#I’ve betrayed my own left handed representation

[all-lee24]

Can u draw Arya!

Needle practice

[literary-illuminati]

2024 Book Review #24 – When the Angels Left the Old Country by Sacha Lamb

I tossed this on my TBR entirely sight-unseen at the start of the year, entirely on the basis that I was trying to expand my horizons a bit and it showed up on my public library’s ‘staff recs’ page with zero context whatsoever (also just an absolutely lovely title). This was, as it transpires, not a particularly good way to choose a book I’ll particularly enjoy – which is entirely on me, to be clear. It’s a well-executed and often charming story, and if it was a novella I would probably thoroughly enjoyed it. At 400 pages though, I’m just so incredibly and entirely not the target audience.

The story is a historical fantasy set during the tail end of the 19th century, principally about the angel and demon who call a minuscule shtetl in the Pale of Settlement (so small it doesn’t even have a name) home. Neither is a particularly impressive example of the type, and they have largely spent the previous centuries arguing over scripture with each other. After hearing that one of the girls of the schetl who had left for America might be in danger, they take it upon themselves to travel first to Hamburg and then to New York to rescue her. Along the way they make a friend, discover who they really are, and become trade union activists.

So this is shelved by both my library and Goodreads as YA, but it’s feels very much written for the young side of young adult – just generally very much read like a children’s story. A good one! But still – the narrative voice and the portrayal of the world felt like something more suited to 6th -7th graders than 16-17-year olds, I suppose? Though I might be projecting off my own childhood tastes here. There’s even a ten-page glossary of difficult or unusual vocabulary at the back. So all to say that really getting into a critique here based on my own preferences would just be a waste of time for everyone involved.

That said, this is actually one of the first YA books I’ve read that feels like it meets the whole stereotype of YA being written with Providing Good Representation as a key guiding principle throughout the process. Not in any didactic or lecturing way, but the three main characters are a nonbinary angel with a recurring beat of feeling awkward and uncomfortable whenever its dress/presentation/forged papers cause it to be treated as a man, a demon with obviously inhuman feet that make walking in shoes very painful and are a recurring inconvenience, and a teenage lesbian whose whole arc centres around figuring out why she felt so hurt and betrayed when her childhood BFF fell in love with a guy instead of emigrating to America with her and spending their lives together (also all but like 2 characters of any consequence in the entire book are Jewish, as just follows naturally from the whole premise). It all feels written with an eye towards taking prospective readers by the hand and assuring them that their feelings are normal and not something to agonize over. It’s all well-done and fairly graceful – and, like, such things are a large part of what children’s books are for – but was just amusing to finally see an example of the stereotype.

I actually did quite like the narrative voice and general style, though. It had very sort of storybook or folkloric sensibility to it, seemed exceptionally well written for reading out loud to someone before bed. Which fit very well with the very casual don’t-worry-about-it inclusion of the supernatural and its place in the world.

The book was honestly most interesting to me as a window into this whole rich cultural mythology of Ashkenazi emigrants leaving behind the Pale of Settlement and seeking new lives in New York/the USA. A mythology I am aware of but have only the most surface-level actual familiarity with (to whit ‘There are no cats in America’ and not much else). It’s always, I guess fun?, to read someone referencing and playing around with what are clearly stock characters and tropes but which are entirely new to you. The whole book at least felt very well-researched and absolutely drenched in little touches to ground in the specific place, time, and cultural milieu.

So yeah. Competent, well-executed book I really probably shouldn’t have bothered with.

[miscelunaaa]

give yourself a try: epilogue | myg

pairing: yoongi x plus-sized reader

genre: colleagues to lovers, coffee shop au, some angst and fluff, smut

summary: The morning after you and Yoongi confess, one thing leads to another, and the two of you are faced with an important question.

rating: 18+ for explicit content

word count: 3.7k

warnings: Yoongi’s POV. Swearing. Filth with feelings. Soft mornings. Fingering. Unprotected sex in an established (?) relationship. Desecration of a couch. Use of pet name. Daddy kink (sorry? kind of not really). Unorthodox marking. Depiction of stretch marks on a soft body, and maybe some self indulgent wording around that (ope). Cum eating. Oral, female receiving. Lots of mid-coitus conversation about likes and dislikes. Clit biting I guess but it’s very mild, just like a teeny nip. Conversations about defining the relationship.

notes: Oops? My hand slipped??? I didn’t expect to revisit these two so soon, but here we are. I’ve written a lot of smut (most of it’s in an unpubbed wip), but this may be the filthiest yet, personally. Once things started happening I got a bit carried away and well, these two continue to be perfect for each other. I acknowledge that this is not everyone’s cup of tea, and I get that. But I also think I managed to keep this approachable and kept it from becoming too cartoonish. If you’re new around here, none of the following fic is going to make sense unless you’ve read Give Yourself a Try first, so if you haven’t read it, you should! I’m quite proud of it, to be honest. The process, however, was so intense that it’s left me a little burnt out after writing it. Baby steps! In the mean time, thank you for reading :)

notes 2: okay so … I don’t know who needs to hear this, but this story isn’t just for people with soft bodies. No part of Give Yourself a Try is. It’s important to me and many folks to have this representation in a literal way, but it’s also for anyone who’s got stretch marks, it’s for anyone who has days where they struggle with loving their body, etc. I want people to read these stories and these experiences. I want people to see themselves represented, and I think these stories, and stories in general, make us feel less alone. At the very least, that’s what they do for me, and that’s why I write them. Anyway, I’m just kind of talking to air about this shit half the time, so if you’ve made it this far, thank you. So much.

Happy reading!

my masterlist | my disclaimers

part 2 | series masterlist | read on ao3

“So um, bad news.”

“You were gone for a half an hour. How could you have bad news?”

“Well, they know.”

“What do you mean? Who knows what?” Yoongi hands you your coffee as you ask your questions. You’re sitting on your couch, a blanket thrown over your bare legs. There’s a record on. The 1975; your favorite, he’s learned.

“Your staff all know that I slept over.”

“I told you that would happen! I warned you!”

“How was I supposed to know that they really would recognize your clothes? I’ve only seen you wear sweatpants once!” He sits down next to you, pulling the edge of the blanket over his own lap as he settles in.

“I mean, that’s your fault.”

“I like your legs and I like how soft your skin feels. Am I supposed to apologize for stealing your pants?” He brushes his finger tips over your thigh. You bite your lip, your eyes widening just slightly. Fuck, you’re so cute.

“I … no.”

“And you’re the one who got my own pants dirty, so who’s really at fault here?”

He watches as you fight a smile, your lip twisting. Yoongi’s determined to make you break.

“I offered to throw them in the wash,” you mutter through gritted teeth.

“Mmm yeah, but that required you leaving the bed.”

“Couldn’t have that, now, could we?”

“No. No we couldn’t.” He’s stroking your leg now, watching as you shift underneath the blanket. The heat is beginning to come off of you in waves. It’s so cute to watch you try to play it cool, but the slight shake in your hands as you continue to raise your coffee cup to your lips betrays you.

“Babe, are you alright? You feel a bit hot,” he teases. It’s when you meet his gaze that he really begins to feel just how turned on you are by his small touches. Fuck. Are you angry or horny? Is there a difference? Does he care if there’s a difference?

“You’re interrupting my morning coffee. Do you think I’m alright?”

Both. It’s definitely both. Yoongi feels his cock twitch in his pants. All of his blood is rushing from his brain to his pelvis and holy shit, he could not care less. Your anger turns him into an absolute caveman; one million years of evolution down the drain for the sake of sex with you. Only you.

“It’s a cappuccino, babe. It’s not meant to be savored for too long.” He’s letting his hands wander higher and higher up your legs. He savors the way your breath catches in your throat as he brushes his fingers over the elastic edge of your underwear. Teasing you like this is as tortuous for him as it is for you and he loves how it feels.

“I ascribe to the idea that people can enjoy their coffee however they want.”

“You and I both know that’s a lie. I watched your nose wrinkle that one time that one asshole asked for almond milk in his gesha hand-pour.” His hand lets his wander up your body as he begins to press into your side. His hand moves underneath your sweater, exploring your flesh. His thumb brushes against one of your nipples and you suck in a breath.

“That was a private moment,” you breathe. “A lapse in my professionalism. We don’t even have—” Yoongi pinches the peak, and the words stop for a moment, before you shakily resume. “Almond milk. We don’t have almond milk.”

“Mm. I like watching you in your private moments. And you like it too, as we learned last night.” He releases you and begins to rub at your breast greedily as he presses his lips to your neck.

“Was that the second or third time?” He hears a small tap as you set your coffee cup down. It sounds empty.

“I lost track,” he murmurs into your neck between licks and sucks.

“Hey, Yoongi …”

“Yeah?”

“Are you going to fuck me or what?”

“Mm. So needy for me,” he purrs. “You’ve got to ask nicely to get what you want.”

“Ugh, god, yes, fine, I need you, I need you inside me, I needed it five minutes ago. Stop teasing and fuck me.” You take a handful of his shirt and pull him to your face, your lips attaching to his. His cock twitches again as you nip at his lower lip, trying to entice him. Such a nice way to ask, if he’s being honest.

Yoongi shoves his hand past the waistband of your underwear and begins to caress your mound, slipping into your folds to press the pads of his fingers into your clit. You whine into his neck as he starts to move them in circles.

“So swollen already, so wet for me,” he says, his lips brushing against yours.

“What makes you think it’s you?” You gasp. You can claim that it’s not him, just your body reacting as it should, but you both know that something about your connection makes it more intense for both of you.

“I love that you’ve come out of your shell for me, babe. Talking back to me like that,” he says. His fingers are beginning to tease at your entrance, and you respond by starting to move your hips, in hopes of catching his fingers. He can’t help but laugh: “So eager.”

“Yoongi if you don’t put something inside me I’m going to—” Your mouth forms a silent scream as he suddenly thrusts two fingers inside you.

“Mm, what was that, babe?”

“F-fuck you.”

“In a minute, I want to do this first.”

It’s still mind blowing to him how tight you feel around anything he puts inside you. Yoongi can hardly understand it. He knows this train of thought is very literal; any time any part of him is inside you, feeling you squeeze around him, all thoughts go from “fuck you’re so tight” to just “fuck” over and over again. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

You’re writhing against him as he drags his fingers against your front wall. Your moans taste sweet on his lips. He lets the base of his palm start applying pressure to your clit, making your whole body tense up. The extra layer of sensation leaves you breathless. Actions speak louder than words, however, and Yoongi chokes back a groan when he feels your hand brush against his erection.

“S-shit.” He can’t help the twitch of his cock, nor the way his hips tense with the intent to thrust and grind into your palm. It hits him that these are your pants, and not his, and he’s likely leaking pre-cum all over them.

“Not so bold now, are we?” Your voice, fuck, your voice is so high and airy right now. Fuck, you’re so goddamn hot. As he moans into your neck, he feels you clench around his fingers.

Good fucking god.

“Gonna make me ruin your pants just like you make me ruin mine? You like me ruining clothes for you?” It almost hurts to talk. His voice is so utterly low, and he’s so incredibly aroused; he’s surprised the words are even cogent.

“Wouldn’t ruin them if you just took them off.” Your hand trails up to slip down under the waistband. With ease, you wrap your fingers around him and stroke once. You give him a fucked out smile. “Naughty. Not wearing any underwear. Couldn’t wait to fuck me that bad, huh?”

Yoongi can’t take the teasing anymore. He needs to be inside you, to sink into your cunt so quickly that the squeeze almost hurts. He slips off the couch to his knees, and starts pulling at your hips. You take the hint, and in an instant, your knees are on the floor too, your ass presented to him.

He snaps the elastic edging of your underwear against your skin before pulling the gusset to the side. His fingers brush against your folds once more, and you arch your back into the feeling with a whine.

“Don’t tease me, damn it.”

“I’m going to do what I want, babe, and you’re going to fucking take it,” he says darkly, pressing a finger to your clit. Your hips buck at the pressure before you gain control over yourself again. He growls again: “What are you going to do?”

“Take it,” you repeat back, throwing a smoldering, simpering look over your shoulder.

All of this teasing has Yoongi wound up so tight that he’s a afraid he won’t last long once he’s inside you. For a moment, he considers trying to finger you more. It’s when you whine his name that he realizes you want him inside you just as much as he wants it.

“So whiny. You gonna take this cock like a good girl?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

Shit, that was stupid. He’s too lost in the moment. This is uncharted territory. Neither of you have talked about anything more than immediate likes and dislikes.

The words come from your lips just barely above a whisper: “Yes, daddy.”

Yoongi wants to explode. Fuck. He’s ready; he could coat your ass with cum right now with just a few strokes. This is too perfect. You’re too perfect. And you’re all his to spoil.

He pulls away his hand to start shuffling the waistband of the sweats down, letting his cock spring free. When his hands go back to your hips to start pushing your underwear down, you cast a glance over your shoulder.

You look upset.

“What’s wrong, baby girl?”

You swallow and blink, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “Was that weird? Do you want me to call you something else?”

“No, it’s perfect. Whatever you want to call me is perfect,” he murmurs as he caresses the flesh of your thighs, letting your underwear drop the rest of the way as you shift your weight from one knee to the other. “But I really liked it, for what it’s worth. I like that it came out of your mouth.”

This seems to placate you. Your thighs are squeezing together again. You’re squirming underneath his fingers as he grips your flesh, his palms skimming over the delicate, striated skin. He can even hear your breathing, shallow, almost labored, as if you’ve already begun to exert yourself. He palms himself a few times, but he doesn’t really need to. He’s so fucking hard already.

“Daddy’s ready for you, baby girl. You ready to take this cock?” The words come to him with ease, the slight role change effortless to step into.

“Yes, daddy,” you breathe, arching your back a little.

As he presses into you, he watches you keen. You’re so tight like this, the angle and position letting him bury his cock to the hilt. Taking you from behind while you’re calling him daddy … He would have never expected revealing his feelings for you and you doing the same to turn out like this. And he never would have expected to have found such a fitting match in you.

These thoughts fall to the ground like scattered paper, fluttering away as he starts to pound into you.

“Baby girl, your pussy’s so fucking tight for me. Feels so fucking good.” Your moan in response has him gripping you even tighter; he’s worried about leaving finger shaped bruises in your soft flesh. And yet, the thought that you’d carry the reminder of this moment with you for a day or two makes him feel even more aroused. His head swims and he feels himself grow even harder, somehow.

“Fuck, daddy, you feel so good inside me,” you cry, your words shaking in your throat as he rams his body into yours. Each of your moans sends him higher and higher.

Yoongi’s knuckles are beginning to hurt with the force of his grip, but he can’t make himself slow down. The smack of flesh on flesh is addictive, the hard floor beneath his knees forgotten through the haze of hormones pumping through every blood vessel he has.

Fuck, it’s happening so fast. Too fast.

“I’m—fuck—”

He can’t even get the words out before he’s cumming, spilling everything he has left within you. It’s as if the world falls away for a moment, all he can feel is the way your sweat mingles with his and the vague ringing in ears as he tries too find something to anchor himself to.

And that’s when he hears your still-labored breathing, feels your skin beneath his fingertips. The gentle ripples of your stretch marks, the soft delicate skin that grew with you, kept your body safe through its myriad changes. Yoongi opens his eyes. He didn’t realize he’d closed them. He sighs, letting his hand come up from your hip to graze over the dip where your spine lays. You turn your head to gaze at him over your shoulder.

“You didn’t cum,” he says as he pulls out of you. You whimper at the sudden empty feeling.

You bite your lip. “No, but it’s okay. It still felt good.”

Yoongi reaches for the hem of his shirt and takes it off so he can use it to wipe himself, but he pauses before taking it to you. His seed is already beginning to drip out over your folds.

“Flip over.”

“What?”

“I said flip over, Baby girl. Daddy’s not finished with you.”

Your eyes are wide as you do as he’s told, your breath catching as you settle back onto the couch. Yoongi wraps his arms around your thighs and tugs you forward so that your ass rests on the very edge. Your legs fall open naturally, and he eats in the view. You’re still wearing that sweater, and it drapes and twists over the contours of your body gracefully. Your eyes are huge, your surprise palpable. But you don’t try to close your legs as he runs a thumb over your center, feeling how wet you remain.

“Can I taste you?” He asks, meeting your gaze.

“I—are you sure? Won’t it taste like …”

Yoongi shrugs. “So? Doesn’t bother me, and we’re not done until you’ve cum all over me. I don’t care if it’s my face or my fingers or what but if it’s okay, I’ve love it to be my face.”

“Okay, but if you don’t like it—”

“Babe,” he squeezes your thigh with his hand. “Let me make you feel good. If I didn’t want to do something, I wouldn’t offer.”

You let out a soft sigh. “Okay. Eat me out, please. Daddy.” The last word seems tacked on, but the glint in your eye tells him that you’re trying to get back into the moment, just like he is. He can’t help but smile.

Yoongi lets his head fall to take a lick at your exposed cunt, the slip of his own seed beneath his tongue making the act seem somehow lascivious. And then lick after lick, you slowly loosen up beneath him, letting your cries and moans ring through your apartment. Even though you haven’t had an orgasm yet, you’re so sensitive and hot against his mouth.

“Fuck. Oh my god.” You’re shaking after an especially good suck, one where he let his teeth just barely graze over your clit. He lets his hands snake around your legs and up underneath your sweater. He takes your nipples in his fingers and begins to pinch, pulling another sweet moan from your lips.

“So good for daddy, letting him know how good he’s making you feel,” Yoongi purrs into you between swipes with his tongue.

“Daddy, I’m close.” Your hands are in his hair now. So close already, and all for him. He can hardly believe how perfect you are for him. Finally, he begins to fuck you with his tongue, reaching as deep inside you as he can, letting his nose rub against your clit. Your hips are beginning to rut onto his face, your pants and moans erratic. You’re so close, he can feel it. It’s almost intuitive at this point.

“Cum for daddy, baby girl. Cum all over my face.”

It’s like his words cut the string and suddenly your entire body thrums underneath him as the string falls away. You cry out as the high takes you. Yoongi gently nuzzles and licks you through it, before drawing away as you go limp and loose in his arms. Your hands releasing his hair as you let them fall to the side.

“That sounded intense.”

For a moment you’re breathless, and then finally, you nod. “It was.”

“It was really hot though. Give me a couple of minutes and I might be ready to go again.” At this, a weak smile stretches across your face. You reach for him, and he settles in between your legs, his bare chest fitting against your clothed one. This might be his favorite part: basking in the haze of your orgasms together.

“Thank you,” you finally say, your breath making his scalp tickle.

“Of course, baby girl,” he says, pulling away from the hug to give you a kiss. It’s soft, none of the bite of earlier. Just a kiss to show each other that you’re still here, in the moment. “We should get clean and cuddle in bed, though.”

“Mm,” you agree, still looking a little dazed and boneless. He watches as you sit up carefully, taking care not to get anything on the couch. As the moments pass, you start looking a little more alert.

“So um, about calling you daddy …” You look away and bite your lip, fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. “I’m sorry. I should’ve asked you first.”

Yoongi watches your body language as you speak, and he doesn’t like what he sees.

“Babe, you don’t need to apologize. I don’t think it’s weird, and I liked hearing it from you. It made me feel—“ he stops, unsure of how to continue “—like you trust me? It’s hard to describe.”

Your posture is still tense, your mouth getting chewed up from you biting it. You’re looking more and more upset with each passing moment and he hates that he’s not sure what’s wrong.

“I just,” you finally say, with trembling lips. “I just don’t want you to get bored with me. I guess. I’m pretty vanilla. That’s as wild as it gets for me, and well, I’ve blown it already. I’ve given up the secret. There’s nothing else left to keep things interesting.”

Yoongi reaches forward and extricates your hands from your sweater, taking them in his. “Babe, you know I don’t care about just sex, right? You’re more than someone I can fuck. You’re so much more than that.”

“I know. I know that. But—”

There are tears shining in your eyes now as you continue to avoid his gaze. The words are on the tip of your tongue, he can see you trying to say what you’re thinking but something is holding you back. You take a deep breath to steady yourself. You look him in the eye.

“What if it’s not enough?”

Yoongi sits with your words. He lets them settle into his mind, his heart, but you continue before he can respond.

“What if I’m not enough, Yoongi? What if this is as good as it gets? What if I can’t make this stay good like this? What if I—” You stop suddenly, choking up as you get overwhelmed by the thoughts that have to be racing in your head.

“Hey, hey,” Yoongi says, reaching forward to take you into his arms, “Shhh, it’s okay, I’m right here.”

“What if this is as good as it gets? This isn’t enough for us to be able to keep going.”

He can feel his heart beginning to sink, weighed down by your doubts. You’re not wrong. You’re still at the beginning of all of this, and he agrees, sex is not enough to sustain a relationship. For a moment, he lets you cry, soothing you with soft touches as he decides how to phrase what he wants to say.

“You want to know why I kept pining for you after all these months?” he finally asks.

“Really good jeans.”

“I mean, yeah, fine. Those piqued my interest, but that’s not what kept me coming back.”

“Okay? What did?”

“The way you take care of people. The way you make sure you care for your staff and the people who let themselves be vulnerable with you. It’s not just sex for me, babe. It’s you being you as well.”

You sigh into a laugh, wiping tears from your eyes. “Okay, well, I’m just here for your ass, I guess.” The smile you give him tells him you’re being difficult, but you continue before he can protest. “I also like your quiet grace, and the way you make me feel important, and the way you are careful to make sure you explain things in words we can understand. You meet people where they are, and gently try to lift them up.”

For a moment, neither you or Yoongi speak. He’s holding your hand again.

“What are you feeling right now?” he asks, keeping his voice quiet.

“A lot. I’m scared, I think. I’m scared and nervous that we’re doomed before we even really got started. I really like you. More than I realized. I don’t want to fuck this up.”

“I think that’s okay to feel. It’s been a lot. It’s all a lot. I’m feeling it too. Like, what do we do when we go to work tomorrow? What do we do when we live thirty minutes apart? It’s a lot but …” He pauses. He wants to make sure he uses his words well. “I think we work well together so far, and I really want to try this out. I think we can work. I really do.”

“Okay.” You’re tracing the veins on the back of his hand with the tip of your finger. Finally, you look up at him to meet his gaze. “Okay. I trust you. I want this to work too. I want to do this with you.”

Yoongi can’t help but smile. “Okay. Then it’s a plan. We’re doing this.”

“Yeah,” you smile back, “It’s happening. We can do this.”

He squeezes your hand. “Together.”

Thank you for reading! Drop me an ask and tell me what you think. Find me in various places at my carrd :)

©miscelunaaa 2022. My work is only found on this blog and under my ao3 pseud. Do not, under any circumstances, copy or repost my work. Thank you.

posted: 3.19.2022

[thesolferino]

Blood Red

⤷ knight!dream x assassin!fem!reader.

— summary: technoblade hires you to kill sir dream at king george’s ball while he’s off duty; sir dream wants a dance with the peculiar lady wearing a peculiar gown.

A red gown flashes past the sea of white and baby pink ones in a dazzling fashion, one of a Duchess or a Countess, surely not of a simple lady, but it flies by quick, so quick that you simply don’t get to catch the face that matches it. Quick enough that it leaves you stunned, slow enough for a knight’s eagle eye to spot.

The red is dark, darker than the simple scarlet red that the women wore on top of their buns or at the ends of their braids in the form of carefully tied bows. It’s dark, a dark maroon red, walking the line between uncomfortably red and obviously brown finely, careful not to cross each side. It’s an unsettling red, which makes it even more intriguing, especially to a knight - a knight who dances, off-duty, but fails to keep his eyes on the Dame in front of him, and he’s sure it might’ve gotten him in trouble if the porcelain mask hadn’t stayed stapled on his face, shielding his eyes from betraying him.

The red is outstanding, eccentric amongst all the pale, and the knight isn’t the only one who steals a look - the red was noteworthy, among the rest, and wasn’t that what a killer like yourself was made to avoid? Getting seen, getting noticed? Being the center of attention was for the masterminds, after all, not the ones who get their hands dirty; somebody might catch them staining.

It was a bad idea, the ones in charge had said many times before, but you always wore red to the job. They always dumbly ask why, you always repeat the answer. The blood would become invisible, you said. It was as if nothing had happened, at all.

That’s why your maroon flashed amongst the sea of ivory and lavender unapologetically, beautifully shining against the blush pink tiles, matching red heels clacking in obedience with your footsteps, feet moving lightly, gracefully, as if made for such a setting.

And when the song decrescendoed into silence and the violins started moving in a different pattern, the knight callously let go of the Dame’s hand and his feet carried him to where his eyes remained fastened on for hours, pale hand outstretching to your own, finally getting to see your face for the first time in the evening.

The red was too much for a Lady, and that’s why he knew exactly who you were. Maybe not by name, or by age, but profession and motivation were a strong guess. He’d been waiting for this moment - might as well make the most of it.

“May I have this dance, miss?” He spoke, hand still hovering in the air calmly, as she stared dead into the mask, right where she could imagine his eyes were. The stare gave him the answer to an already solved question - your gaze gave away absolutely nothing, and that’s what made him sure of it all. You’re good at your job, he supposes.

Beats of silence pass as couples sway behind you, some more gracefully so than others. You set your hand in his, lightly, carefully, so timidly it almost made him rethink it all. How could such a hand commit such vile things?

“Alright.” You spoke in return, placing your hand behind his shoulder, touch still as soft as before before slipping your other hand in his, not letting your fingers intertwine the way he may have wanted them to. He placed his arm on your back, just below your armpit, beginning to dance and move towards the center of the ballroom.

“From what I’ve observed, you seem to be a good dancer.” He mused, stretching his hand to let you spin, gown flapping around as you did, and he could’ve sworn it might’ve left trails of stardust on the floor everywhere you stepped. You smiled, in a way that screamed at him to escape, but his hand stayed glued to yours, moving further.

“I know a couple of things here and there.”

“How come? Excuse me if I am being intrusive, but I have not seen you at many balls. At least not the ones I attend.” He knew exactly why this specific ball was the one she attended, and the whole conversation inevitably leads to the answer he’s already aware of - he just wants to see how good of a liar you are, though.

“This is my first time here. I’m not a woman of some importance.” You replied, charm beaming off you like rays of light off the sun, and Dream could almost feel his legs tripping after the very hem of your dress. He’s playing with fire, and he knows it, but he just can’t help himself and pour heaps of gasoline. He’s always been like that, and perhaps George hates him for it, but George doesn’t matter anymore - he doesn’t exist as long as he doesn’t look at him. He’s off duty, and if he wants to play with the fire that lights just to burn him, then he shall do exactly that.

“Oh, believe me, you are of utmost importance if I’ve ever seen some.” He says, and you reply with nothing, simply spinning another time under his arm that holds yours firmly. He takes it as an invitation to spark some panic in you.

“Besides, the color of your dress would suggest otherwise. How come a simple lady’s wearing such kitsch cloth?” Dream points out when the two of you move a bit farther back, led by you, and he’s just about impressed at how well you are at suppressing all of this, especially when you let out a perfectly timed, airy chuckle in response, not a single flash of fear or danger in your eyes. It’s the first time that night that he’s actually felt like prey. Techno taught you well, didn’t he?

“I don’t think you’re one to speak on that, Sir Dream.” you respond, eyes flashing from the collar of his basil green suit to the nicely paired olive points of his shoes, back to the hollow eyes of the mask with a mischievous glint in your eye. He exhales a laugh.

“The color is pretty, isn’t it? Aren’t simple ladies allowed to feel like Duchesses every once in a while?” you continue, pulling the two of you mere centimeters closer, enough for any of the passing guests not to spare a single look, and enough for him to notice what you’re doing. He can almost feel a bead of sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. Maybe he’s more scared of death than he thought.

“I don’t think you’re a simple lady.” He professed, following your lead. You were pulling him dangerously close to the south side, where the balcony stood. You were impressingly good at this. “Simple ladies don’t have knives strapped to their thigh.”

He waited for a slip up, and he got none. Not a single hitch in your breathing, a stutter of your tongue - your lips, marked with a red lipstick that suddenly looked a lot like smeared blood even though it wasn’t, simply stretched into another coy smile. You say nothing, simply keep dancing, feet moving in a little bit of a different direction now, as to delay the operation, and he likes to think that’s enough of a slip up.

“Are you scared of death, Sir Dream?” Violins stammer in staccatos behind him, an awful representation of the tension he knows both of you feel, yet not a single other soul in the room can behold. The back of his neck grows warmer, and maybe it’s fondness, maybe lust, or maybe danger and that known feeling of being the prey in this situation, that he taps in with one foot, the other safely yet artificially placed on predator territory, because he refuses to admit he’s no longer the one with the upper hand, and his leg has lifted off predator land long, long ago.

“My death will be nothing more than a false victory to you.” He offers instead of an answer, hips swaying to the music and steals a glance at the rest of the couples dancing. It’s such an airy atmosphere, so calm, casual yet fancy, elegant. Gowns fly around and snake around naked ankles, but none of them are as pretty as yours. Dream refuses to think about the way his blood would look soaking it, and that’s when it clicks. You’re not so dumb, after all.

“I suppose it will, but your murder will be a true one.” you say, and your feet are tapping on the tiles a few feet too close to the balcony. Dream feels crazy, still dancing like this. He feels crazy, and maybe he should ask for help, scream, but he doesn’t. He dances on, dancing until either the stars or you take him.

“Will you feel alive if I take it off? Will he be more satisfied?” His head moves comically, just to bring attention to the mask that feels so unbelievably tight and suffocating, the strings pressing to the back of his head, threatening to snap. He wants them to snap so badly.

“It’s too late for me to feel alive now. I’ve been dead for years, and I’ll stay that way. Whatever you want, though, honey.” Your voice feels more like music than the actual musing of the fuse of piano and strings in his ears, and he still feels crazy. He feels high on something he’s never known. You haven’t killed him yet - maybe you’re high as well.

“I can bring people back to life.” He replies simply, six simple words that are nothing more than conversation fuel, but they hold so much meaning that he can’t miss the glint in your eyes. Your step falters for a second, but the knight’s eagle eye never misses.

“You don’t want me alive, you want yourself alive.” You whisper, heels clacking louder and louder now. Dream is convinced he’s going insane, but his feet move at their own accord, of their own body and soul.

“I want both of us.”

“Only one gets to stay.” You say, and it doesn’t make his blood go cold like he expects it to. It’s sort of depressing to know that his heart accepted his morality so quickly, much quicker than his stubborn brain.

“I don’t think you want me to go, though.” It’s one hell of a ballsy move, but when you press your lips together, he knows he’s done it. Unsure how, but happy he did, nonetheless.

“I’m quite unsure of what I want, I must say. Sir Technoblade does, though.” You spit his name out, and it forces an unwilling laugh out of Dream.

“Be careful, it’s death you’re dancing with.” You say, gaze as fiery as ever, reflecting the blood of your dress and the blinding lights of the chandelier that light your eyes on fire. He returns the gaze just the same.

“May I get one last dance with Death, then, before she makes up her mind?” The knight cheekily smiles, even though you can’t see it, but he’s sure you feel it. Your hand manages to go warmer in his own when you grip it tighter, and he thinks he’s got his answer.

“You know what? Death’s a pretty good dancer, but so are you. She’ll allow it.”

[miraculouscontent]

Asks I got about the “Marinette makes mistakes” tweet:

i-would-rather-be-a-fairy said:

I’m starting to think that the writers don’t particularly like Marinette.

Did Marinette spill coffee on the laps of the writers and they’ve been salty ever since? Because that’s all I can imagine.

Anonymous said:

Is there ANY episode where Marinette doesn't make a mistake and has to learn a lesson? There has to be right?

I feel like there must be? Like, “Silencer” at minimum, but I guess maybe they thought that her trying to combat Roth was her mistake and it got Luka akumatized? It wasn’t portrayed as a mistake though exactly?? (If anything, it just looked like her being awesome, and Luka being akumatized ultimately led to Roth being outed on some level, so it all worked out.)

Even episodes like “Stormy Weather” that really don’t need to be about her mistakes shoehorn in a line about “I should never have left Manon” (if she had, she would’ve been in the ice dome instead of Alya, but okay I guess; dialog choices in this show are so weird).

It really puts episodes into perspective knowing that they have to force Marinette screwing up/learning/apologizing in every episode.

Anonymous said:

Just curious about that Shanghai tweet: were you the one who sent it? I know there are other people who notice Marinette's unfair treatment, but I just wanted to know if you've ever reached out to Thomas Astruc personally.

Nah, that wasn’t me, I don’t use Twitter.

Plus, if that had been me calling Astruc out, I wouldn’t have blurred the name. I’d want full credit.

Anonymous said:

I am so irritated by Thomas Astruc's tweet. Do they even realize they're sacrificing Marinette's character and positive Chinese representation to make her chase after a boy and THEN get blamed for it? Yes, you read that right, a bunch of white men in a room decided that a Chinese heroine doesn't deserve to celebrate or learn more about her culture because she's in love with a white boy(who knows more about her own culture than her) and they need to use her as a punching bag. Ugh. At this point?

I am just completely done with the show. Yes, you heard me. DONE! Because the writers have admitted that their entire show is based around their main protagonist suffering, when it SHOULD be about "girl power". I'm not saying Marinette is NEVER allowed to make mistakes, be clumsy, or learn a lesson, but when the writers will literally REFUSE to let her develop and force her to always be in the wrong against ALL LOGIC, that's where I draw the line. As it stands, I can't recommend this show to any one.

I'm pretty much only watching because I don't like to leave shows unfinished(although there are shows I've simply stopped watching, this is the only one I've seriously been following to this extent since it started), and for the few Lukanette moments/other rare moments of Marinette being happy. Because the writers have NO RESPECT for their main character, have ADMITTED as much, and don't see a problem with it, or why everyone is upset. Oh, and they'll block you if you disagree with them.

I really wish I could’ve been in the writing room the day they said, “Hey, let’s make it so our biracial representation is always the one that screws up and has to learn a lesson/apologize for it!

Anonymous said:

I know comparison is not the best way to say why something is good or bad, but I think "Miraculous Ladybug" is as controversial as it is because "My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic" (a show I watched almost religiously for the first 4 Seasons) did the Lesson Of The Week so much better and came first.

I watched that show for a little over four seasons and I can confirm that the lessons were way more spaced out and balanced (though personally I feel like Dashie got the shaft on most of hers).

Keeping its rules like Miraculous would be like if Twilight was the only one allowed to screw up.

Anonymous said:

Disney's baby tv show "Sofia the First" genuinely deals with the "mc makes mistakes" so well. Initially, the main character is more prone to making mistakes (even if she’s generally well-meaning and kind), but she actually consistently applies her lessons and grows with them. At some point clearly the writers saw that this character’s development is complete; there is nothing more they can do with her because, due to applying her lessons, she is emotionally mature enough to handle anything they throw her way. Then they made a genuinely smart choice to commit latter seasons to having the mc become a literal guardian of the realm who travels to help other people solve their issues by applying the lessons she has already learned.

The show has a big cast of characters and distributes the lessons equally amongst all of them, as well as having many episodes, even in earlier seasons, where the main character actually /is/ in the right, and the lesson acknowledges that. TBH the show’s ability to consistently develop characters in an episodic format, as well as not disrespecting any of them and being written w/ heart, is impressive. Freaking Thomas Astruc wishes.

THAT WAS BASICALLY EXACTLY WHAT I WANTED; MARINETTE LEARNING LESSONS AND THEN BEING A “GUARDIAN” TO HER FRIENDS AND HELPING THEM LEARN TOO.

ugh, and instead it’s just--nope, she always screws up because it’s the rule

Anonymous said:

WAIT WHAT WAS MARINETTE'S MISTAKE IN NEW YORK?? WANTING ADRIEN TO GO??

APPARENTLY???

Or arguing with him mid-battle but can you honestly blame her after he betrayed her trust like that??

Anonymous said:

“It’s the rules of the show she makes a mistake and learns” SIR it’s season FOUR

I think we were meant to read it as, “a season 4 making Marinette screw up again even if she didn’t actually screw up.”

elflynns-horde-of-stuff said:

So the rule of 'Marinette must always make a mistake and learn something' inspired a little rant. I hope you're okay with this! Because it's usually a good thing for tv shows to have a rulebook for their stories, but they have to be GOOD rules. And this (awful) rule is easily fixed! Which makes it even more frustrating to me!

First. Replace 'Marinette' with 'A character' that way multiple characters get focus and development throughout the series. (At least the would if status quo wasn't God.)

Second. Why does all if Marinette's mistakes have to be huge? Why can't she use the wrong fabric for a design, research, and correct it? Or pronounce a Chinese word wrong and learn more about the language? Or use the wrong ingredient for Guardian related magic? If she has to be learning something every episode, why not allow her to develop skills and hobbies? Why make her miserable, anxious and guilty all the time? What purpose does it serve?

It is moments like this, where I am reminded how much potential this show has in better hands. Marinette deserves so much better it breaks my heart!

It breaks my heart too and I agree!

I dunno, the rule is so restrictive. It’s not that all restrictions are bad but this one specifically is crippling.

[randomingoftherandomness]

What I am hoping for from Winner is King ( 烽火流金)

Okay, so at this point, let’s just be reals here, Word of Honor has kinda set the bar for me in terms of standards to expect from the slew of danmei adaptations this year. Granted, I know that there are some who think the way it was adapted was not up to their standards and that it could have been done better, please don’t bring it on this post because this is not the post for it.

In this post, I’m going to talk about  Winner is King (*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑

Now, Sha Po Lang, the original novel, is for me one of the best things that I have read in a very long while. As such, I can be rather precious about what I am hoping to see come alive on the show and what I am hoping will be present in the portrayals I see. I know there are some concerns regarding the script and behind the scenes stuff - and they are very valid concerns that I feel too! - and with the recent announcement that instead of 45 episodes, we are only getting 40, I can foresee that there could be some rushed handlings of the very plotty nature of the source material and perhaps a sense that style can trump substance.

But as the actual show isn’t beaming right into our eyeballs just yet, here are some things I am looking forward to seeing in Winner is King and some things that I am crossing my fingers will make the final cut! 

Warning for some novel spoilers ahead. I’ll keep it under the read more.

Tagging @zhongwans because I said I would haha...

Things I am looking forward to:

The Changgu dynamic. I think it goes without saying that if the chemistry between your leads is a dud, the show doesn’t need to even pass Go, it can just shuffle itself off the board because it will be dead in the water. The Changgu dynamic has to be nailed; I need to see that self-doubt, that caring for the other but coming at it from the wrong way, that awkwardness that comes with trying to hold back the burden of your love and care because you don’t want to overwhelm the other... 

I need Gu Yun to be shamelessly sweet with his words and his coaxing of his Yan Wang from a sulk. I need Changgu saying “I hate you to death, Gu Yun” (pining)

Hu Ge Er. Let me just be clear here, I will cheer when she dies, but I hope that how they handle her characterisation will do her justice. There is no excusing the level of horrible that she is, but I hope that she isn’t written as a single dimension abusive piece of shit. Nuance, is what I am looking for. I need her to be the villain and the reason for Chang Geng.

I. NEED. THE. WOLF. ATTACK. SCENE. OUTSIDE. OF. YANHUI. TOWN. aka The First Time They Meet

There is legit no excuse for them to fuck this up, but the Steampunk elements. I would not know what else to say if they fuck this one thing up that is so integral and basic to the love of this IP. They cannot fuck this up. I am very sure I will join people in rioting if they do.

I need to see my Red Kites, my Heavy and Light Armours, my Dragons... I need to see the steam powered lamps, the iron puppets... I need them to get the Wind Slashers right. I need them to get this world-building right ok? I need to be dropped into this show and just swoon over just how accurate to imagination everything looks. Tencent does have the blessed ability to make very good looking productions, so on this note, I am assured. 

I need them to get the human element right; I need to understand why Gu Yun is the way he is, I need to know why the members of the Lin Yuan Pavillion will back Chang Geng and why they won’t. I need to know why Liao Chi would betray the Emperor. I need them to make me feel; I want them to make my heart hurt when Chang Geng’s heart is hurting, I want them to make me cry when Gu Yun is at his lowest and feels like he can’t go on. I want them to make me laugh, I want to feel for Shen Yi and Miss Chen’s awkward courting. 

On that note, I hope they get the Shen Yi and Gu Yun dynamic right too! These two are bros ok? Life and death, ride or die, best bros forever and I need, need them to nail just how integral these are to each other and how much they chose each other as family. I need the bickering, I need the protectiveness, I need the banter. 

I also need Chang Geng conspiring to marry Shen Yi off quickly so that he can have Gu Yun all to himself lol but lbr here if we can get an ending for this show from Tencent that even breathes the same atmosphere of air as satisfactory I will praise the heavens

The Bone of Impurity. I don’t know to what extent they will cover this or if they would do it the way the book does it, but this being an element that is integral to Chang Geng, I would be surprised if they dropped it entirely. So yeah, I am looking forward to seeing Chang Geng fretting and worrying and getting Bone of Impurity attacks.

Just the way that Gu Yun allows himself to be cared for my Chang Geng and how Chang Geng lets Gu Yun care for him

I want one acupuncture hedgehog scene please and thank you

I do want to see how they handle Chang Geng and his elder half-brother; how that dynamic unfolds will be something to pay some attention to, I think

Oh! That moment when Chang Geng kneels down in front of his brother and tells him to please bury any talk of his marriage and revealing to his brother the scars that he carries from his time living under Hu Ge Er’s roof (this is one brand of Whump that I promise you will hurt you very badly and it will be very good)

The argument at Jiangnan is something I really think will also make the final cut. It wouldn’t make sense to drop it seeing as this is a pivotal shift in their relationship where Chang Geng is finally holding his ground and not bending over backwards and believing everything his Yi Fu says. And this was the catalyst for their four year separation so yeah. I hope they do this justice.

I am not a betting person, but I high key bet that the scene between Gu Yun and the previous Emperor where he tells the man, “If you go, then I won’t have anyone left” and this being the moment that softens the dying fucker’s heart enough to give him a bracelet of beads that will be a major plot point towards the end

THE. BATTLE. SCENES.

Things I am hoping will happen:

At this point, speculation is that the point that tripped Winner Is King up for a recheck was the politics. This year is the 100th anniversary of the founding of the Communist Party in China and rumour has it that shit be sieving thick and so a lot of shows are erring on the side of caution. 

Politics is the highest likelihood of a recheck but I am hoping that it won’t be dumbed down or watered down too much because the politics and the way things played out in the book was absolutely divine and I really want to see that court intrigue and scheming and interplay unfold.

I’ve mentioned in my most recent podcast episode that I am banking on this show to scratch my itch for a Nirvana in Fire level of plottiness and infinite craftiness of the characters and I am crossing all fingers and toes for that to happen because All! The! Characters! Hold! Their! Own! And I need to see that play out please I am not asking for much...

The final sea battle with the Pope. I wouldn’t even know where they would even begin to shoot that scene but this is something I would love to see happen.

The Bone of Impurity attack after Gu Yun sneakily left the capital. That was the scene that caught me and hooked, lined and sinkered me for Chang Geng as a character. Listening to this scene be brought to life in the audio drama has really hammered it home that if they make this bit into the show, I will watch and weep if it is done right. 

Cao Niangzi being Cao Niangzi. I am thinking it might not happen the way I want, but I just need them to get them right.

Ge Chen peeing on the enemy’s face. Please. I laughed so hard. I need this. It will be a balm to my soul.

Please, I need Gu Yun’s soul crushing flute playing like I need Gong Jun to always be absolutely horrible at singing because baby this is your niche and this is your charm own it work it

I also need Gu Yun stealing a bamboo flute from a 10 year old because he got jealous please and thank you

Any flashback of Chang Geng and Hu Ge Er before Yanhui Town

I want to see that moment that Gu Yun hears first hand from someone who had knowledge of what Hu Ge Er would do to a baby Chang Geng and the horrible abuse she inflicted on him, because up to that point, he only knew that something went on, but never to the extent that revelation wrought unto him

Any of the Bone of Impurity moments; any mention of it, any visual representation of it... Gosh, just the idea of having the Bone of Impurity made visual is just... Ugh. Yes. Please. The suffering.

[bonus] Things I wish will happen but will probably not:

The hot spring scene or a version of it

An implication that baby cannibalism was involved in the making of a Bone of Impurity

The scene where they get to the goddess doll (the description of it in the book was so bone chilling and if they do this I will have nightmares, I’m just warning you)

I really, really want a scene where, after being crowned Emperor, Chang Geng goes to the frontlines to reclaim the South and upon hearing that he was there, Gu Yun immediately panicked like he was about to be caught with his pants down doing something illegal when all he did was ordered his subordinates to keep news of his injuries from being reported back to the capital

Any flashback of Chang Geng and Hu Ge Er before Yanhui Town; especially when they were with the Barbarians

I want to see some version of Hu Ge Er realising what she has done to her own child and to Chang Geng

Okay this got super long but what are you guys looking forward to seeing when Winner is King hits our screens? I’m looking forward to creating content for this fandom when it hits ೕ(˃̵ᴗ˂̵ ๑) In the meantime, sound off on what you’re expecting and what you’re maybe wary about!

[sheeboid]

!LOKI SPOILERS!

Okay so, I’ve been trying to figure out why Loki’s development seemed so weird to me in the show because episode 1+2+3 seemed fine to me then episode 4 went weird. I did a summary of all the episodes from Loki’s perspective to find out what went wrong.

I’ve genuinely been going fucking insane trying to figure this out, but I think I got it.

Episode 1:

· Loki gets taken by the TVA.

· He doesn’t believe in it, so he doesn’t take it seriously.

· He gets interviewed by Mobius where he finds out that he killed his own mother.

· He escaped from Mobius then tries to escape from the TVA where he realizes there is no way out.

· He watches the whole tape about his life and self-reflects.

· He tells Mobius that the only reason he kills is because it’s a tactic used by the weak to install fear into people.

· He decides to help the TVA in finding the other Loki variant.

Okay, so far so good, we learn some things about him, and the development is steady.

Episode 2:

· Loki comes to terms with the fact that there is no way out and comes up with a plan, he’s going to overthrow the TVA.

· He starts helping Mobius and stays consistent with being the god of mischief – joking around, lying, messing with people, etc.

· Loki wants an audience with the timekeepers.

· Loki and Mobius find out the other Loki is hiding in apocalypses.

· Loki and Mobius begin to form a friendship.

· Loki betrays Mobius after he meets the other Loki. (This goes back to when Mobius was concerned that Loki would backstab him).

We’re also doing well here, we’re still with 2012 Loki, he’s changed a bit but it’s good because it’s consistent.

Episode 3:

· Loki meets the other Loki and they start to interact after Loki accidentally takes them to Lamentis-1 where the other Loki reveals that she wants to be addressed as Sylvie.

· They hate each other because ultimately what lies behind narcissism is self-loathing.

· They start to bond on a train that they want to hijack.

· We find out: Sylvie knew she was adopted, Loki’s bisexual (woohoo!) and they both have developed their powers in different ways.

· Loki gets drunk leading them to fail in hijacking the train and getting kicked off it.

· We find out all the TVA workers are variants and Loki has a visible look of concern on his face.

· They plan to get back on the train but right before they can, it gets destroyed and they’re left on a planet that’s about to get destroyed.

The development is also good and steady here but to be honest, I find it hard to believe that Loki would get drunk during a very important mission because he’s a very smart person but you could rebuttal this with the fact that even though they could use the TemPad to go back to the TVA and finish what Sylvie had started, there was no way they could go back to the sacred timeline and Loki knew this so he didn’t really care.

Episode 4:

· Loki and Sylvie accept their doom and Loki says that Lokis don’t die, they survive.

· Loki expresses his admiration towards Sylvie with how she single-handedly managed to almost take down the TVA, saying that she’s amazing.

· They hold hands and their bond causes a nexus event unlike any other, so the TVA finds them and takes them.

· Loki’s ego was hurt by the fact that he didn’t have as many security guards handling him as Sylvie.

· Loki tells Mobius that he betrayed him, Mobius point out the fact that he was betrayed by Loki and Loki tells him to grow up.

· Loki tries to tell Mobius that the TVA is lying to him, but Mobius doesn’t believe him because he’s studied him the entire time he was working at the TVA and thinks he’s lying.

· Loki gets put in a time loop with Sif where in the end, he confesses that he just craves attention because he’s afraid of being alone.

· After his confession to Sif, Mobius takes him back and talks to him about Sylvie.

· Loki lies and says he and Sylvie have been working with each other since the beginning, but Mobius knows he’s lying so he also lies and says that they pruned Sylvie.

· Loki is visibly upset since he just started to form a bond with her, but he acts like he doesn’t care.

· Mobius calls out Loki on his act and tells him that he likes Sylvie, calling their relationship sick and twisted while Loki denies they even had a relationship, to begin with.

· Loki tries to explain to Mobius that he is a variant just like him, but Mobius doesn’t believe him.

· Loki gets put back into the time loop.

· Mobius comes back to Loki after a while when he realizes what Loki was saying could be true.

· He talks to him, and they decide to try and find a solution to escape and Mobius calls Loki his friend.

· Before Loki and Mobius could even start with a plan, Ravonna stops them because she found out Mobius had stolen her TemPad. So, she prunes Mobius and Loki cries.

· Ravonna takes Loki and Sylvie to the timekeepers where they were supposed to get killed in front of them, but Hunter b-15 saves them, and Sylvie ends up beheading one of the timekeepers only to find out they’re actually robots. (The nightmare never ends).

· Loki goes to Sylvie to give her some reassuring words. He’s about to make a speech that starts with “This is new to me” while his hands are placed on her shoulders but before he can continue, Ravonna prunes him.

Okay so, as you can tell a lot more things happen to Loki in this episode than the other three episodes which to me means that they shoved in a shit load of character development into one episode. I don’t know how to explain it, but something changed with Loki this episode, he didn’t feel the same.

But I’m willing to understand the development they were doing so let’s start with Loki and Sylvie’s nexus event (these are all just my opinions):

I think Loki at this moment started to realize the vast range of his capabilities through Sylvie. Even though the entire day he was annoyed by her and the fact that she kept trying to fight him, he thought he was about to die so he wanted to patch things up with the only person there. By seeing how powerful she is, he’s realized that he could also be that powerful and learned to love himself more.

Personally, I’ve never liked the trope of learning to love yourself through someone else, so I didn’t really like this.

Next, the scene with him and Sif:

Through confessing that he seeks attention and that he’s afraid of being alone, I came to the conclusion that this was something he knew for a very long time, but he was in denial about it. And after being punched and kicked around and told that he will always be alone by Sif, I think he came to terms with it.

Mobius getting pruned and Loki crying:

I remember watching this with my sister and she didn’t understand why Loki was crying but I think the reason why he cried was that Mobius had just established that he and Loki are friends and as much as Loki tries to put up a cold exterior, he gets attached to people easily because he’s never had someone be there for him, so having someone call him their friend made him happy that he finally found one and then his only friend that he had just made being taken away from him made him cry.

Also when you think about it, he's going through so many emotions right now because of this whole day and emotional distress can lead to people crying because they don't know what to do.

Loki’s speech before getting pruned:

I don’t think that this was going to be a love confession, I think what he was going to say was that they don’t deserve to be alone, because after Mobius asked him “Do you really think that you deserve to be alone?” (Or something like that) he realized that he doesn’t and nor does Sylvie and this was a new feeling to him.

Episode 5:

· Loki wakes up in the void where kid Loki, old Loki, boastful Loki and crocodile Loki are all staring at him, and they help him get away from a monster called Alioth.

· Loki is confused understandably and tries to ask them questions, but they ignore him.

· We find out that kid Loki’s nexus even was that he killed Thor which Loki is hurt by this.

· They lead him to a bunker where they start talking.

· Old Loki tells that his nexus event was that he created an illusion of himself getting killed by Thanos and after that, he decided to hide on a planet. As soon as he tried to go back, the TVA took him.

· Loki proposes that they get out of the void by killing Alioth and the other variants laugh at him.

· Loki is upset by this, so he tries to leave the bunker and calls them monsters on the way up the ladder.

· Before he can leave, he gets stopped by Daddy President Loki.

· He tries to overthrow the king (kid Loki) with his team of Loki variants, but they all betray him because they’re Lokis.

· Old Loki is frustrated and leads kid Loki, crocodile Loki and our Loki out of the bunker through a portal.

· Old Loki says that Loki’s will never change, and they’re all obsessed with fulfilling their glorious purpose.

· They decide to help Loki in killing Alioth.

· Loki reunites with Sylvie and Mobius and Sylvie tells him she’s going to enchant Alioth.

· Sylvie calls Loki her friends as they share a blanket.

· Mobius decides to go back to the TVA and he hugs Loki before leaving through the portal.

· Sylvie and Loki go to enchant Alioth and Loki realizes he’s stronger than he thinks he is through old Loki and Sylvie helps him realize that he can enchant things.

· They enchant Alioth and it’s revealed that he was guarding a castle.

After episode four, I really liked this episode, I thought it was the most fun because we got to see Lokis interact with each other. I think they showed how much Loki has developed by showing the other Lokis, specifically President Loki because he was basically the perfect representation of a 2012 Loki.

I think Loki is still hung up on what happened on Lamentis and therefore can’t let go of his feelings towards Sylvie and unfortunately for Sylki shippers, I don’t think Loki and Sylvie are going to end up together because Sylvie very clearly just sees him as her friend and what happened on Lamentis was basically Sylvie being like “Let me just enjoy my last moment alive” so she bonded with Loki but when the TVA came to capture them, she realized that she still has a shot at taking the TVA down.

Episode 6:

· Sylvie and Loki meet Kang (He who remains) who is the ruler of the sacred timeline.

· He explains to them that he planned all of the steps they took to find him and that basically they have two choices, either they kill him, causing a multiversal war or they take his place in ruling the sacred timeline.

· Sylvie is still on her revenge plot so she thinks Kang is lying and she wants to kill him, but Loki stops her and tells her that Kang could be telling the truth.

· Sylvie concludes that this was all a part of Loki’s plan to take the throne.

· Loki is hurt by the fact that she would think that of him, saying that he can’t be trusted and that she will never be able to trust.

· Loki tells her that he doesn’t want to hurt her and that he just wants her to be okay.

· Sylvie kisses him as a distraction and pushes him through a portal that takes him back to the TVA and closes it before he can come back to her.

· Loki is broken and is crying.

· He tries to find Mobius but Mobius has no idea who Loki is because Sylvie killed Kang and this is a different timeline.

Now, I do think that the development is consistent here because Loki has changed due to the people around him. He thought that Sylvie would trust him because he changed but Sylvie would probably not care at all for any change he’s experienced because since she was a little girl all she’s wanted to do is take down the TVA.

Loki’s had an attachment to Sylvie since Lamentis and he thought she would have the same feelings towards him when she ultimately doesn’t. She has been her number one priority since the beginning of the TVA capturing her (Love that). She’s not going to let some guy take this opportunity away from her.

Loki’s crying because he thought he had found another friend, but he was betrayed and used.

He put himself out there for the first time, but it was a mistake because she took advantage of that.

THE MARVEL WRITERS CANNOT GIVE HIM A FUCKING BREAK.

Conclusion:

I love Sylvie because she’s an independent woman who’s not going to put a man’s opinion before hers.

I love Loki because he’s an adorable little puppy.

Overall, the show was alright. I think it explored some poor writing choices with Loki finding self-love through another person and the kiss that lead to betrayal.

The biggest problem was episode 4 for me because they threw in a shit ton of development, and it confused me.

final words,

i need some tea and a fucking life rn tbh.

[coeurdastronaute]

Either/Or: Hands 2

Previously on Hands

The sun wasn’t a fair representation of the absolute drudgery of the entire day and the feelings that hung heavy in the hospital suite. Spring didn’t care about the bitterness that festered and stewed despite all the best intentions, and so it shone brightly and left streaks of yellow across the bed and floor, warming the sterile hospital bed. 

None of that mattered until a certain doctor breezed into the room and threw open the curtains, not letting the beauty go wasted. 

Lena didn’t move when the lights flooded her room. She didn’t blink or look up, but rather stared at her hands as they laid on the pillow in her lap. The scars were starting to heal, the faint red lines becoming pink, the hardware being removed. Sometimes she was afraid to move them, not because they hurt, but because it didn’t feel the same as it did before. 

“I’m glad you’re up. You get so grumpy when I wake you.” 

Only then did Lena look at the stranger in the room and roll her eyes. 

“I’m not grumpy.”

“You are frequently grumpy.” 

The stare that she gave didn’t really support her position that she wasn’t grumpy, but rather expressed a resigned kind of deference, wherein she knew that her grumpiness would be coddled and tolerated and eventually lightened by the girl who came in with the sunshine behind her. 

“I have a lot to be grumpy about, if I actually was grumpy.” 

“Why? You still have your hands, you’re not terrible to look at, you’re a reasonably good conversationalist--”

“And I can’t even play Twinkle Twinkle,” Lena interrupted. 

“Yet. I will say,” Kara nodded, as she pulled up the stool and sat beside Lena’s bed, “that you are insanely bad at patience.”

“Give me a time then. You won’t give me a goal.” 

“I had to see the progress and healing, wait for the hardware to come up, factor in any subsequent surgeries.” 

“But I’m all done with that and being discharged today.” 

“Yes, you are,” she nodded and pushed up her glasses. 

Gingerly, Kara cleared her throat and reached forward to take Lena’s hand as she was now growingly increasingly good at doing without blushing. She blushed often when she was in a certain Luthor’s suite, and even more so when she touched her. 

Lena watched her face with interest, something she was known to do frequently, unable to stop herself. She didn’t want to. Desperately, Lena wanted to sulk and let bitterness eat her alive and to hate life, which was made exceedingly difficult by a girl like Kara. 

So instead of watching Kara’s intense eyes, Lena looked down at her hand because it was a safe place, even with Kara’s hands on her own. 

To and fro, up and down, pushing against tightness and waiting to gauge Lena’s reaction, Kara went about her work professionally. She didn’t betray anything as she did the usual tests, which was unbelievably frustrating to the patient who thought herself getting used to the small tells of her brow or lip or eye. 

“How does it feel?” Kara asked, still not looking up.

“Better. Hurts sometimes.” 

“You’ve been doing the exercises and stretches I told you about?” 

“I have been. All day. But I’m careful.” 

Kara nodded and smiled to herself before setting down the hands in her own and taking a deep breath. She met Lena’s eyes and cocked her head to the side. It felt like an eternity and Lena waited eagerly. 

“Two months until you’re doing scales. Six months until you’re getting very frustrated by your body not doing what you want it to do, and getting mad that I can’t make it work quicker.” 

“I am going to have to learn to play all over again.” 

“No, that skill doesn’t just disappear.” 

“It does.” 

“I don’t believe it, but if you do, do you think you can get it back?”

“I hope so.” 

“You have to do more than that. Are you in this with me, Lena? Even if you end up hating me, even if you think you’re never going to get back, you have to believe you’re going to be the girl that blew me away when I watched you play on old videos.” 

She didn’t think there’d be a hesitation, but something about the earnestness in Kara’s eyes made Lena really think over how much she meant the words and how tough the journey might be. When her voice failed her, she just nodded, slow and steady at first before quickly picking up the pace when the determination, and what some might call stubbornness, peaked its head. Kara grinned and nodded as well. 

“I’m in it too,” she promised. “Whatever you need.” 

“I’m going to put up a fight.” 

Kara snorted a laugh and sat up, pushing away from the patient. 

“I wouldn’t expect anything less, Ms. Luthor.” 

“Ugh, don’t call me that.” 

“Call you your name?” 

“Yes. You know I hate that.” 

“I’ll refrain as best I can.” 

“It’ll be easier when I’m not a patient.”

“You’ll be my patient for at least six months, didn’t you hear my timeline?” 

With her back turned to the hospital bed, Kara jotted down a few notes while Lena stared at her shoulders and debated what it would mean to leave. She wasn’t sure, suddenly, what it would mean to be without the sunshine in her life. 

“You’re going see it through with me?” 

“I plan on being front row of your next big concert. Complimentary tickets and all.” 

“I can arrange that.” 

Lena soaked in the smile as Kara made her way toward the door. 

“I’ll see you before you leave, okay? Behave.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

XXXXXXXXXX

Halfway through her day and Kara had too much to get done, just like every other day. A neverending barrage of patients and follow ups kept her bouncing around, keeping it together as best she could, but by lunchtime, it was already a long day she couldn’t wait to escape. 

She didn’t want to think about the fact that her favorite patient was leaving. That wasn’t something that felt real because she couldn’t remember a time before Lena. It didn’t seem right. So Kara avoided that wing and she didn’t have lunch with Lena like she normally did. In fact, she kept checking her watch during sessions, afraid of what the end of the day might mean. 

When she got the call to see the head of the department, she genuinely had no idea what it meant, but she wasn’t eager to do it. 

“You wanted to see me, Cat?” Kara asked quietly as she tapped on her bosses door before being ushered in. 

“How is it going with the Luthor?” 

“To be expected, honestly. She’s coming along well enough.”

“The Luthors have requested your services, so I’ve split your cases to the department, and your focus will be on the youngest and her recovery.” 

“I have patients though. People I’ve worked with--”

“And you’ll continue to work with them, but I need you focused on her recovery.” 

“I am, but I have--” Kara furrowed and shook her head. 

“This isn’t a request, Kara. This is what your schedule is going to be geared toward over the next few months.” 

While she wanted to open her mouth and argue, and while she wanted to get more specifics, the look on her bosses face was disinterested enough for Kara to know that the conversation was over. 

“Thank you. Please shut the door on your way out.” 

As soon as the door clicked, Kara furrowed, even more confused about the rest of her day and aware that she didn’t have to parse those feelings about the youngest Luthor just yet, because even though she thought she’d see her often enough in physical therapy, it seemed like now it was going to be more often. 

XXXXXXXXXX

With vaguely the same level of apprehension as she felt the very first day she read the folder that had Lena Luthor’s name on it, Kara found herself awkwardly shifting between her feet and re-reading the piece of paper with the address and passcode for the fancy high rise downtown, still unsure of how she got herself into this situation. Surely there were world-renowned doctors and specialists that money could have bought that would have done the same thing she was about to do. 

The nerves didn’t leave her as she got onto the elevator she was directed toward, nor when she punched in the number and code for the penthouse but for just a moment, when all was quiet and she was somewhere halfway up the tall building, she took a deep breath. 

The door opened to a well-lit space, open and inviting, and oddly almost exactly what Kara would picture for Lena, if she allowed herself to think about her. But she didn’t want to think about her friend that way, or rather, her patient. 

From the quiet, a noise came, the soft twinkling of some piano keys, not particularly a song, but just a few key strokes, the same sound methodically before it changed to another. There wasn’t a melody, but Kara followed it anyway, moving through the open area toward a room bathed in sunlight. She passed a tall wall filled with shelves of books, with vines of green plants dripping down the sides. Plants covered almost everything, greenery seeping into the rather minimalist decor. 

So naturally, Lena sat at the piano bench, the large grand, as if she was part of it, as if it was her natural habitat. Fingers ran along the keys. 

“You’re jumping ahead a bit in my rebah schedule.” 

“I don’t think I can go a day without touching the piano,” Lena smiled as she turned her head to greet the visitor. “Even if this is all I can do.” 

“We’ll get you there.” 

“I sure hope so.” 

“Well, your family has effectively booked me to be your personal trainer for the next foreseeable future, so I’m all yours, Ms. Luthor.” 

Lena just smiled and rested her hands on the keys, nodding to herself. Shyly, Kara sat beside her and looked down, afraid to touch such an expensive and important machine. But she moved her hands and began to play the notes, not making any sense, just making noise. And Lena followed, trying her best to add some sort of rhythm to the cacophony. All Kara was doing was echoing what she imagined a piano player would do, and as she stretched her hands, she focused on the movements, and realized just was was asked of the tendons and muscles. She was lost to the sound and picked up only on the movements, flexing and testing and knowing full well that things were even harder than she imagined. 

Though she stopped all of a sudden, Lena followed Kara’s lead and took a deep breath, laughing as she finished the song. 

“That was fun. You’re a natural.” 

“You’re being too kind.” 

“No no,” Lena laughed. “All you need is about 17 years of training.” 

“I wasn’t meant to do this. You were though.” 

“How can you tell?” 

“You made chaos sound beautiful,” Kara explained. “That’s a gift.” 

“I don’t believe in gifts, just practice.” 

“You should. You have at least one.” 

Normally, she’d fight it, but Kara was smiling and honest and sitting right there so that there shoulders were touching, and Lena found herself blushing at the idea of someone admiring her ability, so she just nodded. 

“I’m sorry my parents did what they always do.” 

“I can’t say I’d do anything different,” Kara shrugged. “If I had the money, I’d never stop demanding the best for my family.” 

“I find it hard to believe you’d behave that way.” 

That earned a snort.

“Maybe. But I’d want the best. I get it.” 

“They’re overwhelming and overbearing, but they mean well.” 

“I’m just honored they deemed me worthy of pulling strings.” 

“You’re the only one I might listen to,” Lena informed her, shifting and walking away from the bench. “I have problems with authority. My father says it’s because I’m smarter than most in the room. I don’t think it’s that, just a very long stretch of my teenage years being obsessed with British punk.” 

“Really?” 

“Did you think I only listened to Mozart and Bach?”

“Kind of.” 

“Sorry to burst your bubble.” 

“Are you ready to get started?” 

“Do we have to?” 

“We should. I want to hear you play, and I’m not going to stop until I do.” 

The renewed burst of purpose made Lena feel empowered enough to agree, and despite herself, she thanked her parents for knowing exactly what she needed.

[cy-fi-theansweris42]

Auto Berserk Rambling Pt.1

Alright what I’m rambling about today is the Transformers G1 episode Auto Berserk, aka the episode that introduced me to Red Alert and got me absolutely hooked on his character! This rambling will include me talking about little details, my thoughts on the episode and what happens during it, and, as always, pictures!!! Fair warning, this is a very long post so I’m putting a Read More line on it so you guys don’t have to scroll through this all (also a 2 parter because it’s too long for a single post, lol). Now let’s begin!

First off…Soundwave. My dude. My cassetticon-carrying man.The Decepticon logo on the front gives away your disguise.

.

Like I have no idea how this fooled anyone but go off, I guess.

Dude looks so shook after going to grab a tape recorder that wasn’t even his and it turned into a giant robot in front of his eyes, like this is what you get for trying to claim some random tape recorder as your own, no mixtapes for you.

Moving on.

Red Alert that is one serious light show you’ve got going on. Now we know those are sensors for him (he mentions it in Blaster Blues before getting shot at by the Decepticons I’m pretty sure) and I remember reading somewhere that he has enhanced sensors (I know for sure in MTMTE he has enhanced hearing, I don’t entirely know about his other senses though), and I like the idea that the little sensory horns he’s got spark when either an alarm is being tripped or he’s detecting danger of some kind, or when he’s dealing with sensory overload. Here it would be the first for sure since Soundwave’s just hanging out.

Alright, oh boy, we’re about to get into part of what causes the main conflict of the episode.

Inferno leaving Red Alert when he was supposed to be his backup.

Now, I’ve got mixed feelings on this. On the one hand, Inferno saves Optimus and gets Rumble out of the Negavator, which helps them win the fight. He also didn’t want to stay in the bunker, he wanted to go out and fight, but Red had him stay. On the other hand, he literally left Red alone in there, to guard a bunker and the controls for the Negavator by himself, and him leaving Red is what leads to Red thinking Inferno betrayed him once his logic chips aren’t working anymore, which lead to the idea that the other Autobots were out to get him. Inferno couldn’t have known that would happen though, so we can’t really blame him for that part. Personally I think Inferno should have stayed, but it’s a complicated situation.

They argue about it for a bit but eventually Inferno just leaves. Maybe he should have yelled out that he was leaving as he was leaving, or did something so Red knew for sure that he was leaving, but instead Red was just left confused as to where Inferno was after getting injured by the missile, which sucks.

Press F to pay respects.

Ok theory time: So Red’s sensors are sparking like mad here, probably since he was just caught in an explosion it’s a combination of malfunctioning and being in a dangerous situation. They’re sparking like mad and he was just caught in a literal explosion, which no doubt caused damage, so I think it’s a combination of his sensory horns sparking too much and the damage from the explosion that fried his logic chips. Plus there’s the red effect underneath his eyes that starts up just after the screenshot above.

(I’m sorry if you can’t see it too well, it’s the episode quality but I swear it’s there.) I think that might have been a visual representation that at that point, his logic chips were toast, so it wasn’t the initial blast that took them offline, it was something afterwards, so the idea of it being a combination of the blast and his sensory horns sparking too much could work.

And then everything goes downhill from there.

Ok there is just….so much I have to say about this bit. First off, it’s when Red’s delusions start. He feels like Inferno betrayed him, ok, that’s valid considering Inferno just left, but then he says “why can’t anyone see it, Inferno wants my job!” which…doesn’t make a lot of sense, but his logic chips are toast at this point, there’s going to be leaps in logic and delusions don’t make sense a lot of the time (I could be wrong, my own knowledge of delusions is limited to what I’ve learned on my own over the years). Then when Optimus says that “it’s too dangerous to remain here”, Red’s convinced that “Optimus wants me out of the way too, it’s a plot!”, so now instead of just thinking Inferno’s out to get him, so does Optimus, and there’s an entire plot to get rid of him, which we know isn’t true, but it’s what Red believes.

This is when things start to get worse for Red.

Now let’s talk about why the heckity-heck Optimus doesn’t push for Red to see Hoist or any other medical bot we’ve seen on the show (Hoist is the only one in the episode though). Like Red was just caught in a literal explosion, Optimus saw Red Alert’s sensory horns spark just because he was getting worked up (cue my headcanon that when Red has panic attacks his can cause his sensory horns to spark), and heard Red say “it’s just an electro-glitch that comes and goes, comes and goes”, the last part of which was said in the exact same tone and cadence as the first time he said that! Like there’s multiple signs that something could be wrong, and at the very least since he was caught in an explosion, Red should be getting checked over.

But no. Instead things get worse. I’m just saying, if Red had gotten checked over, maybe they could have discovered that his logic chips were damaged before they nearly exploded.

Ok. Moving on.

:( This is also the only time where we see that his sensory horns sparking can actually cause him pain, like it might be a combination of them sparking on how his logic chips are damaged, but I think that sometimes when he’s overwhelmed or convinced there’s danger, they can spark to the point of causing him pain. Either way, it’s still a :( moment.

Ok. Here’s another bit that bugs me.

Optimus: Red Alert, analyze that noise. Red Alert: Noise? What noise? All clear.

Like. COME ON YOU GUYS, YOU JUST SAW THE ROCKS HIT THE GROUND IN FRONT OF YOU AND IT’S WHY YOU STOPPED, YOU HEARD THE NOISE, WHY AREN’T YOU QUESTIONING WHY RED’S JUST LIKE “Noise? There was a noise? Idk what you’re talking about, I didn’t hear anything.” WHEN RED ALERT POSSIBLY HAS THE BEST HEARING OUT OF ALL OF YOU. COME ON, WHY AREN’T YOU QUESTIONING THIS????? (Also, for context if you haven’t seen the episode, while Red’s saying his bit, there’s more of those sparks and we hear electrical noises, so I think it’s implied that the damage made it so he either didn’t hear the noise or just made him forget about it immediately.)

F to Optimus and Ironhide, RIP in pieces my dudes.

Anyways, Decepticons attack, there’s confusion, and Red gets hit, which damages him even further, and he’s basically stuck halfway transformed with smoke coming from him for part of the battle and then I guess stunned during the rest since we just see him sitting on the ground at one point.

This is just the Red Alert Suffers Episode, huh.

The battle itself is hilarious though, like you’ve got Decepticons saying nonsense (Smokescreen lands some shots at them so they’re saying stuff like “hey, my circuits electric blew just out” “too mine, I’m blind flying” “away move, before collide we—” (….I have that memorized. Why do I have that memorized?), Smokescreen living up to his name, and Megatron realizing that “I’ve got morons on my team!” (we’re in season 2 of the show my dude, it’s about time you realized that. Also I remember the episode where you got drunk with the rest of them and proceeded to pass the heck out, you ain’t special. Edit: Ok that’s literally in the next episode, lol, I guess Megatron realized “hey, we’re all morons here, yolo”)

And now…oh man do I have a lot to say about this bit. I’m going to include dialogue too.

Optimus (talking about the Decepticon attack): Red Alert, why didn’t you warn us? Red, backing away: You want to get rid of me, just like the others do. Optimus: Hmmm, you’re more damaged than I thought. Red, still backing away: There’s nothing wrong with me. Optimus: Red Alert needs a complete overhaul. [Hoist and Inferno begin to approach Red, Red’s still backing away and now his horns are sparking] Hoist: Your logic and reason circuits are fried. Inferno: You need immediate repairs! Red: Don’t give me any of that, you just want to disassemble me for spare parts! [backs up into the wall] Never! I won’t let you! [runs at them, knocking Hoist and Inferno to the ground, and runs off] Inferno: Wait! Hoist: We’re your friends! Optimus: Quickly, we must rescue him before he makes his condition worse! [Autobots chase after Red, calling after him]

So it’s just like…man, they just…really didn’t handle this situation well. The entire time, throughout this entire exchange, Red is scared. He’s backing away from the others the entire time, trying to put some distance between them because he doesn’t feel safe. When Inferno and Hoist start approaching him, his horns start sparking because he’s detecting danger and that danger is Hoist and Inferno. He’s absolutely terrified that they’re going to hurt him, to get rid of him, to “disassemble him for spare parts”, and what do they do? They keep approaching, talk about how “he needs to be fixed”, and don’t listen to him or see how scared he is at all.

Now, if you don’t get why Red’s so scared, don’t get why he’s running from his friends and should “just realize he’s not thinking straight” or something like that, let me put it this way: Say you’re playing a video game, you’ve got allies, you’ve got bad guys, and you’ve made a lot of progress in this game and trust your allies to help you out. But then! Surprise plot twist! Your allies are actually planning on betraying you, so now you have to escape before they catch you! You’d feel betrayed, right? While playing this level you’d feel scared, or at least nervous, whenever any of them started to get close to catching you, right? You’d want to get away as quickly as possible, right? Well that’s kinda what it’s like for Red right now. Only it’s not a game, for him it’s real, and that makes it absolutely terrifying. (It’s not a perfect metaphor or whatever but it’s the best I’ve got, hopefully you get the point). Anyways, just the way they handled this situation wasn’t very good. They didn’t listen to Red at all, they continuously mentioned how “he needed to be fixed”, continued to approach him, and when he ran off they chased after him, still yelling about “how he needs help”. There’s multiple things they did wrong here, and all of it led to Red running off. Also, I just want to note that Red was trying to keep his distance from them the entire time, and the only reason why he ran at Hoist and Inferno before running off was because he had literally backed into a wall and they still kept approaching. At that point he felt trapped and that’s when he felt he had to run. Now, I’m not entirely sure if the situation could have been de-escalated enough that Red wouldn’t have run off, but I can make suggestions for what they could have done better. 1) Gave Red his space. Literally he was backing away the entire time so he wanted space, and potentially this could have stopped him from running off since if they did this then maybe he wouldn’t have backed into the wall and felt cornered. 2) Had some of the other Autobots drive back to the bunker, or just somewhere else. Red Alert was seriously outnumbered and he thought they were all against him, if I was outnumbered about 7-to-1, I’d be scared too, especially with one of those bots being Optimus-freaking-Prime. Honestly having like, just Hoist, or just one single bot (not Optimus or Inferno though, they were the first few he thought were against him so that might not have worked well) try to talk calmly to Red might have made a huge difference. 3) Stop talking about fixing him. While they were right about him needing help, all that was doing was making him more and more upset, so they needed to stop talking about that and listen to what he was saying more. There’s honestly probably more stuff but I can’t think of it.

Oh my god that was a ramble and a half MOVING ON.

I feel like this could be a meme format. I don’t know what kind, but it has meme vibes. Feel free to meme, lol, just make it memeingful.

Ok we’re about halfway through so I’m cutting it off here and putting the rest in another post, it should be up shortly!

[grifalinas]

Fixing volume seven: Clover

“Thanks for looking after my kids for me.”

“Hey, it’s no problem. Honestly, I’m glad you guys are here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. General Ironwood has had a lot on his plate since Beacon fell, you guys showed up at a really good time. I think he even unclenched after talking to you after you got here.”

-laughter, fond- “James has never unclenched in his life, especially not when I’m around.”

From very early in the season, Clover was giving off death-or-traitor flags. We knew from that point that he was either going to die or he was going to betray us (depending on where you’re standing, he ended up doing both). I don’t think this in itself is a problem; having a character put up multiple flags can at least keep you guessing about how the story will go. The problem was in why he was putting up those flags- that is, his complete and utter lack of a personality.

Now, one season with a lot going on doesn’t give us many chances to develop Clover properly, but I’ve been working with him awhile and understand his purpose in the story, so I think I can do something. The above scene is a loose alteration of the scene between Qrow and Clover while they’re playing cards, and is meant to be representational rather than a single straightforward scene alteration. It highlights the new approach to Clover’s character rather than a specific line or lines that could be changed.

But Theo (you might ask), why? What’s the point?

1. Clover eventually turned on Qrow because of his loyalty to James. cRWBY actually did make it pretty clear that Clover’s loyalty was to James from the beginning, with the (later echoed) “I trust that man with my life”. This conversation merely serves to reinforce that. Other scenes are tweaked in the same vein; while Clover’s existence and character does not revolve around James, his actions, even ones unrelated, do make it clear where his loyalties lie.

2. Clover mentioning that James has a lot on his plate, and that the presence of the gang and specifically Qrow (who James sees as the authority, because he’s the adult), serves as a reinforcement of the canon that James habitually takes up too many burdens and spreads himself too thin. In this specific conversation, Clover later alludes to James not having enough people to help him with these burdens, and sees the appearance of Ruby and co as a way to ease the burdens around a bit. Winter and the Ops and Penny do what they can, of course, but there are so few of them.

3. Sets the foundation of Qrow and Clover’s bond as through their bond with James. While, again, it doesn’t revolve around him, it makes it clear where Clover is coming from: James cares about Qrow, Qrow makes James relax, Qrow is good for James, ergo Qrow is good. That they build their own bond and relationship from that doesn’t change the fact that it started from their mutual love for James, which in turn lays the foundation for Clover’s later decision to prioritize his trust in James over his affection for Qrow. James is Clover’s priority. He cares about Qrow, but if Qrow goes against James, Clover will take James’ side (especially in a situation where the rift is based on the frantic words of a girl who has, at that point, already been proved untrustworthy, but we’ll talk about that in another fix).

4. Reinforces Qrow and James’ personal history, which predates anything that has happened onscreen in the show. Qrow and James go back, far enough that Qrow can joke fondly with James’ little boy about whether James will unclench around him. Qrow is fond of James, in a way that can only be rooted in their messy, complicated history and an affection that has had years to build. And Qrow is able to be fond of James at Clover, because of their mutual love for him.

5. This will come up in another fix and is extremely tiny and insignificant, but it’s important that the audience be reminded that the current situation stems directly from what happened at Beacon. “Since Beacon” stresses that, in a very subtle nod.

6. Qrow referring to Ruby and co as “my kids” gives me life, and also makes it clear that Ruby is not the only one of those kids that he cares about.

7. Clover’s use of “unclenched”, an extremely casual and even jabbing turn of phrase, actually paints his relationship with James as more mutual than previously implied. If Clover is relaxed enough to joke about James “unclenching”, that means that a, he is aware enough to know that James is at least a little flawed, and b, he is comfortable with a degree of banter. He feels comfortable joking like that with Qrow because Qrow also loves James, but no amount of ‘you also love James’ would make Clover make that kind of comment if he didn’t know James would accept it if he ever found out. Suddenly Clover isn’t James’ robotic unfeeling subordinate with no personality but his luck and more death or traitor flags than Felix, he’s James’ trusted left hand who cares about him and wants him to be under less stress than currently.

8. Qrow using James’ first name instead of calling him general, because I’m leaning into that theme.

[marlahey]

@rochey1010​ going back and forth in long-winded replies seems like unnecessary effort for both of us so I hope you don’t mind another text post as I fully articulate my thoughts. as I’ve said before, you’re obviously entitled to your own opinions, but you’ve now seemed to make a lot of assumptions about me a fan/viewer/general consumer of media that I feel like I should clear up. you’ve also made some further claims about the show I’d like to pick up for discussion. If you want to speak further please feel free to respond but of course don’t feel obligated. This’ll be the last public post/reply I make and we can go back to ignoring each other in the tags!

Well i love Eliott/Lola's friendship and i have an upcoming post on that as i said in other posts. I love lola too but i'm sorry i didn't just start watching this show because lola was invented and there's a w/w love story. I've been here for seasons and carried over from OG. I have investment in eliott for personal reasons (mental health) and elu because duh. Their stories have been long running too as i said. And you don't have to be a main to set up a plot/arc. The things between them have been set up since S3 with minute par minute talk, S4 and Idriss, S5 and the cheating perspective, and now S6 and Lola friendship. That is intentional. Do you think it's a coincidence that Lucas talked about pansexuality and eliott having more choice in S5 and suddenly Eliott has a friendship with a girl. That lucas abandonment issues haven't been resolved and are now coming to the forefront because of this friendship? That max has stated that Eliott feels he can save someone from a darkness he himself went through, that eliott himself was sorta saved from the shadows by Lucas. That neils/david specifically stated that this character can help someone even though he has bipolar disorder. That with Eliott's arc there is a focus on his SKAM. That we now have new info about it serving the season. If you understand writing. These things aren't put there for fun. They are there to imply/hint/foreshadow events actions to come. That there is a character now on the show with Lola basically female eliott. Do you think these are all coincidences. This plot we are seeing has slowly been set up not just since S3 but actually heavily developed starting in S5. And that if you now go back and watch S5 you see our main players being set up for this plot e.g  dasille relationship, daphne's ED, Eliott and his individuality, Elu trust/insecurity issues, Eliott's art and it tying into seasonal themes, Lola herself and her outlier persona etc. I don't know whether you are but there are many fans have migrated over from espana just for this season. But you have to understand there is a long term fanbase here that love Eliott, are invested in him and have been waiting for more of his insight. We are now getting that and we will talk about him. He's a hugely popular character as is Lucas and their love. I love both and i will talk about both. Sometimes i won't talk much About lola and talk more about eliott, sometimes i'll connect them and discuss their relationship, sometimes i'll make a post about just about lola, daphne, tiff, benny, movie references as i have. But this is my blog and i'll post what i want to post. You don't have to read any of this stuff. The tag is a big place, just scroll by. As for the theories- just theories. And in my theories i believe these characters are going to make mistakes, fail and grow e.g. lola self Destructing again but being her own hero by the end, eliott and lola being dragged down like lucas said but showing the strength of their friendship by the end, lucas being proven right but also proven wrong by the end. Like i said specific dialogue now being used is not just there to fill the script e.g. "and i have lucas. I can't lose this" "i think one of you may bring the other down" and eliott is heading for a rock bottom as is lola. Again just my thoughts. 👍

While I find it odd that you seem to be gatekeeping the skam france fan community, to be clear I have seen the entirety of three iterations: og, france, and austin. I believe I started OG during s2 or 3, and have seen Fr and Aus from the beginning. I’m not as interested in other versions as I’m very familiar with the plots/characters by now. I’m partial to france as a bilingual canadian as it’s nice to exercise that part of my brain; I’ve also studied/lived there briefly and have some very close friends from france so that amplifies my enjoyment. I’m also bisexual, so I also find this ‘only here for lola + w/w’ when you yourself admit to being emotionally invested in the show’s most dominant queer ship dichotomy very awkward.  to be honest, I think many skam’s fandoms tend to fixate on the esak ship and their season. friends have seen other iterations and confirmed this for me. it happened with elu as expected so I was really unsurprised when maya was introduced and fandom immediately put a lot of their investment into shipping two characters of the same gender. nearly every fandom in general does this: teen wolf, glee, supernatural to name a few – even harry potter. I’m not really a fan of the romantic subplot in lola’s season. she is not elliot 2.0 for so many reasons; she’s her own person and she doesn’t need a romantic partner to be a compelling character with a compelling story. that being said, I liked elu’s season. I particularly love maxence’s elliot; he’s my favourite even. I was thrilled to see him onscreen however briefly after S3 every time he appeared. now he’s finally his own person outside of his relationship with lucas and I couldn’t be more pleased to see that.  I’m not sure how idriss and elliot reconnecting after the attempted kiss falling out plays into lucas’ insecurity or their relationship. it’s perhaps a reminder of his bipolar disorder or the fact that he clearly had friends/relationships before lucas, but I’m not sure how it’s relevant to the season at hand. the biphobia discussion with arthur preceeding lola’s introduction as the new main is not proof that lucas’ supposed abandonment issues are founded in any way, or that he even still has them when we meet her. by insisting on it, you’re perpetuating the harmful idea that any bi or pan person will be tempted to cheat or leave (physically or emotionally) when presented with literally any person whose gender opposes their current partner. this is something that skam fr had literally left unaddressed for so long even with representation in alexia and elliot, and I was so thrilled when it finally came up. it’s very uncomfortable that you’re now using that important conversation as apparent proof that lucas will be abandoned or betrayed, inadvertently or not, by his pansexual boyfriend. I know that daphné was meant to be s6′s main and skam fr wasn’t given the rights by og’s creator. so it makes sense that she/her relationship/struggles feature heavily in her sister’s season. I’m personally thrilled cause I love her and lula is a wonderful actress. that being said, not everything is foreshadowing. not every single interaction or conversation will return to further plot or character. sometimes storylines are just resolved or dropped and awareness raised is just awareness raised. sometimes it’s wonderful and sometimes less so. I understand writing. I’m saying this as a literal former english teacher (ignoring capitalization for aesthetic lol) and assistant in film/tv post-production with an MA in media studies. “Lucas, you have nothing to worry about, it’s not like that between us.” “I know, he explained it to me.”  I’m not sure how much clearer the literal show can be about this issue. spoiler or not, it’s been made abundantly clear that lola and elliot are not romantically involved. even more importantly and I’ve said this on my blog before, you’re allowed to have intimacy with someone without forcing it into a defined familial or romantic relationship. it doesn’t mean that someone’s partner should necessarily feel threatened or abandoned and says a lot more about that person’s insecurity than either individual in the friendship. we’ve also already discussed how much I dislike this turn for lucas’ character as elliot’s apparent MH saviour so it’s not worth repeating again. as for elliot saving lola, well he literally did that already. I’m not sure what you mean by lucas ‘being proven right and proven wrong’ by the end, but you’re obviously adamant that something will happen. I have also seen maxence’s interview a few times. I’ll not argue with the ‘lucas saved elliot from that shadow’ because it literally came from the actor’s mouth, but maxence doesn’t say he can save anyone else from their struggles, but help them and I think that’s a really important distinction. this whole saving idea doesn’t seem healthy at all, especially as lola and elliot grapple with their mental health. it seems like people want to see a ‘rock bottom’ (whatever that means) for them both and it makes me a little uncomfortable. addiction and MH struggles should not have to reach a breaking point in order to be considered resolved or cathartic; they don’t even have to be resolved, because they’re not a plot device. they’re a reality for so many people. the show does a good job of not romanticizing them but some of the things I see in the tag are just... yikes.  as for his ‘dark’ side and the less than happy elu moments, I’d argue that maxence may have meant literally punching out what’s his face to save lola and the subsequent argument(s) with lucas, since that interview came out just before ep 4. but there’s still several eps to go so I could be totally wrong. who knows. it’s your right to theorize on your own blog of course and it’s not my intention to be mean. I’m just trying to further the discourse in a respectful way. I do feel that you may put a little too much stock in what’s literally said/seen and assuming a lot in the unseen gaps, rather than considering a broader context. to wrap up though, lucas is free to have this (however hurtful) fear, just as you’re free to believe it’ll for sure come to pass.  I dread seeing either lola or elliot spiral out, but as 2020 has taught me, I very rarely get what I want lol. thank you @cakepleasee for helping me sort out my thoughts!

[screamingatanemptyroom]

I Can’t Eat Love pt 34

Here it is, the final part from Lenora’s perspective. I am officially planning four side parts, each from a different perspective. These will give insight into the past, and a glimpse of what happens after the story. So they’ll be very important to wrapping things up. 

I really want to thank everyone who has been following this with me. I really really love writing this story, these characters, and honestly i didn’t want to end it. But this was always the story i wanted to tell. I’m so happy i had the chance to tell it. 

Thank you for reading 

Master post linked here. 

Enjoy!

______________________________

 “Will that be all your Majesty?” 

A servant bowed before the King of Reterand, his face solemn and respectful. The King, sitting in his chair by the fireplace, glanced around the empty, well lit room before gesturing for the servant to leave.

“I do not wish to be disturbed.” At his cold tone the servant flinched, before backing quickly out of the room.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Click.

The door closed behind him, and the King was alone. He stared into the fire, his hands clenched on the armrests of his chair.

“Why couldn’t she just die?” He muttered, his face bitter. “Everything would have been settled if she were gone. I’ll have to figure out something new…”

His voice trailed off as he blinked, a strange blue smoke was coming out of the fire, surrounding him. His eyes widened with shock and he opened his mouth to call out, but before any sound escaped he slumped into his chair, unconscious.

Watching through the peepholes in the secret passageway, I grinned at the sight.

______________________________

It took around ten minutes for the king to fully wake up. In that time the room had greatly changed. The lamps had dimmed, the majority of light in the space coming from the weakened fire behind the King’s chair. A table was set before him, and across from him was an equally luxurious chair, in which I sat.

His gaze focused on me, and his face turned pale with fear. He opened his mouth once more to call out for help.

Thud.

A knife thrown from my hand passed right by his face, embedding itself into the wooden mantel of the fireplace behind him. A short distance over and it would have landed in his eye instead. 

“My apologies, Your Majesty. I’m a nervous person, my hand tends to slip when I think loud noises will happen.”

I watched him with satisfaction as he understood the meaning of my words:

Call out if you want to die.

“You’re crazy.” He whispered, his eyes locked onto the throwing knife in my hand. 

“Really? How strange.” I smiled gently “I’m not the one seeking my own destruction. But there doesn’t have to be any unpleasantness, Your Majesty. I’m only here to talk.”

“Talk?” He snorted. “You broke into the palace and drugged your king to have a talk? You bit…” 

Thud.    Drip. Drip. Drip.

The sound of the blood running down his cheek and dripping onto the floor broke the only silence of the room. The King’s eyes held equal parts pain and terror as his hand slowly rose up to his face, and he turned to look at the bloody knife embedded in the mantel next to the first.

“Again, I have to apologize.” I held up a third knife, “I’m a very nervous person. It’s hard for me to hear such unpleasantness.”

“…” He grabbed a handkerchief and pressed it to the bleeding wound, studying me for a long moment.

“What do you want?”

I smiled at the sound of fear in his voice. “One simple question:” I leaned forward, staring into his eyes. “Why?”

The silence stretched on between us.

Why? Why had he schemed to bring me under his control? Why had he planned to hurt me, to kill me? Why had he hurt the ones I loved?

“I never wanted your throne.” My voice was quiet. “I never wanted the kingdom, to take your place. I sought only to leave you, your son and your kingdom behind.”

So why?

The king looked up at the ceiling and softly began to laugh.

“Don’t pretend to be innocent! You think I’m blind? A fool?” His laughter ended, his expression solemn. “The power shifted in this kingdom, how could I not be aware? The people all know, as do the other nobles. If you want wealth, then go to the Duchy of Armeny. If you seek knowledge, then the schools within their borders contain them. If you are poor and suffering, then the Duchy will take you in.”

He shook his head. “They all know, they all speak of it. How Lenora of Armeny loves the people. How she cares for them, works for them tirelessly. So different from the crown, from the other nobles. They view you as their leader. Did you really think I wouldn’t see what you were doing?” 

“I never wanted power.”

“Liar.” He laughed again. “Maybe I would have believed it, thought you really cared for others, if you weren’t her daughter.” His voice expressed disgust at the word. “The woman who clung to me, clung to my throne. She never forgave me for casting her aside, marrying someone else.”

He’s talking about Seline. The woman I had once called mother. My smiled widened at his increasingly frantic tone.

“I thought giving you the engagement would satisfy her need for revenge. At least her daughter would be queen! But then… I saw your eyes at Ronan’s birthday party. And I realized… She didn’t want her daughter to simply succeed my position, she had brought her up to destroy me.”

I thought of the moment our eyes met in the ballroom that day, the coldness I had found there.

“You thought I was that woman’s pawn?”

“Of course! She had raised you to hate me, to destroy me! She was obsessed with me and I betrayed her! And you were her revenge!” His voice was slowly raising in volume. I held up my knife, warning him, and he quieted his tone, although he remained belligerent. “I knew I had to either bind you to the crown or destroy you.”

This was how he viewed me? His fear, his paranoia, his determination to defeat me, all stemmed from this? I couldn’t help it, I began to chuckle.

“Wha…” He stared at me in shock as the chuckle grew into a laugh, continuing until tears were rolling from my eyes. 

“Fool.” A single word, but he flinched at it.

“You made the same mistake that everyone around that woman does. You thought that because you betrayed her, she would be obsessed with you? Want revenge?” I shook my head. “Seline has only ever cared about one person, and one person only: herself.” 

She hated the king who betrayed her, but never sought his attention once she turned her back. She had tried to push me to be Queen, but not for revenge. She had only wanted the benefits for herself. 

“She is a very simple person. She wants to be rich, she wants to be pampered, she wants to be happy.” I listed these off while counting on my fingers. “When you left her she hated you, yes… but she immediately sought out the next available rich and powerful young man to marry, thinking he would dote on her. And when that didn’t work out…”

I thought of the bitter woman I had grown up around, who hated my father for not adoring her after being forced into marriage with her. Who after realizing that having a child that would be Queen didn’t give her the attention and pampering she felt she deserved immediately abandoned us both in search of a new lover. She had never looked back, except to protect her image.

“Do you really think I was working with her?” I leaned forward, and the King flinched. “I was the one who destroyed her.”

I had quietly released the truth about her among the merchants and nobility. The truth of her actions and despicable nature was slowly spreading, with no indication of their source.  The king must have heard of them, but hadn’t realized that the person he had considered her pawn had turned against the woman who gave birth to her.

“No, that’s not true. You are her revenge…”  He started to mutter but I interrupted him, my bright smile causing him to shudder.

“She’s already abandoned you long ago.”

“…” He stared at me in silent shock.

“You have been wrong about so many things, Your Majesty. Wrong about Seline. Wrong about me and my motives. But most of all, your biggest mistake was this:” I twirled the throwing knife in my hand. “You thought that the reason I didn’t fight back was because I couldn’t… because I was scared.”

“You…”

A pile of documents landed on the table where I threw them, the sound silencing the King’s retort. 

“The only reason I haven’t moved was because you were never worth being my opponent in the first place.”

I had ignored his attempts to force me to marry. I had turned a blind eye to his schemes to take my life. But now…

He had touched my people.

I thought of Hallers, still recovering from his injuries at the Queen’s private suite. Of  Rig and Nate, whose safety in Tilendria was still unknown.

I pointed at the stack.

“What is that?” His voice betrayed his confusion and fear.

“I’m not a ruler like you, Your Majesty. I’m not a warrior, a spy or a revolutionary.” I grinned, “I’m a businesswoman.”

He looked at the papers once more.

“And I’m here to do business.”

Slowly, a shaking hand reached out towards the stack of papers, turning them and reading them one by one. The rest of the color completely drained from his face, until he looked like someone half-dead.

“An accurate representation of my wealth. You must have been surprised when I recently revealed myself as the owner of Prosperity, right?” I watched his face, and the look in his eyes made me feel happy. “You have probably been scrambling, realizing that your enemy was stronger than you thought. But you were still wrong.”

He flinched at the last word.

“I’m much more powerful than even that.” I pointed at the papers, and he continued to read. “Not only do I control Prosperity, but I’ve slowly been investing in different businesses within Reterland over the past five years. There’s very few places that are not connected to me financially, one way or the other.” 

“…” He flipped to the last page, shaking his head as if to deny the information before him.

“What do you think would happen if I pulled out all of my money from Reterland?” 

At those words the King’s head snapped up, his eyes wide. “You wouldn’t! You could lose everything!”

“Lose everything?” The thought made me laugh. “No. I would only lose a lot of money. Most of it, in fact.” I leaned back in my chair, my eyes on his. “But I would have my life. My loved ones. I can start over and build everything again.” 

I had already done it once. For them? I would do it over again a thousand times. 

“But Reterland’s economy? It would be crippled. It would never recover.”

“Why…?”

“But that is only the beginning.”

 Another stack of papers landed. This time he viewed them with clear terror. 

“Go ahead. Read it You not looking at it won’t change anything. I’ll simply tell you the contents.” The turning blade in my hand reflected the firelight around the room, he stared at the sight, seemingly dazzled. “It’s every dirty secret within the nobility. Everything they’ve strived to keep hidden, all written neatly upon every page. Every noble.” I smiled sadly. “Even my father.”

I had initially excluded him from Rig’s investigations, but now his secrets were on the second page. 

“Even you.”

The King’s secrets were on the first.

He picked up the top page, his hands shaking as he read it slowly.

“So many dirty secrets, evil deeds done in the shadows. Hiring corrupt men to infiltrate the Duchy, weaken it from within? Spreading rumors and lies? Drugging a daughter of the nobility to attach her to your son? How hideous.”

Of course there were many, many more on that page. The Duchy of Armeny wasn’t the only power he had sought to cripple.

“The people of this nation are so important. How will they react when so many of the nobility are revealed to be corrupt? How much faith will they have in them? In you?”

“…” He couldn’t reply, he just stared at the page in front of him. I needed to push harder. 

“The nobility isn’t the only part of this kingdom I’ve been watching.”

A third and final stack. This time he picked it up immediately, before dropping it again as if it were burning his hand. It may have felt like that to him.

“Exact locations and numbers of your troops, your weapons… everything.” 

“This is a declaration of war.” He mumbled, not looking away from the paper in front of him. “Tilendria…”

“Could destroy you in an instant.”  I tapped a finger on the paper, catching his attention once more. “With a crippled economy, disgraced leadership and exact knowledge of the enemy’s military? I could place a five year old at the head of an army and he could take you down.”

The King’s lips drew back in a snarl at my words, even as he seemed to be desperately searching for a way to deny them. I stood up, vaulting over the table, arriving at the King’s side in an instant. He shrunk back in his chair but was unable to avoid the blade at his throat, or block the whisper in his ears.

“If none of that matters to you then consider this: How did I get here without raising a single alarm?”

His eyes were wide with fear as he stared up at me.

“How many of your people are already mine for me to walk calmly in and drug your fire?”

 I had actually arrived through the secret passages but there was no need to tell him that. I reached out and took the wine glass from his table with my free hand, tipping it back and drinking from it. All the while the point of my dagger dug into the monarch’s throat. “How easy would it be to poison your wine? Your fire? A needle in your bed?” I laughed coldly, setting the empty glass down.

“Do you believe me now when I say that I never wanted your throne?”

The King’s gaze was steady on me as he gave the slightest nod of his head, wary of the knife in my hand. He was convinced. How could he not be?

If I had wanted the throne, I could have taken it any time I wanted.

“You were never my opponent.” I stepped away, still holding the knife, walking towards the door. “A scared old man who desperately clung to his throne, chasing shadows… when you were never prepared to sacrifice what you needed to in order to win against me.”

He was different then me. He saw everyone around him as threats or tools, moving according to his whim. He was willing to sacrifice everyone else to protect everything he had….

While I was willing to sacrifice everything I had to protect everyone else.

“What do you want?” The same question as earlier, but this time it carried the sound of defeat.

I smiled. “I want you to do nothing.”

“…” His face was incredulous, it made me laugh.

“Rule your kingdom, for as long as that lasts. Do not look at me. Do not turn towards those under my protection. If you touch a single hair on their heads…”

I paused, trying to compose the expression on my face. I couldn’t completely succeed, however, by the look of terror in his eyes.

“I will destroy everything.”

My final threat. I meant every word. A moment of hesitation, any crack in the confidence I displayed, could spell the difference between victory and continued danger for them 

The King weakly nodded, looking much smaller than he had before. “I will do as you say.”

“Good.” 

THUD

The third dagger flew into the fireplace, splitting open a small bag of powder, which combined with the fire, letting out blue smoke once more.

“Remember this promise.”

The King’s eyes remained on me even as he started to sway, the effect of the drug taking hold.

“Oh, and one more thing:” I turned away “I’m taking your wife with me.”

The King slipped into unconsciousness under my gold gaze.

______________________________

I arrived back at the Duchy to pick everyone up. 

“Is it over?” Henry greeted me with a smile. 

I nodded. “it’s over.”

“Are you leaving? For good?” He looked sad. Reaching out and hugging him, I nodded quietly. 

“I’ll miss you.” He reached over and picked something up, tucking it behind my ear. A flower. Of course. I left it in place, smiling back.

“Well, you better come and visit then. And of course I’ll always be willing to help out with the duchy.” 

“Nate still owes me some plants, so I’ll take you up on that.” We hugged again, and I blinked back tears. 

“See you soon.”

______________________________

As we packed up and prepared to leave, I heard someone call out my name quietly. Pausing as I was about to enter the carriage, I looked over to see the pale face of my father as he stood in the doorway, watching me. 

“Your daughter is in prison. For trying to kill me.” My words were short, cold. He shuddered and stepped back. 

“Lenora... I’m...” His voice faded, unable to say the last word. 

He wasn’t sorry. He was so focused on the future he had lost that he had never once thought of making a new one with me.  

“The paperwork for you to hand over the Duchy to Henry completely has been prepared. Sign it before tomorrow.” It was a threat. I knew his secrets. He may not care about himself, but for the woman he still loved... 

“I’ll sign it.” He had no hesitation. It had been a long time since my father had cared about the Duchy at all. “Are you leaving already?”

I smiled. “I have to go home.”

Where Nate was. Where my family was. It was time to go home. 

I left him behind, never looking back.

______________________________

 “Why are you so nervous?” Queen Amerande smiled at me as she held my hand in the carriage.  I clutched at the reassuring warmth, feeling sick to my stomach as I thought of what waited for me ahead. I would rather confront the king a hundred more times than face what was before me now.

“They said he was injured.” I whispered, staring down at my lap, trying to take slow deep breathes.

“Yes, but he and Rig both made it back alive.” She patted my head. “Isn’t that a reason to be relieved?”

They were alive. I couldn’t help but smile, despite my nervousness. We had received a letter while we traveled. Rig had arrived in time to warn Nate of the bandit’s true nature. Nate had already gathered a strong force, and with knowledge of where their reinforcements were coming from, had managed to cut the secret army in half, defeating them soundly. They were recovering now in a small border town of Tilendria, where our carriage was heading right now.

“He’s waiting for you.” Was all that Rig’s note had said to tell me.

I frowned. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

Hallers, Lia and the Queen all stared at me kindly, none of them needing to ask what I was worried about.

It was one thing to recognize my feelings. It was another to face them openly. To trust him with my heart.

I was terrified.

I felt a warm hand on my head. Hallers, still bandaged in multiple places, smiled at me. “You have us behind you, Miss. Live freely. Don’t be afraid.”

We won’t let you fall alone.

The words unsaid brought tears to my eyes. I nodded, feeling stronger as the carriage slowly came to a stop. 

“There’s two men waiting on the road ahead.” The driver called out. I felt my heart beat faster as I looked out through the window. Rig remained on a horse, looking tired, but happy. And there, standing on the road, waiting was Prince Nathaniel of Tilendria.

The man I loved.

The man who loved me.

I stepped out of the carriage, walking towards him.

______________________________

“Love is useless.” The words escaped through chapped, broken lips. I was curled up in a ball in an alley. Pain. Hunger. Exhaustion. I could feel death’s presence hanging over me, and I was tired of fighting it.

I had loved my mother, but she had only loved herself.

I had loved my father, but he never even looked once in my direction.

I had loved Edith, and she had betrayed me, taking my engagement with a smile.

I had loved Ronan, but he had never wanted to even know my name.

I had loved Queen Amerande… but she had forgotten about me.

Love was a useless thing. A weakness. If there was any life after death, I would never love again. I would find wealth. I would find power. I would eat until I was full every day.

But I would never ever love again.

I closed my eyes for the last time.

______________________________

I kept my eyes wide open as I looked at the man I loved. His left arm was bandaged heavily, he had large bruise on one cheek, but he was smiling. The warm, loving smile that I knew so well. 

“Lenora.”

I sighed at the sound of my name. I kept walking. The fear, the hesitation were still present but smaller than the force within me driving me forward. Arriving in front of him, we both stood there for a few moments, staring at each other.

“This is for you.” His hand reached out, and in it was an envelope, so similar to the others he had given me over the years.

How many times had he supported me?

I had lost count.

At my expression he laughed, a pleasant, lighthearted sound. “I promise this is the last one.”

I took it, the paper smooth against my fingertips, shaking with the trembling of my hand. The last one. Because after this, he would have nothing left to give me. A smile crossed my face as I slowly opened the paper, reading the words written inside.

“This may seem sudden. I know that you don’t believe that love is a good thing. Especially after that idio… after everything you’ve been through, I understand if you’re not ready to trust me. But I had to tell you what I hope for. What my dream is.”

The paper in my hand drifted slowly to the ground. It settled there, halfway between us. Nate frowned at the sight, anxiety creeping into his gaze as he looked up at me.

I smiled at him. “I love you.”

“…” He seemed frozen. I waited for a few moments, wondering if I needed to say something else, but then his entire face turned red and he crouched down on the ground covering his head. 

“So unfair!” He muttered. “I wasn’t expecting it.” 

I laughed. “You weren’t expecting me to tell you ‘I love you’ after you proposed?” I looked back down at the paper, the words facing upwards towards me. Clearly written on there was a simple request, but one that changed everything.

Please marry me. Spend forever by my side.

I wanted all of that and more.

Finally he stood up, and although his face was still red, Nate’s gaze was clear as he took a deep breath and spoke once more.

“I love you too. Will you marry me?”

Love is useless.

I left those words behind me. I reached out and touched his face, and then stepped closer. 

“Yes.” 

My lips touched his for only a short moment, but we each sighed with relief at the contact. I parted only the smallest distance from him. We were both smiling.

“We have a lot to talk about.”

He would know my past. Everything. It would be easier to say this time around. I looked behind me, smiling gratefully at the Queen and Hallers, who both had exited the carriage and were cheering loudly. Rig grinned as he got off of his horse and patted Nate on the back. 

“Congrats, both of you.” Rig and I looked at each other, and I knew what he was excited to get a new member of the family.

“I’ll write to Erica and Marile.” Lia had stepped out as well. “We’ll hear the screams from here.”

“I’ll tell them in person when we arrive home. After that, we’ll never hear the end of it.” I pretended to complain, but knew that they would both be happy for me. They were part of it too after all. Our family.

“Good.” Nate reached out and took my hand. “Let’s go home.”

Home.  

Nate and I walked hand in hand towards the carriage, ready to head back to the capital. As we walked I couldn’t help but think of everything that had led up to this. My former life. The struggles I had gone through. The hatred, the bitterness, the vengeance I had been caught up in without even knowing why.

I still didn’t know why I had been given a second chance at life.

But now, as I stood with the family that cared for me, the one that I had protected, I couldn’t help but look forward to the future.

One I would create with those I loved

[h-sleepingirl]

Scenes from a Hypnotic (Sixteenth) Date

This was possibly the best weekend we’ve ever had. It was perfect in every way. We had so, so much time. Every moment we had was blindingly good. Every trance was so hot.

But I need to explain some backstory. It happened in a very strange turn of events.

After our last date, we put another on the calendar for later in the month.

We had had some ridiculously hot Skype calls.

He wakes up one morning and says that he had had rough sleep but dreams about trance.

We’ve played with it a little with just my touch. I know he loves the way that I touch him.

...I feel like this is so hard to explain.

I know he thinks about it. I know he wants it.

So texting him that morning, still half asleep myself, I follow through for the first time.

It’s precious.

I notice that he programmed me to make him feel good, but it also doesn’t feel like a service. It’s something else.

I’ve never actually tranced someone in a full text session, but I feel like I’ve been doing it for years.

I’ve never actually tranced him before with my words, but I feel like I’ve been doing it for years.

I can’t really even process it.

Neither can he.

He texts me later and says, “I honestly could just come up to see you this weekend. I shouldn’t, though…”

And I say, “Not to make it hard on you, but you could…”

And then it’s Friday, and we’re picking him up from the train station.

--

I crawl into bed with him on Friday night, on the air mattress, and he feels so good.

He trances me and I remember us. He brainwashes me and I feel it. There is something very open about where he is.

We’re laying there, totally entwined, faces almost pressed together, and I see something.

“You shift so quickly,” I whisper, and I turn on my touch, and I watch his eyes, and I watch it happen in the dark.

He breathes sharp and sweet and I can feel his entire body go, not slack, but so obviously changed. And I’m not nervous. And I’m not uncomfortable. I just do what I do.

It is surreal in a lot of ways because so many of my words are his, so much of my language is his, so much of what I have learned is from him. How could it not be? I have been tranced by him more than anyone in my life. I know I am good. I know I am really, really good. I know he has seen me do this. I know this is the first time he gets me in this way, to hear me, and feel me like this. I am conscious of it; I intermingle and future pace with it.

He is so talkative in trance and so charming -- I think to myself, “He is so charming in everything; of course he is charming in this.” But the charm draws partially from a new place, a vulnerability that I have only seem glimpses of. He is just as eloquent, and just as verbose, and that is so unique to me. I love it.

He’s experienced but right now it’s like trancing a new subject and I recognize that and feel gracious for it. I incorporate it. He expresses things about where he’s at and I respond to him easily. To some degree, the entire thing is a reaffirmation of my skill, and with the person who I most want to impress with that.

I count him out eventually but we both know that he’s still a little fucked.

“You’re so good,” he says, still almost babbling. “You’re so good, your touch is so good, your words are so good, oh God, it’s like me, like you’re doing what I would do, but you’re also so you…”

I think about all the times I’ve fantasized about trancing someone in front of him, partially just to get him to recognize, to show off, to be praised for how good and smart I am. I never thought this is how I’d hear it, from his voice, and so genuinely blown away, but I realize that this is the only way I ever would have been satisfied with it. Heat is blooming in my chest. My ego threatens to burst. It is better than anything to hear him so amazed. I am addicted to his words in this just as much as I am addicted to them anywhere else.

We talk about how this feels world-breaking, how we feel like it is even more us.

We stay up so late, wrapped in each other in such a way that we almost feel like one person.

--

We have all morning and day. He trances the absolute fuck out of me on the couch. I don’t remember what he does but I am so fucked, head tilted back and completely open.

When he wakes me up, I just stare at him, blown away, gripped by it.

“I just go away,” I say to him, voice cracking. “I am so, so gone. You make me so gone. You take me away…”

I think about that, I think about the deep eroticism of that, not escapism, just the sex of someone controlling and wiping me out. I lean my head back again, resigned.

He snaps and I realize I had been gone again and I jolt up and gasp at him.

“It’s funny,” he says, grinning, “I was going to have you put your head back again to take advantage of the anchor but you did it yourself.”

Fuck.

--

We move to the bed and somehow I am trancing him again, just my touch moving across his body, then my words whispering out and feeling so like I am seducing him with it. He is deeper and I want him deeper and I want to see it in the light. I marvel at the sense of trancing someone that I am so physically entangled with, the way that I can feel every small motion of his body with my own, how tuned I am to it and how obvious it feels.

I have this sense that I can’t help but be turned on by hypnosis, like the physical force of it, the representation of it and the energy of it that I’m manifesting. I want more of it. It is like a drug that we are both immersed in. I want to dip him further into it.

I take a little risk and freeze him with just that word, a “What will happen?” and he stills perfectly. I realize I used touch and anchored it without thinking about it and keep that in mind for some future time. I wonder idly how I should unfreeze him -- with his own word, “melt,” or something else? I think about grinding on his leg while he can’t move, but I don’t. I use the opportunity of letting his body go to incorporate more depth.

I meander into bringing his hand over my body, putting him in contact with my skin that I know he is obsessed with, the curve of my hip that he has said is analogous to the way I speak, up towards my breast, and I can see it overwhelm him. I am turned on but watching delicately from outside myself, needing to hold it together.

But his hands on my body is a deep trigger for me, and I realize that I’m slipping, completely conditioned, very real, and somehow now we’re both in trance. He doesn’t quite turn the tables but he gets more aggressive and I get more quiet. It’s hot and heavy and I’m having a difficult time processing any of it.

He plays with my tits for a long, long time, and I feel a little unsure even as the pleasure of it is so enormous: Is this OK? Are we doing this right? Who’s driving the bus?

Eventually we are just a heavy breathing wreck together, but he always recovers before me, and I am helpless as he reminds me that I am his toy in such a way that my body goes fully doll and I am destroyed.

--

We go to the tavern in the center of town for a late lunch. It is more personal here -- I’ve been to this place countless times with friends and partners, and I wonder if that will stop me from trancing out, but of course it can’t.

Nothing can.

Simple. Easy. Deep. He is so smooth and doing it in plain sight. I am wide-eyed staring at him, totally blank.

“Laugh like I just told a funny joke,” he says, smiling.

My body goes through the motions and I genuinely giggle just in time for our waitress to come over with drinks.

I am caught on this sense that this was a fantasy I must have had when I was younger.

“Close your eyes for a second,” he says, and I know why he’s telling me to do it -- my eyes must be so red from deep trance. But I feel his words controlling me anyways, not trancing me, just controlling my actions as I close them.

When they open, I ask, “Are they better?”

“Not really,” he says.

--

Near the end of our food, I feel something prickling at the edge of me.

“I think I’m nervous,” I say, to him, very very deep in trance again. “I think I’m nervous about the dynamic changing, or that you won’t enjoy trancing me as much, or that I’ll trance you and not really…”

“Are you worried about me responding and you just going for it without actually wanting to?” he says.

“I think so,” I say, and this is a really hard discussion, and I recognize that it would be made much harder if I wasn’t in a very deep trance.

“I really, really don’t want you to trance me if you don’t want to,” he says, and without missing a beat, always so fast, he looks at me seriously. “In fact, look: This is a rule. Do not trance me if you don’t want it. We don’t really have a lot of rules, but this is one.”

I feel my shoulders lose their tension and I tear up.

“Thank you,” I say.

--

We even have time after we get home from the restaurant.

Gasping in his arms. Shaking. All of it.

“Going…” he says, darkly. “Going, going…”

Oh, fuck…

“Gone.”

Total emptiness. Total, helpless arousal.

Snap.

Of course he uses this with me. Of course. The core of my sexuality, what I’ve always wanted, the thing that feels better than anything else: crushing depth and emptiness, coercive, seductive, forced. I think back to the couch.

I am gripped by this feeling that this is everything I want, but catch myself.

“Fuck,” I say softly, into his chest. “I almost said it -- I almost said, ‘I’d do anything…’”

I am so careful about that phrase, because it means a lot to me and yet means nothing at all; I hate the idea that I’d say something untrue. Of course there are things I wouldn’t do. But it has slipped out once, in the throes of deep trance, pleading to keep going, and he recognized it and twisted the knife on what it meant.

Just as he does now, pointing out how I betray myself.

--

With 15 minutes left, he makes a comment about how we can’t do much of anything in that time.

We both grin, hair mussed up, clothes askew.

15 minutes is plenty to rewrite me, and so he does it as easily as he breathes.

He adds another facet to trance so it becomes a state of peril and danger. He points out that I have no self control anymore -- he is the voice of my executive functions.

I am this plastic to him. I am this malleable. I am his toy. It is perfect.

--

When he wakes me up and we are both exhausted but have to behave, he says one little offhanded final comment and after my initial reaction, we both stop and go, “Oh my god, that is so good, for all of these different reasons, wow, we could teach a class on this…” And I furiously take notes as we bounce back and forth, so intelligent and playing perfectly off of each other, the total geeks that we are about this, completely energized by it all.

--

Then we are in bed again at night, and we don’t stay up quite as late, but it is a relief to be there and to feel him and smell him, and we fit just right.

I see something small and white in the blanket and pick it up.

“A feather?” I say. It must have come from a pillow or something.

“Are you finally shedding your wings?” he asks, and I just stare at him.

“How are you so fast?” I ask. “How do you say those things so fast?”

“I don’t know,” he says, and he looks a little surprised, himself, but not shocked, just as though it was something he’s gotten used to. “I don’t think about it. I really don’t know.”

He has made enough reference to being demonic or fey that I am quite suspicious.

--

We get a little more time before he has to leave the next day.

He gets me so good.

I wear my cock and for the first time he really fondles it over my pajama pants and I can feel it so clearly with no suggestion from him, I think that if he does this for long enough I will actually cum from it, and he is sucking my tits while he strokes it and I am completely lost in the pleasure.

I keep dropping deep. Going, going, gone. Over and over and over.

Eventually, he is talking to me about how happy he is, about who we are, and I have been just permanently in trance, completely unable to stay awake around him as he talks, and I just resign myself to staring at the ceiling, listening.

He is not being particularly hypnotic except that he is so him at this moment. As I’m staring wide-eyed, I realize that my vision is shifting and blurring and changing, so reminiscent of what I used to do as a child, hallucinate for fun, make shapes and colors. I try to control it and find that I can, that muscle memory of the games I used to play with my eyes 20 years ago still there, but now here as an adult, and deep in trance. Something I have chased and now it’s here.

I say his name, and my voice sounds strange. “I am actually very deep. I am hallucinating colors.”

He is who he is and digs into it.

The colors twist with his words, his more sexual turns of phrase make me spontaneously see erotic shapes blossom and twist, psychadelic kaleidoscopic visions of a wet pussy, sex, tits overlayed on the panels above. 

He deepens me beyond, telling me that this trance is above me, and it is reminiscent of being under the surface of water. It sinks down below me and I feel myself go impossibly deeper. He tells me that he is there, and I vividly see him and feel him, the sense of us standing in a space together, holding hands, as though we’re at the bottom of a deep pool, light casting down on us, completely dark in every direction. I know exactly what it feels like to be in a place alone with him, the exact energy of it, and it somehow lulls me even further. I am completely helpless to this trance.

My thoughts feel liquid and strange, and I have no insecurities that they exist as trance cognition, totally altered from the way I usually think. Dreamlike thoughts, where there is no concept of what makes sense or doesn’t, except that I am able to think about them as they happen in a meta way and recognize it.

I think to myself, “I am so deep,” but it is the exact same thought as, “I am so in love.”

He walks me through a synaesthetic experience of the word “brainwashed,” the way that it feels, the colors that it makes appear. A light, watercolor violet and blue -- it takes me a moment to realize that they are the colors I used on the cover of my book. The feeling of it is all him, warmth, heat, depth, control. Intense. Pulling.

And then he tells me to process the same thing about his name, and I feel everything shatter and break, for once in my life fully processing exactly what his name symbolizes, means to me, makes me feel, as though all of the synapses in my brain that activate when I hear it or say it are doing so completely unfiltered for the first time. His name is the most powerful word in the world and I thought that I was able to feel that before and I thought that “brainwashed” was incredibly gripping but that is all nothing compared to how totally I am overtaken by this. I can vividly feel all the ways it has completely rooted itself, all of the connections and associations it makes, how deeply ingrained it is, and I am feeling it literally, not metaphorically, not abstractly, but of course all of those things too. My brain is exploding with it, flooded, chemicals and electricity and hormones all being released with none of the usual regulation, and I love it.

He is touching me here and there and I am aware of the pressure but can’t feel the touch. I worry briefly that I’m not reacting but I literally can’t change that, and that is plenty to relax the small fear.

He tells me he is going to give me five more minutes of this, and he is going to talk to me and touch me and be here with me for it. I appreciate the expectation -- somehow I was thinking that I need to get out of this and talk to him if we are going to wind down soon.

I do not remember what he is telling me, just the usual flow of his words, deep and cutting. My vision at this point is swimming and almost completely blacking out, and I have a slow thought of, “What if I am dying? What if I am going blind?” I am not scared, as though if this was how it ended I would be OK. I think of the phrase, “I guess this is how I go,” and the meme, “Guess I’ll die,” simultaneously, and it is a little funny, but I can’t laugh, and I can’t really process the feeling of humor. I also can’t process the darkness of that feeling of acceptance.

He is talking about us, and he is talking about who we are and how we are so beautiful and so destructive. He says something about there being a place for us, and West Side Story begins playing clearly and softly in my head: “Somewhere a place for us…” It is a little too romantic and sweet, but I can’t feel guilty about it. I think about listening to the song later and what that will feel like.

He says he is going to wake me up with a count, and I try my absolute best to focus on it, knowing that it’s really important that I’m able to wake up. I almost miss it, and some numbers bring me deeper, but I was also rising and on 5 I jolt my body into wakefulness, having to force it a little but also feeling like I was helpless to that.

I feel very strangely awake as the trance slides off of me, more awake than I usually feel coming out of deep trance, but I am in awe, even if I am less fuzzy and shaken.

“That is as deep as I have ever been in my life,” I say softly, but I am not exaggerating and I am fully confident of it.

He nods and holds me, and then looks very purposefully down at me.

“You would do anything,” he murmurs, “because you are brainwashed.”

I am pierced through by that, and I say his name reflexively as I often do, breathy and fucked, and the echoes of the way I responded to it in deep trance flood me, shake me.

“There we go,” he says. “That was exactly what I expected you to say.”

I blink and feel the delicious sense of having been manipulated creep up on me.

“I wanted you to say my name,” he says, “and I was thinking like, I didn’t want to just tell you to say it, I wanted you to do it organically, and it was perfect, and exactly how I expected you to say it…”

I am still completely wrapped around his finger.

--

We have to wrap up and as we get ready to leave, I think for a moment.

“You were touching me and I couldn’t really feel it,” I say.

“I know. You really weren’t responding.”

“You missed your chance to operate on me,” I joke.

“You haven’t checked your toes yet,” he says back, without missing a beat, and again I marvel at him, beaming.

--

We are outside, both sort of shaking and emotionally wrecked as I have one last cigarette before we take him back to the train station.

“Oh my God,” he says, staring at me, not in a way that is surprised or needs a response, just sort of, ‘What have we done? What is this?’

“I know,” I say.

He looks at me a little strangely.

“You’re on your knees,” he says, “and we’re at NEEHU, and we’re negotiating, and then you’re screaming…”

Describing our very first scene, 6 years ago.

I can’t help but vividly visualize it because I am so fucking suggestible and he is the fucking voice of my executive processing and my brain responds better to him than myself.

I feel very suddenly like there was so much in both of our lives that would have caused us to miss each other, to not cross paths, to not do this, each choice over and over bringing us closer to this and infinite ways to have not gotten here, and that thought kills me.

“Oh no,” he says to me as I cry a little right there outside my door. “I broke her.”

--

The car ride is stupid. We are completely drained.

He gets out at the station and I go and hug him and he kisses me.

“You’d do anything,” he says, low, and I go wide-eyed and hot before breaking into a smile.

As I get back into the car, I look his way and he mouths it again: “Anything.”

--

@hypnokinkwithmrdream

[youeverfeelcursed]

On the Narrative of Last of Us Part 2 (3/3)

So this should be the last part on the narrative but I’ll probably post more thoughts on characters, representation, maybe on some details of the gameplay that just made me wish I could design something like this and most likely a text on where do I think this franchise is going to. 

I will also check and fix the previous posts as I know there’s typos and some mismatched data and maybe some timelines confusing. Logically, it comes with posting at my 3am and working from memory and not notes. 

That said, lets just move onto what I hope is interesting enough for people to read these old woman’s ramblings. For anyone still reading, thank you very much for your attention, it’s been a while since I truly enjoyed analizing an art piece.

(Note: I’m marking this post for rechecking as I feel its a bit convoluted. I blame it being 4am.) 

We ended the previous Act 3 (Abby’s Act) with a overhead shot (or aerial if you prefer) of Ellie and Dina on different sides of the shot, close but separated with Ellie being bathed by a red light and both represented in a descending oblique line from Dina to Ellie. 

I find it a wonderful shot that represents Ellie’s story in few and simple details. 

(For those interested, the name in the screenshot is from MkIceAndFire a No commentary channel I follow, go check him out!) 

From here, we jump to what I called the respise intermission, a short part but full of important details for the understanding of the next and final act. 

Like a moth to the flame, or how living sometimes is harder than dying.

The next part of Ellie’s story is as bittersweet as the best coffee you’ll ever have. We find her reminiscencing over Joel’s watch on hers and Dina’s bedroom. Putting it away we get to finally hold in our arms the cutest potatoe I’ve ever seen: JJ! Jesus that child is cute. And it’s obvious that Ellie loves him with all her heart. 

During this time we get to explore the beautiful they both probably restored to live in, in which it specially caught my attention how Ellie surprinsingly gets a full room for herself, whereas Dina seems to have a small space in the living room , where the photo of her sister sits.

I loved this part so much but I could feel that something was wrong, and it is. If we read Ellie’s diary we find out that she’s having trouble sleeping and dealing with people, needing to hide and what’s most likely profound PTSD thats later shown with her breaking down after herding all the sheep. 

A detail that I found important is the fact that she breaks down while having JJ in her arms, which has to be removed by Dina in case she hurts him during her seizure. Because remember that for Ellie protecting those she cares for is very important, so, does she feel she can protect them now?

Stop for a minute and think of how hard is for nowadays soldier to treat PTSD even with psychological support and meds, and how many of those war survivors end commiting suicide anyway. Now imagine that same in a world where violence is constant - yes they live peacefully in the farm but do you really think they don’t have to deal with any straggler? - and there’s basically zero to none mental health support.

Thats where it is important to pay attention to the moment when Ellie is coming back from hunting, how she cleans her face and takes a deep breath and puts her mask on - an obvious referal to her words in her diary - just before going back to Dina and JJ. 

I mean this is not the face of a person fully happy, its the face of a person thats putting her best front but catastrophically failing her inner battle. 

Tommy’s visit manages to break any remainer of the mask she tried to maintain so hard. It is obvious how while he tells her how he found information about Abby that with every word she breaks a little bit more. The trembling, tight shut lips and her open wide eyes that look as hopeful as they look lost. 

If this were another world, one in which I believe Ellie could get help, I would have hated that she left. But she says it herself, she doesn’t sleep, she doesn’t eat, she has a full room for herself so she can have space and even so she leaves for long times alone. She’s not really living, she’s riding the waves as they come but never truly enjoying it because by now her trauma is so deep I would have been surprised that she stayed. 

Because when Tommy talks about Abby, she feels a light, a hope of being able to just pour all of this shit out of her. Abby is not even important anymore, shes just a barrier for Ellie for her own liberation from her demons. Or thats what she thinks. 

She truly does JJ and Dina, but she’s completely broken inside. She’s missing pieces and for her, this is a chance of regaining them. It’s not even about vengeance anymore, it’s about rest. An end. Closure. 

What comes around, goes around. Or how Santa Barbara was the so needed eye opening. 

I was truly happy to see Abby and Lev being kind of silly and well, happy. They are the example of how you can heal when you learn to forgive both yourself and others. A extreme image compared to what we’ll see from Abby next time.

Fast-forward to Ellie after leaving the Rattlers village. Look at Ellie, she’s slightly delirious - Abby, Abby, Abby, Abby... - completely battered, skinny, with a fucked up side, half limping and pulling through out of sheer desesperation. She needs to do this, because if she doesn’t everything she left behind - Dina, JJ, Jackson - will be for nothing. She says it herself in her diary, she cannot think of that. 

And it’s funny. It’s funny there she goes. She helps Abby down and follows both of them to two small boats where she makes a scranny and completely eaten up Abby battle with her in exchange of not hurting Lev. 

The battle is sad. Abby contrary to Ellie had started healing so she didn’t want to battle. But it’s sad, these two beautiful human beings battling against each other as shadows of what they used to be, eaten away by life, hate and stupid decisions. You just feel like being over it because by this point it just feels completely stupid to keep warring. 

And there, Ellie doesn’t kill Abby. We get a flashback of Joel playing the guitar that stops her from killing her. 

And it’s funny, it’s funny because without Ellie both Lev and Abby would be rotting in those pillars. She left her home to kill a woman and ends saving both their lives! Why would she do that? 

We end this Act 4 with Ellie alone, watching the last remains of her flame disappear into the nothing. Rock bottom. You cannot go down further. That’s what it means. She left her family, Tommy is crippled and kind of hates her, Jesse is death, Joel is death, Ryley is death.

 And yet she left Abby leave. But why? 

The answer to all this crazyness is in the last flashback of her and Joel and a few words that are thrown into the night. 

“I was supposed to die in that hospital. My life would’ve fucking mattered. But you took it from me!”

Purpose. 

Yes, purpose. A meaning to her life. A meaning that has been ripped from her hands multiples times in situations out of her control. Is this what she really wants? Her life to revolve around vengeance? Is this what she’s choosing? 

So for once, she decides for herself and she decides that no. She doesn’t want that path. It’s not enough anymore. 

Ellie was supposed to die with Riley, but she survived and found out that’s she’s immune. 

Ellie traveled from one side to another of USA to be the solution to humanity’s problem. To help create a vaccine, whatever the cost. She was ready for it, she was ok with it. But it was ripped from her and lied about it multiple times. 

Imagine thinking you’re immune but that it means absolutely nothing. After getting yourself mentally ready for whatever it would happen, you are told that you’re useless. That you cannot help. That you’re worthless. 

Worthless. 

She ends in Jackson, And learns she’s been betrayed by the person she trusted most, that she could have meant something instead of just living taking care of cows and patrolling. 

It was impossible for Ellie to remain the same even before Joel’s death. Because Ellie is a very complicated character made of survivor guilt, a need to have a purpose in life, too many personal loses and self hating. Not only that, but all of this happens during her adolescence, a time which is hard to deal already without all these traumas piling up. 

Joel’s killing is what makes the bomb explode. Suddenly she can do something, she can leave Jackson and she can revenge him. Again, purpose. She can feel alive because she’s got finally a direction. It’s just not the correct one, because we all know that hate is a terrible guide but for her, is the only guide amids the fog. 

Ellie is a character that has been lost from the moment she learned she could have helped humanity. Chasing Abby was literally the easy path to take to give some meaning to her life. 

When she was with her family at the ranch, I truly believe she wanted her purpose to be to protect her family, but it was something impossible for her to do in her condition. She tried hard, but she couldn’t do it. Her diary again sheds some light on these, on how she feels she has nothing else to give to them. 

We know that, if Joel hadn’t been killed, she could have healed given enough time. She could have forgotten him. She could have find a motivation in Jackson. But there’s so much you can push something until it completely breaks. 

I think that, at the end of the game, when she walks from the ranch she realizes she cannot keep going like this. That if she wants her life to mean something, she has to do it herself instead of just waiting for it to happen. And I feel I know which way she will take next and why. 

Although the ending might seem sad, I found it strangely positive. The circle comes to a end, the guitar that Joel cleaned in the first seconds of the game, is put down by an Ellie lacking two of her left hand fingers impossible, to play it again that way. It is an act of moving on, but not of forgetting. 

Of finally attaining peace of mind, and the chance of recovering herself. 

[whyamistillwatchingtheseshows]

Idk if you’re still taking requests, but i had this really cute kinda cheesy thought about MingKit’s 1 year anniversary and how Kit would spend the whole day pampering & loving his boyfriend bc even tho he might not be touchy with other people, Kit wants Ming to know he loves him just as much as Ming loves Kit

Three things were on my mind when I read this ask again. Yes, I read through it once, but then came back to as I thought up a way to work this plot. 1: Damn the SOTUS feels with that gear! 2: Chocolate covered strawberries. 3: I shamelessly watched a JoongNine fanvid and in it there’s one of those damn silly games where they have to hold an object between them. Joong lifts Nine into his arms [and I swear the little shit knows what he’s doing] and even before the object is being given to them, Nine is basically using his hand against Joong’s neck/chin the way I’ve already imagined Kit doing to Ming. His hand is there angling Joong’s lips to his for a “kiss.” Is this character bleed a wish granted? Is this glorious fanservice? Because neither boy is panicked well that is until their mouths betray them when answering the questions. For the record, not that you wanted to know this anon, but I think Nine has soo much queer energy [so I do imagine the little shit knows what he’s doing] and no one will change my mind about that. Forgive me for the rant, but the inspiration for part of your fic came from the source: 

Ming couldn’t believe he bribed an Engineer for a gear. He wasn’t part of that program specifically because it was optional for students pursuing an Engineering degree. The meaning of the gear shifted, more often than not representing an Engineer’s heart rather than being just a token of their hard work accomplished under pressure from a “hazing” team. Ming wanted a gear for the former reason, a representation of his heart now hung from a necklace that he was going to present to Kit as a gift for their one year anniversary. 

When they were at dinner Ming nervously handed over the little box. Kit opened it and read the little note. I love you. Here’s my heart for safekeeping. He only smiled at Ming and attempted to latch the necklace. His fingers fumbled so Ming jumped up and fixed it on his neck for him. Kit looked up at him and smiled. At the dinner, nothing was given in return, which Ming didn’t expect, but it did catch him off guard. 

Back at the room, Ming kicked off his shoes. He plopped onto the sofa. Kit sat with him, propping feet into his lap. Ming apprehensively pulled them away, but Kit wrangled them back. He pressed his thumb into the ball of Ming’s left foot. The boy let out the loudest groan Kit ever heard him make over the year and that was saying something. Kit massaged the left one for a good ten minutes, then he moved to the right foot. Ming was now laying down, his head against the arm of the sofa. His eyes were fluttering closed and soon enough Kit heard snores. 

–

That was the end of their anniversary day. It wasn’t a big spectacle, but the one thing Ming enjoyed seeing was Kit now adding the necklace to his morning dress routine. For some reason he always put it on before he put on a shirt and then he pulled it from underneath to situate the gear against his chest. 

“Are you going to get dressed?” Kit could see Ming staring at him through the mirror. Ming jumped out of the bed to wrap arms around him. Kit smiled. “I have an anniversary surprise for you anyway. So get dressed.” 

Ming raised an eyebrow but did as he was told. Soon enough they were in Kit’s car driving to a destination unknown. 

—

They arrived at the beach. The same beach where Ming first realized that he was going to chase after his now stubborn boyfriend. From the back of the car [Ming had no idea it was there], Kit procured a picnic basket. Kit sheepishly grinned at him when Ming leaned against the back of the car admiring him. “Surprise!” Kit playfully said. “A beach picnic.” Kit had the basket in hand, Ming in the other hand. As they trekked through the sand, Kit lost his footing, the basket tumbling out of his hands and Ming falling with him. They both cackled as they immediately felt beach sand filling every crevice possible. Ming had fallen on top of him. Kit looked up at those beautiful eyes that mesmerize him every time. Every day for the past year those big brown eyes filled him with love. 

“Now that I have your heart for safe keeping it doesn’t mean I have to treat you like something fragile right?” 

“You being fragile with someone or anything? Ha!” Ming snapped. “That doesn’t seem right, because the KitKat I know plays rough.” 

“Does he?” Kit ignored the nickname. Which did he prefer? It’s been a year and he can’t make up his mind about “Kitty” or “KitKat”- in reality the best sound was when Ming simply and excitedly said, “Kit!” Ming couldn’t get in another word because with impressive strength he rolled them over so that he was on top. 

Could they make out on the beach all day? Yes. They could. Kit aimed for it, but the passerby would probably gawk. Kit reluctantly pulled his lips away. Ming chased them back, gripping hair to “force” one more kiss. Kit didn’t want it to end but he escaped. Ming sat up on his elbows watching Kit as he grabbed the toppled over picnic basket. Hopefully everything was fine. So they had to eat with their hands because the silverware got sandy. Who the fuck cares? It was mostly finger food anyway, because feeding Ming chocolate covered strawberries was next on the agenda. 

—

Ming licked chocolate from his lips. He remembered when Kit had been too shy to even remotely share a drink with the same straw. Now, on a public beach he was feeding him. Ming couldn’t ask for anything better. This was the best. There was only one more strawberry. Kit reaches for it and bites off the leaf. He then puts part of the strawberry in his mouth, chocolate end facing Ming. He immediately bites half of it into his mouth, their lips touching a little bit. As they finish their bites, lips connected to share a strawberry and chocolate flavored kiss. 

–

Later that day, Ming become busy with a study group, leaving Kit to his own devices. That only meant he had a chance to decorate the room. Several hours later the bedroom door opened and Ming received a face full of balloon. 

“Happy Anniversary!” Kit exclaimed. He rounded the room. It looked like someone’s art exhibit as he admired the pictures of them on the walls. They were temporarily hung there, because Ming assumed Kit didn’t want to ruin the dorm walls. Still the gesture wasn’t lost on him. The gesture, in fact, made tears well up to the surface. When Ming found the last picture on the wall, it was a recent one. From yesterday at the beach. When the heat died down from the kiss, they leaned in for a picture. Kit would never forget the grin on Ming’s face when he surprised him with a quick cheek kiss as he snapped the picture. How in the world it came out a perfect shot baffled Kit, but he wouldn’t complain that much. 

Here’s to the old memories and here’s to creating the new. I love you, Ming, the back of the photo read. An empty frame sat on the desk. Ming could see the top left corner adorned with an Earth charm and the right held a Moon charm. He wondered if the frame was custom made or store bought. He didn’t ask. Either way it made him happy. Really happy. Arms wrapped around his waist from the side and his arm automatically slid around Kit’s shoulders. 

“Can I put it in the frame?” Ming sniffled. Kit nodded as Ming released him to work open the back of the frame and slide the picture in. He positioned it on the desk so that it can be clearly seen by either one of them if they sat there to study. Kit squeezed him harder. 

“I know it’s late,” he muttered. “This gift. I hadn’t finished planning it by the time we had dinner on our actual anniversary night. Then after that dinner my plans were stalled.” He joked and before a word could pass from Ming’s mouth, Kit pressed his lips to his boyfriend’s. 

Ming lifted him in his arms and to Kit it always felt like floating on a cloud. As if the ground were lost underneath his feet and he could fly. Ming pulled back a second, tears still threatening to bubble over. Some of them did and Kit wiped them away. “I love you so much,” Kit whispered when he leaned their foreheads together. Ming pulled them apart to regain composure, fearful that more tears would stain his cheeks. He pinched Ming’s chin and slowly leaned up for another kiss. As usual, the little shit didn’t lean down, so Kit was on his tip toes. He took the opportunity to jump into his arms, a hand caressing up his neck and turning that beautifully chiseled jaw to capture lips. 

Kit made a silent vow for the future to come: Whether it was an anniversary or not, Kit would find a way to show Ming how much he loved him.

[lightcomingthroughthedarkness]

I don’t understand how people can be so heartless to Bob regarding social media. I frequently take break from instagram and have deleted my FB and twitter accounts entirely, and that’s WITHOUT being attacked how he is. I can’t look at his mentions without feeling ill, and they aren’t even directed at me! People are so cruel. The relative anonymity and instant access of social media, when in the wrong hands, has in many ways made us poorer society.

I remember in the 90s, when I think, The West Wing did an episode about internet, anonymity and how the internet was going to be the thing that would change people's right to privacy up to the point of it becoming an issue in society that would change the way the world operates. Something along those lines. And we see it today. How the internet has changed literally every single aspect of human life. It allows people to contact whoever they want, say whatever they want, do whatever they want, treat anyone however they want and we never have to deal with the consequences. We leave that up to the person we targeted. Social media is also one of the leading causes of increased mental health issues. Not social media in and of itself, but what social media represents and what it allows us to do with it and how people choose to use it. Bob said it very well and he tweeted "Social media oft shows us the ideal life. Making us feel isolated, inadequate."

People feel hurt and angry because of the death of a fictional character. They've latched on to her, felt seen by her, felt represented and validated. It was a good thing, what that character meant to fans. A beautiful thing for people to experience. Representation matters. When she was taken from them, anyone who they felt stood in the way of them or who had a hand in her (fictional) death, became the enemy. Jason of course the biggest one. Bellamy for being the character who threatened CL because it meant Clarke would move on some day and not only would it be with a man, it'd be with the character who they saw was Lxa's opponent. So not only did Bob play Bellamy but from time to time, he'd express an opinion and if it was interpreted as "anti Lxa" in ANY way, then he too was the enemy. So now, people would "joke" about not only Bellamy but about Bob too. Though they weren't jokes. They were racist comments. They were disgusting attacks. I'm sure it wasn't even rational in their heads but they found excuses to rationalize them as "logic". "Oh, he said a problematic thing so he is x, y and z". "If Bob felt that way about a fictional storyline, that means he's an abusive asshole who hates women because he must then view the world the same way in real life." And so on and so on... First the fictional character they loved was killed. Then as the show went on, the male opponent started to become an even bigger threath, because now it seems like maybe he's gonna take the place only their fictional charcater should have. The hate, the attack, the ridicule of the male lead become MORE cruel. But, in a desperate attempt to have some control, even just a little, they start anti shipping. Because if they can show Jason that they love this other storyline, then they don't have to lose it all. They can still keep SOMETHING. Clarke alone. Clarke never moving on. Clarke mourning Lxa forever. Clarke ending up dead with Lxa. Their endgame in the afterlife would be better than any other outcome where Clarke gets to live outside of Lxa/CL. Because of Clarke lives and loves again, then what did Lxa mean? Why did they still hold on and mourn Lxa if Clarke doesn't? Their pain would then be dismissed and CL would be invalidated. And fandom wank continued..

But they still had Eliza. Who was their captain. Who was on THEIR team, right. She would never disappoint them and her choices in life would never go against L and CL. Surely, if Eliza was THEIR captain, she then must live her real life in a similar way as her opinions about a fictional storyline, right".

Turns out. Bob and Eliza are real people. With real lives. With their own shit going on. Suddenly we find out, Bob and Eliza are in love. They are married. Happy. They have had real lives all along. They've made a decision to spend their lives together.. and suddenly it's another loss. How can Eliza be this person? How did they misjudge her so badly? How did she, THEIR captain, fall in love with the man who not only plays Lxa's opponent but the man who, in their eyes, was anti Lxa too? It all keeps slipping through their fingers. What are they allowed to keep? What is left for them to latch on to? What can make them still feel validated? They lost their fictional character. They lost their ship. They lost the actress who was their captain. And in all of this, the thing they hate the most is instead validated. Bellamy and Bellarke are validated. It's like a sport. The other team "won". The anxiety, their inner turmoil and the anger they feel, needs to explode somewhere. Who is to blame for the emotional chaos they feel? What could they possibly hold on to, to make them feel validated EVEN JUST A LITTLE BIT? They find reasons. Bob is an abuser and a cheater. Eliza is a lying and ungrateful person, who only used them for her self gain. They are bad people. If they are bad, then they deserve each other and the only ones they can trust now, are themselves and the people who are their victims. ADC was cheated on by an ex. She is a victim now, because she would never support this relationship. She is the only angel. Arryn becomes the personified feeling they are carrying now. Hurt. Betrayed. The victim. Without knowing anything about these people's lives, this person was mistreated, like they were with the news, so the vicious attacks are now justified. The vicious rumors on social media become the truth. It adds to their suspicions. Bob and Eliza are OBVIOUSLY bad people, so the rumors must be true. And if they are bad, then they need to be called out and they need to be cancelled. The fans have the moral high ground and they are the keepers of truth. They now have the right to attack. To spread these rumors because it feeds their perceived idea of what the truth is. It gives them control back. Some validation. That they are not in the wrong. They have not lost everything they had latched onto. They haven't "lost" anything. Bob and Eliza have been exposed.

And social media allows them to do this. To wage war. To express their emotional chaos in a "safe" way. On the internet. Anonymously. They can be seen without ever giving up their privacy. Because no one knows who they are or what they look like. They don't have to hold in their feelings or DEAL with them at all. But Bob is the one who pays the consequences. He receives their emotional chaos. He is not only to blame for their pain but he is also responsible for what happens to it. He gets to carry their hurt and betrayal because they can't deal with their overwhelming anxiety. And if he deactivates, then he is running from the truth. He is weak. Obviously there is truth to the rumors. If he doesn't deactives but continues on as usual, then he is an asshole who doesn't care about the well-being of others. Surely, he must understand that he is the cause to their pain, so he must be destroyed and cancelled.

That's why they do all of this. It has nothing to do with Bob. They don't even know him. It has everything to do with themselves. Because everything I've just written has nothing to do with the real human being that is Bob Morley. Or Eliza Taylor. None of this is about them. At all. It is about these people on social media who use anonymity to express their inner chaos. Because if they don't put the responsibility on Bob or Eliza, then they have to face their own pain and insecurities. It's easier to blame someone else. So they do. And the one who carries all of this on their shoulders, is Bob. And Eliza. They can never win because whatever action they take, the people on the internet will make it about them. And their privacy is never theirs. Because no matter what they do or don't do, it's an personal attack to the anonymous people on the internet.