#he is in dire need of it. it is an unfulfilled need and he is desperate. as desperate as the parched are for water

[malwaredykes]

the untapped Enemy Of The State Potential is one of boones best funniest traits tbh like ok since im in charge of Awesome Flawless FNV Remake Available Exclusively On My Beautiful Mind im rewriting boones personal #journey arc primarily by expanding on it because i mean yeah fatalistic thinking and the question of agency vs authority and having to live with having done something inexcusable and The Denying Of Closure are good themes but to me theyre not enough here. that lack of closure about something that really intrinsically can never entertain the idea of closure is all well and good, but... lets keep going lets put a pin in that. lets turn once again to boones potential for becoming wanted by the ncr government. boone i know you want to go apeshit. its time to admit that its always been about the system youd been conditioned into never questioning and which you continued to mentally cling to as you felt there was no other purpose or direction to your existence in the wake of all the disastrous events in your life. but its time to develop a grasp on your agency as a human being boone. and yes some of that is going to make you feel worse because, Well. The Complicity. bitter springs. but you know what, it is also freeing and the right thing to do. release your inhibitions feel the rain on your skin. youre already there just look around you. youve cut the ropes that held you back, now its time to rip and shred the ropes that still are wrapped around you. its there. youve physically gotten out. and its time to evolve. "now if iiiiii were to assassinate the president 🤔" i know you want to. im not saying you should but i know youve thought about it before. "guess that settler was well-connected" yes isnt that fucked up i know you think thats fucked up. and oh your friend the courier just did something fucked up at mccarran and all these ncr soldiers and staff are trying to shoot them? of course its the courier youre defending when faced with the immediate choice i mean if its between "fuck the ncr. die" and "fuck the person im ride or die for because theyre a force of destiny that entered my life to change it one way or another and now i care about them deeply. die" well of course youre choosing the path of Leave My FACKING FRIEND Alone You Beasts. but of course the situation doesnt have to be this immediately dire. it doesnt have to stem from an immediate danger to your new object of loyalty. we dont have to let it go down this particular route. no need to have something this drastic happen. you can reach this conclusion simply by giving into the desire youve repressed for years to go apeshit at the ncr government and every arm of its hegemony. that bubbling rage? that "if i let this fester inside me im gonna do a fucking murder-suicide about it"? that in a certain timeline you do in fact end up doing a murder-suicide about? thats not just hateful desperation. thats a feeling, hitherto bottled up and unrefined and volatile, that you should allow to breathe and photosynthesize and grow into something beautiful and true and let it blossom and bear fruit. boone, there is no need to feel alone and helpless and directionless in your unfulfilled desire to cut the umbilical cord.

so. enough rationalizing things as rotten spots and necessary burdens in an otherwise inevitable righteous system, you knowwwww thats pure bullshit. my advice, do some reading. reading is fundamental, and luckily for you, you literally know a very literate anarcho-communist. i can guarantee you that you could walk up to arcade and be like "👉👈 hi gannon soooo i want to get into critiques of capitalism and of the military, and into anarchism and other leftist theory. i want to know about Other Ways to run things. could you give me some recommendations? for books and essays and so on. thanks" and he would be like "boone, yes. Absolutely. yes. i will prepare a reading list for you. gosh." and youll be given a stack of books, with notes and a directory. however, if you two are currently on really bad terms to the point where he doesnt wanna talk to you at all, hey, theres other followers of the apocalypse that would be happy to help. providing education is literally one of their main things. either way, youll finally feel vindicated about things that used to make you feel like you were just going insane. boone you werent going insane you were in fact being onto something. baby that time you saw an ncr military police on the strip facing away from you and there was a loose brick on the ground and it was calling to you like the green goblin mask? that time you were at camp forlorn hope and folks kept saying shit like "that red beret is looking good soldier" and you didnt respond or even look at them because you were focused on containing the urge to grab them by the shoulders and start shrieking? well you see those are actually instincts that tell us you have potential. you have the power to end these patterns. you want to. you need to. thats where you should go. theres a world of ideas waiting for you to tap into and be liberated by. you have nothing to lose but your pitiful pension (you can even keep the beret like who cares). there is so much you can do. its not about allegiance or moral debt or soothing personal guilt, its about doing the right thing. there are so many paths in front of you. also youre trans. like, that one also isnt just you going insane, its real and its right and its you, you are transgender

[weixuldo]

Allow me// ch 11

Vader x Reader

a/n: i’m finally back omggg! school has been so fucking busy lately, but here an update finally is!! ty all for being so patient with me :) and i’ll do my best to stay on top of the updates! enjoy!!

how long can vader keep avoiding you?

warnings: cursing, implied sexual activity

_____________________

Vader paced up and down the halls more domineering than normal; his aura was simply icy. Troopers bowed and scurried off faster than ever- it was evident the Sith was not to be tested today. 

Under his outward image, he was really just an insecure wreck- he felt he was too “vulnerable” with you so he needed to exude power and dominance to everyone else.

He assigned you a detail that would last mostly the whole day in a sector that he rarely visited because he was too embarrassed to face you.

Imagine that, Darth Vader, scared to confront you- not something you see everyday. 

His cape trailed behind him as he marched towards the bridge. He spent the day barking orders at the men beneath him (and force choking a few for insubordination too).

He ended the day feeling unrested and unfulfilled; part of him wanted to go meditate, but the memory of the last time there haunted him. Instead, he opted to tinker with his TIE-fighter. 

On the way to his docking bay he felt the familiar pull of his master. Palpatine wanted to speak with him…great.

He was already in a bad mood but now he had to go see what new bidding he was supposed to do. Begrudgingly he changed his path to head for the built in throne room on the upper level. 

Across the ship, you hauled your tool bag all the way back to your room after an exhausting day. Your brain was filled with worries and bad self esteem all day- you were tired and wanted to rest, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to do that peacefully without knowing why Vader was acting like this all of a sudden. 

After dropping your bag off, you set off to find him. Over the weeks you had gotten closer with the Sith, your ability to feel his force signature became more pronounced. 

The halls seemed more frigid than normal without the security of knowing you were on good terms with Vader (hopefully things would be getting back to normal soon).

After wandering corridor after corridor, his signature kept leading you to dead ends, was he doing this on purpose? Just to toy with you?

The truth was quite the contrary- on the top deck of the ship, Vader entertained an audience with his master; bent on an uncomfortable knee. During their meetings, Palpatine always hid their signatures with his overbearing power. 

“Are you familiar with a rebel called ‘Sabe’?” the emperor groaned. 

Under his helmet, Vader’s eye twitched at the name; he was too deep into the lie that he couldn’t just admit right now. He knew there would be dire consequences if he admitted to anything but they would be even worse if Palpatine found out on his own. 

Deep down, Vader knew that his master was aware of the actions that transpired and was just playing with him before making a scene; based on the lack of audience in the throne room, Vader deduced that he was safe…for today at least. 

The Emperor loved to make a scene. 

“No, Master. I have not heard of such a rebel”.

Vader knew he would be punished eventually, but he needed to make amends with you before anything happened to him. He couldn’t leave you feeling like he played with your emotions; after a lot of thought he realized how you might take his unwillingness to confront you- you may think he’s angry or avoiding you out of spite. 

He couldn’t have that. 

So he would delay the inevitable for just a little longer so that he could put your mind at ease (even if it meant a harsher punishment for him).

“She has apparently gained some of our intel. I was just making sure that you had no hand in it, seeing as she is a former handmaiden" Palpatine hissed. 

She was a former handmaiden and that is the main reason Vader helped her, but the emperor had been extorting his love for his former wife for far too long- he was sick of it. 

“I am aware of a handmaiden named Sabe, but it was ages ago that I was familiar with her in any capacity” Vader spoke, slowly but surely. 

The emperor nodded his cloaked head and smiled a grotesque grin, “very well apprentice, you may go”.

Vader bowed once more before heading for the exit. He was going to regret this later. 

__________________

Eventually you gave up trying to locate the Sith; if he wanted to talk, he would make it known.

Sadly, that was the dynamic he had set up.

You sat at the desk in your room and idly swiped on your personal holopad; maybe you would go tinker around when more workers turned in for the night. 

Vader rushed through the rest of his duties for the day because he knew that he didn’t have much time until Palpatine unleashed his rage upon him, all his master needed was an audience.

The armored man knew he needed to explain all of this to you; the situation, the handmaiden, padme… as well as clear up the incident from the other day. 

He was on high alert because of the emperor’s watchful eyes; the last thing he needed was you getting involved with a danger far beyond your capabilities. So he tinkered with an old mouse droid and wired it to send a message to you to be more inconspicuous.

The mouse arrived at your door with a bump on the door; the message was vague but did the job, because in no time you had made your way to Vader’s chambers. 

“Hello?” you asked to the dark room. 

“My dear…” the darkness responded.

You thought you would be able to play it off as if his absence hadn’t affected you, but as soon as you heard his deep voice, your emotions got the better of you. 

“What is going on? Why have you been avoiding me?” you said, irritation evident in your tone. 

He stepped out of the shadows and exhaled heavily. 

“It was not my intention to-”

“It really doesn’t matter what your intention was. You still avoided me. You tell me you care for me but aren’t even mature enough to tell me why!”.

“I-” he stopped to look down.

“I was wrong to avoid you. I have no excuses for my immature behavior and I sincerely apologize, y/n. Truly, I do”

“I was worried you would…look down on me…pity me. And I was trying to avoid your disappointment” he admitted, making you confused. 

“Why would I feel pity or look down upon you?” you asked sincerely. 

“You know why,” he mumbled. 

“No, I don't” you responded, crossing your arms. 

“Please don’t toy with me”.

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about Vader”. 

He sighed once more and looked away, “Nevermind… I just wanted to apologize for avoiding you. It was nothing against you and I do not want you to feel slighted by me”.

You bit your lip and nodded. 

“Alright… thank you for relaying that to me”

His shoulders seemed to relax.

“But how exactly am I supposed to think anything else when you aren't exactly talking to me at the moment? V, I have been tormenting myself because I was worried that I did something wrong and you just let my thoughts fester. You have no idea the power you have over me…”

WIthout another word he gently placed his gloved hands on your shoulders and bent down towards you. Your eyes widened as you felt the exhale of his respirator against your cheek. 

“From now on, I will be more forthcoming with my feelings towards you. I do not wish this “misunderstanding” to become our constant. I will do better” he promised. 

The nerve under your eye jumped, making your eye unintentionally twitch; he noticed and released his intense hold on you. It took you a moment to process his declaration.

With a deep breath, you responded. 

“V, I care about you in a way I have never felt before… All I want is you to feel similarly for me. I know you may not be able to show it all the time, but that's why our private moments mean so much more to me.” you explained, twisting your hands behind your back. 

He listened intently.

“If you weren’t comfortable with what happened the other day, I would like you to tell me. I won’t do it again and I will respect your boundaries more, I just need you to voice them so I know not to overstep-”

“You didn’t overstep at all,” his deep voice boomed. 

“It was more of an…internal… problem.” he gingerly added. 

“Internal?” you asked. 

He sighed and made his way over to the bed that he never used and sat on the edge.

“I- umm.. I have not shared the type of interaction we shared in a very long time.” he started.

You nodded, “I know”.

He turned his mask from you when you took a seat beside him. 

“My body was not quite used to the strong feelings that surge through my system when you are so near to me…it still isn’t” he admitted shyly. 

“Those feelings aren't necessarily a bad thing, at least not to me.” you said. 

“Because you make me feel the same way”.

Vader could feel the warmth creeping up onto his cheeks, “I don’t think you are fully understanding what I'm trying to say…”

“What do you mean then?”

He took a breath before explaining. 

“When we were in my chamber… those feelings of passion got the better of me and something occurred that I wasn’t aware could still happen…You are aware I was injured many years ago, correct?”.

You nodded. 

“Mostly every part of my body was affected in one way or another…meaning so was my…”

Ohhhh.

Your eyes widened just a tad, but he definitely noticed because he looked away again. 

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of Vader, you fought hard and you're still here, thats all that really matters”

“Yes, but what I am trying to say is… I was just surprised when I- I wasn’t expecting…”

Before he continued to stutter out words, you gently rubbed his arm with an endearing smile. 

“Hey, It’s ok, V. Really, it is”.

“I’m sorry” he said in the softest tone you had ever heard come from him. 

You pulled him closer and he held on to your waist as you rubbed his back and assured him that you thought no different of him.

Maybe it was his age or maybe he had been deprived for so long, but he found himself able to reach a level of vulnerability with you that he never thought he could do again. Your embrace was warm and he allowed himself to lower his defenses ever so slightly.

After a few moments you asked if he wanted to lie down and he agreed. After adjusting the pressure and taking apart his suit, he ended up in your gentle embrace once more. 

In your arms he wasn't Darth Vader- the feared sith lord, nor was he the once great Jedi, Anakin Skywalker. He was just “V”. And nowadays, that's all he wanted to be. 

“I’m honestly kind of flattered” you broke the silence.

“Hmm?”

“Do I really have that much of an effect on you?”; he could hear the smirk in your voice.

“Do I really have to answer that?” he responded with his natural raspy voice and a smile. 

You loved hearing him without the mask. Of course, his mechanical deep voice still did something for you, but there was something so appealing about his softer spoken raspy voice; the gasses of Mustafar left his vocal chords scorched (much like the rest of him).

“Yes” you responded playfully. 

“Then, yes. You have a powerful hold over me” he said; his intense eyes burrowed into yours making you turn away and blush. 

“Turning away from me? Why so shy?” he quipped.

His gloved hand brushed against your cheek and you reveled in the feeling before grabbing his hand, mid-motion.

“How did it feel? Was it good?”.

His eyes widened and his mouth parted as you lifted yourself on top of him.

“I-” he started before you gently settled your ass over his crotch area. 

You bent down with a smirk and whispered into his ear, “now who’s the shy one”.

He exhaled shakily and felt his dick twitch; maker, it felt blissful. 

“I-it felt good… so, so good” he responded, placing his hands around your waist. 

“Before I knew it, I just couldn’t contain my pleasure anymore- not with you sitting so prettily on my lap”.

“So how exactly are you lying so still right now if we’re in almost the same position?” you asked. 

“I'm barely holding it together, my dear” he seemed to growl.

“Shall we fix that?”.

“That would be a pleasing course of action” he responded with a mischievous smile. 

____________________________

After some activities, the two of you cuddled up next to each other and talked about everything under the sun. Likes, dislikes, past, future, eachother… Everything was in high spirits until Vader remembered why he wanted to talk about this with you today (in particular).

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Vader decided to speak. 

“My master wishes to hold an audience tomorrow.” he said, staring at the ceiling. 

“What is it this time? Hopefully it will be short” you responded as you traced small circles on his chest plate. 

“I don’t think it will be quick. In fact the meeting may take several days”.

“What do you mean by that?” you asked, slightly sitting up. 

“I have pushed back a matter the emperor has been pursuing. I have lied to him to better myself but I know he has caught me. He is only calling an audience so he can make an example of me.”

“Vader, if you know that, you can’t go!” you exclaimed. 

“Unfortunately it is a position I have been in before…. There is nothing I can do to avoid it; even if I tried to, my punishment would be even worse-”

You sat up and looked down at him, “Please, you can’t. What if- What if the emperor..”

Vader’s eyes faded into the comforting blue and he propped himself up to your height. 

“It means the galaxy that you are concerned about for me, y/n. But no matter what happens, I won’t give up because I have you to look forward to seeing. I have you to look forward to being with when these insufferable trials are finished.” he brought your forehead to his gently. 

“But Palpatine? Would he… would he kill you?” you asked quietly. 

Vader shook his head, “Not as long as I am useful to the empire, and as of now, I am a key asset. But do not fret too much darling, I will return.”

Though his reassurance was nice to hear, it did little to lessen the tension in the force surrounding the both of you. Neither of you wanted to address it, so instead you laid back down in each other's arms and pretended everything was going to be ok. 

***

a/n: just for clarification they didnt have sex, they just did other things (saving the sex for another ch lol. sorry again for being so late w the updates 😭 lmk if u liked the chapter though!!

taglist: @vadersassistant @sxoulohvn @khaleesihavilliard @kashasenpai @darling-murdock @beautifulbearpolice @salvatoresister1 @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @blueninjablade3 @jujuba096 @missmannequin @jellydodger @mirastark @wyvernthekriger @duckyhowls @monada43 @lauriidoesstuff @vienettacream @ray-rook @itswhatever06 @ilovenielperry

[alienglowgarden]

misc IWATEX drabbles

Hi, so I've been writing a certain fic and have amassed quite a bit of different random scenes which I may or may not use... and I thought,,, it might be fun to share some. N if people like them I'd certainly love to do/share more uwu

1. In which Sol suffers a bad case of burn-out after facilitating peace with the gardeners and decides to take a sabbatical.

Anemone hears it from Tangent, who says it as matter-of-factly as anything: Sol has disappeared. To be fair to them, it was a planned, voluntary disappearance. Anemone hasn't seen Sol in 3 years, and yet the pang of hurt she feels is as fresh as the dew on her boots. Already impossibly far, they have moved into some new to her unreachable realm, drifting ever farther and farther away.

Sym never quite learns to lie outright, so he cannot tell them honestly if Sol is happy or not. Only that they are getting better. They are trying. They are trying to get back to everyone and themself. Even if to all of them it looks like doing the opposite.

Once, Sol uploads a 20 minute long soundscape to the holonet. It is entirely taken up by the sound of crashing waves. Something about it makes her realize its not an old recording of Earth- its Vertumna. Sol is at the ocean. Their voice hums underneath the nature sounds, going in and out at various intervals as it follows one pattern, then loses it only to start trailing another, lulling one into a sense of calm and just the lightest sting of loss. Reminds one, gently but insistently, of the vast distance between her and Sol.

Their voice is salt-cracked and hoarse. Now a stranger to language, their tongue bends only for the small, simple sounds.  Are they eating well? Their mouth cannot answer. It must be inferred from the thinness of their breath.

  Does salt crust the corners of their eyes?       There is no way of telling.       Are they cold?      Do they sleep?      Are they shivering?     Do they think of her?    Are their pets well-fed?       Do they miss their mother?     Are there holes in their shirt that need mending?      Does the scar still itch?       Have they shelter?  A home?     Does it get lonely?    Is she at fault?      Will they ever talk to her?        Did they catch Echinacea's first steps?       Do they watch the videos and follow along life at the colony?      Is their knife still sharp?      Are they drinking enough?     Do they sleep better now than they had before, at home?    Is it enough to keep them from the nightmares?

2. Dys & Sol

Where Dys was fearless, emotional, Sol was calm, always measured. Their conflicting natures again grinding against each other until they finally ground each others edges smooth. Eroded enough to stand beside one another. Shoulder to shoulder. A protrusion laid into the groove, spike fitted against spike closing into a gapless vice, puzzle piece in puzzle piece. Still not smooth enough to play well with the others.

Sol always wondered about that. How these two unlike objects could come so close and find what was lacking and what could be given in turn.

Belief the chiefest among those necessities. Belief was hard to come by from anyone else who was not the playground seer or the cryptid of stratospheric. They traded it between each other like tokens, like currency which once their ancestors had sought just to be able to survive. The stakes here were just as dire.

Belief was a powerful thing- it could make or break you. It could make you whole or leave you forever unfulfilled, left to feel around blindly for every shadow of its shape as it eludes you time and time again, as it is buried down deeper by the disappointment and the falsities.

"Fine, don't believe in the colony. Believe in me."

"I do, Sol. But you're just one person."

3. ...and another one why not.

He finds Sol balancing on the edge of a wall near their lookout tower. They grin at him, they're in a good mood. This might be bad. They  waggle their eyebrows in challenge, then extend one leg over the edge of the wall.

“Dare ya,”

They start and don't even finish the sentence. There’s no need. They already have Dys’ undivided attention.

He smirks and scoffs. “As if I’ve never jumped off the wall, please Sol. That’s baby stuff.”

For a moment he watches them  pause and look out across the Vertumnan wilds, tensing imperceptibly. Or, no, not quite. It looks more like they’re frozen in place, like none of their limbs were ever designed with movement in mind. Their pupils don't even twitch, they don't blink. The action is both painfully familiar and alien, as if they’re one of…

Then all at once, they’re alive again, interfacing with the physical world. Their body careens forward and their grin goes down, down, down…

He rushes forward. He’s just in time to jump off the ledge as the toes of Sol’s shoe leave solid ground. There's no way he can be outdone by Sol. Sol who by all accounts should be capable of experiencing fear but does not only on account of that they're totally and irreversibly insane. There’s nobody he’d want to be with more in this moment.

Sol, of course, knows they will be fine. They were careful, they checked. No bad feelings, no premonitions. Just tuck and roll.

4.[COULD YOU HELP ME RELAX?] (Sol x Sym)

"I'm just so tired Sym. I feel so old; barely like a person at all."

He pulls them down as he habitually does, using his arm as their headrest.

"No matter what, you'll always be the one I love," he says soothing.

"No, I know- its just-" they groan rubbing their face in frustration and exhaustion.

"Oh, should I be offended? Am I not enough for you, sugarbug?" Sym teases.

Sol grins in a kind of half-defeat, half-relief that he won't make them actually get into the meat of it. They're far too worn for that now.

"You know what I mean." This, they say with the smile still in their voice.

"I think I do. I'm sorry I cannot do more at this moment. But, when the time comes, you will make the right choice, I know it. I believe in you, my love."

Sym finds himself not for the first time feeling guilt over the clarity of purpose he has as opposed to his chaotic human friends.

Though maybe that's not the issue with Sol at all, maybe it's the opposite. Because they do have a purpose coded into them. It's simply too much for one person to bare. He knows he is part of that issue as much as he'd wish to remain a truly neutral party.

He can't do anything more than kiss their temple as he smooths back their hair, his helplessness expressed in this gesture oddly human. For all his vast knowledge, the soothing motions of a social pack animal is the best he can offer.

"That was just what I needed," they say too soon, tension pulling them up like a whip, as if the words themselves were some sort of trigger. They kept going regardless. Before he could have ever even administered his Gardener magic to them. Does this mean they don't feel its effects at all anymore? Could they not tell the difference between a comforting word and supercharged chemical reaction?

[nychthemeron-rants]

Single Mom AU pt 3

Laia’s (Laios’) Timeline

Pt. 1 (AU Summary) Pt.2 (Name Guide) Pt. 4 (Chilchuck's Timeline)

Age 13- tried to disguise herself as a boy and join the army to escape ridicule from both her father and the other kids at school. Was caught and returned home near immediately. This resulted in severe punishments from her parents and even more social isolation from her peers. Her close relationship with her little brother, Fanil, is what got her through this dark period in her life.

Age 14- Encouraged Fanil to go to the magic school their parents have been threatening to send him to. She knew that since Fanil was their only son they didn't want to actually send him and were hoping that the threat would be enough to get Fanil to “act normal” but Laia knew Fanil could use this as an opportunity to escape and make something better of his life than inheriting their father's position.

Age 16- Reached adulthood and was married off to Dimar, the 19 year old eldest son of a wealthy merchant from their village. Dimar's family only agreed to the marriage because of Laia’s status and the chief's daughter and eldest child. While Dimar had heard of Laia's peculiar ways, he also knew she was proficient in many of the skills a “good wife” needed to have, and he considered her good looking enough to be fine with the arrangement. Laia wasn't thrilled but was raised to expect an arranged marriage and was honestly relieved that her husband seemed kind and was of a similar age.

Age 17- Her daughter, Lind, was born. It was shortly after the birth of their daughter, that Dimar's feelings towards the marriage turned from passive contentedness to resentment, as the added responsibility of raising a child with a woman he did not love began to weigh on him. Laia noticed her husband growing distant but blamed it on the exhaustion of having a newborn (despite Dimar doing little to help with Lind). 

Age 19- Dimar's resentment towards Laia and, by extension, Lind, for supposedly holding him back and saddling him with responsibility at a young age and leaving him unfulfilled boils over. He divorces Laia suddenly, leaving their village without informing anyone where he’s gone. He even, vindictively, sold their home expecting her and Lind to simply move back in with her parents. 

Laia, instead, took this as an opportunity to finally leave her village and try to make a life for herself and her daughter thats better than what she's experienced thus far. Obviously her parents were strongly against this, but being an adult now they couldn't do anything about it.

She felt only mild irritation at Dimar's action as she also felt no satisfaction with her life as his wife, had never loved him, and again, saw this as a chance for a new life 

Age 19 cont. - Made it to the Magic academy to see Fanil before she picked where to settle. Besides, Fanil had never had the chance to actually meet his niece before, which Laia wanted to remedy ASAP. 

Fanil convinced her to settle in the town next to the school so they can see each other regularly, which she did, picking up odd-jobs to fund the small apartment she was renting.

Age 22 - Odd jobs stop paying as well and living expenses get dire. Fanil suggests they start adventuring while they ask the school to look after Lind while they're gone. Laia is hesitant at first, considering Lind is only 5, but relents when Fanil asks his best friend and teacher Marcel to help them find long term babysitters for  Lind for cheap. They then join the gold stripping party.

(Marcel is EXTREMELY against this idea as he doesn't want Fanil to leave the school so close to graduation, but relents because he knows Fanil is going to go regardless, and knows that Lind being at the school means he HAS to come back. Still low-key judges Laia, whom he has never met, for being so much of a hot mess she has to “kidnap” her little brother away from his education and dump her daughter on the school.)

Age 23- Leaves the gold stripping party and forms her own party with Fanil. 

Lind, now 7, is old enough to enroll in the Magic Academy, allowing Laia and Fanil to go on longer Adventures as they don't need to go back to the school quite as often. (Both still write Lind as often as possible and visit frequently, as well as Laia sending most of her money back to Lind)

Laia discovers that Chilchuck is also adventuring for the sake of her daughters as a single mother. This happens after Chil discovers Laia quietly crying over a letter from her daughter. In order to comfort her, she explains that she understands her feelings because she has kids to look after too. However, Chil doesn't specify her daughters’ ages and tells Laia to keep her family info quiet.

Age 24 - Marcel joins the party to look after Fanil and try to convince him to come back, after a year ensuring Lind is adjusting well to the school. Decides to stay for research and Fanil.

Age 26 - Plot begins. Fanil is swallowed by the red dragon and with the weight of having her (now 9 year old) daughter on the surface waiting for her safe return, she ventures back into the dungeon with no provision to save her brother.

[blamebrampton]

If you’re a USAmerican and any of your friends or family members are talking about voting for Trump for economic reasons, you need to be talking to them.

Trump’s ‘economic’ plans are wildly inflationary and will push up the deficit. You can see the modelling here from Penn Wharton: https://budgetmodel.wharton.upenn.edu/issues/2024/8/26/trump-campaign-policy-proposals-2024. If your person says that is just modelling, Trump blew the budget at unprecedented levels BEFORE the pandemic in his first term (see https://www.propublica.org/article/national-debt-trump).

23 Nobel-winning economists have released a joint letter endorsing Harris and pointing out the economic inequality that will follow a second Trump presidency (https://www.afr.com/world/north-america/23-nobel-laureates-can-t-be-wrong-about-trump-20241101-p5kn5u) and how it will damage the American economy for generations to come. His tariffs will drive up prices (that, and reduce consumer choice, is what tariffs do), they will not restore American manufacturing. His presidency did NOT make any strides towards that (https://www.epi.org/publication/reshoring-manufacturing-jobs/), even before the pandemic he was a notable failure at one of his central policies. Biden-Harris policies, on the other hand have actually created manufacturing jobs and helped lift the economy.

Americans may not feel their lives are better off now, but you can thank Trump for that. His presidency was an unprecedented term of shifting wealth and power to billionaires and a huge component of recent inflation has been corporate profit taking by companies. (https://www.epi.org/blog/corporate-profits-have-contributed-disproportionately-to-inflation-how-should-policymakers-respond/ ) The policies outlined for his second term will only make this worse.

There are so many reasons not to vote for Trump: his policies kill women; after nine years of policing a health policy ‘in four weeks’, it’s still just ‘concepts of a plan’; he was a terrible president for immigration, not lowering figures (the sole drop during his term was when the pandemic broke out and people stopped moving) but torturing children; he failed on every significant issue that he campaigned on aside from making life better for billionaires and he failed to meet the central challenge of his presidency with anything approaching competence with Americans being 40% more likely to die of Covid than people in other wealthy nations thanks to his ineptitude (and graft: let us never forget the contracts that went to mates, many of which were left unfulfilled, while testing equipment went to his mate Putin.) AND HE INCITED A COUP AND TRIED TO KILL HIS VICE PRESIDENT which in any rational country would see him in jail.

But it’s just a fantasy to pretend he is good for the economy and people need to stop living in denial.

[acourtofthought]

Idky sjmaas writes the important bits in her books in such a casual way. Like the explanation of mates, mating bonds, etc. I was talking to my friend and she didn’t remember the catastrophe of not accepting a mating bond. Like all this stuff is so casually or nonchalantly talked about in the books that we as readers, can imagine whatever happening to the characters or the characters can do whatever they want to do. When in reality it’s much more grave. There are pretty dire consequences to things in this series. I don’t fault my friend because if I hadn’t joined the fandom I would’ve looked over so much too. So is sjmaas actually a decent writer if so many of us are able to look over certain things that she herself considers important or wants us to pay attention to? It��s not always clear what should be looked as important, but I’m sure it’s very clear to the author

I do agree that she at times drops information that could result in grave consequences for the character in a very offhand way but I think it's intentional. To your point about mating bonds (or unaccepted mating bonds), she had two characters who are completely in love with one another as the deliverers of the information, making that information a very abstract concept to them and the reader. And they were talking about a character who was mourning her fiance (a fiance who was not her mate) so again, it didn't feel like we were truly suffering the effects of an unaccepted bond between two character. It's sort of like watching the news, the reporter delivers a tragic story but when you don't know the person being reported on or it occurred in a state far away from yours, it's difficult to feel what those close to the victim are feeling. By the end of the series I think we'll have a better idea as to whether this was an intriguing approach or poor writing technique but right now I think it's meant to be possible foreshadowing (which would make it an intriguing approach). I think she likes to subtly provide the readers with information because she knows that down the line she's going to be giving us the angst that comes along with those dire consequences but she doesn't want us to be fully focused on them just yet. Sort of like subliminal messaging. And I've noticed that she provides the information while focusing on one couple or one person, tricking you into believing she's telling you what's in store for that couple, all the while gearing up to apply the information to someone you weren't expecting. Rhys and Feyre casually talking about a rejected mating bond between Elain and Lucien only to have Elain and Lucien end up with a rejected bond is a little too on the nose. Just like Feyre imagined that Nesta and Amren would be fast friends......they were....until they weren't. Her premonition only went so far and ended up with Nesta's found family being Gwyn and Emerie. And I think the intensity of a rejected mating bond between Elain and Lucien isn't something people connect with because in order for there to be true pain and angst, we'd need to see the effects of the male suffering and being driven mad by it being unfulfilled. Lucien is a main character who is most likely getting a POV and I highly doubt SJM would give him a POV that comprises of long term suffering. We know he's getting a HEA in the end with a love interest and 2 years of an unfulfilled bond then a rejected bond for another few months before he finds his endgame person doesn't really feel like what SJM was describing for rejected bonds. But a character like Helion, who we know has held a torch for the LoA for years despite sleeping with others? Knowing she stayed with Beron and had his children? That's suffering. A possible rejected bond between Mor and Eris where he was willing to suffer through his fathers abuse in order to free Mor from being forced into the Autumn Court where she couldn't find love with a female love interest? Where he's spent centuries without an accepted bond in order to free her? That's suffering. I do think it's all very intentional on SJMs part but we're not going to be able to truly answer that until the series is finished and we see if she ever did anything with the information she dropped.

[thequietmanno1]

Thelreads, MHA 294, Replies Part 1

1) “Last time we had mirio and then Machia went hooonk shiuuuu, because Momo is as badass as we think she is. Now, let us see what shall take place, on Chapter 294: Final Performance”- The closing moments of the arc, and the League’s time together, as one of the Core members prepares himself to leave the spotlight for good…

2) “oh hey look, dead people

that was certainly their last performance, that’s for sure.”- And they won’t be the only ones, if Compress succeeds in getting Tomura out of this Jam the League are currently facing. 3) “WAIT WHY THE FUCK THEY PUTTING GRAN TORINO INTO AN OXYGEN MASK

THAT FUCKER IS DEAD

HE GOT CRUSHED THE FUCK UP AGAINST THE GROUND BY SHIGARAKI AT FULL FORCE, TRUST ME HE IS NOT GONNA NEED THAT MASK”- Well, they did the same for Nighteye after he got shish-ka-bobbed, so I think it’s standard medical practice. Besides, Gran Torino might not be dead – he’s almost certainly paralysed though, with his spine broken clearly in two. If any adult hero survives this war, they’re almost certainly losing a piece of themselves doing so, judging by the count so far. 4) “Yeah Jeanist, but let us not beat around the bush, those people there are dead. Mt lady? Dead. Midnight? dead. Gran Torino? Super Dead. Endeavor? I wish. But perhaps eventually.”- I’m honestly going to start keeping a record of all the adult heroes who’re still alive and in one piece by the end of this series, and I don’t think we’re gonna be breaking the single digits with it. 5) “Yeah, but remember Mirio those are high-ends, they can learn as the fight goes along. The longer the fight goes on, the harder things are gonna become.”- They’re Near-High Ends actually, according to Garaki. The difference seems to be that they have above-average intelligence for a Nomu, but still no sense of true self, and so can’t vocalise or anything like that. Thankfully this means they can’t strategize and are little more than attack animals. Sadly, this means they still have capabilities that are close to the High-Ends’ own, so are still tough and dangerous regardless. 6) “Also, oh my god Ida calling Bakugo by his hero name- I’m still not used to that. And the fact that Bakugo of all people couldn’t come up with a comeback? Jesus, he really is beyond saving, he’s gonna be buried right next to GT”- Things are dire when not even Bakugou’s feral energy can keep him in the fight anymore. 7) “oh dear god Mr Compress is gonna do something to save his pals, isn’t he?

…

OH DEAR GOD THE TITLE OF THE CHAPTER- OH GOD MR COMPRESS YOU BETTER NOT”- I’ve seen people give an arm and a leg to save their pals, but I’ve never seen them give their ass before. 8) “Now tell me Mr compress, couldn’t you compress yourself so you can escape the cables and then just decompress? Surely you could, right? And it won’t require you making a dramatic sacrifice, right?”- I’m honestly uncertain if Compress can compress himself – we’ve never really seen him pull it off as an infiltration tactic before, despite how useful it’d be, and whislt he can do so to the league and pull them back out, he may be incapable of undoing it fro the “inside” so to speak, which would only lead to him suffocating or something. At the very least, he was forced to resort to this more drastic measure instead of self-compressing to evade Jeanist’s wires.

9) “I think you can exclude Dabi from that list, he already did got everything he wanted an- OH MY GOD TOGA IS CRYING”- Sadly, Dabi’s dreams can only be satisfied with maximum suffering inflicted on his family, and everybody else by proxy. And it’s a tragic case of dramatic irony, whilst Compress has sympathy for Dabi’s unfulfilled wishes as a part of the team, and Toga’s own emotional turmoil – and Toga would do the same were the situation reversed – Dabi does not give a crap about either of them, save the usefulness they can provide to him in the frenzied death-match he desires. 10) “Well you better act soon Compress, because Jeanist is getting sick of having to tie you guys up for longer.”- Now his attention’s no longer distracted by Machia, Jeanist is free to ensure the conscious members of the league are no longer left that way whilst the battle is pitching up. The less variable they have to keep track of, the better, and given what Compress does here, despite his lack of overall combat power, it was the right call. 11) “ACTUALLY I’M GETTING MORE WORRIED ABOUT SPINNER DYING BEFORE COMPRESS DOES GOOD LORD MAN I KNOW YOU WANT TO PUT THEM TO SLEEP BUT LOOK AT THAT FACE”- It’s not like Jeanist can accurately track their pulse and breathing from a distance away through the cables,  especially with the chaos erupting around him. The best he can do is focus on not breaking their necks and hoping that they pass out quickly so he can ease up on the pressure…but again, the situation is dire enough that even if Jeanist were to accidently kill them like this, he wouldn’t be blamed or held accountable for it. 12) “OH GOD HE’S NOT GONNA COMPRESS HIMSELF COMPLETELY, RIGHT? JUST A CHUNK OF HIS OWN BODY SO HE CAN ESCAPE THE CABLES

OH GOD NO”- Also a neat attention to detail that Compress can only perform this move on his right side, as that’s the only one with a flesh-and-blood arm remaining, Overhaul’s injury against him further handicapping the league’s chances of success at the crucial moment. 13) “AT LEAST YOU WILL SURVIVE THIS ONE, RIGHT? SURE, YOU’LL BE THE ASSLESS COMPRESS, BUT STILL, YOU’RE NOT GONNA DIE, RIGHT?”- He got them out, but in such a manner that means he himself won’t be able to flee with them – not that they even could overall, with the surrounding heroes mobbing them in an effort to prevent the primary instigators of the war from escaping and rendering the overall point of the conflict null and void. All Compress can do is sacrifice himself to give the others some breathing room, and leave the rest in Spinner’s hands to get Tomura out of there. 14) “HOLY SHIT HE WAS FAST

WELL, HE WAS MORE AERODYNAMIC WITHOUT HIS ASS AFTER ALL. LESS WEIGHT TO BE CARRIED.”-Compress is an under-looked member of the league, but his abilities have always been a source of support for them, giving them an edge with infiltration and similar, along with his observations of the others and accurately judging who needs help the most. In this moment, both the powerhouses of Tomura and Machia have been felled, and Dabi is not interested in lending his aid to the “leader” when his own goals are nearby, yet the support of a weaker, yet genuine team player proves crucial for the League to not completely lose this war. 15) “I’M STARTING TO FEEL LIKE THE ASS IS NOT GOING TO BE THE ONLY THING THAT WILL BE SACRIFICED IN THIS ESCAPE OF HIS”- Sometimes, winning a war comes down to having a person who’s willing to sacrifice more than the enemy in order to score a victory for his side, no matter the cost to him personally. 16) “YES BUT CAN YOU PLEASE DO THAT WITHOUT KILLING YOURSELF PLEASE? TWICE DOESN’T NEED COMPANY RIGHT NOW HE’S FINE”- Desperate times, desperate actions – and yet, the effort put into those actions is undeniable. Compress is no powerhouse fighter, but he’s always been one to lay down his life on the line for the others, which is a quality that Tomura is able to attract in his followers. 17) “That name seems familiar, but I can’t remember from where. Also, is this gonna be a Compress backstory reveal?”- It was name-dropped as one of many noticeable Quirk-users in history by Gentle during his infiltration of UA, desiring to be a standout villain of notoriety similar to him and Re-Destro’s ancestor. Ironically, Gentle actually seems to have more in common with Harima’s methodology than his actual descendant.

18) “Well, I must say, his ancestor must be extremely disappointed with the path he picked then, because what Compress got involved with is a long cry from exposing injustice, if the piles of civilian corpses they left behind those past 20 minutes alone are anything to go by.”- Not unlike Re-Destro’s own past, the legacy of a notable ancestor become twisted and distorted over time, becoming a negative influence on the next generation that guided them down a wrong path when they may have chosen otherwise if left to their own devices. In fact, the same can be said of both Dabi and Tomura’s own pasts as well – many of the league are those whose past histories isolate them from normal society in some manner and drive them together in a common cause in opposition to it, and Compress’ backstory shows how even a well-meaning example like his Robin Hood ancestry can change a man for the worse in trying to emulate that. (MHA ch 291) 19) “Wonder how much a DNA test is worth considering people with Toga’s quirk, who can become another person.”-And a hint towards Compress’ impending reveal, that he too, is one of such a renowned bloodline in their little group. 20) “Oh, not worth the time to kill him if your dad is not up to watch it huh, alright Dabi, can you fuck off then I want to know more about the assless compress”- Some translations I saw said that Endeavour had passed out from the exertion of body-checking Machia unconscious, and Dabi didn’t want to kill Shoto whilst their father wasn’t awake to see it. He’s got a plan in mind for how this fight’s going to play out, and he won’t accept deviations. 21) “THE MASK

IT’S OFF

OH GOD NO AM I READY TO GAZE UPON WHAT MR COMPRESS IS LIKE UNDERNEATH IT? DARE I WITNESS THINGS HUMANKIND WAS NOT MEANT TO KNOW?”- Behold and witness the Hawtness!! 22) “hello?”- Compress had to lose half his cake to balance out his good looks underneath that mask.

23) “Also, he’s the heir of a lineage of vigilantes wanting to fix society and he ended up a super villain trying to bring forth the destruction of it, as well as the genocide of an untold number of innocent people. Ouch Compress, that’s not gonna look good when you get to the pearly gates, your grandpa is gonna fucking kick your ass.”- Even if change is important to fixing society’s flaws, it’s arguably more important to bring about the right kind of change, not destructive anarchy like the League enacts in a short-sighted effort to ��fix” things, no matter the good intentions. @thelreads

[techni-kolor]

I might be a bit tired and still reeling a bit from the episode itself ... but I think I figured out why Fyodor's death feels unsatisfying to me. There are many reasons, actually. But this one stands out because he still died with control.

We know that he is incredibly mysterious + BSD has an important pattern of "information is power" which Fyodor fits into very nicely since literally everything is unknown about him as a primary antagonist. Do we know his age? No. Do we know his origin story? No. Do we even know the mechanism of his ability? Also, no. Everyone is in the dark, both in universe and as an audience. And we are STILL in the dark. Fyodor had no new information revealed in his death and if he is to be believed, that information will never be revealed since the sole owner of it is permanently comatose. Poor Sigma. Fyodor dying with his secrets intact feels so shallow because his mystery is such a large part of his character and such a large part of his power. To be stripped of that would have been satisfying both for us as readers AND more of an appropriate defeat. (Although I will say that I like the elements of trust/control/etc and how the difference between Dazai and Fyodor was highlighted. I mean this as an additional part.)

Fyodor died holding all of his cards. We missed out on the satisfying moment of watching him be "uncloaked" and even post-death any information we learn we feel shallower because it's no longer useful. There is no dire need to know if his plan truly failed. There is no possibility of his reaction to his secrets being revealed to the world. It's very likely he didn't share every single memory with Sigma either and he died with some of his secrets intact. Those are lost forever now. I would have LOVED to see him be seen by some of the other characters in universe and I am majorly disappointed that we missed out on that and he died with one of his greatest strenghs still intact.

And another quick point ... I have to mention the character dynamics of Nikolai being part of this as well. Someone Fyodor influenced greatly by understanding. Nikolai will never truly know Fyodor in return now even if he is included in learning about him post-death since it is second hand knowledge that can never be expanded upon or delivered with the true emotions that it held. It's the difference between talking to someone in person or reading a textbook account of them. Essentially, the same connection that drew Nikolai to Fyodor would be impossible in return. That's a rather unfulfilling end to their dynamic, in my opinion.

[starlostlix]

Weighing up the possibility of Fukuzawa dying/retiring at the end of this arc

Fukuzawa as currently broken by grief from Fukuchi's death, and the fact that he died for nothing. He's only left with the memories of him, insights into his desire for world peace and how he was ready to give everything up, and give the world to him. This man is crushed by the weight of his grief and his possible new responsibility for the army of mankind, making him possibly responsible for the safety of the world - if the world can make it.

The Divine being, bearing Fukuchi's face, is destroying everything and everyone around them, going against everything Fukuchi died for. The ADA is going to have a hard time against Fyodor and his new weapon, and sacrifices may have to be made to save the world. Fukuzawa wants to protect the people that he loves. The situation is dire, he's on his last legs with numerous life threatening injuries - it's only natural that he may think of giving his life to save the rest of the ADA.

But, equally he may not. His ability helps keep the agency members in control of their abilities, and without that they could put themselves or others in serious danger. Since he's all about protecting them, it seems unlikely he'd want to put them in that danger. Plus, the deal with the Port Mafia is still unfulfilled, and he is the only one that can vouch for the idea that Yosano is off limits. Him dying would leave his agency - his family - in a tough spot that he may not be willing to risk.

However, he may not cope with the pressure of being leader of the army of mankind, even if he did survive. If he were to survive and try and carry on Fukuchi's legacy of world peace through it, then I could see him being active in the story still. But we've already previously set up the idea that Kunikida would take over from Fukuzawa if needed, so there's also a possibility that he may simply retire/take a break. His ability can still act on his subordinates if they swear loyalty to him, so maybe with Kunikida as acting leader of the ADA he could take some time off to recover and mourn in a non-life-threatening situation. Perhaps he may even keep Poe's book from the airport battle, having it rewritten so he can dive into it occasionally and reminisce on the fonder, more joyful experiences he had with Fukuchi, instead of the sacrifices he made under the influence of a false narrative.

Whatever the outcome, the Fukuzawa we knew before this arc and the one we have after likely will not be quite the same.

[This kind of turned into an angst post but feel free to discuss what you think Fukuzawa's fate may be after this arc (regardless of the author's track record on character death bait) because i don't think it's looking too good]

[ejesgistnews]

Former Vice President Atiku Abubakar has criticized President Bola Tinubu's governance and economic policies, accusing the administration of causing undue hardship for Nigerians. In a statement issued on Monday by his Special Assistant on Public Communication, Phrank Shaibu, Atiku lambasted Tinubu for neglecting pressing national issues while focusing on attacking political opponents. Atiku expressed disappointment over Tinubu's handling of economic reforms, noting that a promise made on July 8, 2024, to lift import duties on essential goods for 150 days remains unfulfilled over 120 days later. Nigerians continue to suffer from spiraling food inflation, now exceeding 40%—the highest in decades," Atiku said. He attributed this delay to the incompetence and lack of coordination among Tinubu’s appointees, including the Ministry of Finance's failure to issue a necessary gazette. Instead of addressing the nation's dire economic situation, Atiku accused the Tinubu administration of launching verbal attacks against opposition figures like himself and Peter Obi. "Rather than focus on governance, they are fixated on discrediting the opposition using compromised courts. It is a disgrace," Atiku remarked. Policy Missteps and Economic Woes Atiku criticized Tinubu's hasty policy decisions, pointing to the abrupt removal of the petrol subsidy as a prime example. He argued that the move was made without proper planning, leading to widespread hardship. "Tinubu's decision to remove the subsidy was made without considering its implications. Now, he is pushing a CNG initiative that even his ministers have refused to adopt," Atiku stated. The former PDP presidential candidate highlighted the failure of the CNG program due to inadequate gas infrastructure across the country. He noted that transportation costs and food prices have continued to escalate as a result. "Tinubu’s mid-term expenditure framework projects an exchange rate of N700/$1 for 2024 and N650/$1 for 2025. This shows a lack of realistic economic planning," Atiku argued. He challenged the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) to release its 2023 financial statements to verify the claimed FX reserves of $40 billion, suggesting that the net reserves are less than 20% of that figure. Security Failures and Bigotry Allegations Atiku expressed concern over the emergence of a new terror organization, Lakurawa, as announced by the military. He linked the rising insecurity in northern Nigeria to frequent power grid collapses caused by criminal activities. "Rather than address these pressing security issues, Tinubu has chosen to politicize security appointments, placing his kinsmen in key positions," Atiku claimed. The former Vice President also accused Tinubu of nepotism in economic appointments, stating, "From the finance minister to the heads of the CBN, customs, and FIRS, Tinubu’s kinsmen hold all critical positions. Even Buhari was not this blatant in his favoritism." In a pointed remark, Atiku declared, "Unlike Tinubu, I am not a tribal bigot. I have never had to refund money to the United States for alleged drug trafficking." Misplaced Priorities Amid Revenue Crisis Atiku criticized Tinubu's allocation of over $13 billion for the controversial Lagos-Calabar coastal highway, a project that has displaced numerous Lagos residents. "This administration prioritizes satisfying associates over addressing pressing national needs," Atiku stated. He urged Tinubu to focus on governance and improving Nigerians' lives, warning that the President only has two years left in his term to make a meaningful impact. "Nigerians are tired of Tinubu’s leadership. He must act now before it’s too late," Atiku advised. Atiku Denies Jealousy Claims, Accuses Tinubu of Callousness Responding to claims that he is envious of Tinubu’s position, Atiku retorted, "It is ludicrous to suggest that I am jealous of Tinubu. I cannot envy a leader who is inflicting pain on Nigerians. Wickedness is the exclusive domain of Tinubu, much like T-Pain’s monopoly on his craft."

Atiku also expressed alarm over recent protests where young Nigerians were seen waving Russian flags and calling for military intervention. "God forbid that we return to the dark days of military rule. However, leaders must not push citizens to a point where they prefer the fire over the frying pan," he warned. He concluded by noting that the naira is currently Africa's worst-performing currency, and Nigeria’s economy has plummeted from being the largest on the continent to the fifth largest since the All Progressives Congress (APC) took power in 2015. "Most Nigerians are struggling to find their next meal. This should be Tinubu’s primary concern, not engaging in political grandstanding while the nation burns," Atiku declared

[themovieblogonline]

Desperation Road Review: A Bumpy Journey into Southern Noir

Michael Farris Smith’s Desperation Road is adapted into a film directed by Nadine Crocker. This film presents a story steeped in the shadows of the Mississippi landscape. The film attempts to unravel the complexities of human nature in the face of dire circumstances. Garrett Hedlund takes on the role of Russell Gaines, Mel Gibson as his stoic father Mitchell Gaines, and Willa Fitzgerald as the desperate young mother Maben. While the premise of the story is intriguing, the film falls short of delivering a truly immersive experience. This leaves me, and audiences, with a sense of unfulfilled potential. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OmkL_cu_qw0 The Bad: At its core, Desperation Road explores themes of redemption, forgiveness, and the cyclical nature of violence. Hedlund portrays Russell Gaines with a brooding intensity as a man haunted by his past. He's struggling to escape the sins that landed him in prison prior. We also have Mel Gibson who brings a certain gravitas to the character of Mitchell. Mitchell is an embodiment of the harsh, unforgiving environment that shapes his son’s destiny. Willa Fitzgerald's portrayal of Maben, though emotionally charged, lacks the depth needed to fully empathize with her character's desperate situation. One of the film’s major shortcomings lies in its pacing and storytelling. The plot, adapted from Smith’s novel, meanders at times, losing its grip on the audience’s attention. The narrative, while intriguing in concept, fails to sustain the tension necessary for a gripping noir thriller. Certain subplots and character developments, crucial for understanding the protagonists' motivations, are either rushed or left unresolved, leaving viewers feeling disconnected from the characters' journeys. Furthermore, the film struggles with its tonal consistency. There are moments of intense, raw emotion juxtaposed with scenes that border on melodrama, creating a jarring viewing experience. The directorial choices, especially in the handling of sensitive subjects, lack the finesse required to navigate the complexities of the characters’ emotions. This lack of subtlety diminishes the impact of pivotal scenes. The result is that it’s challenging for audiences to fully invest in the characters’ struggles. While the performances of the lead actors are commendable, the chemistry between them often feels forced. Hedlund and Fitzgerald, despite their individual talents, fail to establish a genuine connection on screen. This lack of authentic chemistry weakens the emotional depth of their relationship, making it difficult for the audience to fully invest in their journey together. Similarly, the dynamic between Russell and his father, portrayed by Mel Gibson, lacks the nuanced exploration needed to convey the complexity of their relationship, reducing it to a predictable father-son trope. The Good: On a positive note, the film’s cinematography captures the eerie beauty of the Mississippi landscape, serving as a fitting backdrop to the characters’ bleak lives. The haunting visuals, coupled with a melancholic score, create an atmosphere that aligns with the genre's aesthetic. However, these visual elements, while atmospheric, cannot compensate for the film’s narrative shortcomings and lack of emotional resonance. Overall: Desperation Road suffers from a disjointed narrative, inconsistent tonal execution, and underdeveloped character dynamics. Despite the compelling premise and the efforts of its cast, the film fails to deliver a satisfying Southern noir experience. While there are moments of intensity and glimpses of the characters' inner turmoil, the overall execution leaves much to be desired. For viewers seeking a captivating exploration of human nature amidst a backdrop of crime and redemption, Desperation Road may not be the most fulfilling cinematic journey. If you want to watch a truly great Mel Gibson movie, you're better off just rewatching Braveheart for the millionth time. Read the full article

[zorilleerrant]

Jason thinks the reason Damian is so attached to animals is because he never really found the one that was him. And now he never will.

It’s not like with Jason. He knew exactly who he was, before, died knowing it, and never had a doubt. Or, at least, the version of him that had doubts isn’t one he really remembers clearly, being kind of out of it before the Faustian bargain that brought him all the way back, if not all the way back.

Kitty was a racoon, because of course she was, all tiny searching hands and judging eyes and the instinct to blend into shadows. And she was, before, so often, because Jason had to be quick and quiet and resourceful, too. And she was the day that Jason couldn’t find his mother’s daemon to ask if it was okay to come in, because they were tense, and it was a flexible, useful form. And then it wasn’t flexible anymore, just useful. Useful for years.

He remembers the kinds of looks people gave him, back then, when Kitty just wouldn’t ever change, and the worse ones if they found out she couldn’t except that Bruce had Ace since that night so he just pretended. The way he couldn’t when Damian showed up, nine years old and already alone. Eternal life, yes, but.

Damian carries around a little flask, as if his daemon is shifting from bug to bug, and his glare is surer than any physical measure at keeping people in the dark about it. He’s bad at making friends, sure, and everyone says it’s more how he was socialized than his real personality, but Jason thinks it’s mostly in the fear. If people find out – and that’s why he doesn’t talk about it, even through the wondering, cycling through animals like if he can somewhere find the answer then there won’t be that feeling of promises unfulfilled. Like if he knows then he can finally mourn.

See? Their family says. It hurts, but it’s a healed injury. He hasn’t lost, anywhere along the way, his ability to bond. He stores it in his flask, and his imagination.

Jason carries around a little flask, too. Calls it Kitty. Talks to it, sometimes, when he’s delirious, and doesn’t remember how shitty it’ll make him feel in the morning. Kitty was there, after, helping him claw through dirt, that much he knows. She could change again, he thinks, but she didn’t, not then. He doesn’t know when. She was gone by the time he remembered.

Damian never had one, though. Oh, well, of course he did, back when, but that was years ago at least, before the first time they threw him in the Pit. He doesn’t remember. They never had any favored forms and, as Damian vaguely suggests, sleepily, without prompting, some nights – sometimes they didn’t even have a form at all, just trembling darkness at his side. If they had a name, he doesn’t remember it. He calls his faux grasshopper Iphigeneia, but he doesn’t remember. So he surrounds himself with everything they might have been.

It’s hard to blame Bruce, some days, for assuming he wasn’t human. What’s human that’s all alone, wandering across the city crushing daemons into dust?

And that’s the crux of it, isn’t it. Jason was just some masked homunculus, a simulacrum, a philosophical zombie with a gun to someone’s head. And there the Joker was, in dire straits, and with his daemon all tied up beside him, proving once and for all that he was more human than Jason would ever be again.

(They’re just ignoring the fact that Joker’s daemon is a human, too. Everyone does.)

He can remember the look in Bruce’s eyes too clearly, once he realized, and how hard he fought not to show that look where Jason could see. A member of the family again, he reassures, if never more than half of one. Jason still sees him pull out pictures of Talia, whenever he glances too long at the shadows where Kitty used to sit, but it’s mostly back behind the charming mask, the conversation civil. With Damian –

With Damian, Bruce’s voice breaks every time he remembers. He starts topics, and takes an abrupt left turn, even though all of this stuff is stuff Damian needs to know. More than most, really, when he has no one by his side to help him fake it. It’s not like he’s willing to go to Jason with his questions, after all, engraved cricket cage or no.

Jason can tell he burned the design in by hand, you see. There’s a smudge on the corner of the J that wouldn’t be there if a machine had done it. And the W is just a little too squished.

[theloneliestshipper]

have you ever thought about a rebel bounty Witcher!AU? I just finished the books and like Boba would make a prime Witcher, he definitely gives off grumpy monster hunter vibes

I haven’t read the books myself, but I have seen the Netflix series so in the spirit of that...

AO3 Link

Witcher AU

Ten years ago, the princess was abducted. Taken prisoner by the sorcerer Jabben who wed her by force and kept her bound by enchantment to his cursed stronghold at Mospera. That’s the story they tell, the story Boba was told when he was hired.

“Doesn’t look very cursed, does it?” Fenn Shysa is a bard who sometimes travels with him, spinning songs and tales at taverns to draw in crowds and pay for their lodging. Boba prefers to work alone but he can’t argue with results. Both his ability to find work and his ability to avoid suspicious crowds with pitchforks have increased since the bard joined him.

He can’t argue with Fenn’s assessment either. The village of Mospera is clearly prosperous, the town square is decorated with flowers and banners for a market day that is coming to an end as they arrive. The rich scent of stew is in the air as the people return to their homes for supper. A vendor approaches, proffering meat pies at a discount, and Fenn swiftly charms the directions to Jabben’s keep from him.

“I’ll just stay here and wait for you,” the bard informs Boba, still smiling at the vendor. He’s a handsome man and his cheeks are very rosy when he looks at Fenn.

Boba continues on alone. No one stops him until he reaches the gate. “My name is Boba of Fett. I’m here on business to see Master Jabben.”

The guards exchange a look. They escort him to an audience chamber, where he is presently greeted by a bald man in the dignified robes of an advisor. “Greetings to you, traveler. I am called Bibar and it would be my pleasure to assist you with your business here.”

“I must see Master Jabben.”

“It’s not possible, I’m afraid.”

“It’s about his wife.”

That provokes a response. Bibar stills and then clasps his hands. “One moment, please.” When he returns, he holds the door open. “This way. The lady will speak to you.”

He’s interrupting her dinner. A generous table has been set for Princess Leia of Nabu, who reclines comfortably on cushions with a goblet of wine in her hand. The portrait he was shown gave a good likeness of her beauty, making her easily identifiable even ten years later. Her long brown hair hangs to her waist, loosely bound with ribbons, and large dark eyes watch his entrance.

“So,” she says. “You have some business here which you will not reveal, and it must have something to do with me. Speak, sir.”

“May we speak in private, my lady?”

Her eyes shift to Bibar and she gives a slight nod. “Very well.”

The advisor leaves and Boba steps forward. “My name is Boba of Fett. I was sent here to kill Jabben and break his enchantment.”

“Ahhh. But you are not a sorcerer.” She speaks with confidence, her eyes assessing. “Surely they haven’t sent a witcher.”

“What can you tell me about the curse?”

She pauses to finish the wine in her cup, the gesture unhurried. “Can I offer you a drink? Some food?”

“Are you bound from discussing it?”

“No.” She sits up a little and refills her glass from a gilded pitcher. “There is no point in discussing it. It cannot be broken.”

“All curses can be broken.”

“This one can only be broken by one thing. My maidenhead.” In the silence that follows she sighs and motions to a bench. “Sit, Witcher. I will tell you the tale.”

He does, his hand on his sword hilt. It can only be a matter of time before his purpose here is discovered.

“Jabben was a more clever rapist than most. He cursed me to never leave this keep while I was still a virgin. He knew no one else would dare touch his wife, so he thought it would force me to offer myself up to him. Then one night he was eating crushfruits in bed and choked on a pit. He died with his wish unfulfilled.”

This was a twist he did not anticipate. “Jabben is dead.”

“Dead and buried for many years.”

“But the curse remains.”

“It troubles me very little. I have done my best to be a just and fair ruler in his stead, and the people of Mospera have rewarded me with their loyalty.”

Her lack of self-pity is admirable, but something about the story doesn’t quite seem right to Boba. “You could have broken the curse on your own after Jabben’s death.”

“The only people I see are my subordinates, and how could I ask such a thing of them?” She waves her goblet with too much abandon, wine sloshing over the rim.

“You could have had someone brought to you. Someone from outside of Mospera.”

“I’m afraid the number of volunteers to enter a cursed stronghold is a slim number, present company excluded.” Her eyes drop down to his feet and back up again before she sets down her goblet. “I have had a long day of reviewing accounts and now I have indulged too much with my dinner. Please help yourself if you are so inclined. Bibar will show you out when you are ready to leave.”

She stands abruptly and sways, her hands outstretched for balance. Boba is quickly at her side, steadying her with a hand on her arm. “Perhaps we could also offer you a bath for your trouble,” she says, looking up at him with a soft, teasing smile. “I would see to it myself but I think I must go to bed.”

“Do you need help getting to your chamber, my lady?”

Her full lips part. “If you would be so kind.” He sweeps her up into his arms, and she laughs as she settles her arms around her neck. “I’ve heard so many terrible things about witchers, and yet I find you to be very pleasant company, Boba.”

He doesn’t answer. He’s already retracing his steps, moving as swiftly as he can.

“This is not the way to my chambers.” Even in her inebriated state, she notices. “Where are you taking me?”

“I thought some fresh air might do you good.”

“What? No!” She kicks and struggles, but he has a good grip and will not relinquish it. “I cannot go outside you fool-”

As soon as they’re through the gate she falls silent. Boba sets her down, and she glares at him, plainly furious. “How dare you deceive me!”

“Deceit for deceit. You broke the curse long ago, why have you not returned home?”

“This is my home! But you had to keep sniffing like some starving dog-” She shoves him, which doesn’t have much of an impact. “If you try to make me go with you I swear to you I’ll scream loudly enough to bring every soldier in the barracks.”

She tries to push him again and Boba catches her arms, holding her in place. “You don’t want me to kill your soldiers.”

Her resolve crumples a little at that. “I will not go back to Nabu.”

“Tell me what happened. The truth.”

He releases her arms and she takes a step back, drawing in a shuddering breath. “Nabu has long been under the influence of the sorcerer Palpatine. He sought to use my brother and I as bargaining chips by wedding us to empires as cruel and brutish as he wants Nabu to be. When I saw how my brother was traded off like livestock I ran. And then Jabben found me.”

Her arms fold tight over her chest as she continues. “Everything I told you about the curse was the truth. Every night before he laid down beside me he would tell me that I would give up eventually. That I would beg him to have me. So one night, as he slept, I smothered him with a pillow.”

“By yourself?”

“It was not easy. He fought, but my determination was great and I knew what the consequences would be if I failed. When I was sure his breathing had stilled I cut up the crushfruit and used the handle of a fireplace poker to push the pit down into his throat.”

“Fuck.”

“Jabben was not well liked. The people accepted his death quite readily.” She spread her hands at the walls and buildings around them. “Here I may do as I please with my life and my body. And as long as the myth of the curse prevails, I am free.”

With a heavy sigh, Boba turns away from her, his feet bound for the village.

“Where are you going?”

“To tell my bard that he’d best start writing a new song if he wants to eat tomorrow.”

“Wait.” She hurries after him. “You will leave empty-handed?”

“I came here to kill a monster. You beat me to it.”

She catches his sleeve, forcing him to halt. “Remain here tonight. In the morning I will see you and your bard fed and provisioned.”

“Why would you have me stay here?”

Her hand slides up his arm. “There are no curses to be broken here, Witcher. And no monsters to slay. But I would still welcome the company of someone who is not my subordinate.”

“You’re drunk.”

“And you are in dire need of a bath.” She steps in closer, tilting her head back to look up at him. “By the time you are clean, I will likely be sober.”

[dothwrites]

15.12 coda--a parent’s heart bared

Through the blur, I wondered if I was alone or if other parents felt the same way I did - that everything involving our children was painful in some way. The emotions, whether they were joy, sorrow, love or pride, were so deep and sharp that in the end they left you raw, exposed and yes, in pain. The human heart was not designed to beat outside the human body and yet, each child represented just that - a parent's heart bared, beating forever outside its chest.--Debra Ginsberg

---

Castiel sits on Dean’s bed, legs tucked up under him. 

It took him a long time to learn this kind of nonchalance, his body unwilling to bend after millennia of enforced rigidness. It took years to teach it how to relax, to learn how to relax into a space, how to be loose. 

He learned from Sam, but mostly he learned from Dean. How to be excessive. How to stretch out into a space. 

In the past weeks, he and Dean have had to relearn how to stretch themselves into the same space. They’ve had to learn how to fit themselves together, how to file away their jagged edges until they’re something resembling smooth. 

They’re still not perfect. There are still those discordant jangles that strike, the times when the memories rise up, bitter and choking, in the back of Cas’ throat. Sometimes, Dean will look at him and something dark and hard lurks in the back of his eyes, but those times are growing fewer and fewer. 

Mostly, Castiel relaxes into the feel of Dean. Like now, when he sheds his clothing, dropping it carelessly into the hamper, until he’s in just a t-shirt and his boxers. Castiel watches Dean brush his teeth and run his fingers through his hair, just the easy, calm routines of night, but Dean makes them look like a dance. 

Dean turns around and catches sight of Castiel watching him. “What are you looking at?” he asks, but there’s a pleased little smile on his face. Dean likes the attention, same as Castiel likes giving it. 

“Come to bed,” Castiel replies. 

“Take your damn shoes off you savage. And the coat. And the jacket. And the tie.” 

Castiel rolls his eyes, already toeing off his shoes as his fingers work at his tie. “You know that I don’t need to be undressed to find comfort.” 

“Yeah well, it’s weird trying to snuggle up to someone who’s wearing a tie. And it’s just bad manners to put your shoes on someone’s bed.” Dean’s eyes flick over his body, a swift, appreciative dart as Castiel sheds his button down. “Hey there hot stuff.” 

“It’s late and you’re tired,” Castiel says flatly, though not without a small amount of regret. 

“You’re no fun,” Dean accuses, but doesn’t try to argue against Castiel. 

Castiel settles back onto the mattress, the foam easily forming to the contours of his body. Dean follows a few moments later. Tellingly, he slots his body next to Castiel, laying his head onto Castiel’s shoulder. 

Dean is still a man of hard-broken habits, created from a lifetime of fighting and losing and hurting. Even now, he still refrains from asking for or seeking comfort unless it’s the most dire of circumstances. 

Castiel holds back, even though the words crowd on the tip of his tongue. It’s what he’s learned--he has to wait for Dean to approach him, for Dean to drop his walls and allow Castiel to help. 

He doesn’t wait long. 

“So Kaia’s going to Sioux Falls with Jody,” Dean says. His breath wafts over Castiel’s chest. Were this a different night or a different mood, this conversation might end much differently. But Castiel’s learned control--Dean doesn’t need that from him, not now at least. “I guess she’s going to be another citizen of the Wayward Girls.” 

Castiel hums in agreement, unsure of where Dean’s taking this topic. “Jody had a kid the first time we met her,” Dean continues. “A son. Her kid.” His fingers push into Castiel’s side before he continues. “Never figured out how he died the first time, but the second time...Sam put him down.” 

Castiel’s heard the stories. At the time, his vision tunneled by the upcoming apocalypse, he’d expressed what he thought were the appropriate noises of sympathy and changed the subject as quickly as he could, unable to see why he should spend sympathy on one dead human when there were billions of lives at stake. Now, with the memory of Jack’s screams still echoing through his memory, Castiel understands. 

“Losing your kid...” Dean trails off, but Castiel thinks that he’s finally managed to unravel the thread of this conversation. 

Jack is still a tender subject, the edges of the wound not quite healed. There’s too much anger, guilt, love, and worry to tape over and forget. Castiel knows; Castiel understands. But the fact remains that he never wavered in his belief and Dean...

“I thought about being a dad,” Dean says, turning his face so that it’s mostly hidden in Castiel’s lap. The heat from his breath spreads out over Castiel’s pants, turns them humid and damp, but Castiel doesn’t dare to move. After a moment, he settles his hand onto the back of Dean’s neck and lets his thumb rest in the hollow of Dean’s jaw. 

Dean relaxes into the contact. His shoulders loosen, even as his arm wraps firmly around Cas’ waist. “Just, you know. Sometimes. I knew that it was never going to happen, but still...” He trails off and Castiel lets him. He’s had to learn to let things go. To accept that some things, Dean just can’t--won’t--do. 

“Thought that I’d gotten it there for a while.” Castiel knows where Dean’s mind goes--to the year when he was with Lisa and Ben, the year where he tried his best to fit in with civilian life. To give it his best shot at normal. And meanwhile, while Dean was languishing away, Castiel was making deals with the devil. 

Castiel doesn’t care to remember those years. 

“But it wasn’t...It wasn’t...” Dean huffs in frustration. “I always said that it had to be someone in the life. Anyone else, they wouldn’t get it. They wouldn’t...And then, with you, and Sam, and Jack...It just...it worked.” 

Castiel strokes over Dean’s temple. He knows what Dean means. Jack fit into their lives, seamlessly as though he’d always been there, and Castiel had rejoiced, had found different ways to tell Dean--This is it. This is our family. This is where we put down roots.

“And then it got all blown to shit, and...I’m just thinking.” 

“About?” Castiel finally dares to ask, when Dean trails off into silence.

Dean rolls onto his side and looks at Castiel. 

“About kids. Claire, Kaia...Jack...They’re really all just kids. Every one of them...” Dean’s voice grows thick and he speaks through it; for his sake, Castiel pretends to ignore it. “Everyone of them got screwed over by their parents.” Dean inhales, loud and shaky in the silence of the room. “I always promised myself that I wasn’t going to...That if I ever had a kid, that I would...you know. I wasn’t going to be my dad.” 

Castiel’s thumb stutters to a halt before he continues. “He was a complicated man,” Castiel says after a moment, knowing the veritable minefield he’s just entered into. 

“That’s a nice way of saying that he was a dick.” Dean’s laugh is a small, sad thing. “For so long, I told myself that he did the the best he could, but he didn’t. He didn’t do the best he could--He could have stopped. He could have left us with Bobby. He could’ve...shit, I don’t know, but he could have done so many other damn things rather than what he did do. And I always said...I’d do it differently. I’d treat my kid different. I’d be better. And then I turned around and I put a gun to my kid’s head.” 

Castiel’s throat constricts. Seeing Dean, the man that he loves, the man that he had died for, would still die for...Seeing Dean standing there, his only thoughts intent upon Jack, the boy who he’d given himself up for, would eventually die for, and knowing that there was nothing but anger in Dean’s heart...If he slept, he would have nightmares about it. He still sometimes, in the strange suspension between awareness and not, thinks about it and what he could have done differently. Still examines the what-ifs from every angle, just to see--Was there anything he could have done? 

“It’s over,” Castiel says, for Dean’s benefit but partially for his. “Jack is back, and...” He tries to put into words, how much Dean has changed. How much better it is now--the automatic trust. The way that Dean’s eyes shift to his, checking in. The surprising lack of temper, even as sometimes their world caves in around them. It’s so much better, and Castiel needs to tell Dean.

“I let him down Cas. I let him down, Sam...I let you down...And all I wanted to do was to things right. To make it better for him. For all of them.”  

Dean puts a small emphasis on the word ‘all’ and Castiel knows what he’s thinking of--not just Jack, alone and afraid, so much newer to the world than any of them, but also Claire, Kaia, Patience, Alex...All the children they’ve met along the way, battered and broken, who deserved better. 

“So we’ll make it better.” The certainty settles in Castiel, above his roiling doubts and fear. “We’ll fight Chuck...We’ll end Chuck, and we’ll make it better.”

“Yeah?” Dean looks up at him, but it’s hope and not doubt in his eyes. “You think?”

Castiel holds Dean close and pushes away all of his doubts and fears--of how they’re going to kill the creator of the universe, what doing so will do to his boy, how he and Dean will weather the change, of the gloom and blackness slowly gathering at the corners of his vision, a reminder of a deal unfulfilled and a debt unpaid. 

He pushes all of that away and concentrates on what he knows to be true: Dean beside him. Dean, flawed and human but trying, always trying to be better. Castiel holds onto the hope that the past few weeks have given him, holds on so tight and so long that he thinks that it might cut him to ribbons. There’s not another option. Not for them, and not for him. 

“I know,” Castiel replies. 

---

Perhaps it takes courage to raise children.--John Steinbeck 

[aeondeug]

hikari-ni-naritai asked:2, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13, 17, 19, 23, 29 :3

2: Company you’re always loyal to? - I guess Nintendo counts as closest to loyalty? But even Nintendo I've gone "Wow fuck you people" to a lot. Especially of recent! If I am truly loyal to anything it's Dragon Quest. Like that specific part of Squeenix. The rest of the company can burn. I just need the people who churn out the same damned game on the regular like Grandma making me chicken noodle soup. 3: Best game you’ve ever played? - This is a very hard thing to go by. In terms of like. Artsy shit and how it made me feel and what I feel about it as art and was it fun while also doing that. Nier: Automata. Probably. In terms of like sheer fun and I just keep replaying it over and over though...Dragon Quest 3. That's a damned near perfect fucking jrpg. I love aspects of some of the later games more than it, but 3's just got a nice perfect mix of stuff going on that makes it endlessly replayable in a way that, say, 7 just is not. 5: A popular series/game you just can’t get into no matter how much you try? - I've tried Breath of the Wild several times now. I have some fun with it, but I inevitably get very bored of it and then never finish it. In general it just feels very lacking in things that compel me to finish a game or really love it. And the general design ethos leaves me feeling very unfulfilled. Like I like the electricity puzzles in Gerudo Desert a lot, but I'd rather just have like one big dungeon and an area leading up to it that just builds on that concept. With each further step getting harder than the last. Which is to say, I just want an older styled Zelda game puzzle wise. In particular, Skyward Sword I feel is the gold standard for puzzles and dungeon design in the 3D games. 7: A game you’ll never forget? - Nier: Automata feels like cheating but honestly that. Ocarina of Time and Final Fantasy 7 also have intros that are just burned into my brain because they were the first 3D games I ever saw. As much as I hate sitting through the OoT starting cutscene on replays there is just a charm to it that no other Zelda since has had. Indeed, they can't have it. 11: Hardest game you’ve played? - Any fighting game, honestly. Strive right now is currently proving to be The Impossible Thing for me. Especially because we're very determined to play as Giovanna. Gio's a rushdown with no ranged options and limited options in terms of safely getting into someone's face. She's extremely good on maintaining pressure so long as you keep up in someone's jock but like. I do not, in general, keep up in anyone's jock. I am terrified of that, in fact, and generally prefer to stay mid range or on the far side of the screen, only engaging as I so choose. I'm a coward by nature and I think too much. Gio feels fucking impossible to me because you have to be brave and turn your brain off to play her, and unlike May she does not have ANY projectile options. It is daunting and sometimes soul crushing. But like if I keep at it, I'll learn. And I just got to make friends and it'll be fun. 13: A game you were the most excited for when it wasn’t released yet? - Any Dragon Quest game but Dragon Quest 4's psx port gets a very special mention. Because it never got brought over. Period. I saw the ad for it on the back of DQ7's manual and so excited for a remake on a console I had. Because at the time 4 was my favorite of the series. And then it just...Never got brought overseas. This sucked. 17: What game do you never tell people you play? - I will tell people to play many things. A lot of questionable things. Even Castlevania 64 I will stand up for. I will not tell people to play Rule of Rose though. Not even I have played Rule of Rose. No one should play Rule of Rose. It is the best survival horror game you should not spend 300 dollars on and even emulating it is questionable. Just watch a let's play. 19: Which game do you think deserves a revival? - Rule of Rose needs a fucking remake. Like. Direly. It's such a good game in terms of aesthetic, thematics, characters, horror, etc. But the game's combat is some of the worst the genre has ever had and it makes actually playing it very unfun. That on top of copies being extremely rare and very pricey just...I wish it could be remade. So people could experience it. 23: Biggest disappointment you’ve had in gaming? - Breath of the Wild. It was a Zelda with none of the things I like about Zelda but all of the things I don't really care much about in Zelda. And after hearing for a year how lovely it was from people that just. Sucks? I had fun on the Great Plateau and then I had a horrifying moment where I realized that these were all the tools I was getting. And then my weapons broke. And then I got to a Divine Beast because I was told those were the dungeons and it was fun I guess but it wasn't even a Fire Temple let alone a Water Temple. We went from things like the Ancient Cistern and the Pirate's Stronghold to the Vah Ruta. That's such a step back. It basically has the reverse of the problem that Skyward Sword had. Where instead of sacrificing overworld exploration for better dungeons and tools, it sacrificed dungeons and tools for overworld exploration and freedom. And I just don't care for it. 29: Which is more important, gameplay or story? - This entirely depends on the kind of game it is and even then I'm not at all convinced that story is intrinsically something that can be "in the way". Is Guilty Gear's story necessary to enjoy the games? No. It's not. Is Guilty Gear better for having its ridiculous plot wherein a guy who names himself Sol Badguy has to kill copies of his wife repeatedly while hunting for a catboy twink he calls That Man? Yes. Yes it is. Dear gods yes.

[bottleofspilledink]

God's Watching, Put on a Show || Chapter III

"All students please gather at the gymnasium for some announcements." Mary's voice rang over the speakers.

As student council president, most of her mornings were spent in the nun's office, going over papers for school events, speaking through the announcement system, and snooping through files to get dirt on people she saw as beneath her.

How did Eve know about all this? Mary herself would tell her and Elizabeth while they did each other's hair, shedding her holier-than-thou exterior whenever they were safely tucked away in her room.

"Let's go?" Elizabeth said, getting up from the bench. The gym was far from the courtyard and if they wanted to make it there in time, they'd have to go now.

"Mmhm." Eve packed her books and they left the courtyard, listening to her friend blab on about the boy she was meeting in secret.

Boyfriends were against the rules. Having one would lead to dire consequences, that included, but we're not limited to: a conference with your parents, a lecture on chastity, a lecture on God's plan for man and woman, a lecture on marriage, and a forced separation of the student that was caught and the boy.

Girlfriends were also against the rules. Though the consequences of having one were much worse than the other. Punishment for that might include, but isn't limited to: a lecture on God's plan for man and woman, a lecture on marriage, becoming a social pariah, being sent to conversion therapy, being disowned by your parents, or death, either by their hand or yours.

"You know, if you're not careful, you could end up pregnant."

The girl only scoffed at the notion. "As if! He always pulls out before finishing, so we'll be fine."

They turned a corner and were nearly separated as others entered alongside them.

"Besides," Elizabeth before she went off to find her section's line, "if he gets me pregnant, then he can't leave!"

Eve found her place in line and wondered if a child would compel him to stay with her or make him hate her for tying him down.

After all, she often heard her mother and her friends complain about the unfaithful husbands they were forced to stay with, complaining about how men hated settling down.

They would warn her not to trust boys, not to date them, while still silently knowing that one day, she would end up just like them, obligated with children they never wanted and unhappily married with men they could never leave lest they anger their God.

But of course, it sounded terrible when you said it like that.

Eve was certain it was better experienced than she thought it to be.

At least, she liked to hope it was.

They would get their just rewards in heaven, or so the women thought, sipping at their wine and laughing at the picture of their husbands and their mistresses burning in hell fire.

Eve knew however, from hushed sobs she would hear, late, late into the nights her father wasn't home that they were all insecure, sad, angry, and so, so, unfulfilled.

They didn't have the youth or beauty of their husband's mistresses.

They wept at the love letters they used to get with promises of eternal love.

They were angry for being treated like they were disposable.

But most of all they felt cheated, robbed of the futures they should have had.

Eve's mother was going to be a realtor agent before she decided to be a housewife instead.

Her friend, Nancy, was supposed to be an English teacher before she got married to her brother's friend.

And her friend, Amy, a nineteen year old fresh out of high school, was supposed to take a degree in arts before she got pregnant near the end of her senior year.

It was all Eve could think about while the set up for what seemed like an abrupt student assembly happened around her.

This was her future.

And she was going to have to grin and bear it if she wanted to keep her precious God's love.

She was usually able to forget about what awaited her after graduation. With years of practice, finding something else to put her mind to wasn't so hard.

But Elizabeth chattering on about her new boyfriend had made the topic unavoidable. And while Eve was able to tune a good deal of it out, her friend had simply teased her, saying she was so distracted because she had a boyfriend of her own to think about.

In reality, she was thinking about Lilith.

What she had heard of her from Mary, from the other gossiping girls, and what she thought she was like from her own experience.

(And, just maybe, her mind still lingered on the sliver of skin that had revealed itself when she stretched. But that stays between us.)

The speeches and announcements went through one ear and exited the next as Eve had yet to pull her head from the clouds, hearing all that was said but not registering a word.

When the people around her stood, she rose a second later, not fully out of her daze. Though the moment they left the gym, she could tell something important had happened.

"I can't believe they're really doing this to us," a girl she passed by lamented, "it's like they think we're first graders or something."

The grumbling came from everyone in the halls but Eve had yet to hear enough to understand it all.

"There you are!" Mary said, pushing through a small crowd to get to her.

"What did you think of the announcement?" She panted, cheeks bright pink and devoid of their usual cover-up. The morning announcements must have given her no time to do her make up.

"I didn't hear it, the girls next to me were too noisy." That was partially true, Eve reasoned to herself, she really hadn't heard anything but not because of the noise.

"Just tell me what I need to know."

"Alright," Mary sighed, though she wasn't sure if it was one of frustration or if she was just out of breath. If the courtyard was far from the gym, more so the nun's office.

"Basically, the nuns have created a sort of buddy system where two girls would be paired together, given the same schedule, and are tasked with watching over each other and reporting any offences they commit." She explained as they strolled leisurely through the cloisters.

"They say it's to keep us from temptation and build a sense of community..." She leaned in closer to whisper. "But between you and me, it's so that they can find out who started the fire."

"What's gonna happen to them?"

"Hmm?"

"The people who started the fire, I mean."

"Going by word of mouth, they're going to be expelled and maybe even sued." Eve could hardly believe the excitement in Mary's voice. A court case would only lead to more papers to peek at for her and endless suffering to the girl who it was for.

"But that's not what I came here to talk about," she said, crowd around them thinning.

"I just wanted to warn you."

"What?"

"You got paired with Lilith Damien, you know, the troublemaker?" She put in her locker combination and yanked her bag out. "She's one of the suspects and even if she wasn't, she's still a bit of a problem student."

"Okay, but why'd you need to warn me? I don't think she's going to hurt me, that would get her suspended."

Mary raised a no longer so perfect eyebrow at her, green eyes narrowing. The look she sent her made Eve feel like was nothing more than a daft cow or a brain dead five year old.

"You don't know that! Look, I'm warning you become she's... well, you know." Mary's tone softened in implication.

"She's what?"

"That she's, you know," She nudged Eve with her elbow, hard bone pressing into her soft sides rather painfully.

"No, Mary, I don't know. Just tell me."

"Alright, alright. The thing is, Lilith's a," she cupped a hand to Eve's ear and leaned in close, her breath hot as her small bust pressed against her friend's arm, "lesbian."

The word was uttered like it was a curse, despicable and dirty. No better than a disease that plagued the weak-willed and the depraved.

And to Mary, it was just that.

Eve visibly paled at the word, going completely stiff as nerves took over her body.

"I know, I'm just as disgusted out as you are."

"H-How did you even know?" Her palms grew damp and her fingers reached for her hair instinctively, twiddling with the ends and wrapping it around her finger so strongly that the tip turned a vivid red.

"Margaret said she saw her and the exchange student making out in the library last year."

"Ah..." Eve didn't know the validity of Margaret's claims, but if she was basing it off of past experience, it wasn't much more than the gum on her shoe.

"So be careful, okay? I don't want you being taken advantage of..."

As mean as Mary could be sometimes, Eve knew she had her best interests at heart and nodded, if only for show.

They may have only met, but she trusted Lilith enough to know that she wouldn't intentionally harm her.

"Good. I'm gonna go, can you head to class on your own?"

"I'll be fine," Eve said, Mary promptly leaving after.

She had arrived just in time for Sister Eunice entered the moment she sat down.

The next few hours were spent in a constant state of questioning, paying little to no mind to what was being taught.

Was she now scared of Lilith because she was rumored to be a.... that? (Not even in the privacy of her mind could she say that word. It was as if evem thinking it would be an admission of some sort. Though one does not need an admission to be a that.) She didn't think herself to be. After all, it was fine to have homosexual thoughts, as long as you didn't act on them.

Though apparently, Lilith had already acted on the thoughts... this didn't quite faze Eve either.

Was that going to pose a problem?

"Probably not," she reasoned to herself.

Mary told Eve to be careful, not scared.

Did that say anything about Eve? For her own sake, she hoped not.

Even in her most absurd thoughts did she think that Lilith could be a that.

She looked nothing like the ones they were taught about. She didn't have short hair, or tattoos, or piercings. She wasn't ugly to the point that she would repulse men. Far from it.

Eve thought she looked gorgeous. Who wouldn't? With her sharp, alluring features mixed with soft skin and fiery, red hair that shone beautifully in the sun, the girl could have anyone.

In fact, she wouldn't be surprised if she found out that Lilith already had a boyfriend.

Just disappointed.

Though, of course, she would never admit this.

Not even to herself.

Similar things flitted in and out of her mind until the lunch bell forced her back to reality.

"Class dismissed, girls." The nun packed her papers and left, other's quickly following suit.

Since it was Wednesday, Eve didn't share her lunch block with Mary or Elizabeth.

For her, this meant either awkwardly asking someone if she could sit at their table, or skipping the humiliation altogether and sneaking her food into the library.

Today, she opted for the second option. She got in line, grabbed two sandwiches and left, all the while stuffing them into her messenger bag.

"Good afternoon, Sister Deborah."

"Welcome back, Eve." The elderly nun by the front desk said to her softly, quite used to her presence here.

The nun's would never let it on, but it was an unspoken truth between them that Eve was a favourite of theirs. All who taught her knew she was an absolute delight. She was smart, well-mannered, pious, and all around a good girl.

The blonde made her way to her usual seat, waving at Sister Anne on the way. She was one of the few nuns here to have taken a vow of silence, thus the usual greetings wouldn't do.

Eve got to her spot, only to find that it had been taken up by what had occupied her mind all day.

"Lilith."

"Something you need, Eve?" She was smirking, leaning deeper into the plush armchair, positioning herself in such a way could almost be considered lounging, a show of relaxation she should covet.

Now, in most situations, Eve could be considered a pacifist. She was rarely assertive, never wanting to cause a fuss. It was considered rude, improper, and it just wasn't what a good Christian would do, disturb others.

There were very few things in the world she would stand up for.

This was one of them.

"That's my spot."

Lilith's eyes widened at that, then a short bark of laughter that echoed through the silent space came from her and she rose.

"And so it is."

She then sank into the armchair beside it, the scratchy one, if Eve remembered correctly, and melted into it, seemingly unaffected by the patchy fabric.

"Thank you." Eve sat down in her rightful place only after smoothing her skirt over, bag plopped onto her lap.

She was about to pull out the food when she was suddenly reminded of Lilith's presence by the all too familiar sound of shifting cloth.

As good an actor she was, the itch would get her soon enough.

"You know, you don't need to sit in an armchair. Just bring a stool over or try a different one." Eve said, trying to be helpful by stating the obvious.

"I could do that, yeah," Lilith shrugged, "but that would mean that of all the things to lose to, I lose to a chair, so I'd rather not."

"Who said everything had to be a competition?"

"Who said that everything wasn't a competition?" Lilith tapped her temple, a smirk once again etching itself onto her features.

Eve decided to play along, crossing her arms in pretend dominance. "I said so."

"And why should I listen to you?"

"Who else would you listen to?" She quipped, sharp but friendly.

The two giggled this and continued their back and forth banter, unaware of the time til Eve's eyes had strayed from Lilith's to the clock on the desk.

"Ah, the sandwiches!" Eve said in a panic, removing her arms that were pressed against her bag, surely squishing the bread.

Too worried about the mayonnaise getting all over her notebooks, she yanked them out of her bag, not bothering to think as to why she had hid them there in the first place.

"My, oh my, someone has brought food into the library," Lilith whispered, a look of mock scandal adorning her face.

"What? N-No, I was just-" Eve glanced around frantically, as if an alibi would appear on the painting of Saint Joan of Arc strung up on the wall.

"Think of something. Say something, you idiot!" Her eyes bounced from wall to wall and she found herself reaching for her hair once more.

At the genuine fear on her face, Lilith's smile dropped. "Hey, it's fine, don't worry about it. I'm kidding, Eve, really."

"I'm sorry. I don't do this often, I swear, it's just embarrassing to eat lunch alone so I thought-"

"Really, it's fine. I'm not gonna tell anybody." Lilith said, voice soft and soothing as she could make it. "Hell, I've done way worse than sneak some sandwiches in. You've got nothing to worry about here."

"Like what?"

Lilith held out her pinky. "Promise not to tell anyone?"

"I promise." Eve nodded, her own pinky reaching for Lilith's.

It sounded horrible, but hearing about how others had done worse would always make her feel better, superior. It would serve as a small reassurance that she'd yet to hit rock bottom.

Though she wasn't exactly certain she hadn't hit it already for the feeling of Lilith's finger intertwined with her was enough to send her spiralling.

"Okay, then." She leaned in close, bright hair brushing Eve's shoulders as the girl's warm fingers rested on her flushed cheek, cupping the small space between her ear and her mouth, hot breath nearly wracking Eve's body with uncontrollable and unexplainable shivers.

It felt so different from when Mary would whisper to her, though if asked to put it into words how, all you'd get was a few false starts and heavy, thought-filled silence.

The overwhelming sensation of it all nearly blocked out Lilith's words, though when they finally settled in, an explosion wouldn't have been able to block it out.

"Oh. That's... worse." It was all she could muster.

How could she possibly reply to that?

The girl laughed, an uneasy and regret filled noise that seemed so strange coming from her.

"I won't tell anyone, as promised." Eve rubbed at her pinky finger. If she wasn't mistaken, Lilith had either applied hand sanitizer just before she showed up or her hands were just so naturally soft.

"We've got about five minutes of lunch left, so if you wanna gobble those up real fast, I can be blind for a good three minutes."

She let out a breathless laugh, unwrapping the bread and offering the other to Lilith.

"What's in it?"

"Just some eggs and mayo."

"Sweet." She sat back down in her chair and they ate in silence, Eve still a bit too shaken to go back to their previous banter.

After, they shoved the mayo stained tinfoil wrapper into their pockets, crinkling with every step, their own inside joke.

The air hung heavy with unvoiced tension, as if the whispered words were a haunting presence just behind them as they walked to class.

At some point, their hips bumped together and much to their surprise, Eve burst into hysterical laughter at the noise that was crushed tinfoil.

With that, the awkwardness dissolved.  They were closer now. Bonded by secrets and sandwiches and itchy armchairs.

Eve would rather have a hundred late detentions than have this moment taken from her.

And, as she would later come to know, so would Lilith.