#also there is my overpowering need to give every character I love (within reason) a redemption arc

[the-blazing-star]

The sad thing for me as an ineffable bureaucracy lover is that there is a 50 / 50 percent chance that we might not see them actually do things in the story in s3 and that makes me sad.

Like as much as I love that they have their happy ending it doesn’t feel completely satisfying to me like I really want an actual apology from Gabriel to aziraphale, sure we got on from Jim to Crowley but while Jim did feel bad it doesn’t really count since he didn’t remember it, I think it would be good for both of them. It would also kinda make sense for Crowley to team up with G+B since they know their respective former offices more then anyone.

But if I’m being completely honest I don’t really need any of this to happen, I mean Gabriel and Beelzebub got together and ran away that is a miracle itself, I still would absolutely love for them to push the plot along together in s3, but I suppose we’re gonna have to wait and see.

[editoress]

@hooded-and-cloaked said: I’ve never read any SJM books, but aside from the plagiarism, can you elaborate on the writing crutches that you’ve also seen in other books (for my edification. I haven’t written in years, but maybe I will again)?

For sure!

Perhaps the broadest and most egregious thing I keep encountering is super special omnipotent characters. SJM loves to heap on unlikely inheritances, never-before-seen powers, connections to gods, etc., onto the same person. I think there's real fun to be had with overpowered characters, but in her writing, it's purely a bestowing of authorial favor. And it's EVERY time. The protagonist gets the most powers and advantages; secondary characters get less but still have insane, impossible gifts compared to most people in the world; and if any of the heroes misbehave, they lose what makes them special as a consequence.

The reason I call this a crutch and not just an annoyance is because her characters aren't very strong—you know, writing wise. They act inconsistently, and she has no sense of nuance or moral gray area when writing their decisions. Sooo I'm not sure whether giving them super-special-awesome powers is shorthand to let the reader know who to like (e.g. the protag has seven magic powers, therefore she is the coolest, therefore she should be liked the most)? Or if it's an attempt to make the characters more interesting, or what? But it's tiring and unnecessary. The truth is that if you hand me a well-written character, whether they're a scruffy nobody or have godlike powers, I'll like them!

Related to the superpowers is the way the stakes of the story make insane jumps and become impersonal. In short, her plots aren't very good. Later villains are one-note, moustache-twirling forces of evil who are going to destroy the entire world for no reason unless the heroes stop them. Basically, SJM uses the highest stakes imaginable (world blows up, etc.) in lieu of planning out a plot with any intrigue or complexity.

A lot of new authors have bought into the idea of a Force of Evil rather than a villain, some nebulous badness that must be defeated. And to me, that's lazy writing. Come up with an interesting reason for someone to oppose your heroes! Give me a villain and a plot!

Anyway, to accomplish these stakes half the time, she has to retcon everything. It's another side effect of her not planning out her world or her story: she finds herself stuck in a corner, having to make something up. (It's also a side effect of her work no longer being edited.) This is absolutely a crutch, and she leans all her weight on it. She presents things that contradict earlier writing in order to achieve:

more powers bestowed upon the protagonist (Even though we know her heritage already, she is ALSO related to ANOTHER magical being!)

an even bigger bad force (I know we said the last guy was the only one who could use the demon powers, but now there's another one who is somehow worse!)

moving characters from the Good to Bad category or vise versa (Actually he never did that bad thing earlier! He's never done anything wrong in his life!)

I see a lot of that last bullet point especially in other books. Rather than character development, some authors spring for explaining away a character's crimes. Hastily wiping clean the slate rather than letting a story work through anything. Boooooo.

Retconning is straight up awful writing and I'm tired of seeing it. It's so much fun to create a world and rules within it, and then make characters work within those limits! Breaking those rules very occasionally can be such a great dramatic hit. But constantly? No. Stop lying to me in every book. >:[

Last but not least, SJM needed a way for all of her female characters to be sad and frightened and undeniably damaged, and it's rape trauma. Around every figurative corner is another woman with PTSD from rape. It's a shortcut to get the audience's sympathy and show you that a character is a broken woman who needs love. But please note that several of her male characters have also been raped, and that's just kind of :/ and never brought up again. And while some authors have written characters with rape trauma and done it well, many have not. At all.

So yeah, I wish new authors wouldn't copy the class clown's homework.

[sprooknooky]

Irene and Wall for the character ask?

Thank you for the ask!! Two of my favorite guys ever!! This ended up being really long...

Irene:

favorite thing about them:

Just her <33 She’s like my favorite person. Sorry real life friends, Irene is my best friend and has been since I was twelve years old.

Really though, I actually enjoy her part of the story (ignoring the sequel). I love that she’s a weird old lady who invented dragon slayers and lives in a castle across the ocean from her daughter that she just assumes is dead. Fuckin amazing. She’s flirty. She’s really hot and she knows it. She’s traumatized as hell. Good for her.

least favorite thing about them:

This kinda goes for every woman in Fairy Tail, but I hate that she’s used for fanservice, especially in the sequel, but also how they changed some scenes in the anime to showcase her massive tits. Like really?? She’s better than this. Let her wear clothes. Please.

Also, I really love super overpowered characters, but for a lot of Irene’s attacks, pure plot armor was used to beat her. Like why is she able to summon a meteor? That part is so dumb. Just let her be an enchantress. It just feels weirdly inconsistent to show that she’s powerful. We already know she’s powerful. Whatever. I’m salty.

favorite line:

Irene says some absolutely batshit stuff but I may have to go with this one. I like how sarcastic it is. She’s such an asshole (affectionate).

Also fun fact: they forgot to color the collar of her top in this panel!

brOTP:

Irene and Bloodman!! I know they don’t interact at all in canon but I love that they’re on the same team during the war. It sparked something within me. They’re both super old and have to put up with Zeref’s bullshit and would bond over that. <3

OTP:

Irene x Anna! They’re old and traumatized and totally knew each other 400 years ago. Also, Irene is a lesbian so I like it a lot better than Irene x Zeref or Irene x Acnologia.

nOTP:

Ehhhh Irene x Acnologia gives me bad vibes… I understand the appeal I guess? She created dragon slayers to help the dragons and he became a dragon slayer and killed all of them. But MAN is it toxic. They both deserve better.

random headcanon:

I think I’ve said this one before but she watches so much shitty reality TV. Like the dating shows where people are on an island and have sex and there’s drama for no reason. She loves that stuff. She makes fun of it daily.

unpopular opinion:

She shouldn’t have been back in the sequel…. I love Irene. So much. But she really didn’t add anything meaningful and didn’t need the ending they gave her. It was just really dissatisfying in my opinion. I feel like a lot of people didn’t mind her being back, but it really doesn’t make sense.

song i associate with them:

Never Love an Anchor by the Crane Wives thanks to @pencilofawesomeness ‘s post here (it’s so cool!! I hope you don’t mind the tag)

favorite picture of them:

She is SO PRETTY but also so silly and I’m struggling to pick just one…

But probably this one :)

-

Wall:

favorite thing about them:

I love their silly little personality. I enjoy deranged little guys in general but I like that he has a weird lawyer thing going on. He says “indeed” a lot and stuff like “case dismissed” and it’s so funny. Their title is the adjudicator. Why is he a lawyer??? And the best part is he can rewrite his own personality. So he wrote himself to be this way. That’s amazing. Go little funky robot guy go!!

least favorite thing about them:

I feel like Wall was really doomed by the narrative. He should have had so much more screen time. He just has so much potential. Why introduce a species of robot people as well as alchemy just to kill the guy off? It just makes me sad because they’re so fun.

favorite line:

This is just so badass

brOTP:

Wall and Dimaria are menaces <3 I love that they tease each other in canon and they definitely spar in their free time. Everyone hates it when they’re together because they’ll just gang up on people and make fun of them. It’s great.

OTP:

I don’t think I ship Wall with anyone… they give me aroace vibes.

nOTp:

I think some people ship him with Neinhart? That’s kinda weird in my opinion. Don’t they hate each other? I dunno, it just feels wrong. Besides, Neinhart is too stupid to get any bitches. (Full offense to Neinhart.)

random headcanon:

He was broken out of jail by the empire and that’s why his outfit kinda looks like a prison jumpsuit.

unpopular opinion:

I don’t think I’ve seen enough people complaining about red lightning but it should not have killed Wall. Lightning is lightning regardless of color or strength or whatever. I would have much preferred Wall die by being outsmarted. I also really hate Laxus fighting Wall at all… I think it would have been so much cooler to give the Thunder Legion a better fight against them! Anyway, I don’t know how unpopular that is, but it’s all I have right now.

song i associate with them:

Hmm… I can’t really think of one right now. I’ll update this if I remember anything though.

favorite picture of them:

This one’s pretty rad :D (Or the one I used for his quote)

[m1ckeyb3rry]

DHDGSJSJS touching grass for an embarrassingly long time SORRY I fear this is not quite the end of the grass touching….it should be soon though within the next week or so then I can go back to being chronically online ugh

PLEASE get rid of that /j im /srs episode Karasu PLEASEEE I lowk wanna see more of him in action at Bambi Osaka omg I remember when people were still theorizing Kira comeback lowk kinda fun reading all of their “analysis” but fr like npcs are needed…no npc shaming here their unimportance is important LMAO

LMFAO WAIT SENDOU FITS SO WELL peaked boyfailure energy i lowk forgot about him oops

LMAOOO dw 2k event will be nagipalooza trust…also OOPS thought i read the otoya one was a req somewhere my b but either way wait speaking of how’s that going? The otoya inspo before Karasu inspo is really funny though LOL

I HAD A FEELING I was trying to pinpoint who the dead boy was and figured Niko was the only reasonable option even if it wasn’t exactly him LMAOO

RIN ISEKAID BY A SHOT FROM SHIDOU TO THE HEAD LMFDOAOAOAOAAO im crying that would be a really funny crack fic

YESS THATS THE AUDIO LMAOOO omg you get me!!! But LOLL imagine Niko taking notes on who has the most vibrant hair like “yup ok they’re a main character I’m not gonna play against them they’ve got plot armor” and fr the otoya chive strip overpowers the 80% white on his head would not categorize him as white haired LMAO

LMFAOOO the stop fighting tiktok has me laughing but also omg eightbit did that scene kinda dirty omg

AUAHAHA I SAW THE ISAGI DRESSED UP AS KAISER ONE it’s actually hilarious the posing sent me

Oh wait that Aiku edit kinda….ok if he fr just cleaned up that stubble I would’ve been an Aiku fan a long time ago I just cannot get over the stubble…..this edit fr being aikus wingman though….we’re still in the homeboy zone that stubble lowk is a dealbreaker rn I won’t allow it….

OSISUHDIS KARASUUUUUU bro his voice…HIS VOICE >>>>>> Karasu my number one eightbit please continue to feed us

CRYING THATS SO LORENZO CODED he would def do that in oaeu and even in canon LMAOOO

I refreshed the page so I could send in this ask and got jumpscared by that….that….emoji….????? You used in your latest reply I’m gone

- Karasu anon

ALDHSHAHSJ IT’S OKAYYY it’s midterms week for me this week to be honest so i’ll probably be somewhat mia as well 😭 we are in this together but trust we will both be back and better than ever soon enough!!

PLSSS okay because i would eat up seeing him in bambi osaka ngl ughhhh i love him so much he’s literally my man LMAOAO anyways yeah i’ve seen the kira comeback theories circulating idk i think at this point it’s not going to happen but some of them were cool!! agreed though sometimes npcs can just stay npcs it’s okay 😭 focus the backstory and development on characters that are actually important HAHAHA

no because i ALWAYS forget about sendou except for his few mentions in the oaeu but he lowkey fits the vibes insanely well especially given his egoist bible info like he’s just silly 😭 you’ll never catch me caring abt him but sometimes when you need a character you need a character yk

AHDHSHSH 2K WE CAN ONLY HOPE my next event will probably be 1.5k i think…ik people do 1.2k a lot but i’m already kinda close to that and i’ve posted ONE 1k event req so uhhh yeah i’ll wait until 1.5k i think every 500 followers is a good rhythm and gives me some downtime too because i have so many fics i need to work on for myself too 😫

ngl i’ve been very scattered in my writing attempts UGH haven’t felt truly inspired by anything in a bit…wrote a couple sentences for pursuit and then closed the doc…wrote a page or two for a 1k event req and then closed the doc…wrote a bit for nagi’s oaeu and then closed the doc…fixed a typo in the in-progress-since-june chapter of PEREGRINE 😭 and then closed the doc…so the going has been rough 😓 i was briefly inspired for the oaeu and aiku did come and speak through me for a bit which was nice (can always rely on him for that) but then i was just not feeling it 😔 i didn’t end up starting the otoya one shot but lowkey maybe i should just try working on that and seeing if i get anywhere 😰 worst comes to worst i’ll rewatch violet evergarden or smth and be inspired to write the most soul crushing one shot for someone or another

NIKO IS ALWAYS CATCHING STRAYS LDFJJSNDS bro cannot catch a break reader’s uncle was fr in his isagi era or smth…anyways yeah it was him!! i love throwing in sly little #hehe references every now and again

OKAY BECAUSE LOWKEY THE VISION HAS ME CACKLING imagine it has one of those cheesy ass titles like “My Rival Hit Me in the Head With a Soccer Ball and Now I Have to Save the Cold Unifier of Japan!” or smth like that LMAOAOAO hold on who are we picking though…stan rin in yukimiya’s body or ninja otoya (i’d include gardener karasu but that’s not a fair option because we all know who we’d pick if he was a choice)

WAIT SPEAKING OF GREEN the blue lock additional times have made me realize otoya’s eyebrows are also green??? so he’s canonically green haired TO ME like the white isn’t even there fr…LMAOAAO niko predicts chigiri’s awakening before it even happens because no “background character” would ever have hair that bright 😭

PLSSS lowkey 8bit did not come through for us icl 😔 at least they made karasu and OTOYA ESPECIALLY really fine…next ep is looking like there will be some nagi and yuki action i’m hoping that means we get better animation since 8bit is just like me and loves nagi KDHDJSSJ

NO BECAUSE THAT EDIT IS FR WINGMANNING THE WINGMAN idk what it is but it’s fr making me go hmm….agreed the stubble just isn’t it i can’t get over it!! it’s like how kaiser looks 10x better with his shaggy gold emo hair than with whatever tf he has going on like come onnnn you have potential but i just can’t fully see the vision yet 🙁🙁🙁🙁🙁

KARASU’S VOICE IS SOOOOO NAHDJSDBHDDHSJDJHDSBS anyways i’ve been getting SOO many edits of him and otoya lately it’s amazing my fyp is literally flooded and yk i save EVERY ONE 😭 they’re lowkey popular now they kinda missing the times when they were #secret and it was only elite people who liked them 😔 JKJKJK ofc i’m glad we’re getting more content now TRUST but like…i better not see y’all mischaracterizing my boys…😒😒😒 those are MY emotional support idiot lovesick losers DON’T MAKE THEM PLAYBOYS PLEASEEEEEE I KNOW OTOYA’S A DUMBASS FLIRT BUT HE’S SECRETLY A RIZZLESS LOSER PLSPLSPLS

HELP i love throwing in random reaction images every now and again…wdym you didn’t like it…😕😕😕 (<- joking)

[rumblelibrary]

The Diary of Doctor Laszlo Kreizler

Chapter 1  -  Chapter 2

Synopsis: Alienist’s notes are private, sometimes gruesome, secrets of others and of himself.Those pages belongs to secrecy and decadence, have a glimpse to this world made of drafts, notes, accidents and reflections. Or maybe it is you the only person that should ever reach for it.

While you read this imagine Laszlo mostly at the end of his day, scraping the ideas and the thoughts, adjusting previous notes with additions, closing the day behind himself with a couple of sentences while sitting in his evening robe, a good glass of whiskey and his glasses bridged almost at the tip of his nose. Or maybe imagine yourself, you sneaky thing, reach for it from a far shelf.

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: listen, this is the set of ideas and confessions of a man living in the 1890’s. Most of them will be outdated, rough, even deprecating in some analysis of the roles of men, women and social status, religion, etc.So be prepared, my point is to make Laszlo reflect upon those topics, but to be as faithful as I can to his time. Mention of death, mutilation, self harm and sex. Psychologically troubled young children ahead! Author’s note: The story is placed between season 1 and season 2. Thank you for everyone that encouraged me to keep going. I have to wait for my local drop of serotonin to get fully Laszloed to go through this.

Lyra’s Contellation, Illustration taken from Uranographia by Johann Bode

Routine. Routine is comfort. Habit stabilises the character.

If you follow a routine, you won’t ever be victim of imprudence, of evil jokes of fate. The stability earned through calculated and repeated actions brings a sense of fulfilment that forbids other thoughts to come bashing in, breaking rules, breaking hopes that a solid scheduled routine forbids to have. I take my time to begin this week, I planned the things to do, the next steps for the case, the people to meet, the resources I am allowed to contemplate. I feel good, I feel back to myself and the events of the weekend seem far from me and my own perception. I probably got ahead of myself, carried by some instinctual though and random rush of emotion, to be always in contact with the same people and mostly kids probably doesn’t help my stance in the presence of other adults. I feel silly now reading back the last page, I felt tempted to tear it off, but to keep it there should be a small memento of not losing my temper so easily. I read it over and over and I know I am not as charmed as I thought I was. I am just lonely. I have always been and it is normal to face ups and downs even for a man of my age who is more accustomed to it.  To desire a partner is a natural instinct, to find somebody attractive is meant by nature, it is the body calling for the natural fulfilment of the reason we are put on this very Earth.  But even in a state of nature my own condition would be forbidding me to be part of the natural process of growing my own kind. I am the type of male that would be excluded because of his impossibility to give the protection to the pack, therefore it is just more reasonable to me to adapt to my condition. No matter what my Potentia generandi might be (the ability to procreate).

With all the smugness that characterises him, Niki showed off that he passed my challenge. But to be really of an help to his antics I didn’t show any kind of surprise. I treated him like he did the bare minimum, like he didn’t prove me any kind of superiority. He has a natural attitude toward challenging the figure of power, he is trying to overpower me, but I won’t satisfy his need. I have noticed he has a very technical brain, he finds ways to solve problems in ingenious way and not by throwing himself into the task. I proceeded giving him to work on a clock, an old broken one we had in the institute, one of the kids hit it with a ball years ago and nobody ever worked on repairing it. I gave him the clock, a couple of screwdrivers and a book. He called me a number of German names I won’t transcribe, but it gave me a certain amount of satisfaction. If my intuitions are right, I am sure the clock will be repaired by next week.

Analysis of the victim’s body through John’s eyes. The drawings and sketches are as detailed as I requested, all of this thanks to you joining him. I deal with art critic section, I am used to notice these things. You assure me, you play yourself low and I wonder why, nevertheless you did notice things neither John or I did, which pleased me. It fooled me, distracted me from my purpose to not give in to your witchery, as I leaned closer watching your pale hand move across the pages tracing this or that line, showing how this must be done with the killer on this side and not that side, with words so deliciously elaborate, your way of composing your speech is compelling, you could sell the drawing of a kid like it was a Botticelli. I noticed the shape of your hands, the way you move them, I wonder if you play an instrument, or played, some habits just stick with you through life. I focused on taking notes, your ideas and instructions giving me a new point of view, a new stimulus. What if that is the only way the killer can communicate? Or what if this is the communication that works for him? Could our killer be mute or deaf? Or that’s how society made him feel? This man, or woman, needs a listener and I am afraid that now, since he got our attention and the public’s, he won’t stop. Another killing could be just as close.

Scheduled: meeting with the parents of Alex Garel for new admission, Monday next week at 11 am. Love at first is a fetish and like all fetishes it is based onto an object that hides a deeper meaning, like gloves mean hands, to love at first sight means to see somebody that you think, and think only, to have the chance to share not only a sensual kind of bond, but an intellectual. Love at first sight is based onto not knowing someone well enough, but having the time to idealise most of that someone. I can see why I feel this attraction, using a particular phrase that Sara often mutters when investigating: you tick all the boxes. I know you do, your beauty is everything but conventional, you’re the kind of face that painters would paint and musicians would write hymns about, but any animal on the street would never be allowed to see. You have the grace of the body and the fire in the eyes, and then you speak. When you speak, I realise, you could bring the world to its knees. Also, you never speak out of context, and if you do it is to ease somebody’s position. You do it often with John or with Stevie, you say something really silly in order to put them back to a place of comfort. Some women would call it self deprecating, but I see that you only pick wisely your fights and your wins. You don’t need to earn your peace and quiet by neglecting, but by lifting up the others. I wonder if you do it with me too, if your silences are just you allowing me to be in a better place while instead your judgment is tearing me apart. I shouldn’t care, but I keep wondering, sometimes I take my time to answer you, I analyse every shade, every peculiarity of your question, I am looking for sarcasm, for a condescending voice, for something to hang on and bare you open. To prove myself you’re not perfect. But deep down I know that you do, you judge me and you do well.

Mother never said so. That’s what one of the girls in my care said today. Ursula. She is tough. Skin as thick as an alligator and the tendency to pull her own hair at night or when under a massive amount of stress, enuresis alongside erratic episodes of mutism. I tried the soft approach, it didn’t work. She is too accustomed to be indulged. Therefore today I pushed her a bit overboard, I teased her over opinions on the female body, the female role, she is only 12, but she is soon to bleed, she knows, I can tell from the way she clenches to her skirts, from the way she looks at me as a threatening figure. I am the incarnation of danger to her. Under her steady silence, I pushed a bit more, asking how her mother taught her to be nice and submissive. Does her mother tells her she is going to be a good wife? The phrase, which I reported at the top of the page, surprised me.  What is her mother teaching to her then? What closed her so much, locked her soul away, making a small bird like this choose the silence and the retirement of self inflicted pain over, what? Mankind? Or just Men? Is that even a curse? Should I cure her from a truth that her own mother whispered to her ear one night before bed and made a child decide that the world wasn’t a place to share her time with? Am I the man supposed to teach her that men are worth of trust? In the eyes of modern society, who measures its own value over the modesty of the women, she would be a champion, but at what price? I can’t in any way let her parents bring her back home after our recent meetings. Nevertheless, I have to make up my own mind on how to give her troubled soul ease without making her believe in fables. I, as a man, regard myself not worth of any of the trust they expect me to teach her.

In all of my years practicing with people’s feelings and traumas, I challenged myself to find those same traumas within my own mind. It is a tricky game, terrible, anguishing at times. But it straightens me, the pain of others, the pain of kids mostly, so unadulterated and pure, breaks the curtain between me and the lies that I often surround myself with. Pain is made of method, you can open it up, you can scrutinise it, part it piece by piece dividing it in sectors and, partitions, centre part, side part, heart of the problem. Pain is reliable. Happiness is not. It is random, cruelly sudden, unexpected, it washes over you in such deflecting way only to leave you alone a moment after ashamed and alone. I saw you again today. You were in a table full of what I could only guess as your former university colleagues, I saw pain in you, not heavy but constant. Annoyance, a bit of sadness. Your head titling on side and your eyes drifting on the left, you’re imagining something away from them.  A place? An object? Or maybe someone? Your hands play circles at the bottom of the flute of your drink like kids do, your smile only one sided. I don’t see you speak at all, only listen.  What could keep your voice down? I almost gulped down my own breath as you looked up and I realised how I must have looked. I was having lunch on my own, in a very private table and even entertaining myself with a newspaper on the side. I wish you didn’t, but you came over, your eyes shining.  Did I save you? Or maybe I was just a good excuse to leave that painful meeting behind. Don’t be so nice to me, it is not healthy. Don’t look at me like you expect anything more from me than me listening. I won’t smile back at you, I won’t give you care, attentions or thought. I won’t lean for your perfume, I won’t obsess over that dress you wore, that pin that adorned your neckline keeping your undershirt in place, a silver robin, I remember. I won’t remember the number of the buttons on the side of your glove, three. I won’t observe the little moles just under your ear. A small constellation, I later realised, hidden between your ear and the beginning of your neck. I don’t need to check in my books. It is a constellation. It is Lyra. Why? Why you must be like this? Are you the Lyra? Are you the instrument of Orpheus come to me to drag me out of Hell? The Tartarus holds my soul and you should know already, I am not worth the quarter part of Eurydice to be saved and she never came back anyway. I won’t be now recollecting the way your teeth sunk in the inner side of your cheek when you apologised for the annoyance.  You apologised twice, I ignored you both times with a raised hand to request peace and silence. I am not letting you in.

Reserved: Tickets for Wednesday’s evening Traviata by Giuseppe Verdi. The guest female lead promises a beautiful show.

Leonardo, as I am learning through Paul Valery essay, is who I would define as a figure of projective identification of the Subject or, to better explain it, of the knowledge of the Subject that formed and grew through the use of sketches in the experience of the Artist. I have always thought that the finest form of art was the representation of knowledge duly undressed by any personal identification. Leonardo, instead, proceeded to represent the figure through the essence of the artist, a representation technically unlimited on objects and symbols and that keep expressing the transformation and development of Leonardo’s own being.Some artists are testimony of the destruction of the world, of the loss of eternal beauty over decadence. And then you have Leonardo, who creates an art that is the gravity of the world’s system, of the nature, of thoughts and abstractions. I wonder if our killer does the same, if the way they presents the victim through their own personal view, if what we can read there it is their stories, their pains, their needs. Their happiness and troubles. What are they trying to tell me?  I need to know, I need to know to save a life, of course, but I also need to know to be able to sleep at night. Hair, hair are the epitome of femininity in any era. I keep studying Ursula and her habit to pull the. I took notes on it: she picks them by the bottom, slowly separates them until she gains an amount her mind defines satisfactory and then she rolls her finger and pulls, she does it until her finger is empty and there are no hair left. I find her process incredibly interesting. In men’s case the display of physical attributes is not as vital, a beard can be appreciated but does not modify the power of seduction of a grown man. On the contrary, for women hair are a vital part of their attractiveness toward the opposite sex, society sees the hair of a woman as part of their vital characteristics, also in ancient times for a woman to cut her hair or have her hair cut was a sign of deep separation from the society. Only heroines or whores wore that mark and the association of the two is so rooted into the way society always parted the role of a woman in two that it is nauseating to think of. I am still fearing to let Ursula go away, the repulsion that she is showing toward her own body makes it difficult even for me to crack her shell open as a man, but my deepest worry is when that hate will take a scarier and deeper tool on her. How a girl with such  a fear of what her body can do, like sex or pregnancy, can endure in the future to have an husband? Or even to be courted by anyone?

John is helpless and I admire him for that. He doesn’t hide it, he just is. He is vulnerable and exposed, he is an open well bursting with doubts and feelings and troubled waters. He is genuine in a way I could never be. Maybe that’s why I despise even more him talking about you, how he sees you every morning, how you greet everybody, how you behave even with interns, how you like your coffee.  Your talents, your wits, how you said this and acted like that and reasoned through him. How you forbid him to drink even when he felt tempted. How you stayed late over to help him collect all the informations I requested him to get. To him. Not to you. The evil demon of envy scratching in the back of my head screaming like a siren out in the sea, he demands to be heard, he demands to be allowed a part in this game. I won’t allow him that. I won’t allow myself any of that. This is a pure game of chess, if I give in a pawn now, I will lose my knight, and I know it. I advice him to not be so closed minded when he praises you, only to get surprised by the charms of a natural logical mind. I find a way to hurt him, he is an easy target, I look at him as his eyebrows twitch and he summons his patience on me. He lost the plot about you already, his bruised pride taking over. You won’t come into my life.

“Un dì, felice, eterea, mi balenaste innante, e da quel dì tremante vissi d'ignoto amor.”  (“On a day, happy and ethereal, you appeared in front of me and from that day, trembling, I lived on an unknown love”)

The words of Alfredo in the first act of the Traviata keep running through me, a chant that won’t let me go, almost painful. The Opera House, that was my hiding place, a place where in plain sight I could let out myself, unleash. The catharsis of the characters involved running through me, I didn’t need anything but their voices and those musical instruments to let out my fears, doubts and anger. When Alfredo came to the scene tonight, the lights were strong and slightly pinkish, the performer bursting out of the seams with passion. My eyes diverted only to see you there. Alone. Those blinding lights gave you the the radiance of a vision singing the notes of greek myths and heroes, that dark blue evening clothing rang through my eyes like it was a bright yellow, the little shiny details that adorned you so clear against the heavy lighting to look like transparent pieces of water collected to adorn your beauty. I wasn’t me, but Alfredo, and I was helpless against you sitting so far and yet too close from me. I was naked in front of thousands. I am aware of the effect you have on me and our last conversation was barely regarded as one. This is infatuation, this is the pure work of a lonely mind and not something worth of any of all the words that I am dissipating here. Yet. I saw you cry at the climax of the opera, Violetta, the protagonist, heartbroken falling on stage consumed by pain and regret for her lost love and ultimate sacrifice. Your eyes shone as you tried to hide the tears and collect yourself. Through my binoculars, I saw your throat tremble and gulp down something more than just a sigh of pain. Your jaw clenched, your gloved hand moves to hide your shaking lips. I reckon, I have never seen such sad lips look more inviting. You look at the wall on your side breathing through your nose and not even that can save you by the strength of the voice of the soprano. You’re defeated and so you brought a fine silk handkerchief to your eyes, your shoulders bent inward in self defence.  The Opera won. It won you like it always wins me. I wonder if you felt like this because of a past lover, somebody that broke your heart and made you feel wrong in any way.  And because of that little wonder it is even more clear to me why I am a man worth of no trust. Because for a moment, I know, I wished to be the one that broke your heart. That gave you just the pain you’re inflicting on me so mercilessly by offering intoxicating kindness and beauty.  To own your thoughts, tears and shame. To be the one man you have to look away from. I want to own all of that and, maybe, I will be freed of you the day you’ll be just another human being that hates Dr Laszlo Kreizler.

Tagged @cazzyimagines​ @lieutenantn​ @handmaiden-of-mischief​ @thesunflowersutra​ @zemomybeloved​​ @fictionlandslanddreams​ @charistory​ @greeneyedblondie44​ @apparrio​ @hb8301​ @whatawildone​

Let me know if you want to get tagged too <3

[obaewankenobis]

for forever — obi-wan kenobi

pairing(s)  :  obi-wan kenobi x reader ( mostly focused on obi-wan’s character, not the relationship because i am a hoe for this man )

summary  :  after the fall of the jedi order, you can finally be together. alternatively, obi-wan needs therapy/deserves happiness.

word count  :  2.1k

warning(s)  :  character death, a bit of angst i guess but it’s mostly fluff.

notes   :  roughly edited so i apologize if things don’t make sense, i honestly came up with this on a whim and have No Idea what was going through my head when i wrote this. the povs also switch a lot but enjoy </3.

       The sand bit at his fair skin, the grainy winds of Tatooine ruffled through his auburn locks, peppered with strands of grey, as Obi-Wan Kenobi stood, rigid and grief stricken. Kind wrinkles framed his eyes, eyes weighed down by exhaustion and desolation, the memory of a thousand wars flickering in the brilliant blue reflection. Without speaking, the woman looking at him from afar knew he had suffered a lifetime of hardship and grief, his aching heart not given a moment to mourn the loss of those closest to him. The mahogany cloak billowed around his body, covering the burnt, tattered tan robes he wore, as the wind picked up, signaling there would be little time before the twin suns set and it was much too dangerous to be outside. Snuggled between the lone man’s arms, swathed in soft cream blankets to shelter him from the cruel and unforgiving weather, was a baby. With sea blue eyes and the sparse tufts of pale blonde hair, the newborn was the mirror image of his father — that in itself was bittersweet.

       Fire. That was all Obi-Wan could remember, the smoldering lava confining him and his enemy — once his friend, his brother — inside a tight circle of flashing blue and blazing rage. Now, things were blissfully quiet, as if the universe was trying to give him peace of mind after what it had taken from him. With heavy shoulders and hollow eyes, Obi-Wan was a shell of who he used to be: a great warrior and an excellent negotiator, all gone. His last mission was here, on Tatooine, to deliver the baby to his aunt and uncle: Owen and Beru Lars. Then, he would spend the rest of his years wasting away in a sandy prison, languishing in his defeat.

       “Is it true?” The woman from afar, who had taken to staring at him from a distance, finally approached him, awaiting his answer with bated breath — Beru. Is it true? The words reverberated in his head, as the reality came crashing down upon him. The woman in front of him needed certainty, she needed answers, answers Obi-Wan could not give her.

       “Yes,” came the final reply. Who knew a single word could hold such heavy meaning? Yes. An entire government who’s history spanned hundreds of years prior collapsed within a single day? Yes, that had happened. His religion, who he had devoted his entire life to and poured his soul into, gone? Yes, decimated without a sliver of mercy. The baby’s father, the hero of the galaxy, the crown jewel of the Jedi Order, killed? Yes, murdered in cold blood.

       Beru finally brought her attention to the boy nestled within the robes of the man. “Is he . . . ” She seemed to only speak in half questions, as if finishing the sentence would make it a harsh reality, and leaving the query to hang heavy in the air would somehow leave her life in a fairytale.

       “Yes,” he replied again, nearly choking on his words as the boy let out a tiny coo, as if he sensed they were discussing him.

       “Oh.” There was a pause, a flicker of hesitation, before the woman decided to continue her pattern of half inquiries to form her own story. “May I?” With shaking arms, Beruu reached forward to take the boy from Obi-Wan’s grasp and welcome the baby into her own warm embrace. Part of him didn’t want to let the child go, for once he did he would have no real connection to his past life. Letting go of the boy meant letting go of everything, from his first steps in the Temple, to his meeting with his apprentice on Naboo, to the countless, sleepless nights in a war torn galaxy, it would all be gone. The woman’s tender smile and patient gaze was nearly patronizing, she was trying to sympathize with something she couldn’t possibly understand. No one could. A wave of fury washed over him, trapping him in a cage of his own emotions. Obi-Wan had never felt such an intensity roll over his body, preferring to keep his temperament a tranquil, emotionless pit. But this raw, uncontrollable fury was soon washed out with an even more overpowering bout of sorrow, shaking him with such force it made his knees wobble and threaten to give way. For over thirty years he was taught emotions were the enemy, by being detached and aloof he would survive, and look where that had gotten him.  

      Another soft cry from the baby jerked Obi-Wan back into the present moment, as his tiny arms reached for the woman, drawn to her sunny kindness and comforting aura; he realized a place to call home or a comforting shoulder to cry on was never something he could offer as the baby grew older. The woman made a small clicking sound with her tongue, looking up at Obi-Wan with an expectant gaze, and yet his grip on the baby remained the same. Although his mind seemed desperate to listen to logic, to reason, his body remained motionless, following the dull ache and painful longing in his heart. The battle between his mind and emotions lasted a fraction of a second, and at last, as it had time and time again, his mind won.

       Like he had done all his life, selflessly sacrificing himself for thee good of the galaxy, he let go.

     The woman took the baby in her arms, and began her journey back to her homestead, pausing just slightly to exchange one last parting smile and a word of comfort. “I think someone wants to see you, Master Kenobi.” With that, Beru began walking, a happy baby in her arms, to her husband, just as the sky merged from clear blue to salmon pink and hazy orange, the twin suns beginning to disappear over the horizon rapidly. As the light dimmed and dusk settled in, the man could make out the shadowy figures of Beru and Owen Lars, holding Luke Skywalker in unmoving content.

       Here to see me? Obi-Wan frowned, reflecting on the woman’s words. This was not his home, his very identity was supposed to remain a secret, who could possibly want to see him? Unless . . .

       No, that was impossible. He had mourned your death just as he had mourned every other Jedi’s death the moment their own clones turned against them, and he would not allow even a tiny sliver of hope to crawl its way back into his heart. Because in the end, he could only cling to the belief that things would get better, and false hope in such a desperate time would be his undoing.

—

       You wondered how long you could stand in the shadows before he noticed you, standing awkwardly by his dewback as he delivered Padmé and Anakin's son to his new family. Like Obi-Wan, you had suffered the loss of everything and everyone you knew, your entire life destroyed in the span of a second, and all you could do was stand there, watching everything burn. The Jedi robes you once wore with pride, robes that were once a symbol of humility and hope across the galaxy, now put a priceless bounty on the head of anyone who wore them.

       “Obi-Wan?” The name was dry in your throat, mouth parched and lips cracked due to the harsh Tatooine heat.

       Though he was always subtle, you could see his entire demeanor change, the way his shoulders became straighter, the way his hands, once balled up into fists of worry, were now relaxed and laying loosely at his side. In a moment, he had turned around and closed the distance between the two of you, caramel boots growing dull and scuffed as he stepped through the unforgiving desert surface beneath him. “You’re alive,” his voice came out in a hushed, cautious tone, disbelief still tainting the edges. “I thought — Yoda and I — the only ones left — ” his words grew more jumbled with each passing phrase that left his lips.

       “But I’m here. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere,” you cut him off, the calm gentleness of your tone making him stop in his tracks. Slowly, each movement pained and deliberate, you stepped closer, inching your way forward until he was right in front of you. Neither of you could look away; with the Jedi Order dead, there was no reason to hide in secrecy now.

—

       To realize he was not alone was comforting, but to know it was you he could seek company in was freeing. In that moment, with the distance so close between your bodies, Obi-Wan dared not breathe, his eyes fluttering shut as he let out the smallest of breaths — this was all he had ever wanted, and still, despite everything, it was something he believed he could never have.

       He wouldn’t allow himself to believe it. Not after he spent all those years repressing the desire that burned so deeply within him it began to rot within his heart, trapped with no release in sight. At one point, he had every reason to deny the yearning stirring within him, but now? Now there was no war, no Council, no code, no nothing to stop himself from unleashing decades of pent up turmoil within him.

       And stars, it was suffocating.

       He couldn’t do this.

       “You know you don’t have to push me away any more.” A suggestion more than a factual statement; voice thick and barely audible.

       Was this a dream, a fantasy meant to be chased after in his sleep? Or some sick, twisted premonition the Force was trying to convey to him? So many nights he had spent languishing in his loneliness, dazed in a delusion that remained but a figment of his imagination.

       “I know.”

       “What?”

       “The Jedi are no more. We . . . We don’t have to pretend we don’t have  — ” The words were bittersweet on his tongue; even with no one there to watch and scold him, he could not betray his way of life so easily. That everyone I have ever loved, I have watched die in my arms? And throughout all of that, I have never been tempted by the dark side, but if I lost you, I would be afraid of my own morality? Those were not easy thoughts to formulate into a coherent sentence — there were no words Obi-Wan could say that would even begin to describe how he felt.

       Instead, in a tender gesture of vulnerability, he reached out through the Force, and all at once it came crashing down on him.

       This feeling . . . it was all consuming, and he was drowning, struggling to keep his head above water and not surrender to its frosty depths. He was submerged in an endless stretch of icy ocean water so frigid and numbing, that he felt nothing and everything all at once. It was terrifying to think — and let you know — you held so much power over him, but in the same instance, he felt at peace, like a weight he had dragged around for decades was finally lifted off his shoulders. I love you, rang as bright as the city lights on Coruscant and as clear as a Nabooian waterfall. I love you.

       “I love you, too.” He heard your voice in a soft whisper, swelled up with emotion as you took in everything. Chills erupted down his spine; he couldn't quite tell if it was from the inky blanket being tugged across the sky as dusk descended into nightfall, or if it was the four word phrase that left your lips.

—

       “I cannot live without you,” Obi-Wan let out a shaky exhale, breath fanning across your face just slightly, your foreheads making contact in the lightest movements. You felt dizzy, in a dreamlike trance, for you had never been this close to him. You could see every horror he had survived in his glassy blue eyes, notice every perfect imperfection that blemished his skin and made him all the more real. In a moment, his face had become blurred as he closed the distance and finally, finally, his lips were on yours, and you connected in a long awaited, eternally sought after kiss. You could feel his hands, calloused but gentle, cupping your face, as your own fingers found their way to the nape of his neck, the kiss grew more fervent and needy, every rule you had ever lived by crumbling as you melted deeper into his touch.

       After a long moment, you broke away, breathless, your face still tantalizingly close to his.

       “I will never leave you, Obi-Wan,” your lips parted in a determined vow, a promise you would keep to your dying breath. The Jedi were dead, and yet you never felt more alive.

[kbsd]

not sure if you’ve answered this before, but what’s your process look like when you make an amv? i’m just curious and in constant awe of ppl who can make videos like you do :)

hello all!!! i have answered this before and i have a vid help tag with other asks i’ve gotten about stuff like this! but i’ve gotten several more messages along these lines so i’m just going to answer a bunch of them together (under a cut since i love to ramble about editing lol). i do just wanna say i’m definitely not the authority on video editing and obv everyone has their own techniques!

edit: i just finished typing all this up and it’s SO long so sorry in advance LMAO god bless anyone who reads this entire thing

so i work in news tv and we have a very specific workflow for writing scripts, sourcing video, producing, and editing. i’ve just applied that to making amvs! for every video i make, i copy the song lyrics into a google doc and adjust them to match the song i’ve cut (i often will trim songs for time and/or content purposes). then i start planning! i’ll mark down what clip i want to use for each lyric next to that line, and any sound bites i want to use (with episode numbers!). i’ll color code between video and sound bites and lyrics, so my scripts end up looking something like this (for my honeybee amv):

doing the planning ahead of time makes everything much easier when it’s a video that spans the whole show or involves a lot of sourcing, like honeybee or sports analogies. that way when i get to the actual editing process, i already know what i’m going to do and have a game plan. for videos like happy ending or believe it or not, where i’m mainly just pulling from a few episodes, i can just plan it in my head as opposed to writing it all down, and produce as i edit. obviously i do make in-the-moment decisions while editing—sometimes a shot doesn’t work the way i thought it would, or i go where the video takes me—but planning ahead definitely helps. i know some people use spreadsheets as well, with columns for lyrics, video clips, and sound bites if applicable. once you find a system that works, it actually goes pretty quickly.

as for sourcing clips themselves/finding clips within episodes, i talked about that here and kind of here. the short version is that transcripts are a must, and the supernatural wiki is hugely helpful by cataloguing all the hugs, prayers, phone calls, etc. in the show. gifmakers that tag episode numbers on their posts are your friends. it gets easier the more video you make—that’s another huge reason i make the google docs for each video (even the ones i plan in my head, i end up going back and making a loose script with episode notes just for reference). if i can’t remember where something is but i know i used it in another video, i can easily reference past scripts!

i also cut all my videos in the same project in premiere pro, so i can flip between them easily. instead of checking a past script, i can just go to the video sequence itself and copy the clip i’m looking for! this was especially helpful when i match cut together the 5x18 and 4x22 wall slam shots for my bestie video, and then stole it from myself for honeybee hahaha. at any given time i have at least 8 sequences open:

because of the sheer volume of videos i make, it’s worth it for me to download the entire show—i have all 327 episodes in HD, plus deleted scenes. if you think you’re only going to make a few videos, i’d start with scene packs. you can usually just google “destiel [or whatever ship/character you’re looking for] scene packs” and there will be any number of ones you can download. if you need other specific scenes, you can always download/torrent individual episodes or screen record netflix (that’s what i did before i got HD download links). i’m happy to share my links if you DM, but be warned it’s a lot of disk space (about 500GB on my hard drive). someone also compiled every destiel scene, downloadable here.

having every episode already loaded in premiere for all my projects also makes it a lot easier to source clips. once i use a clip in a video, i’ll put a marker on the episode file, so that after a while i have most of the important scenes/lines marked to easily find them. to give you an idea, this is my episode file in premiere for 12x10 lily sunder has some regrets (markers at destiel scenes, the car fight, hot girl cas, etc.). markers are the green tabs along the bottom:

premiere also lets you color code and name markers, so ONE DAY i will go back and color code them all. the ones above are all the same color, but in a perfect world, i’d have a myraid—for destiel shots like hugs, touches, looks; for important pieces of dialogue; for action shots; etc. but for now this works ok for me, so that’s a project for another time!

between detailed scripts, one giant premiere project, markers, the wiki, and my own memory, i have so many points of reference that i can usually find any clip i need in about 2 minutes max. sound bites are often harder to start out, or tiny specific shots i haven’t used before, and that’s when i turn to tumblr gifsets or beloved mutuals to crowdsource. but if you’re as obsessive about marking/keeping neat scripts as i am, it gets easier and easier with every video you make. that’s part of why i’m able to cut videos together so quickly. (also i want to stress i do this for a living and have to produce/edit a new piece for my show every day so i’m used to it. and compared to constantly updating content/sources and news that changes every day, 327 highly documented episodes that never change are much easier to handle hahaha)

this is all great for me since i make so many videos and plan to continue doing so, but if you’re only making a few, this level of work isn’t worth it imo. really it’s all about developing a system that works for you. whatever you do with episodes/sourcing, though, i cannot recommend planning things out in a script ahead of time enough. 

everything i just mentioned is producing, though. for the editing process, i usually do it in this order:

music first. any parts i want to cut, i make sure it all sounds smooth

then soundbites. i usually try to weave them into the lyrics—i have characters talk in breaks between lines or instrumental sections as much as possible. i’ll sometimes go so far as looped/extending an intsrumental part to make room for the soundbite i want there lol. if i do have dialogue over a line, i do the sound mixing/levels at this point as well to make sure everything is audible/one doesn’t overpower the other. (also i always include the video that goes with these bites when i drop them in, and decide later if i want to show the character speaking or have other clips cover the dialogue)

once i have all the audio locked in, then i bring in all my other video clips. sometimes i edit completely chronologically, sometimes jumping from section to section—it depends on the song or how i’m feeling

double check sound mixing. i usually listen to my videos through a few times, with headphones and without to make sure it’ll sound good no matter how people watch it

once i have picture and audio lock, i go through and color correct my clips. i’m basic and just use lumetri color in premiere, and usually just play with brightness, saturation, temperature, and tint until i like it

render and export! :)

i always have several audio tracks, but i try to keep my video tracks condensed. i’ll drop clips on a V2 level, and edit a section there, and drop the whole chunk down to V1 so i know it’s finished. that way when i leave and come back i can know where i left off/what’s done/etc. to give you an idea, this is the timeline for my what the hell video:

i always render as H.264 with high bitrate, and make sure to check “render at maximum depth” and “use maximum render quality” for the best quality. i’m sorry, but i don’t know what the equivalent options are in final cut, imovie, kdenlive, etc. i post on youtube mostly so i don’t have to sacrifice quality, but usually just using a lower bitrate will get you under the tumblr file size limit and it’ll still look good.

as for the anon who asked about “polishing”: first of all, thank you!! second of all, it’s in the details. all of this is a matter of taste and my own insanity, but here are some little things i always try to do:

after i color correct, i blur out any credits from the starts of episodes. i use gaussian blur for this, but really any blur tool works

as much as possible, i avoid clips where we see a character’s mouth move but don’t hear the words. in tv/film we call it “lip flap” and i just think it looks messy. also i’m trained to avoid it at all costs at work hahaha. it’s more for serious videos that this matters a lot to me (e.g. i think i did a really good job eliminating lip flap in my happy ending amv)—for comedy videos i don’t sweat it as much

i put audio fades on the start and end of every single audio clip i use, even if i don’t think i need it, to make sure everything sounds smooth

i use markers for timing, especially in action-y videos like what the hell. i’ll put a marker on the clip i’m using at the exact moment a punch lands, and in the song on the beat. if i have the magnet/snap in timeline tool on i can just easily snap them together instead of having to spend time finagling it

this is such a small thing but i dip/cut to black for a tiny bit at the start and end of every video. this way if i post with tumblr video player, there’s black between the loops, and it gives you a beat before the video restarts. i do this even on videos i post on youtube, just because i think it looks nicer/more professional

this is 1,500 words so i’m going to stop myself before i pull something. if you have follow-up questions feel free to ask and i’ll continue to add them to the vid help tag, but any more questions about sourcing clips or my process in general i’ll just link this post going forward. anyone who made it this far, i am sending to a telepathic kiss. thank you for reading and happy editing!

[interstellarrambles]

I’ve never requested anything from anyone but I’m in desperate need for a billy x goth!reader. Idk just how he noticed her in school cuz she is the only goth person and always asks her out and they flirt but she always rejects him until one day she agrees. Idk if that makes sense but thank u :)

a/n: so I dont know how to feel about this, I might edit and come and change it because I'm not sure of the ending, but if you like it, let me know! I tried to make it sweet at the end but this is definitely out of character for Billy, but I'm soft for him so idc. @savvy7392 I really really really hope you like this im sorry it took ages

harsh, confident and undeniably cool: everyone at Hawkins High knew not to fuck with you - you'd forged your own path in previous years and showed no signs of slowing down any time soon. there was just something about you that made people want to simply observe from the sidelines. known for dark makeup, brash music and taking no one's bullshit, you were somewhat of a divisive figure: people either really hated you and tried to make your life misery (to not much avail) or desperately wanted to befriend you.

somehow, along the way you'd made friends with the likes of Robin and by association, Steve, but you were happy with your small group of friends and didn't really care all that much for your hometown and what (or who) it had to offer.

therefore, when a fresh faced californian boy toy entered Hawkins High, you couldn't deny there was a certain allure to his cool demeanour and newness. unluckily for you, Billy found his place with the current popular kids sucking up to him and soon the rumours about you began to surface again. whenever you caught his eyes within the first few days of his arrival, his gaze would be quickly diverted by Tina or Carol as they glared at you or threw insults. that's why you decided it really wasn't worth getting involved with Billy Hargrove, even if he did have an amazing taste in music.

but God did you misunderstand the lengths to which this boy would go for your attention.

the first few days, Billy would opt for a smile sent your way, enough to make you weak at the knees but not quite enough to make you wander over to him. group projects would be announced in class and when he tried to subtly join you, you'd amble to the opposite end of the room to be with a bunch of kids you didn't even know, just to avoid him. and Billy knew you did it on purpose since after sitting down with your respective groups, you caught his eye and simply winked at him.

almost dropping his pencil in surprise, he was genuinely unable to believe you had successfully ignored him in such a blatant way. smirking back at his gaping mouth and sparklingly amused eyes, you simply laughed it off, sparking a conversation up with the boy next to you as easily as you had rejected Billy. shaking his head in disbelief, he made a promise to himself he'd make you friends with him if it was the last thing he did.

another day, you arrived at school with a too-short black skirt on and Billy felt his heartrate quicken at simply catching one glimpse of you, his blood rushing just a little faster than usual. he would never have the guts to tell you, but he absolutely adored the way you dressed and how good it made you look.

unexpectedly, you treated him to an actual wave this morning, something that fuelled his pursuits. all day, he pestered you in class, forcing those who would usually take the seat next to you to move elsewhere so he could be closer to you. deep blue and bright with attraction, his eyes would drop down to your thighs and the way they looked so amazing in the skirt you were wearing. desperately, he wanted to say something about it to you, but he knew he'd trip over his words; already he had blushed intensely when you caught him staring, though at least he could tell you were enjoying his gaze.

rather annoyingly, you did like the attention, smiling to yourself when he would ignore other people so he could walk you to your next class even if he was rambling to himself the whole time. curls falling in his face and a cheesy grin playing on his cheeks were enough to make butterflies swarm your insides and you had a terrible time trying to hide it.

in reality, you really didn't want to be cruel since it appeared he didn't really have anyone that cared about him much past the muscles and cute eyes, but you also were not about to walk straight into a heartbreak with both eyes open. billy was definitely a bad influence, even to you, the resident goth of Hawkins High, and whether he meant it or not, you knew you would eventually get hurt.

the next time, he plagued your locker with letters and notes and waited next to it, a permanent grin locked onto his features.

a red shirt clung to his biceps, tan skin visible due to the multiple buttons left undone and a silver chain dangling and catching in the light. strong and slightly overpowering yet undeniably attractive, his unique smell of cologne and liquor and maybe a little something else invaded your private space, making you way too nervous to deal with him this late in the day.

weeks of notes and smiles and blue eyes meeting yours way too often had weakened your resolve and if it didn't disgust you so much you would be able to admit Billy was slowly turning your heart to mush. you couldn't listen to mötley crüe without thinking of him and every time you picked out an outfit, you wondered if he'd think you were beautiful or if he'd like the band on your shirt. his compliments and soft gestures like driving you home and giving you his jacket when it was raining (even if it didn't fit your look) had grown on you massively. now you would even go as far to say you enjoyed his company.

"heya baby girl," he drawled, the curl of his plump lips breathtaking in the worst ways, "fancy coming along with me for the evening?"

even though he exuded pure confidence, you didn't miss the way he resembled a kicked puppy when you smiled and responded, "I've got assignments pretty boy, no thanks," shovelling the letters into your bag and turning on your heel to walk home.

unfortunately, this wasn't quite good enough for Billy, hence why he followed quickly, his voice echoing after you, "what's with the ignoring me constantly y/n? you stand at parties and complain about the music and watch me all night and yet you walk away when I come up to you. I've seen you staring at me in class sometimes or at lunch when I'm not bothering you and whenever I catch your eye, you leave. you watch me all the time and yet every time I think you'll come over, you ignore me. if you don't like me, that's okay but I need to know now."

cheeks burning with embarrassment, your eyes dropped to the ground as he pulled you away into privacy. you didn't know what to say.

"billy..." you managed, still unable to meet his chaotic gaze as he stood only centimetres away, breathing hard while he awaited your response.

"what is it? just give me a reason." he almost pleaded, relaxing slightly when you gave him a smile and finally met his eyes.

"do you realise how badly your friends hate me? because I dress weird and I listen to music they don't and I've always been different and you hate that they don't like me. I can't spend five minutes with you in public before you get nervous, I'm sick of you hiding me away! you're fine with me unless there's someone around and I don't understand it and it is tearing me apart," your outburst pulled at him, making him feel terrible for calling you out prematurely.

"I like you Billy but I can't deal with that. I like my little life of listening to bad music with my friends and dreaming of getting away one day and hanging at the mall with Steve and Robin. I love sitting in your car and sharing those moments you don't let anyone else see. I do. but I wont let you pretend I don't exist."

shifting on your feet slightly, you realised how ridiculous the whole thing was and all you wanted was for billy to scoop you up in his arms and make the world better again. you wanted him to let you do his eyeliner and you wanted to feel his hands on your hips, his touch driving you wild. you wanted him to kiss you right now in the hallway and tell everyone else to screw off.

but life isn't a dream.

so you settled for Billy whispering his sorrys and offering you his hand, which was enough to nearly make you cry since he would never usually be so open in public. content, you followed him as he led you to his car, all the while promising he'd change things for you, only stopping to talk properly when you reached it.

"promise me something Billy?" after confirmation from him, you continued, leaning against the hood of his car, him stood only centimetres away "you'll never be ashamed of me?"

"never doll, there's nothing to be ashamed of," he leaned in, holding either side of your face ever so gently, and when the kiss finally broke, he whispered, "now how about a date?"

"okay pretty boy, you name it."

that was a good enough start.

[whump-town]

Route 66

(done right-- welcome to my version of Route 66 with angst and whump because I like to beat Hotch around... cause I love him. Buckle in, fasten your seat belts, and, for the love of God people, remember to keep your hands and feet inside vehicle at all times...)

Aaron Hotchner sits bolt upright in his bed. For a moment, all he knows is the cold sweat drying on his skin and the scent of musky settled dust. Noticeably, this isn’t his house or even his bed. The sheets across his bare legs are scratchy, irritating his skin. He can’t focus on the sensation eating his legs up, too busy trying to keep his measly dinner down. 

His racing heart and nausea tightening his throat are making it a difficult feat.

“Hotch?”

The bed lamp on the nightstand beside the other bed clicks on and slowly, his brain strings together the course of the last few days. Tennessee, three dead kids, and another missing. No cooling-off period. All dead within the first 24 hours. The hotel. 

“Hotch, are you okay?” The other figure-- not Dave, which is weird because he remembers talking to Dave before he fell asleep. The older man had asked something similar to the voice now but inquiring if he needed anything before they went to sleep. “Hotch?”

He snaps out of his thoughts, grounded by the hand placed on his shoulder. 

It’s Prentiss.  

He throws the blankets off of his legs and appreciates when she stumbles out of his way. His knees buckle underneath his feet but he throws a hand out and catches himself on the nightstand. For a moment, Emily reaches out for him. Wanting to allow him to lean into her but she hesitates. He manages to stand on his own even if his knees bow from his weight. 

She gives him space and he manages to get to the bathroom by himself. Sparing her the sight of him falling limply to his knees as he expels the contents of his stomach into the inside of a hotel toilet. She can still hear his weak gags from the other room.

As much as she would like to invade his personal space and smother him with remedies, she has to fight that. Hotch cares about his personal space and while it will make her feel momentarily better that she’s helped him, he’ll carry around the guilt of being weak for a month or better. So, instead, she slips a cardigan over her tank top and waits for him to either stop vomiting or for the knock on their door that signals someone else has heard the noise.

Whichever comes first. 

He falls silent. Too silent. 

Whatever part of her brain that screams for his personal space is overpowered by the intense fear that births itself in the form of panic and a tight uncomfortable feeling in her throat. “Are you okay?” She knocks her fist against the door before peeking her head around. Relief flooding her body as she finds him propped up between the toilet and the bathtub, his head leaning against the cold off-white walls. 

“Do you need anything? Water?” 

At just the mention of putting something near his mouth, his stomach twists bitterly. He shakes his head. 

She leans against the doorframe, “is there anything I can do?”

He shakes his head, unable to trust his voice.

That was Wednesday.

Emily tells Dave, her hands shaking a little as she explains the whole situation. It feels like a betrayal of his trust. People get sick and it’s not like they’re an exception to that. If anything, they sick more often that normal people. Stress suppresses the immune system.

“It’s probably nothing,” she admits, head ducked from his peering eyes. She picks insistently at her nails, which tells Dave all he really needs to know on the matter. It isn’t nothing. Whatever Emily saw, and whatever she hasn’t told him in full, bothered her. Given Emily and Hotch’s strange relationships-- at one another throats and then the best of friends-- he reckon, it is bad. 

“I’ll talk to him,” Dave says with a sigh. His head already hurts just thinking about the loops that boy is going to make him jump through. He chuckles to himself. Boy. Aaron Hotchner isn’t much of a boy anymore. Although, it’s not hard to see that knuckle-headed recruit from twenty some years ago. 

Unfortunately, Dave, also, knows exactly what she’s talking about. Just yesterday he’d followed a nose-diving, clearly distraught Aaron Hotchner into the men’s bathroom.

“Aaron?” Dave gives him a moment. Waits until the gagging stops and he hears the sound of lazily, uncoordinated movement as Hotch tries and fails to pull himself back to his feet. Calling the younger man’s name out again, he pushes the stall open so that he can see in better. “You okay, son?”

Hotch is curled into himself, head tilted back against the cool plastic of the stall wall. His dark hair is haloed out around his head, sticking up in every direction. Slowly his eyes drag up to Dave, surrounded by the dark bags and the light brown of his iris’ accented by the aggravated vessels of his eye. That answers one question: he sure as hell isn’t sleeping.

“Fine,” Hotch rasps, voice cracking around the soreness lodged in his throat. “I’m fine.” He pulls himself upright. With an audience, standing is mandatory. He’s not going to be on his knees in front of anyone. With a muffled cough, he throws out a fumbling hand to connect with the commode handle. Flushing the meager ex-contents of his stomach.

On his feet once again, he leans into the door for a moment. The world attempting to give out from beneath his feet.

Dave reaches out and touches his elbow, wrapping his hand around his arm. He’s a little too worried to leave just yet. “You sure about that,” Dave asks. “You don’t seem alright. “The glare that comes his way is concentrated and while it doesn’t scare Dave into leaving Hotch alone, it does assure him that Hotch is already doing better.

As it turns out, “doing better” was temporary. 

“I told you,” Hotch states calmly, his voice the picture of calm and steady. Controlled. “I’m fine.” He keeps his gaze on the whiskey he’s gently spinning around his glass. 

“You’re getting old,” Dave brushes it off. He pours Hotch another two fingers of the whiskey, not really asking just leaning over and pouring. Hotch doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t validate the statement. “We’re not as young as we once were,” Dave sighs. There’s a melancholy that settles over the room. Dave thinks about that lanky kid he picked up in Seattle. He had no way of knowing that kid would turn into the man in front of him today. A trusted friend. A son.

Dave lets the heavy taste of the whiskey settle on his tongue, shaking his head as he fails to think of anything but the last few years. Of the trouble brought into their lives.

Hotch cups the tumbler in his hands, looking down into the amber liquid. He’s not sure how to say it, really. The thing is, he knows something is wrong. But… he glances at Dave, the older man smirking as he raises his glass to his lips, maybe it’s just in his head. 

He’s having nightmares. Not the usual ones, although, those aren’t all that normal either. The thing is, he’s dreaming of Haley. He hasn’t dreamt of Haley in years. He never dealt with those emotions and that trauma the right way but that typically reflects itself more around the anniversaries of the attacks. Not now. Not without reason.

He’s right. He just doesn’t know that yet.

“You okay, man?” 

Hotch sticks to a very predictable routine. When he deviates from it, it’s still not that crazy. It’s 11:30, and like always, he comes down from his office for his third cup of coffee. Today, his fingers are digging into the pale flesh of his temple. More alarming than the pallor of his skin is the blatant pain etched across his forehead. Completely out of character.

“Hotch?”

It’s like he doesn’t even hear Morgan the first time. Now he startles slightly, flinching as Emily and Morgan both step into the breakroom beside him. Absently, he watches as Emily pulls the mug of coffee from his hands. Nothing more than a grunt of annoyance gracing his lips when she pours it down the sink. 

“You’re going to give yourself an ulcer,” she states, filling it, instead, with cold water from the tap. “Besides, you look like you need a nap.”

Morgan envies the relationships she has with their boss. Dying Hotch wouldn’t let Morgan anywhere near his coffee. “When was the last time you slept anyways,” Morgan asks, tucking his arms against his chest. He’s preparing for a pushback. For shields and that steely look in his friends eyes. 

Because that’s what’s normal.

“Last night,” Hotch says instead, taking his mug of water from Emily with a frown. 

There are no shields. 

“For more than a few hours, man,” Morgan amends. “Seven or eight hours not four.” 

The water still taste like coffee-- so like shit. However, it’s probably better on his empty stomach. Besides, water isn’t as cruel coming back up. As far as Morgan’s question goes, he can’t remember. Not recently, that’s for sure. “Don’t you have work to do,” he grunts, raising an eyebrow.

That’s Hotch. 

Morgan looks him up and down one last time before nodding. 

Emily eyes him a moment to long and Morgan shakes his head, his suspensions confirmed. 

“Drink the water,” Emily states, following Morgan out. 

Wednesday he spaces out during a meeting. 

It’s not pressing even though it’s at the round table. They’re just bored and looking for something interesting to do-- so Dave drags him out of his office. He’s been hiding out there, only coming out when he has to. Secluded to the dark cool space.  

His eyes seemed glassy and if he were anyone else, they might jokingly inquire about his sobriety. It’s insensitive now, wrong. By now, it’s impossible to deny that something’s wrong.

“Hotch?’

Palm pressed into his eye-socket, he’s trying to swallow down the nausea creeping up his throat. “Hmm,” he grunts, clenching his teeth tightly to refrain from wincing.

“Are you alright?” Reid. He’s sitting beside Hotch, leaning close to the larger man. Nearly pressed into his side, his sore side. Reid watches a vein in his forehead jump so he puts some more space between them. Shying away for a moment. “I can…” he clears his throat nervously. “I have, uhm, I have Tylenol.” He stutters, eyes catching the other’s now that the low hum of their voices has cut through the mostly silent room. “If you--If--If you want that.”

Hotch gently reaches down and knocks a knuckle against his thigh. They meet eyes and Reid feels himself calm immediately. “That would--” Hotch has to stop and clear his throat. “Please.” 

Reid nods his head, standing ducking his gaze from the other’s. He’s got a mission, a way he can help, and he’s content for the moment.

Hotch knows the Tylenol isn’t going to help, nothing has, but it’ll make Reid feel good to have something to do. That, within itself, is good enough.

Until it isn’t.

He wakes with a startle. The breath in his lungs effectively knocked out. A whimper leaves his lips, twisting in agony at the pain down his sternum into his abdomen. Slowly, the black of his vision patters out but he’s left covered in a cold sweat and shaking. 

Panting, he sits up, holding his side with his hand as he does so. Shit… and it’s ten o’clock. “J-Jessica?” he’s shaking so bad that he has to lean back against the couch. “Hey,” he rasps. “Is, ugh, is Jack up?”

He’s not but that just leaves more time for Jessica to fret. She’s noticed things are off too and after Hotch promised to be home last night… he’d worried her. He’s still worrying her. 

“I’m okay,” he rasps. “Just…” his lip twitches as he just stares into the carpet of his office. It’s getting so hard to keep up this ruse. To keep lying. He wants to cave. For someone to just take care of him so this madness can end but… he doesn’t want to burden anyone. Not when Jessica already does so much. “I just lost track of time, Jess. I’m sorry. I, ugh, fell asleep on the couch in my office.”

He closes his eyes, head tilted back. He’s still exhausted which is too exhausted to say anything when Jessica lays into him about spending too much time at the office. “It’s gonna be the death of you Aaron,” she whispers, the fear in her voice thick. “You can’t do that to this boy,” she adds. “Not to any of us.”

Us.

He… He hadn’t considered that.

Us.

“I--” he squints at his phone, frowning at the Amber Alert he sees. “I gotta go, Jess.” At least he feels guilty about it. “I’ll talk to you later…”

Thin ice but when isn’t he?

Standing is… it’s really hard. He keeps one hand pressed to the wall as he walks, each step a little too unsteady. Pulling in a deep breath he straightens his back out and walks into the conference room. The other’s glance up but no better than to look for too long.

Mercifully.

He starts to struggle to breath, his body shaking against his will. The room is freezing, leaving his skin tight and pained with the goosebumps raised across his arms. He needs to sit down but if he sits down he won’t be able to get back up. He can’t know for certain, his breathing is labored and his vision is swimming-- he’s got to get out of this room. “E--Excuse me.”

His shoulders slump and his roll back into his head.

“Hotch!”

part 2 is in progress but you can still yell at me about the cliff hanger down below if you’d like :)... I mean, a comment is a comment

[couchpotatoaniki]

The books that you posted about really intrigued me. And the books seemed really cool, I was wondering if you have any book recommendations? For any genre.

:0 Someone's asking me about book recs? This has never happened before I'm scared 😂😂 So, I suppose I should warn you that a lot of these are fantasy. Also, thank you for taking an interest 🥺🥺

This is gonna be loooooong, so continue to read more. Also, all the links are for the Goodreads pages so you could read the blurb and reviews if you're interested. Word of warning though, these are all of my opinions, so if they don't work for you--that's okay. Tastes are fickle :))

Also, if you have any book recommendations for me or want to talk about books, then please feel free to pop in my inbox because I LOVE discussing and getting excited about books.

Books that I've already read:

The School for Good and Evil series by Soman Chainani--there are six books in total (seven if you include the handbook), but this was one I read when I was around 13/14. It's kinda like a fairytale retelling, where there are two schools; one for good and the other evil. It has a lot of references to folktales and discusses the divides between good and evil, girls and boys, and young and old. It's a story about self-discovery and I just love the characters--especially their relationships and dynamics with one another. Netflix is actually making a movie about the first book and it's going to come out sometime in 2022. Hopefully they don't screw it up 😔😔

A Thousand Nights by E. K. Johnson--I know this may not be for everyone, but I love this book. There is a sequel that I haven't gotten around to reading, but this one specifically was one I enjoyed quite a bit. It's like a retelling of the folktale One Thousand and One Nights (commonly known as Arabian Nights) but with more a fantasy twist to it. It's slow-paced, but it has so much meaning behind it. It paints such a beautiful picture in your head with both the imagery but also has a subtle feminist strength to it through its deliberate choice of words and description--not to mention it has a very strong feel to the pre-Islamic Middle East setting as compared to other retellings like The Wrath and the Dawn, which is much more suited to be classed as YA than this (by no means is that derogatory to any of the books, but it's just to explain how they're so different despite being based off the same folktale). Just read it, it's honestly amazing.

The Sin Easter's Daughter series by Melinda Salisbury--Okay, funny story, I actually read the second book, The Sleeping Prince, first by accident. A problem I have with a lot series, is something commonly known as second-book syndrome--as in, I'm not particularly a fan of the second book in a trilogy series. Once I realised my mistake and read the first book, The Sin Eater's Daughter, I found that I wasn't as in love with it as I was the second, so I thought that might've been just because of the way I read it. But when I read the reviews, I realised that a lot of other people thought the same as me despite having read it in order; the second one was more loved than the first. Unfortunately, I haven't read the third book yet, but I feel like The Sleeping Prince was enough to put it on this list. Once again, this is fantasy with tones of the Pied Piper in it, and there is so much more I could say, but again it would be more about the second book than the first so I won't spoil it for ya. But just sayin', if you wanted to read the second book as a stand-alone, you can do since I myself kinda figured out what was going on and filled in the gaps by myself. This is probably because the first and second book follow different characters (and I assume it switches in the third book, but again, I haven't read it).

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller--now, this GODSEND of a book is one that I rate highly. It's based off the Iliad (so it's heavy on the Greek mythology), though it follows Patroclus rather than Achilles throughout the whole book. If you don't know anything about the story, then I won't spoil it--just know that I knew the story of the Iliad and was in this state of dread the entire time 'cAUSE THERE'S SO MUCH FORSHADOWING. All I can say is that I love the dynamic between the two guys and the story is so heartbreakingly beautiful. Bless 'em 😔😔 But a friend of mine found the writing a little bit confusing (she still loves it) since you kinda have to read between the lines--it isn't blunt. Also, one word of advise I'd like to give on good stories, and specifically plot twists, is that the shock factor may occur the first time you read it but what makes a good story or plot twist is the way it makes you feel--it should still be positive no matter how many times you re-read it. Shock factor isn't everything, so when I read this there was no shock factor for me (I knew what was going to happen from me previous knowledge) yet this book still kept me gripped onto it. I didn't loose interest--and that's part of the reason why I love it.

Caraval series by Stephanie Garber--I put this on the list because of the progression within the books, despite it being fast-paced. Book one follows one of the two sisters during the Caraval who is accompanied by a guy and the whole description was very magical--kinda alluding to the magic of Legend himself (the Caraval Master). In it, there is mentions of what kind of world it is, but it doesn’t really get explained until book two, which follows the other sister to find out Legend’s real identity for a certain reason that I won’t disclose ‘cause it’s a spoiler. This expands a lot more about how the present came to be as it was and also explains a little more about the background for the major characters. Although I’m in the early chapters of the third book and so can’t really comment on it, all I can say is that so far, it brings the two stories more together than they were before as it switches viewpoints between the sisters; I feel like that’s also why I don’t hate the second book in this trilogy, because the first one seems more like a prequel to set the scene while the second feels like the beginning of the actual story, and the third would be it’s conclusion. Okay, so, fair warning, there is a lot of metaphors which mix senses (for example, describing an action/emotion as a colour/image/taste) and I understand not everyone likes that writing style, which is completely okay; I just happen to like it.

Daughter of the Pirate King series by Tricia Levenseller--the main girl, I feel, is either a love-or-hate character. Personally, I don't particularly mind her, since she's just fun to read. There are parts where she tells you just how awesome she is but can't show you because she would give her act away (she's pretending to be a prisoner on a ship to steel a map) but if it was in any other scenario, I would despise that. I suppose my plus points would be for how she reacts internally to what she's doing, you see the whole process going on in her mind--and it isn't perfect, mind you, but the fact nothing is perfect makes it better. Though I could see why people would think she was annoying or the romance was very fast-paced (I prefer a slow-burn, but I don't mind this either). One thing I will say is that there are two characters (one in particular) that I love the dynamics of. Also, there's pirates. I don't think I need to explain further on that point.

Books I'm in the middle of reading that seem pretty cool so far:

The Cruel Prince by Holly Black--I'm halfway through this book and so far I'm really enjoying it. The dynamic between the main girl and her nemesis is just unlike many enemies-to-lovers I've ever read (including online) because they just hate each other so much. Like, she's not gonna be seduced by him and get into a really toxic relationship where her feelings are being taken advantage of. She's grown into being smart, she's grown into being skilled, she's not a love-struck idiot that makes impulsive, nonsensical choices. There are two more books after this and apparently it gets better and the main characters find some ground to not be toxic (again, not sure since I haven't read it myself). Now, this is probably going to get me a lot of hate, but I'm not a fan of a certain popular YA author who has a very popular book series that involves fae. I find this a much more likeable alternative since the faerie are not humans with superpowers and pointy ears. There is actual description, actual difference between the humans and the fae, different rules they live by, two examples being that humans can't eat fae food otherwise [redacted] and the other being the fae are immortal (the kind that doesn't age, but can be killed). There's consistency in the world building and the characters are not too overpowered--and this itself just set above all the other faerie books I've read thus far.

Lost Boy by Christina Henry--this is a Peter Pan retelling that I'm still in the first half of the book. Not got much to say except for the characters are even at such a point are distinct with each other (I can already tell that Peter Pan is a Psychotic Asshole™). It's very impactful, but be warned, it's dark and violent too. I mean, when I say Peter Pan is a Psychotic Asshole™, I mean it with every fibre of my being. And it is a very good origin story to Captain Hook, who you begin to empathise with quite a bit even early on within the book. I also like a few other books from the same author since she delves quite a bit into dark fantasy and story-retellings which I personally adore, but I feel like this one is a good starting point. Either this, or The Girl in Red which is Red Riding Hood is bi and goes on a murder-spree.

The Archived by V. E. Schwab--I've actually got a couple of this author's books but I decided to put this one on because so far I'm enjoying it so far. The atmosphere of the story is very eerie and it gives beginning-of-a-horror-movie vibes. So far I haven't really gotten into the whole thing with the love interests, but there is some in there. I just really enjoyed the whole worldbuilding, the setting and feel of the story was awesome, the writing was really good, and I love the little anecdotes that are put in between Mac and Da (her grandfather). Though I can see why the switching from tenses would be confusing for some, I just really liked it. Again, not much to say because I haven't gotten too far into the story, but so far, it's pretty great.

Girls of Paper and Fire by Natasha Ngan--oh boy. Now, this book is one I would recommend so far but it needs to be said that it is hard to read. Not because the writing was bad or the plot was crap--no, the writing is really good and the plot is very interesting. It's hard because of the themes that are being addressed within it. I'm not gonna sugar-coat it, it mentions a LOT of sexual harassment, kidnapping, lack-of consent. However, although there are a few books in which this is romanticised, this is definitely NOT one of them. In fact, you feel really bad for the main character and I even felt like taking a break to come to terms with what was being said or described, but this is a story where the main girl does what she can to fight against it. Usually, I skip past the author's notes at the beginning but lucky I read this one because it gave me an understanding of why this was written--the author had been through a similar situation and wanted to raise awareness for any girls currently going through anything remotely close to this situation. It was nice to see that this was something that was being spoken about and I'm so proud of the author for speaking up about her experiences and encouraging others to speak up as well.

Circe by Madeline Miller--if you've already read Song of Achilles and enjoyed it, this was written by the same author and follows a character called Circe. She is actually a side-character from The Odyssey by Homer, so--again--Greek mythology is heavily present in this. I actually haven't gotten around to reading it but I've been promised that this was amazing, and speaks about feminism and females themselves in a world as patriarchal and oppressive as Ancient Greece (let's be honest, they were extremely sexist)

It's Not About the Burqa by various authors, edited by Mariam Khan--this is the only non-fiction book I have on this list because I don't read non-fiction all that much. Reading books, for me, is escaping from reality so reading this genre is going against the main reason I read in the first place. However, that being said, the topic it discusses is very near and dear to my heart as it is part of my identity, who I am as a person. This book, folks, is about Muslim women. It's a compilation of essays written by said women which each tackle different topics regarding Muslim women, ranging from religious dress, representation, mental health, stereotyping, feminism within Islam, expectations, modesty, sexuality, marriage and divorce, and more. One line that instantly hit me was "When was the last time you heard a Muslim woman speak for herself without a filter?" And I realised it was true--that most of the crap I heard about my own people, my fellow Muslim women, are either from men or non-Muslims or (in many cases) both. Reading these really opened my eyes to how we were actually being treated; how our hijabs were being used as a fashion trend rather than a religious observance; how our communities disapprove of behaviours that deviate from what we're expected to be, and the press and state being oppressive and racist towards us. I knew about most of this stuff but it really put into words (quite literally) how severe it is and had made me realise how some of the things I believed were good (like increased representation of Muslims in advertisement for beauty and fashion) were actually only short-term things at face value (like how barely any of the models or designers are actual Muslims and how the hijab, abaya, and other religious clothing were supposed to show how in Islam a woman is not valued by her physical beauty but for her personality, her intelligence, her love for her religion). This in and of itself is a bit of a rant from my part, but I really want people to read this book and understand our voices and our views from our own mouth than through someone else's interpretation off of some half-assed search on the internet. I would seriously recommend people to read it because it is such an important issue to at least try to understand.

There's so many more book that I've heard a lot of praise from that I have but haven't read yet or don't have and am planning to get in the future when my wallet recovers from me recent spending because boy is it HURT. I'll be posting about them

[snarkwriteswrasslin]

alpha - drew m / roman r. [m]

Note:

Okay, so I’ve seen a few of these floating around now and then and I know that as a reader, I personally enjoyed the experience. And that little showdown between Roman and Drew really... Got to me and lives in my head rent free. My original idea for this was so much different than what this is going to shape up to be, but honestly, I feel like it works better this way. As much as I dislike even thinking Randy Orton’s name. Adding that particular variable into the mix made this a lot smoother than my original idea.

I’m actually really excited about this. It’s a choose your own smutty ending. I think the first person I saw trying this was @glowrioustrash​ and it was last year, for Halloween, I think? I enjoyed reading that, so I kinda wanted to try my own hand at it then. I just never got around to it. I even asked them if it was okay if I did it, back then, I think? Anyway... Last night’s Smackdown just gave me ample inspo to FINALLY get off my ass and try it, and make it a part of my year-long smut one shot series. Bet ya’ll thought I completely forgot about those, huh? Well I didn’t. So... here we are.

This part is the beginning to both of the smutty parts I’m going to write for this, so it’ll be linked on either post and either post will be linked here, once I have them all done and posted on the blog.

LIFE EDIT: Eventually, loves... I’ll get around to posting the smutty conclusions to both men. When I do, those will be linked to this post.

Enjoy this teaser, hopefully?

HUGE SHOUTOUTS TO : @wrestlingismyguiltypleasure and @schizoauthoress​ (your suggestions and that helpful input at the end, ahhh.. i owe you my life)  as well as @wardl0w because I have probably bugged the living hell out of all three of them as I attempted this and they were seriously huge helps to me with this.

Characters / Pairings:

Drew McIntyre / Female!omega reader - version 1, coming soon

Roman Reigns / Female!omega reader - version 2, coming soon

Warnings:

This is an attempt at me, writing alpha/omega again. So there will be knotting, mate bite marks, etc. In addition to that, there will be smut in the second part of these, whichever man you guys choose. There’s also hints of unwanted confrontation between Orton and Reader to start this off with and it gets... handsy, ewwww. But I had to have a way to work in both guys and make it work, so.. here we are. There’s also gonna be swearing. If I need to issue any other warnings those will be on the follow up posts.

Tagging:

@kyleoreillysknee​ @rampagewriting​ @writertoo18​ @thatnerdwriter​ @wrestlingismyguiltypleasure​ @chasingeverybreakingwave​ @waywardwrestlewritingwaif​ @sassymox​ @champbucks​ @hungmanhorsecarriage​ @wardl0w​ @ryantaylorgirl​ @dilfmoxley​ @hotyeehawman​ @darbysallin​ @gabbynorth98​ @bec0m​

@linziland13​ @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch​ 

Other Stuff:

[ about my writing - masterlist - tag list doc ]

[ Roman ] or [ Drew ]

The scent was absolutely intoxicating. So understandably, when it filled my nose for the fourth time that night, I found myself standing. Making my way out into the hallway. Shoving people out of my way. Now, I wasn’t running or anything, because my grandma always told me it’s better to be chased than do the chasing but… I was power-walking.

And, as per usual, not paying a lick of attention to where I was going or my surroundings. I was solely focused on this mysterious scent because deep down inside, I knew exactly where it was going to lead me and damn it, I might put up one hell of a show about being independent, but heat cycles are hell and yeah, maybe I get lonely as of late. Maybe I’ve been longing to find my Alpha. Maybe I want the comfort of knowing that I’m not doomed to be forever alone and I do have a mate out there, somewhere...

It hit me then, around the same time that my thighs absolutely flooded with slick and I started to feel all woozy. I hadn’t taken suppressants. In fact, I had somehow managed to completely forget about my heat cycle’s speedy approach.

I mean, between moving and getting called up to the main roster, life has been a whirlwind for me lately. And tonight I hadn’t taken them before I came to the arena because I was excited. Tonight was my first night on the main roster. And in the excitement of that, I’d forgotten my suppressants… again.

To be fair, I haven’t ever really adhered to taking them steadily to begin with, so there you go...I never really had anyone constantly riding me to do so growing up. I was mostly left to my own devices, free to do what I wanted and make my own choices. So, yeah, this isn’t my first rodeo with a surprise heat cycle.

I shoved all the thoughts out of my noisy mind, pausing my walk to attempt focusing. Centering myself so that I could really fix on the scent and the direction it came from. And in my distraction, that gave Orton the perfect opportunity to slither up and corner me before I even had a chance to properly respond.

“Doll.”

“I have a name, you prick.” I rolled my eyes as I shrank away, nose wrinkling at the oversaturation of his scent as it invaded my nose and momentarily drowned out that heavenly aroma I’d been attempting to follow before I got distracted like a dumb bitch.

He chuckled, putting himself closer to me. Leaning down a little. And the audacity of this fucking man, he even had the nerve to reach up and move my hair away from my neck, his nose burying there as a lewd growl rose up from the depths of his chest.

I shoved at him and cleared my throat. “I was kind of in a hurry, do you mind knocking it the fuck off, jackass? Go sniff someone else, ew.”

“C’mon now, hon… You know what’s happening to you. You know you need me.”

“Like I need a bullet wound to the head, Orton. Fuck off.” I tried to duck beneath his arm but his other hand caught on my hip, keeping me pinned between him and the wall. By now, the scent of him was so overpowering and gross that my stomach was lurching. My consolation thought as I began to panic a little and tried to think of a quick way out of this confrontation was that maybe if I just threw up on the asshole, he’d get away.

Somehow, I didn’t see that happening. Orton doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who picks up on cues, verbal or non-verbal. Likes to assert that dominance he fancies himself to have.

He chuckled again.

Then suddenly, the scent was back and it was overpowering his stench. ,, Thank God.” I thought to myself, daring to mutter the words under my breath. I found myself peering over Randy’s shoulder, waiting on whoever the intoxicating scent I’d been following originally to show themselves.

And when he stepped out behind Randy and into view… If I thought I was wet before, whew… I was absolutely flooded beyond all hope now. I swallowed hard, biting my lip, locking eyes with him. Randy seemed to realize that my attention was wandering and this of course, only made him up his game.

His hips brushed boldly against mine and I cringed, pretending to gag when I felt the way Orton strained at his trunks. At the moment, Randy was completely and blissfully unaware as to what fate awaited him if he were stupid enough to turn around and honestly?

I’m enough of a bitch that I was hell bent on not alerting Randy to it, either. Instead, I took a few shaky breaths and stared up at him defiantly. “Why do I need you, Orton? They make vibrators bigger than that fun sized Tootsie Roll I’ve heard you’re packing every day of the week. I don’t need you. Or anyone.”

I knew that part was a lie because as all this was going on, my body was in a literal frenzy at the sight of my Alpha. My skin was tight, I could barely breathe. I was doing good to think straight and form words, honestly. I was a split second away from being overwhelmed. Because thanks to my Alpha showing themselves, my heat cycle went from a mild annoyance to almost intolerable within a split second.

I needed to get away from Randy. I needed to get somewhere and calm down. But I wanted to stay exactly where I was, curious to see if my Alpha was here for the reason I’d ventured out of hair and makeup in the first place.

So far, all he was doing was standing there. Watching my little confrontation with Randy. The tension in his body quickly gave away his feelings on the matter, however. And that’s what kept me quiet. Allowed me to let Randy keep digging his own damn grave.

Because it amused me.

And I needed to know that my Alpha was actually a good Alpha. I needed to know he’d protect me, no matter what. I also needed to know that he knew when to fuck off and allow me to handle things on my own.

I wanted to test his boundaries too, if I’m being perfectly honest.

Randy bit his lip, staring down at me as if I were food and he was a starving man. He raised a hand and rubbed his chin in thought, eyes not leaving mine for a second. “Why do you need me? Well, it’s like this, doll. I want you. And you’re not in the mindset right now to turn down any Alpha who offers himself up, just goin off of that sweet little scent you’ve got yourself right now. Just drop the act, princess. You and I both know that if you don’t find an Alpha, things are going to get real messy back here. Real fast. And I don’t think you want that now, do you hon?”

,, what I want is for you to back the fuck away. Find a tube of toothpaste or some cologne or a shower, something… anything to rid yourself of the stench you’ve got yourself.” the thought came but I was treading carefully, so I kept it internal, choosing only to give a soft laugh and roll my eyes at Randy instead.

“You know exactly zilch about me and my ‘delicate state’, first of all. Secondly? I wouldn’t choose you for my Alpha if you were the last one on earth.” I managed to get the words out. I managed to keep my eyes off of my actual Alpha, who still stood by watching intently, fists clenched tight now.

When he gave a quiet growl and started to approach, the flood in my panties only got so much worse.

And naturally, Randy thought this meant that something he’d said was getting through and that I was just playing hard to get… He pressed me against him, a hand going to my cheek as he gave a smug grin and let his gaze settle on me thoughtfully. “I knew it.”

“Like I said, Randy, you really don’t have a single fucking clue.” I tried to squirm free from his grasp but the fever raging in my body and the overwhelming scent of my true Alpha as he grew angrier and angrier combined with the slightest panic I was feeling at being fucking cornered like an animal by Orton, those were all working against me and I couldn’t extract myself.

His answer was to smirk and chuckle again. “You realize I can scent you and I know exactly what’s on your mind right now, right?”

“Good, then you know I want to stab you in the eyeball with my stiletto. Or reach down, grab that little shrimp dick of yours and twist til it comes off in my hands?” I quipped, a sweet smirk on my face as I boldly met his gaze. When I picked up on him, slowly inching his face closer to mine, I swallowed hard. It felt as if my throat were closing up and it was quickly becoming clear to me that if I thought I had this under control, I really didn’t. Randy wasn’t going to stop or go away. And he wasn’t going to let me get away either.

Desperately, I found my gaze shifting over Randy’s shoulder. I locked eyes with my Alpha and mouthed, “Any day now?…” almost impatiently. I wanted Randy the entire fuck away from me. And I was really starting to realize that I couldn’t achieve that on my own. I was fully in over my head.

Typical of me, I’m afraid.

I have to admit, the fact that my Alpha had yet to actually do anything had me in an internal uproar. It had me thinking that maybe I’d gotten the wrong read on him when I watched an earlier promo in the night.

Before I had a chance to consider it fully, that my Alpha might not be a good guy either, two things happened. One, Randy’s hand left my cheek and his mouth closed in even more, rough lips almost about to brush mine and disgusting stench for a moment blocking out the scent of my Alpha. His hand settled on my hip and he was pulling me against him. 

I planted a hand firmly against his chest, palm down. “What the--?” I didn’t even get to finish my sentence because from behind Randy, my Alpha’s throat cleared.

Randy grumbled to himself, picking up on the presence of my Alpha. But it was too late.

My Alpha locked eyes with me and nodded, indicating that I needed to move now, while Randy was distracted, and trust me, I wasted absolutely no time doing that. I extracted myself from between Randy and the wall I’d had my back pressed against and not even a split second later, my Alpha’s fist went smashing into Randy’s face and he had him pinned against the wall, a forearm across his throat.

And I didn’t think, I just ran.

I ran until I was out in the parking garage and then I stopped, catching my breath. It passed through my mind that maybe I should go back inside and at least attempt to be there when the brawl taking place in the hallway was over, but honestly?

I needed to get myself together. To get calm. To process and catch my breath and try to puzzle everything out.

And yeah, maybe parts of me were curious. Wondering if my Alpha would seek me out, or whether the incident in the hallway was just him stepping in because I asked…

The door to the garage flew open a few feet away and I rose up slightly, eyes darting around. The scent of my Alpha filled my senses and I bit my lip, taking a few shaky breaths right as he started to call my name. I opened my mouth to answer but nothing came. His footsteps were getting closer and closer.

My heart was racing and his scent hung heavily in the air around us, making me dizzy as the heat took over in my body. He touched me, and almost the instant I felt his hand on my shoulder, I could feel my body cooling down. This wave of relief washed over me and all I could think was that if this is what his touch felt like, I’d absolutely love more of it.

I inhaled deep, preparing myself to turn around…

[ roman ] [ drew ]

[bexterbex]

A Soul to Mend His Own | Ch. 73

Warning, PLEASE CHECK TAGS IF YOU SEE SOMETHING YOU DON’T WANT TO READ THEN DON’T READ. | Tag lists are closed | INBOX OPEN.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Will tag as I go along, Will update tags, Slow Burn, Influenced by Star Trek and other Sci-Fi themes, References to We Happy Few, Tons of References and quotes to George Orwells 1984 see if you can find them all, The First Order is the new Big Brother,  but who is really surprised, Blatant Nazi Symbolism, Interrogation Themes, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Really just drawn out Slow Burn, Don’t repost without permission, Torture themes, Suggestive Themes, Execution themes, Disturbing Themes, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Verbal Abuse, Controlling Kylo Ren, Physical Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, Possessive Kylo Ren, A character shamelessly based on Zelda

A Kylo Ren x Modern! Reader in a soulmate au with canon divergence. —————————————SLOWBURN————————————–

He is already the Supreme leader, searching the universe to find you, his Empress. Your name on his wrist has been the only constant in his life, while you have doubts about his existence and his acceptance of you. He isn’t in the database and why did the name Kylo Ren cover Ben Solo?

MASTERLIST

BEFORE YOU READ THE CHAPTER: Very dark themes. You have been warned. Kylo Ren is Not Nice.

Chapter 73: Behind Glass Windows

You didn’t remember being told that you were now docked on earth; you didn’t remember even getting ready to go down to the surface, but you were now watching behind the windows of your eyes as you were in the shuttle being brought down. You could hear and see everything you normally could, but you were behind the glass of your eyes. You couldn’t interact with your world, he was doing that for you. It was like watching a movie about yourself where you couldn’t control anything unless he let you.

You watched as you departed the ship when it made it to the surface; you were now in D.C. you could hear Mitaka say that your family was brought here, for your safety.

You knew your crown was adorning your head, you could see as everyone around you bowed or saluted in your presence. But you were stuck, watching this nightmare unfold before you. You saw them, your parents, your siblings, and their spouses and kids. All a mix of terrified and confused. Your body stopped in front of them, but they did nothing other than stare at you.

You heard Mitaka’s usually timid voice attempt to be confident. “It is the law to bow to the Empress when you are graced with her presence.”

You watched as your older brother attempted to dispute this, “But she’s our sister.” You knew they didn’t want to give you the same respect you had always shown them. You could see the internal struggle within your family. They were terrified to be in this position, but they also believed that being related to you granted them exceptions. It did not.

“I will say it once more. It is law for you to bow in front of the Empress when she graces you with her presence.” Mitaka’s voice was a bit agitated at the blatant disrespect for you. He might be timid in many ways but he loved rules, and what the First Order stood for, and this was showing disrespect in the face of it all.

You watched as your family looked confused and shared looks with each other but they eventually complied to the law. Bowing awkwardly to you, their Empress.

Your mother spoke up, “May I ask why we weren’t invited to your coronation? Your wedding?” Her voice reminded you of all the women in stores who demanded things from workers, that same annoyingly trying to be important tone.  

You didn’t know how to answer but words came out of your mouth anyway, words you couldn’t stop. “You were not invited simply because you are not important enough. You may be the people I happen to share DNA with, but you are not my family.”

Your mother gawked, but your father spoke first, “Now I know you don’t really feel that way.” You could see in his eyes that he was trying to deescalate the situation, trying to reason with you, but you weren’t in control.

The ugly black creature speaking for you, “I am the Empress, you do not have the privilege to tell me what to do.” You could feel its hold on your brain tightening with every word.

“You know that I wasn’t trying to do that,” your father’s voice was reflecting the worry that was plastered across his face. Of course you knew that but that didn’t stop the controlling force on you. You saw your head cock to the side, contemplating their existence in this world.

The monster roared, but your voice masked it. “Execute them.” You watched the creature vibrate with glee, overpowering you, and your wishes.

“M’lady? They are your family,” asked an officer who was in the room, Mitaka staying silent. You could see the hints of concern on his face, knowing something was wrong, that this wasn’t like you.

You watched as you turned to him. “They have wronged the Empress. Execute them.” You then walked away. Your back turned as you heard their confused yells, the education failing them, panic setting in.

You watched the fear in his face, “The children too?” You could hear the unease in the young officer’s voice. You wanted so desperately to tell him no. You watched as you turned back around to face the officer that dared to question you.

“Yes.” Was the answer you gave.

You began to walk away, down the hall to who knows where. You sure didn’t as you weren’t in control of your body, your mind. You were screaming and pounding against the glass that seemed to be preventing you from doing anything. But you watched as the tendrils moved in front of it and around you, being burned by the dying embers around you. You wondered if there would be a way to stoke the fire somehow. But it was just you, the glass wall, the dying embers, the tendrils, and blackness. You knew you had no control anymore, but you were fighting for your life.

You heard a voice speak on the other side of the glass. “Empress, I have some things I would like to catch you up on.” It was General Parnadee. She was here talking to you, in person for the first time in weeks.

You turned to face her. “Yes, general you may proceed.” The words were out of your mouth, you wanted to scream at her to let her know that you weren’t all right. That you needed help. That you were trapped inside your own mind.

She eyed you carefully like she always had, analyzing the situation before her like the expert tactician she was. “It seems someone you knew previously to the annexation to this planet is in coercion with the resistance. I was wondering if you would like to overlook the interrogation. Maybe provide some insight? Or speak yourself?” Her eyes gauging you every movement.

You could see the black creature fill with glee once more. Excited with the possibility of witnessing an interrogation. Its inky threads dancing across your brain. “Yes, I would. Lead the way general.” Shaping and molding the parts it had yet to fully seize.

She eyed you for a moment. You wondered if she could tell that something was off. Hearing yourself speak, you didn’t quiet sound like you, like yourself. You sounded like a different person had access to your voice, because technically that’s what this was. You weren’t controlling you; you did not have power over your body, your mind, you even wondered if you had power over your soul at the moment.

You were lead to a room in the lower levels. It did feel like an interrogation room, when you stepped inside you saw your former boss, Scott, strapped down to a chair. It looked like a torture device, complete with a small black drone droid flying about.

You wanted to know what he was doing here, why he was here. But the creature spoke for you. “You looked relieved Scott? Were you expecting someone else?” You could feel your eyes narrowing at him. The creature turning you into a hunter before its prey. “I’m just glad it’s you and not the supreme leader. I’ve heard the rumors. What he can do to the mind.” You could hear the exhaustion and fear in his voice, and the small sense of relief. The creature narrowed in on the fear.

You felt your head cock to the side. “What rumors?” The creature turning you into a hyena before a dying animal, circling him in the chair.

You could hear the frustration in his voice, obviously, you weren’t displaying the reaction he wanted. “I know you know. That he can tear into someone’s mind. But I know you will get me out of this, I know you know I am innocent. I’ve never done anything to you or the First Order. All you have are lies about me.”  You wanted to believe him, suspecting what the outcome of all of this would be if he was found guilty, but you didn’t have control.

The creature mocking him now, “You see that’s where you are wrong. I know you aren’t innocent Scott. I remember being in the conference room when you said: ‘Well we’re fucked, We are all surely fucked. Who are these people to think they can just take over like that? Do they think we are just going to sit by and let them brainwash us? Let them take everything from us?’ Did you think I forgot that” Your voice now sounded like something out of a horror movie, some fake female sounding voice that came from a monster.

Scott’s eyes were wide. “That doesn’t mean anything surely you know that right? I’m innocent. Please, you know I have a wife and kids.” He could see there was no good outcome for him. He would have to face his death.

“Hmmm yes I do.” The creature teased him, looking for the final kill. “But unfortunately for them, they will have to pay for your actions, just as you will.”

Panic, fear, horrification were just brushing the surface of what he was feeling about what the creature was suggesting. “What does that mean? Please take me and not them. Kill me and let them live.”  

Your head list to the other side. The you that was in control was really toying with him now, like a cat before her already caught prey. Which he was, strapped to the chair, helpless and in tears, afraid for his life. “Yes, you should be grateful that I am unable to tear into your mind, but know this I show the same amount of mercy as my husband. Which is none.”

You turned your back to him and walked out of the room, but not before telling the guard that Scott and his family were to face public execution, as examples of traitors to the first order.

You walked past the general. “I will be present for both executions, I would like them to happen as soon as possible.”

She looked at you, you could see it in her eyes that she knew something was wrong, “Yes, Empress. We are having them in an hour. I have been informed by your ladies-in-waiting that you have been requested to change for the executions.” You were different, and she could tell.

You simply nodded and headed down the hallway. You did not know where you were going, but you ended up in a bedroom where Adlez and Olivia-Rose were waiting, with your new gown for the execution.

“Are you all right m’lady we heard what happened,” asked Olivia-Rose.

The entity spewing harshness, “News travels quick.” You voice came out with a menacing tone. Both of them looked at you and each other, Olivia-Rose was terrified but Adlez was analyzing you. You had never treated them like this before. You knew it would only be a matter of time before the black monster in your head would mess up enough for them to want to do something about it.

But the creature blacked you out, ending any and all conversation, taking you to the execution before it allowed you to see through the windows of your eyes once more.

On the top of the front steps to the Lincoln Memorial, one of the very images that used to define freedom, is where the execution was taking place. The Lincoln statue was removed, in its place was a red banner with the First Order Insignia, its bright red color was like blood against the pure white marble.

It was more than just your family and Scott being executed, there were others lined up, but they didn’t matter to the part of your brain you couldn’t control. You wondered if you could stomach what you were about to witness. What he was about to make you witness. The death of your family.

You felt yourself step forward to address the crowd; you knew once again that the words coming out of your mouth were not your own. “Citizens of Earth, the people before you today have committed the act of treason against you, against the most gracious First Order. I stand before you today as your Empress. Showing you firsthand that I stand behind what is done here, the examples these people will be to you all. Break the rules, cause disorder and you will be eradicated. We will be pure, we will have order, we will be better.”

You stepped back; you knew all eyes were on you, but you were numb to it all. Not feeling the pain that was so clearly in your heart, in your soul. You watched as an Executioner ‘trooper stepped forward. Through the voice distortion, you heard names and the crimes they committed. You watched as Scott went first, his crime being a spy and conspiring with the Resistance. You watched as they forced him to kneel in front of everyone next to a ‘trooper with a laser axe. You watched on horrified at the falling of his head, but the crowd that gathered in front of you was living for it. Shouting various encouragements to the executioners, saying disgusting things to those who were lined up. Next was his wife and two kids, their crime was failing to report a conspirator of the Resistance. Your body not following your will, forcing you to watch, breaking you.

But you weren’t prepared for what you were about to witness next, your family. Your mother, your father, your brothers and sister with their spouses and kids lining up together, a stormtrooper holding each of them, an executioner next to them waiting, waiting for the announcement of their names and crimes. You could see the fear and tears on their faces, some of them trying to look at you, trying to show you their dying eyes. The children and babies not knowing what was happening. What you were about to let the First Order do, knowing you couldn’t stop what was about to happen.

Their death, and your isolation.

You watched as the axes fell in sync; you were alone now. Your family was gone, Kylo on the other end of the galaxy but controlling you. Allowing. No. Forcing this to happen. Forcing your isolation. Forcing their death. The rest of the execution was a blur, the tendrils seemed to decide that you have had enough of being forced to witness things. You didn’t remember the rest of the day, or the next few days as a matter of fact. The inky blackness was all you saw.

[crowleyellestair]

Hello, how are you? Are taking requests? If so, could you please write a Lambert blurb? I read you Eskel one and I love it! Thank yoooou

AN// Thank you! I’m glad you liked my other one <3 I wrote this, then realised you wanted a blurb. This is a little longer, but I will get to writing a shorter thing for ya. Requests are always open!

  Kaer Morhen was a wrecked fortress, with rubble rolling over every lick of the mountain it was built into. Only ghosts and the remaining witchers tread through the demolished halls, unless bringing on a willed companion. Geralt was the only wone who ever brought people with, though they were growing less welcome by the person. Yennefer, Triss Ciri and Dandelion had taken the trail and had spent winters within the walls. Though, after Triss, the White Wolf was warned by the youngest witcher that compliancy with new people was quickly dwindling.

It had made sense. Yennefer was known to have her talons embedded in the wolf’s fur, which never really gave anyone hope for any other sorceress from the Lodge. The Merigold had come along, chestnut hair bouncing in the wind, her nose held high. Lambert hadn’t taken too kindly to what she preached, as she hadn’t spent every winter in the keep- everything she saw and spoke down upon were things the men were well aware of. He swore, that if the woman ever spoke poorly of his manners again, he’d show her just how ‘savage’ he could really be.

Luckily, this winter was looking up. The men usually informed the others of any companions they were bringing, but there was no word from Geralt. Yennefer had made a large fuss after Triss had apparently tattled, so the young Lion Cub would be spending winter with her and the Lodge. While Lambert would begrudgingly admit he’d miss the little spitfire, being alone also sounded like a nice difference. It been a rough year for him and the public, and despite hating being alone with his own ghosts, he wasn’t sure he could handle more people.

When his medallion started to vibrate against his chest, every hair on his body stood on end. He clutched the powdered dimeritium closer to his chest, ready to start a war. He had warned Geralt, and he wasn’t one to joke when it came to disrespect and people associated with it. Geralt strolled through the front door, and a younger female gasp was heard behind him. Eskel was quick to evaluate Lambert’s reaction, but decided to greet the two.

“Brother, glad you made it.” The two wolves’ arms fell around each other in a familiar yet rare embrace. The brunette pulled away to ask his friend, “And who is this?” The subject of the question turned from the pile of supplies she was looking over to show a bright smile. Her hand jabbed towards him through the air, excitement seeming to be her driving force.

“Hello! Y/n, mage consultant of Dorian. Thank you for being kind enough to allow me to stay here, it’s an honor.” The hand not meeting her shake went up to brush over his scar, and landing behind his neck. He gave a small, dubious smile, trying to cover up Lambert’s loud scoff with a response. Despite being across the large hall, it was clear as day what type of anger and disgust that dripped from the young witcher.

“Eskel. I don’t know about honor coming with it, but you are welcome. We aren’t entirely sure the reasoning behind your stay, but you’re here now.” Y/n’s smile faltered when their hands dropped.

“Oh, my apologies. I helped Yennefer and Ciri out of a large scuffle, but some people are after me now.” Lambert had left his spot on the table to come to the group. Shoulder’s squared, he threw on a sarcastic smirk.

“What type of people does a sorceress need to worry about?” Sorceress was spoken with a fake worshiping tone, with hand gestures in the air to allude to him seeing them as overpowered deities. The woman’s smile fell completely at the new character’s entrance. Both Eskel and Geralt watched as her chest popped out as well, and her eyes followed Lamberts purposely. Though, it was clear it wasn’t a struggle for dominance, but for respect.

“I’m actually a simple mage. Human. Aging and all. That’s why Geralt offered to help,” her tone became stronger through her finishing statement. “And why it was so surprising I was any help in the first place.” Eskel’s eyes widened, looking to his younger brother. No one had approached his berating with that tactic. How can one bully someone who already bullies themselves- and with such confidence and bravado? Eskel stepped in, his shoulder barley overlapping Lambert’s, giving a small buffer between the two.

“This is Lambert. He’s always this way, but he is kind.” The man in question rolled his eyes before folding his arms over his chest. His glare flickered to Geralt, and snarled out,

“I told you after Merigold that I’m not dealing with this horse shit.” Every consonant was hit with a certain venom that reminded the other two of the Viper school. Grealt had huffed, folding his arms as well while it was the mage’s turn to scoff.

“Triss? I wouldn’t say I’m in league with her.” Wide eyes flew to her, but she gave a nonchalant shrug. Her eyes wandered over everything but them, her attention easily being taken by the new location. “I might have a great knowledge of alchemy and chemistry, but she was never fond of how I conducted my experiments. You need to take risks for breakthroughs, even if it’s yourself that’s at risk.” Her eyes finally met everyone else’s. “I know she didn’t want me to hurt myself, but discovery is harnessing the unknown. I know the risks. She certainly could have laid it on nicer though.”

Vesemir’s entrance back into the great hall had taken a weight off of the White Wolf’s shoulders. He had mentioned the tension she might face, but he hadn’t been too worried. Though her introduction was kind, he wasn’t confident that it would deter the young man. He wasn’t one to let go of grudges, especially since they are his main bedfellows.

A week had gone by, and the men hadn’t really seen the mage outside of mealtimes. While it was understandable as they were really only focused on three other things: Training lounging, and rebuilding the ruin. As far as Lambert was concerned, that’s how it should be. This was his time, and she was Geralt’s guest. If she stayed away and was only summoned for meals, so be it. Though, this fake paradise was short lived once Vesemir asked him to escort her through the mountain to the old watchtower.

He didn’t bother knocking on the library door when he pushed it open as it was his home. There was a certain strut he had to him, but his grand, sassy entrance was wasted as the mage was leaned over the large table that had been pushed to the side years ago. Lambert stopped just next to her, leaning over her shoulder to find multiple books spread over a large map. Penciled in circles scattered over its surface, and she had a finger running over a book’s text before adding another circle.

There was no attention afforded to the man yet, and he was able to finally get a clear look at her. Her frame was covered in thicker layers that still had lighter colors despite the norm having otherwise. Light blues painted the clothes with white furs lining it. He was glad to see she wore trousers, dreading to have to carry a woman through the mountain if she strips over the skirt of a dress. Her skin looked soft- too soft to be found in the fort. Even Triss and Yen, with their perfect skin, had a specific hardness to them. Weathered skin, while it can look flawless, has a texture. There were burns and cuts that littered Y/n’s hands and wrists, likely from the experiments she had mentioned when she first arrived. Despite those blemishes, Lambert was sure that he would only feel a silk or velvet like thing- he wasn’t familiar with either textures, so the fluffy words were things he must have picked up in passing with Dandelion. If he were to reach out, he was sure she would fit snuggly in his arms.

The young witcher was lost in his observations, so when she abruptly stood straight, he had to work double to make sure she didn’t touch him. She turned; a bright smile that had the sun reflected in her eyes beamed at him. The map was being rolled in her hands and was shoved into a satchel that was hastily thrown over her shoulder.

“Thanks for doing this, Lambert. I think I’ll find the herb at the watchtower, but if not, there are three other places it might be. Of course, if you don’t want to, we could go out a different day if the tower is a bust.” His arms crossed over his chest, trying to shield himself from the onslaught of positivity.

“Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. ‘We’ could easily turn into a ‘you and someone else’. I was volunteered, and I doubt I’ll be as willing to waste my precious minutes next time.” He gave a smile that was tainted with sarcasm. Despite this, her hand had somehow made its way to his upper arm, and gave a light squeeze. Her smile faltered, telling him something hit home, but she put up a strong front.

“I’m sure you’ll be happy to know that this herb will help in covering my magic footprint. Therefore, we find this now, you won’t have to see me later. Volunteered or not, I’m sure you’ll find some joy from today’s journey somehow.” The feigned joy that radiated from her statement threw the man through the wringer again. The deflection by self-destruction in their first meeting had obliterated the jesting wall around his heart. It had defenses- it had to. One of the main defenses it had was what some would call bullying, but he usually never meant any jest he tossed. But it was like he threw a bomb at her, and by her using aard against herself, it blew the bomb back at his wall by getting caught in the gust. And again, he was taken back. He was familiar with the tactic, but only because it was something he used to do before the trials. If you bully yourself, no one else can find joy in doing it. He saw himself in that moment, and it made him wonder, what happened to her?

Lambert nodded, moving to give a grandiose wave of the arm.

“Lead the way.” With that, the two headed towards the tower. Luckily, there were trails leading to it, but unluckily for them, they met trouble. The mountains were crawling with bears, and while both Lambert and Y/n were fine with it, it seemed the bears weren’t fond of them. A smaller, yet fair size bear walked in the way of the path, though it looked to be alone.

Lambert was quick to pull his steel, but he stiffened when he felt the mage’s hand clamp around his that gripped the sword. His eyes glared towards her for a moment, but her eyes were still on the bear. She was completely still, which made Lambert roll his eyes. Then, her voice came out stiff, lips unmoving.

“Stay very still.” His eyes rolled, but decided not to move. He couldn’t smell any fear, but anxiety still came off in soft waves.

“That doesn’t really work. If someone from the School of the Bear heard that, they’d laugh at you.” He watched as her body shifted slowly, and only when she couldn’t see the bear’s eyes. After a minute of the standoff, she was behind him completely. The young bear looked baffled when she was gone, and started to move quickly towards them. Lambert brought his sword in front of him, but he heard a small, ‘get ready’ in his ear. His form broke when Y/n jumped onto his back. His hands automatically fell under her legs, and shifted her up. Despite catching her, he remained confused until he heard her make something between a roar and a scream. It was loud and full, but to him it sounded as if a kitten were impersonating a lion. The bear, who looked as though he was going to stand on his hind legs and strike, quickly fled. Lambert let her fall from his arms before picking up his discarded sword.

“That shouldn’t have worked.” He looked to her, who was smiling and looking quite pleased. She turned to face him, throwing her hands over her head, while curling her fingers to make fake claws.

“Well, we make quite the feral beast.” Lambert’s head was thrown back at the loud and powerful laugh that raked through him. He felt his shoulders quake, and his eyes close, but the other half of their ‘feral beast’ stood there blushing. Her hands fell back down by her sides, and she simply stood. When his laughing died down, and she still simply stood, he sensed her. He noticed the elevated heartrate and turned, hand on hilt, making sure another bear didn’t appear. When there was nothing, he turned back.

“What?” Her blush grew, and she bent to fix her boots and fiddle with her satchel. When everything seemed in order, she turned to start walking toward the tower again. The witcher followed, and after a moment, she looked to him.

“You have a beautiful laugh, is all.” Lambert immediately stiffened, but when he listened to her heart, he found she was telling the truth. It was still elevated, but the flush that was still spread overhear cheeks and neck was the reasoning for it. His brows still furrowed as they continued to the destroyed building.

It didn’t make sense. People don’t like Lambert. He was brash and blunt, neither attribute highly sought after. Brutal honesty is what he gave because the other option was lying. Lying by sprinkling in a kindness that he knew didn’t exist in the world. There was little positivity that he gave because there was never any shown back to him. He knew that it wasn’t too fair, as he gave up looking for it. There were always moments when he would be shown that sun, but every other day was grey. And being a witcher at the core was the nail in the coffin. People didn’t want to interact with a mutated monstrosity, let alone like them. Or find their laugh beautiful.

The young witcher agreed with himself in putting up extra defenses. This random mage who was on the run wouldn’t get any closer to that fortress he called his heart. He tried to forget the multiple smiles she has thrown his way over the past week. The multiple times she received the bread bowl, and asked if he wanted any before taking some. The short, passing statements that showed a valley of pain behind the mountains of kindness. Forget those bright eyes that show no judgement for anything but herself.

Disappointment was obvious when they made it to the tower, and she couldn’t find it. Lambert stood by the entrance, watching with crossed arms and a dismissive look as her shoulders fell. His golden eyes fluttered over their surroundings for a moment, looking for wraiths or bears. He looked back to where Y/n had just been, but ran in when she was gone. He found her halfway up a tattered latter, a look of determination obvious.

“What are you doing? If Vesemir- hell, if Geralt sees me carrying you back to the fort with broken bones, it’ll be my ass on the chopping block. Get down.” While he was telling the truth, and his tone was harsh, he did feel worried. He is her escort, and he can’t have her getting hurt on his watch. If a strong witcher can’t protect her on a simple scavenger hunt, what would she think of him once she was better? Would she still smile at him? He doubted it, and the way he covered up his real reasonings didn’t matter. She didn’t know he needed her safe to see her smile at him willingly. Y/n turned, pointing up somewhere towards the remaining top of the turret. He could see her red, cold fingertips due to the fingerless gloves she decided to wear. While it was just frost and light snow that covered everything, the chances of her fall was too high.

“There’s a platform up there, and I’m gonna check.”

“No.”

“What?” He shook his head, putting his hands on her hips. He lifts her easily and places her softly back on the ground.

“I’ll go. What does it look like?” Again, Y/n simply stood there. She shook her head, while quickly going for her satchel.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. The herb. Give me a moment.” Lambert dropped his hands from her hips when she had to maneuver her bag over his arm. The mage pulled the book from her back, opening to the page with a small purple bud. “They’re hard to spot. If it’s open, don’t touch it. If it’s closed, give it a pinch. It should be hard to the touch despite its gentle looking exterior.” He nodded, and turned to the latter. It didn’t take too long to scale the rubble, finding the small buds. He did as she asked, and gathered a handful before jumping and flipping back down. When he landed, and presented the buds, her eyes sparkled much like they did when she first arrived.

“Are you going to take them, or did I do all of that for nothing?” Again, she shook herself back to reality, tearing her eyes from his face. He didn’t feel it happen, but a small smile crept onto his face. He wasn’t even trying to impress, much like he would in the courtyard. Her fingertips brushed the heel of his hand as she gathered the buds, and he felt a yearning he hadn’t felt before. He was right; her skin was soft. Cold, but soft. He wanted those fingertips to brush over him again. One of the tips felt rough, likely from the same place those burns came from. But it was a pleasant difference, and something he’d love to explore.

“Perfect, Lambert.” Her voice was soft, and she hadn’t said anything after that. She smiled and turned, jerking her head to beckon him to follow. He did like a lost dog. They made their way back to the keep, Y/n rambling about the importance of the plant. There was an interlude in her speech when she asked, “How do wolves climb? Is that like a special power you have? How high can you climb? Can you do anything else as cool?” A smirk found its way to his face as they entered past the bridge.

“I frequent with people from the School of the Cat. I don’t think the others can do quite what I can. They don’t like when I hang with them, but I think it’s just jealousy. And yeah, I have a whole arsenal of tricks.” He smiled to her during his last statement that earned what he would classify as a giggle.

“Well, it was quite spectacular.” Lambert found his smirk falling, trying to figure out why that statement would be made. They made their way back to the main hall, where his eyes danced over the rest of the men at the table. “I’m going back to the library. Thank you again for the help.” Her hand flew back to his arm, giving another light squeeze. “If you want to show any other cool things from that school, I’d happily watch.” Lambert watched as the blushing mage flew to the stairs. Once they all heard her footsteps disappear, the men at the table start to chuckle. Lambert throws his swords onto the tabletop, falling in place next to Eskel. Before the brunette takes a drink, he jokes,

“No more Merigolds, Geralt. Our guest has to go.” More chuckles stirred around him, but he didn’t react from his hunched position, looking at the table.

That woman should be running from witchers. If she didn’t run from face value, she’d definitely run with a man riddled with rage and a torn past. Even if he wanted to pursue Y/n, there are multiple points in their courting where he knew she would run. He didn’t want to be fixed if she didn’t, and he knew those types. They think they can strut in and try to glue pieces back together. But it’s never right, and he is forced to break down the new image they tried to build. But there’s something more to her that makes him hesitate to brush her off completely. And the warmth he tried to deflect had gotten past those walls that kept his heart.

[gtgrandom]

Money Hei/st is NOT Feminist

Oof. I just watched half of season one of Money Hei/st (la Casa de Pape//) and had to shut it off due to the sexist undercurrent within the writing. (It’s so obviously written by a Spanish man oml - and that’s coming from a Hispanic woman).

This show has some amazing virtues, such as the production value, the cinematography, the music, the plot structure, and the acting. But I was sick to my stomach watching them attempt to appeal to feminists while reinforcing harmful, misogynistic stereotypes.

1) Victimhood. Every SINGLE woman on this show is a victim in some way - and no, it’s not just the ones held captive by a sociopath. We have the teenager whose nudes get posted online by the guy she was with, Raquel’s long spiel about being abused and how it’s a man’s world, Nairobi gives a long ass speech about being abandoned by her man to raise her son alone, Monica being pregnant with a man who doesn’t know if he’s willing to be with her, the wife this man cheated on with Monica, Tokyo being slut-shamed for her hookup and constantly overpowered by her male teammates (and much worse, later down the road), the women Berlin harasses and assaults, etc.

It’s okay to have one or two feminist issues brought up in the narrative - especially if they tie into the plot - but a true feminist story will depict women on the same level as men, as equals, as partners. Not victims to their actions in every way, shape, and form. Not hateful toward the opposite sex.

2) Overemotional women. The lead women are both emotionally compromised in the most important jobs of their lives, and their emotions lead to recklessness and poor decisions, not empathy or leadership. They lose their minds over men, and sex, and love. Because women are too emotional and can’t be trusted with positions of power...apparently. These characters all act so STUPID around their love interests it’s frustrating as hell. It’s just validating opinions that women can’t run for office or fight on the front lines because of their hormones 😷

3) The (disproportionate) sexualization of female characters. I get it; this is a thriller with a male target audience - sex and nudity is inevitable. But women are constantly in their underwear, sexually harassed, or objectified at the most inappropriate times. I literally had to shut off the television during the “sexy fantasy sleepover” between the two girl friends. Like how out of touch with reality can straight men be??? Gross, gross, gross. At least be fair about it and give us a bunch of naked dudes playing rugby, or something equally as ridiculous. Jesus.

4) The anti abortion episode. I honestly wouldn’t have cared so much, given the Hispanic influence, except the life lesson came from a MAN telling a woman why she should have her baby, and withholding her abortion pill while he did so. The power imbalance is unreal.

5) Tokyo. She’s your classic fierce, “strong female character,” who’s built up her walls due to past trauma, but is somehow still extremely attractive and lovable and sexy to all the male characters. And to complete the male fantasy, she’s down to sleep with someone 15 years her junior...because he’s just that good 🙄 she’s also obligated to return his feelings when he throws a tantrum about getting married...for some reason

6) Berlin. I don’t need to elaborate on this. He’s clearly the villain, so I’ll cut the writers some slack. But when he hates on women and talks about their vaginas after childbirth and touches young women without consequence - or reprimand - from the rest of our protagonists, I take issue with what the narrative is trying to say. You don’t need to paint morality in black and white for your viewers, but there should be some kind of force acting against him. Too often he’s portrayed in this cool and “sexy” light, and it’s disturbing.

Final notes

Once I noticed the patterns in the writing, I could no longer enjoy the story. I was literally nauseous by the time I stopped watching.

If you’re a man, you probably won’t feel offended by anything in this show (my boyfriend was shooketh when I pointed out the problematic themes, RIP), but if you’re a woman who’s had to deal with men’s bullshit all your life, from being harassed to underestimated to discriminated against, proceed with caution.

[professional-danish]

A Response to The Last of Us Part II Ending (Obvious Spoilers)

I’ve been seeing a lot of people who didn’t like the game say that they understand the ending perfectly, they already know revenge is bad, they didn’t need Naughty Dog to tell them this, etc etc but...for most of them, you’re still really not getting it.

This game is not about revenge at all, and it’s really not even about Abby, although she does teach us some important lessons. This game is still entirely about Joel and Ellie, and it is completely based on the premise of forgiveness. But not for Abby!! Ellie DOES NOT forgive Abby, and she never will. No one, in my opinion, would or even could forgive the brutal murder of their loved one, and it’s a haunting, human problem that plagues not only every protagonist of The Last of Us, but our own reality. There is something within our nature that simply cannot stomach it. We see it in the pain and anger of Joel when he loses Sarah, we see it in Abby when she loses her father, and we see it in Ellie, not only when she loses Joel, but when Joel reveals that he sacrificed the world at her expense. 

Let’s take a look at the ending again, specifically the final fight. I’ve seen so many people upset at the fact that it all seems to be for nothing, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. The ending of this story is everything, and for me, it’s what makes the game, and the entirety of what comes before it cannot be understood without the very last cutscene of Joel and Ellie’s final conversation. This is where all the anger, the bitterness, the brutality, and the pain stems from. 

“I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for that,” Ellie says, as Joel tells her he would pick to save her and doom the world again and again, no matter the circumstances, “but I would like to try.” 

Ellie never gets this chance to work through her issues with Joel, and that’s why his death festers within her so painfully. Abby takes that from her, and it is so grievous a crime that Ellie becomes fixed in place, incapable of moving on from it. She sees the loss all around her, a wound that demands to be healed and yet cannot be stitched by any tools she knows of or has, and so she is forced on this quest to heal herself by destroying the surface issue and refusing to acknowledge the root.  

She’s going to kill Abby, and that will take away the pain. 

Of course, we know this isn’t true, and Naughty Dog shows us this early on by thrusting us into Abby’s shoes. Murdering Joel has brought her no relief or satisfaction. The people she loves are further away from her than ever (and soon to be dead), and have been forced there as a consequence of her unshakeable need for revenge. And furthermore, she’s still living in the same hell, where she constantly returns via flashbacks to find her father dead on the floor of the hospital. Killing Joel has not eased that pain, nor healed her emotional wounds. The only thing that has changed is that Abby has no purpose any longer, and no attachments, much in the same way we find Joel in the first game. He’s just going through the motions, trying to survive, empty and in pain. Only when he finds Ellie does he begin to regain his humanity, and the same is said for Abby, who only begins to come back to life and heal from what happened when she meets and helps Lev and Yara. You see, the story of The Last of Us Part One is retold in this sequel, though through a much narrower platform, with Abby standing in for Joel, Yara for Tess, and Lev for Ellie. And at the very end, Ellie, and by extension the player, seems to recognize this. 

When we reach the final fight, both women have committed numerous atrocities, and both have lost parts of themselves and the most important people in their lives to their vengeance. When they meet on the water, Ellie is fully prepared to end Abby’s life, something that the player fully accepts, which is another interesting beat, because a lot of complaints about Abby killing Joel stem from the fact that Joel saves Abby’s life. Abby has now also overpowered and spared Ellie twice, and yet most players still can’t seem to see through the thick fog of anger that clouds around Abby and her actions. Again, Abby is not “one of us” the way Ellie and Joel are, so I do understand it, but I think the irony is worth mentioning. 

When it comes time for the final kill, Ellie can’t. Why? She’s got Abby under that water, and Lev is far too incapacitated to help. Everything she’s been heading towards, everything she needs to fix herself and what has happened is literally right between her hands (or what’s left of them). So why can’t she do it? Is she too weak? 

No. Joel comes flooding through in a brief, single second snap of the night of their last conversation, and in that moment, Ellie achieves catharsis. When the scene progresses forward, into that final conversation, we as the player finally understand. This hasn’t been about Ellie hating Abby. This hasn’t been about Abby at all. While Abby acts as the inciting incident, this game and journey has always been about Joel. 

Ellie, while loving him, hated him for his actions, his weakness, his selfishness. Joel strips not only a cure from the world, but Ellie from her sense of self. Ellie wanted to die in that hospital. No one can say different. She was prepared for her life, and for all of the people she had lost—Riley, Tess, Henry and Sam, Marlene⁠—to mean something. Ellie can’t bear the guilt that that meaning has been permanently stripped away because Joel can’t bear to be without her. When Joel takes that decision away from her, she loses her guiding light, and all sight of herself, and what is important. All around her people continue to suffer and die, and she knows deep down she could have prevented it, but Joel robbed her of that choice. 

She can’t stomach it. 

But she loves Joel, and while she hates what he did, she understands him, and understands, to some extent, his actions, much like we do as observers of both stories. She recognizes an inability to change the past, sees Joel for who he is, and asks to start over, to ease this pain she carries. 

In the moment she relives this scene, she knows what she has to do. It hasn’t been about Abby, not this entire time. It’s been about accepting what Joel did, and the consequences of his actions. It’s been about accepting his love for her, and that it drove him to do something horrible, and that she’s in danger of doing something horrible too, of repeating this unforgiving cycle all in the name of what is just, what is right, and what we are supposed to do for the people we love.

But this isn’t right.  

There’s no justice in killing this feeble, starved, broken woman in front of her. There’s no honor in leaving a young boy to die. Ellie refuses to become that catalyst, refuses to further an agenda of hate, fear, violence, and revenge. In that moment, she accepts Joel for who he was and what he did, and she forgives him. She lets Abby up, and she lets her and Lev go, and in the process, frees herself, and closes the wound that has been slowly killing her this entire game. 

So, was it all for nothing? Absolutely not. It’s a painful journey, and it’s an emotional one, but it’s one profoundly reflective of reality, and one that, despite the brutality, is about healing, forgiveness, and love.

In choosing to break the cycle of violence, the game actually ends on an incredible note of hope, at least in my opinion. In keeping Abby alive, she allows for her and Lev to go off and find the Fireflies, as opposed to murdering Abby and creating the potential for Lev to survive and try to enact revenge on Ellie. And while Ellie has been physically maimed by her journey (a direct metaphor for reaping what you sow), she has found herself again and she is at peace with Joel and his actions. Even more than that, she knows that he died knowing she loved him. When she returns to her empty farmhouse, there are certain indicators here that all is not lost. Clean sheets remain behind in case of her return, and Dina’s favorite album lies on top of her guitar, a reminder of their love, and in my mind, a symbol of forgiveness all in itself, and a call to come back home. In a game solely focused on forgiveness, I see no other alternative than Ellie finding her way back to Jackson, and to Dina and her potato, to finally live the life she’s been trying to get back to for so long, since the very day she was bitten. 

You can be angry that they killed Joel. You can be angry that you have to live within Abby’s perspective. You’re supposed to be, and I know that I was. But these are not reasons to call this a bad game, because it isn’t, and if you give it a chance, you can see what this game is trying to say to you through these decisions. It’s done something to me that I’ve never experienced through another piece of media EVER. It’s a dynamic, masterful story set within the very best performance a gaming system can currently offer. It’s painful, emotional, and so very human, and it is currently my all time favorite game, of which the characters and stories it contains will stay with me always. 

Endure and survive...love and forgive. 

[parachutingkitten]

Which Ninja Has Really Had The Most Focus Seasons? Let’s Find Out!

I am not here to end the focus ninja debate, I’m here to perpetuate it. We tend to squabble over the little things when we talk about this. Who gets to open their eyes in the beginning of the episode? Who’s on the set boxes? What counts as a real season? Well, I’ve come up with a system to try and quantify some of this. Now, it’s not perfect, and you might disagree with what I put where, or even the structure of my system, but I think the results are a fair estimate of how much time the writers actually spend with each character. And also, there are some pretty interesting conclusions to look at, so if you want to know more, join me under the cut :)

(Fair warning, this is a lengthy one)

How Does This Work?

I have 4 tiers of points. Focus, half focus, sub focus, and misc. Focus is worth 4 points, and is for ninja who are the sole focus of a full-length season. Half focus is worth 3 points, and is for focus ninja of split seasons, or seasons that share focus ninja. Sub focus is worth 2 points, and is for ninja who have a large, season defining plotline, but aren’t important enough to be the sole focus. I use this category to settle a lot of the debatable seasons. Misc. is worth 1 point, and is for the focus ninja of a short/special, sub focus of a half season, and other little things like that. Whatever ninja earns the most focus points has had the most focus time dedicated to them (theoretically).

I will be including all of the seasons, along with the pilot episodes, Day of the Departed, and the Prime Empire shorts, because these are pretty solidly essential viewing when watching the show. I’m not including stuff like Wu’s Tea, and those original ninjago shorts cuz… well, first off, I don’t think anyone really cares about them, but also, they’re not essential, and don’t really have focus ninja anyway. For the record, I am counting March of the Oni as a special and not a season. And no, I’m not including the movie. Duh.

I’m awarding points to any character I feel earns one, but not villains. Of course, villains are going to get decent screen time, that’s how basic plot structure works. In addition to characters, I will also be awarding points to an ensemble category, for any seasons that do not have a focus ninja. Though, the ensemble can only earn points at the focus and half focus levels. The ensemble earning points for sub focus just… doesn’t make sense. Like yeah, the rest of the cast is there… in every season. That’s how having a cast of characters generally works.

I would also like to add that this does not take into account the quality of the seasons. There’s always a debate to be had that the highest scoring ninja deserves another season, cuz the ones they’ve had are bad. I’m just interested in quantity. Alright? And again, this isn’t an end all be all answer, it’s just a set of numbers based on my perception of each season. I just want to start some more informed discussion. 

And last but not least, spoilers.

The Breakdown:

(if you don’t care about my reasoning in assigning points, feel free to skip to the results) 

Pilot Episodes

Kai is the focus character in these. I don’t know that anyone’s gonna fight me on that one. This is a special, so 1 point for Kai.

Season 1

Now, this one’s a bit trickier, because Kai is still noticeably the main character, but compared to the pilots, his role seems pretty equal within the cast of the OG 4. The season is about all of them growing as individuals and as a team together. Kai serves more as an insider POV than a real pure focus. I’m going to dub this an ensemble season (4 points) with a sub focus on Kai (2 points)

Season 2

Lloyd is definitely central to the plot this season, and does do the whole final battle thing, but again, the season is more about the ninja training Lloyd than Lloyd himself. Additionally, Kai serves as narrator this season, and gets himself some pretty sizable speeches etc. Again, I’m going to give ensemble 4 points for focus, and Kai and Lloyd both get 2 points each for sub focus.

Season 3

This is a Zane season. He gets the final battle, and the big realizations, and the love interest, it’s his season. There are some sizable sub plots this season, but none of them big enough to give anyone sub focus points. 4 points to Zane.

Season 4

This is a Kai season. He has the angst and love interest; he gets the points. Now, some people might think Zane earns sub points because the plot focuses on finding him, but that doesn’t mean he got more screen time than normal. That’s a plot device, not character time. He has a good little mini arc, but like… so does Garmadon, and Lloyd, and pretty much everyone. Kai gets 4 points.

Season 5

This season doesn’t have a focus ninja. Lloyd does get the intro, but he’s possessed half the season. Again, that’s a plot device, not character time. I’m labeling this as an ensemble season, so 4 more points to ensemble. The two arcs that really define this season are Nya becoming the water ninja, and Cole becoming a ghost. 2 points each for sub focus.

Season 6 

This is a Jay season. This is undebatably a Jay season. 4 points for Jay. In fact, this season focuses on Jay to such an extent that they actively kick other characters out of the show in order to focus on him more. That’s getting him an extra point, cuz it’s kinda ridiculous, and this is my thing so I can do what I want. Now, this season focuses a lot on his relationship with Nya. He shares his title card with her. That’s not nothing. She has a sizable arc, and noticeable presence. I’m giving her 2 points for sub focus.

Day of the Departed

This is a Cole special. Do I really have to explain myself on this one? 1 point for Cole.

Season 7

Our first split season! This is a pretty clear-cut Kai and Nya season. I wouldn’t say one overpowers the other. They share the spotlight pretty well. 3 points each for half season.

Season 8

This is a Lloyd season. It’s his dad getting brought back, his angsty drama, his love interest, his season. 4 points for Lloyd. There are some other noticeable plotlines, but none of them big enough to award points for.

Season 9

Another split season, this time taking place in two separate locations. Season 9 in Ninjago is pretty much just season 8 continued. Same tone, location, conflict, everything. This half is still a Lloyd Season. 3 half season points to him. The half in the first realm is harder to pin down though. It’s mostly an ensemble season, but I do feel Wu and Cole’s relationship plays a big enough role to earn them some points, especially since it’s a multi season arc. I’m going to use the misc. category to award them both 1 point.

March of the Oni

This is a Lloyd special. I mean, they had some pretty good ensemble stuff, and them giving the intro to Cole was cute and all but... It’s Lloyd’s special. He dies and talks to God before being resurrected. Classic main character stuff. 1 point to Lloyd.

Season 11

It’s a split season again! But I would like to award full focus to the ensemble. Both chapters either focus way too much on side characters or split the time pretty equally between the core cast for it to be anything else. 4 points to the ensemble. But I would like to single out Kai and Wu as both having significant arcs. The first chapter spends a lot of time on Wu’s past, mistakes, and guilt. And Kai’s arc is put noticeably center, resolving in the last episode of the season. I’d like to give these two 1 misc. point each. To those who would argue that Zane needs points for his ice chapter… no. First of all, he was gone for the majority of the ice chapter, and was being used, yet again, as a plot device rather than a character. And also, technically, that would conflict with my no points to villains rule.

Prime Empire Shorts

These are weird, but most of them focus on Jay’s experience in Prime Empire, so 1 point goes to him.

Season 12

Now, this is, at least as of right now, a half season. It’s 16 10-minute episodes, that’s one chapter’s worth, so I’m going to award points accordingly. Now, a lot of people might think this is a Jay season, but the story doesn’t follow Jay’s perspective. That’s what the prime empire shorts were for. The story follows the ninja going to find Jay. And yes, based on episode descriptions, there is an episode where Jay fights a boss all by himself, but it’s not the final boss, and it’s only one episode where he’s on his own. I mean, Okino had his own episode this season, and this isn’t an Okino season. So, though I will award him 1 point for being a sub focus in a half season, I’m awarding 3 half focus points to the ensemble.

Results:

Chart version of the points awarded in my explanations above

Total points gathered by each person

Number of times a person was awarded any number of points

Number of times a person was awarded 3 or more points

Conclusions:

Well, there are several things I got out of this. Obviously, Kai scored highest in most categories. He was the main character of the pilot, so it’s really not surprising that the writers have ideas for his character. That being said, I do find it funny that, even though we would all agree that Lloyd is the series’ overall main character, he does not appear in the pilot. People watching the pilot to get a feel for the series would be missing the most important character. That’s just really funny to me. Additionally, the main character of the show did not score the most focus points. He was in the double digits though, so he really can’t complain too much.

The Times High Ranking Points Were Earned data refers to times a character got points for being the focus ninja of a season/half season. For all of the fuss people give about Kai and Lloyd having like 5 seasons, it’s really only 2 each that they have an undebatable hold on. And on top of that, they both only have one all to themselves. Kai having season 4 and sharing season 7, and Lloyd having season 8 and sharing season 9. They do have an absurd amount of sub focus on top of all that though, which is definitely what trips everyone up.

I was surprised Nya scored as well as she did, especially for joining the team late. In fact, if you take off the bonus point I gave to Jay, she would actually score higher than him. Even though she doesn’t have a solo focus season, she has a decent amount of focus in 3 consecutive seasons. Also, Wu made it on the board, which is good for him.

Again, unsurprisingly, Cole scored lowest in almost all categories. There’s a reason the Cole fans are pissed. The 0 high ranking points stat is really telling and seriously stings. But, the one thing he did score well on was times points were earned. Though he has little personal focus, the focus that he has is recurring and spread across the series. I would also like to add that he didn’t even score any points for his ongoing friendship arc with Jay, which did put his character fairly center stage for a while. I mean, though Cole doesn’t have any big focus areas, I would still say he’s got some decent development with several multi season arcs. He’s definitely not being totally ignored by the series or anything.

On the opposite side, one of the saddest things to me personally is that Zane was not only tied with Cole for focus points, but also was ranked lowest (lower than even Wu) in times points were earned. That means season 3 is the only point in the series when he held any meaningful and sustained focus. There are no shorts for him, or larger important plot lines, it’s just season 3. I mean, he was supposed to have more focus than Cole, right? We always rag on the fact that Cole doesn’t have a season, so he must have the least focus. Zane had his own season, surely he would have scored higher! But when you look back you realize that even though he’s had presence, the amount of meaningful stuff he actually does is pretty minimal. Seriously, writers, time to get this droid some sub focus.

Speaking of droids, I would like to bring up something I’m sure no one else was thinking about while doing this, and that’s Pixal. Pixal has been a part of the show since season 3 and has technically been working on the team ever since Season 4. By the looks of season 11, the writers want to include her as part of the main cast. They gave her a plot with Kai, Cole, and Jay where she basically led the defense of the monastery. She got her first solo episode in the ice chapter. Though the episodes aren’t out yet, season 12 episode descriptions seem to have her taking on a more active and offensive role and operating on equal footing with Zane. She is a member of the core cast now. Although she did join recently, it is interesting that a full-fledged member of the team didn’t score any points. Both Lloyd and Nya officially joining the team earned them some sub focus points. I just find it interesting that Pixal’s joining the team didn’t get her the same. Maybe there’s a more formal ‘joining the team’ arc for her coming in the future, but as for right now, she remains in this strange focus-less limbo.

My favorite finding though is that the ensemble category just dominated pretty much everything. Ninjago at its core is an ensemble show, and I honestly think it’s at its best when it just functions as one. What are some of the fandom’s least favorite seasons? 3, 6, and 7, right? These are all very clear-cut ninja focus seasons. I really think the fandom needs to stop forcing ninja labels onto every single season, cuz it really doesn’t do them any real service. It just makes you disappointed that X ninja is getting yet another season, or this X ninja season isn’t focusing enough on X ninja. Just enjoy the show for what it is! An ensemble show! The ninja shine best when they interact off of each other, not when they’re left to process their troubles alone.

Anyway, those are my thoughts. Feel free to comment any other cool data connections I missed! I hope this did a little bit to enhance your perspective on focus seasons, focus ninja, etc. It also probably made focus sound like a non word, so I’m sorry about that one. I know this is a long one, so seriously, thanks for reading!