the Adrian Mellon death scene, which is greatly appreciated since it is a kind of sick cruelty that still exists today and the commentary King was making when he wrote the scene will be relevant until homophobia is squashed out. The thing is, though, the homophobic bullies just… disappear from the story, without any comeuppance. I did read an interview where the director said their comeuppance was unfortunately cut, which leads the scene to feel like it’s just there to be shocking rather than commenting on how humanity can sometimes be more monstrous than the eldritch flesh-eating clown that lives in the sewer.

That’s not the only wonky story element, either; Henry returns, but he has so little impact on the plot it’s a wonder why they even put him in at all, especially seeing as they cut out Christine’s cameo and Pennywise turning into a dog – two highlight’s of Henry’s portion of the story in the book. Adding to that, Henry actually doesn’t even accomplish anything; in the book, he severely wounds Mike and Eddie, while here he… mildly inconveniences them for short periods of time. He’s utterly pointless, and it’s weird how they’d keep him in and water him down while simultaneously cutting out Bill’s wife and Bev’s husband, the latter of whom makes quite an impression in his single scene. I’m not saying it’s bad that they cut those two out – the novel is filled with unnecessary side characters that could be easily trimmed with little detriment to the story, both of them included – but it is a bit weird that they didn’t try to do anything with them and instead just kind of screwed Henry over.

Then of course, as is the norm for adaptations of It, the ending is a tad bit underwhelming. It certainly is not to the same level as the original miniseries, what with its terrible stop-motion spider, but it still ends up being a bit corny when they actually step up and defeat Pennywise, though thankfully the blow is cushioned by a lot of creativity in the initial confrontation. And while the final battle is not perfect, the ending is a lot better than in the novel, with bittersweetness given a lot more triumph and happiness than the novel’s far more downbeat ending. And I think, flaws aside, that right there is a testament to how good the movie is: I was so happy to see all of these characters get the happy ending that the underwhelming final battle and the other problems of the movie didn’t matter much in the long run, I was just happy these characters I love and who I have seen suffer countless hardships and heartbreaks finally get the happy endings they deserve, for the most part anyway.

I think this is a very good, strong film, if not a perfect one; I think that generally speaking people who liked the first one will enjoy this, and if you go in knowing this isn’t going to be on the same level as the first one you’ll probably like it. Understanding that it’s much funnier than it is scary will probably be a big help. This isn’t a particularly scary film especially compared with the first one, but that opening scene is intensely uncomfortable and if you don’t like seeing children messily devoured by clowns then I’d still say avoid this if you’re faint of heart.

It’s strange how history repeats. 27 years prior to the first film, the miniseries came out, and it had an extremely solid first half get bogged down by a second half that just couldn’t live up to it. It’s not an exact repeat; It: Chapter 2 is nowhere near being a bad film, and lands more in the ‘good film overshadowed by its predecessor’ category, but it’s still kind of sad that adaptations of such an iconic novel have just never been able to stick the landing.

I guess that’s what they get for cutting out Matarin.

#Michael in the Mainstream #Review #Movie review #It #It: Chapter 2 #Stephen King #Pennywise #Black comedy #horror

[umbrahighpriestofgiratina]

Rude Awakening Chapter 10

Welp. Here it is. The final chapter other than the epilogue I'm planning. It's quite the finale, I enjoyed putting it together, and I hope you enjoy reading it: Chapter 10: Endgame

Palkia was in a huddle around a table with both her group and Lucina's group. Even Wuzzles was looking over the maps and charts with curiosity. "Okay," said Palkia. "Does everyone know the plan so far?" There were murmurs of agreement among the group. "Alright. Dialga, Lucina, you two had that thing, right?" "Yes, we did," said Lucina. "We should be able to consult with Naga shortly," said Dialga. "Excellent," said Palkia. "Then let's roll." ------- Naga was resting, meditating. Then she opened her eyes and saw Lucina and Dialga, the latter in his dragon form, there. "Dialga! And... Exalt Lucina?" Lucina stared in awe and then bowed. "Oh Lady Naga, it is a most esteemed honor to be in your presence! Let me recite the holy rites of-" ~You can skip it, me and Naga are on good terms,~ said Dialga. "Indeed we are," said Naga. "What brings you here?" "I have a plan," Lucina said. "A plan to stop Grima. But I need your and Dialga's help." "And what exactly do you need?" said Naga. "I read you know a ritual. A ritual to alter the course of time." Naga's eyes widened. "That ritual is extremely dangerous... It could undo all of reality if performed incorrectly..." "I know. But it could be our only hope." "A suggestion, if I may?" said Dialga. "What is it?" said Naga. "Really, I'm a firm believer that the only way to do time travel is to not do time travel," said Dialga. "But! There's one relatively less messy way to do it." "And that would be?" said Lucina. "We create an alternate timeline. We can't save this one... but we can save another, just like it, and start over." "That's... Crazy enough to work." said Naga. "If I can save my father and his friends that way... I suppose it will work," said Lucina. "Excellent. Now hold on..." said Dialga. He closed his eyes, then telepathically reached out to Palkia. ~Sister? We may begin Stage 2.~ --------------- Grima looked out over his desolate domain. Risen dominated the landscape and the skies were gloomy. It was perfect. His human body sat back and chuckled. He was content. The world could spiral further into entropy and he'd just lau- ...Wait. What was that noise? It started soft, but it grew louder, louder, and it soon became apparent that it was some sort of strange... music? Whatever it was it was agony to Grima's ears, and he recoiled and writhed, not noticing his Risen were being drawn towards the noise. ----- The Risen were drawn to an enormous, elaborate dance floor. Sitting there at the DJ table were Giratina and Wuzzles. Giratina raised a claw to greet the incoming Risen. "Yo! You all ready to par-tay?" The Risen gave gurgles and groans reminiscent of cheers. "Well let's get rocking!" Wuzzles turned on a disco ball and lights, and the Risen all started dancing to the tune of Mahna Mahna. ------------ Around the world, survivors took notice of the lack of Risen. They ventured out of bunkers, out of ruined homes, in awe of what was happening. And they were all startled when hoop-like portals appeared near each of them, and a visage of an enormous dijin-like creature appeared in their minds. ~Yo! If you wanna get out of this mess escape is that-a-way!~ said Unbound Hoopa. The people hesitated. ~Let me put it this way... You either accept the help of this giant monster... or let the other giant monster continue killing you all. Your choice.~ With that the people started filing into the portals. ~That'll do it! Just don't touch anything or I'll throw you right back out!~ ------------- The zombie dance party continued. The Risen were raving and grooving and busting moves. It was then Giratina gave a wink to Wuzzles, and Wuzzles pulled out and pressed a button. The dance floor caved in, and thousands if not millions of Risen were dropped into a swirling pit of darkness and blades below. ------------- In some other universe, several trucks wheeled up to a popular fast-food restaurant with a bell-shaped logo. Inside the trucks were a large number of boxes labeled "burito meet". The restaurant employees shrugged and started hauling it in. ----------- Grima recovered as the music faded. He gazed out in horror. The survivors he needed to purge, gone. His forces, decimated. He roared in unbridled rage. "Who did this?! Who has insulted me?! Show yourselves!" "Yoo-hoo!" Grima turned to find Palkia standing before his human form. "I'm back. And I'm here to kick your ass." "How do you dare hope to defeat me, worm?" "Oh, I'm no worm." She stretched and grew until she was in her dragon form. "You killed my best friend in this world. You killed almost all of my friends in this world period. I'm taking you down." "You dare challenge me, false god?" said Grima. "How hilarious. Do your best." His dragon head lunged at Palkia. Palkia responded in kind. ---------------- The children of the Shepherds were all gathered together. Lucina, Naga, Panne, Virion, Libra, and Dialga were looking over them all. "Okay... We seem to have everyone," said Lucina. "...Wait," said Naga. "Where's Morgan?" "Oh!" said Virion. "She said she had to use the restroo-" He squinted off into the distance. "...Oh no." ------- The battle between Palkia and Grima raged on. Grima snapped his jaws and fired bursts of dark energy while Palkia fired orbs of water and sliced with spatial rifts. It was during one of these exchanges, however, that the two heard a noise. "Hey! Jerkface!" The two turned to see a third dragon, hovering nearby. "Guess what? I'm not afraid anymore!" Grima roared and snapped his jaws at Morgan. Morgan quickly darted out of the way, and Palkia moved between them to keep his jaws pried open. "Morgan?!" said Palkia. "What are you doing here?!" "I didn't want to go with the others!" said Morgan. "I wanted to help you fight!" "Grima's dangerous! Leave this to me!" "And just run away?" "Fine! I go for the dragon body, you go for the human body!" With that, Morgan flew down, and confronted Grima's human vessel. "My my my," he said, looking her over. "Look at how you've grown." "You... Dad..." said Morgan. "Enough with your petty sentimentalities," said Grima. "The line of Naga ends here." He conjured a lightning bolt and threw it at Morgan, who flew out of the way. "No!" said Morgan. "You're not my dad anymore and you killed my mom! You end here!" She unleashed a blast of draconic flame that scorched Grima's human body as he yelled in pain. This caused the dragon head to recoil, allowing Palkia to get in a decisive strike. "You still dare to defy me, false god?" "First off," said Palkia, "you're no god. You're a parasite, one that ate someone who cared about me and who I cared about back from the inside out." "The old me was always destined to be subsumed by the true me... Oh, the pathetic little thing fought so hard to avoid it in so many ways.. But I am always the one to emerge victorious in the end. I always find a way." "From what I see your way always involves subterfuge, manipulation, and cold-blooded murder. A showoff, yeah, but nothing special. You're pathetic." She gave a draconic grin. "Second of all... I'm more of a god than you'll ever be. And let me show you exactly how." With that, her body flashed, and Grima's vision was overwhelmed by light. -------------- Space. Infinite amounts of space. Floating within the space were cosmic pearls of various colors and sizes, but all too massive for any mind to comprehend. And yet Grima was being forced to comprehend it, this true form of Palkia's, this raw embodiment of space that made him squirm and scream in agony. His mind had been thoroughly been cracked open. And that was more than enough for a telepathic force to sneak inside. ------------ Palkia was in a void. In her human form she tiptoed around the darkness until she came across a sight that made her heart stop. There was Robin, chained, helpless. His eyes were closed. Palkia ran over to him. "R-Robin! I knew it, I knew you were still in here somehow, some way..." Robin's eyes slowly opened, and opened wide upon seeing Palkia. "V-Valentina?! Is that you? I... Still exist?" "Yes, you do, Robin! Please, we have to get out of here..." "N-No, I can't... I deserve oblivion, I ''want'' oblivion... Please go, Valentina, it will spare us both so much pain..." "Robin, no... Y-you can't give up like this... Grima is not you, he never was you..." "It's too late... I've let him consume me and all I was utterly... No one would want me to go back even if I could... I'm sorry, Valentia, at least... This way... In... a twisted sense... I'm at... peace..." Robin's eyes closed again. Palkia clenched her fist. When her fist opened there was a strange orb of gold light inside. "Here... Robin... Live to the promise Chrom asked of you... Escape..." She touched the orb of gold light to Robin's forehead, where it sunk in and was absorbed. Tears streamed down her face. "You most likely won't remember me if you do... But I don't care... I just want you to be happy again..." There was another flash of light. ------ Grima recoiled and yelled, while Palkia backed off. "Ugh... Fool! You cannot stop me with your tricks! Defying me is futile!" Palkia shrugged. "I don't know, it's a good distraction?" "...Wait, what?" His dragon head looked around. Then his eyes locked on a pinprick of light in the distance. "No... No!" ----------------------- A massive portal had been opened, the children of the Shepherds about to file inside. Virion and Libra hugged Nah and Noire, while Panne talked to Yarne. "M-mom? I'm scared. Really scared." said Yarne. "Steady yourself," said Panne. "You have a duty to fulfill. Find me. Find your father. And you will be all right." "Okay mom..." They hugged. "Uh, guys?" said Dialga. "You may want to hurry up!" The children turned to see Grima and the remaining Risen heading their way. "Everybody now!" said Lucina. In unison, they all jumped in. Dialga, Naga, Virion, Libra and Panne jumped out of the way as Grima and the Risen charged through the portal as well. The portal closed behind them as the ones left behind got to their feet. "Are they... Okay?" said Libra. "They may be scattered... but they will survive," said Naga. "It is in the hands of the people of the new timeline now." Giratina, Wuzzles, Hoopa, Palkia, and Morgan - the last in her human form - converged around the others. "They make it?" said Hoopa. "They did." said Panne. Suddenly, cracks started appearing in the sky. "Wha- what's happening?" said Virion. "This universe... It's dying." said Naga. "Dying?!" said Palkia. "No, it can't be..." "It has been coming a while," said Naga. "With Grima's rise most of the old gods have moved on. I was one of the only ones left. And that ritual consumed most of my power even with Dialga's help. You all need to get out of here at once." "No... Naga, we can't just leave you..." said Dialga. Naga's hands glowed. "I'm sorry Dialga. I love you." There was a flash. ---------------- Everyone found themselves in the Temporal Dimension, Dialga's home. Of the party, however, Naga was nowhere to be seen. "No..." said Dialga. "No, no, no!" He tried to charge away from the others, only for Palkia and Giratina to restrain him. "Let go! I need to save her! I need to stop this! Why won't... you... let me?!" He let out an unholy screech as the stripes on his body glowed a deep orange and the gem on his chest burned red. "Dialga... please... Stop..." said Palkia. "Bro... Please..." said Giratina. "Uncle Dialga!" said Morgan. Upon hearing her voice the glow on his body faded. "...What... what is it?" said Dialga. "I know grandma Naga is... gone... But you can't lose hope. We've gotten so far. We made the new timeline and saved Lucina's friends. And... wherever we are I hope you can show me around." Dialga paused. He turned to Morgan and gave a faint smile. "...I suppose I will." And everyone moved to rest. ***

So yeah. That's that. I'd give thoughts on the whole experience writing this fic but I'll save that for the epilogue.

#pokemon #fire emblem #fanfiction #palkia #grima #yangverse

[nautilusopus]

Question game, tagged by @tofuthebold​ oh damn

1. What was your first CD/album/record? (assuming you have bought at least one) - Paula Abdul’s Forever Your Girl. I listened to that thing often enough to where it kind of looped around on itself and, much like anything Genesis puts out, I have a Pavlovian hate response associated with it now. Also, it took me a while to realise Paula Abdul kind of sucked. 

2. What kind of fictional characters you like the most, and give some examples here - Lol everyone knows I have a type, which I’m actually gonna copy/paste from a previous ask: “maladjusted child soldier screaming VALIDATE MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE from the top of the lightpole they climbed up to avoid their feelings, and they all deserve a good hug and a firm shove down a flight of stairs or two, in either order.” 

So, you got your Cloud Strifes, your Zukos, your Azulas, your Shinji Ikaris, and anyone else that decides to crawl out of the Bad Decisions Dumpster to poorly attempt this “making friends” business.

3. What kind of natural environment you enjoy the most? Beaches. Maybe that also comes with living in landlocked suburbia, and also because I’m always cold, and because there aren’t as many bugs at the beach. I’d say the woods or something, but if I spend more than three minutes anywhere near grass I am immediately swarmed by chiggers and mosquitos.  

4. Name something about yourself you genuinely like. I’m very, very good at talking. (Which I have to be. Commercials and all.) 

5. For you, what is the most important facet of a fictional world/concept in various media: the world’s social system building? the characters and their interactions? Or something else? Characters 1000%. You can carry the stupidest, most ill-conceived barebones nonsense of a story in the world if you have interesting, compelling characters. Just look at Overwatch, and how utterly convinced people are that it has a plot at all. 

And on the other hand, the reverse is true -- you can have a masterfully crafted literary epic, and no one will remotely care if the characters are unrelatable mouthpieces for plot to happen out of. Look at, like... basically any cosmic horror story every, where the author’s so busy wanking over their Kewl Badass Old God OC DO NOT STEAL and building an entire lore around it to emphasise how utterly alien it is that they forget the most fundamental piece of any horror, even the cosmic variety where human life ultimately does not matter, is the human element. What point is there in going, “Haha! Your struggles are all for naught against a universe you cannot truly fathom!” if we don’t even know what those struggles are in the first place? Why should we care about the ultimate pointlessness of everything if we don’t know what the characters so desperately want to have a point? Does insignificance in the grand scheme of things necessarily mean the same thing as pointlessness?

Any chucklefuck can slap tentacles onto something and call it cosmic horror, but the “horror” part of it only comes from the fear humans have of that uncaring cosmos in the first place. 

(Despite claiming to be a cosmic horror fan, I think I actually kind of hate almost all of it???)

6. Time travel, future or the past? And why? This question is fucking booby-trapped, that shit never ends well. If there even is one, I’d skip ahead to when space flight is a thing and we’ve finally found aliens. But honestly I’d probably go back to summer of 2016 when everyone was playing Pokemon and gay marriage had just been legalised and it looked like the world was actually slowly becoming a better place (HA).

7. What’s your favourite thing about your own culture? And why? I mean I’m really wary about claiming anything as “my culture” because every time I try someone goes and says “you’re not _____ enough to say you’re _____”, but it’s not like I’m white passing either so I don’t know what y’all want me to do. 

That said, Korean food is really fucking good. It’s easy to make, too -- the only issue with it is that it’s very labour-intensive, with like eight different ingredients per dish all needing to be prepped in advance. 

See this? This is seolleongtang. It’s delicious. I’m also never, ever making it, because any recipe with the words “Day 2″ in it can fuck right off. 

8. If you have enough money, what kind of job you want to do most? why? I really want to get back into voiceover work, but the industry is extremely crowded. To that end I’m currently attempting to get back into college so I have extra qualifications that make me more hireable, but I’m having trouble getting a loan for several thousand dollars right now that I know I’d never make back. Commercials are where all the real money is (with video game voiceovers being one of the worst-paying acting jobs you can possibly take unless you’re John DiMaggio or Nolan North or Steve Blum or something), but if I was rich and didn’t have to worry about my livelihood, I’d try and aim for cartoons. 

9. Describe your ideal fashion aesthetic. Janelle Monae. All tuxedos all day every day. I would never wear anything else. 

10. Do you have a favourite cartoon? What’s that? I’d like you to share the memories with me. I mean it’s probably Avatar? I actually didn’t have cable growing up, and only ever watched shows “everyone has watched” starting from when I was sixteen and learned how to pirate shit. 

Prior to that, the only cartoons I’d ever watched were anything that aired on public access, which would have been Scooby Doo and Tom and Jerry. And I liked Tom and Jerry more because it had animals in it, and the animation wasn’t as constrained by budget (not that I knew that at the time). 

I tag @cateringisalie, @terror-billie, @daily-kaley. I’m not sure how many people I’m supposed to be tagging, or even if you guys do these sort of posts. 

#asks

[orionsangel86]

13x12 - Episode Review - What is Fifth Base Anyway?

So the people at Google must have been confused when they discovered the number of searches for “fifth base” drastically went up overnight… Steve Yokey you cheeky bugger I love you! (Show of hands everyone who did this? Go on, admit it!)

This episode was really good. One of the stronger ones of an already very strong bunch as season 13 continues to exceed in quality. It had jokes, it had deep emotional revelations, it had Cas once again using his SuperPower of sassing the fuck out of things to get what he wants. Yeah it was pretty awesome! So let’s delve into the main points.

The Red Herring Love Spell

We were all expecting this to be an episode similar to 12x11 based on how it was marketed to us. Dean is under a love spell! It’s up to Sam and Rowena to save him! That seemed to be the gist of the PR team’s focus. As ever, PR is not Showrunning and this turned out to be one giant red herring.

The love spell lasted all of five minutes. So why bother? WHY was a love spell even PART of this plot?! Seriously? Someone tell me how this episode couldn’t have followed the EXACT same narrative with the sisters using some other spell to force people to do things for them? The fact is, that love spell was pointless for the plot but excellent for getting people thinking about LOVE. Specifically, Dean Winchester and LOVE, or at least, what love should be, and what it most definitely is not.

Aside from the fact that the clunky music whenever the love spell was invoked made me cringe, I thoroughly enjoyed how innocent it all seemed. Dean got to play Prince Charming to the princess and provide her with a gift of her choosing. I think it says something about Dean that the love spell encouraged this fairy tale vibe specifically for him, when for Dale at the start it was all about him playing protector and hero through violence and theft. I just thought it was an interesting statement about Dean’s wishes and desires compared to other men. Though I gotta admit, the gift giving, goofiness and oh I dunno, protecting his lover from a gun? It all seemed rather familiar to me… Hmmm…

I mean who else has Dean previously entrusted with powerful one off weapons?

Who else has Dean had to recently protect from a pointed gun much to his own horror rather than the recipient who is unlikely to be harmed by a regular gun anyway?

Who else makes Dean goofy and pull these silly delighted faces?

*looks into the camera like on the Office*

Yeah, but see these are not really examples of true love, even though they are all things done with Cas. What IS true love in season 13 is something that subtextually KEEPs getting referred to in EVERY EPISODE. That in 13x01 – 13x05 Dean was deeply lost in grief. Deeply mourning over the loss of Cas – someone who he is truly in love with. Love makes you do crazy things? Yeah, and as Billy said in 13x05 (Yokey’s last episode FYI) Dean wanted to die. Cas’s death had brought him to that level. The fact that now it is SAM who is feeling low, feeling powerless because of the loss of Mary and Jack, and Dean is able to remain focussed and have HOPE that they will save them, continues to be astonishingly hypocritical of Dean given where he was when Cas was dead. But it does keep drawing our attention to that fact, and for that I love it.

Bonus point for “I think you may be right, I think its time we go ahead and call Cas…” … “I’m in love” because Yokey could have written Sam saying ANYTHING at that point but he chose to remind the audience about Cas at that exact moment… as Dean announces he is in love, because the two are connected (and because it then wouldn’t be that much of a stretch to assume that Sam’s initial reaction is “Oh… so you finally admit it?”)

(FYI this crappy gif is my own. Don’t judge. It’s the first I’ve ever made.)

Sam’s mild amusement here just fits the “oh so you finally admit it? We can call Cas and start the wedding preparations?” interpretation and NO ONE can stop me seeing it that way! :D

Bonus Point two for the mentions of “Soulmates” (which relate to Angels in the show) and “Cosmic” (which again, tends to relate to angels and Cas).

Bonus point three that this is an episodes marketed as Dean being in love! LOOK AT ALL THIS HETEROSEXUALITY! It seems to scream at our general audiences, and yet, as always in SPN, if the GA are seeking heterosexuality, they are to be disappointed. They got a 5 minute mini love spell plot and Dean once again is without even a hint of an actual true female romantic partner. Nope, sorry heteros seeking a woman for Dean. You won’t find that here!

Basically, it’s not too much of a stretch to interpret this entire love spell mini plot as exposition for the TRUTH regarding Dean and “true love”. Because we all know it. It’s right there in the subtext. I just wish they’d make it text already.

Review continues under the cut as per usual...

Addressing Long unspoken Trauma – FINALLY

Officially my favourite part of the episode (unofficially my second fave part after “fifth base”), the conversations between Sam and Rowena about their trauma at the hands of Lucifer had me welling up. This is the first time in SPN history that Sam has actually opened up to ANYONE about his Lucifer trauma. Read that again. Be amazed that it has taken this long. Send Dabb and Yokey a fruit basket for this.

One thing season 13 has been excellent at doing, is making things textual that were previously only implied. This seems to be a continued trend following on from the reveal in 12x22 that Dean is effectively Sam’s parent (A fact meta writers have been talking about for YEARS.)

I don’t really have much to say about it actually, because it’s all just THERE in the text. It has left me kind of speechless.

SAM: Its not gonna change anything, you’re still gonna feel helpless. What Lucifer did to you…

ROWENA: I told you I don’t… before he crushed my skull, Lucifer showed me his face. His true face. I’m scared Sam. All the time.

SAM: I’ve seen it too. What he really looks like behind… behind whatever vessel… yeah it still keeps me up at night.

ROWENA: How do you deal with it?

SAM: I guess I don’t deal with it, not really. I mean I…Ive pushed it down, and the world kept almost ending and so I keep pushing it down and I dunno… I don’t really talk about it, not even with Dean, I mean I could… he would listen but, it’s not something I really know how to share.

…..

SAM: Even if you do get the book, and even if you get your power back. It won’t matter. You won’t ever be able to change what happened, you won’t be able to change how helpless you felt, or how helpless you feel. You’re still gonna get scared. That feeling, that feeling never goes away.

ROWENA: Never?

SAM: Never.

…

Honestly it’s perfect. Yokey has decided that enough is enough. We need to discuss this. We need to talk about the fact that our main characters have a shit load of trauma. It’s about GODDAMN TIME.

(x)

I just want to scream about the shots for a second though because god bless Amanda Tapping for being so excellent at capturing emotions. I am starting to think she is one of the best directors for it. The intimate long close ups on the actors faces as they open about this stuff, it just works. The soft music in the back ground pulls no focus away from the gravity of Sam’s words. It’s intense, and harrowing and kudos to Jared here because I think he must have been ITCHING for a moment like this for Sam for YEARS (and for god sake someone ask him about this scene at a con instead of more bloody prank questions PLEASE.)

I also love that it’s Rowena who Sam opens up to about this stuff, because she has that in common with him. I know that it can be argued that Cas has also experienced trauma at the hands of Lucifer, but since Cas is an angel it’s not the same. I doubt Lucifer’s true face would affect Cas, since Cas is already an angel with the ability to see and cope with seeing things that human minds struggle to comprehend.

I think Rowena and Sam is our new Dean and Crowley. They are enemies, but they have a mutual respect for one another and I see this as a really good thing both for Sam and Rowena. Because Crowley was changed thanks to his bond with Dean (love for Dean), he was able to find redemption in that. Rowena could also now find redemption, especially considering her newly powered up status. For Sam I think it was a smart choice to give Rowena the pages at the end. It wasn’t just about the bond they formed over shared trauma, it was Sam knowing that Rowena is right, that Lucifer will always find a way back, and Sam knows that eventually he will have to face him again, and he needs all the help and power he can get, so a powered up Rowena is a powerful ally to have against the creature that tortured and broke both their spirits.

Am I shipping them? No, not really. I still think Rowena is a villain. I never shipped Drowley, though I acknowledge it’s existence in the show as basically a hairsbreadth away from canon. (it’s technically just as close to canon if not more so than Destiel and strongly implied that they hooked up in various episodes). But if the show did go there with Sam and Rowena I wouldn’t mind it as such. I just don’t think it would be endgame. But sure, it could work for a while. I see them more like frenemies with mutual interests. Besides, I’m a Saileen girl all the way and will continue to hope for Eileen’s resurrection this season.

Narrative Mirrors – Witches and Winchesters

Ah narrative mirrors, don’t we love them? I especially love them when they highlight the Winchester family dynamics and just how screwed up they all are. Our witchy sisters fall extremely easily into this category. Jamie and Jenny or “J2” as I now plan to call them (I see what you did there Yokey). So J2 are motivated to do whatever it takes to bring back mum. Whatever it takes even though they are hardly competent witches and only seem to have one spell mastered – the love spell. The older sister uses her charm to encourage the victims to do whatever they wish for, whilst the younger sister is the smarter of the two, more skilled in magic (I wonder who they are supposed to represent?)

They have one purpose, and will stop at nothing until that purpose is fulfilled:

JAMIE: I’m sorry, I know I’m the big sister and I’m supposed to be the strong one or whatever.

JENNY: Yeah?

JAMIE: I just really miss her.

JENNY: I do too.

JAMIE: I know, and I like, really believe in us

JENNY: Jamie, I just want her back so bad

JAMIE: And we’re going to get her back, even if we have to cast every spell in this book and curse the souls of like a million people to make it happen.

Doesn’t this sound rather familiar? Like from 13x09:

DEAN: You were right, about mom you were right, this whole time we should have been looking for her

SAM: I was just hoping, I didn’t know. And anyway it doesn’t matter, now that we do know.

DEAN: We find her, no matter what it takes.

Which always made me kinda uncomfortable. There is a reason that Billy didn’t want Dean knowing their mum was still alive. Because Billy knows that the Winchesters would break the Universe to bring her back. “House of Cards” she called it. What’s the betting that thanks to Sam and Dean this “house of cards” is going to come tumbling down just as Billy predicted? Because I would put money on it.

At the end of the episode, we realise that Sam and Dean are in exactly the same place as J2. Jamie – the older sister, trying to support and reassure her younger sister, the one who “wants mom back so badly”. Jamie, unlike her sister, is totally focused on completing their task, whereas Jenny has her doubts. Just like Sam and Dean. We know that Dean is back to “We’ll figure it out” and “you and me” even though Sam is NOT on board with this, but like Jenny, Sam will follow Dean into a hornets nest if it means doing what they set out to do and save mum.

The girls mum came back wrong though, a zombie. When Mary was first resurrected she certainly wasn’t what the boys expected either, and now she is lost again, whose to say just what state she will be in when she is finally freed? Perhaps the message for the boys here is to actually let her go? As in, let go of the memory of Mary that they had sat on a pedestal (Dean in particular) and start to accept the woman their mother actually is, and let her do her thing, because otherwise it may kill them all.

And isn’t this moment just a perfect visual representation of the toxic co-dependency that is the Winchester brothers? Stab stab stab. One of them even has a hammer… LOL.

(Yup its another one of my crappy gifs.)

The Sassiest Angel in the Garrison

Oh Cas, I have missed your beautiful face…

(x)

(Dipper agrees with me)

Now I think everyone knows by now that I hate Lucifer. As in, I find the character extremely irritating and just want him off our screens dead and buried, and that Mark P can go annoy some other shows audience. The ONLY thing that makes watching Lucifer remotely bearable for me, is Castiel - wonderful, perfect, funny, grumpy, brilliant Castiel, sassing the fuck out of him. Bearing in mind all their scenes but one took place behind bars, I was as always captivated by Cas and the brilliant genius he is.

So far in season 13, Castiel hasn’t actually spent much time using his powers, his grace, to actually get anything done. What he has done, is be incredibly smart and used that tactician brain of his to talk himself out of any situation. Everything Castiel does has a purpose. He is generally a creature of few words (except when it comes to Dean) and therefore, whenever he does speak, it is usually with a great deal of thought. (There was a brilliant meta on the word “assbutt” and how it is the worst insult he could possibly throw at Lucifer and yet everyone still ridicules him for it. Don’t knock the word assbutt. Cas knew exactly what he was doing!)

And so Cas isn’t just being a sassy little bitch in this episode. He’s being a sassy little bitch with purpose. Lucifer may be powered down, but he still has power. Cas knows this. Cas knows that the best way to get Lucifer activating what little power he has is to make him angry. So what does Cas do? He sass’s him, over and over. Pissing him off until eventually, it works.

“Turns out rage is a good motivator”

Such a badass. Bye bye little Dipper.

This is why you should never underestimate Castiel. He will always get the better of you. He will always come out on top in the end.

“This is me, learning from my mistakes” he says whilst stabbing Lucifer at the end of the episode. I thoroughly enjoyed that moment of course, even if we know already it doesn’t stick. Since Lucifer is alive next episode. *sigh*.

Lucifer has been continuously hinting all episode that he want’s Cas’s grace. It seems possible due to pics from next week, that he may actually get what he seeks.

Cas has blood on his collar, which he doesn’t have at the end of 13x12. So is Cas about to become human again? Or at least graceless? It’s possible. @tinkdw​ wrote this post about it (yes I stole her screencap). We were discussing this in our group chat yesterday and thanks to the themes that would come from another human!Cas story I can certainly get behind it, even if I hate the idea that it isn’t his choice yet again. This time, having Lucifer steal his grace seems worse than the first time. But as I mentioned above, Castiel has already shown several times this season that his grace is in no way where his strengths lie. I just hope that it is still his choice in the end to give it up, or not regain it, however that story may pan out.

But yeah maybe prepare ourselves for a human Cas whose grace was stolen by Lucifer plot? I mean if it doesn’t happen great, but if it does... don’t say we didn’t warn ya okay? I know how sensitive we all get about Cas stuff - this is literally the first any of us had thought of this. Besides, he’ll still be amazing even if Lucifer does take his grace, He’ll get in a few more stabs before the end. No doubt.

Other Awesome Stuff

The “fifth base” scene. Yeah this was certainly risqué of Yokey. I was screaming about this to Tink in the chatty bubbles, trust a gay writer to throw in a gay joke aimed at our currently in the closet bisexual lead character and have him act all awkward like he doesn’t know what it is… *glances at Sam* What? Nope, I’ve never… There’s NO SUCH THING AS FIFTH BASE. Sure Jan. Just as I scoff at the idea of Dean not knowing basic French, the idea that Dean DOESN’T know what fifth base is, is absurd. These are purposely input into this episode to raise our eyebrows and DOUBT them.

Baring in mind the way Rowena asks that question “Did THEY get to fifth base?” not “Did YOU get to fifth base” strongly implies actually that Rowena was asking if Dean was pegged. Let’s get that clear. Once again, we have a bottom!dean joke in the subtext of the show. (At some point we need to round up EVERY reference to Dean’s ass and compare it to the other characters just to make this point.)

Oh gosh I haven’t even got to “What’s by is by” yet. The top result in google for this supposed saying is a destiel fanfic written as coda for this episode. There is NOTHING else. It doesn’t exist. What is Yokey playing at exactly? Bygones be bygones maybe? But she had to say it like that? After a reference to anal? To DEAN? Yeah I know everyone is probably already yelling about this on tumblr but still. This is a very huge WTF from me to Yokey that he would ever think we WOULDN’T pick up on this. He did it on purpose. It has a reason, just like everything else. The reason being “Dean is Bi”.

......

(x)

The final scene with Rowena is spectacular. It’s also oddly erotic but maybe that’s just me. Rowena is finally unbound, powerful, free, and probably quite deadly. Here’s hoping she raises a hell of a storm. I have always loved Rowena’s character so for me this idea of her being “unbound” and basically immortal is really interesting. I just hope this paves the way to her helping the Winchesters defeat the big bads to come. Because I see her becoming more of an ally as time goes by. I hope she continues to have a big part to play in the story, and after this final scene I am practically sure she will. 

....

Castiel speaking about Jack like he’s a proud parent gives me life. He truly loves the kid. It’s beautiful.

....

Why does Lucifer attract so many dick jokes nowadays? I’m actually almost getting tired of them. For shits and giggles I’m gonna accept it at face value that Lucifer, unlike Crowley, is not well endowed. It makes sense. The tantrums, the violence. Little man syndrome. Pfft.

I’m also going to take it at face value that Cas is most likely huge. Yeah, that smirk is telling.

We all know he’s a big boy. ;-)

.... 

Hats off to Brenda. The biggest star of the episode. Never failed to make me laugh every time I watched.

You go Brenda. You were awesome.

Overall

Solid episode with lots of great moments. Now all I need is Cas to find the boys and get really pissy with them when he realises they didn’t ONCE figure out that Colonel Sanders was impersonating him. I mean sure, Dean has super low self esteem and was clearly grumpy with Cas at the start of the episode for only really checking in with Sam, not coming home after taking off, clearly CHOOSING the road over being at home with HIM... But that doesn’t excuse him being blind to Asmodeus’s impersonation. Bring on next week. I hope Dean grovels.

#supernatural #episode review #13x12 #destiel #spn meta #spn speculation #dean is bi #castiel #dean winchester #sam winchester #rowena #lucifer #season 13 #spn spoilers #my reviews #my meta

[thisaintascenereviews]

Astral Tomb - Soulgazer When you think of death metal, what adjectives come to mind? Filthy, dirty, grimy, brutal, and I’m sure many other words come to mind, but I don’t think the adjective “ambient” comes to mind, does it? It shouldn’t, because most death metal is anything but. That’s why I was super curious when Denver death metal band Astral Tomb came across my attention with their debut album Soulgazer. These guys came up on the new releases section on Apple Music, and the album really caught my eye. This is a case of not judging an album by its cover, because just from my first impressions of an album cover like this, as well as with their name and the album title, I thought I’d be getting a progressive death metal band that specializes in cosmic horror. Much to my surprise, however, I got a death metal, grindcore, tech-death ambient album? I put the question mark, because this record is a lot of things in a short amount of time. Clocking in at 37 minutes, Soulgazer takes quite a journey. The first track alone is 12 minutes long, and there are only five songs total on the whole album, and it’s a fantastic opening track. It bobs and weaves through many kinds of death metal and extreme metal, all the while keeping the listener’s attention, but when the album goes into the second track, you’re hit with a completely different experience -- an ambient song. Very tranquil keys play for another four minutes, give or take, and then you’re right back to the thick of death metal. It’s almost like you’re listening to a different album, but it somehow works. It’s almost as the first 12 minutes were so frenzied, off-kilter, and wild that the ambient interlude that shows up, so to speak, is a welcomed break from the insanity and chaos. There’s another ambient track that shows up later, and it serves almost the same purpose, but it somehow works to this band’s advantage. With that said, it took me a couple of listens to really get into this album, but on my first listen, I still really enjoyed it. This is a great album, although what’s holding me back from really loving it (I’d still say this is one of the best of the year so far, honestly, so don’t get upset just yet) are the ambient tracks. Death metal and ambient don’t usually mix, and to be fair, this album makes it work, because the juxtaposition almost feels intentional from how chaotic the death metal tracks are, but at the same time, I’m sort of bored by the ambient tracks, since I’m not huge into that kind of music, anyway. I’m sort of taken out of the album, despite understanding what they’re for, because I’m just here for the death metal. When they hit with that type of stuff, this album rules, an I guess it I wanted to, I could just delete the ambient tracks on my phone and make the album a little shorter, but I don’t know, it wouldn’t feel right. It’s weird, because as much as I’m not crazy about the ambient side of this album, those songs still feel apart of it. I suppose I respect this album a little more than I really like it, but I do enjoy it. It kind of reminds me of the new Vein.fm album, because that album had some great stuff in it, but they experimented with some post-hardcore textures that I didn’t care for, ultimately taking me out of the album. Soulgazer does the same, just not to the same degree, because I’m a sucker for some unique and weird death metal, and when the death metal hits on this album, it absolutely hits.

#astral tomb #soulgazer #death metal #ambient #blood harvest #metal #heavy metal