#his work has been so influential on my art

[blackvelvetofnight]

just a few of my favorite sam wolfe connelly pieces

[occamstfs]

Sticky Fingers

Junpei finds himself drawn to sneak an early peak at Arcadio Carvajal's new exhibition. When the chance to take a piece home presents itslef, he'll find himself a little more than changed from the experience.

My first sequel! Arcadio from Marichismo decides to take the chance to find a new assistant and lover! In other don't forget to vote on my Viral Transformation poll, ends Sunday! Otherwise enjoy this tale of muscle growth and otherwise masculine changes! -Occam

Junpei can’t believe that he somehow hadn’t heard about this art exhibition until just now. Like many a young thirsty gay across the country he does well to keep a tab on the illustrious (Read: Hot) work of Arcadio Carvajal. Many institutions are a little hesitant to host an artist whose name may well be synonymous with sexual provocateur but, with attendance numbers down across the board, even more museums are thrilled at the chance to host a man who almost magically draws in hordes of adoring patrons.

His latest exhibition on homoeroticism in popular culture is setting attendance records at just about every museum it stops at. Junpei was beyond thrilled when his friend Corey leaked that the gallery he works at was going to be hosting an exhibition of Arcadio’s starting tomorrow! Ignoring any concerns as to how odd it is that he’s not heard anything about the opening until the night before, Junpei grabs his backpack and makes for the gallery immediately, almost as if possessed. Something in his chest flutters with anticipation as he wanders the few blocks down to the hall where he’ll hopefully be able to sneak an early peek of some of the works on display. 

Making the trip down a few blocks with haste he finds  there’s surprisingly little activity at all in or around the gallery. Sure it’s after hours but the night before an opening, let alone an opening by an artist as impressive as Arcadio Carvajal? You’d think there would be some last minute prep work to be done. Skulking up to nonchalantly look through the front door, he puts his weight on it just as a little test. Just to see if it's locked, no overt plans as to what he would do with the information, he just wanted to know. Just wanted to see.

When the door gives, he can’t suppress the grin rising on his lips. In for a penny, he decides. Fighting to keep his expression guiltless he surreptitiously looks around to make sure no one’s watching the entrance before he sneaks into the dark hall. He tries to scheme up an alibi as he digs out his phone to use as a flashlight. Probably wouldn’t buy that he thought they were open. Could just say he was supposed to meet his friend here, though he’d hate for Corey to catch blowback. Junpei then rolls his eyes as he figures he could come up with something on the spot, if he’s even caught that is! Adrenaline keeps his conspiratorial mind from noticing he of course already has been, as the gallery’s cameras follow the young student into the exhibition hall holding Arcadio’s exciting exhibit.

The amateur intruder almost has a heart attack as he steps into the gallery proper and the lights flash on. Stumbling into a wall in shock, he ducks behind a display case and nervously scopes out the new space he finds himself in. After quietly ensuring that no one is actively here, Junpei chalks the lights up to be automatic and hastens his pace. Switching off his now unneeded flashlight, he starts scoping out the litany of artwork dedicated to the male form surrounding him.

His excitement eclipses whatever paltry dregs of anxiety or fear remain as he sees the works of incredibly influential artists gathered here. Junpei knew Arcadio was a titan but he could never have expected the prolific art that fills this place. First things first, as he enters he sees a diptych of the artist himself, under his breath he murmurs, “god he’s so fucking hot.” Somewhere out of sight surveillance footage shines onto a man watching him explore the gallery as he mischievously smirks.

On the student’s left are a wall of nudes and more softcore fare from artists across the ages. Mizers and Mapplethorpes hang floor to ceiling alongside more modern work by Arcadio and his own gay contemporaries. Near the far side there seems to be a whole section dedicated to portraiture of St. Sebastian but Junpei is less eager to explore the thorough history of homoerotic photography. Certainly a medium that has brought him endless pleasure, as it were, but they may as well just be prints to him. No, he wants to see the real stuff.

Wandering past some dozen miniature recreations of Michaelangelo’s David made of shining plasticine latex, some clad in leather, others in the buff as the artist intended, Junpei finds what he snuck in for. Spotlights shine down unto the wall opposite the photography, teeming with works from gay trailblazers of the art world. Namely the ones whose primary focus was on nothing but bulging fetishistic muscle and strong-jawed pretty boys. Those who crafted overt unapologetic pornography and others who snuck homoeroticism covertly to the masses. This is to say there is more work by Tom of Finland and Leyendecker than he could possibly appreciate in this brief time alone. 

He spends as long as he thinks he can just staring at the work. Drinking in the graphite scraped bulges and tight leather uniforms of the massive men drawn by the Finn. Reverberations from his work still echo into the art and lusty imaginations of countless gay men today. Indeed upon gracing dear Junpei’s eyes they immediately cause some mobility issues to arise. He struggles with his pants as he struggles to walk forward with a package that only surges harder with each fervent tug of his pants. His rising issue stops not as he moves on to observe the bright colors and hungry eyes of the men in Leyendecker’s advertisements. Masculine forms idealized and gleaming opposed with the raw heightened sex found in the work nearby. Junpei can barely control the desire coursing through him, but knowing he can’t stay forever the young man continues onward, biting his lip as he tries to will his boner away. 

Going through a curtain into a still darkened room, it takes a second for Junpei’s eyes to adjust before he sees a room dedicated to non-western homoeroticism. Finding aged Chinese scrolls of gay eroticism he snaps pictures, quite thankful that they are less visceral arousing than the work he just left behind, though he’s decidedly happy to see some shred of himself in the gallery. Turning around he gasps as he sees something he wasn’t quite expecting. Next to a wall of more deliberately pornographic bara men he sees panels from his favorite mangaka depicting bulging muscled men in provocative poses. But more thrilling than that, it seems the main sketch isn’t in a display case. It’s just sitting there, loose, free.

Junpei doesn’t know what came over him, he wasn’t even planning on coming in illicitly, but staring at the crisp art in front of him he cannot stop himself as he pulls a folder from his backpack. Before he can even issue a command to his body, the sketch is already in his bag and he’s sprinting away. The smirk of the man watching his every move grows wider as he watches Junpei clumsily flee the scene. Fleeing out the door into the dark streets, Junpei pushes past other students thoughtlessly as he races home, delirium setting in as struggles to understand and realize what he just did. Slamming his apartment door behind him he yoinks out the swiped art. He isn’t sure if it’s the image itself or the exhilaration from his crime but his only recently stilled cock begins to harden once more. 

Mind barely present what can he do but obey his rising erection. Junpei begins to masturbate, staring at his stolen artwork, panting as he quickly comes close; free hand moving thoughtlessly he feels it scrape against something taped to the back of the sketch. Eyebrows furrowing as he continues to beat his meat, Junpei turns the picture around and he instantly stops as his blood grows cold. “Evening Junpei. I know what you did. See you Soon. Yours, Arcadio Carvajal.” Junpei drops the drawing and it flutters to the floor, lying face down, leaving the note facing up at him. His mind escapes from whatever haze compelled him to commit larceny as his thoughts race faster than could possibly be productive. 

What do I do? I need to bring it back now. How did that note get there!? It certainly has my name on it, and it’s signed by Arcadio. Fear seizes him as he backs away from the stolen piece, tripping over the pants that had fallen around his ankles. In his scrambling he falls back and hits his head. Before he completely loses himself to unconsciousness he sees the picture purloined face up once more. Groaning as his vision begins to fade, his eyes latch onto his legs as searing pain slowly burns through him. Cresting into a trancelike state he mumbles incoherently as it almost seems like veins are bulging onto his thighs?

Perhaps unsurprising given the prominence of Arcadio in what lead him into this stupor, but as he’s truly overtaken Junpei sees the massive artist himself. The man’s arms are crossed but the expression on his face is not one of judgment or disdain at Junpei’s actions. Rather, to the best of the young man’s judgment, it looks like one of anticipation. Junpei tries to speak but finds his mouth dry up as the man across from him waves a finger, “Ah ah ah mi ladrónito. I believe you have something of mine.” The eponymous little thief pats himself down trying to dream his plunder into existence but produces naught. Arcadio pouts his lips but there is a sparkle of mischief in his eyes.

“Well perrito. For your little transgression I think you owe me, si? Think I could use some more hands on deck to watch out for petty thieves, don’t you?” Arcadio’s expression loses all the performative animosity that remains as he looks at Junpei with glee and his intentions begin to suffuse the young man. Feeling his ability to speak return, Junpei opens his mouth but before he can produce a word he is wracked with burning pain from the artist's stare.

Beginning from his feet, clad in the cheap tennis shoes that he wore to his haphazard heist, heat sears the soles of his feet. At first it’s as if he’s standing on coals before simmering down to the pain of sprinting across a hot beach; finally it shifts to the pleasant warmth of a warm footbath. Pain swiftly gives way to pleasure as Junpei flexes his feet just to ensure he feels every sensation he can, only then does he feel his toes bump against the front of the small shoe, just as the bridge of his foot strains against the tongue. Junpei grunts as he hears stitches begin to give way, toes blasting through the cheap fabric while his soles rear through the sides and spill onto the floor as his feet totally eclipse the remains of his shoe.

Looking down at feet that may as well need clown shoes compared to the petit ones he’s always had, Junpei feels some new instinct in his mind. Almost like an intrusive thought, he feels a need to be brash, to spar with the man he so respects more than anything. Ignoring his usual nature he follows this instinct, it’s just a dream right? Fighting through the pain and pleasure still coursing through him, Junpei speaks up, “Grgh- What are you- Are you giving me a foot fetish or what?” Arcadio’s face lights with a smile as he hears the young man speak up with the slightest amount of acid on his tongue. With no words to betray his emotion at the seed of Junpei’s changing psyche he moves his eyes up to Junpei’s legs.

“Oh what the fu-” he’s unable to even finish the thought as his whole body convulses with the sensation of his legs lengthening before they start to pack on muscle. Shooting almost a foot higher, Junpei falls back on his ass as he clenches at his calves and thighs. His gaze follows Arcadio’s as the man stares at his tight calves, expanding with each pulse of the heart. Just like every other inch of Junpei’s body there’s initially little at all impressive, and then they flex larger, and then there's a bulge that will never leave, and then there is a calf that would inspire jealousy by any lesser men who glimpses it. More than baseballs, muscle bulges enough for even socks large enough for his massive feet would struggle to contain them. This is nothing however compared to the transformation moving upwards into his thighs. 

Veins bulge thick as power seeps upwards, burning warmth sears his hands as they clutch at the hocks of meat that now constitute his thighs. Junpei blushes as he sees new distinct masses bulge out of his once bony thighs. Staring down at his increasingly powerful lower body he is filled with determination to get them even larger. The need for power begins to wash over whatever ideals or needs the young man had before this dream. Seeing the thick veins clearly pump and bulge larger with each beat of his heart, Junpei traces them with his finger and bites his lip as Arcadio can’t help but stare at the growing package that demands attention from the both of them.

Arcadio is more than pleased to stare, each second spent lingering on the cock sends waves of pleasure through Junpei as his mind struggles to parse that his cock and balls are stretching larger by the second. Quickly surging higher and thicker, his dick eclipses the size its been at its most turgid erection before now and it still pushes further with each groping grasp and sweaty breath. Similarly, beneath it his balls hang lower and the few dark hairs that shade his groin grow thicker and curl longer as his heavy balls rapidly increase production of the hormones this increasingly massive body demands. He cannot help but thrust into the air, his thin arms struggling to support the power his thighs summon. Landing back on his ass it too bulges larger with every flexing movement, quickly regaining its position as the largest muscle on the body as it becomes a bubble butt that would entice even the least male-interested eyes.

Moving on, lest Junpei blow his load all over himself, Arcadio's eyes continue upward to begin the most impressive work yet. Junpei groans as he desperately needs a break from the overwhelming pleasure burning in his lower body. He drags his hands across his inner thigh,  feeling callouses scratch his sensitive sweaty skin before palming his cock to a spurt of pre before moving on. His fingers trace towards his torso as veins begin to trail upwards, crossing his abs as they bulge into existence.

His body involuntarily goes into a crunch as every powerful ab cramps, sending stabbing pain and searing pleasure through his mind. Drool flings out of his mouth as he launches forward moaning. Junpei’s rougher hands grab his beefy thighs to prevent himself from falling backwards once again. His eyes almost cross as he seemingly loses control of any unengaged motor function. Across from him Arcadio just smirks and watches as Junpei’s sweat soaked hair changes from the same unintentional look he’s had all his life into something far more deliberate and fashionable. Exactly what he would want in a body man.

Hearing the strained groans and hungrily looking to the ephemeral expression dancing across Junpei’s face, Arcadio hesitates before continuing. Feeling the briefest of pauses from otherworldly bliss, Junpei cries out, his voice rumbling deeper as he finds his neck has thickened, “Mrgh- Don’t stop boss. I want, more.” The artist’s lips twitch as he is more than happy to obey the thief’s desires. After all, it's about time to get to his favorite part. At the same time Junpei’s mind flickers to the massive pecs that he so enjoyed observing at the museum as he begins to feel building pressure, increasing potential, on his chest.

Summoning a laser focus, Arcadio stares at Junpei’s arms and currently non existent pecs. He has trouble ignoring the bulge dawning in his own pants as he sees Junpei’s stick thin arms begin to bulk up. Immediately his arms fly behind him as he rapidly alternates between stretching them and flexing. With each thrust away from his body into the air they lengthen, fingertips shoot longer as his palms widen. With every bulging flex veins are forced to protrude even further through his faultless skin. His biceps may as well be forged of cast iron as they become impossible to ignore, power courses through them as from now on even the smallest movement causes a medley of muscle to dance across his beastly arms.

In between his bulging biceps, above the cobblestone abs, underneath shoulders still widening and taps pushing against a shirt that barely holds on, his pecs finally begin to receive the attention they have always lacked. Junpei’s nipples increase from the dimesize they’ve ever held into half-dollar protrusions that will be impossible to hide under a shirt. Similarly, the measly pecs they stand strong on begin to grow at a rate more prominent than any change so far. 

The sound of Junpei’s shirt giving way to muscle he couldn’t truly fathom before now burgeoning onto his chest overwhelms him more than he could ever know. In the moment of them bursting larger than life, he feels himself let loose of whatever restraining fragments of his past self remain. He wasn’t sure what caused him to take the sketch from the gallery, but Arcadio knew he would. Arcadio Carvajal, his boss, clearly had more planned for him than Junpei ever could imagine. As his pecs bloat beyond reason and he feels his chest pulse with power does he give himself totally over to become the perfect, powerful man that not for a moment in his life he thought he could become. 

His body shines with sweat as he finally loses control, loosing load after load into the white dreamscape around him. He opens his mouth to cry Arcadio’s name but before a sound could release he finds his godly body pressing up against one of the few men he considers an equal. His new burning muscled form grinds against that of Arcadio. Getting his sweat all over his boss, his lover, his best friend, Junpei smirks in between labored breaths and slobbered kisses. Somehow feeling the scratch of Arcadio’s chest through his shirt the new body man can’t help but frot against the artist’s torso.

Shoving his bearded face into Junpei’s neck, which certainly doesn’t help matters, Arcadio moves his scratchy mouth to his lover’s ear and whispers, “Me esperas… See you soon mi amor.” Seeding desire more potent than anything, every bulging muscle clenches and forces itself larger one last time. Every inch of his impossibly large, inhumanly powerful new form sizzles with the capacity for more pleasure than could ever be bestowed upon him before. Junpei will evermore dominate any room he decides to grace. He will do so physically and intangibly with an aura that exudes strength and entices the appetites of all, though perhaps that due to constantly sweating through any clothing or deodorant he throws on within an hour. 

Feeling emptiness fill him as Arcadio disappears from his dream after whispering in his ear, the now massive man has no recourse besides willing himself to wake up. And so he does.

Junpei wakes up on the floor of the apartment he’s been renting with Arcadio in the leadup to their new exhibition, for some reason the back of his head is sore as if he hit it. Though that’s nothing compared to the soreness that absolutely fills every last inch of his body. The giant groans as he wills his titanic upper body to sit up and smirks as he sees the sweat he must have just worked up. Scratching his pits and struggling not to sniff his hand after, his head briefly filled with countless memories of Arcadio chiding his poor hygiene, he hesitates before noticing some expensive paper lying on the ground. 

Tilting his head and grabbing a nearby towel to wipe the sweat almost dripping from his hand, he takes great care to grab whatever this is without getting too much of himself on it. Turning it around he’s floored to see a sketch that’s supposed to be on the museum wall right now, worse than that it’s from an area that Arcadio has left to him! Taking no time at all to question how this possibly ended up here, Junpei puts it in one of Arcadio’s artsafe folders and sprints down the street to the gallery. 

For being the assistant of such a fastidious man, Junpei has a habit of letting things slip through the cracks, but Arcadio never minds. He knows in the end Junpei will always more than make up for it, always aiming to go above and beyond and, somehow, more often than not exceeding what Arcadio even thought was possible. Entering the gallery the behemoth switches into the closest thing to a sneak that he can muster, unfortunately his massive clumsy feet would always betray his presence. His lover smiles as he hears Junpei’s failed covert operation.

Standing in front of the frame that is supposed to hold the piece that Junpei is now overtly returning, he turns with a sly smirk to see the man doing his best impression of a cat burglar. Arcadio rolls his eyes and goes to grab the folder, lest his lover get his streaming sweat onto it and create an awkward situation with the mangaka. After depositing in where it belongs and shutting it into a plastic case that was conspicuously absent earlier Arcadio returns his attention to Junpei who now looks around the gallery in wonder at what they have crafted together.

Arcadio’s grin grows wider with every step towards Junpei, nearing close enough to kiss, he stands tall and the two enjoy each other’s passion for the first time in reality. Though as Junpei’s deific form clearly demonstrates, what is real doesn’t matter all too much at all. Arcadio doesn’t quite understand the whims of the world he exists in and he’s pretty confident given enough time he won’t even remember being the impetus for his lover’s changes. In fact, as he stands in the arms of Junpei, memories already begin filling his mind of their years together that are as real as anything. Looking around he sees a room full of decisions they made together, body man he may be but the two of them are more than equals. Breaking away from the kiss, he sniffs the air and steps back from Junpei.

Arcadio looks at Junpei’s puppy dog eyes and ruffles his short hair, “Now go take a shower, perrito. Opening is in two hours and you stink, mi amor.” Junpei looks down at himself in shock, somehow forgetting the cold sweat covering his clothes and nods fervently before sprinting back out the door. The two lovers remain on each other's minds as they go about preparing for opening day. Ever but a thought away and always eager for the next moment that they will have alone together. 

[rubikswriter]

Heavy is the crown - a Caitlyn Kiramman character analysis.

(Tumblr really messed the formatting up on this, and it’s like 15k so there’s no way I’m editing it again - check my Twitter RubiksGaming12 to read it in it’s correctly formatted form)

I’ll preface this by saying that I have no prior knowledge of LoL lore, but I’m a big fan of angsty, nuanced characters, and that’s why I want to talk about Caitlyn Kiramman.

I’m sure this has all been talked to death in the fandom, but from my brief time in it, I can see a lot of varying - although mostly negative - views on Caitlyn. Especially in season 2. Caitlyn, however, is a character who has swiftly made her way onto my favourites list and I feel the overwhelming need to wax poetically about her. 

I love a character that’s been consumed by darkness in some way and attempts to find their way back; from Darth Vader, to Xena, to Villanelle. I love all the shades of grey these characters bring; that not every act of good is seen in absolute glowing white and every negative in pure darkness. To me this teetering on the line in between is what makes for such rich characters to experience, explore, and devour.

I’ll start by saying that one of my favourite things about Arcane is how it doesn’t hold your hand the entire time. It’s not always direct, slammed in your face, explanation. It asks you to pay attention; to look, and listen, and think. It wants you to make the connections, to see the use of lighting, of revisiting environments, of the connection to the music/score. It wants you to question. 

Would we all have liked more episodes? Hell yes. However, I think the show does a wonderful job with Cait’s character arc within time/ep restraints it had. 

With that said, if you hold negative views on Caitlyn, my thoughts on this definitely won’t interest you in the slightest. You’ll keep your opinion, and I’ll keep mine. Art is subjective after all. But if you want to share thoughts and opinions and discuss openly, then please do. I love hearing and delving into all theories.

So with that said, let’s break my thoughts down —

Caitlyn is a Kiramman; a member of an influential house in Piltover. Her family's reputation precedes them, especially with her mother on the council. I think it’s safe to say that with such a privileged upbringing, when we meet Caitlyn in Season 1, it’s obvious that she has been sheltered from the depth and reality of the systemic divide between Piltover and Zaun, and just how oppressed the Zaunites really are. 

But there’s more to Caitlyn than her just being another mere, blindly accepting member of the Piltover elite. In fact the show hints that it's a direct result of her elite heritage, that Caitlyn grows into such an ambitious, confident, woman who has an unwavering, determined, drive to prove herself on her own merits rather than just on the coattails of her family name.

We see her kindness shown in her friendship with Jayce, a man older than her and sponsored by her parents, a person considered below her on the social ladder, and yet he’s her one true friend. She’s interested in his ideas, has concern and fondness for him. It presents Caitlyn as someone who goes against the grain of what’s expected of her, her curiosity of wanting to know and understand more than just the high society she’s part of is evident. It’s something that we see that sets her apart from the majority of her peers who are content with their lives and have no desire to question it.

I believe it’s her ambitious drive and her natural, kind curiosity that sets up the basis for her arc in Season 1. 

We see her commitment to her marksmanship in the flashback, she’s damn good at the skill she’s worked hard to hone, and yet we see Cait questioning her own merit when Grayson appears to let her win. Her first thought is ‘did my parents pay you to let me win?’ which is such a sombre reality. Has this happened before? It appears that even from a young age the weight of the name Kiramman is something that’s been weighing Cait down. A burden of expectation and equally a privileged advantage, even when it’s perhaps not deserved or wanted.

When Grayson says she let Cait win not because her parents paid her, but because she thought Cait deserved it, it validates Caitlyn in a way not many people do. Especially when Grayson is more skilled and less privileged than her. She tells Caitlyn that she doesn’t need to win, that protecting the people is the reward in itself. I think this interaction further unlocks and propels Caitlyn’s desire to earn respect rather than have it given to her because of her name.

So when Grayson asks her ‘what are you shooting for?’ I think Caitlyn is finally able to give herself the luxury and agency to decide to want more for herself than what is simply expected, and to go after that, no matter what people think. Her parents included.

That scene with Grayson, I felt, was vital in seeing, at least partly, why Caitlyn becomes an enforcer. It gives her a sense of purpose outside of the family ties. Something that’s just hers. Something she can achieve and be proud of, and something she can outwardly present amongst the community she lives in. She holds firm in her resolve and assurance that she’s made the right choice for herself even when her mother tries to keep her safe by limiting her work, and when her peers snigger mockingly at her that she should be at the cocktail party rather than guarding it.

After Jinx’s attack and her removal from the enforcers at her mother’s request, we see Caitlyn become even more solidified in her self belief. While she may be a little idealistic and naive to the wider workings of the world, Caitlyn proves she’s an intelligent, kind, empathetic person, and has a fire in her for seeking justice and protecting people. She genuinely seems to want to make a difference, and I think that’s why she fixates on the investigation of corruption in Piltover and how deeply connected that is to Zaun and its underworld. It’s another chance to prove herself to those that don’t truly see her as more than the Kiramman name.

This is obviously driven further when she meets Vi and has her released to help facilitate her investigation. Having Vi be her guide through the Undercity allows Cait to have her eyes opened to a different perspective than her own, and challenges Topside’s preconceptions about bottom. It’s seeing through Vi’s eyes that enlightens Cait to Zaun’s true struggles and drives her desire to want to help and advocate for Zaun further. While realising at the same time that the Piltover Caitlyn thinks she knows is equally corrupt in parts (Marcus’ betrayal highlighting this). 

It’s through Vi’s eyes, through her struggles, through their developing trust and connection that we the viewer can recognise that Caitlyn is meant to represent the moral compass of the show in S1 — She’s the one that gets us, the audience, to also question what Cait thinks she knows, versus the reality of what she’s now learnt (Silco, shimmer, Marcus, Jinx, Ekko and the firelights); that there is no good and bad, only shades of grey between the twin cities.

In understanding Caitlyn as the character we get introduced to in season 1, I think it’s really important to understand that it’s Caitlyn’s privilege that gives her the knowledge and position to try to drive a change forward. But it’s her character outside of her privilege; her kindness, her empathy, her risk taking and her willingness to challenge rules and ideals that makes her the right choice to help. Vi and Ekko aren’t trusting just any Piltie to help them, they’re trusting Caitlyn because of all that she exudes and stands for. It's unknown to Vi and Ekko at that time that Caitlyn is a Kiramman, or the weight that name holds. Caitlyn never divulges that about herself, instead she mentions Jayce, her friends being on the council. But we the audience know that it’s her family name that gives Caitlyn immediate access to her mother and the council where others - like Vi, Ekko, and the other Zaunites - would not have such a chance. 

We see, through her relationship with Vi, that Caitlyn doesn’t use her privilege to overshadow Vi and the Zaunties' struggles. She moves the pieces into place because she has the entitlement to do so. She lets Violet be the mouthpiece for herself and the Undercity’s struggles when addressing the council, showing that she sees Vi and the Zaunites as equals.

When Caitlyn’s mother is introduced to us, we understand that she’s not a big fan of Caitlyn essentially lowering the family name by becoming an enforcer, and that she purposely interfered in Caitlyn’s work to protect her; moving her to stand guard at her tent, and having Cait dismissed from the enforcers after the initial Jinx attack. However, Cassandra Kiramman clearly loves her daughter and after hearing how passionate she is, listening to Caitlyn outline the failings of the council she sits on, she schedules the councillors for Cait and Vi to talk with.

‘You’re a councillor’s daughter, your actions reflect on the entire body,’

‘You know what else reflects on the council? Its citizens living on the streets, being poisoned, having to choose between a kingpin who wants to exploit them and a government that doesn’t give a shit.’

We can see in this exchange just how much Caitlyn has grown from episode 1-8, and I could talk so much more about her growing relationship with Vi in season 1, but I think we all can agree that Vi grounds Caitlyn. She shows Caitlyn a world she hadn’t ever truly seen or understood. Vi challenges her in ways Caitlyn has never been challenged before, and she sees Caitlyn as she is; as simply Cait. Something that nobody else does. The fact that Caitlyn is a Kiramman is an afterthought, something Vi only learns later on when Caitlyn insists she can help with Zaun’s plight. 

Even when Caitlyn fails to achieve what they want from the council she remains determined to try again, but it’s Vi that walks away. It’s Vi that can only see how to do things one way and knows that she has to leave Caitlyn behind to do it. Vi, I feel, is essentially protecting Caitlyn from something she knows Caitlyn doesn’t fully understand and never can simply because of their separate birthrights. She will never really be able to understand that oppression, and Vi is too afraid/guilty to relinquish what little control she has left when it comes to Jinx.

Caitlyn acts in the council meeting according to the hierarchy she grew up in, something that Vi doesn’t have the luxury to indulge in. That’s why she walks away and goes to Jayce. Vi needs to take things into her own hands to try and save her sister and deal with Silco, she chooses the undercity way and leaves Caitlyn to mull over the topside approach. Vi’s own guilt gives her a heavy burden of responsibility that she can’t let go of.

We see after their separation that Caitlyn isn’t content with Topside’s action, or inaction, she’s frustrated with the lack of doing nothing but not doing enough. We see this when she’s in the shower thinking of Vi; her image represents what Caitlyn wants to fight for, what she can’t let go of now. A better life for them all. I truly believe that Caitlyn, with her dogged determination, would have tried again and again and again to help Vi with Jinx and Silco, and would have found a way to persuade the council to help the Undercity heal. It’s the first real indication we get that Vi has become one of Caitlyn’s biggest strengths, but will also become one of Caitlyn’s biggest weaknesses, as we see at the end of Season 1.

This all pieces together when Jinx foils Caitlyn’s plans to try and help and kidnaps her. Instead of Caitlyn working towards finding a balanced, diplomatic, solution that will benefit Piltover/Zaun and bridge the divide, we get Caitlyn receiving a nice dose of trauma; Jinx threatening her life and blowing up the council tower. Topped with the crushing burden of conflict and guilt; having the shot on Jinx but not being able to take it due to her loyalty and affection for Vi. 

It’s this event and every moment that happens during it that shapes the foundation of Caitlyn’s arc for season 2. 

——

We start season 2 with the consequences of the actions of season 1. Jinx is free and Caitlyn’s mother was killed along with some of the other councillors thanks to Jinx’s attack. This is already an intolerable pill for Caitlyn to swallow, knowing that not only did she have the shot on Jinx that could have prevented her mother’s death, but I’m sure Mel makes it known to her that she and the council were voting in favour of Zaun having independence. 

As such Season 2 is rich with character development for Caitlyn, and I think the best way I can share my thoughts on it is to break it down into her development journey per act.

Alongside looking at the events/effects of each act on Caitlyn’s character I want to focus on the three faces Cait claims to haunt her in S2E1; her mother (whose memory is manipulated by Ambessa), Jinx, and Vi. I believe that individually these three characters are the driving force behind Caitlyn’s descent to darkness and also her light back to the good woman we know Caitlyn Kiramman is at her core. 

Let’s start with Ambessa since I feel like her role is critical to Caitlyn’s moral downfall. However, in order to fully understand Caitlyn’s descent into darkness in season 2 I believe it’s vital to understand Ambessa, her motives, and her role in manipulating Caitlyn for her own gain.

So let’s jump back a second and look at Ambessa before we dissect season 2:

In season 1 Ambessa arrives in Piltover under the false pretense of visiting her estranged daughter Mel - who we all know is a wealthy and powerful

Councillor in the city - and confides in Mel about her brother, Kino’s death. It seems Ambessa feels responsible for her son's death, and that she’s certain those responsible for his death will continue to seek revenge upon the Medarda’s and Noxus. 

This brings us to the real reason for Ambessa’s visit. Having grown aware of Piltover’s progress with Hextech, Ambessa sees the opportunity to create and use Hextech weaponry to protect her family and thwart any threat to her people. Essentially, Ambessa begins her game of manipulation early in season 1 by hoping to convince Mel to engage in war with the Undercity using the weaponised Hextech to squash the conflict. Ambessa sees these two cities and the tensions between them as a testing ground for Hextech weapons, and a chance to grab power, which luckily Mel sees through and prevents.

With Mel not being so easily manipulated, aware of her mother’s warmongering ways, Ambessa quickly changes strategies and attempts to manoeuvre Hextech’s creator, Jayce, into weaponizing the technology. While Jayce refuses at first, Vi tempts him further, and together they take Hextech weapons into the Undercity with the goal of attacking Silco’s shimmer factories, only for Jayce to end up accidentally killing a child working in one. This immediately stops Jayce and ruins Ambessa’s second attempt at manipulation to mass weaponise Hextech. 

With promises of allowing Mel to return home to Noxus with her if Mel will simply allow the war between Piltover and Zaun to happen, Ambessa makes her final move of season 1. Luckily Mel stays true to herself, and right before Jinx blows up the council building, Mel sides with Jayce in offering Zaun independence, and encourages the other councillors to do the same. 

It’s as we head into season 2, in the wake of Jinx’s attack on Piltover, that we see Ambessa use the chaos to reestablish her footing and create another angle of manipulation to work with.

She first tries to speak through Councilor Salo, which Mel catches immediately, knowing that her mother is determined to gain power. Mel agrees to invade the Undercity to capture Jinx but without Hextech weapons, once again stopping Ambessa’s push to put Hextech into weaponised action. 

With Ambessa’s plot mapped, let’s move back to Season 2 and Caitlyn’s development:

Act 1:

Ep1 - 

It’s important to note that even at this point in her grief Caitlyn is still fighting for the people of Zaun and trying to prevent a war; she stands by Jinx being solely responsible for the attack and doesn’t want Piltover to flood the Undercity with enforcers. 

Because Ambessa failed to use Salo to get the councillors to invade Zaun with Hextech we see her next power play. She’s the one responsible for the memorial attack, she allows it to happen only to set herself up as the saviour with her Noxian troops. This act pushes her agenda forward, the next time the council meet they feel taken off guard, fearful and desperate to find a way to fight back and protect themselves. But before Ambessa can speak up, Caitlyn arrives with her strike team armed with Hextech weapons and does the task for her. 

Caitlyn’s goal is obviously to minimise damage, which is a stark contrast to what Ambessa wants overall, however it’s the perfect way for Ambessa to test her goal. I believe it’s at this point that we witness Ambessa noticing Caitlyn for the first time and understanding her influence. Something Ambessa definitely notes for later on. 

/

Next we have Caitlyn’s relationship with Vi to consider. 

It complicates Caitlyn’s grief. What should be a simple anger becomes a layered torment. How do you openly and intensely hate the sister of someone you care about? How does Caitlyn move past understanding Vi’s care for Jinx and refusal to give up on her at the end of season 1? Especially when that reality caused Caitlyn to hold back, go against her gut instinct, not shoot, and ultimately allow Jinx to kill her mother and further divide Piltover and Zaun.

The scene with her dad expands this conflict. Her guilt and self blame are evident when she admits she had the shot on Jinx. We see it manifesting in her refusal to willingly accept the Kiramman key. From someone so confident and self assured in season 1, we quickly see Caitlyn displaced and unsure. She’s gone from knowing the safety of her place in the Piltover hierarchy chain, to suddenly having to step up and fill that role her mother held. It’s a big responsibility and one Caitlyn doesn’t feel deserving or sure of. 

(Adding to this quickly that I love that it pans to Vi overhearing Caitlyn’s confessions, I think it perfectly foreshadows that Vi is going to have to witness someone else she loves descending down a path that’s a product of her actions. What a heavy cross to bear (maybe I’ll do a deep dive on Vi next)).

I also think it’s important that we talk about how Caitlyn is someone who keeps her emotions close to her chest, whereas Vi wears hers on her sleeve. Caitlyn’s grief is all over her face but it isn’t necessarily spoken aloud, she isn’t a blubbering mess. She only cries when she has the safety of Vi to be vulnerable with, and even then she only allows herself a brief moment. In true Caitlyn fashion, she then throws herself back into her way of dealing with her grief through action. I guess it makes sense that she feels inaction is what caused her pain, so of course going with the enforcers to find Jinx in the Undercity is a good idea. 

What perhaps isn’t her best idea is asking Vi to put on an enforcer badge and join her. I think Caitlyn is super clouded by her own grief here to even consider whether this is a good idea or not, especially given what she knows about Vi’s past. However, I would say that I truly believe that Caitlyn believes she’s asking Vi to join her for the right reasons. We witnessed Cait try and dissuade the council to invade Zaun already, so to think that Caitlyn believes that Vi’s presence on the enforcers side would help bridge a divide between Piltover and Zaun isn’t out of the realm of possibility. It makes sense for Cait to think that showing unity against Jinx would send a good message to the people of both cities. It also acts to ease Caitlyn’s own fears about Vi’s feelings towards her and Jinx. Where does Vi’s allegiance lie now? Can Vi see that Jinx is too far gone now and trust Cait to make the right decision? It’s a risk but a reassurance I think Cait desperately needs from Vi to anchor herself. 

Even though Vi initially rejects her offer to join the enforcers, after the memorial attack, when we see Caitlyn at her most unbalanced, Vi is there once again to provide comfort to Caitlyn at her most vulnerable. Vi understands what Caitlyn needs from her. I think at this point Vi is consumed by her own pain and guilt, and that while she clearly can’t mend Jinx’s heart, perhaps she can protect Cait’s. It’s why I believe Vi ultimately joins the strike team Caitlyn sets up. She feels a sense of responsibility to put things right too. It’s a tentative balance between the two of them; it’s the promise of action without overzealous violence hinged on an achievable goal of apprehending Jinx.

/

We see Caitlyn, for the most part, admirably hiding her pain, grief, and self blame for her mother’s death (as Mel tells Jayce) but we also see glimpses of her strong facade cracking with anger at Jinx. 

Her anguish and guilt begin to manifest into hatred, and we see this evidently in Caitlyn’s visualisation of taking the shot at Jinx. This externalised hatred of Jinx is understandable in the wake of her mother’s death, and has left Caitlyn’s family with a gaping hole that she herself now has to quickly navigate to fill. 

While Jinx isn’t part of the memorial attack it triggers a reaction in Caitlyn; her pain and anger breaking free and making her lash out. We see her in her grief going from defending Zaun; ‘there’s good people down there’ to ‘they’re animals’. While that thought doesn’t grow further yet (thanks to Vi’s grounding presence) it does seed and begin to take root inside Caitlyn, waiting to blossom later in the season.

/

Ep 2 & 3:

Episodes 2 & 3 take a closer look at Caitlyn’s invasion of the Undercity with her strike team. So I’m going to combine my thoughts for them. 

We see at the end of episode 1 that Caitlyn discovers the creation of the ventilation system the Kiramman’s created to provide clean air to the Undercity. Now this next part seems to be where I witness a lot of hatred and negativity of Caitlyn’s character journey this season coming from.

While I completely agree that her use of the gas in the Undercity is a bold and controversial choice, I think there’s a misunderstanding of how Caitlyn was using the gas. I get the sense that people think she was just gassing the whole of the Undercity when in reality she states what she plans to do with the gas in her mission outline; locate Jinx, dismantle shimmer and neutralise any agents still loyal to Silco.

Remember Vi is part of this strike team, I doubt she’s letting Caitlyn murderously gas her people. Instead, she’s probably guided Caitlyn into where the shimmer factories and the gangs are located. It’s these areas that the gas is being used. Does this justify her use of the gas? I’m not sure. I think it’s a moral grey area. Does violence of any kind, from any side, justify a violent retaliation? I think this is sadly a case of human nature. It shows the cycle of hatred, of violence being used to justify peace. It’s a tale as old as time; everybody is the bad guy in somebody else’s story. It’s a cycle that keeps repeating until somebody breaks it.

And that’s the theme the show wants to explore in season 2. Caitlyn’s actions are unsettling. Rightfully so. It’s a breakdown of what happens to people’s morals when they’re challenged by outside forces they can’t control. I think Arcane takes these issues and presents them cleverly throughout the show, and to write a character off as simply bad or good is a disservice to the depth they’ve been given.

The show forces the audience to step into each characters shoes and ask:

‘how far are you willing to go for the people you love?’

‘How far is too far?’

‘How do you know when you’re crossed that line and can you stop yourself going further?’

‘Can you come back from that?’ 

‘What can you do to break the cycle?’

We see these questions starting to get asked as we move into the tail end of Act 1.

The montage at the start of episode 3 is super heavy with explanations of what exactly the strike team does in Zaun. Sadly, I do think if you’re casually watching some of the depth of this montage is lost which I’m assuming is a time restraint/stylistic choice that had to be made for S2.

That said, let’s look at it carefully:

I feel like the bright colours are really menacing here, especially when you see Caitlyn and co fully suited up with the green gas behind them. It makes the image of the gangs running away look small and weak in comparison. When in reality we know these guys have helped Silco flood the lanes with Shimmer and are definitely part of the violence in the Undercity. It then flickers through scenes of the team fighting against the gangs, of them achieving their objective to dismantle shimmer and neutralise anyone still loyal to Silco. But it also makes a point to show Caitlyn apprehending these criminals in a non-lethal way; it seems she fires the same net-type bullets the enforcers fired at Vi and Powder way back in the opening episodes as they escaped from Jayce’s apartment. Most importantly it shows them holding Jinx’s wanted poster, inquiring for her whereabouts. This, we know, is the driving force behind all of Cait’s actions. A venture that is clearly proving fruitless so far. It’s clear that Jinx’s continued allusion only heightens Caitlyn’s grief and anger. 

While searching the Undercity for Jinx, we see Caitlyn, Vi and the others looking for Jinx in the old arcade where Vi and Jinx played as children. The use of the gas and seeing Vi playing enforcer enrages Jinx and she taunts Caitlyn by switching on the moving targets and momentarily appearing behind one before disappearing once more. While Maddie confirms the place is all clear, Caitlyn appears to begin to hyperventilate, her frustration with not apprehending Jinx clearly agitating her and teetering her closer and closer to the edge of her grief and control. She shoots where she was certain she saw Jinx standing, showing her ability to follow through with her shot now, and once more it’s Vi that has to approach her and ground her, bringing Caitlyn back from the Jinx demon plaguing her.

I want to make a point of noting that Vi is involved in the entirety of the strike team invasion into Zaun. This doesn’t make the use of the gas a right, but it does draw a line under what even Vi thinks is acceptable for Silco’s goons to suffer in their quest to get Jinx. When Jinx confronts Vi about this later, Vi even says they were using the gas to minimise damage (note - Cait hasn’t lost all morals) - ‘We used the grey to clear the streets. To keep people safe.’

We see Jinx using one of the Chembarons’s minions to lure Caitlyn and Vi further down into the pipeworks. While questioning the guy, Caitlyn continues off the back of her agitation from ep2, her frustration at not having found Jinx already making her snappy and twitchy. When Caitlyn demands an answer on how Heenot got there, she looks far too trigger happy, and Vi immediately notices the unsettled shift in Caitlyn, moving to kneel in front of Heenot. This serves to put her in Cait’s eyeline in an attempt to ground her once more. Vi gets the answer Caitlyn was seeking without violence but instead of calming Caitlyn, the knowledge that Jinx is close by only seems to amplify Cait’s vehement determination for vengeance.

Vi can see Caitlyn is becoming increasingly consumed by her hatred and asks to speak to her for a moment and then— well, let’s go ahead and talk about the kiss. That first kiss… 

I personally think that Vi’s voice actor Hailee Steinfeld and writer Amanda Overton give voice to my feelings on this far more coherently than I ever could: 

‘The dialogue before [the kiss] says it all. Vi's in a place where she's lost everything. She's lost anything and everything she's ever felt seen by or close to," Steinfeld continued. "The only way she has any of it left is through Caitlyn, and she's now asking a lot of her, asking her not to change given what she's now going through. I think it unlocks a newfound vulnerability.’

While Amanda adds to this:

“To me, that kiss, because it comes so early in their arc, was always meant to be the right thing for the wrong reasons. You want to feel really good because they’re finally kissing, but the promise that Vi asks her in her desperation is an impossible ask. Caitlyn responds in a way where she wants this to be true, Vi wants this to be true. Both of them want this to be true, so kissing was their way of covering that up.”

I think the kiss acts as a balm to both of their insecurities and guilt about their roles in the losses they’ve faced and may face again. Do either of them believe the promise, I’m not convinced, but it’s an important moment for Caitlyn to feel reassured by Vi’s loyalty. It feels like Vi has her back as they now approach Jinx, and that if Caitlyn can make the shot, she has Vi’s blessing to do so. Vi is her strength and Caitlyn needs that before she comes face to face with Jinx once again.

The only problem with the kiss and the faux promise is that it’s fine in theory but not in practice. I think Vi was trying to convince herself she could let Jinx go for Cait’s sake, but once she sees her, especially with Isha, Vi can’t commit to it. 

This is the driving wedge between her and Caitlyn, because that kiss promise they just made, well in Caitlyn’s eyes, Vi didn’t keep it. It feels like betrayal. Vi has prevented her from taking the shot against Jinx twice now. 

This is the pivotal moment that ultimately leads to Caitlyn being unable to untangle Vi from Jinx in her mind. Her feelings are too clouded by her grief, and her anger finally shifts from Jinx to Vi. Vi, who in Cait’s eyes, let her down. It’s heartbreaking but in the next moment Vi pays the price for Caitlyn’s transferred anger by taking Caitlyn’s rifle to her gut. And just like that, Caitlyn breaks her promise too. 

Has she really changed or is Caitlyn merely lost in her own self hatred, grief, insecurity and guilt? Whatever the answer is, without Vi, Caitlyn no longer has an anchor to stop herself spiralling completely. It leaves her vulnerable and open to manipulation as we see.

/

We see Ambessa growing impatient after Amara attacks her and reveals the Black Rose are aware that Ambessa isn’t relenting in their feud, instead she’s in Piltover looking for an advantage by gaining access to Hextech weapons. As a result Ambessa returns to manipulate Salo, wanting to use the councillor to once again to push her agenda and gain more control. But Salo is equally frustrated by his use in Ambessa’s plan. It’s during Ambessa’s exchange with Salo that Caitlyn comes up again. 

We know Ambessa has taken note of Caitlyn when she stormed the council with her strike team idea and thwarted her attempt to use Salo to urge the council into a full invasion of Zaun, but in this next exchange with Salo we see Ambessa once again  grasping exactly why Caitlyn could be the key to her power play.

‘It’s enough work propping you up without you dulling what few wits are left rattling around in there.’

‘If you propped as well as you prod, maybe I’d have better uses for my time than sitting around waiting for an update on Princess Kiramman’s underground escapades. She’s gotten no closer to Jinx. But that doesn’t seem to steal the stars from anyone’s eyes.’

‘Perhaps if you hadn’t let the child overpower you in your own chamber.’

‘It’s not the girl. It’s the name. It bewitches people.’

Ambessa, at this point, still intends to use Salo as her puppet by gathering the elite of Piltover, so she can essentially speak through Salo, and urge for further action to be taken against Zaun. However, the knowledge she’s gained about Caitlyn from Salo comes in very useful when Ambessa actually makes her play for power at the end of episode 3. 

Mel even notes how clever and strategic Ambessa is when talking with Lest, ‘everything with my mother is a calculated risk’ showing that Ambessa will do whatever is necessary to achieve what she wants. This becomes even easier for Ambessa to do with Mel and Jayce out of the picture, leaving Piltover wide open to her manipulation.

Ambessa takes advantage of the Jinx/Zaunite attacks on Piltover and Amara’s disappearance (or shall I say, her own cover up) to create a new narrative. She starts by using Salo as her mouthpiece, here he lays the foundation that Ambessa is a trusted and worthy ally for Piltover. Whose experience Piltover should take advantage of. Ambessa continues this narrative, painting herself as a kind ally who was simply going to help Amara rebuild Piltover before the Zaunties attacked again. 

Ambessa uses the continued and growing fear of the Piltover elite to encourage the conflict - ‘wrath must be met with wrath.’ - setting up the idea of martial law as a necessary move to protect the people and return Piltover to safety once more. We see Salo thinking he’s finally going to be rewarded for being Ambessa’s puppet, only for Ambessa to manoeuvre past him. She takes the knowledge he’s given her about Caitlyn Kiramman and the worth of her name and chooses her to command instead.

Ambessa knows of Caitlyn’s grief and her unwavering desire to bring Jinx to justice in vengeance for her mother’s death, and now Ambessa can take Caitlyn Kiramman and twist her focus to encompass more. Caitlyn Kiramman can be the pawn Ambessa uses to start the conflict between Piltover and Zaun. Caitlyn Kiramman will get the elite to listen. Caitlyn Kiramman will use Hextech weaponry to do so, and in doing so, Caitlyn Kiramman will give Ambessa the power she needs to confront the Black Rose.

At first Caitlyn is shocked by Ambessa’s decision to choose her for command but once Ambessa and the Noxian’s begin their chest salute, Caitlyn becomes overwhelmed with the pressure of the Kiramman name. She told her dad she didn’t feel worthy or ready, and here is Ambessa, someone the Piltover elite now trust, someone with experience, who is saying she believes Caitlyn is the right person to protect the people. It forces Caitlyn to step up and fill that hole her mother left; to represent Piltover as a Kiramman. Ambessa achieves this cleverly by taking advantage of Caitlyn at her lowest. Ambessa plays into the combination of Caitlyn’s own guilt, grief and self loathing and peer pressure, and buckles Caitlyn to her will, molding her into a Commander who will carry out unspeakable things to grasp power.

Let’s talk about the persuasion of the peer pressure - it’s peer pressure that comes not only from the Noxian army but also from Caitlyn’s own enforcers - Maddie being the one to chest salute from Piltover’s side first. It’s not surprising given we know she’s a spy - but before this knowledge is gained Maddie is seen as a good hearted, kind enforcer wanting to do the right thing. Without Vi there to question and anchor Caitlyn, Maddie is a familiar and reassuring face Cait can turn to. So when Maddie joins the Noxians supporting Caitlyn for commander, so too does everybody else. Now it’s Piltover looking at Caitlyn to make this right.

What do you do when someone you think you trust encourages you to step up? When everyone who relies on the Kiramman name wants to believe in you? It feels like a task Caitlyn cannot fail in… not like she failed her mother. 

Ambessa, seeing Caitlyn beginning to cave to the responsibility, uses the rawness of Caitlyn’s grief to manipulate her again, just as Caitlyn might possibly be starting to question it all. Before the doubts can fully form in her head, Ambessa is there, oinking her poison into Caitlyn’s ear - ‘your mother will have justice. I swear it’. 

There’s that question for Caitlyn and the audience again - how far are you willing to go for those you love?

It’s Ambessa’s manipulation at its finest, a final, powerful shove in the direction Ambessa wants, and Caitlyn, in her broken state, falls for it.

It’s these events of the entirety of Act 1 that I believe sways Cait into taking the position of commander. By giving Caitlyn the power of command over the enforcers and her Noxian army, Ambessa enables Caitlyn to descend into an even darker spiral of moral ambiguity.

/

Act 2 -

Ep 4 - 

In the opening montage we see Caitlyn’s martial law in effect. Under her visage, the enforcers and Noxians flood the Undercity, hunting Jinx, and arresting those they see as a threat. We can all agree here that Caitlyn’s morals have tumbled; she allows a (necessary - Cait’s opinion, not mine) increased amount of violence in order to maintain control, and this is obviously met with resistance from the Zaunties. It’s the cycle of violence churning, and Caitlyn, under Ambessa’s guidance allows it to happen fuelled by her hyper-fixation on capturing Jinx.

I’d like to point out that the use of the Jinx wanted posters throughout this episode is huge. For Caitlyn and Piltover, Jinx is justification for what they’re doing. And for Zaun, Jinx becomes the one thing they can all start to unite behind despite their differences; in the most ironic turn around, Jinx becomes a symbol of hope and rebellion for Zaun against their oppressors.

Despite Caitlyn being in command of the martial law taking place, I think the scene with Maddie highlights that she hasn’t disowned her morals entirely, they haven’t changed, they’ve just become clouded by her grief and Ambessa’s manipulating encouragement. We get a hint of this as it appears that Caitlyn isn’t sleeping well, the tensions between the two cities clearly playing heavily on her mind. We see further hints of this when Caitlyn confesses to Maddie that she didn’t think the invasion would go on so long. 

‘I never expected this to go on so long. I thought… I don’t know what I thought. Just… it wasn’t this.’- this shows that Caitlyn didn’t know what exactly she was taking on when she took command. How could she? Before any of this happened she was an enforcer with restricted responsibility thanks to the protection of her mother, and now she’s not only in charge of her house and its legacy, but she’s taken control of Piltover’s safety. It’s a big burden to bear and it’s clear the direction she’s taken has left her uncertain about her choices. 

Maddie in return seems to act as both the angel and devil on Cait’s shoulders, in one breath she’s endorsing the Noxian’s increasing violence by reassuring Cait that it’s for Piltover’s safety, and the next she’s telling Caitlyn she could withdraw from the Undercity. Without Vi there now to ground Caitlyn in the harsh realities of her choices, Maddie’s angel/devil act further serves as part of Ambessa’s manipulation, isolating Caitlyn in Ambessa’s ideals alone, and keeps Caitlyn spiraling even when her morals begin to creep back in and make her conviction wobble slightly. 

When Maddie teasingly calls Caitlyn ‘Ambessa’ it snaps Caitlyn out of her disillusionment, and keeps her focused on her unfulfilled goal of getting Jinx, citing that Ambessa’s methods do work. She’s delivering what she promised Piltover and Caitlyn she would deliver, and all Caitlyn has to do is stay on the path Ambessa has set out before her.

Maddie also uses this opportunity to try and make Caitlyn feel in control. While Caitlyn’s doubts about the marital law materialise, Maddie forces Caitlyn to look at herself in the mirror and reminds her that Caitlyn is the leader they follow. It catapults Caitlyn back to the weight of responsibility she feels in the wake of losing her mother. Piltover chose her because she’s a Kiramman and Caitlyn cannot let them down, she has a hole to fill. This pushes her to ignore any niggling doubts and press forward with her efforts to secure Jinx.

Another scene where we can see that Caitlyn isn’t completely lost in her darkness is during her exchange with Ambessa. Ambessa rightfully notes that Jinx’s return will further ignite Zaun’s resistance to the martial law, but that it also finally gives them a lead on Jinx. When Caitlyn doesn’t seem elated at the news, Ambessa questions why Caitlyn isn’t more encouraged.

It’s here that Caitlyn’s core morals and doubts of Ambessa begin to shine through again. Caitlyn questions why Ambessa has urged the Noxians to become more violent, and Ambessa is clear in her response; someone in Zaun knows where Jinx is and she will use whatever force is necessary to get the answer.

Caitlyn is relentless though, and her core morals once again challenge Ambessa’s approach - ‘arrests require cause’ - showing that Caitlyn is still trying to stay within a somewhat structured justice system. She might be ruthless and unyielding in her quest for Jinx but she’s not trying to be unnecessarily cruel. 

Ambessa is always one step ahead though and we see her try to pacify Caitlyn’s doubts by reminding her of her duty to Piltover - ‘what greater cause is there than returning peace to this city?’

But Caitlyn isn’t entirely pacified by Ambessa’s remarks and we see her challenge her back with an important question; ‘why is peace always the justification for violence?’ 

This is a question not only for Ambessa and Caitlyn but also the audience. It asks the audience to think about this statement in regards to the whole show; to every character. How far is too far? When do you stop yourself from becoming something other than yourself in the name of protecting/saving those you love?

Ambessa responds by saying she understands how tiring vengeance can be, but she knows Caitlyn won’t be able to rest while she knows Jinx is out there. I believe this is one of the only honest moments Ambessa gives us. We know she too cannot rest while the Black Rose is out there threatening her family, it’s what drives her to achieve power and will keep driving her no matter the cost. But despite this brief moment of honesty, as per her character, Ambessa seizes the moment to manipulate Caitlyn again by questioning her conviction - ‘maybe I underestimated you. Maybe you have the strength I do not. To forgive and trust in tomorrow.’ 

By leaving the choice in Caitlyn’s hands Ambessa triggers Caitlyn to remember what her inaction caused her before; her mother’s death. It’s why we next see a guilt ridden Caitlyn at her mother’s statue and why, I believe, Cait can’t escape the darkness still clutching at her ankles yet. Having fallen victim to Ambessa manipulation once again we see her allowing the Noxian soldiers to carry out more violence and mass arresting of the Zaunties.

Last thought for episode 4 - Caitlyn’s face overlapping with Jinx’s wanted poster shows the monsters they’ve both become as a result of their traumas. Jinx is a product of her abandonment that festered (under Silco) into a chaotic resentment and anger towards Vi that fundamentally changed who she was/is. The same can be said for Caitlyn in Act 1-2. As a result of Jinx killing her mother, Caitlyn becomes a product of her trauma; her grief and guilt twist her empathy and understanding into that of unbridled anger (fuelled by Ambessa). Now Cait is left desperately seeking justice to soothe her wounds, and it causes her to commit horrible acts in her quest.

Even when Caitlyn does make attempts to remind herself of her true morals, she’s met with Jinx’s taunts, Vi’s betrayal (in her eyes) and Ambessa’s manipulation, just as Jinx always had Silco whispering in her ear.

It’s a cycle of anger and self destruction that Caitlyn and Jinx cannot break… not yet anyway.

/

Ep 5 - 

We begin this episode with Caitlyn arriving at Stillwater in the wake of Warwick’s attack. She has to pass through the blood and bodies of her comrades and see first hand the destruction that’s taken place. While she and Ambessa question Singed over the attack, we see just how fractured Caitlyn’s mind is becoming the longer Jinx evades her. It seems here, that Caitlyn thought her dismantling of shimmer earlier on would slow/stop Zaun from producing chemically advanced weapons created from experiments. But the Warwick attack proves her wrong. Singed has created something far worse, and Caitlyn’s immediate response is to discover how it’s connected to Jinx. 

It’s quite an ironic scene because Singed is almost mocking Caitlyn for being so single-minded. Zaun is more than just Jinx - something Caitlyn used to be able to comprehend before her grief - and he can see that Caitlyn is blinded to that, blaming her impatience and youth. 

We also get to see here how Caitlyn has made use of Stillwater for those that she’s arrested during the period of martial law - ‘there are cells buried deep within this prison so devoid of light and fresh air and all basic human considerations that up till now, I have forbidden their use.’

Has Caitlyn wrongly arrested Zaunties? I have no doubt that she has. But has she tried not to go so far into the darkness that she forgets all her morals and becomes a complete monster? I think so. She remembers the torment and suffering Vi suffered in Stillwater (even when they’re apart Vi is the grounding force that tries to creep in and pull Caitlyn back from the worst of herself). I don’t think Caitlyn is cruel by nature. She does have a good heart. It's just buried so deep beneath her guilt and grief that she’s committed acts she never thought she would, and she can’t seem to stop committing them while she feels Jinx is still a threat to Piltover. 

The last we see of Caitlyn in that scene she threatens Signed with spending the rest of his days in Stillwater. A promise she will keep if he doesn’t cooperate to help them destroy the beast.

When we next see Singed however, he’s with Ambessa. Ambessa who has quickly and strategically concluded that if Hextech is unreachable due to Jayce’s absence, the beast that Signed has created is the next best weapon she could have in her arsenal. Warwick might in fact be more powerful. Here Ambessa cuts a deal with Singed; his loyalty and the beast for her cause, in exchange for his freedom and allowance to keep experimenting. It’s clearly not something Ambessa informs Caitlyn of, who I’m assuming she keeps in the dark. Ambessa allows Caitlyn to keep believing that Singed is only being freed so that they can find the beast and destroy it before it attacks Piltover. 

We get to see in this episode that the doubts we see Caitlyn beginning to have about Ambessa and the disillusionment we see Caitlyn facing about her role in the invasion of Zaun continue to gnaw at her, especially after Singed’s poignant remark that ‘no one in power is innocent.’  I think this is a statement that makes Caitlyn pause and look at herself. If Signed isn’t innocent for his creation, is she innocent for the violence she’s allowed?

When we next see Ambessa, Signed and Caitlyn share a scene together, it’s with Signed conducting an experiment that will hopefully allow them to locate the beast.

Caitlyn, who looks less than thrilled with the arrangement of his freedom, makes it known that she understood Signed’s barbed statement last time, and as a result she’s used her position as a Kiramman to look into him to discover how deep his crimes go. It also highlights that she distrusts the reasoning Ambessa has given her for Signed’s release. We know after all that during the previous episode Ambessa made it clear she couldn’t forgive and forget. That she would always fight and do whatever was necessary to win with no regrets.

What Caitlyn has discovered is that the Piltover academy once had a revered alchemist who was banished as a result of his work. The results of which were never recorded. We know from S1 that Jayce’s creation of Hextech was considered so dangerous that it almost got him banished until he stabilised it. But what does the Undercity have that’s equally as dangerous as Hextech and yet entirely unstable and uncontrollable; shimmer. 

Caitlyn’s headstrong intellect makes a delightful return here when we see her work out that Singed was the banished alchemist Dr Reveck. She recoils in disgust at his creation of shimmer, which has always been a threat, not only to Piltover, but to Zaun. The damage of which Caitlyn saw firsthand in season 1 when she was in Zaun with Vi.

She calls Signed a monster and demands to know why he created shimmer and why he continues to experiment so dangerously that he creates these violent abominations.

For Singed the answer is easy - ‘Why does anyone commit acts others deem unspeakable? For love.’

At the sight of Signed’s daughter, kept alive by these unthinkable, grotesque experiments, Caitlyn is then forced to face an ugly truth, something which she and Singed both share. They have both committed horrible deeds to alleviate the harrowing pain of loss that only comes from losing someone you love. 

It holds a mirror up to Caitlyn and her actions in such a raw way that I don’t think any other moment has done yet. Is this the wake up call Caitlyn needs to finally break the chains of Ambessa’s manipulation and away from the darkness pulling her further and further away from her true self?

I guess we’ll see.

——

Ep 6 -

While the previous episode gives us our first proper glimmer of hope that Caitlyn is slowly waking up from her darkness and may start breaking away from Ambessa soon, this episode gives us the culmination of events that actually drive Cait to that very point of disentangling herself from Ambessa’s web of manipulation. 

But let’s rewind a second to see how exactly Caitlyn gets there.

Episode 6 starts off with a very clever and insightful fight sequence. Here we see Ambessa sparring with Caitlyn and training her in the Noxian ways. 

Here are the key principles Ambessa teaches Caitlyn:

‘Noxus prizes strength above all else, defining it by three core principles. Vision. The top of the triangle, charting a course and having the wisdom to navigate it. This form is your base, child. Your eyes see what others don't. Might. Bending your environment to your will. Your speed is improving. But eventually you need force.’

‘Too much force exposes you to risk.’

‘Indeed. The last is guile. Phantoms. Tricksters. Mages. Absent honour. Absent accountability. Remember this, Caitlyn. Tunnels in your eyes. Lava in your veins. Shadows in your heart. This is the truth of combat.’

But oh no, that’s not all.  Ambessa enlightens Caitlyn to her final, most important lesson:

‘I’ve discovered a fourth principle. One that heightens all others. Sacrifice. The temper born of suffering. We understand it as others cannot. We are kin.’

Now, this may just seem like Ambessa being Ambessa but it provides Caitlyn with two things:

 1) her combat skill set has definitely approved under Ambessa and continues to do so 

 2) Caitlyn has the inner-knowledge of how Ambessa’s mind works. 

This becomes vital later on in the remaining episodes. 

Some people might be confused by Caitlyn’s participation here given that she was starting to doubt Ambessa in the previous episode. However, the beast is still at large and a threat to both Piltover and Zaun. Caitlyn needs to aid Ambessa in putting him down.

Singed leads Ambessa, Caitlyn and the Noxian army through Zaun to the commune Viktor has established. Here is where Signed has tracked his beast. While Ambessa seems hell bent on attacking the commune without a second thought in order to capture the beast, we see Caitlyn looking unsure. Her suspicions that Ambessa is up to something heighten when she allows Singed to enter the commune to talk to Viktor.

Up until this point Caitlyn believes their goal is to eliminate the beast since it’s such a threat to Piltover and Zaun, but when she witnesses Ambessa and Signed plotting together, I believe she starts questioning their true intent regarding the beast.

The next time we see Caitlyn she appears to be creeping around the outskirts of her and Ambessa’s makeshift camp. Why would she be doing that if she wasn’t doubting Ambessa and Singed? Caitlyn isn’t stupid, she knows Ambessa is highly driven by power, but power at the expense of a peaceful commune? I’m not sure even Caitlyn is willing to cross that line. Her morals have gotten lost but they haven’t gone completely. Caitlyn has always tried to hold onto them. We see that here again. These morals come rushing back when Caitlyn’s natural detective skills lead her to piece together that Ambessa and Signed are planning a way to capture the beast, not destroy it. 

This to me is Caitlyn’s turning point, as she realises that Ambessa and Signed with the beast at their disposal will be a much bigger threat to Piltover and Zaun than Jinx ever could have been. 

Caitlyn has already reached this conclusion before she spots someone creeping about and puts their ass on the ground. Before she realises it’s Vi creeping around. 

The fact that it is Vi following Singed, and the fact that Vi is at the commune at all gives Caitlyn even greater reason to question Ambessa. These two may not have spoken in months but they see each other. They always have. 

When Caitlyn says ‘you can’t be here’ it’s not because she doesn’t want to see Vi, or because she’s dismissing her, but because she knows Ambessa is dangerous. Because despite everything that’s happened Caitlyn wants to protect Vi. Plus, Caitlyn knows that Vi being there is a weakness for her, she won’t be able to do what she needs to do to stop Ambessa if she’s worrying about Vi in the crossfire.

It’s Vi, however, questioning Caitlyn in return that falters Caitlyn’s cold focus. Why is Caitlyn there on the job? And is she still acting like an unhinged mongoose? 

Caitlyn mimics the insult of ‘mongoose’ but I think it’s the word ‘unhinged’ that cracks her steely veneer. Her grief and guilt did make her unhinged. The last time they were together she hit Vi in the stomach with her rifle in the wake of what she perceived as Vi’s betrayal of her. In the months since I’m sure that act has haunted Caitlyn. Vi disappeared from her life without another word and it’s because of Caitlyn’s actions. 

(Was Maddie the perfect distraction to the heartbreak she caused herself? I think so. Maddie allowed Caitlyn not to think about Vi, and Caitlyn needed that in order to reassure herself that her actions were necessary and justified. A perfect example of ‘the worst lies are the ones we tell ourselves’).

Without Vi around, Caitlyn was able to really access those darker parts of herself, and while Caitlyn felt like she needed to do that in order to keep herself focused on Jinx, we can see the cost of it. We see it in Caitlyn’s uncertainty in her actions, in her doubts of Ambessa, in the threat of the beast, and in Vi’s appearance. 

When Vi pushes Caitlyn off her in response, Caitlyn moves back limply, a little bit of the fight knocked out of her. Did Vi’s insult hold a mirror up to Caitlyn? I think so. It’s an uncomfortable pill to swallow, and we see that manifest in the way Caitlyn shifts her focus onto Vi’s hair.  

‘Your hair. You look like an angry oil slick.’

‘Don’t sugarcoat it, cupcake.’

Vi doesn’t trade insults with Caitlyn. She doesn’t berate her further than getting Caitlyn to back off so she can sit up. Instead she takes Caitlyn’s comment and gives Caitlyn warmth in return. The use of the ‘cupcake’ nickname is familiar, affectionate. In that single moment it breaks the tension between them. Is there anger between them? Yes. Unresolved issues? Yes. But there’s also an innate trust. So when Vi asks what Caitlyn is doing at the commune, Caitlyn tells the truth. And when Caitlyn asks Vi why she’s there in return, Vi tells the truth.

‘We tracked some sort of new chemweapon down here. A bloodthirsty, murderous, beast. What are you doing here?’

‘Trying to save… my dad.’

We don’t see Vi reveal to Caitlyn the true extent of what happened to Vander, and Vi purposely omits Jinx’s involvement, but what she tells Caitlyn is enough for Caitlyn to make her decision to betray Ambessa. 

We’ve seen time and time again that Vi fights because she’s always had to, but Caitlyn fights because she wants to. It’s what made Vi trust Caitlyn in the first place. And although she knows Caitlyn still hates/resents Jinx, she trusts Caitlyn enough in that moment to fight for what’s right like she always has before. Vi completely kills Caitlyn’s idea that Warwick is just a beast. The second Vi confides in her that this beast is actually Vander, her dad, Caitlyn starts seeing him as human. And not just any human; a human hugely important to Vi. Those doubts Caitlyn had about Ambessa and Singed? They’re cemented here. She trusts Vi and believes Vi, and that headstrong Caitlyn from S1 who wants to do the right thing and protect the people she loves? She shows up for Vi now.

Grayson once asked Caitlyn what she was shooting for, and we see the answer here clearly; Caitlyn will shoot to protect those she loves. Vi needs her help and her protection and Caitlyn is going to do just that because despite everything that's happened to them and between them, Caitlyn loves Vi. It’s that simple.

They’ve always worked better together, and we see that here. Their balance slowly returns as they plot to infiltrate Ambessa’s camp with Vi as Caitlyn’s prisoner. It creates a perfect distraction and takes Ambessa out of play, while Caitlyn stops Singed and saves Vander. If anybody could bring Caitlyn back out of her darkness and ground her, redirect her focus, and free her from Ambessa’s manipulation, it’s Vi.

The following scene between Ambessa, Vi and Caitlyn is amazing at showing just how much trust and understanding is still between Cait and Vi despite their bond not being fully healed. Caitlyn’s (fake) delivery of Vi into Ambessa’s hands cements Caitlyn as a worthy ally in Ambessa’s eyes. Remember, Ambessa sent a young Mel away because she considered Mel her weakness, and here we see Caitlyn handing over Vi, someone who Ambessa knows has Caitlyn’s heart (is her weakness). It’s such a powerplay from Caitlyn; she takes what she knows about how Ambessa’s mind works and uses that to her advantage to stage her betrayal.

Ambessa’s biggest mistake in this scene is her arrogance. She doesn’t consider for a second that Caitlyn will betray her. While she understands that Vi must be disposed of before she becomes a distraction for Caitlyn and ruins all of Ambessa’s manipulations, she fails to comprehend just how easily Vi could have gotten through to Caitlyn. 

In fact, Ambessa even gloats about how Vi’s absence provided a vacuum she was able to fill in Caitlyn; with manipulation, with Maddie, with fuelled hatred. Without Vi to ground her, Caitlyn, in Ambessa’s eyes, was easily shaped into her cold, ruthless commander. She can’t have Vi ruining that now. It’s why she knows she has to kill her if she wants to keep Caitlyn as her puppet.

The problem with Ambessa putting all of her money on Caitlyn’s hate for Jinx being stronger than any of her past feelings for Vi, is that Ambessa completely fails to recognise that Vi has already saved Caitlyn. All it took was for their eyes to lock again and Vi shattered the hard shell Ambessa worked hard to build around Caitlyn.

Don’t get me wrong, Caitlyn was starting to save herself (unbeknown to Ambessa, thanks to her ego) but Vi showed up at the right time, in the right place and offered Caitlyn a hand. A hand that Caitlyn took without a second of doubt.

Ambessa overlooks the importance of Vi’s duality to Caitlyn, that’s she’s Caitlyn’s biggest weakness but she’s also her biggest strength, until it’s too late. Caitlyn is already distracted, she’s already made her choice; it’s Vi.

I think this shows major growth for Caitlyn, because even though she doesn’t know about Jinx’s involvement at this stage, she still chooses Vi over Ambessa. She chooses Vi over her mission. She chooses Vi over her grief. It doesn’t take back her mistakes but it sets Caitlyn back on the right path, the path where she will protect people, especially those she loves.

Caitlyn follows Vi’s plan to subdue Signed and attempts to help Vander but Rictus stops her. It seems that while Ambessa trusted Caitlyn, Rictus wasn’t convinced. Just as it looks like he will kill Caitlyn, Jinx fires a shot and saves her.

Does Jinx do it because she cares about Caitlyn? No. Jinx saves Caitlyn to save Vander. Does Jinx know deep down that killing Caitlyn would affect the bridges she’s building with Vi? I absolutely think so.

As Vander saves Jinx from Rictus we see Vi rush in and embrace her family. Caitlyn, while betrayed by Jinx’s unexpected involvement, and who is still knocked down on the floor, briefly locks eyes with Vi only to witness Vi smiling and happy with her family. 

This is the first time Caitlyn gets to see Vi freely happy with the people she loves. All she’s ever witnessed from Vi before is pain. Pain at losing her parents, pain at losing Vander, pain at being locked away for years, pain for leaving Powder and having to accept Jinx. Pain from Caitlyn. And Jinx is right there too, looking happy and holding Vander and Vi in return. Has Vi forgiven Jinx? Can Vi forgive her? Can Caitlyn forgive any of it? 

It’s a lot for Caitlyn to process and she doesn’t really get a chance to before Jayce hammers Viktor to death and sends the place into chaos. 

Instead we see Caitlyn following behind Vi and Jinx as they run outside to see what’s going on. Warwick is back to being bloodthirsty now that Viktor is dead, and Ambessa has arrived with the Noxian army seeking revenge. Her eyes piercing Caitlyn glaringly for her betrayal before she attacks.

It’s important to note that not once during the fight sequence with Vander and the Noxians do we see Caitlyn try and take a shot at Jinx. She easily could have, at multiple points, but she doesn’t. 

Why?

Because when she freed Vi from Stillwater in S1 she decided to trust her. She trusted her because beneath Vi’s tough exterior Caitlyn could see her pain. Since that moment all Caitlyn has wanted to do is soothe Vi’s wounded heart. It’s why she didn’t shoot Jinx in the season 1 finale, it’s why she lets Vi stop her shooting Jinx in Ep3, and it’s why she doesn’t try to shoot Jinx now.

Caitlyn has been devastated by the loss of her mother at Jinx’s hands. It’s a pain she will never fully heal from, and in these moments Caitlyn has to decide if she wants to be responsible for adding to Vi’s pain. Can she kill Vi’s sister? Can she cause more suffering to the woman she loves? More than she already has? The answer is a resounding no. 

Because despite everything, Caitlyn is a good person with a good heart. She was just swept away and lost in her grief. But now she’s anchored again thanks to Vi. She may never forgive Jinx, she may always hate her for what she did but she will always love Vi more.

We see Caitlyn protecting Vi during the fight, and we even see her letting Vi go in order to save Jinx when she gallantly rushes in to try and save Isha.

By the end of Act 2 we stop seeing Commander Caitlyn Kiramman here and simply see Cait again. She’s definitely more bruised and hardened by her trauma and experiences but she’s there, fighting her way back to the surface.

This takes us into Act 3 and Caitlyn’s reconciliation with her true self and her steps towards atonement. 

/

Act 3:

Ep 8 -

This episode starts with an unconscious Vi awakening after her near death experience in ep6. Loris is there when she wakes and he tries to calm her down by answering her burning questions about the locations of Jinx and Cait.

Let’s just take a second to note that Vi isn’t just anywhere in Piltover, oh no, she’s tucked safely in Caitlyn’s bed in the Kiramman house. And Loris openly tells her that Caitlyn rounded up a squad of doctors to patch her back together. There’s a bunch of pillows piled on the side next to Vi - did Caitlyn watch over her while she healed? The show doesn’t explicitly state it, but Loris implies that Caitlyn wanted to be there when Vi woke, suggesting that Caitlyn hasn’t left her side often, and the reason for her absence must be important.

We get to see why Caitlyn isn’t at Vi’s side when she wakes just seconds later. Caitlyn is with Maddie, contemplating Ambessa’s inevitable attack on Piltover. She knows it’s coming, especially now that Ambessa knows of her betrayal. Considering Caitlyn has been the commander of the invasion into Zaun for months at this point, here we see her approach to be a little more cautious. No longer is she so warped by Ambessa’s reckless ways, or her hate fuelled mission for revenge against Jinx, now Caitlyn is trying to find her feet as commander in her own way; listening to her own morals and trying to make the right choices. Caitlyn knows there won’t be any negotiations with Ambessa thanks to her betrayal, and so careful, clever strategy is what she’s going to need to come up with, and fast, if she’s to save Piltover.

Maddie tries to offer comfort but Caitlyn straight up rejects her. Why? Because there was never any true affection between them. Maddie was just a distraction, a warm body to keep Caitlyn’s focus away from Vi and stuck in the darkness she was drowning in. But now that Vi's back in her orbit, Caitlyn is even less interested in Maddie, and the second Vi storms in demanding answers about Jinx, Caitlyn dismisses Maddie without a second thought.

Here we see some of the tension between Caitlyn and Vi boil to the surface. Their reunion in the previous episode was quick, it was based on innate trust and convenience, but there was no time for a proper resolution to the issues between them. Vi demands answers for why Jinx is locked away, accusing Caitlyn of still being on her blinding revenge quest against Jinx. When Caitlyn’s initial attempt to calm Vi falls on deaf ears, she retorts with anger at Vi’s lack of trust in her to do the right thing.

‘Arrested?’

‘Vi…’

‘She saved your life.’

‘If you will just calm down for one—’

‘Even knowing you’d never have done the same for her.’

‘We’ll never know, will we? You didn’t let me in on that part of your plan.’

‘Clearly the right call, since you can’t trust her enough not to shove her in a box.’

‘Trust? You believe I’m so daft I can’t recognise a contingency? She wasn’t there for my benefit. You didn’t trust me to follow through.’

‘Can you blame me? How long were you sidled up with that shifty, self-serving war pig? She oinked poison in your ear, and you just ate it!’

I think Vi’s defence here is fair, given that Vi not only witnessed Caitlyn’s hatred for Jinx morph into an obsession, but that she also got a taste of Caitlyn’s spiral into darkness herself when Caitlyn was cruel to her in ep3. She was in Zaun the entire time Caitlyn was enforcing Ambessa’s martial law too. Vi has seen the violence and the damage done at Caitlyn’s hands with her own eyes. So it’s not a surprise that Vi didn’t trust her fully when they reunited in ep6. Caitlyn has been under Ambessa’s thumb for far too long for Vi to assess just how much lasting damage has been done to Caitlyn in ep6. 

When Vi confronts Caitlyn with this harsh reality, Caitlyn cracks in shame and anger - ‘I know!’

Caitlyn can see what she’s done, what she’s become, and she takes accountability for it with this simple acknowledgement. She’s not a words girl, we know she’s more emotionally repressed when it comes to expressing herself that way, but as she sinks back onto the arm of the couch we can physically see her deflation. Caitlyn is very much aware of her mistakes. She knows she’s had her grief manipulated and that to an extent, because of her hatred of Jinx, she let it happen. It has cost Caitlyn greatly, and we see how fragile her relationship with Vi is now as a result.

But the best thing about this much needed heated exchange is that Caitlyn gets to show Vi that she’s not completely lost to her, that she has managed to start pulling herself out of her darkness. 

‘The only thing Jinx cared about was getting you to safety. Then she just surrendered. I didn’t even have time to think before they hailed her off. She’s being held in the bunker while I decide what to do. I was waiting for you to recover.’

Why did Caitlyn wait? 

Well she unfairly pushed the enforcer badge on to Vi back in episode 1 because she selfishly needed reassurance and loyalty during her spiraling grief. She forced Vi to choose between her and Jinx when deep down Cait knew that would be an impossible thing for Vi to do. 

Caitlyn waiting for Vi to recover before any decision is made about what happens to Jinx proves that Cait wants to atone. It shows Vi where she’s at, and Vi recognises the gesture immediately. There’s her Cait. It’s not commander Kiramman sitting before her, but the woman she was falling for back before Jinx’s attack at the end of season 1.

It gives Vi all she needs to fight for her family; for Jinx and for Cait.

‘Cait, she’s changed.’ 

Vi wants Cait to understand what she’s been going through, what she’s witnessed in regards to Jinx and Isha and the bridges they were beginning to build. But even though Cait hears this - Jinx saved her when she easily could have let Rictus kill her - she can’t quite accept it. Not because she doesn’t necessarily believe Vi but because how can anybody accept the unspeakable violence and acts that Jinx has done? That Caitlyn has done? In Caitlyn’s mind they’re inescapable and unforgivable.

‘We can’t erase our mistakes. None of us.’

But Vi is the voice of reason and immediately challenges her response with this soul searching question - ‘who decides who gets a second chance?’

The conflicting expressions that flicker across Caitlyn’s face as Vi leaves her at the end of this scene shows how carefully and heavily this question sits in Cait’s chest. 

Who does get to decide who deserves a second chance? Is it the responsibility of someone else to decide if you’re worthy? Or is it up to you to free yourself from the burdens of your mistakes?

It’s a set of questions that Caitlyn takes with her when she visits Jinx in her cell. 

We start by seeing Caitlyn taking Jinx a tray of food, a sign of her good heart and the extension of a tentative olive branch before they get into having their first ever, real conversation.

‘Vi thinks that you’ve changed.’

‘She can’t accept what you and I know. There are no happy endings.’

Jinx’s response to Caitlyn’s statement immediately brings us back to Vi’s question for Caitlyn - ‘who decides who gets a second chance?’

Jinx is just as closed off to the idea as Caitlyn (‘We can’t erase our mistakes. None of us.’) and that immediately triggers Caitlyn. Because if they’re right, if they don’t deserve second chances, what’s left of them both?

Caitlyn wants accountability; from Jinx, from herself, and so she presses further:

‘Is that all you have to say for yourself? There won’t be a trial. I’m giving you this one chance to account for your actions, all the pain you’ve caused.’

But Jinx continues to look defeated and doesn’t react, showing a shell of the person Caitlyn knew her to be - the Jinx that Caitlyn despised. Caitlyn grows frustrated and bangs her fist into the cell bars.

‘No amount of good deeds can undo our crimes.’

Here Caitlyn takes accountability by saying ‘our crimes’, she knows they’ve both caused pain, but even that doesn’t get a reaction. Jinx is empty; empty of anger, of hate, of taunts. All the time she’s spent being vengeful hasn’t made her feel better, or changed anything that’s happened, it’s just left her utterly exhausted. There’s no fight left in her and she admits as much to Caitlyn:

‘Do what you came here to do.’

Caitlyn’s lingering anger disappears instantly as she recognises Jinx’s predicament as her own. The cost of their hatred, of their vengeance hasn’t been worth it. It’s cost them both exponentially. They’re both shells of who they were, who they should be.

‘Hating you… I’ve hated myself. I just don’t have the energy for it any longer.’

Caitlyn starts to walk away but before she gets far Jinx gives her the accountability that Caitlyn needs to hear from Jinx in order to free herself of her self hatred:

‘I didn’t know your mom was there. It probably wouldn’t have made a difference, but… I didn’t know.’

It’s not a sorry. These two will never say sorry to each other. They will never like each other. But this is the moment Caitlyn lets go of her hatred, of her need for justice. Jinx’s confession releases Caitlyn from the burden of her guilt over her mother’s death and breaks their cycle of violence.

In return, we see Caitlyn answer Vi’s question. She doesn’t say sorry, or beg for forgiveness, she acts. She orders all the guards to the Hexgates, leaving Jinx unguarded, and in doing so grants Jinx her second chance. She does it not only for herself and for Jinx, but for Vi. 

Caitlyn knows Vi will free Jinx because Vi loves unconditionally. She fights for those she loves and she can’t give up on Jinx because they’re family and Vi feels responsible for her. It’s the essence of who Vi is.

It’s something Caitlyn has come to understand from her grief because she too couldn’t let go; of her mother, of her guilt, of her hatred. It’s because of love that she became the commander and made the mistakes she did, and it’s because of love that Vi will do what she needs to save her sister. But most importantly it's because of love that Caitlyn is willing to let Vi save Jinx, even if that means letting Vi go. Cait’s giving Vi the freedom to make her own choice despite knowing it could cost her what she wants. And what Caitlyn wants more than anything is Vi. 

Caitlyn’s atonement for her sins begins in that one beautiful, selfless act of letting go.

When we next see Caitlyn she is freeing Vi from the cell that Jinx locked her in. Vi is punishing herself for what she thinks is her having made the wrong choice again. She really thought Jinx would help, but she didn’t, she left Vi, and now Vi’s worried that by betraying Cait to free Jinx, she’s lost Caitlyn too. 

‘Did you really think I needed all the guards at the Hexgates? Sorry to say, you’ve grown a bit predictable.’

We already know that Cait set Jinx’s escape up for Vi. That she prioritized her love for Vi over her hatred for Jinx, and in the one confession, Vi now knows it too. Caitlyn acted for her. Caitlyn sees Vi and accepts her fully.

We’ve already established that Caitlyn knew Vi would try to save her sister, but what we didn’t know for certain, and what Caitlyn most definitely didn’t know for certain, is would Vi still be there and would Vi still want her?

Here we get Vi’s answer when Vi finally takes what she wants and kisses Cait. 

Caitlyn can’t quite believe it, but when Vi just keeps on kissing her, it clicks for Cait that Vi does want her just as much as she wants Vi.

I adore the use of lighting in this scene, and I’ve seen a few wonderful posts analysing this in detail, so I won’t overstep. But i just wanted to note how clever it is to see Vi pull Cait out of darkness and back into the light. And while we’re talking about the light I will quickly add on a bit about Maddie. Vi couldn’t give two fucks about her. She didn’t when she met her, she didn’t when she saw her in Cait’s house, and she doesn’t give a fuck if she was in Cait’s bed. Vi knows Cait lost herself, and Maddie was simply something for Cait to lose herself in, as much as fighting and alcohol was for Vi. All that matters is now, and what matters now is her and Cait.

I could talk about their sex scene beat by beat but I think the fandom has analysed it to death beautifully already. What I will say is we see the culmination of both their arcs here. Vi, at Jinx’s behest, finally lets herself be happy and what makes her happy is Caitlyn. And Caitlyn uses every touch to apologise, to show her love and regret to Vi. She gives up the control that has kept her blindly focused on her revenge and hatred. Cait gives herself over completely to Vi’s love and redeems her soul by doing so. It’s beautiful to see Vi finally take what she wants.

The culmination of this episode is heartwarming. We see Cait giving Jinx a second chance, Jinx then in turn gives Vi a second chance by setting her free from the burden of their tormented past, and Vi returns that grace by granting Cait a second chance from her mistakes. 

The three of them break the cycle together.

—-

Ep 9 -

A lot happens in this final episode but I’m strictly going to try and focus on Caitlyn and Vi before this analysis grows any longer.

Piltover is preparing for Ambessa’s and Viktor’s attack. We see Caitlyn and Vi in the council bunker with Jayce and Mel. Here Jayce tells Caitlyn, Vi and Mel that he needs them to take the enforcers and buy him as much time against Ambessa’s forces while he shuts down the Hexgates.

When Jayce says this is a fight they’re supposed to lose, Vi’s fist visibly clenches. She doesn’t like losing fights, and definitely doesn’t want to lose this one now that she’s finally letting herself be happy, but you can tell Vi is tired. She’s been fucking through it emotionally and physically these past 2 seasons and Cait catches her anxiety instantly. It’s only a fleeting moment, but we see Cait cover Vi’s hand and squeeze in support and encouragement. Vi doesn’t have to fight alone anymore. They can fight together.

Here we see Caitlyn embodying her role as the commander she was always meant to be when she says they can stop Viktor, and determidly shoves his little model down. I love seeing her so strong and resolved here. She’s got far too much to fight for and to put right to admit defeat so easily.

While Vi is off with her batch of enforcers leading a charge from one of the towers, Caitlyn is down in the front line with her own squad fighting back the Noxian forces who have Ambessa leading the charge. 

We see Caitlyn with her trusty rifle and Maddie as her spotter fighting hard, but can only watch in horror as a shimmer fuelled army seems to be relentlessly coming for them. Commander Caitlyn kicks in and keeps her team going even when it seems like they might be losing. She fights with everything she has to put their plan into action, knowing that she has mistakes to atone for.

But something goes wrong and before she knows what’s happening, Caitlyn takes a massive hit to the back of the head. It winds her and leaves her struggling to get up, and when she does it’s to see that her enforcers have been captured by the Noxian troops, and Ambessa is marching straight towards her.

When she glances back to see who has a rifle aimed at the back of her head, Caitlyn comes face to face with Maddie. It’s here that we get the reveal that Maddie is a Noxian spy and has been working for Ambessa the entire time. It’s another mistake for Caitlyn, a failing of her judgment, once again made during her grief and manipulated by Ambessa perfectly.

‘I warned you of the hazards of professional entanglement.’

Ambessa’s gloating is a horrible reminder of how fair Caitlyn let herself fall beneath Ambessa’s influence, and I think it’s this self awareness, this shame, that causes Caitlyn to take her chance. She never really had any true feelings for Maddie, Caitlyn was using her for distraction just as Maddie was using her for information, and now she has an opportunity to atone for her sins by ending this war if she can just get the shot on Ambessa.

Caitlyn smashes the rifle back into Maddie’s face as she grabs it from her and takes her aim at Ambessa. But of course Ambessa anticipates Caitlyn’s reckless attempt, she goaded her into it after all, and Caitlyn once again pays the price for her mistakes when Ambessa thwarts her attack and stab’s Caitlyn in the stomach instead.

When Caitlyn falls to her knees before Ambessa and her mocking ‘desperation is the doorway to oblivion, child’ you can see the sorrow on Cait’s face. In her eyes she has failed. She’s failed Piltover, she’s failed herself, and she’s failed Vi. Filled with regret, I imagine Cait’s life flashes before her eyes as Maddie loads the gun and takes the shot.

There’s the sound of the gun firing, a cracking of gold, and then the wet sound of blood. Maddie’s body slops weightless down against her back before slumping to the ground and Caitlyn is left with the stark realisation that she isn’t dead. Her second chance is truly a second chance.

Enter Mel, in all her glorious magical power. While she faces off with her mother, Jinx joins the battle in her outlandish way, and the symbolism of second choices being worth having comes full circle as the chaos of her arrival grants Piltover and Zaun another chance to fight back.

The enforcers break free during the chaos and continue to fight, and Viktor’s hive mind army starts rushing the Hexgate while Mel and Caitlyn face off with Ambessa. 

This fight shows off Caitlyn’s redemption arc beautifully. With renewed strength Caitlyn is back on her feet and circling Ambessa as she exchanges heated words with Mel.

Fuck words though, Caitlyn is a woman made of action, and with determination thrumming through her veins, she punches Ambessa in the face, cutting off her self-serving tirade.

‘Shut up and fight.’

Caitlyn truly becomes the commander she was always meant to be when she challenges Ambessa here. She has a lot to prove, a lot to atone for and a lot left to fight for, and Caitlyn gives every bit of herself over to it, consequences be damned. She’s willing to give her life to save everyone, and if that’s not Caitlyn trying to be redeemed I don’t know what else she could do.

The fight sequence is incredible. Ambessa takes on her daughter duo skillfully. Ambessa is a tank of a woman, a fearless leader and a fierce fighter. But Caitlyn has grown and changed. She’s not the naive child Ambessa manipulated anymore, she’s a wise, hardened warrior with a good heart and an unwavering desire to make amends.

We see Caitlyn’s true, courageous strength in this scene as she uses Ambessa’s own Noxian teachings against her;

Caitlyn fights with all her might; she ignores the blade in her stomach and goes for Ambessa again and again, taking blow after blow but never quitting. 

She fights with vision; her intuitiveness effectively analysing Ambessa’s movement, choices and weaknesses. She sees the runic band around her arm deflecting Mel’s attacks, and plans to use it against her.

She fights with guile; when Ambessa has her on her knees, a blade heading towards her eye, and Ambessa’s air of victory about her, Cait uses the blade in her stomach to make her move and slices the band from Ambessa’s arm.

But most importantly Caitlyn sacrifices.

In season 1 she trades her prized rifle, which is essentially an extension of who Caitlyn is at her very core, to get the medicine needed to save Vi. Here, in the fight against Ambessa, Caitlyn gives over even more. She gives her eye - an actual piece of herself - to try and save Piltover and Zaun. Cait is a marksman, her sight is imperative, and yet Caitlyn gives her eye freely. She doesn’t do it for forgiveness but because she needs to try and make amends and put things right. She does it because she was willing to pay the ultimate price of her sins.

Words mean a lot, but so do actions, and Cait is redeemed by hers in these final episodes, in my opinion at least. 

After the battle is over and it appears they’ve won we don’t see Cait and Vi again until the very end but we do see Sevika taking a seat at the council. Cait has given her seat to Zaun. She took so much from them during her grief and hatred and now that she’s free from that, she gives them her seat so they can have a voice. Their own voice. I don’t personally see how Caitlyn could ever remain in the council when she was an oppressor to Zaun. She had to step back and give that up in order for the divide between Piltover and Zaun to continue to grow and heal. Her purpose in rebuilding will be found elsewhere.

With that said, we don’t know if Cait is still an enforcer or not, but we do see eye-patch Caitlyn back to her investigative ways. She’s pensively studying the Hexgates blueprint while twirling a piece of shrapnel between her fingers. It’s not just any piece of shrapnel though, it’s the head of one of Jinx’s monkey bombs. Caitlyn zooms in on the vents leading off the Hexgates, and it appears she’s pondering one question; could Jinx have survived and escaped?

The question is why is Caitlyn looking in the first place. Is she looking to simply help Vi with getting closure? Or is Cait looking because second chances and forgiveness become more healing with time? Is there a world where Caitlyn and Jinx can grow and heal enough to both be in Vi’s orbit without hurting her? It’s left open to interpretation. But it’s hopeful after all the pain the three of them have endured.

We see Vi looking emotionally and physically spent as she hums to herself. But she also looks calm and at peace. Humming, enjoying the fire, comfortably sitting like she’s at home in the Kiramman house. It’s heartwarming to see Vi looking safe; like she belongs.

Cait comes through from her investigating, and teases Vi slightly showing a domestic growth in their relationship. We don’t know how long it’s been but we can assume both cities are still in a state of rebuild and change. 

Caitlyn is still a Kiramman however. She might not be a commander anymore but she still has a sense of duty and will always want to help, and she checks in with Vi to see if she’s still there with her. Because Vi doesn’t have to fight anymore if she doesn’t want to, and if she doesn’t, Caitlyn won’t ask her too. 

‘Are you still in this fight, Violet?’

But the thing about Vi is no matter how emotionally and physically exhausted she is, or how beaten down, Vi will always get up. It’s just who Violet is at her core. Vi fights for what she loves, to protect and help them, and the person Vi loves more than anything is Caitlyn, so of course Vi is right there with her. 

‘I am the dirt under your nails, cupcake. Nothing’s gonna clean me out.’

Together they will weep, and laugh, and love, and heal, and work to make things better. Together they will keep moving forwards, always.

——

With all that picked apart, I think Caitlyn is a well rounded, flawed character, and she’ll always be up there as one of my favourites now. We see her go through hell and back and come out the other side with a good heart. She’s not perfect… but just like Vi, I love her.

[whamgram]

Charlastor Week - Day 7 - Free Day

 An AU where Charlie and Alastor are podcasters. 🎙️ This one has been percolating in my brain for a while! Plot summary under the cut.

Alastor is the OG overlord of true crime. Back in his college days, he and his roommate Vox started what would become one of the first ever podcasts. With Vox’s tech savviness and Alastor’s knack for dramatic storytelling, The Hazbin Radio Program quickly became the podcast playing in every commuter’s car, gym bro’s headphones, and office jockey’s earbuds. Focusing on crimes where the victim “deserved what they got” might be controversial, but Alastor’s jazzy interludes and old timey radio schtick add a certain kind of whimsy to every episode.

As Vox grew their dorm room recordings into a digital media empire, Alastor struggled to remain authentic in a world being rapidly consumed by social media and influencer culture. The two friends had a huge falling out. Knowing it would mean death for his beloved radio program if he didn’t stay, Alastor remained under contract with Voxtek Entertainment. Years later, his listenership is dwindling, his sponsors are dropping like flies, and his desperation is stronger than ever to finally break away and have complete creative control of his show.

Charlie has big dreams, a bigger heart, and a behemoth of a family legacy she’s trying to separate herself from. The Morningstar family name is synonymous with pain and punishment, as their network of for-profit prisons house nearly every incarcerated individual in the country. But Charlie refuses to let her rich and influential father buy her way into the industry. The Happy Podcast’s moderate success was due to her hard work, passion, and the secondhand recording equipment she bought with her own money. Like every amateur influencer, she dreams of landing a contract with VoxTek Entertainment. Not for the bragging rights or all those sweet endorsement deals, but because she truly believes that her podcast can inspire her listeners to be better people.

The Happy Podcast is a mix of self-help, advocacy, social commentary, and whatever else Charlie feels passionate about that week. This can sometimes cause a bit of controversy, like when her strong feelings about prison reform lead to an unhinged rant about why a recently imprisoned axe murderer “deserves a second chance” because “he was a good guy who volunteered at his local animal shelter”. Despite this, she still snags an invite to the annual VTE Summit and is hoping to get some facetime with the media mogul himself.

It’s at the VTE Summit that Alastor and Charlie meet. Charlie is as starstruck as she is charmed by the mystery man behind her favorite guilty pleasure podcast. Alastor finds himself instantly drawn to the bubbly young woman who knows a surprising amount about true crime. In a cesspool of wannabe celebrities and people who would sell their soul for a brand deal, she feels like the only other person who’s in it for the craft and the content, not the clout.

Be it fate, coincidence, or a bit of meddling on Alastor’s part, they continue to cross paths and eventually agree to help each other out. Alastor teaches Charlie the art of presentation and storytelling while she brings his technical skills into the 21st century so he can start producing his podcast on his own.

As the pair dance around their feelings and look for any excuse to spend time with each other, Charlie asks Alastor to be a guest on her show. It goes so well, he asks her to be a guest on his. Even their audiences can’t deny the chemistry between them. No one would have thought this odd pair of podcasts would work so well together, but the sky-rocketed ratings and influx of sponsorships speak for themselves.

They both are soon to get everything they always wanted. That is, until Charlie starts to wonder exactly how Alastor knows so much about the victims he discusses on his show.

[love-of-the-red-star]

Halloween Special: The “Bellboy”

Summary: Planting the seeds of freedom always entailed a violence in some form, and while you’d rather resolve it passively like you used to, people are difficult. Cult leaders even more so.

Aka you play the classic game of pretend like in Sigonia IV— this time you’re not a woman, but just a boy.

(Excuse my fuckass art)

“That won’t do, Mr. Wood.” The young boy with wine red hair stated, almost bored, twirling a lock of wavy hair between his fingers as Gopher Wood winced.

There’s blood on his fingers, there is warmth on his chin, and his eyes sting.

“Oh tri—“ Not even another syllable was uttered before he’s shushed by the boy.

“I wouldn’t recommend trying to force that method to go through. It. Won’t. Work.” He told him as a matter of fact, the older man fell down his knees as the throbbing inside his head worsened. “Any more than what you’re doing now and you’ll disintegrate— oh wait, it’s already starting.”

His hands are melting.

“I don’t like having to force people to bend to my whims— that defeats the purpose of what I exist for. Unfortunately, I think you’re too far gone.” The boy’s words are muffled as his ears started to ring.

Louder and louder, til the boy’s words are faint.

“Well, I guess that’s to be expected. I cannot save everybody or make everybody happy, and I tried giving you a choice and this is what you chose.”

Gopher looked up, and in what little logic he could grasp amidst the pain and disorientation, he saw the boy’s expression morph to one of remorse.

Genuine, pained. As if he was regretting this choice.

Gopher knew he’s saying more words, but the ringing in his ears are louder than the boy’s soft voice.

Then everything grew silent.

——————————

On a good summer day, Gopher Wood appointed the hotel another bellboy.

Right around Sunday’s age, he’s lean and reliable and good, albeit awkward. Sporting wine red hair and forest green eyes, he is not a bad sight to see around his child.

He called himself “Millicent”, a name strangely feminine for a boy but oddly suiting to his appearance.

It’s strange though— Gopher swore that he could see something just a tad bit off about him if he squinted or looked close enough, but whatever that imperfection was, it’d be gone in the blink of an eye.

He frowned, brows furrowed as Millicent attended to the new guests, charming and endearing enough that he knows the customers would keep asking for him next.

No one noticed anything wrong aside from him. That, or maybe he was getting old and his senses are starting to fail him.

“Good morning Mr. Wood.” Millicent cheerily greeted him, eyes bright and happy and smile sweet. Gopher returned his greeting in kind, albeit calmer and more composed.

“How was your day here, child?” Gopher asked, subtly glancing at the way the boy drummed his fingers against the luggage he’s on the way to tow off to some guest— Gopher remembers it to be an influential woman, who thankfully immediately took a liking to the hotel and the whole of Penacony.

“It’s fine… the young Madame— our new guest has been kind and gave me a souvenir.” The boy cleared his throat mid sentence, then played with a lock of his red hair between the pads of his fingers, not looking Gopher in the eye as his expression became bashful.

“Oh?” Gopher’s curiosity was piqued, he had his fair share of stories of guests liking his servants, but he’d like to check for this one just in case there was anything inappropriate happening.

“She gave me a cake!” The boy blurted out. “S-sorry sir, I couldn’t say no….” He began to sweat profusely, like a child getting caught taking cookies from the jar in the night. Gopher doesn’t mind, not really.

Happy workers meant a happy environment.

At the very least, the boy was safe and there was nothing inappropriate happening. He’d hate for the child’s eyes to dim, so very full of life much like his children, Robin and Sunday….

He dismissed his own musings and bid the boy goodbye so he could head to his duties, leaving the redhead behind.

Gopher could have sworn he saw the boy look at him coldly before he disappeared from his line of sight.

——————

It started small, with the lights flickering in the hallway and the way his lamp would refuse to turn on.

Millicent’s little smile had been particularly tight that day, nervous if anything else as he approached Gopher with care, seemingly afraid to anger him.

“The young Madame from room 107 said there was red in her sink.” Millicent blurted out, and Gopher frowned in response. “Then the person next door’s…. I don’t know the details, but the medics said the flesh under his skin turned into wire.”

Ah, Gopher remembers that guest— an unpleasant fool, a particularly difficult customer that couldn’t be pleased with the means provided to him in reality.

Unpleasant customers aren’t uncommon, but they’ve taken a silent approach ever since the incidents began a few days prior.

That’s why Millicent stood before him, detailing what had happened as he had asked the boy and the other staff to inform him of anything and everything since the strange occurrences.

“Wire?” Gopher carefully pried, and the boy nodded quickly.

“I only overheard it, but they said his muscles looked like the cables you’d see in an electrical room.” Millicent fiddled with his fingers, brows furrowed as he refused to look at him in the eye. “Oh and…. Some of the stuff that mister had used turned to mud.”

There’s a slight hint of satisfaction inside that statement that Gopher would have missed had he not been listening intently. It doesn’t matter much, although it is amusing that this boy was trying to hide that little glee of putting a man to his place to himself.

“I see.” He hummed. “How are you faring? And how are the others?” He asked, putting his hands and slotting his fingers neatly against each other. For a moment he thought he saw his green eyes dim, the shadow behind him morphing into something that didn’t look quite right.

Gopher blinked, and the image is normal again.

“I’m okay, just a bit surprised, that’s all.” Millicent trailed off, and Gopher sensed this to be a lie. “It’s not everyday you witness people have their flesh turn into cables and furniture turning into mud and hearing your coworkers scream— s-sorry! That was out of turn.” It was not, but the boy apologized anyways. “My coworkers…. They’re okay, they’re scared though.”

Gopher keenly observed him like a bird as he curled in to himself, before he cleared his throat and dismissed the boy— another member of the staff coming in right after him.

Something’s not right, and he doesn’t know why.

Whatever it was that was wreaking havoc in the hotel was not in the words of the Order, or part of it. Whatever it was, he’ll find out soon enough.

It was just too bad that he didn’t get to see the way Millicent grinned after he left the room seeing his turmoil.

There’s a reason why people say ignorance is bliss. Too bad that’s not a luxury that Gopher Wood will be granted with.

—————————

It had been Robin who began to suspect first.

“Father, something’s wrong with that boy.” She began, looking up at him with worried eyes as her halo thrummed.

“Which one?” Gopher asked, keeping that tranquil smile on his face as he focused his attention to his beautiful daughter.

“The one with red hair..” she trailed off, and he immediately knew who.

“Why is that? What makes you think something is wrong with him?” Gopher felt that he knew of the answer already; from the way that his image would distort, fade, or appear as if it was just… a puppet made of flesh emulating a mockery of human emotion. Halovians were particularly sensitive to people and their emotions… but that boy, he felt as if he wasn’t even a person at all for something that appeared so expressive.

“He feels—“

“Wrong?” Gopher’s smiled widened by a fraction and Robin was disturbed as her father finished her sentence for her.

“Yes.” She said. “Every time I try to know what he’s feeling, I get nauseous. Like I’m experiencing too many things at once.” She frowned, her worries deepening at every word she uttered. “It felt like I was peering into an animal and not at the same time.”

Gopher was silent, choosing to listen to his daughter tell him more. Now that she brought it up, Gopher began to reflect on the times they’ve interacted. He shouldn’t come to conclusions yet, if he wanted answers, it must come from the boy himself.

It was a little early to speak, as it was Sunday’s off handed comment that hit the nail on the head.

“I spoke to one of the bellboys the other day and one of them told me to stay off the 5th floor in the 11th room.”

That little comment had Gopher pause in his work. That was the exact same location where some of the more unpleasant guests he housed resided, and where another recent incident happened.

Unpleasant people couldn’t be avoided, and even they were welcomed by Xipe’s arms. Still, he thinks it must be a form of retribution for all the evil they’ve been doing. A way of enacting Order. Still, it is improper, unclean.

“What time did you speak to the bellboy?” He slowly spoke, and Sunday replied as precisely as he expected.

“3:44 in the afternoon.”

The incident happened an hour after that.

“And who did you speak to?”

“A boy named Millicent.”

Gopher smiled, the fine line of his lips tight as his eyes closed. There is a strange tranquility in knowing who may be the one starting this now, and while Millicent appeared harmless, Gopher knew better than to trust outward appearances.

“Are you alright, father?” Sunday asked, and Gopher shot him an affectionate look— one that was proud, one that was relieved.

“Yes, yes I am.” He said. “Will you call on that boy for me? There is something I need to speak to him with.”

Sunday frowned, but nodded hesitantly as he left for the door.

He has questions he wants answers to, and that boy will give him what he wants, whether he’d like to or not.

————

Gopher was a little irked to see the boy act nervous as he entered the office.

“I assume you know what you’re in here for, Fool.”

“I don’t understand what you mean, sir.” Millicent shuffled his feet like a guilty child, feigning innocence.

Gopher Wood’s halo thrummed. “Speak, and cease your deceit, I will not be fooled twice, Fool.”

His halo glowed, and suddenly the boy grinned. “Playing that cheap trick, I see.” His voice was no longer shy, and he now stood differently.

“Well played, but too bad you’re wrong.” He said, sighing. The clock ticked ominously in the background as the bells signaled the passing of time. It is midnight.

“I’m no masked fool— although you’d send AHA laughing with you assuming I’m one of their own.” Slowly but surely, the layers peeled. With the glow of his halo, Gopher no longer saw a child.

“What would you be if not one of them?” Gopher inquired. “You caused chaos in this world— one that is unwelcome.”

“Pfft, tell that to AHA. They’re the one who requested I make my little entrance a bit entertaining.” The boy rolled his eyes, making air quotes at his last words. “ Anyways, you’re asking for what I am if not a masked fool— well, I’m something else, maybe a friend.” The boy stated. “Also, don’t mention them too often or they’ll hear you.”

“What of it if THEY hear?”

“You don’t want to know, just know that the Order isn’t here to protect you.” Gopher froze at his words. “You know, as much as I do actually appreciate Ena for what they represent, it’s you lot that are nuts in the head for bringing people down with you.”

“But… yeah.” He drawled, rather ungracefully. “If you’re nice enough to follow along, I got one request. Just one.”

Gopher narrowed his eyes, but listened to “Millicent”.

“Back off of reviving a dead Aeon and grooming your kid for Ena. You’re building a cage for them, not a paradise, Pathstrider of the Order.”

How did he know that? How did the boy know?

“You wanna know how I know you’re not Xipe’s? Is that what you’re gonna ask?” He grinned, and it’s one that looked as if he was relishing in the disbelief. “I smell Ena on you— nah actually you reek of them.”

“You’re rubbing off that smell on Sunday too— poor guy, just groomed by his own father for an Aeon that’s already served it’s purpose.” The boy’s voice started to sound a bit more grating to his ears now as he gritted his teeth. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna expose you, that’s why I’m here to ask you nicely to fuck off.”

After that, Gopher laughed.

“You expect me to follow along?” Gopher wheezed. “My life’s work.. you expect me to give it up just because you are asking me to?”

“Yeah, I don’t like unnecessary trouble and deaths— maybe except for the people that caused trouble for the staff. In my defense, they were asking for it.” Millicent shook his head, as if disappointed.

“I thought you were a reasonable man— as much as I don’t like to say this, you are a pretty decent parent, grooming your son aside.” He looked at Gopher in the eye. “So, will you back off? Or will you continue to play into being a dead god’s puppet?”

Gopher only smiled, his halo thrumming as the boy frowned.

“Last warning, don’t try to sear me using the light of Xipe, it’ll spell pretty bad—“ he didn’t get to finish his sentence as Gopher Wood uttered the words that he thought would punish the boy and smite him forever.

“Oh triple faced soul…” His vision started to distort. Was the room always this strange looking? “Please sear his tongue and palms with hot iron…..” his voice was starting to grow distant, and so he stopped.

The feeling of his head was starting to return to him, though it took moments. His halo did not stop thrumming.

“So that he will not— ARGH!” There’s a sharp pain, one that he couldn’t quite describe as his neck stiffened.

“That won’t do, Mr. Wood.” The young boy with wine red hair stated, almost bored, twirling a lock of wavy hair between his fingers as he winced.

There’s blood on his fingers, there is warmth on his chin, and his eyes stung.

What on earth was happening?

“Oh tri—“ He tried again, but not even another syllable was uttered by him before he’s shushed by the boy.

“Man, you’re stubborn, I’ll give you that.” Millicent shook his head. “I wouldn’t recommend trying to force that method to go through. It. Won’t. Work.” He told him as a matter of fact, the older man fell down his knees as the throbbing inside his head worsened. “Any more than what you’re doing now and you’ll disintegrate— oh wait, it’s already starting.”

His hands are melting.

“I don’t like having to force people to bend to my whims— that defeats the purpose of what I exist for. Unfortunately, I think you’re too far gone.” The boy’s words are muffled as his ears started to ring.

Louder and louder, til the boy’s words are faint.

“Well, I guess that’s to be expected. I cannot save everybody or make everybody happy,” Millicent sighed, tired. “I tried giving you a choice and this is what you chose.”

Gopher looked up, and in what little logic he could grasp amidst the pain and disorientation, he saw the boy’s expression morph to one of remorse(?). At least it looked to be remorse.

Genuine, pained. As if he was regretting this choice. Then saddened.

He knew he’s saying more words, but the ringing in his ears are louder than the boy’s soft voice.

Then everything grew silent as his body disassembled into familiar, horrific looking shapes.

The grandfather clock ticks. It’s 3:06 am.

————————

Hey guys I’m back!!! Sort of suffering from writer’s block rn but here’s the sort of Penacony chapter! I pulled this out of my ass so it’s not very good— might edit it and add more scenes later on but enjoy this absolute word vomit.

Thank you for the support! Love you! And happy Halloween <333

[mrs-stans]

Golden Globe Reactions

Jeremy Strong

It felt like much of Hollywood wouldn’t touch this film with a 10-foot pole. Were you surprised to see your name and Sebastian’s included today?

A 100-foot pole! I was incredibly surprised and gratified. I found it thrilling, especially Sebastian. You know, his work in this film is as good as any performance I’ve ever seen in a film – and I worked on “Lincoln.” I think it’s that good. For whatever reason, this moment that we’re in, of a reticence in our culture to go to places that are difficult or uncomfortable, or to touch the third rail — people just didn’t want to support this movie. It’s been a battle. Studios didn’t want to touch it. The streamers wouldn’t touch it. Even in the lead up to the election, I reached out to someone who runs one of the studios and said, “What do you think? Can we do this now that Trump has come out against the film and called us human scum?”

I think this film has a lot to say about this historical moment. I think it is capable of moving the needle, in an even infinitesimally small way. It can at least offer insight beyond a Wikipedia page or the way we get our information now. I was told, “It’s too hot.” It’s been dismaying. I was prepared for the movie to be left out of this part of the conversation, so today’s news was just really amazing. For the Globes to recognize this work, just on the grounds of its artistry, that’s been the real hard thing. Ali Abbasi is a visionary filmmaker, and he made a really fearless piece of art. I think this movie has as much in common with “Barry Lyndon” and “Boogie Nights” and “Midnight Cowboy” and “Mean Streets” and a Shakespeare play than it does with any kind of political diatribe. I think a lot of people still haven’t seen the film, because they have a preconception of what kind of film it is. It’s really not what you expect. I think it’s a very bold, an exciting film that also puts its finger on the pulse of where we are right now.

It’s certainly been talked about far more in a political light than in an artistic one. Of course, a Trump story is inherently political in this climate, but the film is really a character study.

We’ve been trying to get people to see the film. We don’t have a studio behind us. We don’t have a budget for any of these things. We can’t participate in some of these bellwether events that you have to pay to participate in. We’ve been excluded from awards things because the publications have not wanted to “support anything to do with Trump.” I feel a bit stupefied by it, because the truth is, if we’re talking about the art form of acting, this kind of stuff is the highest level of difficulty. What Sebastian did in this movie, the challenge that we both had, the size of the limb to go out on … this film exists in this moment that is difficult for people. Anthony Hopkins played Hannibal Lecter and Hitler, as well as Picasso and C.S. Lewis. For some reason, this film has been declared a no-fly zone.

It’s clear how much admiration you have for Sebastian and his work on this film. Have you spoken with him today?

We texted a bit. I’m just so happy for him. I mean, he was nominated twice today! He’s a heavyweight actor. My greatest hope is that today we’ll invite more people to see the film. If both of the lead performances are nominated for Globes, then surely it’s worth watching or just paying attention to. Maybe that will help reframe the conversation around the film, which has been slightly overlooked. If the role of storytelling is to hold a mirror up to nature, as he says in Hamlet, “to show the very age and body of the time its form and pressures,” I can’t think of something that does that more than this film. This is what we’re living through right now, and it is the past as prologue. Kai Bird wrote the “Oppenheimer” biography, and his next book is about Cohn. That alone speaks to how influential he is on this moment that we’re in. Sean Penn hosted a screening for Sebastian and I two weeks ago. Sean said, “Just wait, you’ll see, this film will have a second life.” I hope that’s the case.

[artsekey]

Recommended Media | 2024 Roundup!

Hey, everyone! I decided to collect a list of my top media of 2024; I'm very picky about how I spend my limited free time, and everything on this list gets a 10/10 recommendation from me!

I don't do reviews often, but I personally prioritize strong storytelling over everything else... though as a professor of animated film, I'm a sucker for strong technical execution, too! The media included on this list were not necessarily released in 2024, either-- I personally experienced them for the first time this year.

Best Shows:

These pieces of media are exemplars of storytelling and objectively excellent technical execution; I'd recommend them to most.

Blue Eye Samurai was captivating from start to finish-- so much so that I watched it three times all the way through! I'm not one to re-watch shows, but this was a true gem. The style didn't draw me in at first, and I'm not a huge fan of the genre, but the tight writing, clear themes, and artistic execution make this a much-watch for me.

Unsurprisingly, Fortiche's Arcane makes the list. Not only did the team do a great job of creating an immersive world and compelling characters, but the art direction on this show has been phenomenally influential in the animation world. Everything-- from the editing, camerawork, animation, voice acting, foley-work, score, and pacing-- is excellent. I use sections of this show in my Master's level courses because the use of film theory is so consistent and well executed!

Pluto is a beautifully animated adaptation of the 2003 Award-Winning Manga by the same name that discusses the horrors and aftermath of war through the lens of a futuristic sci-fi murder-mystery. Though it gets off to a slow start-- demanding a three episode investment before it truly has you hooked-- its beautiful visuals and compelling narrative act as a wonderful tribute to a touching and poignant story.

Best Games:

Big Mode's Animal Well is the indie studio's debut title, and as someone who loves story, this game... has none. It's on this list because despite my aversion to story-light games, I could not put it down. It's a reasonably priced, beautifully art-directed puzzler that rewards exploration and experimentation in a way that few modern games do.

Atlus's Persona 4: Golden has my whole heart. I played Persona 5, enjoyed it, but picked up Persona 4 while on vacation. It is, by far, my favorite Persona game. You arrive in a small, rural town on the heels of a gruesome murder and slowly collected a group of misfit teenagers who are truly struggling to figure out who they are. Every character feels well-rounded, and at over 150 hrs of playtime, this dated title-- available on Switch-- is worth every penny, even in 2024.

Hiding Spot's Beacon Pines is a touching story about a kid slowly unraveling the dark history of his hometown. Though it's a short experience, the mechanics offer a fun and unique twist on the visual novel genre that had me coming back for more over and over again! The art is adorable, the music is sweet, and the story is a compelling delight that gives the player the convincing illusion of agency.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Alla Nazimova (A Doll's House, Camille, Salomé)—She was a proud lesbian, she was a director, she was artsy and experimental, she was instrumental in the rise to fame of Rudolph Valentino, she had the worlds biggest strap on energy

Xia Meng, also known as Hsia Moog or Miranda Yang (Sunrise, Bride Hunter)—For those who are familiar with Hong Kong's early cinema, Xia Meng is THE leading woman of an era, the earliest "silver-screen goddess", "The Great Beauty" and "Audrey Hepburn of the East". Xia Meng starred in 38 films in her 17-year career, and famously had rarely any flops, from her first film at the age of 18 to her last at the age of 35. She was a rare all-round actress in Mandarin-language films, acting, singing, and dancing with an enchanting ease in films of diverse genres, from contemporary drama to period operas. She was regarded as the "crown princess" among the "Three Princesses of the Great Wall", the iconic leading stars of the Great Wall Movie Enterprises, which was Hong Kong's leading left-wing studio in the 1950s-60s. At the time, Hong Kong cinema had only just taken off, but Xia Meng's influence had already spread out to China, Singapore, etc. Overseas Chinese-language magazines and newspapers often featured her on their covers. The famous HK wuxia novelist Jin Yong had such a huge crush on her that he made up a whole fake identity as a nobody-screenwriter to join the Great Wall studio just so he can write scripts for her. He famously said, "No one has really seen how beautiful Xi Shi (one of the renowned Four Beauties of ancient China) is, I think she should be just like Xia Meng to live up to her name." In 1980, she returned to the HK film industry by forming the Bluebird Movie Enterprises. As a producer with a heart for the community, she wanted to make a film on the Vietnam War and the many Vietnam War refugees migrating to Hong Kong. She approached director Ann Hui and produced the debut film Boat People (1982), a globally successful movie and landmark feature for Hong Kong New Wave, which won several awards including the best picture and best director in the second Hong Kong Film Award. Years later, Ann Hui looked back on her collaboration with Xia Meng, "I'm very grateful to her for allowing me to make what is probably the best film I've ever made in my life."

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Alla Nazimova:

HOT as hell. GAY as hell. TALENTED as hell. Producer, director, writer, actress. A silent era superstar who is credited with having coined the term "sewing circle" as a code-word for gatherings of lesbian and bisexual women. Has been called "the founding mother of Sapphic Hollywood" and was the owner/operator of the Garden of Alla Hotel in West Hollywood, which she bought in 1919 and sold in 1928 after deciding she wanted to go back to Broadway. In addition to starring opposite Valentino in Camille, she also had an affair with BOTH of his wives (Jean Acker and Natacha Rambova). In her day, she was one of the most influential women in the business.

"Nazimova was primarily a star during the silent film era, and her career in film started when she was almost forty. She was openly bisexual, and was engaged in two lavender marriages during her life while she carried on relationships with women (including at least one, and possibly two, of Rudolph Valentino's wives). She was brilliant and an autodidact - when she first moved to the United States from Ukraine, she spoke no English, but taught herself "in about five months" and went on to work as a screenwriter (among other things). Her predilections lay in art film, and she's credited with starring in / producing / directing one of the first American art films, the adaptation of Oscar Wilde's play Salome (1923). She has an elegant and commanding presence in all of her films, and is an absolute sensation to watch in motion."

Gif link, another gif link

A great actress who also produced a great deal of her films, Nazimova is absolutely mesmerizing to watch. She was also bi and coined the phrase "sewing circle" for sapphic celebrities.

Xia Meng:

[hlficlibrary]

Heeey! Can you recommend me some fics that just scream!! flirting and sexual tension? Like, where they meet and immediately start shamelessly flirting with each other, no holding back kinda like Escapade or Mine Would Be You. Any category works, seriously. I just really miss the vibes from Escapade 😭

Hi, anon! Here are some fics with lots of flirting and sexual tension for you! Edited to add: I also have this rec you can take a look at! ✤ Fics Like Escapade

you give me feelings that i adore by @alwaysxlarrie

Harry doesn’t mean to fall in love with Louis’ scent when they first meet after the Alpha joins Harry's study group, but after Harry leaves a sweater behind by accident and it comes back smelling like Louis, he can’t really help it. Nor can he really help continuing to leave his things behind in hopes that Louis will take them home and drench them in his wonderful, mouth-watering scent. He just has to hope Louis will play along.

Or, 5 times Louis scents Harry's things and the 1 time Harry returns the gesture.

let me make a thing of cream and stars by @missandrogyny

It doesn't explain why he's lying on the floor, with Harry Styles, of all people, planking on top of him.

As in, seventeenth most influential person in London, pop-star-turned-rock-star Harry Styles. The same Harry Styles who has had countless model girlfriends, left, right and centre. Also the same Harry Styles who has been the subject of Louis' wet dreams since he was about eighteen.

(Or: Louis is a Radio 1 DJ and Harry is a pop-star he interviews.)

Fall At My Door by @kingsofeverything

A-list actor Harry Styles and award-winning musician Louis Tomlinson have an acquaintances-with-benefits relationship, so whenever their busy professional lives happen to land them in the same city, they meet up. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement.

And that’s all it is. Until it isn’t.

Felt Nothing Like Home by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

The Bon Appétit YouTube channel has become an unexpected success partly due to the newest series developed by classically trained pastry chef Harry Styles who is intent on making the art of baking accessible to the masses. He and his best friend Louis Tomlinson have been with the magazine for years and they’re unused to the level of online fame they’ve suddenly achieved.

It’s easy for Harry to brush it off and ignore it (despite the teasing they get around the test kitchen) because Louis is happily married and has been for years—since just before they met for the first time. Or, it was easy to brush it off, but at the beginning of the summer, just as they’re leading up to the stress of planning the annual holiday issue, Louis and his husband decide to file for divorce.

[meanbossart]

Ask Compilation: Advice, influences and Misc.

Apologies for taking so long on some of these, admittedly I'm much more likely to entirely forget about asks that are about me and my interests 💃 Thank you for all the questions regardless! And thank you specially to everyone who just drops nice messages into my inbox out of kindness.

I'm brazillian and a native portuguese speaker!

I'll probably return to twitter eventually, but a) I hate that place and b) It didn't make much sense to me to turn it into a BG3 account out of the blue. I am considering making an Instagram or a new twitter just to have more places where people can follow in case they don't care for tumblr, but it's just been a very busy year so far and so that's kind of low on the list of priorities. If I ever do that I'll be sure to announce it here. Have a nice day yourself!

Sorry to hear that! I've gotten a few messages before about this issue, and the problem is that since I am myself not from the US, my options are also limited :( a lot of patreon alternatives don't work for me because they either don't go through paypal, take insane currency conversion fees, or just straight up block me from signing up.

Speak for yourself, I just assume everyone I speak to online has committed some sort of atrocious crime until proven otherwise. Except for me - of course. I have never done anything bad in my life.

I still have a lot to learn! But I will basically use whatever works for me at the moment, as well as make a sincere effort to learn about musculature and anatomy so I can understand those components and how they move, instead of only knowing what they look like when still - that's how you get better at drawing from memory. Volume mostly comes from coloring and understanding light, which is it's own beast but can very much be learned from similar reference materials and observing it IRL!

My favorite places to get reference are medical diagrams, weird pictures I take of myself, 3D software (often Virt-a-mate) and questionably phrased image google searches.

My favorite artists are Jason Shawn Alexander and Sean Murphy, but I'm not sure how much of it reflects in my art nowadays! I generally seek to pick up techniques from artists rather than to emulate style.

Honestly I love that you guys generally do the thing he would hate the most: take him very non-seriously LOL

I've been in a real Chelsea Wolfe and Amyl And The Sniffers kick lately! But usually you'll also find me listening to stuff like Boy Harsher, Swans, FWF, JK Flesh Lingua Ignota, Nick Cave, David Bowie, and so on. Music for the weird gays, basically.

I went insane and wrote a 23-chapter-long-and-still-ongoing fic in like four months. But also - I'm not that good, I'm just shamelessly pretentious LOL

Hm. That's a good question, but I'm not really sure. Sincerely not trying to be a edgier-than-thou here (in fact, this has made me a little self conscious at one time or another) but a lot of art that I don't mean to be horror-y in nature at all has been associated with the genre. So perhaps I don't know what I'm doing either, LOL.

I think just leaning on making things look slightly "wrong" or "ugly" on purpose is the way, but I also find that if you just seek to depict people as they are instead of idealized versions of themselves, you will arrive at that either way.

Thank you for reading! Honestly, I'm guilty of having not read much at all since I was in my late teens, and the style I'm employing for ANE is very different from the things I would call "influential" for me, or even that I used to enjoy reading at all before. I read a lot of Chuck Palahniuk as a youth (and, no slight to people who do like him still, but nowadays I'm not sure why I ever did. His stories don't speak to me at all anymore) as well a lot of weird experimental lit that I didn't even care to remember the name of. My last book stint from one or two years ago was composed solely of historical and medical literature, and last year I got really into Cormac Mcarthy thanks to the internet.

So, all in all, I'm absolutely all over the place LOL if you put a gun to my head and told me to list my favorite books, I'd say The Indifferent Stars Above and Blood Meridian.

(Consider the reading portion of the question to have been answered above) I really really liked Beau is Afraid and think it's a really great "horror" movie. Sue me.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Raven Crowley Platinum Jacket Doodles + Interview

It's that time of year again! Cat and bird double birthday, wahoo :v

First comes the vignettes (this time featuring Silver~), then at the end I’ll go over the details of Miss Raven’s Platinum Jacket design. I’ll also go into some of my thoughts when picking the paintings. And once again, I was too lazy to do digital artwork for this—

Let’s be off to the Land of Dawning’s National Museum of Art now!!

Happy Birthday 100th Anniversary!

Raven: Waaah~ This is amazing! So many works of art, each piece entrenched in rich history and lore… There’s much to spark inspiration here. It’s a writer’s dream come true!

Raven: Let’s see the next one is… Oof!

*Dull thud sfx*

Raven: ?!

???: Zzzz… ?!

Raven: Wh-Who erected this brick wall in the middle of the museum?!

???: Hm? You’re…

Raven: Eh, i-it’s Silver-senpai?

Raven: I apologize for bumping into you. I hadn’t realized you were also around to glimpse this part of the exhibit.

Silver: It’s fine. I apologize as well for obscuring your path. I should have been more vigilant of my surroundings. Instead, I dozed off while standing up.

Raven: What is it that you were looking at before you lost yourself? I was meaning to get a glimpse of it.

Raven, smiling: It’s the famous hornbill from Sunset Savanna!

Silver: You’re familiar with him?

Raven: Of course I am. I’ve looked up to him for a long time. He’s an exemplary avian!

Raven: He served as an advisor, chamberlain, and even chaperone to the royal family, including the King of Beasts himself. There were several attempts to usurp the throne, and it is said that the hornbill remained dedicated to the King of Beasts through each of those fierce struggles. Quite the resume on him.

Silver: Yes, he is very influential and accomplished. Malleus-sama has an entourage of nobles in the capital city who serve a similar role as the hornbill.

Raven: Insider knowledge on the ins and outs of court life… I envy you. I’d love to be a fly on the wall and absorb all that intrigue.

Silver: Actually, I’ve never actually been in that that environment myself.

Raven: You haven’t? That’s a surprise. I’d imagine you would have to be physically by your liege to protect him.

Silver: I’ve spoken at length with my father about this, but he is stubborn. He says the capital city is no place for me.

Silver: “It will take your light, chew it well, and swallow it up.” He never explained more than that.

Raven: Hehe, it sounds like your father really cares about you.

Silver: He does. I just wish he would let me do more for Malleus-sama and for him.

Raven, more serious: I understand your frustration. When you feel like you’re ready for more, but the world denies you of it… It leaves a tight feeling in your chest.

Silver: Like shortness of breath when you’re in an intense workout?

Raven: Er, sure. Let’s go with that.

Raven: There’s also a kernel of truth to what your father said. The world of bureaucracy and politics isn’t for everyone, even if one is only present as an observer.

Raven: Lies, flattery, personal gain, manipulation, deals, backstabbing and double crossing. Such things are commonplace when policy and governance are involved—at least, that’s what I gather from my writing research.

Raven: It can be so oppressive and isolating. One has to steel their wills for these things. It must have been difficult to do, even for the hornbill.

Raven: I think your father wanted to protect your eyes from clouding over from the darkness of that world. He probably still does.

Silver: !!

Raven: Wanting to protect the people you hold dear is a natural instinct, just as wanting to grow up fast and fill in that role as the protector is.

Raven: One day, you’ll be ready to leave the nest and be a part of that world. And when you are, your father will see you off with a smile and tears in his eyes.

Silver: … Yes, one day.

Silver, closing his eyes: …

Silver, opening them: Raven, I’m sure your guardian, the headmaster, feels the same way about you.

Raven, to herself: (Is this Silver-senpai’s way of returning the advice…?)

Raven, to herself: (Thinking about it though, Uncle is more of the type to chuck someone out of the pan and into the fire than to keep them from the stove altogether. Ah, but Silver-senpai is staring at me with such hopeful, expectant eyes. I-It’s fine to play a little into it, surely?)

Raven: A-Ahahaha… Yup, that sounds like Uncle alright…

Raven, to herself: (LIKE HELL IT IS!!)

Silver: You refer to him as “Uncle”, so is the headmaster related to your parents?

Raven: Oh, no. We are not related by blood. “Uncle” is a term of endearment. It would be more accurate to say that he is my guardian, not father or uncle. Still, I recognize him as a father all the same.

Silver: I see. I apologize for my misunderstanding. So you are also adopted…

Silver, smiling: It sounds like we’re kindred spirits.

Raven: Eh, are we…?

Raven, to herself: (WE’RE NOTHING ALIKE THOUGH?!)

Silver: Yes. I also know you are a kind and hardworking person, just like the headmaster.

Raven: (How is it that the longer he talks, the more strays from the truth?!)

Silver: So I think… one day, you’ll be just as revered as the hornbill advisor you look up to, or the advisors in Briar Valley’s court. I believe in you, so please believe in yourself.

Raven: O-Of course I will.

Raven: (How can I say I don’t believe you when you’re looking at me like a baby deer?!)

Raven: I’ve never seen creatures like this before. They’re depicted with the Lord of the Underworld, so I assume they must be his servants.

Silver. They are his retainers.

Raven: Oh, that makes sense. You put two and two together so fast. I guess it must be that retainers recognize other retainers.

Raven: I had trouble coming to that conclusion. When I think of a retainer, a very different image comes to mind.

Raven: Someone tall, muscular, and intimidating! With a mean glare! One look at them kicks your body into fight or flight mode! … Something like that.

Raven: In other words… JUST LIKE SEBEK-SAN!

Silver: …? Is Sebek like that? I know he can look scary, but really he’s a good person.

Silver: But in any case, he is also good at what he does.

Silver: There are other kinds of security personnel too. Ones that serve more covert roles.

Raven, eyes sparkling: Like spies and assassins?! They specialize in sneaking around and collecting information or getting kills in quietly.

Silver: Those are some. You’re surprisingly knowledgeable on this matter.

Raven: I-It’s something I’m interested in. Intelligence and the element of surprise, if wielded correctly, can be their own weapon.

Raven: Hmm… Unfortunately, these two do not strike me as spies or assassins either. They look more like children’s mascots—but I know that looks can be deceiving.

Silver: You’d be right. They say the Lord of the Underworld’s retainers had the ability to change their forms at will. They used that power to make quick work of those who posed threats to his rule.

Raven: Change their forms at will! Such a thing would be highly regulated these days.

Raven: For fair reason, I suppose. It would be easy for anyone to deceive and to commit fraud if they could borrow others’ faces on a whim.

Silver: Do you really think people do that, just going around pretending to be someone else and spreading lies?

Silver: The Lord of the Underworld’s retainers only ever used that power to enact justice and to right wrongs.

Raven, to herself: (S-So pure!!)

Raven: Wh-Who knows? That magic has also been used to do a lot of good.

Raven: Merpeople are able to vacation, work, and study on land thanks to the transformation potions the government distributes. It’s a wonderful system.

Raven: And Jack-san has a unique magic that lets him transform into a wolf. He used it to stop a scuffle at shortly before the interdorm tournament.

Raven: So I think it depends a lot on individual intention.

Silver: I remember that. I appreciate his help with that.

Silver: Raven, you can shapeshift into an animal too, can't you?

Raven: Well, yes. I was originally a real raven, after all. Right now I am a "human" girl though.

Silver: Do you ever have times when you return to your original form?

Raven: I don't do it often. I've found it's not as suitable for my current environment at school.

Raven, sighing: Sadly, it happens involuntarily when I'm experiencing periods of high stress. It becomes bothersome at times.

Silver: That sounds difficult.

Raven: You wouldn’t believe!! S-Some of the students are quite crude and make a game of provoking me and seeing who can make me turn the fastest.

Raven: And then when I turn around and scold them for their poor attitudes, they mock me and tell me to ‘fly away and go cry to uncle’!

Raven, angry: What nerve!! I swear to the Seven, I can’t have a moment’s rest around here!

Raven, under her breath: I may just peck at them one of these days to punish them for their behavior…!

Silver: That’s not nice of them.

Silver: If you ever shift and you need help, come to me. I can speak with the students who were rude to you. You can also rest at Diasomnia until you feel better. I’ll do whatever I can to keep you safe.

Raven, panicked: You’ll do WHAT?!

Silver: …? Keep you safe, you mean?

Raven: D-Do you even realize what you’re saying, Silver-senpai?! (H-He’s sounding like a knight directly lifted from a fairy tale!!)

Silver: Don’t worry. I know many wild birds on campus. I can ask them for advice on how to best care for a raven.

Raven: S-Stop talking! Just please STOP TALKING!!

Silver: There is another bird here.

Raven: This one is the parrot belonging to the Sorcerer of the Sands. It's a scarlet macaw, a bird that is skilled in the art of imitating human speech. A highly intelligent being worthy of being the familiar to one of the Great Seven!

Silver: I didn’t know there were so many kinds of birds. Each of them so different than the last.

Raven: The variety among birds is also seen in humans, beastmen, merpeople, and fae. I was very surprised by the revelation when I first came to Night Raven College.

Raven: Truly, this is a place that brings together people from all walks of life. I don’t regret coming here. There’s something new and interesting to see every day.

Raven: … For better or for worse.

Silver: What do you mean?

Raven: When a flock grows, aggression happens. It’s true of both birds and of us.

Raven: There doesn’t seem to be a day that passes where a fight doesn’t break out or someone has to step in to diffuse rising tensions.

Raven: One bird—one person—is manageable. 800? Not so much.

Silver, thoughtfully: I wonder what it would take to help everyone get along better. What do birds do to repair relations after a fight?

Raven: They don’t.

Silver: … They don’t?

Raven: They keep fighting until one gives up and leaves the other alone. Then the victor claims whatever it was they were fighting for—food, nests, territory, a mate.

Raven: But obviously, that doesn’t work for us. The school would never sponsor battles outside of what is necessary for classes.

Silver: That’s…

Silver: … a great idea!

Raven: It is?!?!

Silver: There’s no better way to bond than through training and trading blows. Sebek and I have formed a strong friendship thanks to our own experiences.

Raven: Er, I’m glad that worked for you and Sebek-san but don’t know if that’s such a good idea for everyone to follow…!!

Silver: We can talk to Vargas-sensei about implementing a new P.E. event with a focus on combat. Maybe it could be tournament style with lots of activities. Sprinting, biking, swimming, jousting—

Raven: JOUSTING? In this day and age?!

Silver: Or make it a big game like Beans Day. Would it work better as a new course? That way, it’s longer. Even a club. A Fight Club.

Raven, looking tired: (I forgot how big of a musclehead Silver-senpai is!!)

Raven: How did you even come to this conclusion based on birds fighting for limited resources in the wild…

Raven: Your mind works in mysterious ways.

[Interlude]

Silver: Please consider my proposal. I think it would be a golden opportunity to unite everyone.

Raven: Sure, I’ll pass along the idea to the headmaster… (No way, not happening!!)

[…]

Raven: In any case, I’m off to see the rest of the exhibit. I’ll see you later.

Silver: Yes, see you then. Take care.

*Walking sfx*

Raven: Let’s see what else the museum has to offer 🎵

Raven: …!

Raven: This is…

Raven: Oh, how interesting. This painting is stylized to resemble a stained glass window.

Raven: According to a placard, this is meant to depict the moment when a beggar woman revealed herself to be the almighty Enchantress. Seeing that there was no love in a selfish prince’s heart, she cursed him to become a beast most frightening.

Raven: An enchantress and a curse, hmm?

Raven: …

Raven, turning away from the painting and leaning against it: … Hah.

Raven: I hope he eventually made peace and found his happily ever after.

***BONUS***

More about her Platinum Jacket design + author’s notes on writing the vignettes!

Here is a more detailed look at Raven’s design and full body pose for the initial Platinum Jacket artwork! Her top and shoes are basically the same as any other student's Platinum Jacket; the devil is in the details!

Starting with her hat, it's inspired by a combination of elements from Minnie Mouse. The general shape is borrowed from an old design of Minnie, which features a daisy sticking out of it. Including a flower might have looked out of place here, so I substituted tails with pearl-like beading. The big bow is inspired by a modern design. You'll also notice that Miss Raven's skirt sort of flares out like Minnie's. I figured if there was any design to pull inspiration from Minnie, it should be the one celebrating Disney's centennial.

ashdbudbpfqb I'll be honest, I hate the design of the neckties they went with so I changed Raven's to a cravat. Her sash is a style unique to her and it closely resembles the look of the sashes from the Birthday Boy series of cards. It's secured at her waist by another big bow.

Instead of pants, Miss Raven has some greyish stockings. She tends to prefer skirts and dresses to pants since she's used to her legs being "bare" in her old life as a bird. I think the most unique part of this look is her skirt. In addition to having the shape resemble Minnie's, the skirt is also supposed to resemble a cake with frosting "drapes". The dots along the skirt are meant to look like sugar pearls. You know, because you'd usually have cake for a celebration!

Now let's talk about the Disney images I picked for the card + vignettes www

I chose Silver to be the "interviewer" this year. (It may or may not be because of my recent fondness for the guy/j) Their dynamic is ironic because usually Miss Raven is the "good" person (9 times out of 10 she is dealing with someone way "worse" than her)... but in the presence of the shining beacon that is Silver, she suddenly seems like the snarky and sarcastic one by comparison. They're such a strange mix of grounded and yet also sort of spaced out. I feel like they're totally missing what the other person is saying every other exchange.

At first, I had no idea what to really include for Raven's initial card art frames. I was just going to leave them empty so you could project whatever you wanted onto them, but ultimately I slapped Diablo and the Evil Queen's bird onto there (because I found funny images) and called it a day. Diablo looks like he's about to steal some cupcakes, and the Evil Queen's raven/crow looks hilariously terrified of an apple.

For the vignettes, I chose two bird characters (Iago and Zazu) because I felt Raven could have some insight on them. Pain and Panic were also included because I felt like they needed more attention 🤣 Besides, I can't make ALL of the paintings Just Birds... I tried to stick with movies featuring the Great Seven, but decided to be unconventional for the Groovy artwork. The painting you see there is, in fact, from the opening to Beauty and the Beast. I thought it was very fitting for Miss Raven to see it, given her own background. Like the light trio, she has a unique expression as opposed to the rest of the cast (who look devious in their Groovies). Her look is more resigned and a little bit sad. Sketching her Groovy made me really appreciate just how much work must have gone into each of the official Platinum Jackey Groovies... Those angles and perspectives are so complicated!!

Anyways~ Another year, another Miss Raven birthday done and over with...! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

[city-of-ladies]

Japan's third empress regnant, Empress Jitō (645-703) was a powerful and effective ruler. Shrewd, bold and clever, she walked in the footsteps of empresses Suiko and Saimei and prevailed against all odds.

A troubled youth 

Jitō was the daughter of Prince Naka no Ōe, the son of empress regnant Saimei. The year she was born, her father killed a minister in front of his mother, leading to her abdication.

Jitō’s maternal grandfather committed suicide three years later, having been wrongly accused of plotting against Prince Naka no Ōe. Jitō’s mother, Ochi, died of grief. Jitō was thus placed in her grandmother's care and raised by the former empress.

At age 12, she was married to her paternal uncle, Prince Ōama, who was 27. Jitō was a reserved person with a brilliant intelligence and much liked by the court. She was curious, open-minded and studied Chinese literature. The death of her grandmother in 661 pained her greatly. In 662, Jitō gave birth to her only child: prince Kusakabe. Her father then ascended took the throne as Emperor Tenji in 667.

Succession struggle

The question of Emperor Tenji’s succession soon arose. The sovereign favored Jitō’s half-brother, Prince Ōtomo, but Prince Ōama had his own ambitions. He and Jitō left the court, waiting for an opportunity to strike. 

Ōtomo indeed succeeded Tenji, but Ōama revolted against him soon after with Jitō's support. When they arrived at Ise province, she dressed in male clothes and personally addressed the troops. She also worked on tactical plans. As Ōama left to leave an offensive in Ōmi province, Jitō took command of the troops stationed at Ise. She had indeed volunteered to defend the shrine dedicated to the sun Goddess, Amaterasu.

Their joint efforts led to their success. Ōama ascended the throne in 673 as emperor Tenmu, with Jitō becoming his co-ruler.

The radiant empress

Jitō was very influential in court matters. This was reflected in the choice of Tenmu's heir. He could have chosen his son by another woman, Prince Ōtsu, as his heir, but chose Jitō’s son, Prince Kusakabe, instead.

As Tenmu died in 686, Jitō took the matter in hand. She declared Ōtsu guilty of treason and forced him to commit suicide. She then organized grandiose funerals for her husband and wrote poems expressing her grief. 

Oh, the autumn foliage

Of the hill of Kamioka!

My good Lord and Sovereign

Would see it in the evening

And ask of it in the morning.

On that very hill from afar

I gaze, wondering

If he sees it to-day,

Or asks of it to-morrow.

Sadness I feel at eve,

And heart-rending grief at morn—

The sleeves of my coarse-cloth robe

Are never for a moment dry. 

Her son died in 689. Since her grandson was too young to rule, Jitō became empress regnant. 

She reformed the country, establishing a strong central power and surrounded herself with capable ministers. In 689, she enacted a mandatory code for all local governors. In 690, she launched a population census.

She reformed the army, improving the recruitment conditions and the troops' training. A protector of the arts, she also actively participated in the propagation of Buddhism. Poetry became more refined during her reign. One of her poems was later included in the popular Hyakunin Isshu anthology:

The spring has passed

And the summer come again

For the silk-white robes

So they say, are spread to dry

On Mount Kaguyama 

Jitō made her predecessors' objective of replacing the tribal system with a strong central power a reality. Her rule was synonymous with a degree of stability that neither her father nor husband were able to reach. She can be regarded as one of the true founders of Japan’s imperial monarchy. The empress was also fond of travels. In 692, she undertook a trip symbolic trip to Ise province, strengthening her authority and gaining the support of the local people.

The empress indeed took advantage of the Shinto rituals and the image of the sun Goddess to reinforce her legitimacy and used the links between the deity and the imperial family. Such was her prestige that Kakinomoto no Hitomaro, one of the greatest poets of his time, compared her to a goddess.

The retired empress

Jitō’s grandson, Monmu (r. 697-707) was ready to take the throne. She stepped back as Dajō Tennō (or “retired emperor”), becoming the first sovereign in Japanese history to assume this title. The power was in reality still in her hands. The Taihō Code was promulgated in 701, reforming governmental administration as well as administrative and penal law. This was only made possible by the reforms enacted during her reign.

In 702, she went through another tour of inspection of the eastern provinces and bestowed gifts and court ranks on the local officials and leading farmers. Jitō died in the first month 703 and her ashes were interred in her husband's tomb.

Here's is the link to my Ko-Fi if you like what I do! Your support would be greatly appreciated.

Further reading: 

Aoki Michiko Y., "Jitō Tennō, the female sovereign",in: Mulhern Chieko Irie (ed.), Heroic with grace legendary women of Japan

Souyri Pierre-François, Nouvelle histoire du japon

[puzzled-pegasus]

Christina Posabule thoughts (tiny little female christ is eating my brain today/pos)

This is mostly me working out some parallels between her and Orel's families but there's some cute hcs for her and Orel in here too :3

Her mom Poppit is influential to her as a parallel to the way that Clay affects Orel. Poppit is selfish, drunk, bitter, and very two-faced parent just like Clay is, who just like him, confidently gives awful advice and takes advantage of Christina's trusting nature.

Art is less involved with Christina and loses interest in conversation with her as soon as anything remotely associated with femininity comes up and he's just like ew gross go talk to your mom. the most positive attention he gives her is about her appearance and how cute or pretty she looks. He likes to constantly condescendingly tell her that any given thing she's interested or asking advice about in the moment is for boys or "a little girl like you doesn't need to worry about that :)" and it drives Christina nuts so she goes and talks to her mom anyway

Similarly to Clay and Orel, Poppit decided to take Christina on a picnic in the woods and they get lost, and Christina gets permanently injured due to her mother's carelessness, though I haven't yet figured out how. (Man, I just realized that if that happened after the events of Nature and Orel found out, he would probably be out for Poppit's BLOOD on behalf of his puppy crush sweetheart)

Idk whose post I read but I'll add the credit in later, but I read earlier the idea that as a parallel to Orel's masochism episode Christina has an arc where she turns sadist and I thought that was fuckin hilarious so yeah I need that to be a thing. I wonder what would set that off though. Maybe instead of taking to heart the idea that suffering is good for her, she might be like "wait friends I don't want you to go to hell for being happy" and beats them up...or smth i dont know. And also as parallel to Orel's dreams of God in that episode she could be like. Beating the shiz out of Satan. Lol. anyway,

I have this feeling that she and Orel have like the sappiest pet names for each other but like you cant even be mad about it cause they're so sincere lol. like they meet up for a date and Orel's casually like "there's my bright little daisy" and Christina is like "oh hello my sweet pudding pie" and then they hold hands and walk to the park or whatever tf

This is a smaller hc but if you remember that moment before the Puppingtons found out the Posabules were Catholic when Clay noticed Orel making 😍 eyes at Christina and he asked Orel if he thinks she was cute,,, I think it would be nice if Poppit and Christina were doing the same thing at that moment like Poppit was like "oh he's a doll isn't he?" And Christina's like "yes, ma'am, and so polite too!" and Poppit says something cheeky about how Christina better not start bringing boys around Art because he'll shoot them or whatever (you know like how dads threaten their daughters' boyfriends for no reason because of weird possession issues) and then they giggle together

Since Orel's been shot Christina worries over him a lot and especially in the first few months of their relationship she kept asking him how much it hurt and and even into adulthood she checks with him every day to make sure he's not exerting himself too much

Christina had a cat briefly and her parents killed it because they thought it was bad luck or smth

instead of "meet me in my study" Poppit's the more involved parent when it comes to discipline so she's just like "go see your father" cus he's the one with the belt

[kirammanswifey]

《The Heart That Couldn't Stay》

Mel Medarda

writer's note: i can only say that i love sad endings. so anyways, this little (pretty long) scenarios comes from my arcane imagines, i'll let the link down there for anyone is interested, also i'll be posting a story for each one of those scenarios for this week, tomorrow it's jayce's turn ;)

link:

warnings: smut, fingering, angst, kinda fluff, sad ending, mel's such a love bird, reader can be a little mean but she has her reasons.

The Greek sky burned with the colors of sunset, a palette that seemed plucked straight from an Impressionist painting. The spiritual retreat Mel had chosen was nestled between mountains and the Aegean Sea, a sanctuary designed to unburden the mind. Yet, in hers, only chaos reigned. Her work as an international consultant had been relentlessly demanding, draining her creative energy for strategy and art alike. Inspiration, the elusive muse she sought, had vanished entirely.

That evening, a local collector had organized a dinner at his villa—an event brimming with artists and influential figures in the art world. Mel attended more out of obligation than genuine interest. She wandered through the private collection, examining sculptures with a detached gaze, her wine glass resting lightly in her hand. Everything around her felt hollow, devoid of meaning, until she heard a voice behind her—clear, melodic, and disarmingly self-assured.

"Did you know this sculptor worked blindfolded? He believed his hands understood form better than his eyes."

Startled, Mel turned. There you were. For a moment, she was at a loss for words. She had always considered herself striking, a vision of exotic elegance, but your beauty defied comparison. It was surreal, almost otherworldly. Perhaps it was the way your eyes shimmered as if they'd stolen the light of distant stars or how your smile radiated an effortless confidence that drew others in. Whatever it was, you were magnetic, a living paradox that demanded attention.

You wore a sheer white dress that contrasted beautifully with your skin, revealing more than it concealed, yet you seemed unbothered—on the contrary, you reveled in the freedom it afforded.

"That sounds... contradictory," Mel responded, intrigued, though she fought to keep her gaze from lingering on the tantalizing curve of your barely covered form.

"Isn’t all art a contradiction?" you replied with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

For the first time in days, Mel felt her mind stir from its slumber. "You seem well-versed in contradictions."

"Perhaps because I am one," you said with a playful tilt of your head, extending your hand toward her. "Call me Zephyr."

Mel took your hand, noting the silky softness of your skin. "Zephyr? I assume that’s not your real name." Her elegant brow arched inquisitively as she studied you. It was as though you held all the secrets of the cosmos, and she longed to unravel them.

You let out a soft laugh, a sound as entrancing as a siren’s song. "It isn’t, but I prefer it. It suits me better."

Mel’s curiosity sharpened. She needed to know more, to hear every syllable that fell from your captivating lips. "Why Zephyr?"

"Because it’s beautiful," you said simply. "Like a gentle breeze—it doesn’t disrupt or intrude, only graces you with its presence. And as quickly as it comes, it’s gone." You gestured with your hand, mimicking the delicate path of the wind, even blowing softly as if to give life to your words.

Mel smiled, entertained by your theatrics. She studied you intently, capturing every nuance of your expression. She could tell she wasn’t the first to be enchanted by your enigmatic charm. And yet, she found herself wanting to be the one exception—the one to see beyond your veil of mystery.

"Zephyr, then," Mel murmured, setting her wine glass on a nearby table. "Do you always make it a habit to bewilder strangers in galleries?" There was a playful edge to her tone, a subtle challenge laced with flirtation.

"Only those who seem to need it," you replied, circling her with deliberate grace, your gaze never leaving hers.

"And what makes you think I’m in need?" Mel hated to admit it, but she was spellbound. Each word you spoke felt more fascinating than the last. For someone as difficult to impress as Mel Medarda, this was no small feat.

You met her gaze with an intensity that seemed to pierce her flawless exterior. "Because you’re here, surrounded by art, but not feeling it. It’s as if you’re searching for something… yet you don’t know what it is." Your knack for reading people was uncanny, a skill you wielded like an artist’s brush to paint reactions as vivid as your observations.

Mel was momentarily speechless. Rarely did anyone manage to see through her polished façade. "Perhaps you’re right. But that doesn’t explain why you’re here."

"I’m a model," you said casually. "I work with painters, sculptors… I enjoy being part of their creations. And I like meeting intriguing people." Your voice carried an honesty that made it impossible to doubt you. Art wasn’t just a part of your life—it was the lens through which you viewed the world.

"Does that mean you find me intriguing?" Mel’s amusement was evident, but so was the faint undercurrent of seduction in her voice.

You leaned in closer, your breath ghosting against her ear, deliberate and tantalizing. "I’m giving you the chance to prove it."

The conversation flowed effortlessly as you explored the villa together. Mel couldn’t remember the last time she’d spoken with someone like this. The way you spoke about art and life was intoxicating—each idea fresh, bold, and delivered with a passion that reignited something dormant within her.

When the dinner concluded, you invited her for a walk through the gardens. Under the starlit sky, Mel realized the Greek breeze bore a whisper of your essence: gentle yet unforgettable.

"What do you do when you’re not modeling for artists?" Mel asked as they strolled past ancient olive trees.

"I live," you said simply, as though it were the easiest thing in the world. "I don’t make plans or tie myself down. I savor whatever comes my way. And you?"

"I live to work," Mel confessed with a hint of irony.

You stopped and turned to face her, your gaze filled with quiet compassion. "How tragic. I hope that changes one day."

Something shifted inside Mel at that moment, a spark she hadn’t felt in years. It wasn’t just attraction—it was curiosity, inspiration. She wanted to know more about you, the enigma who seemed to defy all her carefully constructed rules.

When you finally said goodbye, you offered her one last, enigmatic smile before vanishing into the night.

Mel remained rooted to the spot, the breeze playing with her hair. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, her mind was alive with possibilities, her thoughts consumed by the living mystery that you were.

The days following your encounter at the villa became a blend of shared moments between Mel and you. It was as if the gentle breeze you had spoken of that night had decided to linger, wrapping both of you in an air of discovery and unspoken wishes. The connection between you was subtle, like an invisible thread that neither of you could ignore, yet neither dared to name.

You found yourself taking her to places even the locals didn’t know existed. First, a hidden beach nestled between cliffs, where the water was so clear that you could see every pebble resting on the seabed. As you walked along the shore, the ocean breeze played with your hair, and Mel watched you as though you were part of the landscape, as if you belonged to that place as much as the sand and waves.

"How did you find this spot?" Mel finally asked, breaking the silence that had reigned for several minutes.

"It’s easier to find what others overlook when you’re not searching for anything," you replied with a smile that she was beginning to recognize as your signature—an enigmatic gesture that spoke volumes while revealing nothing at all.

Mel laughed softly. "You’re impossible, you know that?"

"I do," you said, winking before stepping closer to the water, letting the waves kiss your feet.

Another day, you took her to an art studio tucked away in a narrow city alley. The walls were covered in paintings, some completed, others barely begun. Sculptures and scattered tools filled the space, and the air smelled of paint and freshly carved wood.

"Is this place yours?" Mel asked, her gaze sweeping across the room.

"It belongs to a friend," you explained. "He lets me come here when I need to remember that chaos can also be beautiful."

Mel watched as you moved through the canvases, brushing your fingertips lightly over a few of them, as though you were reading them rather than touching them. You stopped in front of an unfinished painting and gestured toward it with your chin.

"What do you see?" you asked.

Mel squinted, trying to decipher the shapes and colors. "It’s hard to say... It looks like a landscape, but there’s something more abstract about it. As if the artist is searching for something they haven’t found yet."

"Exactly," you said, turning to face her. "Sometimes art is just that—a search with no end."

It was then, as she observed you surrounded by art and mystery, that Mel said it.

"I want you to be my muse."

You turned to her, not so much surprised as flattered. "Your muse?"

Mel nodded, crossing her arms as she tried to maintain a serious expression. "I have a painting I can’t finish. I’ve tried everything, but... I feel like something’s missing. And I think that something is you."

Your enigmatic smile appeared once more, though your eyes held a glimmer of amusement. "Are you sure? Being your muse comes with risks."

"What risks?" Mel asked, raising an eyebrow—a gesture you had noticed she often made when nervous.

You stepped closer to her, the space between you diminishing, and whispered, "That you might fall in love with me. Promise me you won’t fall in love with me." Your expression was tinged with sadness; you didn’t want Mel to make the same mistake others had. You liked her too much for that.

Mel’s laughter filled the studio, but you noticed the faint blush creeping across her cheeks. "I think I can handle it," she finally said, though you weren’t entirely convinced.

The first painting session took place the following day in Mel’s studio, where she had set up a large canvas in the center of the room. The golden hues of the setting sun filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow that made your skin shimmer as though you were made of light.

You sat gracefully on a stool, crossing your legs, while Mel prepared her brushes and paints. You watched her in silence, captivated by the intensity of her focus.

"Ready?" she asked, glancing up at you.

"I was born ready," you replied with a smile that seemed to challenge her.

As Mel began to paint, the tension in the room became palpable. Her eyes flicked between the canvas and you, as though each brushstroke was a confession. For your part, you remained still, though inside you could feel the energy building between you, like an electric current threatening to spark.

"I can’t figure you out," Mel murmured suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Why would you want to?" you asked reflexively, though you already knew the answer. You were used to this—people becoming obsessed with the idea of unraveling you, of discovering why you were the way you were, instead of simply accepting you as you were. But no, humans were selfish; they always wanted more.

"Because I feel like there are so many layers to you... and I want to see them all," Mel said, speaking as though she were discovering a new world, an uncharted planet yet to be named by scientists.

You allowed yourself a soft laugh, though there was a hint of melancholy in it. "Perhaps some things are more beautiful when they remain hidden."

Hours later, just as Mel was about to add the finishing touches, the rain began. The storm arrived abruptly, with heavy drops pelting the windows and wind howling to break in.

"We should stop," Mel said, but you were already on your feet.

You stepped outside without a word, letting the rain soak your dress and hair. Instead of seeking shelter, you began to dance, spinning with your arms outstretched, as though celebrating the storm’s arrival.

Mel watched you from the doorway, utterly captivated. She had never seen anything so beautiful, so pure. Finally, she couldn’t resist and stepped out after you, ignoring the rain drenching her clothes.

When she reached you, you stopped and looked her directly in the eyes. The starry sky seemed to reflect in your gaze, and Mel felt everything else fade away.

Without thinking, you closed the space between you and kissed her. It was a slow, deep kiss, filled with every unsaid word and every promise yet to be made. Promises that would never be kept.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, but neither the rain nor the cold seemed to matter.

"Come with me," Mel said, taking your hand.

You followed her inside, the wooden floorboards creaking softly beneath your soaked shoes. Rainwater drips from your hair, tracing rivulets down the curve of your neck and between the valley of your breasts, visible through the drenched fabric of your black dress. The cool air pebbles your nipples, making them strain against the damp material.

Mel closes the door behind you, the click echoing in the tranquil space. Shadows dance across the whitewashed walls, cast by the flickering candlelight illuminating an array of paintings - vibrant splashes of color amidst the neutral tones. The scent of rain mingles with the earthy aroma of oil paints and turpentine.

"You have no idea how much I've been waiting for this moment," Mel murmurs, her voice low and sultry. She reaches out, trailing a finger along your jawline, tilting your chin up gently. Her touch is cool from the rain, sending shivers down your spine. You laughed softly, enjoying the moment. Her desperation for you was entertaining.

You lean into her hand, your own coming up to cover hers. Your fingers intertwine, thumbs brushing against each other in a intimate caress. Mel's skin is soft, yet calloused from hours spent holding a paintbrush. You bring her hand to your lips, pressing a kiss to her palm, feeling her pulse flutter beneath your touch.

"I've been waiting for this too, Mel,"

Mel's breath hitches, her chest rising and falling more rapidly. She takes another step closer, until your bodies are a mere whisper apart. You can feel the heat radiating off her, a stark contrast to the chill of the rain. Her eyes never leave yours as she reaches for the hem of your dress, slowly, teasingly, peeling the drenched fabric up and over your head.

Cool air kisses your newly exposed skin, making your nipples tighten further. Mel's gaze drops to your chest, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. She leans in, her breath ghosting over the swell of your breasts. Your heart pounds, anticipation coiling in your belly.

You help her shrug out of her own shirt, tossing it carelessly to the floor. Beneath, she wears a lacy bra and a pair of matching panties, both a shade darker than the candlelit room. The damp fabric clings to her curves, hinting at the supple flesh beneath. You reach out, tracing the lace along her collarbone, feeling the heat of her skin through the delicate material.

Mel shivers at your touch, her nipples visibly hardening beneath the flimsy lace. She takes your hand, guiding it lower, over the swell of her breasts, down her taut stomach. Stopping just above the waistband of her panties, she looks up at you through hooded eyes, her gaze smoldering with unspoken desires.

Leaning in, you capture her lips in a searing kiss, pouring all your pent-up longing into the embrace. Mel responds hungrily, her fingers tangling in your damp hair, pulling you closer. Your bodies mold together, the coolness of your rain-soaked skin contrasting with the heat building between you. It was so stimulating.

You walk backwards until your legs hit the edge of the paint-splattered drop cloth draped across the center of the room. Mel's hands roam over your naked back, nails raking lightly over your skin, leaving tingling trails in their wake. She pushes you gently, urging you to sit on the edge of the canvas.

Falling back onto the soft fabric, you watch as Mel unhooks her bra, letting it slip down her arms and onto the floor. Her breasts are full and perfect, topped with chocolate nipples that beg to be tasted. She leans over you, hair falling like a curtain around you both as she takes your hands, placing them on her breasts.

You knead the soft flesh, feeling the weight of her in your palms. Mel arches into your touch, a breathy moan escaping her lips. You roll her nipples between your fingers, feeling them stiffen and peak. Mel's hips undulate against yours, the heat of her core evident even through the layers separating you.

Sitting up, you hook your fingers in the waistband of her panties, slowly dragging them down her long, toned legs. She lifts her hips, helping you remove the last barrier between you. Now, she's bare before you, all smooth skin and tempting curves, illuminated by the flickering candlelight.

She takes your hand, guiding it to the small of her back as she presses herself against you, your hands roaming the curves of her damp dark skin.

"Touch me," Mel breathes, her voice husky with desire. "Feel how much I crave you. My body and my soul needs you."

Your fingers trace her chest, feeling her heart racing beneath your touch. She shivers as your hand cups the soft swell of her breast, your thumb brushing against the hardened peak. A soft moan escapes her lips, her head falling back as she arches into your caress.

You lean in, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin of her neck. You can taste the rain on her skin, the salt of her desire. "I want you to touch every inch of my body," you murmur, your voice low and filled with want. "To explore the canvas of my body with your hands, your mouth, until you have mapped every curve and hollow."

Mel's hand slides down your back, her nails raking lightly against your skin. She cups your rear, pulling your hips flush against hers. You can feel the heat of her core, even through the layers of your clothing. "Oh, I'll. There's nothing that i crave more than that," she breathes, her lips a hairsbreadth from yours. "I'll taste all of you."

You capture her lips in a searing kiss, pouring all your pent-up desire and longing into the embrace. She kisses you back fiercely, her tongue plundering your mouth, tangling with yours. Your hands roam her body, squeezing the firm globes of her ass, the soft give of her thighs, the delicate bones of her ribs.

Mel’s hands are just as busy, sliding under your dress. Pulling it down and pushing it off your hips. You kick it off and are left in nothing but a pair of soaked panties. The cool air kisses your hot skin, making you shiver. But then Mel’s hands are on you again, sliding under the damp fabric to cup your most intimate place. Her fingers find your center, caressing the slick folds, eliciting all sorts of reactions from you.

You gasp as Mel’s fingers find your slick heat, your hips bucking at her touch. She caresses your folds, teasing your entrance, feeling your arousal coat her fingers. “You’re so wet,” she murmurs, her voice filled with wonder and desire. “So ready for me.”

You can only moan in response, your head falling back as she circles your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to make your toes curl. Your hands grip her shoulders, nails digging into her soft skin as the pleasure builds.

Mel leans in, her lips brushing against your ear. "I want to taste your pleasure," she whispers, her hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "I want to feel you come undone in my mouth, on my tongue."

Before you can respond, she's lowering herself to her knees, her face level with your aching core. She hooks her fingers in the waistband of your panties, tugging them down your legs. You lift your hips, helping her remove the last barrier between you.

Now you're bare before her, exposed and wanting. Mel looks up at you, her eyes dark with lust as she takes in the sight of your glistening folds. "Beautiful," she breathes. "Absolutely gorgeous. You are a goddess on earth. I'm sure Aphrodite envies every inch of your perfection. The perfect muse. The best work of art."

You smiled at her, pleased. That was why you liked to get involved with artists, their compliments were on another level.

You watch, heart pounding, as she leans in and inhales deeply, taking in your scent. Then, slowly, teasingly, she leans in and drags the flat of her tongue along your slit, from your entrance to your clit. You cry out, your hands fisting in her hair as bolts of electricity shoot through your body.

Mel hums against your flesh, the vibrations adding to the intense sensation. She licks you again, slower this time, savoring your taste. Her tongue delves between your folds, stroking your walls, feeling your silken heat. She laps at your essence, drinking it down like a woman thirsting.

Your hips undulate against her face, seeking more of her touch. She gives you what you crave, sealing her lips around your clit and suckling gently. The dual sensations of her lips and tongue working in tandem has you seeing stars, your chest heaving with each ragged breath.

As she suckles, her fingers find your entrance, plunging inside. She pumps them in and out, curling them to stroke that secret spot deep within you. The pleasure builds.

Mel's fingers pump faster, plunging in and out of your dripping core as she suckles your clit with increasing fervor. The obscene sound of your arousal fills the studio, mingling with your wanton moans and cries. She can feel your walls starting to flutter around her invading fingers, your body tensing as your climax approaches.

Releasing your clit with a wet pop, Mel looks up at you, her lips glistening with your essence. "Come for me," she commands, her voice rough with lust. "I want to feel you come apart on my tongue."

She seals her lips around your clit once more and suckles hard, two fingers pumping relentlessly into your weeping core. That's all it takes to send you flying over the edge. Your body goes rigid, back arching as a scream of ecstasy tears from your throat.

Wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes over you, your inner walls clenching and spasming around Mel's fingers. She works you through your climax, her tongue and fingers never stilling until the last aftershock subsides. As you come down, she gentles her touch, bringing you back to earth.

Finally, she withdraws her fingers, bringing them to her lips to lick them clean. "Delicious," she purrs, her gaze never leaving yours. "I could feast on you for hours."

Once you've regained some composure, you reach out and take Mel's hands, gently tugging her up until she's sitting beside you on the sofa. She comes willingly, a playful smirk on her face. You pull her into a deep, sensual kiss, tasting yourself on her lips and tongue.

Breaking the kiss, you gaze into her eyes, your own filled with a new kind of hunger. "Now it's my turn to worship you," you murmur, your voice low and filled with desire. I'm going to make you discover new sensations. "I'll take you to heaven and bring you down to hell. At the same time. You won't know what's happening, you won't remember anything. You'll only remember me and the pleasure I'll give you."

You guide Mel to lie back against the sofa cushions, her dark hair fanning out around her head like a halo. She complies, her eyes never leaving yours as you settle between her spread thighs. You can see the anticipation in her gaze, the way her chest rises and falls with each ragged breath.

Starting at her ankles, you begin your exploration, trailing your fingers slowly up her calves. Her skin is soft and smooth. You caress her knees, feeling the firmness of the muscles beneath the skin.

Higher you go, skimming your hands along her thighs. Her skin is warm and slightly damp from the rain, the scent of her arousal perfuming the air. You can see the way her muscles tense and flutter beneath your touch, reacting to your every caress.

At the apex of her thighs, you pause, your gaze locked with hers. She's watching you intently, her lips parted slightly, her chest heaving. You can feel the heat radiating off her core, see the damp patch darkening the fabric of her panties.

Unable to resist, you lean in and press a soft, open-mouthed kiss to her clothed sex. She gasps, her hips jerking up slightly at the contact. The kiss deepens, your lips moving against her, feeling the shape of her beneath the thin material.

You slowly peel Mel's panties down her legs, revealing her glistening folds to your hungry gaze. She lifts her hips to help you remove the last barrier between you and her aching desire. As you toss the soaked fabric aside, you settle between her thighs, your face mere inches from her dripping sex.

Mel's scent fills your nostrils, the heady aroma of her arousal making your head spin with want. You breathe in deeply, relishing her intoxicating essence. She watches you, her eyes hooded and darkened with lust, as you lean in and extend your tongue.

Slowly, teasingly, you drag your tongue along her slit, feeling her slick arousal coat your taste buds. Mel shudders, a soft moan escaping her lips as your mouth makes contact with her most sensitive flesh. You can feel her walls fluttering, reacting to your touch.

Encouraged by her response, you delve deeper, your tongue plunging into her hot, tight channel. You stroke her walls, feeling the silken texture, tasting her ambrosia. Mel's fingers tangle in your hair, gripping tightly as you feast on her sex.

You lave attention on every inch of her glistening folds, your tongue swirling around her throbbing clit before suckling gently on the sensitive bud. Mel writhes beneath you, her thighs clenching around your head as she grinds her hips against your face.

"Don't stop," she pleads, her voice ragged and breathless. "Please don't stop. I need... I need..."

Her words dissolve into a low moan as you double your efforts, your fingers joining your tongue in pleasuring her. You plunge two digits into her dripping core, pumping them in and out, stroking her walls in time with the strokes of your tongue against her clit.

Mel's grip on your hair tightens, her back arching off the sofa cushions as her climax builds rapidly. You can feel her walls starting to clench, her body tensing, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

With a final, hard suckle to her clit and a curl of your fingers deep inside her, you send Mel flying over the edge. She cries out, a sound of pure ecstasy, as her orgasm crashes over her like a tidal wave.

As Mel's climax subsides, her body goes limp against the sofa, chest heaving as she catches her breath. You place a final, gentle kiss on her sensitive flesh before slowly crawling up her body, leaving a trail of soft kisses along her skin like the perfect lover you were.

Reaching her lips, you capture them in a searing, passionate kiss, pouring all your love and desire into the embrace. Mel kisses you back fiercely, tasting herself on your mouth, moaning softly as her fingers caress your face.

Breaking the kiss, you gaze into her eyes, your own shining with adoration and a deep sense of satisfaction. "That was incredible," you whisper, brushing a damp strand of hair from her forehead. "You're incredible."

Mel smiles, her cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling with post-orgasmic bliss. "I could say the same to you," she murmurs, pulling you down for another tender kiss. "Never in my life have I felt so... complete. So utterly satisfied."

You settle beside her on the sofa, your bodies pressed close, legs entwined. The candlelight flickers over your naked forms, casting a warm, intimate glow. You trace patterns on her skin, marveling at the softness, the smoothness, the way she shivers at your touch.

Mel nestles closer, resting her head on your chest, listening to the steady beat of your heart. Your fingers comb through her dark hair, gently disentangling the damp locks. She sighs contentedly, her hand resting on your stomach, her thumb tracing idle circles on your skin.

In the comfortable silence, you both bask in the afterglow of your lovemaking, the intimacy of the moment. The studio, once filled with the sounds of your passion, now holds a serene, tranquil atmosphere.

Outside, the rain continues to patter against the window panes, the wind whispering through the trees.

Mel quickly fell asleep on your shoulder, you smiled at the tenderness. You adjusted her to a better position and remained silent with your thoughts. You stayed awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering if you had made another mistake.

The morning after that night under the rain, Mel woke up with a calmness she couldn’t recall feeling before. She turned toward your side of the sofá, and there you were, eyes closed, your head slightly tilted to one side, as if sleep had found you in the middle of a deep thought. For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine that scene repeating every day: you, her, the intimacy of dawn.

But when you opened your eyes, the warmth Mel had hoped for wasn’t there. A polite smile, nothing more. Your movements were gentle yet distant, as if you were preparing for a farewell you hadn’t yet spoken.

“Will you stay for breakfast?” she asked, trying to conceal the vulnerability creeping into her voice.

“I can’t. There are things I need to do,” you replied as you got out of the furniture, dressing at a pace neither hurried nor inviting, leaving no room for Mel to insist.

And so began the days that followed. Mel, eager to draw closer to you, and you, keeping your distance, though you occasionally let glimpses of a deeper connection shine through. Each time she thought she’d breached your walls, you rebuilt them with a coldness that left her unsettled.

Your relationship became a whirlwind of intense, conflicting emotions. On one hand, there were moments when Mel felt you were entirely hers: your touches, your kisses, the overwhelming passion you shared when together. But then came the silences, the averted gazes, the evasive answers that left Mel feeling hollow.

One night, after one of those breathtakingly passionate encounters, Mel finally dared to ask what had been weighing on her for weeks.

“Why do you do this?”

You turned to look at her, your eyes flickering with a mixture of surprise and caution. “Do what?”

“Be so close to me… and then so far away,” Mel said, her voice trembling slightly. “I feel like every time I think I know you, you pull away. As if you want to keep me at arm’s length.”

You sighed, averting your gaze toward the window, as though you wished to escape both her and the conversation. “It’s not that simple.”

“Then explain it to me,” Mel pressed. “Let me understand you.”

For a moment, you seemed torn between the instinct to flee and the possibility of opening up. Finally, you rose from the bed, walking toward the window, wrapping yourself in a sheet. From there, you stared out at the city, your thoughts warring within you.

“There was someone before you, before anyone else,” you began, your voice a mere whisper. “Someone who taught me that you can’t love without losing a part of yourself.” You closed your eyes for a moment, blocking out memories that still stung.

Mel sat up, hugging her knees, waiting for you to continue. She didn’t dare interrupt, fearing any word might make you retreat.

“Her name was Caitlyn,” you said at last, her name still difficult to speak. “She was… perfect. Or at least, that’s what I believed. She was everything I’m not: just, noble, constant. And I… I was her opposite. We were like night and day, but somehow, we worked. Or so I thought.”

You paused, and Mel could see the tension in your shoulders, as if the weight of your memories was too much to bear.

“At first, it was exhilarating. She made me feel alive, like I’d finally found a place where I belonged. But then… the differences began to show. Caitlyn wanted order, rules, a clear purpose. And I… I’m chaos. I’ve always been. I tried to be what she needed, I tried to change, but it was never enough. To Caitlyn, I was always a problem to solve, a piece that didn’t fit into her perfect world.”

Mel edged closer to you but didn’t dare touch you. “What happened to her?”

“She left,” you said, your voice steady but laden with pain. “She left because she couldn’t handle what I am. She left because she couldn’t endure the chaos. And I… well, I learned not to expect anything from anyone.”

You turned to Mel, and your eyes held something she hadn’t seen before: vulnerability. “That’s what I am, Mel. Chaos. I’m not constant, I’m not someone you can understand or fix. And I’m certainly not someone you can save.”

Mel shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. “I don’t want to save you. I just want… to be with you. I want you to let me try.”

You smiled sadly, stepping closer and cupping her face in your hands. “You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved,” you whispered before kissing her with an intensity that seemed to etch your words into her heart.

That night, while Mel slept, her breathing soft and steady, you stared at the ceiling, your thoughts oscillating between the serenity of the moment and the storm raging in your mind. Her presence beside you, her gentle warmth, was a constant reminder of what she offered and what you could never fully give back.

Your gaze drifted to her face. In the faint light streaming through the window, she looked angelic—lips slightly parted, hair tousled yet perfect. Her softness, the way her body relaxed under the sheets, radiated a warmth that felt foreign to you.

But it wasn’t her you were thinking of. Unbidden, your mind wandered to Caitlyn. Mel’s face blurred, morphing for an instant into Caitlyn’s, and the echoes of nights spent with her stirred in your chest.

You remembered how Caitlyn used to sleep differently—more composed, her movements deliberate, even in the vulnerability of rest. The contrast with Mel was stark. Caitlyn had never been as open, as vulnerable as Mel. Her love had been stern, unyielding, and what hurt the most was that what you had felt for Caitlyn was nothing like what you felt now for Mel.

You wondered if, deep down, you wished Caitlyn were the one beside you now, holding you, breathing softly by your side. Sometimes, the thought of Caitlyn drew a sigh from your lips, and you couldn’t tell if you lamented it or longed for it with every fiber of your being. Perhaps, you thought, if Caitlyn had been there, things would have been different. She wouldn’t have allowed you to pull away. She would have fought for you, for your love.

But Caitlyn was gone. Caitlyn had left you, taking with her the chance to experience what a genuine, albeit imperfect, love could be. And now, here you were, with Mel, who, without intending to, was overwhelming you with her boundless love and expectations. A love so pure yet too much for someone like you, who had grown used to the emptiness, the cold that kept you safe.

As your eyes traced Mel’s peaceful features, you realized that while your body was here, beside her, your heart, no matter how much you tried to deny it, still sought Caitlyn. It was as if her image was etched into your mind, haunting every corner of your life.

“Why aren’t you her?” you whispered in your thoughts, wishing Mel’s presence could replace what you had lost. But deep down, you knew it wasn’t fair. Not to Mel, and not to yourself.

Caitlyn had been a part of you that you could never reclaim, and maybe—just maybe—that was why you kept your distance. For fear that Mel would become the next victim of a wound that had never truly healed.

You knew Mel was beginning to idealize you, to believe she could change you, as if love alone could mend the cracks in your soul. But you had learned the hard way that it couldn’t. Love doesn’t save; it transforms. And sometimes, those transformations left more scars than they healed.

You promised yourself that, for her sake, you wouldn’t let her get too close. Yet part of you—that small, fractured part that still yearned to feel something other than emptiness—hoped she wouldn’t give up. Yes. You were human, and you were selfish too.

Though your days unfolded with the tranquility of routine, your heart beat in chaotic disarray. At times, you couldn't help but think that Mel was an illusion—a figure too radiant, too intense. And yet, when you looked at her, you knew she was real. She was there, always, her eyes shining with a love so profound and genuine it seemed to consume you, leaving no room to escape.

You kept your distance, of course, because you couldn’t give her what she wanted—what she longed for. Deep down, you knew you’d never be the woman she believed you could become.

Mel was entirely devoted to you, and you were painfully aware of it. To her, you were the muse of her dreams, the missing piece in her life. Her art, her world—everything revolved around you. And no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you knew you had become the center of her existence.

In her infinite passion, she had finished the painting she had been tirelessly working on. Each brushstroke was a silent cry from her heart—a tapestry woven from emotion and anguish, love and despair. The canvas now hanging in her studio captured the magnitude of what you shared but also the boundaries of what you were willing to give. The painting was beautiful, no doubt, but it was also a mirror reflecting all you could never be for her.

The city’s cultural showcase arrived, and as expected, Mel invited you. You felt at ease in the spotlight—you were born for it. The world around you was like a stage you commanded effortlessly. It was so easy, in fact, that it often bored you, driving you to seek novelty, to avoid stagnation at any cost.

You moved through the crowd, flirting shamelessly, aware that Mel couldn’t take her eyes off you. You found it amusing, you had to admit, but you didn’t care about her opinion or her feelings. You had learned to live only for yourself, as everyone should.

The painting was there, standing as a silent declaration of what had been between you. People gathered around it, observing, commenting, admiring. They all said the same things: “It’s stunning.” “A masterpiece.” But you knew that, for Mel, the painting wasn’t just a piece of art. It was a testament to what she felt for you. And that realization stung more than you had expected.

At the end of the night, as the crowd thinned, Mel took your hand with an expression of pride and vulnerability.

“You’ve charmed everyone tonight. Do you realize what you’ve done?” she said, her voice soft but brimming with emotion. “You helped me break through. My work is a success because of you.”

The light in her eyes reflected an uncomfortable truth. She wasn’t just talking about the painting. She didn’t see you merely as a muse for her art. She saw you as something more—something you didn’t know how to handle.

Mel wrapped her arms around you, her body pressing against yours with a familiarity that unsettled you. But when her lips moved closer, when she tried to kiss you, something inside you shattered. You turned your face away abruptly, rejecting her without hesitation.

Her expression shifted from surprise to confusion, then to frustration. It seemed as though she couldn’t comprehend what she had done wrong. It didn’t matter how much she tried; you didn’t feel the same, and you never would, no matter how many gestures of love or tender words she offered.

Your gaze drifted back to the painting—a portrait of you that seemed to delve far beyond the surface. Who were you in that painting? Who were you to Mel? A muse? A perfect image in her mind? A fantasy she could never fulfill?

Before you could speak, Mel broke the silence, her tone urgent, almost desperate.

“I need you to know how I feel,” she said, her voice trembling slightly, as if each word cost her a great effort. “I need more from you. I want you to be mine—entirely. Not just your body, but your soul.”

Her words hit you like a crashing wave against an immovable stone. You felt trapped, as though you were being pulled into something you couldn’t control. But you couldn’t give her what she was asking for. You couldn’t promise her a future that didn’t exist.

“I’ve given you everything I have,” Mel continued, her voice softer now, fragile, like glass on the verge of breaking. “I’ve opened my heart, my mind, my art. But there’s still something missing. Something I don’t want to ask for, but I can’t stop longing for.”

The air in the room grew thick, suffocating. You could hardly breathe, as though an invisible force was tightening around your chest. The weight of her gaze, the intensity of her desire, crushed you.

“Mel…” you finally said, your voice cold, almost detached—a wall you had built to protect yourself. “I’ve been clear from the start. You’ll never be Caitlyn. No one ever will.”

Mel recoiled slightly, as if your words had struck her like a physical blow. Her eyes shimmered with pain, but she said nothing. She simply stared at you, searching for solace, for some sliver of hope. But there was nothing you could give her.

“You’ve fallen in love with an idea that isn’t real,” you said firmly, each word leaving your lips like a dagger. “No one will ever make me love again the way I loved her. I’m not a hero. I’m not a savior. I’m not what you’re looking for. What I can give you will never be enough.”

Mel opened her mouth, but no words came out at first. She was processing, grasping for a way to undo what had just been said, to rewrite your words, to make them her own. But the words were already spoken. There was no turning back.

At last, the chill of your voice broke her.

“Then… what are we? What have I been to you?” she asked, her voice trembling, her body rigid, as though she wanted to run but couldn’t.

You stepped closer, though you made sure to keep an emotional distance. She needed to understand, no matter how much it hurt.

“What we are is nothing, Mel,” you said with unflinching resolve. “You and I are nothing. And there’s nothing you can do to change that.”

The air between you grew heavier, almost unbearable. The words hung in the room like a dense fog, enveloping everything around you. Mel stood frozen, her eyes brimming with a mixture of sorrow and disbelief. Her lips parted, but no sound escaped. It seemed she couldn’t fully process what you had just told her.

You knew those words were the cruelest you’d ever spoken, but they were also the most necessary. You couldn’t keep dragging Mel into a love you couldn’t reciprocate, and you couldn’t keep seeing her as someone she wasn’t.

She could never replace what you had lost with Caitlyn, and you couldn’t keep fooling yourself—or her.

Turning away, you let the silence between you grow. As you walked toward the exit, a knot tightened in your stomach. The words exchanged between you wouldn’t change anything. Perhaps the chasm between you was deeper than either of you had ever imagined.

Mel would never fully understand what you had lost or what it had cost you to get here. And even if you wanted to, you couldn’t give her more.

The silence of those three days was torment itself. The gallery room, the paintings, the space you shared—it all remained, untouched, like an open wound refusing to heal. Time crept by sluggishly, as though the world itself had come to a halt. Mel didn’t seek you out. She had been shattered, and the image of her face—confused, hurt, and broken—lingered in your mind like a ghost. You knew what you’d said had been necessary, but you also knew it had fractured something deep within her. You never intended to hurt her, but some truths, no matter how cruel, serve as shields. And this wall you had built was meant to protect you both.

By the third day, when you thought you might finally begin to breathe without the weight of her gaze, she appeared.

Mel stood at the door of your apartment. Her eyes were red, swollen from what must have been hours—perhaps days—of crying. Her face was drawn, and when she finally spoke, her voice was as fractured as her composure, trembling under the weight of words that seemed to cost her everything.

"I need to talk to you," she said, her voice trembling.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. You simply looked at her, and for a fleeting moment, the world vanished. There was only her—the woman who had stormed into your life with all the force of a tempest, leaving you unsteady in her wake. And now, that tempest seemed extinguished, leaving behind nothing but the vulnerability you had feared seeing.

"I know I overstepped—I didn’t respect your space when you needed it, I know that," she began, her hands clenched tightly at her sides, as though bracing herself. "But I can do better. I can’t let this end like this, Zephyr. I can’t let us hang in this void."

Her eyes glistened with a determination that made you hesitate. It was as if she was clawing for a lifeline, pleading silently for forgiveness—for the chance to undo what had already been done. Yet, instead of retreating, she stepped closer, her words growing more desperate, more raw.

"I—I love you. Do you understand? I love you," she said, her voice cracking under the weight of the confession. "I’ve tried, but I can’t live without you. I’ve thought about it, over and over, and I can’t leave this unfinished. I need us to matter."

You stood frozen, her words hanging in the air like shards of glass. Part of you wanted to reach for her, to tell her what she wanted to hear. But fear—fear of causing her more pain—anchored you to the spot.

"Mel..." you whispered finally, your voice soft, yet laced with a coldness you couldn’t suppress. "I warned you from the start—not to fall in love with me."

The words lingered in the space between you, and for a moment, you thought she might not understand. But the light in her eyes didn’t fade. Instead, her gaze grew more intense, as though she were searching for a crack, a weakness, a way to prove you wrong.

"But why? Why not?" she pressed, her hands now reaching out to you, as if trying to pull you back to her, back to the love she so desperately clung to. "We can go to London. We can start fresh, together. I need to return to my work there, but I won’t leave you behind. I promised myself I wouldn’t. Come with me—everything will change. I’ll make sure you never regret it. Please, just say yes. Say yes to me."

Her words hung in the air, shimmering with promises of a future that felt more like a dream than reality. London, a fresh start, a new chapter—it all sounded so perfect, as though the past could be erased with one step forward. But you knew better. You knew you couldn’t escape the truth of what you felt—or didn’t feel.

"Mel," you sighed, letting the carefully built walls around your heart crumble. "It’s not about any of that. I don’t care if you leave or stay. I have my life here, and I’m happy in my own way. I don’t need you, Mel—I never did. And you don’t need me either. No one needs someone else to survive. It feels that way now, but in time, you’ll see I was right."

She took another step toward you, her eyes searching yours desperately, as if willing you to change your mind. But all you could do was hold her gaze, unable to offer the solace she craved.

"I care about you, Mel," you continued, your voice heavy with sorrow, "but not the way you care about me. Not the way you need me to. I can’t keep being the lifeline you’re grasping at. I told you not to fall for me because I knew I couldn’t be what you wanted."

Her breath hitched, and the raw anguish in her eyes was almost unbearable.

"Then what am I to you?" she asked, her voice a fragile whisper. "What have I been to you, if not what I hoped?"

You held her gaze, searching for the right words, but none would come. You couldn’t tell her she had been nothing more than an illusion—a reflection of what she wanted to see. And yet, you knew you couldn’t keep pretending to be something you weren’t.

"You are someone who brought light into my life," you said at last, your tone as heavy as hers. "Someone who gave me moments of joy, of companionship. I’ve learned from you, Mel. But that’s not enough. I can’t be what you’re looking for. I’m not who you think I am."

Her expression shattered further, the pale mask of her face cracking under the weight of your words. Her lips trembled as she struggled to respond, to find some ground to stand on in the midst of your rejection.

"What do you want from me?" she asked finally, her voice breaking. "What can I do to make you see how much I love you? What more can I give?"

"Let me go," you replied softly, each word carrying the weight of a thousand unsaid truths. "Let me go, so you can find what you truly need. It isn’t me."

The silence between you became suffocating. The air itself felt heavier, the moment unbearable in its finality. She stood frozen, as though the world had stopped around her, unable to process what you had just said.

You took a slow breath, knowing what you had to do next.

"Tell me," you said, your voice steady, though tinged with sadness, "what’s my favorite color?"

She blinked, stunned by the question. Her gaze flitted across your face, searching for an answer, for some clue. But you both knew she didn’t know.

The silence stretched, and finally, she admitted it. She didn’t know.

That was all the proof you needed.

You smiled softly, the gesture laced with sorrow.

"You don’t know me, Mel," you said gently. "You’re not in love with me. You’re in love with the idea of me—the version of me you’ve created in your mind. Not the real me."

Before her, your figure stood firm, distant—a shadow fading slowly into the past.

No more words were needed. Everything had already been said, each syllable carving the path to this inevitable moment. The goodbye had been silently written long before, and now the last chapter was closing. Mel’s heart thundered in her chest, a pain blossoming within her that defied words. So much remained unspoken, so many pleas hovered on her lips, yet none escaped. She knew the truth—this ending was already written, and no force in the world could rewrite it.

You stepped toward her, and though the storm inside threatened to consume her, Mel didn’t move, didn’t speak. How she wished for simplicity, for perfection—for you to look at her with the same love that she had poured into you endlessly. But reality painted a different picture.

With a gentleness that was almost cruel in its tenderness, you kissed her cheek. The touch, fleeting as it was, carried the weight of an eternity. Mel closed her eyes, letting the warmth of the gesture seep into her skin. But it wasn’t the kiss itself that shattered her—it was the sadness behind it, the resignation of a love that had never flourished the way she had dreamed.

“Thank you for everything,” you said, your voice steady yet distant. “For all that we shared. But this... it can’t continue.”

Mel’s eyes searched yours, desperate for a flicker of doubt, a hint that perhaps this wasn’t final. But all she found was determination—unyielding and absolute—lodging itself into her chest like a dagger.

She couldn’t understand. She couldn’t accept it.

“Why?” she whispered, her voice barely audible, trembling under the weight of her anguish.

You hesitated, your gaze softening momentarily. Then, stepping back, you looked at her with a bittersweet blend of sorrow and resolve. It was as if everything Mel had ever sought in you, every piece of the connection she had tried to weave, was now slipping through her fingers like sand.

“I don’t want you to keep waiting for something I can’t give,” you began, your tone firm but tinged with regret. “I don’t want you to waste your time. Time is precious, Mel. And I can’t change who I am, nor do I want to. Not for you, not for anyone. The healthiest thing for both of us is to say goodbye and move on with our lives—as we were always meant to.”

The words hit her like a tidal wave, the air rushing from her lungs as though the ground had been pulled out from under her. Goodbye? Was this truly it? Could everything they had built, everything they had shared, crumble so easily in a single breath?

“No!” she cried out, her voice rising involuntarily, as if sheer desperation could bend fate. But the plea felt hollow, echoing in the void between them. There was nothing left to salvage.

You studied her for a long moment, your expression unreadable. There was no anger in your eyes, only the quiet sorrow of someone bidding farewell to a dream that had never truly been theirs. Mel’s tear-filled gaze searched for answers, for something—anything—that could stop this unraveling. But all she found was silence.

It was over.

Mel swallowed hard, feeling a fracture deep within her soul. She couldn’t let the despair consume her, couldn’t let the pain define her. And yet, it did. It was as if the weight of the universe had descended upon her, every emotion—grief, abandonment, inadequacy—crashing over her all at once.

You turned away, your steps carrying you toward the door. The finality of it hung in the air like a storm cloud. Mel remained frozen, unable to move, unable to speak. She could only watch as the last vestiges of what she had cherished slipped away.

At the threshold, you paused. For a fleeting moment, it seemed as though you might turn back, as though the story might still change. But you didn’t. Instead, you sighed softly, your back to her, the weight of unspoken words heavy in the space between you.

“Goodbye, Mel,” you murmured, your voice barely more than a breath. And with that final whisper, you disappeared, leaving her alone with the emptiness, the ache, and the reality that nothing could be undone.

Mel stood there in the stillness, the golden light of the setting sun casting long shadows across the room. Minutes passed before she finally moved, retreating into the solitude of her home. The quiet enveloped her, and the weight of your absence pressed down with unbearable force. Something inside her had shattered, something she knew could never be made whole again.

By the next morning, Mel was at the airport, her ticket to London clutched tightly in her hand. The cold city air greeted her as she stepped off the plane, biting against her skin as if to remind her she was still alive. But inside, she felt hollow.

In her hand, she held a postcard—a picture of the Greek isles, the sea and mountains stretching endlessly. It was one of the few remnants of you she still possessed, a fragment of the life you had once shared. Staring at it, a phrase echoed in her mind, as clear as if you had whispered it in her ear:

“Promise me that you won’t fall in love with me.”

And in that moment, something broke entirely. It was the hardest truth she had ever faced, the truth she had buried deep within her heart. She had never been enough. She would never be enough.

But she accepted it. With a heart fractured but resolute, she accepted it. And as she stepped into the crowd, she understood a lesson she had always known: some stories do not end happily. Peace is not always attainable. But at least the love she had felt was real, even if it had not been returned.

[theinfernaldesiremachine]

I want to know more about the guy who threw three tons of type into the Thames, please! Thank you!!

So first, thank you for this ask. I love talking about this guy, and you gave me an excuse to fact-check all of the absurd things I’ve learned about him over the past year or so and, as a result, learn even more absurd things about him. But oh man, where to start. So those tags were about a guy named Thomas James Cobden-Sanderson (often written about as T. J. Cobden-Sanderson, TJCS here for efficiency). He was an absolutely fascinating dude – quit like three or four different career paths before actually becoming a lawyer and just fucking hating it. He was hanging out with his buddy William Morris (yes, THAT William Morris*) lamenting his lack of satisfying work when Morris’s wife Jane (yes THAT Jane Morris**) suggested he try his hand at bookbinding. (Side note (there are going to be so many side notes): TJCS is the one who coined the name “Arts and Crafts” for the decorative arts movement that Morris basically founded, and TJCS was hugely influential in that circle as well.) He started a bookbinding apprenticeship and just kind of blew everyone away. He was crazy good at it much faster than he should have been, and he founded the Doves Bindery (named after the nearby pub, not the bird) with capital from his wife.

(The biggest side note: TJCS was a hard core Wife Guy, and Annie Cobden-Sanderson was insanely cool in her own right. She was a famous suffragette, was arrested and imprisoned for demonstrating in the lobby of parliament, and was an evangelist for vegetarianism. This whole post could be about her, actually. TJCS thought she was so cool that he took her name – he was T. J. Sanderson, she was Annie Cobden, and when they married, they both took the name Cobden-Sanderson. She went to the U.S. in the early 20th century to teach the suffragettes there what she had learned protesting in England, so I feel like she is in part responsible for my right to vote. Love her.)

Okay, but back to TJCS. Our very talented, very egotistical, very tempestuous little dude was Not Satisfied binding whatever books came in the door because he had big feelings about what the Ideal Book should be. To that end, he teamed up with printer and engraver Emery Walker, William Morris’s former partner at the Kelmscott Press (yes, THAT Kelmscott Press***) to found the Doves Press so that he could create the most beautiful books by printing only the most beautiful words. TJCS was the “visionary and fanatic” (his words) and Walker was the technician. TJCS commissioned a new typeface to be used exclusively by the Doves Press. It was based on some of the most beautiful typography ever created – the capitals based on Nicholas Jensen’s 15th century roman that’s still considered one of the standards of perfection in type design (if you’ve ever used Centaur or read a book set in it, that’s kind of the contemporary version of Jensen’s roman). The Doves Press was unexpectedly successful and it along with Kelmscott Press laid the foundation for what would be the fine press movement of the 20th century. The Doves Bindery now only bound Doves Press books, and if you have a local library or museum that has examples in their collection, it’s well worth the trip to go look at these books.

(The opening of Genesis from The Doves Bible, widely regarded as one of the most perfect books ever printed, image from Jonkers Rare Books.)

Of course, “tempestuous” and “egotistical” are not a great recipe for long and healthy partnerships, even when coupled with “very talented,” and TJCS and Walker had a mega falling out. TJCS was a perfectionist the level of which it is hard to overstate. Walker was… not. He was a printer. You printed your pages, and that was that; sometimes there were going to be errors. Also, he liked to make money. The Doves Type was widely regarded as the most beautiful typeface in existence, and there were lots of folks willing to pay to use it in their own printing pursuits like advertising and other commercial work. I’m sure you can imagine how well this went over with TJCS. After what seemed like endless fighting, a mutual friend, Sydney Cockerell****, suggested a compromise: TJCS would get exclusive use of the Doves Type for the rest of his life, but Emery Walker would own it and could do whatever he wanted with it once TJCS died. Walker figured this was the best he was going to get and agreed. TJCS agreed at the time, but as he got older, he got even more tempestuous and obsessive, and this is where the river comes in. Dude grabbed all of the matrices and punches (the stuff you would need to make more of the Doves Type) and literally threw it into the Thames. Fine, now the only Doves Type that exists is what’s in active use by the Doves Press. That was not good enough for our good friend and Weird Little Guy TJCS. No, in addition to throwing the matrices and punches into the river, he ALSO threw every last piece of type in the workshop into the river. This is fucking hilarious because it’s not like a print shop just has a few copies of the alphabet laying around. A working press (even a small one) like the Doves Press had literally more than a ton of type in the workshop. TJCS was so petty and so determined that only HE would ever get to use this type that he made almost TWO HUNDRED trips to Hammersmith Bridge to dump type in the river.

And the story doesn’t even end there! And I’m typing this alone on my couch instead of trying to retell the abridged version over drinks with friends, so guess what? You get the rest of the story too! The Doves Type is still to this day considered one of the most beautiful typefaces ever created, and I get to introduce you to another single-minded, obsessive little guy who REALLY REALLY wanted to create the most accurate digital facsimile possible of the Doves Type. His name is Robert Green, and at first he was just looking at the texts printed by the Doves Press and trying to recreate it from the printed pages themselves. He did a pretty good job. In his quest, read everything he could about TJCS and the Doves Press, including TJCS’s diaries. I’m not sure anyone before Green really took literally TJCS’s declaration that the type had been “dedicated & consecrated” to the river but Green sure did. He even figured out that TJCS’s bridge of choice must have been Hammersmith. And then he started digging around. Almost a hundred years after TJCS donated it to the Thames, Green found a piece of the Doves Type in the mud under Hammersmith Bridge. With help from Port of London Authority divers, more than one hundred and fifty pieces of the Doves Type were recovered, and Green was able to revise his facsimile based on actual specimens.

The absolutely insane consequence of this is that YOU, dear friend, can buy your own license to the Doves Type and use it for whatever unhinged purpose you can dream up. Whether your interests align with TJCS and you also want to create the Ideal Book, or you feel like typesetting your favorite shitpost, one of the most beautiful typefaces ever cut is at your disposal.

Feels a little silly to put the footnotes under the cut given how long this got, but we're running solely on vibes now, so here we go.

*Founding member of the Arts and Crafts movement, iconic designer, you definitely know who William Morris is. Or at least you've seen his wallpaper.

**Similarly, textile artist, muse and model for the painters of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood and Arts and Crafts movement, you know who Jane Morris is.

***If you know Kelmscott press, it's likely because you know The Kelmscott Chaucer. It is widely considered one of the most beautiful books ever printed, and it's likely that you've seen images of its pages if your interests run bookish at all (and I kind of assume they do if you've managed to read this far).

****Okay, so I footnoted Sydney Cockerell mostly to talk about his younger brother, Douglas. You probably don't know who Douglas Cockerell was, but I think you should! The fine binding tradition in England is an incredibly vibrant community of artists, and many of them can trace their education directly to TJCS through his apprentice Douglas Cockerell. Cockerell quickly became a giant in the craft and trained a generation of bookbinders himself, notably Bernard Middleton, another deeply talented binder and teacher who taught many, including Dominic Riley, from whom I have been lucky enough to take classes.

[wutheringmights]

Nightbane by Alex Aster opens with a quote from Cato, A Tragedy (1713) by Joseph Addison: “My bane and antidote are both before me.” Very important. Very cinematic. 

Quotes can rarely, if ever, be taken out of context without any loss of meaning. So I have a personal policy to research the origins of whatever quote an author opens their book with. After all, a good quote should provide important framing or context for the book you’re about to read.  

To summarize a very fascinating Wikipedia article: Cato, a Tragedy is an Enlightenment era play about Cato the Younger’s last days and his opposition to the reign of Julius Caesar. Cato was an icon of republicanism and, fittingly, the play deals with themes of “individual liberty versus government tyranny, republicanism versus monarchism, logic versus emotion, and Cato's personal struggle to hold to his beliefs in the face of death.” 

Nowadays, the play is obscure. Modern productions of the play are rare, if ever staged. The text is also not included in most academic curriculum. Yet, Addison’s work seems to have been highly inspirational for America’s Founding Fathers. According to Wikipedia, quotes like “give me liberty or give me death” are theorized to be references to Addison’s play that the founding fathers assumed their audience would understand. George Washington even attended a production of it while in Valley Forge in 1778.

With its considerable influence on the founding of this country, it’s mind-boggling to me that this play is not only not taught in school, but is largely forgotten. I even asked my father, who is almost 70 and is a giant history buff, if he knew anything about this play in the vain hope that maybe some previous generation learned about it. But, no; even he had no idea what it was until I told him.

My bane and antidote are both before me comes from a soliloquy from act 5, scene 1. In it, Cato contemplates the merits of committing suicide. The bane and antidote is a sword he places his hand on and a copy of Plato’s Immortality of the Soul. He does not want to kill himself. How could anyone? But if he does not die now, he will have to live in a world made for Caesar. But Plato’s writings provide reason to the universe, which gives him comfort: “the stars shall fade away, the sun himself / Grow dim with age, and Nature sink in years; / But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth, Unhurt amid the war of elements, / The wrecks of matter, and the crush of worlds!”

There’s something undeniably fascinating about pieces of art that were highly influential during a period of history that have been lost to the passage of time now. Cato, a Tragedy is a cornerstone in American history, yet that did not save it from being a victim of obscurity. It failed to flourish in immortal youth. 

Joseph Addison is best remembered as an essayist. His simple prose style was credited by John Julius Norwich as the marked end of the conventional, classical images of the 17th century.  You can hardly believe it with the ease of poetry in Cato’s words. 

What does this have to do with Nightbane? 

Absolutely nothing. I am ninety-five percent certain that Aster found this quote on an enemies-to-lovers moodboard and declared it good enough! Sure, the quote has nothing to do with romance, but hey! Who would go through the effort to research the original context? 

I spent so much time waxing poetry about Cato first because it's a funny bit; but mostly because it’s at least interesting. There’s nothing to say about Nightbane except that it’s bad. But you already knew that. That’s why you and everyone else in my life wanted me to read this book. It has to be bad to warrant any real attention. 

Hell, even I wanted to read this book because it’s bad. Aster’s books are my guilty pleasure, largely because she sucks. Aster writes like she has never written anything before and is quickly realizing that it’s not that easy. When I read Lightlark and Nightbane, I feel like I am thirteen years old and writing my first story all over again. It brings me joy and comfort in a way that’s completely unmarred by irony. 

That’s why I can almost forgive Nightbane for all the times the story goes out of its way to respond or correct a criticism from the first book. Aster definitely reads the comments, and it’s comical all the lengths she goes through to retcon bad ideas or retroactively add lore. It reminds me not only of how I wrote when I was a pre-teen, but how I write now with my way too long, just publish the first draft it’s fine, writing project. 

One of the somewhat interesting ideas Aster introduces is a plot line about the ethics of having your peasantry’s lives literally tied to their monarchs and Isla’s budding admiration for democracy. Of course, she only brings either up because these were among her critics’ common talking points. It’s obvious she has no real desire to explore either idea for all it’s worth.

The democracy plotline ends with a big slap to the face to Cato, A Tragedy’s legacy. Isla promises to make the Starling kingdom a democracy in the future. Why? She personally doesn’t want to be a ruler. She has no problem with the idea of the monarchy and has no real passion for self-determinism. She just doesn’t want to have any responsibility. It’s too much work. 

Plus, she only wants to make the Starlings a democracy. Not the Wildings. She may hate having any form of responsibility, but she’s not inclined to unseat herself from power. She can still be the Wildling’s shitty ruler. No democracy for them. Sorry. It’s so blatantly hypocritical that it turns comical, and I fall a little more in love with the absurdity of Aster’s storytelling. 

While there are a lot of flaws I can forgive, I can’t forgive when the plot “goes through the motions.” Aster clearly wanted to include scenes where Isla and Grimshaw (I still refuse to call him Grim) recite bog-standard dialogue and recreate tropey romantic moments. The lead up to these scenes are vaguely, choppy, and inconsequential. The why does not matter; only these scenes do. 

Except when these scenes happen, they are so generic that your eyes skim over them. Isla and Grim already do not feel like real people. I can hardly call them characters, or even concepts. To call them shadows suggests there is some kind of substance they spring from. I can’t even think of a good metaphor to describe them. 

They are nothing. The plot is nothing. The prose is nothing. There is nothing worth chewing on. It’s not even worth composing a long rant about it. 

It’s easy-bordering-pathetic to dissect a book everyone knows is bad, especially when your only purpose is to explain why it’s bad. Where is the critical thought? What effort are you actually putting into your analysis when everyone already agrees with your arguments? I will always prefer a critic who goes after works that are genuinely popular and well-liked. If you want to win an argument then, you have to work for it. 

Yet, I’m still here doing this. You’re still here reading it. Ultimately, we’re all victims to the smug pleasure of believing that we are not capable of producing trash like this. Obviously, we are all secretly the world’s greatest artistes. We are the next Great American Novelist. None of us are capable of writing anything thoughtless, absurd, or shallow. We are infallible, unlike the sinner Alex Aster. 

So, yeah. Bad book. Really wish someone will let me read a good one soon. 

--

Nightbane by Alex Aster

⭐/5 stars

--

Now that I have finished lording my moral superiority over all of you, here is a miscellaneous list of stupid shit that happened in Nightbane. Even I can’t resist kicking the dead horse:

Oro reveals that he is deeply traumatized from  accidentally killing someone by turning them into gold. Isla proceeds to demand a gilded blade of grass as a romantic tribute. He gives it to her. It’s romantic. 

Oro is rich, has a job, and a healthy group of friends, and is somehow still going to lose this love triangle. What bullshit. 

After emphasizing how traumatic if was for the Skylings to lose their ability to fly, the narrative tries to convince you that the Skylings would choose not to fight a war where them refusing to fight will lead to them losing the ability to fly again.

This is so stupid that when there’s a debate about it, Aster provides no examples as to why they shouldn’t fight; she just states she happens.

So much of the story is just told-- isla’s feelings and motivations, the lore, character relationships: it’s all just told to us. 

Isla is confronted with having to fix the social issues of both the Wildlings and Starlings; instead of solving them herself and learning something new, an extremely competent lesbian volunteers to fix everything for her.

One of said problems is that Wildings, who have plant-based magic, do not know how to grow crops.

Wildings have also never cooked the hearts they have been eating. Like, ever? Not once in five hundred years?

Isla shows prejudice towards the Vinderland because they are cannibals.

It’s increasingly unclear how the immortality rule works about the nobility

New lore reveals that the Nightshade have so many extra cool magic abilities because of lore reasons, and not because Aster likes them the best.

There’s a rebel group that got fed up with the rulers not fixing the curse; they also managed to make no progress in solving the very easy mystery in less than 500 years. 

During flashback time, Grimshaw saves Isla no less than 7 times

There is a night market on Nightshade that has to take place during the day time, due to the curse. They still call it a night market.

There are multiple Nightshade events where the dress code is on a scale from”instagram baddie” to actually just naked. Isla’s clothes are described in detail, but not Grimshaw. I can only assume that his dick and balls were out every time.

Grimshaw seems to also be the only unfun prude on an island of hedonistic extroverts. 

There is a sword that had been stolen no less than three times by different thieves.

New starstick lore clarifies it’s a device (not a wand!), and that Isla can’t use it to go anywhere she hasn’t been before; this renders her entire backstory impossible.

Instead of disengaging a bunch of traps, Grimshaw decides to Looney Tunes his ass and trigger each one by one.

There’s so much on and off screen cannibalism and flaying that neither are cool anymore. Sorry! We have to find new imagery for our toxic situationships.

The plot structure being a jump back and forth between the past and present made me question my own ability to write a storyline like that lmao

Isla and Grimshaw have been married the whole time, in a plot twist shoved in at the last second with very little thought put into it. 

Isla should divorce his ass. I hope Lightlark is a no-fault state. If not, she luckily has a fuckton of faults to bring up.