#we have one half of the guy who murders monarchs should be enough

[thehecklingmouse]

do cecil and sans have enough power to kill the king of england? 

#or is that just a reigen thing #we have one half of the guy who murders monarchs should be enough #cross your fingers #sans undertale #cecil #tumblr sexymen poll #Bones screams into the void

[itonje]

hey sexy stranger who is not me would you like to talk about therese

hello sexy stranger who is not me i WOULD like to talk about therese aka theresa but i changed her name a little bit cause it didnt sound like. idk french enough

anyways therese florien is louis florien (oc)'s younger sister and also the last monarch of the northern empire (actually when she became queen she was the last monarch of just the north because the south and the west had broken off by that point but we'll get to that).

in the main story, 20-30 years after all these events ill be telling later take place, samira and the rest of the continent know her as 'The Coward Queen/Tea-time Queen' because she only ruled for a couple days and immediately forsook the throne when the southern and ko'bi army approached the capital. currently, she resides in the florien ancestral home (summerhead) on the northern continent, and she's converted the castle into both a prayer place and a place where travelers and vagabonds and so on can stay for safety. and she's basically become like a priestess . long long long backstory under the cut

anyways . the first we know of her is that she's louis' younger sister, she's very religious, she's very timid, and she's very close to her father gareth...there are reasons for the last two that have to do with her late mother lorete. so like. louis is a sorcerer which lorete discovered when he was just a child (northern sorcerers are believed to be willingly practicing dark magic against their religion or whatever) and the florien family is already in some deep shit with the royal family (tldr floriens used to be the royal family, were deposed and murdered and so on and also gareth pissed off his cousin back when they were in their twenties or whatever, this will all be relevant later) and so lorete knew that her son would be taken away/the family wld be punished or whatever adn devoted all her attention towards her son and towards concealing his magic from everyone, including his father.

and when she gives birth to therese, her attention is still all lazer focused on louis, and gareth, who doesn't know why she's ignoring her in the first place basically raises his daughter alone up until lorete dies of an outbreak of plague or whatever when therese is four and then he's raising the eight year old louis AND therese alone. therese's timidity comes from both the paranoia her mother exuded when she was little, lorete's death, the fact that when she was young she saw a jousting accident involving her father in which a man died. her piousness comes from the fact that the only thing she really did when she was younger was pray and read while her father was out doing knightly duties (cough cough colonizing) and it provided an outlet for her to vent her emotions ab her upbringing

also, there's a conspiracy the floriens were involved in with a couple other families set up by gareth's grandmother to restore the florien family on the throne (re: louis would become king when the time came) so like even then everyone always gave her brother attention over her because they were convinced he would be king and she was just the second child they didn't care about. in this world like women are as eligible to inherit and own land just as much as men btw louis was just the eldest

anyways because of her very like. kind of stuck up religious nature, her fear, and because the floriens are already kind of pariahs her first friends are just louis' friends, charicle elaphin (the elaphins are a family close 2 the floriens) and the strange iloro girl whos in training to be a knight (kidlat, but her 'northern name' is claire), but they get along very well, making a little sort of friend group.

as the years get on, therese really keeps herself busy just by taking care of her, who's very infirm, and reading more theological stuff (like by her hero, her ancestor aveline florien who was a priestess and religious reformer) and even writing a bit of her own stuff. to the outside world though, her interiority is looked down upon and royal family supporters (ie, against the floriens) even spread rumors about her, like that she's a secret sorcerer or something (the florien family has always had accusations of sorcery flung against them, little do they know there is a witch in her family but it's her brother who's actually the sorcerer)

we mostly either see her thru the perspective of kidlat, who likes her but feels a bit alienated to her like how kidlat feels alienated by everything northern, or louis who is like. apathetic towards her like he feels some affection for her because they're siblings of course but he's not really close to her and he thinks her piousness is self righteous and finds her deep fear and timidity unpleasant to deal with...tho, his greatest resentment towards her comes from the fact that he's always felt his father has preferred her over him (he does btw. like louis isn't wrong lol)

anyways the royal family sets up a wedding for her because louis refuses to be married, and claims this is out of love for their cousins, but this is just really a ploy to royally piss off gareth by taking his other child away from his household (something they already did to louis), and therese is um. well she's very angry and upset about this, which louis (and no one else, except for her father ofc) doesn't realize until the day of her wedding when he's getting her ready. she doesn't want to leave her father and summerhead, she wants to devote her life to the Goddess instead of some random husband, and she, like the rest of the floriens incl louis feels very humiliated and cheated by the way she's being treated when she has the right to the throne, when she and co should be in charge....this surprises louis because. he didnt know other people had feelings. also at some point therese wants to ask charicle to marry her instead because he's very religious as well and he's gay so neither of them would have pressure to feel love for the other, but louis tells her to not do that by saying oh well he's half western you're a florien almost-princess which convinces her to not do that

anyways she does get married to this guy, and has a kid (eventually), but continues to constantly visit her own family and gareth dies of like. natural causes or whatever (also stress because of louis being a cunt asshole or whatever and therese leaving him and colonizer guilt and a bad leg infection and honestly the man had a lot going on tbh) which really really bums her out, louis also yells at her because again, poorly hidden resentment over his father's preferential treatment of her which makes her even more upset

also later on when the king is dying she tries to pray for him at his bedside but the queen, who again, does not like the floriens, gets mad, calls her a witch and devil or whatever whos killing him, tries to beat her etc, and finally therese has had it she's HAD it and her big joker breaking point moment is. throwing a shoe at the queen and calling her a 'very godless lady'

anyways later later after aeetes (yeah remember him) kills prince edouard, who was about to be crowned king, and the west, galvanized by the south breaking off and the death of the Sort of King, breaks off as well and starts waging war against the northern forces, the remaining northern lords are like. well shit. whos going to be in charge. maybe the floriens again? but..... louis has already ran off chasing after the deserter kidlat (and unbeknownst to everyone, has died in a tragic mysterious Axe Murder Accident) so the crown goes to...you guessed it....therese! anyways she's crowned, only of the north, which is the only nation the crown has juristiction over at this point, but when the southern and ko'bi forces annihilate the remainder of the loyal northern knights (many northern families have tried to start their own factions to try to reconquer the continent, even fighting each other..this is not working) and move up to take the throne a couple days afterward, her deep fear that she's always carried with her leads to her immediately forfeiting the crown and running away....

i wrote a little something from her perspective on her coronation, basically she believes that the goddess has put this in her hands for a reason, she believes and knows she's truly the heir to the great florien kings and queens, she's apathetic towards the (supposed) death of her brother because um. the way he treated her for all of her life, though she does feel a great emptiness now that he's gone, she wishes her mother and father were there to see her, but there's always that. undercurrent of anxiety and uncertainty she's always had. so you can kind of see what she eventually does coming from a mile away

#finny.txt #asks #ocs

[voidwaren]

hey guys, pandemic brain is a bitch so this week we have the first 6k words of an ENTIRELY self-indulgent Sterek royalty AU that was originally an outline for a profic before I went, “you know what. fuck that. make it fanfic.” and did so.

may or may not be what I’ll be working on for NaNoWriMo this year, since I’ve never done fanfic before and have also never once won.

also: ignore the fact this basically starts off in exactly the same formula as Oak and Mistletoe. I am a one-trick pony. yeehaw.

Stiles met him on a balcony bathed in moonlight, shedding glitter and confetti and the half-melted snowflakes that made their slow descent from the sky above, and he realized—before he’d even opened his mouth, before the man had even noticed Stiles was there—that he’d do anything to meet this man again.

-

The night was alive with the sounds of a party. Lights of every color, food from every land spilling from the kitchens on glittering trays, people laughing and dancing and forgetting their own names beneath the pull of one too many glasses of pearlescent sparkling wine. It was a night of excitement, of merriment and of occasional debauchery. And it was a night Stiles wished he could skip.

Crown Prince Stiles hated parties.

It wasn’t the people he hated. Not the music or the merriment or even the dances he spent months learning properly before each event to make sure he knew all the steps and didn’t trip over himself in front of a hundred or more people. It certainly wasn't the lavish spreads of food that Stiles had made himself sick over many a party before, because that was the best part.

No, the thing Stiles hated about parties was the fact he always had to act like someone he wasn’t. It was the fact he had to dress up in clothes that restricted his movements, the fact he had to waltz around a room with a woman or man whose title he couldn’t care less about and try his best to keep them entertained, the fact he had to act like the proper son of the ruling monarch of the kingdom trussed up like the very same kind of people he used to swear he’d never become, powdered nose and everything. All because of a position he was born into and a title he had no choice but to inherit when the time came. It made him feel like a liar. It made him feel like a fraud, even as he walked around as the person people expected him to be.

Stiles hated everything about it.

It wasn’t like this a few years ago. Hell, a few years ago Stiles had been the picture of mischief among the court, causing all sorts of trouble during the balls and the weddings and the town celebrations, to the point where people came looking for him in the thick of it all asking for him to take them away before they drowned under the pressure of the titles they never asked to bear. And Stiles would do so willingly, easily, taking their hand and leading them on great moonlit adventures through the castle and along the streets of the city in the dead of the night, with nothing but the stars and the creatures of the night to guide them back home at the end of it all.

A few years ago, Stiles had been exactly what he wanted to be—untethered, wild, and uncaring of who would see. He’d been happy, carefree, and so very much alive.

Then his mother had died of an illness that ravaged the city, and reality had come crashing down around his ears. He was the only child of an aging king who refused to separate himself from his people even for the good of his health, and he had to start acting like it.

And, so, he did. The Stiles he had been died with his mother, and there had never been a reason to bring him back to life again.

He was miserable because of it, even as he nipped a chocolate-covered strawberry off a passing tray on its way into the ballroom and stuffed it into his mouth, shedding chocolate all over the carpet below.

“If you get that on your suit, we’ll have a murder on our hands come morning,” a grave voice said from Stiles’ left, and Stiles startled hard enough to nearly rip the curtain he was hiding behind from where it hung.

“Lydia,” he said around the half-chewed strawberry still in his mouth. The woman in question glared at him, then reached out and dusted the shoulder of his red and black party coat. Stiles quickly swallowed. “You’re supposed to be in the ballroom already.”

“I was on my way there when I found your mask” —she paused only long enough to hold the mask in question up in the same hand she already held hers in— “sitting outside your quarters, still in the wrapping paper, and realized I was going to have to find you first.” She narrowed her eyes, and her gold-dusted eyelids sparkled with the movement. “You weren’t planning on hiding all night, were you?”

“No,” Stiles said immediately, sounding about as unconvincing as one possibly could. He winced.

“It’s Scott’s birthday, Stiles. You can’t be a no-show at your best friend’s twentieth birthday party!”

“Sure I can,” Stiles grumbled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Lydia actually cringed, then whipped a handkerchief from her decolletage with her free hand and started scrubbing his skin of potential chocolate remnants. Stiles allowed her, if only because he knew fighting it would be futile. “It’s his birthday, no one will notice if I happen to not show up.”

Lydia didn’t deign that with an answer. A smart decision on her part, because even Stiles was fully aware he couldn’t not show up to a party being held in his own castle, regardless of who the party was for. It was just plain rude. Someone would definitely notice, and then his name would be in the papers for weeks afterwards, and not for any reason the king could be proud of. Not to mention Scott himself would probably be put out.

“Two hours,” she said instead. “Just two hours. That should be more than enough for everyone to see you and try to worm a dance out of you. Then you can go back to lurking behind the drapery and stealing food. I won’t even make you sign any dance cards.”

“One hour,” Stiles tried to bargain, but that was quickly shut down with nothing more than a raised eyebrow on Lydia’s part. Honestly, who here was the prince and who was the duchess? Because, somehow, Lydia always seemed to outrank him despite reality being otherwise.

“Enjoy yourself,” Lydia said firmly, handing over his mask, and then she vanished in a swirl of shimmering pink skirts and golden lace. Stiles looked down at the mask and had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. He wasn’t surprised—what else would he have been? —but predictable was never a good look on Lydia.

Tonight, Stiles wore the face of a fox.

Not a traditional fox, mind you. That was for the lower ranking individuals currently fawning around in their heavily-decorated clothes and overly-perfumed hair. No, Stiles wore the face of a black fox marked with streaks of red around the ears and muzzle. A unique design, with his sigil hidden in the swirls of fur at the forehead, of a creature people still associated the prince with even years after he stopped acting like one.

Stiles kind of hated how much he liked the damn thing.

“Dammit,” he muttered to himself as he disentangled his limbs from the drapery and emerged into the hallway that led into the ballroom. The guards standing on either side of the entrance watched him, one with an apologetic look on her face. He’d asked them not to say anything with a finger to his lips when he’d first dove behind the heavy fabrics, but Lydia had found him anyway. Using a quick hand gesture, he told them he knew it wasn’t their fault, and the apologetic guard relaxed. The other simply continued watching him.

And with a great sigh, Stiles slipped the mask on and tied the red ribbons tight, then walked through the doors into the throngs of people hidden behind the face of every animal imaginable.

The center of the room was a swirling mass of innumerable colors, all twinkling under the glow of the countless lights with both the glitter most chose to wear to costume parties such as this and the sparkling confetti that floated down from the rafters, spreading itself to every corner of the room and deep into the clothing folds of every patron beneath it. Fast-paced music threaded through the air, mixed with chatter, laughter, and the occasional singing voice as Stiles passed through the layers of people and tried to find the man of the hour. He hadn’t seen Scott since that morning at breakfast before they’d both been whisked away to get ready for the party, and, as a long-standing tradition from when they were young, Stiles owed the birthday boy the worst dance he could possibly have of the night. Stiles was ready to scuff some brand new leather shoes, pop a few buttons straight from their silk-lined waistcoats, and then hide from Lydia’s wrath for the rest of the night.

But Scott was nowhere to be found.

Not willing to drop the hunt so readily, Stiles nestled himself into a corner between two of the food tables—one filled with a rainbow of pastries that Stiles made a mental note to ravish later, the other a sea’s worth of crustaceans and fish and other unnamable things, some of which still gurgled in their shells—and tried to remember what it was Scott was wearing that night. Stiles hadn’t been present for the arrival announcement of the visiting crown prince, too busy sneaking around the curtains just outside the room, but he’d heard it happen, so he knew Scott was already there. He also knew Scott’s preferences when it came to his clothing, so a wolf mask was the key point in Stiles’ search. The only problem was: a wolf was a very common mask choice, and Stiles didn’t know what about Scott’s would be the aspect to set him apart.

A crown, possibly? Scott typically hated wearing his crown to parties, claiming it was difficult to dance when he spent a large amount of time worrying it would slip from his head and embarrass him, so that was probably out of the ruling, unless it was etched directly into the mask itself.

His sigil? Would it be that easy to see a double circle, likely hidden somewhere within the design of the mask itself, without staring the mask-wearer directly in the face? Would Stiles have to dance with every wolf-faced masculine figure just to find the person he was looking for?

His eyes scanned the crowds again, and he felt his gall slowly seep down to his toes. There were dozens of masks even vaguely resembling what could be a wolf—Stiles would be there all night.

He suddenly wished he had thought to ask Lydia before she’d left, assuming she’d even tell him in the first place. She probably thought keeping him on the blind hunt would make him stay at the party longer.

God, he really didn’t want to be there. It might have been a birthday party for his oldest and greatest friend, but it was never fun for him unless he could cause a little trouble.

Nabbing a flute or something pink and bubbly from a tray to his right, Stiles downed the thing in one gulp, stifled the consequential belch that tried to force its way back up his throat, and meandered his way to the other side of the room. Still, there was not a Scott to be seen. There was a Jackson, though, loitering by the unmistakable figures of Stiles’ father and Queen Melissa of their sisterlands, Scott’s mother, dancing together in place on the direct outskirts of the fanfare. Setting his empty glass aside, Stiles locked in on his sights and crept his way over.

Years of sneaking around the castle and poking his nose exactly where it didn’t belong meant Stiles had a relatively good track record of getting to the place he wanted to be without being seen, even in plain sight, and not even Jackson, who had technically been trained specifically with Stiles in mind after growing up as a page under King John’s reign, noticed Stiles sneaking up on him until Stiles was pulling the ribbons of Jackson’s dragon mask free.

Jackson started with a hissed curse, his hand flying up to keep the mask on his face, and in the same motion reached behind him and grabbed Stiles by the upper arm with his free hand.

“Your Grace,” he growled in his Jackson way, loud enough to be heard by Stiles’ dad and his not-a-date-just-a-frequent-guest. Luckily for Stiles, they seemed distracted enough in each other not to notice just yet.

“I’ll put it back on properly if you come with me.” Using the grip Jackson had on him, Stiles quickly maneuvered the both of them back into the shadows of the ballroom before Jackson could give much of an answer. Once safely out of view of the parents, Stiles smacked Jackson’s hand off and motioned for him to turn around.

“What was that all about?” Jackson asked as he complied. There was a note of bitterness to his tone, but that was Jackson for you. Growing up, he’d never been Stiles’ biggest fan, especially not when Stiles’ crush on Lydia had become painfully obvious to everyone who so much as looked his way, but he’d softened to Stiles as a whole after the loss of Queen Claudia when they both were sixteen. Having been the one with Stiles when the news broke, first with the onset of the illness and then her eventual death, he’d been one of the few people to see firsthand just how much a person like Stiles could break, and Stiles was pretty sure Jackson never recovered his full dislike of the crown prince in question after it all had been said and done.

Plus, Jackson had been the one to win Lydia over when they were eighteen, and, while the relationship hadn’t lasted, it had also helped to lessen some of the sour feelings on his end.

Stiles didn’t answer immediately as he tied the ribbons tight, then patted Jackson on the shoulder to signal he was done. “I can’t find Scott,” Stiles explained. “I also don’t really want to be here.”

Jackson scoffed. “Yeah, and what else is new? How long did Lydia tell you to stay this time?”

“Two hours,” Stiles admitted sourly. Jackson laughed. “I was hoping you could cover for me if I happened to suddenly vanish from the party?” he tried hopefully, doing his best to make his eyes look puppy-dog-like behind the confines of his mask.

“Hell no,” Jackson said without missing a beat, then quickly tacked on, “Your Majesty.”

“Come on, Jackson! Please? I’ll come back, I just want to go somewhere else for a little while.”

“And have Lydia breathing down my back for allowing it? I don’t think so.”

“I could order you to, you are my personal guard,” Stiles pointed out, but Jackson just looked at him in that way that told Stiles he was raising a single eyebrow behind his mask. Stiles sighed dramatically. “What’s the point of the title if no one listens to me anyway?”

“Plenty of people listen to you,” Jackson corrected, smacking a hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “Just not me, and especially not tonight. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I see a fine looking set of specimens waiting for a man such as me to show them how a real dance is done. Have fun finding Scott.”

Stiles made sure his responding scoff was accurately disgusted as Jackson turned and walked off to meet a pair of identical figures in the crowd, one of which Stiles distinctly recalled writing his name on Lydia’s dance card a few parties ago, leaving Stiles glowering to himself alone. Stiles debated marching up and inserting himself into the situation just to be an ass, but quickly rethought the action before he could execute it and get himself stuck in a conversation he didn’t actually want to have.

“May I have this dance?” a voice asked before Stiles could find his way back to the dead fringes of the party instead, and Stiles turned to find Allison smirking at him from behind an owl mask. A quick glance around told him Scott was not with her, and if Scott wasn’t glued to her side like he normally was, that meant he was being forced to dance with some of the other partygoers who had shown up specifically with Scott in mind. Which meant Stiles was certainly not going to see him anytime soon, unless he wanted whoever Scott was dancing with being passed off to him the second Scott spotted him without a partner.

“Absolutely,” Stiles agreed, holding his hand out for Allison to take. She smiled brilliantly as she took his hand in her white-gloved one, and off to the dance floor they went.

Allison was, by far, a much better dancer than Stiles was. Only surpassed by Lydia (and only in some dances, at that), she was swift in every movement and seemed to almost float around the dance floor, even in a dress that looked heavier than she was, made of layers upon layers of feathers and fabric with names Stiles couldn’t guess if he tried. She looked like she belonged in her creature of choice, elegant and deadly if she chose, if the legend of her familial background was to be believed. Beast hunters up until a settlement dozens and dozens of generations back, Stiles typically chose to not believe, but he had seen Allison shoot an arrow straight through an apple exactly as Jackson was taking a bite out of it without doing much more than scaring the shit out of him, so maybe it wasn’t all a myth.

Allison’s bright brown eyes met his as the song changed pace suddenly, picking up to an even faster rhythm, and he only just caught the twinkle in her eye before her hand tightened in his and she took him over completely.

She was so much a better dancer than Stiles (and Scott, though Scott rarely surpassed anyone’s dance skill, so he often wasn’t counted in the first place), that every time Stiles did dance with her, she always somehow managed to lead him without ever taking the position to do so. And she did so by using a pressure method via her fingertips against his shoulder and hand, where her hands were positioned. It had taken Stiles a number of dances to catch onto her antics when she started coming to other courts and stayed for parties, and then a few years on top of that to perfect his understanding of her puppeteering, but he was to the point now where he unconsciously moved in time with her ministrations and didn’t even have to pay them any attention. It made her the easiest person for him to dance with, and he actually kind of hated how much time Scott got to spend dancing with her at these things if only because Stiles rarely got a break where he could dance and not have to constantly make sure he wasn’t about to flatten someone’s toes.

(But they were promised to one another, declared by Scott one day when he was sixteen that he would take her hand when she came of age at twenty-one, so Stiles couldn’t complain as much as he would like. They were four years into their seemingly-never-ending honeymoon period, so they kind of deserved each other at this point.)

“After this song ends,” Allison whispered in his ear as they pulled close and turned, “head for the balconies. I’ll cover for you if anyone asks where you went.”

It took Stiles an embarrassingly long moment to understand that she was giving him an out to escape, at least for a little bit. He couldn’t get much of anywhere by going to the balconies, unless he wanted to climb onto the rooftops or get lost in the gardens before returning to the party again, but it was something.

“I could kiss you,” Stiles replied giddily. Allison flashed him a wide smile.

“I appreciate that you could and yet would never,” she responded sweetly, and Stiles couldn’t help but give a genuine laugh. Friends was all they’d ever be, and neither of them had ever cared to make their relationship anything more. Allison was a fantastic friend. Stiles was lucky to have her, and Scott was luckier still to be promised to her.

True to her word, Allison pulled them close for the closing bow as the orchestra played the last note of the dance, then twisted on her heel and pushed Stiles smoothly in the direction of the doors to the garden balconies in the back before he’d even thought to take the step himself. Stiles, far less graceful even than any singular part of Allison on its own, stumbled a bit as he was thrown into motion, but caught himself quickly and hurried his way over to the doors. He thought he heard his name being called faintly over the sound of the next series of dances starting up, but he ignored it and continued on, twisting around each group of attendees as he met them and hopefully not treading on too many dresses and exposed shoe points as he went.

His mask felt hot against his face, the painted leather slipping along his nose as the heat of the room started to feel unbearably stifling, and the second he broke over the threshold of the opened double doors his fingers were already up and pulling at the ribbons that held it in place. It slid down easily, and he tucked it neatly under his arm as he moved into the shadows of the romantically-lit area and found his way to his favorite foothold, hidden by a large ivy growth, that he’d gone to so many times before. The climb required no thinking on his part; he pulled himself up easily in practiced motions that would give his father a headache if he knew. The gardens below stretched beneath him until, finally, he’d found his favorite haunt.

The autumn air was cold on Stiles’ face when he twisted himself up and onto one of the balcony alcoves, and a fine layer of snow was starting to make its way down from the gloomy sky above. Once used for lookouts, archers, and other war-related things, the alcove Stiles had found his way to was connected to a heavily-locked and incredibly dusty war room that had not seen use in centuries, nevermind Stiles’ lifetime, and was now used solely for decoration. Stiles, personally, liked to use it to stare down at the town, as it overlooked the edge of the cliff face that the castle was built into. He never understood why his father didn’t just move the war room and let Stiles have it as his own, but he had a feeling it was precisely because of Stiles’ love for a balcony that he could easily fall to his death from that his father had said no enough times for Stiles, who rarely gave up on anything, to finally let it go. Yet another reason to never let his father know he often scaled his way along the other balconies from his room to get there in the first place.

As it was a balcony alcove to a room that was never used, there was only ever Stiles who occupied it. So, to say he was startled nearly out of his skin when another figure emerged from the shadows of the alcove’s corner would be to put it incredibly lightly.

In fact—Stiles had very nearly screamed. He definitely let out a very unmasculine noise, though he would never admit to the fact if questioned about it at a later point in time. Unfortunately for him, that would be the thing to alert the other figure to his presence in the first place. Which was a shame, he would later think when he ran this encounter through his head over and over again like the action could bring a kind clarity the memory of the event itself simply did not have, because, for the split seconds before Stiles had made his presence known, the man had looked perfect where he stood in the shadows, and Stiles had been immediately infatuated with the sight of him.

But, of course, Stiles could not have nice things, and it was usually because of his mouth. Now was not an exception to the matter.

Stiles let out his noise, and the man startled out of the shadows and into the moonlight like he was expecting a fight. Stiles, though trained to defend himself if need be, did nothing more than scramble back on shoes that slipped dangerously on the snow-slicked stone beneath their feet. The man stopped abruptly, his eyes darting from Stiles’ face, down to his clothing, and back up again. And then, all at once, he relaxed completely, looking strangely put out that it was clear Stiles was not here to fight him. With a sigh that sounded suspiciously disappointed, the man in question turned his face away briefly as if expecting someone else, and that was when Stiles got his first good look at his surprise guest.

He noticed the ear cuff first, flashing in the light of the moon. Made of some kind of golden metal, it sat on the whole curve of his outer ear, nearly obscuring the ear itself completely. It flashed again as the man turned his face back, his features pulled into a completely different expression than they had been in just before, and Stiles found himself staring directly into a pair of cloudy green eyes.

Stiles had no idea who this man was, but he found that he desperately wanted to know. It was like a tugging sensation from somewhere behind his heart.

Silence stretched between them as neither moved, marred only by the faint noises of the party down below, and then Stiles realized something.

Whoever this man was, he wasn’t dressed for the party. Except for the golden cuff he wore on his ear and the thin gold chain around his neck that disappeared into his shirt, he was free of flashy adornments and heavy finery usually worn to parties such as the one being held tonight. In fact, he seemed rather underdressed considering the weather, in nothing but dark pants, a shirt, and a deep red waistcoat hanging undone from his torso. His moonlight-washed hair was unstyled, hanging around his face in that way Stiles’ hair also did when he ran his fingers through it at the end of the night after he’d washed all the grease from it. The man had either attended the party and left immediately, or he hadn’t gone at all.

He seemed just as surprised to see Stiles on that balcony as Stiles was him, too, his eyes drifting slowly down to the mask Stiles held clutched in both hands and narrowing. It made Stiles want to hide the thing behind his back, like he’d just been caught doing something wrong.

“It was hot inside,” he explained quickly, then had to refrain from slapping his hand over his mouth for saying anything at all. He wasn’t sure where the knee-jerk reaction to explain himself had come from exactly, because this was his homeland, and he was the prince of it. Whoever this man was, he didn’t rank above Stiles on his own turf.

And yet, here he was, feeling an ever-increasing need to keep the strange man standing before him, completely underdressed for the snow that was falling around them, from thinking Stiles was weird for being on the roof when a party was happening elsewhere.

Unsure of his actions, Stiles looked away, directing his gaze over the curb of the stone railing. The town below lit up with lights strung from rooftops and streetlights, a sign of the upcoming festival to celebrate the arrival of harvest season, where there would be markets every night and dancing in the squares, with the largest celebration with a potluck at the very end. Scott always had the best birthday out of all of them, because it kicked off the season, taking place what was usually just a few days before the town celebrations started. He’d have a big party, and then he’d continue to celebrate with the townsfolk of both his land and Stiles’, as they were sisterlands and shared the same traditions. Stiles, having been born in the spring, didn’t get to have quite the same experience.

“Do they know you’re gone?” the man asked quietly, his voice nothing like Stiles was expecting from looks alone. Stiles turned his attention back embarrassingly fast all the same.

“Do they…?” he repeated in confusion before he realized what the man was talking about. “Oh! Oh, no. I mean, probably? Someone’s likely noticed. But I don’t think they’re paying attention to where I am, really. It’s not my birthday.”

Shut up, Stiles, Stiles thought frantically. Lord, please, shut up.

The man’s brow furrowed. Stiles took the moment to admire his eyebrows, which were well-suited for his face. Stiles was pretty sure the man could hold conversations with them, if he tried. He could absolutely look menacing, with just the right expression. Stiles knew he could find himself easily terrified of this man. He just had that look about him.

And then, as Stiles was admiring, it occurred to him that he’d never seen this person before in his life, despite him standing right on the rooftop of where Stiles lived. Which, considering who Stiles was, shouldn’t be possible.

How had he never met this person before? Did he climb onto the roof from below? How did he get past the guards?

“Why aren’t you at the party?” Stiles blurted out before he could stop himself, then winced. Strike two. What was wrong with him? He hadn’t had that much to drink, had he?

The man eyed him warily, then seemed to come to some kind of a conclusion and sighed. “You have no idea who I am.”

Stiles frowned in turn. “Should I?”

He looked thoughtful for a moment, the moonlight washing his features out until he looked nearly a ghost, those cloudy green eyes narrowed. “No,” he said finally. “I guess you shouldn’t.”

Stiles opened his mouth to ask the obvious question, then, miracle of all miracles, thought better of the action and shut it again. Surprise flashed in the man’s eyes, and Stiles could swear the corner of the man’s mouth quirked up, but he knew he had to have imagined it. Because the man’s mouth seemed permanently set in a frown. He hadn’t smiled once, and he had a very strong frown. The man turned his face away again, but Stiles couldn’t stop looking at him.

The moonlight caught off the ear cuff as he turned again, catching Stiles’ attention easily and giving him a better view of its overall shape. Covering the entire curve of his outer ear, the cuff the man wore was shaped like a curling line of crescents and circles in a pattern that tickled some vague part of the back of Stiles’ brain without any true recognition to show for the efforts. He’d seen the exact pattern before, he was sure of it, but he couldn’t place where or when, or what kind of meaning it could hold. It was a curious design, all the same, with smaller chains of gold hanging in loops from the bottom, some kind of bead or gemstone nestled in each center. The entire thing was also, Stiles noticed, studded with the same kind of gemstone that glinted with the light, though the strong tint of the oncoming full moon made everything seem too washed out to really tell any true color.

It was a strange thing to see, even on a night like this. Ear cuffs were found in other lands, but ear jewelry didn’t often extend beyond earrings in Stiles’ land. In fact, adornments in general usually came in the form of necklaces, rings, and makeup and rarely extended beyond that, and Stiles had never thought to question the reason why something so obviously stunning had never become popular in his, or Scott’s, realm. Even Allison’s kingdom, known famously for their silver jewelry and intricate designs, did not show any favor towards such specific things.

Until now, apparently, because Stiles couldn’t think of where else the man could have climbed up to the alcove from if not the party or the town. Though, if something like that was becoming popular, Stiles felt like he would have heard Lydia talking about it at some point. It was very possible she had and he’d simply not listened, however. Stiles’ attention was a fickle thing.

“Are you from town?” Stiles heard himself ask. He was starting to understand why his dad winced each time Stiles opened his mouth, because, right now, he’d soder the damn thing shut if he only had the chance. “Did you climb up here from the streets?”

A soft huffing sound met his unfortunate inquiry, and it took Stiles a moment to realize the man had just laughed.

“No,” he replied quietly, eyes still on the town in question. “I came from inside the castle.”

That stumped Stiles. So he… had come from the party? How had he gotten himself in such disarray? Stiles might not have been paying the best attention to the comings and goings of the event, especially considering the size of the attendance, but he’s pretty sure he would have heard someone say something if someone had shown up in the state the man was in. He stuck out like a sore thumb.

Unless he’d gained his current state somewhere between the party and the balcony, which meant he must have done something relatively quick to become that way.

Stiles felt a heat crawl up his neck, swift and relentless, as an idea of what the man might have done occurred to him. The war room was empty and supposedly locked at all times because of its disuse, but Stiles had never actually bothered to check that. At least, not since he’d learned to climb to the balcony instead of going through the room itself, and that had been years ago.

Quickly, Stiles walked over to the large double doors that connected the balcony to the room and wrapped his hand around one of the huge handles. It barely budged an inch beneath the pressure he exerted on it, and even less when he tried with his weight added onto the attempt.

Locked. Absolutely, undeniably locked.

Stiles twisted back around. The man was watching him again, those eyebrows drawn together in bewilderment. He still stood at the railing, not having moved an inch except to face where Stiles now stood. Very rarely did Stiles feel any kind of embarrassment for his actions, but something about this man and his strangeness kept the embarrassment coming in waves. Stiles prayed his face, definitely red at this point due to the man’s reaction, couldn’t be seen too well in the dark of the small overhang of the doorway.

“How did you get up here?” Stiles demanded hotly. He thrust a finger at the door handles. “These are locked.”

And, to Stiles’ utter shock, the man actually smiled.

It was by no means sunny, and maybe not even a true smile, but his lips were undoubtedly pulled back from his teeth in at least a smirk. “As you suggested before,” he said simply. “I climbed.”

“From—where?” Stiles spluttered. “Who are you?”

Instead of answering, the man merely tilted his head as if pondering Stiles’ question. He met Stiles’ eyes again, rendering Stiles slightly more dumb than usual with their strange color, and then, in one fluid motion, he bent at the waist in a bow.

“Thank you for your time, Your Majesty,” the man said, taking one last glance up from beneath his lashes to meet Stiles’ eyes.

And then he backed up, turned the same corner he’d emerged from, and was gone.

Stiles watched the empty air for a shocked heartbeat. One quickly became two, then three, and then he was tripping over himself as he launched at the space the man had left behind in a desperate scramble to catch up. Unfortunately, his shoes, more equipped for dancing than any other kind of foot movement, slipped on the slick stone floor and he went sprawling instead, knocking his chin hard enough to rattle his teeth and stun him momentarily. His mask went flying, smacking against the ground and skidding a few feet away.

Stiles groaned as he hauled himself up again, clawing his way to the side of the balcony railing where the man must have left, only to remember, with a shock, that this was the side that met the cliff face. There was no way down but a sheer drop to the rocks below.

A white noise started up between Stiles’ ears as he stared down the drop, the disappearance and the lack of a body below not adding up in his brain. A cold wind blew past briefly, rustling his stiff collar against his cheeks and bringing him back to himself enough for him to twist at the waist and look directly up. The action brought no more clarity than the previous one had, and the cold feeling of dread started up in the pit of Stiles’ stomach.

The man was gone. Completely, utterly gone.

#I somehow already have 12k written for this #and I'm not done #Sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #royalty AU #WIP Wednesday #work in progress wednesday

[andoqin]

K-Dramas of 2020

Well, like the general mood of 2020, the dramas this year were uh, certainly an adventure. I was going to put all the dramas I watched this year here, but uh. This turned out longer than expected so I’ll guess I’ll separate K-dramas at the very least.

Putting this behind a cut because Long.

Completed:

365: Repeat the year: I barely remember this one, but I gave it 8/10 on MDL, maybe I should lower that, because honestly all I remember are the time-travel meet up set and the main actors.

CHIP-IN: A short who-dunnit, which has interesting characters, although the show was very wise to be capped at 8 Episodes, because the “mystery” was pretty predictable and also starting to wear thin. Still, the younger cast was stellar and I hope we get to see them in more.

Diary of a Prosecutor: The cases in this drama were actually legit interesting to me and I found the politicking surprisingly not bad. People were flawed in very human ways, but the drama gave us enough time with our main characters to enjoy getting to know all of them.

Do you like Brahms: Contender for worst drama of the year for me, good lord I hated the way this tanked its story line, its characters and the romance. Is it believable that the main characters might act this way? ... Debatable. Is it entertaining to watch? Hell fucking no. Don’t watch this one, unless you like stupid misunderstandings and non communication. 

Extracurricular: Short action-y show on Netflix that makes me hopeful for what Sweet Home might be. 

Flower of Evil: Lee Jun Ki gets to suffer prettily. That is All. Okay Moon Chae Won and LJK were great together, but it got almost makjang-y by the end. 

Hospital Playlist: Delightful Slice of Life Medical show, that despite its delightfulness never quite got me. Very enjoyable and at 12 episodes it doesn’t overstay its welcome, but it didn’t stay with me either. 

Hot Stove League: Pretty entertaining and as a drama about sports management seems reasonably accurate? (Not that I’d know of course). 

Hyena: Flawed as heck in some aspects (the lawyer-plotting got lulzy and boring at the same time), but oh my god some of the HOTTEST chemistry this way from sunday. Joo Ji Hoon and Kim Hye Soo just crackled anytime they were on screen together and Joo Ji Hoon as the high powered lawyer who falls head over heels in love with KHS’s character who is more reluctant to act on those feelings is just *chefs kiss*. Also didn’t suffer the Dreaded Plot Denuement of 2020 (DPD2020). Sure the latter half wasn’t as tight as the beginning, but it stuck the landing and that’s all that matters. 

Into the Ring: Weird camera angles and sometimes overly sharp edited shots aside, this had a solid romance, great characters, great romance and almost made me want to get into community politics lmao. 

It’s Okay Not To Be Okay (Psycho But It’s Okay): The first half of this show is just *amazing*, the way the scenes transition is pretty much film-like and the main character trio is stunningly well acted. Sadly the story with the mom is resolved in the weirdest fucking way, but the drama decides to do the smart thing and just forget about it once that’s done and the finale made me cry ;_;. 

Itaewon Class: Sadly also suffered the DPD2020. I was really into the first half, loved the way the characters found support in each other, plus: a main trans character! Handled really well! Also iconic OST. I was one of the few people who was into the romance of the main couple, but the way the latter half of the plot developed was just completely nonsensical and felt like the writer was just trying to tie off the lose ends as much as possible. 

Kingdom Season 2: The first season was stellar and this continues the trend! Although it doesn’t quite reach the highs of the first season I am still so looking forward to season 3! More Joseon zombies please!

Money Game: I... apparently watched this, and looking at the logo there is some vague feeling of “Yeah this is familiar”. But nothing else...

Mr. Heart: Okay-ish BL drama that has it’s cute moments but nothing that made me go “Ooooh”. I am glad SK is getting in on this trend though!

My Holo Love: So all of those Robot/AI shows that came before that I’ve seen and had the premise of “Oh no, I’ve fallen for a ROBOT” when it either turned out their object of affection was either human or actually a robot, but their human counterpart was so shitty that no sane person would like them worked pretty well for me. This one didn’t. From what I remember the heroine does very much fall for the holographic version of this guy, but the human version is *different* and yet whoops the main couple is still human/human. Granted you can’t really do romantic kiss scenes between a girl and nothing, but the switch-over felt abrupt and the way our main lady just transfers her affections to the dude never sat right to me. 

Mystic Pop Up Bar: Quite a few dramas this year went with 12 eps, and were all the better for it. Hwang Jung Eum is incredibly hit or miss with me (mostly it’s miss honestly), but in this one she’s used really well and I liked the way the premise was used!

Private Lives: I recently wrote a longer post about this, but honestly another victim of terrible writing and maybe DPD2020. 

Stranger 2: Love! Not as much as Season 1, but man this writer is *so* good at writing smart and interesting plots and looking at things from many different angles!

Tale of the Nine Tailed: Flawed but man do I ever love the OTP. Like really really love it. Plus it stuck the landing for me in a way few dramas did in recent months.

The School Nurse Files: So weird. So fucking weird. And yet, so very entertaining. Thanks to its short length ( I think) some plot threads felt very much unceremoniously dropped, but it has a canon lesbian couple!

The World of the Married: Makjang to the Nth degree, got kind of exhausting by the end, but Kim Hee Ae is so good. 

Train: Yoon Shi Yoon gets to suffer prettily! 

When the Weather is Fine: Kinda mellow and sweet and I wish I could live like the main character does (just have a bookshop in the middle of nowhere and still no money issues??? The Dream) but for that also not super memorable. 

Where Your Eyes Linger: SK’s first major Webdrama I believe? Cute and as a foray into this genre not bad, but I hope this is just a taste of things to come.

Dropped:

Hi Bye, Mama: So many people loved this, I couldn’t get over the basic premise and the way my brain tried to tie the logic in this together made my head hurt.  The King: Eternal Monarch: Maybe KES dramas just aren’t for me, I didn’t like the plot or the main couple. Woo Do Hwan and Kim Kyung Nam were amazing though and please please I beg both of you do more stuff. 

18 Again: Nope. Lee Do Hyun is pretty, but the setup drove me bonkers and I pretty much liked no one. 

Zombie Detective: Yikes no thank you. Complete mismatch of tones I wanted and the drama gave me. 

Romantic Teacher Dr. Kim 2: Zzzzzzzzz. I found the first one mildly entertaining at least but this one just made me fall asleep immediately. 

Black Dog: Yeah I watched like 2 Episodes of this and lost interest. 

Search: I’ve watched like 6 eps and I know there’s zombies, but I couldn’t tell you much more tbh.

Start-Up: I watched 2 episodes in the beginning, didn’t think I’d want to live watch this and then just popcorned the tag until it got insufferable with the ship wars and this dropped out of my watch list pretty immediately.

Record of Youth: Pretty much the same deal as with Start-Up only in this case there wasn’t so much a shipwar as the tag showing me that this drama would *not* be my bag at all. 

Still Watching: 

Kairos: Hmmmm timey-wimey stuff. The FL is this close to losing me though. The fact I thought it plausible that she would murder someone just based on a TEXT from someone else says it all. (She didn’t, thank god, and seems to have found a few of her lost braincells, but by god she was frustrating). 

Birthcare Center: I like what it’s trying to say and the main character and her husband are very cute, but a lot of the side characters don’t really interest me. It’s only an 8 ep drama, so I might finish this.

The Spies Who Loved Me: Honestly I’m this close to dropping it. Only my intense love for Yoo In Na and fondness for Eric are keeping me going. But she might not end up with Eric and I’m gonna be mad. Honestly if they just went OT3 I’d be really cool with this, but despite the small advancements in dramaland, they aint ready for that yet. 

Lies of Lies: I watched 2 eps and I might continue (the premise seems hilariously makjang and sometimes I’m into that, but it’s *very* much on the backburner)

The Uncanny Counter: Delightful Webtoon vibe, with some great visuals and actually nice action. I’ve only seen 2 eps so far but at least they don’t want to make me poke my eyes out or make me fall asleep. Let’s hope it avoids the DPD2020 plague. 

#365: repeat the year #tvn start up #kairos #birthcare center #the spies who loved me #lies of lies #the uncanny counter #record of youth #romantic teacher dr. kim 2 #zombie detective #18 again #black dog #ocn search #hi bye mama #ocn train #the king eternal monarch #the tale of the nine tailed #stranger 2 #private lives #mystic pop up bar #chip-in #diary of a prosecutor #do you like brahms #extracurricular #flower of evil #hospital playlist #the school nurse files #when the weather is fine #where your eyes linger #my holo love

[prolongingtheprologue]

Concerning Bycatch by Kathrine Snow Ch. 15 - Penny Drop

In which King Boo has officially had it.

Index

(click the source to read on the Porlonging the Prologue blog! for links to Ao3 and Fanfiction.net, visit the index.)

------

      It was his genuine pleasure to hear the old man scream. King boo rose from the grate, eyes aglow with anticipation, then he froze as he saw a very different person backpedaling across the room. His grin grew wider.  

      “Well, look who finally arrived,” he drolled. “I had begun to think you weren’t coming.”

       The courtyard group watched with exhausted satisfaction as Boolsome’s boos lead the charge, cutting off Luigi’s frantic retreat and driving him into the corner. He recoiled, cowering and protecting his head as they dove at him like a swarm of bees, then fell back, scrabbling, onto the floor. 

      The boos hovered over him leisurely, laughing and mocking:

       “Look guys! Luigi’s finally here! We’re going to do to you what we did to your brother, only worse!” 

       Sparks of lightning jumped across his form and Luigi made a spasmodic swipe at the crowd, one hand still protecting his face. The boos darted back with an excited yatter, then pressed in again as he tried to rise, snickering. Luigi made a grab for something at his side. King boo got a glimpse of red. 

      His grin faltered. It was the poltergust. How did he have the poltergust? 

     The thought was a mistake.

      The instant the other boos felt his uncertainty they faltered. Luigi had recovered himself by now. He was up; pale, pressed against the wall, obviously shaking, but he was up with the poltergust nozzle clutched in his hands. The boos around him recoiled. King Boo watched the hose like something venomous, eyes flashing red and the cracks in his jem sparking as what was left of his magic tried to build. Luigi’s eyes were on him now. He seemed to be trying to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. His face was a twist of extreme fear, but there was anger there too, and a hardness in his eyes King Boo recognized from the all-too-recent encounter in the courtyard. 

     This was not the fight he had come for. 

      “Scatter!” he barked. That was all it took to dissolve the mass. Boos plunged everywhere, through the walls, roof, and floor. In seconds, the room was empty.  

• • •  

      Luigi collapsed against the wall, breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He clutched at the poltergust nozzle, eyes locked on the hatch where the largest boo had retreated. He couldn’t believe—why had they just...

      The hatch sealed shut with a soft, electric click. Luigi jolted upright. 

      He had to follow them. 

      He stumbled forward and dropped down by the cap. It was smooth under his frantic hands, not offering enough purchase to even begin to pry. Its lock pulsed an agitating red. 

      Luigi knelt there, almost in a stupor as the full weight of what had happened leaked through his panic. There were boos here—more boos than he’d ever seen before. And they had Mario. 

      His head was spinning so fast he hardly noticed the gameboy ringing from where he had left it. After a moment, it stopped and there was silence, then it started all over again with its cheery tune. 

      Slowly, shakily, Luigi made his way toward it and removed it from the slot in the wall. 

      “Luigi! Thank heavens!” Blurted E. Gadd. “When you didn’t pick up I thought…” The professor trailed off as he saw Luigi’s pale face. “Never mind what I thought. Are you alright?” 

     Luigi gave a short, jerking nod. 

      “Are you hurt, lad? What happened?” 

     “I need to come back to the lab,” Luigi whispered, the words sticking in his throat.

     “Of course. Do you—should I stay on the line?” 

      Luigi gave a jerky shake of his head. 

     “No.” 

     The professor hesitated for a moment, then nodded. 

     “Alright, if you’re sure. I’ll meet you at the front of the place.”

     Luigi nodded again. 

      Despite the conversation being formally over, E. Gadd seemed hesitant to drop the call. 

      “It’s going to be fine lad,” he said after a moment of uncertain hovering. 

      Luigi nodded one last time and flipped the device closed. He only hoped the professor was right. 

• • • 

     There was an instant of shock, then Mario ran. 

      He ran like a drunken man, pushing off the walls with his hands and making for the half-open door at the other side of the lab. Beyond lay a dank stone passage—what looked to be part of the dungeon. 

      An unpleasant image of Luigi strung up in his old cell flashed across Mario’s mind. His heart pounded, and that yell rang in his ears. 

      The tunnel stretched out in front of him, growing steadily broader. His steps echoed off the stones, rattling among the black passages that riddled the walls ahead. His heart twisted as he lurched past the first entrance. Where should he go? Straight? How was he supposed to know? Then Mario slid to a halt, necked craning round to see the white glow leaking from the tunnel. 

      He doubled back and rounded the corner. There was King Boo. 

      The monarch had his back to him and was speaking earnestly to a group of his subjects. It was the smaller boos who saw Mario first, and their eyes bugged almost out of their heads. It was no wonder—he looked like a thing possessed. 

      The king saw their expressions and turned sharply, eyes locking onto the hero in red. For an instant there was disbelief, then murderous, horrifying rage.  Then he was back to his calm persona, albeit with a particularly nasty smile. 

      “Ah, Mario. I was just coming to fetch you.”

      “Where is he?!” Mario shouted. 

The king ignored the question, drifting forward with his gaggle of minions. 

      “I said where is he!”

      “I admit, I am thoroughly impressed. But as far as your ingenuity has brought you, you’re in no state for the fight you’re so obviously looking for,” Said the king. 

      What did King Boo expect him to do? surrender? Mario held his battle-stance, mouth set and grim. The king made no move at first, giving him time to lose his resolve. 

      “Take him,” he said finally. 

      The boos darted forward, mouths hanging open and squealing. Mario stepped to the side and smashed the first to the floor with a flaming downward slam. The next went much the same way. Then he was thrown back by a crackling purple bolt. 

      King Boo hovered at the end of the passage; his eyes glowed a dull red and his white aura flickered like a near-spent flashlight. Magic snapped around the broken gem of his crown, turning the air metallic until Mario could taste it. 

      “You’re beginning to try my patience,” hissed the king.

      Mario charged him. 

      King Boo held his ground, grin changed to a snarl as the weak sparks amassed around him. He took another shot, a pathetic, lose blob of energy, then vanished into the air. Mario braced himself, trying to muster a blast of fire. Then his hair stood on end as the buzz of loose magic brush through him. He whipped around just in time to see the king materialize, expression seeping with rage. 

      There was no fancy magic this time. King Boo slammed bodily into him, crushing Mario into the wall. But he didn’t stop there. Mario cried out in shock as the stones gave way behind him, like a puddle of thick glue. The king kept pushing, driving Mario through until he fell to the floor on the other side. 

      “Find your way out of this. If you can,” Snarled the King. 

      Mario choked down a breath of sharp, cold air and rolled to his feet, wet clothes peeling up from the frozen floor. The king was already going—vanishing through the wall; Mario lunged after him and slammed into solid stones. 

      He shouted, pounding on the wall, his breath steaming in the air around him. No one bothered to respond. It was viciously cold. After a moment, he rounded on the rest of the room. 

     He was in some sort of walk-in freezer.

• • •

      Luigi all but ran to the front of the mansion, flattening the few ghosts stupid enough to get in his way. He burst, squinting, into the foyer to find the professor waiting for him, just inside the double-doors. 

      The man’s face was tense and drawn, eyes darting anxiously over the room—it was touching in a way. He eyed Luigi intently as he approached, but much to Luigi’s relief, didn’t ask any questions—just held the door open for him and followed back to the lab. 

       Neither of them spoke at all until they had sealed the night out behind them and slid down the ladder. 

      “What happened?” The professor asked. 

      Luigi stripped the Poltergust from his shoulders and set it gently on the floor. 

      “I was ambushed.” 

      “By boos?”

      Luigi nodded, chest heaving. 

      “How many?” 

      “I don’t know.”

      Luigi stepped shakily to the old sofa and tried to sit down, but in a moment he was up again, clutching his hat. E. Gadd watched him with a piercing intensity. 

      “Lad, you have got to tell me what happened.”

      Luigi’s face twisted and he took another deep, calming breath. Quietly, he began to recount the incident. The professor listened without a word. 

      “And Mario’s your brother?” He said, when Luigi had finished. Luigi gave a miserable nod. 

      “Poor fella…” 

      The sound of rain clattered against the tin roof far above, and there was a soft, drip- drip- drip between the rafters. Faint humming escaped from the half-open door to the computer-lab. Luigi began pacing anxious circles around the room, looking dazed and still wringing his hat between his hands. 

      “Your brother’s that foreign treasure hunter, isn’t he?” Said E. Gadd. “The one the princess is so taken with. I dare say that explains a lot.”

      “What-” Luigi took another deep breath. “What will the boos do to him?”

      Gadd hesitated. 

      “I don’t know. I’ve seen some weird stuff, but I’ve never heard of boos taking a person like that. Whatever’s happened, I doubt they’ll kill him. Did you manage to catch any boos before they got away?” 

      “Ah. No matter. You’ve got one already, and at least you managed to split them up. Now you can pick them off before they regather.”

      There was another moment of silence.

     “Professor,” said Luigi, looking up sharply. “In that room, there was a combination to open the grate. What is it?” 

      Again, E. Gadd hesitated. “To open the trapdoor, you mean?” 

      Luigi nodded, still watching him intently. It was the Professor's turn to take a deep breath. “Lad, I don’t think you understand how lucky you got back there. Boos grow in power as their numbers increase. And if King Boo is still here... You wouldn’t stand a chance against all of ‘em at once, poltergust or not.

     “Besides there's a good chance your brother isn’t down there at all. There are plenty of old dungeons in that place. He could be in any one of them.” 

      Luigi visibly flinched at the concept. 

      “But- why else would they all be in one place like that?” he said.  

      “I don’t think that ambush was meant for you, lad. They were probably after me.”

      “Why?” 

     “I’m a ghost hunter. The boos are ghosts—well, spirits. I can’t imagine there are many people they’re less fond of than me.

     “And more importantly, that trapdoor leads to my lab.” The professor chuckled at Luigi’s confused look. “What, did you think this shabby place is where I do my work? This is hardly more than a shed—a panic room.” 

The professor’s grin faded, and he once again became serious. “Anyhow, there’s not a living soul other than me who knows about that trapdoor, let alone how to open it. It makes no sense for the boos to lay a trap there for you.” 

     “I have to check down there,” Said Luigi firmly, “The boos aren’t there now. This is the only chance I’ll get.” 

     Gadd hesitated for another moment, then turned to one of the crowded work-benches with a half-shake of his head. Luigi watched him intently as he teased a notepad and pencil from one of the stacks of junk and scribbled a short number combination. He ripped off the sheet and offred it to Luigi; he took it, clenching it in one hand. 

     “Have you notice that the gameboy beeps whenever you encounter boos?” Asked E. Gadd. 

     “Yes.” 

     “That’s the boo radar: it’s kept me out of a lot of trouble over the years. If that thing starts beeping and flashing red while you’re in the lab, you get out quick. Don’t count on the poltergust to scare the boos off twice because it won’t—I can hardly believe it happened the first time.”

     “I understand.” 

      Silent and grim-faced, Luigi went back to where he left the poltergust, shrugging it awkwardly onto his shoulders. E. Gadd followed behind him. 

       “Don’t look so nervous, lad. It won’t help you in there, let me tell you. Just be careful, and stay sharp. Keep an eye on the boo radar,” he said in his usual enthusiastic tone. “I’ll keep monitoring your progress from here.”

      “Thanks,” said Luigi, and began his resolute climb back up the ladder, the bit of note paper still crushed in one hand.

Previous

Next

Index

--------------------------

Notes:

Welp, it looks like this chapter is just short. It’s not 100% how I want it (I’m not sold on the scene between E. Gadd and Luigi), but it’s not horrible and staring at it isn’t making it any better. 

#Concerning Bycatch #Super Mario #mario and luigi #king boo #luigi’s mansion #concerning bycatch: chapters #writing #side projects #Super Mario Disaster #This project is still a draft and probably contains typos

[tired-college-student-writing]

What do you mean real?

Summary- Ethan really thought the craziest thing he’d ever experience was having his idol turned friend invite him to move cross country for YouTube. Unfortunately, that was only the tip of the iceberg.

Part 1

part 2

Ethan tossed his set of keys on the kitchen counter as he entered Mark’s house. He listened to the house only to find it silent, which was odd since Mark and Chica were suppose to be home. Right as he was going to call out for the older man, a yellow and pink form appeared in the doorway. He raised an eyebrow before shrugging.

“We doing an ego video today then?” 

Mark grinned behind his pink mustache, lips spread so far it must be painful.

“Not sure yet, blueberry. Still working out some of the… Details,” 

The slurred drawl made Ethan snort before turning towards the fridge.

“Okay cool,” He said, rummaging through the fridge for last night leftover Chinese food, “We can go over ideas if you want, just let me heat some of this up. Tyler texted a bit ago saying he was leaving his doctor’s appointment so he should be here-” He stopped talking as he heard the back door open. Weird no one else was supposed to be here…

“Who’s an adorable baby girl~” 

Ethan’s blood ran cold as he heard Mark coo at Chica from down the hall, “You are, oh yes you are Chica-bica.”

 Ethan’s eyes were locked with the man across the island from him.

“Yo Ethan, you here yet?”  Mark called out, “I wanted to run some of these ideas past you before Tyler gets here,”

“We’re in the Kitchen Mr. Mark-le-plier!” Wilford answered. Ethan heard Mark swear and feet pounding on the floor before he saw him appear in the doorway from the corner of his eye. Chica shot past him towards the brightly dressed man who fell to the floor with an excited squeal.

“Oh, Miss. Chica, you’re looking lovely as always,” was laughed out as Chica licked his face. It wasn’t until a large hand gripped Ethan’s forearm did he look away from the man on the floor up to an almost identical looking face. Mark placed himself between the laughing man and Ethan before turning back to the blue-haired man.

“Are you okay?” Mark asked glancing over his pale friend, “He didn’t hurt you did he?”

“Please tell me this is some weird dream,” 

Mark let out a hollow laugh,“I wish,”

“Secret twin brother?” 

Mark raised an eyebrow, “I’m sorry, have you met my family? There’s no way I could hide a twin,”

“I’m in some weird ass coma dream?” 

Mark sputtered at that last one, eyes wide not knowing what to say for a couple of seconds before he threw up his hands.

“Why the hell would you be in a coma?!” He screeched indignantly as the… being behind him laughed.

“I don’t know,” Ethan replied back at equal volume, “Maybe I accidentally forgot to ask in a new place used peanut oil or some shit!” Mark paled as Wilford fell silent, Ethan hardly noticed until a flash of pink light appeared behind and a hand squeezed his shoulder. He whipped around coming face to face with a stoic-looking Wilford, a heavy scent of candy apples hitting the blue-haired man full force. The look on his face was enough to send a shiver down Ethan’s spine, even without him thinking about how only a second before Wilford had been across the room.

“Now, Now Ethan, my boy,” His voice was slow as if talking to a child, “ Markaham doesn’t like to think about friends playing that kind of jokes on him,”

“What kind of jokes?” Ethan couldn’t help but ask, mind trying in vain to restart.

“Pretending to be dead and leaving him, of course!” Wilford said. Ethan opened his mouth to ask what he’s talking about when Mark broke in.

“We’ve been over this Wilford. When people die in this plane, they stay dead,” Wilford frowned.

“That’s not very fun!”

“It's not supposed to be!”

“Well, I guess those jokes aren’t much fun in the first place,”

“Not everything is a joke Wil!” 

Ethan squeaked, stumbling out from between the two snapping men. Mark stopped, throwing a glare at Wilford before he turned back to the younger man.

“How about we move this to the living room?”

 Ethan felt his head nod as Mark ushered him onto the coach. Wilford followed rocking back and forth on his heels across the room. Mark sighed, wincing a bit before leaning against the arm of the couch. He gestured at the pink haired man.

“Ethan met my oldest ego. Wilford Warfstache, manic reporter, possible psychopath, and an all-around pain in my ass.”

 Wilford swept into a deep and dramatic bow.

“A pleasure to finally meet you in the flesh, Blueberry,” Wilford proclaimed, smile wider then looked possible. Ethan’s eyes flicked between the two men letting the silence overtake the room.

“This,” He finally broke the uncomfortable silence after several long minutes, eyes settling on Mark’s serious face, “This is actually real. HE’s real?!” 

Wilford laughed heartily, “He got it together quicker than most!”

Ethan stiffened as the… ego gestured wildly with his gun. That thing was plastic, right? It had been when he had messed with it at the office last week, but no he wasn’t so sure. 

Mark simply rolled his eyes at the man he had just described as a maniac waving a gun around.“Shut up Wil. We were going introduce him to you guys soon,” 

Wilford pouted crossing his arms.

“It’s been a month!” He whined, “I’m not the only one getting bored you know,”

“It has not, it’s hardly been three weeks!” 

Ethan broke in, not able to hold his tongue any longer, “How the actual FUCK!” 

Mark chuckled slightly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Long story,” He said, “The basics are Wil here is a figment of me brought to life by the fans and their belief in him-”

“The official term is Tulpa,” Wilford said, breaking in a proud smile on his face, “A being brought to life by a mental power. Oh, you should have seen Mark’s face the first time I made an appearance! He thought he was going crazy for over a month before I decided to appear when he was with Wade and Bobert, they all had a conniption!” Mark growled, glaring at the other man.

“Yes, because having a psycho with my exact face pop out of fucking nowhere is totally normal,”

“It is to you,”

“Well, it is now! You don’t leave me the hell alone!” 

Ethan couldn’t help, but feel slightly amused as the pair started squabbling, Mark’s voice slipping into an exasperated fondness as Wilford’s smile faded from manic to content.

“This isn’t what I expected to come back to.” 

The pair stopped mid-sentence, eyes flashing over to the door, not moving back from each other’s faces. Ethan glanced up to see Tyler standing in the entryway, arms crossed over his chest.

“Ah, the man of unusual size has returned!” Wilford greeted, wiggling his fingers at him.

“Wilford, let me guess, you decided to ignore Mark’s order to let us break this to Ethan gently because you were bored?”

“Got it in one, Chap!”

“And you two,” He continued, “Got distracted by your lover’s quarrel to actually explain what’s happening?” Ethan let out a startled laugh at the sputtering pair that sprung apart, disgust growing on both their faces.

“Gross, Tyler!” Mark whined, nose wrinkled, “He’s literally me… if I was a pink obsessed serial killer,”

“Hey now,” Wilford said, “I’ve never killed any cereal.”

“Enough,” Tyler’s voice cut over the impending argument, “Ethan needs an explanation,”

“They told me some stuff, like him being here because the fans want him to be real and stuff, and how he made Mark think he was going crazy before freaking out Bob and Wade,” 

Tyler snorted, “Better than my introduction to them. I almost got stabbed when I met Mark’s superpowered imaginary friends,”

Ethan’s eyes widen.

“Them? Friends? As in plural? Are all the fucking egos alive?” Ethan ranked his brain trying to make a list of all the characters Mark created over the years, but there were too many. Mark cut back in.

“Only the most well known and loved ones~” 

A pink cloud appeared on Ethan’s lap fading to reveal a grinning Wilford, the smell of candy apples renewing. He seems to ignore the fact that Ethan looks ready to bolt as the ego continued.

“Oh yes, it’s me, my partner in crime Bimbo, the good old Doctor, Mr. Roboto, Hosty bosty, The rodent monarch, The sexy scary school girl and of course, Darkipoo.”

 Ethan’s minds whirls trying to figure out which characters Wilford is talking about. His mouth works quicker than his mind as a question slipped out.

“Why the fuck does it smell like a carnival threw up?” 

Wilford looked sat up scandalized as Mark double over, clutching his gut as he laughed, Tyler giggling helplessly next to them. Wilford huffs as he leaves Ethan’s lap, mumbling to himself as he paces the room.

“Of all the things for you to be worried about at this given moment” Mark finally gasps out, “You’re asking about how his pink cloud smells like fair food?” Ethan blushed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Excuse me for trying to ignore the fact that half the egos he listed off are killers… I think at least? I mean you implied stuff in the videos, but didn’t always come out and say they were serial killers,”

“Nah,” Tyler laughed, “I’m pretty sure at least half of them would kill people if given the chance,”

“I made it so they don’t” Mark piped in raising his hands in defense, “ They just have to work out their murderous desires in other ways,”

“That’s very reassuring,” 

Mark shrugged helplessly, a weariness settling on his face.

“You learn to live with what you can get when your psyche literally shatters into a million pieces and becomes new personas any time you want to make a joke.”

Ethan winced, only for Mark to wave it off.

“Oh don’t get so put off, I’ve made my peace with whatever curse is placed on YouTube that makes egos come life.” 

Before Ethan could respond, the front door banged open, and a mechanical whirl was heard walking towards them.

“Oh looks like my escort has finally arrived,” Wilford said, waving his fingers slightly as another Mark look-alike appeared in the doorway. With his shaggy hair, simple blue shirt and glow G shining on his chest it was easy for Ethan to conjure his name up.

“Hey Google,” Tyler greeted, as Mark just sighed as Google tilted his head.

“Gr-Greetings Tyler,” His voice skipped slightly over the words.

“Let me guess,” Mark started, “Wil left right before a meeting and Dark is throwing a fit?” The android nodded, advancing on the pinkette.

“Dark is-is not impr-pressed with Wilford’s disappear-ance,” he explained, “I have been sent to retrieve-retrieve him,” 

Wilford pouts.

“Alllllllright,” He sighs, “I just need to do one more thing before we leave,” Google’s eye seems to twitch before he nods.

“Hurry u-up then.” 

Wilford smirks before diving onto the couch, wrapping his arms around Ethan’s waist, placing his knife against his neck.

“Isn’t my new friend adorable googs~” He sings, the others freezing around him. Google’s blue eyes flashed over the scene.

“I was under the impre-resssion you wished-wished not to tell Eth-Ethan of our ex-ex-existence yet,” Google said blandly, ignoring Ethan’s pleading eyes. Mark refused to tear his eyes off of the pair but replied.

“I didn’t Wil had other ideas though,” Tyler made a move forward only for Wilford to tighten the knife more.

“Ah Ah,” He laughs at Tyler, “No need to be hasty-” 

Ethan rammed his head back against Wilford’s nose, twisting from his grip, grabbing the knife from his hands as he sprang up from the couch. Without a second thought, he ran behind the others, pinning himself to the wall behind them. Mark and Tyler simply stared at the small boy, back to Wilford that was clutching his nose in pain.

“Is-Is your t-t-test complete yet?” 

They all turned to google who had his arms crossed across his chest. Wilford pulled his hands away from his face, smiling widely despite the blood dripping down his face.

“Yup, Yup!” He skipped over to Google, snapping his fingers. Ethan yelped as the knife in his hand vanished and reappeared in the pink psycho’s.

“What the fuck Wilford?!” Mark demanded. Google raised an eyebrow at him.

“It’s tra-tradition to see if the introduc-tions in-to the Office include a death threat,” He said, “We thought you-you were aw-aware of this. It’s to in-sure they can handle the more-ore unstable sides of the egos. If not then-then the saner of the egos-Egos work to pro-protect th-em until they-they learn to defend them-selves.”

Ethan’s eyes widen, before glancing at the stunned men in front of him.

“You handled yourself nicely, we shouldn’t have to worry about you too much tomorrow,” Wilford said, “Tootles~” 

In a flash of pink the egos vanished, leaving the three men alone. Mark removed his glasses, rubbing his face with a groan.

“We’re taking a day off today,” He said, collapsing on the recliner, “ We’re gonna need all our energy for when they demand all us at the Office tomorrow.”

“I’ll text Kat,” Tyler said, “I’m sure she’ll bring some Indian food,”

“Amy will probably grab ice cream when I tell her why we’re having a light work day today,” Mark mumbled pulling his phone out. Ethan nodded silently taking a deep breath before walking out of the room.

“Where you going?” Tyler called after him. He glanced back as he climbed the stairs.

“Borrowing Mark’s laptop” He said, “If we’re not recording today I should get some editing done,”

“Yeah, no,” He heard Mark call before the man seemingly appeared behind him, swinging him onto his shoulder and started to carry him back down the stairs. Ethan yelped in shock, pounding on Mark’s back lightly.

“What the hell dude! Put me down,” He complained.

“Not happening,” He laughed, tossing him on the couch.

“You are on strict relax mode today,” Tyler said, as Mark went over the tv and started fiddling with one of the game systems.

“I’m fine and we have to do something,” He whined, trying to get up.

“Kathryn and I will do some editing and post a video or two for both of our channels. You’re giving your brain a rest from the mind fucking it just experienced,” Mark commented, shoving him back down, before handing him a Wii controller. A quick glance at the screen revealed Mario Kart 8 was cued up and ready to go. He sighed settling back.

“You guys aren’t giving me a choice are you?” Mark laughed ruffling his hair.

“We’ll let you pick what cup were competing for,” Ethan’s lips quirked up against his will as he entered Grand Prix mode. He slowly relaxed as his friends plopped down next to him, the fears of tomorrow being drowned out by colorful graphics and playful shoving.

#markiplier #crankgamplays #tyler scheid #welcome to the office! #Wilford Warfstache #Google

[aizawa-yamada-shinsou]

What do you mean real?

Summary- Ethan really thought the craziest thing he’d ever experience was having his idol turned friend invite him to move cross country for YouTube. Unfortunately that was only the tip of the iceberg.

@pleaseletthisjimbetaken You did say you’d like to see if I posted anything so I hope it’s not too bad. 

edit- Decided it was too long and added this in. Also why do I always find mistakes after I post?

part 2

Ethan tossed his set of keys on the kitchen counter as he entered Mark’s house. He listened to the house only to find it silent, which was odd since Mark and Chica were suppose to be home. Right as he was going to call out for the older man, a yellow and pink form appeared in the doorway. He raised an eyebrow before shrugging.

“We doing an ego video today then?” Mark grinned behind his pink mustache, lips spread so far it must be painful.

“Not sure yet, blueberry,” The slurred drawl made Ethan snort, “Still working out some of the… Details,” Ethan smiled back before turning towards the fridge.

“Okay cool,” He said, rummaging through the fridge for last night leftover chinese food, “We can go over ideas if you want, just let me heat some of this up. Tyler texted a bit ago saying he was leaving his doctor’s appointment so he should be here-” He stopped talking as he heard the back door open. Weird no one else was supposed to be here…

“Who's an adorable baby girl~” Ethan’s blood ran cold as he heard Mark coo at Chica from down the hall, “You are, oh yes you are Chica-bica.” Ethan’s eyes were locked with the man across the island from him.

“Yo Ethan, you here yet?” He heard Mark call out, “I wanted to run some of these ideas past you before Tyler gets here,”

“We’re in the Kitchen Mr. Mark-le-plier!” Wilford called. Ethan heard Mark swear and feet pounding on the floor before he saw him appear in the doorway from the corner of his eye. Chica shot past him towards the brightly dressed man who fell to the floor with an excited squeal.

“Oh, Miss. Chica, you’re looking lovely as always,” was laughed out as Chica licked his face. It wasn’t until a large hand gripped Ethan’s forearm did he look away from the man on the floor up to an almost identical looking face. Mark placed himself between the laughing man and Ethan before turning back to the blue-haired man.

“Are you okay?” Mark asked glancing over his pale friend, “He didn’t hurt you did he?”

“Please tell me this is some weird dream,” Mark let out a hollow laugh.

“I wish,”

“Secret twin brother?” Mark raised an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry, have you met my family? There’s no way I could hide a twin,”

“I’m in some weird ass coma dream?” Mark sputtered at that last one, eyes wide not knowing what to say for a couple of seconds before he threw up his hands.

“Why the hell would you be in a coma?!” He screeched indignantly as the… being behind him laughed.

“I don’t know,” Ethan replied back at equal volume, “Maybe I accidentally forgot to ask in a new place used peanut oil or some shit!” Mark paled as Wilford fell silent, Ethan hardly noticed until a flash of pink light appeared behind and a hand squeezed his shoulder. He whipped around coming face to face with a stoic-looking Wilford, a heavy scent of candy apples hitting the blue-haired man full force. The look on his face was enough to send a shiver down Ethan’s spine, even without him thinking about how only a second before Wilford had been across the room.

“Now, Now Ethan, my boy,” His voice was slow as if talking to a child, “ Markaham doesn’t like to think about friends playing that kind of jokes on him,”

“What kind of jokes?” Ethan couldn’t help but ask, mind trying in vain to restart.

“Pretending to be dead and leaving him, of course!” Wilford said. Ethan opened his mouth to ask what he’s talking about when Mark broke in.

“We’ve been over this Wilford. When people die in this plane, they stay dead,” Wilford frowned.

“That’s not very fun!”

“It’s not suppose to be!”

“Well, I guess those jokes aren’t much fun in the first place,”

“Not everything is a joke Wil!” Ethan squeaked, stumbling out from between the two snapping men. Mark stopped, throwing a glare at Wilford before he turned back to the younger man.

“How about we move this to the living room?” Ethan felt his head nod as Mark ushered him onto the coach. Wilford followed rocking back and forth on his heels across the room. Mark sighed, wincing a bit before leaning against the arm of the couch. He gestured at the pink haired man.

“Ethan met my oldest ego. Wilford Warfstache, manic reporter, possible psychopath, and an all-around pain in my ass,” Wilford swept into a deep and dramatic bow.

“A pleasure to finally meet you in the flesh, Blueberry,” Wilford proclaimed, smile wider then looked possible. Ethan's eyes flicked between the two men letting the silence over take the room.

“This,” He finally broke the uncomfortable silence after several long minutes, eyes settling on Mark’s serious face, “This is actually real. HE’s real?!” Wilford laughed heartily.

“He got it together quicker than most,” Ethan stiffened as the… ego gestured wildly with his gun. That thing was plastic, right? It had been when he had messed with it at the office last week, but no he wasn’t so sure. Mark simply rolled his eyes at the man he had just described as a maniac waving a gun around.

“Shut up Wil. We were going introduce him to you guys soon,” Wilford pouted crossing his arms.

“It’s been a month!” He whined, “I’m not the only one getting bored you know,”

“It has not, it’s hardly been three weeks!” Ethan broke in, not able to hold his tongue any longer.

“How the actual FUCK!” Mark chuckled slightly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Long story,” He said, “The basics are Wil here is a figment of me brought to life by the fans and their belief in him-”

“The official term is Tulpa,” Wilford said, breaking in a proud smile on his face, “A being brought to life by a mental power. Oh, you should have seen Mark’s face the first time I made an appearance! He thought he was going crazy for over a month before I decided to appear when he was with Wade and Bobert, they all had a conniption!” Mark growled, glaring at the other man.

“Yes, because having a psycho with my exact face pop out of fucking nowhere is totally normal,”

“It is to you,”

“Well, it is now! You don’t leave me the hell alone!” Ethan couldn’t help, but feel slightly amused as the pair started squabbling, Mark’s voice slipping into an exasperated fondness as Wilford’s smile faded from manic to content.

“This isn’t what I expected to come back to,” The pair stopped mid-sentence, eyes flashing over to the door, not moving back from each other's faces. Ethan glanced up to see Tyler standing in the entryway, arms crossed over his chest.

“Ah, the man of unusual size has returned!” Wilford greeted, wiggling his fingers at him.

“Wilford, let me guess, you decided to ignore Mark’s order to let us break this to Ethan gently because you were bored?”

“Got it in one, Chap!”

“And you two,” He continued, “Got distracted by your lover’s quarrel to actually explain what’s happening?” Ethan let out a startled laugh at the sputtering pair that sprung apart, disgust growing on both their faces.

“Gross, Tyler!” Mark whined, nose wrinkled, “He’s literally me... if I was a pink obsessed serial killer,”

“Hey now,” Wilford said, “I’ve never killed any cereal,”

“Enough,” Tyler’s voice cut over the impending argument, “Ethan needs an explanation,”

“They told me some stuff, like him being here because the fans want him to be real and stuff, and how he made Mark think he was going crazy before freaking out Bob and Wade,” Tyler snorted.

“Better than my introduction to them. I almost got stabbed when I met Mark’s superpowered imaginary friends,” Ethan’s eyes widen.

“Them? Friends? As in plural? Are all the fucking egos alive?” Ethan ranked his brain trying to make a list of all the characters Mark created over the years, but there were too many. Mark cut back in.

“Only the most well known and loved ones,” A pink cloud appeared on Ethan’s lap fading to reveal a grinning Wilford, the smell of candy apples renewing. He seems to ignore the fact that Ethan looks ready to bolt as he continued.

“Oh yes, it’s me, my partner in crime Bimbo, the good old Doctor, Mr. Roboto, Hosty bosty, The rodent monarch, The sexy scary school girl and of course, Darkipoo,” Ethan’s minds whirls trying to figure out which characters Wilford is talking about. His mouth works quicker than his mind as a question slipped out.

“Why the fuck does it smell like a carnival threw up?” Wilford looked sat up scandalized as Mark double over, clutching his gut as he laughed, Tyler giggling helplessly next to them. Wilford huffs as he leaves Ethan’s lap, mumbling to himself as he paces the room.

“Of all the things for you to be worried about at this given moment” Mark finally gasps out, “You're asking about how his pink cloud smells like fair food?” Ethan blushed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Excuse me for trying to ignore the fact that half the egos he listed off are killers... I think at least? I mean you implied stuff in the videos, but didn't always come out and say they were serial killers,"

"Nah," Tyler laughed, "I'm pretty sure at least half of them would kill people if given the chance,"

"I made it so they don't" Mark piped in raising his hands in defense, " They just have to work out their murderous desires in other ways,"

“That’s very reassuring,” Mark shrugged helplessly, a weariness settling on his face.

“You learn to live with what you can get when your psyche literally shatters into a million pieces and becomes new personas any time you want to make a joke,” Ethan winced, only for Mark to wave it off.

“Oh don’t get so put off, I’ve made my peace with whatever curse is placed on YouTube that makes egos come life,” Before Ethan could respond, the front door banged open, and a mechanical whirl was heard walking towards them.

“Oh looks like my escort has finally arrived,” Wilford said, waving his fingers slightly as another Mark look-alike appeared in the doorway. With his shaggy hair, simple blue shirt and glow G shining on his chest it was easy for Ethan to conjure his name up.

“Hey Google,” Tyler greeted, as Mark just sighed as Google tilted his head.

“Gr-Greetings Tyler,” His voice skipped slightly over the words.

“Let me guess,” Mark started, “Wil left right before a meeting and Dark is throwing a fit?” The android nodded, advancing on the pinkette.

“Dark is-is not impr-pressed with Wilford’s disappear-ance,” he explained, “I have been sent to retrieve-retrieve him,” Wilford pouts.

“Alllllllright,” He sighs, “I just need to do one more thing before we leave,” Google’s eye seems to twitch before he nods.

“Hurry u-up then,” Wilford smirks before diving onto the couch, wrapping his arms around Ethan’s waist, placing his knife against his neck.

“Isn’t my new friend adorable googs~” He sings, the others freezing around him. Google’s blue eyes flashed over the scene.

“I was under the impre-resssion you wished-wished not to tell Eth-Ethan of our ex-ex-existence yet,” Google said blandly, ignoring Ethan’s pleading eyes. Mark refused to tear his eyes off of the pair, but replied.

“I didn’t Wil had other ideas though,” Tyler made a move forward only for Wilford to tighten the knife more.

“Ah Ah,” He laughs at Tyler, “No need to be hasty-” Ethan rammed his head back against Wilford’s nose, twisting from his grip, grabbing the knife from his hands as he sprang up from the couch. Without a second thought, he ran behind the others, pinning himself to the wall behind them. Mark and Tyler simply stared at the small boy, back to Wilford that was clutching his nose in pain.

“Is-Is your t-t-test complete yet?” They all turned to google who had his arms crossed across his chest. Wilford pulled his hands away from his face, smiling widely despite the blood dripping down his face.

“Yup, Yup!” He skipped over to Google, snapping his fingers. Ethan yelped as the knife in his hand vanished and reappeared in the pink psycho’s.

“What the fuck Wilford?!” Mark demanded. Google raised an eyebrow at him.

“It’s tra-tradition to see if the introduc-tions in-to the Office include a death threat,” He said, “We thought you-you were aw-aware of this. It’s to in-sure they can handle the more-ore unstable sides of the egos. If not then-then the saner of the egos-Egos work to pro-protect th-em until they-they learn to defend them-selves.” Ethan's eyes widen, before glancing at the stunned men in front of him.

“You handled yourself nicely, we shouldn’t have to worry about you too much tomorrow,” Wilford said, “Tootles~” In a flash of pink the egos vanished, leaving the three men alone. Mark removed his glasses, rubbing his face with a groan.

"We're taking a day off today," He said, collapsing on the recliner, " We're gonna need all our energy for when they demand all us at the Office tomorrow," "I'll text Kat," Tyler said, "I'm sure she'll bring some Indian food,"

"Amy will probably grab ice cream when I tell her why we're having a light work day today," Mark mumbled pulling his phone out. Ethan nodded silently taking a deep breath before walking out of the room.

"Where you going?" Tyler called after him. He glanced back as he climbed the stairs.

"Borrowing Mark’s laptop" He said, "If we're not recording today I should get some editing done,"

"Yeah, no," He heard Mark call before the man seemingly appeared behind him, swinging him onto his shoulder and started to carry him back down the stairs. Ethan yelped in shock, pounding on Mark's back lightly.

"What the hell dude! Put me down," He complained.

"Not happening," He laughed, tossing him on the couch.

"You are on strict relax mode today," Tyler said, as Mark went over the tv and started fiddling with one of the game systems.

"I'm fine and we have to do something," He whined, trying to get up.

"Kathryn and I will do some editing and post a video or two for both of our channels. You're giving your brain a rest from the mind fucking it just experienced," Mark commented, shoving him back down, before handing him a Wii controller. A quick glance at the screen revealed Mario Kart 8 was cued up and ready to go. He sighed settling back.

“You guys aren’t giving me a choice are you?” Mark laughed ruffling his hair.

“We’ll let you pick what cup were competing for,” Ethan’s lips quirked up against his will as he entered Grand Prix mode. He slowly relaxed as his friends plopped down next to him, the fears of tomorrow being drowned out by colorful graphics and playful shoving.

Yeah posting this might be a mistake but whatever. I’m only doing this cause I’m procrastinating studying for finals because Trig is going to kill me

#markiplier #crankgameplays #Tyler Scheid #wilford warfstache #Googleplier #Rachel's writing #Why did I post this???

[aion-rsa]

Godzilla vs. Kong: Comparing the 1962 and 2021 Versions

https://ift.tt/3fEpCBc

he following article contains Godzilla vs. Kong spoilers.

After three movies of build-up, the battle lines are drawn. The mighty Godzilla goes toe-to-toe with the titan gorilla King Kong over who is the alpha of the MonsterVerse. While the movie doesn’t have the epic, apocalyptic feel which came with its predecessor Godzilla: King of the Monsters, Godzilla vs. Kong does deliver on the crazy fight scenes and makes good on a rivalry that has long had its foot in pop culture—if only because of an incredibly silly film from 1962.

The original King Kong vs. Godzilla is not a movie that’s aged well, but there’s something so fitting about seeing a giant ape trade punches with a giant lizard, then and now. It’s surprising it took this long to get a real rematch, but at least now we don’t have to deal with the heresy of seeing Kong depicted as a guy in a rubber costume.

Now that we have our second chance at this titanic showdown, let’s see how the two incarnations compare.

Place in the Kaiju Series

King Kong vs. Godzilla, despite its marquee crossover title, was actually very early in the line-ups for its respective franchises. Well, sort of. King Kong and its sequel Son of Kong both came out in 1933. The King Kong series wasn’t all that prolific, so there wasn’t another installment until the versus movie, nearly 30 years later.

The idea of King Kong being part of Toho’s kaiju continuity would also continue with one sequel in 1967’s King Kong Escapes, this time introducing Mechani-Kong, the robot double of the iconic ape. Interestingly enough, King Kong beat Godzilla to the punch with that gimmick as Mechagodzilla wouldn’t be introduced for another few years, in part inspired by Mechani-Kong.

After that movie, King Kong was pulled away from Toho’s hands and nothing was done with the franchise until nine years later, when the original was remade by Dino De Laurentiis.

As for Godzilla, he had yet to really find his footing before stepping into the ring with Kong. Oh sure, the original Godzilla film is a stone cold classic, and the sequel Godzilla Raids Again was decent enough, mixing the original’s atomic terror with the introduction of giant monster vs. giant monster action. But that was all the beast had going for him around that time—and in each of these previous appearances he was still the heavy. All those ridiculous battles with Mothra, Rodan, Gigan, and the like would happen after 1962. Thus King Kong vs. Godzilla was not the culmination, but the event to kickstart decades of “Godzilla vs.” films.

As for Godzilla vs. Kong, the film marked the (first?) climax of Warner Brothers’ latest attempt to mimic the shared universe model which has made the Marvel Cinematic Universe so successful. And even with only four movies under its belt, the MonsterVerse is shockingly one of the more successful and coherent attempts to pull off one of these in Hollywood in the last decade. (See the Dark Universe for when it goes disastrously wrong.)

At the very least, the lead-up is perfectly done. 2014 gave us the initial Godzilla film; 2017 brought Kong: Skull Island, which took place decades earlier but was connected due to including the monster-studying organization Monarch; and 2019’s Godzilla: King of the Monsters built on the 2014 film by adding more recognizable kaiju, throwing in a couple Kong cameos, and even loosely setting up the confrontation in the end credits.

While King of the Monsters didn’t do great financially, Warner Bros. was already too deep in the creation of Godzilla vs. Kong to stop. So they lucked out in getting at least one more chapter out of the pile.

The Folly of Men

I was going to compare the human characters from the two movies, but… I barely recall anything from King Kong vs. Godzilla and I just rewatched it.

But whatever. These elements are just padding that we have to power through. The stuff in the new movie about Millie Bobby Brown and the husky kid from Deadpool 2 sneaking around for the sake of exposition isn’t worth talking about. Instead let’s consider how each movie deals with man’s hubris.

Godzilla vs. Kong has Walter Simmons (Demián Bichir) as the big villain, playing a cross between Lex Luthor and the Most Interesting Man in the World. The idea that Godzilla exists to protect mankind is an insult to him. He feels that it belittles the human race. Hence the creation of Mechagodzilla. By building that robot, Simmons feels that man will once again be the apex predator and ruler of its own destiny. This foolish point-of-view not only pushes the destructive plot that winds up killing countless people, but his supposed control over Mechegodzilla turns out to be his undoing.

Back in the 1960s, King Kong vs. Godzilla plays with a more comedic version of hubris that still feels relevant. Mr. Tako, the head of a pharmaceutical company, decides he wants to capture King Kong. Why? Because he’d make great publicity for his product in commercials. What does King Kong have to do with medication? Who cares! It’s sensationalism, baby!

In the end, this titanic clash happens in part because a CEO wanted to sponsor it. Mr. Tako doesn’t meet a fate as dark as Simmons, but that’s mostly because he’s too much of a goofy dork for us to really want to see him get murdered by a giant beast.

Introducing Godzilla

One of the most amusing things about King Kong vs. Godzilla is the differences in storytelling between the American and Japanese versions released in 1962. In both versions, an American submarine gets stuck in an iceberg and when it gets loose, it accidentally unleashes a pissed off Godzilla. Being that this is only Godzilla’s third movie (well, this Godzilla’s second if we’re being technical), it would be pretty easy to just say that Godzilla was buried in an avalanche in Godzilla Raids Again and now he’s free. However, the dubbing in the American version suggests Godzilla’s been there since prehistoric times.

Since Godzilla had yet to befriend any benevolent, squealing moth larvae, Godzilla was all about being a giant, destructive asshole at this time. The iceberg probably didn’t help. To paraphrase Dennis Leary: imagine taking a cold shower and multiplying that by fifteen million times. That’s how pissed off the Zilla’s gonna be. So in either edit of the film, King Kong vs. Godzilla’s lizard is the villain.

Read more

Movies

Godzilla vs. Kong Director Says There’s Enough Footage for ‘Five-Hour’ Cut

By Don Kaye

Movies

Godzilla vs. Kong: Where The MonsterVerse Should Go Next

By David Crow

The Legendary Pictures Godzilla of the MonsterVerse is also pissed off in his first appearance in Godzilla vs. Kong, but that’s considered an actual surprise. Filmmakers had just spent two movies establishing Godzilla as some kind of noble protector of humanity. Having him show up and wreck everything is considered out of character. While Godzilla isn’t the most developed character in this film, he at least comes with a sense of intriguing mystery at the start.

Introducing King Kong

Just like in the original King Kong, Kong’s deal in the 1962 movie is that he’s just chilling on his own island when foreigners have to come over, disturb him, and drag him off for their own entertainment. Actually that’s him in both of his Godzilla movies, although it’s a bit more complicated in Godzilla vs. Kong.

In the new movie, his original home of Skull Island is toast, so they put him in his own version of The Truman Show and create a fake habitat. Kong hates this, but it’s for his own good, as leaving will certainly annoy the hell out of the already-irritated Godzilla, and outside the habitat is a perpetual typhoon.

So moving Kong in this movie is a tale of necessity. In the original, it was a decision made out of greed. Now that I think about it, it’s kind of a neat touch that in King Kong vs. Godzilla, it was the Japanese who unleashed the American creation while the Americans unleashed the Japanese creation in Godzilla vs. Kong.

Round One

The main thing both first fights have in common between the two movies is that Kong gets absolutely wrecked. In the new movie, Kong is drugged and taken away on a ship, something that also happens to him in the Toho original (and the original, original from 1933 for that matter). But this time, Godzilla comes for him and goes for an immediate throwdown. Even if Kong wasn’t already the underdog on paper, he is also bound by metal chains, drugged, and in the water. Godzilla is seaworthy. Kong is not (and likely smells really, really bad when wet). Kong’s very survival is a miracle.

As for the original showdown, their first meeting in 1962 is very brief. Godzilla has the high ground and Kong tries throwing rocks at him. After getting a chest-full of radioactive fire breath, Kong decides to step away and consider his options. He’s smart enough to nope on out of there.

Bulking Up for the Rematch

Taking a break from the fisticuffs, both incarnations of Godzilla continue to just wreck shit. Good for them.

The two versions of Kong go on their own diverging adventures, however. The 1962 Kong kidnaps another woman and climbs up a tower, only to get captured again again. Consider it a slightly more humanitarian version of the 1933 movie’s ending. The 2021 Kong goes on a Legend of Zelda quest to the center of the Earth, discovering the catacombs of his ancestors and getting equipped with a rocking axe ready to chop up Godzilla.

Just… remember to go for the head. Trust me, it can make half a universe of difference.

Round Two

Give credit to the folks from the original, they are actually able to set up the kaiju brawl in an area that is relatively lacking in human casualties. Using electric cables to guide Godzilla and a collection of balloons to carry a drugged King Kong (sort of recreated in the new movie at one point), the big fight occurs near Mount Fuji.

Initially, Kong tries to make up for his lack of fire breath by just throwing rocks over and over again. Godzilla is able to knock one of them back with his tail, but Kong persists. He also starts using his superior agility, which turns out to be his undoing. Kong rolls circles around Godzilla until slamming his own head into a boulder. That spells the end for the gorilla, as Godzilla stomps an absolute mudhole into his hide.

Kong has a far better second round in the remake, using his axe to absolutely ruin Godzilla’s night in the bright lights of Hong Kong. Despite Godzilla’s breath being treated like a level three Street Fighter super, Kong is able to evade it and prove that he was absolutely on Godzilla’s level after all.

After putting Godzilla through a building and dazing him for a bit, one of the boring human protagonists refers to Kong as the winner of round two. Then again, Godzilla isn’t finished by a long shot.

Final Battle

Funny thing about King Kong vs. Godzilla. Originally, it was meant to be Kong fighting a kaiju version of Frankenstein’s Monster. Although they switched it up, the writing of the fight was only slightly finagled. That’s why when King Kong looked to be ready for a dirt nap, he was revitalized by suddenly being zapped by a bunch of random lightning. Supposedly, King Kong getting strength through electricity was just an unused idea from the original movie concept.

Electric Kong went full Hulk Hogan on Godzilla, throwing him around like a rag doll and powering through his offense. It would have been more awesome if it didn’t look so damn silly, to the point that they briefly depicted the fight with puppets.

In the end, King Kong and Godzilla tumbled into the sea. In this continuity, Kong was able to overcome any watery advantage Godzilla would have had and rose up victorious. Then years later, that stupid, orange Godzilla book from my elementary school library claimed the Japanese version had Godzilla win and–due to it being a pre-internet age–so many of us believed the lie.

Those of you who know, know.

Godzilla v Kong has Godzilla spring back up from taking his lumps so he can absolutely demolish Kong. It’s like he’s insulted that Kong got some licks in and makes Kong’s final run in the old movie look weak. Eventually, Godzilla almost mortally wounds Kong with some stomps to the chest and walks off while Kong can only defiantly roar back at him.

Here’s where things get similar, but different. In a plot device reminiscent of Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, Mechagodzilla shows up in the third act. It’s a fairly clever take on another previous incarnation of the robot duplicate. In the Toho Godzilla continuity of the 2000s, Mechagodzilla was built atop the original 1950s Godzilla’s bones, which caused the first Godzilla’s ghost to gradually take over. This time around, Mechagodzilla is possessed by the mind/ghost of King Ghidorah from King of the Monsters. That’s why Godzilla has been in a mood. He senses the return of his old nemesis and it’s driven him into a frenzy.

Kong, meanwhile, is once again revived by being electrocuted back to health. This time it’s by the human characters and not random lightning, but the reference is definitely deliberate. Kong and Godzilla beat up the metal pretender, growl at each other, and go their separate ways. Maybe they’ll meet again if we get some kind of modern adaptation of Destroy All Monsters.

Who’s the Winner?

In the end, we’re left with two very different stories, even if the newer movie tries to reference the former a few times over. In the ‘60s, we received a wacky movie featuring Godzilla getting an overall 2-1, but losing in the third and most important battle. The modern one is silly in its own way and also gives us 2-1 in Godzilla’s favor, but it’s pretty apparent that Godzilla absolutely owns this matchup. It isn’t a victory for Kong to so much win a fight as it is for him to stand up and prove that he’s able to draw blood against the best.

It’s not a better version of the story, but a better version of the idea. Having these two behemoths duke it out is such a rich concept that’s only really been done well in unofficial video games like Rampage, Primal Rage, and King of the Monsters. King Kong vs. Godzilla from 1962 was merely okay, and charitably good enough. Now we get a real cinematic crossover brawl that makes good on what we really want?

Let’s see Legendary remake Frankenstein Conquers the World. Seriously.

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[kateanddevinreview]

A Christmas Prince

In Which Kate and Devin review Netflix’s new Christmas movie and utterly fail at avoiding spoilers.

Kate: So where do we start?! Devin: Pick a movie to talk about? Kate: Top of the list is Christmas Prince. It was terrible; from start to finish it was filled with cliches and things that didn't make sense Devin:  I liked the movie! Kate: You can like the movie that is fine. I enjoyed watching the movie? But only because it was so bad. Devin: I really like the izombie girl and she was super weird in this, almost soft spoken or something? Kate: She was weird, but she made it more enjoyable to me just because I like her. Devin: I would probably have been much less forgiving of this movie without her Kate: Prince was handsome, but I've already forgotten his name. Devin: Really? I thought he was eh. Kate: Not as handsome as in the next movie (spoliers!), but he was very princely I thought. Devin: I mean prince looked very british? But I don't find that attractive Kate: I guess I don't mean particularly attractive to me, but generically attractive. As in, I think more people would say he was very attractive than would say he was average. His acting was pretty blah though. His sister's hair was on point? Devin: Fair. She reminded me of the bitchy girl in willy wonka though. Kate: OMG, yes. She was very reminiscent of the bitchy girl. Devin: Was she the bitchy girl? Kate: I don't think she was? But definitely reminded me of her Devin: Hold on I am imdb-ing her Kate: Holding Devin:  Okay well searching “willy wonka and the chocolate factory” failed, because that is not the title. And you're right it's a totally different girl. Devin: Moving on, loved the queen lady, possibly because she's in it for all of 5 minutes. Kate: She was pretty good, very severe looking. But you could tell it was grief? (Spoiler: the king is dead) Devin: It's in the plot description, I don't think it's a spoiler. Kate: Oh is it? I didn't read the plot description. Devin: Also he's been dead for like a year Kate: Well fine Devin: No okay I lied. But it is revealed in like the first 10 minutes. Kate: It is a very major point in the plot. Kate: So actor choice I give it 8 christmas trees. Generally they all fit in and izombie girl made me willing to watch it. Devin: Yeah, out of 10 I'd say 8 is probably where I land too. Kate: Cool, consensus! Devin: I still really love that she has both family and friends and contacts them throughout the movie, like a normal person. Oh! And I liked that she called her boss to be like "hey, so, uh, what should I do?" Kate: That's true, the movie gets bonus points for concocting a real life around their protagonist. Devin: This is not a spoiler I don't think? But what the hell was with the scene where he saves her from wolves? Kate: Yes! That fit in nowhere? Wait, I mean, actually, when you think about how fast the plot moved, it progressed over only 2 weeks and ends with (Definitely spoiler) him proposing. Kate: Maybe attack by wolves was the instigating ‘falling in love quickly’ event? All the adrenaline? Devin: Oh yeah the timeline of this movie makes no sense. Also: how did she saddle and steal that horse if she was going to fall off so easy? Kate: How did she know how to ride a horse at all? Devin: Right? Kate: Clearly we are missing some important backstory here Devin: Was she from New York? Or do I just assume that's where all movie characters from a city live? Kate: I think the second, but I don't actually know where she was from. Her friend being super gay does suggest New York to me though.   Kate: Back to ratings, I'm going to give this one a low grade on Christmas-iness. I think the plot could have progressed absolutely the exact same way without being set over Christmas, using a birthday or something. I give it only 1 reindeer. Do they ever say how the King dies? Devin: I assume either illness or age… actually I feel like the king got cancer, but that could be 100% a lie. Kate: Doesn't matter because it’s not christmas related. Devin: Cold. Did you think the mom was old to have a daughter as young as Emily? I can't actually remember how old she looked. Kate: I really wondered about that. She looked a little old but my dad has a friend who got pregnant at 50, so physically it’s possible. And the sister was what, between 9-12? Devin: Probably Kate: So if mom was 55 in the movie that seems doable Devin: Ok. Also the king was a dick "hehe I will continue to lie to my only son about his parentage, EVEN THOUGH I KNOW I AM DYING AND ALSO HE IS A GROWN ASS MAN AND IT AFFECTS THE POLITICS OF MY KINGDOM and then I will HIDE THIS VERY IMPORTANT LEGALLY BINDING DECREE to be found after my death and definitely for sure followed even though honestly no one has to listen to a dead guy. And the only hint they have is my shitty riddle poetry" Kate: I still very much doubt the legality of the paper "it has the king's seal on it" no thank you. That's not how I like my laws made Devin: Like doesn't he need that notarized or looked at by a council or some shit? Also, it's not even a decree, it just says "I love my son lots, just not enough to tell him the truth". Kate: And if he did, wouldn't that person have come forward when he died? So fucking weird, he was a dick, you're right. Devin: What modern day country is this anyway? Kate: A shitty European one. Devin: Like, fake country, yes. But I assumed they were using maybe England as a template or something. Kate: It seemed a little like they were. But a much smaller country than England? Devin: Are there still ruling monarchies? In real life? Kate: Yes? Saudi Arabia? Devin: Hmm, I don't know enough about Saudi Arabian law to determine if death bed messages hidden in acorns are legally binding. Kate: Well, one of their princes just murdered a bunch of their other princes, so probably not. Kate: Oh hey, apparently Monaco is a country that still has a ruling monarch. Devin: Huh Kate: There are others but I don't think we need to get into all that. Just go read the wiki people. Devin: I mentioned while I was watching, but I still resent her dramatic race to stop the coronation when she easily could have called the palace. Kate: You have cellphones! Use them! Devin: It would have saved at *least* half an hour. Kate: Trope! That goes in the trope category. I'm giving the plot like 2 eggnogs, maybe tropes like 4 jingle bells. Devin: Yeah the trope meter was off the scale in this movie. Kate: Like, I liked some of the tropes? Which is why it’s a little higher for me. But damn. All of them. Devin: Tropes can be good, they just threw a lot of them in there. Kate: They made a list of tropes and then made a movie around them. Devin: Clumsy female lead. Kate: Ugh. Hate that. Devin: "hehe oops, was this OBVIOUSLY EXPENSIVE VASE important?" Kate: Everything in a castle is expensive! Sick sister Devin: Mean kid just wants friendship. Kate: Ugh, the mean kid/friendship one is another pet peeve. Devin:  She goes from "I will kill you in your sleep" to "I trust you implicitly" in, like, a single scene. Kate: The sister warmed up to her in like 4 hours! That's not how it works! Have them bond over something silly right to begin with! Many movies do that well. Devin: If you need them to be friends for the plot, just don't make her mean to start! skip straight to friendship! Kate: Yes! Dead father. Dead mother Devin: Secret adoption Kate: Father who owns a restaurant that you have to go work at. Devin: Shaved his beard and suddenly she thinks he's hot Kate: Oh yes! Secretly not a playboy? Devin: Also he stole her taxi for seemingly no reason. Kate: I didn't really get that bit to be honest. Devin: Just to be a dick? Kate: Yeah, that was such a dick move. That was never addressed and she just forgave completely just because he's a prince. Devin: It's like they couldn't decide until halfway through if they wanted him to be nice or not. Also wanting to bone is not the same as love. Kate: Very true. It seemed like it just went on and on to me. I'd be like, surely this movie is wrapping up soon. And then it kept going. Devin: I definitely shouted at you "dear god look in the acorn!" for a solid hour of that movie Kate: You did. Over and over. You picked up on it the very first scene and you were cooking at the same time! Devin: It was so obviously a box! I have honestly no idea where she got the birth certificate from though. Or how bitchy love rival girl found it. I never learned her name Kate: Oh, so she literally just found the birth certificate in a desk at the lodge they went to after the wolves. It might have been a sort of secret compartment? But not very secret. Devin: lol what? Kate: And then bitchy rival girl searched her rooms. Devin: Rude Kate: Which was a huge invasion of privacy. Devin: If I was a secret reporter I would definitely lock that away. Kate: Right! They were like, spread out on her bed. Devin: Then again a 10 year old cracked her laptop password Kate: hahaha, I forgot that part, so dumb, just so dumb. Devin: She's honestly a terrible reporter Kate: Yeah, plot definitely only gets 2 eggnogs. I mean, she wasn't really a reporter. Devin: She sort of was? Kate: She was an editor who wanted to be a reporter. Devin: Yeah, fair. Kate: But clearly she was better at writing than reporting I would say. Devin: She did get the assignment. Kate: Cause no one else was available! Devin: What percentage of her getting that assignment was her boss hoping the prince would sleep with her? Kate: At least 75% Devin: "You lied your way into the palace? Goooooood. I stuffed some condoms in your luggage. No, no reason. Wink." Kate: OMG! Her boss was such a sleeze. Or at least it felt that way to me. Devin: I mean wasn't it a tabloid magazine? Kate: It must have been. Devin: iZombie was very naive. Kate: Soooooooo naive. How? She's an adult. Devin: A very sheltered adult. Kate: She works for a tabloid! Devin: Ok I think maybe it's final scoring time Kate: Ok, you wrap. Tell me how you feel? Devin: Probably a 3/10 for plot, 8/10 for actor choices, 4/10 for acting, uh, like 2/10 for Christmas-ness, 6/10 for ending? 2/10 for tropes? Kate: I think I’d go a little lower on the ending - 4 gift bags. It was pretty fucking weird, but it did end happy? And that's important in a christmas movie. Devin: It was weird, but I feel like I am very forgiving as long as it's happy. Split the difference and say 5? Kate: Sure, 5 gift bags. Devin: What would you give it overall? Kate: Overall it’s not a movie I would recommend unless you specifically like one of the following: the girl from izombie, movies about fake royal families or .... I can't think of a third thing Devin: Acorns Kate: Or acorns - if you really have a thing for super obvious plot devices, this movie is for you! Overall possibly 4 christmas's I suppose Devin: Aww, so low? Kate: Yeah, sorry. Devin: No you're fine. Kate: How many christmas's would you give the Christmas Prince? Devin: I was thinking a 6. Kate: I think 6 is perfectly acceptable. If you'd given it an 8 I would question. Devin: Never. Kate: Oh no! We forgot to judge the title! Devin: It's a terrible title. 0 sleigh bells. Kate: Yeah, 0 sleigh bells for the title. I think it was so we would realize it was supposed to be a christmas movie. Devin: Probably. The Christmas [Noun] is just so boring. Kate: The Christmas King would have made more sense? Devin: Hmm, I do like the Christmas King better. Kate: Because of the coronation plot line. That we didn't get into at all in this review. But whatever, go watch the movie. Devin: Yeah. Kate: You know it has something to do with acorns. Devin: Or don't watch it. Kate: Or don't.

#a christmas prince #kate and devin review #spoilers

[kiradillinger]

Walking the Death Way

Hello again guys. Today I translated one of my fav original works in English and wanted to share it. I’m very proud of it, and a little upset that I 100% made some awful mistakes in English >_<

I’ll be very glad to listen to some comments from you^^

Words: 3315

Rating: probably T

Genres: m/f, angst, darkfic, POV, everything not so awful I swear

The world is a lousy place. And no one will fucking prove otherwise. The place in which one must cling to life while killing others, will never seem to me beautiful. With a chomping sound, I pulled a sword from man's throat; hot blood dripped into the closed eyes of the murdered. Fool, I gave him so many chances to leave, but he didn't understand, greedily desired my death and trophies from my body. And now he is a corpse, which by the evening will be a food for crows. What a reckless young man. They play justice and chivalry, fearlessly throwing themselves at everyone, whose face they saw on leaflets as "dead or alive." And they die with such a sincere misunderstanding on their face - "how is it, that I lost?"

Because they fought not for life, but for some other worthless values.

I didn't like marauding, and removed from the corpse only a bag of money. Gold coins are not needed to the dead in the other world.

Wiping my sword on my own cloak, I went on wherever my eyes looked, along the road on which I met my unfortunate "death." There were many people like me in these lands. Those who did not bow their heads before the crown, refusing to dedicate their lives to the monarch. Those who were declared enemies of the nation before they had time to understand what had happened.

Those whose families were killed "to the glory of the crown." They were hunting like mad dogs, and even those who had been kind and nice before had to take up weapons to protect themselves, constantly losing the remnants of their former prudence. They were immediately filled with thirst. The thirst for life, revenge, and blood.

My whole family survived. I and my twin brother - we grew up alone, at the orphanage, and were not particularly upset when we saw our portraits on one of the shabby houses. We still had nowhere to go. I swore on my blood and my sword to protect my brother for the rest of my life. Weak from birth and too kind, he could not hurt anyone, even for self-defense. Strong should protect the weak, so I was a shield and a guard for him.

But I could not restrain this oath. I don't know who it was. Who whipped into a bar on the outskirts while I was in the city for an inspection, and who in a few minutes turned the whole building into a bloody mash. I was lucky to be in another place, but my brother fell under another's sword. No drama and the last breath on my hands. Only wide-open dead eyes, a silent reproach from the tormented body.

Before that, we had to hide like rats, but now I wasn't afraid to walk openly in the streets. I was searching. For someone as strong and cruel, and even the city guard couldn't do much with me. Of course, I was caught several times. Caught and tortured, for answers to find out something. However, time after time, I survived and broke free. Scars on my body will not heal and will not disappear, as well as the desire to find the culprit.

Several years have passed since the day I entered the blood-drenched bar, and instead of the bill for the visit I left my humanity there. But the search over and over again led me to a dead end, and I had to start anew, stomping boots and blunting the sword on other people's bones.

The wind blew my hood off me, revealing a weather-beaten and tired face with a long thin scar on the visually weak eye. I was at the next point of my departure. Here he waited for me.

The corpse of the tramp at the door of the tavern was an excellent sign that I had to go there, and I didn't lose. Andrastian was quietly drinking at the bar counter, and his sword, stained with blood, was standing next to him, dirtying a floor.

“Istara?” He inclined his head slightly, without turning to me. “You're late.”

Andrastian was very attentive. He noticed the slightest smells, movements, even fluctuations of air. He was the strongest person I knew.

But he was not the person I looked for.

I said nothing and sat next to him. The barman served cognac. Judging by the smell - not the best, but the other was clearly not there. I drained everything immediately. feeling sadly how easily the liquid passes through my throat. Before, cognac burned, and I coughed for a long time, trying to understand how people generally can drink this. And now it's like water.

"Found it?" Andrastian asked, turning to me. Green eyes looked tired. Not from a long journey, but, rather... From life. It's hard to live when you can never be defeated or even scratched. Therefore, he agreed to search with me, hoping at the end of the path to cross swords with someone as strong as him.

I shook my head.

"As if. You?"

"Me?" He grinned sadly. "I think I'm so sick of everything. Well, you already know this. I found us a small work for us."

Andrastian nodded toward the exit, where a corpse lay next to the doors, and smiled slightly.

Clear.

Andrastian, who hated any derivatives on his name, was a hired assassin. Fast, clean, expensive and cruel. And I... And I just either helped or disturbed. In this ass of the world, where someone incredibly strong does not hide for sure, I can deal with everything alone. But it's boring.

But killing is not something that is very fun. I didn't like blood, its smell caused me a nausea and bright, disgustingly vivid memories. But the realization that with my sword I am clearing this world of assholes, killing their own kind, helped me without hesitation to thrust the sword into someone's body. That evening, we were alone again, among the rivers of blood and a pile of dead bodies. Dirty in the blood from heads to feet, frightening random passers-by with our appearance, we somehow reached the inn, where we quickly washed ourselves off and fell without power, clinging to each other like for the last chance to survive.

He was the first for many years, for which I returned some part of humanity. With him, I could forget, for a moment, what I had to go through, and for what I traveled half the world. But then the past still came back, and even Andrastian couldn't stop my desire to find and cut a throat to the one who stole my family from me. So I always was leaving again, and he just left signs and hints where we could meet next time. The bloody path that always followed him, it was not difficult to track.

We spent days and months together, not getting out of bed for weeks, and did not see each other for half a year, furrowing the opposite ends of the world. Still, always attracted to each other. I did not know if I could stay close when I finished my journey and turned the eternally elusive ghost of my enemy into a material trophy. Perhaps I could calm down and start over again, forever hiding the faithful sword. Thinking about such an outcome, I could not restrain a mocking smirk, addressed to myself. Filling the tart cognac in my throat, I repeatedly laughed at my own stupid dreams that I had, and when I, as a little girl, enthusiastically was telling my brother about what a great family I would have. What kind of husband will I have, how many children and grandchildren will we have? Sometimes, touching a coarsened scar on my eye, I thought - was it worth it?.. For foolish teenagers in sixteen years proudly to raise their heads in front of the guards, claiming that we are free, and do not owe anything to the new monarch? Was it worth, to hide and live half-starving, choking on this "freedom", was it worth to live by accidental earnings, and in the end to take up the sword? The answer always came with another glass.

Of course, it was worth it. This is what we dreamed of in a musty shelter, where there were four beds for ten people, and to get out of the building it was necessary to make our way through rotten boards in the wall. It was the freedom that we dreamed about for many years. And even if for two of us it did not last long, and not like we wanted it, it still was freedom. And to bow your head, publicly repent and tolerate jeers - fuck it. Even with only the half of my heart I could continue to live free.

Andrastian, probably, would understand what I feel if I really wanted this. But I didn't tell. There was no need to try to call to pity, to bury in his shoulder and weep, complaining about fate. He knew that I was looking for someone who took my family away from me, and that was enough for him. He didn't question, didn't insist, and already for this I was very grateful to him.

Did I love him? Can someone who killed dozens of people know something about love? If so, then, perhaps, I loved. But I knew that even in spite of feelings, even if I finish the search, even if he asks me - it will not even be a parody of the family. We slowly, with each new corpse at the feet, lost ourselves, and in the end we would have only lower feelings like lust. Maybe that's why we parted for such a long time - so as not to get bored and not to burn with the desire to cut each other into pieces.

This time we parted quickly, unexpectedly and unusually, after three days. Andrastian left at dawn, leaving me his cloak and note, where and when to wait, until the exact minutes and the exact venue. I carefully folded the piece of paper into my coat pocket, and exactly two long months later I appeared on the main square of the capital at five thirty in the evening, right next to the sagging pillar on which the "traitors" used to hang.

Five minutes later the whole city learned that the monarch had been killed, and the smiling Andrastian was standing on the platform, next to the usual place for public speeches, and was holding a man’s head in his hands, with bulging and bloodshot eyes.

"I dedicate this trophy to my beloved!" He yelled to the whole area, high throwing and catching the head of the already-former monarch. "Maybe this will make you a little happier!"

And he kicked his trophy with all his strength at the stunned crowd; the head reached the feet of the inhabitants of the capital, and only when there was a cry of joy somewhere - people realized what had happened. With loud cries, with tears, they chased the head across the square like a ball, laughing with a wild laugh, and then hoisted it to the highest post and set it on fire.

And I... And I also took part in this, knowing that life became easier not only for me, but for the whole nation, and for the first time in many years, I shed sincere tears and looked for the Andrastian in the crowd. He did not think to hide, just was watching from the roof behind the national celebration. I thanked him for a long time, already croaking with tears and cries of joy, and he pretended that nothing had happened. Then I realized why he was so calm.

Because in a few weeks the neighbors learned about the country without the monarch, and a brutal war began on the territory, everyone wanted to grab a piece of no man's land. People died even more often than before the monarch was killed, but this time was different. Now people took up arms of their own free will, and went to defend the newly acquired freedom.

And we... We watched. Like vultures, waiting for a group of strangers to lag behind a common flock, we ruthlessly flew away and did not take prisoners. For every one killed, for each badge from someone else's neck, the native country paid us a golden coin. And it was wonderful. We seem to have found our place. We danced on other people's remains, circling under a shower of blood, and smiled, as the patients of those hospitals from which people don't come back.

We were together for a long time, until the last enemy camp was burnt to the ground, until the people were sure that the war was over. We celebrated the victory for several weeks, spending the night without sleep drinking and telling stories, and for the first time I told him about my past, but I didn't mention details of that day. I felt a little easier, quite a bit, but it was nice to fall asleep in someone else's hands, feeling the smell of blood and cognac that had already become native.

Was this happiness? Definitely. But someone like us just could not be happy.

"Where did you get such strength?" I asked Andrastian, when once the remnants of the "old school" tried to take our lives right in the middle of a dusty suburban road.

How many times I call him even for comic dueling, he was always two hundred steps ahead, he was faster, stronger, smarter. He was incredible.

"My father." Andrastian thrust his sword into the ground and began to shake off the dirt and splatter of blood. "My father was the captain of the royal guard in the neighboring kingdom. The strongest person in that fucking country was thrown out into the street at the instigation of envious people, funny, huh? We wasn't hunted, but life was not easy. All my carefree childhood I spent studying fencing. My father taught me how to defend myself, keep my sword, beat right. He was cruel, but just. He raised me so that I could survive. Ah," Andrastian laughed and easily threw the sword on his shoulder, "how many times he almost killed me..."

For some time after this we walked in silence, and his expression gradually changed. The eyes turned black, and the aura became alien, unfamiliar, too cold and terrible. Such was at those who slowly conducted a knife edge on my face, wishing to leave me without an eye. I had this aura in the attacks of blind rage.

"I wonder if he would live to see these days... Would he be proud? Most likely would call me a stupid slacker, huh."

I didn't say anything and didn't ask, but Andrastian still decided to continue his thoughts and spoke further, practically spitting out the words.

"He died of poisoning. Seven years, probably, has already passed. Poisoned for a miserable dozen of golden coins. Pitiful cowards didn't even dare to get into a fight, even to hit in the back! They chose poison, the path of slugs. I noticed everything is too late... I was not with my father. Screw me, I don't even remember why I went away from that damned tavern! But I thought that at least I could find out who had done it, to look into his eyes and with to cut his throat. But everyone was silent. The whole bar, like stupid sheep, just looked at the dead old man in my arms and was silent, without telling me who the killer was.”

A chill ran down my spine. Disgusting, sticky.

"Therefore," Andrastian grinned like a mad wolf, looking at me with dull green eyes, "I killed everyone there. I didn't choose. I didn't give a damn. As well as you don't give a damn now, I didn't care who to blame. They paid for their silence. Since then I've been alone. But now I have you."

I looked at him with wide-open eyes, clenching my fists so that the fingernails, which were pressed into my palm, left bloody dents on my skin.

"Seven years ago, on the edge of the town of Etkon, in a two-story bar?"

Andrastian waved off a short "yeah," and walked on, and I remained standing, nailed to the ground with awareness of what was happening. I looked at him in the back, and I realized that life was falling apart for another time, that this fragile construction that I had been anxiously collecting recently, is simply crushed by someone's heavy boot. I looked at Andrastian and laughed with bitter tears in my eyes.

Impossible.

This should not have happened.

This is a dead end.

When Andrastian finally turned to see where I was, I didn’t budge.

"You said you would support me in my search. That you want to fight with the one I'm looking for. I'm sorry, it will not work out." I wiped my eyes with my sleeve, and looked at Andrastian with completely empty eyes. "Because it was you."

Did he fall into apology, ask for forgiveness, or say that he would make amends? Of course not. He closed his eyes, froze for half a minute, then said disappointed "pity" and went on, leaving me behind. Not a single muscle on his face faltered.

Despite our meetings and feelings, we were still every man for himself. He understood that I was not a threat to him, and now I'm not even a lower anymore. I will not bring him to someone strong, because he simply does not exist. I remained a useless load, which it is better to throw out in time before it starts to deliver problems.

I went the other way, without even trying to engage in battle, knowing that after the first stroke my head would be in his hands. It was a sure death, and I promised to live. But this has ceased to be life.

It was... Not even existence. Eternal attempts to drown out pain, feelings and desires. Eternal wandering without purpose. The desire to return everything back, so that there wasn't that conversation. That I never knew the truth.

I had enough for several months before I again found him, with the same sword, with the same smell of blood and cognac on his fingers. He was not surprised or displeased. He met me as a simple acquaintance, treated me with a glass of booze. I looked at him for a long time, trying to understand where I was wrong and why I let my feelings blunt my intuition. Why didn't I suspect in him the one whom so long I was looking for.

Without words, I took his sword by the point and put an end right in front of my heart. I did not have to explain anything - we could read each other, we understood everything by the slightest gestures. That was enough.

He did not hesitate. Did not dissuade. He understood. He whispered to me affectionate words, drank a glass of cognac with one gulp and with force pierced the sword to the very hilt, correctly, as it should, so that it did not hurt. And this time it was the last breath on someone else's shoulder, the way it usually happens.

And I was sure that we will meet again, where we will drive the devils on their fire, where we will force Satan to beg for mercy. I won't meet with my brother, I'm far away from being saint, but I had no doubt in a new meeting with Andrastian. In the meantime, I just could rest and calm down, forgetting for a while about blood and cognac.

#writing #original writing #original work #angst #darkfic #but not much dark I think #T rated #wow I made it #so sorry for the mistakes #I really hope someone will like this

[sorayahigashikata]

Chapter 91: "The right kid's gonna die tonight! I think."

#Paula reads SBR #Chapter 91 #stupid Valentine fetching another stupid Dio #can this race please be over already? #Steel Ball Run spoilers #Part 7 spoilers

[sorayahigashikata]

Chapter 43: "NEEEEEERD!"

#Paula reads SBR #Chapter 43 #HOORAY VIOLENCE #Sandman sighting #EXPLAIN YOURSELF SANDMAN #Steel Ball Run spoilers #Part 7 spoilers