#but it's all in the veneer of Lord Bitch of all Bitch

[halflingkima]

vox machina will always reign supreme in my heart but watching tal play percy after the context of his later characters feels important to me

[mdhwrites]

TOH Fans Don't Know What Redemption Is

TL:DR: TOH as a show uses the tropes and veneer of redemption a lot but fails to actually engage with the fact that redemption is not about no longer being a dick. Your kind of a dick friend does not need to be redeemed for calling you names, they just need to stop calling you names. No, redemption is about making up for past sins... Which TOH never does.

You do not go to confessional to tell someone you did something bad and then ask them to forget about it. You go there to be told what you must do to be redeemed in the eyes of the Lord or to be assured that there was no sin in the first place. If there was, you are asked to perform a service, even if just a set of prayers, to make up for your slip in faith and show your devotion to the path of good. You sacrifice your time and seek to do better. That is inherently a part of redemption. I frame this religiously but hey, if you get rowdy in your buddy's house when they asked you not to and you break something of theirs, you don't just apologize. You usually actually try to make it up to them if you can because otherwise all you've done is give them words when it's actions that spoke for your disregard to them. You might even ask what you can do to make it up to them.

For an absolutely classic and genuinely amazing example of this: Megamind. In the middle of his arc, Roxanne makes it clear that what Megamind has done has hurt her. Hurt what she cares about. That it has made her world worse. What does Megamind do? He returns the art, he cleans up the city... In his own way and in general UNDOES HIS CRIMES. In that one moment, he stops being selfish and actively attempts to make up for it for someone else by righting his wrongs. The worst you can say is that he's doing it because he likes someone and wants their affection but like... Yeah, that's the motivation to change and Megamind even admits himself that he's finding doing good to be enjoyable now. It's a powerful moment because it so clearly contrasts who he was in a way that would be impossible if he were not seeking redemption and being redeemed.

The ONE TIME TOH actually manages this is Lilith. She recognizes that cursing her sister was wrong. She recognizes that her attempts to be the most powerful person on the Isles was wrong. As such, her betrayal of Belos is NOT her redemption. If she chose to betray Belos because she personal gain in it or saw that it was a dead end in life, it would not be redeeming (this will come up later). Instead, she is truly redeemed because she gives up potentially everything but especially her ability to be above others and her sister by taking the curse unto herself. By sharing that burden she was responsible for first and acknowledging that what she did, specifically, was wrong.

People don't champion Lilith though as some great redemption, do they? Not when it comes to TOH. She's overshadowed by the ones given more of a to do like Hunter, Amity and The Collector. Especially those first two though. So, how do they manage?

Amity has crimes. She bullied Willow when she did not have to as Odalia's demand was ONLY to stop being friends with her. She bullied Willow regardless. She attempted to murder Luz. She tried to remove Luz's ability to use magic and was overall just a general bitch who was more than happy to keep taunting Luz for entertainment. She is genuinely a fucking AWFUL human being at the beginning of the series. Does she even bother recognizing this?

No. Not with more than words. That's all Willow gets. In fact, Amity is so disinterested in making up for being a bitch to Willow that she ignores EVERYTHING about her for almost an entire season after they 'make up' which they only make up with words. Amity just says the right thing and seems to think that's all it takes. She still uses Willow for her own selfish needs in Falls and Follies and she doesn't respect Willow during Labyrinth Runners. She does literally nothing to actually redeem herself for this.

How about refuting Boscha or her mom? Those are pretty big deals and against her old self, right? Well, yes and no but we need to interrogate the why for that. To the audience, it is meant to signify Amity giving up her past influences to be a better person. As I stated at the top, it is a common trope in redemption arcs which TOH does engage with. However... She's doing them for Luz and not because of the past. She tells Boscha to go fuck herself not because Amity was a grade A bitch with Boscha but because Boscha is now bullying someone she cares about so she can dropped just as fast and brutally as she did Willow in the past for the sake of pleasing someone else. NOTHING about her behavior is different except now she's doing it for someone as good. That's not redemption. We don't praise the Punisher here just because he murders bad men. Odalia is similar. It's not to make up for Odalia's influence or the things she did because of Odalia, it is to selfishly proclaim her own personhood... And more importantly, save her girlfriend. It's not even to make up for the expulsion, it's JUST to keep Luz alive. Yes, she gets them unexpelled but only once she first acts for the sake of Luz not dying. She has NO INTEREST in getting involved until then and at that point, it's not her crime, it's Odalia's. That's what makes her motivation being Luz not work because the motivation might be Luz, but the result isn't her facing her past, it's just facing a cartoonish villain.

And if your argument is "Well, all she did was because of Odalia," I would respond with, "Okay, that not a redemption then, that's just a regular character arc." If your character does not actually try to IN UNIVERSE redeem themselves, how can you call it a redemption arc? Sasha is ready to DIE for all of Wartwood to make up for the fact that they're gonna get wiped off the face of the map because of her. She acknowledges that she was wrong and always wrong and goes out to do something about that. She gives up command to Anne in order to try avoid her old mistakes because she is so actively trying to do better than she used to. Redemption is never easy and requires shit like this. The best way to do it fast is, well... Death.

This is why the heroic sacrifice trope is so beloved for redeemed villains. They go from spending an entire life causing misery and being selfish to making the ultimate sacrifice against that which they stood for. In one moment, they seek that redemption... But expect no reward which only further bolsters how this is redemption. Redemption is selfless. You never HAVE to redeem yourself. You never expect a prize or even a better life from redeeming yourself besides being able to sleep better at night. It's a powerful trope...

And Hunter's version of it is literally the worst example I can think of for the trope. Yes, we technically get him rescuing the Emerald Entrails before this as a moment of redemption but what about just redeeming his time under Belos and as the Golden Guard? Well... Essentially no one even gets more than a token apology for that. He just sob stories his way into people's hearts instead of actually do anything to earn their affection outside of Willow KIND OF. But hey, that should be fine since he does sacrifice his own life, right?

Well, again, context. What does he sacrifice for? Because it's not anyone other than him. Just listen to literally the words he's saying. He talks about how much better his life is now. How much he likes the perks of being a good guy like friends. He barely remembers to include that stopping Belos needs to be a part of this without him just looking like a mooch of a friend because he never mentions how it feels good to help people, how he hates what he did with the Emperor or even that he believes more in self expression now. It's ENTIRELY selfish. He doesn't even expect to die, he's just telling Belos to go fuck himself and ends up dying in the process, which is actually pretty normal for a selfish henchman betrayal it's just that the show doesn't realize that's what he's doing.

This is indicative of the show's approach to redemption as a whole and we even get a thesis statement on that. The Collector. If you just say you're sorry and are on the correct side, you're redeemed! Making up for all the damage you did when you absolutely can fix it in like a week? Actually putting yourself up for punishment by those who's autonomy you took away and then tortured? Fucking ANYTHING besides unpuppeting people that he did for months to terrorize the entire Isles? No. He said he's sorry and he's just a goofy little guy so he's redeemed! Right?... Right?

And then the Collector takes this very basic idea of redemption, of just needing to show a bit of kindness and people will magically change, and applies it to Belos. For only the second time, in the whole series, does it not work. The problem with saying that means the show understands this topic and has nuance is... The other example is Kikimora. Neither of these characters are people. They caricatures of villains. They're so pure evil that the idea of redeeming them is, well... A joke. Literally, in the show, the attempt to redeem Belos is a joke. Why would you think the baby eating psycopath was just going to need a hug? That is the level of cartoon villain we are dealing. That's not nuance, it's bullshit, which is why it has never functioned as a critique of SU like it clearly is, especially not when the person who does it JUST NEEDED A FEW KIND WORDS. Like the Collector literally IS just the arc they describe and then try to mock and never even blinks at this fact.

But we call these redemption arcs because they were tokenly villains before hand. I would at this point argue that we need to stop doing that. If we think TOH even purports the concept of redemption, that implies you can learn how to write redemption through TOH. You can't. Bluntly, you cannot because it barely ever tries and when it fails, it fails miserably.

The Diamonds at least promised, and kept their word, to undo their damages. I don't think you get to mock that with your redemptions when you can't even manage that much 75% of the time. See you next tale.

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[simplydannie]

Hi ! Can you write a Velvet centered fanfic ? Maybe where she gets hurt and doesn’t say anything until it gets bad because she doesn’t wanna been seen as weak

Haii!!

Okay you got it! Forgive me if it takes awhile by the time I post this lol I wanna make sure it’s decent for you! I also work on the fics off and on as I have other stuff too 😊 Okay let’s see how this would go:

TRIGGER WARNING ‼️ Mention of blood and g*nshots

The twins are on the run. A gang of Rageons hunt them down. Velvet finds herself injured, but she keeps it hidden… she needs to be strong, she has too…

They ran and ran. They could hear the screaming and yelling coming from behind them…

“Damn succubi get back here!!”

“Don’t look back! Keep running!” Velvet yelled as she pulled her brother.

“Where? Where are we running?” Veneer asked nearly tripping as his sister pulled him by his sleeve.

“ANYWHERE!!”

She maneuvered them into an alley. She followed the twists and turns hoping it would lead to a way out…. Dead end.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” She murmured. Glancing up at the wall there was nothing for them to climb…

“A window!” Veneer exclaimed. He got near, bending down, holding his palms together, he motioned for his sister to go up first.

“What about you?”

“Pull me up when you’re through… JUST HURRY! They’re coming!”

Their pursuers footsteps could be heard echoing down the ally way. Veneer boosted his sister up through the broken window, she reach out to grab her brother pulling him in.

Thankfully, the building was empty. She grabbed his wrist and lead him through the dark abandoned building. Velvet knew it would be a matter of time before they figured out where they went. They best not be there when they did.

It felt like hours, but the twins finally made it out of the building and through the front door. Velvet let out a sigh of relief… they were in the clear… for now. She stared up and around what was the city of Under Rageous. A scowl came across her face…she couldn’t believe she was back. She couldn’t believe the life of luxury and fame was over. What’s worse, the thugs of the under-city knew who they finally were…. No, not pop sensation super stars Velvet and Veneer…. The daughter and son of one of the most ruthless crime lords in the under-city….and now bounties were on their head.

“We need to get the hell out of here.” She declared, “Let’s make a run for the border… I know a way we can escape.” She said.

Veneer frowned, “Vels there’s nothing but the woods surrounding us, you know how dangerous that is?”

“Nothing different than what we’re facing here Ven!”

“….. Maybe we can go back to….”

“No.”

“But…. He’s our dad. He’ll…”

“I said no! I’ll be on my death bed before going back to him again! After all he’s done and treated you Vennie, you still want to go back?”

“….. he’s our dad…..”

“He’s a nobody!”

“Now, now, what will daddy think if he hears you talking like that?” The voice startled them. They turned and a saw the Rageons had finally caught up to them… they lingered to long. The twins backed away until they saw they were surrounded…. There was no way out.

“Just leave us alone!” Velvet demanded placing a protective arm over her brother.

The Rageon smirked, “Don’t you know how famous you two are now in the under-city? I mean you did want to be somebodies after all didn’t you?” He took out a knife and waved it in the air, “You think your daddy would mind if we sliced you up a bit?” He reached over and grabbed Velvet by her wrist.

“Hey! Leave her alone!” Her brother lashed out but was grabbed by a second goon behind him.

“Let us go!!” She kicked and fought against her captor. He pinned her to the floor hovering over her, a scowl of disgust on her face.

“You’re feisty, and cute…. I like that combination.” He smirked at her, running his finger along her cheek.

“In your wildest dreams!”

SMACK!!

She headbutted the goon straight in the nose. He screamed and fell back holding on to his nose for dear life.

“She broke it! Little bitch broke it!!!”

Velvet reached over and grabbed the knife he dropped. She ran to the Rageon who still held her brother and stabbed him square in the leg. He yelled in pain dropping Veneer to the floor.

“HURRY UP! RUN!!” She began to pull him again. They didn’t make far enough when they began hearing it…

BANG! BANG!

The twins could feel the bullets buzz by them. Pulling Veneer she dove underneath an opening that lead into another alley way…

Thats when Velvet felt the scorching pain on her side. She fell to her knees… but she didn’t cry, she didn’t scream… she sucked in the pain…

“Vels!” Veneer called out trying to pull her to her feet.

“I’m fine. I just tripped.” She lied as she stood up, “Keep going come on!” She gripped her side as she ran.

They really had no sense of direction, they just ran until they could feel they were safe. Eventually they came upon an old abandoned factory.

Velvet lead them inside. She saw it was an old mining factory, containing numerous levels. They could easily find something and hide for the night at least. So, she kept walking.

The more she ran, the more she was walked, the more pain scorched her body. She leaned against the wall, “Wait, let catch my breath really quick.”

Veneer nodded, “I’ll look ahead just a bit more okay?”

“Whatever.” When she saw the coast was clear, that her brother wasn’t near, she removed her hand from her side….a bullet wound….blood. How much has she bled out? She looked back from where they came from… Crap. There was a small trail of blood… she’d lead the goons right to them. But she couldn’t tell her brother. He’d freak out. He was relying on her for strength, she just couldn’t do that to him. She peeked making sure Veneer wasn’t coming back. Taking a piece from her skirt, she wrapped it around her wound and pulled it tight, hopefully good enough to stop the bleeding… at least momentarily.

“Come on!” She hears her brother call out as he approached her again, “A little bit further. Maybe we can find like a break room we can stay in.”

“Let’s just go.” She pushed past him as she lead the way….

…. They walked…. And walked…. And walked…. They walked until Velvet felt like she couldn’t anymore. The pain was to much. Nausea began to over take her. She peaked inside a room, “Let’s just call it a night here. We’ve gone far down enough.”

“Okay.”

They secured the door behind them, and as soon as they sat down, exhaustion took over. Veneer looked at his sister as she was sitting a ways off.

“Vels?” He patted the spot next to him.

“No. I want my space.” She told him…. Truth was, she didn’t want him to see the mess she was in. Hopefully the bleeding would stop soon enough; maybe some rest would make her feel better. Veneer just frowned as he looked at her..

“Good night.” He said, but she didn’t reply…

…. She waited until he was out cold before she tore another piece of her clothing to wrap the wound some more. Velvet tied the knot tighter, allowing for more pressure on the wound.

“Dammit.” She said to her self. How could this have happened? Her eyes darted around the room… no cabinets, nothing… no first aid, no cloth… empty. Velvet curled herself into a ball hugging her knees. She leaned her head against the metal beam near her….

In the morning, she had to find something that would help her, at least until they could run into someone willing to help them. For now, she would rest. Velvet didn’t realize how tired she was until she finally let her body relax…within seconds, she shut her eyes… and was out cold.

Veneer woke up with a yawn and stretch. He rubbed his eyes. Being so deep under ground he couldn’t tell whether it was still day or night… he would have to check somehow. Veneer looked to where his sister slept; she had fallen asleep leaning on the beam. He crawled over to her to silently wake her.

“Vels.” He called to her….. she didn’t move.

“Velvet, wake up.” He whispered again….nothing.

“Wakey, wakey. Come on.” He reached over to touch her…that’s when he felt the coldness in her body.

“Vels?” Frantically he grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her, her head dropped motionless to the side, her lips were pale.

“VELVET!” He began to cry. How? Why? He looked at where her hand lay, clutching her side. “Oh no, no, no!” He removed her hand to see the wound that had bled out. How long had she been like this? Why didn’t she tell him anything? “Velvet please!” He begged.

He gently positioned his sister on his lap. Moving his head to her chest he stood quiet…..

THUMP….THUMP….

Her heart…. It was barely there, but he could feel her pulse…. She was alive….barely.

“It’s okay Vels. I got you. I got you.” He hugged her as tears streamed down his face… was this how he was going to loose her? How long did she have? Veneer held her tight as he thought what he could do to save her…. He had an idea… he knew someone that would help them… someone who would save her….but he knew she would hate him for it… he knew she’d rather have died… but Veneer didn’t want his sister dead, he needed her, she was his pillar…and right now… he had to be hers…

… He had to get word out to their father somehow.

[intertexts]

SHAKING U BY THE SHOULDERS. TELL ME ABOUT UR P5 HEART PLAYERS YOU KNOW I LOVE THOSE !!!!!!

HHHSDFHBGHDFG HDFHGDHBBBBJFGJ <- BEING SHAKEN NOISES.

OK. ok. my p5r heart players... god. so there r three of them & they all are character foiling each other & all mirroring each other in like, notably similar ways. (a LOT of the character work in p5 IS based around like,,, characters mirroring each other, their trauma echoing or having common roots, similar issues, etc. but these three + another guy r all specifically parallel 2 me.) heart as an aspect is all about... identity, right? who you are + who you pretend to be + the tension btwn those, & also yr relationships + how u interact with others... (which is SUPER fucking p5 coded in general-- like... the entire crux of the game is 50% identity shit + 50% the way u form bonds with others changes ur life)

anyway the one i'm thinking about most rn is called kasumi yoshizawa! she is a very nice cute pleasant high school freshman who's very good at gymnastics & wants to pursue it professionally, and she's dedicated her art to her dead younger sister, sumire, who unfortunately passed in an accident about a year ago and who she really misses...

... except it turns out that she's actually her dead sister :) she's sumire, and she was... brainwashed? by the antagonist of the arc into believing that she's kasumi-- because the antagonist really just wants the world to be a kinder, better place; he wants everyone's wishes to come true :) and sumire's wish is that she (inadvertently responsible for her sister's death)'s more like her sister, because her sister was perfect and amazing and better than her in every way. which is fucking horrifying-- everyone else just,,, knew she was sumire, but she just. Went around the world dressing in her dead sister's clothes and fixing her hair like her dead sister and using her same mannerisms and believing she was her!!! for a year! genuinely a nightmare scenario. do you think she slept in her dead sister's bedroom. do u think it made her parents sick. anyway her conflict between "i literally NEED to be anyone else i CANNOT be myself i cannot live in my own fucking skin i can't do it vs. what. should i just live out a lie? keep living in her dead skin?? drag her corpse around after me because i'm too selfish to let her rest?" insane to me. good lord.

the next guy, goro akechi (MY LITTLE GUY!!!!!!!!!! THE ONE IM BONKERS ABOUT!!!) is ALSO a nice pleasant boy hes also very charming and such :) he's a famous cute celebrity also!! hes super popular as a genius cute boy detective >:3c he. ummm. god. where do i even begin. well. he's also clinging to ghosts & dead bodies & such. he spent his formative years entirely alone and being bounced around the system. he literally fucking genuinely like no shit has a god out there making his life as fucking miserable as possible. like im being dead serious here theres a whole ass god up there making his life the worst it could be. so. well. he's so fucking desperate (like, sickeningly desperate. the kind that's really kind of offputting like you know that's not gonna get you anywhere man.) to be loved or even appreciated he becomes a mass murderer about it. his seven year plan is

-kill my dad

-fake my whole personality so im lovable because theres no way thats happening otherwise

-fuck it we ball.

guy with the most fragile and convincing veneer of pleasant charm possible and under it is this seething morass of hatred and shame and jealousy and anger. anyway he's a heart player because 1. he's a 1 for 1 foil of akira (the next heart player) & 2. because his whole. Deal is being insanely fucking conflicted about himself. he genuinely believes in justice and like. Morality and such, he always keeps his deals and repays his debts. and he's often just a vicious bitch & also a hitman working for one of the worst people on the planet! i'm not explaining it very well but he mirrors sumire so heavily in like... conflict btwn his self + who he wants to be + how he's perceived + what he Wants + what he thinks he wants + the way he interacts with the world... aughghghhhh. their partitioning off of Different Selves for different things is very. well. & they both also heavily parallel each other re: being VERY different than they appear to be initially & being so hard 2 Know. etc.

speaking of partitioning off different selves-- the third guy!!! akira kurusu!! the protag of the game!!!!!! his whole DEAL is that he has a hundred different masks he sifts through & wears for every different occasion, he's a different guy to his friends & his mentor figures & his enemies & the world in general!!!! not that any of them are Fake, just that they are... not the whole thing, you know. absolutely key to his character also is that he's Very sharp and observent when it comes to dynamics btwn people & very good at making connections btwn people (he could Also be a blood player. but like... he Literally Steals Hearts. it feels too on the nose to pass up.) anyway. auugjfjfjfgghkbgh they r all SO DEAR 2 me they r all such good characters.... all of them have such an interesting dynamic together!! three massive liars with insane relationships to selfhood. etc.

[morgana-ren]

I'm starting to think Astarion is your golden child in this AU. He's always seems to be descrobed as the level headed mature one compared to the others! I know thats not true, So let's dirty him up a bit. Give me some vile gross tidbits about your version. Give me some violent delights about this boy

Oh god, you are RIGHT. He is actually the golden boy for the funniest reason.

Hilariously enough, it's because he has a lot of love and support and affection from his brothers. His trauma is acknowledged, and he was he most open to working through it, and he has a lot of support for a work in progress mentally. He was able to talk about it and although Corvus and Reaves and Ilya are very toxic in some ways, toxic masculinity with each other isn't it. They'll happily love and support him. Corvus especially is very good at caring for someone when he loves them, and he loves Astarion and his chosen 'family' to the point of embarrassment on his part. Part of taking Astarion under his wing and making him his responsibility was helping him deal with his trauma, and he acknowledged that, and he did it. It was important to him.

Because of this, Astarion ended up a bit... Healthier than everyone. He had somewhere else to focus his sadistic tendencies rather than on himself. He's still a complete bastard, but it's not trauma-fueled.

Now, it's a double-edged sword, because the people helping him weren't exactly healthy. He worked through it, but uh.. aside from a lot of talks with his brothers, it was very much not in a healthy way. That being said, he's one of the only ones who has achieved his revenge, taken back control of his life, and is genuinely content with the way things are. Cazador is dead, he has taken back his agency, and he has worked through his issues.

He has control of his body, his life, and who he keeps around him. It didn't make him a compassionate, and kind person (good luck with the present company) but it made him healthier and less vindictive. It made him capable of rational, healthy thinking when needed. He understands people better. He can understand plight and trauma.

He has to be the voice of reason because everyone else is still plagued by their issues. Everyone else is still, in one way or another, still actively suffering.

Corvus's 'father' is still alive in a lot of the aus, and he cannot rest and cannot be complacent while he is alive. That is his living nightmare. He still lost everyone he loved because of his 'father'-- his siblings, his true parents, people he chose to love, etc. He was literally put through hell and came out forged in fire. He's still angry and ambitious and suffering underneath all that domineering, hateful shit. He wants the throne because that is the only way to end it. His 'father,' his fear, his endless cycle of hate. He feels like with all the power, that is literally the only time he will be safe and will have enough power to keep everyone he loves safe-- and he buries that underneath power hungry bullshit. It's part of why he turned Astarion into a fully honed vampire lord weapon-- so he could protect himself because he loves him. Corvus very much is suffering underneath all of that ballsy veneer. Don't get me wrong, he's a son of a bitch, but it stems from intense trauma. He became this way because he needed to for survival and the survival of everyone he loves. He cannot rest until he feels safe, and he is so paranoid at this point-- even through all this power-- I don't know if he ever fully will without a lot of working on himself. It is tied in to who he is as a person, his theological beliefs, all of it.

Reaver never ever dealt with anything. He lost the two loves of his life, inadvertently abandoned his children, and became a selfish, wretched motherfucker to cover his overwhelming pain.He suffers consistent night terrors and cannot be alone with himself, self medicating and killing to soothe the agony of it. He accidentally killed one wife, and then he watched another woman he loved wither and die and refuse to stay alive with him because he was such a bastard that they were literally ideologically opposed because of who he made himself. It was his own fault and he cannot face that. He killed everyone he loved, all of his family, all of his friends, all of them accidentally but still selfishly and foolishly and to cope with that, he has to lean into being a cold, unhinged, ruthless murderer. He believes that, aside from his brothers, he will spend eternity alone, with him passing the world by as an immortal monolith and plague of humanity and that the only thing that matters is temporary hedonistic pleasure because it's all he has. He has given up on every being truly happy. He does not want a wife, or children, or any legacy but death that is his Industry and his gun. He does not want anything else that will pass on without him or inevitably see who he is. He has made his existence a giant flashing warning sign. A harbinger of pain and suffering and a warning to keep the fuck away or you too will die. Pleasure and death is the only constant. He was already a bastard when he met Corvus. He has stayed one out of sheer stubbornness because unpacking it all just might kill him, but they do get him to open up occasionally.

Ilya never dealt with anything. To put it simply, he died in his prime trying to prove himself, and never let that go. When he died, he went hollow. He went straight to work in the hells and that just made him worse. Seeing the worst that reality had to offer and having his own experiences to boot. He realized that nothing truly means anything and that anything that has ever mattered was either taken away or abandoned him. Even death cannot spare you pain. The only person he loved, he will never see again, and even in death, there is no release. The only certainty is pleasure and that is all that matters. He came to a similar conclusion as Reaver. He makes a very rare exception for his brothers (and truthfully he expects them to abandon him later as well to be completely honest,) but he became extremely averse to relationships and any form of love and care because it ends up stabbing him and causing more pain than if he had just.. stayed away. He is in a self-imposed bastard isolation chamber. He will outlive everyone. He will lose everyone. It always blows up in your face, even if he doesn't outlive them. He finds happiness in shallow, foolish things, and he is staring down the barrel of eternity, same as his brothers, with no true love and experience waiting for him. He thinks that this is all there was and all there will ever be. He will not find love, or happiness. It will always leave him in the end. The only thing that he has are things he can control wholly.

Corvus and Ilya? They went through literal hell. Manifestations of fear and the horrible wretched things that made them who they are. They had to be there, but don't think it didn't impact them.

Reaver? He did this to himself. But he is so far gone, so past the point of being able to heal, that any attempt would probably unwind him. His wounds are scars he would have to cut open to restitch and reset himself.

Asto though? Asto's wounds were fresh. They were still there. Corvus found him, gave him the catharsis of revenge, and then helped him take back his autonomy. Gave him the agency of complete choice. Pushed off his seduction attempts once he understood just how bad things were. Helped set him right and realize that he didn't have to do this, and this his body, his mind, his personage are entirely his own. It wasn't too late for him. Corvus made sure to ensure that he never had to do that again. If he never wanted to touch another person, he never had to. Not him, not Reaver, not Ilya, not a single soul. Asto put in the work to be better and they helped him along the way.

Their love was not conditional. He helped him get the means to protect himself from ever being a slave again, and unleashed him. Completely untethered. No conditions. Just love and care for someone. He didn't expect his soul. He didn't expect anything in return. He just wanted him to be okay-- a rare show of selflessness for Corvus, mostly because he saw himself in Asto at first. And then he grew to genuinely love him.

All of them are suffering. But Astarion's demons? They're dead. He got his revenge. He got his time to heal. He has people who love and care about him. He has had time to work through it all.

That made him the inadvertent reasonable one. He hates it so much, but sometimes he must be the rational one and the voice of reason because everyone else is so utterly broken. They take shit too far. They have difficulties acting like normal, reasonable, rational adults and making normal decisions. Asti-boy had time to work through a lot of his bullshit, and he's just a bastard cause.. he can be. He enjoys it. It's the way he lives. There's very few unaddressed, deeply rooted reasons left. It's just how he likes to live.

Don't get me wrong, he very much is a twat. He is. Is absolutely is. He's not squeaky clean or level headed by any definition of the word. Any at all.

But when it comes to the others, he is, in the strangest way, the 'oldest' and 'most mature'-- (even though llya is technically the oldest if you want to get very strange and technical, but it depends how you quantify 'age' because he died and just sort of resumed living as a fiend, with Reaver following, and then technically Asto, with Corvus having more life experience and only being slightly behind in numbers.)

So when it comes to gross tidbits, I need a little bit... more to work with. He's just as gross as they are. He's very much a 'part of the group' and is really only rational when all else fails or something is going very wrong. He absolutely will join in the chaos and be a prick when he wants to-- and he always wants to.

What kind are you looking for?

There was the 'Asto sleeps with Corvus's fiance' debacle. The 'Asto proposed to the girl first to steal her' debacle. The 'Asto is not allowed around weddings' bit. There's the 'Asto becomes the terror of a small village and becomes a permanent babayka (not to be confused with baba-yaga) for them' incident. Like he's been a real shitheel for years. There are fewer examples of him being level headed than there are of him being a twat. If you're looking for specifics, I got 'em.

Like he is absolutely still a shithead. He's just a bit more... put together than the others sometimes.

[mermaidsirennikita]

Weekly Book Recs: 9/22-9/29

Duke of Depravity by Scarlett Scott

A very classic historical--pair a drunken, PTSD-ridden war veteran duke with a takes-no-shit governess who's actually spying on him because he's suspected of treason? It's delicious. This is the first time I've read Scarlett Scott, and I love the heat to her books, the wit and sense of humor matched with melodramatic emotion. The air is a bit... Tessa Dare meets Elizabeth Hoyt. Which is a really good combo, I've gotta say. Will definitely read more from her soon.

The Billionaire's Fake Fiancee by Annika Martin

Annika Martin's Billionaires of Manhattan series always evokes the sense of a truly great cinematic romcom. A lot of "romcom" novels are not actually funny, and she has such an upbeat sense of humor in her writing, along with some serious sex appeal. I didn't love the third installment after super enjoying the first two, but this one was a return to form--it may be my favorite yet. You pair a hairdresser obsessed with daytime soaps and Hello Kitty on a yacht with her stern client who hates everything she represents (... or rather, he's obsessed with everything she represents) and force them into a fake relationship... You have magic. Actually, fake dating is so ubiquitous in contemporary at the moment that it often doesn't work--but here, it so does. A fabulous "grumpy hero has a love realization" moment included.

The Princess Trap by Talia Hibbert

Kind of wild that I've been bitching about being bored with fake dating lately, only to recommend two fake dating books back to back. But in my defense a) they're both really good and b) they both came out a few years ago, back before the trope was quite so exhausted. Anyway! This is great. I'm a sucker for a good royal romance, and this hits. Ruben's a very "nice guy in the streets, fuck you and leave (consensual) bruises in the sheets" type of hero, which is difficult to resist. And he's a Danish-ish prince! But where Talia Hibbert really excels is in writing great heroines, and Cherry is no exception. No nonsense yet bratty (in other words, the ideal match for Ruben) with a tough veneer that masks a very sweet, very kind heart. It's super hot--there's a moment where he tells her he likes to take control in bed, and has an "oral fetish", as if these are potential problems--but it has a soft center. TW: domestic violence (not between the couple). #23for23

Her Errant Earl by Scarlett Scott

A classic "marriage in trouble by way of his dipshittery" book, short and sweet--or not so sweet. I personally enjoy a cheating book. In this case, Will and Victoria never really had a relationship before he began cheating; he marries her to appease his father, sleeps with her once, and is off on his way for six months. But it doesn't hurt her any less, and so you have a lot of groveling, some secret keeping, and plenty of righteous anger on her part. It's not complicated, and it could stand to be a bit longer. But if you want a good long grovel with actual misdeeds to make up for? This is it.

Her Lovestruck Lord by Scarlett Scott

Another "low-down cheating dog" book, as the second installment of Scott's Wicked Husbands series (a series with a premise for me if there ever was one). In this case, however, Maggie's husband Simon never bothered to consummate the marriage before ditching her--because he was already in love with a married woman, who subsequently dumped his ass, leading him to accidentally deflower his wife at a masked sex party, during which she was planning on cucking him in revenge. Whew. And I kind of fucking loved this one. Whereas Will of Errant is a rake through and through, Simon is stern. And possessive as fuck. And so confused, because he does not love wife!!! But why is wife all he can think about??? Why wife so pretty??? This one is for the "alpha male is downed by love" crowd, with a charming heroine and a third act twist that I didn't love, but--I did love the subsequent angst. Definitely scratched an itch.

[rainsmediaradio]

Lil Durk - 300 Urus Lyrics

Lil Durk - 300 Urus Lyrics Verse Tee, his first time out of jail He ain't give me a hug, he hugged the block (Wheezy outta here) I can be in any city, I ask them, "Where I find a mosque?" Gotta watch out what I say on here, they'll do me like my pops Do him dirty, crazy I never want them to do me like the opps See, my brother ain't gotta look me, if he on feet, he shoot in Crocs See, them niggas I used to love say they gone do me like I'm Pac Tell them Flavor Flav around his neck, that boy live with a clock Whole district on him on a high speed, he still ain't throw the Glock Wе in war, so if you high speed with a gun, you getting cold Brodie dead, you saying his namе still, you ain't did shit for a show I don't even tell his ass to be careful, he don't even slide even to get caught Pulled up, his ass was froze, that mini micro made assault How you gone play with me? I got money, nigga, your lil' ass gotta walk How you gone play with me with your lame ass? Your bitch-ass getting caught Murderman, we call him, "Murk, " we don't call him nothing 'Cause he getting watched (Go) Niggas thought we got into it with Drench, but I told Drench, "Send the song tonight" Niggas dead wrong tryna meet with me in a hotel with a mice You ain't chase nothing down in years (I know) He ain't even send you money for years (I know) I'm from the Lam', we might just jump out a Urus (I know) Say he a killer, I start covering my ears (I know) He made a channel tryna buy some veneers (I know) It's a reason niggas ain't here with me, these niggas ain't here with me Bro gone shoot, he get that clearance, I don't think they hearing me See, that cousin shit be scaring me, that shit gone bury me They be fucking with the opps, huh? 'Cause I ain't they brother They be tryna hit the O up and tell them fuck us Still be smoking on the Dro just before the summer These grown gangsters, they be mad 'Cause they can't have my number (Go) I told him, "No" when he asked for money, he thought that shit was funny I went on the 4 and I told Mikey Lord to talk to Varney We can pay for surgery, but them other niggas can't get sturdy Knew your ass was a bitch, when you seen't the opps, said you couldn't get dirty Hope you pray for all them niggas 'Cause they ain't no killers no more They be begging 'round the city 'Cause I ain't give them no money I still answer, but they know I'm still not giving them nothing He just offered me protection, start to tickle my stomach She told me, "Take a Cialis, " she tryna get shit going Heard he went to dialysis, man, his head started growing He a killer from that side, bro, I bet I'm gone know him He a killer from that side, I bet brodie don't know him She gave me top inside a Maybach, I ain't close the curtain And I was in front of the Trump, she got drunk off the room service She told me she scared of her ex, I told her, "I wish he would hurt you" He be on my block, his ass ain't shit, his ass a 'Wood roller You a gangster 'round her, but you ain't gangster 'round me You a gangster 'round cuz, you ain't gangster 'round C If they call you "Backdoor, " man, you get from 'round me You ain't my Blooda, then you can't listen to Tee Grizzley and me Shoot the club up, I can't shoot the club up You just seen what they just did to Shiesty, you got me fucked up I don't care about camera phones, forever got my gun up Rather get you before you get me, you got me fucked up I just drove it manual in the G-Wagon and got it fucked up Fucking the transmission up, I'm touching on that damn clutch Ayy, bro, bring me Smurk 'Woods, I really don't want no damn Dutch I feel like a bitch, I told a snitch I'd rather pay him up Draco in your bookbag, my Draco in my pants, tucked I ain't even gone cap, that barrel dirty, it fuck your pants up Click it to the right, it go, rrah, fuck ya mans up If a goofy come around, Lil Boona'll put his hands up Bitch, I'm from 300, I'm the first one with a Lamb' truck Every time we fall out with them niggas, they hit the 'Gram up Migo gave me a feature with no money, he gave them grams up You can't even cut nothing less, he got his hands full, nigga

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[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

MINNIE SENPAI!! blease do E, I, K, L, N, O, W, Z for Leo? 🥺💖 (i might have gone overboard, so feel free to choose the ones you like the most fhdgk)

Haha, welcome welcome!! I’m honored kouhai, please don’t worry! 💖💖💖 I hope you enjoy this post~ 

Under a cut for length, yet again LOL

Fluffy ABC headcanons listed here for requests!

E = Emotions (how does he express emotion around her?)

Bold of you to insinuate Leonardo has emotions that aren’t imposed against his will HAHAHA. Just kidding, but he does have a hard time not clowning and hiding what he’s feeling. Say it with me kids, repression. That being said, I think he will always have a hard time expressing himself without hesitation in his relationship. His first instinct is to soothe and protect; he doesn’t really know how to put himself first, very few people have ever cared to put him first in his life. One of the hardest things about being capable with the mental acuity of a blade is that everyone just kinda assumes you'll be fine (compounded by the fact that he feels burdensome asking for help). And while there’s no doubt he can take care of himself, everybody needs a daijoubu from time to time ;-;. I like to hope that his MC will be able to see through to the truth of his feelings over time--even if he doesn’t openly enumerate them--before he can smother his emotional needs into silence. Furthermore, I think he would be a little more open/obvious about the depth of his love over time because, at some point, those feelings would accumulate to the point of overflow.

With Leonardo, vulnerability is a slow burn; he will reveal what he’s thinking someday, but today is not that day. Have patience, be gentle with his absolute clown self-neglect, try to meet him halfway; that trust will inspire him to be everything he thought he never could be for someone else. 

In the meantime:

One of the key signals when it comes to Leonardo is to pay attention to when he’s seeking to spoil her. If he’s being extra uwu, that’s a surefire sign he’s Coping™ by channeling those more negative feelings into making her happy. He thinks the best way to handle The Bad Feels and/or concern for her is to redirect that energy into something constructive, and what better outcome could there be than her pouting or giving him that dazzling smile of hers? 

Honestly, with Leonardo, he tends to convert emotion into action--she will know the warmth of his love long before he ever says it out loud. 

He has a hard time articulating his feelings, so asking him to say them outright might be hard on him--it might not be the best immediate go-to. Spoil him out of the blue, instead. She’ll seek him out and just sit in his lap and cuddle for a nap sessh completely without warning, hold him tight so that he knows she’s here no matter what. She’ll indulge his cute needy moments and lounge in bed all morning together, hold his hand first when they go out, take charge in the bedroom; she’ll show him he’s wanted and needed before he can even think to doubt himself. Murmur compliments to him, make him things he loves to eat, give him a back rub unprompted. It’s the simple awareness of what he enjoys and the execution of it before he can prepare that utterly decimates him into revealing the feelings he keeps under tight control. 

He is a lover that thrives on spontaneity and burning, silent consideration for the person he cherishes. The most adorable thing about this is that he is absolutely lost when the same tactic is used against him, he’s utterly defenseless to it!! (look at me. He has zero emotional object permanence. The mere prospect that somebody would worry about him first would send him into shock. And remember: the way people give love can often be the most powerful way they receive it, too.) The sacred texts!! She can use them to make him smile that smile that lets her know he’s an absolute goner for her without the need for words; the smile that says “it will always be you. It can only ever be you.”

When he’s happy, he literally just spoils her with more energy and teasing--expect a lot of wild fun and laughter when he’s in a good mood. He will have exceptionally tender moments now and again (say after a bad nightmare of losing her, for example) where he won’t say anything at all, just holds her close. He needs to know that she’s still here, that she’s okay. It is a rare and huge act of emotional trust; MC’s understanding and her easy proximity in these moments mean the world to him. When he’s distant and evasive, that is the time to give him some space before wedging her way inside. She won’t let him sit and stew in abysmal feelings; he has a bad habit of punishing himself too much or lingering on unhappy moments in his life. Despite how he seems he takes things incredibly seriously--to the point where he exhausts himself. 

When he’s jealous and feeling petulant, he will not hesitate bitch and will get surprisingly grumpy. She’ll coo at him and reassure him that he’s the only one for her, and he’ll calm in the circle of her arms. Fun bonus: he’ll be embarrassed/mortified about being out of control later and she has ENDLESS fun teasing him just a little, even better if he punishes her with a good bangarang. Anger and irritation are emotions he tends to leave be, but if someone directs any kind of threat to MC (or an innocent in general) every trace of his jovial nature dissolves in milliseconds. He is swift, decisive, and deadly when he’s belligerent; he is the last person to push too far. He will often regret it later or worry about scaring MC, but it really does only happen once in a great while. She always reassures him that she knows he only did what he felt he had to in the moment.

You can just hear the Leonardo stan in me, lord jesus

I = Injury (how would he react if she got hurt?)

OH GOD KILL ME FUCKING SOFTLY AUGHGHGHGHGGH

I think it would depend on the injury. If it’s something like a papercut or a scratch, he’ll just be like “yare yare cara mia, be a little more careful next time, yeah?” Will bandage her up and disinfect because he knows enough about medicine to be cautious. Plenty attentive, will probably tease her about being a klutz and/or tell her to ask for help next time. Everything you would expect from Leonardo, essentially; equal parts light-hearted and responsible.

NOW WE GONNA GET SPOICY

If the injury is much more intense--say a broken limb, or deep gashes, so on and so forth--I see Leonardo being very, very grim. His lips would be pursed into a firm line, blanched white from the pressure, and his first step would be to get her out of the danger at any cost to himself. Following his ability to get her to a safe place, he would begin to tend the wound as gently as possible, asking questions to gauge the severity with single-minded concentration. “Where does it hurt? Rate the pain, describe what it feels like. Can you move the injured limb?” He will use whatever he has at his disposal to minimize her suffering if he can’t get her to a doctor immediately. If she requires treatment from someone else, he will be beside himself the entire time; chain-smoking, pacing, running his hands through his hair nonstop. He has ants in his pants until he sees her with color in her face, eyes bright again.

May I offer: They are 100% that couple (in which Leonardo is the one that falls asleep at her bedside) that’s like “you look like shit.” “look who’s talking, stupid.” and they just start laughing, mutually relieved.

During her recovery, he will be incredibly gentle but also subliminally alert. Anything she needs, she gets. If she tries to return to a normal pace of life too fast, he is straight up just picking her up and putting her back in that recovery bed. He ain’t playin’--don’t test him on this. He’s usually pretty easygoing, but he will snap at anyone who isn’t careful with her in this state. He will not take any further risk to her life. (He’s not usually brittle, but under severe conditions he can be.) He’ll tease her from time to time, but it’s much more mild than usual; he’s too consumed with concern to let her get worked up. He’s never really had to deal with a prolonged state of physical helplessness personally, but he’s seen enough in his life to know it can be really taxing on a person’s mind. There will be a thin veneer of calm, only there to keep her relaxed and to ensure the stability of her mental health. He knows that if he shows too much distress, he’s only going to worry her further--and that’s the last thing he wants. He will spend the majority of his time acquiring as many distractions as humanly possible, even if he has to be the distraction; anything to get her mind off of darker things.

When she’s back to normal, he’ll still be on alert for a short while before he goes back to his usual clowning self; might be a little more protective and cautious than usual, or be a little paranoid about the specific thing that caused her harm. (No Leonardo, we need kitchen knives--how else are we going to cut the carrots?? Please relax.) He doesn’t want that kind of heart attack again anytime soon;;;;

Honestly, it’s very likely that MC will have to be the one to remind him that she’s fully recovered--and not quite so fragile--well after she’s returned to the normal pace of life.

K = Kisses (how does he like to kiss her?)

Mah heart, mah soul

When it comes to kisses, Leonardo will vary extensively. Will give her teasing pecks intended to make her grab hold of him and force him to linger, smirking into the kiss as she’s instigated to deepen it. When he’s feeling particularly overwhelmed with feeling--say when he’s jealous or frustrated--his kisses will be dizzying; sucking on her tongue and nipping at her lips, caging her against him as he unleashes all of the desire that was building inside him. The intent will be to drown her in passion. Lazy kisses before/after a nap, where he just wants to revel in the heat of her for a moment--express his affection on a whim--before dozing off. And last, but certainly not least, he will kiss her with the express intent of marking her. Due to his inability refusal to bite her, he seeks to relieve that instinct with hickeys all over her body (most frequently around the chest and neck, sometimes along her thighs and hips when he has fun downtown).

L = Love (how does he show her that he loves her?)

This man is Acts of Service through and through when it comes to showing his love. He is exceptionally observant and sensitive to the feelings of others, so the second he sees her in need he is already seeking an externalized solution. His usual modus operandi is to enact his love as covertly as possible; he doesn’t want her feeling guilty for troubling him. That being said, if he has to be direct--he will be. He won’t ever force her, but he will remind her that he is here and that he wants to help more than anything else. If she needs time on her own he’s happy to give it (even if he pouts and fidgets restlessly the whole time). His most acute expression of love is his reliability: taking care of people is the first way he knows how to express affection.

While that tends to be his primary method, it by no means insinuates that he won’t show affection in other ways. If he teases her, it’s because he wants her attention more than anything but is far too shy to say it directly (is he a middle schooler of a lover? Yes). More to the point, asking for her time and her attention is a way that he expresses love because it means he trusts her enough to know the signs, fulfill those needs, and realize that he meant no harm with his nonsense. Though it may sound odd, his desire to rely on her a little (insert is for me? meme) is his way of showing her he’s letting her in, and that’s a very real form of love considering how Herculean an effort it is for him to rely on someone else. It’s the same reason he will sometimes make his room an even bigger disaster zone than usual. He has every intention of cleaning up after himself, he just wants her to bust in and start fussing over him LMAO  (MC: WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS LEONARDO?! Meanwhile Leonardo, an idiot full of uwus at the sight of his beloved exasperated, sitting in a pile of trash: Just according to keikaku)

As odd as it may sound, it’s almost like a weird reverse damsel in distress sort of dynamic? He carefully constructs situations where she can offer him help with the express purpose (and hope) that she will care enough to bust past his enfeebled defenses. It’s so oddly demure for this enormous punk of a man, but I find it adorable ;-;

Other ways he loves to show how he feels is to take her on trips or on little adventures. One of his favorite things to do is to watch her take in places he knows like the back of his hand--or even places new to him--with all the gleeful excitement of a little kid. It just warms him down to the marrow, and makes him have so much more fun than he ever could alone to see her buzz around nonstop. If he can encourage her to relax and take some time for herself in the process, to live for herself a little (she’s all too giving) then he considers the entire endeavor a success. All the effort is worth it if she can remember their time together with a smile Must You Hurt Me Like This, Leonardo.

One form of love that he will behead me for revealing is that he also sketches her all the time in his notebook, and will look to those little moments he’s captured whenever he’s feeling down or she’s not around. 

He will have times where, if he can’t convey something properly with his actions or through making love, he will level with her. He will take the time to try to explain his feelings with accuracy, and in these moments he is both sincere and heartfelt. While it is a more rare expression of love for him, it is earth shattering when he does. Not only because his feelings run so deep, but also because these moments are unmistakably raw. Leonardo knows that vulnerability is a simultaneous boon and bane; it can inspire so much mutual joy, but it can also mean the exposure of lifelong wounds. It means acknowledging that these feelings are real. Even if she never takes advantage of the truth, he is aware of how precarious that position can be the more intense this love gets. It means facing how hollow he will feel when she's gone--something he works very, very hard to look away from.

(A related addendum because I have brainworms: The reason that people love and trust Leonardo is not primarily based in his intellect, fairly natural charisma, or good looks (though they are very compelling elements of his person). I think what people really see is how--though Leonardo sees through to the truth of peoples’ hearts in seconds--he keeps their secrets and treats them with so much respect/gentleness. It’s this odd capacity to be seen without feeling exposed that makes him such a remarkable and interesting man, and why he grows so close to everyone’s hearts. People feel understood without the need for words, feel cared for without a second thought. That being said, I think he needs someone who is similar. A person who sees all that he is on the surface, but barring that forges deeper still to find and cradle those parts of him that still need so much healing/care.

There’s a reason one of the greatest hits to his heart in his MS--one of the moments MC most powerfully gets through to him--is when she essentially says “Don’t give me that. Nobody ever gets used to loss. When something hurts, it hurts.” Whether she realized it or not, she penetrated straight to his heart with those few words. The truth is often much simpler than we might assume, and no matter how much experience one has with certain emotions--particularly grief and loneliness--no amount of experience makes them hurt any less. We only grow better at concealing or coping with age...)

N = Nightmare (what is his worst fear?)

I have a list (from Comte). I keep them alphabetized.

Jkjk, but if I’m honest I think this man has a good amount of fear inside him. I’d say the highest ones up there would absolutely be losing MC very suddenly, or being the reason--whether directly or indirectly--she gets hurt (like if his familia came after her to get back at him? he would be devastated).

If it is a timeline where he does choose to turn her, he’s beside himself at the prospect of the turning process going horribly wrong. It’s an unpredictable transition, and if she were to come back mentally broken or in constant pain (immortal wounds/aberrant) I think it would really fuck him up emotionally. He would blame himself without a doubt ;-; and that’s assuming she doesn’t hate his ass for the rest of eternity if it does go well (Leonardo I am begging you to use one brain cell)

O = Oddity (what is one quirk he has?) This one’s just a crack hc so if you were taking me seriously for any amt of this post, this is my suggestion that you stop

Leonardo is a man of many idiosyncrasies; among them an incapacity to dance and writing in a mirrored hand. 

Another one is his absolute hatred for mint. One of Comte’s favorite things to do to mess with Leonardo is to stuff the drawers in his desk with peppermint candies to ward off his old friend and make him stop sleeping under his desk (like how people will use salt for demons!). He will also drink mint tea if he’s feeling particularly irritated with Leonardo’s antics, like if he’s received a ton of letters from Leonardo’s familia. Tells him to come to his office and the place is SUFFUSED in the scent of mint. Comte is just sitting at his desk with the stack, wearing that incorrigible look like “If I must suffer, so must you.” 

One time--before MC was aware of this quirk--she had some chocolate that had mint in it after dinner. Leonardo kissed her without knowing (he came in late) and literally died where he was standing; he was biting his tongue to keep from gagging. MC just o: ???? because she’s never seen him make that grimace, especially after sharing a kiss. Comte was in fucking tears laughing at the head of the dining table while Napoleon and Sebastian were both fighting a smile--Arthur was outright wheezing. Isaac, blushing and coughing lightly into his fist, offers the explanation that Leonardo hates mint-flavored things and the scent of it makes him queasy. 

W = Warrior (how does he feel about her fighting? Would he fight for her, beside her, etc?)

Man, this one’s tough, but if I’m honest I think he would be conflicted. On the one hand, he thinks it’s badass and hot as all fuck that she knows how to hold her own in a brawl; he can’t deny it’s sexy and reassuring (he has to resist the urge to gaud her into punching him). But. That knowledge also comes with a lot of concern. Was she in a place or around people that never once looked after her? Or was it a safety precaution? He will think deeply about the implications of her capabilities, and ask about it openly if he can’t deduce the reasons from afar. He will see it as very important information in regards to how to look after her properly.

That being said, I don’t think he would let his MC fight unless there was literally no other conceivable choice (say she was attacked while he wasn’t there or before he could intercept the blow). He would literally rather fall on a sword than see her get hurt. He’s durable and used to pain; he’d rather suffer and heal fast than see her sustain a single scar or bruise. Even if it makes her angry, he’ll take a hit and ask her to stay behind him every single time without fail. He’ll accept her frustration about it and will feel that it is perfectly valid to be annoyed with him. It still won’t make him budge, though. 

Z = Zen (what makes him feel calm?)

Naps and lingering in bed well after morning with MC make this man happier and calmer than anything this world has ever seen. He loves that in those moments they aren’t thinking about anything else but each other, and he can indulge in the certainty of her presence in his life and so close to his heart. He can use the excuse of drowsiness to be tender, making love with a slow, devastating build to pleasure--hand entwined with hers against the sheets. 

Failing that, he goes to things that stimulate his senses to find calm--he can’t really relax if his hands and/or mind aren’t occupied (i.e. cigarillos lmao). It’s why he’s often in the library; he’s always seeking new information and conundrums to sort out mentally if he doesn’t have the energy to go out and about. If he’s in his room he’ll be drafting diagrams, coming up with new concepts and architectural schematics, even making trinkets for MC or fixing something in the mansion. If he needs a change of scene or has the spoons, he’ll make a trip to town to help people with any problems that need solving, or find some excuse to go looking for and tease MC HAHA (he’s a little shit, but he’s our little shit úwù)

[tyrannoninja]

Arrows of Alodia

Japan, 1500 AD

The walls of the castle glowed pale yellow before the face of the setting sun, with blue shingles sparkling on stacks of curved roofs. This radiance conferred the semblance of a tall gold crown encrusted with lapis-lazuli gems. The castle sat atop a wooded hill, overlooking the fields, forests, and scattered peasants’ villages like an emperor surveying his rural domain.

A young woman hiked a series of stone steps that zigzagged up the hill’s northern slope, cradling in a yew chest her arms. Her hooded waist-length kimono and trousers, both dull green like the trees sheltering the path, protected her both from the evening’s damp chill and from any eyes spying on her. Not that the woman had noticed anyone giving her a second glance so far, but nobody in her line of work could afford to let their guard down.

She reached the summit of the hill, strolled across the short bridge over the castle’s moat, and paused to gaze over the sprawling countryside. The verdant beauty of the Japanese landscape would never leave her eyes entirely, yet years of experience had scraped away much of its allure. She knew that underneath its lush and tranquil veneer lay a cutthroat and lawless world of cruelty and treachery.

This would be her last evening in the land. The next day, she would set sail for civilization.

Among the irregular mass of rocks building up the castle’s base was a rectangular slab, as tall and wide as a man. The woman inserted her fingers along its edge and pushed it aside as if it were a regular sliding door. Ahead ran a narrow corridor lit with paper lanterns hanging from the ceiling, a small courtesy she had not expected.

Underneath the more pleasing scent of the cherry blossoms, the stink of dead flesh leaked through the chest’s lid. The woman hugged it against her breast, a queasy nausea swelling in her stomach. Grisly as the odor was, it was only part of the price she had to pay for her upcoming escape.

She followed the passageway through the base until it led into a series of rooms, the walls built of white paper with wooden frames, a building material she had always thought strange. Back in her native Alodia, along the Nile to the south of Egypt, people built almost everything from sturdier materials such as mudbrick or stone. For a race that constantly warred with their own, the Japanese could have stood to fortify the interiors of their homes better.

After sliding open a succession of paper doors, the woman found the Daimyo Takeshi awaiting her in his study. She greeted him with a bow of her head while laying the chest before the tatami mat he sat on.

“I see you already had the way in lighted for me, my lord,” the woman said. She pulled down her hood to reveal her dark brown face and braided black hair. “Very kind of you.”

“I have good timing.” The old Daimyo croaked a chuckle as he laid his hands on the chest. “I trust this is Hiroshi himself?”

The woman nodded as she unslung her bow and quiver. “I took him out in the dead of night. Nobody suspected a single thing. Suffice to say he won’t trouble you anymore.”

Takeshi pried the chest open, releasing the stench of its contents in a full wave. Inside lay the half-rotten head of Hiroshi, once his vassal. The Daimyo’s cackling made the woman feel even more sick than the morbid object.

“Excellent work, Maia of Alodia,” he said. “I see you more than deserve your reputation.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice, my lord.”

Maia glanced around the study for a bag of coins, yet she could find none. The only gold she detected in the room was the paint on some serpentine dragon illustrations on the walls. “Now, where is my payment?”

The Daimyo’s smile vanished. He pulled a curved scabbard from his belt and slid out the katana sword within. “You didn’t really think I would let you go with my vassal’s blood on your hands, did you?”

Maia’s pulse kicked into a thumping panic. She held her bow close to her. “Why not? None of the other daimyo I’ve served had a problem with that.”

“Then they were fools. Think, Alodian, of what would happen were you around to blurt out the truth, in whatever circumstance. The world would know I was behind this all, and I’d have even more insolent subjects to contend with than before!”

“Then perhaps you shouldn’t pay anyone to take out your critics, O Daimyo.”

Takeshi stood and drew back his sword, his once pale yellow-brown face flaming red. “Unless I can take you out in turn!”

Maia ducked beneath the slicing sweep of his katana, dodging it by less than an inch. She hopped across the room and swung her bow at him as if it were a sword. Its bottom tip slashed across the back of the Daimyo’s blue silken vest. Despite not drawing blood, he fell over with a yelp and a groan, his sword flying out of his grip and rolling over the floor until Maia picked it up.

Maia strutted over to where he lay and pressed the tip of his katana into the nape of his neck. “I could easily kill you as I killed your vassal, Daimyo Takeshi. But I’ll give you one more chance than you gave him. Pay me the gold you promised, and I’ll leave your hide unscratched.”

“Never!” Takeshi swept his arm aside and banged into Maia’s ankle, tripping her. He snatched his sword back in a springing leap. “I still have tracks to cover up.”

After wheeling away from his next few attacks, the Alodian shot her foot into his shin. He growled a hideous curse and repaid the blow by slashing across her hip.

The cut burned hot through the flesh of her leg. Her rage blazed so much hotter that it drowned out all pain.

Again the Daimyo charged, brandishing his blade with a bloodthirsty roar. Maia sidestepped and swatted him in the skull from behind, throwing him across the room until he crashed through the wall, tore through the paper and splintered the framing. From a leather sheath under her belt, she grabbed a curved dagger and flung it into his spine. After one last guttural croak, the Daimyo Takeshi lay without movement other than the blood flowing out of his wounds.

Signing a cross into the air, Maia whispered a prayer that her God show mercy on the poor sinner’s soul.

“How could you?”

A young woman in a scarlet kimono burst into the study, her hair tousled and her face wet with tears. She knelt sobbing by the Daimyo’s body.

“I’m sorry, was he your father?” Maia asked. She lowered her hand to touch the other woman’s shoulder in consolation.

“No! I was his beloved wife, Ichiko.” The Japanese girl slapped the Alodian away and tore the katana out of her fallen husband’s grip. “Now you will pay for your crime, barbarian bitch!”

Yanking the dagger out of Takeshi, Maia thrust it to parry Ichiko. Sparks erupted from the clashing of blades until the Alodian’s smaller weapon broke in half. She lunged to stab her opponent’s thigh, but Ichiko kicked her into the room’s opposite wall.

Maia had carried half her dagger, and the Daimyo’s widow showed just as much agility. Maia carried only one weapon that would give her any advantage in the fight.: the one she had used on the vassal Hiroshi.

What she needed was more space between she and her target.

After chucking a stick of shattered wood into Ichiko’s face, Maia scrambled to retrieve her bow and quiver. She hurled herself through the hole, over the Daimyo Takeshi’s body. She had an arrow drawn the instant Ichiko launched herself into the air, katana raised overhead for a downward cleave.

Maia fired. Ichiko fell in mid-arc onto Takeshi, the arrow through her heart seeming to pin her onto her husband’s corpse, uniting them in death as in life. It was a bittersweet way for them to go, Maia admitted to herself.

Through her labored breathing, she heard the shrill wailing of an infant.

Hurrying out of the study, the Alodian stumbled into a room, where three flat cushions rested like low beds on the floor. The first two were adult-sized, for the Daimyo and his wife. The third was only big enough to support the naked, wailing baby that lay curled into a ball on it, bawling with frightened distress.

Throughout her career, Maia of Alodia had taken many lives. Some were daimyo rival to the ones who paid her, whereas others were insubordinate vassals like the one she had taken at Takeshi’s behest. Still others had been guards and soldiers she fended off when her missions went sour. It was her way of earning what she needed to survive in a ruthless country. Never had she imagined she would feel guilt or remorse, until she saw the tears glistening on the baby’s face.

He had no mother or father anymore. No one left to comfort or protect him. Instead, he lost them to the cold bite of steel, much as Maia had lost her own mother and father when she was a girl. This time, though, Maia’s own steel had robbed him of his family.

She could not leave him there. Either he would die young in this merciless land or would grow up forever ablaze with hatred for her and perhaps all the people of Alodia. Maia could not blame him one bit for that.

She had to make it up to him, to give him what she had taken from him.

Maia picked up the baby in a firm embrace, murmuring soft words to soothe him. “I shall name you Isaac, sweet one. Don’t cry, you shall be safe with me.”

##

The castle of the late Daimyo Takeshi, once a brilliant pale yellow, turned a luminous white before the moon and stars. Down the hillside steps Maia descended, holding the sleeping Isaac under one arm while hauling the yew chest in the other. Instead of a human head rolling within it, the chest now jingled with plundered gold coins, more than enough to buy Maia a sailing trip away from this beautiful yet deadly land.

Where could she go next? She didn’t know. Her family had fled Alodia when it fell under attack by the Muslim Funj, and doubtless they would have taken the kingdom over and replaced its Christian religion with their own. Perhaps Ethiopia, another African kingdom still faithful to the same God as Alodia, would offer sanctuary. Or maybe Maia could sate her appetite for adventure elsewhere in the East, perhaps the jungle kingdoms to the south or the steppes to the north. Even the empire of China might hold promise, as they enjoyed more unity than the Japanese.

Wherever Maia went, she would carry Isaac with him. She would nurse him, raise him as her own, and teach him how to shoot arrows like a true Alodian.

This and other short stories can be read in my self-published collection Beasts & Beauties.

[grisdidthis]

CHAPTER ONE: FIRST SIGHT

AKA, blessed fucknuggets, why do these fools feel the need to put themselves through high school, my sources tell me that the US school system isn’t all that to begin with, what gives?

PREVIOUS ENTRIES

(Warning: this got long. Looooong. Hence, cut, so that I don’t murder your dash like Edward doesn’t murder Bella in this chapter.)

Welcome to the first entry of a live-read that no one asked for, in which I’ll go through the first chapter of Midnight Sun, i.e. a retelling of the first Twilight book from Edward Cullen’s POV. Not to be confused with Grey, a retelling of the first volume of a Twilight fanfic with the serial numbers filed off, or the Life and Death edition, a retelling of the first Twilight book in which Bella Swan is genderbent into a dude called Beau, who utters the immortal line “I knew I must look like a gorilla on a greyhound.” Which still tickles my humerus to this day.

I’ve waited for this novel to drop so long that at some point I’d stopped waiting. If by some freaky turn of chance you stumbled on this without knowing about the hoopla surrounding the publication, here’s a Wikipedia link. The gist is that the first few chapters of the WIP got leaked, the author got upset, the book got shelved until ??? and no further information about it was forthcoming until a while ago, when out of the blue arrive the news that it’s getting released in August.

My first thought was “Oh, yay, something actually NICE is happening this year!”

My second thought was “Please let it be good, so that I can laugh outrageously at [name redacted] for mocking my enjoyment of this series!” And. Look. I know what’s said about Twilight with regards to its literary merit and Stephenie Meyer’s abilities as a writer. A lot of it is admittedly accurate. However, the metrics by which I measure the value of a book are a) did it entertain me? and b) did I gain anything by having read it? And yeah, those are personal and subjective items, but objectivity is a lie, Jesus enjoys using toasters to take selfies, and if ten years ago I hadn’t been looking for a place to post my 50k+ epic Renesmee-centric fanfic, I wouldn’t have met the people who are currently my best friends.

Which is to say: I’m too attached to this series to give a fig what color the prose is. Deal.

And yet. Me hoping that Midnight Sun would be good, in a way that people who don’t have my level of emotional investment might acknowledge, wasn’t… that farfetched?  Because the last book Meyer released before this one, The Chemist? Is an improvement on all her previous work. A huge improvement! It’s competently written! The characters read like they were intended to be flawed, messy people.

The main romance isn’t the kind of fucked up that Bella and Edward’s is, where you can pen treatises on why they’re omg so unhealthy. It’s the kind of fucked up where five seconds after meeting her love interest, the protagonist drugs him unconscious, kidnaps him, sticks a urinary catheter up his ding dong, straps him to a table and tortures him for information until the guy’s ex-CIA identical twin drops a plane on the barn they’re in and crashes through the ceiling all “HANDS OFF MY BABY BROTHER YOU DISCOUNT MATA HARI!”

Then they all make friends and go on a road trip together because a shady government organization is after them.

That’s not a fucked-up relationship that you write an essay analyzing the fucked-up-ness of. It’s something you stare at, stunned and, if you’re me, torn between thinking “Holy shit, this is so my brand of heroine!!!” and “How much crack was Auntie Steph on when she wrote this?” And it’s beautiful. I want ten more like it. So my hopes for Midnight Sun are tempered by the knowledge that, being a retelling of an established narrative, it can’t go all-out with the batshit. But I’m still optimistic that some part of it will give me that warm “Awww, you’ve come a long way from where we first met, author! Good on you!” feeling.

Now let’s (finally!) get started on the chapter proper.

…oh wait there’s an author’s note.

…uhm. Yeah. My dreams. About those. *fixed stare at faraway bonfire* Actually, let’s not talk about those and just move on to Edward Not Liking High School, thank you. Yeah. That’s good.

Edward Cullen doesn’t like high school. Edward doesn’t like that people think. Edward doesn’t like that the human student body is beside itself with the arrival of some new chick. Edward thinks his adopted siblings are super basic. (Rosalie = shallow, Emmett = simple, Jasper = psycho two seconds away from jumping off his chair and going on a rampage.) We don’t get to hear his utterly unbiased assessment of Alice, because she butts in and starts a one-sided telepathic convo about how Jasper is two seconds away from jumping off his chair and going on a rampage. You know. Normal sibling stuff.

WHY DO YOU PUT YOURSELF THROUGH THIS HASSLE, WHY!

(Let me take this opportunity to share my pet crack theory that Carlisle Cullen is secretly the most twisted, evil vampire in all of vampiredom, and that the sending the young ones to high school bit is something he does solely because he gets his evil fix by feasting on the emotional toil it inflicts on them. Also why he’s a doctor; he can ignore the call of blood, because being surrounded by the pain of patients and their loved ones already keeps him fed. I mean. He was chilling with the Volturi way back when, and Aro gives off a handsy vibe. No way he didn’t get his mind read in every which way, and if that happened - if he were reaaaalllyyyyy that nice, why would he still ping them as a threat of any kind?)

(This has holes in it, I know. And clashes with my other pet crack theory, which posits that the whole immortal child/Let’s Catch Them All: Cullen Edition was in fact the fallout of a Very Bad Italian Breakup, with Aro being the pissy ex who wants sole custody of the kids.)

Whatever. It still makes more sense than them going through “the inert state between active periods” when. My dudes! College is right there. Some places you can even sit out 90% of lectures and still get your diploma if you don’t feel like faking one, so Jasper would be all set! And you can pick different subjects! Diversify! Why must it always be med school rehashes, there are other worthy professions! And whole fields that are useless for getting-a-job purposes, but still interesting and enriching for those who have the luxury to pursue them. Let Emmett do Viking Studies, for fuck’s sake!

This amuses me much more than it rightfully should. I’m a child.

The Cullen clan tries to pep talk Jasper into not getting his murder on. Jasper is like OMG WILL YOU GUYS LAY OFF, while Edward is busy doing his judgy Edward thing and thinking to himself that Jasper should accept his limitations, that it’s a bad idea to have him at school at all, blah blah bleh, and you know what, I’m with you there, Ed.

Although we all know that this is just setup for the irony that will ensue as soon as Bella the Delicious klutzes her way into his line of smell.

Oh yah! Enter Bella. Edward can’t hear her thoughts. Jessica Stanley is a b-word. Edward wonders whether not being able to butt into the new girl’s head may be a red flag for vampire Alzheimer. Biology class next! The teacher is a man “of no more than average intellect” and, lord. It’s lucky that Edward is the mind reader in the family, because imagine if it were one of the others and they had to put up with listening to him bitch about the world at large, nonstop, at all hours of the day. And night, since these guys don’t sleep. Angela Webber is the only soul in the whole school whose thoughts have the Edward Cullen seal of approval. I feel sorry for her. I also feel this weird sense of hey, this all seems familiar in senses other than being a retelling, have I been here before?

Wait.

WAAAIIIIIITEEEEE.

*googles for the old version*

*runs first chapters through copyleaks*

*kubrick stare* MEYER, YOU LAZY SO AND SO, HOW COULD YOU!

*slams head on desk*

Well. At least I know what I’m in for. HONESTLY! It’s been. It’s been THIS MANY YEARS since the leaked version appeared, and that was a first draft, how in the… she’s way better than this, now! Was this novel produced in a terminal state of $#%CARING#NOT?&FOUND?! Is half of it just going to be the same old thing with a thin veneer of polish? I’m.

*sigh* You know what, I’m okay. We’re just going to call this first part a re-read. It’s been ten years, so I remember not a whole lot of the specifics, so at least I won’t be bored. BUT COME CHAPTER 13 I EXPECT TO BE SWEPT OFF MY FEET, DO YOU HEAR ME?!

Biology. Bella walks in right past a fan and gives Edward a throbbing throat boner. How awkward. Then she goes and sits right next to him and saucily tosses her hair around like he’s not actively plotting her murder and that of the rest of the class. The cheek of the thing!

Fortunately, Bella’s tasty ass is momentarily saved by a stiff breeze.

…I think we may have found the solution to Jasper’s control issues. The Cullens just need to start carrying air freshener around and spray the murder out of him every time he starts looking peckish. It would look weird if anyone else did it, but since they’re all pretty and rich, it’s more likely that the trend will catch on and cause Febreze sales to skyrocket.

Anyway. We’re not done victim-blaming Bella for…

…at least another couple of pages, but at least Edward gets his head out of his ass long enough to recall that hey, vampire! Oxygen is optional! But he still spends another lot of words grumbling about what a hassle it is to be forced to hold his breath in order to dampen his murderous urges. This is why you are a virgin, Edward. No, I don’t mean the planning the assassination a classmate’s assassination, plenty of serial killers still manage to get laid heaps, consensually, even! It’s the fact that you’re this much of a buzzkill that’s the issue.

Live, laugh, love, you dumbass disco ball!

Yep, he’s still on about how he’s going to kill her, totes kill her, he feral dangerous vampire, rawr. The miracle of adequate indoor airflow only got him to railroad a quartet of brain cells into thinking up smarter ways of snuffing Bella out. Now he wants to lure her to the forest. No, he’s going to kill her at home! He hates her! No, he hates himself and is projecting!

So he flees to his car, plays some calming music, breathes in and out and thinks about his family and how disappointed they’d be in him if he were to help himself to a Swan shake. Well, I’m nobody to shit talk anyone’s self-soothing routine. I’d probably throw in a truck of food + a bath, but he’s had 100+ years to figure out what coping mechanisms work for him, so let’s just let him do his-

Edward.

EDWARD.

…do you actually think this is an appropriate time to start a ginger-off with some random desk lady? Yes, we know you’re the One True Redhead To Rule Them All. (Though Kvothe from Name of the Wind may beg to differ, and I don’t know who would win that fight.) I mean, really? You pull this crap when you just barely talked yourself out of a murder? And then you call her eyes flat! What!

One of my favorite comic book series, Y the Last Man, features a scene where two characters discuss what it is that truly binds people together. One of them presents the argument that stronger bonds are formed not by shared love, but by shared hates. By which they mean not a kiss-kiss-slap-slap, enemies-to-lovers relationship dynamic, but like… you, being someone who really hates coleslaw, having a partner who likewise hates coleslaw, with whom you can indulge in tireless verbal roastings of coleslaw and who will never get tired of your complaining, because the fire of their loathing burns every bit as hot as yours.

I’ve always felt that this concept resonated with me deeply. And if you apply it to Bella and Edward, by its standards, they have the real deal. Go through the namesake chapter in Twilight-the-book, and you find Bella thinking similarly judgy thoughts, being irked by the same shit that no one normal would bat an eye to, going “Ugh!” and “Gah!” at everything that makes Edward wince internally. So their love will be eternal for sure. Perhaps not in an epic way. They’ll live boringly ever after, until they’re ancient and onion-skinned and lurking at passerby humans through the geraniums on their windowsill, exchanging “Holy crow, I can’t believe she bought a hydrogen engine car just to show off!” / “Awful! She should know that thinning the deer population so that they produce less flatulence is the most sound way of controlling toxic emissions!” And then probably gazing at one another like idiots for an ice age or two.

Edward wants to be moved out of Biology class. Goes back and forth with the desk lady, who obviously wants to tap that, because of course she does. Every hot-blooded woman within spitting distance must crave his alluring icicle, even as he mentally eviscerates every minuscule detail of their appearance.

Except Bella, because she’s soft, translucent, deep-eyed and edible. And, I mean. You can complain all you want about “you’re different from anyone else I’ve ever met, you’re SPECIAL, better, more beautiful, more everything!” being a dead horse of a trope so old and beaten that by all rights it should have turned to smelly glue, but. That pony is still kicking. And by kicking, I mean selling. And it sells because being made to feel special, even if it’s happening by proxy while you’re immersed into the thoughts of a fictional character, is nice. Readers enjoying that experience and seeking out fiction that provides it shouldn’t be considered so… mock-worthy as I’ve seen it be, in discussion of works that feature the trope prominently.

Which doesn’t mean that it wouldn’t be nicer if Edward’s narration were focused solely on elevating Bella, instead of also viciously kicking down everyone in the vicinity. Man, we get the message, okay? You don’t need to act like you’ve swallowed a Simon Cowell before coming in for school.

I swear, it’s almost a relief when Bella interrupts, heralding the triumphant return of the throat boner. Edward’s thoughts about the people around him are actually LESS gratuitously bitchy when he’s contemplating how to best murder them.

At least this time he is able to extract himself from the situation and flee speedily. (Which… in Biology, what exactly was preventing him from asking for a bathroom break? Or just saying he was feeling poorly and getting the fuck out of there?)

He meets the sibs. Only Alice has any clue of what is going on because visions, and she doesn’t explain anything to the others, who just stand there baffled while Edward decides to get his shiny ass in his shiny Volvo and run off to Alaska. Probably because it would ruin the serious mood of the scene if she told them and Jasper started doing happy cartwheels at the prospect of no longer being the only fuckup in the family.

END CHAPTER. Same time tomorrow, hopefully, and I’ll TRY to be less longwinded. Try. 

[crowsent]

Reaper At The Gates

Full disclosure, this book has 458 pages and I kinda cried on page 448 so this may or may not make sense because I am FUCKED UP right now. Page 448 has no goddamn diddly fucking RIGHT to be that emotional and Page 449 is fucking CRUEL. The page header. The fucking PAGE HEADER telling me which goddamn POV the chapter is in made my heart SAD and that shit should be illegal. Chapter LVIII had no fucking RIGHT and I’m suing for emotional trauma.

I am crying in the goddamn club right now. I am inundating this club with my tears and bringing about the second great flood because THIS FUCKING BOOK.

If you’ve been with me for ANY amount of time, you already know about this book because I started this book in the goddamn SUMMER of 2K19 and I only just finished today, on the day of our lord, February 10th 20 FUCKING 20. Took me a goddamn year to read this book and honestly?

Honestly I should have fucking finished this book earlier because HOLY SHIT.

The book is a rollercoaster that I got shoved on without a seatbelt or something to hold onto, then subsequently yeeted into a sea of emotions that hit me on the head like a fucking WARHAMMER. The author, Sabaa Tahir, is a goddamn sorceress. Her words are twists and turns and it is all I can do to hold on.

With every fibre of my being, from the pull of my muscles to the creaking of my very bones, I wish so so desperately to have copies of the first two books so I can experience them again. So I can start the journey all over again. So that when I read this FUCKING BOOK, everything is fresh on my mind.

It’s the third book in the Ember In The Ashes series and when I say that I am shooketh. This book swung for my goddamn kneecaps and went for my jugular.

It is painful.

Let me say this right fucking now that it is PAINFUL. The imagery is beautiful and brutal. The sentences are skillfully crafted knives that are thrown at me with precision. It is a thunderstorm that has long since been spotted but has yet to strike. Anticipation builds and builds and builds until you feel like you’re going to crack under the pressure. And then the storm comes. And you break.

This book is fucking painful. Characters I’ve loved, characters I saw laughing, crying, howling with hurt, characters that I’ve grown attached to, are subjected to so many things that I can’t help but feel for them. They are clay, Tahir is the sculptor, and I am the poor fool watching them get broken down to be molded again, hoping desperately that this time, this time, they’ll be fine.

It’s fucking painful.

And beautiful.

Because this book is a goddamn thunderstorm, and it finally struck. It set fires that burned down trees and houses, but lit up a dark night. These characters grow so much and I grow with them. My mind is constantly thinking with every page I turned, trying to find some comfort when the book offered me pain, trying to find the wounds when I am offered mercy.

The plot is strong. The characters are stronger. All three of the main leads are thoughtfully crafted. You can see into their minds when they speak. You can feel every beat of their heart when they act. You can hear their goddamn fucking souls crying out with every atrocity they face and witness and commit. And the villain? I pity him. I pity him and hate him and love him. The villain is not a force of pure evil. The villain is broken. And some part of me wants him to win. The side characters are no slouch either. That small snippet of Alistar made my breath hitch and my heart harden. And Alistar is one of the lesser side characters, not as prominent as Harper or Dex, but he was there and I was not okay. And Keris. Just. Keris.

And the best part is that ALL of the characters change. They grow, for better or worse.

I don’t think it’s for everyone because of its kind of sensitive content. War. Slavery. The brutality of mankind on full display. Pain and pain and pain with nothing to show for it. Failure and sadness and betrayal. Hurt that runs so deep it colours the soul. But if you can handle that kind of content, read it.

You kind of have to read the first two books, but the third one is worth it. The first two books are good, but this one is visceral. I felt empty when I finished, and I felt different when I finished. Not in any kind of profound way, mind you. This book didn’t change my life or anything, but it did change me.

It made me think of things a little bit too deep for my usual shitposting fuckall veneer. It made me think of life and death, of duty and sacrifice, of pain and love and of people. Not everyone is black and white. Even the darkest of souls, the most monstrous of monsters, the most ruthless, heartless, cruel, vicious beasts have some good in them. They can love and they can mourn. They can fight to the death for what they believe in. And even the kindest people, the ones with bright smiles and gentle hands, the ones who are sunlight on a dark day, can be capable of wickedness.

I don’t think about the duality of man that often. By that I mean never. On a subconscious, hidden part of me, I know that mankind is never black and white. Everyone is grey. Someone who hated you so deeply can love someone so much it aches. Someone you would bring the stars down for could be a hideous sinful creature. And this book brought that to the surface. It made me LOOK.

The series was always a little dark, but I underestimated how deep this cesspool of emotions ran. The line “Skies save me from the men in my life and all the things they think they know” did not, in any way, reveal just how much of a painful, beautiful, vicious thing this book was.

The prophecies made me wrack my head for an answer. And just when I think I have it in my grasp, something else gets revealed. “When the Butcher bows to the deepest love of all.” A love for kinsmen, for the Butcher’s people, for the Butcher’s family. And the Ghost? “The Ghost will fall, her flesh will wither.” When the meaning, the TRUE meaning of that line got revealed, I lost my shit. This book yall. This fucking book.

My only major gripe about it is how much it used the word “bleeding” as a swear word. Y’all call Keris “piece of shit human being” Veturia the Bitch of Blackcliff but y’all won’t let Laia of Serra say the word fuck? Okay. But we ain’t talking about that.

Fourth book is coming and boy fucking howdy I was not prepared for how much I want it. I want it so much I can’t put it into words. What I can put into words, somewhat, is how much I feel for THAT scene. You know. THAT scene. Spoilers for the three things that destroyed me the most emotionally below

What we are talking about, is Helene Aquilla. She deserved none of the shit that happened to her. My beautiful, beautiful daughter deserved none of the pain, none of the suffering, none of the tears and the worry and the strife she was given. My daughter deserves to be HAPPY goddammit. And what? First you subject her to emotional trauma by having Marcus torture her sister over and over. You poison Livvy and subject Helene to a terror so visceral and vicious that she blames herself for putting Livvy in danger even though it wasn’t her fault? You tease the Harper thing but then you take it away from her. Just like you take everything away from her.

How fucking dareth????? Helene deserves more than that??? Like the Harper/Helene ship has set sail and docked in the empty harbour of my heart. Their interactions are so goddamn GOOD and then you take everything away just like that. They kiss near the end of the book and all of a sudden, it’s gone. It’s nothing.

That moment in Navium? Where Helene was almost killed but saved at the last and final moment? The scene where Harper urges Helene to trust him, to let him carry some of her burdens, to allow Harper to see part of her. “Needing protection is not a weakness. Refusing to trust your allies is.” That quote ripped me the fuck apart. And I think it was this moment that the Helene/Harper ship truly and irrevocably burrowed within me. I will not let this go. I will, and I do not say this lightly, go down with this fucking ship. Even if it burns and drops into the bottom of the ocean as nothing but wasted wood, I will go down with this fucking ship because BRUH.

And Laia of Serra? First you have her captured. Then you have her see her people beaten over and over again. Then, and fucking THEN you have her discover her mother’s identity and the violence her mother has committed right before her meeting with Cook? You fucking do that shit?????? HELLO?????

That reveal destroyed me. Cook has been with us since the first book. She was something familiar. Amidst all the chaos and suffering, cook was the one single constant in the book. No matter how much the scene changed, or how the plot shifted, Cook was always there. Always present. And we learn that she is Laia’s mother. And THEN she fucking dies. And Laia has to live the rest of her life knowing that her mother had been so close to her, and she never noticed. Knowing that her mother died to protect her. Like nani the fucko was up with that??????

But you know what really hurts about Cook? What really hammers the rusty nail of pain inside my long-dead heart?

It’s the stutter.

For some goddamn fucking reason, when Cook said “You’re just like your f-f-f-fath-” I FELT that. Some part of me recoiled. I wanted to put the book down. Because while I knew that she killed her daughter and husband, I never had to actually KNOW that she killed her daughter and husband. That scene was impersonal. That scene was much like how Mirra of Serra snapped the necks of the people she loved. Quick. Painless. I did not know that she killed her daughter and husband because when that scene happened, Mirra of Serra was just putting them to sleep. But then she stuttered. “L-L-L-L-Lis.” “F-fath-fath” And she can’t say it. Because their deaths haunt them.

Because she killed them.

That was the moment it sank in for me. She is not Mirra of Serra. She is Cook. Because Mirra of Serra died with Lis. Because Mirra of Serra died with her husband. Because Mirra of Serra died long ago and this was the moment I realised it. “Curse this world for what it does to the mothers, for what it does to the daughters,” Helene said. I fucking agree. Out of everyone in the cast, the world took the most from Cook. I will never get over that.

But you know the one thing that really destroyed me? The one thing that made me realise that this book IS merciless and this book WILL shoot for a killing blow?

LVIII

The penultimate chapter.

The bitch of a chapter that took what’s left of my heart, raw and bleeding from the miraculous escape and alliance in the previous chapter, and just shattered it. It squeezed my raw, vulnerable, bleeding heart until it was nothing but dust.

Look at the chapter title.

LVIII: The Soul Catcher

Not Elias. The Soul Catcher.

He’s not Elias anymore.

Elias is gone.

He’s just the Soul Catcher now.

[rhymesswith]

Chapter 1 scene 6

TYRION

The royal chambers of the Red Keep are lavishly appointed with every luxury the royal family could ever desire. Inside, all appears tranquil until one looks too closely at the way the mid-morning light is filtering through a haze of slowly undulating smoke. Cersei stands in front of a tall window facing out to look over the city. Below, two armies clash in violent conflict, one clearly overrunning the other as the streets fill with bodies. The walls of the city burn, and in the bay beyond the last of the iron fleet sinks, smouldering, into the ocean. 

The door to the chamber opens with a groan. Cersei barely registers having heard it, not bothering to turn away from the window. She merely speaks, in a measured way that one might use to comment on the weather. “Lord Gregor is dead than, I presume?”

The intruder is her brother, Tyrion Lannister the imp. He has clearly had to fight to get here, the blood of others and from the numerous wounds to his chest and arms staining his clothes. The pin on his chest still gleams bright. He’s holding a sword that is too large for him. He stares at her with eyes that have seen horrors. That…thing back there, that had taken so long to die, had not been Gregor Clegane for a very long time. He doesn’t answer the question, which is answer enough.

Cersei doesn’t spare a second to mourn her man, her attention never wavering from the scene outside. “Are you here to kill me?” She asks in the same casual tone. “First mother, then father. Joffrey. Myrcella. Now me. You will not rest until you’ve destroyed my entire family will you?”

Tyrion steps farther into the room, a perplexed frown now creasing his features. “I didn’t kill your son. Olanna Tyrell confessed, remember? I know you know this by now. Cersei-“

“ALL I know,” She snaps, something tight creeping into her voice, “Is that from the moment you entered this world, all you have done is take and take and TAKE!” Her voice rises with each word, echoing off the stones. Upon closer inspection she is not as unruffled as she’d first appeared, her poise is a thin veneer and it’s cracking. “You have taken everything from me. You sent Myrcella to Dorne. You brought the Tyrells into our city. You took Jaime, with your poisonous words. And now you are taking my kingdom, for your bitch queen. I should have killed you long ago. I should have killed you and now you’re here to kill me.”

He takes another step. She turns her head and bares her teeth in a feral grimace. “STAY BACK!”

Tyrion raises his hands in appeasement, his voice adopting the pitch of one coaxing a wild animal. “I swear I am not here to harm you. I never wanted this, please believe me. I never wanted you to hurt like this. I loved your children, I loved our family, every day I ache for what’s happened to us. I’m sorry for what you’ve gone through and for what parts I’ve played. I want to make it right, please.” He makes a show of slowly lowering his sword to the ground, and sliding it away. “Let me help you.”

She shakes her head, disbelieving. “Help me,” half chuckle, half choking. Down below a great black dragon soars, circling the perimeter of the city to land upon one of the crumbling walls. Even over the great distance it seems to turn its horned head in her direction, and she imagines she feels its eyes like burning embers. “You can’t help me. Your queen is here, she is at my door. Don’t you think I know how badly she wants me to burn? And you dare to come here, wearing her hand?”

Tyrion’s hand goes to his chest, to cover the broach that sits over the place his heart is. “I am her hand, but I was your brother first. If you will let me I can help you. You don’t need to die today, your baby doesn’t need to die.”

Her own hand drifts down to her middle, even as her eyes turn back to the horizon. “Even if I surrender she will not let me live.”

“But if you surrender, if you ring those bells and tell your men to lay down their weapons, she will let the people live. And then you and I will retreat to the tunnels. I have a boat waiting in the bay. With the attention on the walls and the cover of the smoke you should be able to get away unseen.”

She stares, still so beautiful even after everything. The hand leaves her abdomen to touch the crown sitting atop her golden head instead, caressing it lightly. “Everything I’ve done.” She says hoarsely, eyes taking on a glaze. “Everything has been for this. I can’t surrender. I can’t give it up now.”

Tyrion steps even further still, the distance between them closing, “If you don’t then you’re dead! And then it truly will have been for nothing! Do you hear me? Nothing! I beg of you, there’s still a chance, sail to Bravos, sail to Pentos, sail farther and start a new life. If not for your people than for the life that grows inside you! Bring your child into a world where you don’t have to be afraid every day, where you can just be his mother, where you can just love him, nurture him, protect him. Give him all of the things Joffrey and Myrcella and Tommen never got a chance to have.”

Silence for a moment, the sound of her breathing is the only thing that falls between them. It’s taken on a panicked pace. “I don’t trust you.” She finally announces, “Monstrous thing. A curse on our house. Valenqor.” She hisses the last word, strange and foreign. Then all at once she seems to shake this momentary craze off and replaced by dead monotony. “In the game of thrones you either win or you die.”

Tyrion looses his patience and strides across the remaining stretch of floor to seize her by the elbow. Knocking her goblet out of her hand to fall to the floor with a clatter, “You fool! You have a chance to live!” He drags her bodily around away from the window, to face him fully for the first time. “You-!” He cuts himself off, staring at her. At her slender form. This can’t be right, she is as willowy as ever. By this time, months into her pregnancy, she should be visibly carrying. He tilts his head back to look at her, realization dawning. “You…you aren’t pregnant, are you?” She snatches her arm away. “Was there ever a baby? What was that, a lie?”

Her mouth parts and for the first time in a long time she resembles the girl he’d grown up with. Still so young, scared and devastated. “There was!” She whispers, hands going back to her flat stomach, fisting the fabric of her dress. “There was. I-something happened. It died.”

He regards her, with a renewed sense of remorse. A lone tear rolls from her eye, and she raises one trembling hand to dash it away, this lonely, scared girl. “Oh my darling sister.” He whispers, “We did leave you all alone, didn’t we.”

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

Chapter One: first / previous / next

a/n: This was the first scene I wrote directly after watching the final episode. Born out of a) the firm belief that it would have been much more interesting if Tyrion had been the one trying to talk Cersei down himself b) the firm belief that Cersei would not have just fled the scene and c) the firm belief that enough time has passed that if she really was pregnant she would be visibly so by this point. Having her have lost the baby also adds into my fascination with the idea of Dany and Cersei as direct foils, abuse survivors who’s identities have been shaped by motherhood, each now having had three children + a miscarriage. And now we are watching as both of their built-up suffering and loss come to a head and collide.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

@thecicadasong yeah i havent actually had like, Anons trying to get fresh w/ me about what i Should be drawing (i think ive gotten anon hate like, twice? once for passing along a tweet abt respecting homeless people, another time i have No idea why they were trying to roast me but they were also...weirdly bad at it) but the very rare occasions someone’s tried to tell me i should be drawing different stuff for whatever reason Stick With Me b/c i’m often still steamed abt shit that mightve happened years back but it was THAT annoying lmfao & i reaaally hate when ppl get patronizing &/or when i can tell they’re acting like whatever angle they’re taking is going over my head or they think i’m clueless & i can’t even tell they see me that way lol and i’m like, oh my god i mean it doesn’t make me concerned if i Only Appreciate Boys b/c they’re mostly who i draw b/c yknow......my drawing corner is some rando over here just entertaining myself & Xpressing myself. and a real limited amt of my Interests = the ones im able/interested enough in to draw, & then i tend to wanna draw them a million times lmao....it’s not necessarily the One Unfiltered Reflection of all my interests and all the characters i like, cuz it’s not the only way i think abt shit and express things, & if somebody thinks that my Portfolio not being >50% Girls means that it’s b/c i’ve totally hated girls all along.....that’d be their prerogative i guess. also good lord but that’d be a bad litmus test anyways like.......alllll the misogynist dude artists who draw plenty of ~female characters~ like Yikes City ahhhhh god thats such a fucking cursed realm like. the people so sexist they should be banned from depicting girls and women in any medium. and banned in general God Anyways And Yeah like. the terrible relationships thing too.........like really, this is what you think is appealing???? its too clear sometimes when some man writing this kind of stuff has NO real idea how to think of a woman as an actual person and if they’re trying to write from that perspective it’s like “oh, let’s throw in a ‘smh boys are so stupid and sexist’ thought to realistically depict what it must be like to experience misogyny” and “something about a bra idk” and then call it a day, and if they’re trying to write Romance it’s just like....this Incredible Love that’s truly out of nowhere and they never bother explaining what sustains this, or they decide that the reason bitches liked pride & prejudice is totally because she thought he was a jerk and they fought but then it was like wait nvm we’re in love, right?? and they make that into like, some dude being able to be a total asshole and a really detrimental force in some girl’s life and somehow this Intensity can just be translated into Romantic Intensity no problem, it’s fine that like, they’re not even friends and who knows how to believe they can just get along in regular life and the guy is probably super disrespectful and diminishes her but whatever its fine All Of This And More.....there are so many terrible and annoying ways they do m/f relationships and it’s Really easy to just make it decently written!!! i mean of course sometimes there’s m/f ships that i think are tolerably written and i don’t hate it but also don’t particularly care one way or another but a small / hetero-leaning fandom will like Never Shut Up About It and it’s like ok please shut up about it......i mean really i definitely don’t ever go into any new piece of media expecting to give a shit about any Guy Girl couple. it was a pleasant but total surprise that i really like jeremy/christine (which is not me disavowing the nb lesbian jeremy hc by any means lol) and it was NOT complicated why!!! really in fact a couple of the biggest reasons i found it Especially Good is like, ten seconds in total lmao and it’s “jeremy and christine cracking up by squawking at each other on the couch” and “jeremy doing that Ecstatic Stimming Twirl after kissing christine for 0.003 seconds” lmao.....like!!!! consider showing that the characters can actually have genuine fun interacting with each other for longer than five seconds!!!! give us a single reason why they’d be drawn to each other As People!!! it’s notttt thaaaat harrrrrd aaaaaaaaaA THE WEIRD CHARACTERS yeah i love a true Quirky character and not in the like.....bad clichéd quirky way but like. just someone who’s weird!! the nerdy awkward guys who manifest this by like....maybe being a tiny bit socially clumsy are like, boring and whatever a dime a dozen. but when people are funky and in a sort of fun way and it’s genuinely part of how they interact with others....it’s real relatable lmao i don’t have any very Weird Persona at this point but back in the day i did a bit moreso b/c like, firstly interacting w ppl tended to make me Nervous so it’s like ah hell i’ll do a bit. and then also there’s the classic “well i have this Weirdness abt me that i can’t turn off that ppl seem to dislike, so i’ll put on this extra layer of weirdness that i can try to be vaguely entertaining with.” and then you aren’t popular at all still lol but at least you’ve got your niche amongst whoever does actually like you.....Weird Quirky Guys characters are fun and like, it’s funny that nato of the black suits is Like That in terms of being a lil weirdo who just kind of does his thing in his corner and might Say Something About Anything Apropos Of Nothing as his conversational style and he’s apparently that superlative student type but doesnt seem to actually give a shit and just has his specific interest and depression.......it’s like oh jeez!!! relatable lmao!!! everyone who has a kind of Veneer of communicating a bit erratically and maybe just always throwing out random shit when interacting with others to hope something sticks......but also the strangeness doesn’t even have to be at all performative b/c it’s rarer but super fun when there’s characters who do have that kind of more inherent weirdness that they can’t turn off that really puts people off despite like....them not really doing anything lol....now THAT’S what i call A Timeless Mood it’s funny lmao like i totally have clear Character Types and i always go for those ppl on the same general wavelength as me but it can be a bit Unpredictable and nuanced which ones will actually be adopted into the faves category......like naturally i go for the un-cool passionate excitable types but if someone’s real like, mad energetic or demanding/loud im like oops you lost me. i like people who like to / want to Socialize / have relationships but sometimes if they’re too outgoing / have that natural success at it all / are obv free of anxiety im like, again, you’ve lost me. you truly never know!! only the Most relatable can survive!! one that might seem like they should be a fave on paper might super annoy me lol or just generate Zero interest.......it’s nice to be surprised by which characters really strike a chord lol

[alwaysanotherooc]

America’s Most Furious

Rating: E for everyone Book: America’s Most Eligible Pairings: Mackenzie/Jamie/Bianca (it’s not a triangle it’s poly let me LIVE dammit) Description: The Elimination comes with a shocking twist, all in a days episode for filming America’s Most Eligible, Season 10, but GOD, at what cost? Jamie’s got to keep her guard up. Author’s Note: Basically what I think will happen/what I WANT to happen in chapter 10 next week. Also, Lord, I have not done this in a while. This is a different version of my last fic with almost the same premise but it had my Male MC who’s a Sweetheart, this is my Female Jamie who’s a Villain with a gay soft spot for Mack and Bianca.

Jamie POV

No matter what happened, I would not lose my temper.

No matter what happened, I would stay calm and I would not lose my temper.

Standing in the Bottom Three was infuriating, but what was even more infuriating was the fact that Bianca was here for the third time when she absolutely did not deserve it, especially considering that dumbass Zeke and Ivy’s fake ass were still around.

The fact that no one else but me, Bianca, and Mackenzie (and maybe Adam, I wasn’t entirely sure) could see through that thin veneer of poisoned sugar caked over every atom of Ivy’s whole body was just...wild.

I pitied Derek, honestly, to have to be so close to her all the time just to step his game up and keep the producers off his back, while she kept trying to seduce him even in private when anyone and everyone on set knew that Derek and Adam couldn’t keep their hands, much less their eyes off of each other, and even with Derek constantly reminding Ivy that ‘our showmance is just for the cameras’ and Ivy constantly pouting about it with crocodile tears and blatantly ignoring him, Derek still couldn’t seem to understand that she was Big Bad News in capital letters.

Carson finally got the signal from the camera crew and turned to us, a forced grin on his face. “Before we announce the results of the vote, let’s go over the rules of the evening.”

“Oh for god’s sake...” I muttered, reaching out and twining my fingers with Bianca’s.

Carson took a breath. “Tonight, instead of one person being eliminated, there will be two! Tonight marks our first Double Elimination in Season 10, everyone, which means that since this is a special night, all of the contestants not up for elimination are available to vote, and the two with the most votes will be eliminated.”

I adored Carson, I did, but if he said a version of ‘eliminate’ one more time I might scream.

Carson continued, “In the event there is any form of a tie, a special tiebreaker will decide who leaves and who stays.”

Bianca cursed softly under her breath and tightened her grip on me, and all I could think was that if Bianca left then I’d be leaving with her to go to the Jury house and cheer Mack on from there with her. 

After making eye contact with each of us, Carson finally reached for the envelope, opened it, and blinked twice.

After a short, tense pause he lifted sad puppy dog eyes to face us.

“Bianca, Jamie, you have been deemed...ineligible.” He said softly.

Bianca’s hand trembled in mine and I tried to keep myself from screaming. Instead, I made myself say cooly, “Thank you, Carson.”

He nodded at the others. “Please say your goodbyes.”

Mack rushed forward and wrapped her arms around Bianca, letting Bianca hide her teary face, and after one reassuring squeeze of her hand, I let go to pay my respects.

I turned to Zeke first, taking the attention of the cameras off of Bianca and Mack as I stepped right up into his face and smiled my Evil Queen smile. “Your girlfriend is gonna dump you on your ass so hard when she finds out you’ve been lying to her and cheating n her all this time, and you’re gonna deserve it. Buh-bye.”

I spun away from him, ignoring his enraged babbling, and locked onto Adam. “You play the game well. Do your thing, Adam.”

He winked good-naturedly at me.

I looked Derek up and down, making sure to spend extra time on where he and Ivy were holding hands. When I finally met his eyes, I dragged my gaze deliberately back over to Adam, before tutting, “Oh...honey...good luck, boo.”

I ignored Ivy and let Mack and Bianca pull me close.

Mack whispered, “I might actually kill somebody now.”

Bianca chuckled and I hummed, “Careful, you better win this or we’re gonna top you for a week.”

Bianca finally laughed and Mack just rolled her eyes before kissing each of us, softly, sweetly. “You guys gonna pull for me at the Jury House?”

Biance and I looked at each other and smiled. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

Finally, we let go of Mack and she stepped back. I linked arms with Bianca and started to turn to walk towards the Confessionals one last time.

“Wait!” Ivy yelled.

Wary, I turned and found Ivy with those damned crocodile tears pouring down her pageant queen face. “Aren’t either of you going to say goodbye to me?”

I looked over at Bianca and raised my eyebrows. She smirked, shook her head, and said, “I think you’ve got this one baby.”

I tossed my hair back over my shoulder and met Ivy full on.

Slowly, as if I was speaking to a particularly dumb child, I asked, “What in the world could we possibly have to say to you, the biggest two faced bitch anyone in this house has ever had the displeasure of meeting?”

And with that, we turned and walked away, Ivy’s false sobs rising in the air above us as Mack cackled, “Those are my girlfriends!”

[rainsmediaradio]

Lil Durk - 300 Urus Lyrics

Lil Durk - 300 Urus Lyrics Verse Tee, his first time out of jail He ain't give me a hug, he hugged the block (Wheezy outta here) I can be in any city, I ask them, "Where I find a mosque?" Gotta watch out what I say on here, they'll do me like my pops Do him dirty, crazy I never want them to do me like the opps See, my brother ain't gotta look me, if he on feet, he shoot in Crocs See, them niggas I used to love say they gone do me like I'm Pac Tell them Flavor Flav around his neck, that boy live with a clock Whole district on him on a high speed, he still ain't throw the Glock Wе in war, so if you high speed with a gun, you getting cold Brodie dead, you saying his namе still, you ain't did shit for a show I don't even tell his ass to be careful, he don't even slide even to get caught Pulled up, his ass was froze, that mini micro made assault How you gone play with me? I got money, nigga, your lil' ass gotta walk How you gone play with me with your lame ass? Your bitch-ass getting caught Murderman, we call him, "Murk, " we don't call him nothing 'Cause he getting watched (Go) Niggas thought we got into it with Drench, but I told Drench, "Send the song tonight" Niggas dead wrong tryna meet with me in a hotel with a mice You ain't chase nothing down in years (I know) He ain't even send you money for years (I know) I'm from the Lam', we might just jump out a Urus (I know) Say he a killer, I start covering my ears (I know) He made a channel tryna buy some veneers (I know) It's a reason niggas ain't here with me, these niggas ain't here with me Bro gone shoot, he get that clearance, I don't think they hearing me See, that cousin shit be scaring me, that shit gone bury me They be fucking with the opps, huh? 'Cause I ain't they brother They be tryna hit the O up and tell them fuck us Still be smoking on the Dro just before the summer These grown gangsters, they be mad 'Cause they can't have my number (Go) I told him, "No" when he asked for money, he thought that shit was funny I went on the 4 and I told Mikey Lord to talk to Varney We can pay for surgery, but them other niggas can't get sturdy Knew your ass was a bitch, when you seen't the opps, said you couldn't get dirty Hope you pray for all them niggas 'Cause they ain't no killers no more They be begging 'round the city 'Cause I ain't give them no money I still answer, but they know I'm still not giving them nothing He just offered me protection, start to tickle my stomach She told me, "Take a Cialis, " she tryna get shit going Heard he went to dialysis, man, his head started growing He a killer from that side, bro, I bet I'm gone know him He a killer from that side, I bet brodie don't know him She gave me top inside a Maybach, I ain't close the curtain And I was in front of the Trump, she got drunk off the room service She told me she scared of her ex, I told her, "I wish he would hurt you" He be on my block, his ass ain't shit, his ass a 'Wood roller You a gangster 'round her, but you ain't gangster 'round me You a gangster 'round cuz, you ain't gangster 'round C If they call you "Backdoor, " man, you get from 'round me You ain't my Blooda, then you can't listen to Tee Grizzley and me Shoot the club up, I can't shoot the club up You just seen what they just did to Shiesty, you got me fucked up I don't care about camera phones, forever got my gun up Rather get you before you get me, you got me fucked up I just drove it manual in the G-Wagon and got it fucked up Fucking the transmission up, I'm touching on that damn clutch Ayy, bro, bring me Smurk 'Woods, I really don't want no damn Dutch I feel like a bitch, I told a snitch I'd rather pay him up Draco in your bookbag, my Draco in my pants, tucked I ain't even gone cap, that barrel dirty, it fuck your pants up Click it to the right, it go, rrah, fuck ya mans up If a goofy come around, Lil Boona'll put his hands up Bitch, I'm from 300, I'm the first one with a Lamb' truck Every time we fall out with them niggas, they hit the 'Gram up Migo gave me a feature with no money, he gave them grams up You can't even cut nothing less, he got his hands full, nigga

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[wigwurq]

WIG REVIEW: AMERICAN CRIME STORY - THE ASSASSINATION OF GIANNI VERSACE

It’s finally here!! After months and months of random set pictures and Entertainment Weekly photoshoots, we can finally bask in the wigs of this true crime nonsense. As with Twin Peaks Return and Stranger Things, I will be updating this entry with weekly wig reviews and adjusting whether the wigs wurq as a whole. Let’s discuss! 

EPISODE ONE

We begin in the quiet morning of July 15, 1997, the day Gianni Versace was murdered. Yes, this show literally starts with a bang. But first, we see Versace going through his normal morning rituals of breakfast with his staff in the gorgeous museum he lives in. Straight up: Edgar Ramirez looks EXACTLY LIKE VERSACE. Granted, he is about a decade younger than Versace was but this wig WURQS. You know I am not a fan of 99.9% of male wigs but this thing is great - excellent texture and seams and no weird flipping out in the back as with most male wigs.

We also get some flashback wigs to the early 90s when Versace met his assassin, Andrew Cunanan (the truth of which I definitely question) but sadly, the internet refuses to give me these younger Versace wigs (which are also good) so please enjoy another Versace in 1997 pic. 

Darren Criss is also excellent, if wigless, as Cunanan. Though he is definitely about 1000% more attractive than the actual Cunanan. Also can this show please explain to me who this rando couple is that he hangs out with? One of the issues with this show is it is hella disorganized about its storytelling (and I actually know a lot about this story - I think someone who doesn’t would be lost) but I guess we have a whole season to find out who the hell Annaleigh Ashford is supposed to be playing. FINE. 

Also excellent (but wigless) is RICKY EFFING MARTIN as Versace’s partner. He spends most of this episode being drenched in blood while having to answer homophobic questions from cops AND then being totally bitch slapped (sadly only metaphorically) by Donatella.

AND THEN THERE’S DONATELLA. Penny Cruz, good lord. The Versace family has already publicly denounced/disowned this TV show but Donatella should be SO EFFING HAPPY that this goddess is playing her. At first glance, this is obviously a terrible wig but let us all remember what Donatella’s hair looks like...

So...actually pretty accurate.

The seamwork is a little iffy but I’m still going to give this wig a pass since the color and texture are spot on as is Penny Cruz’s performance.

EPISODE TWO

I see what they’re doing here: rather than going ALLLL the way back to the beginning, we’re just going back episode by episode until we finally get why Cunanan did what he did...I think? I dunno. Anyway, in this episode we travel back to 1994 when Versace was diagnosed with some mystery disease (mmmmmhmmm) which wikipedia will have you believe was ear cancer...

We also get Penny Cruz in a flashback wig WITH BANGS and learn that she was always a dick to Ricky Martin. BOO!

Meanwhile, in the not-so-distant past (of 1997), Cunanan has arrived in Miami with full Laura Branigan underscoring to recreate select scenes from Staying Alive with some shady old dudes he finds on the beach. He also gets propositioned to start a beachside florist business with a cocaine addict.  Seems legit!

Also despite being one of the FBI’s Most Wanted, a severe paper shortage (and/or some patriarchal bureaucracy) has lead to 0% FBI flyers with Cunanan’s picture on it to be made MUCH TO THE CHAGRIN of Daya from OITNB. TRUST DAYA, random dude from Mad Men! UGH.

Oh, and Ricky Martin and Edgar Ramirez are totally in LURVE. Aw. 

EPISODE THREE

This episode didn’t involve one goddamned Versace and was essentially an hour long “for your consideration” episode for Judith Light getting an Emmy FINALLY. PLEASE? The fact that Judith Light has never won an Emmy is a whole other issue but I’m hoping this episode will fix that. 

As this show moves slowly back in time, we begin in May 1997 when Chicago real estate mogul Lee Migler was murdered by Cunanan. Judith Light plays Marilyn Migler, the “queen of perfume” and straight up queen of my heart. She also wears the only wig in the episode. 

Yes, this wig is your average ‘90s power ‘do and the texture is all over the place but it is not a far cry from how the real Marilyn Miglin’s hair looked and might actually be an upgrade? Everything Judith Light does is an upgrade. 

In general, this is a really upsetting episode and showcases how many mistakes were made that led to Cunanan murdering more people (don’t tell the murderer that you are tracking him via his fancy car phone, for instance?!) but Judith Light’s subtle blonde waves and fake fingernail tappings were everything. 

EPISODE FOUR

Okay this show is officially really upsetting. And I already knew this upsetting story fairly well to begin with. UGH.

This is the second week without a Donatella wig (which is upsetting enough!) but this episode is all about how Cunanan murdered his first victim, and then, after a week of Stockholm Syndrome that could rival Beauty and the Beast, his second. We’re still moving back ever so slightly in the timeline so the whole Versace story (which IS in the title...) is really just becoming the Cunanan show. 

And wigless though he is (there are actually no wigs in this episode!) Darren Criss is definitely a revelation: he is both sinister, charming, ridiculous, and heartbreaking at the same time. Gurlfriend wants that Emmy, henny. 

This dude who plays David is also really good and his haircut/blonde highlights definitely give me bad high school flashbacks.

Not for nothing, Aimee Mann is in this episode singing a Cars cover in a midwestern roadhouse while David tries and fails to escape from Cunanan through a bathroom window. And yes: that sentence was PEAK Ryan Murphy. 

EPISODE FIVE

VERSACE IS BACK! Thank god. The last few episodes have been hella depressing (don’t worry - this one is too!) but at least we get some fabulous wigs from the Versace family. This episode is mainly in 1995 and is all about coming out of the closet! Which was actually not that fun back in 1995 despite being the same year that cinematic gay masterpiece Too Wong Foo Thanks For Everything, Julie Newmar! came out. I think everyone in this episode just needed a hug from Miss Vida Boheme.

Anyway, Penny Cruz and her fabulous BANGS as Donatella are none too pleased about Gianni wanting to come out, though she tells him it’s not because she hates his partner Antonio (it’s totally why) but because she thinks it’ll damage the business. Because we all know how much people have historically hated gay fashion designers (eyeroll emoji). UGH DONATELLA.

Anyway, Gianni tells Donatella to STFU and goes ahead with a splashy Advocate spread (that’s how you do it, gurl!) which makes Ricky Martin really happy and it’s nice though ultimately super depressing since this real-life happiness was obvs shortlived. But regardless: Gianni’s wig still wurqs.

Elsewhere in wigless storylines, we learn all about Cunanan’s first murder victim, Jeff Trail, and his decidedly NOT splashy coming out story as a member of the US Navy during the Don’t Ask Don’t Tell years. This episode has the kitchen sink of upsetting things: hate crimes, suicidal thoughts, anti-gay comic books, self-inflicted tattoo-removing wounds, sad gay bar scenes, and finally finding who you think is your gay ally.... who then ends up murdering you a couple years later. Cheers! Sobbing.

This episode leads us right up to where we started in the last episode....with Cunanan murdering Trail. But not before stealing his gun.....dun dun dun.

EPISODE SIX

We begin this episode in the lap of luxury and also with Darren Criss’s lap as he skinnydips his way around Michael Nouri (OF FLASHDANCE FAME)’s La Jolla estate. At this point (in 1996), Cunanan is a rent boy (who barely puts out - good deal!) for Nouri’s older millionaire character.  

Anyway, Nouri is throwing Cunanan a birthday party and invited all his friends over, plus a few of Cunanan’s friends and we get the return of his rando galpal played by Annaleigh Ashford. Despite being described as his best friend, gurlfriend straight up asks Cunanan if he is 100% gay now. GURL HE IS LIVING WITH AN OLD MAN AS A RENT BOY. DO THE MATH.

Basically the whole party turns into a lie-filled ruse to impress Cunanan’s ain’ true love, David, who is far more interested in talking to Jeff. Oh, also Lee Miglin shows up which I found highly dubious but regardless: Ryan Murphy presented us with 3/5 murder victims at this bday party. What a fete!

Jeff and David clearly were starting to see through Cunanan’s veneer, but no one had his number like Nouri’s queen on the scene friend (played by SNL alum Terry Sweeney) who READ CUNANAN FOR FILTH. The library was open!

Sufficed to say, it wasn’t the best party. Still: Nouri offered to keep Cunanan on as his rent boy but of course, Cunanan got greedy and asked for a bunch more perks (including but not limited to being Nouri’s sole heir...)....so it was byeeeeeeeee to the La Jolla lifestyle and HELLO to a really depressing studio apartment.

Of course, this in no way stops Cunanan from continuing to do his favorite thing: lying and spending money he doesn’t have! Despite a lavish weekend in LA, David made it clear that he was not THE ONE which sent Cunanan into a crystal-fueled drug sequence (UGH RYAN MURPHY) which offered us the only glimpse this week of Gianni’s fabulous wig. And the only wig of the week! Bring back the wigs!

In the end, Cunanan ends up broke and desperate at his mom’s ultra-depressing apartment and we get a glimpse of where he got his crazy genes. Mama did NOT wanna hear about her goldenboy having any issues so...it was byeee and off to Minneapolis (which for the record does actually have an opera house if you were wondering...)

EPISODE SEVEN

So this episode involved a LOT of Donatella wig action and I am here for it. Circa mid-90s Donatella is busy at work NOT designing the dresses she’s supposed to design and instead telling actual designers to read her mind and design the dresses she’d like to design. Since the only one with a glass ball into Donatella’s noggin is Gianni hisself, he steps in to show a bitch how it’s DONE.

The two collaborate and by “collaborate” I mean Penny Cruz stood around while a belt was placed around her neck and BOOM - the Versace belt dress is created! Somehow? 

We are gifted with this rando storyline because Versace is suffering from a bout of ear cancer and is priming Donatella to take over the company JUST IN CASE which obvs foretells when she actually has to take over the company a few years later. But mostly it just shows Penny Cruz in a pretty good wig wondering if she’s pretty enough to model a dress, which by all accounts is peak nonsense. 

Spoiler: she wears the dress and it is a big hit! Well, with fashion critics anyway but apparently not with the buying public (which we’re left just to assume they work out since this dress ended up being a hit?) Basically, this storyline is kind of a waste of time other than the fact that we are gifted with Donatella’s LEWK above which is everything the 90s loved in hair - bangs, wisps, Elaine Benes updo poof, and chunky hair clip. WURQ!

Things are decidedly less glamorous (and less wiggy) over in Cunanan’s storyline. He’s working at a pharmacy where they won’t even let him spend his downtime reading Vogue magazines. RUDE! Even ruder: his mom buys LOW COST ICE CREAM which does not befit his fancy schmancy pharmacy ways. SUPER RUDE! So to fuel his high-cost ice cream needs (I assume?) he tries to get a job at a prominent (?) male escort company but doesn’t make the cut because gay men who get escorts apparently don’t want Asians (?!?!?!?!)

So Andy of course takes matters into his own tentacles and becomes his own damn pimp! He achieves his high class hooker status pretty easily: he randomly looks through some newspapers to identify rich gays, buys some opera tickets, conveniently meets a rich gay man, becomes his house boy, witnesses his murder, convinces the victim’s friend to move from Arizona to La Jolla and buy a needlessly expensive house and become HIS house boy. EASY! 

Whilst out celebrating his (secret) high class hooker status, he meets his ain’ true love (and 2nd murder victim): David! They spend a romantic (?) night together at a fancy hotel which seems to be Andy’s only time with a dude his own age and David charms him with a story about telling some rando chick he’s gonna build her a house (which Andy conveniently retells as his own story to his rich gay dude). What a tangled web!

EPISODE EIGHT

We begin this episode in 1950s Italy. Sure! There, a young Gianni Versace sketches dresses and sucks at school, and everyone speaks English for some reason (seriously, Ryan Murphy - you couldn’t have these actors speak Italian with subtitles? True weirdness). Anyway, he loves making dresses which is also what his mom does and in a true forward-thinking twist, this old-school Catholic Italian mama seems to not mind that her son wants to follow in her dress-making ways. Ok?

Over to 1980s San Diego, things are decidedly less accepting and 1000% weirder. We finally meet Andrew Cunanan’s dad, Modesto. He is a true psychopath who moves his family to a fancy new house, inexplicably gives young Andy the master suite (but retains ownership of the closet - metaphor much?) leaving him and the missus (who he abuses physically and mentally) to have a tiny bedroom and his 3 other kids who he treats like garbage into what appears to be a pantry with bunk beds. Everyone accepts this behavior somehow because he’s a complete lunatic monster who would probably murder them at any moment. Like father like son, eh?

Anyway, we get to see Andy’s high school days at a private school in La Jolla (this school is also my husband’s alma mater if you seriously want the library to be open....). At said school, Andy is gay bashed but also unabashedly takes his shirt off and showboats at school keggers in full Michael Jackson cosplay so I guess it wasn’t all bad? 

Oh but you know what is bad? When your already awful dad steals a lot of money from old ladies and then flees the feds AND the country leaving you and your mom (and your 3 unaccounted for garbage siblings) completely penniless and you have to fly to Manila just to see for yourself if your father is terrible and then he’s even MORE terrible and you give yourself a really bad hand wound and have to go home and get a job at a crappy pharmacy. Pretty bad! Which is not to say that this is bad enough to make you later kill 5 people because there’s still no excuse for that. 

EPISODE NINE

We’ve finally come to the end, and what a long strange trip it’s been! After moving backward in Cunanan’s narrative every week and, frankly, making him far too sympathetic a character for someone who murdered five people, we end as we began: with Cunanan murdering Versace. But this time we move forward instead of backward - to Cunanan’s final, pitiful days. 

Immediately after murdering Versace, Cunanan hottailed it to a conveniently abandoned houseboat. We are not told how he discovered this houseboat, or how its closet magically has clothes that fit him and its refrigerator has champagne that pops for emphasis at exactly the right time because Ryan Murphy isn’t interested in such trivialities when he can focus on how many TVs it has (3! so go ahead and shoot one!) and how many Cunanan ghosts are in the bedroom (1! well, 2 if you count Cunanan after he kills himself...) Indeed, after being found out by the caretaker of said boat and running out of dogfood to eat, and quite literally being smoked out by police, Cunanan, as we all know, shot hisself. Though not before seeing a lot of footage of hisself on TV, being doublecrossed by his father again, and ultimately giving hisself a really butch makeover (at which point my eyes absolutely rolled out of my head into the water). They rolled back long enough to see yet ANOTHER totally made up scene of Cunanan and Versace at the Opera and then they fell out again. Yes, Ryan Murphy wants us to sympathize with this monster but let’s not shall we?

Instead, let’s focus on the triumphant return of JUDITH LIGHT! YAYYYSS KWEEN! As Marilyn Miglin, wife of Cunanan’s 3rd victim, she, like the rest of America, rightly wants to know why the effff the FBI hasn’t found Cunanan yet and just WANTS THIS TO BE OVER SO SHE CAN SELL HER DAMN PERFUME, MMMMKAY? Bitch has priorities, and I’m here for them. I will say that this show does rightly shed a light on how much authorities really effed up this case - from revealing that they were tracking Cunanan through Miglin’s car, leading him to ditch it and murder a rando caretaker with a special needs son for his truck (SOB) to not listening to Daya and refusing to print enough WANTED posters in Miami, not realizing that Cunanan used his own name to sell one of Miglin’s coins at a pawn shop and essentially not stopping him before he killed Versace. Anyway, Judith and her perfect  woman-of-a-certain-age 90s wig is serving PERFECTION and had better be remembered come Emmy award season.

Also Daya from OITNB was back (yes I already used this picture - this is literally the only picture available of her in this show). Anyway, she interviewed Ronnie (OH RONNIE!) about Cunanan and made sure he knew that she knew about those 2 gay clubs in Miami. Ronnie was NOT HERE FOR IT and had prepared a lengthy monologue about 1990s attitudes toward gay society which essentially shut down the entire FBI for a full day I think.

Speaking of shutdowns, somewhere in Milan, Penny Cruz as Donatella in a flawless blonde wig was getting ready for Versace’s funeral but not before throwing some extra shade at Ricky Martin (seriously most of this show was about everyone being such a dick to Ricky Martin!) She told him that no, he couldn’t go live in Versace’s Lake Como house, because, uh, the Versace board wasn’t on board with it? Ricky Martin then got some more shade from a rando priest at the funeral and then took a bunch of pills and wine and was found half-dead by a maid and we’re led to believe he also died. Which is pretty messed up since this dude is actually still alive and I’d like to believe he spent the last 20 years playing bocci with George Clooney.

Anyway, in Donatella’s final reveal, she tells her husband (who, like most dayplayers on this show is essentially just furniture) that on the day Versace died....SHE DIDN’T TAKE HIS PHONECALL! DUN DUN DUN! I guess this is supposed to be some big surprise but honestly, this isn’t even as cold as every single thing she has done on this show to Ricky Martin. She then takes her flawlessly flatironed wig to the Versace mausoleum where she looks into the Versace logo and I swear to god for a second turns into Medusa. FAIR. And...then we see Cunanan’s crypt in a long anonymous hallway and then the whole thing feels like the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark which kind of makes sense since Cunanan, like the lost ark, is full of haunted ghosts and violence but...what the hell Ryan Murphy?!?! THE END!

VERDICT: WURQS!