#and that makes the fact he took moody's one more iconic

[katakosmos]

pt.1 of me sharing my rosier family hc cause their lore in my head is insane:

what i noticed is that in the magical world every pureblood family has its own particular way of punishing. from what we know about the blacks and the crouches, we see that the blacks tortured their children only after they had disobeyed, while the crouches were more likely to prevent them from making mistakes in the first place. in both cases, they never told their children what they did wrong.

for the rosiers, however, it was important that the children understood what mistakes they had made, and that they had gone against the family principles. the punishment only came after the teaching.

the concept is simple: you can't hide anything from your family.

the rosiers didn't use unforgivable curses, but only a skillful alternation of veritaserum and occlumency, so that no one could ever get used to either one or the other. if any family member suspected that you had done something forbidden, they could demand to know the truth. and then it was revealed in front of everyone.

humiliation was the best method the rosier family had to teach a lesson to their children and teenagers. the memory of that horrible feeling of shame and dishonor was what prevented the young rosiers from making the same mistakes again.

sometimes, when children were a little more insolent, they also resorted to physical wounds: evan's room is plastered with his and barty's letters, so that everyone can read them and he can never take them off, but that nasty cut above his eye that made him half blind was the result of his disobedience. the wounds are not hidden, but clearly visible, so that everyone, everywhere, both at home and at school, knows.

and if people suspect that the family is abusive, who cares! who has the courage to go against a powerful pureblood family?

[agentnico]

Longlegs (2024) review

His legs aren’t THAT long, jeez.

Plot: FBI Agent Lee Harker is assigned to an unsolved serial killer case that takes an unexpected turn, revealing evidence of the occult. Harker discovers a personal connection to the killer and must stop him before he strikes again.

Before we get to the movie itself I must applaud Neon for giving this film such a stellar marketing campaign. Most common complaint about modern day trailers is that they show too much of the movie. They’re essentially summaries of the entire film, giving away every major set piece, with the whole narrative showcased from beginning to end, leaving little to the imagination. Makes one wonder why even it’s worth seeing the actual movie when you’ve already essentially been spoiled. Hence why Neon’s advertising strategy for Longlegs stands out so much. Throughout the last half of the year they have been releasing small 10 second untitled cryptic teaser snippets that intentionally left the premise vague, as discontinuous editing was employed to display snapshots of brutal murders, ominous world building and nightmarishly surreal images of primal fears including snakes and blood. In fact, those teasers didn’t even show the film’s title, just the release date. Then there were the billboards that had a phone number that, if you called, you’d get to hear Nicolas Cage. Speaking of Cage, again the teasers don’t really show him at all, allowing for the build up of his mysterious character to be left till the audience were in the cinema seats. Then when the early reviews came out, praises were hailed as well as comparisons to Silence of the Lambs, so naturally expectations were high.

Unfortunately, the truth is much more disappointing: Longlegs is just another run-of-the-mill, albeit well-executed, serial killer film. It’s evident that director Oz Perkins took inspiration from the aforementioned Silence of the Lambs, as well as the ambiance and possession themes of David Lynch’s iconic series Twin Peaks. However unlike those films there is a lack of urgency or mythos here, with the FBI agent feeling somewhat unimportant to the grand scheme of the story, and Maika Monroe’s acting is as plain as a cardboard. That shtick worked for her in 2014’s thriller The Guest, as there she played a moody teenager, however in Longlegs she simply comes off wooden. Look, all I’m saying is she’s no Jodie Foster. There too is a lack of backstory or explanation in regards to the supernatural elements, and I feel like the film wouldn’t have hurt having an extra scene or two to delve deeper into Longlegs’ powers and his origins.

I love Nicolas Cage. He’s one of the greatest actors working today, and truly is one of my favourites as he manages to elevate any film he is in to another level. As Longlegs he is fantastic. They use his expressionistic style of acting very cleverly here, by making him quite over the top with his voice, but done is a creepily eerie and weird way and scenes with him are great. However, as per the marketing and the first half of this movie, Longlegs is mostly hidden from the view of the audience. We see corners of his face or him blurred out in the background, and I feel like that mystery added to the hidden uncomfortable nature of his character. So when we do finally get to see him, Cage is on top form however the make-up department have given him this mask to wear and it looks really cheap. Evidently they had a limited budget with this film, but that’s why the technique of showing a bit less worked more than showing the entire thing, as he does look kind of goofy. Also, Cage is really under-used here. Already mentioned about the lack of backstory, but also in general he’s only in maybe 3-4 scenes but isn’t allowed space to delve too deeper into the demonic mindset of this character.

I do appreciate Oz Perkins’ directing style, as the cinematography was solid and he has some fun with changing the aspect ratio throughout the film to create a sense of claustrophobia, and each scene is filled with that unsettling sense of paranoia, however the movie does suffer from a slow overdrawn pace, and the central mystery in reality is so predictable you can guess what’s happening a mile away. Then when the movie ends fairly abruptly, there’s definitely a lack of satisfaction when it’s over.

It does feel that due to the effective hyped up marketing and the comparisons to Silence of the Lambs have built this movie up to being something truly spectacular, when in reality it’s an okay serial killer flick with elements of the supernatural that has moments of greatness, primarily due to Nicolas Cage, even though, again, his legs aren’t even that long.

Overall score: 6/10

[nimsajlove]

road to recovery (II/?)

Second part, I dont really know WHAT this is. But it still ended up here, so you jugde it.

Ao3     Brothers-AU          Part I , Part III

*~*

„That's it for today, let's set up the camp.“, Cody instructed over the com, general relief and approval got back to him and the men crashed down, right where they were standing. The few shinys they had with them were careful to set up the tents immediately. The older clones watched them for a few seconds, amused, and Cody finally took pity on them. „Put that stuff away and sit down for a moment. This is not going to be rated by anyone.“, he instructed the younger ones and reluctantly they let go of their tasks.

Cody watched with a smile as the men gathered in groups to take a few minutes to breath, he was about to do the same and had just put his backpack down when his communicator flashed. Huh, so was the cruiser back? Unusual, the Admiral had planned to stay away for at least two more rotations. He took the call, an unexpected voice greeted him. „Commander Cody, I hope it's going well with the new men.“ It sounded like Plo Koon was smiling. Cody was never quite sure about that, the General rarely sounded worried or restless. He always seemed to be at peace. „General Plo Koon, what can I do for you?“, Cody answered and decided that he could sit down despite the conversation. „Nothing for me Commander, but I'm here to do a favor for Ahsoka.“, Plo Koon admitted. Ah, things got a little clearer now. Cody didn't know much about what Ahsoka had to do in the Jedi Temple. But he knew she hadn't left the temple walls in weeks. A message from Rex, full of concern for the young woman, had also made Cody thoughtful. „She convinced the council to send Kenobi back to you. The shuttle is just getting ready to take off.“, Plo Koon explained when Cody didn't react immediately.

That was good! Even if this was more of an enjoyable hunt than a battlefield, the presence of the General would lift the spirits of the men even further. Hardly thought through, a fine drizzle set in and sullenly Cody glanced up at the darkening sky, which peered through the canopy of leaves. In a short period of time, the rain would continue to pick up and guaranteed not to stop at night. It made the nights on that moon surprisingly cold. The men around him began to pitch the tents and Cody remembered the blank look General Kenobi had had when he left a few days ago. „Is there anything I and the men should watch out for?“, Cody asked and he heard a low murmur on the other end, was that Wolffe? „I think you will know best how to handle him, that is all.“, Plo Koon replied. „Got it, General.“, Cody muttered thoughtfully and cut the connection. That was... not particularly helpful. So was Kenobi's condition unchanged?

Cody was about to take off his helmet when a message appeared. Cody fixed the little icon and it opened.

‚The General is not sure himself. Tano seems to be the only one to know whats going on.‘

So Wolffe was there after all! It was disturbing that the Jedi could not assess the condition of one of their own. On the other hand, it was kind of nothing new after so many suicide missions they had sent Kenobi on... If Kenobi was still as moody and slow as he was a few days ago, then Cody had to keep as much stress away from him as possible . He looked around, took off his helmet and put it next to his backpack. Then he went to help with the tents.

*~*

The last tent was up, the rain had gotten heavier and pattered relentlessly on Cody's helmet. Even though he was leaning directly against a tree. He wondered briefly if he should wait outside any longer, when a noise caught his attention. He looked up hastily and took a few steps away from the tree, a shuttle flew over the camp and landed in the small clearing on the edge of which Cody was standing. As soon as it touched down, the door opened and the ramp extended.

Kenobi wasn't the first figure Cody saw. In fact, it was a different, familiar face. Echo took a step forward on the ramp before waiting and looking back. The Jedi appeared behind him, Cody saw at first glance that his condition had only worsened. He moved slowly, his shoulders pulled forward and his hands hanging limply by his sides. Kenobi followed Echo and as he approached, Cody saw the deep shadows under the Jedi's eyes. „General.“, Cody greeted him carefully and Kenobi nodded once. Echo approached Cody and handed him a datapad, so was he just a messenger? „Wolffe had asked me to accompany him, and on the occasion Ahsoka thought I would give you all the information about the enemy positions that she could find here.“, the ARC explainedand although his calm voice sounded forced. There was deep concern in his eyes. It was clear that Kenobi's condition had caught his eye too. „Thanks, I'll take care of everything.“, Cody muttered, taking another look at his General, Echo nodded and turned back. Cody waited until he disappeared into the shuttle and took off again. Only then did he fully turn to Kenobi.

On closer inspection, the General didn't just look tired. His cheeks looked thinner than a few weeks ago. A development that he had been watching concerned for some time. And nothing seemed to have improved in his absence! The reddish hair stuck close to Kenobis skull, the rain had soaked the General in no time. An annoying quirk of the place, Cody liked it less and less. Maybe he should just make sure that Kenobi got dry as soon as possible... „Sir, we've set up a place to sleep for you.“, Cody started carefully and when the Jedi slowly nodded, he waited. But instead of answering, he just pulled a stiff hand from the folds of his cloak and told Cody to go ahead. He did so hesitantly, every few steps he glanced over his shoulder. The General didn't walk right next to him, as usual. No, he trudged a few steps behind Cody, placing his feet so unevenly that Cody feared he would fall. Where was the great General Kenobi? This was worse than any injury, any period of insomnia Kenobi had had during the war. And Cody knew exactly when the Jedi was sleeping and when not! He had spent an eternity studying Obi Wan Kenobi and knew the difference between a wakeful look and the soft shadows that did not disappear even after long meditation.

Kenobi didn't even look like he was meditating at the moment. He was just... empty. From the glassy gaze that was dull on the floor to the sagging shoulders. Oh, thank the maker that the men were already in their tents. Cody himself probably wouldn't sleep that night, he had sacrificed his tent for his General and would just make sure that the Jedi would actually sleep. Then he would find a nice tree for himself, hide from the rain, and study Ahsoka's plans. This was exactly how the evening would go and no different!

Cody quickly threw these plans overboard when he opend the entry of the tent and Kenobi looked at him confused. „This is not my tent.“, stated the Jedi, so he was still mentally present after all. Impressive. „Right Sir, this is mine. We don't have yours with us, so you will stay here.“, Cody explained and when Kenobi still looked at him confused, without moving, he reconsidered his judgment on the General's condition. His eyes seemed even more glassy than a few moments ago. And he was still wet. Sighing, Cody put a hand on the Jedi's shoulder and pushed him into the tent, then locked the entrance behind him. There was a soft splash and Cody whirled around, Kenobi was sitting on the floor in his wet clothes and didn't seem to notice that he was shaking.

Great, Plo Koon could have mentioned that Kenobi's condition had gotten worse. A little uncertainly, Cody took off his helmet and put it on the floor next to the entrance so that he wouldn't forget it later. Kenobi shifted a bit and whatever he was trying to do, it seemed to cost energy. The tremors got worse, if Cody didn't intervene... „Sir, we put a set of Blacks aside for you.“, Cody muttered and approached his General, he had noticed that Kenobi was traveling without luggage. Again. Cody would contact the Admiral at the earliest opportunity to get some things from Kenobi's quarters. Kenobi didn't react, so he put a hand on the Jedi's shoulder and squeezed lightly, he looked up. At least something! „It's okay, I just have to keep an eye on her...“, the Jedi muttered. Cody didn't understand any of it. Wow, something new. Couldn't the Jedi speak clearly? But this was HIS Jedi, so it would be worth a try… „Her?“, Cody asked carefully and crouched down so he brought himself to Kenobi's eye level. The General's gaze seemed far away. „Ahsoka.“ So that was the simple answer, Kenobi wanted to keep protecting her despite the huge distance between him and Ahsoka Tano? There was no longer any reason to do so, the war was over and Ahsoka was bound to new duties in the temple. At least for now. Besides, the girl was great at taking care of herself!

Cody sent a quick prayer to whoever and asked for a little more patience, this would probably be his job for quite some time. Taking care of his lost Jedi. He had to admit there were worse things than getting your own General back on his feet. But there was something in him that didn't like it when Kenobi looked at him blankly. It almost hurt. He knew the feeling, mostly it occurred when Kenobi was floating in a bacta tank for more than 24 hours and Cody had no choice but to trust the technology and medics. Maybe it was the helplessness that always came over him. Maybe not. There were more important puzzles to be solved now. For example, whether the death of Skywalker really had grown such strong fear of loss in Kenobi. Cody eyed his General one more time and decided, yes. „She is in the temple, safe. As soon as she moves, Rex knows it.“, Cody tried to get rid of the fear. Chaos in his head, infinite calm in his voice. He had always been able to do that. Kenobi still didn't move, okay. Fine. Then Cody would have to resort to good old trooper methods now. “I'm sorry Sir, you are not a shiny. But you act like one, so…”, Cody muttered, reaching with his hands under Kenobi's arms, heaving him back onto his feet. The Jedi swayed briefly, then caught himself and rubbed his face with one hand. That was still soaking wet! Kriff.

With one hand, Cody supported Kenobi at the elbow, he didn't trust the Jedi's legs, with the other he grabbed the clothes that he had put aside for the General. Ah, a medic had been so free to contribute a towel. Very nice. "Change, now.", instructed Cody and indeed his command tone seemed to get through to Kenobi. With still stiff hands the Jedi tried to open the outer robe, no chance. Cody knew that since an injury on such a stupid chunk of ice of planet, Kenobi's hands had been reluctant to cooperate on bad days. Today was a bad day, and Cody dared to say the worst of them all. Sighing, he put the things on the nearby bunk before he began to help the Jedi with quick fingers. If another member of the Order entered this tent now, he would find himself in serious need of explanation as a Commander. But, luckily for him, Kenobi was the only Jedi around in the system. So it was easy to get him out of his layered robes quickly. Hey, the undershirt was dry. That was at least something. Cody quickly took the black top from the bunk, held it open with his hands and held it so that Kenobi only had to stick his arms and head into it. He looked up briefly and when he met the confused and tired gaze of the Jedi, Cody's thoughts suddenly smoothed out. How many of his men had looked at him like that at least once? He never thought that it would be his own General's turn at some point. Even though he was taller than Cody, he looked so small and confused. „It's okay, I'll help you. Okay?“, Cody muttered, this time his gentle tone echoing the tenor of his thoughts. This was perhaps more familiar to him than he had initially thought. Kenobi slowly reached out his hands and Cody helped him into the top with a gentle smile. Well, that looked a lot better than the wet robes. Cody was glad that Kenobi wasn't that much bigger than the clones, otherwise they would have had serious problems finding clothes.

When Kenobi's head came back into his visual he blinked a few times and his eyes seemed clearer. „I am sorry Commander.“, he muttered, and Cody felt a small flicker of pride. He had made part of the way, Kenobi sought contact with him on his own initiative. That was good, for Cody it was a sign that the initial shock had been overcome. Well, better late than never. Right? „It's okay.“, he muttered and directed Kenobi to the bunk, there he pressed the black pants into the Jedi's hand. „You can do that?“, he asked and couldn't hide the slightly teasing tone. Kenobi nodded, satisfied Cody straightened up again and began to dispose of all weapons, carefully stacking them next to his helmet. Because no matter how calm and familiar the whole thing was, watching his General was definitely not appropriate. Only when Kenobi sat down again with a sigh, Cody glanced back and smiled contentedly, he came back over to the bunk and grabbed the towel. And while Kenobi stared a little annoyed at his unruly hands, Cody began carefully to dry the Jedi's wet hair. Well, as good as possible with a towel. „Cody?“, Kenobi asked softly. „Mhm?“ „Why did that happen?“ Ah, at this point they have been allready a few weeks ago, the Jedi seemed to keep spinning in circles. And Cody followed, of course, and was ready to have that conversation again. Until Kenobi would break out of this cycle. „Because Sidius planned it that way.“, he muttered his answer, waiting and knowing Kenobi would ponder Sidius now. About the failure of the Jedi. He had done that the last couple of times. „Was I a bad master?“ Cody paused, that was a different question than usual. He had no pre-planned answer for this one! Kriff. His pause seemed to prompt Kenobi to just keep babbling. „I should have saved him...“ „Sir...“ „Why was I so blind?“ „General?“ „I was his master and I betrayed him, like I left down Ahsoka before.“ „General Kenobi.“ „It was my fau-“ „Obi Wan!“

Cody grumpily took the towel down and stared at the Jedi, he had finally managed to break through Kenobi's senseless talk. He looked up at Cody with sad blue eyes. Cody wasn't exactly sure what he was up to. But gently straightening Obi Wan Kenobi's head seemed like a good option. „You are an excellent master. Ahsoka survived this war because she watched you just like she watched Skywalker. It's not your fault that your padawan chose a path, where you can't follow him.” Obi Wan blinked slowly, then looked down. Had Cody ruined today's little progress? He hoped not, to start all over again might get his patience to snap for today. But well... had there ever been anything Cody hadn't done for his General? Okay, maybe he would be able to start all over again, should it be necessary.

„Sorry.“, Obi Wan muttered into his beard and sighing, Cody put the towel aside. „It's okay, neither you nor I can help it.“, he tried to calm down and although Obi Wan nodded, Cody could not fail to see that he had started to shiver again. However, this could also come from the cold and exhaustion. Because Cody was sure Obi Wan wasn't crying. Not yet at least, this phase would definitely come. „How about some sleep?“, Cody suggested, sitting on the bunk next to Obi Wan. He had never dropped formality with his General. But tonight was sure to be okay, Obi Wan needed a friend, not a Commander.

„Can‘t.“ Obi Wan sounded as exhausted and empty as he looked. The Jedi tapped his temple with one hand. „Too loud.“ Then he let his head fall to one side, landing on Cody's shoulder. That was okay too. Reluctantly, he raised a hand and ran his fingers through Obi Wan's hair, slid up to the inclined temple and began to massage it in gentle circular movements. Despite the armor, he could feel the tension leaving Obi Wan's body. „Better?“, he asked anyway and got a weak sound of approval. Well then, he probably wouldn't leave this tent today after all. „Sleep, I'll stay here.“

*~*

The rain outside was pounding heavily on the tent, the temperature was cool and the air was uncomfortably wet. But Cody made no move to at least keep the cold away. Instead, he wrapped the thin blanket from his backpack a little tighter around his shoulders, reached into his helmet, which was lying next to him, and found the regulator for the usually very helpful warming function of his armor. That would keep his legs warm, the upper part of the armor he had piled next to the bunk.

Like that he sat slightly bent forward on the foot end of the bunk and while his left hand rested on Obi Wan's lower leg, he used the data pad on his knees with his right. Beside him Obi Wan was shaking, despite the thick blanket and insulating blacks, and Cody Thumb ran reassuring circles over the Jedi's lower leg. They urgently needed to get rations, preferably the red ones for high energy needs. If his body was supplied with enough energy, Obi Wan wouldn't suffer from the cold too much... For a moment he heard the footsteps of the two troopers on guard outside, then they fell silent again. He turned his attention to the datapad, a file at the top of the list could only have been written by Ahsoka. It was handwritten, kriff that girl had a bad hand. Sighing, he concentrated to decipher the sentences.

A brief account of how she organized Kenobi's trip. That she had personally chosen Echo to go with him. That she hoped it would help the Jedi.

‚He's very attached to you and if I'm right and you reciprocate those feelings, then I'm confident things will turn out better. I entrust you with its wellbeing.

P.S. Ask your men about the red ration bars. I gave them a few more shortly before you left. I had the feeling that they could be unsefull.‘

Well done, Ahs‘ika. She must have been one step ahead of him then. Maybe two. Cody glanced at the sleeping figure of Obi Wan, the light from the datapad just enough to see his face. Cody leaned forward carefully and pulled the covers a little higher until they almost touched Obi Wan's chin. The Sith should get him if he wouldn't help his Jedi. Ahsoka could rely on Cody.

[blackswaneuroparedux]

The Desert Fox: Separating the myth and the man of Field Marshal Erwin Rommel

Sweat saves blood, blood saves lives, and brains saves both.

- Field Marshal Erwin Rommel

War hero or Nazi villain? Field Marshal Erwin Rommel is, to this day, the subject of heated debate. He was the “Desert Fox,” revered by Allied Forces for his supposed chivalry, and allegedly implicated in the “Valkyrie” plot to assassinate Hitler.

But present day historians have increasingly come to re-examine the life and the legend of this most iconic of World War Two generals.

I first became interested in this question after reading Corelli Barnett’s magisterial account ‘The Desert Generals’ back when I was in Sandhurst. I read other World War Two books before then of course but it was only at Sandhurst did I first give serious consideration towards Rommel as ‘the Good German’ general. I read other books too like General Sir David Fraser’s ‘Knight’s Cross: a life of Field Marshal Rommel’ as a stand out one on military stuff but a very cursory examination of his early life and beliefs.

Rommel was a legend in the making.

Whichever side of the debate one falls on there is no doubt that Erwin Rommel, was one  of the most celebrated and respected generals of the Second World War  and indeed, some even say one of the greatest generals of all time. His prowess on the  battlefield earned him more than a battlefield earned him the  admiration of both his men and his enemies alike, with adversaries  lining up to pay tribute to their greatest foe in the field.

“We  have a very daring and skilful opponent against us, and, may I say  across the havoc of war, a great general,” said no less than Winston  Churchill himself of Rommel, just after the war ended in his book on the  conflict, The Second World War. 

When Churchill came under fire in the press for praising a man seen as a  Nazi, he doubled down, commenting “He also deserves our respect  because, although a loyal German soldier, he came to hate Hitler and all  his works, and took part in the conspiracy to rescue Germany by  displacing the maniac and tyrant.

For this, Rommel paid the  forfeit of his life. In the sombre wars of modern democracy, chivalry  finds no place… Still, I do not regret or retract the tribute I paid to  Rommel, unfashionable though it was judged.”

Indeed,  the extent to which Rommel was a Nazi is one of the great questions that has been asked since the war and one that is debated to this day. Rommel, while respected by those who fought him from afar as generals  and indeed, thought of a genius to many of those who fought beneath him  in the Wehrmacht, has often faced criticism of his tactics and his  decision making, with some post-war writers holding him up as a man  prone to erratic behaviour on the battlefield and a great sufferer from  the stresses of the job.

“Rommel  was jumpy, wanted to do everything at once, then lost interest. Rommel  was my superior in command in Normandy. I cannot say Rommel wasn’t a  good general. When successful, he was good; during reverses, he became  depressed,” said Sepp Dietrich, who fought under Rommel in France and  ended the war as the most senior figure in the Waffen-SS.

A  similar sentiment was expressed by Luftwaffe field marshal Albert Kesselring, a contemporary of Rommel’s and an officer of similar rank,  who later wrote: “He was the best leader of fast-moving troops but only  up to army level. Above that level it was too much for him. Rommel was  given too much responsibility. He was a good commander for a corps of  army but he was too moody, too changeable. One moment he would be  enthusiastic, next moment depressed.”

Who  was this great man then? We know him today as a great tactician, a charismatic leader, a respected general and the last German participant  in the so-called “clean war”. But how true are those assessments? Was  the Desert Fox as chivalrous as his enemies thought him to be?

Rommel was far from just a Second World War hero – he distinguished himself in World War One too.

Rommel  graduated from the military academy in Gdansk – then known as Danzig  and an integral part of Germany – in 1912 and was immediately posted back to his home region of Baden-Württemberg.

When war  broke out in 1914, Rommel was ready to face his first major conflict posting. As a battery commander within the 124th division of the German  army, he would distinguish himself and gain his first recognition from  the higher-ups.

Erwin saw his  first action at the age of 23 on August 22, 1914, near the French town  of Verdun. Rommel led his platoon into a French garrison, catching them  by surprise and personally leading the charge ahead of the rest of his  men, earning credits for bravery and ingenuity. He would be awarded the  Iron Cross, Second Class, for his actions, a promotion to First  Lieutenant and a transfer into the Royal Württemberg Mounted Battalion  as a company – rather than platoon – commander.

Rommel  would go on to fight in the German campaigns in Italy and Romania, with  particular note being taken by the German Army hierarchy of his conduct in the Italian campaign. The Royal Württemberg Mounted Battalion fought  at the Battle of Caporetto, the twelfth battle to be fought along the  Isonzo River in modern-day Slovenia, and one that would go down as  probably the largest military defeat in the history of Italy.

Rommel  would play a central role, leading the Royal Württemberg, with just 150  men, to capture an estimated 9,000 Italians, complete with all their  guns, for a cost of just 6 of his own men.

The  young Rommel used the challenging, mountainous terrain of Caporetto – now known as Kobarid – to outflank the Italians and convince them that  they were totally encircled by Germans, when in fact there was just one  battalion. Fearing that they were surrounded, the Italians surrendered  en masse and were surprised to find that so few men were able to capture  them.

The efforts of the German Army to break into the  Italian Front through the Slovenian Alps – at the time, part of Italy –  were vital in furthering an advance towards Venice, though the Germans  were eventually stopped and turned back.

Rommel  was awarded the Pour Le Merite award by the Kaiser for his leadership  at Caporetto, but also gained the respect and loyalty of his men, who  were not only impressed by the way in which his tactics had won the battle, but also by the way that he had stood up to the German Army high command and argued for more and better food for his men. The legend of Rommel was growing apace.

Rommel was an effective teacher as well as a military leader.

It shouldn’t be too surprising that Rommel was a capable teacher: his father had been a headmaster, while the ability to communicate his ideas  effectively in the field would lead to some of his most enduring  military victories. There was no point coming up with a revolutionary  tactic to win a battle if you couldn’t then inform and inspire your men  well enough for them to then go and carry it out.

At  the end of the First World War, Rommel was entering his late 20s and  had already been widely feted for his military prowess. While it might  have seemed a little dull compared to the derring-do on the Isonzo, the  role of the Royal Württenberg Mountain Battalion lay much closer to  home, with German society slowly disintegrating into civil wars between,  on the left, socialists who wanted Germany to undergo a revolution  similar to that which had recently occurred in Russia, and on the right,  groups such as the Freikorps, disgruntled ex-soldiers and nationalist,  anti-communist paramilitaries that would go on to form the kernel of the  Nazi Party.

Rommel,  recently promoted again to the rank of Captain, was ordered to use his  soldiers in a policing capacity, putting down insurrections all over  southern Germany. It was during this period that he showed some of the  sense of restraint that would distinguish his conduct in North Africa  during World War Two, trying to avoid the use of force against crowds of  civilians where possible.

After  the Weimar Republic took hold, however, the country somewhat stabilised  and Rommel found himself in Dresden, teaching new recruits. He had been  promoted in turn to Major, then Lieutenant Colonel, placing him in the  very highest echelons of the Treaty of Versailles-reduced German Army.

He  was recognised as one of the prime instructors in that army and wrote a book, “Infantry Attacks”, that furthered his theories on warfare and  explained his experiences in the Izonzo – it sold incredibly well and  increased Rommel’s personal fame, as well as bringing him to the  attention of Adolf Hitler, who was known to have read the book.

Rommel met Hitler in Goslar, Germany in 1934, while Rommel was posted as battalion commander. Hitler’s charisma and promises to reestablish Germany as a world power after the crippling results of World War I inspired Rommel to become a fervent supporter of the Nazi Party.

The two men had several encounters following this, and Rommel rose through the ranks on Hitler’s personal recommendation. But it was ultimately Hitler’s liking for Rommel’s book Infantry Attacks that led to his becoming the commander of Hitler’s personal guards during his tour of the Sudetenland.

By  the 1930s with Hitler fully secured in power, the German Army, for whom Rommel worked, and the Nazi state were more and more inseparable. It would be this coming together that prompted a major dilemma for  the career soldiers such as Rommel: did the duty lie to their country,  and whoever might be governing it, or to the party, that was coming to  define what that country was about?

Rommel was a committed Nazi and not the “decent face” of the German Army.

Rommel’s antagonism wasn’t so much against Nazism as it was towards the Nazis in leadership who led it. His committment to Nazism eroded as the war took a wrong turn and as Hitler increasingly became erratic in his military decision making that Rommel grew increasingly frustrated.

Just  how much of a Nazi Rommel was is one of the biggest questions that is debated about him to this day. It is largely due to the Rommel myth that  was perpetuated by the likes of Winston Churchill after the war that  Rommel was taken by the victorious Allies as “the good Nazi”, or the  honest general who happened to be being ordered about by the Nazis,  merely a career soldier who followed orders and stayed out of politics.

Let’s  put that one to bed, here and now. Rommel was an early adopter of the Nazi Party and a committed believer in the ideals of  National  Socialism, while also being an officer who regularly disobeyed orders –  making both commonly held assumptions wrong.

That said, he  is one of the few figures of that period who is still revered in Germany, who still has streets named after him and memorials in his  honour. It seems that the myth persists in his homeland too, despite  countless books and articles to the contrary.

One  such author attempting to shake this idea from the public consciousness is Wolfgang Proske, a historian and history professor from Rommel’s hometown on Heidenheim, who has written 16 books about his town’s most  famous son. “Rommel was a deeply convinced Nazi and, contrary to popular  opinion, he was also an anti-Semite. It is not only the  Germans who have fallen into the trap of believing that Rommel was  chivalrous. The British have been convinced by these stories as well,”  he told British newspaper The Independent in 2011 when a new memorial to  the Field Marshal was unveiled.

“At  the time when Rommel marched into Tripoli, more than a quarter of the city’s population were Jews,” Proske continued, “There is evidence which  shows that Rommel forbad his troops to buy anything from Jewish  traders. Later on, he used the Jews as slave laborers. Some of them were  even used as so-called ‘mine dogs’ who were ordered to walk over  minefields ahead of his advancing troops.”

While  Rommel was never a member of the Nazi Party, it is widely known that Wehrmacht figures, particularly high-ranking ones such as Rommel,  welcomed Hitler coming to power. Those, like Rommel, whose backgrounds  had shut them off from the highest ranks of the Kaiser’s forces, saw the  new government as one that would see them move to the top of the tree  and as such were generally in favor of it.

Goebbels  himself wrote in 1942, when Rommel was in the running for the role of Commander-in-Chief of the Wehrmacht, that the Field Marshal was ”ideologically sound, is not just sympathetic to the National Socialists. He is a National Socialist; he is a troop leader with a gift for  improvisation, personally courageous and extraordinarily inventive. These are the kinds of soldiers we need.”

Rommel owes a large part of his fame to the fact that he made fools of opposing general - well almost (Patton would disagree).

Rommel’s  prowess as a general is unquestioned. On the back of his heroics as a low-level officer in World War One added to by his role teaching at the forefront of modern military tactics, he was perfectly positioned to lead the Nazi war machine into the second conflict.

When  the war began, he was leading Hitler’s personal protection battalion –  so much for a man who kept a distance from the center of Nazi power –  and thus was privy to the highest levels of discussions regarding  tactics, particularly the way in which to use mechanized infantry such  as tanks. After the early successes in Poland, Rommel moved with the  front to France and commanded Panzer units, before distinguishing  himself against the British at Arras and leading the drive towards  Dunkirk.

With the British  regrouping on the other side of the Channel after a crushing defeat –  which, lest we forget, Dunkirk was – the focus turned to North Africa, where Rommel would lead the newly-established Afrika Korps. He was the superstar of the German Army, a reputation largely built on his ability  to vanquish the British, whom he would now face again in the desert. It was at this time that his nickname, The Desert Fox, was coined by the  British press, who sought to create a figure against which the war could  be fought.

The legacy of Rommel as the acceptable Nazi could be seen to stem from this point when the media in Britain saw fit  to create a worthy adversary for their troops to combat. Rommel was  thought to be an old-style soldier rather than an out-and-out Nazi:  though we have seen that he was a Nazi, and he had arguably committed war crimes by summarily executing prisoners in France just weeks before.

Come  the victory of the British at Tobruk and El Alamein, the British propaganda machine had even more than a noble adversary. They had a  noble adversary against whom they had lost in Europe and then  subsequently defeated: when the characters of the British side,  Auchinleck and Montgomery, were spoken of, they needed someone of equal  weight to make their victories seem even more heroic, a role that fit  Rommel perfectly.

With morale at home low after the  Dunkirk evacuation, the victories in North Africa were vital to keeping  spirits up, and a glorious victory against an equally glorious enemy  sounded even better. Churchill himself called Rommel an “extraordinary  bold and clever opponent” and a “great field commander” in the House of  Commons in 1942 – after he had just been defeated.

Rommel’s reputation for chivalry in North Africa might not just be down to his own intentions.

Of  course, some aspects the Allied propaganda about Rommel – that he was a  fair fighter, that he respected the ideals of chivalry when other  Germans didn’t – were generally true.

It is undoubted  that, by and large, Rommel adhered to the rules of war when plenty of  Nazi generals didn’t, but it bears mentioning that the reason that so many German generals were so callous is that they were ordered to be  like that. Orders within the Nazi war machine came down from high and  were often brutal in their nature: summary execution of prisoners,  rounding up of Jews and other minorities, scorched earth policies. That  was just the orders aimed at enemies: often generals would be ordered to  stand their ground to the death when all military logic told them to  make a tactical retreat.

Rommel’s dedication to upholding the “war  without hate” as he called the more traditional methods of war is up for debate, but certainly, he did take measure to negate the harsher aspects. That said, there are other factors that question whether his commitment to the “war without hate” was intentional, circumstantial or ideologically-driven.

When most German generals were likely to commit acts of ethnic cleansing, Rommel  was not generally faced with the question. North Africa, where this reputation was developed, had hardly any Jews, for example, and other potential targets for Nazi aggression were protected by being citizens of Italy and Rommel was wary of standing on the toes of their allies.  That said, many within the North African Jewish community are reported  as having felt that they were spared from the horrors suffered by Jews  in Europe by the actions of the Afrika Korps, led by Rommel.

It  is also widely accepted that he refused to execute captured Jewish prisoners and hated the use of slave labour. As far as his own troops  were concerned, Rommel repeatedly refused orders directly from Hitler.  When, at the end of the second Battle of El Alamein, Hitler commanded  him directly not to retreat and to show his soldiers “no other road than  that to victory or death.”

Knowing that it was impossible for him to defeat the advancing British, who massively outnumbered his forces,  Rommel chose to ignore the letter from the Fuhrer and fled all the way  across North Africa to Tunisia rather than face death in the sand. While he was way too politically powerful to be censured by Hitler, actions  such as this were contributory to a wider feeling among the Nazi hierarchy that Rommel was not one of them.

He was a PR superstar in Germany, but was both respected and later suspected by the Nazi leadership. 

Rommel’s  reputation within Germany might well have made him untouchable for the  Nazi hierarchy, even when he did things that were in direct contradiction of the ideological and military strategy of the regime. They had invested so much time and so much weight in making him the  poster boy of their propaganda regime that, when Rommel turned out to be  less than what they had hoped for, they could not easily dispose of  him.

On paper, he was the perfect fit for their media machine: he was an early adopter of Nazism, already a hero from the  First World War and an excellent general, with victories aplenty. Moreover, they could cite the Allies reverence for him in their favor,  and Rommel himself was comfortable in the spotlight and relished the  attention.

Hitler was always wary of building up any one single figure too far – lest he be challenged  himself – but Goebbels, the chief propagandist, knew an opportunity when he saw it and Rommel could not be passed up. As Rommel’s media image  grew and grew, he became the darling of the public back home, but in the  corridors of power in Berlin, there were plenty of higher-ups who were  less convinced of his powers.

Even from the early days of the war in 1941, when Rommel was in France, some of those who fought  alongside him were doubting just how effective he actually was a  general. By the time that the war in North Africa had turned against him  in 1943, the German furthest expansions were contracting: the Battle of  Stalingrad had been lost in February and Rommel departed Tunisia in May.

It might have made sense if the Nazis had thought Rommel their best general, to send him to the  Eastern Front where the war was being lost. Perhaps, too, the brutal nature of the war on the Ostfront was seen as beyond Rommel’s nature:  this was not the time or place for “war without hate”, in the eyes of  the Nazi leadership.

Instead, he was dispatched to Italy. As Italy fell, Rommel was demoted from the head of the campaign to second in command to Albert Kesselring, alongside whom he had served throughout the North Africa campaigns.

Later in France, Rommel was the man in charge of building the Atlantic Wall that would protect Nazi-occupied France from Allied invasion: though he had warned heavily that his experiences in North Africa had  taught him that land and sea defences would be nothing if air supremacy allowed the Allies to destroy the Nazi army from above, Rommel was ignored.

After the defeat in North Africa, the retreat through  Greece and Italy and the failure to stop the D-Day invasions, his  reputation as a superstar general back home was in tatters.

Rommel’s reputation got a huge boost because of a 1951 film.

If Rommel’s reputation as a great leader was undermined by the  catastrophic defeats on the African, Italian and Western Fronts in the  last two years of the war, why was it that the so-called “Rommel Myth”  was so pervasive after the war? The theories are numerous, but one major contributing factor must be the success of the 1951 film, The Desert  Fox. Rommel was played by the iconic actor James Mason who won critical acclaim for his role.

Rommel was a  well-known figure in Allied countries and in 1950, the first biography  of the “good German” was released in the UK. Written by Desmond Young, a British brigadier-general who had himself been captured by Rommel during the war, “Rommel: The Desert Fox” was incredibly popular in Britain and cemented the position of the vanquished general as the acceptable enemy.  

His later involvement in the 1944 plot against Hitler did a lot to wash Rommel of the stain of Nazism – conveniently forgetting  the decade or so that he had spent close to the top of the regime – and  his position as the general who was beaten “fair and square” endeared  him to a British audience. After all, it’s much easier to build heroes of your own generals when they have beaten a general that you also  respect.

The 1951 film of The  Desert Fox further spread the myth and was widely popular in the UK. The  narrative of Rommel, the good German, being defeated by the heroic British in the clean war in North Africa was a far more palatable one in the burgeoning Cold War than one that emphasised the horrible destruction that had come through the Soviet victory in the East.

There  could be little appetite for a war with Russia when people were constantly being reminded of the horrific images that had emerged from the Eastern Front. Thus, the clean general of the fair fight in North Africa was an enticing idea.

The Germans, too, were all too pleased to go along with Rommel as their figurehead. Their army had been severely curtailed after their defeat,  but there was a clamour to de-Nazify the Wehrmacht and remove the stigma  from the German armed forces. The Bundeswehr, the new German army, was  more palatable to a post-war world when it could be seen as the legacy of good soldiers lead by bad politicians rather than an integral and vital part of the Nazi war machine.

Thus, the idea of The  Desert Fox was created and, to a large extent, still persists. He  remains the only Nazi to be lionised within Germany: public squares and streets bear his name, as does the largest barracks of the Bundeswehr.  Whether such a status is deserved, however, is still a question about which historians continue to argue.

During the first half of 2020 many countries have been reconsidering the roles of their historical figures - remembered in statue form - due to their controversial views or actions from today’s point of view.  In Britain, France and Belgium, statues of figures associated with the colonial past have become the target of public criticism in some quarters.  In the United States, not only statues of Confederate figures who defended slavery during the American Civil War were destroyed or even demolished, but also, for example, the discoverer of America, Christopher Columbus.

In Germany a similar process was also underway. The monument to the Wehrmacht Marshal Erwin Rommel in Heidenheim came under severe renewed scrutiny.

Germany's memorial to Field Marshal Erwin Rommel is perched on a hillside overlooking the middle-class town of Heidenheim an der Brenz where he was born 120 years ago. The words inscribed on the white limestone monument describe the legendary Second World War general as "chivalrous", "brave" and as a "victim of tyranny"

The monument, which was built in 1961 by the German Afrikakorps Association, aroused long-term controversy and in the past was repeatedly damaged by inscriptions that called Rommel a Nazi.  In 2014, Heidenheim City Hall expressed its intention to contrast the monument with another memorial building. By 2020 those calls took on a greater momentum.

The German artist Rainer Jooss was brought in by the municipal authorities to re-interpret the existing monument without having to destroy it completely. Jooss took as his starting point to focus on other parts of Rommel’s legacy. It was little known that Rommel had large minefields laid during the campaign of German troops in North Africa during World War II.  In Libya and Tunisia alone, at least 3,300 people have lost their legs and another 7,500 have been maimed since the statistics were kept in the 1980s. So Jooss designed black silhouette cut out of a maimed child victim of war to complement the monument.

“The monument does not represent the truth, but encourages us to look for it,” said Bernhard Ilg, Mayor of Baden-Württemberg, at the presentation of the monument’s design unveiling in July 2020. Jooss was more stoic. Joos believed it would be a mistake to remove the Rommel monument altogether,"If we let grass grow over it, that would mean the end of the important task of dealing with history.”

The artist behind the modification to the Heidenheim monument said his statue was purposefully made to look small next to the impressive limestone bloc."I wanted to confront the monumental (features) of the original memorial with the fragility of a land mine victim.” Jooss wanted and hoped that it was up to “the next generations to make a picture of themselves based on factual histography.”

Yet eminent historians have since dismissed the fresh silhouette plaque as a transparent attempt to avoid addressing the deep seated questions about Rommel. Indeed Rommel’s privileged position to being seen as the ideal role model for the Bundeswehr (the unified armed forces of Germany and their civil administration and procurement authorities). While recognising his great talents as a commander, they point out several problems: such as Rommel's involvement with a criminal regime and his political naivete. However, there are also many supporters of the continued commemoration of Rommel by the Bundeswehr, and there remains military buildings and streets named after him and portraits of him displayed.

The politician scientist Ralph Rotte called for his replacement with Manfred von Richthofen. Historian Cornelia Hecht opined that whatever judgement history will pass on Rommel – who was the idol of World War II as well as the integration figure of the post-war Republic – it was now the time in which the Bundeswehr should rely on its own history and tradition, and not any Wehrmacht commander. Jürgen Heiducoff, a retired Bundeswehr officer, had written that the maintenance of the Rommel barracks' names and the definition of Rommel as a German resistance fighter are capitulation before neo-Nazi tendencies. Heiducoff agreed with Bundeswehr generals that Rommel was one of the greatest strategists and tacticians, both in theory and practice, and a victim of contemporary jealous colleagues, but argued that such a talent for aggressive, destructive warfare was not a suitable model for the Bundeswehr, a primarily defensive army. Heiducoff criticised those Bundeswehr generals for pressuring the Federal Ministry of Defence into making decisions in favour of the man who they openly admire.

Rommel has had his supporters from this avalanche of revisionist criticism. Historian Michael Wolffsohn supported the Ministry of Defense's decision to continue recognition of Rommel, although he thought the focus should be put on the later stage of Rommel's life, when he began thinking more seriously about war and politics, and broke with the regime. Mitteldeutscher Rundfunk (MDR) reported that, "Wolffsohn declares the Bundeswehr wants to have politically thoughtful, responsible officers from the beginning, thus a tradition of 'swashbuckler' and 'humane rogue' is not intended".

According to authors like Ulrich vom Hagen and Sandra Mass though, the Bundeswehr (as well as NATO) deliberately endorses the ideas of chivalrous warfare and apolitical soldiering associated with Rommel. At a German Ministry conference soliciting input on the matter, Dutch general Ton van Loon advised the German Ministry that, although there can be historical abuses hidden under the guise of military tradition, tradition is still essential for the esprit de corps, and part of that tradition should be the leadership and achievements of Rommel. Historian Christian Hartmann opined that not only Rommel's legacy was worthy of tradition but the Bundeswehr "urgently needs to become more Rommel". 

There are other historians who have tried to take a middle path on the continued controversy of Rommel’s legacy. Historian Johannes Hürter believed that instead of being the symbol for an alternative Germany, Rommel should be the symbol for the willingness of the military elites to become instrumentalised by the Nazi authorities. As for whether he can be treated as a military role model, Hürter writes that each soldier can decide on that matter for themselves. Historian Ernst Piper argued that it was totally conceivable that the Resistance saw Rommel as someone with whom they could build a new Germany. According to Piper though, Rommel was a loyal national socialist without crime rather than a democrat, thus unsuitable to hold a central place among role models, although he should be integrated as a major military leader.

Whether one is for and against Rommel such debates take place because he is dead in conveniently ambiguous circumstances.

Recovering from skull fractures in hospital, he missed the main event - the 20 July Bomb Plot 1944 - insitigated by other senior German army officers. Hitler survived the blast, and immediately set about executing the plotters.

While Rommel had lots of contact with many key conspirators and was generally aware of the movement(s) to assassinate Hitler, there is no direct evidence that he knew about the July 20th plot in advance, let alone was involved in any detailed planning. Several conspirators allegedly confessed during interrogation that he was involved and, like Speer, his name was found on Goerdeler’s list of possible participants in a new German government.

Rommel was listed among various possibilities for Reich President. Unfortunately for him, there was no question mark or other notation, as in Speer’s case, which indicated that he was unaware of the designation.

He maintained his innocence when confronted by General Burgdorff on the day he died and also told his wife and son that he had played no part in the events of July 20th. But ultimately, there’s no way to know what he was or was not aware of. He took that with him to the grave.

The list of members of the 20 July plot doesn´t name Rommel as part of the attempt to kill Adolf Hitler. But: Rommel was blamed of having known of plans to do so. So he was forced to commit suicide.

On 19 th October 1944 Rommel met two german generals at his home. They showed him pretended evidence about his paticipation in “operation valkyrie”, which he denied to be true. They accompanied him away from his home, where he swallowed a capsule filled with potassium cyanide and died. The two generals Wilhelm Burgdorf and Ernst Maisel , members of german court of military honour, who had handed over the capsule to Rommel, drove back to his home and contended that Rommel had died because of ramifications of an injury he received on 17th of July during an allied bombardement.

Given a choice between a trial, involving his disgrace, execution and his family’s impoverishment - and suicide - he chose the latter.

The story given to the public was that he’d died of wounds sustained in the air attack. He was named a “german hero”, was “honoured” with a state funeral an d buried in Herrlingen, Germany.

Had he lived who knows what his real fate might have been at the hands of the Allies. At the main Nuremberg trials, the two army generals prosecuted were Field Marshal Wilhelm Keitel and General Alfred Jodl. Both were accused of conspiracy to commit crimes against peace; planning, initiating and waging wars of aggression; war crimes; and crimes against humanity. Both were convicted on all four charges and hanged.

The principal charge against Keitel was the infamous 13 May 1941 Barbarossa Decree, which condemned captured prisoners and ensured a high level of brutality by German soldiers against Soviet civilians. Jodl was the author of the Commando decree – ordering that any Allied commandos encountered in Europe and Africa should be killed immediately without trial, even if in proper uniforms or if they attempted to surrender. 

General Heinz Guderian is an example of a prominent German general who did survive the war but was not prosecuted for war crimes.

Another prominent example is Field Marshall Kesselring, who had commanded the defence of Italy after the Allies invaded. Kesselring was not prosecuted at Nuremburg, but did face a British military court in Italy. The Moscow declaration of October 1943 had stated that those accused of war crimes would be prosecuted in the country where they had committed their crimes. Although the trial was conducted in Italy, Italian judges did not participate as Italy was not considered an ally. Kesselring was prosecuted for the shooting of hundreds of Italian prisoners in retaliation for attacks on German soldiers. Kesselring was found guilty and condemned to death. British General Alexander, who had run the Italian campaign, and Winston Churchill pleaded for the sentence to be commuted - which it was. Kesselring was released in 1952 and lived until 1970.

By comparison Rommel was never accused of issuing similar decrees. Many felt that he was an honourable soldier. Nor was he ever accused of shooting prisoners in the way Kesselring was. Rommel’s military reputation is that of a highly professional soldier who carried out his duties according to a military code of ethics. His record is untainted by atrocities or unsavoury tactics against the enemy or civilian populations. He tended to live a charmed life early in the war.

Had he lived one can only speculate as to his fate and his legacy. Speculation regarding a possible role for him in the rebuilding of German forces for NATO, had he survived, is unrealistic. Rommel was never a strategically-minded commander. Indeed it is well known that Quartermasters hated him for his habit of outrunning his supplies on the battlefield.

The likelihood is he might well have been allowed to live without any kind of Allied retribution for war crimes as he was never guilty of any such departures from a strict military code of behaviour. But in trial - he would surely would have been put on trial even if he would be found not guilty - the messy details of his involvement with the Nazi regime would come to light. It would show that Rommel certainly benefited from the regime he served, and I think would have been considered guilty by association, even if his enthusiasm for Hitler waned in his final days.

Post-war, it would not have surprised me at all if the Allies had sought to build a West German government around Rommel. Staunchly anti-Communist, he nevertheless was seen widely as honourable and pro-West. But what role he would have been given - or what role the allies might have been able to make palatable to a war ravaged population - can only be speculated.

I suspect he would have served in some official capacity within the Bundeswehr before retiring to write his highly expected memoirs. It’s telling that Rommel’s chief of staff, Hans Speidel, drove the creation of the Bundeswehr and was the first to be named a generaloberst in that force. Later he was Supreme Commander of all NATO ground forces in Central Europe (which was almost all of it). It’s an intriguiing thought what Rommel might have played in a post-war Cold War Germany and Europe. Speidel and Rommel were inseparable and cut from the same bolt of cloth. Indeed it was Hans Speidel, who had been involved in the July 20 plot, wrote after the war that Rommel was a member of the resistance, (for which there is no evidence) that contributed towards Rommel and ‘The Good German’ Myth. 

Given all that was “overlooked” by both the Allies and the German people after World War Two. There’s no logical reason to think that Rommel would not have been as honoured, if not more so, after the war. After all, one of the main Bundeswehr barracks continues to be named after him in 1965.

To me he was a great general rightly lauded by his peers and military historians - but not the best. Rommel was a highly competent tactical commander, but there were many such commanders in the Wehrmacht. His prominence is due to a number of things. Firstly, he was always Hitler favourite; secondly Goebbels played him up in his propaganda; and thirdly he fought the British and Americans and thus received much more attention in the Western press and historians after the War than the German commanders fighting the Soviets.

Indeed an argument can be made that by fighting in the Western Desert in a sector that the British had logistical and material superiority (and thus difficult to defeat), Rommel essentially taught the British and the Americans Blitzkrieg tactics - essentially modern warfare. His very inflated legacy saved the British from admitting their military performance in North Africa was abysmal until the Axis forces overextended their supply lines and the American supply of goods was able to compensate for substandard British equipment. 

It’s also forgotten that Rommel also oversaw the building of Hitler’s Atlantic Wall which was essentially a fiction when he took over. Immense resources were poured into the project. The impact was to delay the Anglo-Americn invasion about 5 hours and only on one beach (Omaha).

And no matter how humane and honourable he was, Rommel was ultimately a weak man who chose to look away when it was convenient to his career to do so. Indeed I agree with many historians today that he was primarily bent on serving Hitler to advance his career. He was a man who believed he was serving a king and realises too late that he was a devil. I have little doubt that he was conflicted by that especially as it grew during the seven months of his life leading up to his death. Perhaps the best tactical military manoeuvre he made was to take the poison forced upon him and thereby save his family but also secure his legacy, even if that legacy remains mostly intact if a little more tarnished to this day.

[mrsdr-ethan-ramsey]

The Call (Ethan Ramsey x f!MC)

Oops...I sinned a bit. I’m not sure if it’s good though...this is my first time writing anything remotely smutty but I was reading Love Her or Lose Her by Tessa Bailey (10/10 would recommend) and got inspired by her extremely hot phone sex scene. So I gave it a shot...I hope it’s okay. There’s a lot of build up to just a lil smut...

Tag List: @the-soot-sprite @ethandaddyramsey @silverlitskies @trappedinfandoms @samihatuli @sherlockedmcu @marywitchjane @awalker965 @openheart12 @flyawayboo @hatescapsicum @edi654 @princess-geek @akacalliope @dr-nancy-house @hipstercoffeeshop @miyakokurono @riverrune 

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC (Parker Kennedy)

Summary: Upset by Ethan leaving without warning, Parker calls him and one thing leads to another...

Warnings: Swear words, smut, NSFW, 18+ please folks

Word Count: ~2100

As Parker threw back another shot of tequila, she could feel her lips start to tingle as her vision started to blur. A few more and I’ll forget everything, she thought as she triumphantly slammed the glass down before any of her other roommates could finish. Lately they couldn’t keep up with her drinking. If Parker didn’t have an early shift, she would be trashed by the end of the night and would have to dragged her home. There was only one reason for her new drinking habits; Ethan Ramsey had left.

One month. That’s how long it had been since he left for South America without so much as a ‘goodbye Rookie’. She had whiplash from watching him dart to the hospital entrance, suitcase rolling behind him. She had shouted after him, chased him even. He wouldn’t turn around. It was the hardest thing she had ever witnessed. Ethan getting into a rideshare, refusing to look at her. She knew he heard her call his name over and over. She knew he heard her chase after him. All he had to do was look to the side to see her small frame shaking with tears, confused and upset. But he didn’t.

Parker had waited and waited for a call or a text. Anything to know where he was going, how long, and why. After a week, she went to Naveen. He was just as surprised as she was that Ethan hadn’t mentioned anything to her. She had to find out through Naveen that he was in the Amazon helping to fight a disease and treat people who didn’t have access to modern medicine. It took everything in Parker to not cry in front of the new Chief of Medicine. She was hurt that Ethan didn’t tell her that he’d be gone for two months. Two whole months and he didn’t feel the need to tell her. He ditched her without a goodbye. That stung.

To forgot about this, Parker kept busy by picking up extra shifts at work and in her free time numbed her brain with alcohol. When this started, her roommates had only assumed she was stressed. As it started happening more and more frequently, they became extremely concerned about her drinking habits.  

“Alright, you’re done Kennedy,” Bryce said as he switched her shot glass for one filled with water.

“I’m not even that drunk!” Parker protested, her words only slurring a bit. She was right, but her friends wanted to save her liver before she destroyed it.

Sienna gave her a concerning look. “We know, but you’ve been drinking a lot lately. We’re worried this habit will stick if we don’t intervene.”

Parker glumly took a drink of water and mumbled, “This habit will only be around for another month.”

At this, Elijah shot Sienna a look. The two were the only ones that 100% knew Parker had sex with Ethan. Jackie assumed that she had, and Bryce only knew Parker had a crush. Even if they didn’t all know about her relationship with the older doctor, they all pinned her excessive drinking to the absence of Ethan Ramsey.  

“Alright, I’m calling it a night. Let’s head home,” Jackie stated, throwing back the last two shots before Parker could offer to take one.

With some coaxing, and tugging, the group of roommates said goodbye to Bryce and headed for the train to take them home. Parker leaned on Sienna for the entire ride, the last shot finally hitting her. With the help of Jackie and Sienna, Parker got ready for bed and they laid her down on her mattress. With a few goodnights from all the roomies, they shut the door leaving Parker alone with her thoughts. Without enough alcohol in her system, Parker’s mind started thinking about Ethan.  

What was he doing right now? Was he thinking about her? Did he ever think about her? Was he okay? Did her contract the disease? Did he miss her like she missed him?  

She reached for her phone, scrolling through her text messages until she saw his name. There were only two texts sent. One from her and one from him.

I hate texting.

If that was true, then the only thing she could do was call him. She tapped on his contact icon, just the letters ER. She was afraid to take of photo of him for her contacts, and the moody photo available through the hospital seemed too impersonal. Her finger hovered over his number, a debate going through her head on whether or not she could call.

He obviously would have called you if he wanted to talk to you. Well maybe he doesn’t have service down there. Then what’s the point of me even calling him? Well if he doesn’t have reception then I’ll know, and the call won’t go through. At least then I’ll know why he didn’t call me. If he picks up...well, I’ll cross that bridge if I get there.

She hit the number, putting her phone up to her ear as she waited quietly to see if she would get something. It rang, proving that he in fact did have his phone on and reception.

Ethan Ramsey was bewildered to say the least when he saw the name Parker Kennedy flash on his phone. He cursed himself, her, and whatever force that made her name flash on the device. One month. He had only been away for one month. He had been strong and not called, written, or made any contact with the woman who held his thoughts every waking moment. He was doing so well until she reached out to him.

Ethan debated on whether or not to answer. He was ready to decline the call, until he thought that it could be an emergency. Parker could actually need his help. Well, that’s how he justified taking the call.

“Rookie? What’s wrong?” he answered gruffly, making his way into his personal space so nobody could hear his conversation. He swore he could hear Parker inhale sharply at the sound of his voice, but he couldn’t be sure.

“H-Hi Ethan,” she whispered.

He waited for her to say more, to give a reason why she was calling. Instead she remained silenced except for her soft breathing. Even thousands of miles away, Parker had utter control over him. He closed his eyes, trying to regain power of his body. He thought it was pathetic that his cock was reacting to just her saying his name and breathing.

“Parker you called me. I’m going to need an explanation.”

“O-Oh, right!” Parker rasped out, repositioning herself on the bed. ���I just wanted to check in with you…since, well you left without so much as a goodbye.”

Ethan let out a loud sigh, pacing in his space. His left hand held the phone to his ear while the right tugged at his hair.

“I had to Rookie,” he said lowly.

“You could have said goodbye, or at least told me you were leaving.”

He sighed again. He seemed to being doing that a lot in this conversation. “I had to put distance between us.”

“Over 3,000 miles?”

“Any closer and I don’t know if I could have stayed away.”

His voice was deep, and sounded like pure sex to Parker. She could barely register his words, his voice sending jolts straight between her legs. Parker hadn’t heard that voice in over a month. She squeezed her thighs together, rubbing them slightly and breathed out, “W-What do you mean?”

“You do things to me Parker. You mess with my head. I can’t think straight when I’m around you. If I want to have control when I’m your boss…” Ethan took a deep breath. “I needed to get away from you.”

She should be heartbroken at his words, but just hearing his voices was working her up more and more. She barely registered her hands moving down the front of her leggings and into her panties as he spoke. That was why she didn’t even think about controlling her breathing as it picked up with her movements.

“What are you doing Parker?” he asked. She could practically see the furrow in his brow as he tried to figure out exactly where she was and doing at the moment.

“I’m just at my apartment,” she whispered, her fingers never stopping.

“Your bedroom?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“Parker,” his voice dropped impossibly lower as he growled out, “Are you touching yourself?”

“N-No! Of course not!”

Parker knew he would be able to hear right through her breathy response. As if he could read her mind, he replied, “You think I don’t know how you sound as you get worked up? As your pussy gets wet?”

Parker was just about to deny is words, but as her fingers brushed her clit she let out a soft moan. A quiet fuck came through the phone before she heard movement.

“E-Ethan, what are you doing?” she asked, her movements never slowly down in her panties.

“Do you really think I could listen to you getting off without getting hard myself? Christ Rookie, my cock was hard the second you said my name.”

That sent a delicious shiver down Parker’s spine, making her hips arch towards her fingers exploring the familiar area. Her fingers pressed harder, eyes shutting as she imagined that they weren’t her fingers but Ethan’s. She pulled every image she could of the two times they had been intimate, playing them on the back of her eyelids. She was not ashamed that it wasn’t the first time she was getting off remembering being with Ethan, but this time was different. In her right ear she could hear is gruff voice, the small grunts that left his lips and he stroked himself with her.

“Fuck…Ethan,” she mewled in his ear. He could hardly take it. He hadn’t been with anybody since his last night with Parker. He couldn’t even think about being intimate with anyone except the young doctor. She consumed his every thought and dream.

“Think of me,” his voice rumbled in her ear. “Think of me between your legs, my tongue on your cunt, my cock filling you up, my lips sucking on your breasts.”

“Yes!” Parker cried, the familiar knot tightening in the pit of her stomach. She was so close

“Darling do you know what I’d do to you if I were there?” Ethan groaned into the phone. “I’d worship your pussy, those gorgeous thighs…every inch of your body should be touched…kissed…because you look like a goddess when you come undone.”

“Please, Ethan,” Parker begged, not knowing what she was asking him to do. Make her finish? Fly back and make her come in person? She wasn’t sure. Her brain was mush as her moves became frantic, only thinking about Ethan.

“I know sweetheart,” he said. She could hear his hand picking up speed in the background, the small moans leaving his lips told her he would be close soon.

Trembling and completely at Ethan’s mercy, Parker couldn’t stop the moans living her lips. Though thousands of miles of way, the two touched themselves in tandem. It was intimate, the only sounds being exchanged were those of pleasure.

“E-Ethan, I’m so close,” she gasped, sinking two fingers inside herself as she tried to find the G spot that Ethan always could.

“Let go Parker. Come for me,” Ethan growled, rubbing his aching member as he imagined Parker’s body withering on her bed. He could practically see her body bowing off of it from the pleasure.

With a frantic rub against her sensitive clit, Parker sobbed Ethan’s name over and over again with her orgasm. Ethan’s actions never slowed, rubbing desperately as him found his own high.

As Parker came down from her climax, she could hear Ethan’s breathing begin to level. Overwhelmed, she couldn’t help but whimper out, “I miss you Ethan.”

“I know darling…” he said softly, his own voice shaking.

“Don’t leave me yet…”

“I won’t.”

He stayed on the phone with Parker until she fell asleep, whispering a silent ‘sweet dreams’ once her breathing leveled. As he hung up the phone, he let out the breath he had been holding. He was so fucked.

The next morning, Parker woke up from the best sleep she had had since, well, since she slept cuddled up to Ethan. Her phone was almost dead next to her. The first thing she saw was that Ethan had stayed on the phone with for hours before he hung up. Parker’s heart rate picked up as a small smile came across her face. She knew she’d be able to wait another month before she saw him again. And by then, Parker was determined to convince him to give their feelings a chance.

[erictmason]

The Road To “Godzilla VS. Kong”, Day One

KING KONG VS. GODZILLA (AMERICAN VERSION)

Originally Released: June 26th, 1963

Director: Ishiro Honda

Writers: Shinichi Sekizawa, Paul Mason and Bruce Howard

Starring: Tadao Takashima, Kenji Sahara, Ichiro Arashima, Mie Hama, Michael Keith, Harry Halcomb

“King Kong VS. Godzilla” is a movie whose reputation often precedes it amongst certain circles of Genre Film fans.  Even if one is unaware of the convoluted, more than slightly seedy story behind its creation (short version: the original “King Kong”’s special-effects artist, Willis O’Brien, was interested in creating a sequel that would have pitted Kong against a giant animalistic version of the Frakenstein Monster, but shady producer John Beck wound up stealing the idea and, when American studios balked at the project for fear that the use of stop-motion animation to realize the effects work would be too expensive, wound up shopping it to the more cost-effective Toho Studios in Japan, who reconceived it as a new “Godzilla” project in hopes of revitalizing interest in the character), it is still one of the most singularly important Giant Monster Movies ever made.  For one thing, it basically defined The Kaiju Movie as we know it today; sure, the original “Gojira” from 1954 (and by extension its Americanized adaptation, “Godzilla: King of the Monsters” in 1956) may have effectively created the genre, but you’ll notice the majority of such movies that exist today are more about Fanciful Title Bouts between two Clashing Monsters rather than somber moody Allegories about the horrors of Nuclear Weapons.  For another, it’s the movie that really put Godzilla himself on the map as a Big Star in his own right; at the time, he only had two prior films to his name, and while one of them was the aforementioned genre-creating watershed “Gojira”, the other was “Godzilla’s Counterattack” from 1956, which proved such a box-office disappointment that it put the character into retirement for the better part of a decade (and to give you a sense of just how much less weight the name “Godzilla” carried back then, when that movie was released in America in 1959, it was initially re-titled “Gigantis The Fire Monster”).  With “King Kong VS. Godzilla”, however, he would begin to star in more and more movies, building a film franchise that continues to this day.  

So it’s a bit of a shame that I’ve never liked it all that much.

To be clear, the “it” in question here is specifically the American version of the movie, which is the one most Western audiences would be familiar with since, until recently, it was the only one readily available to us (though Criterion finally corrected that back in 2019, when they included the original Japanese version of the movie as a bonus feature in their “Showa Era” collector’s set).  Certainly, it’s the one that I grew up watching as a kid, when my mom, ever so protective and knowing how easily upset I could be when Fictional Characters I Loved got hurt, made sure to watch ahead to see who exactly won the title match-up (and since it was Kong, I wouldn’t actually get around to finishing my viewing of the movie for a good long while).  Back then, of course, I viewed it very much through that childish prism of who I thought should win, and it was exactly the kind of Schoolyard Logic you’d expect: Kong was supposed to be a great deal smaller than Godzilla, and where Godzilla had his iconic fire breath, Kong had no extraordinary powers; Kid Me understandably concluded that this match-up really ought to be a shoe-in for Godzilla, which worked out well since Godzilla just so happened to be the one Kid Me actually cared about.  Kid Me was thus quite irritated to discover that, for the sake of this movie, Kong had in fact been significantly sized up and given random electricity-absorbing powers.  It felt like cheating to Kid Me, and it left me less than positively disposed towards the film proper.

These days, of course, I’m able to give the film a somewhat fairer shake, though I would be lying if I said that My Inner Childish Fan-Boy is completely quiet on the matter (in particular, it always bothers me that, to emphasize the advantage Kong’s electrical powers give him in their fight, the movie explicitly cites Godzilla’s “vulnerability” to electricity, despite one of the most singularly iconic images of the original “Gojira” being his ability to walk straight through a power-line barricade).  Indeed, my most recent re-watch for this very review honestly left me feeling fonder toward it than I was even on my last most recent re-watch (back in 2014, in preparation for the then-upcoming Gareth Edwards “Godzillla”, which we’ll also be getting to in this re-watch soon).  The portrayal of the title monsters themselves in particular left me much happier this time around than it has in the past; the design for Godzilla himself- thick around the center with big heavy-browed eyes and what appears to be a constantly self-amused grin, huge sharp claws that dominate the fingers and a tail that moves with a real sense of weight and purpose-took me a long time to warm up to, for example, but these days I would happily cite it as one of the very best of the original series.  Kong gets it a bit worse, sadly; the suit they design for him here (a fact that original “Kong” director Merian C. Cooper openly despised, incidentally; the idea of portraying Kong as just some guy in a gorilla costume was one of the things he explicitly set out to avoid in the original movie) has a distinctive enough face if not an especially memorable one, but the costume always looks and feels a bit raggedy, with the sagging pecs and ill-fitted arms (throughout the movie the suit switches between “regular” arms designed to allow the actor mobility, and extended arms to help give it a more ape-like gait; the result is that both versions feel weirdly out of place on the costume a lot of the time) looking especially awkward.  However, even beyond how they look, the way the monsters act is genuinely enjoyable, with Haruo Nakajima as Godzilla and Shoichi Hirose as Kong both putting in fantastic performances that imbue them with a great sense of personality that is just consistently delightful all movie long.  Whether it’s Godzilla hopping around, arms flailing in triumph whenever he manages to pull off another victory, or Kong drunkenly swallowing up giant pots’ worth of a narcotic usd to keep him docile, the movie very visibly delights in imbuing these creatures with fun foibles, and It’s no coincidence that the it’s at its strongest, not so much when the monsters are fighting, but when they are simply interacting as actual Characters: Godzilla here feels often like a particularly arrogant, boundlessly-energized child, while Kong is a bit more confused and subdued but quick to anger when irritated; their first meeting, when both these strong visible personalities most openly bounce off each other, is unquestionably my favorite moment of the movie.

The rest of it isn’t exactly bad, per se, but it is a lot less entertaining.  Some of that is simply what the American version inherited from the Japanese original, not least of all the noxiously racist portrayal of the Natives living on a remote pacific island with Kong (here named “Faro Island” for some reason instead of the usual “Skull Island”).  On top of the sins it recreates from the original “King Kong” (a fairly ooga-booga understanding of What Islanders Are Like, all of whom are portrayed by non-Native actors slathered in brownface make-up), it also includes a decently insulting bit wherein the initially-hostile islanders are pacified by the introduction of “magic” in the form of a hand-held radio and cartons of cigarettes.  There’s also the fact that the plot is driven almost entirely by Random Contrivance rather than anything that flows naturally from either the characters or the premise; Godzilla and Kong have no real compelling reason to meet, let alone fight, other than the pure coincidence of their both happening to be active at around the same time in the same part of the world (the American version attempts to ameliorate this somewhat by stating that the two are “instinctive rivals” who will be “naturally driven to destroy one another”, but that flimsy lip-service to Motivation just winds up making the otherwise-arbitrary plotting feel all the worse), and we are constantly bombarded by Total Coincidences as a way of shuffling the characters around from place to place with dizzying frequency.  But some of those troubles are only exacerbated by the approach the American version has taken to the material.  We’ll talk about this more tomorrow, but the Japanese “King Kong VS. Godzilla” is, at heart, a Satirical Comedy; this, unsurprisingly, was not an idea that went over well with Universal Studios in America, who chose to try and reshape that comedy into a more traditional Monster Movie.  An understandable objective, but not one the Japanese cut of the film made easy to achieve; to avoid the most overt Comic bits meant cutting almost all of the human characters in the film (most notably the eccentric executive Mr. Tako, played by Ichiro Arishima) down to only their most essential appearances, which in turn means that they all wind up feeling vaguely undefined and out of place in their own story (this feels especially true of our ostensible main character, Tadao Takashima‘s Sakurai, who is present enough to FEEL like a main character but has little left to do in this cut of the film). To make up the weight of all that cut footage, meanwhile, we get gobs of new footage consisting mostly of Michael Keith as a United Nations reporter talking at us in the most stultifying way possible, often joined by Harry Holcombe as an equally stultifying scientist (who apparently gets his knowledge of dinosaurs primarily from children’s picture books, which in fairness would explain a lot of the nonsense he ends up saying), though he also frequently talks with a fellow reporter played by James Yagi.  These scenes are not, perhaps, without their charms, but they also deaden the movie’s pacing, especially since nine times out of ten they exist mostly to reiterate stuff we already know because it literally just happened.  Given how much a faster pace seems to be one of the American cut’s top priorities (a sub-plot from the Japanese version about a submarine inadvertently encountering Godzilla is reduced to a single sequence for this version), that choice proves a counterintuitive one.

Because the other major problem with the American approach to this movie is that, to be frank, the Monster Action is nowhere near Epic enough to bear the weight this new cut puts on it.  Again, it’s not without its merits; Godzilla and Kong’s outsized personalities do a lot to lend even the less effective sequences a certain fun spirit, and there is still an unmistakably strong sense of craftsmanship to the miniatures used throughout the movie to create the appropriate sense of scale for our Monsters to play around in (the demolition of a recreation of Atami Castle shines a spotlight on that very fact).  But in terms of both their scope and their choreography, there’s just not enough There there; far too often, “King Kong VS. Godzilla”’s Big Marquee Action Scenes amount to the monsters just sort of lazily throwing rocks at each other, or else engaging in less-interesting recreations of their previous Iconic Moments (Kong especially goes through a truncated version of his original appearance’s third act, though here he ends up on top of the National Diet Building rather than the Empire State Building).  That’s slightly less of a problem in the Japanese version; again, there, the main thrust of the film lies in its comedy, and thus the Monster Action being relatively lightweight is less of a hinderance and more a spicy Flavoring to the main story.  But here, it is the main story, and while it’s pretty clear some real love went into the Effects Work (the puppetry especially is very solid; there are a few instances where the switch from Suit Actor to Puppet for Godzilla is borderline seamless, and I also enjoy the decently-animated feel of Kong’s facial puppet as well) it ultimately doesn’t have nearly enough substance to fill that role. This comes through especially clearly in the Final Showdown between the monsters; again, there is some deservedly iconic stuff here (Kong trying to shove a tree down Godzilla’s throat only to have it rebuffed in a puff of flames has become an impressively-enduring Meme for a reason) but, much like most of the story, winds up being driven far more by Contrivance than anything clever or satisfying (a bit where Kong knocks himself over feels especially annoying for how unmotivated it seems to be). It was always going to be a tall order to make a match-up with as much implicit weight to it (both metaphorical and literal) live up to the heightened expectations placed on it, maybe.  But even taking that into account, it’s hard not to feel like “King Kong VS. Godzilla” could have put a little more effort into things.

Still, I was saying, at the start, that I walked away from “King Kong VS. Godzilla” happier this time than in many of my past viewings.  And that is ultimately true: for as much as I find myself often wishing it could be a different movie, the movie it actually is already does manage to work decently well on its own terms.  The dub-work here in particular honestly deserves notice; in contrast to the standardized casts Toho would start using for most of its “Godzilla” movies moving forward, here we get a more distinctive sounding voice-cast who manage to put some real Life into their performances (the voice they give to Kenji Sahara’s Fujita stands out especially to me, nasally and over-earnest but capable of some real Fire when the moment calls for it, as befits the character).  And, again, whatever my beef with the Action Scenes, the actual portrayal of the Monsters really is uniquely fun (indeed, given how many other elements Toho would consistently crib from it, I’m often surprised that Godzilla’s distinctive body language throughout isn’t one of them), which winds up giving the movie enough Real Heart in the end to make it a positive Experience overall, even against the stuff that even now stands out to me as Not Up To Snuff.  At the very least, it’s a lot easier for me to recognize how and why this movie created the Legacy it did, even if the American Version makes a bit more of a mess out of it.  

[brokenxfragments]

Dystrial, the Deceiver

Icon Use: FFXIV model

Theme Song(s)

Everything Moves - Bronze Radio Return

The Wolf - SIAMÉS

Basic Information

Age: 3000+ (immortal)

Gender: Male

Height: 6′5

Weight: 230 Ibs

Species: Mirato (shapeshifter)

Orientation/Sexuality: Homoromantic/Homosexual

Relationship: Single (ship verse dependent)

Occupation: Infiltrator, Assassin

Brief Personality: Devious— Intelligent — Secretive

Brief Bio: Playful yet formal, this creature can be very misleading depending on his intentions; as a trained assassin & infiltrator, Dystrial makes himself to be whatever he needs to be, though at current he has no real evil intentions. Having served a mad god for several hundreds, if not thousands, of years, he only seeks a little company & perhaps a duel here & there. Yet his mission is to find an old friend of his, as well as old enemies.

Full Biography

     Born of a species of shapeshifters, the mirato, this particular race would feed off of another’s adrenalin - for those that were passive, they’d oftentimes find a group to integrate with, taking whatever form necessary to be accepted & feed in a non-aggressive manner. Usually, the group sought for are known for taking risks or participate in extreme acts that would have them be full of adrenalin (aka, adrenalin junkies). There are also those that would impersonate a loved one when that one leaves, feeding from the adrenalin of the impersonated’s own mate via love-making before they’d slip away afterwards, usually none the wiser. However, for those like Dystrial, they were active in seeking their source in a far more aggressive way, to which were how this race would be feared. In doing so, at least in this mirato’s way, he actively fights someone, usually to the death, wearing his prey down the longer he feeds & never losing energy until his prey finally drops from exhaustion.

     However, this particular mirato would catch the attention of a being he had mistakenly picked as his prey; upon engaging, Dystrial would very quickly realize that this being was no prey after only a few quick though fierce blows, pinned to the ground by a foot that radiated heat. He thought that he was going to die for his mistake & had accepted it - then the stranger spoke, speaking of his kind in such an knowing manner that he knew far more than any outsider should know. He’d realize why as the man introduced himself as the aspect of extinction itself, Aridem. And he would give the mirato a choice; to die right there, naught but ashes as he’d burned from the inside out... or he would serve the mad god in his mission. And in wanting to preserve his life, Dystrial chose the option to allow him that, being spared of a rather grotesque manner of death. Yet he’d learn quite quickly the kind of mission that Aridem was carrying out - to wipe out the entirety of the universe. None would be spared... but it would not be painful. Since it were a god carrying this out, the mirato figured that there was little choice in the matter. And not to mention that a painless death was better than one done otherwise.

     Dystrial would undergo the ritual of Aridem’s own fashion that would make him immortal, having his heart removed from his body & kept safe, so that if he died he’d simply resurrect whole, brought back to the lair that the mad god had set up for their base of operations. If there was anything that Dystrial thought was good from this exchange, it was this assurance that he wouldn’t die. And he would serve Aridem well, swiftly gaining his lord’s confidence as he would be tasked to infiltrate the targets that the god wanted him to go, seek out & assassinate the leaders or important figures. But most importantly, he was to seek out remnants of the Elder Gods’ essence that had been left behind on worlds in their ever going war before they were sealed away. These essences were solidified, giving an appearance of crystal but had immense power even in these scattered forms. Oftentimes the inhabitants of worlds would take these pieces & use them, sometimes as mere decorations in their ignorance, in other times as actual power when they’ve discovered how to access it. Aridem wanted these essences to gain power, absorbing these sources when he’d find them.

     Once these essences were found & drained, this would be the signal that the world had fulfilled its use. If the world was close to the edge of the Void, the world was simply swallowed within its maw - if the Void was not in proximity, Aridem would raze the world in a wave of flames that would use the world’s own atmosphere to do it all nearly in a flash. In this way, he would know which world had already been scoured for the precious essence. And Dystrial, while he were an aggressive sort of mirato, couldn’t help but feel helpless in that he brought these world-ending apocalypses, even though realistically he knew that even without him, this group of mad men would do it anyway.

     Years would go on, the mirato never really knowing how long he served this god, though yet within this group of Harbingers, he would sort of befriend the other non-god within the circle, the ivaci dracon called Zikom. While they were usually more likely to butt heads & the mirato would be cruel in his moody days since he were considered ‘higher’ in ranks than Zikom, the creature still would look out for him, keeping him out of trouble when they went on missions together. The two were often in conflict with another deity that would arrive on the targeted world as them, the one named Rosalia. With long studies of his opponent as well as what he’d pick up between her & the mad god along with his son, he understood the deity with quite some clarity; this was the mate of his very own god, from a time period where the mad god was not mad. Dystrial had some amount of sympathy towards her, though he wouldn’t show it so long as he were in service to Aridem. 

     But he eventually would decide that he wanted to be freed of this service that he were pressed into, even if it were to be through death. And in that same token, he wanted to free Zikom as well, the would-be proud creature that shouldn’t be bound by invisible chains of false loyalty. In secret, without even telling Zikom of what he intended, he’d devise his plans, which would take time as he would revise ideas & gathered new information during his service. Eventually, he’d settle to the idea of swapping their hearts for replicas - hearts that came from their own species. A mirato’s wasn’t hard to gain, given that he only needed to find one that was caught by aggressors that found out its identity - swapping it for his own was the trickiest part. Part of the reason it took so long was so that he could learn discreetly of the means of magic that Aridem used to preserve their hearts. After much tampering, he would be successful, taking his own to a different universe altogether when he would follow Rosalia out through the Rift.

     Zikom’s would be the hardest one, given the fact that the dracon’s heart was one transformed from beast to something more humanoid when the ritual was done on him. Forcing a similar spell was quite difficult when magic wasn’t in his reach. Yet it didn’t matter, not when the long-drawn war would finally escalate. Aridem’s plans had been successful & was drawing to its completion - it was time to bring the realms of gods into the Void along with the rest of the universe, having accumulated enough power from the Elder Gods’ essence. Dystrial could have simply given up on Zikom & made his bid for freedom, but he felt a sense of obligation to the dracon. He’d wait, plan, watch even as he fought in the now bloody war as both forces of Seraphine & Infernam rose to meet their foes, most of which was Malshano’s contribution of creatures, ‘recycled’ beings that had been from the dead worlds that he simply called consumers - creatures of the Void.

     In the final battle, Dystrial was given a special task by Malshano, which due to his sympathy towards Rosalia would make him feel a little sick even after all he had done - to seek out the deity’s remaining children that had been brought to the very last sanctuary, & to tell Malshano where they were at once located. Long before this point, he knew that the mad god’s son was even madder than his father, obsessed with ‘punishing’ his own mother in any way he could, though he was oftentimes unable to do it personally because of his service to Aridem by making the consumers. But now he could. And Dystrial was able to find his targets... but he had a small breath of relief, having come upon them as they first talked the adopted mortal child, Hikaru, to be sent through the Rift to a safe world, far outside Eldria, to then have one of the twins to follow after an intensive argument. Because of one twin’s ability to make duplicates, the female Silvia was staying behind to fool anyone that might seek them out, even though the male Tobias was reluctant to follow this plan. The sister would force her brother through the portal & have it close behind her, with only duplicates of her siblings to follow her.

     While he wouldn’t necessarily want any of them to die, at least the deity Rosalia wouldn’t lose all her children. With this in mind, he’d report back to Malshano & would lie, saying that all three were present at a temple on the outskirts of the battle. And when Malshano went to find his targets, Dystrial used this chance to shadow-travel to their lair, snagging Zikom’s heart without bothering to leave a replica behind, taking it & himself out of the lair that was already breaking apart as the Void was in the process of consuming everything, including the mad god’s only protective location - Aridem didn’t need it anymore. It was a mad decision, keeping it with him, but he returned to the final battle, intending to find access to the Rift, but his return was timely indeed, for the First Daughter of Seraphine would send survivors into the Rift just as she was falling to the Void’s maw, the island she resided on for countless millennia having been in the process of being devoured. Dystrial arrived onto a world that wasn’t the same as the one he’s been to before, though because of the last minute attempt to rescue as many survivors as Salri could, he knew for certain that he was likely to meet with the other survivors, sent to the last world that the Rift had been connected to - which would make it the same world that likely Rosalia’s surviving children would be found. Because the heart of the dracon remained alive, he also know that Zikom was alive.

     But now that freedom was finally at his fingertips, Dystrial wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. All the same... he would make himself a new life.

[fuzziemutt]

Crying in My Prom Dress

Summary: Prom was always hyped to be this magical time. The biggest dance of your high school life. So why was Virgil sitting outside the dance crying during such a supposedly amazing night ? Simple. HE wanted to tear HIS prom dress to shreds.

Tw: Just some Virgil angst ! Some mention of possibly transphobic parents and others. Virg is ftm btw if it wasn’t clear; Deceit is in this and he is a nice guy and not a transphobic asshole at all and helps V out

Notes: I’ve been seeing a lot of Dee being a transphobic asshat in fics especially towards V and it’s been rubbing me the wrong way so here have Dee being decent because heck you. I wrote this based on the song “Prom Dress” by mxmtoon. Also I wrote this at 2 am with barely any editing so...

He couldn’t believe this. He thought he could handle it. Just one night in a dress. It was no big deal ! Yet, here he was trying not to cry so loudly and tucked in a secluded corner outside of the school’s gym. His makeup was already staining his cheeks and basically smeared beyond recognition in some places. He knew that wearing a dress would kick in his dysphoria but he didn’t think he would be checking “Crying on Prom night” off his nonexistent bucket list. 

He tried to not smear his makeup further, but he needed to do something with his shaky hands and it’s not like he cared much for it in the first place. He really hoped no one would leave the dance anytime soon as he could not handle a panic attack right now, that was for sure.

He honestly didn’t know what he was thinking. Everyone knew him as the angsty emo kid with the oversized jackets who might knock you out and he passed pretty well even surprisingly. Yet the second his mom started going on about how her little girl was going to look so nice in this dress at prom and “purple is your favorite color right ? I saw this lovely purple gown-” and onwards made him cave. Now here he was in a strapless, long, purple gown that really emphasized his curves and made him want to practically scream. 

He barely lasted even a couple minutes in the dance with so many stares on him. He had hoped that the “over the top” makeup and the dress that was so different from his “silent, moody guy” vibe would keep people from recognizing him but given all the silent stares he could feel burning into his soul… He even purposely didn’t get a prom date if he could even get one just to avoid his date’s questions on the matter and revealing his “secret” of sorts.

The sound of a nearby door opening pulled him from his thoughts and he began to scramble to his feet to try and vacate the area before that panic attack actually occurred. He cursed how loud his heels clicked as he tried to speed walk away from the sound of footsteps. 

“Virgil, wait,” was called out behind him. He knew that voice. Before he knew it, he was peaking over his hunched shoulders with a slow turn around as a familiar, scarred face came into view. 

He didn’t know if he wanted to run or try and scare the other off, so he could finally just get this horrid night over with. He already started to try squaring his shoulders and loom over the slightly shorter guy in front of him just as he noticed the large bag in gloved hands.

“I noticed how so not uncomfortable you were in there and didn’t think you might need.. a helping hand of sorts,” Deceit, Virg’s nickname he gave to the infamous school liar, stated with sarcasm practically dripping from his lips. He finished off with lifting the bag higher and showing what looked like a suit with a protector bag over it. 

While he thought that was quite sweet, Virgil’s eyes immediately narrowed in suspicion, “Why would you, of all people, want to help me,” was practically spat as he tried to make himself as intimidating as possible.

Deceit merely raised an eyebrow over his blue eye and shrugged. 

“It’s totally not because I thought I should help a fellow brother out at all or anything,” it was almost murmured and so very un-Deceit like.

It took Virg a second to realize what he meant and he felt his shoulders almost immediately beginning to lower. “Are you…” he didn’t even need to finish his sentence as the soft almost smile he got said all. 

“I guess I’ll accept your help… this one time,” of course, he had a reputation to keep up so he immediately put his brash walls and scowl back up. But he didn’t hesitate to slowly trail behind the other as Deceit led them to what he was assuming was the nearest bathroom. 

He couldn’t believe how absolutely relieving it was to see himself in the mirror flat chested and in the right clothes again. He had to hand it to Deceit for somehow having a binder and suit in his size though they were quite similar in size now that he thought about it like this. Deceit had even helped him clear off his makeup and get his iconic emo eyeshadow back. He also whipped out a pair of shoes he could wear from somewhere at some point.

“Why did you even have all of this on you ? Where did you even get all of this ?” he couldn’t help but ask as they started to head towards the gym again.

The ominous smirk and “a magician never reveals his secrets,” really did not help matters he would argue but at this point, he wasn’t really going to push it. 

People still stared. In fact, more people seemed to be staring at him this time. The only difference was Deceit now stood by his side and even seemed to challenge all their peers with his own deadly sharp grin and looking as if ready to fight someone. 

Virgil would never admit it but he actually genuinely was having fun joking with Dee by his side. At some point, they even started to do some dancing a bit. It was awkward and clumsy but it was actually… quite enjoyable ? They danced and badly sang to some of the songs the DJ played and ranted about how wild cishet people were and relaxed their shoulders as they claimed one of the corners as their own. He even felt a need to thank Dee for everything but that was too soft for both of them he decided.

When they finally started to shuffle out of the place late into the night with a full attire slung over his shoulder, he realized he never had such an amazing night before and thought:

Maybe Prom wasn’t that bad after all.

[quidfree]

Hi! Hope you're doing ok:)) I don't even know what if I have a specific ask but I just love reading your hp meta haha. So I was wondering if you had any thoughts on the friendship (well, I guess budding relationship in LMV anyway) between sirius and Lily? Maybe how they became friends or how close they are? Again you're a GENIUS when it comes to hp meta. don't stress about answering if you're busy!

hi !! no worries at all, i love character meta.

sirius and lily is such a fun one!!! i think the beginnings of their friendship must have been really interesting. in their earlier years there was presumably less tension than what we see later- james and sirius hadnt started ragging on snape quite so much etc- but i think sirius was too engrossed by james to really talk to her much before that. i always imagine lily to have been friends w remus pretty much all the way through hogwarts (tho it got terse during times) and friendly with james during earlier years before things got messy. in my mind sirius and lily probably sort of reluctantly liked each other even during times where they really didnt intend to- so even when james & sirius were reaching peak prattery and butting heads with snape all the time, and when james started obsessing over lily, they still found each other witty and interesting. from lily’s side this was unfortunate because potter and black were fucking assholes and it was already irksome to sometimes get caught up in potter and his group’s antics, but starting to appreciate black’s snarky repartee really was going too far (half of the time it was directed at severus, for god’s sake); from sirius’ it was because this was the girl james had decided he was in love with or what-fucking-ever, she was hardly anything special, so he absolutely didn’t find her charming and quick-witted too. they probably had some iconic back and forth arguments, especially over james’ head once the latter started trying to woo her. and then james decided it was time to grow up some, and while he was keeping a polite distance to remedy his pushiness sirius and lily started accidentally talking sometimes, so by the time she and james were friends the two of them were pretty comfortable with each other.

finding a dynamic would have been weird. i think once it started becoming obvious that james and lily were actually going to be a Thing at some point, sirius took it very badly, for predictable reasons- not so much to james’ face, and he wasn’t awful about it to lily, but he got moody and spent a lot of time brooding and being very sarcastic and rude whenever they were in groups. the fact he very much liked lily after all only made him feel worse. lily on the other hand was too unsure about where she and james stood and where they were going to be able to reassure him much, but she knew what was going on and she felt very bad for upsetting the duo. she figured jamesandsirius out very fast though, so i think at some point she sat herself down and asked herself if she could spend her life happy with the both of them, and only once she’d done that did she go have a frank conversation with sirius and then finally accept james’ offer to go on a proper date. and once she’d had the balls to do that sirius stopped brooding and immediately switched into lily evans fanclub mode, which he has never stopped doing since.

god, what can i say about these two to capture their relationship??? lily and sirius are tremendously fond of each other and extremely close; they live in each other’s pockets almost as much as jamesandsirius. in a way they’re more on similar levels with one another than with james; they read into things in the same way, and they’re both quite prone to theorizing. james /knows/ sirius, wholly, but lily (like remus, in a sense) /sees/ him, and vice versa- it’s an oddly vulnerable relationship. they have a lot of insecurities/worries in common, like lost siblings and not so hypothetical moral conundrums. they share clothes, records, taste in alcohol, and taste in men; they both love creating charms for the fun of it. they also share a number of petty pet peeves, which only james notices and finds hilariously endearing. they butt heads the most out of the group, because james is quite laid-back and tends to be agreed with or supportive, and remus often keeps his frustrations to himself, whereas sirius is always argumentative and provocative and lily doesn’t back down from an argument. most of the time they fight because they enjoy a fight, though- and it’ll be about something like elton john v david bowie. sirius can make lily giggle like nobody else, and the two of them love to learn whatever new dance is in style and then kill it like the perfectionists they are; she is a car buff and adores his motorcycle, so they rigged it together. lily is uniquely good at making sirius lose his composure/cool, and also the only marauder allowed to touch his hair. they both adore The Cat. there is an unspoken oath between them concerning james and whenever they’re in a fight they circle him diligently. sirius taught lily how to set bones using magic. lily showed him how to use all of the appliances in his kitchen. the closest lily has ever come to dying, sirius was the one to pick her up, and neither of them ever told james about it. in fifth year during the height of their fighting lily once caught a dead-eyed sirius sitting precariously in the owlery playing with fire and she sat with him for two and a half hours until he was in a state to go back down.

other anecdotes.... lily had a terrible brief crush on sirius somewhere between third and fourth year, just because he was handsome and clever and one time in potions they got seated together and at some point he got bored and started weaving the flowers into their hair until they matched and wore them like that all day despite the others giving him shit for it. they have joked about threeways with an increasingly bold lack of irony since before james and lily were even dating. lily fucking loves padfoot and uses him to warm her freezing feet. sirius thinks lily is the prettiest girl in the world. at karaokes they fucking kill it. they love to needle james about various quidditch hot takes they have. they can peer pressure like nobody’s business; not a soul can stand up to them. they have very similar politics. they pierced each other’s ears. sirius tolerates lily in his personal space the most. as duellers they are an extremely complementary pair. they have diametrically opposed tastes in movies. they like to speak foreign languages to be dicks.

tldr i love sirius and lily hahah

[stcrr]

elle fanning. cis female. she/her.  ／  lorelei “lorrie” gunther just pulled up blasting which witch by florence + the machine  — that song is so them ! you know, for a twenty-three year old musician, i’ve heard they’re really -reclusive, but that they make up for it by being so +observant. if i had to choose three things to describe them, i’d probably say chipped glitter nail polish, a silver gilt mirror, losing yourself in the beat of the music. here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble ! ( ally, 22, est, she/her )

me: i don’t have a type when it comes to muses! also me: unveils this new muse that is also introverted and anxious but this time with more glitter. anyways, meet lorelei, starr to her fans, and lorrie to her friends, an observant girl, gifted mimic, misfit, mirror, and musician. kind of a jem and the holograms/hannah montana/perfect blue hybrid. details under the cut, like for me to hyu to plot !! 

(also her pinterest im really proud of it you guys)

statistics.

full name. lorelei amelia gunther. nicknames. lorrie. aliases. starr. occupation. singer-songwriter. age. twenty-three. date of birth. february 1st, 1997.  nationality. american. ethnicity. white (austrian and irish).  gender | orientation. cis female | queer. hometown. boston, ma. zodiac sign. aquarius sun, scorpio moon, pisces rising career/voice claim. lorde.

height. 5′9 weight. 120lbs build. willowy.  distinguishing features. wide eyes, full lips, constant bags, probably has glitter in her hair.  health. 7/10; has no major illnesses but eats like shit, has a whack sleep schedule, is a dysfunctional adult basically. she’s also big depressed but you know how it be. 

positive traits. ambitious, intuitive, observant, imaginative, independent,  neutral traits. talkative, intense, impressionable,  negative traits. anxious, avoidant, moody, secretive, resentful, aloof, 

likes. the nighttime, storms, baggy clothes, mountains, weed, lsd, books, blanket forts, lying on the floor, singing, cryptids, cemeteries,  dislikes. being herself, deadlines, dolls/puppets, the paparazzi, social media, planning ahead, the outdoors, conflict, the beach, 

history. 

(tw suicide mention, anxiety attack) (tldr at the bottom)

her mother called her lorelei after the sirens of the rhine; she insisted her first cries were the sweetest song. and lorelei continued to have a beautiful voice; she sang more than she spoke. but only at home. 

she never responded to lorelei, though, not really; it felt too grand for her. she was a chicken-legged girl who liked overalls and goosebumps books. she was just lorrie.

she grew up in a lower-middle class region of boston, ma. her father was a salesman, and her mother was a travel agent. 

for a while, at school, she didn’t speak at all. she was diagnosed with selective mutism at age five, and it took until she was thirteen to overcome it completely. 

this was not at all helped by the fact that her parents had a nasty divorce when she was seven years old. her father used her mother’s ten-year-old suicide attempt against her in court to prove she wasn’t stable, and gained full custody of lorelei and her two older brothers. her oldest brother, matthias, sided with their father, but the middle brother, jeremias, sided with their mom, and tried to run away to his mother’s house basically every month. he ran away for good when he was fifteen, living with his girlfriend’s family. 

what helped her overcome this selective mutism, at least at first, was her middle school drama class. at home, lorelei had always been an excellent mimic. she did her favorite impressions for her drama teacher, and she encouraged her to try some monologues and scenes. as she got better at acting, she realized that she didn’t have to be herself; she could be somebody else. and that made talking all the easier. 

by high school, she was no longer selectively mute, but was still anxious and shy. she was, however, a total drama kid, and still loved to act. she could be outrageous, incredible on stage; she wasn’t being herself, after all, so if people were judging her, it was the character they were judging, not her. 

still she was def the kind of girl who had a mental breakdown every four months and dyed/cut her hair/gave herself bangs. she could never quite shake the feeling that she was an outsider looking in, separated, different. 

she still loved music, and as she grew older, she started to write songs. it was her secret dream to be a musician. one of her theater friends talked her into singing one of them when she was sixteen, and then encouraged her to try out for the talent show. she was able to get through the audition, though she was a little nervous, but she knew it would be fine. she was on stage all the time, this would be fine. 

but this time, she had to be herself in front of the entire school, and she froze up, not a sound leaving her lips. she doesn’t remember leaving the stage; only remembers that suddenly, she was in the girls bathroom, sobbing her eyes out. 

her friends comforted her that night, partying in their basement like they always did, but thats when lorrie had an idea. what if she didn’t perform as herself? 

that’s when a starr was born. 

as lorelei dressed herself up in all the holo and glitter she had, she created starr in her head; she was born beloved, charismatic, fearless, this glitz and glamor girl who had it all, but what now? even at the top, she found emptiness. she was a beautiful supernova, so breathtaking you forgot she was really a collapsing star. 

starr was lorrie’s ultimate muse; she wrote song after song for her in the next few months, until, finally, she asked some of her friends to help her record a music video. she didn’t expect this music video to get 60 million views in a matter of weeks. 

royals, of course, blew the fuck up, and she had people calling her house to get her to sign with this record company or that record company, and her eventual producer flew her out to la with her dad. and, of course, the rest is history. (her dad also blew a lot of the money she earned as a minor but she got rid of him and that’s neither here nor there.) 

however, as she got more and more into the la lifestyle, she began to rely more and more on starr as an alter ego. people liked starr, after all, and lorrie didn’t even like herself. she played the part of the dignified, wise, and eccentric former queen during interviews, when recording, at after parties and award shows. 

even her first major relationship she got while acting like starr, someone fearless and fun, basically a manic pixie dream girl. if you’ve ever listened to the album melodrama, then you know how badly that ended. 

that’s around when she realized that starr had taken over her entire life. coming home from a house party absolutely zonked, she looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize herself, didn’t see that nerdy, overall-clad chicken-legged girl from her family pictures. 

she stripped her clothes off, scraped the makeup off her face until her skin was red and dry, dragged a brush through her hair to get rid of all the product, and pulled on a hoodie and leggings she had brought with her to la a year ago. she wrote the first draft of all the songs in melodrama in the coming hours. 

however, she still wrote from starr’s perspective, knew she’d perform it as starr. it may be far more personal, but lorrie wasn’t ready to come out just yet. in fact, she’s kind of been hiding the last year or so, a full-on depression mess. 

tl;dr lower middle class nerdy girl from boston overcomes crippling social anxiety through acting, finesses this into an alter ego to be a musician, hits it big, loses herself in the alter ego, has a disastrous relationship, and tries to become herself again. 

present.

first of all, her real name is Known to the public, but not her “brand” outside of starr. it’s proven to be a boon as of late; she’s known for basically being a walking sailor moon cosplayer, not a skinny woman in baggy jeans and a big black hoodie.

since she’s trying to work on herself, she’s kind of in a creative slump. like, she still has more than enough royalties off her music to keep her going, but her agent and producer are both pushing her to clean up some of her songs and record them for a new album. she can still write as starr, but it feels... different, now. melodrama was far more personal than pure heroine, and she wants to continue to grow; writing as starr feels like reverting back to her sixteen year old self. but she’s too scared to write as herself So....

at events though she’s still in the gauze and stars people expect from starr. 

trying to reach out to her mom and brother jer again. not her dad, fuck her dad. 

loves true crime, the supernatural, and conspiracy thought. is probably watching a true crime doc rn. 

she’s just starting to leave her house for the first time in like... a year? like she’s only started to get out again in the last few months.

as for drugs, she def drinks, but she’s more likely to smoke weed. also, she’s a big fan of lsd, but holds herself off to only tripping every few months.

is considering moving to the woods and being the lonely crone everyone whispers about. or maybe switching to voice acting. 

she fuckin hates dolls. literally her worst nightmare is being trapped in some collectors’ doll rooms.  

wanted connections. 

melodrama ex (0/1) - the ex she wrote her breakup album about. can be any gender. i literally want this connection so bad kfdskjkadsfds

best friend (0/1) - someone who was with her throughout her... Transformation

squad (0/3) - bc who doesn't love a squad. this is the vibe i’m going for (sound warning)

icon (1/1) - someone lorrie looks up to and like... majorly doesn't wanna disappoint. - filled by kami!!!

musician buddies (0/?) - they bounce lyrics off of each other, you know how it is.

rival pop star (0/1) - idk i just think it would be Neat. maybe even with a plot that they had a major falling out and now they have to pretend to get along.

hookups (0/?) - or other messy shit

texting crush (0/1) - really weird concept but like... i imagine lorrie would have the number or snap or insta or whatever of this muse and they get talking after melodrama and she just... lays it all out. they don't really talk in person, but she feels really close to them and definitely develops a crush

weed buddy (0/1) - they come to her house and smoke and complain its great

friend turned enemy (0/1) - maybe someone who adored starr but doesn't like who she is now?????? idk idk

enemy turned friend (0/1) - maybe someone who thought starr was fake af but then meets lorrie being Herself and is just like "oh you're a Human" idk idk

bonus.

as a thank you for making it to the end of this fucking enormous intro, please take a moment to enjoy these tik toks reflective of lorrie’s personality (they’re also???? great on their own) 

lorrie talking/singing to herself alone in her house 

honestly she has tinkerbell vibes

drunk mouths speak sober thoughts

and thats on mental illness

[bcketts]

INTRODUCING...ALLIE BECKETT. ( @gallagherintro​ )

OK, I’M VERY EXCITED AND NERVOUS BC...what a weird time to bring in a new character ! i hope it works out, who knows ??? i guess i’ll be plotting with you all for a bit while allie is confined to the 5th floor with no phone lmao, but i have lots of plot ideas and muse so i can talk your ear off forever. so at least there’s that. 

if you’d like to plot on tumblr LIKE THIS POST and if u want to plot on discord, hmu at #kati7600 for a good time ( or just comment or something and i’ll hit u up )

click here for her stats page & here for her pinterest ! 

⌠ VIRGINIA GARDNER, 21, CISFEMALE, SHE+HER ⌡ welcome to gallagher academy, ALLISON “ALLIE” BECKETT! originally hailing from POINTSETT, ARKANSAS they were exposed to too much during the protest, and the academy is now in charge of their safe care. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of ( warm chamomile tea on a winter morning, a collection of polaroids stacked in shoeboxes under your bed, bare feet running through an open field, laughter until your sides hurt. ) when it’s the ( virgo ) ’s birthday on 8/28/98, on the bad nights they request their HAWAIIAN PIZZA from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re safe in witness protection. ⌿ kati, 23, est, she/her ⍀

hi i’m sorry her bio is long and in 2nd person but at least u have lots of time to read it while she’s on lockdown ??

you come into this world silent. from the moment you are born, jeremy, your twin brother, does all the screaming for you. both blonde-haired with blue eyes, things will come easy to you – but even easier for him, because red-faced and screaming, he knows how to make his mark. katherine and richard beckett are thrilled to welcome two perfectly happy and healthy babies. and as your brother screams beside you, develops colic and obstinance, you are deemed the favorite – he is deemed the problem. people underestimate how important those early years are.

it’s your first day of kindergarten and you bury yourself in your mother’s skirt, scared. jeremy runs in the room with confidence, introducing himself to the other kids and settling in the corner near the firetrucks. but you cry so much that your mother takes you home and when you finally come back a week later, all the children stare at you, like you’re going to explode at any moment. but children are resilient and within time, you make friends and you excitedly tell your mother about each new day in the car.

you go to church with your family on sunday mornings and your parents dress you up like a doll. you love the pink ribbons though, the way your parents dress you up and introduce them to all your friends. your brother is a lost cause and gets to play his gameboy on the pews but you are your parents pride and joy and you are paraded around – people love a little blonde girl and you smile widely at everyone you meet. it’s all a show though, you know that as you listen to your parents from the top of the stairs at night, yelling. they’re not happy. you clutch the railing, listening in, and you fight back the tears that threaten to stream down your face.

on your tenth birthday, your parents throw the two of you an elaborate party and you have a bouncy castle and everyone brings swimsuits for the pool. your parents can’t stop smiling. it isn’t until late that night after all the streamers have been taken out with the trash that you hear them yelling again. you listen in from the corner of the kitchen. you hear a glass shatter and you race upstairs to your brother. “i think they’re going to divorce,” you tell him. he laughs. “they’ll never do that, no matter what. we’re catholic, allie.” he flashes you a wry smile and you find yourself wondering what to believe.

your best days are spent at pointsett park. your parents often take you there after church, on sundays, and you and jeremy run around through the forests pretending to be wood nymphs with sticks in your hair. as you get older, the magic starts to fade and you feel less like a fairy princess and more like a moody teenager, but you and jeremy fill a shoebox full of things from your childhood and bury it, deep in the park, by the ugly tree. “if i were a tree, i’d be this one,” he jokes, as if all the girls at pointsett middle haven’t just sent him candy grams. “shut up,” you say, shoving him, “or put you in the ground instead of this shoebox.” he grins wryly at that. “clever.” you always were the clever one.

it’s the first day of high school and you feel like an outsider, everyone’s getting their first kisses and jumping in cars and you have to be home in time for curfew. you have friends from church, but with every glass your mother breaks, you wonder how much you really fit in with them at all. in an attempt to try something new, you go to cheerleading tryouts, but of course, you don’t make the team. at least you won’t have to beg your dad to let you wear the uniform. you trudge home and expect to be greeted by yells - you’ve come home late - but your parents are in the kitchen, berating your brother. he smells like marijuana. he gives you a lazy wink from the kitchen as you sneak upstairs.

a boy asks you on a date, a real one, your first real date ! you’re only a sophomore and wade matthews is a senior and you’re really nervous when he picks you up in his car. he tries to kiss you throughout the whole movie but you’re nervous and really, you want to watch the movie. when he pulls the car in an overhang near the mountains and kisses you, it’s rough and unwanted and he goes in with tongue. it’s hardly the enchanting first kiss you imagined and you pull back. is that what kissing’s like? really? he goes in again, saying he’s really turned on, asking if you want to have sex. you say no, but he tries to kiss you again. you push him back so hard his head hits the dashboard. “take me home,” you say. and he does. he obviously doesn’t call.

you have a few girls over for a sleepover and you’re sitting around in your pjs watching grease and passing around thermoses filled with rosé. you pass it on to the girl beside you without taking a sip. you start to raise the volume on the tv as you hear your parents fighting downstairs ( you think your mom might be sleeping with her doctor, which is all kinds of weird. )  when the thermos comes back to you, you take a swig.

you’re sitting in the basement with jeremy, head in your hands. “that’s it, i’m never drinking again.” he laughs. “allie, it’s your first hangover. you’re gonna be okay. and you’re probably going to drink again. it’s okay.” you shake your head, “this is exactly why it’s wrong, i’m so stupid.” your brother sits on the bed beside you, wraps his arm around you. “you’re allowed to be a stupid teenager, you know? fuck up a bit? mom and dad are…they’re crazy. i love ‘em, but they’re so obsessed with consequences, with image. if you don’t quit overthinking shit, you’re gonna wind up just like them.”

“COMING SOON: POINTSETT MALL” the poster is covered in icons, like a dunkin’ donuts and a macy’s. lots of people in the town talk about how excited they are, but they don’t talk about the fact that they’re tearing up pointsett park to build it, the park that holds all your best memories, all the ways you and jeremy would disappear into the woods growing up, skipping rocks in the pond and catching glimpses of magic creatures in the trees ( creatures that mostly turned out to be squirrels, ) where you buried your time capsule. you and jeremy sneak into the park late at night to dig it up, ducking under the caution tape. while you stand there digging, you get the idea: “we have to save the park!” you say, and it starts out as bake sales, town meetings, the twins who think they’re going to save a couple trees from corporate capitalism. but you make a video of the two of you, the history of playing in the park, and you talk about your dreams and memories. that’s what goes viral, and that’s what garners attention. suddenly, hundreds of people are showing up at your town hall – not because they love the park, but because they used to love their own special place, the one that’s now a walmart, a target, a gas station.

they build the strip mall. of course they do, because in the end it comes down to money. but the social media campaign that spirals, everyone sharing their own special places and what became of them, has made an impact. your project – Save Pointsett Park – is enough to get both you and your brother the interest of several prestigious schools. you have nearly the same SAT scores, even though you took two prep classes and studied for weeks and he nearly forgot about the test entirely, walked in with his shoes untied and a blunt in his shirtpocket. in the end, you both choose georgetown together, because despite your differences, you always do everything together.

you opt for a degree in global health because it combines your interests – biology and helping people, and you have dreams of working in healthcare and bringing it to parts of the world that don’t have it. you might have something of a complex, maybe something to prove. you’ve always had a diminished interest in boys, opting to put your studies first, until you meet him – richard hudson, the sort of boy you daydream about even though you stopped believing in fairy tales a long time ago. he’s the second boy to kiss you and it feels so much different than wade matthew’s sweaty car at the drive in. he’s gentle and sweet, and he makes you feel uncharacteristically special – you wish you’d had the patience to wait for a first kiss like that. jeremy only teases you a little bit when you toss your purity ring – and he never even owned one.

you’re comfortable with him in a way you’ve never been with anyone else, and his attention has you falling hard and fast. you’re obnoxiously perfect at times, all over each other and always laughing, but like most fairy tales, things end. you notice the way he looks at her, the way he talks about her, and the way his eyes linger. you’re reminded of your parents, stuck in some unhappy farce when they’d really rather be anywhere else, with anyone else. you don’t want to be like them – you don’t want to trap him like that. so, you step back where you’re supposed to, even though it hurts, and your saving grace is jeremy, who holds you through the night through your first heartbreak. you experience all your sadness together.

until you don’t. here is the first sadness you’ve ever had to process without jeremy by your side, and it happens so fast. one second, he’s alive, and the next he’s blown into nonexistence, leaving a gaping ache in your chest that doesn’t seem to sooth itself. until now, your life has always been cushy, perfect, and smooth sailing. now, you toss and turn with nightmares, a ghost of yourself, trying to understand why you’re the one who gets to survive and why you matter at all. you’ve never existed in this world without him, and you thought you’d never have to.

you don’t sleep well now. you wander the halls at night, you act a little more recklessly. after all, jeremy broke rules all the time. maybe it’s your turn. 

HEADCANONS.

sweet and pampered, maybe, but she’s still from arkansas. allie is extremely capable with a firearm and has pretty keen survival skills. she’s never actually shot anything, but she’s gone to the shooting range with her dad enough times, and she has been on frequent fishing trips. her family used to go camping quite a bit.

really a terrible driver. she’s really easily distracted and cannot focus, she’s a bit of a disaster behind the wheel, but it’s almost comical – as long as you’re not in the passenger seat.

is bisexual, although she’s never had the chance to explore that. growing up in a strictly catholic household and then spending most of her college years dating a boy, she’s never really thought about. finding girls pretty and thinking about them like that is what everyone does, right?

bakes when she’s stressed or upset. she’s got treats for everyone right now.

currently plagued by night terrors and is having a lot of trouble sleeping, so find her staying up until all hours or wandering campus with some dark circles under her eyes. she’s trying to cope, but it isn’t coming easily right now. it’s pretty disorienting, and anyone who knows her will notice the difference in disposition.

has traveled a lot for mission and/or service trips. uganda is where she usually goes, she’s been spending summers volunteering at the same women’s clinic for the past three years.

pineapple pizza advocate and WILL fight you on that 

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

someone at gallagher she has a crush on. Basically, someone at gallagher who has really caught her eye and she’s stuck daydreaming about. The purpose of this is because she’ll be super nosy about them, trying to learn more about them, and that’s probably going to make this character nervous.

a dare/challenge??? This is so cheesy of me, but I’d love a plot where a Gallagher student has a dare or something to hook up with one of the WP kids and they make Allie into their sort of conquest. Things probably won’t go as planned for them.

brother’s ex/best friend. I might submit this to the main, but I’d love a WP character who was allie’s best friend & was dating her brother. All this grief and sadness and not knowing who to comfort who, but also getting over the loss together.

crushing??? I feel like all the WP kids are pretty paired off, but...it might be fun to have a WP character that’s had a crush on Allie all those years she’s been obsessing over her ex...you know, for pining & angst

any brother connections?? Idk, I’d love WP kids to also be connected to her brother, who was also in the club, so we can probably stem something spicy off of that too. Maybe they were his best friend, or more interestingly, maybe they fucking hated him.

someone from the past. someone at gallagher who knows her prior whether from school, volunteering, etc.she travels a lot and her parents have too, so there’s some flexibility, but maybe someone she knows or used to be close to and they grew apart, but they have the chance to rekindle things now. she probably really wants to.

a close friend. they have been at gallagher for a hot minute now, and I’d love for her to have bonded with a few of the people there. from my understanding, shit’s going to hit the fan, so a few close relationships would be spicy. people at gallagher who were actually really there for her about her brother, probably could relate to losing a loved one, and probably opened up to her. people at gallagher to worry about her safety now. 

hook up? she’s really going through it, and although hookups aren’t typical, ithink it wouldn’t be weird for her to look for a warm body or seek comfort in the first person to smile at her at gallagher...not to mention she’s rooming with her ex and his crush, so a distraction is super welcome. i would also imagine that it’s against the rules for a gallagher student to hook up with a WP kid, so. the drama !

^ on that same vein, maybe a repeated hookup.

a girl to help her realize her sexuality.

someone totally lying to her. a gallagher student practicing their skills and getting to know allie using a totally fake backstory and identity, blatantly lying to her about things. and she’s naively playing into it? and maybe your character is realizing they’re actually fond of her and like hanging out with her, but they’ve lied about legit everything lol.

someone she’s suspicious of. there’s something off about this person, and allie is determined to find out what it is about them that just doesn’t fit.

someone to help her solve her problems by denial. someone who wants to break allie out of her shell and believes that the best way to get over it is to have a good time ! someone to be a bit of a bad influence on her, basically, get her partying, introduce her to some unhealthy coping mechanisms.

someone who recognizes how sad she is? aka someone who’s been in that same position and can really tell she’s faking it every time she says she’s “fine.” this person probably has a sort of fondness for her and keeps reaching out when she pushes away because they know what it’s like. 

[jillianmercers]

( fola evans akingbola, cis!female, she/her ) i took a trip into town and ran into JILLIAN MERCER at the general store. isn’t that the THE RECLUSE you told me about last week? the one who is TWENTY FIVE, as well as DEFENSIVE and RESTRAINED? well, we didn’t chat for long, so i can’t say for sure, but i think you might be onto something…

hey all ! i’m meredith, and i’m 19. i’m currently a freshman in college, vibing in the est timezone and i use she or they pronouns. i’ll give u a few lil funfacts..... i’m a libra, right now i’m VERY hungry, and idk what else to say here. 

( please excuse my lack of theme and icons rn, i stayed up too late ln and did not have time to actually .... make my blog nice ? poor decisionmaking 101. anyway if you want to plot don’t hesitate to message me on discord!!! ) 

tw for alcoholism and sports injury (idk if thats a trigger but better safe than sorry)

jillian mercer was supposed to make it. born and raised in stardew valley to two struggling shopkeepers, the genuine promise she showed in childhood figure skating lessons, she was out of town and on the road, homeschooled by her mother. she was olympic bound, winning national competitions, a star in the making. money she made was sent back to her father and five — yes, five — brothers back home. the baby of the family wasn't supposed to be the hope, but jillian was. she was talented, and determined, and ...

and a failure. a colossal failure. she still remembers what falling that time felt like, though she'd done it a million and one times before. maybe she was too sore, too slow moving, or maybe too fast. she jumped and fell and skidded across the ice to gasps from the crowd. she remembers that falling. she landed on her hip with her arm slamming into the ice, both her wrist and her hip bone breaking.

she returned to the valley and to her family now three years ago, a shell of what she used to be. it took months for her hip to properly heal, and she didn't leave her house for the entirety of it. she's quieter now, not the bubbly, happy girl she used to be. straight laced and moody, it's difficult to gage her emotions or get a response out of her that isn't through gritted teeth. she's in the bar a lot, and whenever she's at home she drinks too. only occasionally can she be seen stocking shelves at her parent's store, but if anyone she knows too well from before comes knocking, jillian quickly dashes upstairs to their home, or into the stockroom.

most of the time when she drinks, she does it not to remember. she'll wake up in her bed the next morning, with a splitting headache and eyes feeling like they're glued shit with exhaustion, and forget how she got there the night before. in daytime, she's functional, but her breath always smells suspicious. even when she forgets everything else, however ... she still remembers what falling felt like.

fun facts!!!! jillian isn't all mystery or misery. in middle school and early high school before she went off around the country instead of just two towns over to skate, she was a friendly face at the schools and many town functions with her family, and was often behind the register at the store. freshman year she was even a cheerleader before being pulled out of school. she's a vegetarian and has a pet bunny that she LOVES with her whole heart. she takes care of it more than she takes care of herself, which isn't saying much at this point. she ALWAYS wears a big, worn denim jacket that used to belong to her father when he was a teenager. she's also a pretty heavy smoker. aaaand she loves the rain, it's her favorite weather.

[gansey-just-gansey]

Punk History 101 part eleven

By Wednesday, the pictures were in Blue's possession. They were shoved under the door without a note or even a knock. Just a little rustling as they slid against the floor. Gansey must have gotten the message when she didn't show up for Women's History. Adam had picked them all up and thrown them out without looking at them.

Ronan had continued to stay the night at Adam and Blue's apartment. The first night, Ronan had attempted to apologize on Gansey's behalf but Blue wouldn't hear any of it. She retreated to her room and listened to Gansey bang around his room, alternating between listening to sad pop punk playlists and cursing himself. Sometimes she cursed him,too.

Because Blue missed Gansey, missed him more than she should. She had only stayed with him for two weeks, but before that, she had still gotten used to seeing him at least twice a week, making sure they both made it to class and conversing on the way to and during Womens' History. Missing Gansey was exactly like missing class. It felt wrong, wasteful. She kept looking at the clock and jumping when she noticed the time, telling her it was time to be there. The semester was coming to an end. She only had so much time.

She had to constantly remind herself that she didn't want more time with him. He had messed up whatever had been growing between them. Blue would be glad when the semester ended and they moved to a different floor with Henry. Or maybe, if she was lucky, they'd find one on the other side of campus and she'd never have to see him again, except in passing between classes. That prospect didn't make her feel better, though.

By Saturday, Blue was feeling a bit more confident. Not enough to forgive Gansey, but enough that she wasn't wearing three layers of clothes just to go to work. She was sat on the couch, pushing around the fruit at the bottom of her yogurt, and watching a movie when Adam came out of his room, freshly showered.

“Hey,” he said, surprised to see her looking relatively normal and comfortable in her clothes.

“Hey,” replied Blue, leaning forward to put her nearly empty yogurt container on the coffee table.

“You're looking... better,” he ventured.

“Feeling better,” she said with a smile.

“That's good.” He returned her smile. “So, how much better do you feel?”

Blue was instantly suspicious. “Enough, I think. Why?”

“Well, Ronan and I were thinking....”

“No,” she answered immediately. “I'm not talking to Gansey.”

“No, no, of course not. I wouldn't even suggest that. We were thinking of going out tonight. I'd really like it if you came with us. With me,” he added at the end, knowing it would be harder for her to fight it.

Blue sighed. “Out where?”

“Cabeswater.”

“Oh, Adam, come on,” she whined.

“He won't be there, I promise. It's been a while since Ronan has been because he's been staying here with me and I don't have to work tonight for once. Don't you want to dance with me?” he teased her, spinning around.

Blue tried to keep a straight face, but when he spun around again and shook his hands out to the sides, she had to laugh. “Fine! Fine, we can go. But if Gansey tries to tag along, I'm out.”

“Deal. Absolutely. I'll go let Ronan know.” Adam trotted off, back to his bedroom.

~~~~

Blue wore her baggiest clothes, not yet confident enough to wear anything tighter to a club, but Adam didn't fight her on it. She already knew Gansey was still in his room, listening to sad music and being moody from her sneaky listening while she was getting ready, so she didn't feel the need to check behind her the whole way down to the car.

They took Ronan's car, which was a BMW that Adam admired greatly. It was so much nicer than his car, dubbed 'The Shitbox', and quieter than Gansey's Pig.

Nope. She stopped right there. Tonight was not about Gansey. She wouldn't make it be.

They arrived at Cabeswater and she and Adam made a beeline for the bar. Six kamikazes and two shots of straight vodka each later, they were on the dance floor, sweating and grinding with abandon. Ronan seemed to thoroughly enjoy watching Adam with Blue, choosing to hang back a couple steps while Adam gripped her hips and bounced along to beat with her.

Halfway through a song, just after the bass dropped, Adam let go of her to turn around. She peeked over his shoulder to see what had gotten his attention.

It was Henry. Blue automatically crossed her arms to cover more of herself, because she knew for a fact that Henry had seen the picture of her. Ronan's hand was on his shoulder, but he didn't completely stop him. Ronan was waiting for a cue from Adam and Blue.

“Can I cut in?” Henry asked, nearly screaming to be heard. Adam looked to Blue and she rocked from one foot to the other, debating. Eventually, she dropped her arms and nodded. Adam stepped away, into Ronan. Henry took Adam's place, hands on her hips and one of his legs between hers. She rolled her shoulders and hips in one smooth movement, pressing down into Henry's thigh. “Good God,” Henry said, just loud enough for her to hear. It was a bit uncomfortable at first, but as the alcohol and music pumped through her, she began to loosen up, feel confident in the reaction she was causing in Henry. He was grinding on her in her baggy clothes just as hard as she imagined he would if she was as bare as she was in the photo.

She leaned back, looking up at him. He smiled down at her and took her hand, beckoning her with his head. She followed him out of the club into the cool night air. They leaned against the building and Blue pulled out her cigarettes.

“You mind?” she asked. When he shook his head no she tapped one out and offered them to him.

He shook his head no again, saying, “My body is a temple, Sargent.” He smoothed his hand down the front of his Icon for Hire t-shirt. Blue followed the movement with her eyes. “My eyes are up here, thank you,” he teased. She flicked her eyes back up to his.

Blue lit her cigarette and took a long drag. “So what are you doing here, anyway?”

“Well the funniest thing happened...,” Henry said, meaning Blue was not about to find whatever he had to say funny in the slightest.

“Out with it, Cheng.” She narrowed her eyes as she took another drag.

“Well, as it happens, I was talking to Gansey earlier....”

“Nope. No. Not today, Satan.” Blue dropped her cigarette, though it hurt her to waste something that was becoming so expensive, and put it out with the toe of her shoe.

“Wait, wait! He didn't send me. He just told me Ronan was going out with you and Adam tonight, so I came to find you,” he said quickly.

“You were looking for me?” she asked, taking a half step back to him. She smiled at him. “What could you need with me?” She leaned up on her tiptoes, putting her arms around his neck. When her mouth was level with his, her tongue flicked out, just enough to taste his lips. This was what she had followed Henry out here for. To lose herself in more than just alcohol, to lose herself in Henry. She was buzzed enough not to care that he was Gansey's friend. She just wanted... she didn't know what. To make Gansey jealous? No, she didn't think so. To hurt him as much as he'd hurt her? Maybe. To be with Henry, right here, right now? Definitely. She tangled her hand in Henry's hair and pulled gently.

Henry's Adam's apple bobbed but he put on a self-deprecating smile. “I can't believe I'm stupid enough to say this right now, but... I think you should talk to Gansey again.”

Blue's smile dropped and she retreated yet again. Henry was going to give her whiplash. “I'm not talking to him.”

“He's miserable without you, Blue.”

“Yeah, I know, I can hear him whining all the time through our shared wall.”

Henry raised his eyebrows. “You can hear each other through the wall? That's hot.” Blue just crossed her arms. “Okay, okay, but really. He's destroyed. And he pulled the project! All the pictures, not just the bad one. Well, it wasn't a bad picture, it was actually really, really hot- not the point. He was going to be featured in the gallery in a couple weeks. But he withdrew that, too-”

“Wait, what gallery?” Blue asked, throwing her hands up in a stop motion.

“The art gallery. The one the university puts on at the end of every semester? With the best work from each class? Our professor was going to give our class' spot. Said she'd have to pick a different one.”

Blue had heard about the gallery before, but she wasn't aware that was how the pieces were decided, not having taken her fine arts requirement yet. “He gave up his spot in the show for me?” The alcohol was making her head fuzzy. Maybe... no. She shook her head. “That doesn't change what he did.”

“Okay, yes, true, but nothing can change that now. And hasn't he done his best to fix it? Not just apologizing, but meaning it and rectifying it as best he can?”

Blue shook her head again, trying to clear it. This seemed significant, him giving up his spot in the gallery for her. Was it just because she was drunk and emotional or was this really a big deal? She wasn’t sure. She wanted to go home. She wanted to see Gansey. She wasn't sure that those two things were different. “I have to find Adam,” she finally said. Henry's face fell slightly. She continued. “I have to tell him I need to go home. And ask Gansey about this gallery business.”

Henry's face broke into a large smile. “Text him. I'll take you back.”

[tessimagines]

After All This (Bill Weasley x Reader) - Part Three

Pairing: Bill Weasley x Moody!Reader

Summary: Bill stumbles upon (Y/N) reading something from her father.

Warnings: angst but also a comforting Bill which everyone needs.

Wordcount: 4.45k

A/N: Gif is not mine! Credit to the owner/creator. I couldn’t find one that I liked on Tumblr so just ended up finding one on google.

August 17th, 1997

Bill glanced around the living room of Moody’s house, the familiar smell bringing now old memories to his mind, each one sending a different emotion throughout his body. He could almost picture the rugged and intimidating man in his armchair, giving Bill a death stare as he walked through the front door for the first time. That had been a scary day, one that Bill had never cared to revisit. But now, it only symbolized a happier time, the image of a girl he loves so much pressing a soft kiss to her father’s cheek.

He could almost picture sitting at the old wooden dining table with Moody, his scarred face looking at his own as Bill tried his best to get his words out. Bill supposed now that Moody had already known that he was going to ask for his daughter’s hand in marriage, Moody had always had a way to know what you were going to say before you did. Bill could still hear his response in his head: It’s her hand you’re asking for, so why are you asking me?

Walking into it, you would never expect it to be the home of Mad-eye Moody. On the walls and on every surface Bill could see, there were numerous pictures of a small yet happy family. Everywhere you looked, there was something that was so iconically (Y/N)’s. A drawing of a young girl, her hand’s held by two parents, her father’s face heavily scarred. There even sat a photo of (Y/N) and himself on the cabinet up against the wall, each of them looking at each other with the most amused of faces. He could remember that photo being taken just as well as he could remember the surprise he felt when he found it sitting on Moody’s cabinet. Moody did not show his approval very often, and never in the most forth-coming of ways.

“I’m just going to have a look in the other rooms,” (Y/N) said, her eyes flickering from Bill to the rest of the Weasleys present. Molly, Charlie and Ginny had come along to help with the clearing out and sorting of all of Moody’s things.

“Okay,” Bill said, moving over to stand next to her. His hand picked up hers and held it in the space between them. “Do you want me to come?”

“No,” She said, giving his hand a tight squeeze. “I’ll be fine. You guys can make a start in here if you want.”

“Okay,” Bill nodded, letting her hand slip from his as she turned and walked up the hallway and out of sight. She needed some time alone in here, he got that. In the face of something so terrible and devastating, she had managed to keep the strength that every person around her admired.

As soon as Molly was sure she was out of earshot she turned to her oldest son. “How has she been, dear? I can’t imagine what she’s going through.”

“She’s doing well, considering.” Bill looked over at his Mum and Charlie standing just behind her, giving them a sullen look. “She still has her moments though. She has dreams most nights and they seem to trouble her. Sometimes, they’re just memories of when she was a kid. Happy ones too, you know. With Moody. Other times, they’re that day. Just over and over again. She’ll wake up and not even realise that she’s been crying.”

Charlie looked down at his feet. He and (Y/N) had been close since they met, and Charlie had always known that she was the perfect match for his brother. She steadied him, and he grounded her. There was never a moment where they weren’t standing side-by-side.

“All I can do is hold her until she gets it all out. But, Merlin, she’s so strong.” Bill said, feeling his body fall back on the arm of the old and musty couch. “He was the only family she had ever known. No grandparents or aunts and uncles. Her mother died way too soon, she can only remember a few things about her. They were so close, the two of them. You’ve all seen them together, seen just how close they were. I mean, look at this place. She’s everywhere. Moody never seemed like a loving man but, Merlin, he loved her.”

“And she loved him.” He finished, looking up to see a sombre look on his mother’s face. She had loved (Y/N) since the moment she had met her. There was no denying how perfect she was for her oldest son, and that filled her with the most joy a mother could have. It hurt now to see her daughter-in-law in so much pain.

“She still has a family,” Molly said, matter-of-factly. “We are her family. You might not have married her yet but she’s been a Weasley long before you put that ring on her finger.”

Bill stood up and gave his Mum a small yet meaningful smile. He put an arm around her shoulder and brought her close to place a kiss to her forehead. She was so short compared to him that he had to bend down a little just to do it. Molly patted her son’s back and smiled at the embrace. “Alright,” she said, turning to her other son and daughter in the room. “We better get started on this. Bill and Charlie, you take the living room. Start putting everything into the boxes we brought. Ginny and I will start in the kitchen.”

Bill took his arm off his mother’s shoulder and turned to flash his closest brother a small smile. Charlie smiled back and patted his brother on the back. They began to sort through the individual things scattered around the cluttered living room, each one telling its own individual story.

“Hey Bill,” Charlie said, coming to stand right next to his brother. He stood close enough so that his words could only be heard by those two alone. “You’re doing a great job, you know. You’re helping her more than you realise. I don’t think she would be where she is if it wasn’t for you. I know she still has a long way to go, but you being there just to hold her or listen to her when she needs it is everything she needs right now.”

Bill clapped his hand on his brother's forearm and moved it up to his shoulder, moving in to give his brother a hug. Bill was trying his best to help her, to make this as easy as he could. He knew that the pain was still there and hurting beyond measure. But to know that he was doing at least something right, gave him all the satisfaction he needed.

Deep breaths, (Y/N). Deep breaths.

The click of the door behind you let you know that it was safe to breathe again, letting out the bottled up air you had kept in your lungs. You closed your eyes and leaned against the hard wooden door, your head pointed up at the bare white ceiling. This house had always been so familiar to you, the place where you had learned to walk, talk and run. The place where you had spent so many sick, sleepless nights curled up in the bed just across from you now. The place where you had brought Bill to meet your father for the first time, and the place you had come running in telling him that Bill had proposed. It was the place you would spend dark, stretched-out nights, a tea in both yours and your father's hand and just talk. It didn’t even matter what it was about. You would just sit there for hours, tea after tea and go over whatever you felt you needed to.

But now, without the man that had made this place so special, the man you shared every memory of this place with, it felt empty, cold and distant. It had lost the familiarity that made it seem like home. It was an empty shell of a much loved time and memory, all else dying along with the man who had called it home for so many years.

You opened your eyes again, taking a long glance around the room. There were different picture frames on his bedside table, each one displaying a member of his family. Closest to his bed was a moving photograph of a younger version of yourself, all clad in your brand new Hogwarts robes. Your father liked to pretend that he never got emotional, but you could tell that he was that day. Not for the fact that you were growing up so quickly, but for the fact that his wife and your mother wasn’t able to see it.

Beside it was a photo of your mother, a five-year-old you sitting on her knee. It must have been only a few months before she died, her young face a reminder of her death that came way too soon. Your memory of the time was hazed, you were only able to piece together the events of that awful week through things you had been told by your father or other members of the Order who had known her. You could barely remember things of her character and only knew how she looked through the numerous photographs your father had throughout the house.

You knew she was sweet and kind and always willing to offer friendly words whenever they were needed. Some people could hardly believe that she and your father were together and able to make it work from the time they were seventeen. The relationship had given way to so many amazing, hilarious stories that had been passed onto you. You wish you could have known her, and gotten the chance to see your parents together at least once.

But that’s not the way that wars work. Sometimes, it’s the ones you love the most that you lose without even the chance to say goodbye. You could still picture your father sitting down at the dining table, little lines of moonlight finding their way through the shades and onto his already heavily distorted face. He was only twenty-seven and a widow with a five-year-old daughter. He didn’t cry or make a noise that night as you peaked your head through your bedroom door, your young and clueless eyes stuck on your fathers face. Even through his silence you could see the pain and hurt on his face. He had looked as though all the air and had been knocked out of his chest, as if such a big part of him had died along with your mum. And then, to your inexperienced mind, his tears seemed to come out of nowhere. His breaths had been ragged and sharp as they struggled to find their way out of his chest. It was the only time you had seen your father cry and he hadn’t even known you were there.

You felt your boots cause the pale floorboards beneath you to creak with every step you took, sitting down on the edge of his bed. Your eyes flickered over to the top drawer of his bedside table, the tip of some waxy brown paper poking its way out into the room. You leaned over and pulled the drawer open, revealing a brown envelope inscribed with the messy and sharp handwriting that you had seen so often in your life. There wasn’t a week in Hogwarts where you and your father didn’t send a letter to each other. You had learned to read Moody’s untidy scrawl long ago. It was only inscribed with a single word on the front, tiny blots of long-dried black ink surrounding your name.

(Y/N), it read, the mention of your name sending your heart into a frenzy as you turned the envelope over. You tucked your short fingernail under the lid and untucked it, revealing two pages of yellow paper. Your breath was a lump in your throat as you pulled them out and unfolded them, revealing the message from your father you had never known existed.

Dear (Y/N),

If you’re reading this, I’m likely dead. We both knew I’d be taken out by some bloody Death Eater, didn’t we? I knew the risks when I joined the order the first time around. So did your mother.

You know that I don’t like being all soppy and emotional, so you know that this letter isn’t going to be any of that. But I know that if I end up going out fighting then you would never get the goodbye you deserve. So I suppose that this is what this letter is about. Giving you our last goodbye.

It’s not fair that you will probably have to lose both of your parents to the same bloody war twenty-two years apart. But both your mother and I knew the risks when we took them. And you have to understand that we had to take them. Otherwise, what chance would you have had of growing up in a world free of all this blood purity shit? And though you are grown now and fighting in this battle yourself, I still had to think of you and the possible grandchildren you might give me some day. Those little blighters will deserve it.

You would have noticed that this letter was sitting on a wooden box, that’s for you too. Inside are little things that I want you to have. They all mean something to me, and some of them meant a lot to your mother. I know she would have wanted you to have a lot of the things in there.

You know I love you. Keep fighting this war, (Y/N). Merlin knows you’re one of the best Aurors that have graced that department yet. They need you. Promise me you’ll live a happy life, no matter how long or short it is. That boy of yours loves you, I know that. It’s what gives me a piece of mind that you will be alright if you ever have to read this letter.

Remember, do your best and all else will follow.

Goodbye.

Your father, Alastor.

You let the words sink in, taking the time to read the contents of the letter over and over again. Each word brought a different emotion to the surface, a few salty tears finding their way down your cheek and causing the ink to blotch where they fell. The pieces of paper moved around in your shaking hand, making it hard for your eyes to focus on the words your father had put on the yellow parchment.

Each word sounded so much like him in your head. He took the reserved yet soft tone he would use when with you, letting bits of his loving fatherly nature in when he wanted to. Nobody else was ever able to see that side of your father; it was something that you had only ever been able to see. It told you that he had always cared so deeply for you, despite the harsh and snappy nature he had when he was with anyone else.

You took a deep and shaky breath in, bringing a hand up to your mouth. You leaned forward over the letter in your lap. Oh, Merlin, there wasn’t a moment in the day when you didn’t wish he was still here. You didn’t care if he was embracing you, or telling you of his past adventures as an auror or member of the original order. Hell, you wouldn’t even care if he was screaming at you about a stupid mistake that you had made. At least he would still be here with you, alive and breathing, the only parent you had ever had the chance to know.

You reached across and pulled the wooden box out of your father’s bedside table, pulling it into your lap. It wasn’t overly big or fancy but made out of a nice cherry wood, a vine-like engraved border around every edge of the box. You hesitated before lifting the lid up, your eyes moving to glance over the numerous little things your father had thoughtfully placed inside.

Some of the things you had seen before, like your mother’s golden locket, a photo of your father holding you as a newborn baby locked away inside. There was your mother’s wedding band as well as a pressed rose from her wedding day. You could picture your father now, telling her how silly it would have been to keep a thing like that. But you knew she would have just shaken his words off and pressed it anyway. No matter how stupid your father had thought it was at the time, he never would have been able to get rid of it once she had died.

Both of your mother’s and father’s Auror badges were in there, a symbol of the dangerous line of work they had both dedicated their lives too. Their names were engraved in silver over the black wand, Alastor Moody and Adeline Abbott. Next to them sat an old and slightly discoloured wizarding photograph, the moving figures of a happy, smiling couple, a newborn child wrapped snuggly in a white blanket being held by her father.

Your father was so young in the photograph, his face almost completely unscarred. He was looking down at you, pure amazement in his eyes at the new little person he had just made. He sat down at the dining room table in the house you had grown up in, your mother standing next to him, her arm sitting on his shoulder. You watched as your mother’s eyes flicked up from your tiny, scrunched-up face and to your father’s beside her. Her face softened as she took in the look on her husband’s face, completely engrossed in his brand new daughter in his arms.

“Oh, dad,” you said, your fingers grazing over the moving photograph. Your throat was tight and constricted, your voice coming out hoarse and strained. Your cheeks were wet with silent tears as you watched the look soften on your mother’s face over and over again.

At the bottom was another old piece of faded yellow parchment, the ends curled up with the years it had seen go by. You picked it up, the dry and thin paper so delicate between your fingertips. You carefully unfolded it, your eyes darting over the lines of words written on the page.

It was another letter, but this time it wasn’t your father’s messy scrawl that greeted your eyes. This time the letter was written in a tidy cursive, each letter almost seeming too perfectly set out to be written by a human’s hand. This was your mother’s handwriting.

Dearest Alastor,

I know I said that I would be home today, and believe me, I wish that could have happened. But things happen in this line of work, you of all people know that. Dumbledore stressed that it was important for this job to get done so I’m going to see it through until I finish.

How is (Y/N)? I so wish that I could see the both of you. There isn’t a moment where one of you are not on my mind. Please let me know how both of you are doing. You’ve always been a disaster when I’m not around to make sure you don’t do anything silly. Do make sure not to let (Y/N) play outside with the gnomes again. I think I was cleaning dirt off her for a week straight last time. You know how many times I’ve told you to get rid of them.

Over the last few lonely days, I’ve had a chance to go over the many important moments in my life. I don’t think I ever told you about the moment I realised I loved you. It’s quite funny, actually. I had a good laugh when I thought about it this morning.

It was our seventh year and right in the middle of one of our Potion classes. Slughorn was busy off helping a Hufflepuff girl who I can’t quite remember the name of and you were standing next to me. I can still feel the smile on my lips when I realised your gaze kept flickering towards me every minute or two. Somewhere along the line, you had completely forgotten about the potion you had meant to be making. I remember it boiled over and dripped onto your hand and burned it. But instead of turning red, it turned a vivid shade of blue. You were so embarrassed when it happened, I can still picture the look on your face. Especially when Slughorn came over and you had to explain why his best student had just been so careless. Oh, the look on your face was priceless.

I can’t help but smile whenever I think of it, or the look on Anna’s face when I told her! Of course, I’ve never heard your side of it. Maybe you can tell me when I get back home.

You know I love you and (Y/N) and I’ll do my best to get home to you two soon. I can’t wait to give my two favourite people a kiss again.

Missing you.

Your loving wife, Adeline.

You took a large, shaky breath in, your eyes glossing over the words once again. He loved her so much. Even without seeing them together, that fact had always been as clear as day to you. And in your hands, the old and faded letter you held, was some proof that your mother had loved that man just as much. Alastor and Adeline. You had always heard they were such an uncommon couple, so different yet united over something in common: their love for one another. And, you knew, for you.

“(Y/N)?”

Your head turned to look up at the tall red-headed figure standing in the doorway, Bill’s scarred face looking down at your own. His face softened when he saw the tears on your face, taking a step through the door and closing it behind him.

“Are you alright?” He asked, taking a seat next to you on the old, cast-iron bed. You nodded at him, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Yeah,” You said. “I just found this – uh. This letter.”

You picked up your father’s letter beside you and handed it to Bill, watching him take it in his hands. His eyes moved from your face to the letter now in his grip. “It’s from Dad. I don’t know when he wrote it but he wrote it for me in case he died. He said he wanted it to be our last goodbye because he thought I deserved one.”

“And I know why. It’s because he never got one from my mother. He gave me this letter, in that wooden box right there. Look at the date: August 16th, 1975. That’s two days before she died. It was the last thing he ever heard from her.”

Bill stayed silent for a second as he took in your words. He had finished reading the letter in his hands, his fingers playing with the rough yellow parchment. He reached over and put an arm around your shoulder, bringing you in to rest your head on his chest. He placed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his nose moving around in the loose strands that sat there.

“You’re so strong, you know that,” Bill said, his breath ruffling around the hairs on your head.

“I’m a mess.” Your voice cracked at the end, causing you to close your eyes against his chest. You wanted to curl up into a ball on your father’s old bed and sink into the very mattress.

“No, you’re not,” Bill said, certainty in his voice. He was so certain of his words that he rushed them out, trying to make you see what you were so clearly getting it wrong in his mind.

“You’re the strongest person I know. Despite everything that has happened, you haven’t backed down. You’re still out there, fighting for the cause that you and your father believed in. Don’t ever think that you’re not strong, (Y/N). Your strength is the thing that reassures me that everything will end up okay in the end.”

You sat up and looked up at the man in front of you. Oh, Merlin. You loved him with everything you had. He was your guiding light through everything that this god-forsaken life and war could throw at you. He was your other half, and you had been assured of that long ago.

You placed a hand on the back of his neck, your fingers finding their place in his long-ginger hair. You pulled him close, wrapping your arms around his body and letting the tears from your eyes fall onto his shirt. Your chest shuddered against him but you didn’t care. You couldn’t care less how disgusting and messy you looked in front of this man. You knew he would smile and hold you just as close anyway.

“I love you, you know that?” You said, leaning back so that you could look at his damaged yet beautiful face. “With everything that I have.”

“I love you too.” 

He leaned forward and placed a kiss to your lips. You fell into it, moving your hand to rest on the side of his face, your fingers sitting on the scars that lay there. The kiss wasn’t overly long, but it still had the power to bring a light and warm feeling to your chest. No matter how many you had shared with Bill over the years, you never failed to grow sick of them.

“You know what I was thinking?” Bill said once the kiss had finished. “I was thinking maybe we should move into Shell Cottage. I know the plan was to do it after we were married but I want to live alone together again.”

You gave him a soft smile, your thumb grazing his cheekbone from its place on the side of his face. “I’d love that.”

Bill smiled once more, leaning in to place another tender kiss to your lips. You fell back on the bed, your arms wrapping snuggly around his neck as ran a hand through your hair.

That boy loves you, I know that. Your father’s words came into your mind, his voice a perfect replica in your ears. It’s what gives me a piece of mind that you will be alright.

Your father was right, like he always seemed to be. Bill Weasley was the reason you knew that gradually by gradually, you would be able to smile again.

What did you guys think?

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Is That Another JoJo Reference?! JoJo's Bizarre Adventure References in Non-Anime Media!

In our previous article, we took a look at the many ways that various anime have paid homage to JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure, from small sight-gags to extended visual parodies, the amount of creators who felt some love for the series was easy to find! But what about in non-anime media? It isn’t always easy to make a JoJo pose seem tonally correct in your video game, music video, live action  TV show, comic, or other media after all, but these creators we found had more creative and interesting ways of paying homage back to Hirohiko Araki and his amazing series. Much like our first article, we’ll be keeping these reference sightings up to Part 5 only to avoid spoiling any of the future fun, and do be warned that some of these references might be spoilers for past JoJo seasons. Overall, the range of these references varies from minor cameos and callbacks to characters and situations being developed with JoJo characters in mind, so let’s get right into it and take a look at the various non-anime JoJo references we’ve found!

It probably comes as no surprise, but musicians and JoJo go together pretty well. Many of the original names and influences for the series come from Araki’s love of various types of musical genres and artists, and it seems that they love him right back! Numerous singers and even idol groups in Japan have given the nod to their favorite JoJo poses and characters, with some even going as far as reaching out to meet Araki as superfans themselves. Hello! Project’s ANGERME and Iikubo Haruna have done various JoJo inspired poses in their blogs and choreography, even recreating the infamous “Go Go Go” SFX with their arms! The iconic Kyary Pamyu Pamyu is a huge fan of the JoJo series, often making JoJo poses in her own videos, such as in "PONPONPON," and even wearing JoJo themed merchandise, going so far as to even name one of her pet dogs JoJo.

Perhaps one of the most famous idols, Shoko Nakagawa (AKA Shokotan) is a notoriously huge fan of the JoJo series, busting out JoJo poses so often that she even injured herself doing Narancia’s pose on stage, breaking her tailbone! Her devotion has paid off, however, as Shokotan got to meet Araki to interview him! Shoko’s interview even lead to Araki making a special stand, Love Note, with an interesting origin involving... Shokotan and Jotaro’s child?! Outside of Japan, the group Starbomb included Giorno’s “I have a dream” pose in their video for “SMASH!,” with Luigi of all characters striking the iconic pose!

  Some of the most interesting homages to JoJo pop up in various video games, with some being blatantly obvious, and others needing developers to pull back the curtain and reveal their true intentions! Given the nature of JoJo’s storyline of vampires and supernatural powers, it might not be surprising at all to learn that the Castlevania series has featured numerous nods to the JoJo series throughout its legendary run. Castlevania Symphony of the Night features a Stone Mask, and it makes another appearance in Curse of Darkness. There are a few “Ora ora ora” references laced throughout various Castlevania equipments and attacks, and Dawn of Sorrow features a fight at a clock tower against an enemy named Zephyr who can stop time and throws knives… Now, where have we heard of someone like that before?

    Speaking of stopped time, the DOTA 2 hero Faceless Void seems to have some JoJo influenced nods to everyone’s favorite vampire. His ultimate ability, Chronosphere, stops time for anyone caught in it but himself for a few seconds, sure seems coincidental, but his model also adopts a similar pose to DIO’s classic WRYYYYYY! pose while casting it. In a recent update to the game, Phantom Assassin got a new splash image featuring her in Jonathan’s pose for her unique cosmetic set, the Bloodroot Guard. In Persona 5, the main character is given a choice to answer the question “What is the name of the phenomenon where the second hand looks like it stops moving?,” with one of the choices being “The World.” And in the fighting game Skullgirls, DIO is referenced numerous times between characters Valentine, Peacock, and Eliza. Valentine can stop time, Peacock drops a steamroller on her foes, and Eliza features an obvious color palette reference to DIO’s classic Part 3 outfit! The game also features Big Band, a character who has a move where he shouts “Tuba Tuba Tuba,” similar to “ora ora ora” or “muda muda muda,” depending on how you hear that in your head. Night Warriors: Darkstalker’s Revenge has a few nods to DIO as well, with a design sketch of Donovan by Takenori Kimoto posing like DIO in one of the art books; more interesting, Donovan, known for his ability to summon various spirits to aid him in battle, also has a sketch where he summons Abbachio’s Moody Jazz!

    In a series already filled with lots of crazy references and homages to other anime and video games, it probably comes as no surprise that the Danganronpa series has numerous JoJo references throughout its titles. Some of these appear in both the games and anime, such as Junko posing as DIO and her penchant for quoting “Muda muda muda,” while others are specific to the games, such as Super Danganronpa 2’s Hanamura saying he can taste if people are lying, Monokuma using a Heaven’s Door like ability, and there’s even a reference to the Bow & Arrow, called the Meteorite Arrowhead. Some other fun references include Mondo, whose hairstyle (and attitude regarding it) seem like they might be related to Josuke, a reference cemented in place when players learn that his biker gang is called Crazy Diamond! These JoJo references likely don’t come as much surprise, considering Naegi’s initial introductory comments about not having a Stand, but the dedication to weaving them into the various games, and in somewhat natural ways, is pretty impressive!

    Speaking of Polnareff, video game designers must have loved him, because aside from poses and thematic references, Polnareff’s mere existence may have had the most influence on game design of the entire JoJo series! Katsuhiro Harada, the director of the Tekken series, directly cites Polnareff as inspiration for series mainstay Paul Phoenix’s iconic hairstyle and first name. Tekken features a few other nods to JoJo, with Jin and Kazuya having gloves similar to Star Platinum’s, and Tekken 7’s newcomer Claudio not only poses like DIO, but can even equip an “Ancient Mask.” In the King of Fighters series, Benimaru Nikaido is another clear homage to Polnareff, again sporting a unique and reminscient hair style and style of dress, and in fact, Benimaru looks so much like Polnareff that developers of the game referred to him internally as “Polnareff!”

    A few other references pop up in King of Fighters, with Leona Heidern’s Earring Bomb 2: Heart Attack special move is an homage to Yoshikage Kira’s Heart Attack. Leona can either wait for the bomb to explode, or detonate it on her own, much like Kira’s Deadly Queen, and Leona’s voice line upon detonation, “You’ve lost in the end,” is similar Kira’s “You’ve lost in death” line. Another King of Fighter character, Mian, has an attack called Rangurenbu that has her shouting “Ariariariariari,” just like Bucciarati! Finally, Street Fighter’s Guile owes his creation to Polnareff, who started as the base model for the character, according to producer Noritaka Funamizu. Ironically, a dev decided to play with Guile’s sprite, and his hair spread to look a bit more like Stroeheim’s, which stuck! The name “Guile” is even a reference to “J. Geil,” Polnareff’s archenemy! Street Fighter has quite a few obvious nods, most notably Rose, who wears a nearly identical outfit to Lisa Lisa, who also hails from Venice.

    There are many more one-off references to be found in various games. Persona Q has a quick segment where the Persona 4 cast pose as various JoJo characters. The original Ninja Gaiden game decorates a stage with Stone Masks and Pillar Men, while Senran Kagura 2 has a few clothing options for Mirai that directly reference Star Platinum and The World. Shin Megami Tensei: Strange Journey has a reference to the Sword of Anubis with the equipment Cursed Sarai, stating that it is the “Sword of Anubis that drives victims mad,” and an attack ability called Bites the Dust, which inflicts Bomb status on a target who then explodes during their next activation!

  The Touhou Project games have numerous soft references to JoJo sprinkled throughout, with characters such as Remilia and Yuugi making a few references to the series, but the most obvious is Sakuya Izayoi. Sakuya has the ability to stop time, and throw knives! Other references might be quick and hard to miss, such as Yakuza 0’s quick and cheeky nod to the JoJo series: During a fight with a secret boss whose first name is simply “Jo,” Goro Majima (the best boy in Yakuza, by the way), thinks to himself afterwards what that “Jo” guy’s deal was and what a “bizarre adventure” it was to fight him.

  When you move away from video games and music, it’s interesting to see where JoJo references might pop up; after all, many of these mentioned were still developed by Japanese teams and artists, meaning that JoJo likely played a big part in entertaining them growing up or while they worked. But if you were to look towards American comics, you might find some odd homages! Now, one of the most infamous is a comic known as Diesel, which isn’t so much an homage as it was an adaptation (for lack of a better term; it really just takes the entire plot and renames and Americanized people and locations) of the Fool and Iggy storylines of Part 3. The comic was pretty obscure, but got attention in 2016 when the Stardust Crusaders anime hit, and became a source of some odd laughs and memes.

  For an actual homage, X-Man Annual has a page where the Hulk gains some very unique yellow armor, making him look like The World! In the Archie Comics’ Sonic the Hedgehog comics, quite a few little references found their way into the Off Panel section in the back of the book. In issue 270, Sonic and Knuckles face off (with Sonic as Kenshiro and Knuckles dressed as Jotaro) in “manliest anime” challenge, and in the first issue of Sonic Boom’s spin off comic, another Off Panel segment features Knuckles posing like Joseph, complete with a green scarf!

  Western television and web shows have also made a few nods to the series. Adult Swim’s anime inspired Ballmasterz:9009 character Chimpendale strikes Jonathan’s pose at one point. One of the most overt and direct references to the series happens in NBC’s Heroes, with Hiro Nakamura writing in his blog that he wants to “Be like JoJo and go on adventures,” with Part 3 being his favorite. Beyond a few mentions to other JoJo characters in his blog throughout the series run, Hiro’s superpower shares quite a few similarities to that of DIO and Jotaro, as Hiro is able to stop time! Even the grim, dark future of the 41st Millenium of Warhammer 40,000 isn’t safe from JoJo references, as the popular parody series If the Emperor Had a Text to Speech Device by Bruva Alfabusa on Youtube features three characters called the “The Fabulous Custodes,” who look suspiciously like a few half-naked superhumans!

    It seems that JoJo fever is worldwide, with creators from all over the world, in various media and genres, have all worked in ways to pay respect to Hirohiko Araki’s unique and wonderful series. As JoJo's Bizarre Adventure continue through Part 5 and gain more and more followers, we can only assume that these fun nods to Araki’s world will continue; we even left a few off because they’d spoil some of the fun of Part 5, so consider this just a small taste of the influence Araki has had. So while you’re enjoying the new season of JoJo, keep your eyes peeled for other references in shows you’re watching, games you’re playing, and even music you’re listening to; you never know where a JoJo reference might pop-up!

Know any other JoJo references you flipped for? Let us know in the comments!

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Nicole is a features and a social video script writer for Crunchyroll. Known to profess her love of otome games over at her blog, Figuratively Speaking. When she has the time, she also streams some games. Follow her on Twitter: @ellyberries 

By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com

[erhiem]

Photography thistle brown. Image courtesy of Gauntlet Cheng

Cuckoo Mess Anges D Mode! ‘What’s in fashion?’ You are welcome here. What a stylish seven days have been! This week, as of now, we’re bringing you our go-to picks on the best shows, including Matthew Williams’ double whammy, a dispatch from New York’s totally popping New York, and all you need to know about BALENCIAGA’s Instagram black-out. is required !!! Crazy, we know! Read on to find out what’s in fashion.

Photography ryan o’toole. Image courtesy of Bianca Saunders

Raise a glass to Bianca Saunders!

As you’re certainly well aware, fashion awards season is underway. Following the announcement of Matty Bowen’s double win at the International Woolmark Awards a few weeks ago, we now turn to the ANDAM Awards, great lady List of French fashion awards instituted by Nathalie Dufour. This year’s final seven were basically a hit list of some of our favorite talents – Bianca Saunders, Casablanca, Aria, Ludovic de Saint Cernan, Roch, GmbH and Grace Wells Bonner – so whoever took home the €300,000 cash from Balenciaga CEO Injections and Sal’s advice from Cedric Charbitt would have been totally deserved. Given the nature of fashion contests, though, there can only be one winner, and this year — after blown up the panel with her upcoming SS22 collection — Bianca Saunders scooped up the main gong! She said on the announcement, “I cannot express in words how thrilled I am to receive such a prestigious award and I am truly honored.” “Consulting with such a major player in the industry, as well as financial support like this, will really help me grow my business and realize my lifelong dream – establishing Bianca Saunders as a global fashion brand. ” A dream we are sure will come true. M / s

Image courtesy of Acne Studio

Acne Paper launches new book

Earlier this week, Acne Studios gave us the . took a trip down memory lane with the launch of acne paper, a book that celebrates the legacy of Acne Studios’ brief but remarkable time in the editorial arena. To celebrate the occasion, we asked Thomas Persson, the magazine’s former editor-in-chief, to tell us the stories behind some of the most iconic moments from its collection. If that doesn’t convince you to see it, we should also add that the 560-page coffee-table tome also includes a portfolio by photographer Christopher Smith and new essays by Sarah Mower, Vince Aletti, and Robin Muir. More than just a nostalgic return to the world of fashion editorials, it’s a priceless window before social and digital media took over the game. KK

Photos courtesy of Hunza G, Chromat and ISA Boulder

Designers pushing swimwear

It’s a new world, darling! And after this summer, if your wardrobe isn’t spacious, exuberant, and eco-conscious, you can’t sit with us. Luckily, these four swimwear brands; Issa Boulder, Chromat, KNWLS and Hunza G are here to redefine what it means to be ‘bikini-ready’, showing you what can actually reduce your impact on the planet while still Aa fab beach look is pulling off. From Isa Boulder’s pursuit of what it means to be “oddly sexy” to an appreciation of chromate’s curves, cellulite, and scars, to bikinis made from recycled Lycra yarn, these new jean labels are defying conventions and their own rules. are making. Read more here. KK

Balenciaga logs off

Eight years ago, Phoebe Philo said that “the best thing is when you don’t exist at Google.” Her adage still holds, although if the recent antics of some of fashion’s biggest players are to be noted, the best thing to do today is when you’re not on Instagram. Following in the footsteps of his Kering stablemate Bottega Veneta, Balenciaga has cleaned up his Instagram account! And in case that wasn’t drama enough for you, they have done so just days before the much-anticipated fashion revival of Demna!! fashion gasp!!! Unfortunately, we don’t know more from you what that means, but the timing and the fact that the account itself goes live will mean a big fucking moment is in store. And much more to keep your eyes glued to your screen fast! xoxo M / s

Alex Takes a Moody Beach Trip

Think about a trip to the beach, but make it appealing. Matthew Williams did just that to present his latest collection for 1017 ALYX 9SM’s, “BEYOND.” In a Brody movie, the American designer took us on a surreal sci-fi trip to the shores of Planet Alix and fielded a rich collection with hippie-inspired styling, futuristic textures, and oversized hoodies. A colorful bikini with matching leggings, a structured double-layered hoodie, distressed jersey, soft cotton dress with twist and knot details, and an armor-like leather moto jacket, it was a perfect synthesis of fantasy, comfort, and wearability—one that Just what we all want from a post-pandemic look! KK

Givenchy Resort in Paris Was About an American

Think your schedule is packed? Well, imagine what Matthew Williams must have looked like! Long booked and busy, these past seven days the California-based designer created the Alyx . left my latest collection for and A whole ‘Nother One for Givenchy! In his latest outing for a Parisian home, he decided to focus on the spaces he calls home. “In my collection, I always speak to living reality,” he says. “For Spring 2022, our first pre-collection runway show, I wanted to bring together my American roots and my brand new life in Paris.” Here, a sense of transatlantic cross-pollination came through strong in the pieces, suggesting a unique sense of Parisian chic – think high-collared dresses with armor-like leather sleeves and cut-out slinky evening dresses. Jacket – street and quirky with a healthy dash to American. “There is an energy to strike out for a new adventure, of creating something familiar yet completely new,” says Matthews, a key vehicle for that sense of newness is his collaboration with Seattle-born, Mexico-based artist Chito. , whose looks, accessories and even expressive graphics feature on the Rimowa suitcase. Chapeau, Matthew! Who doesn’t love an American in Paris! M / s

Photography thistle brown. Image courtesy of Gauntlet Cheng

Gauntlet Cheng takes to New York at night

New York, New York, it’s one hellish city… and it’s back! In fact, as you may have seen on your screen when all the elite fashion lesbians in town together livestreamed Madonna crawling over a bar and bubbly (we love it!), the Big Apple is alive and kicking once again. is killing. There are very few people, however, more thrilled to see life return to their streets than Esther Gauntlett and Jenny Cheng, the combined force behind — you guessed it — Gauntlett Cheng, and stylist and photographer Thistle Brown. In fact, they’re so excited that they even paid tribute to the lively night spirit of their newly-revived hometown in their recent campaign, featuring none other than Coco Gordon Moore. Here, all three of us need to know about the photos, what they missed most about New York at night, and their post-wax party essentials. M / s

hi friends! For those not familiar with Gauntlet Cheng, quickly tell us the story behind the brand, and how you work together. Esther Gauntlet: Jenny and I met about 7 years ago while interning together at Eckhaus Latta. Our first shoot with thistle was in 2018 at a love motel in New Jersey. We connected immediately and realized that he really understood our clothes and the way we work.

And for those of us not in New York right now, tell us: What’s the atmosphere like? like: It’s just honestly crazy. The roads are completely packed and there is a kind of mental energy everywhere. We shot it in Times Square on a Saturday night and I assumed it would be quiet – theaters are still closed and that was before a lot of restrictions were lifted. It was really wild though – people on ATV bikes, people everywhere and kids taking prom pictures. I feel like we were all a lot more excited and excited out there.

thistle brown: New York is definitely back, alive and kicking!

jenny cheng: Plus, it’s hot in New York right now, and we’re all reconnecting and embracing each other despite the stickiness.

Photography thistle brown. Image courtesy of Gauntlet Cheng

What is the story behind the campaign? TB: I moved back to NYC after living in New Zealand (where I grew up) for a few months. I think I leaned back on my teen melancholy albums while I was there. I couldn’t stop listening to PJ Harvey City Stories, Sea Stories. The album is a love song for NYC, it’s about being young and open to a city that treats you like an unlikely lover. When the girls asked me to shoot something, I thought we needed to shoot in the thick of it, to bring back the lights and all those vibes of Manhattan.

JC: We wanted to capture a classic New York City look, but with a sense of newness – a spring energy.

What made Coco Gordon Moore your ideal star? TB: I’ve always been inspired by Coco’s mystery, grace and spontaneity. There’s something so outspoken about her while at the same time having a delicate sensibility. To be honest, I could make a book about cocoa.

like: Coco has an incredible energy – everything came alive on her but she really looks home.

JC: Totally, Coco is a star! It was great to see the synergy between thistle, cocoa and the city. It was so magical and so energizing, especially when Coco’s curls were open.

There is quite a sensual, nocturnal energy to the images. What have you missed the most about NYC nightlife? like: I missed the ease of it. The feeling of walking on a hot summer night and you can bump into anyone, and anything can happen.

JC: I used to remember those holiday parties we would throw where we would dress up and see all our friends. Hopefully we can do another one soon.

TBI think New York nightlife is now beyond a relic, we’ve realized that the city can’t function without it. We have a lot of friends who depend on it for income too, so it’s really important that we don’t forget how special it really is.

Photography thistle brown. Image courtesy of Gauntlet Cheng

Tell us about the night Coco is going out. where is she going? Who is she looking at? like: I think there’s a certain undoing in the photos, like she’s going out and coming back from something. It feels like she sorts herself in the big city but is at home and at ease there.

JC: She doesn’t have a plan, she’s taking everything in it, taking it as it goes, feeling a little flirty.

TB: She is just doing her job, looking lost but never alone. Making moves and eventually landing the right party.

Finally, what are your top five post-pandemic New York nightlife? E: Time to wear a dress again! A bag that can fit a bottle of wine you’ll probably drink by the river. The people you love. People you haven’t seen in a long time. It’s only four, but don’t think you really need more than that…

J: Shooting hoops in the park in the evening, eating chips and walking on the river with friends, wearing beach-ready clothes, rose water mist, and feeling sexy in no time.

T: Chapstick, bike at night, showing skin, dancing in the streets or on the river, and smooching crushes you couldn’t catch before.

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