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likeiwishiknew · 4 years ago

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Azriel x Gwyn - Small Fires

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They had agreed to meet at Rhys and Feyre’s house by the river.

It was easier to have Lucien meet them there than to have him winnow part way to the House of Wind.

Azriel would admit he was in no rush to see the firey male. However, this wasn’t about what he wanted. But rather what Gwyn needed.

He’d truthfully never seen her angry before. Frustrated, stubborn, fierce, he’d seen that. Her anger at Devlon’s inaction, on the other hand, had been another story entirely. At first, Azriel had thought he'd imagined it. The shimmer to her skin, the spark just under the surface. Until he’d felt the heat rolling off of her and caught sight of fire flaring to life in her hands. Only then had he been certain it wasn’t his imagination.

He knew in that instant that he had needed to get her the hell out of that camp. The Illyrians had hardly been welcoming, but they’d be even less so if they further learned Gwyn's origins. They'd already considered her an outsider. The last thing anyone needed was for the Illyrians to deem her a threat.

Azriel did not fear them, not in the slightest. But he also wasn’t stuck living among them. Emerie was. And if Gwyn had done this for anyone it was Emerie. To see all her efforts de-railed by the blood that ran through her veins, something she had no say in, he refused to let that happen.

When they’d arrived at the house Lucien had been standing silently / sitting silently observing Elain with a thoughtful look on his face.

Elain appeared to be ignoring him as usual, though, as always, she did not send him away. She never did. Azriel had never noted so before, but now it was plain to see. Although an undercurrent of unease sat between them, neither of them ever fled the other’s presence.

Strangely enough, neither the realization did not bother him.

Instead, it was the fact that as soon Gwyn stepped into the room Lucien’s head turned her direction. The other male’s awareness of Gwyn, that bothered him.

What’s more, as soon as Lucien’s eyes landed on her he smiled.

Lucien stood up from where he sat and approached them. Elain did not move from her seat, but Azriel did not miss the brief flicker of her eyes toward Lucien’s back as he moved away from her.

Gwyn stepped forward to meet the male halfway.

She smiled at him fondly, earnestly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And Azriel found himself disliking the other male more than ever.

- - -

Gwyn was surprised when Azriel had been the one to suggest bringing Lucien to meet her. She had a distinct impression that the two did not get along and that the feeling was entirely mutual. Which was a shame, because she quite liked both their company.

“Is everything alright Little Red?” Lucien asked as soon as he was close, “Rhysand was rather vague in his request that I come and see you.”

“I’m okay,” she assured him, “But there is something I think you should see.”

Lucien’s face grew concerned but he remained silent, waiting for her to elaborate. Rather than say anything, Gwyn decided it best to try and show him.

Exhaling, she focused on her hands, tried to summon the flames and ignite her palms as she had in Devlon’s presence.

But nothing happened.

Maybe focus was not enough.

Gwyn thought about what she’d been feeling when the incident had happened. Her anger, her frustration, her desperation to not feel helpless. She attempted to recapture those feelings as she tried harder to call upon the fire.

Gwyn glanced down at her hands as she began to feel the tiniest kiss of heat.

No flames lit, but her skin had begun to glow a faint orange and she could sense the heat further building beneath her skin. Thus, she doubled down on the negative feelings she’d felt back at the camp and soon enough the tiniest flames flickered to life at her fingertips.

Looking up, she saw those very flames reflected in Lucien’s eyes. A slight smirk graced his lips.

“I suppose you truly do have fire in your blood, Little One.”

She could tell from his smile that he was remembering their previous conversation, and so Gwyn found herself smiling back. Far easier than they’d come, the flames faded. But she could still feel the warmth sitting just under her skin.

Lucien must’ve sensed it as well because he reached for her, but before he grasped her wrist he looked to her for permission. She gave him a single nod. And so, Lucien took her wrist in one hand and ran a finger along her veins. Likely getting a feel for her power.

“You’ll need training, to control it properly,” he commented.

She nodded again.

She’d had the same thought. Fire was a beautiful but equally destructive element. Gwyn knew well enough that she could not afford to lose control of it.

Like any skill, she would need to work on it, hone it. That was surely why Azriel had asked for Lucien to be brought to her in the first place, and she was grateful he’d had the foresight to know that she’d want to learn.

They were the same in that regard, she and Azriel. Both of them were always eager to learn, to acquire more knowledge.

She’d learned that back when they’d first grown close. It was one of the reasons Gwyn had known she could trust him.

Those willing to learn, who sought knowledge, were rarely if ever, bad people.

Gwyn would certainly have her work cut out for her though, with all the revelations this week.

She had hoped to learn more about her heritage and wound up discovering new abilities she knew next to nothing about. At least, they were new to her.

But the sooner she could get some grasp on them the better.

Lucien’s voice cut through her thoughts.

“Come stay with me, I will train you.”

- - -

Lucien wanted to take her away. That was the last thing he caught of their conversation.

His shadows cried out their objection, to which Azriel agreed. He all but glowered at the male standing not so far from him. Not that Lucien noticed or even cared.

Before he could speak up in objection, Nesta beat him to it.

“Not a chance on hell, Vanserra,” the eldest Archeron sister spat, probably with more venom than was necessary.

He could always count on Nesta to speak her mind. Though at times it was to her detriment.

“Nesta,” Gwyn chastised, looking back over her shoulder at her friend, “Should it not be my choice?”

From the shock, upon Nesta’s face, it was clear the female had not been anticipating her friend’s response. Azriel had certainly not.

“You wish to leave the Night Court?” Nesta asked, her surprise evident in her voice.

“I did not say that, but I should like to have the chance to think about it,” Gwyn replied, turning back Lucien who'd kept his eyes focused on her the entire time.

“May I?” she asked the male.

Lucien nodded, “Of course.”

No one else in the room spoke up in favor or against the idea.

Elain was silent but her hand stilled on her flower arrangement she'd been working on the moment Lucien had made the suggestion. Nesta was clearly not excited about the prospect. Feyre, of course, eyed her sister worriedly, no doubt fearing Nesta would say something damaging she couldn’t take back. And naturally, his two brother’s moods were reflective of their mates. Cassian ready to step in should he need to, and Rhysand no doubt communicating silently with Feyre through their bond.

While Gwyn didn’t see Lucien as anything other than potential family, Azriel wasn’t so sure about the other male. Gwyn may very well belong to the Autumn Court, but that did not necessarily mean they were actually related.

And while Lucien might be mated to Elain, perhaps the other male might finally be considering abandoning the effort. It had been years now, and not all males were as foolish as himself. Content to wait around years in the hopes that something might change. It was quite possible, Lucien might entertain the idea of walking away.

Hearing Gwyn’s words to Nesta, that she would consider going off with Lucien to stay with his band of misfits left Azriel feeling cold. As though, if she went, Azriel would again find himself losing to the Autumn Prince. But as soon as he had the thought, he chased it away. Gwyn was not some prize to be won or lost. He knew that.

It took a moment, but Lucien finally seemed to read the tension in the room.

“If the idea of leaving makes you uneasy I have no issue with coming here to see you,” he offered, then, seeming to give it some further thought, looked to Feyre and Rhys, “Assuming I’m welcome move about the Night Court freely?”

Rhys appeared to consider this, whereas Feyre answered almost immediately.

“Of course you can,” his High Lady spoke with a smile.

Once upon a time, Lucien had been her first and only friend in the realm of Fae. Though Feyre never admitted it, he knew the rift in their relationship saddened her. Rhys knew it too. But there was nothing that could be done to fix it. Too much had happened, too much time had passed. One day they might find their way back to each other, but it would be no easy task.

Personally, he did much like the idea of seeing more of the Autumn Princeling. But if it was for Gwyn’s sake he’d learn to deal with it.

It was far better than the alternative.

- - -

Sometime after dinner, as talk again returned to a discussion over Gywn’s situation, along with that of the remaining mortal queens, Elain had managed to wander off.

As Gwyn was busy speaking with Nesta and Lucien, Azriel took it upon himself to check on the middle Archeron sister.

Unsurprisingly, he found her in the garden with her rose bush. The gloves Lucien had gifted her all those years protecting her delicate hands. She’d never thanked the other male for the gift, but Azriel had noted countless times how often she’d used them.

“How are you feeling about Lucien being here more often?” he asked.

She said nothing at first, only halting briefly in her pruning.

“He won’t exactly be here, will he?” Elain responded. Her tone sounding odd.

No, he supposed she was right. He wouldn’t be visiting the river house, but rather the House of Wind. But who was to say, given free reign, that he would not try and come to see his mate. Then again, as much as he disliked Lucien, the male was never one to appear uninvited.

“Have you ever thought about how much easier things might have been if you and I were mates?” she questioned softly.

Azriel blinked once, surprised by the turn-in conversation. But he knew the answer well enough.

He had.

But the cauldron had not seen it fit to bless him with a mate.

However, he had once coveted the beauty before him. Their attraction mutual, as far as he could tell.

“Yes,” he found himself admitting, “I have.”

- - -

Gwyn wound up in the small library of Rhysand and Feyre’s home. Though to call it small might’ve been a bit of an insult. It simply wasn’t as large as the once housed in the House of Wind. But it was nice, tidy, private. And she needed that bit of privacy right about now.

Gwyn dropped into one of the chairs by the window.

Azriel had wanted Elain for a mate.

The very idea broke her heart. A new crack forming among the many scars that already ran across it.

A single tear escaped from the corner of her eye, but she wiped it away almost as quickly as it came. Which was just as well, because not a moment later she heard a knock.

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Lucien standing in the doorway. Normally, she’d have no issue detecting him. But clearly, her heightened emotions had her distracted.

It took a mere second for him to take in her face. His mood immediately shifted as he approached her. His long strides closing the distance between them with ease. Lucien sat down in the seat opposite her and placed a gentle hand on her knee.

“Little One, what’s wrong?” he voiced, concerned.

Gwyn pressed her lips together, inhaling deeply she forced herself to push the feelings down and keep the tears at bay.

“I’m an idiot,” she confessed.

Lucien straightened at that, “What?”

Her foolishness did not require explaining. It was Elain. It’d always been her. The necklace, everything...

Why had she done this to herself? Why had she gone and allowed her hopes to flourish again?

Gwyn shook her head, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

From the look on his face, Lucien obviously did not want to let it go at that. But he conceded to her all the same.

“Alright,” he let out reluctantly.

The male stared at her with thoughtful eyes.

“My offer to take you away from this place still stands,” Lucien spoke softly, as though fearing someone might hear, “Clearly, something here has upset you. I will take you away from it, should you wish.”

She appreciated his willingness to help her by any means. In truth, Gwyn hardly knew anything about Lucien. Only second-hand stories she’d heard from Nesta and the others. But she found something about him inherently trustworthy. Her gut insisted that he would not hurt her, and she was inclined to believe it.

She’d been honest when she’d said she would consider his offer. The idea of leaving the comfort and security of the library, the Night Court, left her feeling a tad apprehensive. But in recent months Gwyn had started to learn to push past that feeling.

Lucien’s idea made sense from a practical standpoint. It would get her out of her comfort zone, and she’d have a teacher readily available. She knew she’d be safe. After all, if Emerie could manage to live among men she loathed. Gwyn could certainly learn to live with Lucien.

Yet despite knowing that, she still felt uneasy.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to leave,” she admitted.

She’d miss everyone, Nesta, Cassian, her fellow priestess’...Azriel.

Lucien said nothing in response, only sat there quietly, ready to listen.

“I know it sounds silly. It’s not as though I’m leaving to never return again. It’s just, the idea of being away...it feels strange. For years now, this place, this court has been my life. My home.”

But then Gwyn was struck with the realization that she hadn’t this way when she’d wound up staying at the Illyrian camp. She hadn’t felt as though she’d left home at all.

Because Azriel been there with her.

Her throat ached at the thought.

He wanted someone else. Had always wanted someone else, despite the fact that the female already had a mate. A mate who happened to be sitting right in front of Gwyn now. She wondered if Lucien knew. Though she supposed, he had to.

He might not have been as old as three males of the Inner Circle, but he’d certainly been around long enough to learn how to read other’s intentions.

And yet he did nothing. He did not pressure Elain, nor did he seem to hold any resentment toward her for entertaining the company of another male. He also never returned her coldness toward him. Lucien was only ever the patient mate, waiting on the sidelines for the female the Cauldron destined for him to make her decision.

Gwyn wondered how long he’d be willing to wait.

She found herself almost envious of the other female. She wondered what that must be like, to be wanted, to be adored. Until she remembered something her mother had always said. That envy was one of the worst sins. It could twist even the purest hearts into wicked things.

She refused to go down that path.

Gwyn had plenty in her life to be thankful for. She would not ask nor demand more.

She was content. Gwyn had friends who were like family. A possible family that she might one day reunite with. Every day she grew stronger and more skilled in combat, more capable of fighting for herself and those she loved should war descend upon them.

If she could gain mastery over her fire, she would prove stronger still.

“A home will always be a home, if it is where you are meant to be you’ll always find a way back,” Lucien said, his voice close to a whisper.

She stared up at him, to find him watching her.

“I will never force you to do anything you do not want to or are not comfortable with. I only want you to understand that you will always have options and that in your life the only one with the right decide what you do is yourself.”

The way he spoke, she could tell his words were as much a reminder for him as they were for her.

“I know first-hand what it feels like to believe you have no other choice. It leads one to make mistakes one can never take back.”

Gwyn eyed him with concern, “Have you done something you regret Lucien?”

His eyes saddened, “Far too many things.”

She wanted to reach out to him, hug him, and tell him that she believed in his goodness. That his mistakes alone surely did not define him. But Gwyn wasn’t sure that was what he wanted, and so she held back.

Lucien rubbed her head and gave her a small, almost bittersweet, smile as he rose from his seat.

"Let me know what you decide, Little Red,” he said briefly before departing without another word.

With him gone, she was once again left alone in the library with her thoughts. And what a great many she had.

- - -

They’d returned to the House of Wind rather late that night, after having had dinner at the river house.

Cassian and Nesta had gone off together almost immediately upon their return. In the months since their mating, their hunger for each other had yet to subside. Though, if they were anything like Rhys and Feyre, it was likely it never would.

He was happy for his brothers, even if it left him feeling a bit green with envy at every reminder.

Gwyn had not said much to him on the way back. But he’d overheard her telling Nesta that she intended to work out in the training ring despite the late hour. Something about needing that time to think.

And so, after he’d gotten his own affairs in order, Azriel headed up to the ring to find her.

As he neared Azriel could sense his shadows begin to dance. They moved as though in time with a song he himself could not quite hear.

Reaching the archway, he caught sight of Gwyn. Her movements were rhythmic and fluid, the sword she was wielding a perfect extension of her arm.

She must’ve sensed him because she stopped what she was doing and turned his way.

Their eyes met, but her expression did not change. It remained perfectly neutral. A practiced look that he all too easily recognized, because it was one he enacted almost every day of his life. The sight of it on her face fed his growing concern.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked.

It took her a moment, but she nodded, “I have a lot to think about.”

In that regard, he agreed with her. The last few days had no doubt proven life-changing for her. She’d awoken abilities she’d never even known she had. But something in her tone, in her voice, in her steady effort to keep her neutral expression in place gave her away to him.

“You’re honestly considering leaving with him.”

Neither of them needed to clarify who it was Azriel spoke of. They both knew.

Yet for some reason, Gwyn appeared surprised at his directness. Her beautiful eyes widening a fraction in response. But she did not speak up in denial. They stared at each other a moment longer before she managed an answer.

“Perhaps,” she admitted.

Azriel found himself stepping into the ring, closing the distance between them.

“Why?” he found his voice rising, “Lucien has already offered to teach you here.”

And he’d come to terms with that, but the idea of Gwyn leaving? He had not prepared himself for that.

She inhaled, before answering, “I know.”

Then why were they having this discussion?

“But it might do me some good to see what lies beyond the borders of the Night Court.”

Azriel did not want to trap her here. He would never dream of it. He had always been supportive of her broadening her horizons, seeing the world. She deserved a chance to learn, to live.

Yet something had him fearing her leaving in this current state. As though, if she left now she might not come back. He could not explain why he thought this, but he felt the certainty of it in his very bones.

“You said you wouldn’t leave,” he attempted to say, only to realize that wasn’t what they'd agreed on.

“When did I say that?” she naturally responded.

He corrected his wording, “You said you wouldn’t run from me.”

- - -

His words struck her, leaving her unsure as to what to say.

She wasn’t running from him. Was she?

“I’m not running from you, Azriel,” Gwyn found herself insisting, “This isn’t about you. It’s about me, how I feel.”

She wasn’t lying about that, not exactly. Gwyn had tried to put her growing feelings for Azriel aside to protect their friendship, but the more time they spent together the harder that was proving to be.

Gwyn had believed she’d been successful right up until their time in the Illyrian camp. When she’d come face to face with the prospect of Azriel with another. The sight had left her with an ache in her chest, and though he’d run after her to assure her there was nothing going on between him and the female it did not mean that he wouldn’t have a relationship with someone else in the future.

That someone might be Elain or it might not. All that mattered was she could not behave the way she had at camp. Little by little she had to learn to let these feelings go. Because locking them away clearly wasn’t working.

Distance might help save what was between them.

“You’re lying,” Azriel insisted, “I’m not sure why but there’s something you aren’t being honest about. I can feel it.”

His observation left her feeling angry.

“Stop that,” she shouted, “Stop trying to see into my head, my heart. You have no right.”

For the briefest of moments, Gwyn found herself blaming him for her inability to let go. He was the one sending her mixed signals, acting as though he might want something more with her only to turn around and admit to wanting another female as his mate.

Her feelings were to mostly blame, but he was not faultless. How could she let him go when he seemed to not want her to?

“Gwyn,” he said almost pleadingly.

But she could not do this. Not now when her emotions were running high, clouding her judgment.

“I need to go. Try to get some rest. I’m sure I have a lot to catch up on with Merrill in the morning.”

His face shuttered.

“I see.”

He said nothing else.

And so she moved past him, leaving him standing there in the ring alone.

- - -

It had been days and still nothing.

After her discussion with Lucien in the library, Rhysand had found her there.

When she’d started to apologize for wandering off, he’d brushed it off and reassured her he did not mind her presence in the library.

Instead, he’d asked her a favor. The High Lord had explained to her his suspicions about the book she and Azriel had encountered in the library. Both he and his second in command, Amren, believe that the book was related to one of two things. True witches or the true immortals. Both of which would prove dangerous if it fell into the wrong hands.

When she’d questioned the High Lord about owning the book he admitted that he’d never come across such a thing, had not even known it existed amongst the vast collection of books he’d inherited.

Rhysand had tasked her with finding the book, by any means necessary. Gwyn had been trying for the last week or so and still she had nothing to show for it. She’d tried asking the House. She’d checked the library archives for any mention of such an ancient tome, and she’d all but searched every single shelf on the floor she and Azriel had been on when it appeared.

Wherever the book was, she felt rather certain it was content to remain hidden there.

The hours she’d spent had not been a complete waste though. It gave her a distraction.

Busy as she was, she almost forgot about the argument she’d had with Azriel. If it could be called an argument.

But he needed to understand that if she chose to leave it would be because it was what was best for her, not because she was running away from anything. She knew better than anyone that there were two things in life you could never outrun, the past and your own feelings.

So for now, she would remain in the Night Court. Not for Azriel, but for herself. Because she felt there was something she was meant to do here, and she had a strong inclination it had something to do with the book she'd been tasked with finding.

And she would find it, one way or another.

- - -

He sat with Nesta and Elain in the living room of Rhys and Feyre’s home.

Elain held Nyx within her arms, the little rascal giggling wildly as she played peekaboo with him.

Azriel himself wasn’t particularly familiar with the game, but both Nesta and Feyre had assured him and the others that it was a common practice in the mortal realm. Along with pretending to steal a child’s nose, which, personally, made no sense to him.

Then again, many mortal traditions did not.

Cassian was speaking with Rhys and Feyre. Nesta had intended to join them, but Azriel had asked to speak to her first. It was something that had seemed to surprise all of them.

In fact, Cassian had made some joke about it. Not that he’d paid much attention to it.

No, he’d kept quiet until he and Nesta were alone. Well, aside from Elain and Nyx.

The four of them sat under the warm afternoon sun in the garden that Elain tended to.

“Gwyn wouldn’t be avoiding you over nothing,” Nesta remarked.

He knew that of course. But days had passed since he’d last seen her and he was no closer to figuring out what it was that had caused the sudden shift in her attitude toward him. She still hadn’t chosen to take Lucien up on his offer to spirit her away from the Night Court.

According to Nesta, the other male had agreed to come once a week to meet with Gwyn. And so he was due for a visit soon. Azriel needed to fix the rift between him and Gwyn before then.

“Do you think she could’ve overheard our conversation in the garden that day?” Elain spoke up, as she lifted Nyx off the ground to spin him around.

Nesta eyed Azriel, “What conversation?”

He gave it some thought and realized Elain might be right.

Usually, his shadows alerted him when anyone approached, but that often wasn’t true when it came to Gwyn. And the timeline made perfect sense. They’d been fine when they’d left the Illyrian camp and when they’d first arrived at the river house. It hadn’t been until after dinner when they were getting ready to return to the House of Wind that Azriel had noted the strangeness in her mood.

If that was the case he could easily understand how his words might’ve been misconstrued.

Azriel had admitted to once wishing that Elain was his mate. It stood to reason Gwyn might think he still felt that way.

But, if so, why hadn’t she said anything to him about it?

He considered this a mere second before the answer grew obvious.

What reason had he given her too?

Closing his eyes, Azriel took a deep breath.

He knew now what he needed to do.

~ ~ ~

Notes: Sorry this one is coming to you a little late. I’ve been a bit of a mini rut this week between writing this fanfic and working on my own original story. I also haven’t been reading much these past few weeks, my free mostly spent watching baking shows, so I’ve been a bit short on inspiration. And I do not like putting anything out that I do not enjoy reading myself. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy the end product of my toil.

As always, any feedback is appreciated =)

~ ~ ~

@azrielsshadowsdanceforgwyn @bittermuire @ofstarsanddreams @corrdolium @toolazymyguy @inkdrinkershadowsinger @itswrongsong @dealingdifferentdevils @rhysmoira

@brucexselina @inejjg @rhysmoira @gwynnight @fairytamy @bluegold08 @amandapearls @highqueentaey @lioness-says @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @princessofmerchants-reads @cantkeepmyeyesoffofyou-x

@my-fan-side @spookylightkidranch @velaaaris @keramzinskies @itswrongsong @mirubyjane

@lovelywordsandwine @ladygwynriel @parisakamali @mirubyai

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #acosf #sarah j maas #gwynriel #azriel x gwyn #azwyn #love #otp #fanfiction #read on ao3 #ao3 update #friendship #romance #nesta archeron #gwyneth berdara

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shiftytracts · 4 years ago

Text

Stop Wanting More, part 1 of 2 (T/M/A fic)

In which season-four Jon tries to quiet his hunger for live statements by gorging himself on paper ones, and Daisy tells him what she used to do when she got shaky between hunts. Part two here.

…For almost ten thousand words (~5.1k in this half, ~4.3 in the other), beeeecause of course I did.

Content warnings:

Disordered eating (mainly of the statement variety, but mentions also the literal kind)

Nausea, and brief descriptions of prior vomiting

Brief but not-ungraphic description of Jon’s (canon) Boneturning incident—so, injury, very mild body horror

Vague discussion of Daisy’s passive suicidality (in part two)

Animal cruelty and death: Daisy talks about hunting rats for sport (in part two)

—

Jon paused the tape recorder, closed his eyes, and tried to breathe. A statement’s second-to-last page was the hardest to get down. The dull ache that had begun under his ribs twenty minutes before now stretched down far enough to converge with the one in his stiff hips. His pulse throbbed in his stomach; he could feel it swell and recede beneath his hand with every beat. Nausea boomeranged up from somewhere under his navel. He reminded himself he could stop for now, finish this later—and, as always, that thought made him feel even colder than the sludge of other people’s fear pooling in his stomach. With his free hand Jon pressed Record again, and turned to 0101702’s final page. Oh, god, there was barely anything on it. Just the rest of this paragraph and then one more. He kept his eyes on the page, didn’t stop speaking its words, but fumbled blindly for another statement with his fingers.

“Knock knock,” Daisy said as she entered. “Christ—you’re still recording?”

In a flash Jon folded his hands on the table, sat up a little straighter, tried to suck in his gut. “Er—”

“Thought you said you were gonna do one more.”

“I’m almost done.”

“You’ve got another one right there.”

“I…” he considered I’m sorry, but then she’d say For what. “I don’t know what to tell you. It is my office.”

“Yeah, and your home,” Daisy scoffed—“and mine. Sort of.”

“D—did you want…? You’re welcome, to. Sit down, or….”

She did, on the arm of his couch. “I know, Jon. That’s not what I meant.”

“Okay.” To show he’d meant his welcome, Jon pushed his chair back from his desk and turned in it to face Daisy. Hopefully she’d remember he couldn’t ask What did you mean.

“I mean, don’t pretend this is work. How many statements have you had today? You don’t think that one can wait til tomorrow?”

Seven? Or would this one be eight. Jon forced himself to exhale out the portion of gut he’d been holding back since she arrived; it hurt too much to keep sucking in anyway. “A lot. I’m just.”

“Hungry, yeah.”

“Even when I’m stuffed I’m hungry.” He snarled a laugh, and set a rueful hand over his stomach like a fig leaf.

At first he’d tried sating the hunger with garden-variety food. That didn’t help much. Way back when he’d first transferred to the Archives Jon had fallen back into the old habit of forgetting to eat—which, yeah, not great, but, it did mean he remembered well how amazing it used to feel to cram down even a stale biscuit after too many hours’ inanition. All the hidden notes he’d found in yogurt and dry toast. He even remembered tearing up once at the taste of a banana, early in 2016. Before that he’d been sure he didn’t like bananas; afterward, for a short while he’d eaten one nearly every day, hoping vainly to recapture the ecstasy of banana after 14-hour fast. No luck, of course. After a few weeks he’d concluded he still didn’t much like banana as final course of healthy lunch. He’d especially disliked peeling them: how sometimes the stems bent without breaking, and the more times you tried the warmer, softer, more flexible they got. How little strings of peel still clung to the banana after you peeled off its main body, like static when you pull off a jumper. Or like the lint it leaves behind on your shirt. And the way bananas bruise, like people do. All these vestiges of its previous life—reminders it had lived to feed itself rather than him.

Since the coma, all people food—er. That was, all food intended for human consumption—tasted like that chase after a faded spark. Cloying and mushy and… organic, reminding him too much of the garden it came from. And the way it landed in his stomach was far worse. The original banana, the one Martin had pressed on him in the Archives in April 2016, had gone down like nectar, ambrosia, manna from heaven, &c.; the ones afterward, like an unwanted dessert always does. (Cloying. Mushy. A biology lesson mildly tapping its watch.) These days, though, eating regular dinner on a stomach empty of other people’s trauma felt like trying to fill up on cake. Not like cake after fourteen hours of nothing; Jon was pretty sure his 2016 stomach would have welcomed that. But like cake at dinner time. When you’re expecting, you know. Dinner. It gave him the brief, fake-seeming energy of a sugar high, and made him sick before it made him full.

Especially when he was otherwise ailing, for some reason? After Hopworth he’d treated himself to a lie down and a sandwich. The rest had helped, but he’d squandered most of the energy it gave him on the effort to keep the sandwich down. At that moment nothing, not even the coffin, had scared him so much as the thought of what it would feel like to throw up when you had only ten ribs on one side. He hadn’t expected losing them to hurt, at least not for long—had expected the rib to flow out of his skin into Jared Hopworth’s hand like an ice cube through water, which in retrospect was stupid given the testimony of Mr. Pryor in statement 0081103, but he hadn’t had time to reread that one beforehand and at the time Jon remembered only that Hopworth didn’t break his victims’ skin when he pulled out their bones. Turned out that wasn’t much comfort: he’d still had to break the ligaments attaching Jon’s ribs to his spine and chest. It had felt like a bad dislocation (four of them, technically), only instead of the feeling of bone pressing on things it shouldn’t there was an equally violating sense of tissue wallowing in holes that shouldn’t be there. He’d had this horror that if he were sick the flesh would crumple and pop where his ribs used to be, like when you try to suck the remaining water out of a near-empty bottle.

A few months after that he’d caught cold. (A point in the still-human column, Daisy had called it.) You know the first day or two of a cold, before the encroaching mucus takes out your ability to smell or taste properly, how innocuous olfactory phenomena like cheddar and laundry soap suddenly become Bad Smells, on par with the olive bar at a posh supermarket? Well, in a similar way, this one seemed to sharpen the dichotomy in his body’s opinions of people food and monster food. His lack-of-ribs had mostly healed by then though, so either vomiting with only ten ribs on one side did not cause the anomaly he’d feared, or, if it did, it hadn’t hurt enough for him to notice it in the cacophony (pucophony?) of other sensations.

(Daisy liked to play on words, so he’d been doing it more lately. This project the Eye seemed happy to help with, though in this case the suggestion arrived in his mind at the exact same moment as a reminder that, technically, the word cacophony can apply to sensations other than sound only by synecdoche.)

And then, a few weeks ago, when the whole Archives went down with norovirus… well, it wasn’t a fun time. He’d at first mistook the lethargy, weakness, trouble concentrating for signs of hunger—the new kind of hunger. Ms. Mullen-Jones’ statement about the Divine Chains cult hadn’t seemed all that bad, when he’d first recorded it. Scarier than if he’d read its events in a novel, of course; that was just how statements worked. He experienced them more vividly than stories, though less so than the events of his own life. (Because the people they happened to thought they were real! he’d told himself when he first took this job. It’s empathy, that’s all. Nope, sorry—evil magic.) When he read a paper statement these days, though, the knowledge it wouldn’t give him nightmares never quite left him. And he’d thought he was growing desensitized to the kinds of horror most people came to the Institute to report. Coming back up, though—maybe it was the fever, but god, the visions he got on that statement’s way out, of Agape and the soft, sticky hivecorpse of Claude Vilakazi’s followers—the way it made the donut he’d shoved down that morning (in a show of team spirit, god help him) come back up tasting like rotten rice wine—it was worse than the dreams. Worse, he could have sworn, than even the first time he ever dreamt Naomi Herne’s empty graveyard.

While hanging over the bowl of the Archives’ toilet waiting to see if he’d got it all up or if there was still more to come, Jon remembered thinking again of the banana Martin had given him. A few days earlier Daisy had made him watch the video of the I don’t understand this meme and at this point I’m too afraid to ask man vore-ing a banana; Jon had confessed to her, in a conspiratorial whisper-laugh, that for him vore itself had been one such meme until that very second, when the Eye had seen fit to inform him. But when applied to a banana, the term apparently just meant eating it peel and all. In 2016 Martin had broken the banana’s stem and pulled back a section of peel before handing it to Jon, so as to brook no argument. Was it really the banana itself he’d cried over? Not the gesture of friendship, when Jon deserved it so little? The thought of someone caring for him enough that when he got hangry at them they handed him a snack. Martin had been living in the Archives then, like Jon did now. Sleeping in Document Storage—a guest in a room owned by pieces of paper. Those bananas may have been the only thing that felt like his.

A Guest for Mr. Spider was about vore, technically. Not an uncommon topic in children’s literature. Some surmised that was where the fetish came from, though others maintained kinks like that were inborn, and the stories merely alerted their hosts to them for the first time. Red riding hood, three little pigs, little old lady who swallowed a fly. The Leitner touch was only the part where he drew you to his real-life lair and real-life ate you.

Looking back, that was probably the first thing he’d ever admired about Martin—how easy he’d made it look to skin a fruit. Not at the time admired, of course, but in those weeks afterward, when every banana Jon ate made him claw at the peel til his finger joints throbbed.

That stomach bug had struck the Archives with serendipitous timing, though. If he’d not found out how thin abstinence from the Hunt had made Daisy on the same day he’d barfed up a statement, Jon might not have pieced together what their combined evidence meant. Until then he’d put down his own post-coma weight loss to the fact he rarely ate more people food than a donut in twenty-four hours. Lots of avatars were scrawny, after all. Jane Prentiss, Mike Crew, Justin Gough, Annabelle Cane, John Amherst, Simon Fairchild. Jude Perry and Jared Hopworth could mold their respective fleshes however they wanted, so he didn’t count them as exceptions. True, Trevor Herbert’s bulk had struck him as odd; surely a homeless man wouldn’t waste cash on food his body no longer wanted. And what about Breekon and Hope? Did butterflies and a quartermaster’s pen and tongue sustain them? But maybe, Jon had told himself, it was like with alcohol. Maybe the avatars with more flesh on their bones had worked to develop a tolerance for (air quotes, heavy sarcasm) people food, for the sake of their physiques, or. So they could, he didn't know, eat socially? Without feeling sick, like Jon did whenever one of the others brought donuts.

Preposterously stupid, this theory seemed in retrospect. The truth was much simpler. It was like Jude Perry’d told him. She was strong and he was weak, because she fed her god with her actions, while Jon’s had had to resort to eating his flesh.

He wasn’t going back to live statements! That wasn’t an option; he knew that. He couldn’t feed his god with his actions. But he could have more paper ones. Maybe they were like the candles poor Eugene Vanderstock used to bring Agnes—the ones she’d sat over for hours. Hours and hours, inhaling the suffering that made them. They’d kept her strong enough, right? At least in body. All those people in charge of her care, all so much in her thrall—if she’d looked hungry one of them would’ve mentioned it in a statement.

During Jon’s school days, back when he was still trying to learn how to be a girl, this brief window had opened up right around age thirteen where the girls around him had enough self-consciousness to start developing eating disorders? But not enough to keep them secret. Thirteen had been this phase of, like, I’m a teenager now, see? I’ve got the teen angst now—SEE?! Where after they’d finished the day’s maths assignment, or while setting up microscope slides, one could overhear girls swapping self-harm anecdotes and tips for how best not to eat. Anne, whom he’d been almost friends with, went through two packs of chewing gum a day for a while. She would shove three or four sticks at a time in her mouth, then spit them back out into their wrappers as soon as they lost their flavor. Eventually they made her sick, and she switched to chain-sucking butterscotch discs. (Most artificial sweeteners, as the Eye now informed him, had mild laxative properties—including those used in gum.) Other acquaintances had brought comically large thermoses of coffee to school every day, and scurried to the toilet between classes. But it was another polyurious crowd that Jon kept thinking of, these days—the kids who would chug water every time they felt hungry. Trying to fill up on paper statements felt just like that.

He’d never understood that urge until now. Hunger was already a bad sensation; why would it help to add the further bad sensations of nausea and stomachache and cold? But now it made sense: feeling better was not the point. The point was to stop wanting more. He couldn’t get rid of the hunger, exactly—not in a way that mattered. Not the shards of glass in his belly, not the itch in his esophagus like a finger tapping behind his gag reflex, not the way simple motions like soaping his hands made his whole body ache. Not the sharpening of his senses to such a fine point that he jumped whenever Thérèse in the office above him shut her desk’s sticky drawer. (He hadn’t known that was what made the squeaky noise until a few weeks ago when the Eye decided he might like some office gossip. Even now he didn’t know which of the faces he sometimes passed up there belonged to Thérèse. She had no statements to make.) Nor the fog in his mind, though he tried sometimes to blame that on the Lonely. He couldn’t sate his hunger with paper statements—couldn’t make himself full, in the rosy way we usually connote that word. All warm and carefree and pleasantly sleepy. But he could cram the hole inside him with enough stale horrors that the temptation to chase down a fresh one momentarily left him.

And that was the new plan—to stuff himself with paper statements.

Tomorrow would mark two weeks since the day he’d first tried it. Brian from Artefact Storage had a statement to give him, Jon could feel—either Stranger or Spiral, it was hard to tell quite which. Something that caused paranoia. Not a great fit for that department. Good fit for a temple of the Eye, Jon supposed, remembering Tim and Michael Shelley. But Artefact Storage? God help him. He wondered if Elias had done it on purpose, hiring a paranoid man to work in a room full of objects that wanted him hurt. If so it must’ve been this one—this purpose. And on Wednesday mornings Brian manned the place all alone. Poor soul was already clinging to this job by a thread, though (so, Web…? That could cause paranoia too, as Jon well knew). Surely if Jon made him relive his trauma that would break it. Though perhaps that’d be a mercy. And but besides, two weeks ago Melanie had still lived here, and sat all morning between Jon’s office and Artefact Storage. Until she went to lunch. But by that time the woman whose laugh Jon could sometimes hear through the walls (Pooja, the Eye had since told him her name was) would have joined Brian. And it’d just be too weird, too risky, to go in and ask him about it with a third person in the room. Even if it wasn’t also evil.

So he’d read 0132210—the statement of Sierra Talbot, regarding a swimming pool whose depth changed every time she entered it—in hopes that’d make him quit thinking about the paranoid man down the hall. It didn’t, not really; paper statements didn’t take up as much of his attention as they used to. But he couldn’t get up and walk to Artefact Storage in the middle of one. When he finished and still couldn’t think of anything but Brian, he dug out another statement (this one from 1938, regarding a bad penny). Just to keep himself chained to his desk til lunch. And then a third (Liza Ho, attack of the killer seagulls). And by the end of that one he felt too heavy and cold inside to want to go anywhere but the couch. It made his stomach swell until it hurt to sit up straight, and the thought of shoving anything more inside made him feel sick—exactly like chugging water every time he felt hungry.

Basira had said maybe the Web just wanted to keep them so afraid of their own impulses they sat and did nothing so they couldn’t be puppeted. Maybe she was right. He’d never felt more like a spider, with his weak, skinny limbs and bloated stomach. Lying on the couch massaging other people’s horrors into more comfortable shapes inside him. Thank god he’d already given up tucking in his shirts, when he came back after the coma. Jon had worn the same trousers for three days in a row, now—shucked them off at the end of the day, hoping if he left them on the floor that’d convince him they were too dirty to wear again, and then slipped them back on over clean boxers in the morning. They were the only trousers he had that stayed up with the button left unfastened.

(Technically, the noun bloat refers to the feeling of weight or tightness in the abdomen. To describe a belly which has expanded beyond its typical size, one should use the word distended. Though these phenomena can occur separately, most people conflate them under the single word bloated. This trivia had seemed worthless when Beholding told him of it. But now he knew better. Every morning he woke up feeling like he’d had his whole torso replaced with the aching void of space, empty but for silver glints of pain that were the stars. And then he’d look down and find his belly still distended.)

Melanie and Basira didn’t know—at least not officially. They both seemed to have noticed how much more often lately they’d walked in on him recording, but Jon was pretty sure they suspected him less of bingeing on statements, more of pretending to record so as to avoid talking to them. He welcomed this misapprehension.

It was also possible they knew but declined to comment, since. Well, it was kind of a pathetic habit? Physically, a bit pathetic. Morally, though, such a big improvement over compelling statements by force that maybe they figured they ought to let him have it. If so he should be grateful, he reminded himself. Their pity, after all, was humiliating only in principle; Daisy’s teasing and concerned questions embarrassed him in practice.

“Enough navelgazing,” Daisy scoffed, but when Jon looked over at her he could see a smile creeping its way onto her face. “Look—finish the one you’re on, then come over here and I’ll. Tell you a story.”

“I—what?”

“Don’t know if it’ll count as a ‘statement,’” she said, with air quotes; “not much fear in it, more just.” She looked at the floor, then shrugged. “But it seems worth a try, yeah? Might make you feel better.”

“I-I, er. I really shouldn’t?” He meant in case it had a taste of human blood effect, but set his hand on his stomach again in hopes she’d think he meant he was too full.

“Yeah, you should. I want you to hear it.” Daisy shrugged again. “Think it might do you good to know.”

Jon turned back to his desk, unpaused the recording and wrapped up the statement. He’d quit bothering to record end notes on most of these—told himself he could add them in later, like he used to when he’d first taken this job. How proud 2016 Jon would have been to see how many statements the 2018 Archivist got through in a week.

He paused for a moment before standing up, to take as deep a breath as he could manage when stuffed full of paper. The end of that statement had gone down easier, since he’d had that few minutes’ break talking to Daisy, but he still didn’t love the idea of standing and walking. Especially since he knew once he got to the couch he’d be glued there by fatigue. If he didn’t pee now, he’d spend most of the night far enough into sleep to be paralyzed, but not far enough to numb his bladder. He excused himself to Daisy, promising to come right back. Then hauled himself up, with help from his cane and one arm of his chair.

Six limbs it took to maneuver this body now. Two more and he’d’ve gone full spider.

Three quarters of the way to the bathroom—that’s how long it took before the ache in his legs outpaced that in his stomach. He arrived on the toilet seat shaky and out of breath, as always. Months ago he’d given up standing to pee. When you sat you could rock back and forth, and cross your arms tight over waves of quease.

Not much came out, as was also usual lately. As far as Jon could tell, his body now required only enough water to keep his mouth from drying out while recording. Dehydration no longer made his head hurt, so, why bother. Good thing, too, he supposed—the last two weeks he hadn’t needed much non-metaphorical water inside for his body to parse that as needing to pee.

He let his trousers stay pooled around his ankles until after he’d washed and dried his hands. Then pulled up his shirt, to judge from his reflection whether they’d stay up with the fly undone. If he kept his hands in his pockets, yeah. Could you tell the difference, visually, once he put his shirt tails back down? Not for such a short distance. They wouldn’t have time to get disarranged.

It didn’t matter; Basira didn’t even glance at him on his way back, and all Institute staff who didn’t live here had gone home.

Jon opened the door to his office, said hello to Daisy but didn’t manage to look at her, and sat himself down on the other side of the couch. From the corner of his eye (or someone’s anyway) he saw her rise to her feet. “I’m gonna pee too,” she told him, picking her way toward the door; “get yourself comfortable, like you’re going to bed.”

“Where will you sit.”

“I’ll squeeze in.”

“I don’t mind leaving room for—?” Finally he made himself look up at her, in time to see her shake her head. Daisy hadn’t been strong on her feet either, since the Buried; she held herself up now with a hand on the doorjamb, elbow bent so her shoulder leant against that wrist. He regretted quibbling. “Never mind; I’ll just.”

“Really? You’re comfortable like that? You look like a sheep in clover.”

The knowledge came to him before he could ask her what that meant—complete with a nasty visual of what happens in cases acute enough to require rumenotomy. Jon swore he could feel himself swelling to accommodate this tidbit. His eye twitched in discomfort.

“Think I prefer ‘windbag,’ if it’s all the same to you.”

She made a face like that was grosser than what she had said. “You ruined my joke. I was gonna say I won’t let you have any more leaves til you look less like you might explode.”

“Sheep in clover suffocate,” Jon frowned; “they don’t explode. You must be thinking of how they cure them when—”

“Leaves. In. A. Book, Jon. That joke.”

“Oh. Yes, I see.” He made himself chuckle.

Daisy sighed and shifted on her feet. “I’ll be right back. Just lie down, alright? Like you’re going to bed.”

Jon agreed to lie down, but couldn’t decide whether to face the wall (as he would to sleep), leaving her to slide in between him and the back of the couch the way she had a few times before when she’d walked in on him catnapping, or whether he should lie on his back, where he could see her as soon as she opened the door. It was important to make sure she knew he appreciated her offer to give him a statement. Or, no—to tell him her story, he meant.

Ultimately he picked the latter course.

“You sleep like that?”

“Sometimes."

“I’ve never seen you sleep like that. You always face the wall.” Daisy crossed her arms, blew hair out of her face. “That for the tummy ache, or for me?”

“Uh….”

“Would it hurt you to face the wall.”

“No, I just.”

“Turn around, then. I’ll squeeze in,” she said again.

“I-if you’re sure.”

He rolled onto his side, gritting his teeth as the cramps in his stomach swirled in new directions. What made it slosh like that, he wondered. While he fought to regain his breath Jon watched Daisy climb up onto the back of the couch on shaking elbows and knees, then avalanche down hands- and feet-first so she fit between him and its cushions. He’d never watched her do this before—always either startled out of a doze at the sound of her thumping down next to him, or simply woken up to find her there.

“You’re just like the Admiral,” he informed her.

“True words spoken in jest,” muttered Daisy. Too quietly for him to hear what she said over the couch’s tortured creaks, but half a second after she finished speaking the words appeared before his mind, in white, all-capital letters with a black background like closed captions on the news. “That’s Georgie’s cat, right?” she said aloud.

“Yes.”

Her knee jostled the cap of his; when it made him gasp she snarled under her breath. “Sorry. Can you move your leg?”

“Yes, it’s fine, just—”

“I mean would you move your leg.”

“Oh.” He did so.

“Thanks. Ugh—you’re cold,” Daisy accused him; “where’s that blanket.” He pointed behind her to the arm of the couch where it lay folded. She shook it out, and draped it over both of them. Reached around behind him to make sure it covered his whole back. Jon tried to ignore the way his stomach lurched every time Daisy’s weight shifted against the cushions. Finally she settled next to him to catch her breath. Their foreheads touched; her stomach pressed into his, though not as tightly as the last time they’d lain like this. “Can you breathe or am I crushing you?”

“Not at all, you’re fine—in fact, if the couch cushions are chafing you too much you can—”

Daisy huffed, and scooted herself in closer to him. “That better?” She set her warm hand down right where his belly diverged from pelvis. Jon tried to keep both voice and tremor out of his exhale. Since the coffin, Daisy’s hands and feet suffered at night and after any exertion from the same excess of heat his sometimes did. So the cold inside him probably felt nice on her hand, if not to the rest of her.

(Like snuggling up to a hotel mattress, she’d described it, after the first time she joined him for a nap when he’d just had a statement. Cold, hard, covered in lumps and dents, and creaks when you roll over on it. “I’d prefer you didn’t,” he’d replied, while praying her elbow wouldn’t come any closer to the crevasse where his ribs used to be.)

“Christ you’re stuffed,” commented Daisy. For emphasis she lifted her fingers, then set them back down on his gut.

“I don’t know what you expected.”

“You won’t pop if I tell you a story?”

“Not literally,” Jon said, blinking.

“Of course not literally,” she scoffed; “you know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

“Will it make you sick. Don’t want you throwing up on me; this is Melanie’s shirt. If you ruin it she’ll hit us with her cane, and I don’t trust you to hit as hard back with yours.”

“Mine’s shorter and thicker,” he mused. “I don’t have to hit as hard.”

“Stop. Avoiding. The question.”

Jon sighed to show her he capitulated. Then thought about it. He felt cold and sick, but the idea of saying no to a statement made those feelings worse, not better. And the sharp clusters of pain in his belly were harder to sleep through than quease.

“I’ll be fine,” he decided. “It’ll help.”

“Alright. When you’re ready, ask me what I used to do when I got shaky between hunts.”

Read part two here.

#stuffing #nausea #stomachache #hunger kink #a shifty tract #nonsearchable tma tag #other titles i. jocoseriously considered include 'divine chains' (like the cult from 153 get it?);#'too much information' and 'a movable-type feast'.#also for a long time the file on my computer was called 'statement eating: the moive' because alas i was a teenage h/omes/tuck

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faraway-wanderer · 5 years ago

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QUEER YA READS happy pride month here’s a list of lots of queer YA books!!

- The Henna Wars- Abida Jaigirdar When Nishat comes out to her parents, they say she can be anyone she wants—as long as she isn’t herself. Because Muslim girls aren’t lesbians. Nishat doesn’t want to hide who she is, but she also doesn’t want to lose her relationship with her family. And her life only gets harder once a childhood friend walks back into her life. Flávia is beautiful and charismatic and Nishat falls for her instantly. Amidst sabotage and school stress, their lives get more tangled—but Nishat can’t quite get rid of her crush on Flávia, and realizes there might be more to her than she realized

- Red, White and Royal Blue- Casey Mcquinston First Son Alex Claremont-Diaz is the closest thing to a prince this side of the Atlantic. With his intrepid sister and the Veep’s genius granddaughter, they’re the White House Trio, a beautiful millennial marketing strategy for his mother, President Ellen Claremont. International socialite duties do have downsides—namely, when photos of a confrontation with his longtime nemesis Prince Henry at a royal wedding leak to the tabloids and threaten American/British relations.

- You should see me in a crown- Leah Johnson Liz Lighty has always believed she's too black, too poor, too awkward to shine in her small, rich, prom-obsessed midwestern town. But it's okay -- Liz has a plan that will get her out of Campbell, Indiana, forever: attend the uber-elite Pennington College, play in their world-famous orchestra, and become a doctor.But when the financial aid she was counting on unexpectedly falls through, Liz's plans come crashing down . . . until she's reminded of her school's scholarship for prom king and queen

- Tell me How you Really Feel- Aminah Mae Safi Sana Khan is a cheerleader and a straight A student. She's the classic (somewhat obnoxious) overachiever determined to win.Rachel Recht is a wannabe director who's obsesssed with movies and ready to make her own masterpiece. As she's casting her senior film project, she knows she's found the perfect lead - Sana.There's only one problem. Rachel hates Sana. Rachel was the first girl Sana ever asked out, but Rachel thought it was a cruel prank and has detested Sana ever since.

- Like a love story- Abdi Nazemian It's 1989 in New York City, and for three teens, the world is changing.

- I Wish You All the Best- Mason Deaver At turns heartbreaking and joyous, I Wish You All the Best is both a celebration of life, friendship, and love, and a shining example of hope in the face of adversity.

- The Falling in Love Montage- Ciara Smyth Saoirse doesn’t believe in love at first sight or happy endings. If they were real, her mother would still be able to remember her name and not in a care home with early onset dementia. A condition that Saoirse may one day turn out to have inherited. So she’s not looking for a relationship. She doesn’t see the point in igniting any romantic sparks if she’s bound to burn out. But after a chance encounter at an end-of-term house party, Saoirse is about to break her own rules. For a girl with one blue freckle, an irresistible sense of mischief, and a passion for rom-coms.

- The Fascinators- Andrew Eliopulos Living in a small town where magic is frowned upon, Sam needs his friends James and Delia—and their time together in their school's magic club—to see him through to graduation.But as soon as senior year starts, little cracks in their group begin to show. Sam may or may not be in love with James. Delia is growing more frustrated with their amateur magic club. And James reveals that he got mixed up with some sketchy magickers over the summer, putting a target on all their backs.

- The Dark Tide- Alicia Jaskina The Wicked Deep meets A Curse So Dark and Lonely in this gripping, dark fairy-tale fantasy about two girls who must choose between saving themselves, each other, or their sinking island city

- Summer of Salt – Katrina Leno Georgina Fernweh waits with growing impatience for the tingle of magic in her fingers—magic that has been passed down through every woman in her family. Her twin sister, Mary, already shows an ability to defy gravity. But with their eighteenth birthday looming at the end of this summer, Georgina fears her gift will never come.

- Sawkill Girls- Claire Legrand Marion: the new girl. Awkward and plain, steady and dependable. Weighed down by tragedy and hungry for love she’s sure she’ll never find. Zoey: the pariah. Luckless and lonely, hurting but hiding it. Aching with grief and dreaming of vanished girls. Maybe she’s broken—or maybe everyone else is. Val: the queen bee. Gorgeous and privileged, ruthless and regal. Words like silk and eyes like knives, a heart made of secrets and a mouth full of lies.

- The Priory of the Orange Tree- Samantha Shannon A world divided. A queendom without an heir. An ancient enemy awakens. The House of Berethnet has ruled Inys for a thousand years. Still unwed, Queen Sabran the Ninth must conceive a daughter to protect her realm from destruction – but assassins are getting closer to her door. Ead Duryan is an outsider at court. Though she has risen to the position of lady-in-waiting, she is loyal to a hidden society of mages. Ead keeps a watchful eye on Sabran, secretly protecting her with forbidden magic. Across the dark sea, Tané has trained to be a dragonrider since she was a child, but is forced to make a choice that could see her life unravel.

- I was Born for this- Alice Oseman For Angel Rahimi, life is only about one thing: The Ark – a pop-rock trio of teenage boys who are currently taking the world by storm. Being part of The Ark’s fandom has given her everything – her friendships, her dreams, her place in the world. Jimmy Kaga-Ricci owes everything to The Ark too. He’s their frontman – and playing in a band is all he’s ever dreamed of doing. It’s just a shame that recently everything in his life seems to have turned into a bit of a nightmare.

- Summer Bird Blue Akemi Dawn Bowman- Bowman’s sophomore novel follows Rumi, a young musician plagued with grief and survivor’s guilt after her younger sister is killed in a car crash. Her mother sends her to liver with her aunt in Hawaii, and is also now mourning the loss of the music she would create with her sister and is unable to recapture her passion. As she navigates her loss, and feelings of abandonment from her mother, Rumi is also starting new relationships with neighbors, one a cute, easygoing surfer boy, and the other a irascible 80-year-old crankypants, while also becoming comfortable with her aromantic and asexual feelings.An immersive aromantic, asexual journey through grief and understanding.

- Felix Ever after- Kacen Callender a novel about a transgender teen grappling with identity and self-discovery while falling in love for the first time.

- The Stars and The Blackness Between Them - Junauda Petrus Audre and Mabel, Black girls who find romance just in time for everything to fall even further apart.

- By any means necessary- Candice Montgomery By Any Means Neccesary dives into the intersection of race and sexuality through the lens of its main character, Torrey, a gay Black college student.

- Her Royal Highness -Rachel Hawkins- When Millie Quint discovers her best friend-turned-girlfriend has been kissing someone else, she decides to get as far away from her as possible – by going to boarding school on the opposite side of the globe. The only issue? Millie’s new roomate is the actual princess of Scotland.

- Tash Hearts Tolstoy - Kathryn Omsbee, Natasha Zelenka (Tash), is a serious fangirl of Leo Tolstoy and a rising YouTube star with her webseries Unhappy Families, a modern-day adaptation of Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina, and Vlog, Tea with Tash. When a famous vlogger gives a shout out to the series, it goes viral. Now she, along with the cast and crew, are finding what it means to be a hit sensation and are managing the adoration, and the trolls, coming their way. Tash, a romantic asexual, has had a long time crush on the hit vlogger star Thom, who, as her online popular grows, so does Thom’s attention. Amidst the fame and romance, Tash is also dealing with her older sister creating distance, her parents announcing a new sibling on the way, college applications, the impending end of the series, and the big “What’s next.”An asexual romantic comedy coming of age.

- Full Disclosure- Camryn Garratt Camryn Garrett’s debut novel follows a Black, HIV-positive teen as she explores her first romantic relationship. There are few books that discuss what it’s like to live with HIV, especially those that are light, relatable, and told through the lens of a young Black girl.

- The Black Flamingo- Dean Atta Atta pens a coming-of-age story about a boy accepting his identity as a mixed-race gay teen, but then finds a place where he belongs as a drag artist named The Black Flamingo.

- Juniper Leaves- Jaz Joyner Kinky-haired Juniper Bray used to believe in magic, until she lost her best friend: her grandmother. Now this 15-year-old shy girl is headed to her father's research trip on a farm hundreds of miles away, with a family she barely knows and the opposite of a best friend, her new arch nemesis, Bree Mckinney. As if she wasn't miserable enough. Little does she know the next few months Juniper will discover magical powers she never knew she had, get a crush on a girl she never knew she'd like and well, quite frankly, save the world.

- Crier’s War - Nina Varela ‘In a world where humans are dominated by superior Automae, one human girl called Ayla takes the role of handmaiden to the Automae Lady Crier in order to help the human rebellion. But to Ayla’s horror, she finds herself falling for Crier.’

- Queen of Coin and Whispers Helen Corcoran -When a teenage queen inherits her uncle’s bankrupt kingdom, she brings with her a new spymaster – a girl who only accepted the role to avenge her murdered father. But faced with enemies at every turn, the two learn to rely on no one but each other . . . though it may bring their downfall.

- Huntress- Malinda Lo – Ill fortune has befallen the land, and two girls have been tasked with the mission of setting things right. As Kaede and Taisin journey to the city of the Fairy Queen, adventure and romance awaits.

- This Song Is (Not) for You - Laura Nowlin- This is not your usual love triangle. Ramona has been in love with her best friend and bandmate Sam for a long time, Sam has also been in love Ramona. When Tom joins the band, he completes them. Now Ramona is starting to have feelings for Tom, and those feelings are reciprocated. Tom is a romantic asexual, whose asexuality is fully explored

- Seven Tears at High Tide- C.B. Lee – After Kevin Luong drops, yup, seven tears into the sea, he ends up rescuing a boy from the waters. It’s love at first sight for Morgan who, unknown to Kevin, is a Selkie.

- Loveless -Alice Oseman- (out on the 9th July!!) Georgia has never been in love, never kissed anyone, never even had a crush – but as a fanfic-obsessed romantic she’s sure she’ll find her person one day.As she starts university with her best friends, Pip and Jason, in a whole new town far from home, Georgia’s ready to find romance, and with her outgoing roommate on her side and a place in the Shakespeare Society, her ‘teenage dream’ is in sight. But when her romance plan wreaks havoc amongst her friends, Georgia ends up in her own comedy of errors, and she starts to question why love seems so easy for other people but not for her. With new terms thrown at her – asexual, aromantic – Georgia is more uncertain about her feelings than ever.

- The Last Beginning- Lauren James- (you probably need to read the next together first which I HIGHLY recommend) Sixteen years ago, after a scandal that rocked the world, teenagers Katherine and Matthew vanished without a trace. Now Clove Sutcliffe is determined to find her long lost relatives.But where do you start looking for a couple who seem to have been reincarnated at every key moment in history? Who were Kate and Matt? Why were they born again and again? And who is the mysterious Ella, who keeps appearing at every turn in Clove's investigation? For Clove, there is a mystery to solve in the past and a love to find in the future, and failure could cost the world everything.

#i think i did a good job at finding alot of diverse ones and with different sexualites etc represented #i haven't read all of these but i've read some!#queer ya masterlist #book blogging #pride reads #queer books #lgbtq boo #lgbtq reads #ya books

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anxiouslyfred · 5 years ago

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Discovery of Magic

so I pulled 4 names out of the hat, got Thomas, Logan, Remy and Romulus and somehow forgot you know, to include discovering magic somewhere along writing about the Functions appearing, Thomas meeting Creativity and Logan just getting annoyed.

At least I mentioned magic though

/\/\/\/\/\

The sides had become commonplace to Thomas. Their appearances no longer shocked him, but he would sit with Logan discussing or trying to figure out how the sides actually gained human form and whether there could be a scientific basis for their existence.

“We could really use Creativity for this discussion. He would have the most accurate information, provided I am correct in believing he was the first of all of us to gain form.” Logan was musing, looking through the pages of observations and data he’d managed to gather since Thomas began questioning the subject.

Thomas was already raising a hand to call a side before he paused, “When you say Creativity you mean Roman, right? It’s not Remus I’m meant to be summoning?”

“I mean Creativity. Before he decided there was too much control over the rest of us in his role. It’s unlikely the brothers will return to being the King without some difficulty.” Logan explained, shaking his head at the offer.

That shook Thomas’s understanding of his sides once more. “Wait, you mean there was one singular Creativity that embodied both the sides I know as Creativity now?”

“He means it’s midnight and I’m missing you, Babes!”The voice came from a man Thomas had never seen before, although undoubtedly another copy of himself. It was a toss up over which was more confusing, the sunglasses being worn, or the paper sign proclaiming ‘SLEEP’ on the man’s chest.

A glance to Logan showed his bewilderment reflected back. “I don’t believe he does mean that, given neither of us know you. Are you another side?”

“A function, Baby. A function you’re still depriving yourself of. I’m Sleep but you can call me anytime.” The new function shoved his sunglasses up, coming over to force a space between Logan and Thomas on the sofa and leaning into Thomas.

Logan had already grabbed a notebook and pen, more questions sparking in his eyes. “Thomas never had functions before now. How did you form?”

“Don’t know, some dude called Romulus met me like twenty minutes ago, mentioned the time and told me how to get here.” Sleep shrugged before frowning. “No, you aren’t doing that, Gurl. Thomas should be sleeping and that means goodnight for you too!”

Before Logan could say anything more there was a kiss to his forehead and he was falling back into the mind space and fast asleep.

Thomas was definitely alarmed by that display of the functions powers but his attempt to back away was hindered by Sleep latching onto his arm. “No Cutie. The only place we’re going is upstairs to your bed.”

“Do you at least have a name if I’ve got to sleep with you?” Thomas tried to delay getting up, only to find himself being carried. A lullaby he thought might be from Mary Poppins began to be hummed from the chest he was cradled against. Listening to the tune finally started to relax him after the recent alarms.

It was only as he was tucked into bed beside Sleep that he got a reply, just as he was drifting off. “I’m called Remy, Darling.”

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Thomas woke the next morning to the sound of Logan huffing and a chuckle he didn’t recognise. It was as he blinked at the side and the regal copy beside him that he realised Remy’s arms were wrapped around him.

“Can I at least get a coffee before you start explaining whatever’s irritated you?” He yawned, stopping Logan from whatever he’d been about to say and sitting up, finding no resistance from the arms around him.

Sleep also began sitting up, securing his sunglasses in front of his eyes as the curtains were opened. “Gurl, I better be getting some of that bean juice too.”

“Did I adopt Remy in my sleep?” He grumbled, tired thoughts moving sluggishly as he got up. He had to glance at the one person who hadn’t spoken yet as he hoped to pass through the door.

They were dressed in a mixture of golds and silvers, with a crown of metallic vine leaves perched on his head. Where Roman and Remus dressed reminiscently of Disney characters, this figure seemed to bring their wardrobe from the Ancient Romans or Greeks.

“Creativity you need to let Tomas through.” Logan tried to insist, tugging on his tunic since they had both been blocking the doorway.”

Everyone watched as the side rolled his eyes and just walked directly into Thomas, knocking him back onto the bed before freezing. “When did he stop being able to walk through us?”

“Please say I’m not being told Creativity is an imbecile? God you guys took ages to get past the camera if it was turned on and he just expected to walk through me?” Thomas groaned, torn between going back to sleep or trying to demand Roman and Remus were returned.

Logan snorted, smirking over at the other. “Not an imbecile, just wilfully ignoring the memories of the brothers since, and I’m quoting here, ‘What can halves of me teach this full unfettered splendour?�� Oh and since all my questions have been given the answer magic I am still looking into the reason for our manifesting. He’s atrocious for any form of logical reasoning.”

“I think I’d prefer Remus too... what actually is your name, anyway?” Thomas groused, standing again to walk away. “Rems, if you want coffee you better stop snickering.”

“I’m Romulus,the King of your Imagination, at your service, Thomas.” The dramatic bow, including whisking the crown of his head to hold outstretched fell flat given Thomas was entirely focused on setting the coffee pot off and shoving some bread into the toaster.

Glancing back, he did snicker a little. “I see where Roman gets it from. Logan, want some crofters on toast? You might as well have breakfast with me while you’re here.” Thomas offered, already getting the jelly out of a cupboard, smiling when he spotted Remy getting the mugs out and pouring them both coffees.

There was quiet for a shot time as Romulus tried to figure out if he had been snubbed since he wasn’t offered any form of sustenance while the function and other side were both provided for. Everyone else was waking up fully with the extra energy of food and coffee in their systems.

“So, Romulus. Remy mentioned you being there when he formed last night. Are you the one responsible for forming Functions and Sides alike?” Thomas asked after watching both the newcomers for a while.

That got a proud smile and Romulus straightened up to stand tall. “Indeed, tis I. By the powers of the moon I came into being and now seek to provide only the best aids to your living such as your personality requires.” He announced.

“Where does the moon come into this?” Logan asked, pulling over Thomas’s calendar and a page of moon phrases up on his phone.

Romulus pouted at the immediate distraction Logan had taken instead of waiting for an answer by trying to figure it out himself. Deciding to recapture everyone’s attention with a dramatic recounting he began; “Why the moon was full the night I formed. Thomas was dreaming and wishing about Hercules and the Greek gods as only Disney would tell their tales. I began to form from the strength of those dreams, but chose to manifest as Creativity as there was such joy in it for young Thomas. So many wondrous dreams of rescuing a princess and living happily with her forever more.”

The story broke of as simultaneously the three at the table began choking, and laughing when they could breathe again. “Wow, you really should look through some of Roman’s memories, Remus’s would be pretty interesting for you too.” Thomas couldn’t think of much more to say, caught in the hilarity that apparently he was going to come out to himself years after accepting his sexuality.

Logan was laughing as well, head in his hands and remembering the times before attraction had even been a thought in Thomas’s mind beyond the stories. Even that had been after Romulus had decided to split. He had been writing the story down for logical analysis of how reasonable some of the specific details could be but the notes could wait for a moment. “We’re gay, Romulus. Please tell me you understand what homosexuality is, regardless of what memories you’re ignoring”

“It means happy?” Creativity tried, glancing at Remy even as he joined in with the laughter.

“Babes, you made me from present day Thomas, of course I know he’s only going to want that happy ever after with some gorgeous man. No dames allowed in this fairytale, no ma’am.” Remy had the clearest attempt at explaining just why they were all laughing at Romulus’s clueless story. “Well, they’re welcome as friends actually. We can always use some fabulous bitches.”

Shaking off the moment of hilarity and summoning a book they’d looked through with Talyn once, Logan prevented Romulus from talking further. “Regardless, it’s becoming clear that Roman and Remus are much better suited to our Thomas’s needs than you are. I believe I can investigate the way we formed adequately enough with the information you’ve provided now.”

“But what about all the other functions I was going to create?” Romulus protested the clear dismissal, some of Remus’s restless energy finally showing through as Thomas seemed to be agreeing.

“Babes, I’ve existed for like 12 hours and even I can say that with the headache from the six sides he has, having more than a couple functions will make this guy a walking disaster, never knowing what to focus on.” Remy shook his head, already aware there were a few other functions about and wondering if they would ever meet Thomas.

Thomas picked up on both comments with a side glance. “Yeah, my friends already get concerned over how much I talk to myself. Probably best you separate again so I don’t have too many people walking around.”

Instead of saying anything more Romulus once again dropped into a deep bow, sinking out. Remy also toasted his coffee, downing the rest and fading back into Thomas’s mind.

Logan and Thomas shared a glance now they were alone. “So how did Romulus reform? You said you thought it would be difficult.”

“Apparently they’ve always been able to, but neither particularly likes Creativity. They prefer to be brothers but when they realised what we’ve been discussing and trying to research they wanted to help out. Roman left a note in my room explaining what was going on.” Logan sighed, leaning against one of the counters enough his head was against the wall.

“Didn’t seem like Romulus wanted to follow the plan.” Thomas remarked, half considering how he could comfort an obviously stressed Logical side.

Logan shook his head. “He just wanted to pretend you were still a kid and nothing had changed. For now, I’ve got a book of crossword puzzles in my room that I think I’ll spend an hour or two doing after confirming Romulus has gone.”

Thomas waved as the side disappeared, mentally making a note to be careful what questions he asks himself in the future. After all now he apparently had some functions to get to know.

#character thomas #thomas sanders #king creativity #remy sanders #logan sanders #functions #magic #sleep sanders #funbruary

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artificial3nemy · 5 years ago

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So I’ve been self-studying creative writing...

I’ve taken creative writing classes before, of course. I’ve also been writing for as long I can remember. For the first time, though, I feel like I’m getting real value out of the lessons I’m learning. I feel truly inspired and invigorated. I decided to start using this blog again so I can try and share some of my daily thoughts on things. I’ve never really made a personal blog before, so I’m a little nervous, but I’m excited too!

Hopefully, this will also help me get into the pattern of writing, even if it’s just rambling. One of the things I’ve learned in my lessons is that rambling is one of the best practices you can use in order to better your craft! So here I am. Rambling.

It’s always been my dream to be a writer. For the longest time, however, I haven’t been able to force myself to do it. I think that somewhere along the way I forgot how good it feels simply to write something and see it put onto the page. I forgot WHY I love writing and WHY it’s been my dream all these years. I want to start truly focusing on it now though, not just to obtain some lofty goal or money, but for myself. I want to recapture the love that got me into writing, and run with it for the rest of my life.

I’ve always been cautioned by friends and family to be careful when it comes to writing. Don’t lean on it and assume that you’ll be successful from it. Find a second choice. Something to fall back on. Now, at 26 years old, I’m starting to think that it’s bullshit. Most authors I know of were working their asses off before and during their first writings. Some had careers, while some, like me, were simply working in restaurants. I think that, rather than trying to find some miracle profession to settle down with in case my art doesn’t take off, I should be focusing on the art. That seems obvious enough, but I’ve struggled with it for so long. Why can’t I just start writing and lean all the way into it? Why can’t I do that while managing my cute little restaurant?

I just wish I had realized it sooner! Ah yes, the solution to the problem I’ve had in regards to writing... Just write! That’s all there is to it. It doesn’t matter where you are or what you’re doing. You can start writing today and reaching for those lofty goals anytime you want. It’s taken me a long time to come to this stunningly obvious conclusion. All it took was the world descending into true madness. Nobody knows what might happen next. Follow your dreams. Stop trying to look for something to fall back on. Stop putting things in the way of your passion, or you’ll never be able to do it at all. Sure, get that teaching degree, but don’t put your writing on the backburner. Focus on it with all your might, and pour in all the love that you’ve always wanted to.

Of course, even now, I’m not really writing any famous novels or anything. I’m just rambling on Tumblr about writing. But what I’ve been learning is that you should write your heart out even if it’s like this. Write and don’t stop. It said that free-writing and rambling like this can lead to stories very easily. And even if it’s 10,000 words of nonsense, all you need is one sentence that might spark something truly amazing.

That’s, theoretically, what I’m going to be trying to do with my blog from now on. I want to make it a material-gathering place where I dump my thoughts and ideas and share pictures that truly inspire me. I want to make it my “quarry” of raw material from which I build my creations. Wish me luck!

#Ramble

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esselley · 6 years ago

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Ive been reading your fics for as long as I could remember. After all these years, I still feel attached to your works. I crie. Im not hating on BnHA but Im not totally hyped with it either (though I respect and appreciate it), that said, Im amazed that you hold onto KgHn despite writing for BnHA. Usually writers dont write for their previous series focus anymore once they get into a whole new fandom. I get sad when that happens. So Im thankful that you continuously give love to Hq and KgHn

I’ve been in lots and lots of fandoms, some for ages, others for a brief spark of a moment. Each one has helped me develop my creativity in different ways, and I’m glad for the accumulation of all those experiences ^^ And actually, whenever I feel my focus shift, it makes me sad, too. I think all these little pockets of fandom community are all different, because your friends don’t always come with you, and I’ve learned that the home I find in one can never be recaptured again in another. And… that’s okay, but it’s also scary.

I was actually really terrified when I realized I wanted to start seriously writing for another fandom XD as silly as that sounds. Because HQ/kghn fandom gave me (besides life and happiness and creativity and several of my best friends in the world) people to share my stories with. As I’ve mentioned on here before, that’s all I ever wanted since I was a little kid. It really was my somewhere to belong. I don’t know that I’ll ever find something like it again.

So, I guess it’s not that amazing that I still want to write more of them and I still want to be involved in HQ fandom -- because I still love it! IMO, the important thing with creating (especially fanwork) is that we do what inspires us, and we do what we love. Gaining a new interest hasn’t meant that I’ve lost the former one.

I don’t want to disappoint any of my readers, but I don’t think I can prevent that, since I’m not writing One Thing All The Time anymore. But in the end, I’m writing for myself, more than anyone else. And as long as I love all these things, then I’ll keep trying to create more stories for them, as much as I possibly can ^^

#anonymous #esselle replies #haikyuu ask

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victorluvsalice · 7 years ago

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Forgotten Vows Friday: For Want of a Nail

Who knows about this particular trope? For those of you who don't, "For Want of a Nail" is basically about a key moment in a story where, if one little thing had changed, everything would have been totally different. It's generally used as a starting point for an AU. As you might imagine, I'm a fan. XD I actually heard about the related term the "butterfly effect" (where one little action leads to big consequences) in a Corpse Bride "easter eggs" video I watched recently, where the creator claimed that if Victor hadn't taken that one extra step during the rehearsal and set Galswells off once and for all, the whole plot wouldn't have happened. That combined with a skim of the "For Want of a Nail" TV Tropes page got me thinking of "nail" moments in this verse, and what might have resulted if said nail had come loose.

Now, I've talked about Forgotten Vows-based AUs before -- but that was about two years ago, so I think we're due an update, aren't we? I've had a couple of new ideas since then, and refined/dropped some old ones. Moving from latest to earliest:

-->Whether or not someone, running late for their train, decides to either give up and take a later one, or sprint into the Moorgate Station near Houndsditch in an attempt to catch it there: In the main verse, the person gives up, and Alice kills Bumby unseen and is able to take Victor back home to Houndsditch with her. In the AU, the person sprints into Moorgate just in time to see Alice push Bumby, and promptly screams and sprints back out to fetch a bobby. Alice is forced to leave Victor at the station with the command "Just go where the police tell you!" before making a run for it, and Harry and Fred find Victor still in Thirteen mode there. . .and eventually take him to Rutledge when they can't snap him out of it. This is the nail that sparks off the Catch Us If You Can Verse, where Victor and Alice end up vigilantes killing the worst of the worst that stalks Whitechapel's streets after Alice breaks Victor out of Rutledge (the pair of them killing the Monroes in the process).

-->Whether or not Victor in Thirteen mode, dreaming of Alice the night before the Moorgate station confrontation, wakes up before he remembers her name in the dream or not: This comes from the last chapter of "Triskaidekaphobia," where Victor has a rather interesting dream about Alice while as Thirteen. In the main canon, he wakes up before he can actually remember who she is . But in the AU where he stayed asleep. . .well. The way I've got it set up in a few private AUy bits is, his subconscious takes the desperate measure of having dream-Alice rehypnotize him and set herself up as his Mistress so he'll default to obeying her instead of Bumby once they're reunited. There's a few hints of him seeing her that way in the main FVV canon, but it's a LOT stronger here -- to the point where when Victor sees her in the station, he immediately fully snaps out of Thirteen mode and attacks Bumby. The pair try to drag the psychiatrist off to the police to face justice, but Bumby breaks free -- and while they're trying to recapture him, ends up falling in front of the train Alice would have pushed him in front of anyways. So that's that. On the plus side, Alice has a Victor with his memory back as she works to deal with the aftermath; on the minus side, she now has a Victor who keeps trying to call her Mistress and automatically does whatever she asks. It leads to some interesting awkwardness for a while.

-->Whether or not Lizzie decides to pursue the figure she sees in the fog in Hyde Park: In the main verse, she decides against it, and leaves the Land of the Living on Halloween frustrated she never found her sister. In the AU, she decides for it, and -- sure enough, it's Alice! Alice, naturally, just considers Lizzie another hallucination at first -- but then Bonejangles appears and confirms he can see her too, and Alice realizes she's actually there. After a tearful reunion, Lizzie and Alice compare notes on Bumby (Alice having of course recently realized he killed their family, and that he's probably doing nothing good to the Houndsditch orphans -- Lizzie fills in the gaps, to her growing horror), and the group heads to Houndsditch for a final confrontation.

Where they encounter Bumby, er, enjoying Thirteen. Bumby is naturally stunned by the sight of Lizzie apparently back among the living, while the sight of Alice snaps Victor out of Thirteen mode. He and Lizzie both fall on Bumby in a rage, and between them, the psychiatrist ends up very dead. Alice ends up skipping the Dollhouse in Wonderland (as she no longer needs to go there), Victor ends up in a slightly better state than he was in "Remembering You" (still badly traumatized, of course, but not fully amnesiac), and Lizzie and Bonejangles return Downstairs in triumph.

-->Whether or not Lizzie is able to get herself to sneak past the toughs hanging around Houndsditch's back door on Halloween: In the main verse, she can't (no surprise), and leaves the Land of the Dead frustrated she couldn't get her own back on Bumby. In the AU, Bonejangles comes up with a plan to lure them away, and Lizzie is able to dart inside while they're distracted. She makes her way up to Bumby's office -- to find him "enjoying" Thirteen. Lizzie, as you might expect, is enraged, and attacks the startled Bumby -- he tries to get Thirteen to defend him, but Lizzie looks just enough like Alice that Victor can't bring himself to hurt her. Lizzie slams Bumby over the head with a paperweight, knocking him out (she only doesn't kill him so she doesn't have to see him Downstairs), and Bonejangles returns to see what the heck's going on. He's horrified to recognize Victor, who's kind of stuck between himself and Thirteen -- and who keeps trying to call Lizzie "Alice." The kids, also coming up to investigate, fill in a few of the gaps about what's been happening lately, and Lizzie realizes they've got to find her sister to help Victor. She leaves Bonejangles temporarily in charge of Houndsditch and brings Victor with her to search.

By sheer luck, they manage to bump into Alice in Hyde Park -- seeing her manages to bring Victor a little more back to himself, and Alice of course is tearfully astonished to see her sister. Lizzie tells her what's happened, and Alice comes back with her to Houndsditch, picking up some police along the way. Bumby is arrested, Alice starts working to help Victor, and Lizzie and Bonejangles return to the Land of the Dead triumphant. (So much like the previous AU, only with the two main events reversed and Bumby not dying.)

-->Whether or not Alice realizes Victor loves her in the Deluded Depths: In the main verse, Alice talks herself out of thinking that Victor could ever see her that way. In the AU, she allows herself to follow that train of thought and realizes both his and her feelings a lot sooner. So when she wakes up and heads to Radcliffe's to ask about her rabbit, she leaves Victor with a kiss instead of just a friendly goodbye (Victor, as you might imagine, is first stunned, then THRILLED. However, with Wonderland still in such a mess, and her own outburst at Radcliffe's, she decides she's not ready for a real relationship and tells Victor such when Harry takes her back after her fainting episode in the station. Victor is understanding, and the verse goes on much like the main one (without the Queensland revelation, of course, and with Alice even more determined to get to the bottom of what's going on because of what's waiting for her on the other side).

-->Whether or not Victor goes ahead and kisses Alice at the end of their dance, before all her Wonderland adventures start: In the main verse, Bumby interrupts before he can, and he never gets up the nerve again before everything goes to hell. In the AU, he goes for it -- and Alice, realizing what's happening, also realizes just why she feels so warm and fluttery around him lately and reciprocates.

And then Bumby comes in, sees them, and -- in a jealous rage -- THROWS VICTOR OUT OF HOUNDSDITCH AND SLAPS ALICE. Shocked, angered, and more than a little terrified, Alice ends up falling into Wonderland early -- and Victor, still outside when it happens (trying to find a good way to sneak back inside and grab his things) ends up chasing her when she darts onto the streets in a daze. I haven't worked out what happens after that, but I'm guessing it involves Victor keeping an eye on Alice in the real world while she fights her way through Wonderland and trying to find them a safe place to stay while Bumby tries to recapture his lost patient.

-->Whether or not the detectives William and Nell hired decide to give the Everglots' summer home a second look while they’re searching for them: In the main verse, they do so and find the Everglots hiding basically under everyone’s noses. In the AU, they don’t think to give it another look, completely miss the Everglots, and William finally ends up dismissing them, thinking the Everglots have fled overseas. There’s two branches here that I can see resulting from this -- Victor finally giving up on the Land of the Living and killing himself (reasoning that even if Emily isn’t down there anymore, the rest of his friends and his dog are); or Victor sticking it out, being sent to Dr. Bumby anyway (since he’s still insisting he married a corpse), and he and Victoria have a DOUBLY-awkward reunion when she encounters him in the Bow Street station after meeting Alice (Victor: WTF I thought you were in America?? Victoria: WTF yourself, I thought you were dead!)

-->Whether or not the detectives decide to investigate that summer house earlier: In the main verse, they skip over it, thinking it too obvious and long-abandoned to be where the Everglots are staying, and only come back to it later (see above point). In the AU, they check it just to be thorough, and look at that, there are the Everglots. This is early enough that Victoria has not yet heard the “damned” news, and only just knows Christopher -- so when Victor shows up with his parents, she’s still all for marrying him. Her parents are very much not, however, so she talks Victor into eloping instead. Christopher helps them run off, the Everglots disown Victoria, the Van Dorts grumble a little but decide this way they at least get to keep their cash. Victor and Victoria move on with their lives with Christopher as a dear family friend, Alice never meets Victor, and the Forgotten Vows Verse derails right back into canon.

-->Whether or not Gertrude Carter ends up bedridden the day after the Dead return: In the main verse, she does, and dies shortly thereafter, hanging on just long enough to see Galswells start the rhetoric that will lead to Victor becoming the village pariah. In the AU, she manages to hang on for longer and publicly shames Galswells for his attitude. Galswells doesn’t budge on his opinions, but the villagers, embarrassed, are rather less hostile to Victor. More importantly, though, having Gertrude so vocally defend Victor convinces the Van Dorts that maybe Victor isn’t as mad as he seems, and they don’t ever have the idea to send him to Dr. Bumby. Victor still doesn’t get back with Victoria, though, since that’s a separate nail. Instead, he resigns himself to a life of bachelorhood -- until the day his parents bring him to the London Opera House, and he accidentally bumps into a certain green-eyed lady working there. . .

#forgotten vows friday #forgotten vows aus #tw: violence #tw: death mention #tw: rape mention #that feel when you get inspired #and then realize you kind of did a post like this already #and then you realize that was about two years ago and you have some new ideas #so yeah #it was interesting seeing how some early nails could have derailed the entire verse #the last one about Mrs. Carter is me working out how a different AU could have started #one of the uh hypnokinky ones I've talked about once or twice #features a bit of Alice Otherlands with Alice at the opera house and such #and that 'kiss at the end of the dance' one ran off in an unexpected direction #I always knew Bumby would throw Victor out #but the slap just jumped into my mind and I was like #'what if that triggered her fall into Wonderland instead of Pris being a bitch?'#I dunno where it would go from there but it's an interesting idea #trying to focus on the AUs I already HAVE though #should write some Catch Us snippets this Halloween season on that note #queued

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calzona-ga · 7 years ago

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Before Grey's Anatomy premiered its 14th season last week, fans were promised a return to form. Krista Vernoff—a writer and producer on the show since its first season and showrunner of seasons four to seven, who left the team in 2011—is back again to serve as showrunner this year. And she's bringing with her a throwback to the lighthearted, banter-filled tone of the series' early days, when oddball cases and on-call room nookies balanced the show's notoriously tearjerking drama.

For Jessica Capshaw, that means falling in love with her (already much-loved) character all over again.

When Dr. Arizona Robbins first appeared in season five—before high-drama plotlines like the plane crash that took half of Seattle's doctors down with it—she was a free-spirited pediatric surgeon who rolled through the halls on her Heelys. She was a B-12 shot of chipper energy to a sometimes angsty ensemble, and her relationship with Dr. Callie Torres (Sara Ramirez) became a cornerstone for fans, especially gay viewers itching for more LGBTQ visibility in primetime.

"I could never have anticipated how important it would be to me to [play a gay character] at a time when telling this story actually means something to people."

Shonda Rhimes has disavowed the term "diversity," saying instead that her mission is to "normalize" TV by populating her projects with character that reflect real life's array of different perspectives, experiences, shapes, colors, and lifestyles. Callie and Arizona fit neatly into that mission before Ramirez left the cast at the end of season 12.

Now Capshaw—who's every bit as effervescent as her character, talking at an excited clip and eager to pepper our conversation with exclamations of love for her cast and crew—is eager to go straight for the funny bone, especially when it comes to exploring Arizona's single life. Here she opens up to MarieClaire.com about recapturing the spark that first made the show a sensation, what it's like to say goodbye to old castmates (and hello again to returning ones), and what being in Shondaland for nine years has taught her.

HOW HAS THE SHIFT IN GREY'S ANATOMY'S TONE CHANGED THINGS SO FAR? "You won't find a person on or near the show who isn’t well aware that this year, the show is really going back to the beginning. Well, I wasn’t even there at the beginning, so pretend like it’s the beginning plus me. The show started with this spark, people gathered around it and starting really loving all of its warmth. Then it became this fire and it just kinda has kept burning. Shonda and all the writers and producers have been smart enough to stoke the fire when needed—people have left and new people have come in, and they've always found equilibrium—so that it can burn for a long time. So here we are, a rip-roaring fire. Everyone can roast their marshmallows around us!

And now we're going back to that initial spark—the characters are 14 years older and there’s a different set of challenges, but it's got the same old kind of humor. I think this season is going to be really funny. At the beginning of the show, which I remember as a viewer, every once and a while there would be a storyline that was super absurd, and you just went with it, and you always ended up at some sort of emotional crossroad. You'll be seeing more of that."

WHEN THE CHARACTER OF ARIZONA WAS INTRODUCED, SHE WAS AN UPBEAT NEW DOCTOR—BUT HER STORY ARC TOOK HER TO DARK PLACES. WHAT DOES THIS SEASON MEAN FOR HER? "For the past few years, there was sort of a dark, post-plane crash Arizona, and for good reason. There were funny bits in there, and the character that people had initially responded to was definitely in there too, but maybe not as radiant as she once was. Not that I'm calling myself radiant! But I think that Arizona is sunshine. She came in bright, and there was always something about her that was really fun to play, that resonated with people. This season, I think, is a return to that Arizona."

LAST SEASON WAS YOUR FIRST WITHOUT SARA RAMIREZ, WHO WAS YOUR MOST CONSISTENT SCENE PARTNER. WHAT WAS IT LIKE TO SUDDENLY BE WITHOUT YOUR OTHER HALF? "In our jobs, you spend so much time with the people you’re working with that you do create a kind of family. And like a real family, you inherit each other. You're put together, then you work and play together, then over the years there is the developing of relationships, the deepening of relationships, some departures and estrangements. Sara and I had such an incredible group of fans who championed the relationship between Callie and Arizona, and that felt so, so good. We took it really seriously. We put our best foot forward in everything we did, in terms of representing a couple, of representing a relationship that we could really be proud of. It was really, really wonderful.

And then of course, Sara wanted to move on, and so we said goodbye. We had our moment, like, 'Oh my gosh, I wish you the best! Whatever you're going to do next is going to be amazing.' But the characters we played are going to get to live on in perpetuity somewhere in Shondaland. It’s so much fun to play with a relationship that lasts for a really long time, because you get to challenge yourself in different ways throughout. And then there’s something really fun about having to learn and grow and be surrounded by new actors and relationships who challenge you in new ways. So I guess the answer is that it's bittersweet.

Callie and Arizona coupled up pretty quickly, so we didn't get to see much of single Arizona until last season's flirtations with Dr. Minnick. But based on last week's premiere, it looks like we'll be seeing a lot more of Arizona in the dating scene. What happens when your other friends are together and you're single? How do you juggle dating with being a single, working mom?"

YOU'VE PLAYED A GAY CHARACTER ON PRIMETIME TELEVISION FOR NINE YEARS. HOW HAS THAT EXPERIENCE AND THE FEEDBACK FROM FANS CHANGED OVER TIME? "There is no end to how incredibly moved I have been by the letters or direct messages or tweets or Instagram comments from people whose lives have been in some way, shape, or form affected by just the telling of a gay woman's story on primetime network television. I could never have known. I had no idea when I came to Grey's Anatomy that I was even going to be playing a gay character. I could never have anticipated how important it would be to me too, at a time in the world and in the country where telling this story actually means something to people. But the needle is being moved, constantly. I can tell you right now that the letters I was getting nine years ago are different from the letters that I'm getting today. Today they're much more emboldened. Especially the younger generation of viewers, who have a full understanding of who they are, and are choosing to embrace who they are without hesitation. I love that part."

"Once you're in Shondaland, you're *in* Shondaland."

THE SHOW HAS A DIVERSE ROSTER OF MEN AND WOMEN WHO WRITE AND DIRECT IT. HOW HAS THAT SHAPED THE WAY YOU TELL STORIES? "I'm kind of out of my element here because I don't really know how the writers would want to be identified or how they would want their process to be described. But the way I feel as an actor on this show is that, very simply put, there's representation. That's good for every single character. It's never really just one person who writes a whole show, anyway. They have a group of writers so that someone can come in and help fortify a certain perspective or suggest little tweaks that make story a little more true, a little more resonant for viewers. It feels egalitarian, it feels just. There's a distinct sense that this is the way things should be, that you need representation in the beautiful land of storytelling."

CHANDRA WILSON, KEVIN MCKIDD, AND DEBBIE ALLEN HAVE ALL DIRECTED SEVERAL EPISODES OF THE SHOW. LAST SEASON, ELLEN POMPEO DIRECTED HER FIRST EPISODE TOO. WHAT'S IT LIKE TO BE DIRECTED BY YOUR COSTARS? "You know, another actor is directing an episode towards the end of the season too. I won't even tell you who. I won't be a spoiler! But I asked them, 'What made you want to do it?' And they said, 'You know, it's just and incredible opportunity, to be supported in learning how to do this. There's no way that I would ever want to pass that up.' But the caveat is that you have to do the work. Every actor that has directed has spent copious, long hours shadowing. They come to set when they're working as an actor, but they also come to set when they're not working. They sit in the chair behind the director and they watch and they watch and they watch so that they know what they're doing. Me? I'm okay with not directing. I have four kids. Maybe when they get older."

KIM RAVER, WHO PLAYS FAN FAVORITE DR. TEDDY ALTMAN, IS BACK THIS SEASON. WHAT WAS IT LIKE TO SEE HER ON SET AGAIN? "Oh my gosh, I love her so much. I was so happy she came back for even just a little bit. You know, everyone consistently says that once you're in Shondaland, you're in Shondaland. Because it's true. You're in the fold. You're in the mix. You're one of her people. So you never say never because unless your character actually genuinely dies, you can always come back. And even then you could be a ghost."

ALLY MCBEAL'S GREG GERMANN COMES TO GREY-SLOAN MEMORIAL THIS SEASON, BUT HIS CHARACTER HAS BEEN KEPT UNDER WRAPS. WHAT CAN YOU TELL US? "I can tell you that he plays an incredibly experienced, incredibly arrogant, incredibly funny doctor who comes to the hospital to help out one of our doctors. If you had talked to me three days ago, I would have had nothing to say about him, because I've only ever seen him across from me at the table read. But I actually ran into him the other day—he was in the golf cart going up the set and I was walking down. He was on Ally McBeal back when I was on The Practice. I said, 'I was across the way from you on the lot when I was on The Practice.' And he goes, 'Oh, yes! I have a vague impression of you.' And I said, 'Well, I always aim to leave a vague impression!' And he was, of course, mortified. He started treading water and it was hysterical. He is very, very funny. He's exactly how you would imagine him from the Ally McBealdays."

YOU'RE ABOUT TO HIT THE SHOW'S 300TH EPISODE. HOW DO YOU PLAN TO CELEBRATE? "Oh, I think we're going to eat a lot of cake, my friend."

#jessica capshaw #grey's anatomy #arizona robbins #season 14 #Calzona #sara ramirez

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a-travels · 5 years ago

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taken: 22 dec, 2019 AMC 34th Street 14, Manhattan, NY

this is where the fun begins

Yes, I’m going to do a review of the new Star Wars movie.

Personally, I hate reading a review and reading endless fluff to hear their thoughts on a movie. So upfront, I did not like this movie at all, perhaps not entirely evidenced by the jubilant nature of this picture, but my views, nonetheless. If you want to stop reading, then by all means please do. This is unsurprisingly my longest post to date, and probably will be for some time so I don’t blame you if you don’t want to read through the text equivalent of a grown man crying.

I don’t know if I represent the classic Star Wars fan or not, but I think it makes more sense to hear my review with some context of my relationship with this franchise.

Perhaps contrary to popular belief, I did not grow up a Star Wars kid. I was certainly aware of the franchise and knew the famous aspects of it. I knew about Darth Vader and lightsabers, I knew about the “I am your father” moment and the Force. I saw Episode III in theatres in 2005 and remember the Anakin and Obi-wan fight, but was asleep for most of the movie. Since then I had somehow seen all of the 6 movies and knew the basic story of the movies, but never had any deep interest in the lore like I do now. My story with Star Wars began in high school, watching the Clone Wars television show. I won’t bore you with how much I loved that show, but it really exposed me to the vastness of the galaxy, the deep emotional storytelling that Star Wars really built its core fanbase on. I found myself connecting to the characters and really encouraged the inner fanboy to latch on to every minuscule detail of the lore and finding the connections to the movies. Needless to say, it was what really awakened (no pun intended) my passion for this franchise and really recontextualized the prequels and original trilogy for me in a new and exciting way. I think it all culminated in this perfect storm before 2015 before The Force Awakens (TFA) came out in 2015 and with general fan fervor at an all-time high. It was a good time to be a Star Wars fan.

Episode VII hits and fans are generally happy. It wasn’t perfect mind you, it felt like a retread, some iffy story points, but overall very satisfying and for many a return to “feeling like Star Wars”, which for many was distinctly absent from the prequels because it was so different. Rogue One was also positively received as well in 2016. I happen to like both of these movies as well.

And then 2017 hits with Episode VIII, The Last Jedi.

I won’t ramble too much about this movie, because I know this is something that divides a lot of people. I think most people in my sphere did actually enjoy this movie. It’s not a perfect movie, and I think everyone (including supporters like myself) would admit that. But for me, this movie recaptured that spark of surprise and wonder that really made me fall in love with this franchise to begin with. By all means, this is an unconventional Star Wars movie: the original hero (Luke) is a jaded cynical man, the whole B-plot is the world's slowest chase sequence, and plot-wise, very little actually happens. I think where this movie really sings was in its attempt to really focus on character and bring something new to Star Wars. It asked questions about the power structure of Star Wars, namely the force, and had you question its workings, matching the cynicism of Luke, but in turn making your conviction in it that much stronger, just like what happened with Luke and when he comes back and has that incredible Kurosawa-esque fight with Kylo on Crait. I think a lot of people who think of this franchise, fans especially, have such a fixed idea of what this movie and franchise should be, that anything that seems to deviate or challenge that can seem honestly jarring in some ways. It’s why the Holiday Special is reviled because coming right off the original movie, people didn’t still have that sense of what made Star Wars, Star Wars; but when people saw it, they knew that wasn’t it. It’s why people hated the prequels (at first) because rather than seeing a hero’s journey, good versus evil and more, you got clunky dialogue, droll politics, seemingly-idiotic and childish characters, and wooden acting. For all the wrong the prequels did, and the criticism it (rightfully) deserved, the prequels had a story to tell and told us something new (albeit in a largely ham-fisted way). Keep the prequels in mind because I’ll be touching back on it.

I’m going to be upfront, I’m writing this bit now almost two months after I started this post and saw the movie. All the stuff above this was from then, but I’ve really just taken a break to just let my thoughts congeal more on this movie because I was just in a bit of shock coming out of it. To be honest, I still can’t tell you my thoughts on this movie are fully formed, but I do think I’m finally ready to express my thoughts on this movie in some sort of coherent manner.

If it isn’t obvious, my review is obviously going to be colored by my view of this franchise. You are entitled to your own view on this franchise and view on this movie. Also, I have tried to link the deeper lore information with articles in this review. The links are the underlined words so feel free to check them out. Anyways, here we go.

So, I didn’t like the movie then; but having thought about now for two months, this film just makes me angrier and sadder with every passing thought. For me, this movie is not only a betrayal of the past two movies which I enjoyed but honestly a betrayal of the whole franchise which I love so much. There was an excellent video I just watched and I think it accurately sums up my views on this movie quite well. But this movie for me can be summed up in four words: unearned, unsatisfying, wasted potential. I think it makes the most sense to unpack this movie with those four words because, to be honest, I could go on for hours on this movie, and I think any of you who know me, know I could, but still probably will.

Unearned.

This movie touts itself as an ending, holding all the answers to the questions we started off with from VII, and arguably, from I-VI. I was nervous when it was announced that the king of the mystery box, the notorious reviver and rebooter of franchises, J.J. Abrams, was tasked to not only write an ending but answer all these questions, many of which he set up. Seeing the ire he caused in the Star Trek community after Star Trek: Into Darkness, I can’t say I was all too shocked to see that these answers (among the few we actually got) unfolded in ways that made little to no sense with the story we were set up with.

Let’s start off with the big one, (oh yeah also this post is going to be spoilerific. I’d say don’t read if you haven’t seen it, but frankly I don’t care if you just read this, don’t see it and just save yourself the time) Rey Palpatine, or Rey Skywalker?? Yeah, I have problems with both in massive, massive ways. But let’s tackle these one by one. Rey is our hero of this trilogy, a character we are introduced to, who we are told and who herself thinks is nobody, is whisked away on this journey on a story much bigger than her. Nothing new here, this is just Luke as a girl so far. Episode VII goes out of its way to seed us with this one big question: who is Rey? Our extensive Wookiepedia-esque knowledge of Star Wars dictates to us that, based on precedent, if she is the main character, she has to be someone we know. Anakin was our prequel protagonist and was related to Luke, maybe she’s related to Luke? That was what we wanted to know going out of VII and into VIII. So what do we see in Episode VIII? Rey struggles with trying to figure out who she is, “trying to find her place” and even dabbles with the dark side of the force in her “limited” training to try to uncover who she is. And what was the answer: she’s no one. A shock to the system. Impossible! How can this be? A protagonist this powerful is a nobody? She’s too overpowered! No force user with that little training could be that strong. But is it really that shocking? The Skywalkers started off as a family of nobodies. Shmi was a slave. Anakin was a child without a father, albeit with some freaky immaculate conception circumstances, but in all other senses, unremarkable and inconspicuous. The same could be said about Rey. And honestly, was it really all that surprising? The trailer we saw at Star Wars Celebration 2015 literally starts off with Maz asking Rey “Who are you?” and her replying “I’m no one.” I know a bunch of people were not so happy with Rey already being so force-sensitive and powerful, essentially being a “Mary Sue” character despite having no important lineage or bloodline. But to me, the democratization of the force was something that really intrigued me and seemed to set the stage for a new era of Star Wars, maybe with a new set of movies based on Rey’s lineage, the Rey Saga or something. This was an idea we saw with broom boy at the end of VIII, which fits with what we already know about the galaxy, that everyone is born with the force but some kids are force-sensitive, and that he could be among the next generation of “Jedi” or force users. And then IX comes and tells us, nope it was just Palpatine’s granddaughter. Where was that evidence (and do not point me to that fan theory video where some guy on YouTube who says that)? Where in any of the prior movies did we get any remote inkling of Rey’s connection at all to Palpatine? Hell, where was the hint that Palpatine was remotely involved with any of the scheming going on in VII and VIII? Even in the prequels, we got hints that Anakin would turn to evil (fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering). Well I can tell you having scrutinized those prior two films myself, there was never any seeds of Palpatine’s presence. It was something just brought in because “OOO a name I recognize of a powerful force user.” How that happened, what that means for the story beats of her being no one in those other two movies, “Eh, just don’t worry about those, this is how it is”. Unearned. And oh boy, Rey Skywalker. Let’s talk about this in the context of Episode IX logic, apart from the logic I already presented, that the prior movies very clearly seem to imply Rey is a nobody. Episode IX is a movie about Rey ultimately discovering who she is, and how when she finds out her lineage, how she eschews her “nature” and stands for good and righteousness in the galaxy because she isn’t defined by a name or bloodline. Even beyond that, we’re told she’s nobody because her parents “chose to be nobodies” and didn’t want to be defined by the name of the reviled megalomaniac of the galaxy. Great! So, wouldn’t it be interesting to see our character find strength in herself and set aside the dumb importance of name and legacy (letting the past die 😉) and honor her parents by choosing to be nobody herself? She buries Luke’s and Leia’s lightsabers on Tatooine (a planet that Luke hated by the way and Leia was on for maybe a few hours or days as a slave to a fat, gross, giant slug in a metal bikini and has no attachment to, a planet with no significance to Rey either) and is somehow asked randomly by this traveler “who are you”, who isn’t satisfied when she gives her name as “Rey”. Forgive me for being nit-picky here, but how weird is it to force a conversation to ask someone their last name randomly, especially when there are TONS of creatures in the galaxy with one-name names. Somehow, a vision of Luke and Leia is enough to convince her she is now a Skywalker, because....force ghosts, Tatooine, Twin Suns, Binary Sunset music, nostalgia-porn. Where in the hell does it make any sense that she adopts the name of Skywalker? How? Because it doesn’t make sense, because it is unearned. Nothing about her “choosing” to be a Skywalker jives with the internal logic this movie sets out, much less the logical flow of the prior eight movies as a whole.

What about Reylo. Oh boy. This is something I know a select few of my friends actually liked. Yes, I concede there was some sexual tension between Rey and Kylo in Episode VIII, but I do not think they were setting them up to be a thing. Kylo is a character who murdered his own father in cold blood, and then murdered his own master (Snoke). This entire time, we are led to believe Snoke is manipulating Kylo and his conflict isn’t given room to settle because its forced one way over the other. Now, Snoke is dead and Kylo is relinquished of this external force telling him what to do, and he still chose to be evil and rule the galaxy, despite Rey’s pleas to join her on the light. Any and all hope to redeem him in my eyes, vanished in that moment. Yes, Anakin fell to the dark side and did some terrible things, but he never was irredeemable because there was someone above him pulling the strings and orchestrating it all. This is a key story structure that makes us as an audience believe that is because of how our villains were set up. In these movies, you have your big bad villain, and then your sub-villain. The sub-villain is usually redeemable but is often dispensable, while the big bad villain is simply the embodiment of evil and can only be destroyed, not redeemed. The sub-villain is sympathetic because you get the sense they are being manipulated or played like a puppet, always leaving room to be redeemed or free themselves, if they can be free of those shackles. That is the nature of the relationship between Palpatine and Darth Vader, and that was the nature of the relationship between Snoke and Kylo Ren. The difference now is Kylo kills Snoke in VIII instead of IX and has now an entire other movie to live with the consequences. He is free of those shackles, and yet he still chooses to be evil. Rey’s connection through “force-time” was her connection to Kylo and her attempt to turn him. She literally leaves her training with Luke because she believes that, only to find Kylo betray her faith in him. Rey acknowledges he cannot be saved, and literally closes the door on Kylo, accepting he is now fully gone. Tell me, how does closing the literal and metaphorical door on someone who has murdered his own father, killed hundreds of innocent people, was given the full free choice to be good and choose evil, lead to love? Because it’s unearned. And frankly, their interactions in Episode IX doesn’t really do much to change that either. Kylo Ren is still moody and literally acts as a constant source of opposition to Rey, with little to actually show their relationship is romantic in any way. Oh yeah, but somehow getting stabbed by a girl and getting healed from almost dying really is such a turn on. I’m sorry, but it’s just unearned. (Hello from even further in the future, I am now writing this in April with updates to this bit. The novelization of Episode IX revealed that their kiss wasn’t romantic, in fact. They gave us this: “His [Kylo’s] heart was full as Rey reached for his face, let her fingers linger against his cheek. And then, wonder of wonders, she leaned forward and kissed him. A kiss of gratitude, acknowledgement of their connection, celebration that they’d found each other at last.” I don’t know what the hell is going on in Lucasfilm, but this is much, MUCH worse. Just a few months back, J.J. said their relationship was a “brother-sister” thing in a romantic way but not really. Can we go back to a half-baked romance again, please? Also, they revealed that Rey’s dad is failed clone of Palpatine.).

Now, let’s talk about Palpatine himself. “The dead speak” “Somehow, Palpatine has returned.” Yeah so this is the big, big leap this movie asks you to take right from the get-go. I understood a lot of the trepidation around bringing back Palps back, mostly surrounding the fear that his return invalidates the sacrifice Anakin/Vader make at the end of Episode VI, bringing balance to the force, mortally electrocuting himself in the process saving his son out of love. I understood the concern, but I had enjoyed the first two films in the sequel and I’m always willing to give a movie a shot in the theater. As long as they explained his return in a satisfying manner, I’d be in. Once the lights dim, the Star Wars logo pops up and you hear John Williams triumphant score, regardless of the drama and bad press, everyone always starts with a clean slate. And then, of course, we get no explanation as to why he’s back beyond a cheeky quip from the prequels “The dark side of the force is a pathway to many abilities some consider to be unnatural.” Har har, +100 nostalgia, much memes.

Yeah it just boggles my mind that the head villain, that for six movies our protagonists tried to defeat and who we thought was defeated (and who even the actor, Ian McDiarmid thought was dead), somehow came back to life. He was thrown down an energy shaft, and vaporized. Then the space station in which he was thrown down is subsequently destroyed and atomized, and somehow, we’re told he comes back to life. Perhaps the casual audience wouldn’t remember or notice or care, but beyond the fans, and anyone following a story deserves a little bit more than just a little tease with no actual explanation. For the record, yes, they did explain how Palpatine was saved, but in the visual dictionary, with his body retrieved by Sith Acolytes, brought to Exogol, and revived using “technology and the occult”. Say what you will, but that is not satisfying to me and still begs a better explanation for his return and undercut Kylo’s character progression, invalidating his choice to be bad without being beholden to anyone. Kylo was not going to be redeemed, and then Disney gave him a get-out-of-jail-free-card by putting him under the shadow of “the real villain” so that his redemption “made sense”. Except, it made no sense to randomly introduce a more powerful villain. It was narrative cheating and it was unearned to see Palpatine back, and eventually, Kylo/Ben redeemed because of it. It just is not good enough. I think more heinous for me, is that this move inarguably undoes the work of the past 6 movies. In the effort to create this breathing piece of nostalgia and love for George Lucas and the past 42 years of storytelling, it ends up betraying it in perhaps one of the most scathing ways imaginable, unintentional or not.

(Hi, another update from two-month-future me. The novelization for this movie now revealed that Palpatine’s “essence” is what is alive and is now being transferred into clone bodies, of sorts. Here is the quote: “So the falling, dying Emperor called on all the dark power of the Force to thrust his consciousness far, far away, to a secret place he had been preparing. His body was dead, an empty vessel, long before it hit the bottom of the shaft, and his mind jolted to new awareness in a new body—a painful one, a temporary one.” Yeah, this novelization really isn’t making things better.)

Unsatisfying.

Admittedly, this is a very subjective metric (though I guess so are the other two descriptors), but satisfaction is a unique experience for each person, more than the other two descriptors. I think one of the worst things a movie can do is be boring, where there is no excitement or energizing quality to a story that there it can’t illicit any emotion out of you. What I think is worse potentially, and what I think is the cardinal sin of this movie, isn’t just the fact this movie was bad, but how it is so far beyond a failure that it has retroactively affected how I view the prior movies now and has diminished their impact on me.

Let’s first talk about its failings as a movie itself. I think when discussing this movie, and this new era of Star Wars, it’s hard not to separate the shift in direction from its new relationship with its new owner, Disney. It’s actually shocking to see how Disney has overall mismanaged this franchise and created such a rift amongst the fandom from the five or so movies it has released over the past four years. This movie more than any other, even more than VII, feels uniquely like a product of corporate intervention and directing, rather than the voice and vision of an auteur. What is now known, is that Disney fired the original director of this movie and scrapped his plans for (in my mind) a far more interesting movie that took the characters and story in brand new directions, paying homage to the past without relying on it, but utilizing it in an effective manner to further the story and plot in a meaningful way. And yes, it importantly kept Rey a “nobody” and it kept Kylo Ren bad and unredeemed, and did not have them kiss. If you want to read more about this, I recommend searching for “Colin Trevorrow Dual of the Fates Script” and you’re bound to find it. I also have the full pdf script of it and would be happy to share it if you would like. I encourage you to read it if you’re interested and form your own opinions on it.

Speaking more to this movie, it objectively had three major goals: wrap up its own three-movie trilogy, wrap up the entire 42-year, nine-film saga, and of course function as its own movie. That is not an easy job by any stretch, and I think any filmmaker would have an incredibly challenging time accomplishing those three tasks, while under the scrutiny of a giant corporation and a rabid fanbase. Except, that is almost exactly the same position George Lucas was in when making his prequel films. Again, I’ll get back to that point in a little bit. I think there could be an argument of cutting this film some slack if it accomplished some of these goals. Maybe this movie didn’t end all nine movies nicely, but at least it worked in its own trilogy? Maybe this movie didn’t end either the trilogy or saga so well, but at least it was a fun movie itself? Somehow, J.J. Abrams and Disney succeeded in fulfilling none of these tasks in my mind.

Like I mentioned, the Force Awakens is far from a perfect movie, but it too came in with a very similar set of goals, especially being Disney’s first Star Wars movie, those being:

1. Establish a new story that connects with the prior six films 2. Set up the foundation for a new trilogy that will last the next 4-5 year 3. Reinvigorate the Star Wars fandom and get them excited about the new era of Star Wars entertainment on the way 4. Work as its own movie.

I think in some ways, these challenges were harder than what Episode IX faced and yet in a lot of ways, it still succeeded in many, if not all of these respects. I think the major failing of Episode VII is its reliance and, often, copying of past story points without much of the finesse in “making it rhyme like poetry” which George Lucas loved to do so much. Episode VII really did reinvigorate the franchise, did introduce us to great cast and characters that left us wanting more from a trilogy, did connect in some satisfying (though sometimes a bit on the nose) ways, and did leave us feeling excited, hopeful and energized with Star Wars. Episode VIII came in and was arguably a lot more disruptive, asking us to challenge what we knew and what we thought we wanted to know and instead posed more basic fundamental questions about the foundations of this story, which I think was an important introspective moment for the saga and this trilogy as the penultimate chapter of both. It had us question the nature of the force, the importance of this “Skywalker” lineage, and the nature of Jedi in this universe where Luke truly is the only one left. It had us question our own conceptions of Luke as a swashbuckling do-no-wrong hero and showed us a more cynical, perhaps jarring, but a realistic Luke that blames himself and his belief in this ancient religion for unleashing Kylo Ren and a new era of darkness upon the galaxy. We also saw how Luke was struggling with how he was roped into this way of life from this old hermit he met for a day or two and then left to navigate reviving the religion of the Jedi on his own. We were also asked to question the nature of the force and whether this sort of power was isolated to a few people and families, or is truly something anyone can have? Again, whether fans agree or not with these story choices or not, The Last Jedi still functions as its own story and does (in my opinion) meaningfully connect to the prior story. Whether fans believe that meaning was eschewing the fabric of Star Wars or whether they believe these challenges strengthened the mythology (like I do), it was still meaningful in that it does draw upon the story from the last movie directly and progress it in some manner (whether a positive manner or not, I’ll let you decide). And regardless of how you like VIII or not, the movie left the door wide open for any kind of story to be told. Our heroes are starting from zero, the villain is now trying to learn the ropes. There is no real cliffhanger of sorts but rather an invitation for total freedom to tell the next story and wrap up this trilogy and saga.

Episode IX unfortunately comes across as one of the laziest ways imaginable to end this nine-story arc. In serving as the final movie of the saga, this movie seemed obsessed with callbacks, and nostalgia plays to remind us of the world we’re in and the “story” we’re watching, rather than relying on the story, character and narrative. I think to a fault, it incorporated elements of past movies, just to say it had it, and in many ways cheapened the overall character or object or story point. I think the biggest example again, is bringing the emperor back, which makes such little sense in the context of what we were presented in the prior two films because it wasn’t ever hinted or ever part of the plan to include him in the first place. The emperor was simply added because of the “nostalgia”. Using the remains of the Death Star on Kef Bir was super cool imagery, but didn’t we already literally see the Death Star completely disintegrated? Na, it’s ok, a huge chunk of the important bit just happened to land here fully intact for our heroes to find. There are many more callbacks in this movie, but almost every one of them, I’m left asking myself: “Why?” “Why did this callback have to be here?” “Could something else achieve the same effect?” Why did Maz give Chewie a Battle of Yavin medal? Why did we go back to Tatooine at the end? More often than not, none of those callbacks had to be there other than to try and excite fans, except doing so in the laziest manner by ultimately pandering. Callbacks are not a bad thing, mind you. Star Wars has been secretly calling back and seeding things in the background for ages, hinting and suggesting to us the vastness of this galaxy in terms of creatures and places. A recent example that comes to mind is Avengers: Endgame, and how it uses callbacks masterfully, calling back not just items and places, but character and relationships. It all works there because everything serves its purpose to drive that story forward in a manner that doesn’t feel cheap but feels necessary and important and something that wouldn’t work otherwise. This movie tried to be like Endgame in that regard but just failed to capitalize effectively on nostalgia and characters in the same way in way to emotionally resonate, but rather elicit a cheap, ephemeral reaction. This was a movie that lived from moment to moment of attempting excitement, but ultimately never establishes a through line for me to care about it as a cohesive piece of a nine-chapter story.

(For the record, I am writing the rest of what is below in April, like those other parenthetical notes above.)

Beyond just my frustration with callbacks, I ultimately ask myself, “What is the drive of this trilogy? What was it trying to accomplish?” The whole premise of this movie is Palpatine is back and they need to stop him from taking over the galaxy. I’m definitely beating a dead horse, but how does that adequately connect to the goals of Snoke/Kylo from the last two movies? How do our character’s stories culminate and end in this movie, in the context of the prior two films? I’ve already talked a bit about Rey’s story making little sense, but my god did they squander Finn’s character. If you look at the “new” characters from this trilogy, Poe was our Han Solo-eque type, Rey obviously our Luke type, but Finn was someone totally new. The idea of a disillusioned Stormtrooper seemed inspired, a totally different perspective in these Star Wars, a regular grunt who didn’t like the side they were fighting on in this war. For all my love of Episode VIII, that movie did not do much for Finn’s story. In the three years since VIII released, I have increasingly appreciated Finn’s journey in VIII, starting as someone who only cared about himself and Rey, to caring about the overall cause of the resistance. It was intriguing, albeit not executed in the best manner. But I think back to IX and struggle to see what the whole point of his arc was. He was a key fighter, who becomes a leader, and finds a whole group of defected Stormtroopers, but we never explore it. And all the while, he has this “burning secret” he needs to tell Rey and never does, which we find out from press junkets is that he’s supposedly force sensitive. It’s just an absolute mess. Even Poe’s arc seems to revert this movie in some regards, where VIII was all about him learning to not be so trigger-happy and actually thinking through things like a leader, IX is the same story beat about him becoming a leader in the eventual shadow of Leia. The only character who’s arc makes some sense (apart from the nonsensical Reylo kiss), was Kylo Ren, because he seems like the only character JJ Abrams and Rian Johnson somewhat agreed on. It’s why undoubtedly the best scene in this movie was his vision of Han Solo, as a revisit of the original confrontation on Starkiller base where Han died. Even then though, look deeper and you realize Kylo’s arc is also filled with contradictions.

Perhaps my view is a bit too colored by my view of Episode VIII, but in terms of following the narrative, Kylo was someone who was tired of being beholden to the past and killed Snoke in part as a refutation of the traditional power structure that had held the galaxy. At the end of VIII, he literally tells Luke “I’ll destroy her, and you, and all of it”, being Rey, Luke and all the remnants of this old way of life. Again, whether or not you like that story in VIII, as a storyteller, J.J.’s and Chris Terrio’s jobs were to continue the story in a manner such that there was consistency to the through lines. On the face of it, Kylo’s actions make some sense, again because I think there was some general agreement on him. Think deeper and you realize this is someone who refuted his past, his “destiny” and decided to choose his own path, only to inexplicably come back to his past again. If he wanted to come back to his past, that should have been seeded in VIII, where the conflict still existed. Rey felt this conflict and that’s why she went to try and redeem Kylo. But, once she is with him in the throne room, Snoke articulates how he now senses Kylo’s resolve where there was once conflict. Kylo made his choice, and we bring back up again the idea that he’s conflicted simply because Disney wanted Kylo to be redeemed. It’s lazy and its narrative cheating.

I will say, I know some Episode VIII supporters were unhappy with Luke’s portrayal in this movie and were quick to jump and say how J.J. “undid” Rian’s take on Luke. Luke is actually someone else who’s character stays consistent with his arc from VIII to IX, where he learns to believe in the Force and the light side again and learns to accept his role as a Jedi. Looking beyond characters though, the trilogy set up various story points which we were hoping to get some kind of payoff for. Much like the movie, I’m not really going to delve into them too much other than just list them. Who are the Knights of Ren (idk, but they all died at the hand of their supposed leader)? Who was Snoke (just a test tube deformed clone I guess)? How did Maz get Luke’s lightsaber (“a good story for another time” 😒)? How did Snoke seduce Kylo and undo the work of the prequels and original trilogy (eh, look for it in a comic I guess)? How did the First Order come about and rise to power (¯\_(ツ)_/¯)? What did the galaxy look like once the rebels won and could bring democracy back to the galaxy (watch The Mandalorian, only on Disney+)? The only real question this movie was interested in answering for the trilogy was Rey’s identity, and really that’s it. And even then, we kind of already got an answer about that from the past two movies: Rey was “nobody”.

Listen, a movie can suck in terms of connecting to prior movies, connecting to a full nine movie story, but hey if it’s a good adventure of its own then maybe there’s something redeemable about it. Unfortunately, this movie fundamentally fails to even service its own story properly. Any movie, no matter how good, needs to be self-contained and its own story in order to be effective. A storyteller cannot rely on a moviegoer to have seen eight other movies, read comics, books, etc. to know what’s going on. For all the praise I’ll give Avengers: Infinity War and Endgame, my one strike against them is that the emotional resonance and impact of these movies only hits fully when you’ve followed all prior 21-22 movies, like me. It relies heavily on intertextuality of prior movies, though not like Episode IX as a cheat to explain things. And even if you haven’t watched every movie, you can make some sense of what’s going on and get some of the impact, it just won’t hit the same way. It’s near impossible to balance that inclusivity with referential storytelling, but Avengers just about gets away with it because each story still does work on its own. While the Avengers movies are enhanced with more background knowledge, they did still give you every relevant piece of information you needed to follow the story. Episode IX on the other hand, uses narrative cheats to hope you’ll buy into their story and go with it. Obviously, the big one cheat here is not explaining Palpatine’s return. Again, a villain who was thought to be dead and is crucial to the overall story should have his return be properly explained. They did it in Kingsman with Harry’s character, they did it in Avengers: Endgame with Gamora and Thanos, they even do it with Superman in the dumpster fire that is Justice League. When you leave something like that unresolved, it just leaves a giant asterisk above the whole movie, leaving you questioning the nature of it all, asking why it’s even happening, rather than being able to go on the ride. You know, even if the movie told us that “technology and the occult” story beat, or even showed it to us as a prologue to the movie, I would have been able to buy into this premise of this movie more and not just be left asking why or how the whole time. Again, I recognize that those questions may be more personal and not apply to everyone, but I think the criticism of a movie being its own story and explaining itself still holds. Beyond that, the movie just never has any time to breathe and appreciate its own emotions. With a majority of a movie seeming like a video game fetch-quest (that is just getting one item to get another item, repeatedly), the characters aren’t given the room to grow and are simply at the mercy of the next macguffin to find.

One of the fundamental ideas of storytelling is the idea of a passive protagonist versus an active protagonist. The latter is a character that drives the nature of the story through their actions, whereas the former is driven by the flow of the story. Neither is necessarily better than the other and can be employed to excellent effect in both regards. Perhaps one of the best examples of passive protagonist is Jeff “The Dude” Lebowski in The Big Lebowski, a guy who just has consistently poor luck surrounded by moronic friends and people trying to take advantage of him, and really speaks to the kind of character The Dude really is. In an action or drama movie or a movie with a strong lead character, you generally want a balance of plot happening with the lead character forced to make consequential choices that add tension and weight to the story. Star Wars is a franchise driven by strong characters with their backs consistently against the wall and forced to make tough choices. It’s what drives the tension as Han Solo tries to escape Vader’s Star Destroyer by going through the asteroid field in Episode V, or compels Luke to leave with Ben Kenobi to go to Alderaan in Episode IV, or how makes Rey decide to leave her training with Luke to try and save Kylo in Episode VIII. This element of choice in a movie also works crucially to tell us about a character and their motivations. Han chooses to go through the asteroid field, an almost suicidal endeavor (the odds being 3,720 to 1), telling us how this is a man acting with a mix of desperation and bravado, perhaps overconfident in his abilities while also secretly trying to impress Princess Leia who he clearly likes. Rey goes back to Kylo out of a naïve sense of optimism and hope in other people and hasn’t had the experience Luke has, chiding his cynicism. This movie doesn’t give room for a character to decide much of anything. Rather there is a problem and somehow only one solution to the story. The whole goal of the characters this movie is seemingly to find this Sith wayfinder, to reach the Emperor and destroy his Final Order fleet. Conveniently, there happens to be one last clue of where to look, that leads to one thing, that takes them to a place, that leads to another place, where something just happens to work out and then the final battle takes place. If you’ve seen this movie, then you know I’ve just pretty much exactly described the order of events in this movie. There is no room for a character’s choice to dictate the flow of events here, there is no crossroads of destiny for someone to face. Ultimately, there is no tension and no stakes, because you’re left feeling like the heroes will just find the next clue to the next place or someone will tell them. It’s happened X number of times before, so why not have it happen again. It not only comes across as lazy but ends up hurting our characters’ progressions in the process.

I’ve also already talked about how the within-movie logic just seems to crumble on itself. This movie only seemed to be headed towards tackling the renunciation of bloodlines and the internal conflict between inherent nature and free will. Instead of seeing those story beats through, the story decides to instead shift away from that flow and gives us something we don’t expect but dripping with nostalgia. Obviously, the Rey story spring directly to mind, but even Kylo’s story does the same thing, like we talked about. So, I won’t go much further into all that again, but yeah. It’s pretty baffling how for me this movie just systematically failed on every level.

Wasted Potential

When I drafted out this review, I had put my main points for each of these three descriptors for this movie. I guess in the course of my weak-sauce furor and passion, I inadvertently covered most of my points on this part in prior parts. I was going to talk here about Finn’s story arc being totally wasted and also the whole idea of Rey being nobody, wasted. The former I think I spoke to a sufficient amount and the latter I’ve practically beaten to death by this point in this seemingly never-ending review. All I’ll say on these two matters is that there was the potential to tell a very unique story about finding your identity alone from two unique perspectives. For Finn, it was someone who thought he was alone, but finding that he was one of many and found validation and strength in others, where he initially was fearful of others except for Rey. And on the flip side, Rey’s story could have presented the idea of accepting who you are, even if you are a “nobody”, anyone can become someone. In this case, Rey could have become her own person, a new hero to which the galaxy looked up to or someone totally different.

Yeah, it’s really no wonder this is my longest post to date, but frankly I don’t imagine any of the five of you reading this are all too surprised. So, I’ll just touch a bit on the last point I wanted to talk about which had a lot of potential.

When George Lucas started this crazy Star Wars project back in the 70’s, he was a scrappy, young filmmaker really trying to push the boundaries and do something new with film on a shoestring budget. Doing something new was always at the forefront of George Lucas’s goal with every Star Wars film, through the prequels. I had mentioned back in the beginning of this mess how the prequels, for all the bold steps it tried to take, ended up making a lot of missteps as well. In a way, Lucas is in a similar position as Disney right now, begged by fans to make something new, and immediately angering fans with what they tried to do. Where I think Disney’s vision and Lucas’s vision differ is that one, Lucas had a clear vision and plan for his movies while Disney did not, but two, I think history will and already is looking back at Lucas’s films more favorably than we will on Disney’s trilogy. I think for all the missteps that the prequels made, a lot of the kids that grew up with those movies now champion it in the way Lucas intended them to. He was unapologetic in his approach to Star Wars being a space soap opera for children, teaching them good from evil through a basic hero’s journey. Disney for all its guts with the Marvel movies, trying new genres and championing new stories and heroes was playing it ridiculously safe with Star Wars. Very clearly, Disney’s goal was to make movies for fans and not necessarily children like Lucas did. So their primary focus to please fans was making movies that skewed perhaps a bit more mature, but “felt like Star Wars”. Once they re-established that “feel” with The Force Awakens and re-energized the fan base, they inarguably ended up losing a lot of that goodwill taking creative chances with Episode VIII. So rather than hold true to their Marvel formula of trusting the filmmaker and story, it seems that Disney caved and wanted to keep “pleasing fans” instead. A choice like that isn’t necessarily a wrong one, ultimately these movies are costly projects and they need to be made in a way that can generate the money back and actually make money. Where I think Disney was artistically and creatively bankrupt was relying on and weaponizing fan service and nostalgia to try and win back good will. And for what it’s worth, a lot of people did like Episode IX, because a lot of them said it “felt like Star Wars again.”

I mentioned that idea also in the beginning, “feeling like Star Wars”. To be honest, I thought I knew that feeling, but I honestly don’t know if I do anymore. In the past five years of Disney’s reign over this franchise, it seems to have evolved into something else entirely, something designed simply to please fans and focus on its past more than explore a lot of new ideas and themes. Arguably, Star Wars television has taken the biggest steps in that direction and that’s where my interest also seems to have shifted as well. And even then, our “new shows” are just fresh coats of paint on old ideas and concepts. The Mandalorian, for how much I loved the first season, is comprised of proxies of characters we as fans knew and associated with. Mando is the same as Boba Fett, IG-88 is the same as IG-11, we have the Empire (Werner Herzog and Giancarlo Esposito’s characters), and we have a force user in Baby Yoda. Even the return of Clone Wars these past weeks (which I am not complaining about), seems more of a reaction to give fans what they want rather than an idea borne out of creative inspiration or guts. And for however happy I am to see Clone Wars back and see its actual finale, I think a lot of fans and I had made peace with the way it ended with season 6, unresolved though it may have been. It’s not necessarily something new but revisiting something we know. The sequels were just a roundabout way to revisit the characters we knew and loved, just older. Rogue One was arguably a new angle on a story we already knew from the opening crawl of Episode IV. Solo was a backstory really no one wanted on a character we already understood fairly well. Maybe that’s what Star Wars has just become now. That “feeling” may now just be that simply be the sense Disney tries to evoke by drawing on nostalgia and old themes and ideas and characters and bits and bobs, and that’s really saddening to me.

Lucas’s idea was always to tell a new story, something different and unexplored. He follows the philosophy that Nintendo does when making a new game in a series like Mario or Zelda, or Pixar when making a new film: if there isn’t something new (a game mechanic, a story idea, a new film-making technique), then what’s the point in making it. George was obviously interested in telling his story, but in a way that pushed the limit of what was possible and sparking a sense of amusement and awe in what we watch. By this point, audiences have become accustomed to the level of photorealistic computer graphics employed in major blockbuster movies. It’s not hard to imagine anymore and is generally easy to discern. Lucas was interested in doing something no one else could do or conceive of, and in turn audiences wouldn’t be able to believe was possible. It’s why he founded Industrial Light and Magic, the premiere VFX company in the world today, to realize his lofty goals of space wizards and impossible spaceships and laser swords. It’s why he made Skywalker Sound, the masters of sound mixing and editing, to construct this sonic tapestry to define this universe. It’s why he helped spin-off Pixar in the 90’s with Steve Jobs, albeit not related to Star Wars but still exemplifying Lucas’s ultimate drive for doing new things. That Star Wars feeling isn’t just sense of excitement from the clashing of a lightsaber or the recurrence of a familiar face, but the investment in a character’s backstory, the sense of wonderment of seeing something pure and unadulterated from someone’s wildest imagination. It’s the music, it’s the atmosphere and background characters. It’s why a lot of fans were averse to some of the choices Lucas made in the prequels, doing away with a lot of the practical sets that were common in the original trilogy. In Lucas trying to realize his vision for this bustling galaxy and universe with increasingly complex elements and ideas, it ultimately became easier to just add it in post than build it, but in turn sacrificed the grittiness and rough-worn down of the galaxy we were exploring.

Before I’m accused of being a prequel shill, I will simply say that I don’t love all the prequels. I think Episode I is charming, II and III are messes for sure. But I think in all of the failures of execution, Lucas really did try to do something original and new with this story. You can fault a story for maybe not resonating or working, yes, but for trying, no. These were movies that were not trying to be “Star Wars”, but something new that was in that same universe, and I think fans rebelled because of that. It was something new that challenged us to look at this galaxy differently at a different time and didn’t match that same mold we were accustomed to from 1983 to 1999. I think A lot can be forgiven for Episode VII especially in how it was trying to get us back to that feeling that a lot of fans were missing. Also, it’s a very unique position it was in, as the characters in that story were a lot like us, subject to the tale and legend of the “Star Wars”, with the hero Luke Skywalker and the Rebellion and whatnot. They were reverential to the past, because it was a movie that drawing in it to set up the future. Episode VIII took that and tried to set the stage for something totally new, and question what actually was and wasn’t important in this myth we thought we know. Episode IX instead then decides to revoke the thrust towards the future and decides to focus on the past to a far greater degree. But rather than show it the reverence it received from Episode VII, its ultimately stuck pandering to it, rather than adding to the conversation. It was a move very clearly to recapture the enjoyment the audiences found in VII, by trying to appease angry fans clinging to the past. Ultimately, this movie ends up appeasing so few because it is more focused on trying to win back the goodwill it lost from Episode VIII than focusing on its own story, and just ends up as a mess as a result.

It hurts to feel this way about Star Wars. This is the first mainline Star Wars movie I haven’t wanted to rewatch. It makes me feel upset and even angry at times. It took me so long to write this because I’d just get so bummed every time I’d start writing and thinking about this movie and just lose all energy to keep going till some time later. It’s a movie that has made me re-evaluate my relationship with this franchise and question whether I was even right to enjoy the last two movies, VII and VIII, since they’re all meant to be the same story. I think I just have to accept that this new Star Wars is not all made for people like me anymore. I think like a trip to the restaurant or a buffet, I’ll just pick and choose the bits I engage with now. I am quite happy with Star Wars on television right now, but I just hope at some point, somehow, the movies will connect with me again. I just hope the movies can connect with all the fans again eventually, remind us of that magic that defined each generation while not being beholden to the past. I hope it continues to fascinate and indulge our sense of childlike wonderment, building lightsabers, theorizing the physics of star ships, acting like we’re force choking our friends or able to grab the remote with the force across the living room. The Star Wars experience isn’t a solitary one, but rather one best shared with friends and loved ones. It has the power to bring together a disparate group of friends from across the country to one theater for two+ hours to eventually praise and/or criticize it. I just hope Star Wars can warrant such a jubilant reunion again, not relegating such occurrences to a long time ago, or far, far apart.

Also, Ben Shapiro liked this movie so I think that just validates why this movie is total garbage. Maybe that could have been my whole argument. Eh, four months too late I guess…

tl;dr – If into the recordings you go, only pain you will find.

P.S. If you made it to the end of this review, congrats. Perhaps you are nearly as crazy as I am, though honestly probably not. Nevertheless, I appreciate you sticking around to read through this all.

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notoriousgrd · 7 years ago

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Shocktober Days 1-28

Ok, it’s Sunday and I’m not at the folks’ as usual because my brother’s working today, so taking the time to update my Shocktober log post. This is a long one so fasten your seatbelts,

The Devil Rides Out (1968) - been meaning to watch this for over twenty years, finally did and loved it. Christopher Lee and Charles Gray are excellent and I can see how the whole chalk circle bit influenced me at of Doctor Who:Battlefield.

Hotel Transylvania (2012) - I’d planned on another movie but with real world being so horrific that day, changed plans and watched this really fun animated movie.

Dr. Terror’s House Of Horrors (1965) - not the first portmanteau movie I ever saw (that’d be Twilight Zone:The Movie) but the first Amicus one and definitely my favourite. Cushing and Lee, DJ Alan “Fluff” Freeman Vs plants, Roy Castle and his voodoo trumpet, Michael Gough and Donald Sutherland as a doctor. Cushing and Castleford reunite later that year for a certain movie involving Daleks.

Quatermass And The Pit (1967) - last Quatermass I saw, having seen all the television versions and other movies over the years. Much like the Doctor Who/Daleks movies nicely compresses three hours of black and white telly into an hour-and-a-half of glorious colour. I hadn’t seen this when I saw Doctor Who:The Daemons so the parallels were not apparent to me. Andrew Kier is an excellent Quatermass, just behind John Mills in the 1979 telly story.

Christine (1983) - I hadn’t seen this in a long, long time, enough that I completely forgot Harry Dean Stanton and Robert Prosky were in it. Been even longer since I read the book, so can’t say if it’s a good adaptation, certainly a good movie though, the non-cgi car repairing effects still look awesome.

Deep Red / Profondo Rosso (1975) - the only Dario Argento movie I’ve seen and decided to rewatch after Mr Ash mentioned it. Looks lovely, an awesome soundtrack,

Deep Star Six (1989) - One of a few horror films rushed ahead to try and cash in on all the hype for James Cameron’s The Abyss. This one sees many of the people behind Friday The 13th doing an underwater m onter movie. It’s daft fun, I like the monster and it’s got one of my favourite actors, Miguel Ferrer in it.

Ghosts Of Mars.(2001) - One of the three John Carpenter movies I’d not seen, seems to get a lot of stick, but again, a fun action horror movie, with a really good cast (Natasha Henstridge, Pam Grier and Jason Statham) and a nice way of telling the story.

AvP:Requiem (2007) - we were kind of on a trash train for a bit, as this is another movie decried as the worst thing ever when it’s a perferctly competent horror movie with some really nice deaths and a nice basic concept. Take eighties slasher movie environment, add alien death machines.

Life (2017) = This was really, really good. a relatively realistic sci-fi horror that starts off a bit Andromeda Strain but end up Alien. Another great cast, and kudos for a certain point for having a disabled character who’s treated the same as any other crew member right until the moment they fall into the tired trap of his disability leading to his death. Other than that though, really enjoyed this, some really nasty deaths and nothing really set off my “SPace doesn’t work like that!” sense.

Leviathan (1989) = The other movie trying to cash in on The Abyss hype. Another good, fun underwater monster movie with a great cast (Peter Weller, Amanda Pays, Daniel Stern, Richard Crenna, Ernie Husson, Meg Foster), a great Jerry Goldsmith soundtrack and some nice effects work.

The Rezort (2016) - recommended to me by Mr Ash of the Hammered Horror podcast, low budget zombie movie with a great premise, that being that they got the zombie plague under control and have actually set up an island where people can pay to go and shoot zombies on a kind of undead safari. This is also used to try to help people who were traumatised by the zombie event. Of course, this being a horror movie, things rapidly go sideways. Barring a couple of moments, the small budget doesn’t show and the premise is a nice change from most zombie movies.

Waxwork (1988) - I’d seen the sequel to this years ago, when in 1994, my then local Blockbuster was having a massive sell-off of ex-rental tapes wuth no covers for a couple of quid each. Me and my flatmate at the time bought a pile of them, probably fifty tapes between us and this was one of them, a very silly hoor movie with a premise that lets them do little horror vignettes as part of a bigger story. This does that too, it’s another fun romp, with some lovely distinguisdhed actors (David warner, Patrick Macnee and John Rhys Davis) havnig fun with the material.

Friday The 13th Part IX:Jason Goes To Hell (1993) - I’d made my way through the first eight movies a while back, but as always got distracted and forgot to go back and finish off. So with it actually being Friday The 13th, I decided that day to fix that. This is…not great. Jason is killed and becomes a body surfing demon. Really only notable things are Kane Hodder;s wee cameo as an FBI agent, the Book Of The Dead form Evil Dead being being found in the Vorhees house (and thus being what brough Jason back from the dead at some point) and Erin Grey.

Friday The 13th Part X:Jason X (2001) = This one however, is a huge amount of fun, Jason is captured and the plan is to put him in cryogenic status to stop him from killing again as it’s obvious at this point, he can’t actuaslly be killed. Of course, things go sideways and him and the doctor responsible for freezing him are found hundreds of years later when Earth’s a wastland and taken back to a spaceship. Yes, this is Jason Goes To Space and takes a lot of cues form other sci-fi things, space marines, holodecks, evil corporations etc and uses them to make a fun action horror romp that never takes itself too seriously.

Mr Vampire (1985) - One of my all time favourites. Saw it in the mid-nineties when Channel 4 had a seasib if Hong Kong action movies, many with a spooky side to them. This movie introduced me to the Jiangshi, Chinese hopping vampires and this movie is a fun, action comedy with plenty f great action scenes, slapstick and scares.

The Bird With The Crystal Plumage (1970) - As mentioned above, I’d only ever sene the one Dario Argento movie, so decided to fix that. His directorial debut is a mirder thriller where the main character witnesses an attempted murder and soon finds himself in danger with plenty of twists and turns along the way. Great stuff.

Until Dawn (2015) - this is a game for PS4 rather than a movie and with the length it could easily count as between four to six horror movies. It’s an interactive adventure game with excellent motion captured performances, a great plot, great setpieces and with the choices you can make, anywhere between everyone and no-one can survive. I made it out with only two deaths and I know how those can be avoided. One of the best horror games I’ve ever played and highly recommended. Virtual Peter Stormare in particular veeres into the uncanny valley on several occasions. Great stuff.

The Raven (1935) - on the title cazrd it says “suggested by” Poe’s poem, but all that amounts ot is the name and a character who’s a bit Poe obsessed with nods to a couple of his other works in there. Has Lugosi and Karloff, is okay as these things go.

The Car (1978) - was surprised to find most review sites think this is a load of bollocks. I enjoyed it as a kid and still enjoy it now. It’s basically Jaws with a car that appears to be possessed by the devil. Been so long since I saw it, forgot James Brolin and Ronny Cox were in it. there’s some nice direction at points and it’s definitely not as bad as its reputation would have you think.

The Raven (1963) - Another part of my plan is to watch the ROger Corman Poe adaptations, I picked this first because it has the trio of Vincent Price, Peter Lorre and boris Karloff in it and the last movie I watched with them all was Comedy Of terrors which was a blast. I could happily watch Price and Lorre mucking about for hours, the first half-hour is mostly the two of them sparking off each other. It’s a tale of warring wizards, everyone looks like they’re having so much fun and I had a grin on my face throughout. Lovely and highly recommended. Also has a young Jack Nicholson in it.

The Fall Of The House Of Usher (1960) - Corman, Price and Poe again, a far more sombre affair but again really good. Vincent Price is one of those actors I can watch in anything.

Suspiria (1977) - Back to Argento with weird goings on in a prestigious ballet school. The plot is not really important, you watch Argento mivues for the visuals and amazing soundtracks. Really enjoyed it.

Phenomena (1985) - Argento once more, with Donald Pleasance (with a lovely Scottish accent), JJennifer Conolly in her movie debut and a chimp with a razor. The usual sumptuous visuals, great soundtrack (with Iron Maiden and Motorhead showing up at points) and the usual twisted plot. Had one of those rare monets I really go “Ooooh!” and curl up a bit when someone gets stabbed in the hand with scissors.

The World’s End (2013) - probabl;y the worst of the Cornetto Trilogy (Shaun Of THe Dead and Hot Fuzz being thew others) but still a brilliant movie. It starts off as a middle aged man trying to recapture his youth by getting his childhood friends to finish a pub crawl they never managed as teens, then turns into Incasion Of The Body Snatchers/ Great all-star cast and two of my favourite fight scenes in horror movies, the one in the gents toilets because of the wrestling moves and thew one in the pub a combination of Nick Frost (I love big lads kicking arse) and the remix of Silver Bullet’s Twenty Seconds To Comply backing it.

Attack The Block (2011) - I had difficulty with this first itme I watched it, I live on a council estate and the main characters weere a bit too true to life for me to begin with. This time though, no problem. Premise is a load of big gorilla wolf motherfuckers crash land in a council estate in London and a bunch of ASBO kids and a nurse take them on. It’s notable for having John Boyega and Jodie Whittaker who would both go onto much bigger sci-fi things with Star Wars and Doctor Who. It looks great, sounds great, the creature design is unique and this time round I spotted little references like the tower block being Wyndham Towers and it being near a Ballard Street.

#halloween #shocktober #horror #movies

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mintchocolateleaves · 7 years ago

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Cost of Freedom (30/52)

Summary: In which everyone prepares for the heist. Prison!AU

[CoF full chapter list]

The heist notices burns a hole through Aoko’s pocket. Or rather, it scalds her skin, through the fabric of her clothes, leaving her with second degree burns.

She’s not sure whether it’s because she’s just finished looking around the murder scene that’s partially blaming Kaito – Kaito who she’d been with the moment the murder had even happened – or because she needs to figure out a way to give the heist notice away without giving away any clues to any of the detectives she’s seen.

The burn, is guilt, as Aoko realises she’s going to have to lie.

And the longer she leaves the heist notice in her pocket, waiting for the ‘right’ time to give it to the police, the hotter it burns. Beside her, Hattori doesn’t seem to notice anything, closing his eyes as he tries to piece everything together.

She’d been nervous when he’d started taking pictures on his phone, but it had make her think. There is something to Hattori that she can’t quite place, and she’s suspicious, like she’s been suspicious since he’d first shown up. Why is would he need pictures from obscure angles, when they don’t show quite as much as the pictures forensics will print them later.

Aoko isn’t sure.

“Hattori-kun,” she mutters, grabbing his attention from the plug sockets he seems interested in. There’s some blood by the switch – a dying message? Or just coincidence? - “What were you studying when Hakuba-kun rang?”

Hattori glances at her, tilts his head. “About th’ murder?”

“No,” Aoko shakes her head, “what were you studying when he asked for Kudo’s files?”

For a moment, Hattori is quiet. He shrugs his shoulders and says, “radical equations, I think. Why?”

Aoko puts her hands in her pockets, feels the heist notice between her fingers. It’s a little thicker than card, but smoother and she almost feels her pulse in her ears, knowing she has something the police force are bound to be searching for.

She brushes her finger across the notice again, before shaking her head, standing up.

“I was just wondering, is all.” She stands up, pulls her hands from her pockets and turns away. “I was thinking that I shouldn’t be here, I’m not the detective, I should be at home finishing my homework.”

Hattori’s tone sounds almost as guilty as Aoko feels. He says, “if ya go home now, you’ll be turning yer back on ‘em.”

Aoko bites her lip, steels her voice and says, “I’m in this to catch them, Hattori-kun, not to prove their innocence.”

She moves before he can grab hold of her wrist, moving towards the doorway. As she rushes down the stairs, under police tape and out into the streets of Shibuya, she heaves out a sigh.

Hattori Heiji, she thinks, is a terrible liar. He’s convincing, yes, but without a fully formed cover story, he’s practically an amateur. Kaito would be better – Kaito is better. KID weaves cover stories until he has a brand new personality, and maybe Aoko had been angry about it, but it had also been admirable.

Kaito would have remembered that he’d told someone he was solving a case when he’d answered the phone – he would not have been so easily fooled into changing the cover story.

At least Aoko can help. If she leaves now, she’ll be able to get the heist notice to the station – for Kaito’s sake – and it’ll leave Hattori with a window of opportunity to take whatever his pictures are for, to… To Kudo-kun right?

That must be it. The reason Hattori had shown early this morning, helping the criminals break in, the reason he’d not known his own cover story.

Hattori Heiji is their accomplice.

Aoko glances back at police cars, lifts her fingers to her lips. They come away bloody, having punctured her teeth into the skin. If Hattori is the accomplice, then the murder – the idea that a third man grabbed the murder victim – falls flat. With all three of them in Tokyo, there had been no one to…

She bites her lip, makes her way towards the station.

For now, Aoko decides to believe in Kaito, in Kudo’s innocence – she’ll find a way to keep people from figuring Hattori out. And to keep them from looking too deeply into Hattori… she’ll have to direct their attention.

Aoko needs to send in the heist notice.

And she needs to do it convincingly.

“We need to go to the museum,” Ran pulls away from the window, eyes clouded with something – Saguru isn’t certain whether it’s determination, or reservation – before crossing her arms. “If we want to talk to KID and Shinichi, then our best shot is that heist. And we need to figure out KID’s planned routes in and out.”

Saguru agrees.

He doesn’t know much about the museums in Ueno, but he does know the museum Kuroba has hinted at. Just as much as he knows the gemstone – Kuroba has started with the very heist location that had got him caught in the first place.

The Cullinan diamond. Kuroba had failed on his first attempt to receive the gem. One of the taskforce had torn the hang glider he’d used for some escapes, making it impossible for him to use his most efficient exits. With the handicap, Kuroba had been forced to the lower floors, where he’d attempted to climb from the first floor down to the road below.

Saguru isn’t completely sure what had happened during those minutes. He’d been inspecting one of the vents, wondering whether KID had used it to get to the upper floors undetected, when all units had been notified of KID’s capture.

We’re unmasking him now, Nakamori had said, while Saguru had pushed through the crowd of police officers, towards the centre of the ring. And off with the disguise.

He’d discarded the top hat and the monocle until all that was left was Kuroba Kaito sat with his arms shackled, squirming in an attempt to get away before the task force checked to see if this was his true face. Saguru had stopped breathless, staring across the crowd at Aoko as she’d stared, wincing as he’d realised that soon she’d know the truth.

Now off with this mask, Nakamori had pulled at his cheeks, pulled until he was certain it was skin and not glue, until he was certain his mind had not been playing tricks on him. Kaito…?

And KID – Kuroba Kaito – had simply smiled. Not angrily, or sadly – Saguru can only recall the smile being amused. His eyes had been alight, wild in a way Saguru had never even seen as he’d laughed, ‘you all made it so easy.’

Back then, Saguru hadn’t know why he’d done it. Why he’d aggravated the Nakamori’s, when all he’d gotten out of it was tightened handcuffs that had dug into his wrists. It had taken a while to realise the smile had been Kuroba’s version of control, his words designed to keep the Nakamori’s angry rather than sad.

“I’ve got the plans to the museum from the last heist,” Saguru says after a moment, biting the inside of his cheek. He’d kept them, although frankly, Saguru isn’t sure why he hadn’t thrown them away after the capture, maybe he’d felt bad that he hadn’t actually been the one to apply the handcuffs… maybe he just wanted to remember, “I’ll ask Baaya to bring them.”

Ran nods, rubs at her ear as she tries to think. Then, her eyes widen, confusion swimming through periwinkle irises. She says, “KID never steals from the same place twice.”

“You’re right,” Saguru nods, plucks his phone from his pocket. “He’s picking up where he left off.”

The arrival of a fourth person to the safe house seems to leave Kuroba reeling.

Heiji watches as the other boy frowns, practically glaring at the toolbox he’s brought with him, unscrewing some sort of capsule.

It’s difficult to see what it is, but Heiji supposes it’s going to be filled with some sort of gas. Sleeping gas is the most obvious choice, based on previous heists, when he’d taken to sneaking behind police officers, forcing them into unconsciousness before stealing their identities.

“Yer still gonna do a heist despite th’ murder,” Heiji tries not to let the disapproval sink into his voice, but it does, festering with the sickness that keeps settling in his throat every time he thinks about the murder scene. “Even though someone died.”

Kuroba shrugs, glances away from the gas capsules. His expression morphs from annoyed to blank as he says, “people die every day. Should I stop my heists for them too?”

“Yer a murder suspect!” Heiji digs fingernails into his palms, closes the door behind him.

“Yes, and the heist is the explanation for why we set foot inside the station. To avoid catching the attention of the people who’ve made Shinichi and I into suspects.” Kuroba turns back to his tools, placing the capsules down. He picks up his monocle – something Heiji remembers being rumoured to offer night vision to the thief.

“It’s dangerous…” Kudo mutters, and Heiji nods his approval. “…But… It’s not like we can stop you.”

Well, Heiji thinks, they could. Just not in a way that would leave them all outside of a prison cell. Instead he watches Kuroba’s expression flicker. One second, there is amusement sparking in his eyes, the next, Heiji can only read seriousness.

“Don’t worry,” Kuroba says, and Kazuha looks up now, lips pressed together. She’d been texting on her phone, but now she places it down, offering them all a stern expression – Heiji’s pretty sure she’s thinking the same as him – a heist is too much of a risk.

Not that Kuroba would listen to either of them, he’s only known Kazuha a day, and Heiji for three. He sighs.

“I’m not going to get caught,” Kuroba promises. “And you guys are going to stay back here, so it’s not like you’re at risk, you know?”

“They’ve got just as much time t’ prepare as you,” Kazuha says. She lifts the papers she’s been looking at up into a pile, straightening them out. Since Heiji has stepped inside the room, she hasn’t so much as sent a look his way. “and they’re gonna treat ya as a murderer, meaning you’ll be at a big risk.”

Heiji’s been thinking about it too – how the danger doesn’t only mean recapture, but that there’s also a risk of being shot. Before, KID wasn’t seen as a high risk, but working together with a so-called serial killer only makes him a huge risk to civilians.

And Heiji knows what the police are willing to do to keep the general public safe.

“They’ve got a day to prepare.” Kuroba says after a while, crosses his arms. “I’ve had months.”

“What do you mean you’re closing the heist to the public?”

Ran is trying to be calm, she really is, but the moment the announcement pops up on her phone – KID heist announced for tomorrow, police blocking roads around – she feels vision glowing red, voice boarding from annoyed to outright outraged.

“It’s too dangerous,” Inspector Nakamori says, rubbing the back of his neck. He looks slightly sick at the thought of a KID heist being dangerous, at the idea of the boy he’d practically helped to raise being dangerous. “No civilians, and that involves you kids.”

“Inspector,” Saguru says from beside her, “with all due respect, that’s insane. KID’s a thief, but the only person he poses a risk to during this heist, is himself.”

Nakamori grabs a mint from his desk, fiddles with the edges of the wrapper. He doesn’t look at them when he speaks – maybe the thought of KID being dangerous, hurts to imagine as much as imagining Shinichi to be a murderer does. “You went to the crime scene.”

Ran’s voice dies in her throat. They have theories about that, but nothing concrete, and she doesn’t want to offer any answers before she knows for certain that they’re true. That’s why they need to go to the heist.

“We did.” Saguru answers for the both of them. He rests a hand on Ran’s elbow, offers some stability as she the taste of blood catches in her throat.

She doesn’t fall.

“I don’t want to believe that Kai- that KID did that,” Nakamori says, “but until we get evidence against it, we’ve got to proceed along the lines that KID is dangerous. And with the added risk that Kudo might show as well-”

“You don’t want to risk any hostages.” Saguru mutters.

“Exactly.”

Ran feels herself still – Shinichi, at the heist? He’d be smart enough not to attend. He’s not like KID, he won’t be able to get in and out as easily. And maybe KID is used to immediate captures, is used to reacting immediately with smart plans, but in Ran’s experience, Shinichi needs time to plan everything over.

She don’t want him to attend. But… But it does give her an idea.

“Make an exception.” She says. Nakamori frowns, but she pushes onwards anyway, “make an exception for Aoko-chan and I.”

The frown doesn’t cease – if anything, it deepens. Nakamori says, “absolutely not.”

Saguru, however, seems to catch on to her meanings. He nods, “it’s not a bad idea. The only visitor Kudo-kun sent for, was Ran-san. And Kuroba has always had a soft spot for Aoko-san.”

Nakamori pops the mint into his mouth, glances up at them both. He says, “If we can get the two of them to stand down, it’d be easier. You’d have to wear the same protective wear as the task force…”

Ran holds her breath as she realises that he means wearing a bullet proof vest – because if things go badly, KID and Shinichi will have targets on their backs. But ultimately, she understands.

She nods, “Okay.”

“They’ve closed the surrounding area down, how are we even going to get in?”

“Listen, if we can stay out of their grasp this long, we can avoid the police as well.”

“It’s too big a risk.”

“It’s a chance to live a normal life again. Just me and you.”

“…”

“I’m certain KID will know how to reach Kudo Shinichi,” a sound causes the two figures to turn, eyes wide as they ensure it’s nothing dangerous. “And when we find Kudo Shinichi, he can help.”

“He won’t trust us.”

“Leave the worrying to me, alright Shiho? I’m the big sister, after all.”

Daytime blends away into evening with orange and pinks as the sun sets.

After hours of trying to settle himself long enough to fall asleep, Kaito goes out onto the roof instead. He sits, looking out at the city. Every so often he think he catches sight of stars shooting across the sky, but they disappear from his vision before he can appreciate them for what they are.

The moon, waning, offers a faint light – but Kaito doesn’t need it, not really. Despite it being evening, Shinjuku is restless, awake and busy. People bustle between theatres, bars and every other establishment designed to dig into the pockets of workers after a long day in the office.

Kaito glances at the roads below. The masses crossing roads, finding their way down the subway to the metro lines. What do they think of KID’s return? People had loved him once, but then he’d been locked away – will they still applaud him even now that they know who he is?

“I was wondering where you were.”

Kaito doesn’t turn. Instead, he steps to the side, offers Shinichi some room to lean against the wall and breathe in the evening air. The other boy had been asleep when he’d come to the roof, exhaustion having dragged him into unconsciousness. Not that Kaito can blame him – Shinichi’s sleep pattern in prison had always been inconsistent, and even after the break out, he’d not slept as long as he could have.

“I should have written a note.”

“You left the door open slightly so you could get back in,” Shinichi says, “so in a way you did.”

Kaito hesitates, decides not to answer. Instead, he watches cars as they move through the streets, tries not to let the police lights burn against his vision. He fails anyway, reds and blues searing his retinas until he has to squeeze his eyes shut and remind himself that he will not be caught.

“I-” Shinichi trails off, “will you be okay tomorrow? With the heist?”

Kaito glances at him, offers a grin. “Quit worrying. We’ve got this far, so quit thinking everything’s going to go wrong.”

Shinichi breaks eye contact. His skin pales and suddenly, Kaito doesn’t know how to describe him. He doesn’t look like the self-assured detective he’d been before his imprisonment. He wears his expressions differently to the prisoner he’d been, back when he’d willingly fought to keep himself safe from other prisoners.

He doesn’t look like the person Kaito’s grown to know. Now, instead of looking confident in himself, or even certain they’ll succeed, he looks almost… scared.

“I should be happy, right?” Shinichi says, and if his voice cracks, neither of them point attention to it. “That things are working out for us. We’re free, we retrieved my case files…”

Kaito glances at him from the side of his eye. His fingers are white from where he’s holding them so tightly.

“I should feel something other than dread.” Shinichi continues, “but I can’t. There’s someone dead, and it’s because we left. Kaito… I don’t know if I can solve this.”

Shinichi shudders. He heaves in a sigh, a deep breath, and suddenly Kaito can see him as he is. Not as a brave detective or a cunning prisoner, but rather as a shattered reflection of Kaito himself, a piece of someone lost to time.

The realisation is jarring. It is an ache, a feeling that spreads through his body like ice, as he realises the depth of just how… hopeless the situation is. But still…

“You will.” Kaito says, voice quiet, yet steeled. Shinichi sends him a doubtful look, so Kaito repeats it. “You will. We’ll find a common link and we’ll track down that stupid organisation. We’ll find the organisation and we’ll tear it down – even if everyone think we’re the bad guys while we’re doing it. That’s what detective’s do, isn’t it? They solve things. You are a detective, right?”

Shinichi lets out a shallow breath, a shaky, almost choked sound. He wipes at his face with his sleeve, before turning, making his way towards the exit, back down to the safe house. He stops by the exit, turns back to face Kaito. Then; a nod, the smallest dip of his chin as he mutters, “yeah.”

He leaves Kaito to the city.

#As per usual please tell me what you all think!#I'm excited for this chapter even though one thing changed plot wise and so I've had to adjust certain points #Hopefully you enjoy it!!#DCMK #Fic: Cost of Freedom #Kudo Shinichi #Kuroba Kaito #Hattori Heiji #Nakamori Aoko #Toyama Kazuha #Hakuba Saguru #Mouri Ran #Nakamori Ginzo #Haibara Ai #Miyano Shiho #Miyano Akemi #mywriting

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myhahnestopinion · 8 years ago

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REVIEW: Pirates of the Caribbean - Dead Men Tell No Tales

Storytelling benefits from knowing which parts of a tale are necessary to tell. Any story could really go on indefinitely, elaborating on backstories and side characters or forcing new conflict on existing heroes until the end of time, if so desired. However, this is rarely a wise move, as any potential audience will soon grow tired of incessant additions that contribute little to, or perhaps detract from, the impact of the tale. As indicated by the title, which is said in a few variations over the course of the film, Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales, the fifth installment of the theme-park-ride-based franchise, is concerned with tale telling. The film’s adversary, Salazar, a ghostly Spanish Navy captain played by Javier Bardem, leaves one person alive each time he destroys a pirate ship, so that they can tell the tale of the attack to others. These tales are designed to induce promises of epic events, frightening danger, and a menacing foe awaiting out there on the open seas. The tale of the movie itself, however, delivers on very little of those things. Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales suggests that the franchise could very well tell tales indefinitely and still manage to squeeze out a few amusing and thrilling moments here and there, but overall would probably be better off just hanging up its tricorne hat and going home.

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales once again technically stars Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow, the now iconic eccentric pirate, but that credit is perhaps not entirely accurate. At this point in his career, Depp seems to have forgotten how to play characters entirely. Here, returning to the role that originated his streak of increasingly annoying oddball characters, Depp bumbles around his performance in sloppy fashion, characterized solely by quirks, feeling like the ill-behave kid who runs into the middle of a board game and kicks over all the pieces because he can’t handle not being the center of attention. Part of the strength of the first film was knowing how to sparingly apply Jack Sparrow as a humorous, endearing side character to spice up the main adventure, but the franchise’s downfall began when it hitched its ride to the wrong horse, especially as Depp continues to lose all his credibility. The franchise makers are, unfortunately, so tightly wrapped around Depp’s finger that even a flashback scene within Dead Men Tell No Tales uses CGI to digitally de-age the actor, showing that they would rather have an uncomfortably misshapened, pixalated Depp lead the franchise before they would ever pass the reigns on to someone else. While it is tempting to continue to hope that the loveable, well-developed Jack Sparrow from the first film will one day return, it is perhaps best to accept that the character has disappeared so far up within Depp’s unholy amalgamation of quirky nonsense and ego that he is never coming back.

Dead Men Tells No Tales, like On Stranger Tides, presents a streamlined adventure story about Jack Sparrow, accompanied by a young couple, attempting to outrace a supernatural force to find a mystical object, here the Trident of Poseidon, capable of breaking any curse at sea. There’s a certain charm to this approach, playing like a high seas version of Indiana Jones (though resembling Kingdom of the Crystal Skull more than any of the classics). However, it once again fails to reclaim the careful balance of the first film, and, coming from someone who highly enjoys the second and third installments, lacks the sense of scale that came from the gonzo mythologizing of those later installments.

Unlike On Stranger Tides, there is more of an attempt to connect this latest film to the story of the original trilogy. Brenton Thwaites plays Henry Turner, son of Orlando Bloom’s character from the original, who seeks the Trident to rid his father of the curse of Davy Jones. Bloom’s return to the franchise in a few brief scenes is fun, but mainly reminds the audience how much his presence added to the original three, making it all the more disappointing we end up stuck with Thwaites, who is as bland here as he was in last year’s Gods of Egypt. Thwaites is paired up with the other newcomer for this entry, Kaya Scodelario as Carina Smith, a young astrologer, but their romance lacks any semblance of the chemistry that Orlando Bloom and Kiera Knightley shared. The film plays with some feminist characterization for Scodelario’s Carina, but it doesn’t receive the same satisfying pay-off as Knightley’s arc in the original trilogy. The film also sees the return of Geoffrey Rush as Hector Barbossa, now the wealthy captain of an entire fleet of pirate ships, but the film continues the streak of completely reinventing Barbossa’s characterization each time in order to reel him back into another story, and Rush seems quite tired with the role.

As mentioned before, the latest adversary of the franchise is Javier Bardem’s undead Salazar. While his ghostly, submerged appearance, which recalls the young ghost from del Toro’s The Devil’s Backbone, is appropriately frightening, Bardem’s performance gets lost under the extensive CGI work, so there’s little notable about the villain outside of the way he rolls his “r”s when he calls Sparrow’s name. He’s highly forgettable, especially since he is essentially a less exciting combination of former villains Barbossa and Bill Nighy’s Davy Jones. It doesn’t help that his backstory and motivations feel as barebones as his ghostly skeleton ship, which stretches out like lanky fingers to grab and crush enemy ships in one of the film’s few fantastic elements.

For all the film’s faults though, there are moments like the awe-inspiring devouring of ships by Salazar’s ghostly vessel that do recapture the infectious appeal of the franchise. Other set pieces, like a bank robbery early on that is reminiscent of an 18th century version of Fast Five and a charmingly goofy guillotine escape, are delightful. While Geoff Zanelli’s score does little but reprise Hans Zimmer’s original themes, one can’t help but become transfixed with the spirit of adventure as the invigorating music swells. The de-aging CGI may be abhorrent, but there is a certain excitement to be found in learning about Jack Sparrow’s backstory. Almost every gag in the film gets stretch too long, but for brief moments, there’s chuckles to be had, such as one moment where Sparrow’s pirate crew becomes confused and intrigued by Carina’s assertion that she is a horologist, misunderstanding that she means she is a studier of time. While these great moments are few and far between, they almost feel like enough to justify making another film, even if the continuing diminishing returns suggest that it is probably best to stop here.

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales is by no means a good movie. Beyond Depp’s annoying antics, a forgettable villain, unfunny gags that run too long, and uninvolving new additions, the film has a jumbled structure and almost palpable lack of caring. However, I’ve spoken at length before about my addiction to franchises, and I must confess that while Dead Men Tell No Tales is not a good movie, I still enjoyed watching another Pirates adventure. There’s sporadic sparks of wonder and perhaps, like On Stranger Tides, I’ll become more favorable to it upon rewatch. The deciding factor on whether or not you should see this film is perhaps what your opinion is of the jarring, entirely disconnected extended cameo of Paul McCartney in this film. Some may view that scene as indulgent, incomprehensible, and a sure sign that the franchise has run out of ideas and purpose, and most likely, those people are right. Still, I can’t help but feel a certain sort of affection for a franchise goofy enough to just let Paul McCartney be a pirate for a day.

Pirates of The Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales, directed by Joachim Rønning and Espen Sandberg, is in theaters now.

#film #review #2017films #piratesofthecaribbean #deadmentellnotales #pirates #johnnydepp

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musetotheworld · 8 years ago

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A Moment for Herself

It’s not until her phone rings that Kara realizes she might have made a mistake letting Leslie go without a fight...

Spite is a powerful motivator, and that episode needed a lot more Cat to be fixed. Since we can't get it in the show, I bring you the fix it fic we all needed. I'm up three hours past my bedtime and taking a sick day so I can get some sleep, but this was worth it. Enjoy!

“Hello?” Kara answers her phone in confusion, not recognizing the number.

“Why the hell did I have to hear about Leslie from the evening edition?” Cat’s familiar tone rings in her ear, voice cold and sharp. “Really, Kara, you couldn’t spare a single call to let me know the woman who swore to kill me had escaped?”

“I’m so sorry Miss Grant, it slipped my mind,” Kara half lies, wincing as she remembers how unhinged she’d been when she’d heard Leslie had gotten loose. She hadn’t been able to think through the panic and sheer need to recapture the villain and keep Cat safe. She’d been so panicked that the little detail like ‘warn Cat’ had been overlooked.

After all, Cat is safely across the world in London, and Leslie has a big issue with water. It wasn’t impossible for her to cross the ocean, but it would take time, and Kara could track her down if she tried. There wasn’t reason to worry Cat over nothing, right?

Apparently Cat disagrees, because this is the angriest Kara has heard her since the incident with Adam, and the memory of that fallout already has her shrinking back even though Cat is too far to be of any threat. Not that she could hurt her anyway, though Kara wouldn’t put it past her with the right motivation.

“Slipped your mind? The woman threatened my life on multiple occasions and I slipped your mind? Glad to see my years of mentoring made an impact. I’d hate to think I was forgotten so easily.” Cat doesn’t seem to have accepted Kara’s apology, not that the hero can blame her. It’s a mistake that should never have been made, and Kara can already feel the guilt threatening to bury her.

“I’m so sorry, Miss Grant. I should have called you. I didn’t stop to think that you might want to know, I thought you were safely out of reach,” Kara admits, hoping her apology will be enough this time. If it’s not, she’ll find a way to make it up to Cat. She deserves that much after Kara’s mistake.

“I suppose I can forgive you, I can feel your puppy dog eyes from here. At least I know you’ll have caught her by now,” Cat says with a sigh, and Kara freezes. Not only at the casual confirmation that Cat knows her identity, but at the fact Cat doesn’t know the full story and Kara is afraid to tell her.

But after forgetting to call, not telling her would be an even greater betrayal. Not to mention that as Kara thinks back to the semi truce she has with Leslie for now, there’d been no mention of Cat and her safety. And even though Kara wants to believe that Leslie will know better than to try for Cat, she can’t guarantee that. Not when it could mean Cat’s safety.

“About that, Miss Grant,” Kara starts, nearly losing her nerve when the other woman goes silent and still on the other line. “We reached a sort of truce to defeat the mastermind behind this, but in order to stop her from killing him, I sort of, well, I sort of let her go…”

There’s dead silence from the other end of the phone for a good ten seconds, and as much as Kara strains her hearing she can’t hear even the sound of Cat breathing. Kara hadn’t heard a tap that usually accompanies someone muting the phone either, which means Cat is completely still right now. It sparks Kara’s guilt all over again, and suddenly she needs to see her, know she’s safe.

But after everything that’s happened, even before Livewire, Kara isn’t sure that’s her place. She wouldn’t blame Cat if the woman never wanted to see her again, and as much as that hurts, Kara would respect her wishes. She’s majorly screwed up this time and she deserves whatever censure Cat sends her way.

“You let her go. You let a murderous metahuman loose on the people of National City, the people of Earth. Kara, what the hell is going on with you right now? You haven’t been this foolish since you first started flying around in your color wheel fashion disaster.” Cat sounds disbelieving, but she also isn’t hanging up, so Kara will take the win for what it is.

“I couldn’t let her kill him,” Kara explains, knowing that she’d made the right choice there at least. Everything else might be a mess, but saving a life is never the wrong decision. “But you’re right, I didn’t think about what letting her go might mean.”

“You’d better hope she doesn’t show up in my hotel room tonight, or so help me Kara Danvers, I will find a way to make you pay.” Cat sounds completely serious, and Kara is already nodding before she remembers Cat can’t see her.

“I’ll have the agency I work with monitor all transcontinental flights for electrical irregularities,” Kara promises, wishing there were some way to go back and fix this.

“I don’t see what good that’s going to do you, I flew into Newark yesterday morning for a meeting with some UN dignitaries,” Cat says with a scoff, and Kara feels her blood run cold at the words.

“No, you were safe in London,” she manages to gasp out, feeling her earlier panic and worry come back full force.

“I was, but this meeting opportunity came up last week,” Cat says, worry starting to color her voice as she reacts to the fear in Kara’s. “Kara, don’t tell me you let her go without knowing where I was. Just because I won’t run doesn’t mean I particularly enjoy the thought of her coming after me again.”

“She won’t have a chance, I promise you that,” Kara says, fighting down her emotions and doing her best to sound determined. “I only told her I wouldn’t go after her immediately, I think I’ve honored the terms of that agreement. Now if you’ll excuse me Miss Grant, I need to see a friend about tracking her down.”

Kara doesn’t wait for a response before hanging up, even though she knows she’ll be hearing about that next time they talk. What’s important now is finding where Livewire has gone and getting her back into containment. Kara will work on getting her a nicer cell, but there’s no way she’s risking Cat’s safety over this. Leslie might still be in there somewhere, but right now Livewire is the one in control, and Kara can’t trust her.

“Winn, please tell me you can track Livewire,” Kara calls as she strides into the main control room, startling the agents standing around.

“If she’s using her powers I can,” Winn says, swinging around in his chair to study his monitor. “I thought we were giving her a little R&R from the whole prison thing though. You know, a chance to lie out in the sun, work on her tan.”

“That changed,” Kara says, fighting not to snap at him. She’s wound up about this whole mess, not to mention the Guardian fight, but that doesn’t mean her friend deserves to have her emotions taken out on him. Especially not when he’s helping.

“All right, well, then let me just keep scanning, and I’ll see what we can do,” Winn says, and even without Kara snapping he’s clearly picked up on her frame of mind.

“Let me know the second you find anything,” Kara says as she stares at the map, barely noticing when Alex comes up to stand next to her.

“I know that look. Something changed. So, spill,” Alex says, leaning over to bump Kara’s shoulder with her own. The comfort is welcome and grounding, but Kara is too focused to really sink into it just yet.

“I thought Cat was safe, but she’s back in the country,” Kara confesses, grateful when Alex doesn’t groan at the mention of Cat. They’ve had more than one conversation about the dangers of her hero crush, but Alex seems to understand that Kara can’t deal with another one right now. “I thought she was in London, I thought I’d be able to stop Livewire before she could get anywhere close to her. It’s not like she has many options for crossing the ocean, it would take her some time. I thought I’d have time.”

“Winn will find her, don’t worry,” Alex says calmly, and Kara tries to believe her. She knows Alex is trying to make her feel better, but she has to believe the words. She has to believe that she hasn’t screwed up and risked Cat’s life. “You know what, while he’s looking, you should go.”

“I’m not leaving until we find her,” Kara interrupts, upset at the thought. There’s no way she’s doing anything other than wait here for the moment they find Livewire.

“I mean go to Cat. You need to protect her, I can tell. So go do that. Tell her Kara called you or something,” Alex explains, and Kara feels a wave of relief wash through her. She can go to Cat, she can protect her from there.

Then the rest of what Alex had said sinks in, and Kara winces as she finally turns to face her sister. “I don’t have to tell her that, she kind of already knows I’m Supergirl again,” Kara admits. At Alex’s look of horror Kara heads for the door, not wanting to wait around to have that conversation. “Tell me when you find her, gotta go!” she calls back over her shoulder before taking off. She already knows the hotel Cat will be staying at, the only one in the city that meets her exacting standards.

She calls Cat when she’s somewhere over Michigan, slowing down just enough to make sure the connection is solid and the wind isn’t overpowering. “Miss Grant? I have agents working on finding Livewire, but until we find her, I think you’ll be safest if I’m there. And I’m sure you have questions.”

“Oh, does this mean you’ll actually answer them?” Cat asks, sarcasm clear in her voice as Kara winces. “Will you be bringing the NDAs for me to sign before admitting anything else?”

“No NDAs this time,” Kara promises, though she half expects Alex to follow her in the DEO jet with an entire stack. “But I’ll still answer.”

“I assume you remember which hotel?” Cat asks, and Kara hums her agreement. “Top floor. Balcony door is open.”

As the call disconnects Kara speeds up again, crossing the remaining distance in just under a minute before slowing to land carefully on the balcony of Cat’s room. Even knowing Cat is expecting her Kara hesitates before entering, feeling somehow as if she’s entering Cat’s personal space despite the balcony being off the sitting room of a hotel.

But this is the first time she’ll be seeing Cat as both Supergirl and Kara, and it’s immediately after she’d made a major mistake. Nothing about the meeting puts Kara at ease, and she has to take a few deep breaths before she can bring herself to open the door.

“You make better time than I would have expected,” Cat says as she looks up from her tablet, face unreadable as Kara stands awkwardly in the doorway. “Hit a nice tailwind over the plains?”

“I actually did,” Kara says, shifting in place for a moment before stepping the rest of the way inside and closing the door behind her. “but I also wasn’t pushing my speed to the limit. I tested it once, if I really push I can make it to France in less than five minutes.”

“Hm, too bad you can’t take passengers, think of what you could do for my travel time.” There’s a hint of bite to Cat’s familiar banter, a hint of Kara’s old boss mixed in with Supergirl’s mentor. “Don’t just stand there, come sit down so we can talk.”

Another deep breath and Kara is crossing the room, painfully aware of the way Cat is studying her every move. She hates feeling as if she’s disappointed the woman, and even with the cape and crest can feel her shoulders beginning to droop in reaction.

“I really am sorry, Miss Grant,” Kara starts, only to be interrupted by a raised hand from Cat.

“First off, you still apologize too much. You’ve told me exactly how sorry you are, we don’t need to keep repeating it. Second, I’m no longer your boss, and this is a decidedly personal conversation. Call me Cat. Third, what the hell is going on with you lately?”

“I, what do you mean?” Kara asks, brow scrunching in confusion. “Nothing’s been going on with me, not really.”

“Then why are you making ridiculous decisions like letting Leslie go, or quoting yourself in articles for Snapper, or getting into a fight with a mutated climate change scientist without knowing what he could do to you?” Cat asks with a pointed look, and Kara flushes at every criticism she adds. “You’re better than this, Kara. We saw that last year with the Myriad mess. You’re struggling, and you need to figure out why before we end up with another oil spill in the bay.”

“I’ve just felt so adrift,” Kara admits after thinking about it, wondering when exactly a trip to protect Cat and let the woman yell at her had turned into this. “Everything changed so fast, and then it never stopped changing. Mon-El fell from the sky and then fell in love with me. James and I dated then broke up, and then I find out he’s risking his life as the Guardian every night. Alex is happy and I’m happy for her, but it means she isn’t there the way she used to be. And I shouldn’t depend on her, but it seems like I’ve lost everything in my life that kept me stable. Even my new job is more challenge than reward right now, though I think I’m finally starting to get that under control.”

Kara hadn’t realized how much she needed to vent until Cat offered her the opportunity, but it helps a surprising amount. The deep seated frustrations that had been building for so long are finally out there to deal with. And Cat isn’t yelling at her, even though she deserves it, instead she’s just sitting there letting Kara get it all out.

“We’ll come back to James and his apparent idiocy later,” Cat starts, and Kara can’t help the grin that crosses her face at Cat agreeing with her. “You’re taking on too much, including things that should never have been yours to deal with in the first place. I thought you’d learned that lesson by now, Kara. You’re only one person. One super powered alien from another planet, yes, but there’s still only one of you.”

“I know,” Kara sighs, finally relaxing back into the sofa as Cat’s words seem to drain the tension from her shoulders. “And I try to remind myself of that, but between trying to turn Mon-El into a superhero and trying to find my place in the world, it always feels as if I should be doing more.”

“Kara Danvers, I swear to whatever god it is you worship, you know better than that. The fact that I told you to own your power does not mean you have to own every problem in the world too!” Cat sounds exasperated, not that Kara can blame her. She knows that what Cat’s saying is right, she’d just forgotten for a while.

“I’d forgotten how well you give an inspiring speech,” Kara jokes, though she means what she said. And from the look Cat is giving her, the woman knows she means it. “I really have missed you, Cat.”

“I’ve missed you too, Kara,” Cat admits without a hint of deflection. “I’ve been enjoying my time exploring the things I never got a chance to do, but I have missed you. I’ve missed CatCo too, and my city. Europe is lovely, but it’s not home.”

“You could always come back,” Kara says softly, hoping Cat won’t see the naked hope in the words. It’s a selfish request, but one Kara can’t help making.

“I don’t think I’m quite done with everything I can do out in the rest of the world,” Cat says gently, and Kara tries not to be crushed even though she’d half expected the response. “But if you’re really that speedy, then there’s no reason you can’t drop by any time you need a motivational lecture or two.”

Kara isn’t sure she’d heard right at first, but when she realizes what Cat’s offered her, it’s all she can do to stay seated instead of rising to pull Cat into a hug. Even from a distance, having Cat in her life as an anchoring support will give her something she can count on as everything continues to change around her. Even just the promise that she’ll be there would be enough, but Kara can hear the sincerity in her words, knows that Cat truly wants her to reach out.

“I may take you up on that,” Kara responds with a beaming smile, already feeling better.

“Now, on to the next thing,” Cat says after she returns the smile with a softer one of her own, and Kara nods, expecting the usual questions about her life on Krypton. “Why were you so distracted by Leslie that you forgot to call? I know you’ve been distracted by trying to take on too much, but if I remember correctly the last time she got free your first stop was trying to convince me to run to safety.”

“I thought you were already safe,” Kara tries, fidgeting as Cat sends her a sharp look. “I mean, I did, but I also maybe panicked at the thought of her being out? And you were safely away but she could still try to come after you, so I wanted to catch her as quickly as possible, before it was an issue.”

“A warning would still have been nice,” Cat says with a glare, and Kara knows her well enough to see the hint of fear lingering behind it. “Especially as you later decided that capturing her wasn’t a priority.”

“She seems to have focused on blaming me now,” Kara says in an attempt to explain, fighting down the urge to offer yet another apology. “Maybe she doesn’t even intend to come after you.”

“I’d rather you not stake my life on that,” Cat says dryly, and Kara flushes. “And Kara, you can’t panic every time someone is threatened. You won’t be of any use as a hero if you do.”

“It’s not every time,” Kara argues without thinking, only realizing what she’d said when Cat shoots her a sharp look. “I mean, it’s not like I freeze up every time I have to fight someone, right?”

“No, you don’t,” Cat says thoughtfully, and Kara freezes as she wonders what Cat’s figured out. “You rarely panic, in fact. Only with the people you care about.”

Kara can’t meet her eyes, even knowing she’s probably past tipping her hand at this point. Cat’s won countless awards thanks to her investigative instinct, one poorly hidden emotion will be no challenge at all.

The silence stretches on, and before long Kara can’t take it anymore. “Yeah, only with the people I care about,” she admits, finally looking up from her clasped hands to meet Cat’s eyes, hoping she hasn’t ruined everything. If she was a little better at hiding from the people she cared about there might be a chance of playing it off, but as recent events have driven home far too well, sneaky is not her strong suit.

The moment hangs between the two of them as the silence stretches on, neither seeming willing to break the stalemate. Kara doesn’t want to move backwards, to take back the half confession she’d offered, but the thought of moving forward terrifies her. And Cat seems to feel at least something similar, because she shows no signs of breaking the silence either.

They probably would have gone on just staring at one another until Kara broke down and admitted the full truth of her emotions, but her phone goes off before that can happen. The text tone is loud in the silence between them, and Kara jumps before she can control herself, looking around wildly to make sure it’s not Livewire showing up to ruin her day.

But it’s just a text from Alex, and with a sigh of relief Kara relaxes to check what it says.

“Are you kidding me?” she exclaims as she reads it, looking up at Cat in disbelief. “They already caught Livewire. I told them to call me when they found her.”

“I may be missing something, but isn’t the fact that they caught her a good thing?” Cat says with an arched brow. “I know I’m relieved, for one.”

“But I should have been there, what if they’d gotten hurt?” Kara argues, standing to pace as she feels the restless energy and worry rise inside her.

“Didn’t we just talk about this?” Cat says as she stands as well, crossing the room to stand in front of where Kara is pacing. Hands on her shoulders bring Kara to a stop, and with a sigh she meets Cat’s eyes, letting the worry drain from her stance as she remembers Alex is fine. That Cat and everyone else are safe again. “You can’t be everywhere and do everything, Kara. Your sister obviously realizes that, you need to start believing it yourself. Sometimes taking a moment for you is the best thing you can do.”

The reassurance is exactly what Kara had needed to hear, and with a sigh she relaxes into the feeling of Cat’s hands on her shoulders, letting their comforting weight take the place of her guilt and worry. Cat’s concern and care is a load she’ll gladly bear, far more welcome than the earlier guilt and worry. She’s always the strong one, and not just because of her super strength. But here with Cat, she doesn’t have to be. She can be fallible, as long as she admits to her mistakes and strives to be better. She can be human, rather than the hero everyone else needs her to be.

“Thank you, Cat,” Kara says, pouring the truth of the words into her voice. “You really do always know exactly what I need to hear.”

“You deserve to have someone you can lean on sometimes,” Cat says, reacting to the thanks by pulling Kara in for a hug that the hero doesn’t even try to resist. “You don’t have to be strong all the time, Kara. You’re allowed to be as human as the rest of us.”

They stand like that for several long minutes, just soaking up the contact, until Kara finally moves to pull away. “I should probably go check on everyone, make sure they’ve at least got Leslie in a decent cell this time,” she says reluctantly, not wanting to leave.

“Once you have, you’re always welcome to return,” Cat promises, direct gaze making sure Kara understands and believes what she’s saying. That she understands even though this isn’t the moment to press forward, Kara doesn’t think her care and emotions are unreturned. That when the time is right, Cat will be there for that as well.

There will always be this place, these moments where Cat lets her be who she needs to be. She will always be able to take a moment for herself here. And that promise, at this moment, gives Kara more power than the sun ever could.

#supergirl #supergirl fic #supercat #supercat fic #supergirl spoilers #fix it fic #who needs sleep when there's fic to be written?

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