#Some people have even said that they never saw the Director as a sympathetic character until TDOPFLID

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

🍺 Jamie, we need the full unabridged Calico Jack essay you certainly have.

Ok so here's the thing. I've already made a lot of the meta about him that I need to make so I'll just link some and give you director's commentary. This is in reverse chronological order of when I posted it so my understanding of my evil alcoholic meow meow has grown more complex and nuanced the farther down it goes.

The full throttle Jack apologia I was on before the canyon materialized - I understand why this one has 7 notes and three of them are from me. I really do. However I stand by most of what I said here. I don't stand by my relative minimization of what Jack did do wrong (Being homophobic, being a bad friend to Ed and saying that they're not friends, Being manipulative instead of just warning Ed and letting him make the call about Stede). I think that what's missing from this little essay is that Jack is, as a narrative tool, trying to pull Ed back into his old life that he hates. His fundamental narrative purpose is to show what Ed's life was like back when he was shitty. Now I think from this perspective that Stede is just as culpable for doing that to Mary but it's not Mary's story any more than it's Jack's story so I am reading against text in this meta. However what you have to understand is that in may of 2022 when I published this thing that Jack was universally hated. I personally saw him as a sympathetic and wrong character where as the general consensus back then was that the dalliances he talked about with Ed had to have been non consensual if they were real because why would Ed ever have sex with a guy like that. Which is a take I have a lot of problems with but the main one is that it denies Ed agency to have sex with a guy that rubs you, the viewer the wrong way. So basically, I agree with this post but I would not make it in the current relatively Jack friendly climate of the fandom. Nor would I make it in a post canyon enviornment where the homophobic masc white guy apologia has reached a fever pitch just because I don't want to be associated with that. Also I'm a lot less charitable to Stede than most ofmd fans for personal, non jack related reasons. Also I want to make a note here that I should have made in that meta but will make now that I'm not saying that Stede is terrible and you shouldn't like him, my argument was essentially that seeing Jack as one dimentionally evil is kind of weird when you're willing to completely write off Stede's misogyny era as an oopsy. I like Stede. Most people like Stede. I stood alone in also liking Jack at the time.

Here's a much more reasonable strain of Jack apologia that I've settled on - In the early days I bounced back and forth between "he literally did nothing wrong except kill Karl" and "He's the worst guy ever (affectionate)" but eventually I saw how the wind was blowing on people who said "he's never done anything wrong" about Izzy and I was like, I'll dial it back even though I'm not throwing Ed or Stede (generally unless I'm also defending Mary B in the same breath) under the bus to say it. You'll notice it's pretty much the same thesis except for instead of being phrased as "Stede was out of pocket and Jack did nothing wrong and you're all highschool brained" it's phrased as "I think this is what happened but these two other things could also be the case and I would still like him. This is the clear role he plays in the narrative giving it to someone else annoys me." Also Beardy is what I started having my Jack tulpa call Ed before season 2. I've explained why Here on the @ask-calico-jack sideblog where I'm the mod because I got an ask about it and I decided to address it out of character. Also I'm Not Going Anywhere is a Jack apologia fic I was writing at the time which I have since abandoned. Basically I whumped him into submission.

My Evidence for Jack being willing to risk his life to save Ed - more apologia that I stand by. Once again I want to reiterate that in 2022 everybody hated that guy and most people still hate him which is fair and natural but enough people have come around that I'm now willing to ignore the haters because I have to fight with the people who like him wrong.

this was part of an ask game asking me what I thought about ships and I went off about Ed and Jack

I learned that Calico Jack was named after calico the fabric and I made this because I'm still on my Jack/Ed enemies to rivals who fuck shit - Not sure about Ed's skin here, is he too orange? depends on whether you're on desktop or mobile.

Calico Jack penis discourse - This one is integral to my view of the pissing scene. I love the pissing scene it's one of the only scenes of tv ever.

Jack is cute he would kill me for saying it but it's true 2 3 4

Brief asside that I feel like I have to put in and here's probably best: At some point in late 2022 early 2023 Jack stopped being so villified and people started to think he was kinda fun. After this the CJizzys attacked. I used to passively like the concept of CJizzy because in my head they were the worlds worst guys being terrible together. It was giving Izzy a pirate captain to obsess over the way he obsesses over blackbeard, except the pirate captain actually liked being a pirate captain so it was healthier than what he has going on with Ed, and also it was like if that one straight couple that are together but hate each other because she's a nag and he's a slob were gay pirates who partake in unsafe bdsm. Then a bunch of people started writing and drawing this wildly out of character CJizzy stuff and I got turned off of it completely because they would hollow out my favoriate little villain to turn him into the perfect white masc boyfriend for their little guy because they cant enjoy a show if there aren't masc4mascs in it, and now because of that I hate the ship. I just can't stand people giving Jack emotional intelligence without him being wrapped in a blanket and socialized by force first. It's not that I don't like woobifying him it's that you're woobifying him wrong and above is the way you ought to do it. anyway, onwards.

Anon asks me how I think Jack felt about being rejected by the crew - I stumble upon an interesting potential motive for him faumenting mutiny against Stede and potentially evidence for him telling the truth about having been mutinied three times.

Ed has a type - I added Frenchie in here because I'm a serial shipper and I stand by that decision despite Frenchie being different from Jack and Stede in most ways but I genuinely think that Stede and Jack are a very similar type of guy

Jack is not a frat boy - this one is me being a dick again but also I'm right.

Jack calls Stede slurs, this is funny - note that Stede also calls Jack "calico" as if his first name is Calico and his last name is Jack and that historically Jack was called "calico" Jack because some guy writing a salacious book about pirates wanted to make him seem gay so to me Jack's nickname for Stede is Fairy and Stede's nickname for Jack is Fudgepacker. This to me is both amusing and homoerotic.

Fic rec - What I think Jack and Ed were like as kids, there's a one paragraph meta and then below it a link to a 2k word fic

Jack has a type - Anne and Mary came out and I love them

Jack fucks - This has always been my take but I think there's a lot of people on here who thinks he doesn't fuck well and all of them are wrong, and more importantly, have not had sex with as many bisexual 50 year old alcoholic perverts as I have, so they don't know what they're talking about. Jack would try to sell me meth on grindr.

Jack and Ed are tragic actually - they could have been highschool sweet hearts who got married if Jack wasn't a little bitch

I am shipping so hard right now - my thesis about my pet 5 way

Aro cowboy pirate- Jack and Jim also have stuff in common

Jack has dimentions don't you dare say he doesn't have dimensions - Jack actually is sympathetic Ed told me himself and he also told you and Jack also says a lot about both Ed and Stede and that's the whole reason he's there is to say a lot about Ed and Stede if you will just listen to what his presence says about the guys you like maybe you would understand him like I do. (you general not you specifically)

and finally

my writing advice.

[majormeilani]

The thing is. Mafia boss is never treated as sympathetically as any other bosses. Directors are just some celebirdies and Snatcher gets BFF contracted. It is some mafia goon that clings to the ship and not him, and it isnt that he is there and he doesnt have a speaking role like Cooking Cat (unless im blind), he isnt present in the scene in any capacity, no one is holding his jar. Even in the cut cafe scene he is like HEY?? I DIED?? and no one gives a darn. He willingly causes harm like Snatcher EXCEPT Snatcher doesn't seem to hunt people outside, its fae hospitality bullshit but he stays on his fucking lane. Mafia Boss' backstory, his motivation is that he got bored so he invaded an island and At Most Charitable Interpretation mass deported its locals.

Fuck, the fact you can even offer the time piece is enough evidence that Mu is in the right but thats where we leave off!!!!

i'm not in particularly sure what post of mine this is responding to (if at all and it's maybe just a random rambling!) so i'm gonna try and assume this was something i said about mafia boss' character but if it's not what i think it is i apologize-

but if this is about how mafia boss' character doesn't get much of anything compared to the other characters, i do for sure agree. like i am not heavily invested in mafia boss' character myself (he's mostly just a funny bastard guy tm to me; i don't necessarily hate him by any means just what he did i'm not a fan of bc. i love mu gjsfjafjjcwjc) BUT i do think it's lame as hell that compared to the other antagonists he gets very little to his character and doesn't really have much a motivation for anything beyond like. being bored one day and maybe the mafia's population problem. and like, if we're talking cut content, he also had one interesting aspect to his character which was literally ONE LINE before his boss fight that mentioned he saw the time pieces a long time ago and for some reason the devs cut it? but left grooves' line IN about how he saw one a long time ago?? weirdly inconsistent and rather unfair. (tho that like mb says is canon in my mind still)

and yeah, everyone else is also treated as though they are worth sympathy too but he's kinda cast aside! which on one hand i'm like okay this game is just being silly but also it does make me feel a lil bit bad for him tbh.... even though i do think he deserved some consequences for what he did (like i think all the antagonists do)

i definitely feel really sorry for mafia boss fans how dirty his character was done and i'm honestly all for people giving him more depth too. unfortunately i personally can't say what i think about the depth of his character is for me because if i'm honest, i don't really think much about him as a character on that level. but it really does suck that he's usually treated as just the butt of the joke by the game and not taken seriously as a character (despite the severity of his actions and also what he ends up being punished with)

[hayleydirectium]

do you plan on dallas-ing daniel in the ddau?

There’s so many Ds in that sentence.

And…..nah, I don’t think I could do that in the DDAU. It’s just not long enough. One could even argue that I don’t think I CAN ‘Dallas’ Daniel, not even in the Descension AU. Daniel’s done far worse than Dallas ever did, and it’ll take a lot more to make Daniel feel ANY sort of guilt about what he’s done, if he can even feel that guilt.

…However, I won’t pretend that I don’t have plans for something within the same ballpark for the Twin AU. It’s not going to be the exact same thing (again, Daniel’s far worse and so it’ll take a lot more for him to even come close to Dallas’s level) but….it’s be a little similar, at least in the setup of ‘he’s stuck with people he doesn’t want to be stuck with and it’s not an ideal situation for anyone, but we’ll see what happens with that scenario. Also there might be a broken ankle and lots of physical and emotional pain involved, because I refuse to let him get out of this unscathed. He deserves pain and lots of it.’

[hwxnghyynjin]

Catch Me If You Can

Pairing: agent!jacob bae x serial killer!reader (ft. agent!kevin moon and serial killer!changmin) Genre: fbi agent!au, angst Warnings: swearing, gore, character death, injury detail, mention of drugs Words: 7,448 Taglist: @jeonwonhi @jasminexox

The streets in Seoul were always busy. Never was there a day where the streets were empty. Especially at night time. The streets were filled with reckless drivers, drunkards, drug addicts, you name it. It keeps the police department on their toes with the amount of people being brought in every night.

As much as they enjoy arresting people who have behavioural issues or for other reasons, there are 2 individuals that they have been looking for a few months now: Lee y/n and Ji Changmin. They’re probably the most ruthless and dangerous criminals in the entirety of Seoul.

The one agent who is most involved in the case is agent Jacob Bae. He’s been involved in the case since the beginning, not catching a break until he finds the pair. Every time he gets so close to finding them, it goes back to square one, making him and other FBI agents so frustrated.

He was currently at his desk, looking through some paperwork. Sighs left his mouth every now and then, the clock ticking in the background. His once hot cup of coffee was now cold, sitting on his desk in front of him. There hasn’t been a murder for the past few days, and everyone is getting to a dead end with the case.

It was only Monday morning and Jacob was already done with the week. His fiancee has been rather distant lately, which he doesn’t even know why. He had an argument with his parents, saying that he’s too obsessed with the case and he should quit his job and do something else. They’ve never been supportive with his decisions, saying that he’s disobeyed their words, to which he had a go at them for. 

He left his desk to get another cup of coffee, when he accidentally knocked into someone. “Shit, sorry”, he said, not bothering to see who he knocked into. “Hey, buddy, are you ok? No offence but, you look like shit”, the familiar voice said. Jacob turned around and saw Kevin, someone he hasn’t seen in years. Just seeing his face made his mood better, a smile reaching his face.

“Kevin? What are you doing here?”, Jacob said, and Kevin’s expression turned to realisation. “Oh my god, Jacob? You work here too?”, Kevin said, asking a really obvious question which Jacob rolled his eyes at. “No, I just like the coffee here”, he said, making the both of them chuckle. 

They both went to the kitchen and caught up after not seeing each other for years. “So, how’s life been going for you then?”, Kevin asked as he poured himself a coffee. “Honestly? It’s been going downhill if I’m being honest. My wife has been distant, which I have no idea why, and I had an argument with my parents about this case that I’m on, saying I’m too obsessed. I’m kinda having financial issues too. I have bills to pay and I’m behind on the rent. I’m struggling, man”, Jacob said, Kevin giving him a sympathetic look.

Kevin and Jacob both met at school in Canada, immediately becoming best friends. They were inseparable, attached at the hip. That was until the both went to different universities, and they suddenly lost contact. Now both of them are here in Seoul, reunited after so many years, working for the FBI. 

“So, how long have you been working here then?”, Jacob asked as he walked back to his desk, Kevin following behind. “Oh, I only started here yesterday”, Kevin said. Jacob sat at his desk, while Kevin went back to his. Suddenly, the director walked in, who goes by the name of Dongwook, making a ruckus, which usually means something had happened.

“There has been another murder”, he said, alerting the others. “The victim was 24 year old Lee Sangyeon, and his body was found mutilated on the side of the round. An L and a J was carved into his body, meaning this definitely was the work of Lee y/n and Ji Changmin. The murder weapon is still unknown, but by how deep the wound is, I’m going to say they were inflicted by a machete”, he said, pictures of them mutilated body showing up on the screen as he spoke.

Everyone was looking at the screen, some jotting down notes. Jacob and Kevin were standing next to each other now, no longer sitting at their desks. Kevin started feeling queasy, seeing the mutilated body on the screen, but he didn’t say anything about it. 

“Hey, kid, how do you feel about starting your first case?”, Dongwook said to Kevin, pointing at him. A part of Kevin felt excited, but the other part of him was nervous. What happens if he accidentally screws up and gets someone killed? Or worse, accidentally gets himself killed? He tried putting the nervousness away, not wanting anyone to find out how he was really feeling.

While Jacob, Kevin and the rest of the team were dealing with the case, y/n and Changmin were laughing maniacally while they were speeding down a highway. They hijacked a car, not caring if they got blood all over the seat. They didn’t bother wiping the blood off their faces, just wanting to get away as soon as possible.

They both left the car behind an abandoned house, walking away from it. y/n’s boots were loud against the ground, skipping along as she laughed. Changmin watched her in admiration as he walked along the path, swinging the machete in his hand. 

They both met in a bar a few months back, about a month before the murders started. y/n was sitting on a stool, drinking on a strong liquor. She had splashes of blood on her face, as well as blood covering her clothes. The people around her were not taking any notice as they were either too drunk to care or they just didn’t think too much of it. Changmin took a seat beside her, ordering himself a drink and striking up a conversation. They spoke as if they had known each other for years. 

An hour before y/n arrived at the bar, she was having an argument with her boyfriend. Something about her not taking her medication. She said she feels fine without her medication, not feeling like a zombie all the time. Her boyfriend disagreed, saying he preferred her feeling like a zombie and in control of her emotions instead of her going off on one. That made her really pissed, her anger starting to take over her as her boyfriend continued spurting out nonsense. 

Her eyes trailed onto a knife on the kitchen counter, feeling a murderous rage bubbling up inside of her. The words that left her boyfriend's mouth made her lose all control of her emotions, “I can’t do this anymore. You’re messed up in the head and I can’t handle it”. y/n didn’t think as she grabbed the knife as she stabbed him in the shoulder, making him cry out of pain. She continued stabbing him, his body falling to the floor as she got on top of him, blood spurting onto her face. His screams abruptly stopped as his body laid on the floor, blood surrounding him. 

y/n stood up off her boyfriend’s dead body as she dropped the knife, smiling sadistically. She finally felt free. She didn’t bother cleaning herself up as she left the house. And that’s where she ended up inside the bar. She was drinking strong liquor out of her glass while looking at Changmin. She noticed a menacing look on his face, the corner of his mouth slightly upturned into a small smirk. The look he gave was cold, but y/n liked that.. He also had blood on him, but not as much as y/n.

Before he arrived at the bar, he was at his parents house. His parents thought he was going there to have dinner with them, but the dark truth was: he hated his parents, so he wanted- no needed- to kill them. They kept bombarding him, telling him what to do. He found it frustrating that he couldn’t have a single day where he wasn’t bombarded with stupid questions. The final straw was when his father turned up at his house without telling him, barging into his home like he lived there. He complained about the area Changmin was living in, and nitpicking at certain parts in the house. Changmin was annoyed at his behaviour, he couldn’t handle it.

Changmin stood in the kitchen, looking at his parents who were now tied to a chair. They struggled against the restraints, crying out in pain. Changmin smirked at them as he twirled his gun in his hand. He stalked towards his mother slowly, seeing the fear in her eyes. Tears rolled down her face as Changmin aimed the gun at her head, about to pull the trigger, until his father screamed. “STOP! Why are you doing this? You’re not our son, you’re a fucking psychopath”, his father yelled, a hint of fear in his voice. Changmin chuckled darkly as he put the gun down and turned to his father. 

“Oh father, you’re the reason why I’m like this. If only you kept your fucking distance and didn’t bombard me, I wouldn’t need to do this”, Changmin said, looking his father in the eye. He smiled as he aimed the gun at his head, and he pulled the trigger. His mother screamed as blood and brain matter splattered everywhere, including on her face. She whimpered uncontrollably as she watched Changmin’s next movements carefully. 

“Changmin, please don’t. You don’t have to do this”, she cried, pain evident in her voice. Changmin sighed as he put the gun down, holding it at his side. “You’re right, I don’t have to do this”, he said as his mother let out a sigh of relief, thinking she was safe, until-

BANG

“I need to do this”, Changmin said as he blew his mother’s head off. He dropped the gun and left the kitchen, heading towards the front door. He opened it and left, closing the door behind him. And that’s where he ended up inside the bar, and where he met y/n.

Back to the present. y/n and Changmin were walking along a pavement, houses coming into view. Changmin hid his machete behind him, putting it under his shirt. Changmin saw a car parked in front of a house, meaning the house is occupied. y/n noticed where Changmin was looking and an idea popped into her head. She looked at Changmin and gave him a look, a look which only Changmin knows. They walked towards the house slowly, getting ready to start their plan.

Changmin knocked on the door, waiting for it to open. They both pretended to be fearing for their lives, making sure to look believable for when the door opened. A middle aged man answered the door, seeing y/n and Changmin. He noticed blood on them and looked mortified, but he let them in. When he turned around, he didn’t see the smirk on their faces. 

Changmin closed the door behind them and followed the man further into the house. They saw a woman standing at a table in a kitchen, who they assumed was the middle aged man’s wife. She turned around and saw the two, and she smiled a little before waving at them. They waved back and smiled back, and continued to follow the man. 

They followed the man into a living room and when the man’s back was turned, Changmin whacked him over the head, knocking him unconscious. The sound of the man’s body dropping to the floor alerted his wife, making her run into the living room. She saw her husband’s body on the floor, unconscious. She gasped and turned to run, but y/n was quicker as she grabbed the woman by her hair, shoving her head into the wall a couple of times, knocking her unconscious.

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When the couple came to, they found themselves tied to a chair with their hands tied to it, along with their ankles. They both struggled against the restraints, until the sound of footsteps was heard. They looked up and saw Changmin walking towards them, holding something behind his back. “Oh, I see you’re both awake”, he said with a sick grin on his face, making a shudder go down the couple’s back. 

Changmin kneeled down in front of the woman and just smiled up at her. The fear in her eyes made him laugh as he placed a hand on her knee, making her squirm. “This will take less time if you stop fucking squirming”, his once nice demeanour was replaced with a nasty one, gripping her knee, digging his nails into the skin. She cried out, her husband beside her letting out a cry of frustration. “YAH! STOP! You can hurt me but please, leave my wife alone”, he said, tears streaming down his face. Changmin stopped what he was doing and looked over at the man.

“How cute, you’re so protective over your wife”, Changmin said as he knelt in front of the man. “You see, being protective of your loved ones can go 2 ways. One, you end up saving your loved ones without any trouble. Or 2-”, Changmin sooned stabbed a knife in the man’s knee, twisting it, making the man cry out in pain, “-you get hurt and get everyone killed”. Blood started pooling out of his knee as Changmin stuck the knife in deeper, making the man feel faint. His wife kept screaming bloody murder, which was starting to annoy Changmin. 

“Shut up bitch, you’re hurting my brain”, he growled as he took the knife out of the man’s knee. The knife must have hit an artery as when Changmin took the knife out, blood started squirting everywhere, but not enough for it to kill him. The woman kept screaming, struggling against the restraints. Changmin got really annoyed and threw the knife, the knife flying past the screaming woman’s head and hitting the wall. “y/n! Are you finished?! This bitch is annoying me with her screaming”, Changmin yelled to y/n, who was in the kitchen. “Alright, alright, I’m coming”, y/n said casually as she entered the room, holding what looked like a syringe in both hands. 

“W-what are they?!”, the woman asked, fear evident in her voice. y/n just chuckled. “Oh, don’t worry. You won’t feel a thing. Well, it might sting and you’ll feel a burning inside your body but it’ll be over before you know it”, she smiled at the woman like she isn’t about to murder her. y/n walked behind her and grabbed her hair, moving her head to the side. The woman struggled against her as y/n stuck the syringe in her neck, injecting the fluid into her neck. “What did you just inject into me?!”, the woman asked frantically, her body starting to feel weird. “Oh, just bleach. The other syringe I have here is actually heroin I found in the kitchen. Which one of you guys is a drug addict, hm? Drugs can kill you, you know?”, y/n said while getting the other syringe ready. 

“You motherfucker! You literally just injected bleach into me and you’re talking about how drugs can kill you?! You’re fucking messed up”, the woman’s words started to slur towards the end, the effect of the bleach in her system starting to work. “Honey, I wouldn’t talk if I were you”, y/n said, Changmin looking at her do her thing. The man was still losing blood, as he sat there unconscious. 

y/n grabbed the woman’s arm and stabbed the needle of the syringe in her arm, injecting the heroin into her veins. y/n stood back as she waited for the drugs to take effect with the bleach inside her body. “Yo, is he dead yet?”, she asked Changmin, looking at the man’s unconscious body. Changmin stood up and went to get the knife he threw. He picked it up and went towards the man, and grabbed his hair and sliced his throat open. Blood gushed out, the man gasped for air. His body soon went limp. “He’s dead now”, Changmin said. 

They’re not sure how long has passed, but the woman started frothing at the mouth, her body starting to shake. Changmin and y/n looked at both of the bodies in front of them, smirking to themselves. They waited for what felt like hours but it was only around 15 minutes until they decided to leave. Suddenly, as they were about to head towards the front door, they heard a noise coming from outside, and a car door slamming shut. The two ran out of the house, opting for the back door so they could leave unnoticed. They managed to escape before people stormed inside the house.

While Changmin and y/n ran off somewhere far from the house, the FBI agents stormed inside with guns. They had gotten a call by a neighbour saying they heard screaming coming inside the house, and they got there immediately after the call. Kevin and Jacob were together as they moved further into the house. They went into the living room and saw the two dead bodies. “We have 2 dead bodies over here”, Jacob said, alerting the others as they came storming into the living room.

Dongwook stared at the bodies while one of the team checked them. “They’re still warm sir. They’ve been dead for at least 10 minutes”, they said, looking at Dongwook. “Shit”, he muttered under his breath. While Dongwook paced around, the dead couple was placed into body bags to be taken away. “Fuck!”, Dongwook suddenly shouted, making others around him jump out of fright. He wasn’t the one to shout so whenever he does shout, it scares people around him. “They can’t be far”, he said to no one in particular. 

As Jacob stood up, he suddenly felt dizzy. He stumbled into Kevin, catching his attention, as well as others. “You alright there?”, Dongwook asked Jacob, walking over to him. “Just felt a bit dizzy, that’s all. I haven’t been sleeping well the past few nights”, Jacob said, which is the truth. As Kevin stood next to Jacob, he could easily see how pale Jacob suddenly went. 

“Ok, I think it’s best if you go home and get some reason. You can come back to work tomorrow if you’re feeling better, ok? And that’s an order”, Dongwook said sternly, looking straight at the younger. 

Jacob left the house with one member of his team, following them to a car as they both left the scene.

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Jacob got dropped off in front of his house after he picked up his stuff from the FBI headquarters. His team member drove off back to the crime scene where they were previously. He got his keys out of his bag to open the front door but, as he went to unlock it, he noticed it was already unlocked. He furrowed his eyebrows as he opened it, going inside. Everywhere was dark apart from a glimmer of light coming from the end of the hall. He put his keys in the bowl on the table and put his bags down. Everything was quiet as he walked further into the house but, as he got closer to the light, the noises he heard made him feel disgusted. 

He stormed into the room, seeing his wife Lisa straddling a strange man. “What the fuck!?”, Jacob yelled, startling the both of them. “J-jacob? You’re not supposed to be home until later”, Lisa said, not even bothering to move off the man. “You’re literally sucking someone’s face off, and you’re more bothered about me being home early?! We’ve only been married for, what, nearly 3 years? And you’re already tired of me”, Jacob said, feeling angry, hurt and betrayed. 

“Jacob, you’re obsessed with a case and you haven’t had any time for me. I felt lonely”, she said, earning a scoff from Jacob. “You felt lonely? So instead of telling me, you opted for cheating? Wow, how pathetic. You know what? I can’t deal with this anymore. I’m tired and you betrayed me. You remember our vows? ‘Til death do us part’? Well, that was a lie, wasn’t it?”, Jacob said rather calmly, which frightened the two on the couch.

Jacob took off his wedding ring and placed it on the table in front of him. “I want you out. Now”, he said, his voice an octave deeper. His wife -soon to be ex wife- got off the man and pulled him up, leaving the room. “Don’t even bother grabbing your stuff, I don’t want you in my house anymore. You can collect your stuff tomorrow”, Jacob said, hearing the door close after he said that.

Now that he was alone, his tears flowed down his cheeks as he let out sobs of anger, hurt, betrayal and pain. He fell to the floor, the tiredness finally getting to him from the lack of sleep. He felt the material of the carpet underneath him, leaning back against the couch. A mixture of sickness, tiredness and pain came over him, making him feel as if he was going to throw up. He got up and ran to the bathroom, making it in time before throwing up in the toilet. 

After he finished vomiting, he flushed the toilet and proceeded to brush his teeth. He walked out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, now standing in the middle of the room. He stared at the pictures around the room: polaroids of him and Lisa from when they were 18, pictures from their wedding day. She was the love of his life and now, she’s out of his life, all because of a case he’s ‘obsessed’ with. A surge of anger came over him, ripping the pictures off the wall, tearing them up and hot tears of anger streamed down his face. Photo frames thrown off the walls, shards of glass going everywhere from each broken frame.

Clothes were thrown everywhere, covering the floor. Blood dripped from his hands due to shards of glass grazing the skin. He had the sudden urge to scream, so that’s what he did: he let out a heart wrenching scream, falling to his knees as he let all his emotions out. After he was done screaming, he got up and went out the room, going down the stairs. He went into the kitchen and grabbed some bin bags and went back upstairs, and proceeded to throw the clothes in bin bags. 

All of Lisa’s belongings were now in bin bags, being thrown outside the front door as Jacob slammed the door when he was finished. He then ran back upstairs and into his bedroom, and threw himself onto his bed, where he stayed for the rest of the day, falling into a deep sleep.

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The next morning, Kevin was on his way to work, walking with a spring in his step. The sky was cloudy, grey clouds forming above him. He suddenly felt like he was being watched as he walked into a dark alleyway, a shortcut to the headquarters. He soon regretted taking the shortcut as he saw two figures a couple of feet in front of him, Kevin noticing what looked like a machete in one of the figures hands. 

Kevin turned around, hoping to get away from them. He began to run out of the alleyway but, unfortunately, he wasn’t quick enough as he felt someone grab him from behind. A bag was thrown over his head as he thrashed around, trying to get away, but nothing worked. 

The next thing Kevin knew, he was being thrown into the back of, what he assumed was, a van. The vehicle suddenly drove away, making Kevin move all over the place. It was going quite quickly, Kevin was worried they were going to crash. “Yah, first of all, slow down, you’re going to crash. Second of all, let me go!” Kevin yelled. He kept yelling, which ended up being muffled due to the bag over his head. 

“Shut up pig, you’re annoying me”,  a male voice said. Kevin just did as he was told as he didn’t want to make them more angry, so he just laid there.

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

Kevin felt himself being thrown onto a cold floor, his arms tied behind his back. He tried crawling away but he felt someone grab his ankles, dragging him across the floor as he let out a yell. He felt himself be lifted up and placed onto a chair, his arms being untied and placed behind the chair, being tied again. His ankles were tied to the legs of the chair, making him unable to thrash around. 

The bag that was on his head was soon thrown off of him, the bright light hitting his eyes. He squinted, adjusting to the light around him. “Hello there, sunshine”, the girl said in front of him, smiling. Kevin looked really confused, wondering where he was and who the 2 people were in front of him, though he did have a good idea who they were but he wasn’t sure. 

“Oh, let me introduce myself. I’m Lee y/n and the guy over there is Ji Changmin”, she said, smirking at Kevin as his face showed a frightened expression. “H-how did you find me?”, Kevin stuttered, worried for his life. “Oh, you don’t need to know that. Just be a good boy and we won’t kill you”, y/n said as Kevin sighed, “yet”, y/n added on, which scared Kevin. 

“Changmin”, y/n called Changmin, which made him look at her. “You can do your…. thing now”, which made Changmin grin evilly, now standing in front of Kevin. The machete that he was holding before was now replaced with a baseball bat, which had blood splatters on it. “What are you doing?”, Kevin asked again, now feeling terrified. He tried not to be, but he’s never been in a position like this before, and he’s still new to the whole FBI thing, so he has no idea how to act in this type of situation.

Changmin raised the baseball bat above his head, and hit Kevin over the head, making him yell out of pain. He continued hitting him, blood dripping down the side of his head. “Ok Changmin, that’s enough”, y/n said, Changmin dropping the baseball bat as it hit the floor with a thud.

“What do you want from me?”, Kevin asked, annoyance starting to bubble up inside him. “I want you to call your boss and tell him to stop looking for us, ok? That way, no one else will get hurt. Well, I won’t hurt the people you love”, y/n said, holding a knife to Kevin’s throat, digging the blade into the skin, a little bit of blood trickling down.

“Why would I do that? You’d still end up murdering more people”, Kevin said, which y/n didn’t like and she punched him in the face with such force, the chair fell backwards. y/n crouched down and grabbed Kevin by the hair, pulling his head up to force him to look at her. “You better do as I say, sunshine, otherwise I’ll kill you, cutting you up limb by limb. You don’t want that to happen, do you? I don’t want to kill such a pretty boy” y/n pouted, earning a scoff from Changmin. 

“Ok that’s enough talking. Where’s your phone, pretty boy?”, Changmin asked, searching through his pockets. He found his phone and took it out of his pocket, turning it on. y/n untied Kevin’s arms and held him down, ensuring he doesn’t do anything to escape. 

“Don’t do anything stupid, pretty boy, cause you’ll regret it”, Changmin said as he handed Kevin his phone. Kevin’s hands shook as he dialled his boss’ number, putting the phone up to his ear. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. After the third ring, he heard a voice. 

“Kevin?!? Where the fuck are you?”, Dongwook asked, his voice filled with anger and worry. What Kevin didn’t know was that, on the other end of the phone, Dongwook was silently asking his team members to track his phone. “Don’t worry about me boss, I’m fine”, he mentally punched himself as his voice wavered. “Just… stop looking for y/n and Changmin”, Kevin started shaking as he felt 2 pairs of eyes on him the entire time, a knife on his throat. 

“What are you talking about? We can’t just stop looking for them Kevin, we need to find them so more people don’t get killed”, Dongwook sounded irritated by the request from Kevin, but also worried since he knows Kevin wouldn’t be saying that on his own back. “If we carry on looking for them, then I’ll be killed next”, Kevin said without thinking, and he soon hung up after that. He dropped his phone and the knife on his throat was no longer there.

“Good boy”, y/n said as she patted his cheek, making Kevin flinch. “Don’t touch me”, he spat and narrowed his eyes. Changmin didn’t like the way Kevin spoke to y/n so he grabbed Kevin by the hair, pulling him, earning a scream from him. The sound of the chair scraping along the floor could be heard throughout the room. Changmin soon grabbed his knife and stabbed Kevin in the leg over and over, Kevin screaming for him to stop. Blood trickled out of his leg, making him feel faint. He soon passed out after a few minutes, the last thing he heard was a door closing. 

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

The sound of Jacob’s phone ringing woke him up, startling him. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, searching for his phone which was still in his pocket. He looked at the clock near his bed, the clock reading 2pm. “Hello?”, his voice sounded hoarse as he answered the call.

“Jacob! I know you’re off for a bit but, this is an emergency. It’s Kevin. y/n and Changmin have him and he’s in trouble”, Dongwook’s words made Jacob’s eyes go wide and he got out of bed in an instant. “I’ll text you the location and we’ll meet you there”, Dongwook said as he hung up. Not even a few minutes later, Jacob received a text message with the location.

Jacob ran down the stairs and grabbed his keys, along with his guns, before leaving the house, locking the door behind him. He ran to his car, unlocking it and got in, starting the car immediately before driving off towards the location he was given. 

Not even 10 minutes later, he was finally at the location, which looked like an abandoned warehouse. Jacob seemed to be the first one there as he got out of his car, slamming the door shut and locked it, before running inside the warehouse. 

He opened the door, aiming his gun in front of him, and went inside. He saw something lying in the middle of the warehouse, which looked like a body. He immediately knew who it was and started running towards it. “Kevin!”, he shouted, hoping he was conscious. But as he was about to reach him, a voice stopped him.

“Well, well, well. Look who decided to show up”, a male voice said, which Jacob knew who it was. Jacob aimed his gun at Changmin, which made Changmin put his arms up with a smile. “If you’re going to shoot me, just do it already. Or are you a coward?”, Changmin said with a smirk, the sound of laughter being heard afterwards. “Oh, we definitely know he’s a coward, Changmin. Just look at him”, y/n said, now standing behind Jacob. 

Suddenly, the sound of cars were heard outside, doors slamming as more people ran inside. Dongwook was the first to run inside, his gun in front of him. “Jacob! Go grab Kevin, we’ll deal with Changmin and y/n”, Dongwook said, nodding at Jacob. Before Jacob ran over to Kevin, he shot his gun, hitting Changmin in the leg. Changmin fell to the floor with a yell as Jacob ran over towards Kevin. 

When he reached Kevin, he noticed blood on his leg and his head, which alerted him. “Someone help me!” Jacob yelled, one of his team members running over a few seconds later. “What happened to you?”, his team member said as they looked at his hands, which were covered in dried up blood. “I’m fine, don’t worry about it”, Jacob replied as the both of them lifted Kevin up, his arms wrapped around their necks before moving him.

“You two get Kevin out of here, we’ll deal with these two”, Dongwook shouted as they went towards the exit. As they reached the outside, they saw an ambulance pull up, and they headed for it. Two paramedics got out of the ambulance and carried Kevin to the stretcher, putting him in the back of the ambulance. 

Without hesitation, Jacob ran back into the warehouse, his gun in his hand. The sound of gunshots rang in his ears as he saw his team members and Dongwook tackling Changmin, but no sign of y/n. He looked around, trying to find her. He let his guard down for just a moment but that gave y/n time to come up behind him and tackle him to the ground. His gun slid out of reach, y/n pinning him to the ground.

“Make sure to always watch your back cause you never know what’s lurking behind you”, y/n said smirking before striking a punch, hitting Jacob right in the nose. Jacob saw that y/n was holding a knife so he grabbed both of her wrists before she could strike, gripping her wrists tightly. 

“I bet you like being in positions like this”, y/n said with a smirk, earning a scoff from Jacob. He gripped both of her wrists in one hand and flipped the both of them over, grabbing her knife and throwing it across the floor. The sound of police sirens were heard and shouting. “It’s over, bitch”, Jacob said, who was now the one smirking as y/n let out a snarl. Jacob got up, still holding y/n with a tight grip. 

Police officers ran inside the warehouse, running towards the two homicidal maniacs, handcuffing them both and taking them away. They locked them both in the back of the police van, driving away from the warehouse. 

Jacob finally let out a sigh of relief, knowing that they have been caught after a good few months of trying to find them. Dongwook stood behind him, putting his hand on Jacob’s shoulder, patting it. “We’ve done it, kid”, Dongwook said, a smile on his face. “You head over to the hospital to check on Kevin”, Dongwook told him, pushing him forward lightly. Jacob didn’t need to be told twice as he ran towards the exit, going to his car.

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

It’s been a couple of hours since Jacob got to the hospital, waiting for a nurse to update him on Kevin. He was sitting in the waiting room, anxiously moving his legs. Suddenly, a nurse walked into the waiting room and Jacob immediately stood up. 

“Is he ok?”, Jacob asked, his voice cracking near the end. “He had a pretty good knock to the head, which I’m sure was caused by a baseball bat. But, we managed to stop the internal bleeding so, he’s going to be ok”, the nurse said, Jacob sighing out of relief. “He’s not awake yet, but you can go in and see him”, the nurse said and left the room. 

Jacob went to the room that Kevin was in, and went inside. He saw Kevin lying on the hospital bed, his eyes closed. His head had a bandage on it, as well as his leg. Jacob sat down on the chair next to the bed, waiting for Kevin to wake up. A sudden wave of tiredness came over Jacob, so he closed his eyes for a moment, and ended up falling into a deep sleep.

About an hour later, Kevin woke up, squinting his eyes to adjust to the bright lights above him. He groaned out of pain, trying to sit up. The sound woke up Jacob, seeing Kevin now awake. “You’re awake, thank god”, Jacob said, earning a confused look from Kevin. “What do you remember?”Jacob asked. 

“I remember walking to work and went through an alleyway. I was captured by two people, who I soon realised were Changmin and y/n. I ended up in an abandoned warehouse and got hit over the head with a baseball bat. They forced me to call Dongwook to stop looking for them. The next thing I knew, I saw being stabbed in the leg a few times, and then, I passed out”, Kevin answered, Jacob nodding along to everything he said.

Kevin’s eyes suddenly went wide after a few minutes of silence. “Did you manage to capture them?”, Kevin asked, earning a nod from Jacob. “Yup, they’re finally going to be locked up for the rest of their lives”, Jacob smiled as Kevin sighed out of relief.

The door suddenly opened and a nurse walked in. “We’ll need to keep you in for a few more days, Mr Moon, and then you’ll be able to leave. We just need to run a few more tests”, the nurse said and then bowed, before leaving the room, closing the door behind them. 

Jacob looked back at Kevin and saw him smiling. “Why are you smiling?”, Jacob asked as Kevin chuckled. “I’ve never been called Mr. Moon before. I could get used to that”, Kevin said as Jacob rolled his eyes, letting out a laugh.

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

A few days had passed, and Jacob was sitting on the couch, watching TV. He was watching the news, hoping to catch an update about Changmin and y/n. The reporter on the TV mentioned their names, which made Jacob put all of his focus on the screen in front of him. 

The serial killers Lee y/n and Ji Changmin were finally caught a few days ago and are currently on trial. We’ll update you with the results soon

Jacob scrolled through his phone to pass the time while waiting for the results of the trial. He hopes that they get the punishment that they deserve for all the people they have murdered. A few minutes had passed and a live video of the trial was put on the screen. Jacob put his phone down and watched the trial. 

“....and the punishment for all the people they have murdered has been confirmed. They will both get the death penalty by lethal injection”

Jacob was happy with the result, hoping the family of all the deceased victims will get justice. Changmin and y/n were taken away in shackles, leaving the room. The sound of Jacob’s phone ringing alerted him, making him grab it and answer the call. “Hello?”, he answered. “I assume you watched the trial?”, the sound of Dongwook’s voice was heard from the other end. “I did watch it. I’m glad they’re getting the punishment they deserve”, Jacob said. “I also got some more news,'' Dongwook said, which gained Jacob’s interest. 

“A few hours before they get the death penalty, you have to talk to them”, were the words that made Jacob choke on his saliva. “Wait, why me? Like, yeah I understand that always happens before someone gets the death penalty but, why me?”, Jacob asked out of confusion, wondering why it needs to be him. “Because y/n requested it”, which Jacob scoffed at. “Ok then. Guess I’ll have to deal with the consequences after the interview”.

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

It’s a few hours before their death penalty, and Jacob is waiting to talk to the both of them. He’s standing outside the room they are in, and he feels nervous. What’s going to happen once he goes inside the room? He’s going to find out soon as the door opens next to him. He’s given the signal that he’s allowed to go in the room, the door closing behind him once he’s inside. 

Jacob sits down opposite the two, clasping his hands together on the table. “Hello there, sunshine. Nice to see you again”, y/n said with a grin, her hands chained to the table. “Quit the bullshit, y/n”, Jacob said, annoyed. Changmin rolled his eyes at the two, wanting this to be over. 

“Why?”, was the first thing Jacob asked. “Why what?”Changmin replied. “Why did you do it? Why did you two kill those innocent people? They didn’t deserve what happened to them”, Jacob’s voice was full of anger, but he remained calm, not wanting to create a scene. “We did it because it’s fun”, y/n replied, showing no signs of remorse whatsoever. 

“You think murdering innocent people is fun? How sick do you have to be to think that’s fun”, his face showed disgust and terror, anger bubbling up inside him. “Well, this all started when I murdered my boyfriend. I didn’t want to take my medication since it made me feel like a zombie most of the time, but my boyfriend thought differently. He said I was messed up in the head and wanted to break up with me, but my anger took over and I stabbed him numerous times”, y/n’s voice didn’t show any signs of emotion.

“And what about you Changmin, huh? How did this start for you?”Jacob was actually intrigued in listening to what he had to say. “My parents wouldn’t stop bombarding me. Kept telling me what to do, how to live my life. I couldn’t just live a normal fucking life like other people my age, I had to deal with my annoying, patronising parents. But, I did what I had to do. I took their lives from this world by blowing their heads off”, Changmin’s voice sounded hurt and full of anger. But that didn’t stop Jacob from being manipulated by them. 

“So that’s your excuse, is it? Your anger took over you both so you turned to murdering people?”Jacob had enough with listening to what they had to say so he got up to leave the room. But before he reached the door, y/n said something. 

“How’s Lisa, by the way?”

Jacob turned around and stared at her. “What did you just say?”, he asked, just standing there, frozen. “That’s the name of your wife, right? Well, she was your wife, anyway”, the both of them laughed as Jacob just stood there confused as ever. “How do you know I have a wife?”Jacob kept asking question after question. 

“That’s what she said to us before I sliced her pretty throat, blood dripping down her as her body went limp in my arms”, Changmin said with a manic laugh. Jacob yelled at that, and he had to be taken out of the room. “Just hurry up with their death penalty please, I can’t anymore”, Jacob said as he walked off. 

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

Jacob was waiting in the room above, looking through the window to see y/n and Changmin being strapped to a chair, people getting ready with the lethal injection. They attached a needle to their arms, which had a tube attached to the machine which had the lethal injection in. Jacob noticed both of y/n and Changmin showed no signs of fear or regret, they were both… smiling? 

After everything was ready, one of the workers gave a signal for the injection to go ahead. The person in the other room (who Jacob assumed was the person in charge) pressed a red button, which started the machine. 

A blueish colour travelled through the tubes and into their arms, going straight into their veins. They both started gasping as it began to work, y/n coughing while Changmin tried thrashing around but it was no use since he was strapped down.

A few minutes later and they were both pronounced dead. Jacob couldn’t hide his smile as he left the room, walking down a corridor, heading towards a set of doors. He opened the doors, not looking back as he headed towards his car. He got in his car and put the key in the ignition, driving off immediately. He never felt so happy over a case being over.

[valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn]

If the creative team for the Loki show had really wanted to do something bold, unusual and out of the box, they could’ve just made Loki the protagonist. I mean, the real protagonist. They could’ve allowed Loki’s thoughts, his feelings and his perspective to finally come to the forefront and finally be treated as important and to finally matter. They could’ve made the show sympathetic towards him. They could’ve delved in so deep, explored so many things. But they couldn’t even do that. Because they didn’t want to.

It makes sense if you think about it. Did we honestly think that they would devote a whole series to the one character that they enjoy killing over and over and over? The one character that writers and directors alike have openly admitted to resenting and hating? The one character that you’re supposed to “love to hate and hate to love” because either way hate MUST be a part of that equation because those are the only 2 appropriate, acceptable, normal and sane choices you’re given as to how to feel about him? I don’t know why we expected anything else.

I just keep thinking about something someone said, and I can’t remember who it was. But they said that this show is “a love letter to Loki fans” and I just can’t get over that. Are they f**** serious?? They spend the entirety of 6 episodes going out of their way to show us what a spoiled, weak, whiny, incompetent, pathetic, narcissistic piece of shit he is who couldn’t lie, manipulate, silvertongue, trick, magic or mischief his way out of a paper bag with a hole in the bottom. Whose family gave him sO MucH LoVe and it just wasn’t enough for him because he’s such a greedy, selfish power-hungry evil rotten no-good bad seed. This show actually had me wondering what I ever saw in him. Wondering if he really was nothing but a stabby McBackstabber all this time and I was just blind to it somehow. Was he really always this empty, this shallow and I just never saw it?

I feel you honey and understand your frustration, I think we all share it. I wondered the same thing myself at the end of the series, especially because everywhere I looked people seemed to love it, love him, and it was so confusing. Up until I came here last year I had a phase where I stopped liking him altogether and it took some time, and seeing the many wonderful takes in this site, to feel my brain start functioning again and going back to him. I gotta admit though it's not the same anymore with him, I still like him but... it's not the same.

The series is not a love letter to his fans, it's a love letter to his haters, the fans who never made the effort to understand him or see anything in him besides "evil guy who wants a throne". Marvel stripped him of his complexity and turned him into the most palatable character they could think of and of course they gave the haters what they wanted: he's evil, he wants the throne, people treat him like crap, plus a bunch of time travel bullshit and alternate timelines to make it seem like the series has a plot.

I suppose you're right and we should have expected them to do this but you know what they say about hope, it's the last thing you lose... 🤦

[lilacsandwhiskey]

Angst prompts 12 - Tom 💛

Choices

Pairing: Tom Holland x reader

Warnings: language, angst, not necessarily a happy ending but maybe a part 2 in the works, perhaps?

angst prompt from @your-fluffy-murder-writer

Tom hated the way he couldn’t lay down and feel comfort in what he was sure was the most comfortable bed in the entire city. The hotel room was seemingly too large anymore, knowing there was one less body occupying the room.

He swung his legs over the left side of the bed, his feet hitting the cool carpet. He glanced at the clock. It was only 11:02pm, but everyone else had already fallen asleep in the suite. He tiptoed into the small kitchenette, grabbing a beer out of the fridge, thankfully stocked by Harrison earlier that evening. He took himself out to the balcony, sitting back on the cold metal chair that decorated the outlook.

Tom sighs as he pressed the bottle to his lips, sweat from the bottle falling onto his chest. He’s quick to rub them away before setting the bottle on the tiny garden table in between the two chairs. His fingers fumble with the other side of the chair as he stares at it, as if the one face he wants to see will appear. But he knows it won’t.

His mind takes in the still bustling city below him. He knows if you were here, you’d be whispering softly stories you’d made up about each person that walks around on the street. “They definitely are on their first date.” You’d say at the awkward hand holding couple crosses the street. “She looks like she’d drive a Benz. I’d like to drive a Benz.” Tom found himself letting out a laugh through his nostrils, immediately feeling tears sting the back of his eyes. If only you were here to make those comments.

Tom wondered what you were doing right now. It took everything in him not to call you, for the first time sober. There was no doubt drunken calls had surfaced on the nights he’d gotten absolutely hammered. Harry would try to stop him, but Tom never listened. He’d shove his brother away from him, closing the door and locking himself in there. He wasn’t proud of it. It didn’t exactly help his pride that you never once called back.

“You’ll always choose it over me.” You cried. “Every. Single. Time. You’ll choose anything it all over me.” This wasn’t the first time this had been a fight. Tom groaned, pushing his hand through his brown hair. “It’s my fucking job.” “When will you realize that I know that? But you’ve changed. I haven’t even gotten a text from you in over two weeks. I’m not going to be in a relationship with a radio silent telephone. I deserve more.”

And that’s when you left. You had enough and you finallt chose your feelings over your own. You were supportive of Tom and his endeavors, everything about his job, you supported. It wasn’t until the partying and clubbing commenced more than usual, earning you not even a check in text. You felt selfish for getting upset but you also recognize that what the two of you had going on wasn’t healthy either. If he wanted it to work, he would make it work, you told yourself.

Tom was awoken by clanking in the kitchenette. The place would be home to him for the next two weeks, so there was no question that Harry had ran out to get groceries for the three of you. Tom rolled out of bed, not before grabbing his phone. Did he ever call you last night? He checked. Nope. Thank God.

Tom made the decision then to try to get over you. No response to any of his calls or messages was a response to him. With a shaky sigh, his feet carry him to the kitchen, only to hear the tail-end of a conversation. “I miss when y/n would make us those cheesy eggs in the morning.” Harry said, cracking an egg over the pan. “She’d always put the right amount of cheese.”

With a groan, Tom looks to his brother and best friend. “Don't ever say her name again.” Tom pleads, sitting down at the stool. Tom knew his whim of a decision to forget you would be more difficult than not. Harry and Harrison share a look that goes unnoticed by Tom. “Sorry mate.” Harrison responds, giving Harry one more look.

The rest of breakfast goes as normal as it usually could. Tom craved more than his breakfast though, and the craving was almost overbearing to the real food in front of him. He looked over at the stool next to him, where you would be if you were still with him. He imagined what this morning would look like - the type of morning you’d shared several times before. Your knees pressed into his thigh, feet perched on his own stool instead of yours to get closer. Your body would be turned towards his as you scraped your food off your plate, laughing among the people he loved so much.

One thing Tom struggled the most with, was when you decided to leave, you left the family too. Tom wasn’t sure if you still communicated with him, but there was no doubt some hurt when Tom had announced your break-up. You’d become so close to all of them, that you sitting here next to him in the morning eating breakfast would have been domestic. Your laughter would have lightened the thickened air between all of you. You’d crack a joke or two, pushing Harry’s buttons like you always did.

The first time Tom ever saw Harry genuinely get upset at him was when he told him. Harry took it the hardest - he had grown close to you. Of course, Tom had other girlfriends in the past that Harry had met, but he had never gotten so protective over someone like he had you. He was sure you were it for Tom. So when Tom announced it at a family dinner when his mom was poking about your whereabouts, Harry’s chair screeched loudly, a napkin was thrown on his plate, and out the back door he was to the garden.

“You really fucked up, didn’t you?” Harry hadn’t even turned around to notice Tom’s presence. He knew already. “Why do you assume it was me?” “It’s not an assumption, Tom.” Harry is quick to turn on his feet to meet his older brother. “You pushed and pushed her away. We warned you. She begged for you to give her a sliver of that reassurance you gave her in the beginning but you couldn’t get it through that thick skull of yours.” Harry’s words cut like a knife but Tom knew he was right. “I’m sorry.” Tom whispered. “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” Harry pushed by his brother, inside to help clean up before he was gone to their own home.

Harry apologized soon after but didn’t fail to mention that he was still pretty upset. To Tom’s knowledge, no one had spoken to you. But that wasn’t true. Harry was the first to reach out, someone you confided in. He was like your little brother after all, you’d spent a few years by their sides. Then everyone found it in them to call or message you. You had ran into Nikki at the grocery store. She spotted you down the aisle looking at pasta. You turned to see that familiar face, that familiar smile. “Y/n.” She said, before you opened her arms and allowed her embrace. She didn’t fail to express how much she missed you, which only made getting over Tom harder.

Leaving Tom was one of the hardest things you’d ever done. When you made the decision, it wasn’t quick. You lingered for months. You thought there would be a change that would snap you back into the relationship you held so dear to your heart.

The phone calls were fairly continuous for a while, a drunken Tom confessing he was wrong. You’d squeeze your eyes shut listening to the messages, telling yourself not to cry. Your finger hovered over his contact several times. But there was one thing you knew - you couldn’t say hello to him and risk another goodbye.

——————

Tom was onset for his newest movie - one about a girl and a boy finding theirselves back to each other after a rough breakup. It was a rom-com, something Tom had always been up for, but it felt different not having you by his side during filming. Though he’d had a rather great break, he spent the majority of it sulking and attempting to prepare.

Tom saw several familiar faces walking onto set, familiar with the director as someone he’d worked with times before. “Where’s the lady?” He asked, shaking Tom’s hand. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Harry’s face drop into a frown, attempting to insinuate that it wasn’t a good subject for now. “Uh, we ended things.” “Oh man, I’m sorry to here that.” The director gave a sympathetic smile before calling for the objective of the scenes today.

Tom felt jittery as it was determined that they would be working on the break-up scene. He stood in front of his co-star, preparing body language to show they were angry. His co-star looks to him, feeding her selves thoughts to bring tears to her eyes.

“You never cared, did you?” She spits. “You know I did.” Tom remembers how small he’s supposed to feel in this moment before the anguish begins. “You are better off without me. Just say it.” “I can’t.” “Why can’t you?” The woman is hiccuping through tears. “Because… I love you.” “You’re pathetic. You’re a liar. You’re lying to me.”

Tom recalls his actions are to become angrier with each degrading comment. But in that moment - he’s sparked. “You really think I don’t love you?” “How could I when you treat me like this?” Tom feels the tears rushing to his eyes, face turning red. “I would do anything for you.” “Then do it! Stop treating me like this!”

This felt all too familiar. A fight way too familiar. The actress is doubled over in tears, and Tom’s character is to feel urged to hold her and apologize. He does, tears streaming down his own face. If only he’d handle your arguments differently. If only his fuse didn’t get the best of him.

“God, I’m so sorry.” Tom mumbles, holding the actress close. He becomes aware of how it’s not you he’s holding. He becomes aware of how this could have been different if he would just listen. The scene continues with mumbles I love yous and a tired girl packing up her clothes.

Tom watches in the corner, real tears falling down his face as he remembers watching you sling things into bags. You had slammed pictures down on the way out. And he knew it was goodbye.

��And… cut! Absolutely beautiful acting, you two! Don’t think we could’ve had you do that better.” The director gushed. Tom was still fed with a lump in his throat. The director reports they can take five, bringing Harrison and Harry walk to the curly-haired boy. “You okay?” Harry asks, squeezing his shoulder.

Tom hesitates, eyes staring forward. “No.” He lets out. “I fucked up. I should’ve handed it all better. Why did I hurt her?” Tom knew people were probably wondering why he was unable to snap back to reality. But that was thing - that conversation had been a reality and it cut too deep.

“I’m in love with her. I am. I know she won’t give me the time of day anymore. But God, I’d do anything for a second chance.” This was the first time Tom had let himself really feel his heartbreak, and he knew it wasn’t the time. So like the great actor he is, he snapped out of his trance and prepared to listen for directions as they called for everyone back.

Tom made his way to the crew, Harrison following close behind. “Keep an eye on him. I’ve gotta call to make.”

Harry walks out into the warm summer sun. He’s quick to pull his phone out and go to the number he needs. With a couple of taps, the phone is ringing. The ring is broken by a simple hello. “Y/n? Hey! Got a minute to talk?”

[who-is-page]

Some scattered thoughts on Wolf (2021)

So some pals and I did a watch party of the legendary (affectionately derogatory) movie, Wolf. Here are some of my thoughts on it, and on things I've heard about it/said myself in the past.

To start things off, I went into Wolf expecting it to be how I saw most people in the WolfGetsReal Alt+H campaign described it as-- a movie that explicitly supported the psychopathologizing of nonhuman identities and species dysphoria, and which portrayed nonhumanity and adjacent experiences as something to be "cured." Something that got species dysphoria so wrong as to be downright offensive, and which insulted people who experience it every step of the way.

What I got was...not that. What I got was actually, in some ways, the opposite of that.

Wolf (2021) has a main character who sees himself as a wolf, but a cast of other nonhuman characters too-- a panda, a jumping spider, a German shepherd, a grizzly bear, a duck, and a squirrel, among others. These characters are all hospitalized in what's clearly meant to be an inpatient treatment facility, where none of them are allowed to leave (and supposedly the last guy who did escape DIED oooo, much spooky, very believable).

The "treatments" we see these characters go through at the hands of the two staff members working at the facility are downright inhumane and almost identical to a lot of the anti-otherkin rhetoric we saw in the mid-2010's, especially the ones that got into the territory of anti-kin theoretically abusing their own children were they ever to identify as otherkin. But these "treatments" are never glorified or portrayed as anything other than horrific and deeply unethical. The staff of the facility are clear-cut villains, no questions about it. There's absolutely zero sympathetic emphasis on them. (Even the mother-daughter relationship the female psychologist has with one of the patients is pretty blatantly abusive, if you ask me.)

And the portrayal of species dysphoria by the actors was, when not cringy from the director clearly over-exaggerating certain things (like the duck kid constantly quacking), genuinely relatable and heartfelt. Hearing the main character talk about how his body felt wrong was like looking in a mirror. He was easily echoing not only things I've verbatim heard others say about their mind-body mismatch, but that I myself have thought. Watching characters slink around on all fours, indulge in wearing gear, and engage in even stereotypical behaviors of their animals--such as the over-excitable dog character asking for headpats and immediately running up to the wolf MC with "we're family! Let's be friends!" type conversation upon their first informal meeting--was relatable and even sometimes familiar in a surprising amount of scenes they occurred in. Honestly, it was kind of nice to see those experiences showcased at all.

(Spoiler alert ahead in this paragraph, but also, getting to watch the main character escape from that place successfully with a finishing line to his wildcat pseudo-girlfriend, who was begging him to stay and asking how would he survive out there in the Real Wild World and etc, with "it's not about surviving, it's about surviving as me," also absolutely struck a chord in me, as both a nonhuman and a survivor of abuse myself--and I think that really showcased how, at least for the main character, his nonhumanity was never something to be "cured" but was just an undeniable part of who he was all along.)

The movie was definitely only 2.5 out of 5 star material, don't get me wrong. The pacing was janky, it's filled with plotholes that require a suspension of disbelief long enough to cross the Atlantic with, several of my friends pointed out that it's rife with ableist undertones (including the idea that animality is connected to trauma), and both the villain's one-dimensional-ness and the open ending were things that I know eyebrows have been raised over. And these are only the problems I caught with it on a half-drunken first-watch while shouting at the screen with friends, mind you.

It's not a great movie-- hell, I don't even think most people would call it a good movie. But it's not the earth-shatteringly awful film I originally assumed from online backlash, either. The idea that any of us thought this was going to have a larger effect on therian and otherkin communities is, honestly, laughable. It's a nobody of a movie and I can't help but groan at myself for ever thinking it was possibly anything more than that. I regret taking people's assertions about this film at face value without watching it myself first, in all honesty. There's no way this film could find any sort of even theoretical cult following outside of niche movie buff alterhuman circles, and even then. The movie takes itself decently seriously but anyone who watches it probably won't.

So take this ramble as you will, but that's pretty solidly my perspective on Wolf (2021): overall a "meh" film with plenty to criticize, but I enjoyed watching it and it did have its moments. I think a lot of the claims made about it were over-exaggerated, but I also recognize that people are allowed to have their opinions. I'd honestly say check it out and judge it for yourselves.

One last thing: If you're easily disturbed by what's clearly psychological and physical abuse and conversion therapy, then absolutely don't watch this movie. But if that doesn't squick you out too much, I'd highly recommend watching it with a bunch of other nonhumans and alterhumans; get a bit of a virtual Howl going on and throw some popcorn at it while laughing with friends.

[darling-i-read-it]

And the Woman Clothed With the Sun...

3x09

Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham 

Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist

Word Count: 3.1k 

Warnings: spoilers for hannibal, murder, dead bodies, nightmares, talk of children and having them 

Author’s Note: I really really liked this episode. I love playing with dynamics SO MUCH. I hope you guys like this? 

I used some direct quotes from the script so some things may seem familiar 

Official Episode Summary: As the search for Francis Dolarhyde (Richard Armitage) continues, Will starts imagining himself in Dolarhyde's tormented psyche -- and asks Hannibal for help with the serial killer's profile; a new woman (Rutina Wesley) enters Dolarhyde's life.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

Tag List (is always open!) : @llperfectsymmetryll​ @ericacactus​ @vlightning95​ @sweetgoodangel​

(not my gif)

“That’s the same atrocious aftershave you wore in court,” Hannibal said. He turned around slowly, acting as though he were not surprised to see you and Will together. The thin line of glass between the two of you Hannibal seemed so thick.

The truth was, you had never truly gotten over Hannibal. You had pretended to, for the sake of Will, but you had never really stopped thinking about what he could be doing. There was a link that the three of you had with each other that was unexplainable. You had started a new life. But your old one still called your name. 

“Hello, Dr. Lecter,” Will said simply. He was contained. You fed off of his energy to keep yourself in check as well. 

“Hello, Will. Y/N.” He stepped closer to the two of you. “I believe congratulations are in order. I apologize I couldn’t make it to the wedding. Alana gave me some pictures, to taunt me presumably.” You smiled. You thought about Hannibal holding the pictures of you and Will laughing, beaming at each other. “Did you get my note?” You nodded. 

“We got it. Thank you,” you said simply. You and Will stood close together. He had his coat draped over his arm and you held the papers from the cases. 

“Did you read it before you destroyed it? Or did you simply toss it into the nearest fire?” Hannibal asked. You scoffed a bit.

“We read it. Then he burned it,” you promised. He nodded. 

“And you came anyway.” Hannibal eyed you. “I’m surprised you let that happen.” 

“We all falter in some ways,” you said simply. 

“I want you to help me, Dr. Lecter,” Will said to break the conversation. He still didn't trust Hannibal with you. Reminiscent of the days you used to work with Hannibal.

“Yes I thought so. Are we no longer on a first-name basis?” Hannibal asked. 

“I’m more comfortable the less personal we are,” Will said. Hannibal looked over at you, eyeing your entire body. He made note of the scent. The scent off of both of you. 

“Your hands are rough Will. I smell dogs and pine and oil beneath that shaving lotion.” He looked at you. “Did you steal that perfume from my home?” he questioned. You stiffened. You had gotten some perfume from his home as they cleaned it out. You ended up liking and buying another bottle over the years.

“I’m here about Chicago and Buffalo. You’ve read about it, I’m sure,” Will said. 

“I’ve read the papers. I can’t clip them. They won’t let me have scissors, of course. You want to know how he’s choosing them,” Hannibal commented. You held up the case file. 

“Thought you might have some ideas.” 

“You just came here to look at me. Came to get the old scent again. Why don't you just smell yourself Will? Or your wife?” Will let out a sigh. 

“I expected more of you, doctor. That routine is old hat.” Hannibal nodded stiffly.

“Whereas you are new people,” Hannibal said. “Let me have the file. An hour, and we can discuss it like old times.” You nodded happily at that, pleased he would help. You shoved the file through the document tray and into the cell. Hannibal came close to collect it. 

“Thank you,” Will muttered.

“Family values may have declined over the last century, but we still help our families when we can.” He took the papers. “You’re both family.” 

Will grabbed you around the waist, eager to leave. Your eyes lingered on Hannibal’s for a moment longer before you and Will left the room, swallowing his true words. 

-

You looked around Alana’s office. You hadn’t seen it since she had moved in. It looked better than when Chilton had run it. Perhaps that was just because you liked Alana more. The problems you once had with each other had mostly scabbed over. She was maid of honor at your wedding. Interesting, considering the fact you had once fought feverishly over Hannibal.

“It’s good to see you looking well. But I can’t help wishing you weren’t here,” Alana said. She sat on her couch. Her suit was pristine, her hair perfect. You admired her. 

“You aren’t the only one,” you commented. 

“I was surprised Jack came back in one piece,” she said. You nodded, running a hand over your pants before sitting down on the couch beside her. Will stood up, looking out the window. 

“You weren’t the only one,” Will said, turning to both of you. 

“How did it feel to see him again?” she questioned. You looked at the ground. Will sat down beside you, in between you and Alana. 

“Like Hannibal was looking through to the back of my skull. Felt like a fly flitting around in there. I had the absurd feeling that he walked out with me. Had to stop outside the doors and look around, make sure it was just Y/N,” Will commented. 

“I know that feeling. At least Jack Crawford’s pleased.” You pursed your lips but stayed quiet. 

“He showed me pictures of the families. I looked at Y/N and couldn’t say no,” he argued.

“Damn my presence,” you joked softly. Will slung his arm around the couch behind you, his fingered brushing your shoulder. 

“And Jack was counting on it.” 

“Are you still with Margot?” you asked, eager to change the subject. She took a deep breath and nodded, thinking fondly of her wife. 

“Yes. We have a baby. A Verger baby. A son,” she said. You smiled. You and Will had talked about kids. You wanted one. You were working for one when Jack spiked both yours and Will’s stress levels. 

“Good for Margot,” Will said.

“Good for me. I carried him. He’s my son. He’s the Verger heir.” You smiled. 

“Then what are you doing here? You’re set for life,” you pointed out. 

“There are only five doors between Hannibal and the outside. And I have the keys to every one of them,” she said. A daily ‘gotcha’ to Hannibal. Will admired that. “Hannibal has never been great with boundaries. ‘He who sups with the Devil needs a long spoon’.” 

“I am not letting him in, Alana. Don’t worry about me,” Will said. She looked at you sympathetically. 

“Last time, it didn't’ end with you Will.” 

-

“I want you to stay here,” Will said, standing outside Hannibal’s cell door. He hadn’t stepped inside yet. Hannibal could not see him. You scoffed.

“We’ve been over this. I follow you, even if you say no.”

“This time, I mean it. I think I’ll get more out of him if he isn't’ distracted with you.” You raised an eyebrow.

“You sure you aren’t jealous?” He gave you a look. “Fine, fine. Please be quick.” 

Will stepped into the room, leaving you outside to wait. Hannibal looked up at him from his desk.

“This is a very shy boy, Will. I’d love to meet him,” Hannibal said. He looked around. “Just us?” 

Will nodded.

“Just us.” 

“Have you considered the possibility that he’s disfigured? Or that he may believe he’s disfigured?” Hannibal asked. 

“That’s interesting.”

“That’s not interesting. You thought of that before.” Will nodded. 

“He smashed all the mirrors in the houses, not just enough to get the pieces he wanted. The shards are set so he can see himself. In their eyes. Mrs. Jacobi and Mrs. Leeds. And their families,” Will said. Hannibal pulled out the picture of a dead Mrs. Jacobi. 

“Could you see yourself in their eyes, Will? Killing them all?” 

Will instantly regretted leaving you outside. 

The two boys imagined themselves in the crime scenes, looking across the dead bodies of the families. 

“The first small bond to the killer itches and stings like a leech,” Hanibal said. “Like you, Will, he needs a family to escape what’s inside him.” Wills head shot up but he did not look at Hannibal. “You know a fair amount about how these families died. How they lived is how he chooses them.”

“How is he choosing them?” Will asked.

“I was surprised to hear you actually married Y/N. Not because I thought you weren’t a match made in heaven but it made more sense for you to start a family from scratch. No one that had even an inkling of me in their eyes. Find a mom with a stepson or daughter, not having to breed. You know better than to pass the terrible traits that you fear the most,” Hannibal said. Will did not look at him. Hannibal continued. “But Y/N wants children with you. How will you stand to look at a child you may have ruined before they were even born?” 

Will desperately wished he hadn’t left you outside. 

“Why are there no descriptions of the grounds? I see floor plans, diagrams of the rooms where the deaths occured, no mention of the grounds. What were the yards like?” Hannibal continued, satisfied with how he had shaken Will’s personal life. 

“Big, fenced, with trees. Why?” 

“If this pilgrim feels a special relationship with the moon, he might like to go outside and look at it before he tidies himself up. If one were nude, say, it would be better to have outdoor privacy for that sort of thing. One must show some consideration for the neighbors, hmmm? Have you ever seen blood in the moonlight, Will?” 

Will suddenly saw himself in place of the killer, naked, drenched in pitch black blood. 

Will snapped back and nodded quickly.

“Thank you Dr. Lecter,” he said before stumbling out of the door. You sat on the outside in one of the waiting chairs. Will looked over at you and seemed to relax but not completely. 

“Will?” 

He grabbed you and you stood up quickly, hugging him tightly. He buried his head in your neck and you let him, rubbing your back.

“This is why you don’t go without me places,” you muttered. He scoffed but his breathing was already evening again. “What did he say?” He moved back and shook his head softly.

“We’ll talk about it later. I want to see the backyards.” You raised an eyebrow.

“Alright, I suppose.” 

He walked out of the asylum, holding your hand tightly. Freddie snapped a couple pictures from the bushes.

-

“Have you come to wag your finger?” Hannibal asked as Alana entered the room behind him. 

“I love a good finger-wagging.”

“Yes, you do. How is Margot?” Alana ignored the remake as she gleaned down at the picture of her as Botticelli’s Fortitude.

“Your cogs are turning, Hannibal. I can hear them clicking.”

“Click, click, click, boom,” he whispered. 

“I don’t know what you’re planning with the Grahams. But you’re planning something. Why wouldn’t you be? You’ve already cracked the lid, can’t resist peeling it back.” 

Hannibal pursed at the name. Alana noticed this. 

“You can’t comment on her last name anymore you know. They’re married. She is, in the eyes of the law, a Graham now.” Hannibal stiffened.

“They came to me,” Hannibal said, ignoring her words.

“Yes, they did.” 

“I advised them against it.”

“I’m sure.” 

“Are you suggesting I don’t have Y/N and Will’s best interests in mind?” he asked. Alana scoffed.

“I’m stating it as a fact.”

-

You stepped into the room with Hannibal’s cage. He looked up, quite surprised to see you. You held your purse in both hands, stepping closer to the cage. 

“Hello love,” he said quietly. You let his words fall off of you like rain. They stayed for a moment, dripping down your arm before hitting the ground. “I don’t imagine you’re here to talk about the murder cases.” You shook your head softly. He walked up to the glass quietly. You stepped close to it, so you were really only a couple of inches apart. 

“I came to yell at you,” you said. He raised an eyebrow.

“Whatever for?” You smiled gently and shrugged.

“Lots of things. Firstly, you didn’t kill Jack when you got the chance. I’ll never forgive you for not feeding him to me in soup.” His eyes went wide.

“Careful Y/N. Alana watches these tapes.” 

“She would probably agree with me.” You took a deep breath. “Secondly, not coming to my wedding. I know you were otherwise indisposed but I thought it was rather rude.” 

“I thought it was rude of you to get married.” You shook your head playfully. The same banter. Joking with a cannibal serial killer. Just another Tuesday.

“Third, I told you to leave.” The air seemed to calm. 

“Does Will know you’re here?” 

“No. I didn’t tell him.” 

“Did he tell you he’s scared of his own children?” You raised a finger, shaking it gently. 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Will is no longer my boyfriend I dated a couple of months. He’s my husband. You can’t wedge yourself between us no matter how hard you try.” You wanted to put your hand against the glass but you didn’t. “But I miss you.”

“Where do you work nowadays?” You shrugged.

“I had to get another secretary job but I’ve mostly worked up enough to take this amount of leave. My last employer wasn’t exactly the best reference.” He laughed. 

“I suppose you’re right.” He paused. “Eating well?” 

“Better. No people in the diet these days.” 

“Pity.” 

-

“Will!” You broke Will out of his thoughts. You were standing in the back of the Jacobi house. Will had just found a small sign on one of the trees. He was about to get into it but you had broken him out of his mind. “It’s Freddie.” 

Will walked out from the trees and shoved his hands in his pockets. 

“Now are you just keeping America clean or is that evidence?” Freddie asked. 

“You’re trespassing, Freddie,” Will said sternly.

“I was trespassing before the blood dried.  When did they call you? Interesting to see The Bloody Valentines back at action. Beautiful ceremony by the way.”

“We aren’t talking to you,” Will said, grabbing your arm. You followed him.

“We’re co conspirators, Will. I did for you and your cause.”

“You didn’t die enough. You came into my hospital room while I was asleep. You flipped back the sheets and shot a picture of my temporary colostomy bag,” Will said, turning to her. 

  “Covered your junk with a black box. A big black box. You’re welcome,” she said.

“Justly so,” you argued carefully. 

“You culled us the ‘murder threesome’. Little crude, don't you think?” 

“You did run off to Europe together. Doesn’t help that the two of you ended up getting married. How does the Tooth Fairy compare to Hannibal Lecter? Haven’t seen anything like this since the Massacre at Muskrat Farm. Funny thing about that massacre. Not only did Dr. Bloom survived, she got rich. Lecter’s living in the lap under her care. What kind of arrangement you suppose they have?” Freddie asked. 

“A complicated one,” you said sternly. 

“Couldn’t be more complicated than your relationship with Hannibal. Both of you. You paid him a visit? Before you lie, know that I know that you did,” she said quickly.

“Good-bye Freddie.”

-

“I read your note before my office forwarded it to the Grahams,” Jack said, standing in front of Will. Hannibal swallowed, understanding. 

“To whet their appetite or yours? You’ve placed him back in the pot and you’re letting him cook.”

“We’re all in this stew together.” 

“Arguable considering how close Y/N is to drowning you.” 

-

You stepped into the hotel room where Will was already sitting on the bed. You ran a hand through your hair and let the chilly cold wash over you as you entered the warm room. 

“How are the dogs?” he asked.

“Good. The dog sitters said they were missing us but other than that, they’re okay,” you promised. You looked down at the dog that was laying on the ground beside the bed. “She’ll be right at home with them.” 

You sat on the bed and Will sat up, putting his arms around you from behind. You smiled about him, happy to see he was feeling better.

“I’m worried about the kids,” he whispered.

“The kids who don’t exist?” He laughed gently.

“Yeah. I don’t want them to end up like me.” You nodded slowly.

“So that’s what Hannibal said that got you worked up.” You took in the information. “If the kid isn’t like you I don’t think I’d be able to love them as much as I love you.” 

It was his turn to take in the information. 

“You’re just saying that.”

“Nope. I’m serious. I’ve never loved anyone as much as I’ve had the pleasure of loving you Mr. Graham.” He kissed your neck gently and smiled to himself. 

“I love you too Mrs. Graham.”

You let out a small sigh of relief. 

 -

Will screamed as he sat up quickly, sweating aggressively, blankets flying. You got up just as quickly, turning to him but he had already gotten up, rushing into the bathroom. You followed him, sleep that had just taken you over long gone. 

You practically ran up to him. He was looking at himself in the mirror, fear in his eyes at his reflection. You grabbed him quickly and he turned to you, wrapping his arms around you. You didn’t speak. You didn’t ask questions. You just held him as close as you could get him.

Nightmares had come back. Neither of you had had those in a while. You rubbed his back and let him breath. 

3x10

[mademoiselleseraph]

Do I really think this would make Catherine better or do I just want it to be more like Perfect Blue?

AU where Vincent is an aspiring actor still trying to make it big at age 32. He has talent, dammit, but he never seems to get the right auditions at the right times. He's lost more than one job over prioritizing his potential acting career and is lucky that Orlando got him a job with a little more leeway at his workplace.

He does love Katherine-with-a-K, but he'd be lying if he said their relationship wasn't beneficial to him and his ability to chase his dreams. She's paid his bills a few times and she honestly doesn't mind if she'll pay his bills for the rest of their lives, she just wants something to show for it. And honestly, it's worrying that he wants to do something where so much can go wrong and he isn't even insured. Katherine herself got into fashion by designing otokoyaku costumes for stories that would make great Takarazuka shows when the should have been studying. The first conversation they had was about the performance arts. She wouldn't ask him to give up his dream but would it kill him to be more realistic?

The first night out with the guys we see has Vincent tell them that he went to audition for Romeo in a production of Romeo and Juliet. But they were hoping for someone younger and prettier so he read for the part of Paris instead. When Toby admits he didn't actually read it in school, Jonny explains that Paris is the romantic rival. Vincent scoffs at this, objecting that Paris is the one Juliet doesn't want to marry, and would rather die than marry. Toby responds with a sympathetic "ouch."

When the mysterious Catherine-with-a-C shows up she makes a point to mention that she has connections. Helpful connections.

And after waking up with her in his bed and no memory of how she got there, he gets a call from the theatre company. They went with someone else and he apologizes for wasting their time but the director on the other end says their sister company is casting Hamlet and they put in a good word for him as the title character. It would suit him much better than Paris. He thanks them profusely and writes down the address and time so he can make it. He'll have to cancel plans with his actual girlfriend Katherine, but she'll understand.

You don't get suggested for Hamlet after being a Paris so sub-par you don't even get a call-back. It just doesn't happen. Something's fishy here. And yet... maybe that girl had something to do with it. She did have connections, didn't she?

And so it goes. Vincent goes home and passes out after a night at the bar, seeing the same girl every night. He finds himself exposed, clawing his way to the top of a shaky tower. He can't stop or get too comfortable or it will fall from underneath his feet. Sometimes he has to push others down to get there. He wakes up next to that girl he can't remember saying yes to or inviting home and he finally starts actually landing the roles he tries for in tv and film. They're not leads, but the characters are named and have a good amount lines and personality.

Jonny mentions that his girlfriend is an opera singer, and discusses plot points in Faust, her current production, with Vincent, who studied Goethe's version of the tale in college. They talk about nude witches and smutty metaphores involving apple trees, and of course, the betting of one's soul.

Toby describes Vincent chasing his dreams as inspiring. Vincent wonders at what point does inspiring mean desperate and pathetic, but in a cute way.

Erica and Vincent were in a Greek tragedy club in high school that cast the characters "the traditional way" and Vincent remembers taking the role of Jason in Euripides' Medea so Erica could play the title role. He jokes that she didn't seem offended at them letting her perform and she says they just weren't used to girls that looked like her then.

Two questions relevant to Vincent's role as Hamlet show up in the confessional. One is "who's responsible for the king's death?" The answers presented are Claudius, which leans toward order and Gertrude, which leans toward chaos. The other goes "Did Hamlet have a hand in Ophelia's demise?" The answer "he's not guiltless" leans toward order and the answer "it's not his fault she's sick" leans toward chaos.

The best ending for Catherine-with-a-C involves everyone at the bar wondering what happened to Vincent and catching a news story on the tv that he's set up to become a star like few others after showing up out of nowhere and landing roles that should have conflicting schedules left and right. He sounds like a pig in the interview, saying it's all about the connections and sometimes connections have nice legs and a waist you can wrap your hands around and that he's not looking for love but child support would take care of itself if his career keeps up like this. Everyone shares their disdain, hates his shades, and Jonny states that he'll give Katherine-with-a-K a call to make sure she's okay. We cut to the other Catherine sitting on the edge of the bed, grabbing Vincent's hair and saying, ever so sweetly, "I'm still your number one, aren't I?" And he leans in to kiss her, whispering "Anything you say," before his lips touch her neck.

In Katherine-with-a-K's best ending, Vincent mentions signing on to play the neighbor in a family comedy. It's not prestigeous and it won't get him any awards, but it's a steady paycheck, and they've even given him some creative leeway. The deal with his character is that he's head over heals with a lady way out of his league. He suggested that she could be a missed connection from high school, career-oriented, in the fashion industry, and named Katherine. They've accepted all this input. His girlfriend is touched by this and when they get married he declares that she'll be a bigger household name than him, and he can't wait to be known as her husband.

Rin's best ending involves him being a producer, yes, but any movie Rin composes a score for is contractually obligated to offer Vincent a cameo. By the time he dies he's sure people will make compilations of the cameos, construct elaborate theories of them all being the same universe-hopping character, dedicate memes to him, and the like. His legacy will be people on the internet having some harmless fun.

The Neutral ending has Vincent publishing a memoire of that week of nightmares, dedicated to "The two women who taught me what I was not and the person who saw me for what I was. I still think about you, Rin." He's well aware this won't be received as nonfiction, and so he's working an a manuscript for a fantasy novel. There's a hero and a dangerous tower and a god with ill intentions and, well, you'll have to read it to find out what else.

[who-am-i-no-one]

Emma. (2020)

I watched this movie in late January. After multiple viewings and re-reading the book, I have a lot of thoughts about this adaptation.

It seems rather strange, given that Emma is part of my holy trinity of Austen novels, that I didn't watched the most recent adaptation earlier. I think it was mostly due to my initial impression that Anya Taylor-Joy's otherworldly looks didn't quite match what I had in mind for the titular character. I decided to give this version a try after watching Queen's Gambit. Not sure that Anya's looks will ever grow on me, but she did impress me as a young actress who seemed to have a maturity beyond her years.

Long story short: really wished I had seen this movie earlier! It is absurd and heartfelt at the same time, imo, the version that best imbues Austen's humor. It is now my favorite adaption, with the possible exception of Clueless, and I'm not quite sure how much of that is just nostalgia.

From the casting to the direction to the script to the costumes to the set to the soundtrack, I could tell the creative team really put a lot of love into this project. It's always a joy to watch something that's made with love and made well.

Direction

Autumn de Wilde's directing is quite good. I would never have thought this was her first feature. She certainly has a unique and colorful style, which is probably to be expected for such a famous photographer.

Funnily, while watching the movie I kept thinking it reminded me of early Hollywood romantic comedies like Bringing Up Baby (incidentally one of my favorites) or The Philadelphia Story, and then reading interviews and seeing that she had tried to bring in some of that style of humor made me feel rather validated. Also the servants' reactions were awesome!

Absolutely loved the fact that they decided to show that Knightley and Emma were in love with each other very early on in the story, with Knightley more aware of it. I've read some people complaining about the surprise of Emma's being in love being ruined. But come on, did anyone reading two chapters into the book think it wasn't going to be the two of them together in the end?

Loved how much of Knightley's point of view we got in this movie. This is one repressed pinning man. I can totally see this Knightley riding ventre a terre from London in the rain because he thought Emma was heartbroken.

The only gripe I had was the lack of Frank and Jane's subplot. As it seems they shot some scenes for that, I assume it was the director's discretion to take them out. I remember thinking while watching the movie that they must have expected the audience to be familiar with the story because some things just didn't really get explained or extrapolated on a lot. If you hadn't read the book it'd be 30 minutes or more into the movie before you put two and two together and figured out why Mr. Knightley is always at Hartfield.

Script

The script takes most of the dialogue directly from the book, which is awesome. I love Austen's writing because there is a certain musicality to it and retaining that in large part for the movie really made it better for me. The deftness with which Eleanor Catton moved dialogue from one scene in the book to a totally different one in the movie was quite brilliant. Everything flowed so well.

The scenes that differed from the book were also excellent - namely, I really loved the Jane/Knightley duet, the infamous nosebleed and first kiss scenes. 💖 I thought the screenwriter used those changes to quickly establish plot points and character arcs well.

Costume/Hair

Not a Recency expert so can't say much about the costumes and hair as far as period correctness but from reading other reviews it seemed like they were very true to the period. Obviously appreciated them taking the time to show the audience how men got dressed in that time (purely for research purposes obviously 😜).

Emma's dresses were all quite beautiful. I especially loved the black evening dress, the pink one with the roses and the proposal dress. Also loved the little pop of red shoes that went with the proposal dress. As someone who wore red shoes with her wedding gown I heartily approve.

Absolutely loved how Emma's curls unwound as her life unravels. Similarly think they must have done the same for Knightley to a lesser extent. His hair during the card playing scene at the Westons was quite terrible.

Set

I! Loved! Hartfield! It looked just like a doll house. Really most of the sets looked good enough to eat. So much pastel. Reminded me of French macarons.

I liked how everything in Donwell Abbey was shrouded in Holland covers. Makes a good point that Knightley barely lives there at all, that his home has been with the Woodhouses for quite a while now. Which, of course, makes his sacrifice at the end just a little bit less of a sacrifice?

Soundtrack

Isabella Waller-Bridge's music really meshed well with the tone of the entire film. The male and female opera singers, sometimes sounding as if they are bickering with each other and other times seeming to be in duet, was a brilliant touch. The folk music was a little jarring at first but really grew on me.

Johnny Flynn's end credits song "Queen Bee" is amazing. I love that we get Knightley's perspective at the end with a song written and sung by Knightley. It's a lovely coda to the movie. And now, if the next Austen hero doesn't write one for his SO I'm going to think him a very poor sort of lover.

Cast

Anya's Emma was really great. I'm glad they allowed Emma to be her bitchy self. Lol. I haven't watched the 1996 and 2009 versions in a while but I distinctly remember them making Emma too nice. I recall writing after watching the Garai version that Emma was actually mean and they should have let her be mean! If she's not a brat in the beginning, how will we see her change for the better later on? I love what a snob and how manipulative this Emma was and so assured of her place in her little society but still had the vulnerability of almost an imposter's syndrome which I feel most people can relate to.

Her chemistry with Johnny Flynn's Knightley was off the charts. Pretty much every scene they had together I half expected them to reenact the library scene from Atonement lol.

Mia Goth was a wonderful Harriet. She really captured Harriet's inexperience, naivete and diffidence. The orgasmic sounds she was making during the gypsies attack scene were awesome. Although, I could probably have forgone a few of Harriet's scenes for more Frank and Jane.

Not sure why they made Mia go brunette since the book specifically mentioned Harriet was fair? Perhaps having all three leads as blondes was just a bit too much. I'm also not sure if I liked Harriet's ending as I really don't think Emma, even in her most contrite mood, would invite further friendship from a tradesman's daughter and soon-to-be her husband's tenant farmer's wife. This seems a piece of modern day wishful thinking on the part of the creative team.

Bill Nighy was so good as Mr. Woodhouse. He made it so believable why everyone would do everything in their power to accommodate his whims. The gag with the screens was too funny. He was able to sketch out a lonely quirky old man who is afraid to lose those close to him in very limited screen time. Absolutely loved the scene where Emma was heaping blame on herself and he just sat with her in sympathetic silence.

Miranda Hart's Miss Bates was excellent as well. She has long been one of my favorite British comedic actresses but she can also do drama well. Her reaction to Emma's teasing on Box Hill and her forgiveness of Emma later brought me to tears.

Josh O'Connor's Mr. Elton was deliciously creepy. The carriage proposal scene was at once a little scary and hilarious. I actually liked the portrait scenes a little less because I found the acting there slightly affected and veering into 1995 Mr. Collins territory. But as Austen described Elton as having "a sort of parade in his speeches", this was much more forgivable. Really loved Mr. Elton's determination to eat cake during the Eltons' visit to Hartfield.

Tanya Reynolds was an excellent Mrs. Elton and in very little screen time was able to bring to life this meddlesome nouveau riche. Adored her little shimmy during the ball.

Amber Anderson's Jane really looked as if she were in a decline. Callum Turner did a good job as a slightly restless, mischievous and immature Frank Churchill. I did feel his looks were a bit too modern but that's just my personal view.

Given how many scenes they had I thought they used the time they had pretty well with furtive glances and sly smiles at each other to establish the relationship.

Connor Swindells was such a love sick puppy as Robert Martin. Did this role ever get cast in other adaptations? I don't seem to recall at all.

Special shoutout to Oliver Chris's John Knightley. Absolutely had me in stitches.

And last but never the least, Johnny Flynn's Mr. Knightley:

To preface, I will never not fall for Mr. Knightley in any version that I watch. And really, get yourself a good looking enough actor with good enough chemistry with Emma and good enough acting chops and you should have a fairly successful Knightley.

I judge all my Knightleys by the Box Hill scene. And up to that point in the movie, I really liked Johnny Flynn's Knightley. He was playful and sexy and jealous and slightly bitchy as well. The duet scene was lovely because I always appreciate a man who can play instruments and sing well. The sexiness and chemistry of the dance scene was off the charts. That's all well and good. And like I said before, given any well cast actor, I probably would have liked them in those scenes as well, just as I've liked Northam's and Miller's Knightleys.

But, the Box Hill scene absolutely blew me away. To make sure I was not just biased towards the last Knightley I saw on screen, I did go back and compare each version's Box Hill scene and I am, actually, even more blown away. Some of it is a credit to the directing and script, but a large part of it is Johnny Flynn's acting in that scene.

As far a script and directing, the set up to the fight scene was fantastic. Loved Anya's expression changes after she makes the joke. Loved Miranda Hart's Miss Bates as she realizes what Emma meant. The silence that followed. Knightley's shocked face and how sympathetic he was to Miss Bates. Can probably write a whole thing just about this scene alone.

I loved the fact that Knightley had an internal struggle as to whether or not to approach Emma and reproach her for her behavior. I know the book has him tell Emma about his struggle but that just doesn't work as well for me on screen.

During the scene you can just tell how frustrated and disappointed in her he is even though he tries to keep his voice low. But the way he reprimands her does not at all feel lecture-y and I feel like part of it is because it seems like he starts to lose control a little bit as well. His voice starts to crescendo as she stubbornly refuses to admit she was in the wrong and culminates in "badly done, indeed!" with actual fingerpointing. Yikes.

Then he losses steam and looked regretful, almost devastatingly so, at his own outburst and perhaps felt that he was losing her by giving this speech and looked as if he would have said something more - an apology or some words of comfort to soften the blow? - but didn't.

This remorse and the struggle at the beginning really bookended the scene for me.

Absolutely loved his Knightley, and, really, him as an actor after that.

The proposal scene as well was very good. His delivery was just really good. The way he said "If I loved you less then I might be able to talk about it more." with some regret and then closing his eyes as if he can't believe what he just said. Soooo good. Also, he cries very pretty, lol.

The delivery of the three "yes" during the kiss scene as Emma asked for confirmation that he really was ok with giving up his house to come live with them was also brilliant. It just kept getting softer and softer but he never breaks eye contact. Absolute chef's kiss. His closed eyed little smile of content after Emma kisses him just made me melt into a puddle.

Yup, overall I'd say I rather liked his interpretation of Mr. George Knightley. 😜

I did wish they hadn't giving him such sideburns but after watching some Emma interviews I can totally understand. If he didn't have the sideburns there'd be more complaints about how young this Knightley was. He's got such a baby face.

...I seemed to have written an entire essay on this movie...yeah, I just have a lot of feelings and thoughts about this version...

[dorminchu]

Insult to Injury: The Director’s Cut — Chapter 03

Fandom: James Bond Characters: Madeleine Swann, Lyutsifer Safin, OC(s) Relationships: Madeleine Swann & Lyutsifer Safin Warnings: PTSD, moderate language. Rating: M Genre: Crime/Drama Summary: A troubled psychologist desperate to escape her past criminal ties finds herself drawn into a far more insidious schism. [Post-Skyfall]

[Ao3 | FFNet]

— Episode III: HEDGEHOG’S DILEMMA —

  Over the next hour, Madeleine’s initial animosity dissipated into tacit acceptance of the situation. Apart from the two unnamed associates, her and Safin, there were no other passengers. On paper, their route was straightforward. They'd stop at Genève, switch trains, be on their way to Sion. A five hour commute in total. Leaving roughly four hours to glean as much information as possible about her primary source of information.

At a glance she placed Safin somewhere in his early-to-mid-thirties. He had a soft face chipped away through years of ruthlessness—you could see it in his eyes, this kind of cold reticence that needed no introduction. The scarring threw off her estimate by a slight margin. He was dressed smartly, darker colours, blending in easily with any other first-class commuter except for the gloves. Madeleine, in a white blouse, grey wool cardigan to match her shoes.

“I'm curious. When you contacted the HR office and informed them I wouldn't be coming in, how did they take it?”

“They were surprised that you came in when you did, but ultimately sympathetic, given the nature of the situation. Your secretary mentioned that you're not one to take time off without prior notice.”

“Of course she would.”

“Would you like to know what they thought of you?”

As he spoke he watched her closely. “Diligent and well-mannered when it came to clientele. Aloof outside of an office setting. After graduating from two prestigious universities, you were still working at a public clinic. Your office and equipment were particularly sparse for a twenty-six year-old in the modern era. I imagine they thought you were in an inordinate amount of debt or else eccentric.”

Madeleine chewed on that for a few seconds. “That’s all well and good, but you cannot get all the nuances about a person from simple inference, or a background check.” Safin remained unreadable. “It was the secretary who told you all this?”

“In this profession, people provide me a lot of information I don’t ask for. I’ve learnt not to take it personally. You’d know what that is like, I’m sure.”

“I suppose so.”

Sunlight beamed on the side of her head, warming her past the point of languid ease. Should've picked the aisle seat. Trapped by her handbag at her ankles; burner phone, wallet, spare cosmetics, and a custom holster for a gun she hadn't touched since moving in with Arnaud. 

Three years ago, what was on her mind? Fresh out of Oxford, too cynical to be starry-eyed. Volunteering still gave her a false sense of self-importance, rather than existential exhaustion. Carving out her altruistic identity through deeds, not the blood money she had to take advantage of. Still believing in a world governed by monetary prowess and tacit favours. That somehow, she'd make up for inherited sins in sheer time and effort.

On her own, she just ended pulling up roots and moving on every couple years, leaving behind very little of herself. Taking some perverse pride in the impossibility of knowing an enigma but each year she noticed the empty space, the quiet of the flat, more encompassing. Lines on her face. Still young but not forever.

Maybe she needed some change in her life. Company, but not for the sake of matrimony. Living with Arnaud in Paris had made it easier to accept the façade of a charmed life, even if their relationship was one of social convenience. It got her father off her case. Her colleagues finally stopped speculating that she'd gone frigid and switched to wondering when she and Arnaud were going to move on or get hitched. Never to her face. Always to the secretary, who passed along the information with the same enthusiasm as commentary on the window dressings. 

Marriage crossed her mind, once or twice, in abstract. A last resort to keep up the veneer of normalcy. She could change her name. Become another unassuming face among thousands. Settle down while she was young. She wasn't a company man like her father. Maybe, for a year or two, before her past knocked her back into reality. Keeping her family life and professional life separate was paramount. The events of this morning proved as much.  

An attendant came over smelling of artificial vanilla and enquired if they would need anything. Stench recalled the low-lit bathroom in Conakry; a rush of saliva flooded Madeleine’s mouth as before vomiting. She shook her head. The attendant looked over at her in concern.

“Everything's fine, thank you,” said Safin. 

Madeleine threw him a bitter look as the attendant continued down the aisle. The sentiment was not reciprocated. Taken up by a need for conversation, if only to get out of her own head into someone else's for a while, she began, “So—” cleared her throat “—so, you head your own team?”

“That's correct.”

“How long have you been operating?”

“Fourteen years.”

“That’s quite a long time. I cannot say I'm familiar with the detail.”

“Our operations tend to stray away from the public eye. The situation in Conakry was an exception.”

Madeleine nodded primly. Still grasping for a conversation topic that wouldn’t completely sabotage her own intentions. What the hell could she do if he was one of SPECTRE? Second-guessing all his responses wouldn't get her anywhere. She simpered.

“I understand that this is not an ideal location to talk in-depth. But it wouldn’t hurt to know why my father saw fit to bother with me after all this time.”

“He has never discussed his business with you?”

“He made sure to keep me abreast of most of it. But I always knew where the money came from.” Madeleine frowned slightly. “There was an incident in Bolivia, back in 2008. I was volunteering on behalf of the IDPs and civilians affected by the water crisis. Dominic Greene, the famous entrepreneur, lost his life and the organisation QUANTUM shut down. But the gas explosion at the La Perla de las Dunas, that was all over the news. At the time it was deemed a political assault because several key members of the Bolivian military were rumoured to be involved.”

“On the news, do you recall ever hearing of a man named Luiz Medrano?”

“Medrano? As in, the exiled dictator?”

Safin nodded. “General Medrano cut a deal with Greene. Undisputed access to a seemingly useless piece of land in the Atacama Desert. It was, in fact, the site of an underground dam. Greene would have a monopoly over Bolivia's water, and Medrano and his coup would seize control of the country.” A particularly cold smile crossed Safin’s face but didn’t reach his eyes. “Not all of their subordinates were loyal. Someone from the outside must have intercepted at the hotel. Even so, their claim over the dam might have stayed out of the public eye if not for the amount of military figures found complicit in that political handover.” He paused. “QUANTUM's disbandment was not made public at the time. How would you know of this?”

Madeleine lowered her voice. “QUANTUM was my father's company, and Mr Greene was one of his associates. Besides, I never knew Greene personally. I don't think my father mentioned him to me more than twice in my life. I just put two-and-two together. He'd never let me see his shame directly.”

“I presume your father was acting in the interest of your protection.”

“He's always been meddling in my affairs! Even when I was a little girl. It's funny, you know. He was too busy to raise me so it fell to my mother. And then, once I got older, he decided to come back into my life. I would stay with him for a few months and go back to whichever school he put me through for the rest of the year. We stopped talking once I went off to Oxford.”

“And your mother?”

Madeleine froze. Averted her face towards the window. “She passed on when I was younger.”

Something indecipherable surfaced in his expression. “My apologies.”

“No, it’s all right. I’ve had time to mourn.” She scowled at nothing in particular. “I hope you realise I don’t have much on me.”

“Your personal affairs have been collected from the flat. You will have access to them once we reach our destination.”

“And that was decided by him, or you?” Safin held her gaze. “Well, you are doing this on his behalf, are you not?”

No answer. Back to silence until the attendant passed by again, accompanied by the scent of faux-vanilla. Madeleine couldn’t stand to sit another minute.

“Where do you think you’re going?” asked Safin without looking up.

“Dining car. I haven’t eaten since this morning.”

Safin made eye-contact with the associate on his side, nodded. The man got up and followed her into the next car without a word.

The attendant and passengers became nonentities while Madeleine ordered a sandwich and coffee. The associate didn't order anything, scanning the car. Just a pair of commuters, to the untrained eye.

“Welcome back, Dr Swann,” said Safin. “How was the dining car?”

“Uneventful.”

Safin glanced at the associate who was now sitting a few rows down. “I’m glad there were no complications.”

“I would certainly hope not,” Madeleine muttered. Every sentence that left her mouth gave him more ammunition. Ill-advised to put up a haughty front for the rest of the train ride. Tolerating the situation without being happy about it. Best get a grip before she made a bigger fool of herself. 

“I’m not one of your patients, Dr Swann. There's no need to try and figure me out.”

“I am not trying to do anything of the sort.” Terse, reflexive. Safin drew a quiet breath. Madeleine glanced over at him and of course, he initiated:

“Do you enjoy your work?”

“Psychology?”

“Yes.”

It was such an ordinary question that Madeleine forgot to be indignant. “I… well, truthfully there are a lot of days where it is not very glamourous. But, if the alternative is to sit by and do nothing while others are suffering, I wouldn't give up for the world.” Shrugging off her lingering bad mood with a white lie. “And you?”

“I have no complaints about my work.”

A little brisk, compared to his previous responses. But she hardly knew the man well enough to start parsing for tells. In his position she'd probably have answered the same way.

On the second train heading from Genève to Sion, Madeleine was out of conversation topics. Not that Safin was one for talking anyway. She'd settled into the pattern of being scrutinised and returning the scrutiny. Just like her father to send a highly-trained watchdog in lieu of an apology.

Once again, they had the car to themselves. The afternoon sun beaming in through the window imprinted on her retinas until she pulled down the blinds. 

The passing attendant did not address her beyond a glance and a small, terse smile. Probably just itching to get to the end of his shift and go see his friends for drinks. In his absence, her eyes kept flickering over empty rows, scanning, rescanning, fruitlessly.

“Dr Swann,” said Safin quietly, “is there a reason you keep looking over at the door?”

Madeleine purposefully relaxed her shoulders. “I wasn't aware that my father owned property in Sion. It's uncommon.”

“It's an architect’s villa located in Pont-de-la-Morge. Built in 1950, refurbished in 2008. You’ll have your pick of rooms on the second floor, if that makes any difference.”

Madeleine nodded. Running his sentence through in her head a few more times. She looked up sharply. “You’ll be staying there as well?”

“Given what occurred in Guinea and France, I would say it is in your best interest to have someone watching your back for a while.”

“You might have mentioned this before.”

“My job is to keep you alive. That’s as much reassurance as I can offer.”

⁂

Arrival at the station. Ushered into another black car. The sky overhead threatening rain as the car pulled into the drive. The perimeter of the house was flanked by several men not dissimilar from the two who’d collected Madeleine from her office. They did not speak. A couple of them nodded to Safin before bidding them entry.

An abundance of glass doors and aesthetically pleasing windows. The kitchen; wood panelling and stainless-steel. A fireplace in the living room with glass doors directly adjacent that led out to a terrace. The lawn watered itself. There were three bathrooms and bedrooms respectively.

Her own room was up the stairs, on the right. Far less claustrophobic or lived-in than Arnaud’s apartment. A fitted wardrobe, a stiff-looking bed. Mahogany sofa that wasn’t really her style but could be worked around. Light on the westernmost wall. Another set of glass doors that led out to a balcony, flanked by maroon curtains. She turned on the light, drew the curtains shut. Opening the wardrobe, she found the clothes she'd left in Arnaud's apartment that morning. She parsed through the fabric, unsure whether to find this latter aspect convenient or invasive. Some of these clothes she hadn’t worn in a season or two. 

Arnaud's last conversation came to mind. Had he come back to the flat after she left in order to apologise, or collect her things? If they hadn’t argued that morning he might still be alive. Worried enough, perhaps, to ask around and get himself in a lot of trouble before he was silenced.

Madeleine shut the wardrobe forcefully. A change of style the first step to reinventing herself.

Over the balcony she caught sight of Safin and his associates. He looked over as she came down the stairs. “The room is fine,” she began, “but, if I'm going to be here a week I'll need some things in the morning.”

Safin nodded. “Once we work out an itinerary, that shouldn't be an issue. You recall the two men who accompanied you?” The first nodded; the second smiled politely. “Simply inform one of them and they will transport you as needed.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Madeleine. No chance of giving these men the slip and expecting to survive.

⁂

That night she buried herself under rough wool blankets. Dreamless sleep the most precious amenity of all. She couldn’t start drinking and risk a hangover. If she started taking pills she'd draw attention to herself pretty quickly.

Normally she could manage to sleep. Restless but consistent enough to scrape by unnoticed.

Waking up half-fevered. Unfamiliar ceiling. Sion, not France. Waiting for the initial swell of terror to pass, as it always did. Regulating her breathing. Just a trauma response. Laying still, unsure if it was midnight or five in the morning. 

Back in Ermatige, the waves of terror and relief used to crash down, shake her apart. Twenty-six year-old Madeleine chewed her lip. Sitting up, wrapping her arms around herself. A dull throbbing behind her eyes, in the base of her skull. Heavy scent of petrichor invading her nostrils.

About to get up when she heard the creak of floorboards. Movement from the hall towards the stairs, descending. Someone was up and around. A few seconds later, Safin’s voice, indistinct.

Oh, God.

She hadn’t disturbed him, had she?

She could lay back down and feign sleep until her headache became too much to ignore. Or she could go on with her day. Checked the time. 06:21.

Technically still too early for her to be up and about.

The warmth of the sheets became cloying. She stood up, barefoot on varnished wood, creeping over to the balcony. Reaching out to touch the pane. Cool glass kissing her naked palm. In a month or two the ground would be laden with snow.

Opening the door. Stepping out onto the balcony, gripping the rail. Quieting her breath to hear the whisper of water on grass. Taking fresh air into her lungs until she was shivering. Soles of her feet smarted.

The men surrounding the premises did not move. But they must see her up there. She stepped back indoors.

Silvery glint in her peripherals. The old television reflecting the light from outside.

Combing around the drawers for a remote. She clicked it on. Quickly hit the mute button. Squinting at the harsh colours that only reignited her headache. Flitting through channels for news. Poring over the headlines.

Not a word about the MSF. It had only been a month since she came back to Europe. Next week was October.

She sat there for a while letting the colours wash over the room. Clicked it off. Stumbling into the bathroom. Bags under her eyes more pronounced than the day before.

Madeleine had a shower, trying to piece together the dream. Hazier than in her youth. She discarded it. Only a dream. Drying off, dressing for the day. Contenting herself with the solidity of wool and linen, she went downstairs to have breakfast.

Safin, hovering by the glass doors in the living-room area. Dressed as if for another commute. “Dr Swann,” he said as way of greeting.

“Morning,” she replied. It was seven forty AM. No job to distract her from this newfound sense of nihilism. She rifled through the pantry looking for some cereal and saw an expensive-looking bottle of alcohol towards the back—liquor. Madeleine took the cereal, fixed herself a bowl and some coffee.

Caffeine counteracted her torpor, but the headache remained. “I don’t suppose this safehouse has any painkillers?” Safin looked over. She was already going through cabinets. “It’s my head. Just the weather, really.”

“Did you sleep?”

“Well enough.” She met his gaze with more confidence than she could back up. Safin’s attention diverted to the side of her head.

“On your right.”

She took two with her coffee. Ate in silence. Waiting a week in the hope her father might have an excuse was a truly miserable proposition. What would she say? Hello, Papa. I’m still alive. Did you pick this location to remind me of your home in Austria? No, that wouldn’t get her anywhere. Easier to approach her father in the same context as her job.

“Who do I speak to when I’m ready to leave?”

Safin glanced over at one of the associates.

⁂

The spotter gave her the run down on the way. In terms of travel she couldn’t go beyond the canton of Valais and she could not contact anyone else outside of Kerberos to confer information about her father’s whereabouts. But aside from that she could pretty much go anywhere.

First, clothing. That took her to Bottega Veneta. In Flagranti’s Business Acumen playing over the intercom. Madeleine's hackles raised. The painkillers in effect. Caffeine wearing off. She started parsing out signs. She hadn't really thought about what she needed beyond a change.

So accustomed to the life of a disconnected middle-class that its opposite became seductive. Perusing the aisles in a daze. Selecting whatever pulled at her heart in a perverse reminder of home. Nothing too extravagant. A new raincoat and a couple pairs of shoes. Navy scarf for the winter months. Spare lipstick. A few more shirts and dress pants in monochrome. Spare underwear, socks.

Spent half an hour trying it all on. Avoiding the eyes of the woman in the glass. Most of it fit but she didn't feel any different. The raincoat especially gave her a funereal look. She already had a reputation for being severe. What did it matter? She was always severe and the rest of the world could just bite the bullet.

Shit. The spotter was waiting for her. He probably didn't care either way. They hadn't talked much and she wasn't about to humanise him. She'd only let her guard down faster.

She parsed him out. They made brief eye-contact. Unimportant banter between her and the cashier during the transaction. Taking her bags. Walking over rain-slicked asphalt. Back into the car. The beat of raindrops on the window lulling her into a false sense of security.

Snapping herself out of it when the car stopped. “I’ll get it,” she insisted. The associate didn’t protest.

Treading up the stairs, down the hall. Pulling old clothes out of drawers, off hangers. Substituting her purchased goods. It wasn’t enough to fill the wardrobe, but she would have time to buy new clothes. Set aside the old stuff to be dealt with.

Shambling downstairs. Hungry without any real appetite. Safin nowhere to be seen. It took all the strength she had just to stand. Moving over to the sofa. Slumping into it. Closing her eyes. Only for a second.

The sound of a car pulling in mixed up with the sharp staccato of rifle fire tearing apart a wooden door.

Papa's gun in the cabinet, next to the bleach.

Heavy footsteps on wood.

No matter how fast she bolted she’d never get there in time.

Gloved hand on her shoulder.

Jerking awake with a guttural hitch, like she'd been sucker-punched.

Breathing hard. Her face damp.

“Dr Swann?”

Face-to-face with the last person she wanted to justify herself to. She averted her eyes. “Oh God, it's just—I’m sorry. It was just a nightmare.”

“About Conakry?”

She swallowed dryly. “Look, it’s nothing, I’m—”

“Don’t tell me that it is nothing.” His tone suddenly sharper. “You were in significant distress, now and early this morning. Nightmares are a common response in post-traumatic—”

“—I am familiar with the definition!” Ringing silence. She hadn’t meant to raise her voice. “Your concern is not unfounded, I know that it looks very bad. But I know how to deal with this. Please, just leave me be.”

“Just now, you said, don't come any closer, I'll kill you. Does that mean anything to you?”

Her hackles raised. “It's meaningless.”

“Depriving yourself of sleep won't do you any favours when Mr White shows up. If you want to be stubborn, I'll have no option but to keep you locked down until you have recuperated. In the meantime, think over what you must do to get some proper sleep. I'm not your therapist.”

He left her to sit, bitter and confused. He hadn’t reacted this way in Guinea and she'd been close to catatonic. So, what was this about?

⁂

For the next three days the Kerberos team confined her to the safehouse. Letting her out only to walk her around the premises for twenty minute intervals like a high-strung pet. If she were to take sleeping pills she was monitored. Resentment outweighed by desperation to regain her agency. 

She learnt to recognise Safin's gait back and forth down the hall. Through the glass doors that led out onto the balcony, she could always see the figures silhouetted in the light from the terrace, blending into the shadows. 

Even with all of this, sleep was no easier. Waking up half-fevered, clawing away the sheets. Expecting to see her stomach torn open, entrails and blood over the sheets not unlike brain matter and bone fragments against a hot car window. Finding unbroken skin sheened in sweat. The stress of the situation in Guinea and the extreme nature of the attack would inevitably recall some previous triggers.

It didn't explain away the nightmares about Altaussee. Hadn't she put that behind her years ago? Minor variations, each time. The setting was more indistinct than in childhood but the visceral details heightened. Sometimes the gunman would shoot her on sight before she stepped outside. Most often now, she'd run over to find no gun in the cabinet, and he shot her anyway. As a child she'd lacked the mental capacity to conceptualise how it would feel to die this way; now she dreaded what she'd see when she closed her eyes.

On day four, she was finally able to get some rest on account of exhaustion rather than effort. She woke up to the sun streaming into her face. Once she left her room, the two associates got her out of the house, into the car. They drove around Valais for roughly an hour and brought her back. Upon her return to the safehouse there were men checking over the rooms and furniture. Only so much protocol she could stomach, on top of all the scrutiny.

“I don’t want them in my room when I come in,” she told Safin. “Around the premises if necessary, but that’s all. If they must check all the rooms, fine, I don’t care, I just don’t want to see it.”

Childish to her own ears. Too beaten-down to think better. But he just said: “That can be arranged.”

⁂

The nights here were getting colder. Madeleine bundled up. She had never cared much for the autumnal season. All the decay covered beneath the snow to be unearthed come spring. Upcoming holiday meant throngs of people. Indifferent towards Christmas.

Safin was rarely around. In passing, he would acknowledge her in passing with a curt nod, and after day five he was more-or-less in the background. Every now and again, she'd catch him hovering in a room, just observing. Sometimes, if she turned, she imagined a flicker of something unfamiliar trapped behind his reserved countenance. But he never stuck around long enough for her to ask.

With an abundance of free time, she was unable to let herself to fall into the illusion of normalcy. Inevitable, then, that her thoughts would stray back to the MSF. Conducting research on her own, in the mornings and evenings; parsing through official news sites on her laptop, then underground articles, statistics, and anything else she could scrounge up. 

The Guinean military had been busy quelling unrest for the last four weeks, but there were few details. Several key figures in the MSF were currently under investigation, tarnishing the reputation of the organisation. That stuck around the headlines, right next to some lesser story in the corner about various pharmaceutical companies cooperating in tandem with the Red Cross and clean MSF figures to ensure there was no repeat affliction throughout the rest of Africa. Madeleine didn’t see her face or any mention of a Psychosocial Unit mentioned anywhere.

The nightmares weren't any better. But at least she had something to point her energy towards rather than direct it inwards.

On day six, Safin was lurking about the living area when she came down. He didn't wish her good morning. “I'll say this once, for your own good. Forget about what happened in Guinea.”

A week ago Madeleine would've been indignant. Arrogant enough to question this. She said: “There has been nothing short of a civil outbreak, and all the other parties walked away more or less unscathed. And you expect me to ignore that?”

“You accepted that mission knowing that there was the possibility there would be casualties.”

“Casualties? It was a worst-case scenario.”

He looked over at her. “The situation escalated far beyond any one party's control. There's no sense in blaming yourself. You did the best you could.”

Always wearing gloves. What the hell had happened to him? And why, succeeding that, would one choose security as their preferred occupation?

“Are you going to ask if it’s genetic?”

Madeleine balked. For the first time in a long time embarrassed rather than unnerved. “I didn't mean to offend you.” 

He shrugged. “No offence taken.” His tone was off, like trying for sharpness without credence. “It was a long time ago.” Cordial, but not openly genial. While their conversations topics didn't leave much room for trust or even camaraderie, at the very least they were not glowering at each other anymore. “There's been a slight change of plans. Your father should be arriving later this evening.

“Well, that's convenient.”

“I'm sure you would like to ask him a few questions about your situation.”

“There's no telling he will give me a straight answer.” Safin said nothing. Madeleine exhaled, looked over at him. “Irrespective of how I might feel about your employer, you’ve given me no reason to distrust you.”

“Very well, Dr Swann.”

Madeleine smiled. “Please, just call me Madeleine. I'm not working right now.”

A beat.

“All right. Madeleine.”

[olivinesea]

Space Is Only Noise If You Can See, pt. 2

Part 1

a/n: Even slower than normal, sorry! There’s a lot going on in my world and it turns out it’s rather exhausting to be evil. All the same warnings apply: major character death, guns, blood, violence, suicide, etc. This train is only moving in one direction (straight to hell). ~2.8k

The nightmare continues.

That night he called Emily. It hadn’t been planned. In fact he had been hoping to have someone else call her, fill her in on the tragedy. That way he knew she would get the truth and not the distorted reflection of facts bounced around by his mind. But when he woke up in the middle of the night, breathing hard after yet another repetition of the nightmare, he decided he needed to call Emily. She needed to know and and he needed to hear her voice. Maybe her familiar words could chase away some of these ghosts. The coffins were getting closer all the time and he was almost certain he saw someone pushing them in his direction.

It was 3 am and he had barely slept at all. He went to the kitchen for water and checked on Jack before sitting back down to call her. He pulled his knees into his chest like an overgrown child and waited for her to pick up. She was grouchy even though it wasn’t all that early for her. She was always unreasonable at what he considered very reasonable times of day. When she saw his name flash across the screen, she wasn’t worried about the timing because she knew he didn’t sleep well. She had stopped trying to keep track of when he should be asleep years ago, the math making her dizzy with how small the number of hours he’d reliably rest seemed to be.

“What do you want now Hotchner?”

It was a game they played with one another. A false severity, all business. Seeing who would crack first. They both missed each other badly, each having been the other’s anchor through so much, but they tried not to say it. It only hurt more.

He felt bad that he couldn’t warn her this wasn’t a normal call, that there was no play in the gravity of his voice. He held his breath while he decided what to say first.

“Aaron?” Her tone immediately took on an edge. Damn her, she was so attuned to him, even four thousand miles away, she knew something was wrong without him breathing a word.

“Spencer is…Spencer died,” he managed to stutter out.

She didn’t become frantic, a quality he had always appreciated about his closest friend. She was quiet for a moment before prompting him. “How?”

He shook his head, it still didn’t make sense to him. He had brought home the report, hoping that the clearly typed details, the stomach-turning photographs, could convince him. That their fixed structures might settle his mind.

“We’re not sure. He just…they found him in the river. It looks like he jumped sometime early Sunday.”

She was silent. Of all the possible responses, that was not one she would have guessed.

“And…” he trailed off, not sure if he could tell her about the phone call. He hadn’t told anyone yet. He selfishly kept Spencer’s phone with him, checking it every couple hours to see if anything had changed, if his memory was betraying him, again. No one had questioned him about it.

“Did he leave a note?” Leave it to Emily to be practical. They were all so dazed, reliving the last days, weeks, trying to remember something that they overlooked. Surely they wouldn’t have missed something so large.

“No, not that we’ve found.”

“Well,” her seriousness now very real, “there could be another explanation then.”

“Em…” He was already weary of this conversation started with JJ. He didn’t think he could expend any energy trying to convince Emily as well. Not when so much of his effort needed to go into making sure he was on the right page, the right date, the right series of events.

“Think about it.” She was blunt. “Reid would never go without an explanation. He couldn’t. He can’t keep his mouth shut. It wouldn’t be possible for him to just leave everyone without some kind of goodbye.”

He waited, not contradicting her. It made sense, what she was saying. But he didn’t know if it was only because he didn’t want to believe the alternative. He also didn’t know what that would mean. If Spencer hadn’t taken his own life, who had?

“Well, we are still waiting on a full investigation. Either way, we’ve lost him.”

“Will you be handling the investigation?” she asked.

“No, not this time,” he replied. He had already bent the rules too many times, both recently and over the entirety of his career. There was no urgency to this, no immediate threat, no one to save. What had happened was over, the pain was irreversible. There was no reason it had to be them formally digging into the details of Spencer’s last days.

“I’ll be on a plane this afternoon. There’s a few things I need to take care of but I can be there by tomorrow.”

“Emily, that’s not necessary.”

“Like hell it’s not. Aaron Hotchner you are not going to deal with this alone.”

“Thank you, Em,” his response was quiet, fearful even. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hide the slithering doubts in his mind from her, not if she was there beside him. The things he had worked so hard to hide from the others would be exposed once she got ahold of him. He just hoped she knew how to rebuild as well as she knew how to burn it all down.

*

The next day they gathered in the round table room. Everyone was on edge, clearly having gotten little sleep. Hotch told them they could take time off if they need. He’d informed the director that they were unavailable for the next week at least, there was nothing urgent for them to do. He wasn’t going to force them one way or another, he knew they all had different ways of coping. They filtered out of the room aimlessly with glazed expressions. Hotch ducked his head and returned to his office.

About an hour later he looked up from his papers to see Morgan leaning on the doorframe. He gestured an invitation to the chairs opposite his desk. Derek sat heavily, pulling at his collar like it was too tight.

“Are you okay?” It was a stupid question, they both knew it.

Morgan shook his head, restless. “I just don’t get it Hotch. Why wouldn’t he come to us? Why wouldn’t he say something to me?”

Hotch looked at Morgan sadly, noting the sense of betrayal in his features. “We can’t know what was going through his mind Derek. No matter how much we know a person, we still can only see what they let us see.”

He met Hotch’s eyes, confusion plain. “He told me everything. He—“ Morgan stopped, obviously fighting back emotion. “It doesn’t make sense.”

Hotch nodded, “I know, I’m not sure it ever does. But the police are looking into it, we’ll have their report soon and then we can figure out next steps from there.”

“We should be doing that,” Morgan’s voice gained more of its usual strength, spurred on by the thought of strangers pawing through Spencer’s things.

“No,” Hotch’s voice was firm, “we all need time to process this. None of us can be objective, no matter how much we wish we could.”

“He wouldn’t like it.” Morgan sounded helpless.

“I know, but it’s the right thing. He would want the truth, this is the best way to get it.”

Derek’s shoulders slumped, he was too drained to fight with Hotch really.

“Why don’t you go home? There’s no reason you have to be here, no reason any of us has to be here. It might help to get away from all this,” Hotch waved his hand vaguely towards the bullpen, still full of people who hadn’t just had the earth shift sickeningly beneath them.

Morgan didn’t respond right away and when he did look up, there were tears threatening to escape his eyes. “I know he didn’t do this.”

Hotch just nodded sympathetically. He didn’t think Spencer did this either but he didn’t know how to explain that just yet.

“Go home, Derek.” He said it gently but it wasn’t a suggestion.

Morgan rubbed an eye with the heel of his hand and exhaled loudly as he stood up. He nodded tightly to Hotch before leaving the office. Ten minutes later, Hotch watched him heading down the stairs and through the busy office, people discreetly stepping out of the path of such obvious heartache.

*

The following day was more of the same, the end of Reid’s life an immovable checkpoint in time. JJ stopped by his office on her way in, asked him how Jack was doing. She didn’t ask how Hotch was, she knew any answer she got to that would be a meaningless fabrication. Hotch looked a little guilty upon hearing the question.

“He doesn’t know.”

“What? Hotch, you have to tell him.”

“I know, I just, I don’t know what to tell him.” Hotch leaned back in his chair, looking at the pen he held. “He’s going to ask questions that I don’t have the answers to.” They all do. Somehow he has fooled them into thinking he was someone with answers, someone who fixed things. They would be terrified to find out wrong they were.

“He’s not a little kid anymore, he’ll be more hurt if you lie to him.”

“It’s not lying, and I believe I know what’s best for my son.” He was angry for a brief moment, all the stress of what happened had worn down his normally tight control. He immediately regretted the sharpness in his voice, could see how JJ had shrunk back a little. She was only trying to help. She was in the same pain as him, the loss echoing through their lives, tearing at tender scars that never healed fully. He sighed.

“I’m sorry, JJ. I shouldn’t have said that.”

She waved him off though the words still stung. “Have you talked to Morgan? I haven’t seen him yet.”

“No, he’s taking some time. I don’t expect he’ll be in for a few days at least.”

She hummed, pleased at least one of them was able to step away. “I’ll check on him later, see if he needs anything.”

“That would be great, thank you.” He hoped she knew the depth behind those two words but they never seemed to carry the weight they should. JJ was always doing things to take care of the team, picking up pieces no one else noticed had fallen.

*

Morgan was not answering his phone. The first missed call didn’t bother her. He was probably doing something, maybe he’d gone for a run. The second missed call felt a little unusual. They were all so attached to their phones, always waiting for the next case to come in. It was unlikely that he was without it. Maybe he had turned his ringer off, ensuring that he had the space he needed. The third time she called without answer she had reached a state of full blown worry. Morgan was reasonable, he was thoughtful, he wouldn’t just disappear on them. And yet, he and Reid had been so close, always flirting and bickering, Spencer’s usual rules about personal space melting whenever it was Derek crossing the line. He wasn’t thinking clearly just now. She tried but couldn’t ignore the small voice in the back of her mind. He wouldn’t. But she needed to see him, to confirm his wellbeing. She decided to stop by his place on her way home. She could bring him some dinner. She doubted he was up to cooking for himself.

After picking up his usual order from the burger place near work, JJ drove to Morgan’s house. She still hadn’t had any luck reaching him on the phone. Her heart was racing and it felt like the air had suddenly become heavy, requiring incredible strength to drag into her lungs. He didn’t answer the door either.

She slipped through the side yard, searching for another way in. She pounded on the door and called his name. It came out sounding like a sob. Leaning her forehead against the door, she told herself to calm down, to think logically. She almost laughed when the thought of kicking in the door crossed her mind—picturing Morgan swiftly getting them through all manner of locked entries. She knew she wouldn’t make a dent in this door. Morgan took too much care in the details of the homes he lived in. The door was solid. She’d need another way in.

She paced in the yard, wishing she had a key, wishing Derek would just answer his stupid phone and she could calm her anxiety and head home. She glared at the door, so stubbornly closed, keeping her out specifically. She wondered if he had a spare key and was about to call Penelope to ask when she spotted it. One of the windows was cracked open.

A key would be easier but she could work with a window. She was too impatient to put an end to her worry so she stepped through the bushes that lined the perimeter of the house. She was able to pop the screen of with a little effort, then slid the window all the way open before pulling herself up and through. She ended up on the kitchen counter and dropped down to the tiles. Her palms were covered in a layer of grime and she brushed them against each other to get it off. Breathing a little hard from the effort, adrenaline ran high and made her overly sensitive to the quiet permeating the house. She wanted to call out for him but something stopped her.

She crossed through the kitchen and froze when she reached the doorway to the living room. At first she couldn’t process what she was seeing, random details refusing to connect in any kind of discernible order. There was a smell, so familiar but so out of place here, a home she’d brought her children to and laughed over too many glasses of wine in. The bitter metallic scent clawed its way into her sinuses, making her eyes water. It was dark and the shape on the floor was so crumpled it could have been a pile of blankets. It could have been if it weren’t for the even darker pool surrounding it, dragging the light inwards, velvety in its lack of reflection. She covered her mouth with her hand, feeling the pressure against her lips. There was a scream lost somewhere inside her, winding its way up as the tumblers fell into place, unlocking the meaning of what she saw.

“Derek, no!” The words barely made a sound. She moved closer, willing this to be a mistake, a trick of the light, there had to be some other meaning to this scene. But there wasn’t. She got close enough to look right into his unseeing eyes, still fixed on the ceiling beams, the thing he stared at as his life spilled out and pooled around him. Automatically her fingers fumbled for his pulse, one final hope to contradict the reality of the too obvious bullet hole. She kept looking into his eyes, trying to avoid seeing the damage that had altered everything else about his face. Nothing. She backed up, stumbling against the table behind her. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do, couldn’t even fully understand what was happening. Derek Morgan, the strongest, bravest person she knew would never be in this position, laid out with a gun in his hand, no fight left in his body. The voice in her head tried to whisper its triumph; I told you so wrapping itself happily around her shock.

“No,” she said aloud. “No.” As if that tiny syllable could have any effect on the on the matter. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, hands shaking. She called the only person she could think to call, the only person who might be able to fix this.

“JJ?” Hotch was concerned when he picked up to silence. It was unnerving, too similar to Spencer’s mute call days before.

All she could do was breathe and hope the words would come to her soon.

“JJ, what’s wrong?” Silence. “Say something Jennifer!” The rise in his voice made a shiver run through her, just enough movement to get her vocal cords working.

“He’s dead,” she whispered, voice hoarse.

Hotch didn’t say anything immediately. He couldn’t, the memory of Morgan’s blood on his hands, on his face overwhelmed him. He was filled with horror by the knowledge that he had done this.

She repeated herself, louder this time.

“I’m on my way. Call 911.”

He was already halfway out the door, not realizing he hadn’t asked if she was safe before hanging up.

~Park 3~

[franniebanana]

CQL Rewatch - Episode 6

What I learned from this scene: Jiang Cheng is really picky about women and Wei Wuxian is perfectly happy being without a woman (as long as he has alcohol), and THAT parallels what Lan Wangji says later on that he’s fine being alone too. A little thing, but it shows that while Wei Wuxian talks big about all the cute women in Yunmeng, he has zero experience and isn’t really even interested in them. Jiang Cheng, on the other hand, IS interested, but is terrible at talking to them.

Call me crazy, but I don’t actually think Lan Wangji walked in there just to punish them for making noise/disturbing others. By the way this scene is acted, it seems like Lan Wangji is genuinely curious about what they’re up to, to the point where it almost feels like he wants to join in. Like he’s really taken what Lan Xichen has said about making friends to heart. And that all is super cute to me if that’s true. Like he hears the noises coming from their room (maybe he was already going there to see Wei Wuxian anyway!) and thinks, “Sounds like they’re having fun! Maybe I can join.” I don’t think it’s outside the realm of possibility for him to think that way, albeit probably hesitantly. And it’s not like he walks in with a dour expression, ready to throw the Gusu Lan Sect rules in their faces. It’s not until he sees the alcohol/Wei Wuxian asks him to drink with them that he pulls the rules card out.

Lol his look here. DON’T. TOUCH. ME. The phrase “if looks could kill” was made for people like Lan Wangji. He has nailed that glare. But like, how ballsy is Wei Wuxian to suggest drinking? He KNOWS Lan Wangji will not willingly break the rules, and if he doesn’t know, then he’s a dummy!

I love how quickly this whole thing unravels for Wei Wuxian. He thinks it’s so funny at first—stick Lan Wangji with a talisman, get him to do what you say—only he has no idea that Lan Wangji has absolutely zero tolerance for alcohol and his response is to immediately pass out. The sheer panic in Wei Wuxian’s face and voice is delightful to watch, honestly.

I’ve watched this scene so many times in the last week or so. I like it better in the special edition, since we get more wangxian and more drunk Lan Wangji—two things that I will always take more of. The part I like is that it shows how much Wei Wuxian commits and takes responsibility for his actions. He gets Lan Wangji drunk, so he spends half the night making sure Lan Wangji is okay. It’s a very sweet scene: the two open up to each other about their parents and it’s a very unifying moment for Wei Wuxian, finding out that Lan Wangji has suffered, just like him—that he is a human being with emotions, parents, that he’s experienced loss too. Wei Wuxian, up to this point, has dealt with his troubled past by clowning around and being generally optimistic, which is obviously not how Lan Wangji has handled his own past.

Lan Wangji probably remembers nothing of their conversation (or very little) but Wei Wuxian, who can hold his liquor a lot better, remembers all of it. It’s still fun watching them grow together, even after watching this so many times. Every time they experience something together, it just brings them closer. Really calls to mind themes of fate and destiny, though I like to believe that fate had nothing to do with them falling in love.

And here’s where Lan Wangji says he’s fine being alone, to which Wei Wuxian basically goes, “EH?!” in his mind, but instead calls him and his father boring. And then things get a little heavy, since Lan Wangji fully admits that he has no mother (in other words, his mother is dead). I assume (and Lan Xichen says later) that Lan Wangji would never have divulged this information while sober and it’s interesting that Wei Wuxian never lets on that he knows. It’s kind of a shame, really, that they never talk about it again. He only talks about it with Lan Xichen, but it would have been nice to see the two of them really talk about their parents.

In my mind, they slept in the same bed. Like, not that they did anything, because let’s be honest: they passed out. In my movie, Lan Wangji would have passed out again, and then Wei Wuxian would have put him in bed, and then passed out right next to him. It’s sort of strange that Wei Wuxian dragged himself across the room to sleep upright on the floor. He doesn’t seem like the type to do something like that, and why should he care if they share a bed? Especially given the fact that he’s also drunk.

It’s also super cute how Wei Wuxian is only like half-dressed (I say half, but it’s more like three quarters): his overdress is not pulled all the way on. His shock, then laughter here kind of indicates that he doesn’t remember much from the previous night, or maybe he forgot, and then remembered. The amusement is short-lived, though, since as soon as Lan Wangji wakes, up, he flips the fuck out and drags them all to get punished. I kind of wish we’d gotten to see that, although I do love the way they wove in the conversation between Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen.

His fucking face. He goes from, “Ah, Wei Wuxian, that rascal!” to “Wangji, WTF?!” I love that so much. And the thing that makes it funnier is that Xichen was the one to suggest that Wei Wuxian might be a good friend for his brother, and now it kind of ends up biting him in the ass, since he’s KIND OF a bad influence. Obviously, the next scene shows that this hasn’t really had a negative effect on Lan Wangji, since he is willing to accept punishment for something he had absolutely no control over, even when Wei Wuxian chastises him for doing so, and announces to Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen that, in fact, Lan Wangji was forced to drink the alcohol.

Which brings me to the punishment scene. I like this scene a lot too. I love Lan Wangji’s tenacity here, how he refuses to try and get out of the punishment even though he drank the alcohol against his will. I love how Wei Wuxian immediately comes to his defense to try and get Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen to stop the punishment for Lan Wangji. This is a good contrast to earlier scenes when Wei Wuxian would not admit to breaking the rules and was always trying to make an excuse for himself. Here he doesn’t do that at all. He fully admits to breaking the rules and to dragging Lan Wangji down with him. I know Lan Wangji is upset here, but I think he’s mostly upset with himself for allowing himself to break the rules (even though he really had no choice in the matter).

Another great Yunmeng siblings scene. Wei Wuxian complaining about being punished and Jiang Yanli just keeping it real: you shouldn’t have broken the rules. She’s such a good big sister, though, because while her speech has a touch of disapproval, she’s still very sympathetic to their injuries. I do feel like she’s a little harder on Jiang Cheng, because she knows he’s better than that and he has to be better than that if he’s going to be a clan leader someday. As usual, she’s softer with Wei Wuxian, who she just has an abundance of sympathy for. And I don’t see that as a bad quality at all—I think she and her father are willing to see past some of his behavior because overall he’s well-intentioned and, as is discussed later on, he’s not going to be clan leader. His job will be to support Jiang Cheng, not to run the place, and he’s a fierce friend and extremely loyal to the Jiang Clan.

But anyway, this scene is cute how both Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng tell Jiang Yanli that they need more protein to heal and she should really add some lamb to the soup.

A few minutes ago, he could barely walk, and now he’s literally running down these steps. Maybe you don’t need that cold spring, after all.

RIP that other shoe that he originally kicked off right into the spring.

I love all of Lan Wangji’s expressions here and his responses to Wei Wuxian’s advances (I can only call them that, because he’s such a flirt here). You can totally read this scene that Wei Wuxian is just teasing and taking the piss with Lan Wangji, but I’m not going to, and I’m assuming, if you’re reading this, you aren’t either.

Wei Wuxian was delighted when he saw that Lan Wangji was also at the cold spring. He clearly went there for his wounds, but I think the wounds are all but completely forgotten as soon as he sees Lan Wangji.

I also love how shy Lan Wangji is, that as soon as he hears him coming, he immediately dresses again. He doesn’t leave, but he doesn’t want to be seen without his clothes on. That’s incredibly endearing to me that he is so modest. And then you have Wei Wuxian, who threatens to take off his clothes several times (although this is the only time he does it for reasons outside of teasing Lan Wangji). He does not care—he’s seemingly not modest about his appearance at all. I really do love all the contrast between these two characters—it’s not that they’re opposites of each other—it’s not that simple—but there is a lot of contrast which I think just keeps things interesting. I have nothing profound to say about it (or anything else, really), but I just find it really enjoyable to watch. And a side note, the contrast between Lan Wangji and Wang Yibo constantly leaves me in awe; it’s hard to believe that Yibo pulled off this character so well because he was such a goof on set.

Wwx: A lot of benefits come with being my friend.

Wwx: [immediately starts undressing]

I see what you did there, writers/directors.

But ironically, it turns out that a lot of not-so-beneficial things come from being his friend. Because Lan Wangji becomes so devoted to him, he ends up getting in a lot of trouble within his clan and without. Obviously he’d do it over and over if he had the choice, but the fact remains that Wei Wuxian becomes a pariah and, to a lesser extent, Lan Wangji was headed that way as well. Really, if Wei Wuxian hadn’t died, Lan Wangji might have ended up living with him in Yiling. That would have been quite interesting, actually.

I don’t care how many times I’ve seen this episode—this scene will kill me with its cuteness. Wei Wuxian so wants to be Lan Wangji’s friend here! He’s adorable! “Don’t leave me alone!” and “Come to Yunmeng, and I’ll pick lotus seeds for you!” and “There’s cute girls at Yunmeng!” Oh, wait, Lan Wangji doesn’t care about cute girls haha. I just love the change in the relationship. Wei Wuxian approves of and respects Lan Wangji and wants to be closer to him. It’s not just an interest or a fascination now—it’s something deeper. It’s the shared experience at Biling Lake, it’s the drunken confessions about their parents, it’s the 300 hits of the bastinado, and the secret cold spring pond where they can heal together.

Note how long it takes Lan Wangji to actually try to leave here. That’s telling enough on its own, how long Lan Wangji tolerates Wei Wuxian. He’s willing to put up with the jabbering and the endless chattering from Wei Wuxian. This is so much progress!

I have absolutely nothing to say here, other than that Yibo looks so fucking hot in this scene.

Because other than him and of course the headband, I find the stuff with Lan Yi to be kind of boring. I like her and all, but it’s just like, meh on all this Yin Iron stuff. I read about how this is just a big trope in cdrama, so it is what it is. Personally, I found the book to be compelling without all these shenanigans, but I understand that the written word doesn’t always translate well to the screen (especially when you are censoring the relationship between the two main characters).

Oh, and the rabbits are also fucking adorable. The more rabbits, the better.

Aaand now you’re married. Thanks, bye. Other episodes: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

[shmegmilton]

Can you explain how Aaron and Alexander stopped being friends and started fighting?

They were never really ‘friends.’ I assume you got that idea from the play, but I have no idea why the play tried to push that narrative. Civil? Sure, but that was necessary. New York was less than 50,000 people at the time, and they were both accomplished lawyers & statesmen who had to work and interact with each other on a daily basis. Politics is politics, look at how people are acting right now during our election. 

As for your question, it’s a long line of policy & personal disagreements, mostly. They were on opposite sides of the aisle on pretty much everything. Lots of small things, but a lot of big, BIG things.

     Burr was (ironically) kind of a pacifist; he kept mostly to himself, didn’t really speak much publicly & didn’t necessarily go out of his way to confront people unless he’s been pushed long enough (everyone ‘snaps’ at some point, y’know?)

But that’s why the ‘Burr is an evil mastermind’ myth is so pervasive today. Burr just… didn’t bother defending himself, or correcting anything, because he (mistakingly) had faith in the inherent goodness of people that someday people would see him for his true character. So for that reason, we don’t really have a good timeline from Burr’s perspective as to how he felt about Hamilton—but BOY howdy did Hamilton never shut up about Burr.

----

Trespass & Confiscation Acts  (1782ish)

     During the Revolution, the British confiscated the property of patriots that fled the city. New York did the same thing, & for a while it was this game of: ‘Oh, you’re gonna take my stuff? **draws a line in the dirt** Well, everything behind this line is mine now.” It was all very bad, and after the way Tories & Loyalists faced a lot of honestly very fucked up discrimination & forfeiture of their rights. Hamilton (like most Federalists) was pro-British, so he represented a lot of these people in court. I’m sure it wasn’t purely out of the goodness of his heart--most of his clients were loaded--but the sentiment is there. On the other hand, there are multiple records of Burr buying up property around this time, most likely confiscated Tory property, which he would usually flip or give away to people that he knew, so he was taking full advantage of this. Burr also, most likely, went head-to-head with Hamilton on a few of these cases, because Burr tended to work with the ‘common folk.’

French Revolution (1789ish to 1799ish) & Proclamation of Neutrality (1793)

     Burr (like most Democratic-Republicans) was pro-French, so much so that he took in French refugees fleeing the Revolution into his home. He was very sympathetic to the cause.Hamilton was not. He basically saw it the same way that right-wing Conservatives see the Black Lives Matter movement is the best way I can explain it. He also hated it for the amount of immigrants that were now fleeing to the U.S.

Burr Gets Chosen For NY Senate (1791)

     Key word: chosen. As in, he didn’t actually run. That wasn’t how politics worked back then. The Hamilton musical just fucking lied outright about that, let’s be clear. He also never switched parties. Ever. Back then you were nominated by the people who were already in government--usually by one of the powerful families like the Clintons or the Livingstons, or yada yada. So Burr didn’t actually do anything. He didn’t even really want the position either, if I recall. But back then if you were ‘called to serve,’ you were obligated to do it. Hamilton was furious either way because it meant that Burr was replacing his father-in-law, Phillip Schuyler, meaning that he wouldn’t have that extra ear in government that he wanted. Burr also had a lot of views that were considered ‘extreme’ at the time, like getting extra rights for women, immigrants & black people, but I have no idea what Hamilton thought of those individual policies other than he just didn’t like women, immigrants or black people.

1792 & 1796 Presidential Election

Burr wasn’t really that serious about either of these elections, I don’t think (in ’92 he wasn’t that well-known & barely got any support, but it’s worth noting the fact he was nominated to run at all was really impressive. He’s tied with William Jennings Bryan as being one of the youngest people to ever receive an electoral vote, at 36 years old.) In ’96 he faired a little better—he got 30 votes, which is nearly half of what you need to get the ticket nomination, also very impressive.Hamilton was super staunchly opposed to both of these runs, though, and did his typical Hamilton thing of openly campaigning about how the people shouldn’t vote for Burr, yada yada.

Jay Treaty (1794)

     I highly suggest looking up supplemental information on this because it’s a bit complicated, but it was basically a treaty between us and Great Britain to reaffirm that we were going to continue to not mess with France, as well as a couple of other weird hang-ups. It was not popular, at all, especially with the Demo-Republicans. There is a specific instance (that is actually kind of insane) where Hamilton gave a public speech in defense of it, and the Democratic-Republicans in the crowd started pelting him & the other Federalists with rocks. Hamilton got SO mad that immediately challenged a man to a duel, and threatened to fight each of the Democratic-Republicans one-by-one.  

Reynolds Affair (1797)

     Burr had a personal relationship with Maria Reynolds; he was her divorce attorney in 1793/1794, helped her out financially, & successfully petitioned (+paid for) her daughter Susan to attend a boarding school. I believe they also stayed in his him with him during the divorce proceedings, but don’t quote me on that. He never said anything publicly that I could find, but Burr probably had a personal investment in the Reynolds Pamphlet, since it painted Maria in a really damaging light.

Alien & Sedition Acts (1798)

     These were some of the most worst laws ever passed in the history of the country. Like, these were AWFUL. It not only limited immigration, but it limited the freedom of the press and freedom of speech (ESPECIALLY immigrants, my god.)

Burr was right on the front lines helping defend people in court, he actively opposed it & is probably the thing that propelled him into Jefferson’s orbit as a potential Vice President.

John Barker Church Duel (1797)

John Barker Church had accused Burr of taking bribes (which was unfounded & untrue) and they ended up dueling. JBC was the husband of Angelica Schuyler, Hamilton’s sister-in-law.

Neither was injured (though, JBC apparently put a hole in Burr’s coat), but it supposed infuriated Hamilton & his associates so much that they would send out fake letters “from Burr” challenging people to duels.

The Manhattan Company (1799)

    Burr was getting sick of the difficulty he was having getting loans from the Federalist-run banks and decided to do something about it. There had been several seasonal epidemics of yellow fever—caused by mosquitos but, at the time, it was thought to be caused by improperly treated water, miasma (‘bad air’) or (if you asked Hamilton) stinky evil immigrant refuges who were fleeing France and Haiti. Burr saw this and spearheaded a campaign to get a proper water treatment plant, even getting Hamilton to help him. Through some really weird loophole that I don’t quite understand, Burr was somehow allowed to use the ‘surplus capital’ for banking, which essentially turned it into a bank. The actual water treatment portion of the company was plagued with problems due to improper management and things like that.     We’ll never know his exact thought process on this (people normally assume it was malicious trickery because people are biased to hate Burr anyway) & I highly doubt that Burr knew the extent of the issues (he was on the Board of Directors, but so were a dozen others--INCLUDING John Barker Church) so I don’t entirely think it’s his fault, but the fact of the matter is that it most likely exacerbated the existing problems & indirectly led to more people getting sick/dying until they finally fixed the problems.I would say that it’s completely justifiable for Hamilton to be mad at Burr, but, as we established, Hamilton hated both poor people & immigrants (two groups most likely affected by this) so he wasn’t actually mad at him for the reason a… y’know, a normal person would be mad at him. He was mad at him because Burr destroyed the monopoly that Federalists had on banks, making it easier for Democratic-Republicans & others to get loans. He was literally mad at him for making the economy fair.

1800 Election & 1804 NY Governor Election

  These two are self-explanatory, I think, and I’ve already been writing way too long, lol. My hand hurts.

[that-shamrock-vibe]

Movie Review: Cruella

Disclaimer: This is my non-spoiler review for Cruella, posting either the day or the day after the movie is released in the U.K, so if you are yet to see the movie and want to go in with a clear head do not read on until you do.

General Reaction:

Cruella however, I knew from the first trailer I was determined to see in cinemas and the fact it was my first time back in cinemas seeing a movie, I could not think of a better opening play.

It has been a while not only since I have been to the cinema, but also since I watched a new movie. Anything new that has come to me through the lockdowns have been older movies that are new to me. I haven't watched movies on PVOD or Premier Accees because I don't want to pay for them while in my bedroom on a small television and also they don't interest me enough to pay for them.

And that's what this movie is, an origin story. It's a Disney live-action adaptation of a beloved Disney villain's origins, sound familiar? That's what fans originally believed Maleficent to be before it became a redemption story of sorts.

Cruella was the villain of One Hundred and One Dalmatians because she wanted to skin puppies to make a coat, but this movie isn't about that, despite there being some excellent foreshadowing and even reworking as a prequel to the original story, this movie is about how Cruella became Cruella, not necessarily how she became a villain but making the character more three-dimensional and layered.

Here, without going into spoilers, we do see the reasoning behind Cruella being the villain we love her for and it is very much a nature vs nurture style of moral, but it isn't done to the detriment of the villainy Cruella is known for.

What Disney and the creatives behind Cruella have done with this movie is not only take note with everything great and bad with the more recent Disney live-action movies and filter out the bad, but also the potential of movies like Maleficent and even Mulan to a degree which failed to live up to their promises creatively, have seemingly been reworked for this origin story.

Does that mean she's not a villain in this movie? Well while she's not the movie's primary antagonist, Cruella stays true to herself and doesn't compromise why fans love the original character, if anything she amplifies why she's such a great character.

Cruella is such a love letter to the 1970s punk rock era while also managing to not just be style over substance but deliver on story and character as well, that I can't imagine anyone having that much of a problem with it.

It's what I would honestly call an artisan's delight, I'm not creative in a fashion sense, I love fashion and it's a reason I connect with Cruella so much, but I couldn't do what she does. I'd possibly be the Artie of her gang if not Horace and honestly I'm okay with that. But the way fashion, music and visual storytelling is used in this movies rivals the 1996 live-action 101 Dalmatians in that sense when scenes largely focused on the dogs selling the scenes without speaking. A picture paints a thousands words and Cruella's eccentric fashions were scene stealers.

It's funny, it's dramatic, it's well acted and directed. The writing is brilliant with maybe one exception with the Baroness which we will discuss in the spoiler review.

Speaking of spoilers. Way back when this movie was first announced I believe in 2016 I was adamantly against it, I thought it was sacrilege and that it would not be a patch on the original movies.

That being said, since seeing that first trailer and that stunning dress reveal I was hooked and have since watched pretty much every single trailer and TV spot this movie could churn out to the point where I feel I saw the entire movie already...but I was wrong.

From the trailers if you think this movie is going to end at a certain point you'd be wrong. I could kinda tell when the movie was going to end based on how the scene was set up, but even then there's more to the story.

I mentioned how this movie foreshadowed to the original One Hundred and One Dalmatians story as a prequel of sorts but also how it rewrote history so to speak, again the mid credits scene blows my mind as a Dalmatians fan and it cries out for a sequel.

However, to sum up, the original 1961 animated One Hundred and One Dalmatians is to this day my favourite movie of all time. Dalmatians are my favourite dog breed despite the fact I currently own a frenchie pug and Cruella De Vil I believe to be my spiritual mother.

Usually in these reactions I'll give a quick recap of my opinions of the movie or franchise the one in question is a part of, but I feel I've spoken about my love of all things Cruella De Vil and One Hundred and One Dalmatians enough in the past to get the point across.

All that being said, I am trying to compartmentalise my thoughts and be unbiased in my opinions for this movie. But honestly if this movie was bad I'd be coming down the hardest out of any critic on it because of what the property means to me personally.

So yes, I am going to big this movie up because pretty much every single element in this movie is 99% perfect. There is room for improvement, but that's where a sequel comes in to not only capitalise but better itself. And keeping the same creative team and bringing back the same cast, I feel this will be the Disney sequel to break the mould just as Cruella is the Disney movie to break the mould

But I have hyped up the lore and the character enough, what do I think of the movie? Well as much as I praised the creatives behind the movie for such a fabulous movie, director Chris Gillespe is partially to blame for how the movie looks. It’s still a visually orgasmic movie in terms of how it portrays its artistic choices, but in terms of those scenes and shots that could’ve been and should’ve been as visually pleasing as the fashion and art shots, just don’t leave as striking and lasting an impression as those shots and scenes.

Cast:

Honestly upon the announcement, to the point where I made a rant session post about it, Emma Stone as Cruella just didn’t land with me upon said announcement. However, as I said since seeing the first trailer, Emma Stone is young Cruella for me.

Glenn Close for me is Cruella De Vil in live-action. Victoria Smurfit on Once Upon a Time was fabulous but in opinion an elseworlds version of Cruella because she had magic and her story wasn’t really in line with the source material. Now, without spoilers but because it’s an origin you kinda can guess, Emma Stone’s version isn’t really in line with the source material either and up until seeing the movie I was all for viewing this version as an elseworlds story. even after seeing it I am all for viewing it as an elseworlds story from the original source material.

But does that mean it’s bad? No it’s just different. As I said earlier this is definitely a more fleshed out three-dimensional version of the Cruella that the original animated version and Glenn Close’s adaptation delivered, but honestly I’m excited to know where this Cruella goes from after seeing this movie. This is my favourite Emma Stone performance to date.

As for the other Emma, Emma Thompson as the Baroness, well she and Stone’s Cruella not only capitalize on Meryl Streep’s The Devil Wears Prada performance, but also adds that extra layer that make both characters not only believable as people but also villains. There’s no mistaking Thompson’s Baroness is a villain, but she does it in the best way and has never looked more fantastic doing so.

This movie also humanizes Jasper and Horace for me, I’m still unsure as to their relationship, if they’re friends or brothers, but based on the fact Jasper is race-bent in this movie and Hotace is still caucasian I’m going with not. However, without spoilers, based on how they meet Cruella I’m in favour of them not being related and simply lost souls coming together. But yeah they’re both funny, you believe they’re Jasper and Horace there’s no thinking one should be the other, and the chemistry between Jasper and Cruella is so electric that it demands a pay off in a sequel and actually speaks to a problem I know some male fans (including me) may actually have with Cruella as a character.

The other biggest breakout in this movie is John McCrea as Artie, who is not only Disney’s first clearly openly LGBT character but a scene-stealer in every shot that he is in. I said I would probably be Artie or Horace in Cruella’s gang and I stand by that because I think Artie is who I’d want to be (aside from Cruella herself) but Horace is physically who I would be.

Then as for the side characters, the movie does an interesting turn on the Anita/Roger origin story, Mark Strong as the Alonzo substitute is mysterious and brilliant, and the dogs are again scene stealers. Aside from 3 dalmatians (who are still alive at the end) there are two completely original new dogs who are part of Cruella’s gang and whether or not it’s because I’m a dog lover and own a dog or just because of the dog’s direction, they just pull focus every scene and make the characters more sympathetic because of how they interact with them.

Is this a knockout movie? Unfortunately no, I feel mistakes are made that leave holes for trolls to swoop in, however, I don’t think they should/ Honestly uou cannot make the “live-action” The Lion King a billion dollar flick and then complain about this movie, this is original, brilliant and 95% well executed. Yes I’ve dropped from 99 and we will discuss the issues in the spoiler review.

Recommendation:

But honestly this movie is worth the watch, it deserves the watch. As for seeing it in cinemas vs. Disney+, I could say it’s worth the £20/$30, but to get a true feel of some of the bigger and better artistic scenes it demands a big screen viewing. Also support local cinemas and all that jazz.

So that’s my non-spoiler review for Cruella, what did you guys think? Post your comments and stay tuned for my spoiler review hopefully coming soon, meanwhile you can check out other Movie Reviews and posts.

[bigskydreaming]

Bottom line why the “Tim being fired as Robin was just like Bruce firing Dick, so Dick should’ve known better” thing bothers me so much is it manages to spin things to assume the worst of Dick in all scenarios, while never expecting any of the others to be accountable for their own reactions to being replaced.

What I mean is: if Dick ‘firing’ Tim as Robin and replacing him with Damian is just like Bruce doing the same with Dick and Jason....then why is Tim considered justified in resenting both Damian and Dick for this and holding a grudge for years....but any time Dick is mentioned as having initial animosity towards Jason, its painted as though he should have gotten over it?

Like, look at how mentions of Dick and Jason’s early interactions due to Dick’s rumored animosity to Jason are portrayed in fics....and tell me its anywhere close to as sympathetically rendered as Tim’s resentment towards his own situation is in fics.

Not to mention the facts that Dick didn’t take it out on Jason in canon, and it ISN’T the same as when Bruce fired Dick and made Jason the new Robin without telling him, because Robin WAS Dick’s to give away or share, in a way it never was Bruce’s to do so.

This name that they all have been written as resenting Dick because of, due to how he did or didn’t handle each successive passing of the torch, only EXISTS because of him and his homage to his family. And its so fucked up that the one guy who gets the brunt of the others’ grudges in regards to it, is the one and ONLY person who should have ever had control over its succession in the first place.

Imagine if after Bruce’s parents had been murdered, members of WE’s board of directors bribed people to rob Bruce of his inheritance and control of WE, and had him taken from Alfred and shoved into the system. Imagine if he’d been told Gotham isn’t a good fit for a traumatized kid like him and been taken away from everything he knew and was familiar with and sent to another city to grow up in. If he didn’t have his house anymore, or his belongings, or his parents’ portraits or heirlooms, or anything else that tied him to his parents, his family, the generations that had inhabited his family home before him....imagine if the only thing he had left of all that, the only thing tying him to everything he was ripped away from and not allowed to keep, the only thing he brought with him to this new place he now was expected to grow up in, that he didn’t have to be given by his new guardians....was his mother’s pearl necklace, that let’s say Bruce managed to pocket and hang onto the night they died.

Imagine saying that ANYONE could EVER be justified in taking that pearl necklace, the ONLY thing in this world that is definitively Bruce’s....and giving it away. Demanding he share it or let others wear it. Arguing ‘well its not like you’re wearing it/getting any use out of it/you just keep it lying in a drawer.’

Because that’s what Robin is to Dick. Its his pearl necklace, the only real piece of his family history he could hold onto, that the system couldn’t take away from him, force him to give up.

That’s the thing that’s been passed around and that Dick so often ends up resented for, for having the NERVE to act even slightly possessive of, or like, daring to imagine it might actually be HIS to designate who wears the mantle and when. 

Even acknowledging that his brothers have of course added their own bits of family history to it now, does not change the fact that Robin did not exist to BE Batman’s partner. Robin existed because Dick was going to do this whether he had help or not, as we’re so often told in multiple versions of canon, and the only reason Bruce ever let a kid out on the streets to fight crime was because he knew he couldn’t stop him and so figured this was his best chance of keeping him safe. And Robin specifically was the guise and symbolism Dick chose to conduct his own mission in. The name ONLY has meaning because of the meaning it carried for Dick, and that Dick in turn gave to it in the eyes of others. 

Like, if you imagine that for a family of entertainers, they saw their life’s work as being about making peoples’ lives a little brighter, lighter, more hopeful after they walked out of their shows than when they’d first walked in......then of course Robin made Batman’s existence brighter, was the light to his darkness, as Tim saw it by the time he became Robin. But not because Dick was TRYING to be that for BATMAN....but because Dick was trying to be that for GOTHAM, period....and Batman by virtue of being at his side, received the most tangible benefits of that. 

But that doesn’t mean it was intended that way, it was merely a byproduct due to proximity. And the more the characters and fandom try and cut out Dick as ‘the middle man’ between Batman and their versions of Robin, instead of paying actual acknowledgment to Dick’s place in all of this, the more it ends up that like....this one thing that the member of the Batfamily most INSISTENT on having his own identity outside of Bruce’s partner/shadow/heir, the ONE thing he had that didn’t come from Bruce or the Batfamily, this one thing that was his and his alone, his continuation of his family’s work just in his own new way.....its become like, completely in service to Bruce and his legacy and lineage.

And that’s so...so....blergh. 

Robin was Batman’s partner situationally. But Robin was created to connect to a family legacy that only Dick is a nexus point for, because he’s the lynch pin between generations of Flying Graysons and each new sibling to be named Robin.

And to then on top of it try to box Dick out of his connection to it more and more with each succession, like with all the others bearing some kind of grudge or resentment towards the guy who was FORCED to share this in the first place, not even asked, but just EXPECTED to make his peace with it.....and to say that Dick doing this to anyone, at any point, for any reason, could possibly be the same as Bruce taking it and giving it to someone else....

Yeah.....

The other Robins are NOT the victims of Dick’s like....entitled handling of HIS family legacy. They’re just not. There’s no way, shape or form, in which anyone EVER has more of a right to the name, colors and mantle of Robin than Dick himself. 

And this isn’t a slight against any of the others at all? It doesn’t make them lesser as Robins, because how could it, if Robin makes them all brothers, makes them family, and the original Robin has always said hey, Robin means family, and that’s how we’re brothers.

Its not about ranking them or anything like that, its simply about context.

Jason has Gotham itself. He’s frequently written both in comics and fanon as though like...he’s OF Gotham in a way that even Bruce isn’t, that he’s part of it, part of the streets of the city, its people, its neighborhoods, in a way that none of the rest of the Batfamily ever can compare to. And the others acknowledge this in various ways, in both canon and fanon.

Tim has Drake Industries, his inheritance from his parents, his family name on tons of buildings all bearing the name Drake due to his first family’s contributions to the city and the footprint they left on it. And again, Tim’s status as the heir of Drake Industries is frequently acknowledged in various ways, in canon and fanon.

Same with Damian’s legacy from his mother’s side and his grandfather - for better or worse, its very much acknowledged as being THERE, and his connection to prior generations, and while Cass would likely be more than glad for more distance between her and reminders of her parents, those connections are everpresent in everyone else’s eyes as much as hers.

Only Dick’s connection to HIS past and and his family’s history is like....CONSISTENTLY claimed and appropriated, without anyone ever thinking this is a problem. Sidelined more and more with each new Robin, as the others’ gripes with Dick over his ‘mishandling’ of HIS family inheritance, essentially, all compound and group together, resulting in Dick’s brothers finding solidarity AGAINST him in the name of like...their issues with how he views HIS freaking legacy.

Siiiiiiiiiiiigh.