#I could go scene by scene and even line by line at some points and pick it apart to show the significance

[asneakyfox]

if i'm reading you right, you're pointing out four reasons the scenes aren't the same:

ed doesn't choke izzy in the exact same way

the lighthouses don't look like the same lighthouse

the blocking for the two scenes is mirrored rather than identical, with ed on the left side in the izzy scene and on the right side in the scene with his dad

the lighthouse symbolizes stede, and stede isn't important to the first scene

i have to say the first three honestly strike me as entirely irrelevant. i would not generally expect tv to indicate that two scenes are similar by making them as close to literally identical as you're suggesting, although there's exceptions like a situation where it's meant as a very overt comedy beat. you could also point out other differences, like the fact that one takes place on a sunny day and the other on a rainy night, or that one is set in a cabin on a ship and the other outdoors on land, or that if you look closely con o'neill and damien gerard are technically two different guys. if the show could only indicate parallels between two scenes by making the second scene an exact beat-for-beat shot-for-shot recreation of the first it would rapidly become extremely boring. you could just as well argue that if the 2x05 moonlight scene had been intended as a parallel to the one from 1x05 they would have made the moon full instead of gibbous, and since they didn't do that it must mean all the similarities that are present are just coincidence. (that's a scene that is making its parallels unusually on-the-nose for cutsey romcom reasons and there's still major differences!)

#4 is puzzling to me because you've answered it yourself - the show has never treated lighthouses as a symbol of just one thing, we are told explicitly that it means multiple things, both a guide and a warning. and if a warning is what it means in the patricide scene then very obviously that's at least part of what it means in the izzy scene! that scene is very overtly the start of ed going down a path we don't want him to take, he's about to crack up on the rocks!

in fact he's about to crack up on the same rocks, which is kind of the whole point of this. like the real meat of the parallel here would be there even without any visual reinforcement - the only reason we're talking about the visuals is that they're what make it clear the creators were conscious of the parallel and considered it an important thing to reinforce. the heart of it is in both scenes:

ed is dealing with an angry older white man who is a significant part of his life, who has been threatening to both ed himself and other people ed loves (and, if you include the cut lines from his dad, both men have been trying to pressure ed himself to perform masculinity in specific ways). after putting up with it for a long time, ed is pushed too far and reacts with defensive physical violence. although he succeeds in the immediate act of self-defense, the scene leaves ed traumatized, believing that his own act of violence proves he is an unlovable monster.

there are also some significant differences between the two scenarios, like the fact that izzy is doing all this on purpose, while there's no suggestion that ed's dad intended to provoke his son to violence. the presence of those differences don't change the core parallel though. the scenes are variations on the same theme, and the variation does matter, but the theme is consistent.

this is central to ed's character arc. it's the center of ed's character arc in season 1, the thing it pivots on. the reason ed becomes the kraken is because the scene with izzy triggered the exact same trauma he's carried from the act that defined his childhood, that's the throughline. if the two scenes weren't striking the same trauma then ed wouldn't react the way he does to the second one.

(that didn't have to mean q.e.d. izzy is ed's father figure for all time and that had to be the main theme of their relationship. it just means there's one scene in which izzy played a role that paralleled ed's dad - but it's a pretty important scene. the show could have played that as a thing that happened only once. but it still would have happened, it would have been something that was there at least in one pivotal scene whether or not they chose to expand on the theme in s2.)

anyway back to what lighthouses symbolize. i would suggest that while the lighthouse definitely signifies a warning signal in both scenes, it's an entirely plausible read that it symbolizes stede in both scenes in addition to that. this show is a romance, and it's the kind of romance where people turn into hallucinatory mermaids and call their lovers back from the land of the dead. it is not at all surprising to me that in a scene set long before ed and stede meet, there would be a symbolic reminder that even in this darkest moment of ed's life the love of his life was already out there waiting for him, warning him away from the path he was on, calling him back to land. that kind of soulmate stuff, portraying the two lovers' stories as having been intertwined before they ever met, that's totally in-genre here.

finally i did say i thought points 1-3 were irrelevant, so i don't think this matters, but i want to point out that #3 is also not quite right; you've got the wrong flashback there. as you noted earlier, we see two versions of ed's father's death, and no lighthouse is visible in the "real" one, because the camera is always facing either inland or down. (the fact that the lighthouse is only clearly even there in ed's imagination probably says something interesting about the symbolism - there might not be a lighthouse at all in the real scene, it's unclear in that version if the flashing could be just lightning - but that's kind of outside the scope of this.) if you positioned the camera behind them facing the sea, so that the lighthouse (if it exists) were in frame like it is in the other scene, the way they're positioned would of course put ed on the left.

but the version of the scene where you do see the lighthouse is the one where ed is supposedly only present as a watcher; ed's actions in this scene are displaced onto the literal kraken, the kraken is symbolically replacing ed himself. you'll never guess which side of the screen the kraken is on.

ed's dad is even positioned here directly in front of the lighthouse, blocking our (and young ed's) view of it, like you pointed out that izzy walks forward into the center of the frame to block our view of the painting, while ed is still positioned on the left.

like i said i don't think the blocking is an element that needs to be exactly the same for the scenes to work as parallels, so personally i wouldn't count this as a particularly important part of the whole visual parallel situation. but if you're concerned about it, that's something there.

So I’m up to episode 10 of my most recent rewatch and I noticed something interesting in the scene where Izzy confronts Ed. At the beginning of the conversation the camera tends to stay with Ed in the left side of the frame and Izzy on the right, with the space between them in center. We do get some shots of just Ed where he’s in center (not included) but any shots that focus on Izzy still keep Ed in the frame with Izzy staying right of center.

So I am not a cinematographer by any stretch, but this seems all pretty straight forward to me? Like, we’ve got these two people having an argument so we’re showing them on literal opposite sides, and our shots are biasing toward whoever is speaking at the moment, but with an overall bias toward Ed, who we’re supposed to sympathize with.

But where it gets interesting is when Izzy makes his namby-pamby comment, and Ed pushes Izzy up against the wall. Izzy is still right of center, but take a closer look at what is now in the center of the frame.

The lighthouse painting. The lighthouse which represents both Stede and Stede & Ed together. In this moment while Ed briefly appears to have control of the conversation, this painting representing many of the things Ed wants and wants to be is prominently in the shot even while we’re supposed to be focused on Izzy. And as an added bonus just as Ed is consistently on the left side of the frame in this argument, the lighthouse is on the left side of the painting.

But then Izzy takes back control over the conversation. He reaches out and strokes Ed’s face, causing Ed to jerk back and let go of Izzy.

Izzy takes advantage of this to step closer to Ed, bringing him to center frame.

And even then he continues to get closer and closer.

And as Izzy whispers his threat to Ed we’re left with this: Izzy filling the center of the frame, with Ed only barely visible at the very edge, and the lighthouse missing from the painting, completely blocked out by Izzy.

[orionhelluvaranting]

Debunking the Myth about Stolass' Lack of Awareness

Justifying Stolass' harassment by his ✨unawareness✨ is such a popular tactic of the stans. "He didn't know his behavior makes Blitzø uncomfortable!" they say. "He was sheltered all of his life!" they say. Some of them are bold enough to headcanon Stolass as autistic even.

However, what if I say there's the scene - the one single scene - that wrecks all those statements about Stolass' unawareness? And just the one shot expresses the whole essence of my point. Do you want to see it? Okay, here it is:

If you didn't comprehend it (maybe you forgot this moment from the series) that's fine. I was going to analyse this anyway 🔎

Here's the context: S2E4, "Western Energy". Stolass, Stella and Andre-blah-blah are sitting at the cafe for privileged jerks and discussing S&S' divorce. Then Striker breaks into the building and fires a series of shots at the prince (all missed the target). Right in the middle of the shooting Stolass turns to Stella, looks at her evil smirk... and he gets it all! Immediately! This is literally what's happening. Stolass understood that his wife has put a hit on him. And how did he come up with that conclusion?

He! Just! Read! Facial! Expression!

The line that's addressed from Stolass to Striker confirms this unambiguously:

So what is the unawereness we could talk about after all this? No, really! Stolass not only identified Stella's emotion (schadenfreude) correctly but also connected it to the current situation and his wife's general attitude towards him from which he deduced the reason for Stella's emotion (she craves his death, therefore she's the one who put a hit on him). And all this in a matter of seconds. To the whistle of angelic bullets!!! Like usually people become less analytical in moments of danger. But here's Stolass suddenly showing us miracles of emotional intelligence! Bravo!

So why can't he apply the same tactic to Blitzø or Octavia? Why is he able to grasp emotions of his abuser - who he hates and despises - very easily; but he stays unaware for so long when it comes to his loved ones? Why it took him almost a whole day to see that Via doesn't enjoy being in Loo Loo Land (although she openly said this from the very beginning)? Why it took him nearly a year (!!!) to see that Blitzø doesn't enjoy being his "impish plaything" (although he made it clear constantly)?

Isn't he able to understand them? Or maybe just doesn't want to?

Draw conclusions by yourself. And those of you who wants a few more thoughts of mine - I'm gladly inviting you under the cut!

You know what's the funniest part? This little detail doesn't have any impact on the story! At all!!! You literally could cut it off, change the dialog between Stolass and Striker a bit and TA-DA! Nothing would've changed. Because Stolass doesn't remember that his wife tried to kill him. He doesn't take any precautions even! Like, apparently, Via spends almost the entire second season with her mother.... and Stolass' totally OKAY with this?! Huh?!?

Why was that moment pushed into the series regardless? Well, I think Viv just wanted to praise her babyboy.* Like, "Oh, look how smart and cool he is, not like that stupid cow, Stella!" But ironically this decision has exactly the opposite effect.

I mean, it's a normal thing not being able to understand something in a few seconds in an emergency. Just a normal thing. Honestly, see no reason for judging. But if you, Stolass, have actually realised your abusive wife's desire for unaliving you and then you don't do shit preferring to chase your butty call while your precious daughter lives with that abusive wife of yours... Then I have a question:

Besides, as I just said, this all levels the whole "Stolass' unawareness" excuse to the ground. And you can't fix this by making excuses below your own video, Vivienne 🙄

If you want your audience to grasp something, then you should follow the "Show, Don't Tell" rule. Also it wouldn't hurt you to try and not contradict yourself. This time you had every chance to do so but you've just missed it... Congrats?

So what was the point?!

*By the way something similar was showed at "Oops" when Stolass stayed with Ozz (for some unclear reason) and explained to him - the Deadly Sin - how deals with the Deadly Sins are working! Yeah, what a nice fellow Stolass is, saved helpless dumb Ozzie from losing everything! Isn't that adorable everytime Stolass needs to look smart somebody must lose all of their braincells? Looks like somebody doesn't beat the Gary Stu allegations, huh?

[amemoryofwot]

In regards to WoT show Liandrin I think there's a certain point where a character in a show needs to portray concepts that are otherwise lore or exposition. Like, the writers didn't do so much with her because they think she's Super Neat in the books or something, but because as a relatively one noted early intro character she's in a convenient place to tackle some Stuff onto. Some examples I can think of are:

The Vileness - as this is like one of my personal fave WoT topics I YELLED at her intro in the very first episode. It's the Vileness!!! She's hunting down and Gentling men unsanctioned without a trial! She only has Reds with her there, and it's so completely different to the procedure for Logain where she has the Greens. She even put them into a position where they felt they had to Gentle Logain early, I maintain that she slipped that shield for a fraction of a second.

The ability of the Black Ajah to lie - The rewatchability of the show remains peak, it's super fun to see all the places she's definitely lying, bringing into play that hidden Black Ajah wild card of Being Able to Say Anything. Again, the first intro scene, where the critics were so pressed she misrepresented the taint. Ah yes, famously man hating Black Ajah Liandrin just might have something to say about that, yeah.

The unnaturally long lifespan of a channeler in relation to others - Watching your child age and die is a pretty horrific consequence of this, and one example is enough to explain why none of the other women have children either. This does get verbalized in the books but again showing examples is going to be more impactful in a visual medium than someone saying it out loud.

Black Ajah recruitment - I don't know whether she truly thought she would get Nynaeve as a Black, certainly at least she thought she could argue her into the Red (why Heal the aftereffects when you can go after the cause?) but it does show there is a recruitment process involved. Albeit in the books it seems to be limited to capturing a person and demanding they swear to the Dark or they will be killed, the show has at least tried to provide some hot nuance with Liandrin, Min, Dana, etc. You can argue RJ had some clear cut ideas of what made a Darkfriend (petty, selfish, etc) but these are human emotions in general, the world for the most part isn't divided into a subsection of Bad People that only have these emotions. Plus some of RJ's ideas of what a Good Person is (namely, self-sacrificing) isn't always, uh, good.

The general idea that Darkfriends may appear helpful or good, but have a secret agenda - when the eps first came out there was a lot of pushback that Liandrin got some of Siuan's scenes. I think this was all to entirely sell us on Liandrin is On Our Side Actually, because in the book it is actually hilarious how Min's like "hey gang I have a bad feeling" and then Liandrin shows up out of nowhere to whisk them away. Plus the scene with the sword and wrapping them up in Air and stuff is not really a great look. It was enough to seem like she's trying to help, but coming across in a really traumatic way that on hindsight of the betrayal makes it even more abusive. Now, we are constantly suspicious that other Aes Sedai may end up being secret Blacks

That the Forsaken have different agendas, and use Darkfriends to implement them - using one single character like Liandrin and shunting her from Ishamael to Lanfear (and ultimately to Moghedien) helps illustrate how the Forsaken work without giving away too many secret identities.

Anyways that's the one's I can think of now. Again truly the show is so efficient with its writing, practically every line has some lore or foreshadowing or twist to it, and expanding on these honestly somewhat flat characters is a really effective way to illustrate these concepts.

[lesbianalanwake]

Severance S2E5:

in the behind the scenes clip Dan Erickson said “when I saw the watermelon Irving head I knew this season was going to work” he’s JUST like me fr.

and again: Kier Eagan's frozen fucking Disney head. (Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald…)

Milchick and Helena being mirrored: alone on one side of the table with Natalie and Drummond on the other. toeing the company line and yet seething. the cracks in their performances are really starting to show now, and all that remains is reaching the point of what is going to make them snap.

it is so interesting that this season is so much about the non-severed workers (or halves), the managers sitting above the severed workers, the “faces” of Lumon, Milchick and Helena and Cobel, and the way that they, too, are trapped within or beholden to Lumon in different ways, the way that Lumon sees them as tools as well. I said it before but I really wonder if that is going to be Lumon’s undoing, and if it started with Reghabi and whatever her experiences at the company were. (could be what "Trojan Horse" is really referring to... the Trojan War was about Helen(a) after all.)

speaking of that: where is my awful wife Harmony…… I miss her.

Mark’s automatic reaction to grief is to throw himself into work (not just with Irving and Gemma but Petey too). just like me fr!!!

Helly…… the way she is so much more emotive and physical than Helena, but there’s still this subdued manner to her in this episode. she says she’s not Helena, and that is true to a degree, but I think being Helena is something she fears. the reprise of “forgive me for the harm I have caused this world” in the finale of S1 is just that….. she is Helena, and she knows it, and Mark and Dylan’s reactions to her are confirming that fear even as she tries to maintain her identity as Helly. but innie/outie is like alternate timeline versions of the self in the same body without any timeline shenanigans… Helly is Helena without the repressive cult conditioning; she’s the inner child that has been crushed. those experiences live in her body (the angry defiance, the suicidal ideation) but not in her memory, and so she IS Helena but it's what Helena could be. speaking out at the gala was so, so brave, and Helena has yet to reach that level of courage. but maybe she will…. she’s getting angrier and more vocal about the way Lumon treats her, and I don’t think any of the innies can truly reconcile who they are without making peace with who they’ve been.

and speaking of inner child…. for some reason this episode really made me think about it in earnest. it might be one of the best lenses through which to view the innies, and I think Helly and Mark S and Dylan G are all fairly obvious as to how that comes through, but it makes me wonder about Irving. we know he was a military brat; I wonder if he was religious too, or if Irving B’s religious fervor for Lumon is only a reflection of a strict military upbringing (rules and rituals). and maybe that same struggle with his sexuality played out in his youth, and was part of the reason why he ended up alone in his old age. or did he lose someone? Irving Bailiff who ARE you?

the way Reghabi is like “we need to take it slow” and Mark is like “um more brain surgery now please”.... dude she is trying not to get you killed fhgkshg. obsessed with their weird dynamic. NEED to know more about Reghabi. and thinking about Mark’s ominous coughing, and the flash to Gemma (Orpheus looking back)….. this show makes me want to throw up.

[dazaih]

wingman - luke skywalker x reader

chapter one, chapter two, chapter three

chapter four -> cloud city ii

your university roommate han solo finds a rival (and love interest) in student council president leia skywalker, but both of them are too stubborn to admit that they have feelings for each other. luckily, you and her twin brother, luke, devise a plan to get the two of them to spend more time together. challenges arise, however, when you start to develop a crush on him.

chapter warnings: drug and alcohol usage, violence, blood, injuries. if you wish to skip the fight scene, scroll down to the text divider and begin with the line “You were going to be fine.” i personally don’t think there’s anything incredibly graphic (especially considering the nature of star wars lol) but i never want my stories to cause stress or discomfort for anyone. please take care of yourself!

a/n: incorporating a lil bit of canon content into this au and introducing some plot! i’ve been really nervous to post this chapter because of the slight tonal shift but hopefully you don’t hate it lol <3

By the time the band ended their set, you were sweating, feeling parched and slightly sore with a small headache from enthusiastically moving your body to the songs. Han must have felt similarly, because he pointed to his breast pocket and flashed you a grin.

“Cigarette?” he asked, gesturing to the door.

“I’ll go with you since you’re so drunk,” you slurred, only slightly better off.

“Chewie?”

Chewie shook his head, pointing to the bar. He wanted another drink, probably so he could match the level you and Han were at. With that, the two of you made your way outside, Lando eyeing you as you left. Something about the look he gave you made you feel a little on edge, but you chalked it up to the tensions you’d experienced earlier in the night. Han led you to the alley on the side of the building, lighting his cigarette and exhaling the smoke with a sigh of relief.

“Lando pours ‘em strong,” he remarked, closing his eyes, “Always has, but man. I’m a little fucked up.”

“Well, that’s what we came here for,” you said, sitting down on the sidewalk next to where he was standing.

The two of you stayed there for a bit, a comfortable silence playing out as Han smoked. All things considered, you’d had a good time so far. It had been a while since you’d gone to a nice venue like this. You leaned your head against his leg, closing your eyes and sighing as you soaked in the city’s soundscape. Being here still felt surreal sometimes, but you were thankful to have friends who made you feel so grounded.

“Han Solo,” a voice rang out, piercing the tranquility the two of you had created out in the alleyway.

You didn’t know who the voice belonged to, but Han sure did. He immediately tensed, but didn’t put his cigarette out.

“What a surprise,” your roommate replied, though you caught an ounce of distress in his drunken words, “Good to see you, Fett.”

“Wish I could say the same,” the man said, finally close enough to see. The streetlight illuminated his features only slightly, but he was strong, with a stern expression that made you feel uneasy.

“Can we help you?” you asked, standing up from your spot on the sidewalk. When Han gently nudged your hand, however, you shrank back against the wall slightly.

“You probably can’t,” the man—Fett, Han had called him—replied coldly, meeting your eyes. This guy had to be at least thirty, and you tried to sort through your scrambled thoughts to figure out what he could want with Han.

“He’s right,” Han agreed, surprising you, “You should go inside. Find Chewie.”

“No,” Fett said sternly, grabbing your wrist as you turned to leave, “I won’t hurt you, but I can’t let you do that. You just stand there and watch.”

“Watch what?” you asked, stomach starting to churn. You didn’t like this.

“That all depends on him.”

“Listen, Boba. I told the Hutts that I’d pay them back once I graduated. I’ll pay them double, even. I just have to take another semester.”

“Jabba doesn’t think you’ll graduate at all,” the man replied, inching closer to Han, “And he doesn’t give a shit about your education, anyway. He’s been generous enough to offer you your old job back, though. He’d take the money you owe him out of your paycheck, and you’d have to work for him until it was all paid off.”

“We’ve been through this before,” Han said, taking another drag of his cigarette and blowing it in Fett’s face, “I don’t deal anymore, and he knows that. You know that.”

“I’m here to give you another chance to make the reasonable choice,” he warned, his fierce tone contradicting his words. This was a threat, you realized.

“No,” he said, putting his cigarette out against the wall and letting it drop to the ground, “I can’t. They’ll kick me out of here if I get caught smuggling drugs, Boba. Just tell him that I’m graduating soon, and I’ll be able to land a pretty nice job with an engineering degree, so he doesn’t need to—“

Boba didn’t let him finish before he punched him square in the jaw, Han falling back against the wall from the force of it. Immediately, you turned to run inside, but you were quickly grabbed and restrained by another man. You watched in horror as a few more people emerged from the other side of the alleyway, walking towards your group. Reinforcements, you supposed. If you weren’t so frightened, you’d find humor in the fact that Han was apparently enough trouble to warrant such a sizable crowd.

Han braced himself against the cool brick, managing to muster enough energy and coordination in his drunken state to land a hit on his opponent. Boba faltered slightly, but the attack only served to piss him off even more.

“Hold him still,” he ordered, and two of the men he was with each grabbed one of Han’s arms, forcing him to stand upright. Your stomach sank when Boba pulled out something shiny from his pocket, and when he fitted the metal onto his hand, you lurched forward, trying to come to your friend’s rescue. When the men pulled you back, you continued to struggle, resulting in a harsh blow being delivered to your ribs.

“Kid, ‘s alright. Don’t get yourself into any trouble,” Han mumbled, his speech slightly obscured by the blood pouring from his upper lip.

“You’re gonna kill him,” you cried as Boba admired the brass knuckles on his hand.

“Last chance, Solo,” he said, ignoring you, “You can either repay your debt by coming back to work for Jabba, or you can repay it with your life right now.”

“You don’t understand,” Han hissed, almost collapsing but being jerked back upwards by the men restraining him, “I can’t transport that shit anymore. I’ve worked too hard to get here. But I can still pay him. Hell, I’ll even do triple. Don’t be a fool—“

That was the wrong answer, it seemed. You screamed as Boba delivered the first punch with the brass knuckles to Han’s ribs, helplessly thrashing against your captors.

“Lando will come looking for us,” you yelled, still trying to fight back against the men holding you, “He saw us walk out here.”

“I paid Lando a hundred bucks to stay inside and mind his business,” Boba replied coolly, hitting Han again, “Don’t you worry about a thing.”

Realizing the direness of your situation, you shoved your heel as hard as you could into the foot of the man to your right, his grip loosening on you just enough to allow you to break free for a moment. Without thinking twice, you pushed your finger into the eye of the man on your left, causing him to reel back in pain.

You ran as far as you could to the end of the alleyway, trying to at least make sure your cry for help was heard before your captors inevitably caught up to you. You almost made it, and when your escape attempt was thwarted by one of the men pulling you backwards, you screamed as loudly as you could. The consequence of this was that a piece of cloth was shoved into your mouth, effectively gagging you. Tears streamed down your face as you struggled again, trying to resist being dragged back to the scene of your closest friend being beaten within an inch of his life. The man whose eye you’d injured welcomed you back into the group by throwing you onto the concrete harshly, and you let out a deep wheeze of pain.

“Not worth it, kid,” Han pleaded, his voice strained, “It’ll be okay. ‘S okay—“

He was cut off by Boba gripping his hair harshly and delivering a knee to his stomach, causing him to gasp and cough up a small amount of blood.

“What a fitting end for you, Han Solo. Getting the shit beat out of you in the back of an alley while those rich brats you’ve tried so hard to fit in with don’t even care enough to come see what all the commotion is about. You were better off as one of us.”

Han said nothing—he couldn’t speak anymore, you realized. Between the copious amounts of alcohol he’d consumed and the violence he’d endured, it was a miracle that he was even still conscious. You watched helplessly as Boba continued to hit him, only using the brass knuckles on occasion, making you realize that he was intentionally dragging it out. It was audacious to believe that no one would catch him, but Boba had convinced even you that no one was coming to your rescue at this point. The weight of the realization was suffocating, and you weren’t sure if the gag choking you or the deep despair you felt was what caused more tears to escape you.

You couldn’t watch any longer. You looked off into the distance, trying to focus on something else as you were forced to listen to Han’s pained grunts and gasps. Your vision was slightly blurred from crying, but when a familiar silhouette appeared at the end of the alleyway, you felt relief wash over you. It was Chewie. He’d come to look for you.

You briefly fretted over him meeting a fate similar to your own, but you realized quickly that he wasn’t alone. None other than Luke Skywalker was in tow, his teammates still following him.

“Hey!” he shouted, racing towards you all. You tried to warn him about the ferocity of your opponents, tried to tell him that this was no normal bar squabble—but it was too late. As soon as he had breached the group, Boba turned sharply, punching him in the face with his bare hand. Luke hissed in pain, but to your surprise, swung back with enough force to make Boba stumble. The other man grunted and raised his other fist—the one with the brass knuckles—and you tried to scream out a warning, your cries muffled by the rag in your mouth. Surprising you further, however, Luke dodged his attack, throwing him off balance enough to shove him to the side harshly and rush towards you. In his tracks, his teammates picked up his slack, and there, in the alley of Cloud City, a true fight broke out. The men who had been keeping watch over you ran to defend their leader, and Luke made his way to you.

“Call the police!” Luke shouted, kneeling down in front of you. Blood was pouring from his nose and his lip, but he didn’t seem to mind as he pulled the rag from your mouth. You coughed, choking slightly at the sudden change in pressure. His hand cupped your cheek immediately, thumb gently wiping away stray tears from your face. You weren’t sure if it was the adrenaline getting to your head, but in that moment, you felt incredibly cared about in a way that was all too genuine for the type of relationship you and Luke had.

“It’s okay,” he told you, seemingly much more sober than he’d been inside, “I’m gonna take care of everything. Gonna get help.”

You looked past him to see Chewie and his teammates fighting off Fett’s group, Han having collapsed onto the ground without the support of his captors holding him up.

“Tell Lando to get out here now!” Luke yelled again, and one of his teammates raced towards the bar.

“They paid Lando a hundred bucks to stay inside,” you recited, your head pounding.

“Okay? I’ll pay him two hundred to get outside,” Luke scoffed, trying to help you sit up.

“Police are on their way!” you heard someone yell. You looked down the alley to see Lando himself, two bouncers standing next to him. You could have hit him at the moment, but because of your current injuries, you stayed put.

You watched as Boba delivered a few more heavy blows to Luke’s teammates, only two of his own men still standing, stumbling to catch up with him.

“You’re gonna regret this, Calrissian. You should’ve kept your ass inside like I told you to,” Fett shouted, backing up to exit the other end of the alley.

“I didn’t realize you were trying to kill Han outside of my bar,” Lando retaliated, watching Boba carefully as he walked backwards to his escape route.

“It didn’t concern you.”

When he stumbled in your direction, he couldn’t resist the urge to pull Luke up by his hair, the other man surprised by the sudden attack.

“And you,” Fett hissed, Lando and Luke’s remaining teammates now sprinting towards you, “I’ll teach you to interrupt a man’s business.”

“Do your worst. We’ll see where it gets you,” Luke replied, voice strained by the tugging on his hair. You watched as Luke took the opportunity to carefully study Boba’s face rather than fight back, and you were once again seized by an emotion that you couldn’t quite place.

Fett glared at him, pulling him higher up and then throwing him to the ground as hard as he could, the sound of Luke’s body smacking against the concrete making you wince. He groaned beside of you, and you weren’t sure if the blood pouring from his face was new or from the first altercation he’d had with him. With that, Fett escaped the alleyway, Lando and his men chasing after him.

“Luke!” Biggs shouted, running to where you all were.

“Leia,” Luke choked out, gasping for air as most of it had been knocked out of him, “Call Leia.”

Biggs nodded, and you heard sirens wailing in the distance, the red flashing lights of what you assumed was an ambulance illuminating the surrounding buildings. One of Luke’s other teammates stumbled over to check on him, and you knew instantly that he’d never seen such violence firsthand. It was Elias.

“Elevate his head,” you told him, struggling to pull yourself to your feet, “Find out where he’s bleeding.”

Elias nodded, shaky hands lifting Luke’s head and placing his coat underneath it. You stumbled towards Han, mustering all of your strength. Chewie was already at his side, having leaned him up against the wall so he was sitting upright.

“Han,” you gasped, falling to your knees next to him, “Can you hear me?”

When he didn’t say anything, you began to panic slightly, lifting his head to try to make him meet your eyes.

“Han,” you said again, and his eyes opened slightly as he tried to take in your appearance.

“Bleeding,” he managed to sputter out, “You’re bleeding. Your face.”

“You’re a whole lot worse, man,” you tried to joke, but you couldn’t stop your eyes from watering.

“I need a cigarette,” he slurred, and you leaned his head to the side slightly.

“Spit,” you told him, and when he did, you couldn’t even see any saliva—only blood. His eyes fluttered closed again, and you brushed his hair from his forehead gently.

“You have to stay awake, Han,” you told him sternly, keeping his head upright. Chewie gave you a concerned look. This was bad.

Luckily, the ambulance arrived then, parking at the end of the alley. A few paramedics rushed out and immediately identified Han as being in the most critical condition, lifting him onto a stretcher and taking him to the ambulance. Two more arrived soon after, and a few police cars were there as well. You watched as Lando reappeared, explaining the situation to the cops.

“You should go with Han,” you told Chewie. He frowned, looking you over and shaking his head.

“They probably won’t let me do it because they need to check me out first, but you’re fine. You should go. I’ll be okay.”

Reluctantly, Chewie nodded, pulling you into a gentle embrace before departing, running towards the ambulance Han was in. You let out a sigh of relief, feeling better knowing that your roommates would be there for each other. You saw Elias, Biggs, and some more paramedics help Luke into the back of an ambulance, and when he murmured something you couldn’t quite make out from this distance, Biggs came over to where you were standing, some paramedics behind him.

“They wanna look you over,” he explained, offering you his arm. You nodded, allowing yourself to be escorted away from the blood stained alleyway.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You were going to be fine. You had broken your wrist from how you’d landed when you were thrown, and you had some serious bruising on your ribs, but overall, you were going to be fine. When you were cleared, you exited the back of the ambulance, only to find Luke sitting on a bench across from you.

“Shouldn’t you be in one of those ambulances?” you asked, taking in his appearance.

He had a black eye and a busted lip that had been stitched up, but he smiled at you regardless.

“Already got cleared. Got a concussion, a black eye, stitches, and my ribs are all bruised up, but nothing that requires going to the emergency room. How about you?”

You sat down next to him, sighing from the ache in your body, “My ribs are bruised too. And I broke my wrist. Wanna sign my cast later?”

“Of course,” he said happily, leaning back and looking at you, “But really, are you okay?”

“No,” you whispered, frowning as you stared at the sidewalk, “I thought I was about to watch him die.”

Luke sat up, taking your good hand into his own.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t get out here sooner. Chewie came to see if you were with me, and then we went outside to look for you. Then we heard you scream. I had no idea. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you assured him, squeezing his hand, “Glad I didn’t mess my throat up for no reason, I guess.”

He didn’t laugh, and instead he pulled you into a hug, his hand resting securely on the back of your neck. The safety of his embrace made your eyes water, and you melted into his touch.

“I was scared,” you whispered into his shoulder, allowing a man you hardly knew to hold you on a park bench in the middle of the city.

“Me too,” he told you, gently carding his fingers through your hair, “But it’s over, and we’ll have more answers tomorrow.“

You nodded, the words causing your mind to drift to Han. You pulled back and checked your phone.

4 new notifications

Chewie: he’s stable. in and out of consciousness, but he’ll be okay. doing x-rays soon.

Chewie: r u ok?? did u get ur injuries checked out?

Chewie: ok he has some broken ribs and a broken nose. pretty bad concussion too. they want to keep him overnight at least.

Chewie: i’m gonna stay tn. you should go home and get some sleep. you’ve been thru a lot. pls txt when u can to lmk ur ok

Texting a quick message back, you sighed, relieved that Han was going to be okay but still nervous about his injuries. The stress must have shown on your face, because Luke placed an arm around you, letting you lean your head on his shoulder.

“How is he?” he asked, rubbing your arm.

“At the hospital. Broken bones, but he’ll be okay, according to Chewie,” you said, allowing him to console you, “Thank you, by the way. I owe you one.”

“Don’t thank me,” he told you, “Setting my sister up with Han doesn’t really work if he gets killed in the back of an alleyway.”

You chuckled a little at that, glad for Luke’s ability to lighten the mood.

“But really,” he said seriously, “You don’t owe me anything. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Just then, a sleek, black car pulled into the parking lot, and none other than Leia crawled out of the passenger seat. Of course they had a personal driver.

“What the fuck,” she muttered, taking in the crime scene tape and Luke’s battered appearance before rushing over to you, “What happened?”

“Some guys tried to kill Han during his cigarette break,” you explained simply, the weight of your exhaustion setting in, making it impossible for you to offer more context.

“Han?” she asked, concern written all over her features, “Where is he?”

“Hospital. They’re keeping him overnight.”

“Shit,” she huffed, taking Luke’s face into her hands and evaluating the damage, “How did you get involved?”

“He and Chewie and his friends stepped in,” you told her, watching as she eyed the stitches on his lip, “Probably would’ve died if he didn’t.”

She sighed, stepping back and putting her hands on her hips, seemingly unsure of what to do. She stared at you for a second, and then back at Luke, clearly distressed by his injuries. Her concern for him was sweet.

“Local news headlines are gonna pick this up,” she said, frowning, “I think Lando’s gonna talk to the press to make it clear that it was an attack and you came to the rescue, but I don’t know.”

“I don’t care,” Luke told her, waving his hand dismissively, “I don’t wanna worry about stuff like that right now.”

“I know,” she replied, sighing again, “Mom and Dad are gonna lose their shit—“

“I don’t care.”

“You should call them,” she urged, looking at his injuries again, “Someone else probably has by now. Have you checked your phone?”

“No,” he said, looking annoyed, “Have you?”

“No. I’ve been afraid of what they’ll say.”

“Will they be angry with you?” you asked, not sure what kind of reaction you should be anticipating from the Skywalker family.

“Probably with me for not filling them in,” Leia admitted, her voice weary.

“Probably with me for getting hurt,” Luke added.

“I bet they’ll want us to come home for the rest of the weekend.”

“Absolutely not,” Luke grimaced, rubbing his temple with his free hand.

“Or they’ll send someone to check on you.”

“That’s such a waste of time,” he scoffed.

“Dad’s press tour is soon. The last thing you need while you’re recovering is for a bunch of delusional kids online to speculate about how you got hurt. They’ll probably find a way to romanticize it. You know how they are.”

“Leia,” Luke said sternly, though his tone was still gentle, “You know I don’t care about that stuff. They’ve been writing weird shit about me since I was sixteen. And if they publish something about me getting in a fight, that’s okay. It’s for me to worry about.”

“You’re right. Sorry,” she replied, sighing, “I don’t know where my head is at right now. I was so worried about you.”

Luke sighed too, standing from the bench to hug his sister.

“I’m fine, Leia,” he told her, and seeing how soft he was with her made your heart beat a little faster. He was a good brother.

“You should stay at our place,” Luke offered suddenly, meeting your eyes, “Since Han and Chewie won’t be home. I don’t want you to be there by yourself after tonight.”

You almost protested, feeling awkward invading their space like that, but then Leia spoke too.

“I think that’s a good idea. Especially with those men still on the loose,” she added.

“I don’t wanna intrude—“

“You won’t be. Please,” Luke interjected, looking at you with wide, hopeful eyes.

“Only if you’re sure it’s okay,” you reluctantly agreed.

“Of course,” he insisted, helping you stand, “It’s just me and Leia, so there’s nothing to stress about.”

You guys are basically aristocrats. How is that not stressful? you wanted to say, but you held your tongue, following them to the car where their driver was holding the door for you. The high quality leather seats felt alien to you when you sat down in the back with Luke. He must have noticed your discomfort, because he reached for your hand soon after. With little hesitation, you accepted, and he immediately tangled your fingers together, giving you one of his signature soft smiles. Even in the mostly dark vehicle, his eyes still shone brightly, and something about that fact made your cheeks flush.

You briefly wondered if you were getting too personally involved with the Skywalkers, but with Leia in the front seat telling the driver to take you all home and Luke in the back with his hand in yours, you knew that there was little you could do about it now.

[perplexingly]

heyyy i kind of caught a lot of your job search related malaise through the past weeks and as someone very much in the same boat i just wanted to say hang in there… it fucking sucks. but uh it's more likely that there's work for you than not. and you'll find it. it might take a while but please don't give up. i refuse to believe that someone with your curiosity and talent isn't needed somewhere. i hope you don't mind me dropping this here but some things i keep reminding myself of to stay sane:

some dude bringing 1 out of 5 things asked for is applying to that job you're talking yourself out of. don't preselect for them and apply

there are so many smaller and medium sized businesses drowning in work who do not have their shit together enough to actively look for someone

hiring people is incredibly important and costly for a business so there are all of these intricate structures in place that feel impossible to navigate but it all comes down to people needing people

you only need it to work once. for now.

ask your friends for help

hr people are in fact human. even if they like to pretend otherwise. also i feel like you need some hyping up so here i go: i've been following you for so long and you just keep getting better and better. i am not in most of the fandoms you draw for (is it even accurate to call arthurania a fandom??) but like i love your drawings and i wouldn't miss them for anything. your fluid lines have captivated me, the intimacy you create in your scenes i could probably live off for a while and i love the sensuality that is so inherently part of what you draw. i am reeeeally jealous of the way you stylize things i think i'm channeling you more than i realized when i try to do the same. i also deeply admire the way you get so into things, i can FEEL the love through my SCREEN!!!

hope this message isn't too much and sending you a lot of good wishes :)

Thank you, I really appreciate it and I appreciate the time you spent typing this, but at this point I really need something more concrete than advice, since that's all I've been getting, and tried to follow, for months now;;

Thank you very much for the words of encouragement though! 🙇‍♀️

[applecidershauna]

Inaccuracy in Yellowjackets – Lazy Writing or Intentional?

Lately, I’ve seen so many posts complaining about inaccuracies in Yellowjackets—more than ever. Why do they keep adding characters? How did they build their little village after losing everything in the cabin fire? What were the lanterns even made of?

Personally, I can live with minor mistakes or unexplained things if they move the plot forward or add something cool, but I’ve seen people justify them with another theory: that the teen timeline is unreliable because the characters have repressed or forgotten details about their time in the wilderness. This usually comes up when people talk about background girls suddenly appearing or getting bigger roles.

And while I get why that’s an interesting theory… I don’t buy it. Let’s talk!

Season 3: The Village and the Outfits

One big issue people seem to have this season is the matching outfits and hoods the girls are wearing. But honestly? I don’t think that’s unrealistic at all. You’re telling me none of them knew how to sew? Please. We already know they have assigned roles—some cook, some hunt, so why wouldn’t someone be in charge of making clothes? They clearly share skills and teach each other, too.

As for the materials, I’ve seen theories that the hoods are made from plane seats, and yeah, I totally see it! Super smart catch. Also, people forget how much time these girls have. Like, they are out there bored. Making clothes is probably something they enjoy or at least a way to stay busy.

The village itself? Honestly looks pretty realistic to me. Those stick-and-grass shelters make sense, and building shelter is literally a basic human survival instinct. Considering Tai was mentioned as being involved, it makes even more sense.

The lanterns from the solstice scene? If you look closely, you can see writing on them. So they could be made from schoolbooks, but I think they were probably from plane manuals or something like that. Oh, and the ducks and rabbits? Adorable. Completely believable. Moving on.

The “Suddenly Appearing” Background Girls

I’m not getting into recasting—that’s not intentional, that’s just what happens when actors have scheduling conflicts. But let’s be real: no one is actually appearing out of nowhere. People have already pointed out that during the funeral scene in the pilot, there were way more survivors than the ones we focused on. That’s just how background characters work. If they’re not important yet or don’t have lines, they won’t always be shown. Simple as that.

Some girls just weren’t as central at first and became more important over time—like Melissa, for example. Shauna even says in S3E2 that she didn’t realize Melissa had a personality, which basically confirms that she (and probably the other core girls) weren’t paying attention to everyone equally. They weren’t all besties from day one.

And let’s not forget: Yellowjackets, like every other show, has main characters—Natalie, Shauna, Lottie, Misty, Tai, and Van. The story is built around them. That’s just how TV works.

The “Unreliable Memory” Theory

The biggest reason I don’t buy the “trauma repressed memory” theory? I have zero reason to believe that what I’m seeing on screen isn’t the truth.

Yes, the teen timeline is often tied to the adult timeline, but the adults aren’t narrating it. Not all the time, at least. Sure, I believe they’ve repressed things or forgotten details, but this is still a TV show. If something happened, we see it. If the show wanted us to question the reality of what went down, they wouldn’t have shown things like Doomcoming, eating Jackie, or Javi’s death so directly.

And don’t even get me started on the “supernatural” events—the bear, Laura Lee’s plane crash, all of it. If anyone wants to talk about that, I will go off, but for now, I fully believe it’s all real.

[bbearthyy]

just plain dumb.

omg my first daryl dixon fic and it’s angst what’s wrong with me who have i become? anyways-

cw: daryl dixon x reader, merle dixon, daryl’s dad, dyslexic daryl, possibly autistic daryl? it’s not bluntly stated rly but heavily implied, angst, hurt/comfort, cursing, kinda dom reader but in more like a comforting “i’m here now even though no one has been before” type way not a smex way, very much self deprecating daryl he hates himself

not of my works are ever proofread!!

daryl dixon has always been dumb. it was just a fact. he knew it from the day he was born and so did everyone around him.

“have you thought that maybe he’s special? like dianne’s kid?” the seven year old had overheard merle and his girlfriend talking on the porch, quietly peeking around the corner to listen in. daryl saw the way merle immediately dismissed the question, like it was an absolutely ridiculous thing to say. “ma brother ain’t a retard. he’s just a lil’ dumb.” and that was that. his girlfriend shrugged and started up a new conversation. the scene caused an ache in the young boy’s chest, and daryl clawed at the pitiful tears in his eyes as he ran back to his bedroom.

if his big brother, his only role model, thought he was dumb? it must’ve been true. not to mention his pa never let him think otherwise.

“fuck you mean you can’t tell if it’s navy or purple?! boy you dumb as a box of rocks!”

“and why in the hell are you just staring at me like you’s got cotton in yer ears? huh?! go clean the damn kitchen, and try to do it right dunce.”

“get the hell up outta my face. a bandaid ain’t gonna fix yer damn knee. you stupid or somethin’?”

so daryl was dumb. and it was fine! he didn’t need to be smart in school or no where else because he could hunt and survive and that’s all that matters anyways. but it still stung sometimes, when merle would try to show him something in the newspaper, and daryl would just squint his eyes at the way the words danced along the page until merle sighed like he was being asked to sign the fuckin declaration of independence instead of just reading something for his kid brother.

it stung when him and glenn would be looking over a map for their next run, and when glenn would name a place instead of pointing to it daryl would go quiet. the redneck would stare at the paper like it’d personally insulted him until the korean man pointed to the place he was talking about.

it stung when carl, little 14 year old carl, had to help him read. when daryl had been given a book by one of the children who insisted he had to read it cause it was about deer. daryl sat in his cell, glaring at the cover of the book, eyes flittering as they tried to decipher what the title “bmaBi” meant. until carl walked in, “oh! you’re reading Bambi? that movie always made me cry as a kid.” and when carl sat beside daryl, seeing his dejected look, he silently grabbed the book, sat it in his own lap, and began to read aloud. daryl cursed the tears that filled his eyes…carl pretended not to see them.

but daryl was never really embarrassed about it. he didn’t need to be. not when he got such high praise for being so good at everything else. he wasn’t embarrassed, that is, until you came along. until you giggled at the way he squinted at most road signs while walking along and he couldn’t tell whether you were picking on him or appreciating his smile lines. (stupid. of course she’s laughing at you. why would she care about some dumb eye wrinkles)

and you never understood why daryl acted the way he did. why every time critical thinking was involved he stepped away until he was told what to do. you didn’t know why he’d grunted when you’d started reading the road signs for him, walking faster so he wouldn’t have to hear it anymore. it was frustrating.

so finally, you confronted him about it. “i just wanna understand you daryl.” you’d spoken to him so softly, one hand gently on the side of his face. your other hand was on the counter behind him, keeping the man pinned between you, the counter, and the wall. he could easily overpower you if need be, but he didn’t want to. “what d’ya mean?” the redneck lowered his voice, speaking just as softly.

“why are you so closed off?”

wow. million dollar question ladies and gentlemen. because…why was he? before, it was understandable. he couldn’t talk to his brother about his problems and he’d be damned if he so much as breathed disappointedly near his father. but now? now he had you. he had rick, carol, maggie, glenn, carl, michonne, be-…. he had a family. one that really cared about him. so why was he closed off?

daryl couldn’t come up with a valid reason, so he did what he does best. tearing himself down for the sake of others. “‘s just ‘cause ‘m dumb.” the older man had mumbled so quietly, you almost didn’t hear him. but when the words registered in your mind, you’d wished they hadn’t. “what?”

daryl shrugged, brushing it off as if he’d just told you his favorite color. “‘m dumb. just plain dumb.” oh how he regretted ever speaking. your eyes were watering, the sides of your mouth downturned and, oh God, is your bottom lip trembling? daryl is the worst person ever and he’s dumb and he made you cry and why are you looking at him so lovingly he’s just made you cry and -

“oh, daryl. my poor baby. who made you believe that?”

oh. oh daryl, daryl was crying. the tears came trickling down like the moisture on the grass after a foggy night. the redneck, although bigger than you in every way, felt so so small right now. he stumbled forward, head falling into your neck as his shaky arms attempted to wrap around you. this was nice. you were nice. and you smell good. daryl doesn’t mean to say these things aloud but then your soft voice responds, “thank you, baby.” and he’s tensing up, waiting for you to push him away, but you just giggle and tug him closer.

later tonight you’ll lay in bed together. daryl will have his head on your tummy while you run your fingers through his hair. you’ll hum a soft lullaby and daryl will pretend it doesn’t tear his heart to shreds when he recognizes it as one his mother used to sing him. but he doesn’t have to pretend for long. you pull him closer, wipe away his tears, hum softer. and daryl sleeps, for the first time in years, without a single nightmare plaguing his slumber.

[madamspellmans-met-tet]

yes maybe any rules you follow while writing or what you think is important? would really help and I bet there's lots of ppl who wanna know

ok so I’ve put together a few but these are just my opinions. I’m not a fan of writing rules, so keep in mind that these are just my personal guidelines that I’ve learned over years and that always have exceptions. The most important thing is to have fun and to develop a feeling for what works and that’s something you only get through experience. My first fanfiction was crap but I had a blast writing it anyway. Hope this helps, lmk if you have questions 💕

Beginner:

Formatting. This is about reading economy for the reader. get rid of empty lines (there’s shortcuts in word for that). Use paragraphs (there’s info online when to start a new one). Use quotation marks (“” or »«, don’t get fancy). Punctuation (em vs en dash, comma goes before the quotation mark etc.). No caps lock. Use bold or italic for emphasis.

Consistency. choose whatever narrator you prefer, the tense to write in and the pov—stick to it throughout. See also: “head hopping”

Grammar & spelling. Doesn’t have to be perfect but just using a simple spell checker helps get rid of major issues.

Advanced:

in medias res. start as late as possible in the scene and leave at the earliest point. skip the simple stuff like waking up or falling asleep unless you have a reason to. This keeps the tension up.

always say less than necessary. give as little info in dialogue as possible. Usually I’ll write what I want the character to say and then go over it again and cut it to the bare minimum. People never say what they actually mean. I aim for not more than 2-3 sentences per direct speech section.

Avoid info dumping. Don’t have a character tell you their backstory. Show how it affects them today and drop subtle hints at it. Use environmental storytelling. When describing environment, sprinkle details throughout instead of putting them in a paragraph and try to always relate them to the character. Like what do they think of the carpet? Do they have a memory attached to it? Maybe the forest seems dark and lost to them because they have been kidnapped and feel lost. Stuff like that.

Rule of 3. This is for foreshadowing etc. once you mention something 3 times for some reason it gives the reader a sense of consistency and “roundness”. Referencing something that happened earlier in the story also helps make the world feel more real.

Avoid head hopping. Don’t switch from one character’s pov to the other’s in the same paragraph. Better even avoid it in the same scene or chapter. It’s hard to follow.

Overused phrases. “She released a breath she didn’t know she was holding” and more (you’ll find lists of that online).

Very niche:

Remove the filter. Whenever you’re tempted to write words like “saw”, “felt”, “heard” or other words pertaining to senses, see if you can rephrase the sentence. Just describe the thing directly. Ex: instead of writing “I looked at the clock.” write -> “The old fashioned clock on the wall showed it was already past lunch time.”

Said is not dead. Don’t overdo it with the dialogue tags. Said is a word that the reader skips over and doesn’t notice. It focuses the attention on the story rather than the writing, so no need to show off your vocab. Again, this is a case of do everything in measures. It’s not forbidden to use other dialogue tags on occasion—dosage is key!

Dosing adverbs (words ending in -ly). Same thing. Whenever I use an adverb in my writing followed by a verb, I try to think about whether there is a stronger verb to use so I won’t need the adverb. But sometimes it’s perfectly okay to use it. Like when you try to show a contrast. “She smiled happily” is redundant because a smile usually indicates happiness and you could use “she beamed” instead. But if you write “she smiled sadly” it’s an oxymoron and therefore a strong use of an adverb.

Metaphors/purple prose. Good and necessary but don’t overdo it. Rule of thumb for me is: use metaphors and similes etc to describe sensory input but keep it simple when describing actions. No need to write “she removed her elusive presence from the limited space of existence surrounding us.” Instead of “she left the room.”

A good scene for me ends in a different place (emotionally or/and physically) than it began.

Character voice. study the way a character speaks and try to mirror that in your writing. What kind of vocab do they use? Where are they from? Do they swear? What terms of endearment do they use? Do they speak more formal or informal or even slang? Where do they come from?

My favourite story structure: chiastic or reversed chiastic. Not gonna explain it here, if you’re interested you can look it up. This is just a personal favourite.

[loveandlegacy]

evolution's destination

so i have seen a few posts about how viktor's "evolution has a destination" line either doesn't make sense or is just a throwaway setup for him to say the fanbaity line of "the final, glorious evolution" – but i wanted to try to give viktor and by extension the writers some credit (however mad some of their choices made me) that that line isnt just incoherent nonsense.

part of my motivation for this is that i think the reading that all of viktor's actions in s2 are the result of him being a quasi-lobotomized shell for the hexcore's "will" is among the least interesting ways to interpret what was going on with his arc and probably does the greatest disservice to viktor as a character. i think we are supposed to understand him saying this as an important part of the broader context of his life and that he believes it for truly horrifying reasons.

so anyway. getting into this comes with the warning that the forthcoming reception requires me to take the overarching ableism of the metatext (not viktor's internalized ableism but the attitudes of the show itself) for what it is. i don't especially like it, but it is what it is and there's not much to say about it.

given that, i think it's better to receive the "evolution" scene as part of that deliberate choice to enable the narrative to lead up to and make possible viktor and jayce's love confession at the end.

so here we go.

viktor asserts that evolution has a destination in a philosophical debate with singed, and i would argue this is intended to make viktor's actual worldview as clear as possible to the audience before he decides to pop off and fembotify the world at large.

taking the argument with singed at face value: viktor opens the debate by asking if singed believes in fate and in their lives being guided by an invisible hand. it seems like a kind of weird question to ask considering they were at no point talking about destiny prior in the conversation – but i think on examination it makes sense.

viktor's encounter with singed begins with singed immediately violating viktor's personal space, which reveals to viktor the existence (or non-existence) of orianna.

entombed as she is in a glass sarcophagus, this dead little girl's stasis state recalls viktor's much beloved rio in her chemical tank. the blocking is interesting here – viktor and singed are on the same side of orianna's sarcophagus. for a moment, he and singed occupy a similar place in the universe: men of science. but in the present world, he and singed stand opposite each other.

they may both be men of science but they disagree about what ends science should be used towards and how it even works. viktor makes this clear when he tells singed "knowledge is a paradox. the more one understands, the more one realizes the vastness of his ignorance" as a rebuttal to singed saying he wishes he could know the world through viktor's eyes.

they then go on to disagree about even more. singed calls warwick a specimen, viktor says he's a man. singed wants to use warwick to save viktor from the deleterious effects of being connected to the arcane and viktor refuses, saying that it would be a pointless waste of warwick's life in service of ambessa's warmongering. singed refutes this and argues that the point of this blood sacrifice is to enable viktor to continue his work – "to save us from ourselves."

we are invited to doubt this motivation, viktor's visions showing us singed caressing not warwick but orianna's sarcophagus. there is no 'us' in this situation, there is only one particular person singed is interested in saving and it's orianna.

immediately following this vision, and immediately before viktor asks if singed believes in fate, singed says "you must survive, viktor". as many people before me have pointed out, this is a callback to his s1 statement that "the mutation must survive". this doesn't only tie viktor to rio, it also connects his story to orianna. singed does not want viktor to survive for his own good or for his work any more than he wanted rio to survive for her own good. viktor is another subject in question – another specimen in the long line of singed's various biomedical crimes, the same as rio.

genetic experimentation and selective breeding (and necromancy lol) aren't the same things as fate, but humans forcing a particular evolutionary direction onto other creatures can be read as a kind of 'invisible hand' if you think about it from the perspective of the test subjects in question.

given that viktor is the presumed 'mutation' in this conversation, we can understand him to also be the subject whose fate is guided or reoriented by this invisible hand via piltover's pollution of zaun, his own attempts at capturing magic through science being thwarted by powers greater than him, and eventually the hexcore yanking him back from death at the beginning of the season.

he even asks his question about fate while staring at the fractal patterns of the greenhouse glass! presenting us with ever-repeating patterns and cycles with no end.

in this light, viktor is asking singed if humans are in fact fated by forces outside of their control or if at least some humans can overcome those forces to reorient the total forward trajectory of the species.

singed says no and asserts that the only ruling force in nature is evolution, which is always in flux. this reveals something kind of interesting about singed imo and his relationship to death and his thoughts about orianna but that's a different post. for the purposes of this analysis he's saying what is true, which is that even genetic modification/manipulation and scientific interrogation – both things he has mastered in his own way – are still subject to engine of evolution well beyond whatever interventions humans are capable of.

this is the moment when viktor comes back with, "no, evolution has a destination – not to combat nature, but to supersede it. the final, glorious evolution".

much as i enjoy the funny dunks on this statement for its scientific incorrectness, i think there is something to the fact that viktor basically rejects singed's description of evolution and then turns around and treats evolution as the same thing as fate. he makes the 'evolution has a destination' statement while studying his hexcore-transformed hand.

i am struggling to remember the post that initially made this point click for me (i think it might have been this gifset but i will edit if i find something that made the argument more explicitly), but by studying his hand in this way, the visual language of the moment is telling us that viktor has come to see his own body as the evolutionary destination in question and the thing that supersedes nature/its unpredictable flux.

now comes the part where we dive into the idea that all of viktor's choices from the very beginning were shaped by having always been ashamed of his disability and that this shame is what guided him to his beautifying* eugenics project specifically. binomech has a thorough post explaining this reading of the text in depth and i recommend reading it through because it provides the foundation for what i'm about to say.

in the context of studying his own, violently transformed body – a process that required a traumatic death (or near-death, depending) and then the one man he loved and trusted most in all of piltover using the technology they created together to save his life despite viktor asking him to destroy the hexcore with the full knowledge that he was going to die anyway, even without the bombing – we can understand that the hexcore has granted viktor a kind of supremacy over his own former-fate. something horrible happened to him, but because of that horror, he was reborn not only free of the damage from the bombing, but also free of the things that fated him to an early death from birth.

exposure to toxic waste, piltover's ethnic discrimination against and industrial exploitation of zaun, the terminal illness for which he is repeatedly punished in season 1 for wanting to escape, his lifelong disability that marks him as even more of an outsider in piltover – these are all things completely outside of his control, all factors that determined how his life would be before he was even born. these things are the 'invisible hand' guiding the trajectory his life would follow, up to and including being in the council room when jinx's bomb hit. even jayce using the hexcore to save him could arguably be seen as part of this fate in which he had no say.

but the hexcore also "liberates" him.

it gives him a body he didn't ask for but it extends his life. it dissolves his disability and it gives him literal supernatural powers in its place. it allows him to build a commune verdant and overflowing with life in the basin of his home where people were thrown away like human trash. he was fated, but his fate also gave him a destination.

if we understand that viktor has, from his childhood, developed a particular sense of internalized ableism and come to see his body as a weakness that he needs to overcome or reject, that he agrees with piltover's view of him, then it makes sense why he talks about 'superseding' nature. it's not a scientific concept or even a fact of nature that he's after now that he's been forcibly transformed.

he's talking specifically about the supernatural, about what the arcane has offered him as a way out of his circumstances. he not only gets the able body that presumably the whole world reminded him at every turn was the better body to the point that he'd be ashamed of his own, he gets to go beyond this assimilationist idea of becoming what piltover wanted. he forces a fullblown eugenics project on the world at large in which no one is ever disabled or sick or capable of exploitation because they just they are hollowed out expressions of his vision of perfection, made of porcelain and gold, the dazzling colors of piltover's wealth and prosperity otherwise known as the colors of progress. this vision he has of painlessness and perfection has been shaped in part by a lifetime of punishment for having the "wrong" kind of body and for experiencing any amount of grief or rage over having been treated unfairly by piltover's hegemonic culture.

he was remade by magic and magic in turn enables him to guide evolution beyond what nature would allow. a world remade as he was into something unbreakable because it's perfect and empty.

as binomech says, i don't especially like the metatextual politics of this storyline, but it's the story they chose to tell. it follows through on its thematic promises for viktor, who spends the whole season on a runway up to what singed told him in s1. love and legacy are worth sacrificing for progress. his evolution has its destination. because of his many violent collisions with death, he was, however briefly and grotesquely, the mutation that survived.

*i say 'beautifying' because there are other kinds of eugenics projects that one could undertake since 'eugenics' itself is a movable target/fallible concept that hinges entirely on what one person or one culture thinks counts as 'desirable' traits. viktor's eugenics project is very particular to him, where his cultists-and-eventual-pretty-borgbots are all flawless, elegant, and eventually completely featureless, non-reproductive, entities

[brummiereader]

@mischievouslittlecreature yes Lucy 👏🏼!

Ahhhh, I loved this chapter! I could scream with happiness how Lucy said everything i've wanted her to say to Lizzie for so long now! You have no idea how satisfying it was to see Lucy laying it all brutally out, for Lizzie to see 😈.

Ruby...what a little sweetie. I love her relationship with Lucy. I like to think that maybe Lucy's kindness has rubbed off on her 🥰.

This line though....Lily 😭! “Noooo! I’m never gonna get old!” Ruby laughed. Wow the foreshadowing has given me chills. Poor little darling doesn't know how true these words will be 😞.

It did not take long for her to hear the sounds of Lizzie and Charlie singing Happy Birthday to Ruby in the other room. This was such an upsetting little part. Lizzie making Lucy feel secluded enough she was worried to join in, will never help the situation. If anything it just pushes Tommy further away to see his girl not sharing in any of these family moments.

“I didn’t have a nicer time.” 👈🏼 see. Tommy's a pouty mess when he's not with her.

Lucy stared at him, eyes wide, mouth half agape. Lizzie thought that Tommy was going to die. She thought that he was on the precipice of death, that he was suicidal, and all she cared about was fucking money!? And she told him that!? This!! This is absolutely not what someone who's in love with someone would think! This is the polar opposite to Lucy's reaction everytime she thinks about Tommy dying. This always ALWAYS rubbed me the wrong way when Lizzie said this. And you could see the hurt in Tommy's face after. I knew it would take a moment like this for Lucy to finally fly of the handle when it comes to Lizzie. Tommys life always comes first to her. The mere thought of him dying is enough for Lucy to lose it.

And the next scene only further proves this. With Tommy trying to calm the situation between Aberama and Johnny, Lucy had eyes on Tommy. Even more so when Lizzie comes out guns blazing 🙄. Lizzie is really getting on my last nerve, and the next part was so epic I was kicking my feet cheering Lucy on!

“Enough of this. Alright? Enough.” She was so angry she was nearly shaking, but thankfully no tremor found its way into her voice. “Enough with the crying. And complaining. And the fucking temper tantrums every other bloody week.” She shook her head back and forth. “What are you doing? Do you really think that being hateful to me and using your daughter to hurt him is going to endear him towards you? Really? That’s your great master plan to make him fall in love with you?” I would quote this entire part, but this passage in particular sums up all our frustrations with Lizzie.

I didn't think Lizzie would intentionally stoop that low. But using Ruby against Tommy was a step way, way too far. We've seen glimpses of her subtly using Charlie against Tommy, but this was point blank obvious. Saying she's scared of her own dad, is frankly, awful.

Lizzie at least had the decency to look a little guilty. “I’m sorry–” - “Oh please. No you’re not!” Lucy laughed humorlessly. “You always fucking do this, Lizzie. You throw some big, grand temper tantrum and then you act all apologetic after the fact. Yep! We've seen her immaturity countless times at this point. Nobody's gonna fool for it anymore.

Lizzie looked down at her hands, ringing them together. “I love him, Lucy,” she finally said helplessly. This pissed me off as much as it pissed Lucy off. She loves her version of him she's created in her head. Not the real Tommy, else she wouldn't have made the remark about taking over if he died, or the amount of money that would be left to her 😤.

Woah, what an intense scene. But where does this leave them? Lizzie may be scared of Lucy and the threat of getting hurt if she dares to overstep the line again, BUT...why is it I see a possibility of Lizzie having another major tantrum again 😬?

Excellent chapter, Lily! All this build up makes me think something about to snap though 😬. I'm on the edge of my seat!

Part 26: Do You Love Me

Summary: Celebrations for Ruby's birthday are interrupted when Aberama arrives with claims of betrayal and a desire for vengeance.

Word Count: 5,478

Warnings: Violence, suicidal thoughts, and references to minor character death.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 7: Endless Night

When they got home, Tommy touched her gently by the arm. Eyes lowering, his tongue darted out to wet his lips. 

“I need to go talk to Lizzie about her letter.”

She frowned, wondering if now, on his daughter’s birthday of all days, was a good time to pick a potential fight with her mother. But she supposed that there was no point really in trying to put it off. 

“Okay. I’ll make myself scarce.”

He frowned at the wording, entwining their fingers and raising her hand to press a kiss to the back of it. “I don’t expect we’ll be long.”

She gave him a peck on the lips. “Good luck.”

He gave her an agonized look that she was pretty sure was meant to be a smile, but came out as more of a grimace. Her fingers fiddled at her rings as she watched him head towards his office. Turning, she made her way towards the sitting room, hoping to seek out the kids or maybe one of the animals to keep her company. 

“Lucy!”

She started at the sound of Ruby’s voice, smiling when she spotted the little girl racing down the stairs towards her. 

“Hey, birthday girl!” She bent down to scoop her up, groaning overdramatically as she lifted her. “You’re getting so big, sweetheart! I won’t be able to carry you around for much longer.”

“Noooooo!” Ruby cried, but she was giggling toothily. Trailing behind her, Lizzie descended the stairs, heels clicking delicately against the floor.

“Tommy wants to see you in his office,” Lucy told her in a gentle voice. Lizzie just nodded, but her eyes darted to Ruby. “I got her.”

Lizzie reached out to stroke a lock of Ruby’s hair back. “You stay with Lucy, alright sweetheart? I’ll be just a few minutes.”

“And then we can have cake?”

Lizzie stifled a laugh. Lucy smiled. “Yes, sweet one.”

Ruby wriggled happily, watching with Lucy as her mother wandered away in the direction of Tommy’s office. Hitching her up higher on her hip, Lucy carried her from the stairway and into one of the nearby sitting rooms. Strategically far enough away from the office that, if any yelling started, Ruby hopefully wouldn’t be able to hear. With a huff, she collapsed back onto one of the couches, setting Ruby down on the cushion next to her.

“So. What did you get up to today, little miss? Hm?”

“Well…” Ruby giggled. “Mummy took me and Charlie to afternoon tea at the Midland.”

“Did she now? Did you have fun?”

Ruby nodded vigorously. 

“Did you get to open any of your presents yet?”

She pouted a little, dark doe eyes widening. “No. Mummy said not until after you and Daddy came home.”

“Ah. Well that was very thoughtful of her. I’m sure that your dad will want to see you open them.”

“Yeah,” Ruby shifted to snuggle into her side, picking at a loose thread on her dress. Lucy wrapped an arm around her, head cocking as she examined the little girl. Outwardly, she seemed her usual cheerful self. But there was something in the slight lowering of her eyes that made Lucy frown. 

“You okay, sweetie?”

“Uh huh. I just think that Mummy’s sad, is all.”

Your mummy is always sad, sweet one, Lucy thought, throat turning to sandpaper as she swallowed around the words. 

“It’s been…a bit of a difficult time at Daddy’s work lately, love. And it’s been affecting all of us. Including your mum.” She hoped that would be a good enough explanation about what was happening. Ruby frowned. “But hey,” she quickly moved to reassure the child, “your daddy will take care of it, eh? He always does.”

Ruby nodded. “Daddy takes care of everyone.”

“Yes, he does.”

A crease formed between her brows, those dark eyes darting to Lucy’s, wide with worry. “But who will take care of Daddy, Lucy?”

She felt her heart squeeze a little at the girl’s sweetness. Always a daddy’s girl. From the very moment she’d been born.

“I will, Ruby. That’s what I’m here for. You don’t need to worry.”

“You promise?” Ruby’s eyes were beseeching. Lucy smiled down at her. 

“Yes, honey, I promise.”

Seemingly satisfied, Ruby wrapped her little arms around her and nestled her head against her shoulder. Lucy stroked a hand over her hair.

“We can make it part of your birthday present, hm? What do you think?” she asked, hoping to lighten the mood. It seemed to work, Ruby grinning brightly. 

“Yeah! Okay!”

“Happy birthday, kiddo.” She kissed the top of her head. “Just you wait. Soon you’ll be old like me.”

“Noooo! I’m never gonna get old!” Ruby laughed. Lucy chuckled. “Can we play cards?” 

Lucy pressed her smiling lips together. Young as Ruby still may have been, it was her philosophy that you were never too young to start learning how to swindle at poker. She’d been teaching both the kids various card games since they were practically still in nappies. 

“Of course. I’m sure we can find a deck around here somewhere.”

It only took a little searching for them to find one, and they were just wrapping up their first game when Frances came in. 

“Miss. Winters, Mrs. Shelby asked that I take the children to the drawing room at seven for cake.”

At the mention of cake, Ruby bolted up from her seat and went racing for the door. Lucy smiled a little to herself, reaching across the table to gather up the cards and arrange them in a neat little stack. 

“Are you not coming, Miss?”

She looked up to find Frances still hovering in the doorway. She offered the housekeeper a weak smile. She had not been expressly invited to the celebrations going on in the next room. Nor did she feel bold enough to try to force her way into being included. Lizzie didn’t want her there, so she would respect her wishes. 

You are so fucking selfish.

The words had cut her deeper than she’d initially thought. Cycling in her head. Tormenting her. Leaving her to lie awake at night, staring up at the canopy, and wondering, for perhaps the thousandth time, if her presence truly was as massively damaging as Lizzie made it out to be. 

“They don’t want me there.”

“That’s not true, Miss.”

“Well, I’d rather not have to deal with Lizzie’s temper, today.” 

“Mrs. Shelby…she sometimes lets her jealousy get the best of her, but deep down, I don’t think she dislikes you nearly as much as you think.”

“Yeah,” Lucy whispered. She had thought that too, once. But as time went on it got harder and harder to believe. “Thank you, Frances.”

“Of course, Miss. I’ll leave you be.”

She nodded gratefully, curling her legs under her on the couch, plucking up a book sitting on the end table. The room was dimly lit, not the best for reading, but it fit the mood she was in. As she flipped through it idly, Trouble crept out from wherever it was she had been hiding, and curled into her lap. 

It did not take long for her to hear the sounds of Lizzie and Charlie singing Happy Birthday to Ruby in the other room. Her throat tightened, chest suddenly aching sharply with the feeling of exclusion and loneliness. Snapping the book shut, she stood, scooping Trouble up into her arms. With quick steps she headed for Tommy’s office, where she was unlikely to hear the sounds of the family singing and celebrating. 

Setting Trouble down on a nearby armchair, Lucy picked up a few stacks of papers on Tommy’s desk, sitting down and beginning to look them over. Trouble found her way into her lap again, meowing in complaint everytime Lucy ceased petting her even for a moment. She wondered if the cat could sense her distress. It would explain why she was suddenly insistent on remaining so close to her.  

The door opened perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes later. Tommy’s heavy footfalls approached her slowly, coming to a stop right beside her. 

“I was looking for you.”

Lucy swallowed harshly, the action burning a little. She cleared her throat. “Sorry.”

“Why didn’t you come for cake?”

“Didn’t want to spoil things.”

“You could never spoil things.”

“Lizzie would disagree. I’m sure that she had a much nicer time without me there to pop her happy little bubble.”

“I didn’t have a nicer time.”

She finally looked up from the papers she had been pointedly keeping her gaze fixed on. He was standing over her, a plate containing a slice of chocolate cake with a silver fork balanced on the edge clutched in one hand. His eyes were tired and hurt.

Another sharp pang of guilt twisted like a knife in her heart. “I’m sorry.”

He examined her for a moment more, then looked away. “It’s alright.” It clearly wasn’t, but she didn’t really want to discuss it further. At least not right then. He held out the plate to her. “I brought you this.”

Setting aside her papers, she took it. “Thank you.” Watching him walk around the desk to sit behind it, she frowned at the continued look of open distress on his features. Trouble hopped off of her lap to follow him, brushing her little body against his ankles. “Did Ruby have a good time?”

“She loves her presents.” He shot her a knowing look which Lucy shied away from. They both were well aware that most of the gifts with his name on them had actually been purchased by her. 

“Good. That’s good.” Taking up her fork, she gathered up a small bite of the cake. It was dense and rich. Sweet on her tongue, with just the right edge of bitterness to keep the sweetness from being too overpowering. As she chewed, she eyed Tommy, worry growing by the minute. “Are you alright?”

He cleared his throat, looking away from her to some far off, distant point. “I got a call.” He didn’t need to specify from whom. “I asked them some questions about Michael, but they didn’t have anything of much use for us.”

“Okay…” That wasn’t really all that surprising, all things considered. Disappointing, maybe. But it didn’t seem like reason enough for him to appear so upset. “How did your talk with Lizzie go?”

He didn’t respond, still staring at a nondescript place on the far wall. Setting her fork down, she put the plate on the desk in front of her and leaned forward to try to get in his line of sight. 

“Tommy?”

He came to with a jerk, eyes snapping to hers. “Hm?”

“What did Lizzie say?”

The way that his face fell told her that she’d found the source of his sullen mood. Lucy tensed, preparing herself for whatever new venom Lizzie had chosen to throw at him. Tommy drew in a deep, painful breath. 

“She said that she took Ruby to Arthur’s because she’s scared of me.”

Lucy’s brows drew in. Already that made no sense. Ruby adored Tommy. Not once had she shown fear towards him. If anything it was the opposite. He was always the one that she wanted whenever she had nightmares or was frightened of the monster under her bed. 

But Tommy wasn’t done yet. “Lizzie says that when she knows I’m not coming home that she’s…different.”

Rage, hot and trembling, began to course through her. Her fingers balled into fists, little crescents digging into her skin as she fought to leash her temper.

How fucking dare Lizzie try to use that sweet girl to hurt him. She knew how much Tommy loved Ruby; how important she was; how cherished the relationship that they had was to his heart. 

One look at Tommy’s face, and she realized that was not all. There was something more. “What else?” she asked, working hard to keep most of the anger coursing through her out of her voice. 

Tommy smacked his lips together. His thumb was moving back and forth anxiously, she could see, where it was resting on his thigh. 

“She’s concerned that if I get killed, or end up offing myself, that there won’t be anything left for her.” He choked out a humorless laugh. “She thinks that if I’m gone, she’d take my place in everything.”

Lucy stared at him, eyes wide, mouth half agape. Lizzie thought that Tommy was going to die. She thought that he was on the precipice of death, that he was suicidal, and all she cared about was fucking money!? And she told him that!?

She opened her mouth to speak. Or maybe to just let out a scream of rage before flying out of her chair to go find Lizzie and throttle her, when the growl of an engine quickly approaching the house sounded from outside. 

Her brows knit. Tommy frowned, standing and going to peek out the window. A bark sounded from near the front door. Shadow. 

“Tell Lizzie to get the kids upstairs,” Tommy said, springing into motion. Lucy nodded, rage momentarily forgotten as she hurried out of the office and to the drawing room. Lizzie was seated with Charlie and Ruby, playing with some of Ruby’s new toys. Lizzie looked up, saw her expression, heard the approaching engine, and shot out of her seat, taking both children by the hand and rushing them towards the stairs. Lucy gave her a quick nod in approval. At the very least, she could always depend on Lizzie to keep the kids safe.

Barreling from the drawing room, she met Tommy at the cupboard loaded with weapons. Her fingers flexed around the rifle he pressed into her hands, bringing the stock to rest against her shoulder. Together, they headed for the front entryway. 

Shadow was still barking and growling by the door. “Stay, boy,” Lucy ordered. He quieted and sat down on his haunches immediately, though his brown eyes followed them as they went outside. Tommy plastered himself against the wall of the archway that curled over the front door, a hand signaling for Lucy to take position behind him, her side also pressed to the cold wall that was serving as their cover.

They remained completely still, just listening with hands gripping tight to their weapons. The car engine jutted to a halt, then shut off entirely in the driveway. One of the car doors opened, followed by a thud, and sharp groans of pain. 

Lucy frowned when she recognized the voice that started calling out Tommy’s name. “Is that Johnny?”

With fluid movements that greatly resembled that of a big cat, Tommy sprang into motion. Lifting his gun to level with the car as he stepped out onto the drive, he began shouting orders to the person still inside behind the wheel. Lucy followed behind, rifle raised to cover him. Her eyes squinted at the driver’s seat, trying to make out in the shadows who was seated behind the wheel. Johnny Dogs had been dumped out onto the ground, writhing and clutching at his side. 

When Aberama stepped out of the car, Lucy felt her breathing hitch in horror. He was bloodied, tears shining in his eyes. There was something half mad in them that made her skin prickle with alarm. She kept her rifle raised, just in case. Despite Aberama not holding any weapons in his hands.  

Her blood chilled as Aberama started to speak in a voice laced with tears. Telling them of how Bonnie had been strung up on a cross and shot while they were camping out in the wilderness. At Tommy’s question as to who had attacked them, he reached into his pocket, and threw a crumpled ball of paper to them. Lucy kept her rifle trained on Aberama as Tommy stepped forward to pick it up and unfurled it. She glanced over Tommy’s shoulder at the words scrawled in black, the paper stained red with blood. 

BY ORDER OF THE BILLY BOYS.

Her eyes snapped back to Aberama as he explained that only Johnny Dogs had known where they were camped. Johnny immediately started to try to insist on his innocence. That sent Aberama into a rage, lunging at him where he was still curled on the ground.

 Tommy put down his weapon and jumped between them, trying to wrestle Aberama off of Johnny. Lucy kept a careful distance away from them, rifle still raised in case she needed to use it. She couldn’t fire as long as they were all tussling together like that, though. She wouldn’t risk hitting Tommy, and she didn’t want to outright kill Aberama or Johnny either. At least not before they had a clearer understanding of what had happened. She could always shoot Aberama in the leg to incapacitate him. She didn’t want to, but she would if she had to. 

Tommy managed to pull the two men apart, and Lucy took a cautious step closer to Johnny, lowering her rifle a little. Taking hold of Aberama, Tommy started to try to calm him down and talk sense into him. As Tommy continued to speak, Aberama suddenly went still, his gaze turning cold. 

“They crucified my son…for you,” his voice had lowered considerably into a malicious murmur. 

Lucy brought her finger to rest on the trigger of her rifle at the same moment that Aberama lunged for the gun Tommy had left lying on the ground. He had just coiled his fingers around it, half raising it to level with Tommy’s chest, when two gunshots rang out sharply. 

But the bullets came not from Lucy’s gun, nor from Aberama’s. 

They came from Lizzie’s.

They all jerked with surprise, the thundering echoes of the gunshots reverberating all around them. Lucy felt her muscles lock with the preparation for a fight before she realized what was happening. Aberama drew back, hunching over himself as if expecting to be shot. Johnny cringed. Tommy’s eyes snapped to where the shots had come from, wide with shock and fury.  

Lizzie came barreling down the steps leading to the front door. The gun she’d just fired into the sky waved wildly at all of them. Her eyes were bulging and she was screaming, demanding that they all get away. 

“This is my house! And I don’t want you back. I don’t want you back!” She looked half out of her mind, the gun aimed squarely at Tommy’s chest. Lucy stared at her in shock. Fear locked around her throat when for one terrible moment, she actually thought that Lizzie might pull the trigger. 

Tommy recovered first from the silence and stillness that the outburst had stunned them all into. With quick footsteps, he walked his way over to Lizzie. Lucy tensed, half rising her rifle towards Lizzie when she didn’t lower the gun, panicking that Tommy’s approach would trigger her to fire.

But she didn’t, and he ripped the gun from her hand with ease, opening the chamber and dumping all the remaining golden bullets out onto the drive. Lizzie smiled spitefully, rabidness still gleaming in her eyes. 

Tommy stuffed the emptied gun into the front of his trousers, then stalked over to Aberama to snatch away the rifle still held limply in his hand. It seemed that the shock of Lizzie’s intervention had drained all his remaining will and strength, leaving him swaying dangerously on his feet. His face was pale, left arm limp at his side.

“You wanna take on the Billy Boys? You need me alive,” Tommy said to him, then turned to fix his gaze pointedly at Lizzie, voice raising. “Everyone fucking needs me,” he said, no small amount of bitterness enveloping the words. Lizzie sneered at him, hate shining bright in her eyes. Lucy wondered if she actually would have had it in her to shoot him. If maybe she even had wanted to. 

But her interruption had allowed Tommy to seize back control over the situation. Aberama slumped against a nearby stone bench with a soft groan, while Tommy ordered Lizzie back inside to call an ambulance for him. She gave each of them individually a look of deep contempt, but did as she was told, turning to stalk back into the house. 

“Stay with him,” Tommy said to Lucy while he moved to haul Johnny inside. She nodded, shouldering her rifle and going to sit beside Aberama. They sat in silence, watching as Tommy helped a sobbing Johnny through the front door. Aberama’s breathing was wheezing and labored. 

It was quiet inside the house for a while, likely as Tommy got Johnny settled in one of the rooms. But then there was muffled shouting, both Tommy and Lizzie’s voices distinctive in their raised volumes. 

“Do they always argue like that?” Aberama asked softly after a few minutes passed and the yelling didn’t cease.

“Yes,” Lucy mumbled, staring down at her hands. Tommy finally came outside at the sound of the ambulance approaching, speaking to the driver in a low voice before helping them to load Aberama into the back. 

“What about Johnny?” she asked, standing beside Tommy and watching as the ambulance pulled away.

“Maisie, Clara, and Sandra are taking care of him.”

She nodded. Their maids were no stranger to setting bones and sewing up wounds.

“That letter the Billy Boys left that Aberama threw at me,” Tommy began, “it was written in the same style and handwriting as the one that was on the scarecrow in the field with the landmines.”

Lucy’s eyes widened. In her mind, she could see Bonnie, strung up on a cross not unlike the scarecrow out in the field. “Oh…” she swallowed, throat suddenly dry. “At least we know who left us them, then.”

Tommy hummed. She looked over at him worriedly and reached out to rub his shoulder. “Johnny’s not a traitor.” There was a list–albeit a very short one–of the few people whom she knew in her bones would never betray them. Johnny Dogs was on that list. 

“Agreed.”

“So how did the Billy Boys find them?”

“I don’t know,” he shook his head. Lucy looked out across the grounds, towards where the thick smattering of trees began on the property. Her lip caught between her teeth.

“Maybe it was just bad luck.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“No,” she sighed, reaching up a hand to run over her hair. “Not really.”

“Come on,” he brushed a hand across her shoulder. “Let’s get inside.”

She followed him back into the house. While he went to go check up on Johnny, she returned her rifle to the armory. Just as she was closing it up, she heard heels clicking against the floor. Protectiveness flared fiercely inside her at the memory of Lizzie brandishing the revolver in Tommy’s face.

She told him she doesn’t care if he dies.

The wrath that had briefly been extinguished by Aberama’s arrival returned in full force.

Slamming the cupboard closed, she turned sharply, walking with rapid steps towards where Lizzie was standing in the doorway. Grabbing her firmly by one wrist, she started to half drag her into one of the adjoining sitting rooms. 

“Lucy!? Ow! What the fuck!?” Lizzie cried, and Lucy yanked her through the door, closing it behind them hard enough to nearly rattle the frame. The moment that she let Lizzie go, Lizzie took a step back from her, rubbing at the wrist she’d been gripping. 

“You and I need to talk,” Lucy said, eyes blazing.

Lizzie’s throat worked, drawing herself up to her full, towering height. But there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.

Lucy took a step forward, and when she spoke, her voice was icy calm. “You will never point a gun at him like that again. Ever. Do you understand me?”

Lizzie’s jaw worked, but she didn’t reply, instead just fixing Lucy with a defiant, stubborn expression. Lucy scoffed. 

“Enough of this. Alright? Enough.” She was so angry she was nearly shaking, but thankfully no tremor found its way into her voice. “Enough with the crying. And complaining. And the fucking temper tantrums every other bloody week.” She shook her head back and forth. “What are you doing? Do you really think that being hateful to me and using your daughter to hurt him is going to endear him towards you? Really? That’s your great master plan to make him fall in love with you?”

Lizzie let out a hiss and turned away, cheeks reddening.

“You fucking idiot.” Now that the words were pouring out, she couldn’t stop them. “If you’re going to leave, fine. Fucking leave. But don’t just sit around here, crying and complaining and dragging the rest of us down with you.”

“I do not–”

“Yes, you fucking do, Lizzie! God! It’s like living with a fucking see-saw! Do you understand? Do you realize how exhausting it is? And now on top of every other fucking thing I have to do, I have to worry about you pointing fucking guns at him, and telling him that your daughter’s scared of him.”

Lizzie shrank in on herself a little.  

“You know, I see two possibilities here: either you’re a terrible mother, who has willingly brought your child back into an environment where you know she’s uncomfortable and frightened. Or, you were just saying that because you wanted to hurt him as deeply as you know how.”

Lizzie’s eyes met hers sheepishly, and she had the answer that she already knew. 

“Despite everything, I know you’re not a terrible mother. You’d never have brought her back here if you genuinely thought she was scared of him.”

Lizzie still said nothing, eyes staring back into Lucy’s, defiance slowly ebbing from them at being caught in her lie. 

“You know how much he loves her,” Lucy shook her head. “You know that he would do anything for her. How could you do that to him?”

Lizzie at least had the decency to look a little guilty. “I’m sorry–”

“Oh please. No you’re not!” Lucy laughed humorlessly. “You always fucking do this, Lizzie. You throw some big, grand temper tantrum and then you act all apologetic after the fact. As if that immediately absolves you of everything. It doesn’t. My guilt can’t absolve me of the crime of fucking your husband, and your apologies cannot erase the hurt that you’ve caused. Especially when you keep doing it over and over again.”

She drew in a deep, harsh breath at the end of her rant, taking a step away from Lizzie. Stalking to the windows, she looked out at the dark grounds, fingers toying with each other. In the reflection in the glass, she could see Lizzie still standing motionless in the same spot she’d been in while Lucy yelled at her. Staring at the wall as she processed her words. Lucy wrapped her arms around herself, returning her gaze to outside. Even as she felt Lizzie finally look over at her. 

“You’re scaring me, Lucy,” she said finally in a quiet voice. 

Lucy took no pleasure in the statement, tongue darting out to wet her lips. Looking down, she nodded once to herself. 

“Good.” She turned to face Lizzie. “I think that you’ve forgotten who exactly it is you’re dealing with, here.”

Lizzie stared at her with wide, wounded eyes, and Lucy felt a stab of guilt for how harsh she’d been. But she shoved it away. Because when it came to protecting Tommy, nothing else mattered. 

“Pull yourself together,” she commanded, raising her chin. “Or I will put an end to the entire fucking thing. You know I can. All I have to do is ask him to leave you, and he will. Like that,” she snapped her fingers. The crack seemed to echo throughout the room. “I’m almost fucking there, Lizzie. Because you can hurt me and take jabs at me and say as much hateful shit about me behind my back as you want. But you’re hurting him now. And I won’t allow that.”

The look Lizzie fixed her with was wounded and angry, but also contemplating. Lucy wondered if, just maybe, she had gotten through to her a little.

“We’re friends, Lucy,” Lizzie said, after another moment of silence. For some reason, Lucy found the idea hilarious, bursting into a round of helpless, quiet giggles and shaking her head. 

“No. No; we’re not. That was just a pipe dream.”

Lizzie shuffled a step closer to her. “That’s not true.”

“You’re just saying that to manipulate me. Like you always have. You’ve never actually given a shit about me. It’s all just been about trying to get closer to him.”

“No…it hasn’t…”

“Do you really not see how I may have started to think that every time you’re nice to me, it’s only because you want something?”

Lizzie looked down at her hands, ringing them together. “I love him, Lucy,” she finally said helplessly. 

“No,” Lucy whispered, shaking her head furiously. “Tell me, how exactly did you phrase it, Lizzie? When you were talking about your concerns regarding his potential death? How did you say it?” Her voice had dropped so low it was a miracle Lizzie could hear her. When Lizzie didn’t immediately respond, she raised an eyebrow. “Tell me,” she coaxed. Lizzie shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. 

“I said, I’ll need to know there will be something left.”

Lucy blinked slowly, letting the words sink in and digest. “I need to know there will be something left,” she repeated back at her. Lizzie let out a shaky breath. Lucy shook her head. Her voice remained soft. “No. I don’t know what the fuck this is, but it isn’t love. Someone who loves someone wouldn’t be so focused on making sure that there will be things left for them when faced with the idea of their love’s death.”

Lizzie looked down at her hands. Lucy examined her face, watching the way that her expression fell to one of confliction and exhaustion. She raised a hand to wipe at her eyes, breaths turning shaky.

Lucy inhaled sharply, pulling away before she could allow herself to feel too terrible for making her cry, heading for the door without another word. 

She found Tommy in one of the upstairs bedrooms with Johnny, standing by the window and smoking as the maids finished bandaging Johnny’s ribs. 

“You alright?” she asked Johnny, coming to stand by the bed. He gave her a weak smile. 

“Hurts like a bitch to breathe, but I’ll live.” He looked at the maids tending to him. “Especially with these lovely beauties to look after me, eh?”

Sandra blushed and looked down at her hands. Maisie and Clara–both more seasoned and familiar with Johnny’s antics–chuckled and fondly rolled their eyes. 

“Good,” Lucy gave him a light pat on the shoulder before going over to Tommy. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders with a heavy sigh, reaching over to stub his cigarette out in a nearby ashtray. 

“Right, Johnny. If you’re alright, we’re going to go to bed.”

Johnny nodded, waving them away. Tommy took her hand, and they began the walk to their room. 

“He have anything significant to say?” Lucy asked.

“Nothing useful.”

“Mm.” That wasn’t that surprising. “I don’t like the connection to the Billy Boys. Especially after that whole business between them and Michael. It reeks of…something.”

“Yes, it does.”

“I talked with Lizzie.”

“Oh?”

“Yelled at her, is probably the more appropriate description,” she paused as he opened the door to their room, holding it wide for her to duck inside first. Trouble was curled up on the bed, asleep, though she stirred and meowed at them after Lucy flicked on the lights. Tommy closed the door behind them. “I feel a little bad about it, now.” 

“Don’t be. She’s needed a good talking to for awhile, now.”

“You don’t even know what I said to her.” She moved to sit at her vanity to take off her earrings. They settled in the little dish she kept them in with a clink. 

Tommy kissed her on top of the head, undoing the buttons on his waistcoat. “I trust you.”

Lucy smiled, grabbing a cloth to start wiping away her makeup. The smile faded quickly. “Things between you and her are getting worse.”

“Now what gave you that idea?” He flashed her a humorless smile that came out as more of a grimace, then sighed. “I’ll deal with it.”

“She pointed a gun at you.”

“She did.” 

She parted her lips to speak, then paused, considering her words before finally deciding to utter them. “If she had shot you, I would have killed her.”

Tommy glanced over at her, and smiled sadly. He reached out, resting a hand at the base of her neck, drawing her close so he could press a kiss to her lips. “I know, love.”

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

[prolibytherium]

I never touched it but I feel like i only ever hear positive things said about song of achilles.. in (rough strokes at least) what makes it dogshit to you?

Okay it's been a while since I actually read it so some of this might not be spot on accurate. Sorry if at any point I say 'the book never does xyz' and it actually does once or twice but I think my underlying criticisms are accurate

-Patroclus is made into like this soft gentle tender quivering little yaoi boy. In the source text, he's shown as compassionate and moved by the suffering of his own men (and apparently having some medical skill, tending to the wounded in the camp), but very much invested n combat and very, very good at it (pages worth of descriptions of the guys he's killing left and right). In this, the arguably more complex character from this 8th century BC text is flattened into Being A Healer, he doesn't want to go to war he just wants to help people, he only goes because Achilles has to but he doesn't want to fight he's a HEALER he's a gentle lover NOT A FIGHTER who just wants to help he just wants to help everyone around him he HEALS while Achilles is a doomed warrior who is so good at fighting and KILLING its a DICHOTOMY GUYS!!!LIKE THE BEAUTIFUL SUN AND MOON DOOMED LOVERS SO SAD patocluse HEALER . (I Think he's specifically characterized as being BAD at fighting but might be misremembering)

-I don't remember much about Achilles' characterization I think it just makes him less of a jackass while not adding anything of interest and levels out into being mad boring.

-Not getting into the literal millenias old debate whether the mythological characters Achilles and Patroclus were being characterized as some type of lover by the original oral sources of the Iliad or its Homeric writers. We will never know. We don't even know what (if any) culturally accepted conventions of male homosexuality existed in bronze age Greece (we know much more about their descendants). But there are some interesting elements of their characterization in this direction, with how unconventional their relationship is WITHIN the text itself- Patroclus is described as cooking for Achilles and his guests (very specifically a woman/wife's job), Achilles chides Patroclus like a father, but there's also scene where Achilles' mourning of him directly echoes a passage of Hector's wife mourning her husband, Patroclus is explicitly stated to Achilles' elder, and is overall treated as his equal or near-equal, closest confidant and most beloved friend (to the point that pederastic classical Greeks would debate over who was erastes (older authority figure lover) and who was eromenos (adolescent 'beloved')- many took it as a given that this text depicted their present-day cultural norms of homosexual behavior but it existed so Outside of these norms that it had to be debated who was who). Their relationship is non-standard both within the text and to the descendants of the civilization that wrote them.

Basically what I'm saying is this book had opportunities to like, explore the unconventionality of the relationship (being presented here as explicitly lovers), explore the dynamics of why Patroclus wants to do 'women's work' (besides being a tenderhearted softboy), the weird dynamics where they take on paternal roles to each other but also roles of wives, how they feel about being this way, and just kind of Doesn't. Which I guess isn't an intrinsic fault (because it omits much of what I just talked about to begin with). it's just like.... Lame. This book takes jsut abandons everything interesting about the source text in favor of flattening it into bland Doomed Yaoi.

-The conflict that sets off the core story of the Iliad is Achilles and Agamemnon fighting over Briseis, an enslaved Trojan woman taken by Achilles as a war-trophy, Achilles spends most of the story moping because he was dishonored by his 'trophy' being taken. Achilles and Patroclus and everyone else are raping their captives, all the women in the story are either captured Trojans (or in the case of the free women within the walls of Troy, soon to be enslaved, and are slave owners themselves). Slavery as an institution and extreme patriarchal conventions are innate to the text and reflective of the context in which it was developed. You cannot avoid it.

But obviously you can't have your soft yaoi boys doing this, so the author has them capturing women to Protect Them from the other men. Their slaves are UNDER THEIR PROTECTION and VERY SAFE (and they might even Like And Befriend Them but I might be misremembering that. Briseis does though). Our heroes have apparently absorbed none of the ideals of the culture they exist in and the author seems to think "they're gay and aren't sexually attracted to their captives" would translate to them being outright benevolent (also as if wartime sexual violence is just about attraction and not part of a wider spectrum of violent acts to dehumanize and brutalize an accepted 'enemy')

In the source text, Briseis mourns Patroclus as being the kindest to her of her captors, who tried to get her a slightly better outcome by getting her married to Achilles (which probably would be the Least Bad of all possible outcomes for a woman in that situation, becoming a legal wife instead of a slave), and wonders what will happen to her now that he's gone. This is a really really sad, horrible, and compelling dynamic which could be fleshed out in very interesting ways but is instead is tossed entirely aside in favor of them being Besties. Like brother and sister.

All of the above pisses me off so much. If you don't want to engage in the icky parts of ancient/bronze age Greece then don't write a retelling of a story taking place in bronze age Greece. I'm not gonna get mad at children's adaptations of Greek myths or silly fun stories loosely based on them for omitting the rape and slavery but it is SO fundamental to the Iliad. If you're not willing to handle it, either fully omit it or better yet set your Iliad inspired yaoi in an invented swords-and-sandals setting where you can have all your heartbreaking tragic doomed lovers plot beats and not have to clumsily write around the women they're brutalizing.

-The author didn't seem to know what to do with Thetis and she made her just like, Achilles bitch mother who spends most of the story trying to separate our Yaoi Boys (iirc her disguising Achilles as a girl and hiding him on Scyros is made to be more about getting him away from Patroclus than trying to save her son from his prophesied doom in the Trojan War) until she sees how much they loooove each other and I think helps Patroclus' spirit get to the afterlife or something in the end?

-This is more of a personal taste gripe but it has that writing style I loathe where the prose feels less like a story and more like an attempt to string together Deep Beautiful Hard Hitting Poetic Lines that will look great as excerpts on booktok (might predate booktok but same vibe). It's all very Pretty and Haunting and Deep but feels devoid of real substance.

I really like The Iliad and The Odyssey in of themselves. They're fascinating historical texts that give a window into how 8th century BC Greeks told their stories, saw their world, interpreted their ancestors, etc. And genuinely I think these texts have 'good' characters, there's a lot of complexity and humanity to it.

WRT the Iliad- all of the main Achaeans are pretty fascinating, the one singular part where Briseis Gets To Talk and laments her situation is great, Achilles fantasizing that all of the Trojans AND the Achaeans die so he and Patroclus alone can have the glory of conquering Troy (wild), Achilles asking to embrace Patroclus' shade and reaching out for him but it's immaterial (and the shade being sucked back underground with a 'squeak' (the squeak kinda gets me it's disturbing and sad)), Hecuba talking about wanting to tear out Achilles' liver and eat it in a (taboo, exceptioally pointed) expression of rage and grief for his mutilation of her son's corpse, just one tiny line where the enslaved women performing ritual wailing for their dead captors are described as using it as an outlet to 'grieve for their own troubles' is heartrending, etc. A lot of grappling with anger and grief and the inevitability of death, a lot of groundwork laid for characters that could be very interesting when expanded upon in the framework of a conventional novel.

And Song Of Achilles really doesn't do much with all that. I know a lot of my gripes here are kind of just "It's different from the Iliad", I would have thought of it as mostly mediocre and forgettable rather than infuriating if it wasn't a retelling (and I DEFINITELY have strong biases here). But I think the ways in which it is different are less just a product of a retelling (of course there's going to be omissions and differences) and more a complete and utter disinterest in vast majority of its own subject matter, to the book's detriment. I think a retelling has a point when it EXPANDS on the source, or provides a NEW ANGLE to the source. This book doesn't Really do either, it just shaves off the complexity of its source material, renders the characters into a really boring archetype of a gay relationship, and gives very little else. Its content boils down to a middling tragic romance that has been inserted into the hollowed out defleshed skeleton of the Iliad.

Bottom line: I definitely would not be as mad about it if I wasn't familiar with the source material but I think it's fair to expect a retelling to Engage with/expand on its source, and I also think it's weak purely on its own merits. This book was set up to disappoint Me specifically.

[makotonaegiunderstander]

something I’ve been thinking abt is how many people think Makoto is immune to despair. I don’t think he is. I think becoming the ultimate Hope was BECAUSE he felt despair. He wouldn’t have fully reached that point without Junko. Makoto becoming such a beacon was his last attempt to avoid completely falling and it wasn’t because he didn’t feel despair, it was because he was too damn stubborn to allow everything to go to waste and he refused to sacrifice his beliefs for someone else’s. His inner monologue tells me he DID experience the same new low the other suvivors did in the final trial, but at the point where he had the choice to give up and die, he looked at the others and he looked at Junko and he couldn’t allow it to happen, not out of self preservation, but because the idea that Junko would have control over their lives made him FURIOUS. and that utter refusal to die kicked in, wether luck or otherwise, and he made the concious effort for one last push while something in him was breaking. He had to be broken in order for the Ultimate Hope to come through so aggressively, bc it could only exist in the face of the Ultimate Despair. He snapped the same way she did, but in the other direction. In what could have been his final moments he chose to embody everything Junko wasn’t, and every single optimistic and luck fueled ideal in him suddenly charged forward and pushed him. It was a combination of the final straw and a choice. Makoto isn’t immune to feeling despair, he’s just too stubborn to fall into it of his own volition. I think that’s why I like that scene in DR3 so much. People were SO SHOCKED Makoto actually fell for the tape, that he actually became despair for a moment. I saw people getting mad or disappointed, saying it was pathetic and Makoto seemed to fall from some sort of pedestal for them. Honestly part of me wonders if that sort of mentality, which clearly people had in universe, affected Makoto a bit. Like he started to see himself as less of a person, subconsciously. Prompting him to take more risks, less self preservation, act way more bold. It seems he has to be reminded a lot not to put himself in danger by his friends, to not do something too reckless. All over the place I would see in regards to that scene either this frivolous ‘oh this was just angst drama with no meaning behind it’ or ‘he can do better than that. he’s so weak’ or ‘come on, there’s no way he’d fall into despair, he’s the Ultimate Hope!’ This kind of mentality, which was kind of ironic considering Ryota was there the entire time saying the same thing and treating Makoto the same way. Like Makoto was superhuman. Like Makoto didn’t feel despair the same way ‘normal people’ did. In a way that was also how Munakata saw Makoto. Makoto stopped being a PERSON to the world when he became Ultimate Hope, he became a concept, a belief system, much the same way Junko ascended beyond herself. But the difference is that treating Makoto that way is the opposite of the reason Makoto became such a representative for hope. He wasn’t doing something no one else could. He was doing something everyone had the chance to, he just… was a little more optimistic, a little more stubborn, a little more ‘gung-ho’ about things. He just took the lead where no one else did, where no one else knew they even COULD in the face of Junko’s unstoppable force. She had overcome the biggest threats and obstacles in the world, what could one person do? And the answer Makoto found was, anything. Everything. It doesn’t all rest on Makoto, he’s just the one that was inspired to try to do what seemed like the impossible. But as evidenced by the change in his friends after that trial, it’s clearly not something only Makoto is capable of. The others pulled out of despair thanks to Makoto, but it was their choice to do so.

“But… this world is so huge, and we’re so small. What can we do…? No, we can probably do anything. Yeah! We can do anything!”

[kendallroygf]

the thing is. yeah kendall feels like his whole life now is worth nothing. the one thing he was always meant to do, since he was seven years old he now cannot do. he will never get to do it. so he might as well die, right? he might as well end it all but the thing is life is never that kind nor generous. so i think kendall will try and fail. and he’ll try again and again but the world will keep its grip on him and eventually he’ll just stop trying. and yeah maybe he’ll never be a whole person (we’re nothing) maybe he’ll take logan’s advice and collect sports cars or write a book or start a new company but either way he’ll be forced to start anew. kendall logan roy died it’s just kendall now. and this outcome in itself is generous in a way because circumstances out of his control have kind of forced him to hold some accountability for his own life finally instead of counting on broken promises his father made him at 7 years old. he’s actually being forced to Be instead of just living up to someone else’s name. and he actually has people around him who still undoubtedly care. he’s sick and horrible and twisted but he is still ultimately lovable. he is still a human being weeping on the dirty ground even though he has spent so long trying not to be. even though he recanted the very thing that made him Real. the world will simply not relinquish its hold on him! tragic but somewhat hopeful in a way

[lemon-mint-writes]

Wounds Opening Lines (and their significance)

In my fic Collateral Damage, there are five different povs that we see throughout. Each time a character gets their first pov, the opening line reveals something significant about their character or their arc.

Quackity - "Quackity watches the sunset alone." The entire fic reinforces the idea that Quackity as a character is severely isolated. He has no one he can truly rely on, only surrounded by coworkers and subordinates with no friends or family around him. This fic starts with Quackity alone, and ends with Quackity alone. The final line we get from him is; "He has a country to run, a million things he should be doing right now, people who are depending on him, but all Quackity can bring himself to do is sit there alone, and weep."

Sapnap - "Sapnap watches the sunset with dread, Karl clutching his hand tightly beside him." Sapnap's opening line is unique, as it is the the only one to mention two people. His opener provides a direct contrast for Quackity, as most of Sapnap's storyline does. Quackity is alone, but Sapnap has Karl (and George) to support him. Sapnap is also watching the sunset with dread, something Quackity doesn't experience because he is the one inflicting pain, while Sapnap is enduring it. Quackity goes on to admire the sunset and talk smugly about his trip to the prison, while Sapnap is unable to enjoy the sunset because of what comes afterwards.

Karl - "Karl has always been obsessed with soulmates." Karl's storyline really revolves around the soulmate aspect of the fic. He's the one who pushes for the soulmate theory, the one who continues to pursue it even after George tells him to stop, and Karl's knowledge and adoration for soulmates is what drives both him and the narrative forward. It's also what makes his arc, at least in my opinion, the saddest. The final line we get from his pov is; "Karl may not be Sapnap’s soulmate, but that doesn’t mean he can’t still try to be worthy of that role, should he have been lucky enough to have it." It reinforces Karl's unwavering devotion to Sapnap, that he still wants to be worthy of being his soulmate even though he gets his heart broken from finding out that the very thing he longed for Sapnap does have, just not with him. I remember I really struggled with trying to sum up everything I wanted to say about Karl's character with his ending, because he doesn't get the luxury of a pov after the climax. He continues to suffer privately, in silence, even to the perspective of the reader. He has no one to witness the full extent of his hurt. If there had been a Karl pov post climax, it would've only been two lines; "Sapnap has two soulmates. And neither of them are Karl."

George - "George remembers the day he found out they were soulmates." The other storyline that revolves mainly around the concept of soulmates is George's, and he serves as the contrast for Karl's storyline. George is also hung up on soulmates, but instead of being obsessed with the concept of it, he's obsessed with his actual soulmates he was once tied to. Part of him is still stuck in the past (something I firmly believe about c!George in canon as well), as indicated by his first line starting with a reference to an important memory involving his soulmates. George is so caught up in what he's lost, of a time he can't go back to, that he ends up making poor decisions for himself and his best friends. He becomes withdrawn, and is reckless with his own safety and his excursions with XD. Like Karl, George goes to great lengths to help Sapnap in ways no one else is privy to, even at the risk of his own safety, and like Karl, he is not rewarded for his sacrifices. But at the end of the fic, George still has Sapnap in a way Karl will never have. He is still, undeniably, Sapnap and Dream's soulmate, even if he can't feel them, and he clings to that. Karl has no such thing to hold onto.

Dream - "Quackity is always punctual." This. This is one of the earlier lines I wrote down, and may just be my favorite line in the whole fic. It's definitely my favorite opening, the one I'm most proud of. Dream's opening line is the only line to not mention the person who's pov we're currently seeing. Quackity is mentioned first, because Quackity controls everything that comes to Dream in this fic. I debated with the idea of drawing this out, to make it so it takes several lines to finally reveal who it is we're reading about, but it interrupted the flow of the scene and didn't make much sense to include. This line is powerful on it's own anyway. Quackity is always on time to torment Dream. Quackity is still exerting control over Dream, even when he's not there. Quackity still has a hold on Dream's story, even at the end of the fic. It comes across cold too, to say Quackity is punctual and not cruel or evil or something else that would imply emotions or humanity. No, Quackity is a businessman, a strategist, an apathetic dealer of Dream's suffering. I love Dream and Quackity's dynamic in canon and I had so much fun playing with their dynamic in this fic.

[savanir]

The What Corps?

“we have you now spook! there is nowhere you can run and hide with our new spectral tethers active!”

Danny winces at the small metal clips that have hooked themselves in his leg, some new GIW tech that is messing with his powers.

“oh yeah? I was just dying for you guys to give me a challenge” plan. plan. He's gotta think of a plan to get out of here and fast. He takes a steadying breath and starts to look for anything that can help him.

he can’t get caught here. He just can't. He simply won’t allow himself.

suddenly the two GIW goons in front of him click their earpieces to clearly listen to what someone else is telling them, Danny is very glad for his own enhanced senses.

“Operatives K and O, be advised, there have been sightings of a new ectoplasmic entity near your location. Other operatives report that it’s incredibly small and moves fast. watch your backs, this may be an ambush”

small and fast? it better not be some poor little blob ghost, Danny sort of hopes it’s some manner of ectowasp, at least that could be entertaining to see.

“you better not be hoping for back up, ecto scum”

“I have no idea what you are talking about”

It's then that a small bright green light zips on scene and weaves through crowds in the distance with ease and then speeds up towards the two operatives who do not hesitate to shoot, missing completely like the storm troopers they are.

Whatever it is, it is indeed going very fast but Danny manages to figure out what it looks like and it appears to be a… ring?

“hold it you tiny accessory shaped ecto fiend!”

The ring does a speedy circle around Operative O while K is lining up a shot and ends up blasting the poor guy point blank in his face, “O!”

Danny takes a step forward with an arm outstretched and a “oh damn! Are you alright?” on his lips when the ring takes the chance to slip on his finger. “Daniel Fenton of Earth”

Danny already had a freakout about a ghost jewelry getting on him, his experiences with those so far have been incredibly bad after all, what with the rings and crowns and pendants… now this damn thing is just straight up outing him! 

Thank the ancients the two GIW stooges are too busy with each other right now to pay close attention to what this weird ring is saying.

“You have the ability to overcome great fear” ah so this is related to him steeling himself just now? Maybe? or something??

You have been chosen” never good, we are back to freaking out again.

“Welcome to the green lantern corps” 

… the what?

Danny notices that his usual outfit suddenly has more green going on, and his DP symbol has some sort of… he guess it’s supposed to be a lantern, maybe? shape around it.

He’s somehow even more glowy now, and there is something on his face. Feeling its shape makes him think it’s some sort of mask.

The metal clip things are no longer attached to his legs though so that’s great!

“You’re not getting away so easily ecto scum! sentient ghost paraphernalia coming to your rescue or no!” They both aim their weapons to take a shot.

Danny figures he can now easily hold them back with his usual shields,“you guys realize you just called this weird ring sentient and thereby negate the whole nonsentie-ack!”

“Attacking a corps lantern is punishable offense as of the instatement of the galactic diplomatic immunity as declared by the-” Okay so now Danny is just raising his eyebrow at this weird as fuck ring. Just what is it going on about?

“notifying nearby lanterns and requesting assistance with apprehension of hostiles”

what?

“getting your friends to help you out vile spook? such a thing is useless with the Blackout still very much in place”

Well… the two streaks of green light in the distance is making Danny doubt that statement.

Maybe there is more to this Lantern corps thing than he thought… And something tells him his life is about to get even more complicated than it already is.