#but the angst is There and Poignant in either interpretation

[boasamishipper]

fellas is it gay to think about lighting a man’s cigarette with the flame from your own on a cold winter’s night and then tenderly cupping his face between your hands as you lay dying after your wife betrayed and shot you

[porcelainseashore]

Hey everyone! It's the sequel to Forever Hold Your Peace, woooo!! 💫 I'm loving this sliding doors concept of the fic, where it could've played out in either way, up for interpretation:

Leon decides to interrupt the ceremony, and although difficult, they start a positively beautiful relationship together. The second part is separate and a theoretical possibility of what could've happened if he stayed silent.

The entire first part of the story was a lie and all in Leon's head. He watches the couple achieve milestones he dreams of having.

I prefer this version over the one where you would click on whether you wanted a fluff or angst ending instead. It leaves more room for imagination and was also more poignant for me.

Ghostdog, I know that you mostly write fluff, but I'm really enjoying your take on angstier subjects too! Thank you for accepting this comm and challenging yourself 🙏 Now, we get to enjoy the fruits of your labour! 💛💛💛

Sliding Doors

Leon Kennedy x female reader, Chris Redfield x female reader, fluff, angst

For the lovely @porcelainseashore who commission a continuation from Forever Hold Your Peace. Thank you for all your love and support ❤️

“Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony…” the minister begins, but as you stand opposite Chris – a soft, adoring smile on his face, shedding a tear when he’d saw how beautiful you looked as you walked down the aisle – you can’t help but meet the gaze of the best man’s icy blue eyes for a moment. “..speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Leon clenches his fists.

“No.”

It’s a muttered plea more than a loud proclamation, but it’s audible enough for several pairs of eyes to focus on him due to the interruption.

The minister smiles, awkwardly, his eyes flitting between the members of the bridal party to gauge whether it was a joke – heaven knows he’s seen them fall flat before - before he clears his throat to proceed with the vows.

“Christo-”

“No.” It’s louder that time, Leon’s voice echoed around the room like a gunshot.

“Not the time for your jokes, bud.” Chris forces out a laugh as he replies over his shoulder, before turning back to you and offering a reassuring smile.

“It’s not a joke.” You wish the ground would swallow you up as Leon remains focused on you. “Don’t marry him.”

“Leon”, Claire hisses from over your shoulder, looking furious. “What are you doing?”

He ignores her. “I’m not saying marry me, but just… Don’t marry him.”

You shake your head, subtly, eyes wide in fear as the small congregation of friends and family begin to whisper amongst themselves.

This isn’t happening. It can’t be happening.

Chris’ fists are now clenched as he turns to his supposed best man, his brow furrowed as he tries to analyze the situation, his mind automatically heading into work mode – assess, strategize, action.

“What is this?”

Leon ignores Chris too, instead taking a step forward. “I’m different now – I swear. Just give me another chance. The connection’s still there – I know you felt it when we kissed-”

“Kissed?!” Chris and Claire reiterate almost in unison, and someone in the seated crowd gasps.

“What kiss?” Chris presses, turning back to look at you in disbelief. “Honey, what’s he talking about?”

Your mouth feels drier than it ever has, your tongue heavy in your mouth. “I didn’t, Chris… I… I mean, he…”

“I kissed her, Redfield.” Leon cuts across, rolling back his shoulders as he sidesteps in front of the groom, blocking you from his sight. “When you asked me to deliver that gift earlier, I kissed her. Can’t say it was the first time either.”

You should say something more coherent than your mumbled excuses – explain what Leon means by that because it definitely makes it sound worse than it is - but your heart is pounding and you’re beginning to feel a little faint.

This isn’t real, it’s a bad dream and you’re going to wake up in the hotel suite, Claire knocking on the door, hair stylist and make-up artist in tow to help you start getting ready.

The minister tries to soothe tensions instead. “Perhaps we should take this somewhere more private to-“

“What the fuck does that mean, Kennedy?”

“We were a thing-”

“We were not a thing, Leon,” you shift a little to the side then so you can see Chris, finding your voice at last.

You wished you hadn’t moved as hurt flashes across Chris’ face - sweet, loyal, dependable Chris.

Chris, who never fails to set up coffee machine timer to greet you with a freshly brewed batch when he has to leave early, who would always find some sort of way to communicate with you even if he was halfway across the world, who never shied away from holding your hand or kissing you in public, who told his closest colleagues about you openly, who didn’t treat you like a dirty little secret.

Chris, who, despite how much you tried to convince yourself, has never made you feel quite like Leon did.

“-before you two started dating.” Leon presses on, ignoring how the taller man’s shoulders grow more and more tense, seething breaths now coming out of his nose. “I treated her rotten, drove her into your arms and regretted it every minute since. I’m not gonna let her make the biggest mis-”

Chris’ fist meets Leon’s face – it’s so swift that the whole room takes a moment to realise what’s happened. The agent is surprisingly not knocked off his feet by the blow but stumbles back and you automatically reach out a hand to steady him by his arm, unaware of how it looks in that moment.

Leon wipes a trickle of blood from his mouth, looking smug as he relishes your touch. “Not gonna say I didn’t deserve that.”

Chris is staring at your hand on Leon’s arm and you pull it back when you see the hurt in his eyes, wringing your hands together as you begin to plead.

“I’m sorry, Chris. I should’ve told you, but it… It was nothing. A blip. It wasn’t anything like what we have. He kissed me earlier and I pushed him away and I told him. Please.”

“Is this why you were crying?” Claire demands, stepping over to stand besides Chris in an act of support. Her shoulders are high, ready to protect her brother at all costs. “In the suite earlier, when Leon was there.”

“N-no,” you shake your head furiously, but your voice isn’t convincing enough to your own ears, especially in comparison to Leon’s firm “Yes.”

You’re hot, the wedding gown of your dreams feeling stifling, too tight, the veil tugging heavily at your scalp.

“Chris, please, can we go talk somewhere?” You step forward, past Leon, hand outstretched to take your fiance’s. You want to take him away from all the prying eyes, the disbelieving murmurs, away from all the tension, have a discussion with clear heads, but he pulls his hand from out of your reach.

“Do you love him?” Chris’ voice is so flat it makes you feel sick. It’s the same tone he has when he comes back from missions where he’s lost comrades, the one that you can slowly break him out of after days of soft words and touches.

You never wanted to be the cause of it.

“It’s been years.” There’s the crack in your voice again, your next words a little too rushed. “I love you. You’re sweet. You’re so sweet, kind and loyal.”

Everything Leon wasn’t.

“I said, do you love Leon?”

You stare deep into Chris’ eyes then, his lips pressed together in a thin line. There had been something when Leon had kissed you less than an hour ago, how easily you’d almost fallen back into threading your fingers into his hair to deepen it, how your heartbeat had remained elevated since.

Leon is a wildcard and Chris is steady, dependable – everything you should want.

Everything you’ve been convincing yourself you did want.

One more look into your fiancee’s eyes is all it takes. He doesn’t deserve this but he does deserve the truth.

You take a shuddering breath and nod.

“I’m sorry, I-“

“Right.” Chris nods, as casual as if he’s just been given his latest set of orders. He turns on his heels and heads back down the aisle – the aisle he was meant to be walking down with you on his arm as his new wife – with his head and shoulders held high, Claire hurrying after him, dropping your bouquet as she does.

As you stare at his retreating form, Leon slips his hand into yours and squeezes.

And, as tears begin to stream down your face again, you squeeze back.

--

He drove you away from the venue on his bike, your cheek pressed firmly against his back and your veil floating behind you in the wind.

Cars honked in celebration around you, all under the impression that a husband was taking his new wife for a celebratory ride, not that the best man had just absconded with the bride.

He takes you back to his apartment, a thing he’d never done when you were ‘together’, but it made sense now, considering. You lived with Chris, a two-storey on a cul-de-sac, white picket fence – you could hardly go back there today.

Or ever.

“What can I do, sweetheart?” Leon asks, cautiously, as you both stand in his living room a few feet apart. It feels more like a show-home than your place – no personal affects, the coffee table empty besides a remote control for the widescreen.  

“I… I need to get out of this.” You huff, ripping the veil from your scalp at last, the pins holding it in place scattering over his polished wooden floor and you fling it down on the sofa. You know you won’t be able to undo your dress yourself so you turn, flustered. “I can’t…”

“I’ve got you, it’s okay.” Leon soothes, closing the gap between the two of you and deftly unpicking the laces of the corset with nimble fingers. You feel it loosen immediately, but it doesn’t ease the suffocating feeling in your chest.

“There.” The dress drops a little and you quickly wrap your arms around yourself, keeping it up, before Leon steps around the coffee table, heading towards the hallway. “I’ll… I’ll grab you a change of clothes.”

Your clothes, right. They’re all at yours.

Oh, God, how are you going to get them?

How could you ever face Chris again?

You remain standing in the living room, forcing yourself to breathe deeply. You can hear Leon opening and closing some drawers, obviously looking for something that you can wear. He emerges a few moments later, holding a grey sweatshirt and some black gym shorts.

“I think these will work. Shorts have a drawstring, so…”

“Where’s the bathroom?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, down the hall, second door on your left.”

You take the clothes from his hand, avoiding eye contact and head to change. Your hands are shaking as you turn the lock, quickly shedding your dress and wedding night lingerie – not how you thought you’d be removing it tonight, that’s for sure, but you can’t bear to keep any of it on. Finally, you slide a lacey white garter off your thigh and bundle everything together into a ball, placing it on top of one of the two laundry baskets in the corner, noting he separates lights and darks.

You pull the sweatshirt over your head – it feels odd, oversized but not as oversized as any of the things you’d stolen from Chris’ dresser – before putting on the shorts and double-knotting the cord to keep them up.

You wet your face in the sink next, washing off your make-up as best you can. A glint catches your eye from your right hand – your engagement ring moved over in preparation for the wedding ring being slipped on.

You’ll need to return it.

Carefully, you pull it off your finger and place it on the sink, undoing the latch on the necklace Chris had sent Leon up with – does he regret that now? Is he sat somewhere with a whiskey, mulling over what would be different if he hadn’t sent his best man to the bridal suite? - and thread it through the chain, fastening it back around your neck and tucking it under the sweatshirt, out of sight.

You don’t want to wear it, really, the idea making you feel sick being adorned with gifts that Chris had picked out lovingly - but you don’t want to lose it somewhere in Leon’s apartment either.

Leon is still standing in the same place in the living room when you emerge, the only difference being his tie is now off and thrown over the coffee table, one hand in his pocket. You stop a couple of feet in front of him and stare, trying to read his gaze.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t set out to say those things, baby. I just-” You throw yourself into his arms, sobbing – for what’s just occurred and for how horrible you feel when being in his arms immediately just feels so right, more natural than being wrapped in Chris’ ever did.

Leon presses kisses to your crown, pulls you back and down onto the sofa and hooks your legs up into his lap, rocking you back and forth like a child who needs consoling.

“It’s all right. It’ll be okay. And I’ll be better, I promise.” He murmurs against your ear when your sobs begin to slow, his white shirt significantly damp with your abundance of tears. “I’m not fucking up again. Not after this, baby. I’ll spend every damn day showing you how serious I am about you, about us.”

--

Chris remains a gentleman, despite everything. The first you hear from him is one week after the wedding, via email, letting you know that he’ll be out of the house for a few days if you’d like to go in and collect your things. He’s going to put the house on the market after, said he’s taken a new position within the BSAA and will be permanently relocating to the European branch, so doesn’t see the point in keeping it empty. It’s not surprising, really, Chris has been headhunted a couple of times since his work in Europe, but he’d always wanted to remain on American soil, with you.

He adds he’s going to sell the furniture as a job lot too, so to take anything you like and then leave the keys under the doormat once you’re done.

He signs it best regards.

He’s too nice for what you’ve done to him.

A fact Claire had reminded you of daily – scornful text messages and voicemails telling you exactly what she thinks of you and Leon. They cease only after Chris can be heard in the background of the final voicemail, telling her to stop.

You’re living in a short-term rental when you pick up your things – not that you would’ve taken any of the furniture anyway. You’d stayed at Leon’s for a week after, sleeping in his spare room. He’d returned to the venue and picked up the things you’d left in the bridal suite as you lay in bed, festering in the horrible combination of guilt and relief of what had transpired.

Leon wanted you to move in permanently, but you told him it was too much, too soon. You made demands this time, wanting to take it slow but also testing the limits of how much he had meant it when he said things would be different, that he would be different.

You were selfish with them at first – he had to date you properly, take you out for lunch, coffee and dinner dates, walks around the park, weekend trips away and trips to the movies, hold your hand and kiss you in public.

You told him you wanted him to try therapy, to learn how to communicate.

And, to his credit, he does it all. He hates the first three therapists, only managing a session or two with them, but he keeps going until he clicks with the fourth and sees them every Wednesday – always reschedules for another day of the week if he’s away with work.

You’re never sure how he’s going to be immediately after – sometimes he emerges with the weight of the world resting even more heavily on his shoulders, other times he seems to have a pep in his step until, gradually, he comes out lighter and lighter every time.

He tells you he loves you when you make a dumb joke over dinner in a cheesy diner – so loud in his proclamation that the waitress gives the two of you a slice of pie each on the house, extra whipped cream.

There are things he’s still uncomfortable with but he’s better at communicating, each of you compromising as you settle into the relationship.

“Do you want to get married?” He murmurs in your ear one night a year and a half later, spooning you against his bare chest. The bedroom has a pile of moving boxes stacked in the corner - your first night in your new, shared apartment.

“Honestly? I don’t know,” you take one of his hands, fidget with his fingers. “What about you?”

“I don’t mind either way,” he grasps hold of your wrist and rolls you over in a smooth notion. “Whatever you want.”

“Uh-uh,” you correct, “we’re partners, remember?”

“Right. Whatever we want.” He kisses you then, slowly, as if he has the whole night to while away. He’s never in a rush when it comes to you, not any more.

“I love you.” You mumble between kisses, feeling him smile as he captures your lips once again.

“I love you, sweetheart. Always and forever.”

--

“Leon?”

“Huh?” He’s spaced out – Chris, Claire, the minister and you all staring expectantly at him.

“Got the rings, man?” Chris is holding out his hand, an amused smile on his face.

Right, the rings.

Best man hands over the rings.

He stuffs his hand into his trouser pocket and tugs out the little mesh bag they’d been placed in. He can’t imagine Chris wearing his for long, not with his line of work. Leon wouldn’t either, truth be told. He’d get a nice chain, maybe, have it hang over his heart.

Chris takes the bag with a nod of thanks and empties them out onto the minister’s book, big fingers fumbling to pick up the ring he’s about to slide on your finger, following the minister’s prompts in reciting his vows.

Leon stares at you as you look up into Chris’ eyes, smiling so much your cheeks must hurt, and tries not to think about how when you had looked at him like that, he’d left you the next morning with nothing but a note on the pillow.

--

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, if you would please be upstanding for the new Mr and Mrs Redfield!”

Leon hadn’t realized he’d be sat next to you at the top table. He hadn’t thought much about the reception at all, besides the speech Chris asked him to make.

But, fuck, you look so happy walking in with him that it takes his breath away. Your fingers interlaced, surrounded by cheers and applause. Redfield can’t help himself – Leon wouldn’t either - swings you around and dips you into a kiss in the middle of the floor. You look embarrassed when he releases you, but there’s a giddy smile on your face too.

He couldn’t give you that. He couldn’t. He’s not sure Redfield can either – setting you up for disappointment and heartbreak.

He doesn’t know why anyone else is seated at the top table – you and Chris only have eyes for each other throughout dinner. He drinks more than he eats, wondering if he can make Redfield regret putting on an open bar.

“Now, for the best man – Leon Kennedy.”

He pulls the notecard out of his jacket pocket as he stands - he’d started writing it so many times but never got particularly far. That morning, he’d searched generic best man speech on his phone and jotted it down.

“You’ll be pleased to know that I’ll be keeping this short and sweet – two words you probably wouldn’t use to describe Chris Redfield.” He pauses, polite laughter rippling through the crowd.

“There’s two things being celebrated here today. The first being that it’s finally been acknowledged that I am, in fact, the best man between us.” He pauses again, taking a pre-emptive swig of his drink to help dull the ache of the words to come.

“Secondly, of course, the union of this… wonderful couple. May your lives be filled with love and happiness. To the bride and groom!”

The guests raise their glass in unison and Leon sits down heavily in his seat, downing the rest of his drink as Chris stands up, thanking Leon for his speech and leading an applause. He picks up a champagne flute and looks down at you, adoringly.

“Truthfully, I’m wondering if I should’ve gone first, because mine’s even shorter than Leon’s. Thank you all so much for coming here today to celebrate with us. All that’s really left to say is, I love you, darling – always and forever.”

Chris bends down to steal another kiss and the guests applaud and cheer once again – Leon swears it’s louder than what his speech received.

“I love you so much, Chris.”

Leon wishes it had been louder still to drown out your response.

--

“You ready?” Chris murmurs into your ear before pressing a kiss against your jaw. You didn’t think it was possible – you’d never seen Chris drunk ever – but it seems the numerous glasses of champagne have gotten to his head. He’ll deny it in the morning if you accuse him, tell you it wasn’t the alcohol which was making him act that way, no, it was you that was making him love-drunk, before capturing your lips in a kiss.

You nod and squirm with a giggle, his stubble tickling your neck. You had sat down at the table for a breather, after completing a round of the tables to greet your guests as well as a couple of dances with your friends. You haven’t seen Leon since dinner and, truthfully, he’s the furthest thing from your mind ever since Chris slipped the ring on your finger. Your new husband takes your hand and grabs a chair with the other, leading you to the middle of the small dance floor and places it down. Once he’s happy, he lifts his other arm above his head to twirl you into position and down upon the chair.

You feel giddy – from love, champagne, happiness – as Chris kneels before you and gently begins to lift the hem of your dress up and over your knees.

Someone in the crowd wolf-whistles, probably one of the squad, and Chris turns in the direction to mockingly glare. He then resumes his work of pulling your dress up a little more, cautiously, until he found what he was looking for – a lacey white garter on your thigh.

Chris asking if you wanted to do the garter toss part of the ceremony had come completely out of left-field, so much so you were thankful you hadn’t taken a sip of your drink before he’d asked, lest you had spit it out in his face. He scratched the back of his head, gave you a dopey-looking smile that made you want to cuddle him rotten and said he wanted to do things by the book. He wanted the tradition, some sense of normalcy in his life with the whole white wedding, and having no strong feelings about it either way you’d agreed.

Now, though, as he looks up at you with that up-to-no-good smirk, you wonder if you should’ve said no.

“Hands or teeth?”

“Huh?”

He lightly pings the garter on your thigh. “Shall I remove it with my hands or teeth, darling?”

“Chris!” You laugh, sure he was joking.

He tilts his head. “Uh-uh. Pick, please.”

“Fine.” You smirk back, buoyed in confidence by the champagne. “Teeth.”

“Excellent choice, Mrs Redfield.” He plants a hand on your other leg to steady himself, before lowering his head and you feel his teeth graze your thigh as he nips the lacey material and begins to tug it down, all to the hooting and hollering of the assembled crowd.  

Leon takes a long sip of whiskey as he watches from the corner. He would’ve used his teeth to remove it too, but only in the sanctity of the bedroom later that night.

It flies over the heads and outstretched arms of the bachelors – Chris always did have a good throw - and eventually smacks Leon right in the chest.

“All right, Kennedy!” Somebody cheers, and before he can really think about it, he bends down and snatches up the garter, aware that the eyes of the room are on him. He holds it aloft in a mock display of triumph.

He looks for you then, wondering what you’ll think – a sign from the universe that you’ve made a mistake – but your eyes are fixed on Chris, cupping his face in your palms as he remains knelt in front of you, pressing a long kiss to his lips.

Leon stuffs the garter deep in his trouser pocket.

--

Leon doesn’t see either of you for six months – thanks to a relentless run of missions, intercontinental travel and briefings all keeping his mind occupied – and it helps dull the ache in his chest too.

An email pops up in his inbox though, inviting him to the Redfield’s housewarming BBQ in a couple of weeks, but he never replies to the RSVP.

Still, he finds himself parking his bike up outside the new house – it has a white picket fence, for fuck’s sake, nestled on a quiet suburban street. To his trained eye, he can see some additional security measures, so at least Redfield hasn’t become completely complacent. The gate clicks a little louder than usual when he opens it, probably linked to some sort of surveillance system, the panes of glass in the window are clearly bullet-proof and the front door is steel, disguised to blend in with the rest of the street.

He rings the doorbell – looking direct into the pinhole camera.

Chris answers soon after, a black apron on for grilling duties over blue jeans and a white tee. He looks good, annoyingly so compared to the dark rings Leon has under his own eyes, but he’s perhaps a little softer around the edges. Leon had heard down the grapevine that Chris had taken more of a consultant type role at the BSAA, office hours, trying to move away from always having his boots on the ground – something he never thought he’d see.

“Hey! You made it. It’s great to see you, man.” Chris greets him, a genuine smile on his face. “Perfect timing – I’m just about to fire up the grill. We’re all just out in the yard.”

He steps over the threshold – his eyes immediately finding the framed wedding photo on the hall table, the one where you’d all signed the registry and the photographer had Leon stand by your side and Claire by Chris’.

He wonders if, when you look at it, you can tell his smile is fake.

He doesn’t take in much else of the house as he’s led through, instead forcing himself to take a deep breath in preparation of seeing you again. He’s tried to forget about the kiss through a string of dates from the office and one-night stands, but he still has your stolen garter tucked in the back of his bedside drawer.

It’s over, he chastises himself.

It didn’t even really begin either.

You’re facing away from him when he follows Chris through the kitchen and out onto wooden decking, a set of stairs leading down to a large rectangle of grass. There’s a good 15 or so in attendance, only a handful of people present that he recognizes, some from the wedding, all congregated in little groups, a long table set up with bowls of salad, chips, rolls, sauces and other snacks, a bucket of ice, rapidly melting in the midday sun, in which various drinks are nestled.

You’re talking to Claire and a guy he doesn’t recognize, but he has his arm draped around her shoulders. You’re dressed in a sweet floral sundress, capped sleeves, white sandals. He wants to slip in to the conversation, no fuss, no announcement, but Chris has other ideas.

“Hey, Leon’s here!”

You turn at your husband’s call, a little surprised. Chris had told you he’d invited Leon, of course, but noted that he hadn’t accepted or denied. Really, you weren’t sure if he’d show at all, given what had happened at the wedding and the fact he’d been off-grid for so long after.

Those bright blue eyes only meet yours for a moment before they trail down to your stomach, and the protective hand you’ve placed on top of it – only a recent habit since your bump had properly popped.

“Oh, yeah,” Chris chuckles, clocking on to exactly what Leon is staring at. He slaps him on the back, ushering him forward as he does. Leon wants to dig his heels in, maybe if he keeps his distance it won’t be real and only a trick of perspective, but his legs won’t co-operate.

“Sorry, should’ve said - turns out we brought more back than souvenirs from the honeymoon.”

Claire groans. “Are you going to use that line on everyone, Chris? It’s too early for you to be cracking out dad jokes.” She takes a swig of her beer, before nodding at Leon. “Hey.”

Leon nods in Claire’s direction, but his eyes are still fixed on you.

“Leon.” You smile, a little worried at how much colour has drained from the agent’s face. “We’re so glad you could make it. It’s been ages!”

“I…” He swallows, shaking his head a little as if he could shake off the feeling of disbelief. “Congratulations. On the house and the… baby.”

Redfield smirks as he steps over from Leon’s side to yours, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in close to press a kiss to your temple. “Thanks, bud. Gotta admit, I’m feeling a pretty lucky guy.”

“The luckiest.”

Chris cocks his head at the lack of sarcasm, almost put off by how genuine Leon sounded.

“Sorry, is there any more beer?” Someone he doesn’t recognize – one of yours or Chris’ other friends, maybe – interrupts.

“Of course! I’ll go get it.” You barely make it a step out of Chris’ embrace before he wraps his hand around your arm and stills you with a furrowed brow.

“Babe, we tal-“

“We talked about me carrying heavy things.” You correct with a feigned huff. “The baby will be heavier than a box of beer.”

Chris looks apologetic. “All I was gonna say is you need to be careful – don’t want you wearing yourself out and missing the party.” Leon feels a stabbing pain once again in his chest as he watches Redfield cup your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “Let’s be honest, darling, you’re usually on your second nap by this time.”

You pout, more so annoyed that Chris is right. The move, plus the second trimester had you feeling permanently fatigued. “True, but-”

“Let me go grab the beer,” Leon interrupts and Chris drops his hand from your face, as if he just realized Leon was still there. “Just tell me where.”

You frown at his offer. “You’re a guest.”

“A lousy guest - didn’t even bring a housewarming gift,” he berates himself. “Being the beer lackey can be it.”

“You didn’t need to get us anything – your company’s gift enough.” You place a hand on his arm and squeeze in reassurance - he swears his heart skips a beat. “It’s probably easier if I show you where. Come on.”

“Thanks, Leon.” Chris pats him on the back and turns to the grill, declaring it hot enough to finally start cooking.

Leon follows you, dutifully, back up the steps onto the decking, one hand poised ready to steady you if need be. You lead him towards the opposite end of the kitchen and towards the pantry, hesitating before you open the door.

“I’m sorry, if this was a shock.” You jerk your chin down at your stomach. “We were just sorta telling people as and when we saw them, rather than do any real big announcement.”

“Yet you announced the house?”

You smile, wryly. “I think Chris just wanted an excuse to buy that grill. He’s trying out lots of hobbies. I caught him looking up ride-on mowers the other night.”

“Heard he’s office-based now.” There’s a beat and it comes out before he can even think, always ready to justify his actions even when no-one’s called for it. “I couldn’t have done that for you.”

Suddenly, you’re thrown back to that hour before your wedding – something you truthfully hadn’t thought of until this moment.

“You think I asked Chris to do that? That I demanded a wedding and a house and a baby and…” Your voice cracks a little before you take a deep breath. Your emotions are high strung enough at the moment with the pregnancy and you try to compose yourself, digging your nails into your palms.

“You know what? No – I’m not going through this again. Relationships are about compromises on both sides, it’s unfortunate that’s what you still don’t seem to understand.”

You slide open the pantry door then, pointing to the back where a couple of boxes of beer are stacked, in amongst tubs of protein powder. “Just grab any of those, please. I’ll see you outside.”

Leon’s hand wraps around your wrist as you step away. It isn’t a firm grip by any means, just holding you loosely in place. “Just tell me one thing - are you happy?”

“I’m really happy, Leon.” You reply without a beat’s hesitation, because you are. “I hope one day you allow yourself to be happy too.”

He doesn’t say anything to that, only drops his grip on your wrist and turns into the pantry in the guise of retrieving the beer. It’s only when he hears you step back out onto the decking that he bends to pick up the box, half wondering if he should just quietly leave now.

No, that would only cause you grief, surely. He’s done enough of that.

After a few moments have passed, he lifts up the box and heads out, pulling the door shut to the pantry behind him. He heads back out into the yard, pausing at the top of the stairs to see you back at your husband’s side, laughing at something he’s said, looking up at him like he’s everything.

Chris wraps his arms around you, helping you up to your tip-toes so he can kiss you as passionately as he did on the wedding day, and every day since.

Claire wonders, loudly, whether your honeymoon phase will ever be over, but she’s smiling as she says it.

Leon silently carries over the box and opens it, adding a couple more cans of beer to the ice bucket before Claire hands him an open one, proposing a toast to the new house and baby Redfield.

Instead, Leon toasts to the life he could’ve had.

--

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

Comments and reblogs make my whole day x

[inspiration-fodder]

Defiant Creation in the Modern Era

We exist in unprecedented times, a time of abundant potential, and devastating pitfalls. We are living at a time when media platforming and artificial intelligence open vast opportunities, while simultaneously crushing creators, and rendering jobs in the creative arts obsolete.

As an aspiring writer, I cannot help but feel overwhelmed and defeated in this current landscape. However, well before the transition to streaming platforms, and the explosive expansion of AI, many artists explored the angst of being muted by seemingly overwhelming force, be it government or religious authority. “Coffin Fodder”, a song by the English symphonic metal band ‘Cradle of Filth’ brings awareness of nurturing the creative muse. In the modern era, this song serves as an appeal to keep the spirit of creativity alive, in this age the future of creative arts is uncertain, but we still possess devotion to the craft.

To properly frame the hypothesis regarding the uncertain future of the arts, I present this excerpt, “ The writers’ attempt at bargaining over AI is perhaps the most high-profile labor battle yet to address concerns about the cutting-edge technology that has captivated the world’s attention in the six months since the public release of ChatGPT. Goldman Sachs economists estimate that as many as 300 million full-job jobs globally could be automated in some way by the newest wave of AI.” (Kelly, 2023 ) With such rapid changes in the creative landscape, it’s fair to assume many creators began to feel despair.

Lyrical Analysis

The time has come

To rise again

Freedom lift thy sewered hem

Free from beasts and skewered men.

In the opening verses, Filth appeals that now is the time. Time to lift the constraints placed upon the creator. Sewered hem is a unique poetic phrase to interpret but invokes to mind a garment soaked in filth. A being of lowly status that’s trudged through the sewers of the lower class. Freedom from beasts can apply to the upper class or freedom from religious authority. Freedom from skewered men alludes to freedom from religious martyrs often within Christianity.

My dreams unroll

Ten thousand fold

Their world will never take me

They will never desecrate my soul.

The artist's aspirations are unchained, a force far greater than that which controlled it. The imposed restrictions of the world cannot extinguish the artist's muse.

The stars I have grasped

Are so far lonely constellations

And wishing on those stars

My spirit bars annihilation

The symbology of the stars means everything from hope to despair poetically speaking. Here they are represented as sparks of inspiration, lonely gleams of hope in which one can channel their spirit, and save it from destruction. Grasping only constellations invokes a feeling of only holding illusions, as the constellations are imaginary.

From earthen miseries

Hosts of most fell forms of greed

Ghosts of pearly gate remissions

Forever haunting me

From man-made evils, the artist is subjected to greed. Here I begin to see a personal, modern interpretation of AI and capitalistic greed. A human-created force populates, and reforms artistic expression. Not only is the artist restrained by modern advancements, but by religious leadership suppressing humanity with an appeal to heaven. Heaven is also an artificially constructed concept.

Slit the witch and watch him bleed

As with any inquisition

Lying from the start

The preachers piled their craft

Scoffing elder glories

And dying, I depart

To make their sunken hearts

A coffin for their stories

In this verse, Filth uses a poignant allusion to witch hunts persecuting the artist without regard to gender. The use of greed, lies, slander, and dogma harms the artist either through bodily harm or loss of financial security. But holding tightly to the fire within, the artist flees with a vengeance. To ‘make their sunken hearts a coffin for their stories' as quoted. This harkens to the title of the song, the coffin fodder. The inquisitorial forces' insidious hearts are doomed to collapse from the weight of their avarice. Thus corrupted greed feeds the coffin.

The time is past

The falter when

Freedom slips my sombre pen

And the gates to wolves break open then

My feelings may

Seem constant prey

But claws no more will rake me

A passage of time occurs, and the artist's brief refuge has yielded a liberating creative endeavor summoned from the pen when again persecution breaks down the sanctuary. The artist's emotions and drives are the prey items of the symbolic wolves, but their spirit still resists. Despite all that would silence and destroy them, they keep creating.

Those whores have fled to darker days

Above and beyond

I have wronged in my position

But now the winds are strong

To soar from Babel's vision

Of cutthroat jealousies

The artist admits they are flawed and haven’t always spoken with immaculate elegance, but this is merely the price of being a human. This is part of freedom of expression.

Dock to dock these mongrels breed

Dogs of fogged derision

Pacing, soon to be

Back to pack mentality

From every angle, the persecution follows, whilst the very spirit of humanity becomes submissive to a pack leader, a religious leader, or corporate regulation.

When my killing moon is risen

Trying from the start

These creatures of the dark

Were quaffing morning glories

When the artist's plot of vengeance manifests, they find the inquisitors inebriated with morning glories, a clever choice of words. Morning glory seeds can be consumed in a manner that causes LCD like hallucinations that can be very debilitating. In finding the inquisitors in this state, it’s inferred that the ruling body is hypocritical and weak-willed.

And dying, I depart

To make their drunken hearts

A coffin for their stories

In this verse, the word dying could allude to death within the artist or vengeance upon the subjects hunting their passion. They deliver retribution meant to show the ruling class the consequences of their greed.

Innovation in ovation

Imagination stirs

Somewhere the dusk is lining

Red the shore of a roaring sea

While the artist is detested, they also possess admiration, and praise, which makes the struggle worth the effort. The dusk turning the sea red could describe their macabre imagination and depthless wells of inspiration. Dusk is symbolic of both a beginning and the end, as is the sea, coupled with unpredictability and constant danger.

And though loved there is someone who is pining

For the waves of blood to run and rescue me

For the waves of blood to run and rescue me

To run and run and run and run

While the artist adores this inspirational well, it holds a luring siren call. Their very craft could submerge the psyche, and drown them, or ‘rescue’ them from themselves. To save them from the agony of being a defiant being in a world full of constraint and challenge.

The time has come

To rise again

Freedom lift thy sewered hem

Free from beasts and skewered men

My dreams unroll

Ten thousand fold

Their world will never take me

They will never desecrate my soul

Their world will never break me

They will never desecrate my soul

In a recent interview with the band's frontman Dani Filth unveiled the realities of being a musician in today's world and dispelled myths that a consumer's constant access to music, musicians rarely live a glamorous life, with much of the profit never reaching the creator. “He concludes: "Yeah, the music industry is on its knees at the moment. I still enjoy making music — don't get me wrong; I love it — but, yeah, the musician nowadays is finding a million things against them. It's a hard time." (Scarlett, 2023) We are entering a confusing, and uncertain age of advanced technology, one that like other revolutions will lead to promising pathways and the erasure of others, but songs with messages of defiant creation creation remind the human spirit not to extinguish in face of uncertainty. There is currently no clear path for the future of creators, but at the very least, we still possess the fires of inspiration.

Works Cited

"Coffin Fodder Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2023. Web. 30 Jul 2023. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/7254898/Cradle+of+Filth/Coffin+Fodder>.

Kelly, S. M. (2023, May 4). TV and film writers are fighting to save their jobs from AI. they won’t be the last | CNN business. CNN. https://www.cnn.com/2023/05/04/tech/writers-strike-ai/index.html

Scarlett, L. (2023, June 19). Cradle of Filth’s Dani Filth: “Spotify are the biggest criminals in the world...we had 26 million plays last year and I got about 20 pounds.” louder. https://www.loudersound.com/news/dani-filth-says-spotify-are-biggest-criminals

[rockium-z]

so uh... entity neo

what's it about?

im wondering if I should read it or not

*cracks knuckles* Oh boy, are you in for a ride. Buckle up, friend!

Entity NEO is an Undertale fancomic where Napstablook winds up possessing and becoming corporeal in Mettaton’s body after he dies to Frisk/Chara on the genocide route, and with them surviving that encounter, angst ensues and that sets up the premise for the rest of the story. In the aftermath, they find new faces and new friends, and learn to put the pieces of their life back together, even as their complicated relationship with their late cousin continues to haunt them and not long later, another human falls into the Underground and shakes everything up.

This comic primarily focuses on Napstablook, Alphys, Sans and Mettaton as main characters, though there are quite a few original characters introduced later on as either side characters or minor characters that play a larger role in certain chapters, and some canon characters who aren’t dead by the end of chapter 1 (there’s Flowey and the amalgamates and that’s as far as I know). Much of the story is built on its character dynamics and the exploration of these relationships — for instance, Napstablook’s relationship with Mettaton continues to evolve as they learn more about him and draw their conclusions long after his death, shaping much of their character arc, and along the way they slowly warm up to Alphys, who takes them in (pseudo-adopts them?) after the events of the premise, and to Sans, who helps them back on their feet when shit hits the fan for them, both emotionally and literally. Alphys copes with the fact that all her close friends, save Sans, are dead, and with the burden of her rise to power, as well as having a new friend to take care of. Sans deals with his own losses and increased responsibilities as a result of becoming Alphys’s right-hand man. That’s the basic rundown of the major relationships in play.

Now, to answer your question: should you read this?

Short answer: hell yes.

Longer answer (under the cut):

I still stand by my sentiment of hell yes, though you may want to keep in mind the generally dark themes present in this story as a result of its premise. There’s quite a bit of death, some pages with potentially disturbing/eyestrain content such as guns, scopophobia, flashing gifs, traumatic flashbacks and the like, but assuming you can stomach that, Entity NEO handles its backdrop of trauma and grief masterfully. Even though these themes are always lurking, sometimes in the foreground, sometimes more subtly, the story manages to strike a good balance between angst and lighter moments and humor, and portrays these themes in a way that’s both poignant and authentic.

I’ve mentioned previously that character dynamics form the bulk of the plot, and make the story what it is — that’s because the comic treats all its characters with the respect they deserve. The canon characters remain largely consistent with their characterizations in-game, and their growth and changes throughout the story are believable, fleshes them out and gives them an interesting amount of depth that’s fun to ponder. Meanwhile, the original characters are unique, yet are written in a way such that they fit right into the world, from the monster characters having bearing on the story to the humans that fall in having sympathetic arcs. And with all its relationships in place, it’s portrayed with intriguing layers and nuances that make these dynamics hella fun to interpret, and so damn exciting to read about — canon or original, they vibe and create an impact on each other that drives the plot forward.

Am I going to mention art style? Guess I’ll mention art style beyond my opinion that it looks good — the monochrome and sharp lines really get the darker themes of this story across, and make the moments with color stand out all the more.

And miscellaneous things I’d like to mention — at present, the story stands at 24 chapters and feels like it’s going to go on for a lot longer more, and with that much to read there’s plenty of secrets hidden and lots of things to discover with subsequent reads (I keep finding little details and I’m pretty damn deep into reread hell). The creators are wonderful people and are incredibly passionate about this comic, and no matter how long I’ll have this hyperfixation, I’m sure I’ll be happy to ride this train wherever it goes.

So if you’re looking for an angsty, well-written story with a concept that’s out of left field, you absolutely should read this.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk!

[theangelmojo]

Watching mdzs for the... idontknowwhatnumberitis-th time, and

I just noticed that in ep 2, where Lan Qiren is picking on Wei Ying in class (for being, well... Wei Ying), he poses a scenario for him to decide what he’d do in that situation, and the description is:

“There was an executioner with parents, a wife, and children. He executed over a hundred people in his lifetime. He died a sudden death, his body left on the streets for 7 days. With the build-up of resentful energy, he started to haunt and kill. What should be done?”

...

I don’t know about you, and whether or not it is just me nitpicking at details (because there are a delightful abundance of symbolism and easter eggs all over the place) since this is the nth watching, but does this not sound like a description of Wei Ying to you?

Like, not exactly, but:

“An executioner” = a job which requires killing lots of people, questionable whether it has an effect on a person’s conscience, stigmas against death associated with it, tends to require a certain type of person -> Yiling Patriarch

“Parents” = ok, so Wei Ying’s have always been dead, but at one point he had pseudo-adoptive/fostering-parents. They’re also dead now too, but still -> Jiang clan

“A wife” = ...ahahahahaha! So the norm is to put Wei Ying in that descriptor, but in any case, shall we say spouse? No doubts who that one is.

“Children” = ok this one is in italics purely to convey me being utterly distraught. My poor sad babies. Technically this one could just be Lan Sizhui, but there are other delicate, sweet, innocent people I can think of who Wei Ying took under his wing. Do I need to name this sweet cinnamon roll or is it implicitly understood?

“He executed over a hundred people in his lifetime” = no actual headcount but pretty sure that one’s a yes

“He died a sudden death, his body left on the streets for 7 days.” =  if 7 days equals 13 freaking years then also yes. The sudden death part... idk. I’d actually interpret that part to be referencing more the suddenness of the deaths of the people around Wei Ying during the Sunshot Campaign, which leads onto the next point...

“With the build-up of resentful energy, he started to haunt and kill.” = so this is where my whole shitpost is stretching, but that’s where I take the “sudden death” part and link it to this part, because all those losses are arguably what built up inside Wei Ying (whilst he was alive though) and lead to his demonic cultivation, wherein he later haunted and pretty much slaughtered the Wens

“What should be done?”

Immediately after this, the scene cuts to Nie HuieSang. Ain’t gonna expand on that point, but the significance is like, poignant.

Then Lan Qiren asks for Lan Zhan’s answer, which is:

“First, liberate him. Appeal to his sentiment towards his family. Grant his dying wish and relieve any lingering obsessions. If it fails, suppress him. If his crimes are grave and resentful energy persists, exterminate him. Cultivators should abide by this in their exorcisms without fail.”

The first three sentences are like, check - check - and check. 

Wei Ying’s memory issues sort of liberate him when he is reincarnated, in that he has a sort of buffer so that he doesn’t keel over immediately upon returning to the mortal plane from all the angst he has accumulated in his previous life. It sort of frees him to approach his new, second life with more of a stable mindset.

His sentiment towards his family? You don’t need to appeal to Wei Ying for that. He does that all on his own. Even with the memory issues, his gradual recollection brings with it his characteristic sense of duty towards them.

Grant his dying wish and lingering obsessions -- not gonna expand on that either. 

...

Is my shitpost valid, guys?

Am I overthinking/overanalysing a really pointless thing?

Well, I know I am, but I can’t help but admire the set-up of all the episodes in the donghua. The director/scriptwriters/whole friggin team who made this series are geniuses. After watching DongHua Reviews on Youtube dissect this masterpiece and, frankly, cry over its beauty, I’m in the mood to put on the binoculars and examine MDZS to a molecular level.

Because I ain’t had enough of this series, but I’m too lazy to start reading the novel seriously. 

[loki-of-war]

On the future of TWD

(EDIT: Reposting due to a formatting error)

So I’ve seen a lot of people commenting and sharing their opinions lately on how Chandler’s departure will affect the show, if it will survive this hit or not, for how many seasons more will TWD run, etc, etc. And I decided, now that I’m thinking more rationally (I hope) and I’m able to form understandable sentences, to share my honest thoughts with you lovely people on this entire mess.

Which is as follows: I give the show a minimum lifespan of ten seasons (meaning, the show will end in two more seasons) and a maximum of twelve seasons in total. This is my verdict, feel free to disagree with me.

Now onto explaining why I think this is so:

I can sort of see why old fans who left and people who have never liked Carl or feel lukewarm about him are happy this death is going to happen. But on the other side I'm thinking this kind of mentality is the reason why the show gets away with terrible decisions and why they keep making them over and over, declining in quality. I don't think it's right to condone mediocrity; this is from someone like me who has stayed on the TWD's side so far hoping they'd find the right footing at some point this season  (then, obviously, because why wouldn’t they, my patience and tolerance was rewarded with this haha). And as I mentioned in a previous comment I made on YT, no matter what the public's feelings for Carl are, they won't change the importance of his role in the plot and his fundamental connection to Rick (this latter element has an effect on the whole cast, for better or for worse).

But anyway, Carl's death is going to change the entire mood of the series from now on so it definitely will never be as it once was and I think because of that the story will slowly bleed out. I mean, Carl has been the greatest determinator for every single one of Rick's decisions the entire show, and not only that but what he symbolised as a character, the hope for a better future, is gone now. What do children, sons, daughters, symbolise in every universal story? The next generation, what comes after, that not everything is going to be screwed up forever; especially after seeing how unmerciful TWD's world has proven to be for children and having Carl be the only exception to this 'kids cannot survive this world' rule has sort of become a moot point thanks to the...current circumstances.

Rick's and Lori's speeches to Carl in seasons 2 and 3 respectively justify this way of thinking: that after everyone from their generation (the adults) dies, Carl will have to take the reins and move on. I refuse to believe any writer with common sense would write such important pieces of dialogue just because they felt like it, just because they're emotional words without any other kind of meaning behind them. That is just lazy and awful writing in my opinion. Why write these poignant moments only to have the kid killed long before the end of the series? Why write/do anything if those things are going to be ignored later down the line, nevermind that every piece in a story must connect with the others? Why bother teaching him this morality lessons if they're all going to go to waste anyway; if he will never have a character arc/storyline that is plot relevant where his morals are challenged? (Good on you, whoever made the call, for missing out on possible great storylines for Carl that would have improved viewing and the quality of the show). That doesn't make a bit of sense, unless that what they were looking for was to give the events leading up to his sudden death some twist of irony, and that'd be perfect and all, except that Carl dying was so not part of the plan (the improvisation is so obvious it hurts me in the balls I don't have) and even the way his death was set up was graceless-the bite- and not something one would expect from the same people who made/directed/wrote/produced Season 4. In other words, killing him was basically flipping off the idea of a future in the face, whether they meant to do that or not, and this is bound to turn the overall mood the series to a much grim and darker tone to an already heavy themed and toned series. Many people won't find themselves too content with that heavier tonal change, I think, if the ratings for season 7 are to be trusted.

Ignoring that the conclusion to this was having him die though,  I do have to say the actual set up in the mid season finale itself was beautiful and emotional (Chandler's acting was on point, he was the star of this episode), but the chain of actions leading up to it was lackluster. With lackluster I mean that he is a very important character that has literally been wasted for far too long; if you look at his progression throughout the seasons you'll realize he has not done much from a plot perspective despite being a main character. Therefore, his death feels unsatisfactory and empty because one can't help but feel that he hasn't nearly done as much as he should have. What he did to save his people in the mid season finale was amazing but it wasn't enough to make up for a notorious lack of screen time over full eight seasons, moreover if the motivations that drove him to that point, to that mentality, to that philosophy, don't make sense because his personality has made a one eighty from how he was the previous season with no type of prior explanation as to why that happened.

It may not seem like it but I'm actually a huge fan of angst and favorite-character-slaughter. I love when books, music, movies, videogames, series make me suffer (great examples of this are my undying love for Hannibal the tv show and that my favorite videogames are the ones directed by this one man, life destroyer actually, called Yoko Taro). Perhaps that is another reason why I'm being so critical with the choice to kill Carl (asides from the horrible decision-making and poor writing), because I love being hit in the feels in the best way possible, without holding back any punches, just go straight for the kill and make me cry like a newborn. However, I don't like tragedy when it's done for shock value, or when it's done simple-mindedly. If a favorite character of mine is going down, it has to make sense and they must have had filled out their purpose in the story, reached a state of character development we're all satisfied with so that when they die one can accept it and be happy despite the possible trauma that could ensue after (well, one can't exactly pin point when that happens, when enough is enough, but to have had the character embark on a lot of adventures even without them accomplishing their purpose, is enough to embrace their death). I guess what I'm trying to say with all this is that, while on one hand I would have preferred him outliving everybody else, if they were still so adamant on having him die at some point of the story (as if killing Carl had actually been part of a long term plan and not some last minute decision) they should have developed him first and foremost, and then assign him a proper death in later seasons, most preferably before the last season ends given that him dying before Rick is several different levels of wrong; if he wasn't such a huge part of Rick's character then fine, do it, but putting and end to him is equal to neutralizing Rick for literally years, which is time that both a comic and a tv show cannot afford, so to do it near the end of everything would be a better fit.

And, I don't know, even having Judith fill the void won't be of much help either, because we haven’t and we won't see her grow the same way we did Carl, her relationship with Rick will be vastly different, and so on. Probably this is just me but I'm not really attached to her; Judith so far is to me only a concept and not actually a person (yet). The fact that they keep changing the little baby girls who portray her doesn't really help, that gets me out of the story everytime. She just can't replace Carl, she might take his future storylines but it won't be the same. Besides, by the time she grows up, she’ll already be deep into this world, this is her normal life and probably by that time things will have changed.

So basically, not only in killing Carl they destroyed the image of a future, they have killed a foundational part of the essence that made The Walking Dead be The Walking Dead we all knew and loved, and that will never return. Also, allow me to point out that for those who think that The Walking Dead is about people dying whenever and wherever, and the cruel injustice that is life, I am not going to say that your interpretation is wrong but it is an incomplete one. The audience doesn’t watch TWD only to see tons of MC’s get murdered on a daily basis. Otherwise, why bother with investing time on a plot and just have them all killed at once. The soul of TWD is not about senseless killing and murder and tragedy and sadness. Simplifying it all to ‘this show is about the possibility of anybody dying/gore/zombies/etc’ is a great disservice to the show and the fans. Obviously, I am not neither the writer of the show or Robert Kirkman to claim to know to a T what the central theme of The Walking Dead is, and for full disclosure I have not read the comics. Nonetheless, basing my personal opinion on the tv show alone, I would like to think one of the core themes the show has explored and returns to time and time again is the topic in regards to the essence of human nature, and how in spite of apparent doom and the horrible circumstances we are forced to face, humans will always find the way to move forwards and stay strong, ergo, the message is a positive one, not a negative one, depressing, nihilistic one. And what better character to portray this versatility of human nature, this capacity for change, other than Carl Grimes, a child of transition, a child who was pulled out of his normal childhood and thrown right into the chaos of the apocalypse? A boy who has witnessed inhumane things, horrible things, has killed his mother, his second father figure, has done awful things himself, has always been toeing the line between right and wrong, cruel and kind, because of all the experiences he has had to process in a very short period of time? He was obligated to grow in a decaying world, watching his father and the ones surroundind him make mistakes, learning from them, evolving, seeing close ones die, starving, surviving insane experiences... If someone like that manages to grow in such a hostile environment and still remains true to himself and still has not lost faith in the world and humanity, and keeps close all the meaningful, important things his family and friends told him in the course of his entire life and not only that, but also applies them... What does that mean for you, to you? What does it mean for us? What does it say about human nature that hasn’t been told before or not quite in this manner?

Well, that is the point. I guess we will never get to find out in the Tv Show the answer to those questions. Regrettably.

If, and just if, the show manages to recover from this point onwards, I still have no idea how I'd feel about having the show thrive on the tails of throwing under the bus such a key character with no legitimate reasons behind the choice (don't even get me started on what they've done to poor Chandler). I'll still watch the show but I would be incredibly uncomfortable if that is how it turns out to be.

Finally, I apologize for any grammar mistakes or awkward phrasing you may find, it’s way too late to be doing such a long post and English is not my main language. Please don’t be afraid or feel awkward about replying to this post, even if it’s to hate on it. I really don’t mind having a long conversation about this topic with you all since I’ve literally been dying since Sunday night to discuss it.

Thank you so much for reading!

[itsladykit]

30. What inspires you to write? 42. List and link to 5 fanfiction authors who are amazing: 51. Rant or Gush about one thing you love or hate in the world of fanfiction! Go!

This is far too long, so I put it below the cut. (Questions are from this list.)

30: …this one is hard to answer, honestly. Particularly since I sometimes feel less “inspired” to write and more “compelled”. Anything that gives me strong feelings about a character, situation, or headcanon will make me itch to incorporate it into a story. That can be artwork or another fic, or even a shitpost or a particularly poignant headcanon. I also find that stress or strong negative feelings (anger, sadness, etc) can really get me inspired to write. Writing is very empowering, very therapeutic. It’s how I exercise my demons, since I can’t find a hamster wheel large enough for them. 

42: I can only pick five?!? Geeze, Bourbon. Go for the throat, huh? Okay. I’ll try. (There’s going to be more than five. I’m calling it now.) These aren’t in any particular order, by the way.

1.) Askellie: Their stuff is dark and often disturbing, but so beautifully executed that it makes me melt every time. If you’ve got the stomach for darker content, then please check them out. (Content warning: mind their tags. Their stuff can be intense.)

2.) ReaderRose: I love how they portray Papyrus, and their angst is so heart-rending it’s amazing.

3.) Shadow_of_Quill: They have interesting headcanons and explore them in very interesting ways. I highly recommend their  Biomagical Manufacturing series. It’s utterly gorgeous and fascinating. (Content warning: Again, some of their stuff is pretty intense.)

4.) tealmoon: Their exploration of nonsexual kink is amazing, and their angst and fluff are both on point. And I will forever love their interpretation of Underswap. (Content warning: Once more, some of their material is intense or upsetting.)

5.) nilchance: I utterly adore their Fellcest. It’s not fluffy. It’s not sweet. It’s not the way things should be, but it’s the way things have to be and you can sense the undercurrents of love and care. (Another content warning for this one.)

(Yep. More than five.)

6.) Anonymonimus: Their interpretation of Underfell is inspiring.

7.) maximum_overboner: Their stuff is so damn funny. I even read their Villainous fics, and I’m not part of the fandom. Seriously, literal tears rolled down my cheeks I was laughing so damn hard while reading “Fancymilk”. If you’re a fan of dark humor, check them out. (…yeah. Content warning.) 

8.) Ravvi: Their Lamia AU is adorable and cute (and just angsty enough), but they definitely aren’t afraid to explore darker themes either. They’re considered in their writing and well-researched, and I highly respect them for that alone. (You guessed it. Content warning.)

9.) SansyFresh: …do I even need to say anything about Fresh? Do I really even need to say that I adore their headcanons? Or that I love how they write literally all the skeletons? (Or that they’re just a legitimately nice person.) No. I really don’t, because I’m certain all of you already know that.

10.) ollie_oxen_free: Ollie doesn’t like compliments, so I’m not allowed to gush. They’re funny. That’s all I’m going to say.

11.) CrushingOnSans: Their ideas are so intriguing and interesting. They have amazing banter between their characters, and their dialogue is top-notch. Their angst is utterly crushing, though, so be warned. 

12.) alicedragons: The master of spicyhoney. Their fluff is sweet and poignant, and their angst hits hard. (And their smut is really delicious, too.)

…okay, I’m stopping now. I tried for five. And I managed to cut it down to 12. That’s not so bad, right? (There are people I left out, but just cruise through my bookmarks on AO3. I literally recommend everyone on that list. That includes you, CheapBourbon. I told you “distal phalanges” stayed with me, and I meant it. …Damnit. That’s 13 now, isn’t it?)

51: Oh, man. I try not to rant, honestly? Usually I save up all that negative energy and just pour it into my fics. That’s literally where all my salt goes. So I’ll gush instead. I love, love, love all the different character interpretations and headcanons. Even (maybe ‘especially’ would be the better word) the ones that are different from my own. Yes, there are headcanons or interpretations that I don’t like, and I just side-step those fics as I come across them. Otherwise, I love seeing characters and worlds through different lenses. I think that’s one of the things I like most about the AUs; they invite authors and artists to get really creative with their interpretations.

[lunamanar]

have any favorite au's for FFVIII? bit of an au junkie here

AUs…yes, but they’re all mine, or shared AUs, haha, so I don’t have any fics to point you to, if that’s what you’re asking (again, I am not a good person to ask for fic recs because I am painfully slow to read…when I have the time, I prefer to write). All of them are pretty Squall/Rinoa-centric, still. That part never changes. 

But, to name a few: 

- I have an expansive headcanon about witch/sorceress history and what things were like before Centra was ruined by the Cry. While I think it plays just fine with canon in its own right, it’s just kinda fun for me to imagine Squall and Rinoa living in that time, instead of the game’s timeframe. I actually have several half-finished AUs which have them running into each other, under various circumstances, in that distant past. Of course, I set it up for them to have a relationship, haha, but the venue is just different enough, it’s a good way to explore their relationship in a slightly different way. For instance, in my past headcanon, Hyne’s descendants were both revered, and had acquired a totalitarian grip on the world’s political bodies, in spite of their relatively small numbers. They were seen as demigods, and feared as such…and their behavior as a ruling class, if not as a unified group, only served to fuel those fears. They enslaved people as it suited them, even bred and trained prospective Knights and kidnapped women who were known to be capable of receiving Hyne’s power to make bodyguards of them–all to ensure that they would have a source of augmented power/stability from the former, and someone to take their powers should they die, in the latter. It was how they maintained their power. 

But, Not All Sorceresses, yadda yadda. While being raised in one of these very political families, my AU!Rinoa came to despise the whole thing and figured on taking it all down. Depending on the exact story I was writing–I must have started over 15 or 20 times–Squall’s role was always a little different. In one version, he was part of an organized faction bent on hunting sorceresses to their extinction, and had met Rinoa while undercover at a fete–and yeah, a dance, har har–but stuff happened, his ‘mission’ was ruined, his base of operations destroyed, and…he really had nowhere to go, no one to contact. Except her. He knew enough to know she was a rebel among sorceresses (and in this story she’d been one since her mother died). He took a risk and sought her out. Story story blah blah blah from there. 

In another version, he was one of slaves, either kidnapped or bred (the former in his case) for the express purpose of being a Knight Prospect…or if he failed to be chosen, a soldier in a sorceress’s army, or a gladiator, or at the very least, a disposable source of energy, depending on which sorceress was buying. This one branches out even further…in one variation, he was chosen by a reluctant Rinoa, as much to pull him out of those abusive conditions as because she admittedly liked him. In another, she lived near the “school” which trained him and they bumped into each other when she’d escaped her home at night in an angry huff after a fight with her father and tutors; he was hiding out on the edge of a recreational area, avoiding various other people on his campus. Both scenarios made for some really good dialogue bits, and I like playing with the idea of sorceresses as being viewed as a sort of natural, even inevitable predator, when they were in their prime as a political force. It puts some weight on a particular aspect of Squall and Rinoa’s relationship that is very important to me (and which I guard jealously, if I’m honest). 

In yet another version, he was unrelated to any of that, and was just a sort of no-one’s-man, having spent his life living with and, ultimately, caring for Ellone after she herself became a sorceress. She fought the power…and it slowly ate her alive because of it. He knew nothing about it, had no access to the education he’d need to help her, so he watched her wither away. When she eventually died, he was consumed by grief, and wandered for quite some time before Rinoa found him (by chance, because I’m the writer and I said so dammit). Or he found her. Another variation, but it doesn’t matter too much, either way. In this scenario, he has nothing left. He either sees her coming for him, and figuring she’s probably going to kill him, puts up a surprising fight before collapsing under her power, or he sees her first, and after a great deal of consideration, comes out of the shadows and, when he can be coaxed to speak, more or less gives himself up, once again imagining she’ll just drain him to death like sorceresses are known to do. Of course, that doesn’t quite happen. 

Oh, and it’s not uncommon for other characters to follow them to these once-removed universes, but for the purposes of answering your question, it’s easier to just focus on how it affects Rinoa and Squall.

You can find similar themes in both my AUs and my canon-based fanfiction…Maaayyybe it’s because, from a writing standpoint, I came to this fandom from a horror fiction perspective…though I wouldn’t classify most of my FFVIII writing as horror, mind–it’s actually a departure from the sort of story I’m typically drawn to–but I’m kind of fascinated with both tension and resolution in violent power dynamics, and predator/prey symbiosis is a big one for me. There’s a lot about FFVIII’s world that sets up and leaves a lot of room for that sort of relationship between both Hyne’s power and its host, as well as sorceresses and their knights. 

Obviously, that’s my headcanon/interpretation, but it’s one of the things I saw right away when I first played the game, and it’s stuck with me ever since. So any time I wander off into an AU to sandbox with an idea, that concept is never too far away. The scenery changes, the timeframe, sometimes even the world they’re living in, regardless of the context, Squall and Rinoa are just perfect for messing around with power dynamics in relationships, for a lot of reasons, and while that’s certainly not all I write about in regards to them–no no no, there’s plenty of teen angst and abandonment issues and poignant connection and entertaining domestics and all of that is important to me, too–it definitely is a mainstay, and I enjoy exploring it under a multitude of different lenses and filters. 

[rakuraiwielder]

I'm working on your ask, but here's some for you: I, A, M, S, P, O, T

Ask prompt here: x

thanks puffin!! this is gonna be long and nostalgic eyy

I - HasTumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why? 

I wouldn’t say “actively dislike” butthe toxicity of fandom on this website has sucked away most of my passion for Voltron lol. I used to really dig itthe first month or so after getting really into it when S2 aired. I still havean unfinished draft for a 7-parter rarepair fic //ey guess my fav duo ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)// sitting in my folders. don’t think I’llbe touching it any time soon though. im rather burnt out from this fandom, evenif I do still enjoy watching all the new seasons thereafter.

another is StevenUniverse ah a. (but in its and my defence, I wasn’t really into it anywaysas compared to other fandoms. the songs are still good, but I haven’t beenkeeping up with the newer Steven bombs, one part because of motivation, andanother because the thought of going into the tags to reblog contentintimidates the heck out of me pffft)

A - Ships that youcurrently like a lot. (They don’t have to be OTPs because not everyone hasOTPs.) Friendships, pairings, threesomes, etc. are allowed.

(puffin this question is gonnatake up half the ask oh god)oh bOY where do I start hahahaha. there’s so many aph and fe callbacks hahaha few otps aside I really have too manycrackpairs and platonic friendship ride-or-die squads I would die for. theseare only a few really relevant ones from the top of my head-

OTPS:

Norway/Vietnam (Hetalia) – alWAYS. i dont talk about and reblog much aph anymore but i still think about these two frequently. they were my first and closestthing ever to an actual otp in all my years of knowing what an otp was gosh Ihope to write about them again soon. their dynamics are the peak of mypreferences.

MU(avatar unit)/Silas (FE Fates) – thechildhood friends + loyal knight and liege trope + a pinch of memory loss wasnever really my thing, but guess there’s a first for everything ha h a ah a….silas is too pure for the angst I put him through im so sorry ಸ ل͜ ಸ

Berkut/Rinea (FE: SOV) – the second that one cutscene of these two played I got1000% more invested in the story pffft. anyways rinea may be top tier fav andberkut shit tier fav, and their story tragic as heck (and I would also arguethat he doesn’t deserve her), but their genuine and honest love for each otheramidst the incoming death flags gets me every time

707/MC (Mystic messenger) – honestly they can either be a really good platonicdynamic duo or a solid otp. purely from the perspective of my own MC, theycomplement each other well; perfect balance of light-hearted teasing and asolid wall of comfort for each other.

Ray-Saeran/MC (Mystic messenger) – ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ

(Other) Ships:

Seychelles/Iceland/HK (Hetalia) – they are good togetherromantically or platonically hahahaha. a good golden trio of kids

Russia/Vietnam (Hetalia) – their potential relationship and clashof character due to conflicting personalities fascinate me. a totally differentnoir vibe from norviet and one I hope to explore if I ever come back to aph

Nyx/Leo (FE Fates) – nyx ships are reallyrare but half of them are surprisingly sweet and poignant. Odin and Laslow tooare really sweet candidates to woo this jaded grandma’s heart.

MU/Laslow (FE Fates) – got to thank a wacky7-11 employee au dream I had for this one. but in the games their supportconversations are surprisingly thoughtful and low-key flirting which was notwhat I expected at all. wholesome.

Ham/Kai (MUxMU, FE) – remember when I said protag/protagships are the good stuff? yea h thatprincess tutu au is coming along swell

Alm/Celica (FE: SOV) – the rare main canon couple I love whodon’t die and get their happy ending (LOL this sounds really pathetic now thatI’ve said it)

Leon/Valbar (FE: SOV) – no one is surprised LOL. romantic orno, as long as leon is happy with where he stands with valbar and valbar ishappy with where he is im happy for them both

Conrad/Rinea (FE: SOV) – I know there are a couple of youreading this whos gonna give me that look but liste n; they could have met, and there is potential for them.(honestly this is just like another norviet situation where I put my 2 topfaves together for crackpair experimentation bUT IT WORKS I ASSURE YOU)

Zen/MC (Mystic messenger) – zen is so earnest that I can’t refute himhahaha. he also has a special seat in my mysme heart, since he was the firstroute I played and made me create content for the fandom proper

707/Jaehee (Mystic messenger) – they are rapidly gaining OTP status ꉂ (´∀｀)ʱªʱªʱª aaaa nightmare flashbacks because justlike norviet they really are the rarest of crackpairs and have almost to no content(gonna get down to business and churn fic out one day). these two are moresimilar than they’d think too.

Cecil/Haruka (Utapri) – ahahaha a good ship from a guiltypleasure fandom

(Purely) Platonic:

Izuku/Iida/Ochako (BNHA) – the first golden trio of thisseries. I love them so much.

Vanderwood/MC (Mystic messenger) – they parallel each other. truly thebiggest ride-or-die duo I will support to the end of time

Zen/Yoosung (Mystic messenger) – zen is such a mother hen to yoosungwwwww truly wholesome

Chise/Ruth (Ancient Magus Bride) – platonic master/familiar-partner relationships where both of them care for each other so much to the point where they would die for the other are my one weakness. its the reason i love writing more fleshed-out pokemon aus and loyal dogs/animals in longer fics. anyways these two are good

M - Name acharacter that you’d like to have for a friend.

707. It would be a trip justknowing him. (apart from the memes. but my life is already 80% meme, honestlywhats the difference ahahaha aaa-) Just, I feel like it would be really fun tohang out with him and revel in his wackiness (even if that personality is afront, maybe one day when i finally get into his inner-circle of friends, I hopeto be privy and be a good listening ear to his truer, more sombre personality.)

On the other hand, myself-confidence and 2nd hand embarrassment will be directlyproportional to each other (And im 100% sure Seven is the kind of person whowill exploit that hAH)

S - Show us anexample of your personal headcanon (prompts optional but encouraged)

Every relevant character inMysmes is either a type of asexual (greysexual etc.), or on various points ofthe bi-spectrum. Yeah; even self-proclaimed, “straight-laced” Zen lol.

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (wealways need more ideas)

Vampire/Selkie AU ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

a selkie whose skin gets stolen and hidden from a human man is forced to become his bride and taken back to his village. there, to escape the stares of bigoted villagers and the clutches of her overbearing and possessive husband, she takes refuge in the only place he would not go; the old holy church.

only, she finds she isn’t the first to occupy this place of solitude. the master of the church notices her soon enough, and when vampire recognises the ancient weave of magic that flows within her, he appears; intrigued for something other than a fresh meal.

(basically a deviation from the standard vampire (romance-ish) novels lolol plot bunny hit me pre-Christmas eve dinner/yesterday and sofar im digging it. still planning the ship and fandom though; it might very easily be OC-based)

O - Choose a songat random. Which ship or character does it remind you of?

since 1 is never enough, hereare 4 songs I was listening to recently:

Little Knights, Nem feat.Noire : Zen/MC(a zen-ish song through and through)

over and over, Yanagi Nagi : Saeran Choi + 707&MC(more saeran-centric with interpretative lyrics and referencing to both ray andunknown personas)

Finding something to do, HelloGoodbye : 707/Jaehee(fits their “don’t go where I can’t follow” dynamic haha ow.)

Life will Change, Shoji Meguro + Benjamin Franklin feat. Lyn Inaizumi : Kai(mui) or Ham(let)(honestly the entire persona 5 ost is massive fe fates protag feels)

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons thatyou will die defending?

Not really. I’m a very flexible person when it comes tointerpretable lore and content, especially if it’s the type of HCs that thefandom collectively comes up with. Unless it’s a canon fact, I like to dabble orjust stay away from HCs in general. If I have to come up with some in my fics,then so be it. But most of the time these HCs are either super vague or onlyapply to the context in this particular piece or series of writing. Basically Idon’t mind switching HCs for charas frequently as long as it does notfundamentally change their own character. (HCs for hobbies and loves and habitsand relationships apart from their inner circle, etc. are all fine)

Honestly it just boils down to expectations lol I know myown limits, and I know not to be disappointed when canon updates end updebunking (popular) fandom HCs or my own.

[keyofjetwolf]

I mean maybe this is just me, but I always found the manga version's interpretation of Chibs snapping out from being Black Lady via Pluto's death to be much more poignant than the anime just having her parents reassure her that she's loved by the them and Wiseman's manipulations were just a bunch of lies, then again I tend to go for that kind of wistful tragedy and angst so YMMV. But perhaps the whole king and queen being confirmed bad parents in the manga can at least fit your Bad CT timeline?

OH DEFINITELY. I mean look how much twisting and bending I had to do to make Crystal Tokyo and R make any satisfying sense to me. The anime definitely didn’t make this into a watertight package either. STILL WAITING FOR SOME EXPLANATION FOR WHAT THE FUCK ENDYMION WAS DOING WITH HIS PAST SELF

I think in concept, you’re right about and Pluto’s death being the impetus for Chibs shaking off Wiseman’s influence is way more poignant. I actually really hate the ending of R, “La Soldier” aside. But, for me, emotion and poignancy can’t be a one and done. That Black Lady was obsessed with (SURPRISE) Mamoru took a lot of the steam out for me that Pluto was the trigger for both her “turning” and her salvation. And then that she’s COMPLETELY FINE WITH IT not five minutes later makes me actively angry, like all the emotion Chibs supposedly had was just for show. Which, it’s difficult to not feel is actually the case from an extra-universe perspective. I don’t believe Takeuchi even believes the emotion she’s trying to sell, and it makes the whole thing feel so unbelievably cheap to me.

So yeah! I agree, but only if paired with actual emotional weight.

[delicatenachocollector]

Japril- Do Not Go Gently ...

In a purely cathartic exercise I want to write my thoughts on the current and future state of Japril in the aftermath of the season finale last night.

I spent an embarrassing amount of time jumping from one Japril tumblr to another, absorbing the widespread angst and anger, consuming the theories and observations, and generally marveling at how Sarah Drew and Jesse Williams have managed to make so many of us so invested in the fictional characters they portray. Props to them!

The first thing I wanted to consider is the state of Japril coming into last nights epi. What did we know for sure? Absolutely NOTHING! By keeping them completely out of sight since JTS, they (Shonda, the writers, etc) have given us no information about what happened when they returned to Seattle. We don’t know if they still live together, are friends with benefits, are more than that or in the process of trying to be, we know absolutely nothing. And without that info, it is impossible to be absolutely certain about anything that happens in the finale.

Case in point: April living with Jackson telling Maggie she should tell him if she has feelings for him is a whole lot different than April, living apart and moving on, telling her to.

And the finale itself gave us nothing but more questions. Are there feelings between Jackson and Maggie? Sure, we know there are if we watched any of the episodes the last coupla months. Are they romantic feelings or more sibling like? Are Jackson’s feelings the same as Maggies? And how reliable is April on this topic? Isn’t she the one who was surprised to find out Jackson wasn’t just making booty calls with her and that he actually had lots of feelings? And later she somehow managed to miss how broken he was after Samuel? Just not sure she is interpreting things correctly, particularly if she and Jackson are in some big emotional reckoning themselves.

Of course, there is every likelihood that Greys has decided to move on from Japril, the looks and character interactions were exactly what they seemed, and we’ll see a Jaggie (I hate this BTW) storyline kicking off S14.

So moving on from the mysterious present to the future, what are the possible scenarios? Literally everything!

Sc 1: Japril is over. Jaggie is on. April and Jackson are friends but she gets SLs that have nothing to do with Jackson. (Did I mention I hate this?). Greys follows its long history of undervaluing relationships (and viewers). In this scenario, JTS was the closing chapter of Japril. April puts paid to her guilt for abandoning Jackson and can now move on. Their sleeping together allows them to finally finish as she wanted to way back when, in bed, in love. But... she didn’t really seem to have reconciled herself to that last night.

Sc 2: April got it all wrong and either Jackson, Maggie, or both have different feelings than she imagines. So S14 starts off with the three of them sorting out the confusion and possibly leading to Japril putting their cards on the table at last. In this case, Japril must have been living in some sort of limbo after JTS and it’s a little hard to believe that to be the case.

Sc 3: Jaggie is on but April decides to fight for Japril after all. This might be interesting as it presents the possibility of a scene where April gets to do a version of “say it loud” and make Jackson choose. But again, JTS seems to have been just a frickin blip on the radar.

Sc 4+ : Any kind of bizarre SL Greys wants to cook up because they can go anywhere they want to really because that’s how they’ve set themselves up. (Kind of brilliant in a F-ed up way)

One final note. Another thing that disappointed me about last night- Stephanie leaves Grey Sloan without knowing that Jackson risked his life looking for her or a goodbye scene with him. I think it would have been more poignant with Jackson than Webber, Just a missed opportunity.

[thesinglesjukebox]

HALSEY - WITHOUT ME

[5.38]

Maybe just without the self pity?

Taylor Alatorre: I have little use for Halsey as a personality or a representative of her generation or whatever, and the less I'm forced to think about G-Eazy the better. But this is a solid blue-eyed soul interpretation of Souled Out-era Jhené Aiko, and considering the ill-defined direction the real Aiko has taken lately (22 songs?!), that's good enough for me. A bonus point for admitting upfront that this is a stand-alone release, instead of using it to tease an unfinished album where it'll only appear as a Japanese bonus track. [7]

Alfred Soto: How curious that Halsey, whose timbre is intermittently poignant, should sing verses like a producer requested she do so through a moist sofa cushion pressed against her mouth. The effect dampens the already secondhand emotions. [4]

Ramzi Awn: So it turns out Halsey can actually deliver a solid single. The production on the vocals wears thin but the songwriting sounds new. Halsey's pain is palpable. [7]

Joshua Copperman: Wouldn't have expected Louis Bell and Halsey to work together at all. Bell's specialty is his vocal production, taking vocoded inspiration from Bon Iver and Imogen Heap and mixing it with the modern trap production that virtually everyone else is doing. It's intoxicating, a style that can even lend gravitas to Post Malone. Meanwhile, Halsey centers her music around her lyrics to a fault - even if she sings against a muddy or anodyne background, her voice always comes through. As soon as the chorus hits, Bell and Halsey prove to be a great combination, distracting "God Is A Woman" guitar and the occasional cliché notwithstanding. There's some PVRIS grit in the way she paraphrases "Cry Me A River" during the breakdown, which is a sentence that has probably never been written before. It should be cringey, maybe it is, but she pulls it off, which is the Halsey way. "Without Me" is not necessarily the best over either artist, but it's intriguing and makes me want to hear more from this particular combination before it becomes just another entry in Halsey's career and Bell's extremely productive 2018. [8]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: Halsey does her best Post Malone impression and flounders with an awkward "Cry Me A River" interpolation. In typical Halsey fashion, she owns it and makes these things enjoyable. Also in typical Halsey fashion, this relatably uncool angst is all she has going for her. [4]

Ian Mathers: Can't quite get past my immense distaste for "does it ever get lonely, thinking you could live without me?", which just feels intrinsically poisonous. Although I guess if the song was more interesting that would help. [2]

Vikram Joseph: It seems churlish to stick the boot in too hard when someone's so clearly hurt about the way they've been treated in a relationship, but damn, I wish Halsey had channelled her grievances into something which was either truly vengeful or more emotionally interesting. The angle she's gone for - "I saved you, and now you think you're too good for me" - sinks "Without Me" deep into a morass of self-pity. The best line ("Running from the demons in your mind / Then I took yours and made 'em mine") hints at a darker, more revealing take on how the fallout has affected her, but even then, it would be hard to overcome a forgettable melody and a pace so laborious it deserves a designated lunch break. [4]

Iain Mew: The emphasis on force of emotion to get through an indistinct song harks back to all the bits of her first album that weren't "New Americana." But none of those had a magic trick like the one Halsey pulls here, where once she quotes "Cry Me a River" the steeliness underneath comes to the surface and suddenly it turns out on subsequent listens that it was there all along. [7]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]