#(​also just. i wanted to make a comparison between her scream in issue 5 and danny’s ghostly wail)

[stars-obsession-pit]

Deadman shuddered as he watched King Phantom’s wail tear through their enemies. He knew they were allies in this battle and he didn’t have to fear him, but it was still unsettling.

Reminded him far too much of his meeting with Rama when he acted against her.

Her scream hadn’t been nearly as directed as Phantom’s, but even so, the power of a god is never something to scoff at. He’d thought his soul was being torn apart. Maybe it was. She’d already revived him once after his first death, who’s to say she couldn’t have done it again?

…did Phantom know Deadman was the product of another god’s meddling, that Boston may never have become a ghost without her intervention? It had occurred before Phantom’s ascension, and the pair had never directly interacted face to face yet. It’s possible he never found out. Even if his power included access to all knowledge about ghosts, gods didn’t necessarily consider all angles fully, so he could still have missed it.

If Phantom found out now, would he care? Deadman knew he wasn’t a normal ghost. Would the king unmake him for being an infringement on his domain? Would he try to “fix” Deadman and just lead to him being under Phantom’s thumb? Or something else?

Perhaps it would be better to avoid interacting with him at all. He was doing fine, it’s not like he needs the king (though a part of his soul rebelled at that thought).

[lotties-ashwagandha]

my full review of hard home bc i have so much to say 🫡 4/5 stars from me just to give an idea of where this is going , spoilers under the cut!

first off i just want to say the amount of angry men in the reviews of this movie is enough to have me content with it all. be mad but middle aged women who revenge-kill evil men will forever be my favorite tv genre and will never fail, not to make it political but this is a movie we need right now. i think this movie was insanely under marketed for what it could have been, there is an audience for it — a woman who kills her daughter’s murderer by locking him in her smart house that she has built and designed herself is radical media compared to the typical young adult white male insanity we’re given in so many other popular murder movies. look at the early scream movies for example and how they compare to hard home: scream is told from the point of view of the victim who is only the victim (sidney), and we know almost nothing about the killer until the end. in hard home, we start out with the point of view of the victim (in the sense that we’re given — mary wasn’t killed, but her daughter was, and we are meant to see her as the target of the killer) BUT it’s established that she’s not just the victim/target of this man, she’s also hunting him and she’s just as much a danger to him as he is to her. it’s established very early on the power that mary holds in this situation, and that she’s taken it herself, it was never given to her.

the representation of mary as a grieving mother (mother mary?? did we all catch that line?) in hard home in comparison to other films also caught my attention. so often we’re fed the narrative of grieving mother who relies on men to soothe her, men to make it better, men to fix things. but in hard home mary takes things into her own hands and tells her husband to go fuck off — no man is fixing her pain, she admits that even she cannot fix her pain, but that she is entitled to retribution and that she’s taking it for herself instead of charging a man with completing it is fucking badass in my opinion. it’s not something that is portrayed as radical or out of the ordinary in the film as well which I think is beneficial. women in hard home are delivered through a lens that encourages the portrayal of women’s strength and denies any dependence on men. whether this was intentional or not I can’t say, but I do find it amazing that this film turned out with such feminist undertones considering the amount of male influence in the production.

mary is not portrayed as insane in this film either. she’s showed as grieving, in pain, and there is a fullness in the narrative due to the background information and depth we are exposed to throughout the movie that compliments the explanation of her motives.

my complaints though! to be really super honest I think the dialogue in the family scenes fucking sucked. it’s my only major complaint with this whole thing, I feel like the dialogue was so forced and just did not fit the rest of the movie’s energy. it’s not an issue of the acting, the actors did what they could with what was given, but I really really would have appreciated more thoughtful and naturally flowing dialogue scenes between characters. they felt unnatural and stereotypical for how a family should converse. in contrast tho, mary’s talking to herself moments and her talking to the killer did feel natural and I thought the scenes of them together were very well done.

another thing I would have appreciated is more dramatic camera shots/angles. maybe some more shots where it’s filtered as if we’re looking through mary’s cameras. call me picky but I want wide shots of mary in front of the house, making it seem big. I want angular close ups, I want to feel unsettled. i want what they did in saltburn or blue jay, where the setting becomes part of the characters themselves through the way the camera settles on them.

overall though, I really enjoyed hard home and I’ll be rewatching it im sure. give me simone kessell cutting out a man’s tongue and setting him on fire any day of the week and im happy. ive been waiting for this movie for so long and it did not disappoint :)

[sirikenobi12]

War & the Jedi

This will be a long meta rant, FYI.

The Jedi Order, specifically the Prequel era Jedi Order, gets a lot of hate these days particularly regarding their involvement in the Clone Wars. Accusations are tossed at their feet constantly ranging from corruption all the way up to warmongering. 

Let’s first look at the Oxford English Dictionary definition of these two accusations, shall we?

Corruption - having or showing a willingness to act dishonestly in return for money or personal gain.

Warmonger - a person who encourages or advocates aggression towards other countries or groups.

The definitions of these two words are so very misunderstood when it comes to relation to the Jedi. If the Jedi are truly “corrupt” then where are the examples of their dishonesty for wealth or personal gain? In fact, I’d argue that canon (and Legends) makes a point to show us that it is the Sith who are in it for personal gain, not the Jedi. The Jedi have absolutely NOTHING to gain from this war on a personal level, in fact they are losing members in terrifying numbers.

The Jedi are also not advocating aggression towards the Separatists, in fact what we see instead is the Jedi DEFENDING against the Separatists. I have yet to see in either canon or legends an instance where the Republic forces invade a Separatist planet who doesn’t have an army or some military involvement (i.e. weapon factories). However, time after time we see the Separatists forcing peaceful planets who want nothing to do with them to either bow to their cause or die (i.e. Ryloth, Lurmen planet, Kiros, Mandalore) the Jedi and Republic Troops will then follow the Separatists to these planets, but they try to do what they can to liberate the planet from the Separaist invasion and then they give the planet the OPTION to join the Republic for safety and economic reasons, but they never force them, as is super evident with Mandalore.

Yet people don’t seem to see this and continue to drag the Jedi through the mud. 

Here are the top 5 other ��woke” takes I hear - 

Jedi are peacekeepers and should not have gotten involved:

 First things first, let’s look at the definition of Peacekeeper - a soldier, military force, etc., deployed to maintain or restore peace. 

I’d argue by that definition the Jedi were still peacekeepers, it’s true that they weren’t a 3rd party as they normally were before the war, but their position was trying to maintain or restore peace. Peacekeeper is not the same thing as a Pacifist, the Jedi were skilled warriors (training from childhood to wield a lightsaber), the difference is Jedi used their skills for defense not attack which is what we constantly saw throughout the Clone Wars. 

With regards to the idea that Jedi “should not have gotten involved” I ask you then what exactly were they supposed to do instead?

 We see at the beginning of Attack of the Clones that the Jedi are worried things will escalate to war, they have obviously gone to the Chancellor hoping that a diplomatic solution can be presented to avoid bloodshed. Or if that isn’t possible then that the Republic have some way to defend themselves other than relying solely on the Jedi (i.e. an army). The Separatists are the ones pushing them to a breaking point, were the Jedi just supposed to stand back and let innocent people be invaded/killed because they didn’t want to get involved? The Jedi were “Guardians of Peace and Justice” which means it was their duty to help bring about peace in the galaxy while also enacting justice. 

Then after Geonosis (where they lost approx. 187 members mind you) they learned that the Sith are leading the Separatist army - the Jedi are duty bound by their code to fight the Sith, they had no choice but to join the war. 

So, I ask again...what were they supposed to do instead?

2.  Jedi used a slave army for their own purposes:

 Okay, I can (and probably will) write a whole argument based on just this accusation alone. There are so many fallacies I don’t even know where to begin but I’ll try. 

I guess my first question is the same as #1, what were the Jedi supposed to do instead with regards to the Clones? 

Technically speaking the Clones didn’t “belong” to the Jedi, they were “property” of the Republic (as stated by Lama Su in Attack of the Clones). In fact, the Jedi Council not only didn’t know about the order, they had vehemently denied Syfo Dias’ earlier request to raise an army in the first place. The Sith KNEW the Jedi would be against it, this was all part of their plan to trap the Jedi (as was EVERYTHING about the war) - they clouded the Force, they literally deleted Kamino from the Archives so the Jedi wouldn’t discover it until the Sith WANTED them to (i.e. Jango just happened to use a Kamino dart?? Come on people). Yoda even states “blind we are if creation of this clone army we could not see” he fully admits they missed it because the Dark Side was clouding their vision. 

Regardless, the army was created, there was no changing that fact. Had the Jedi not taken command of the army do you think the Clones wouldn’t have had to go to war? Do  you actually believe that the Republic who couldn’t get their citizens to give 2 craps about the war would’ve taken up the mantle and fought instead? Do you think if the Jedi were like “thanks, but we didn’t order this” that the Kamioans would’ve just let the Clones go free? 

The answer you’re looking for is...no. 

So, like absolutely everything about the Clone Wars the Jedi did the best they could with the cards they had been dealt. They chose to lead the army on the front lines, putting themselves in just as much mortal danger as the men they were leading. They even sent a member of the Jedi Council to oversee the creation of future clones/training to ensure they were being treated humanely (something the Kamioans thought was ridiculous). They were the first to tell the clones that they were individuals, they constantly put themselves in front of their men to protect them (i.e. season 7 Obi-Wan deflecting the rocket from blowing up his men). The Jedi did what they could, just because we didn’t see on screen Jedi stopping to grieve every time a clone died did not mean that they didn’t care - real life Generals can’t stop in the middle of a battle to grieve over their fallen soldiers either, so why is it we consider it a moral crime if the Jedi don’t?

Another thing I’ll add is once the Jedi had evidence that the Clones were actually ordered by Dooku, did they immediately stop and say “oh hell no, these flesh droids can’t be trusted, we should just have them decommissioned”?? NO! They defended the Clones, stating that they were good men and should be trusted (and look where that trust got them in the end).

The Jedi were forced/coerced to fight this war as much as the Clones were!! Why are we willing to forgive the Clones, but not the Jedi???

3. Ki-Adi-Mundi killing Geonosians was the same as Anakin’s slaughter at the Tusken camp: 

This is another moment where context is everything because there is a HUGE difference between Ki-Adi-Mundi on Geonosis and Anakin in the Tusken camp. The fact that I have to even spell it out makes me wonder how people can even dress themselves in the morning. 

The Geonosians were an opposing military force, attacking Ki-Adi and his troops. Anakin slaughtered unarmed women and children out of vengeance. 

Now, had Ki-Adi turned to his men and screamed “to the catacombs!” brandishing his lightsaber with a murderous glint in his eyes and proceeded to cut down the unarmed bugs below the battle then you’d have an accurate comparison on your hands and I’d be appalled right there with you.

But, as it stands this is not the same thing...not even close.

4. The Jedi sent children to war: 

So, this is a tougher one and I can even understand the concerns behind it, and I even share some of those concerns. The thing I will say to this is, given what we see throughout Star Wars, what constitutes a “child” seems to be different than our own real world definition. 

Padme, for example, was 14 when she was elected Queen, and she wasn’t even the youngest ever elected. She (and her handmaids) were trained as children to defend themselves and their people both politically and in battle (much like Jedi), but you don’t hear people condemning the people/traditions of Naboo the way we see the Jedi being condemned for theirs.

Jedi children arguably mature faster than your standard person, and with regards to Star Wars there are also species’ age ranges to keep in mind. Grogu for example is still a baby at age 50, could it be possible that Ahsoka at age 14 is on the same maturity level as a human in their early twenties due to her Togruta DNA?? We don’t know, it’s never stated other than Anakin saying something about because of her advanced skills he forgets how young she is. 

Obviously Boba Fett is treated like an adult by other Bounty Hunters - no one even questions when he picks up a job and is placed in charge of a group at age 12 or 13 (and he is placed in an adult prison without anyone questioning it). It could be that by law according to Star Wars that 13 is actually considered an adult. Throughout history (and in many different cultures) 13 was when people were considered to be “coming of age”, So, once again we’re placing our cultural biases onto a fictional space fantasy world without realizing it might not even be an issue in that world.  

But even beyond all of that I ask you again - what else should the Jedi have done? 

Their young Padawans would eventually have to grow into Jedi Knights, even before the war by the time they are teenagers they usually followed their Masters on missions (often very dangerous missions) in order to get real world experience. At the time of the Clone Wars the real world they were living in was one at war. If they hadn’t brought their Padawans onto the battlefield how else would they have learned how to strategize, or how to cope with the emotions of battle? They would’ve been ill prepared if the war had continued on for years and years as it had looked like it was going to do...once again, the Jedi had no real choice in this. 

5. The Jedi lost their way because of the war: 

Did they though?? I’d argue they actually didn’t. We first have to ask ourselves what is a Jedi - well, according to the very first time we hear any type of a description about a Jedi they are introduced as the “Guardians of Peace and Justice for the Republic” I don’t see how the war took that away from them. 

The Oxford definition of Guardian is a defender, protector, or keeper. I fail to see how the Jedi stopped being any of these things because of the war.

Here’s the bottom line, the Jedi’s biggest mistake was that they fell for a plot 1,000 years in the making. The Sith spent over a millenia perfecting/hatching this plan, there was nothing the Jedi could’ve done to prevent the war by the time the trap was sprung. As always, I’m not saying the Jedi were perfect (I hate that I have to always specify that when I argue that the Jedi were good), all I’m saying is they tried to do the most good that they could with the situation they fell into - few groups/characters can claim the same thing.

Everyone seems to forget that the Sith controlled BOTH SIDES to that war, there was nothing - absolutely NOTHING the Jedi could’ve done that would’ve changed or won that war. So, instead they saved as many innocent lives as they could and to me, that’s very Jedi. 

[lovee-infected]

So Merlin the goddamn great, smh but no ROOK LORE I AM FURIOUS! I STILL WANT TO HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS

Warning: Spoiler alert!

Oooooofff the final episodes of chapter 5 did seriously explode the fandom I see, from the overblot Grim to our twst Merlin, everything literally everything about the end of this chapter was a big surprise but... This chapter has also brought up a considerably huge wave of drama along with it, which is basically because of Rook voting for RSA instead of NRC. I, personally, considered it to be just a reason to laugh and make a meme or two about this chapter and all. But looking at the fandom, I can clearly see that it's been causing some serious consequences, some fans/creators are leaving the fandom, there has been a couple of offensively worded Rook hate posts (small memes and jokes aren't counted) and there's ever a #RookIsOverParty on Twitter now.

Okay but, it was all cool and chill until it was just a joke. Can't you see? This happens in many fandoms! And is often a good chance to laugh! But...This is getting serious. A huge majority of this fandom (even Rook/Vil shippers and Rook stans themselves) are hating on Rook/Rook stans and fans are leaving, therefore I believe the situation needs to be clarified before it leads to more dramas.

Many of you had also requested a Rook analysis before sooooo- here we go!

First off, this episode did eventually give us a considerable amount of Rook lore although it wasn't as perfect as we wanted it to be. Most of us wanted to get to know him more, but I'd say focusing on all we've got already would do for now. But before that, let's talk about what exactly happened in chapter 5 and why are fand hating on Rook rn:

after the performances are voted on, it’s revealed that nrc lost to rsa by just a single vote. that vote turned out to be rook, who voted for rsa in favor of their own team as he was moved by their spirit. the whole nrc team is shellshocked (of course) and vil faints

it’s also later revealed that rook is one of neige’s biggest fans, possessing albums full of his bromides, going to each meet and greet, and even writing him anonymous fan letters.

Okay okay I know this was quite unexpected and resulted in NRC's loss, but before you say how much of a shitty character Rook is consider this:

1) He was totally honest with his opinion and thoughts.

One of the interesting facts regarding Rook's character design and presence in chapter 5, is how he played the role of both the huntsman and the mirror.

He was honest with his beliefs and decision, although it was against his friends. Just as how the mirror introduced Snow White as the fairest one of all although Evil Queen didn't want to hear of her.

This is also what Rook did, he judged based on his idealistics towards beauty. NOT because he's a screaming Neige fanboy and NOT because he disliked Vil.

Honestly, if there's one person whose judgement would be strong and on point, that'll be Rook and only him; in parts (2) & (4) we'll explain why.

2) His decision has nothing to do with his personal relationship with Vil!

Yes, he voted for RSA, but to assume that this means he secretly preferred Neige over Vil all this time and call him a betrayer now, that's wrong.

Look, if there one person who could judge NRC's process through the training sessions fairly, that'll be Rook. He's been there all this time, watching each and every second of Vil's coaching and team's progressing, note that he also helped Vil the most, this performance would've been impossible without his help!

But, he was also there when Vil lost it, when Vil's fear of not being the winner took over him and made him even try to poison Neige. At some point Vil was nothing like the perfect coach he was at the very beginning, and if Rook hadn't told Neige to escape who knows how terrible the whole think might've gone.

His decision, on the other hand, was HIS decision. He was asked to choose one performance, and he chose what he liked; that's all, no big deal. Note that the silly thing with the whole issue isn't mainly how Rook voted for RSA, it's also about how half of the audience as well voted for RSA which makes it sound almost stupid, this point will be explained in part (5)!

3) Have you all really forgotten what Rook is like?

I mean, come on this is what he is in general! This is Rook Hunt we're speaking of, one of the rarely known characters of the game and mister of surprises and unpredictable decisions!

Him being a Neige fan is no big deal, and I assure you, he probably stans a lot of other people else than Neige too. Don't forget that this is the same monseiur Rook who gave 100 points! to anyone who participated in NRC's VDC test, so there shouldn't really be a panic taking all over the fandom just because we know he stans Neige, Rook is one to greatly appreciate the concept of beauty in general, and Neige is one of the most famous and beautiful people in the whole twisted wonderland, so other than this being much of a snow white reference, it was totally expected to see him stanning Neige as well. Keep this in mind that just because he's a fan of Neige, it doesn't mean that he hates or he has betrayed Vil.

In Rook's point of view, there is no such thing as rivals in beauty, he just appreciates both Vil and Neige's beauty regardless of what's going on between them.

4) This chapter proved that Rook is indeed a perfect friend for Vil.

While there hasn't ever been a mention of a canon relationship between Vil and Rook, shipper may be happy to know that this episode didn't sink the ship at all. And if you judge and see through what happened in the right eye, you'll see it even shows how strong their friendship is.

Note that this wasn't the first time Rook criticizes Vil either, back in Vil's SR lab coat story he openly criticized Vil and said he's gonna get fat if he continued to eat like this. See? Rook never the once lied to Vil, he openly judges him, and his judgements are logical and on point.

Vil on the other hand is always working his hardest to improve, to become better and completer by each and every day that passes. He needs such a friend by his side to judge him nonetheless, a friend to judge him just like the mirror judged the Queen. But there's a difference, Vil accepts and appreciates criticism BECAUSE, he wants to improve.

A friend like Rook is seriously what he needs, Rook supported and helped him all the way as RSA was getting prepared for VDC, he could've just made them lose and by ruining their training sessions if he wanted to! Can't you see? He helped Vil more than anyone else, but didn't lie to him when it was the time to judge. Vil still has a long way to go, and Rook is aware. He wants Vil to see that he isn't yet complete so that he can become better than he already is.

That's it, that's what a real friend would do.

5) Twst needs to be more considerative toward story line and sudden reveals.

On the one hand, it's mainly fans who are exaggerating the whole issue and starting drama over a simple voting and all, but twst itself as well is partly guilty. This is such a huge and active fandom, each and every detail about the story can be super effective (ex: Sebek being half human, Malleus being an orphan, etc). After making RSA's Yahoo performance look super silly they worst thing they could do was to make NRC lose like this, meaningless, silly and helpless. Why?

Twst seriously needs to take details more seriously as they could've AT LEAST made this comparison sound reasonable by choosing a better and stronger song than a twisted version of Heigh-Ho.

There's absolutely nothing wrong with Rook voting for Neige, but seriously? Rook voting for Neige had to be a symbol of honesty and Rook's loyalty toward the concept of beauty itself and not Vil, not an stupid decision to make Rook prefer a childish song over NRC's wonderful performance and look like a helpless Neige fan boy.

-Sigh- Well, I guess that's all I had for now, hope I didn't miss anything. But anyway, the Rook drama is slowly getting overwhelming. There's nothing wrong with memes and jokes AS LONG AS THEY'RE JUST A JOKE- offending characters with clear intention and causing drama because of it is not okay. I know that was unexpected please remember not to exaggerate the story too much either!

[9tzuyu]

children of tragedy (rewrite)

note: heyo, rewriting an old fic of mine. i hope to be able to rewrite all 5 chapters quickly. if you guys don’t like it, i won’t continue because its kinda dark and idk i feel like no ones gonna like it anyways. please leave feedback though, im on my knees begging for validation. also sorry if its ooc, please forgive me.

++ sorry the beginning reveals how rusty my writing is </3

(*** i wrote this as as a fem reader fic because it worked easier with how i wrote things.)

+ please remember that this is purely a way to get out my own feelings/struggles in a healthy way. also i’m sure this works better as a ship fic, but someone asked for this version so yeah :).

** mistakes are mine im too tired and lazy to proofread right now.

warnings: talk of alcohol abuse, slight mention of domestic abuse.

🏷 @peggycarter-steverogers

ch.2 | ch.3

[love, fragility, and the memories that eat us alive.]

meeting wanda changed everything for you. she wasn't like anyone you’d ever known. she was always kind, never quick to lose her temper or scream and yell at you for things you couldn't possibly control. she was warm, tender with everything she did.

your relationship with her was very new to you. it was much different in comparison to your past experiences — and you weren't quite sure what to think of it. there was no doubt that you appreciated her and everything she did for you, but you were still waiting for her to snap. it was almost like a need burning throughout your body. being able to grasp the idea that someone could ever really, truly be gentle with you was out of the question. in turn, you’d push all of her buttons, hoping that she would get mad enough and get it over with.

no one could really fault you for it. the steady stream of abuse was the nearly the entirety of your life, both physical and mental.

lately wanda was having to pick you up from wherever she could find you, most of the time in the alleyways of of bars you’d been kicked from.

once you were drunk enough (anyone really) you weren’t afraid to say the first thing that came to your mind, offensive or not – which meant it was no surprise when you’d been involved in fights. the alcohol numbed a majority of the pain anyway, so didn’t really make much of a difference to you.

with this happening so many times, you figured wanda would be angry with you – perhaps so angry she would find it within her to hit you. but each and every time wanda brought you home, she made sure you were comfortable before tending to your inuries.

what you didn't know was that being so worried for you all the time, every second of everyday, was beginning to take a toll on her. wanda only wanted to fix you, but you were making it more than difficult for her to do that.

she knew very little about your past, simply because you didn't like talking about it and she didn't want to push. but there was no denying the fact that wanda was curious.

sometimes she would ask questions, only between the soft moments the both of you shared. much to her dismay, most of her curiosities were turned down. on the rare occasions you shared brighter memories of your childhood, wanda would bookmark them in the back of her head.

no harm would ever come from her, but you didn’t know that. at least not right now.

too many times had your exes used the trust you’d so politely given against you. to be fair with wanda though, you shared only the brightest parts of your childhood. they were very seldom, but the ones you could remember were the ones you enjoyed talking about the most. 

despite her limited knowledge, it wasn’t hard for her to tell that you’d already been hurt plenty of times before. apart from the fact that wanda was overall truly a good person, it made her even more gentle with you than she’d ever been with anyone before. 

on top of that, wanda wasn’t stupid. she picked up on every little flinch you tried to hide, or the times you had to ask her if it was okay if you could do something on your own free will, and she definitely didn’t forget about the countless times you berated yourself over small, humanly mistakes. a frown never failed to decorate her face when these things happened. 

wanda tried her hardest to make it known how much she loved you, and how she would never intentionally hurt you. she never once lifted a hand on you or raised her voice in the slightest, even when she felt like she’d met a breaking point.

the last few weeks seemed to be putting more stress on her than usual. the gashes on your body seemed to be cutting deeper and the bruises on your jaw and rib cage were beginning to turn a darker shade of indigo as each fight became more aggressive. your knuckles had been swollen, irritated to the point your hands trembled when your palms were held open.  

you completely missed how drastically wanda’s mood had changed. she became quiet, seemingly lost in thought most of the time until she needed to take care of you. she grew tired, a purple tint claiming a spot below the lip of her eyes. fifteen pounds of weight had shredded from her body and her head grew dizzy every time she stood up. none of that mattered to wanda though, you were her number one priority.

alcohol was the biggest issue in the way. if wanda could get you to stop drinking for just one night she might be able to reason with you. 

the brunette knew that was out of the question though, because she knew no matter how many times she told or expressed her love for you, you wouldn’t stop until you wanted to, not when she wanted you to. 

you never allowed yourself to be vulnerable around her, so she never knew how you truly felt about the things going wrong in your life. there was an unbearable amount of pain when it came to confronting what you tried so hard to push away. the idea of allowing yourself to heal, to mourn the things taken away from you caused a lump in the back of your throat. living in denial was the easiest way to cope - that was as long as you could bear the damage it created.

 (and whether wanda knew it or not, knowing that you were causing her so much misery was the worst feeling you’d ever faced. all she had ever given you was love and in return she was met with destruction.)

so once again you found yourself walking alone, a slight stagger between steps. it was cold, each breath exhaled from your lips could be seen vaporizing into the air. every movement ripped what balance you thought you’d gained right out from underneath you. the feeling of numbness in your fingertips brought your attention away from the fact that you didn’t know where you were. 

the buildings all looked familiar, but everything was hazy. being drunk wasn’t always the fun everyone bragged about. too tired to carry on, you found yourself slumped in the back of an alleyway next to a dirty garbage bin. it reeked of sour, expired food, but you’d given up on caring about anything else other than trying to drink yourself numb. 

your mind began to wander. flashes of early mornings with wanda’s hands wrapped around your waist, breath tickling the back of your neck while the sun began to rise started filling your thoughts. the warm feeling wanda gave you outweighed every bad emotion you could possibly think of.

but as you stared at the ground beneath your feet things began to spiral. your throat contracted, the guilt you tried so hard to swallow began clawing its way out of your body.

(and holy fuck you could not deal with this right now.)

you curled your head between your legs in an attempt to shield yourself away from something that was born from the inside.

it was too much.

without a chance to stop what was happening, your stomach began heaving. a mix of bile and alcohol drooled from your mouth as you continued to vomit.

you missed the sound of footsteps coming from behind you. the feeling of a hand on your shoulder caused you to jerk back, slamming your back into the brick wall.

“hey, hey, it’s me. you’re okay. it’s just me, wanda.” she cooed.

through teary eyes, you looked up at the woman in front of you.

she’s your girlfriend.

(but you weren’t sure that you deserved to call her that after everything you’ve put her through.)

“what are you doing here?” your voice wavered as you wiped your mouth free of excess vomit. you sniffled backing away from her.

she tilted her head, desperate to read what your eyes would give away. “i’m here to bring you back home. can you stand up for me?” you shook your head. you were too exhausted and dizzy from the alcohol to even think about standing.

“that’s okay,” she whispered. “here, i’m going to pick you up, okay? wrap your arms around my neck and your legs around my hips.”

“mkay.” your speech was still slurred, but at that point all wanda cared about was getting you home safe.

you didn’t remember the ride home or wanda carrying you out of the car to lay you on the couch. by the time she got the supplies she needed to wrap and tend to your wounds, you were completely passed out.

when you woke up you were greeted with a glass of water and an over the counter pain medication. you swallowed the pills and moved to set the glass on the coffee table, but wanda beat you to it and took it out of your hands. she smiled down at you, taking a seat next to you. she tucked your hair behind your ears, giving your face one last gentle stroke.

thats when you noticed her eyes were red.

you immediately sat up, crossing your legs and moved closer to her. you’d hoped to comfort her somehow, but the shake of her head broke sonething inside you.

you bit your lip, anxiety shooting throughout your body. she sensed your nervousness and took your hands in hers, rubbing circles on the outside of your wrist with her thumbs.

“i love you, you know that. at least i hope you do,” she let out a soft laugh. “but i can’t keep doing this.”

your heart dropped, and you could feel the all too familiar feeling of guilt building its way back up. you tried to speak, but wanda cut you off.

“i need you to hear this.”

when you didn’t respond she took the opportunity to continue saying what she needed to get out.

“i have exhausted myself to a breaking point. i can’t keep worrying about you every single night you’re gone. i can’t be there every time you need saving. i’m losing myself.”

she paused to check and see how you were handling her words. for once you weren’t shutting down. you were genuinely trying to process what she was trying to say.

(and she was so proud of you for that. she almost considered giving you another chance. but she knew for the better, she couldn’t do that. not to you, not to her.)

“i’ve packed your things. you can leave tomorrow morning if you wish, i don’t mind having you for another meal or two.”

she squeezed your hands and got up from the couch, allowing you to take in what she said. it was in that moment when you realized that even when she’d finally drawn the line, had enough, she didn’t yell at you. she wasn’t angry, she was just sad.

you were chasing after something that wasn’t there, and it never would be there.

and now you were able to register just how much you’d fucked up the one good thing in your life.

[monsterywriting]

Maledos - pt 1

masterlist

This is a rewrite. Read the original parts here, here and here

word count: 7,381 (!!!)

AN: i have really wanted to finish this story, but the original wasn’t really well planned out (and reading my old writing was :/) SO i decided to make one GIANT rewrite of the originals and continue from there. i mostly added on to what was already there with some minor changes so the story would make more sense and just add some extra bits :) the originals will be taken off the master list but will still be linked here.

Everything burned as you raced through the streets of your neighborhood, frantically searching for your dog. Your legs and lungs were screaming from the workout you’d only just finished and your eyes stung with the threat of tears from your panic.

Of course Pumpkin would take off after the two of you had just come back from running on the park trails, only seconds away from entering the safety of your apartment building when a car backfired nearby and scared her.

You called her name out in desperation, though you knew she was probably long gone from the area. You had only just moved into the city recently and neither her or you were familiar enough with the area to not get lost.

You bit your thumbnail anxiously. Pumpkin wouldn’t last a minute out on the streets by herself, exposed to the elements. She was sensitive, scared of her own shadow when it was cast on a wall. Not to mention, the weather forecast for the night called for thunderstorms, dark clouds already gathering overhead to block the afternoon sun.

“Hey, kid, need some help?”

You almost don’t realize the stranger is talking to you, too preoccupied in your own worry to pay much attention to your surroundings. Once you do, however, you’re too relieved at the display of kindness to correct the tiefling that you were actually an adult.

Your potential savior towered over you, well over 6’ even without including his horns that curled back over his head, average for a tiefling but giant in comparison to your short figure. His skin was a fiery red and he was dressed in all black - a nice dress shirt tucked into slim-fitting trousers that accentuated his buff figure nicely. The most striking part of his outfit, however, was the leather biker jacket with an unfamiliar emblem of a stag surrounded by brambles. Had you been in your right mind, you may have also taken in his short-cropped black hair, bright yellow eyes, strong nose and jawline, nice full lips - in short, handsome, model-like, statuesque, hot, all terms you may have used to describe him if you weren’t preoccupied with finding your dog.

He also looked fairly annoyed with you, though you decided to attribute it as his resting face since he had obviously taken the time to come out of his way to stop and help you.

“Uhm- yes, my dog, Pumpkin,” you explained breathlessly, hardly able to focus as you continued to look around for a familiar flash of fur, “she took off while I was unlocking my apartment building’s door! We just got back from the park!”

Maledos appraised the tiny human with an eyebrow raised. He was still debating whether to actually go out of his way for you, his question more rhetorical than anything else, expecting the person to wave away a stranger rather than roping them into their problem.

Based on the owner, however, he figured ‘Pumpkin’ was a chihuahua. Or a Pomeranian; something small and fluffy that surely couldn’t have gotten far. It wouldn’t take long to find the little rascal, so he didn’t mind potentially being a few minutes late to work.

“I’ll walk with you and help you look,” he offered. You certainly didn’t look like you were a resident of the neighborhood, and at the grateful look you gave him as you eagerly accepted, you had probably been worried about wandering around the predominantly orcish neighborhood alone.

Maledos came to regret not minding his own business, however, as those few minuets stretched into an hour of searching every single alleyway, dumpster and parked car they came across and he had long since missed the window to get out of this mess. Valbaugh was definitely going to kill him once he finally showed up. 

You, on the other hand, were laser-focused on finding your dog, nervously looking up at the darkening sky every so often and hoping that she was hunkered down somewhere and not running in the busy intersections.

After entering yet another alley while you checked under parked cars, Maledos squatted down to look under a store’s dumpster, careful not to get his shoes or pants in any of the unidentifiable dumpster juice leaking from a crack in the metal but eventually forced to place his hands on the pavement to peer underneath the gap, internally cursing at the definite crease in his leather shoes. He stood up, glancing down the mostly empty alley and catching a glimpse of brown fur disappearing behind some smaller trashcans.

Praying its your dog and not a stray so he can leave, Maledos approaches, intent on grabbing the dog and swiftly returning it to you. Moving the trashcan and expecting to see a tiny fluff ball, his gaze was instead met with that of a giant pitfall, its expression decidedly murderous. Its muscles flexed impressively underneath its reddish-brown pelt and its studded pink leather harness only added to the fearsome image before him. He scrambled out of the way, about to yell at you to run when you suddenly let out a screech and called out Pumpkin’s name again, this time in joy, crouching down and holding your arms open.

The pit ran past him and barreled into you, nearly knocking you over with the force of the collision. Standing up, you lifted Pumpkin with barely a grunt - an impressive feat in and of itself - and peppered her face with kisses as Maledos stood awkwardly out of the way of the touching reunion. 

Finally setting the dog down, you grabbed the leash that had been trailing behind her and began thanking Maledos profusely as the two of you walked down the street and back to your starting point.

“Thank you again,” you repeated as you walked your now definite savior, sincere in your gratitude even if he’d been a grouch the entire time, “I only moved here a month ago and I was so worried I’d get lost!”

You gestured to the specific building down the road, evidently having no issue with telling him your address. In fact, the entire time Maledos had been with you alone in isolated parts of the neighborhood, you didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the fact that he, a complete stranger, may well have been a serial killer.

But more pressingly, Maledos realized the apartment building you pointed to was his own. Another surprise - you were apparently his neighbor.

As Maledos tuned out your rambling, he took the time to fully examine you. You obviously weren’t a little kid as Maledos had originally thought, but were incredibly short - you couldn’t be more than 5’. You were dressed in workout clothes, which was to be expected if you had just left the park as you told him. You spoke animatedly, your eyes and facial expression giving away every fluctuation in emotion while your hands waved about, even as he didn’t pay attention, he could guess you were recounting the moments leading up to you losing your dog - who was walking calmly in between you and him with her tongue lolling out the side of her mouth, seemingly the exact opposite of her spaz of an owner.

“I just don’t know how to repay you,” you finished as you finally reached the front of the apartment building, gulping down a deep breath before looking expectantly at Maledos.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said gruffly, continuing down the street in the direction he’d originally been going before the over hour-long deviation from his routine. Glancing at the time, he realized just how much time had elapsed and cursed under his breath, Valbaugh no doubt fuming at the bar.

“Well, I hope to see you around!” You called after him, certain he didn’t catch your name even as you shouted it as loudly as you dared in a residential neighborhood.

Maledos doesn’t turn around, not bothering to acknowledge your friendliness, knowing you wouldn’t last long in the neighborhood - no matter how tough your dog looked.

You, meanwhile, turn to look down at Pumpkin, the dog whining as she pulled on her leash to go inside. You quickly acquiesce, rushing to unlock the door just as the first raindrops began to fall on the sidewalk where you’d just been standing.

It wasn’t until after you reached your apartment and threw yourself on your bed in exhaustion that the gravity of the entire situation hit you. You could have lost Pumpkin for far longer than the time it took to find her had that tiefling not found her. And only now did you realize you never caught his name, though as you hugged Pumpkin close in your bed with emotional tears streaming down your face, you felt incredibly indebted to him, whoever he was.

You don’t remember falling asleep like that, though you must have as you’re forcibly shaken awake by your roommate facedown on your bed with your shoes still on your feet hanging off the edge and Pumpkin stretched out along your side. In your surprise, you suddenly shot up, effectively scaring the daylights out of Kharza, which in turn scared Pumpkin passed out next to you.

Checking your phone, you were shocked to find it was already 4 o’clock in the afternoon and outside your window the storm was in full force, the occasional rumble of thunder in the distance as giant raindrops sounding like hail pelted the windows.

Kharza flicked your forehead and pouted as her other hand reached over to scratch Pumpkin’s ear to soothe her, “Don’t scare me like that! What the hell happened to you? I’ve been calling you all afternoon.”

“Pumpkin got spooked by some car backfiring today and took off,” you explained, apologizing before getting into the whole spiel of what had transpired, wondering just how much to reveal to Kharza of the grumpy tiefling who came to your aid in case it made for an awkward interaction later, “Somebody did stop and help me, though. I don’t know if he lives nearby but if it wasn’t for him I probably wouldn’t have found Pumpkin.”

Kharza’s expression had grown increasingly grim as she absorbed the story, concerned about what could have happened to either one of you while running around the city’s busy streets alone. Rather than lecture you for not being more careful when you were so clearly shaken up about what had happened still, Kharza instead turned to Pumpkin and mock-scolded her in a baby voice, making you laugh at Pumpkin getting excited by Kharza’s tone alone.

You’ve known the half-orc since you were both in diapers, growing up in the same small town together - and keeping in touch even after she went to college in the much larger city - meant that she knew how important Pumpkin was to you and exactly what you needed to relieve the tension you felt.

“I’m glad you found her quickly,” Kharza said as she got up and walked to your bedroom door, “but hurry up and jump in the shower. We’re going out for drinks tonight.”

“What about the rain?” You asked, looking out the window at the seemingly endless torrent. You couldn’t even see the street below through the thick sheet of rain.

“I already checked the weather. It should be done by 7 so we can head out at 10,” Kharza insisted confidently, “I need a drink after being called in on a Saturday and you need to get out of your little new resident bubble. Bring out the party animal you from our high school days, huh?”

You chuckled along at the memory, somewhat embarrassed but acquiescing with her invitation out, knowing that despite coming out as a demand, she would have no problem if you declined. You supposed Kharza was right in that you had been in something of a slump since moving to the city and away from home - not going anywhere besides your job, the park with Pumpkin and the apartment. You didn’t know anyone here, and hadn’t really made the effort to get to know them.

You thought once you started your job you could get to know your co-workers, but the office you worked at was much larger than you thought and the cubicles kept everyone fairly separate, making it hard for you to really get friendly with anyone. Tonight would be the perfect opportunity for you to meet Kharza’s other friends and perhaps make some of your own.

Still, you were apprehensive standing in front of your closet wrapped only in your towels just hours later. It had taken you hours to convince yourself that Pumpkin would be okay alone, the thunderstorm long past and snoring loudly on your bed after going out to use the bathroom, and now you couldn’t help but agonize over what to wear. On one hand, it was your first time going out with Kharza in a long while and you wanted to go all out. On the other, you didn’t want to be stuck wearing uncomfortable clothes all night long.

Finally, you decided to go halfway, picking out a nice top but comfortable jeans, nice shoes but slipping an extra pair of sneakers into your bag just in case. Once you’re satisfied with your pick in clothes, you decided to leave your hair as it was out the shower, only blowdrying it briefly without brushing it out.

With your outfit complete, you grabbed your bag and keys and went out into the living room where Kharza was waiting to head out, though not before you both hyped the other’s outfit. She thankfully also went with a more casual outfit, wearing a pink crop top with a short jean skirt and black heeled boots. Her long, dark hair flowed down her back in loose waves, untamed but not entirely wild, which it usually was when she took it out her work braid. Kharza had been in the process of putting on her jean jacket to complete her look when you exited your room, and as soon as she was ready, you both left.

“What’s the name of the place again?” You asked as you both walked down the empty sidewalk looking for what Kharza claimed was ‘the best bar in town’ and ‘just down the street.’

“The sign doesn’t really match the name, but it’s named after the owner,” Kharza explained, directing you to cross the street at an intersection, “Mal’s.”

You heard the place before you saw it, the patio completely full even after the sudden rain left everything drenched. Though what made your drop was when you approached and recognized the sign, the familiar crest with the stag surrounded by brambles.

You kept your mouth shut, however, as Kharza led you inside through the crowd to a large corner filled with people of all kinds - a couple of orcs and elves, a satyr and a dryad who jumped up smiling and immediately enveloped you in a hug as Kharza introduced you to everyone else.

After brief introductions, you and Kharza head to the bar and you somehow managed to order your favorite beer from the absolutely colossal orc bartender despite the place being completely hammered.

Once you both return to the booth cradling your drinks, you get settled at the edge across from Kharza, you quickly get comfortable, engaging in the conversation with ease, the coincidence of the sign slipping from your mind as you laughed along with everyone.

Kharza always said you had a knack for making friends ever since you insisted on being her friend even when everyone else in kindergarten was wary of her as a half-orc and even went so far as to convince everyone else in your class that she was quote - the coolest and prettiest friend ever. However, tonight you had to attribute your easy assimilation with Kharza’s city friends to her having apparently talked their ears off about you, her best friend back home - including the story of how you became friends. A nice circle, you thought.

Less than an hour later, a familiar face appeared from the midst of the crowd, making you freeze in the middle of listening to the dryad, Nitidea, talk at length about their day. The newcomer squeezed in next to you, making you freeze where you were. Everyone in the group shouted over the crowd to greet the person next to you, all of them referring to him as Mal.

You don’t look up, caught by surprise and stunned into silence at the sudden appearance of the tiefling you met only a couple hours earlier with the most sour expression you’d ever seen on anyone now smiling so widely you were nearly blinded by his sharp, pearly whites. You do note that the smile does falter once his eyes finally met yours as ‘Mal’ realized not only was he sitting right next to you, but the arm he’d so carelessly draped around the person next to him was also you.

“So you were the new roommate Kharza’s been talking about,” Maledos said quietly, recovering from his initial shock with record speed once the rest of the table’s conversation shifted back to what it had been before he arrived, carefully taking his arm off you and pretending to reach for his drink while flashing a quick smile to everyone else, “I wasn’t expecting you to be…”

“Human?” You chuckle as you took a small sip of your own beer, not wanting to get buzzed too quickly, “and I wasn’t expecting the person who went out of their way to help a stranger look for their lost dog to be named Mal.”

“Maledos,” he clarified just a little too quickly, thanking the gods above that he was too red to noticeably blush as you laughed, though he wasn’t sure why he was so damn nervous in his own bar, though he suspected it may have something to do with the intensity of the stare Kharza was giving him from the other side of the table.

“Thanks again for today, I really do appreciate it,” you turn serious for a brief moment, noticing Maledos’ discomfort, which you presumed to be from how standoffish he’d been when you first met, deciding to try and ease the tension now that you apparently had mutual friends.

Giving Maledos one last nod of appreciation, you turned to rejoin the booth’s conversation, the tiefling soon loosening up as well as you pointedly didn’t make a big deal out of his entirely different demeanor. 

Most of the group had never lived outside of the city and urged you to tell them more about living in “the country” since Kharza only ever went on about how boring it was - downplaying just how wild it could be growing up in a small, half-suburb-half-farmland town could be when kids were left to make their own fun.

As you were in the middle of telling your highly engaged audience about the specifics of the after-prom house party at one of the football players’ houses your senior year, the bartender appeared and quietly extracted Maledos from the group. You glanced up as he left, conscious of the sudden loss of the body next to you but continuing the story with Kharza inputting her own memories of the event.

Some indiscernible amount of time later, you found yourself struggling to get through the crowd and to the bar to order another beer for yourself. Once you finally are able to get the bartender’s - Valbaugh, you overhear a nearby patron call him - attention and get your order in, you noticed Maledos a few feet away talking with another group of people, once again amazed by how different he could be, though you supposed since he was at work he couldn’t exactly be Mr. Resting Bitch Face, an assessment you were now comfortable with making now that you knew that wasn’t how he normally looked.

Just as you paid for your drink and were about to turn away with it, Maledos glanced up and you both made eye contact. You smiled and gave a small wave with your free hand, but instead of returning the gesture, Maledos said something to the people he was talking to and began walking over to you. Neither one of you spoke as Maledos ordered a whiskey and when he gave no indication that he was going to speak while you both drank, you finally decided to break the silence yourself.

“You need that stiff a drink to talk to me?” You quipped, already kicking yourself mentally as it seemed to have the opposite effect than you intended, Maledos attempting to explain himself rather than lightening the mood, “I was kidding, Mal. This isn’t a interrogation.”

“Right,” Maledos cleared his throat, downing the rest of his drink, “Sorry, I’m not usually- I just really didn’t expect to see you again, much less with my friends. No offense.”

“None taken. I get it,” you smile, truly not offended as you figured that was just Maledos’ personality with with people he wasn’t close to, deciding to extend the olive branch of friendship first, “So… Kharza tells me you’re the mysterious neighbor I’ve never seen around the apartment before.”

“Yeah, I’m usually here all night and just knock out once I get home,” Maledos finally relaxed, falling into easy conversation with you once he imagined he was speaking to a potential regular customer, “I come and go at odd hours, so most people with normal work schedules wouldn’t exactly run into me.”

“I’m not envious of the all nighters but it sounds nice to have days for yourself,” you marveled, “so how’d you decide you wanted to own a bar?”

“I inherited it from my mom, actually. It’s named after her, too,” Maledos explained, handing his empty glass to Valbaugh and holding up two fingers, “When she opened it, the city was still pretty segregated between the different races. She wanted to have a space that was a neutral zone.”

“Well, it definitely fits the vision she had,” you smile, turning in your chair to take a full look at the diverse crowd in a new light.

“Well, what about you?” Maledos inquired.

“What about me?”

“Why the sudden switch to big city living?” He pressed, “I mean, I get Kharza’s old roommate sucked but that’s hardly a reason to move halfway across the country.”

“You’re right,” you snort, “I was already offered a job here when Kharza told me she needed a new roommate. The pay’s good and the rent was in my budget, so I decided to just bite the bullet and come out here—”

“With Pumpkin,” Maledos finished, chuckling as you beamed at him and nodded enthusiastically in agreement. You had a nice smile, he thought offhandedly, “I’m not gonna lie - seeing that giant dog when I was expecting a chihuahua almost gave me a heart attack.”

“A chihuahua?!” You feigned indignation, the corners of your lips threatening to turn up into a smile, “I’ll have you know a lady of my stature needs a dog to match.”

At that, Maledos burst out into laughter as he commented you probably had to scale the bar stool you were sitting on when you sat down, which finally broke your own serious expression and you both were laughing uncontrollably. The rest of the night passes in a blur, you and Maledos talking at length about anything and everything with only occasional interruptions as other patrons of the bar came to say goodbye to Maledos before leaving.

“I was totally surprised to find out you were so talkative… and smile-y,” you admitted, only a little tipsy after cutting yourself off on your third beer since sitting down, “I mean, you hardly said two words to me all afternoon.”

“Yeah, I’m kind of an asshole before people get to know me, or so I’m told,” Maledos admitted, slightly embarrassed that after making so many assumptions about you, he was now actually enjoying an entire conversation with you.

At some point, Kharza comes looking for you, everyone else heading out. The orc was giving you a familiar look, one you pretend not to recognize or notice. You were shocked you’d spent so long talking to Maledos after telling everyone you were just going to buy a single beer. Maledos glanced down at his watch, looking just as dumbfounded as you.

“Shit, it’s already closing,” Maledos frowned, “Valbaugh, why didn’t you announce last call?”

“I did,” the bartender replied, rolling his eyes, though the grin on his face indicated he wasn’t truly annoyed as he added teasingly, “I guess you were too preoccupied to notice.”

You and Kharza burst out laughing as Maledos’ tail, which had up until then been lazily swishing behind him, stood straight up as he began sputtering indignantly.

“Well, we’re going to head out,” Kharza said, dropping her hands on your shoulder and about to lead you away from the bar when something finally dawns on you.

“Oh, since we’re neighbors we should exchange numbers!” You said quickly, rummaging around in your bag for your phone and completely missing the looks Valbaugh and Kharza shot Maledos.

“Don’t feel too special,” Kharza warned sarcastically, “she also got Ms. Lalshur’s and Mrs. Umekrana’s numbers the first week she moved in.”

Valbaugh snorted, but Maledos’ pointed ears perked up at the second name, “I understand Ms. Lalshur, she talks to everyone… but I’ve lived there for almost five years and Mrs. Umekrana hasn’t said more than ten words to me. And they were ‘quit making all that fucking racket on the stairs every night’.”

You bite back a smile at the jab at your cranky neighbor, handing Maledos your phone so he could add his number to your contacts and taking his offered phone in return, “she’s nice once you get to know her. But it didn’t hurt that I was able to fix her sewing machine for her the day I met her…”

After saying your final goodbyes to both Maledos and Valbaugh, you and Kharza walked back to your apartment, Kharza wasting no time interrogating you about your apparently two hour long conversation with the tiefling as soon as you exited the bar. What did you two talk about? Did he pay for your drinks? Was he flirting with you? And, most importantly, do you like him?

You barely manage to keep up with the barrage of questions, and the last question nearly makes you choke on your own spit at its abruptness. As far as Kharza knows, you’ve only just met Maledos tonight at the bar, and while it is too soon to discern any deeper feelings, you can’t deny that you had fun spending time with him, or that he was incredibly attractive. However, you reason, it wasn’t ideal to date within a friend group, especially when you had no one else you knew - if things even got that far. Frankly, you would probably just embarrass yourself developing a crush on Maledos.

In any case, it would be more trouble than what it’s worth for everyone involved and you immediately decided it would be best to avoid that road altogether, firmly denying any feelings when Kharza asked.

…

A month passed quickly since your first night at the bar. It was the go-to hangout spot for Kharza and her friends, so it was a given once you became a part of the group that you would hang out there often as well, which meant even more interactions with Maledos - the only time you’d see him despite living across the hall from each other. And whenever you went to the bar, the two of you would inevitably take up each other’s time and attention, a fact Kharza loves to claim as proof of something deeper going on between you, entirely convinced that the two of you were sneaking behind everyone’s backs no matter how often you point out that your very average conversations were nowhere near the proclamations of undying love she imagined.

Rather than convince Kharza that nothing was happening - which it wasn’t - it always managed to set her off in a long speech about how dense you were and how you wouldn’t recognize Maledos’ feelings for you if he got down on one knee before you in front of everyone, to paraphrase.

While you couldn’t deny that Maledos was attractive to your best friend, who would easily see through such blatant lies knowing full well your ‘type’ had remained largely unchanged since you were teenagers, you still stood by your decision not to complicate the dynamics of the group with undoubtedly unrequited feelings. It was just downright unlikely that a hot, successful business owner who met hundreds of people every week through his job would find you of all people particularly interesting. Especially considering the fact that Maledos hadn’t given you any sort of indication that he wanted to be anything more than friends, no matter what Kharza said about the ‘subtleties of love.’

Despite your conviction whenever you told Kharza she was reading too much into things, but that didn’t stop the part of your pride that reared its head whenever she inadvertently stroked your ego with claims that some small action showed Maledos secretly was crushing on you. Despite it feeling so very high school, it was still an addicting rush to think so and didn’t help your burgeoning feelings for the tiefling every time you saw him.

After a particularly long day at work - a visit by an important client for the company you worked for requiring all hands on deck as your boss had everyone bending over backwards for them - you fell asleep almost immediately after getting home, only taking Pumpkin out to use the bathroom by your apartment building before passing out and even bailing on Friday night drinks with everyone. So when at almost 6 in the morning Pumpkin’s whining at your bedroom door to be taken out woke you up, you rushed to get changed and take her for a much needed walk, feeling terrible for depriving her of her evening walk.

You went to the park a couple blocks away, sitting on a bench in the small dog park while you watched Pumpkin excitedly sniff around. Despite sleeping well over eight hours, you still somehow nod off, not even realizing you do until you felt someone tapping on your shoulder, eliciting a shrill scream from you.

“Gods above that was loud. And here I was trying to save you from falling off a bench,” you recognized Maledos’ teasing voice right away, twisting around in your seat to look at him leaning over the fence as Pumpkin jumped onto the bench next to you for ear scratches.

“Are you barely coming back from the bar?” You stifle a yawn behind your hand, grinning as you watched Maledos easily scale the fence to sit next to you, still apparently full of energy even after pulling an all-nighter at the bar. He was wearing the leather jacket with the bar’s logo on it - the one article of clothing you had yet to see him without in all the time you’d known him - but now he wore a plain black shirt, jeans and white sneakers as opposed to the dressier clothes he’d been wearing when you met.

“Yeah, Fridays are always our busiest nights so I usually have to stay until the next morning,” Maledos sighed, draping himself over you melodramatically with one arm thrown over his face in mock despair, “I was bored all night without you there. Why did you leave me all alone?”

“Oh, I’m sure you were absolutely lonely in the bar surrounded by 800 of your closest friends,” you snarked, nudging Maledos in his side to get him off. You stifle down your soaring emotions at his remarks, knowing that Maledos’ words were far from flirtatious.

You had long since realized that the tiefling was very much like a cat in that respect - an aloof brick wall to those he didn’t know but incredibly needy with those he was close to - though you couldn't help the swell of pride that came with thought that he preferred having you around over anyone else. It certainly didn’t help dampen your growing crush on the man.

“And what are you doing sitting around in a dimly lit park this early?” Maledos asked, finally sitting up but still draping his arms around the back of the bench.

“I fell asleep early and didn’t get a chance to walk her,” you replied, placing both palms on either side of Pumpkin’s face and squishing the excess skin, making the dog grow so excited her whip-like tail began swinging right dangerously close to Maledos’ arm, “but when else would I be able to run into my night owl of a neighbor?”

Maledos snorted, the two of you beginning to joke around with each other while you sat, mostly about a certain couple on the first floor who was seemingly constantly arguing. You thought it was just in the middle of the night, but Maledos assured you they also kept him up during the day when all he wanted to do was sleep.

As the sky rapidly lightened overhead, Pumpkin started tugging on her leash in your hand, a sign that she was ready to go. Maledos walked with you through the park and back towards the apartment building in a comfortable silence, Pumpkin sticking close to Maledos’ side since he pet her while you walked.

“Oh yeah, Ms. Lalshur tells me you baked her the best cookies she’s ever tasted when you first moved in,” Maledos mentioned as he held the building door open for you, “gotta admit I feel a little left out.”

“I gave some to everyone on our floor, but somebody never answered their door when I knocked,” you said as you started up the stairs with Pumpkin.

“Y’know, I think I remember looking through my peephole and seeing a girl scout once…” Maledos tapped his finger on his cheek while feigning a contemplative look, though he was soon doubling over in laughter as you shoved him for the jab, though he doesn’t even budge.

“Well you can forget tasting any of my baking skills, mister,” you scoffed, turning as though you were going to stomp to your apartment door.

“Hold on, I’m sorry, please give me—shit!” Maledos tried to follow behind you, but neither of you noticed Pumpkin standing between you, the large tiefling falling forward as he tried to avoid hurting her and stumbling over his own feet.

Maledos fortunately caught himself on the wall, effectively caging you between his muscular arms as he hunched over you, your faces mere centimeters apart just short of a collision that would have surely left you both concussed - you worse if his horns had knocked into you.

You let out a chuckle to try and ease the tension, but it comes out too airy, made worse as you tried to joke, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you tripped on purpose, Mal.”

Maledos’ expression softened at the nickname you so rarely used for him in favor of his full name despite how universal it was for everyone else. He broke into a small grin, beginning to say something when the door across the hall slammed open and Mrs. Umekrana walked out into the hall with her trash in one hand and a cigarette in another, interrupting.

“You can’t keep it in your fucking pants until you get into your apartment, Maledos?” She muttered, continuing towards the stairs and taking a long drag that somehow doesn’t set off any of the smoke detectors.

The two of you watched the willowy-looking drow disappear down the stairwell like deer in headlights, the moment quickly hurtling towards uncomfortable.

“I didn’t know Mrs. Umekrana even knew my name,” Maledos said weakly, the first to break the silence as he quickly stepped away from you and loudly cleared his throat.

You were still struggling to catch your breath, not wanting to sound too flustered when you finally responded, though you were fortunately spared from the awkward situation as Pumpkin began whining to go inside beside you.

“It was good seeing you, Maledos,” you said with an only slightly strained smile, unlocking your apartment door and waving one last time before finally shutting the door and able to let out a deep breath you weren’t aware you were holding.

Your mind and heart were racing as you took off Pumpkin’s harness, relieved Kharza was such a heavy sleeper. Obviously unable to sleep after that, you tossed and turned in your bed as you wondered what would have happened - if anything at all - had Mrs. Umekrana hadn’t decided to take out her trash at that very moment.

Finally giving up on sleep, you got up and ventured into the kitchen, Pumpkin not moving from her spot on the bed. It was already 9 o’clock, which meant if your started baking now you could be done in an hour.

You quickly set to work, gathering all the necessary ingredients from the pantry and refrigerator while the oven preheated. Rather than make cookies, you decide to go with brownies since they were much easier to prepare.

Kharza wandered into the kitchen after you’ve already set the pan of mix in the oven, futilely pushing back her bedhead as she watched you pretend to scroll through your phone and look at anywhere but her while you sat at the dining table.

“Brownies? Who’re you bringing out the big guns for?” Kharza yawned as she leaned on the island counter with her chin resting on her palm.

“I’m not bringing out anything,” you replied, pressing the oven light to watch the brownies’ progress despite only just putting it in, keeping your voice even as you nonchalantly add “I’m just making Maledos some brownies.”

“Oh, Maledos, I should have known.” You don’t even need to look up to know Kharza was wiggling her eyebrows with a knowing smirk, her tone saying it all.

You don’t bother to make a reply, any defense of your actions only feeding into her conviction. You definitely could not tell Kharza about what had transpired hours earlier - no matter how badly you needed her advice on the matter. It would only make her more convinced that you and Maledos were an item and Kharza would no doubt tease Maledos with the information, which would make it obvious you were overthinking things with him when nothing actually happened and you couldn’t risk Maledos finding out your feelings like that.

By the time Kharza left on her morning jog with Pumpkin, you had already taken the brownies out the oven and placed the pan in the fridge to cool before cutting them into squares. After stacking two thirds of them onto a plate and sending a quick text to Maledos about coming over, you leave your apartment to go down the hall.

It took you a minute of pacing back and forth in front of his door to gather up the courage to knock, praying that Maledos was even awake. However, before your lifted hand can even make contact with the door, it was swinging open, Maledos standing before you before you can even jump from the sudden movement, your mouth slack in surprise.

“I- uh- got your text,” Maledos explained, standing aside to let you inside. He had changed into a plain white t-shirt and sweats, his hair still dripping obviously fresh from a shower. 

As you walked into the apartment, you were struck by how different it appeared from your and Kharza’s, even with the exact same layout and fixtures. The interior definitely suited Maledos - a lot of steel grays with black splashed here and there, all very modern. The entire apartment was impeccable, ripped straight from a catalogue, a show apartment for tours rather than a home and definitely not one lived in for the last five years. However, it made sense considering Maledos spent most of his free time in the apartment sleeping, the rest in the bar, so it was a given the apartment wouldn’t be messy.

You set the plate down on the kitchen counter, nearly running face to chest into Maledos when you turned around just as he was reaching around you for a piece.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, ducking around him and not looking at Maledos as you felt your cheeks burning. In turn, you missed how Maledos turned to watch you make your way to his bookshelf, reading the spines but not daring to move your hands from your sides lest you mess up the order of everything.

Unbeknownst to you, Maledos had also been unable to sleep after the almost-something in the hallway. He had laid in his bed, wide awake and texting his older sister, who had been less than pleased to be woken up so early on a Saturday but easily placated with the news that Maledos of all people was having girl troubles.

He had been surprised as well. For years running the bar had been his life, everything else put on the back burner to that goal. He was good at that. Successful, even. But in romance, short flings and one night stands were his forte, not pining over his neighbor or a friend’s best friend - in your case, both. You were growing increasingly important to him and he knew for a fact you didn’t deserve having to deal with his ineptitude in longterm relationships. You were someone who baked cookies for your neighbors in your free time and helped old ladies fix their ancient singer sewing machines. You just came over with a plate full of brownies just because he mentioned he wanted to try your baking that morning.

Not to mention he would be risking your friendship if you didn’t even feel the same way. There was simply too much at stake for him, preferring to keep his feelings closely guarded and never acted on.

But all that care and caution was all thrown out the moment he would see you - just as he had this morning while walking back home from the bar. He had needed to rest, wake up before noon and go back to do the expenses. Instead, he found himself already walking over to you and tapping your shoulder, reveling in how all drowsiness dissipated from your expression upon seeing him and the way the corners of your eyes crinkled as you flashed him the widest grin - unconscientious, unabashed in wearing your heart on your sleeve.

“Maledos?” You asked again, jumping up to wave your hand in front of his eyes and drawing him back to reality, “You were spacing out pretty hard. Are you okay?”

“Of course!” It came out too forced, you certainly looked unconvinced. He laughed sheepishly, “Sorry, the all nighters are starting to get to me. What happened?”

“I said Kharza and I were going to go for drinks tonight since we didn’t get a chance to go out last night,” you reiterated, curious of what he had been thinking but respecting his decision not to share, “Maybe you could go with us? I think you could definitely use a night off. You seem tired. Get away from the bar for a night, scope out the competition. I’m sure Valbaugh and the others can hold down the fort.”

The concern you showed for him made a surge of emotion rise up in Maledos, bringing forth a wide smile before he could stop himself, agreeing to go with you. And Kharza.

“Great,” you clapped your hands together in excitement, heading towards the door with a wave, “See you tonight, then. I’ll text you.”

“See you tonight,” Maledos repeated back, returning you wave and standing in the middle of his foyer for a good five minutes after you’d closed the door behind you.

His phone alarm finally sounded, rousing him from his stupor rather than a nap and telling him it was time to go back to the bar. Dismissing it, Maledos opened up his recent calls and dialed Valbaugh to let him know he would be taking the night off.

[voidstilesplease]

By the Angel, TALK

Warning: THIS IS AN ANTI-CLARY AND JACE SPOILER RANT because I need an avenue to let out some of the steam I've been holding off since starting City of Fallen Angels. So PLEASE SKIP AHEAD because I don't want to burden you all with my reading woes.

This thing centers on the beginning of Chapter 9: From Fire Unto Fire and a little bit of Chapter 8. About eight pages of bad, bad romance set me off.

To start,

The rest is under the cut, so you can go away now.

So, what's been happening to Clary and Jace thus far?

This book introduced them now as an official couple, picking up from the end of TMI Book 3: City of Glass. I don't remember their every scene since then to the point in Chapter 9 where I stopped, but basically, they're having relationship issues early on. They're less than two months into their relationship, and the drama is too frickin much. 

Jace has these weird dreams about murdering Clary and waking up guilty about his subconscious thoughts, so he goes angsting about it and avoiding her, snapping at her, being a total dick, and still question why people think they are on the brink of a break-up. 

So, Jace goes with Simon in the next few scenes, in his plight to get away from her as far as possible, yet still be somehow close by being around Clary's best friend to "protect" him, so his distant behavior will be reasonable and forgivable. Yeah, make that make sense. 🙄 But of course, one way or another, they're going to have to get to the confrontation part (that I still wish had been equivalent to an actual break-up), and so that's when Chapter 8 & 9 enters.

Chapter 8: Walk in Darkness pp. 185-186

Almost instantly, the light went out of them, and the remaining color drained out of his face. "I thought --- Simon said you weren't coming." ¹

[...] "So you only came because you thought I wouldn't be here? [...] Were you ever planning on talking to me again? [...] If you're going to break it off, the least you could do is tell me, not just stop talking to me and leave me to figure it out on my own."

"Why does everyone keep goddamn asking me if I'm going to break up with you? [...]²

First, what an asshole?! 

[1] So Jace finally in-your-face's Clary and confirms that he has been keeping his distance like Clary has the plague. He then has the audacity to [2] be annoyed for being questioned on his intentions of keeping the relationship that he has been actively evading for days!

I get that Jace sucks in romantic relationships and has been fucked up by his daddy-issues, but he has the Lightwoods. Heck, Alec is his parabatai. He sees working relationships, so he has to have known that you don't just stop talking to people close to you and have them not question the behavior, whether you're trying to pull away from them or not. Otherwise, then Jace is dumb for all that he's marketed as the "best" Shadowhunter in his age. Screw that.

---

“You talked to Simon about us?" Clary shook her head. "Why? Why aren't you talking to me?"

"Because I can't talk to you," Jace said. "I can't talk to you, I can't be with you, I can't even look at you."³

[3] Way to make a girl feel special, Jace. Oh, no, yeah. He's trying to do the opposite and push her away with some teenage boy angst that doesn't make any sense. Like, who says that, though, aside from dramatic love interests that can't make a better excuse for going emo? 

That line IS TOO DRAMATIC that it hurts, ugh. 🤮

Anyway, so Clary walks out after that. I don't sympathize with her, but I'd do the same. Who wouldn't? Unless you freeze in the ridiculousness of the situation, that is, which is also likely.

Chapter 9: From Fire Unto Fire pp. 190-195

Now, here's the real shit. I want to quote this entire six-page scene back to Cassie and scream at her.

Clary reached the door and burst out into the rain-drenched evening air. [...] and was about to race across the street against the light when a hand caught her arm and spun her around.

It was Jace. [...] "Clary, didn't you hear me calling you?"

"Let go of me." Her voice shook.

"No. Not until you talk to me."⁴

[4] DUDE, what even happened to your I CAN'T TALK TO YOU, I CAN'T EVEN LOOK AT YOU speech, huh? Be consistent for once, apart from your douchebag routine. Make up your mind, Jace.

---

Still holding her by the arm, he half-dragged her around the van and into a narrow alley that bordered the Alto Bar. ⁵

[5] Man, I love a bit of rough loving in my literature, but I'm so pissed at you, Jace, don't even. Lay the hell off.

---

"I was going to tell you that I was trying to help out Simon. [...]

"And you couldn't tell me? Couldn't text me a single line letting me know where you were?"⁶ [...]

[...]

"I think," he said slowly, "that I thought that the closest thing to being with you was being with Simon. Watching out for him. I had some stupid idea that you'd realize I was doing it for you and forgive me---"⁷

[6] Addressing the lack of communication, that's a great path to follow. These two need to talk so bad. [7] But this line? Sucks Balls. You could be with her, Jacey, and save all the readers your drama if you only pull your head out of your ass and try to communicate. It's like you're allergic to it.

---

She took a step back, blindly, and nearly tripped over an abandoned speaker. Her bag slid to the ground as she put her hand out to right herself, but Jace was already there. He moved forward to catch her, and kept moving until her back hit the alley wall, and his arms were around her, and he was kissing her frantically.⁸

[8] Not only is this achingly cheesy, but it's also totally not the way they should be going off about their situation. They were already talking -arguing, yes, but they're still using words to reach out, and their relationship absolutely cannot be healthy without them. Thus far, they have spoken so less in comparison with the times they've spent canoodling. They're not solving anything by having drama on one second and getting it on with dramatic kissing on the next.

I don't care what Clary says about being so lost in love with Jace. He's treating her like shit. The least he can do is give her answers that she has the right to demand from him. Kissing is not an answer. But, well, maybe to Clary, it is because the next parts from page 192 to 194 are spent on softcore porn in a dark alley under the frickin rain. I bet that's a very romantic setting in their minds, huh.

---

And now this part:

It was nerve-wracking. She could feel the feverish heat that came off him; her hands were still on his shoulders, but it wasn't enough. She wanted him wrapped around her, holding her tight. "W-why," she breathed. "can't you talk to me? Why can't you look at me?"

He ducked his head down to look into her face. His eyes, surrounded by lashes darkened with rainwater, were impossibly gold.

"Because I love you."⁹

[9] Is that supposed to make me tingle? SET ME ON FIRE, but that is the lousiest I love you in books that I have ever read. AND IT'S THE ONLY ONE THAT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE, at all!

Shut up with this, can you please. It's not romantic at all. It's a dumb excuse and an even dumber love from the two dumbest people in this whole frickin series. Oh my god.

Clary, realistically, will frown at this answer. She will pull the hell away and spat him in the face with how demeaning his love is if it can make her sick to the stomach with thinking he has already gone bored and is only cooking the perfect way to cut off their connection. He hasn't given her a sound reason, only desperate declarations of love like he's trying to convince them both that it's true. And it doesn't make sense how she's still plastered around him in the cold, trying to convince the readers that every word from Jace has deeper meanings that she understands no matter how gibberish they are. I'm not buying that, okay? Stop selling your larger-than-life connection bullshit because that isn't real.

You've only been together for two months, okay? The strongest you can feel for each other is lust. And it's showing.

---

His hands slid down to her waist and he kissed her, long and lingering, making her shudder.

She pulled away, "That doesn't make any sense."

"Neither does this," he said, "but I don't care. I'm sick of trying to pretend I can live without you. Don't you understand that? Can't you see it's killing me?"¹⁰

She stared at him. She could see that he meant what he said [...] Her desire for answers battled the more primal part of her brain, and lost. "Kiss me then,"¹¹

[10] NOBODY THREATENED YOU UNDER BLADE TO DO THAT BULLSHIT, so shut the hell up with the whining. [11] and Clary, I am so disappointed. You've both just drained me, and I'm dry inside like a raisin.

The next paragraphs describe their very erotic kissing against the wall. Jace, propping her up and her legs around his waist bull crap. Seriously? Am I supposed to believe these two are, what sixteen?- up until Isabelle thankfully ruins their moment by kicking a garbage can that would look better with Jace and Clary in it tbh.

---

And the nastiest horseshit of all:

Clary looked at Jace. At any other time, they would have laughed together at Isabelle's moodiness, but there was no humor in his expression, and she knew immediately that whatever they had had between them ---whatever had blossomed out of his momentary lack of control--- it was gone now. [...]

"Jace---" she took a step toward him.

"Don't," he said, his voice very rough. "I can't."¹²

And then he was gone [...]

[12] No, I frickin CANNOT. His actions keep on contradicting his words, and he's fickle and can't decide which mood to settle, and it's so exhausting, honestly. He wasted a few pages for a cosmic, meaningless declaration of feelings. They're empty words. At this point, I believe the writing only strives to convince the readers that these characters care for each other but is shitty at showing it.

It's not love, because they say it is love.

---

I was already gaining hope for this book, and then one simple few-pages scene with clace squishes it, smearing the innards on my face.

Honestly, TALK OR TAKE A BREAK. This back and forth can't continue throughout the rest of the book or -heaven forbid- the rest of the series. Or at least, put these characters in the background if they really must drag on this problem, because I care not a lick.

Bye.

[chasingthepoguelife]

Lonely Boys Do Stupid Things Part 2

Lonely boys do stupid things Part 2

 (gif credits to @rafecameron​)

  Summary: Rafe is tired of an already boring summer, constantly being judged by everyone on the island, and is looking for a challenge. When the group is introduced to the new girl hanging out with Kiara, Topper suggests a challenge and Rafe accepts only to be conflicted along the way.

  Author’s: So in this world Rafe is still a bad guy, just not a “I killed a cop and have all these daddy issues” bad, Topper hasn’t developed yet, and also John B hasn’t dragged anyone into his stupid shit and there is a civil ground between kooks and pogues and Ward isn’t a “I love two out my three children and murdered my friend” dad. For reference, I do not support Rafe’s canon character. I’m just blinded by the attraction I feel for him and I love Drew, but will never condone or excuse Rafe’s actions. Also, I’m not writing y/n with many descriptions. I know all types of people might read this and I want to make everyone feel included but I also don’t want to do it the wrong way so I’m leaving a lot of physical features up to the reader’s imagination. I would also accept tips and constructive criticism to be more of an inclusive writer.

 Warning: For part 2 I don’t think there is anything, just a mention of underwear and little yelling from Rafe.

 For reference, Rafe is 19, y/n just turned 18 and she’s figuring out her college plans for the upcoming year.

Tag List: @nxsmss​ @prejudic3​ @spencereidbasis​ @alexandracheers​ @ifilwtmfc​ @billybonesxx​

 “So you’re telling me out of all those guys I met today, you don’t have a thing for a single one of them?” y/n asked.

“Dating here is complicated y/n,” Kie began. “Everyone is so focused on money and status, it’s hard to find anyone real. I used to think John B and I would end up together, but that ended sooner than it began. I kissed Topper one time in the ninth grade, and it was like what I imagine kissing your cousin is like.”

“And what about Rafe?” y/n questioned.

“y/n, no. I know that tone. He may look perfect on the outside, and he may seem like he could give a girl everything she wants but there’s a whole lot of issues and drama that he comes with. Ask around. There’s not 1 girl here he hasn’t screwed over or put in danger. The boy only has feelings and compassion for himself.”

“I always believe that people can change, but if it’s coming from you, I believe that you’re just looking out for me Kie.”

“I promise when you ease more into the island, I have two other guy friends that not only look as good as Rafe, but they won’t drag you down with all their problems.”

“Alright Kie, if I’m not making out with someone soon, it’s really on you if I go looking for Rafe.” Y/n teased.

2 Days Later

“How much you want to bet Kiara already bashed you in front of y/n?” Topper asked.

“She can talk all the shit she wants. I saw the way y/n was staring at me. Guarantee she will be dreaming about me tonight,” Rafe smirked.

“But do you think you’ll even get the chance to talk to her? There’s no way Kie is going to let this happen.”

“Kie can’t be with her 24/7. Lucky for me their houses are 20 minutes apart, and thanks to good old dad and his real estate connections, I already know where she lives.”

“Where are you going man?”

“To put her address in my gps,” Rafe yelled running away.

The ride to the Marigold neighborhood felt like a lifetime to Rafe. He had only ever been here one time as a kid, and even that was a distant memory. It didn’t seem much different than figure eight, except for the fact that he couldn’t even fit his driveway onto some of these properties. To his surprise when the gps said he arrived, he was in front of the last house on the street, probably the largest house he’d seen in the entire neighborhood. One might say that he was a little impressed, but back to being small minded after questioning if all 3 cars in the driveway belong to the family. Rafe parked his car in front of the house, locking it once he got out. Within seconds, he was at y/n’s front door, noting how short the walk is in comparison to his own home. He knocked on the door, waiting for what seemed like forever until the door opened. An older woman resembling y/n answered the door.

“Can I help you son?”

“I’m looking for y/n, did I come to right house?” Rafe asked for effect, knowing very well he was at the right house.

“I wasn’t aware my y/n had made so many friends here already. She should be around somewhere in between all these boxes. Y/n!, please come downstairs,” her mother yelled.

Rafe waited in an awkward silence until he heard foot steps coming down. To say he was looking at a different person was understatement, and had y/n known someone like Rafe was in her living room, well she would be coming down with more than a tshirt and underwear.

Y/n stood there, arms crossed, glaring at her mother. “Really? Couldn’t have bothered to mention that someone else was here?” y/n said grabbing a convenient pair of her dad’s sweatpants on the nearest carboard box.

“In all honesty I didn’t think you’d be putting on a show,” her mother joked.

“What are you doing here Rafe, how did you even know which house we bought?” y/n asked.

“I’m sure Kiara told you, but I have a lot of resources available to me,” Rafe smirked.

“Doesn’t make it any less weird, I’ve met you two days ago.”

“Y/N! Don’t be rude,” her mother said slapping her arm. “You’ve already made one more friend than I have.”

“May I use your restroom?” Rafe asked.

As y/n refused to moved, her mother came back momentarily from showing Rafe where to go.

“10/10 daughter,’ y/n’s mom spoke like she was talking to her best friend.

“Just because he has a nice face and body doesn’t make him a 10 mom, besides, I’ve heard some bad things about him, especially from Kiara,” y/n shared.

Rafe couldn’t help but hear everything from the bathroom. He had needed a moment to cool down after already seeing her half naked after two days, but chose to stay extra to hear more compliments about himself. Topper could’ve at least made this harder by picking a girl he wasn’t physically attracted to.

“Kiara is a lovely girl, but she’s just one person. Sometimes you need to give people the benefit of the doubt “ y/n’s mom said.

Rafe was relieved how much y/n’s mom was on his side, at this point he’d even date her mom just to add some difficulty to this challenge. He was about to join them again in the living room when he heard a louder noise come from the back of the house. A few seconds later, a louder, deeper voice began calling for y/n and her mother.

“Lovely to see two more Marigold residents in these parts,” the older man said.

“Ugh it doesn’t matter where we go you two are such dorks!”

“You should be so luck to find someone half as good as your father young lady.”

Rafe couldn’t help but barf. Relationships make him sick as he’s never a real one in his life, nor did he ever have a good example of one. The only one he could ever consider is the nauseating relationship between his sister and John B. He decided  was going to wait for her father to leave the room. He could not handle anymore jokes.

As her mom left the room to her and her dad, y/n had a feeling a hard conversation was coming.

“How about an update on school kiddo?”

“There’s not much to tell dad, I’m still figuring things out,” y/n shrugged.

“Well maybe had you taken 7 APs instead of 4, you would’ve impressed the schools more.”

4 Aps Rafe thought? He could barley get through 1 and this guy was complaining about not taking 7?

“What does it matter dad, I got A’s in all classes. That’s 4 GPA boosters and 4 college credits. Between that a year off to save, I won’t be needing much from you and mom, you know, after all you’ve done for me,” y/n explained.

“After 18 I didn’t see my father and mother for 5 years until I got a stable job. I didn’t go back to them until I could stand on my own two feet without needing anything from them.”

“The world is different now, and you’re acting like I’m never going to do anything on my own.”

“Well you know kid; you have to rustle up something good by next year or we’re going to have to teach you the hard way. Anyways, you know what you have to do. Tell your mother I’m headed down to the Wreck for some work things. See you later pumpkin.”

Rafe thought his dad was messed up, how could this guy insult and support his kid with every other sentence? He waited until it seemed like it was just y/n out there before coming back.

“Finally, I thought you fell in the toilet or something?” y/n joked, but Rafe could tell she was half joking, half compensating for her father putting her down, something Rafe knows all too well.

“I don’t need to explain to you my bathroom habits,” Rafe joked,

“No, but what you need to explain to me is why after two days you think it’s ok to just show up uninvited, without getting the address from me?”

“So you’re saying there’s a problem?” Rafe teased.

“Let’s see, I met you two days ago, you show up unannounced, intruding, and I know nothing about you except for all the bad things-“ y/n shut her mouth once she realized what she was saying.

“Go on, finish what you were saying. All the bad things…. that Kiara told you? Rafe questioned.

“Well what am I supposed to think, you’re not off to the best start. And I’m supposed to believe that after spending like 5 minutes with me, you just have to get to know me, or let me guess, you can’t stop thinking about me?” y/n said sarcastically.

“You haven’t even given me a chance yet,” Rafe stated.

“Rafe, we both know you’re cute, but I can’t take this on right now. I had hoped to meet someone after moving here, but this is already screaming red flag to me. You should just go.”

“You should know, that just because you’re not a pogue, doesn’t mean you’re worth anything on this island!” Rafe spat before storming out the front door.

Rafe made his way back to the car, in disbelief that he didn’t get anywhere with y/n. Kiara must have told her countless stories to turn her off. Not that there weren’t enough known incidences about Rafe, but everyone deserves another chance.  Considering Rafe believes he was sculpted by the gods and can’t remember the last time he’s ever been rejected; he’s still confused as to why he couldn’t make it work on y/n.

After Rafe left to head back to Figure Eight, y/n went on her own drive to Kie’s house, letting her know she’d be there soon. When she arrived, Kie was on the steps of her house, watching y/n’s face.

“It’s only been 2 days, what have you done now?” Kie questioned.

“This island is like a lifetime movie! I met the guy two days ago and he just shows up to my house in his fancy car sweet talking my mother!!”

“Rafe? What that makes no sense? We would’ve heard something by now if he was interested in you. That’s how he likes to move,” Kie noted.

“Apparently not, he just blitzed me, and caught in my underwear I may add.”

“So then what happened?”

“Don’t get me wrong I thought about. He seems perfect and really hot, as you know. But I keep replaying everything you told me about him, and that’s not something to ignore. He said you were lying about it all and that I should find out for myself. But my gut told me to not go down that road.”

“He’ll get over it y/n, even more so when he sees you on the arm of my friend JJ.”

“Kie you are not already trying to set me up with another outer banks man!”

“Did you not say you were looking to make out with someone soon?” Kie teased.

“Well after Rafe insulted me for not giving him a choice, I might need to reconsider.”

[dreamingofscully]

6x12. “One Son” (part 2 of 2) - X-Files Rewatch

“Mulder, this stinks, and not just because I think that woman is a... well, I think you know what I think that woman is.” - Scully “No. Actually, you hide your feelings very well.” - Mulder

I found a few things really strange about this episode, so get ready for a deep dive into speculation in order to explain them! (*grumble* stupid mythology episodes)

Also, I apologize (#sorrynotsorry) for my use of caps-lock/bold on this post. I feel very emotional about a lot of things. That doesn’t make this series of episodes good, though, it just makes me have to WORK.

Long LONG post/analysis.

Decon shower. 😲

This joint decon shower is meant to humiliate Scully, to make her feel vulnerable and out-of-sorts. It kinda works. If I didn’t already hate Diana I’d definitely want to murder her after what she does here. 

Scully can’t see much, but Mulder sees quite a bit. It doesn’t really matter that Mulder is there. She trusts him absolutely. It’s her AUTONOMY about it that gets to her, and her suspicions about Diana’s motives. 

With this episode being on the cusp in a change in their relationship, this whole thing is awkward. If they merely felt like friends towards one another, they could laugh it off, but their intense feelings add an extra layer of vulnerability for the both of them (but especially Scully because she is more exposed than Mulder, and he doesn’t particularly care about nudity). You notice the rest of the episode she’s wearing stuff that has more coverage - a turtleneck when she confronts Mulder about Diana, a high-necked shirt in the office with Kersh. She’s definitely feeling more vulnerable.  😕

When Diana comes in - Scully is PISSED. The whole decon procedure is SUSPICIOUS AS FUCK and Scully knows it. 

If they were really concerned about them having contracted some suspicious organism they’d be in quarantine instead of interacting normally with Diana and the other people in the room. You’d need time to test to make sure Mulder and Scully didn’t have whatever organism that Diana claims Cassandra was infected with. Even if you couldn’t test for it, because it was unknown, you’d ISOLATE Mulder and Scully for at least a few weeks.

The ONLY REASON to do all this bullshit is to separate Cassandra. That Mulder can’t see this, won’t take Scully’s word that something is VERY WRONG, must be incredibly frustrating.

Mulder-before-Scully would have trusted the words of a stranger making these excuses because he was a lot more gullible and willing to trust others who gave him a convenient story.

Current Mulder would be more skeptical, and more importantly, would LISTEN TO SCULLY. EXCEPT ITS DIANA FOWLEY. He trusts her without question because of their history, because he believes she loved him, and that is such a RARE experience for him. He loved her too, at one point, and ACTIVELY works to disbelieve any evidence that contradicts his beliefs. He can’t handle yet ANOTHER person betraying him.

Scully is hurt because she doesn’t know this history, doesn’t know that Mulder feels this way, that he is so blinded by his need to believe that she hasn’t betrayed him - THAT HE DOESN’T TRUST HER.

Scully goes to the Gunmen’s again to find out more info about Fowley. She KNOWS Diana is dirty, but she only has her instincts screaming at her, not any proof. She needs to get it, so Mulder will listen and work with her - because he seems unwilling to trust her otherwise. I think she understands that, despite being hurt by it. (Especially since this mirrors their own investigations on the X-Files. Scully won’t believe Mulder without proof, but at least she listens to him, and has learned to listen to his instincts.)

The stuff Scully finds is suspicious, but not conclusive on its own. With her own instincts about Diana, and everything else she’s seen, it’s enough to bring to Mulder though.

Mulder would find it difficult to believe any evidence pointing towards Diana’s guilt. But this is SCULLY. He is initially resistant, cruel in his dismissal of her claims, but he goes to investigate Diana anyway. He has his back up from the start, stubbornly determined not to believe no matter what Scully shows him.

Scully’s beliefs, her distrust, her instincts ARE NOT ENOUGH and this hurts. Coupled with her concerns that Mulder doesn’t completely trust her anymore (The Beginning), this brings back all of her insecurities. She thought things were getting better between them, that they were starting to get back on track, but this makes her think - Can it ever go back to the way it was?

Mulder is determined to believe that Diana is innocent because the alternative is that maybe she never loved him? His life has been so full of manipulative, distant people, that he wants to hold on to the idea that Diana loved him unconditionally, that there was something to their relationship, that he is CAPABLE of having a relationship. Even though his history with Diana pales in comparison to the feelings he has for Scully, his inability to have a normal relationship with ANYONE would make him doubt his ability to do so in the future.

It is only when Scully threatens to leave that he looks into her suspicions for himself. The only thing more unbearable would be to lose her.

Much like Scully being blinded to the truth, to the paranormal, Mulder is blind when it comes to this person. It stems from them both fearing the implications of that belief. For Scully, it’s about not being able to explain the unknown, of having to face unexplainable things without having the bedrock of her science to conquer her fears about them. For Mulder, it’s about his internal struggle with himself - his fear of losing Scully because he can never be good enough, never give her what she wants because he is incapable of a normal relationship.

Scully points out how convenient it is that DIana showed up right at this moment. Not only is her task to separate Mulder from Scully but to distract him from the work and destroy the X-Files without his interference. All the little things add up to Diana’s duplicity. Mulder has made up his mind about cases on far less evidence. But he is blind when it comes to Diana, and that is WHY she was brought back by CSM, why she is interfering now.

The LGM are disappointed in Mulder. While they don’t have Scully’s instincts about people, they trust her. They can connect the dots with the evidence already uncovered. Something IS strange, and it’s Mulder who seems determined to NOT believe this time, no matter what he’s shown. That Scully and Mulder have a very personal and uncharacteristic fight in front of them would make them uncomfortable and protective of Scully over what they see as a pretty cruel dismissal of her claims by Mulder. (I want to see some LGM post-OS fanfic pls.)

“Because there's nothing to be done. And at some point, you just have to accept that the only way those you love are going to survive is if you give up.” - Mulder

Why would Mulder choose to save himself over the world, over resistance and fighting to save it? Seems like he’s given up, that he is willing to go to the hangar with Diana and Scully. Also, why isn’t he more upset about Diana knowing CSM? He’s still blinded, desperately believing CSM that he was looking for his son. It is so frustrating how he is able to turn a blind eye to all the evidence pointing to her guilt - but perhaps it is just that irrationality about it that makes it all the more believable. Diana is his Achilles Heel, and that is the reason she’s here.

Diana kisses him, but he doesn’t kiss her back. Perhaps he was wondering if he still had feelings for her, or if it was just the memories? Or maybe he thinks he can’t have Scully, so perhaps he is meant to be with Diana? Either way, he knows he doesn’t love her anymore, he can’t pretend, he’s meant to suffer unrequited love, live a lonely existence (see “The Field Where I Died”).

His surrender to the belief that he doesn’t have any choices left seems so out of character here, such a dramatic change from his usual self. I talk more about this issue at the end of this post.

Scully gets Mulder to do the right thing, not just the easy, self-serving one. In this case, it is only because he can’t leave her, he can't save himself if Scully's not there with him. She is his conscience, the agent for good. Mulder is the call to action, but without Scully his decisions have no good purpose or direction.

Badass agents shooting at the train. ❤️ Grabbing her arm to pull her from the tracks.

I assume they discuss things on the way to the train yard and while waiting for Skinner. I don’t think they resolve much, though, since they still seem distant with one another at the end of the episode. They end up going to the hangar and seeing the destruction, despite Scully’s skepticism about the whole story, about not having a choice in the fate of the world. She doesn’t go because she gives up, like Mulder, but because she believes that is where they are taking Cassandra. I think it disturbs Scully to see Mulder surrendering to fate so easily, giving up.

ALSO - think about what Mulder told her how he came about hearing this information. He RAN INTO CSM AT DIANA’S. BUT HE STILL THINKS SHE’S INNOCENT. Scully must be incredibly frustrated at this point. I think her body language in the meeting with Kersh shows that she’s not happy with Mulder.

Scully’s “Sir, I wouldn't bet against him.”

Despite her anger, she’ll always have his back.

Is it assumed Diana and CSM are dead as well (for the moment at least)? Otherwise I’d assume Diana would be at the meeting. Mythology episodes make my head hurt.

***

Here’s a bit of a deep dive. I can understand Mulder’s actions re: Diana fairly well, but I struggled to understand why he so easily gives up after hearing CSM’s story.

CSM’s plan started back at the end of season 5. Mulder and Scully are stronger than ever, and they are closer than ever to the truth. Diana is brought back by CSM to create tension with the end goal of separating Mulder and Scully and causing Mulder to give up. He KNOWS Mulder needs Scully. The plan is fairly successful, and the distance between Mulder and Scully reaches its peak in this episode. All of the evidence stacking up against Diana isn’t enough to cause Mulder to be suspicious of her, which confuses and hurts Scully. Diana counts on the deception and manipulations she's built up with Mulder (now and in their past) to discount anything Scully says against her, to cause Mulder to react negatively to protect his view of her.

The distance and tension in Mulder and Scully’s relationship, as well as separating Mulder from his work, prepares him for the final blow - a story that leaves Mulder feeling hopeless. When Cassandra and CSM tell him their stories about the fate of the world, he is ready to believe in them, to give up and think he has no choice except to follow their direction. He has no rudder, with Scully being out of the picture, no one to tell him that this decision is the WRONG one.

It is Mulder’s distance from Scully (physically and emotionally) that causes him to make all these bad decisions. Scully has always pushed him to do what is right, even if it's difficult. You see this repeated later when CSM messes with Mulder’s brain. She also gives him hope, a belief that TOGETHER they can do anything. When things aren’t great between them, Mulder feels helpless.

After this episode, he's saved, somewhat, by the return of his work and the re-strengthening of his relationship with Scully, but he also seems more apathetic. They go to Florida only because Arthur Dales needs help (“Agua Mala”), Mulder is forced into an X-File in “Monday”, and SCULLY is the one that initiates their first official case (“Arcadia”). His fears about the fate of the world continue, thread their way deep into his mind. His apprehension about what terrible thing is coming because he doesn't deserve to be happy (he has the X-Files back, but does it matter?). 

This lays the groundwork for depression, which I believe Mulder goes through in season 7 after his brain gets tinkered with. I’ll get into more of that later. (Though I do make the implication in my fic “Momentum” if you haven’t read it. I think many people thought that the Mulder I wrote was being an asshole for no good reason, which wasn’t my intention, but perhaps this will give you a different perspective!)

[stillwinterair]

I have so much creative energy that, like clockwork, manifests in me almost every single day at around midnight, give or take an hour or two to either end (I also get it in the afternoon between like 2 and 4 but it's not as strong and not nearly as consistent). It's when I have my best ideas and can generally work the most effectively; I can very easily sit down and hyper-focus on a project.

Unfortunately, work really prevented me from taking advantage of that because I was usually asleep then. Quarantine was going to be the perfect opportunity to actually... create! To actually do the things I wanted to do in life, to write and outline and work on creative projects and run ttrpgs!

Except... my cat. My cat also, like clockwork, has a mode she enters every night at midnight, give or take an hour or two in either direction. It is her "scream and cry and demand attention, but only play a little bit, mostly I just want to sit in the same room as a person, but it HAS to be a particular room, and you HAVE to look at least vaguely in my direction the whole time, and at least one of your hands HAS to be empty or I will know you're not paying attention to me, and we occasionally have to get up and walk to another room for a few minutes, and then we can go back, and you HAVE to be touching me, except now you CANNOT be touching me, except now you HAVE to be touching me, and if you don't do all of these things then I will go so far out of my way to cause a ruckus and make as much noise as possible and wake up Ash who has to go to bed early because she has work early every morning" mode and it has prevented my creative juices from being able to flow almost every single night for the last year.

I do get a lot of reading done during the several hours per night where I tend to just... wander around the apartment at Lilith's whim. Usually it's not a problem for her, we just sorta walk around and I give her some fuss until she doesn't want fuss anymore but DEFINITELY still wants someone near her (but it HAS to be in the room that she wants it to be in, which is usually Ash's office).

But when I'm not using up that creative energy, it builds. And I have so much trouble using it at other points in the day. If I start trying to write at 1 in the afternoon, I can't do it. It doesn't work. But when the feeling hits, when I get in the zone? It's pouring out of me. I have so much creativity to spend, and for every night I don't have a chance to indulge, the night after is only more intense.

Sometimes I get around it a little bit by opening a Google doc or a note file from my phone, but it's just definitively not even close to the same. All I can do is write down my ideas in a bulleted list, but the act of trying to actually write from my phone is just a recipe for frustration. I've tried to being my laptop with me from room to room, but Lilith seems to hate that (she doesn't even like it when I'm reading a particularly large book, but seems okay when I have a paperback I can read in one hand).

So this leads to nights like tonight, where my creative energy is boiling over, and I need to spend it so I won't go crazy, but then I'm working on a project in 30-60-second chunks broken up by several minutes of fussing over Lilith because as soon as I leave her alone she finds something loud to slam on until it wakes Ash up.

I can't put her in any kind of baby jail like you usually can for cats because she is SO loud and SO stubborn that it basically negates the entire point of using one. She absolutely refuses to rest in the living room, which is where most of my stuff is that I use for creative projects, and she goes on and on for hours

Anyway. I love her very much. She has just been making it so incredibly difficult to make any progress on literally anything that I want to be doing lately. It's incredibly frustrating and has become so much worse since moving to this apartment and I don't know what to do about it. It's making me feel terrible because I've been in quarantine for over a year now and have accomplished nothing, and not even for lack of trying, but because the time of the day when I am the most able to produce content and absorb information, I just can't.

And I kept trying to start running new ttrpg campaigns over the course of the pandemic and I feel like I keep letting people down but I do so much of my work on them during this creative window of mine every night, so I keep getting halfway ready to run things and then I can't put any more work in because my cat is completely absorbing 100% of my creative time. I feel like I keep wasting my friends' time in addition to my own and it makes me feel guilty -- and then I feel even MORE guilty, because of how much of this I'm blaming on a cat!

I feel like I'm going crazy! I feel like I'm having an existential crises crisis every single night for 4-5 hours! Some nights Lilith is content and goes to bed early only to wake up at 4 and lasts until the sun comes up and then I just don't sleep. Some nights I prepare, put aside everything and do something idly that can be put down easily, and those are the nights she sleeps peacefully, every time!

I just. This was a non-issue for so long, because I'm so used to cats having weird quirks like this, and hers is generally easy to take care of: it's late, and she wants someone to sit with and very occasionally play with; I can do that, easy. I didn't have much time for creativity when I was working, anyway.

But a year into quarantine, and looking at all the projects I started, and have gotten so much farther in than I ever would have been able to before -- all the lore documents and scripts and outlines and fanfictions and novels and RPG rulebooks and design documents. All of these things paled in comparison to the whims of my cat.

It's so very silly when I actually lay it out like this. Like, this is genuinely something that has been a huge source of depression and anxiety and self-consciousness for months. And then I write it all out and I'm like... Really? A cat?

But, man, I really don't know what to do. I don't know how to train her not to lose her mind precisely when I need space to concentrate at my desk, without creating a situation that would be actively worse for my partner, AND for our neighbors, because boy, if I did the thing you're technically "supposed" to do with cats (ignore them and let them work through their complaints and realize they're okay on their own, potentially lock them in a room with food and water and a litter box until they calm down), she would wake up the entire fucking neighborhood.

I don't know, this whole problem is dumb but it's literally consuming my life. I just need this very particular atmosphere at a certain time of day in order to be creative, and it's been within arm's reach for a year now, but it's been unachievable because my cat is an unstoppable destructive force

I really do not know how to write any of this out without sounding completely insane but I am losing so much sleep and getting so much anxiety over it aaaauuugghhhh this is unfortunately what we get for naming our cat after a demon

[kellyvela]

That "might burn your family" tweet is indicative of what I know is going to happen in fandom: sure, people are indignant now about Dany but most people don't like to be rebels; they like to be co-signed by authority (the "I'm right b/c its canon" crowd"). And no matter how it was sugarcoated, GOT canon is that Dany is a mass-murderer. Those who are not stans will slowly but surely fall in line with this reading of her, not the least b/c they don't want to be wrong AGAIN when the books come out.

If you didn’t see it already, this is the HBO_UK tweet the anon refers: 

You sound very hopeful Anon. I agree that, in general, most people don’t like to be wrong, and certainly they don’t want to be wrong again about the same issue. 

But this fandom is something else…

Certain part of it just decided to live in denial and delusion (oh the irony): “I would never post a pic of dead dany”, “dany belongs to her fans that really love her and not to the misogynist show/books creators” (copyright what?), “I would never read the Books if that is the final”, etc, etc, etc.

We also have the actress that played dany saying/doing things like these:

I stand by Daenerys.

Clarke revealed that she met Beyonce at an Oscars after-party hosted by the musician and her husband, Jay Z. There, she was approached by the host herself, who gushed about Daenerys Targaryen. Beyonce, however, like the rest of the world, was at that point ignorant about Daenerys’ dark turn in Season 8. “All I wanted to scream was ‘Please, please still like me even though my character turns into a mass-killing dictator! Please still think that I’m representing women in a really fabulous way,’ ” Clarke said of the encounter. [x]

About the backlash on the final season: “It was profoundly flattering. Is what it was, because when someone cares that much, that they’re ready to make such a noise about how they believe the characters should have been… should have been finished, and how the story should have been gone. That’s just enormously flattering, that just shows how much everybody loved it.”        

She is using Dany and Drogon images to promote her charity.  Dany is not bringing fire and blood for once, she is a cute little nurse bringing help to those in need.     

We also have certain group of “asoiaf experts“ so called BNF, that decided not to watch the Show years ago, because it’s “sacrilege“, only the books are canon (in this I agree), but they have created their own canon, the way they interprete and understand the Books, and their followers buy everything they say as “the canon”. They still believe in their 20 years old theories that include Dany is the hero, maybe she would have a brief “dark phase“ but then “enters Jon” and they gonna fall in love, make love, celebrate life, have a baby, defeat the big bad guys walk walkers and sacrifice themselves to save the humanity. Tyrion will be the third head of the dragon, etc.  

As you can see Anon, that very human sentiment to hate being wrong, sometimes includes the belief that you can’t be wrong. So all these people (fans/stans/experts/etc) will stand by their beliefs and theories till the very end (when the books are at last published and they read them). And even after that they would say that GRRM is wrong, just like right now they are saying D&D are wrong.  

Dark Dany is not new. It have been theorized for years, And according to Elio García, co-author of the World of Ice and Fire, GRRM himself complimented that Dark Dany essay: “(…) he referred very specifically to the Meereenese Blot website and the knot essays. He said he was told about them, read them, and was very pleased that someone was able to get his difficulties and his intentions perfectly.”

And for those that paid attention, it was clear that the Show was taking that route at least since season 2. Her conversation with the Spice King is very telling. There is also this conversation with Hizdahr Zo Loraq in season 5 that is very much the same conversation she had with Jon just before he killed her. 

The Battle of the Bastard’s script says: “She doesn’t have to look. She only allows the faintest hint of a smile. A smile that says: my tyranny is not ended, motherfucker. It’s only just begun.”

People also have season 7 and even after watching those seven episodes, they believed that GOT was going to have a happy ending, a Disney one, with Targaryen restoration, jonerice wedding, king and queen coronation, boat baby and all. 

But you are right, the sugarcoat was real. They change season 7 - episode 2 title from “The Mad King’s Daughter” to something more poetic/whitewashed: “Stormborn”: 

What I was impressed by was the little hints that we saw of potentially her (Daenerys) becoming like her father in those conversations ( her talking with Varys). You know, threatening to burn somebody alive, in any universes, it’s not great.

Bryan Cogman: She has dragons, an effective form of execution.

But knowing what her father was doing to people that line sticks in your ear and also when inviting him ( Jon) down and she wants him to immediately bend the knee

Bryan Cogman: Yeah, I mean, she sees this as her birthright… it’s plain and simple, you know, they took this from her, it’s hers.

And so much of the episode ( really the whole season) not just for Daenerys but for a lot of our characters is dealing with the legacy of their families and the generations that preceded them and dealing not only with how they feel about it and what they might share with some of those ancestors but how other people perceive you.

That legacy it’s kind of why I wanted to originally call it the Mad King’s daughter (I like Stormborn, I think is a great title actually), I really wanted to call it the Mad King’s daughter and actually it would have made more sense.

In the original edit there were more characters referring to her like this in pretty much every scene and I think some of that was lost in the final edit but in the original script and in the original edit ( which was longer) pretty much every character that wasn’t in the Daenerys‘s circle was referring to her as “the Mad King’s daughter is here” .

Considering this idea that she’s got a reputation before she has ever set foot there, because she has a brother’s reputation too, that first scene is definitely about her reconciling with that, wrestling with how much of that legacy is good for her brand and what isn’t and certainly that is a big part of the no-fire bombing strategy.

It’s like: you could come in here and torch the whole place and everyone would be horrified and what have you achieved? If you want to rule, you need to take a different approach.

But under that, and I think you picked up on something in that first scene, is that she’s got a real kind of need and desire to go in guns blazing and from an emotional point of view the scene has to set up this.

Game of Thrones’ Writer Bryan Cogman: In Conversation (Part 2)

The Mad King’s Daughter, she’s got a real kind of need and desire to go in guns blazing. 

Yeah, hero material you all.

And even during season 8, after episode 2, Bryan Cogman made this really telling comparison between Sansa and Dany:

Sansa knows that of all the Starks that were ripped from Winterfell, she suffered the most to get it back. She’s the driving force for getting it back. Now she’s being told, “It’s not yours, and it’s not the Starks’ anymore. It belongs to Hitler’s daughter, the worst person in the world’s daughter, the daughter of the person who murdered your grandfather and uncle in the worst way possible. And guess what? Your brother, who you convinced to step up when he wanted to fuck off because of his death experience, bent the knee to her and is telling you that she’s your queen.” What part of Sansa’s reaction to any of this is irrational?

At the same time, if you’re Dany, this is the family that stole your family’s legacy. You grew up as a child living in constant fear that you were going to be murdered the next day. Then you’re married off to a warlord, and you’ve scraped and suffered and endured, and here you are. You’re going to help these people who destroyed your life and your family’s lives. Where’s the gratitude?

Even if he described both sides’ positions and sentiments, if you say one side’s reaction is not irrational, and then call the other side “Hitler’s daughter”, you know exactly who is the good guy and who is the evil one. 

D&D surely sugarcoated Dany, they were not calling her plainly “The Mad King’s Daughter”, but they were subtly telling us that she indeed was Aery’s pretty version: 

Jon: She’ll be a good queen. For all of us. She’s not her father.

Sansa: No, she’s much prettier.

—GOT season 8 - episode 1

In that “I stand by Daenerys” article, the interviewer recalled Kit Harington’s words about Jon killing Dany, during season 8 filming:

“I think it’s going to divide,” Harington says of the finale’s fan reaction. “But if you track her story all the way back, she does some terrible things. She crucifies people. She burns people alive. This has been building. So, we have to say to the audience: ‘You’re in denial about this woman as well. You knew something was wrong. You’re culpable, you cheered her on.’”

Harington adds he worries the final two episodes will be accused of being sexist, an ongoing criticism of GoT that has recently resurfaced perhaps more pointedly than ever before. “One of my worries with this is we have Cersei and Dany, two leading women, who fall,” he says. “The justification is: Just because they’re women, why should they be the goodies? They’re the most interesting characters in the show. And that’s what Thrones has always done. You can’t just say the strong women are going to end up the good people. Dany is not a good person. It’s going to open up discussion but there’s nothing done in this show that isn’t truthful to the characters. And when have you ever seen a woman play a dictator?”

After reading what Kit said, Dany stans gone rabid. They said things like HBO forced him to say those words and others simply insulted and hated him. Because, you know, he is wrong. D&D are also wrong. They are just a pair of white misogynist dudes that can’t stand women in power… SHAME! SHAME! SHAME!

I mean, look at these headlines. Dany stans/targ lovers are now justifying genocide. They are making/selling/buying “Her Satanic Majestic” T-shirts. 

So there you have it Anon. Some of them decided to believe Dany will still be the hero in the Books, because she ended slavery you know, that’s not what villains do, if you think different, you are a slavery apologist, also misogynist, and surely a Stark stan, those fucking classists xenophobes…   

Some others just joined “Her Satanic Majesty” cult. Those ungrateful peasants deserved to be burned alive because they didn’t love Dany. it was their fault that Dany had to go in guns blazing on them. Burn them all! Dracarys! Fire and Blood! 

It would be a long ride Anon.  

[aqvarius]

If the MC from rmd was more mature and if rmd wasn't a love choice story with less episodes, would it be better? Or is there more stuff that needs changes?

yeah i do think so! so i think they tried to emulate hlitf (and mpd maybe? i’m not familiar enough with mpd to be able to say). in thinking about rmd and its future (in response to another ask which i’m still working on bc i lost my whole essay the other day lmao), i kind of theorise that they wanted rmd to be the next Big Title with a full lineup of “ensemble cast” type characters, instructor-student type dynamic (which can then ‘progress’ to colleague level), lots of lore/backstory, potential for lots of substories. the backlash against love choice has been strong in both japanese and international fandom as far as i know so i really think that was a big hindrance in terms of drumming up success for a title that is set up to have a LOT of content. hlitf has always had a leg up bc from the start, it rode off the success of msb and the demand for more public safety content, which is why right from the very start, they tried to push crossovers with hlitf/mpd. the very first rmd substory is a takado/kirisawa crossover, and then they had that extremely gratuitous cameo in ayumu (aka voltage’s king) season 3 in both the ms AND his pov. they keep pushing these crossovers, like with the vip room event which just came to love 365. 

ANYWAY, the more i think about it, the more i’m convinced that they’re trying to emulate some of the successes of hlitf, so i find it a pretty useful point of comparison to see the things which i find are lacking in rmd. 

so yes i definitely think that i wish the rmd mc was more vulnerable and maybe more romantically inclined and just generally more emotionally mature? i’ve said i wish she made more mistakes but i when i think about it more, i do see some parallels between dr mc and hlitf season 1 mc in that they go into a new learning environment with a certain set of values that get challenged. so i am willing to acquiesce on that point i’ve made before about her errors, since i do think that her values and the choices she makes because of those values get called into question (coming off the back of reading matsunaga’s routes, i do see this happen). also i’ve said this before but just to reiterate, i do also think that there’s a tone shift in the translation that to my perception (re-?)characterises the mc as being blase which i feel comes at the expense of genuine emotional connection between the reader and the heroine. however, i do also think that this tone perception thing is very subjective bc it reads as being quite american to me which is something that (1) is foreign to me as a non-american and (2) gives me a feeling of incongruence bc i’m very aware that this is japanese media. either way, i think in a long form title, there is potential for her to grow/develop when it comes to emotional maturity and romantic development, which leads me to my second point...

ANYWAY, the biggest (writing) issue that i find with rmd is its lack of romance FOR SUCH A LONG ROUTE. generally the main point of otome games is the romantic aspect, which i find to be super lacking in a game where romance is literally right there in the title. so one of my favourite things about hlitf is that we have the whole “meeting him” route before the “falling in love” route, and that generally each season is split into two halves in which the first half feels complete as a route on its own, but its strengths in setting up plot and character/relationship development become highlighted in the second half of the season (i know i talk about this a lot but kaga’s season 2 is the PRIME example of this). hlitf’s “meeting him” stories all tend to have abysmal ratings (which.... i pretend i do not see it) because of people not getting that they’re just introducing the characters and setting up their dynamic first. because of this, we essentially get a (relatively) slow burn romance that takes 20 chapters (or in tsugaru’s case.... 60 chapters lmao, or we’ll say 30 bc he has shorter chapters) to get to fruition. 

so romance md has 30 chapters to get the job done, which SHOULD mean that there should be better pacing to get to the relationship stage, right? rmd does a similar thing to hlitf’s split routes where there’s generally one “introductory” case which introduces a moral dilemma, which then ties into a second case. in hlitf, the introductory case in ms1 serves to introduce us to the love interest’s personality and way of working as well as helping the two characters become closer by spending more time together. then it links to ms2 in that it tends to lead into wider criminal activity that may or may not be related to the love interest’s primary negative characteristics, and most importantly, the mc is instrumental in helping the LI overcome that issue (e.g. goto’s paranoia about losing colleagues/partners, kaga’s problems with internal corruption within the NPA, soma’s trust issues and devaluing of those around him, ayumu’s unrequited love). so let’s say that a full rmd route is equivalent to ms1+ms2 in hlitf. 

rmd does a very similar thing in terms of plot structure with the main difference being that the medical cases tend to align explicitly with the LIs’ traumatic pasts, where in hlitf it’s a bit more indirect (only goto and soma have had their primary vengeance arcs complete). so why does the pacing feel so off? i think that the reason for that is that there is just so little energy put into romantic development. one thing to note is that the mc has already fallen by episode 10 of ms1, i.e. halfway through the ‘full’ route. the only rmd route that i’ve read where the mc has already caught feelings at that point is hosho’s route, where she realises in chapter 15 (which is why i did write in my review that i thought the pacing was better). secondly, it’s a LOT harder in rmd to see not just the mc’s feelings developing, but the progression of the love interest’s feelings. imo this is because they basically treat her uhhhh the same from start to finish??? she runs her mouth from day one and even during very intimate conversations, so i feel like there is no sense of increasing emotional closeness - it’s more just that we (the third person reader) get to know more about the love interest’s past and i guess we see them becoming friends? rather than seeing two people growing closer with romantic attraction. contrast this with hlitf, where they were never ‘friendly’ and the relationship that starts blossoming between them was always overtly special and romantic relationship and the way in which the love interest softens for his mc is already evident by the end of ms1. this means that we get a whole 10 more chapters for this development to really take its time to get to where it needs to go. this also means that we actually see obvious burgeoning attraction (or special treatment) before we get to any sort of climax confession scene. i feel like the mc’s lack of manners/impertinence familiarity with the LIs from the very start means that it’s a lot harder to see the dynamic between the two of them changing. just compare the way that dr mc and takado talk to each other in ch1 and ch29 vs the way that hlitf mc and kaga talk to each other in ms1 ch 1 and ms2 ch 8. i would argue that the action scene in the collapsing building in takado’s chapter TWENTY SEVEN is about equivalent to the action climax scenes that happen in hlitf ms1 chapter NINE.

(oh and i also think that the whole talking about how physically beautifully they are to their faces from day one also hinders the sense of growing mutual attraction.)

another GIANT hindrance is that a lot of the key bonding moments are actually paywalled behind heart scenes so you really don’t get anything if you don’t dish out THANKS LOVE CHOICE. 

anyway, long story short is that romance md spends waaay too long and focusses way too much on plot stuff and character backstory (if you can even unlock it lmao) and leaves maybe 5% at the very end for romance rather than having a romantic element integrated throughout the story. if i were to try and compare it to hlitf again, i would say that to me, rmd routes feel like if hlitf ms1 was as it is but then there was one extra chapter at the end where it just goes straight to confession without the entirety of ms2′s development. but also like at least 2x longer. like imagine if we had ms1 and ms2 but there was no romantic engagement or indication of any romantic interest from the love interest in 20 whole chapters except you suddenly get one confession but only in the happy ending. actually matsunaga’s doctor ending literally FLOORED me like ???????? it’s literally like imagine if you only got through namba’s ms1 and half of ms2 (to that scene outside the dorms when you know what happens) and THAT’S WHERE IT ENDS LASKDJFLKSJ they finally had some early emotional awareness on the part of the mc and then they had to go and make it ENTIRELY one sided with not just zero but actually NEGATIVE romantic intention from the love interest i’m screaming 

tl;dr: my biggest problem with romance md is that it’s literally SO LONG but there’s no romance 

[illegiblewords]

5 Questions for Writers!

               5 Questions for Writers                                                        

I got tagged by @kunstpause, it looked like fun so figured I’d go for it! THANKS TO KUNST!

Tagging @wouldyouliketoseemymask, @nilim, @azwoodbomb, @peregrineroad, @frostmantle, @autumnslance, @strangefellows, @redbud-tree, @nozomikei​, and @rivenroad​. No obligation to anyone but full permission to steal granted to anyone else who might like to. I’ll literally be delighted if you pick this up spontaneously and blame me as an excuse lmao.

1. Do you have a favorite character to write? Who and why?

2. Do you have a favorite trope to write? Or one you want to write?

3. Share your favorite description you’ve written?

4. Share your favorite dialogue you’ve written?

5. Scene you haven’t written, but want to?

I made long answers so have a cut!

1. Do you have a favorite character to write? Who and why?

It depends heavily on what fandom and where I am mentally, but I’ve figured out I tend to love writing angsty lameass dudes with blonde hair who are prone to doing really silly things despite taking themselves entirely too seriously. Honestly, I have a pretty huge track record at this point. Harvey Dent, Vexen, Dmitri, Lahabrea, probably more besides. Every one of them fits the right balance of lameass to angst. I like seeing them grow and find fulfillment as people and they are very very cute while still having an edge of badassery and cleverness. Also they’re funny.

Lahabrea is my favorite at the moment, and him reaching that position is an accomplishment considering how stiff the competition is in FFXIV. Loser tricked his way to the top while I was busy laughing at him.

2. Do you have a favorite trope to write? Or one you want to write?

I really, really, really love redemption arcs and people recovering from fucked up experiences. Latter case especially I love seeing characters in those situations successfully connect to the people and world around them, especially if they get to grow together with a partner. I also LOVE “hero saves the villain and villain takes it to heart”.

(You may be sensing a theme here haha.)

There are a few reason these concepts resonate with me, the first being I think they’re really hopeful, inspiring, and something I always wanted to see growing up but rarely did.

People fuck up in life. People get hurt in horrible ways that bring out the worst in them. Sometimes when that happens they dig themselves deeper and deeper into ugliness. The more a person’s bad side comes out, the more hopeless it can feel. And for mental illness especially I’ve found this can be a major issue.

Everyone makes mistakes and everyone has flaws, but I think there’s something really significant in seeing someone who has hit rock bottom, who can no longer imagine a way out, get offered a hand for support and take it. While recovery and redemption (not synonymous of course) ultimately need to be carried by the individual struggling, I really can’t understate how important it is to know in those situations that you’re not alone and someone believes in you.

I think a big part of why this theme is important to me is because mental illness, both genetic and due to trauma, is something unbelievably difficult and painful not only for the sufferer but those around them. The most mentally ill characters in fiction tend to be villains, and are disproportionately more likely to be suffering severe trauma. It frustrated me since I was pretty young to see over and over again cases where a mess could have been avoided if there was any support system in place.

Seeing compassion and connection given that kind of power means a lot to me, as does recognizing that villains are people before they are villains. It’s also very reassuring in the sense of “If this person fucked up that badly but still tried to better themself, I can too. And odds are I’m also worthy of love and compassion, even when my issues make things harder for others. I just have to keep working to improve.”

3. Share your favorite description you’ve written?

Eff.

Straight up I think I’ve written too much to have just one favorite description. It’s been a lot of years and I have hundreds of fics and I’m lame. So I’m going to put a few of my favs.

Anytime there’s a gap in block quotes it’s a different section within the same fic.

22 - A Batman Fanfic

He trembles beneath the weight of their expectations but his smile never fades flashes before cameras microphones under his nose crowds screaming questions bleeding together he answers like clockwork the District Attorney who must bring justice to us all paying tribute to false idols with golden hair and silver tongues we the people bow down in worship to this guardian of the law with words and deeds I believe in Harvey Dent so he swears in hallowed halls to bring prosperity to smite the wicked to damn the criminal with authority invested in him by Gotham’s dutiful children and himself.

***

On the precipice of victory we stand united our voice raised like a torch like a spear like a golden arrow against the beast of Lerna we are gods and monsters we are so much more than good and evil we are order in the court cauterizing corruption our head held high and mighty manifest in Harvey of the doubletalk Harvey who writes himself into the fabric of Gotham’s history Harvey who will not bend before the Roman we command you the unworthy we condemn you the unrighteous we will not be merciful and you will fall before our eyes.

***

I am Dionysus divided at the altar of Tyche O Fortuna O Fortuna give me guidance in the light of the moon you dance sacred silver dollar I see and obey the wax and wane your whim Wheel of Fortune the card I am dealt your servant your slave venerated puppet of flesh blessed is your wisdom bestowed upon I am your disciple wine-mad twisted chanting your word becomes law holy splendor against gavels desecrating your name defiant in denial extend your will through me and we shall strike the innocent enlighten the ignorant or spare them all for now.

Doppelganger - A Spider-Man Fanfic

She asks him to tell the story of himself, and like Scheherazade he begins anew each day.

As with many other things, this comparison is imperfect. The Ravencroft Institute is hardly a palace and neither of them could pass for royalty. She sits in a chair across from him over a carpet the color of sawdust. Her walls are lined with insects pinned on display. Not many butterflies, quite a few beetles. On a bookshelf Dmitri sees The Metamorphosis nestled between non-fiction texts more relevant to her profession. He thinks maybe it's an inside joke she has with herself, but doesn't say so.

He's received an invitation to call her Ashley instead of Dr. Kafka and doesn't know whether to accept. It might be to make him more comfortable. It might be something else. In her late fifties Kafka is built from delicate features, and he suspects the lines around her eyes mean they crinkle when she smiles. Short black hair, beige suit, only jewelry a pair of diamond stud earrings. Dmitri thinks she looks like a mother, but not his.

Her weight sinks into leather, darker than the floor. The couch he rests on matches. He finds himself leaning forward with one elbow propped on his thigh, the other locked in a cast suspended by his neck. There is something reassuringly empty in the gray fabric of his uniform, cheap and utilitarian and harmless. Dmitri’s wrists are thin, but then he's lost a lot of weight recently. He probably wouldn't be able to run as fast as he used to, but then circumstances would be the same anywhere he went so that really doesn't matter. His espionage days are over. His free arm is shedding in flakes but at least his skin is dry. Clean.

Dmitri no longer looks like anyone, unrecognizable to himself. A face without much in the way of edges, short nose. Weak chin. Mismatched eyes that shift between green and blue and brown and every other natural hue as moments pass into minutes pass into hours. Dark blotches interrupt his forehead and chin. They will peel in new patterns across a span of days. For the most part though, he is pale enough to trace veins where his body seems on the brink of spilling out.

It's been a while since he shaved his head and the hair that grows back is almost foreign. An unruly mess of black, blond, brunet, and red—strands as unlike in texture as anything else. The mask that made him Chameleon was white plastic embedded with hardware. Left deformed after trying to resemble others in flesh too many times, it allowed him to duplicate any face, any body he could remember. More than holograms, the most complete sensory illusions technology could perform.

Without it, Dmitri feels stripped.

When Kafka looks at him she’s receiving constant signals and missing none of them. The moments he needs to turn away, flat monosyllabic turns of phrase he chooses or resorts to or blankly accepts as his own. It doesn’t have to be this way. It isn’t comfortable and he doesn’t even trust it’s not calculated. But she’s going to notice no matter what he does at this point, and lying about it doesn’t do anyone much good. They both know why he’s here.

***

“We were poor. We worked hard to keep ourselves fed and clothed and less than an embarrassment. I probably could have worked harder. Mother,” he begins before stumbling over himself.

The story he’s telling isn’t hers. Whatever else she was, Sonya Smerdyakov wasn’t Mrs. Bates. He remembers her voice as the beginning of an echo, forever following someone else’s lead.

And so he followed her.

She was bright like a light going out. She was gentle without being kind. Her fingers were short and delicate and she touched him as little as possible. He found her attention in the way she avoided his name.

***

In the privacy of his room, Dmitri began talking to himself.

Celebrities. Teachers. Children. The flat, steady rhythm of his father’s voice. The words and intonations favored by mother. Sergei’s laugh. He lost himself in a fantasy of conversations, strode through space to mimic confidence he didn’t feel, flashed teeth in front of his mirror like other people.

Once, Dmitri raised his voice. And when his older brother came, eyebrows knitting in confusion, he found himself full of stammered explanations, hands fumbling at his elbows, stumbling over his tongue to make sense of it.

Just making stories for himself. A game with no ending. That was all.

***

He would have died in that town under the eyes of speechless parents. Dmitri remembers the confusion that took his peers when he found a job for people who spoke for themselves. They thought he might be growing up.

He could lie. And when he began he understood it would always be a game with no ending.

Dmitri lost himself in a fantasy of conversations with real people and a voice that didn’t belong to him.

They asked a stranger to sign their yearbooks without even realizing it.

And then he was eighteen, and he left to continue elsewhere.

He didn’t announce his departure.

From Umbra - A Final Fantasy XIV Fanfic

It was probably a dream.

Lukewarm water crept down his throat, nearly making him choke. A skin pressed to his lips, insistent. He coughed, and for the first time there was moisture enough for resistance.

The face that obscured his vision was shrouded in white cloth. Cenric found he couldn’t focus on it. Mismatched eyes, one light and the other dark. Impossible to say if blindness caused the inconsistency.

A string of shells dangled from the figure’s neck, rattling gently. The skin pulled back for a moment. Careful. Patient.

It returned only once he'd grown quiet. Cenric drank for as long as he could. Impossibly, a great deal remained by the time he relinquished his hold.

There wasn't enough of him present to say thank you. Cenric barely registered being dragged, being carried onto a cart. Awareness was altogether gone by the time they started to move.

***

…to the blessed traders who enrich our lives we’re bound to pay with our lives in turn aether born fire-walker your will sees us to rest we entrust ourselves to your sight forged of oschon for peace and prosperity and an ending you do not weep for father azeyma lives in the earth with you her fan brings no breeze the air is hot and thick and breathless your domain a silent place that does not stir have you forgotten the sound of your own voice have you known what it is to live and fail have you been alone do you know what it is to die how can a god pass judgment without being judged nald’thal lord of departures of flame and sand whose coin purse overflows who knows not what it means to starve what it means to spoil the legacy of one who loved you nald’thal who holds shells and souls and precious stones as if their worth were equal nald’thal who cannot know mercy without knowing pain who are you to weigh mortal affairs?

***

In darkness he unwinds the black bandana, steps first from his slops and then his kurta. Yuyudana has provided robes, which rest neatly on a small rock nearby. It crosses Cenric’s mind that the bones of his knees, his hips, his wrists, even his face have all started to protrude strangely. He looks less hyuran than before, maybe less than he ever has. Closer to something priests would exorcise than anyone deserving aid.

He wonders if this idea has occurred to them.

The water, when he advances, is cold. Goosebumps raise across his skin as slowly, gingerly, he wades in to his waist.

Cenric ducks under.

His hair is a long and tangled wreck. Being wet only disguises this slightly. It drifts past his neck, comes to float near the surface. Cenric holds himself in silence, eyes open, watching the silver scatter of light over stones and plants and fish. He remains for as long as he can bear.

His vision stings afterward. Gasping, he can’t tell if the cause is exposure or something else. For a time he simply waits, breathing hard through his nose, hunched so that his lips are partially submerged.

He thinks of nothing, pretends that this time instead of no future he has no past.

Only one moon remains. Maybe the sky aches for losing Dalamud, but better that than the blow which scarred Eorzea.

Stalemate - A Final Fantasy XIV Fanfic

He is presented with impressions of a horse, gaunt and fetid and decayed. Spreading ruin wheresoever it goes. Occasionally it sloughs off portions of its own flesh, which collect flies and blacken any land that surrounds. On its back rests a world, and alongside it does the herd struggle under their own burdens. But even beasts of such endurance have limits. Theirs are reached. When the rotten steed lags, its companions cannot afford to falter. Cannot turn. Without its ability to bear loads, this aberration has no place. Falling is inevitable.

Yet a heart still beats and lungs yet swell.

The Ascian shivers in his grasp, but does not attempt escape.

Here, something festers. Something bleeds. An old wound exacerbated over time.

Fevered, coated in a film of self-disgust, the core of Lahabrea convulses.

 Don’t…

 Don’t leave me like this…

***

Teeth and tongue. Lingering, wet, disembodied. Another finds his hip. Another his thigh, slipping beneath what clothes remain.

And another.

And another.

Warm, human, seeking. The Warrior tightens his hold, uses the moan crawling from his own chest as incentive. Barred by naught but fabric, driving close as he can manage. Lahabrea makes a strangled sound, his gasp crushed empty. A new mouth finds the dark knight’s ear in response.

These are parts of him no one dares touch, no one dares acknowledge. Slick now, attended with something like reverence. Supplication.

He resolves to fuck the Ascian senseless for this, presses his intent deep into Lahabrea’s aether. He is going to steal all his fancy words away. Make him squirm.

“I… I…” Tight, airless, like a plucked string. The Warrior feels Lahabrea’s voice reverberate against the roof of his mouth.

The feeling is difficult to describe. Cracked ice. A fraying rope. Such is Lahabrea's response, fumbling and disoriented as it is.

The Warrior lets go.

4. Share your favorite dialogue you’ve written?

Just imagine me weeping over here lmao. Same deal as before, I’VE DONE TOO MUCH SHIT.

Spare Change - A Batman Fanfic

"Stop," he gasps, "I wouldn’t—"

"You would Harvey. You did. It’s what makes you such a damn good instrument. You had to test yourself, prove that you’re not a real person.” He can feel fingers grinding against bone. His knees bend. Harvey kneels, shuddering, gazing up into the destruction of his own visage. Two-Face meets his eyes, blue on blue. “People are weak. People are ruled by what they want and don’t want. You’re capable of anything if the wind blows just right. You can’t even stop yourself.”

"I wouldn’t," he repeats, numbly.

"Did you," demands Two-Face, forcing him down further, "or did you not flip for their lives, Harvey Dent?"

"We…We aren’t the same people anymore."

"Of COURSE we’re the same people!" Another shove and he’s on the ground, Two-Face sitting on his chest, teeth bared, coin clenched tight between them. "Do you really think you can close your eyes and pretend you aren’t capable of these things? They’re alive," and there is something hideous in his expression, something certain, "because they were lucky. No other reason.”

"The coin is gone! Even if I wanted to listen to it—I can’t!”

"If you’re so sure," says Two-Face, "then how about you improvise?”

And with one motion the silver dollar is under his tongue, forced back so hard he feels himself gag and begin to choke before his eyes open.

The Inquisitor’s Letters - A Dragon Age: Inquisition Fanfic

To His Worship Inquisitor Mahanon Lavellan of Skyhold, My name is Isell from Amaranthine and I’m seven. My mum is helping but says I can send you all by myself. Thank you for fixing the hole in the sky and also the one by the dead man’s house. There were demons but they’re mostly gone now and people are going outside now. Da says Amaranthine has been through too much and can survive anything and he says you’re an elf like us and the Hero of Ferelden was an elf too. He says people used to think elves can’t be heroes but now they don’t. Have you met the Hero of Ferelden? Also I heard that even though you’re Dalish Andraste helped you in the Fade and that humans let you be in the Chantry because anyone Andraste likes must be a really good person. What’s Andraste like? The Chant says a lot but it’s different meeting someone I think. Also I think I saw you a little before but Mum wasn’t sure because you had a helmet on and we were far away and there were a lot of people but I bet it was you. Da wasn’t sure I should write because he says the Dalish don’t like city elves like we are but I think you must be nice and Mum agrees with me. I’ve been playing demon hunters with my brother Arrion (he’s just five still) and Da said templars are who fights demons usually and elves can’t be templars. People thought elves couldn’t be heroes and inquisitors though and we are so I bet I could too. Is it hard fighting demons? Da says they’re real scary but I’m not scared. Thank you for helping us and everyone and I hope you kill lots of demons. Sincerely, Isell U’venlan

From Umbra - A Final Fantasy XIV Fanfic

Cenric sits on the floor, draped in a white cotton tunic. It might have been snug on a Roegadyn but anyone else would find ample room. Behind him, Memesu stands on a cot holding shears. Gold earrings dangle on either side of her face.

“I fought at Carteneau, you know,” she mentions casually. There is a soft hsssssshhhh. Click.

Hair hits the floor. Coils.

He starts to shake his head, aborts the gesture partway through. Stills. “…you saw Bahamut?”

Memesu snorts. “I’m sure everyone this side of Hydaelyn saw Bahamut.” Click.

“That’s probably true,” he concedes. The dragon is what everyone knows, everyone remembers. He can't imagine the proximity. “What about the Warriors of Light?”

“Pff.” Gentle tugging at his scalp. Cenric does not open his eyes but leans into the motion. “I wasn’t of rank to see their like. Not that I’d remember. Stop moving.” Click.

Cenric hesitates.

“What do you remember, then?”

For a time, the only sound comes from blades and a thousand strands cut short. This lasts for several minutes. Cenric resigns himself to secrets.

Then, “I used to think I was special too. As a twin. My sister was Memeni. We studied together.”

 Was.

The exhale hits him slowly, quietly.

“She died?”

He can feel the shrug in her hip against his shoulder.

“It was Carteneau,” says Memesu. “Of course she died.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Click. “It had nothing too do with you. If you keep trying to claim responsibility for every misfortune you find, you’re going to get self-important.”

Cenric only grunts, quiet and non-committal.

 Click.

 Click.

 Click.

“Carteneu was so much worse than people remember. Only four years later and already we hurry to dispose of details.” There is a hard undercurrent to Memesu’s voice, but what contact she makes remains light. Careful. “I remember the arcanist from Limsa who didn’t dodge a magitek canon in time. Miqo’te. Spells come faster in that discipline, so there’s less stress on distance than thaumaturgy. Girl got careless.” Click. “The mess smelled like rotten eggs and charcoal. Her face was… melted.” Click. “I try not to look in those situations. They only make casting harder. But she was so close.”

Cenric doesn’t move. Doesn’t say a word.

Memesu continues. “One of our own gladiators, an Ala Mhigan, took to mutilating any pureblooded Garleans he could catch. The man had a string of eyes hanging around his neck. I’m pretty sure one enemy officer wet himself before he started to beg. Not that it particularly mattered.”

 Click.

“Memeni… didn’t anticipate what she was getting herself into. She saw magic as a way of being useful to craftsmen. My focus has always been theoretical. Right side.” Startled, Cenric lets her guide his jaw to get a better view of his profile. Click. Click. “Meni used to think I was a priss. She preferred to develop magitek kettles alongside alchemists. See if she could find a way to capture light like the Mhachi did. She still enjoyed fishing when she could, even though it smelled awful. Never outgrew the braids she wore growing up. ” Memesu sighs. “…just understand she died afraid, in pain, and with things left undone. My sister didn’t even resemble herself at the end.”

Cenric is very still. Thinks carefully.

“…I wish it could have gone differently,” he says at last.

Memesu’s mouth slides up in a small, crooked smile. She tousles the neat, ear-length hair before her. “So do I.”

Eclipse - A Final Fantasy XIV Fanfic

It ends at Elidibus’ untimely arrival.

“Lord Zodiark,” he says, so smoothly that were he not searching for it that the anger would be undetectable, “appreciates your attentions.”  His gaze does not waver from Lahabrea as he speaks. “But there is work to be done and I’m afraid there are words I would have with your Speaker.”

They disperse.

Nabriales, careful and curious, folds himself out of sight beyond the chamber then makes his way back to its edge.

Lahabrea, farthest from the exit, attempts to steal some small dignity. Turns to face Elidibus.

The Emissary makes him wait. Expressionless red masks matched by those who wear them.

Then, with more speed and force than typical for his demeanor, the Emissary closes distance to trap his colleague against the wall.

“It was my error,” hisses Elidibus, leaning in, “to have stayed silent upon rescuing you. A mistake I will remedy now, so we can be on no uncertain terms.”

Lahabrea lowers his eyes. Nabriales notes that despite the dread they all share of such reprimands, the man does not brace.

“You know as well as I that these words offer less succor to our Lord than action,” continues Elidibus, his fury quiet and no less sharp for that, “just as we both know your thoughtless action is the cause of repeated missteps these past centuries. Make no mistake—for all the strides you’ve made, your fixation and your impatience have cost the rest of us considerable time.”

Silence.

“Do you truly think this is your best service to Him?” asks Elidibus. “To us? Compromising your ability to fill the hours? Even Emet-Selch agrees these displays are disgraceful. You have ever borne them poorly, but being a 'paragon among paragons' naturally you continue ignoring your own better judgment with ours to continue this exercise in futility. Idiot.”

A twitch of the head. Almost a flinch.

It is one of few moments Nabriales has seen the Emissary express his anger so openly. Even after the Thirteenth fell to Igeyorhm’s error, Elidibus allowed the Angel of Truth to lead and voiced his own reproach with a more typical icy demeanor. Scathing though it was.

“I can be of use,” says Lahabrea softly. “Only three of us remain, and I—“

“You,” Elidibus snaps, “cannot follow the most simple instructions for the good of us all. Not for Him, not for Amaurot, not even for yourself. Your pride has made you not simply an embarrassment but a liability.”

Neither man speaks for several moments after that.

And then, at length, Elidibus exhales.

Says the Speaker’s name.

Receives his attention.

“What would you have me do?” the Emissary asks. His tone now is almost weary. “Clearly it would be unreasonable to trust you’d simply listen. Must I mind you like a child?” This is what breaks Lahabrea’s composure.

Knowing the man’s temper, Nabriales had expected him to lash out. Even on the back foot their orator is perfectly capable of defending himself from insults.

Instead, he embraces Elidibus fiercely—face just within the bounds of his pauldrons. Jaw locked shut firmly enough to hurt. Expression downcast.

Elidibus remains perfectly still at first. In the absence of conversation it is possible to hear the rush of Lahabrea’s breathing. Only through the nose, withheld briefly between each inhale as if that offers some means to steady himself.

As if that would make it better.

Tentatively, Elidibus holds him back. Lahabrea's fingers contract, and though he remains upright when his knees begin to give it is the Emissary who helps him kneel.

“Easy,” he murmurs, and Lahabrea removes one hand to run it reflexively over his face—coming against the mask.

Nabriales finds himself staring, searching. A puzzle with missing pieces whose image he may yet divine

“It was not,” says Lahabrea roughly, “my intention to…”

Elidibus reaches beneath the other man’s cowl, finds the hair and skin beneath. Draws him in once more.

Naught that would be shared with or among the Sundered. Nothing so personal as that.

Nabriales has worn his own share of flesh. Bedded lovers, adopted companions and families of vessels to fulfill a purpose. Passable enough, perhaps, but never for him. Not in truth.

It’s as if he looks upon two strangers.

Parched - A Final Fantasy XIV Fanfic

The door closes behind them. Lahabrea, projecting his preferred likeness over the host, waits on a couch within.

It’s admittedly a surreal sight. Ishgardian finery with its gilded edges, its elaborate wallpapers and marble floors. A collection of creams and blues and greens, fine furniture with velvet seat cushions. All ostentatious in the extreme… and then Lahabrea. Masked and cowled. Pouring three glasses of La Noscean arrack.

Elidibus freezes, and though none of them can see his eyes the confusion is clear enough.

“What is this?”

“Your turn,” says Emet-Selch, lightly but less flippant than he might have been.

Lahabrea proffers a cup from where he sits.

Elidibus neither moves nor speaks.

Emet-Selch approaches. Takes the drink. Presses it carefully into the other man’s hand.

“Don’t think,” he says smoothly,” that I won’t let you drop it.”

Mercifully, Elidibus has a good grip.

“Sit,” says Lahabrea, gesturing with his own glass to the sofa across from him.

Elidibus sits.

Emet-Selch sits.

Takes his own glass, perhaps a bit pointedly.

Elidibus’ mouth is pressed tight. It opens briefly, as if to speak. Shuts again.

“Explain,” the Emissary manages eventually.

Lahabrea meets his co-conspirator’s eye. Downs his arrack in a single attempt.

It is a long attempt.

It lasts several moments.

The other Ascians watch.

“Elidibus,” says Emet-Selch as Lahabrea endeavors to catch his breath in the aftermath, “Lahabrea and I are concerned that you may be experiencing some difficulties in recent years.”

“I’m fine,” replies Elidibus coldly. Holding his drink. “Why did you think this necessary?”

“Because—“ wheezes Lahabrea.

“Because you’re practically a mammet,” says Emet-Selch, picking up Lahabrea’s glass. Moving it just out of reach. “Truly. It’s been what, two hundred years? Three? Neither of us can remember the last time you so much as spoke of matters unrelated to the Rejoining.”

Lahabrea reaches. Elidibus pours his arrack into the other man’s glass before nudging it back toward him.

Elidibus makes eye contact with Emet-Selch.

“I remain focused,” he says evenly. “Nothing more.”

Emet-Selch gestures to the bottle.

Elidibus sighs.

Refills his own glass.

“There are matters I must attend myself. As is the case with each of you.”

“Undoubtedly,” replies Lahabrea more evenly. “But with few exceptions, you haven’t done so.”

A hard stare from behind the mask.

“What would you have me do? I can’t very well take time off.”

Emet-Selch sips.

“A negligible amount of time,” he says, “taken sparingly, may be forgivable.”

5. Scene you haven’t written, but want to?

Lmao see this is a plus side/minus side deal. Minus side, it’s being asked just before I embark on a MASSIVE ASS FANFIC. And I basically am excited for all of it. Plus side, there are things I refuse to spoil.

So... putting it vaguely, in no particular order:

- Lahabrea and Hydaelyn meet a second time after Praetorium.

- Moonfire Faire

- Thancred

- Conversations over mulled wine

- Silvertear Lake

Some of these are sex scenes. Most aren’t. But I am very hyped.

[missnight0wl]

So I have some problems with our conversation with Dumbledore in Y6Ch4.

First of all, it happened way too late. It’s pretty clear at this point that MC is building emotional boundaries to deal with their situation: by focusing on helping their friends and all kind of different activities. There was a point when those boundaries were thinner due to shock from the Portrait Vault, and this was when they should’ve broken. But now, after the fifth year’s ending, after two months of summer, and all the things that happened already in the sixth year? They have so much to cut themselves off with. I’m sorry, but the whole sentimental chit-chat with the Headmaster was totally meaningless at this point, in my opinion.

Another thing, it was painfully simplified. I know that it’s just a mobile game, and for most of the time, I really enjoy it despite its limitation. But MC’s emotional state is something deserving more attention and effort. At least let us talk about different aspects separately.

Finally, Dumbledore is really not the right person for that kind of conversation. Seriously. And two of his reactions are actually something I want to focus on.

First, the option “I’m angry” where Dumbledore in his reply said this:

Is Rakepick a manipulator? Yes. A master manipulator, though? Nah, not really. Let’s start from the beginning. Did she really manipulate anyone to get back to Hogwarts? Well, no. Unless you want to say that she became a world-famous Curse-Breaker with that goal in mind… I don’t even think we can suspect she was the one to tamper with the first Vault to put it all in motion. Because then, why she let Dumbledore search for her for such a long time? Whether she didn’t want to be found or it was something not depending on her, she didn’t put much effort into coming back.

She manipulated Dumbledore into hiring her as a DADA professor? Cool, maybe. But so what? She was already at Hogwarts in year 4. She had enough power from the Headmaster that she could give us house points. She needed that teacher position like a fish needs a bicycle. Heck, I still don’t understand why she took it as it was more of an inconvenience for her.

I’m sorry, but I also have a hard time saying MC followed her with the Portrait Vault. We were doing the same thing as in the previous years – Rakepick basically happened to be around. And while she kind of manipulated us into searching for the Marauder’s Map (still don’t know why), she was also the one to inform us about the vault portrait that we needed either way. If not for her, we’d probably spend the same time on figuring out the portrait thing as we wasted on the Map.

She didn’t even use the trust she had with Merula and Bill in her advantage. I don’t get why she didn’t try to use it in the Vault. For example, MC opens the door, they want to go inside, but Rakepick says it’s too dangerous and she’ll go alone first. MC protests, but Bill and Merula supports Rakepick. The quarrel ends with Patricia knocking out everyone. Anything. Merula threw some minor tantrum in Y5Ch29, but Bill? Rakepick could’ve easily used his admiration and told him something like: “MC doesn’t trust me, maybe you could talk to them?”. Yet, we didn’t get any hints something like that had happened. Sure, he was always open about trusting her, but he also didn’t try to change MC’s mind. And you know what? Neither did Rakepick. Until the very last private conversation, she was making sure we don’t trust her.

This screams: “Do not trust me!”. How is it manipulative? I mean, was she hoping for the effect of reverse psychology? Moreover, the game doesn’t even let us declare that we trust her (there were some situations like that, but I believe the last one was like in the first half of the fifth year). On the contrary, we got this in Y5Ch28, for example:

Sure, it’s said by Merula who is terrible at judging people, but still – we couldn’t disagree with her. The game basically forces MC - as a character - into not trusting Rakepick.

Really, they could’ve at least made MC give her something beneficial for her. I can’t count the Portkey here because we all used it. And the only thing that Patricia actually manipulated MC to get and that should be really important for her – the Gillyweed/Coral key – she left behind! She knew it’d be important in the last vault, she said she was looking for it for a long time! Why she didn’t take it with her? I don’t think she was planning to go back to the castle after killing us all. And if Sickleworth was supposed to bring it to her, it was an awfully risky decision. She knew the Niffler is fond of MC so of course he’d give us the key if we happened to encounter him earlier.

Oh, and there’s the Legilimency issue. It was the only reason Rakepick needed MC, right? Great, but then why we learnt about it from Dumbledore and Snape? Patricia didn’t even mention such skill around MC before. So what, I’m supposed to assume that she made someone else inform about it and teach us? All right, then I could maybe call her “a master manipulator”, but also – it’s only on you, Albus. Don’t say “We all were tricked”.

Honestly, at this point, I don’t know anymore if they failed miserably at making her a criminal mastermind, and they have to keep telling us that now, or they failed at it on purpose…

But I digressed. Let’s go back to Dumbledore.

If you choose the option “I’m afraid”, MC ends their answer with this:

To which Dumbledore replies:

And I have to say… 

You old prick. HOW DARE YOU TELL A TERRIFIED CHILD THAT THEY SHARE MANY QUALITIES WITH A CRIMINAL WHO BETRAYED THEM?! 

And no, the addition of “you can choose a different path” doesn’t change shit. You just can’t say that without elaboration, for fuck’s sake! Because MC and Rakepick are nothing alike! Every similarity they share only stress out how much different they are. They’re both ambitious? Sure. MC from the beginning is motivated by finding their brother. Rakepick though, who knows by what, but everything points out now that those are selfish reasons. They’re willing to break rules? Cool. MC does it to help their brother, Rakepick is an anarchist (or whatever). They’re powerful and talented? Check. Too bad MC is hella modest about that in comparison, usually pointing out they have the help of their friends and still much to learn. Rakepick is boastful and arrogant.

THIS IS what MC needed to hear. Not that they “share many qualities”! God… Also, I know I wrote the whole post saying that MC and Rakepick might be indeed more similar than it seems, but I really doubt that it’s what Dumbledore had in mind. And even if, MC couldn’t figure it out on their own.

Now, I see why MC might be afraid they’re like Rakepick. After all, she was comparing them herself. Although, it’s another weird thing about the whole resemblance issue. Patricia was insisting on that in year 4 on a few occasions, but then she sort of… just stop? Even before year 5, I think. To be honest, I’d say she accepted that MC is different than her, and maybe even encourage that.

Remember when Merula was supposed to teach us the Killing Curse?

Rakepick is not surprised here, she’s not annoyed. This situation was always about making Merula feel special, not about MC – because Patricia knows them. She didn’t just predict that because MC refused to learn Crucio. She wasn’t expecting them to want to learn that either. She’s a smart woman, she can judge her apprentices.

Now let’s take a look at Y5Ch29:

And sure, it’s followed by the ominous:

… but if you ask me, she also says here that MC is the only one capable of making reasonable and independent decisions. And considering how Rakepick is an independent woman herself, I can’t see how she wouldn’t see it as the advantage (no, I won’t accept she’s genuinely content or flattered by Merula blindly agreeing with her).

That being said, I don’t quite understand why she said in the Portrait Vault that MC is obsessed with the Cursed Vaults just like her (so not because of finding Jacob). MC stresses all the time that it’s all for their brother, the game doesn’t really give us a chance to hint there might be something more to that. Even if she wanted to mess with MC, it’s probably the worst possible argument as it couldn’t be more clear it’s not true. She could’ve mentioned MC using and manipulating their friends as the resemblance between them (which she kind of did back in year 4 in Filch’s office).

Anyway, Dumbledore is doing terribly at being supportive, and I have to laugh seeing lines like this:

Honestly, I’d rather have this conversation with Flitwick, for example. Not only he happens to be my Head of House, but even this aside, he helped us possibly the most from the faculty. MC goes to him for advice pretty often, and it’s usually at least a little helpful. In my opinion, talking about our emotional state with him would be a bit less meaningless than it was with Dumbledore.

[muthaz-rapapa]

Possible Precure Concept # 4

Phantom Thieves

As promised, here it is.

The idea popped into my head a few months ago. Can’t remember whether or not Yuni made her first appearance at that point yet but whatever.

So! Picture it. A Precure team completely composed of kaitou who go about purifying corrupted artwork/valuable treasure and fighting villains aiming to “taint” the world in desolate colors or something like that (is that too Smile-like? that’s too much like Smile, isn’t it?).

No, you are not wrong. It takes inspiration straight from Kamikaze Kaitou Jeanne, Saint Tail and maybe even a little bit of Persona 5 even though I’ve only watched like the first 6 episodes of the adaptation and never played the game (I can see why it’s so popular, though).

Anyways, I just thought it’d be cool to see Precure’s take on this concept. I wasn’t even deterred when StarPre brought out Blue Cat because it’s not like Toei doesn’t recycle stuff from past seasons.

However, there are several things I believe that can keep it off the consideration table. Like...

1) The one or two people who think it might suggest to kids to become criminals.

......Honestly? Honestly, if you steal only from the dirty rich, then I am absolutely FINE with that. Seriously, have your fun and EAT THE RICH!!

Ok, j/k, j/k except not really but the thing with phantom thieves (besides the fact that they are largely fictional) is that...there’s a sense of romanticism that sets them apart from other types of outlaws. At least the ones I came across, they mostly use trickery and cunning (and their charm) but rarely do they ever resort to violence or worse to get the job done.

And in some cases, the thief may have a noble motive for committing the crimes (like how Yuni did it to reclaim the resources for her home planet but donated everything else to the poor). I think that’s why phantom thieves are so compatible with the magical girl genre.

Because you know the MC is actually a good person performing a heroic deed but at the same time they’re operating well outside of what’s legal. And that’s what makes the story all the more thrilling to follow.

You want them to escape the police. You want them to steal the target. You want them to succeed because at the end of the day, they are not the villain.

That’s exciting, isn’t it? :D

...but hey, y’know...if the writers are afraid of the wrath of a few individuals who take a children’s anime way too seriously then that’s their call. :P

Pretty sure there’s no one that paranoid though...maybe... I dunno.

In any case, we can all agree it’s an interesting pitch, yea?

Yea. Next concern then.

2) It’s already been done.

On top of that, old favorites like KKJ and Saint Tail have the edge of nostalgia supporting them which will inevitably lead to the silly argument of “who did it better”.

Not that that’s ever stopped us before. I mean, look at KiraPre. At the start of its run, it drew tons of comparison with Tokyo Mew Mew but still became a very successful and beloved season among Precure fans.

So really, there is no issue there (in fact, the more magical phantom thieves, the merrier) because the story is likely always going to be different.

Which brings me to my next point...

3) Narrative

Among the majority (or perhaps, the more traditional?) of magical girl series, the plot is usually “normal girl obtains magical powers to fight evil and save the world”.

The plot is simple. The story isn’t.

The story is how you tell the plot.

Which makes comparisons between different series almost kinda pointless because no story progresses the same way as another does nor would they have details that are exactly alike.

Especially if Toei one day decides that it wants to take a shot at this idea for their cash cow franchise, then they already have a striking appeal the two aforementioned titles don’t: a team of phantom thieves.

Granted, that’s easier said than done.

Even though I’m proposing it, I can’t deny it might be hard to pull off well.

I dunno. I’m always under the impression that phantom thieves work better alone (their non-action accomplices aside). Less things to worry about on their end, less things to trip them up.

But why not take on the challenge? If you can manage to get a bunch of colorful personalities and/or headstrong egos to cooperate on big “heists” together, that would be pretty impressive.

Plus, let’s not forget that Toei has 16+ years of trumpeting the magic of “friendship and teamwork” under their belt with 50-so episodes spanning each year-long season to boot. Planning and writing fleshed-out character arcs and group development should be their forte by now.

Admittedly, they’re not always perfect at it but the point is, this is not unfamiliar territory for them.

Of course, there’s a lot more to a story than just its main cast and what razzle dazzle effects they can do. You also need good supporting characters, antagonists worth our attention, interesting (and in this case, clever) one-shot fillers, the usual one or two unexpected twists and perhaps most importantly, a solid narrative theme to work with.

“Phantom thieves” are a motif, not a narrative theme.

A motif is something that helps explains the theme (or message) the show wants to convey.

Like “hope versus despair”, loneliness, love (this one’s been broadly overused but yea, it is one), etc. Those are all themes.

Unfortunately, I can’t think of a theme that would correspond well to “phantom thieves” as motif at the moment.

Hmmm…maybe “justice”?

But what the heck, I’m not part of the writing staff. This is their job to think up, not mine! xP

…still, I think it’ll require a good amount of brainstorming if you really want it to turn out good.

Um…what else?

I guess, just smaller things like whether to use “Cure ______” or “Kaitou _____” because a stock trait of phantom thieves series is that they like to announce themselves as “Phantom Thief so-and-so”…so I’m wondering if the Cure title will even matter?

It feels less like a Precure show if the girls don’t actually call themselves “Cures”, doesn’t it?

Uuuuuuhhhhh…oh yea!

For every phantom thief, there is usually always a detective chasing after them and maybe even a rival thief that comes in later during the story.

I think it’d be a fascinating twist if the detective was a girl in the same class as the starter Cure(s) who ends up befriending said Cure(s) not knowing she’s (they’re) the same as the thief(s) she’s trying to catch. Then the reveal happens at the worse timing (ep 30ish) but she makes the decision to protect the Cure(s)…by becoming a Cure herself…and you can guess at what happens next but it’s pretty predictable. She comes to terms with it and drops her day job to become a magical girl and steal for the sake of good.

..Yea.

As for the rival part, I’m still really pushing for opposing Precure teams. Ideally, a two-against-two scenario where they (maybe one-sidedly) compete to see who can purify the most monsters until circumstances push them to see they’re better working together.

…lol, I dunno. It may not work with the principles of Precure in general but I’m just having a lot of fun right now thinking all this up. xD;

So yea, that’s another big one to add to my Precure wishlist.

If it becomes reality someday, I’ll…well, I’ll definitely not stop screaming for the next five years, that’s for sure. xDD;;;

[nekocosmicgalaxygirl]

☀️KIMETSU NO YAIBA OC☀️

━━━━━━━━※━━━━━━━━

━━━━━━━━※━━━━━━━━

• ~ ✧ Give up? I'm sorry but that's not in my vocabulary ✧ ~ •

      ≫──── ·· ••• ·· ────≪

☀️NAME

=Karui (First Name) Seimei (Last Name) The meaning of his full name is "light of life". It was given by his family, why during his presence is the only light that gives him reason to live for her.  

☀️ NICKNAME

=Ray of light (For his elder brother Taiyo Seimei) Kitsune (For the townspeople because of the fox mask) Dead eyes (for Fuku Saikō) Angel of light (Ryūsa Aisuru)

☀️ AGE

=He is 19 years old, was born on October 29.

☀️ BREED

=Semi Human, because you experienced it with demon parts, you don't even know what it really is.

☀️ GENDER  

=Female.

☀️ SEXUALITY

=Heterosexual.

• ~ There is no doubt that there are stupid people here. ✧ ~ •     

 ≫──── ·· ••• ·· ────≪

☀️APPEARANCE

=She measures 1.71 cm, her weight is 48 kg (She eats a lot of meat because she has a demon stomach since, she never tires of eating)

= Its appearance is light brown skin with a light red tone

= Her eyes are yellow with a shade of orange, many seeing her coldness give her an absolute fear, but she smiles a few times only when seeing her like this one is surprised and causes her tenderness.

=Her hair is of a mixture between yellow and light orange and in her very dark orange tips with a mixture of blood of a crimson red color due to a certain amount of demons that she murdered according to the people of other villages oh other hunters but in reality she was born like this with a strange but striking color  

☀️ CLOTHING

=During her missions, she wears the dress of a demon hunter, apart from the fact that she wears a sun Haori from a sunrise to which it is very striking from time to time she occupies her fox mask of disaster prevention, in her spare time she occupies a kimono of a pastel orange and the middle part of the hair is tied

☀️DISABILITIES

=He has a Scar on the abdomen due to an experiment she suffered.

☀️ IRREGULARITIES

=Since her childhood she had been born with fangs as other children bothered her, treating her like hell

• ~ ✧ I don't know why, but I really get happy when I make others feel good ✧ ~ •

「Psychological aspects」

☀️PERSONALITY

=Karui is a very cold Girl with other people, represses her emotions through a mask, rarely demonstrates her emotions to others, because if it is in an extreme situation or if there is something that at that time can express what she feels doing something that makes her feel good but, almost most of the time she demonstrates seriousness without even having a kind of comparison against a demon because she is still frustrated that she will experience it with demon organs and let her live, after her childhood was a Real nightmare

=In situations of her personality, when she is angry but she is not demonstrating it, what she does is give a knee in the face oh a kick in the stomach, she has a lot of patience but if they annoy her all the time she can get angry.

=But in extreme situations, if a demon manages to get Karui out of his boxes, he may show his true self by turning his eyes a crimson red by releasing his half demon.

=There are times when he can no longer bear the pain of the loss of his loved ones, he begins to cry, releasing all his sorrows.

☀️ LIKES

= Meat and vegetables

=To train

=Cheer on others  

=the animals

☀️ DISLIKES  

=Cockroaches

=The womanies

=The demons

=Be Makeup

☀️ DISORDERS

=For having parts of the devil because of that at night she has nightmares where she loses the beings she loves most, there are times that she cannot wake up because the demon that lives inside her tortures her own need.

☀️ FEARS

= He is afraid of becoming fond of other people who he meets along the way Why after a while he suffers witnessing the raw death of what she has loved.

• ~ ✧I won't stop until that demon is totally eliminated✧ ~ •

「Personal issues」

☀️HISTORY

= At the time the tragedy had arisen, it was at the time that Karui was 6 years old, in her childhood she was very happy, she remained happy, but the other children bothered her by calling her a phenomenon or demon just to be born with fangs, there are times that He witnessed those raw scenes that his beloved older brother was beaten by those children just for defending him.

He didn't care if he was beaten because he was immune to pain but she does care, he hates that his brother is seriously hurt, other than that. that he couldn't do anything to avoid it because he didn't have enough courage to face them and protect his brother, it hurt even his soul There were times when Karui wished she hadn't been born in this world with a lot of cruelty.

She felt a lot of guilt that there are people who belittle her parents, but the strange thing for her is that they didn't care at all at all, all they cared about is that she was happy, they did it so that she was not sad and that she continued to draw a beautiful and radiant smile One day she and her older brother were walking through the forest places collecting peaches until they had suddenly witnessed an appearance of a three-eyed demon and had an ax in a rare way in his hand, the demon noticing the presence of the children were heading quickly to kill them and then eat them, but hopefully they had been saved by a demon hunter who was supposedly a member of the pillars, the pillar of the flames, after a few minutes of making sure she and her brother were Well and that will guide you to your home, it was gone.

A few hours later Karui was alone sitting in the forest of plum blossoms where she was before collecting the fruits together with her brother she knew perfectly that it was dangerous to be alone and just when they had seen a demon in these places but she was quite stealthy at Listen to someone approaching her sense of hearing and apart that at that time there was no sun during the apparition of the devil, she was pondering what happened about what her older brother said about being demon hunters and on what breath, when the child returned home for the time the sun was already setting, when she returned home she witnessed the harsh death of her family among the flames, and the townspeople blamed her that she was responsible from the fire of the other houses, for being a demon, treating her as a murderer, she was in a panic, she had not done anything, she simply did nothing and falsely blamed that she was the monster here, she was thrown into a 3-meter cliff to die .

She thinking that she was going to die giving her last breaths had suddenly woken up in a different place, she was lying in a nursing class but with many damages she realized that she had tubes in her arms and in her abdomen She even had a big scar in that place that suddenly started to hurt, she felt weak because she could not move, unknown men approach her saying that she has a very strange blood, she had saved her life because they introduced organs of hell, they wanted to use it as a weapon against the other demons, Karui felt very badly surprised and scared He wanted to escape from here but he could not, why did he realize that they were using it as an experiment since they had not yet finished with her one day he had heard screams and supposed that there was a demon, she finally asked to move escape from the place and The only one she saw before she could leave here was a stranger with a formal suit and red eyes who looked at her from that place, Karui, for the days she had been hungry, she walked aimlessly weakly while the people looked at her for sorrow, she was saved by Tamayo who was in those places at night.

He had healed her wounds and even injected some vaccines so that the demon cells would not have an effect on her, he had taken care of her for 5 years until she considered her as her own mother, made a hairstyle with a tape that matched her his eyes and hair that had kept him with love Karui at the age of 11 Tamayo had told him the descriptions of the demons due to his demon blood, his power, even the 12 demonic moons along with the very person responsible for the appearance of demons and the most powerful, also He said that the death of his father had not been by a simple accident but by the work of a demon who possesses a fire ability, says goodbye to him thanking him for taking care of her since he was leaving the place on his own to be a demon hunter, to find that demon responsible for the death of his family, also defeat the creator of demons called muzan kibutsuji.

☀️ EXTRA

=He is afraid of Tomioka when he gets angry at her when he is seriously hurt due to his stubbornness for his confrontations with demons, because he does not want anything bad to happen to her.

=He takes pity on the pillar of sound and the pillar of the wind as he always discusses with them even hits the blows with sanemi when his patience runs out.

=He doesn't get along with Shinobu, because Karui is annoyed that he insults giyuu that everyone hates him even the annoying he likes and is ashamed of that.

=He hates to remove the tape from his hair since it is of sentimental value.

=When he entered the group of demon hunters he fainted by using concentrated breathing.

=When he met Tanjiro and the others, Tanjiro saw him as the Frenton steel boy, Zenitsu was sad to see him cry and that he needed help from Inosuke with the wild boar mask he looked like a strange semi-human animal that speaks and is a hunter of demons but without the mask she had eyes of a girl and with a bad character, she does not care why she shows potential and motivation but when she met Nezuko she does not decide to kill her because she had a bad time in her past and she is aware own what is right and what is wrong apart that the pink-eyed demon girl gets along very well with karui.

=She rescues children who lost their families by giving home on her teacher's farm that she and her husband welcome them with pleasure treating them like their children.

=Karui is not drinking Sake because when she takes a drop she falls asleep deeply and the next day she gets up with a headache. she is ashamed or blushes when she is praised for the good things she does, such as trying to cheer up others.

=His raven is very disturbing apart from that he insults other people and also says macabre threats, there are times when Karui wonders why the hell this crow touched him.

=Karui almost always occupies a combat at hand to prevent him from breaking his sword, since she is a good example for the blacksmiths of the town.  

=The patron asks Karui to be the pillar of light, for the moment he is thinking about it.

• ~ ✧I express my emotions with the people that matter most to me, not to damn slags like you✧ ~ •

「Battle Info」

☀️SIDE

=Karui fights for his group of demon hunters, wants to defeat Muzan to find a way to return to normal

☀️RANGE

=Kinoe

☀️EQUIPMENT

=His sword is a style of a rod to which the sword handle is a bit long, but for her he can move it easily without any problem, the handle of his sword is rolled up by a black ribbon and a space has written " Sword of light "and a golden handle that is sturdy, has a white sheath.

☀️SKILLS

= At the moment it has Twelfth positions of the breath of light only that in the Twelfth it still does not manage to dominate it

-First form of light illusion: She quickly attacks her opponent with serious damage due to her breath without being able to react to such an attack.

-Second Form Side Illumination: She attacks in multiple ways confusing her opponent by pushing herself with something resistant, to finally cut the head of the demon is like a light passing through several mirrors.

-Third Backlight Form: She attacks from above where the demon is without noticing its presence

-Fourth Form Diffraction: With just one movement of his sword, the demon's head can be cut despite the long distance due to the rapidity of the attack.

- Fifth form dance of light: Through the dance a quantity of light accumulates in your sword by the movement avoiding the attacks of the demon that can be powerful that of a step followed when cutting the head instead of disintegrating in ashes disintegrates disappearing with small lights but in a very painful way for the demon that is burning while it reaches hell.

- Sixth form Dragon of light: within a battle, when making the attack his sword is formed a dragon thus attacking directly

-Seventh form Solar Eclipse: A ray of light is caused that from a distant battle a rotating attack with a glow ends the demon.

- eighth shape fire light twist: Like the seventh way but a close battle, with a surprise attack by the effect of light on the sword but unlike multiple turns before the demon will make its attack

- Ninth Form dazzling lights: She occupies that form if she is in a severe extreme squeeze during a powerful demon that she avoiding the attack by teleporting as small lights arrives on the other side of the battle closely with the enemy.

- Tenth Shape rotating lights: if the enemy attacks it from above or diagonally, avoid the attack with several lights around it that forms a turn of Fire.

- Eleventh Wings of Light Form: A simple illusion is propelled by propelling from the air to avoid a fall of several meters or in a battle.

- Twelfth Angel Guardian of Light Form: In a severely extreme situation a glow is caused in it rising from the air turning its eyes with illumination just like its sword forming the Sun Mark on its forehead, she as a ray of light destroys the demon due to a light of fire caused by the sword, only for the moment he still cannot control it.

- Karui has a good sense of sight that can see the enemy from afar or even in battle see the movements of the attack, also has a good sense of hearing, because he can hear someone approaching from afar

☀️ WEAKNESSES

=She can withstand many attacks by demons, but her weakness is the large scar on her abdomen that if she was hit hard in that place, she would be unable to move.

☀️ STATISTICS

≡ Strength: 10/10

≡ Dexterity: 10/10

≡ Agility: 10/10

≡ Luck: 7/10

≡ Charisma: 6/10

≡ Speed: 9/10

≡ Intelligence: 9/10

• ~ ✧There are certain difficult, complicated and sad moments that there is a certain time that you have to cry to avoid this discomfort✧ ~ •

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│││ . . . .

││✧ . . .

│✧ . ︿︿︿︿︿ • • .

✧

Good bye