#if it wasn't obvious i am a violence enjoyer

[borkadonk]

fuck it, infodumping another unnecessarily edgy au

this one’s older and bread focused, i had art for it but i forgor lmao i’ll see if i can find em

red room/snuff film production au ft. evon tost n brodn, a pretty rare trio i know once again im just making content that specifically caters to myself leave me alone - it was brodins idea, this is basically just an evil brodin au but cranked into overdrive - brodin somehow manipulated yvonne to cooperate, either through bribery or blackmail, cuz snuff films gets more traction when the executers are girls, even better cuz she used a schoolgirl gimmick - they kidnap and film at very degen hours - idk if this takes place in the old otv house or what but yvonne toast and brodin are roommates - toast was awake at those hours once and heard a commotion in the basement, specifically a muffled screaming and sudden silence - toast went to the basement thinking they were having a movie night or sumin, nope - brodins reflexes is fast as fuck he conked toast out with his camera before he could even say anything - yvonne went oh god oh fuck what do we do, brodin just went guess we filming twice tonight - turns out toast went out like a light and he woke up at daytime which of course they cant film, so they just left him tied up in the basement while explaining to him what he saw and what they've been doing cuz they thought he at least deserved to know as a friend before he dies - while waiting for night time toast asked for shit like contacting his family at least n whatnot, they denied it all of course and just let him write a will instead - night falls its filming time, yvonne dismembered toast with a chainsaw, more eagerly than she usually is lmao - after its done they stuffed his parts in a bag and while they were dragging it to the car to drive to the incinerator, they heard it scream - toast was still alive, very much in pain but conscious, all 3 of em were confused how lmao - yvonne thought she didn't finished the job but right before she stabbed his head, brodin stopped her - he remembered that regeneratives exist and thought toast might be one - they brought him back to the house and tried to put him back together, all his limbs stuck back to normal within a few minutes - they were all disbelieved for a moment, then brodin remembered they still had to decide what to do with toast now that he knows about their shady project, they cant just let him go and snitch - toast, not wanting to be incinerated, offered to be a reoccurring victim for their films - yvonne hesitated cuz she thought ppl wont wanna watch the same person die over and over again, but brodin denied by saying that snuff films of regeneratives already exist and they do just as well, so they accepted his offer - toast took this as an opportunity to practice acting - well he didn't need to put effort into acting at first cuz it was more like method acting, he still feels pain everytime it happens but overtime he gets used to it and learned to exaggerate his reactions - yvonne hated the job even more now that she had to work with toast

also bonus siwo reaction (yeah u can see from the dates how old this au is)

[orangechickenpillow]

Hello, fellow enjoyer of BG3/Prospect/Arcane/The Ghoul Boys/TAD/WWDITS/probably other things I've yet to discover because you clearly have stellar taste in media! ✨

I wanted to throw an idea at you that has been rotting my brain: TAD songs for BG3 characters.

"Inkpot Gods" simply IS Wyll and Karlach. "The Old Witch Sleep and The Good Man Grace" might seem the obvious choice for Astarion but I would like to make an argument that "Farewell Wanderlust" is even better. "The Horror and The Wild" is Karlach's all on her own. "Elsa's Song" is giving Gale for some reason? Unsure why.

Anyway, sorry for the random long-ish ask. But what do you think? :D

Ahhhh thank you so much. I've seen you in my notifs and am happy to report that we're officially best friends now <3

Thank you so much for throwing this idea at me holy shit???? I went back and listened to all three TAD albums specifically to answer this, so.... yeah, we're definitely best friends.

I'm loving what you've got so far -- Inkpot Gods works so perfectly for the Avernus duo, and honestly could be the theme song for bg3 in general. Jesus christ, what a song, am I right. Farewell wanderlust is sooooo Astarion I'm going to lose my mind about it I mean be totally normal. Also I feel like it fits Lae'zel really well too. I actually found that a lot of songs I liked for Astarion worked for Lae just as well. Interesting. Anyway, during my trillionth re-listen to the TAD albums here are the notes I took on my phone lmao:

Love Run for Wyll. The wholesome, strong, hopefulness this song radiates fits him so well. It's also really fucking romantic, and so is he.

I also think that Two Minutes is fitting for him. That whole vibe of an abandoned child, of someone who is so tired and beaten down by life but still manages to keep going despite it all. I really adore Wyll, and the more romantic TAD songs fit him perfectly.

I love Wild Blue Yonder for Karlach. It's silly but heartfelt, and so full of yearning. It has a light approach to life while still acknowledging how hard things can be, and that's just so Karlach. Also, "We don't know what's out there -- could be ghosts or monsters, or a robot vampire, I don't know" sounds like something she would say lol

You're so right about The Horror and the Wild. That's just. Karlach and Gortash. "Give me back my heart you wingless thing" are you fucking kidding me right now, I'm going to pull a Karlach and explode.

Also I think The Horror and the Wild fits Astarion equally well. I'll always yammer on about how Astarion and Karlach are two sides of the same coin, and this song is a great representation of that. "You passed your fingers through my hair and called me child -- witness me, old man, I am the wild" -- Astarion and Cazador. Please send help, I am ill over this and will not be recovering.

"Think of all the horrors that I promised you I'd bring" Karlach. Astarion. Shadowheart. Lae'zel. Literally help me.

Blossoms for Gale. It's a very intense song, but it's also weary. It's strong but desperate, yet determined. I also think it fits him as the one who would be leading the group if Tav wasn't around. It's a somber and dramatic song, but it's ultimately fueled by tender love. Sound like anyone else we know?

Similarly to you pairing him with Elsa's Song (which I love btw), I think The Rockrose and the Thistle is VERY Gale (and, dare I say, bloodweave? The singer begging to die and the other person "sewing" them back together??? Hello?????) Just like the more romantic songs fit Wyll, the quieter, more subdued songs fit Gale. I think those songs really capture desperation in its most potent form, and Gale is kind of like the human version of that (sorry Gale)

Okay, New York Torch Song could be any of the ladies. Literally any of them. It's perfect. This one also makes me think of Karlach and Wyll.

I adore That Unwanted Animal for Astarion. The helplessness paired with the subtle sense of revenge and violence. The sexual tones throughout. The lack of romance.

I like The Old Witch Sleep and the Good Man Grace for Astarion, and I also really like it for Lae'zel. Her whole being raised by a cult thing really aligns with the vibe of the song -- being told that you're one thing and having to fight to be anything else, the desperation of feeling like you have no purpose. Fighting it all and coming out on top anyway. The steady increase in the intensity of the song representing getting your power back. It's so herrrrrr

King fits her well too. This song is so badass. I think it represents the soldier archetype well. It's cool, she's cool, it's perfect.

Pray makes me think of Shadowheart. Obviously the religious tone of the song fits her well, but also its pure spite. It's really giving "abandoned daughter" vibes, which is perfect for her. Also, "honey I'm no man, I'm what's left when children go to war" are you fucking kidding me.

Anywayyyyy, this was long, yikes. I have a lot of Thoughts as you can see. Thank you SO much for letting me yap about two of the things I love very much and might be obsessed with, who knows. I'll end by officially asking for your hand in marriage <3

[northernreads]

book review

★★★★★

I'm having a hard time putting all of my thoughts into a coherent review so it is likely going to be a bit of a ramble.

While reading this book I couldn't help but be slowed down by all of the explanations for different bookish and publishing terminology, and I kept getting frustrated by it. Even though I know people outside of the bookish/publishing world don't necessarily know what all of this insider jargon means (like what ARC stands for), it felt clunky to have it spelled out. I would be reading and thinking to myself "yeah, yeah, I knoooow, you don't need to tell me" but of course not everyone does know all that stuff. And I think this sticks out so much because the audience for this book is incredibly niche. This a book written for and about the publishing industry as well as the bookish community that halos it (in particular the 'bookternet' community) all of whom don't need all of that jargon explained.

I am genuinely curious to know what people outside this community do think of this book. Does all the satire still make sense? Does it feel so cutting? Does it sting for an outsider too? I just don't think I would have gotten as much out of this book if I wasn't already so aware of everything it is satirizing and it is absolutely part of what made this reading experience so incredible and enjoyable for me.

This book is calling out the publishing industry and it's supposed goals of getting diverse stories. The token representation that is all too often still packaged for white audiences is an obvious and necessary target that Kuang takes aim at. And boy are shots fired. Also tackling the pigeon-holing of "diversity" writers as well as the issue of trauma stories so often being chosen over stories of joy or just plain existing. I hope at least some people in the industry take a good long look in the mirror, but let's be real. So few ever will.

This book is also talking to the online bookish community and it's chronic online-ness. Kuang doesn't stop at those working in publishing either. Another part of a writer's job today seems to be about promoting themselves online and maintaining a social media presence. So of course she fired shots at the 'bookternet' community too.

I was honestly impressed by how succinctly she captured the ridiculousness of being in bookish spaces on the internet. It really just captures Chronic Online-ness, which is so prevalent and loud in bookish internet spaces. Especially on twitter. I have never really gotten involved with book twitter because I never really liked twitter's format, but I have seen the drama spill out into other bookish internet spaces (like booklr) from time to time. And Kuang just got every angle of it so accurately it had me cackling. I have watched the cycle of outrage and posturing and virtue signaling followed by the inevitable turn around against the very person that was previously being defended so. many. times. I remember getting caught up with it the first couple of times over ten years ago and then realizing how shallow everyone's outrage was (including my own) and have become a morbidly curious observer over the years instead.

As I was reading these scenes I was wondering how people that still participate in these drama cycles felt about being so very called out about. And judging by some of the reviews here, it's safe to say that it's not just publishing workers who refuse to look for very long into the mirror after reading this book.

Kuang has been criticized for being too heavy handed in her writing not only for Yellowface but also her previous book, Babel. In Babel I could see why some people felt the themes about colonialism were 'too in-their-face', but that heavy-handedness, to me, was done with purpose. Kuang was not going to let people look away from the violence of Imperialism. She was going to make you confront it again and again and again. It was not a story with a goal of giving readers comfort. Since so many books are published with a white audience in mind, Kuang made sure that white people were forced to take a long look in the mirror, acknowledged their privilege, and learn about the damage of colonialism. That obviously made some white people very uncomfortable.

Yellowface seems to be a very clear response to that criticism. I did not find this book nearly as heavy-handed, instead of hitting readers of the head with The Point as was done with Babel, Kuang just keeps dropping bombs and leaving it with the reader to decide if they will take the time to mull it over. She seems to being saying 'Okay here is The Point. I am not going to spoon feed it to you. But do you even get it though?'. She's not force-feeding us this time, but she's not hiding it in a vague metaphor either. If you don't take the time to contemplate over everything, that's not on Kuang. She's meeting us readers halfway on this one.

I loved getting this book from June's perspective too, it was so well done. She was so diabolical and awful and yet, Kuang is so good and making you wonder if maybe June does have a point. She doesn't though as June is completely unlikable and that's what made this book all the sharper and more compelling.

And that ENDING. Wow. Like a cockroach.

Overall this book was brilliant and ballsy.

This is now my favourite book by Kuang and my absolutely my favourite book of the year.

[crimsonrae]

Disintegration

Chapter Two

Summary: He witnessed the worst night of her life, he just never expected for her to become the love of his life.

KlausxCami

Warnings: Mentions of Domestic Abuse.

Rating: Mature

Chapter Two

2009

Amber liquid sat almost tauntingly within its iced tumbler as Camille stared aimlessly at the wall. Low chattering echoed dimly in her ears, but she registered little of the subdued crowd. She felt angry... no, she felt numb. Like a spindly serpent lying in wait for its prey, her anger lurked beneath the surface – its coil hardly tolerable.

Her fingers clenched around her glass, silently reveling in the wet dew that had coalesced on its exterior. It anchored her to the present even as she drifted in her scattered thoughts. Small bursts of Saturday played in her head, stuck like a broken reel. It was both a blur and all too clear. She could still feel the slick feel of Scott's blood on her hands, even as quips of conversation broke her reverie. Hours spent in the county jail had been nothing compared to the cold words from her mother and the stony silence that had followed her back to her dorm.

It had all become too much. She needed to get out.

It had occurred to her there was a certain amount of irony that she had taken refuge inside a bar. Not the one that she had beaten Scott to a pulp in – she was firmly banned from that establishment, but one across town. Away from campus and anyone who knew her. Camille tried not to pay too much mind to the fact that she was employing less than stellar coping mechanisms over the mess she had made of her life, but really, she was already on a roll of bad decisions. Why stop now?

Still...it was amazing how quickly everything had spiraled out of control.

One minute she had been a junior, set to finish her bachelor's degree with honors in the next year – now, with a court date set for next week and a meeting with the Dean's office tomorrow, it looked as if expulsion was on the horizon. And somehow that was at the bottom of her priority list. Felony assault and battery charges hovered over her head like an impending noose, not to mention, two parents infuriated with their daughter and the shame she had brought her family. She hardly cared that Scott was breathing from a tube in a hospital, she did care that Marnie hadn't called her.

Had she lost a friend as well as her academic career? She hadn't foreseen that... though, in truth, she hadn't put much thought into her actions. She had simply reacted and that – that wasn't like her.

"Penny for your thoughts, love."

Camille nearly jolted at the honey grizzled voice that chimed next to her table. She glanced up into a pair of oddly familiar cerulean eyes that shined curiously at her. It took her a moment to place him, and it was only as his lips curled into a self-satisfied smirk that she remembered.

He had been there.

Entertained by the entire debacle.

Now, that's what I call a show.

Her hidden ire rumbled in the face of her spectator. How she had hated his delight. It annoyed her that he had found her now when she wanted nothing more than to be left alone.

Pursing her lips distastefully, she arched a brow, "They're not for sale."

Her irritation was not lost on Klaus, if anything her dismissal amused him, "Come now, that's not true. Anything is for sale; it all depends on the price."'

"Well unless you have a time machine, I don't think you'll be able to afford my thoughts." Camille muttered wearily as she sipped from her glass. She pointedly turned her gaze away, making it silently clear she was done with him.

Yet, Klaus had never been one to let a challenge go untested. He found himself slipping into the chair across from her, much to Camille's exasperation, "Now why would you want a time machine? Please tell me, it's not to go back and stop yourself from beating that pillock from the other night half to death. Such passion should never be undone or regretted."

Camille arched a brow, nonplused by his words, "Not everyone views such acts of violence with the same enjoyment as you did... I don't believe that I invited you to sit. I'm not particularly in the mood for company."

"Yes, you've been quite rude." Klaus intoned almost cheerfully as he signaled for a waiter – now he was making it silently clear that he had no intention to leave, "That's alright, I don't mind a bit of surliness. I've been known to be a rather temperamental creature myself... but let's be honest here, love, while I may have enjoyed your spirited attack, you enjoyed committing it more."

She hated the truth that rang in his words. Stifling a sigh, Cami tossed back the rest of her drink and dropped a few bills on the table. She came here to get away, not to be harassed.

She wasn't granted the chance to stand as his fingers entrapped her wrist, "Let me go."

"Stay." Klaus implored, loosening his grip, but not removing his touch, "I won't speak of your little... incident if you do not wish it. I have several hours to kill, and you are by the far the most interesting person I've run into today. Please, keep me company."

Despite her desire to depart, her curiosity glimmered faintly at his words, "Is that why you seemingly tracked me down? Boredom?"

"Hardly tracked you down, love." Klaus said after placing an order for two more drinks with the waiter. "You're in the pub of my hotel. Merely, came downstairs and saw you."

Camille blinked before she sat back and viewed the bar through new eyes. There was an entranceway toward the back that she now realized led into a lobby. Marble floors and polished banisters gleamed through the glass door. It fairly screamed expensive. It also explained the quietness of a bar... the stillness that had drawn her inside.

Klaus watched her perusal with muted amusement, "You have no idea where you are. Not that you're in a bad neighborhood, mind you, but it is foolish to not have your bearings about you."

Camille silently stifled her unease as again his words rang true. A sense of danger lurked with his presence that she was only beginning to acknowledge, but something kept her survival instincts from fully sounding off.

"I wasn't really..." She trailed off as she realized her words would only reinforce his point about being foolish.

He knew it too.

His head tilted to the side and his eyes softened with an understanding that she swore he shouldn't have. It was similar to the way he had looked at her as she had been carted off by the police... Cami didn't understand why it had seemed to soothe and irritate her then, and she still didn't understand it now.

"Running away, were you?" Klaus intoned sagely, "I know a fair bit about that, but you don't strike me as the type to run from a situation. What demons plague you, aside from the obvious?"

Cami snorted and wondered if this counted as talking about her incident, but found herself replying, "Demons is a bit harsh... and why would I tell you, Nosey Stranger, anything about my demons?"

Klaus grinned and was stalled from answering as their drinks arrived, "Well conversation is easier when at least one party opens up, no? And you can call me Klaus. Niklaus Mikaelson."

"Cami." She returned softly, "Why don't we focus on you, instead? What brings you to my little corner of the word, Klaus?"

"I am not nearly that interesting."

"I somehow doubt that."

"Doubt all you like, but I could say the same of you."

"Could you?" Cami said almost teasingly as a smirk tugged at her lips.

Klaus huffed a low laugh as he conceded, "Well, I could if you told me about yourself."

They were flirting, Cami noted distantly as they exchanged not-quite-shy smiles again. Her head spun – how had this happened? She had been thoroughly annoyed with this man not even ten seconds ago. And while some of that sentiment still lurked, she now could only think about how handsome he looked when he smiled... actually smiled, not smirked.

One thing was for certain, she wasn't feeling quite so numb anymore... and she wasn't sure that was necessarily a good thing. Despite how handsome the man before her was or how charming he was turning out to be, she had the distinct impression that she was a match strike away from playing with fire.

"How about a question for a question?" She proposed almost absently and nearly cursed as soon as the words left her tongue.

Klaus considered her offer with shrewd eyes, "Any question?"

A reluctant sigh left Cami, "Let me guess, you have a question about Saturday night?"

"A few." Klaus acknowledged with a sly quirk to his lips, "But mainly one pressing one."

She shook her head and dragged the untouched drink he had bought her to her side. If they were going to play this game she would need the alcohol, "Fine. Ask."

"What did he do?" Klaus asked quietly as she hesitated, her glance almost suspicious – he explained, "In two minutes of conversation, I've ascertained that you are not a rash person. A bit foolhardy perhaps, but you've been moderately cautious since I've engaged your interest. You also don't strike me as the type to attack someone without reason. So, what was your reason? What did he do?"

There was a long silence as Camille gauged what she wanted to impart. Several glib answers rested on her tongue, non-answers that would dismiss his question and move their conversation on, but the truth burned in her throat. It would be nice to tell someone who didn't know her, who didn't know Scott or Marnie, who wasn't there to judge her actions as just or fair what her motivation had been...

"I have a roommate. We've roomed together the last three years – and she's great. Sweet, shy. I couldn't have picked a better roommate... or friend." Camille started quietly. She ignored the lick of angry flames that sparked in her belly, "She met him a few months ago and they hit it off immediately. I liked him. He was funny and he brought her out of her shell."

A wave of nausea swarmed her simmering fury and she paused as she remembered the carefree way Scott would greet her. The little presents that he would bring for Marnie. Those gifts seemed so more insidious now that she realized those parcels showed up after every incident.

Klaus waited patiently, somehow knowing not to speak as she sought the proper words. Her jade eyes had deepened to a sparking emerald, imbued with dark emotion.

"Then one day she came back to our room. Her shirt was covered in blood, a plaster taped over her nose, and two black eyes. He had hit her. Only once she said. It was an accident she said, but he broke her nose." Camille swallowed and resisted the urge to ball her fist, "She refused to go to the RA or the Dean or any other official and just waved me off. It wouldn't happen again, and I knew that was bullshit. I knew..."

The shiver of rage in her tone struck a chord within Klaus as he watched her. Any hint of his earlier joviality and curiosity had vanished in the face of her anguish. His own anger growled in answer to hers – he had never been one to shy away from violence, but brutish nonsensical abuse had always been and always would be a sore point for him.

"How many times?" The question slipped out before he could stop it.

If Camille had been paying closer attention, she would have noticed the almost eerie calm that had leveled his voice. Instead, she shook her head, "Too many."

Another sip from her glass, "He sent her to the hospital Friday night. Two broken ribs and a concussion. I had been with her all night, and I just couldn't go back to our dorm, so I wandered. I wandered and before I knew it, I was inside the campus bar and there he was... Scamming on a freshman. Both of them laughing at some stupid funny joke he had said, as if it were just another Saturday. As if he hadn't just pulverized his girlfriend and left her to rot in a hospital as if he hadn't been getting away with much of the same for months. I was so incredibly angry and all I wanted was to make him stop."

Warm skin brushed across hers and she glanced down to see he had cradled her hand. She was trembling. It was so faint, but the box that she had been stowing all her wildly out of control emotion into had been pried open with his question.

His fingers curled into her palm like an anchor into the seabed and she smiled bitterly, "Still think you received a good show?"

It took Klaus a second to remember his words from that night, but he didn't scowl.

No.

His smile was tinged with undue pride and awe, "I think you just made it even better. I had initially thought you to be some hellcat. Sent into a jealous rage at capturing your boyfriend cheating. The truth is far more satisfying. You're a protector. If anything, I stand by my earlier sentiment. Do not regret your actions, Camille."

She blinked at hearing her full name cross his lips, most assumed her name was Cameron when she introduced herself as Cami, "My name, how...?"

Klaus smirked, "Camille O'Connell, you are under arrest."

His voice was flat with an American intonation, but what part of America she was unsure as his little gimmick threw her from her despair into a baffled disquiet.

Slowly she cringed, "Okay, one – don't ever do that accent again. Just... no. Two – no one calls me, Camille, unless I'm in trouble. It's a grandma's name."

Klaus bit back a laugh as he pressed with his fake accent again, "What? You mean this voice? I think it's uh, rather convincing."

Camille shivered; it was almost like nails on a chalkboard when he spoke like that, but the tension her little story had engendered dissipated, and she felt a coil within her loosen.

She couldn't stop her snicker as she begged, "Stop, please. It's just not right. It doesn't fit you at all. Smarmy Brit is much more your style."

"Smarmy Brit?" Klause threw back almost indignantly, "You wound me, Camille."

"Somehow I think that's hard to do." She countered sagely, but she couldn't keep a grin from her mien. She appreciated his levity.

Klaus arched a brow, "You'd be surprised. Sometimes it doesn't take much at all to wound me."

"Oh?"

"A beautiful woman maligning my character five minutes after meeting me. Stings a bit, love." He answered indulgently, but there was a mischievous glint in his gaze that belied his words.

Cami giggled quietly, "You don't think you're smarmy?"

"I prefer the word charming." The faux innocent look he flashed her had them both grinning, "And I believe it is your turn to ask a question."

There were several that had erupted in her thoughts as they had spoken, but it was hard to choose just one. Part of Cami was grateful that he had lobbed such a hardball as a first question because it gave her clearance to do the same.

"What are you running away from? You said you had some experience with it earlier." Cami finally asked, figuring it would also answer the question of what he was doing here. Two answers for the price of one.

Like with Cami, Klaus sat in a long silence as he thought over his answer. Now he was the one who wished he had placed restrictions on these questions, but unlike Camille, he had no compunctions about lying. After all, they were still strangers, and he was still debating whether to continue their acquaintanceship after they parted ways. He had half a mind to seduce her, drink her, and dump her... but the more time he spent with her the less he wanted to dump her – at least right away. Camille was proving to be very intriguing indeed.

"Family. I'm running from family." Klaus announced, surprising even himself with the truth, "More specifically my father... though my brother is currently a close second."

Camille frowned, not liking the shine of pain in his eyes before he shifted to something more blank, more superficial. Perhaps her question wasn't the gem she had originally thought it to be.

At her muted concern, Klaus smiled bitterly, "My father has no love for me. Even less after it was discovered I was a product of my mother's infidelity. He's been bent on making my life a misery for as long as I can remember. The more distance I can put between him and myself the better."

"And your brother?" Cami pressed almost reluctantly, at once curious and hesitant about requesting such personal information.

"Has a great love for me actually and I, him. But I've... upset him and he needs some time to calm down." It was the most tactful way that Klaus could think to say Elijah was furious with him for daggering their siblings and supposedly dumping their bodies into the ocean. While the first part was true, the second was not... and he was not prepared for his older brother to discover that fact just yet.

An odd mildly entertained expression crossed Camille's face as she puzzled over his words. More questions surged to the forefront, but with great control, she managed to restrain herself... at least for the moment.

Klaus seemed to sense her desire as he cocked his head to the side and grinned, or she was simply terrible at hiding her thoughts, "You want more details."

Almost embarrassingly, she sipped from her glass as she fought a sheepish smile, "I really do."

"And you called me nosey? Sorry, love, you're just going to have to wait." He taunted lightly as she scowled at him.

He was saved from her retort as her phone chose that moment to sound off. Her previous merriment dulled in the face of the device's alarm and fell further as she glanced at the screen. Klaus watched as she reluctantly clicked the phone silent after responding with a text and turned remorseful eyes to him. This would be their parting it seemed.

"Such a dour glance. My last question then, who's beckoning you?" Klaus asked gently, an unexpected jolt of jealousy scoured his veins at her answer.

"My boyfriend." She quirked her lips self-consciously. She had no obligation to inform him of her relationship status and their conversation while personal, had always meant to stay a conversation... at least on her end. Yet, she felt a strange sense of guilt – she felt like she had led him on, "I should be going. It was nice to meet you, Klaus... and thank you for the drink."

Klaus tightened his grip over her hand, both had forgotten he had still been holding it, but now it worked in his favor. He wasn't ready for their conversation to end, "Stay, Camille. By the look on your face, it's what you would rather be doing."

Timidly, she squeezed his hand back, but her rueful smile told him that he was fighting a losing battle. He was tempted to compel her... but somehow that felt like the wrong move for this particular moment.

"He's worried about me. Everyone's worried about me. Or angry. This was a nice reprieve. One I really needed, but I have to go before that worry goes to def-con four." She said almost deprecatingly and moved to stand.

Cami was surprised when he stood with her until she felt him slip her phone from her other hand. A word of protest played on her lips at the theft, but she stayed her tongue as she watched him deftly enter his phone number. It was slightly embarrassing that he had caught her passcode pattern so easily. He must have the eyes of a hawk. He hit the call button and his phone vibrated in his pocket for a moment before going silent again.

Klaus returned her phone with a genial smile, "There. Should you need another reprieve, simply call. I'll be in town for a while and more than happy to indulge you."

"That was bold." She murmured, "Giving your number to a girl who just told you, she has a boyfriend."

He shrugged indifferently, "Fortune favors the bold, does it not?"

Cami snorted and shook her head, "Goodbye, Klaus."

"Goodbye, Camille." Klaus murmured, brushing his lips to her cheek.

The act startled her and brought a lovely blush to her smooth skin. He had no intention of this being their last encounter. Camille O'Connell would see him again. His cerulean eyes danced deviously as he watched her turn to go.

She glanced at him over her shoulder, and he was surprised to see a puckish light in her sylvan gaze, "Definitely smarmy."

Klaus choked on an unexpected laugh before he found himself calling through the pub, "Charming, love."

______________________

Hours later, Klaus remained at the little corner table in the pub. He had steadily nursed several drinks as he kept an eye out for a potential dinner – finding himself feeling pickier than usual about his fare. He was tempted to send Camille a text. She had been reluctant enough to leave that enticing her to return shouldn't have been much of a battle. He regretted not pressing his advantage earlier. They could have spent the afternoon in his bed, sated in every possible way.

Sighing in boredom, he ran an idle finger around the rim of his tumbler generating a low hum. His thoughtless gesture brought a few curious and annoyed looks from the nearby patrons, but no one had the gall to say anything. Something dark and angry lingered in Klaus's stiff presence that discouraged social interaction of any kind.

"Well, you look positively morose."

And yet not all were so cowardly.

Klaus smirked at the amused lilt that sounded behind him. He arched a brow as he awarded the young woman behind him a small smile, "Greta... you've arrived sooner than I expected. Fruitful day, love?"

"Yes and no." Greta answered loftily as she came to stand next to the table, "The witch we're looking for is proving rather difficult to scrounge up, though her boyfriend has been the source of a lot of gossip but..."

"But?" Klaus intoned softly, a dangerous edge tinging his voice. His mood for games had dissipated with the sun.

"He's in the hospital. Unconscious, someone caved his head in apparently. He would need some of your blood to be revived enough to get any information from him." She smirked, knowing how much Klaus loved to do such things, "That is if you're feeling generous."

Niklaus frowned; it would be too convenient... "What's the boyfriend's name?"

"Scott Nebroski." Greta answered simply with a raised brow.

The name had no meaning to Klaus. Camille hadn't mentioned any names when she had recounted her motives to him – and he didn't recall a name being spoken when the paramedics had arrived at the campus pub. Though to be fair, he had lost interest in the whole affair once Camille had been taken to the squad car.

Her fiery emeralds would forever be etched into his memory. There had been a moment where he had thought that she'd break from the officer's grasp and swing at him before something fragile... vulnerable had crossed her gaze and he had to fight the urge to go to her.

It had been an odd night.

"When was he attacked?"

Greta shrugged, "A couple of nights ago, I think. Some chick took a beer bottle to him. A lover's quarrel is the rumor. In which case, it should make him more willing to cooperate with us. He'd probably be looking for a little revenge."

A slow grin spread across Klaus's face – what were the odds?

"It wasn't our little witch who tore into him, love." Klaus murmured, "How long would we need to wait before you could conduct the ceremony?"

"The estival solstice isn't for almost eight weeks, that's when the spell will be at its strongest. We have some time." Greta replied softly as she watched the wheels spin in her master's head. She hadn't expected him to take the news of this current delay so well... but the calm, almost pleased smile playing at his lips spoke to plans with which she had no knowledge of, "The boyfriend?"

"He can enjoy his stay in the hospital for a while." Klaus said after a long moment. He refused to heal the cretin that had rightfully earned his beating at Camille's hands. He would not deny her victory, "Tomorrow I want you and Maddox to find out everything you can about Camille O'Connell. She's Marnie Taylor's roommate and friend... she'll lead us to our little witch."

Gently, Klaus reached out for Greta's hand, bringing her delicate fingers to his mouth as he pressed a kiss to her smooth flesh. He was feeling a tad grateful for the news she had delivered him, and she smelled sweet, like honeysuckle and ivy. His fangs edged at the inner muscle of his cheek, reinforcing his hunger... but he wouldn't bite her here.

Klaus stood and placed a few bills on the table, "Keep me company tonight."

It sounded like a request, but Greta heard the implied order to his tone. She could say no, and Klaus wouldn't bat an eye. She was under no illusion that she was more than a tool in his arsenal. Problem was, she had never been able to say no to him. Not to his power, not to his hunger, and not to his bed. She fully enjoyed being possessed by him. It was the shame that she could not possess him.

She peered slyly at him, "Merely company?"

An indulgent hum purred from Klaus's throat before he pressed his lips teasingly to the corner of her mouth, "You could never be merely anything, love... but I desire this luscious mouth of yours to be otherwise occupied."

Greta's smile turned sinful, "As you wish."

He breathed a kiss to her neck before turning to escort her upstairs. His soul ached for a taste of the hunt... something that Greta could not provide him – she was all too willing to fall into his clutches. She was decadence, chocolate, and champagne. Simply divine.

For tonight she would sate his baser urges, but tomorrow...

Tomorrow he would go after that which was not yet his. Fiery emeralds glinted in his mind's eye. Tomorrow, he would go after whiskey and smoke. Hidden passion.

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[msmarvelwrites]

The Winter Ghost - Part 5

Info: A Devastating car crash causes you to lose your memory and start over. The only thing left in the wreckage was the horrific nightmares which plagued your mind. If you knew what today would entail you would have just stayed in bed. But you didn't and because of that, everything you knew was about to change.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/n

Warning: language, PTSD, anxiety, violence, fluff.

W/c: 3.5K ish

A/n : oooh getting serious. Im having so much fun writing this you guys! Shout out to @cutie1365​ for all her support! Go read her fic A Kid From Queens, but dont say I didnt warn you. Its addicting! 

Everything happened really fast after that day in the common room with Wanda. Shuri worked tirelessly in the lab trying to develop a softer approach to bringing back your memories. She believed if she could restore them fully, we would have the last piece of the puzzle.

Becoming the perfect war machine seemed like the most obvious use for the serum, but Steve reminded you Hydra always had something up their sleeve.

You really enjoyed living in Wakanda. Most days were spent in the gym training. Trying to harness the team's abilities was not so enjoyable. You worked with Wanda most. It helped that you were only 4 years older than her. She was younger than most of the team and had a dark past that seemed to mirror yours.

Most of your nights consisted of you, Wanda and Nat settling into the couch and cheesy eighties movies on the plasma TV. Bucky would often come out of his room and sit with you.

You really enjoyed Bucky's energy. Something about him just drew you to him. Maybe it was his smile, or the way he smelled like mint and nicotine, or that he read the newspaper and drank black coffee in the mornings. You weren't sure. One thing was for certain, the more time you spent together, the harder it became to leave him. Bucky would tell you about his past and how he used to have to bail little 'Stevie' out of bar fights and ally brawls every other day. He made you laugh like no one really did. When he told you about his time with Hydra and how they would control his mind you would rake your fingers through his hair and whisper to him he wasn't alone anymore.

As the days melted into weeks, the horrific nightmares began to grow legs. It was one of the many side effects from Shuri’s digging. Some days it felt like Hydra knew you would try to remember and this was their fail-safe. Every time you began to drift off you'd see Tommys pale face, blood oozing from the corner of his mouth. You swear, right before he stumbled off the edge of the bridge you saw him say something. You could never remember when you woke, nor could you recall any other detail other than Tommy. It felt wrong. You felt wrong. Like he wasn't yours to grieve.

One particular bad night, you remember waking up screaming. Your whole body felt like it was on fire as your tears seared down your cheeks. The only thing that grounded you after that was the small knock that echoed from the other side of your door.

“Hey, doll. Let me in?” His voice was soft and smooth and the only thing that seemed to bring you back to the dimly lit bedroom. You stared at the ceiling for a solid minute before slowly rising and crossing the room. Gently, you opened the door just a crack and looked up. There stood a sleepy-eyed Bucky. He sported a baggy pair of grey sweats and an old beat up tank, his arms on full display. In normal circumstances, you believed that that was enough to knock you out of any state. You wondered if Bucky knew the effect he had on people. Or worse, if he knew the effect he had on you.

“Can't sleep, keep me company?” He spoke, huskily. You could tell he had just woken up. Sleep still clouded his eyes, and the yawn he tried to stifle gave him away. You appreciate what he was trying to do, so instead of calling the man out, you opened the door, and welcomed the Super Soldier in.

You talked for hours that night. He didn't ask about your nightmare, which you appreciated. You had recited the images to Shuri about thirty times in the past week. It was the only memory that seemed to come back. It replayed over and over on a continuous loop through your mind. This moment with Bucky was a welcomed break.

“Can I ask you somethin’?” You finally spoke. Bucky and you had found your way onto your bed at some point. His right arm draped around your shoulder, as you leaned on his chest. He cracked his neck to look down at you.

“Of course.” He offered, shifting onto his side so he could really look at you.

“Does it ever stop? I’m so exhausted, all I want to do is sleep but I- I'm so scared. I don’t want to see it again… What if it never-” Your voice broke off, shutting your eyes tight to stop a tear from escaping.

“Hey, hey. You're not alone anymore. Remember? I went through it and came out the other side. And look how well adjusted I am.” Bucky smirked, sarcasm laced his last remark. You couldn't help but smile at that. You didn't know if anyone but you and Steve really knew how funny he was. Maybe he liked it that way. Maybe he was only that way with you? You knew it had been awhile since Bucky had really been this way around others. It warmed your heart how quickly the two of you got along.

“Listen to me, doll.” He started, seriously, lowering his stare to meet yours.

“I’ll be here. Whenever you need me. I know what it's like, to feel out of control. To feel like a prisoner in your own body. To answer your question, yeah I think it gets better. I mean,” He paused then, looking you up and down in a way that made you blush. He started again, words laced with that old Brooklyn charm the ladies used to love. Granted, that worked back in 1940 - something and he had been out of the game for quite a while.

“I’m in bed with a smart, complicated, frankly beautiful dame. I’d say it gets better, wouldn't you?” He gently tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. His touch sent shivers down your spine. Bucky's stormy eyes bore into yours making your breath hitch in your throat. There was a moment, so brief that when you recanted the memory you weren't sure it really happened. But you thought maybe for just a second he wanted to-  

“Up and at it, Y/n! Training starts at 0700!” Caps voice droned through your bedroom door suddenly, knocking you out of your thoughts and back to the bed you resided on. Your hand reached out for Bucky, who since that night spent most beside you. He would stay with you until you fell asleep and more often than not, when you woke, he’d be beside you, fast asleep. His side of the bed was cold, however. He had been up for a while.

You looked at your phone on the nightstand. 6:15 am it read. You groaned, rubbing your hands over your face and slinking out of bed. Pain screamed from your muscles as you opened the bathroom door. Carefully, you started the shower, steam quickly filled the room and calmed your aching bones. You stepped in and autobly signed.

Fifteen minutes later you met the rest of the team in the kitchen. You couldn't help but notice Bucky wasn't in attendance. Everyone looked like they had been awake for hours while your wet hair was pulled up in a messy knot on top of your head. Nat was pouring herself a cup of coffee when she noticed you come in. She smirked, instantly grabbing another mug and gesturing to the pot in her hands. You nodded quickly. ‘Coffee fixed most everything’. That's what Your Dad used to tell you before he left for work and you lived by that.

“Look who's finally up…” Cap announced. You had no idea how he was so chipper in the mornings. Even the sound of his booming voice made you cringe. The man must have coffee running through his veins. Maybe that should be Hydra’s next serum idea…

“I have risen. Just for you, Rogers.” You muttered sarcastically, taking the mug of coffee from Nat. You smiled and mouthed thank you, taking a big swig. Ugh, you grimaced, swallowing the brown substance much to your dismay. You didn't know what this brown water was but it definitely wasn't coffee.

Wanda laughed at your disgusted face, "It's decaf, Y/n '' she rolled her eyes, "Cap thinks decaf is better for the team. That coffee will mess with our 'performance' or whatever." She shrugged. What's even the point? You thought.

“Excuse me young lady.” Cap began, scolding Wanda like she was his teenager. Wanda smirked, turning towards his voice.

“Young lady?” Nat mocked her friend, nudging him out of the way as she reached for the piece of toast she had put in the toaster. She took a bite and over chews laughed, “You're really aging yourself, Cap.” She finished, hoisting herself up onto the kitchen island beside you.

You really liked Natasha. You thought she must have been the most beautiful person you'd ever met. Her red hair always curled around her soft features perfectly. You honestly didn't know how a human could look that perfect and be so deadly. Over the past few weeks, Nat had taught you a lot. You mostly trained with Captain Rogers and Wanda, but occasionally Nat would step in. She was small in stature, but she helped you learn how to use that to your advantage.

“What’cha say we go get some real coffee, babe?” Nat nudged you with a small smile. You looked up at her with a wide eye gaze. She truly was a hero.

“God, yes please.” You beamed as she jumped off the island.

“If you're skipping out on training then count me in! I” Wanda chimed.  Rogers looked frustrated as the three of you started towards the door.

“Nat, you heard what Shuri said. Y/n cannot leave the premises until we know what she's fully capable of. She’s dangerous.” Cap stated firmly, but unmoved from the kitchen. You looked at the floor uncomfortably. He was right. You were a ticking time bomb. You all knew it. Shuri explained with the presence of the nightmares it was only a matter of time before something snapped. And no one really knew how that would look when it happened. For the most part, everyone treated you like a normal person. An honorary member of the team. But Rogers often reminded you that you were anything but. Just an experiment and a means to an end.

"Comeon' y/n. I know a place we can get some real coffee."  Nat spoke, louder than Cap. Venom seeped from her words as she glared at the Captain. She shook her head disapprovingly. Wanda took your hand, pulling you gently out of the kitchen. When you touched you felt your skin sizzle, absorbing the power that surged through her body. You made a conscious effort to steady your breathing and push her power to the back of your mind. As you left you heard Natasha’s booming voice coming from behind you but decided to ignore it, as the two of you headed for the garage.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Steve?” Nat snapped at him. Steve opened his mouth and closed it trying to find the right words. “She’s a person, you ass! You can't keep treating her like some unhinged science experiment. She’s just a person. Just like me. Just like Bucky.”

“She’s nothing like Bucky!” He thundered. Nat took a step back, snaking her head disapprovingly. “I can’t keep thinking, what if we had it wrong. I mean, she can’t remember anything. What if her memories come back and she's not really on our side. I don't think we thought this through, Nat.” He huffed, running his hands over his face in frustration.

“I trust her, Steve. Bucky trusts her.” She started, taking a few steps closer to him. He shook his head in annoyance and scoffed.

“Bucky thinks the girl’s a doll. He’s totally smitten, that doesn't count. I think the guy would trust anything she said at this point-”

“Do you trust me?” Nat snapped, a brow arched, hands on her hips. Stever huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You know I do, but-” He began.

“Then it's settled. You gotta’ let the girl out. She's been locked up here for weeks. I promise, I’ll keep her safe. Besides, I’m getting pretty tired of her stealing my clothes. Coffee, and shopping and then we’ll be back, yeah?” Nat offered, voice dripping with sweetness. She knew she had won this battle. She always did.

“Two hours, Romanoff. That's all you get.” Steve grumbled. Nat smirked, rolling her eyes and spinning on her heel to meet you and Wanda in the garage.

“See ya later, Grandpa. Don't wait up.” She offered over her shoulder. Steve only shook his head and chuckled, hoping desperately he hadn't made a huge mistake.

Nat strutted victoriously out of the kitchen, and almost ran right into Bucky's large frame. She stumbled back, regaining her balance quickly. Bucky raised one brow curiously.

“Where ya’ going in such a hurry?” He asked, watching her carefully.

“I’m taking your girl out for a much needed shopping trip. Anything particular you'd like to see her in?” She quipped, sarcastically, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Bucky choked on a cough, clearing his throat and trying to turn it into a laugh. He failed, of course.

“I- ah, I don't know what- uh, what?” He finally got out. Nat smirkled, and patted him on his stiff chest. It was literally too easy. The man was such a ball of stress. Nat thought it was honestly cute. She’s never seen Bucky like this before. Nervous and blushing. She thought you were really good for him. Maybe you’ll finally take that stick out of his ass. She thought with a smirk.

“Have a nice day, Sergeant.” She cooed, pushing past his rigid body leaving Bucky in shock.

“You ready, babies?” Nat grinned, putting the key in the Jeep’s ignition. You sat in the back seat while Wanda sat in the passenger, both nodding vigorously.

“For the love of coffee!” You shouted, pointing forward. Both women laughed and with that you took off.

……………………...

You practically skipped through the Wakanda market. Beautiful earthy colours melted into the scenery practically taking your breath away. Wanda and Nat had stopped at a small coffee shop, but you wandered around, looking at the beautiful handmade clothing. The smoky smell of something cooking from a nearby street grill filled your senses. It was complex, sweet and spicy and sour all at once. It made your mouth water. Foreign and delicious. You followed the smell to a small hutch where people gathered around, eating and laughing.

“Beautiful isn't it? How food brings us all together.” A man spoke beside you. You recognized him as T’Challa, Shuri’s older brother and also the man who is letting you and your new friends stay in Wakanda. You had only really met him in passing, but never really spoke. Bucky always describes him as a kind, gracious friend. You smiled up at him.

“It is… Really beautiful.” You repeated.

“How are you liking Wakanda, Y/n?” He asked. His voice was deep and rich. Almost melodic. Just by speaking he had commanded the attention of the people around you. The new eyes on the two of you made you feel uneasy and small, but you took a deep breath and relaxed yourself.

“It's so gorgeous here. Thank you for having me, T’Challa.” You spoke his name and it made him smile. You froze unsure if that was the right thinking to call him. He was the King, sort of, but Bucky had always referred to him by his given name.

“Breath, my friend. You have nothing to fear here. You are with good people. Your friend Bucky speaks very highly of you. And any friend of the Sergeants is a friend of mine.” He voiced, placing a warm hand on your shoulder as you relaxed. From behind him you could see Nat and Wanda walking towards you. Wanda waved chaotically making you smile.

An old beat-up SUV made a loud popping noise as it pulled up somewhere behind you. The noise made you shudder. The familiar sound of gunshots rang through your ears as you grabbed your head, trying to make the noise stop. You looked to T’Challa who seemed only concerned, reaching out a hand to steady you.

“Is everything okay, Y/n?” He spoke, trying to gage what was wrong by your actions. The loud deady blows echoed through your head, unrelenting as a scream erupted through the crowd. You weren't sure if you had made the noise of if it was someone else. Everything seemed to fade away and your vision became blurry.

“Y/n, Y/n! Can you hear me?!” You heard a woman yell over the crowd. You tried to focus on her voice, but it was too late. Everything suddenly went black and you felt your body go numb.

You woke up in the dark cement room that plagued your nightmares. A man's eerie voice echoed off the walls.

“Еще раз!” Again! He shouted. Usually when you relieved these memories you didn't know what the man was saying.  But for some reason, this time your brain was translating for you. You didn’t question it as you looked around the room. You felt your body scream as an excruciating electric shock ripped through you. Tears burned down your face as you begged incoherently for it to stop. As fast as it came on, the shock stopped, and you could breathe again.

“Ты сама во всем виновата, дитя мое.” You brought this on yourself, my child. The man cooed, wiping a bead of sweat that ran down your forehead. You winced at his touch, the feeling of him on you making you nauseous.

“Если бы ты только сделал то, о чем тебя пр��сили. Если бы вы только слушали. Может быть, все было бы по-другому, хотя я сомневаюсь в этом.” If only you had done what you were asked. If only you have listened. Maybe things would be different, though, I doubt it. He spat, chuckling as he motioned for the other outside of view to start again.

“Please, don’t do this, Zemo. Обещаю. Возьми мою память. Заставь меня забыть, только не делай этого.” I promise. Take my memory. Make me forget, just don't do this. You begged. You tried to move your arms but they were secured down. The man only laughed at your feeble attempt, building a rage inside of you.

“Oh, don't you worry, мой ребенок. All in due time. When I’m done with you, you won't remember your own name.” He grinned a crooked smile as the machine you laid in whirled on again, sending a volt of electricity through your body. You clenched your teeth and stifled another scream.

Your eyes burst open, scolded by the sun and the tears that now streamed down your face. Gasping for air you tried to sit up, but your body shrieked with pain. On your left Nat sat beside you, Wanda was on your right holding a phone to her ear yelling something you couldn't quite make out.  Your breath slowly began to return and the sunspots in your vision cleared. You looked around, the market was now almost empty but the small street grill was now billowing with smoke and flame. Nat helped you up, body still aching. You looked around, horrified by the mess that was once the lively market.

“Are you okay, Y/n” Nat started, her hands on either side of your arms. You blinked at her, terrified.

“What happened?” You asked, horrified to actually know the answer. She gave you a nervous look and tucked a loose hair behind her ear.

“It wasn't your fault, Y/n. No one was hurt, everyone got out. It’s going to be okay.”

“It most certainly is not going to be okay!” Captain Rogers' voice boomed from behind the three of you. Wanda spun around startled, while you just hung your head low. Whatever lashing he was going to give you, you deserved. It couldn't be any worse than what Zemo had done…  You paused, eyes a gape.

“Oh my God.” You gasped, alerting the others. Steve looked at her angrily, impatient for your next words.

“I remember something… I think- I think I remember who did this to me.” You choked out, eyes glassy as you remembered for the first time the man who made you a monster.

................................

A/N: Thank you for reading! Hope all have a great weekend! As always, feel free to leave me feedback! My inbox is always open!

@projectcampbell​

[tiredspacedragon]

Okay. I think I understand what's happening here. I was typing up a big long response with lots of detail, and long explanations of my viewpoints, but I realized it was all kinda pointless.

Because no matter what I said you would not be satisfied, and here's why:

If it wasn't in the movies or TV series, it wasn't canon, so I won't talk about that.

Again, how the Jedi praticed the Force and how George Lucas described it is the same.

The two of us are looking at this story through very different lenses.

You are someone who closely values George Lucas' vision, and I am not, that's what it boils down to. You react to the text based on how well it correlates with that initial intention, I react to it based on the context of the story itself as it has been written both by Lucas and by the various other people who have added their creative voices to the story, and my own life experience.

And there's nothing wrong with how you engage with the story! If that's what brings you enjoyment, then good, keep it up! I admire your dedication.

But there's also nothing wrong with the way I interpret the story. And I won't waste my limited time and energy on arguing the validity of my reading with someone who won't afford me the same respect I give them.

Now, since I can't help myself, I will summarize the main points I was going to make, and you can read through them if you want and react to them as you see fit. Or don't. What ever flies your ship.

Picking and choosing what counts as canon means we basically fundamentally cannot agree with each other on this.

Given what was in some of those temples (and that's just ones we know about), I don't really care why they left. Abandoning them was a mistake. And the fact those outposts existed in the first place proves the Jedi had use for them. The fact that their purpose is lost even to the Jedi in-story is Not Good.

The sheer size of the galaxy is more reason for the Jedi to be more spread out. How could having at least a few major sites across the galaxy make them less effective than having just one right in the middle?

Keeping all the kids in one place ultimately did not protect them though. Having multiple schools across the galaxy would have forced Palpatine to organize a coordinated strike on every location at once, which would have been far less effective overall.

I disagree that dividing the initiates would have decreased diversity. A large group of children growing up in one place and learning from the same group of instructors is going to end up far more homogeneous than multiple smaller groups growing up in different places, immersed in different cultures, and each learning from different instructors, no matter how many guest lecturers they have.

Some of the Lumerians and the villagers on Felucia criticized the Jedi in the same way. To them, Jedi only appeared in times of violence and crisis. Same for Trace and Rafa. They didn't dislike Jedi solely because of Palpatine's propaganda, they disliked them because the Jedi were seen as high-and-mighty agents of the Republic, not servants of the people, as they should have been. I believe they should have been a more community-oriented presence rather than acting mostly on behalf of the Senate.

Don't accuse me of victim blaming and then turn around and blame the Republic's citizens for "accepting" the Empire. That's not classy.

I know perfectly well what attachment means in Star Wars. I just happen to think "attachment" was an awful word to use to describe it and that it has lead to a murky portrayal of the concept with excellent highs (Anakin understanding the theory but being unable to separate his love for Padme from his attachment to her in practice) but equally devastating lows (Ahsoka and Luke's tonal whiplash as they went from very loving people to distant masters who preached the no attachment rule without explaining what it actually meant, thus muddying their characters and the intended moral lesson in the process).

Yoda was obviously calling out Obi-Wan (who missed it entirely, poor dear) but that doesn't mean what he said wasn't also true in the broader context.

I said Anakin's attitude caused ripples, not that he was hated. Don't put a whole paragraph of words in my mouth.

Once again, I have never said nor insinuated that the genocide of the Jedi was their own fault, despite how determined you are to claim I have. What I have said is that they were not perfect and had some shortcomings, some substantial, that Palpatine took advantage of and deliberately worsened as part of his plan to destroy them.

And for the record, the extermination of a fictional, powerful, government sanctioned religious order of warrior-monks is very different from the genocide of a real-world marginalized religious minority. The literary parallel is clear, but the context is massively different, and should be allowed to be discussed without people using a real tragedy to criticize people talking about a fictional event in a way they don't like.

Palpatine used the Jedi's wishy-washy stance on politics to maneuver them into a no-win scenario, took advantage of their over-centralization to kill many of them in a single attack, exploited their distance from the populace to turn public opinion against them and reduce them to myth in just 19 years, and took advantage of their diminished ability to use the Force (Mace's words, not mine) to do it all right under their noses.

"How? Give examples and screenshots." "Proof of his closed-mindness?" *ahem* no (:

I do not owe you my time or effort, nor do I need to justify myself to you because you don't like my opinion. You're lucky I've given you this. Don't push it.

Luke throwing away his lightsaber was him choosing the Jedi way of compassion and non-violence, rejecting the cycle of hatred and killing that Palpatine began. Attachment would not become a talking point until the prequel trilogy.

I've read that post you linked before. It's a good read. Does not change that Luke acting uncharacteristically distant while preaching the no-attachment rule only serves to muddy the portrayal of him and the concept more, or the fact that I straight up disagree with some of George Lucas' philosophical takes and think the directions other people have taken the story at times are better.

Anyway, that's it from me. I'm going to choose the Jedi way of peace and go do something else now. May the Force be with you, have a nice life

Darth Maul on Obi-Wan Kenobi +

Perception of the Jedi by their Enemies

Darth Maul has a very consistent strategy when trying to bring down Obi-Wan. Which is attack somewhere, put innocent people in danger. Kenobi being the annoying knight he is will come running to save them. Than kill him when he is busy being a good person.

1-Raydonia 2-Satine 3-Mandalore 4-Luke

(He didn't personally go in the third one but he sent Ahsoka. And he put himself in great risk by authorizing the Siege. This action was illegal.)

The best part is Maul is completely aware what he is doing. He acknowledges this many times.

Your noble flaw is a weakness shared by you and your duchess.

I was expecting Kenobi. Why are you here?

I am lost... And yet, I-I can feel his presence, so close. So close! I can... see him... in my mind's eye. Kenobi. KENOBIIIII!... Will it end here, like this? No. NO! I must draw kenobi out, tempt his noble heart. But how, how?... I know... I know.

His plans literally revolves around Obi-Wan having a noble heart. Which is one of the reasons Maul sees it as a flaw. Because it leaves someone vulnerable to wicked people like Maul.

This isn't even a specific Maul & Obi-Wan thing. We can find many examples of people trying to use Jedi's virtue against them. The Jedi seem to have a reputation in the galaxy as highly virtuous people.

Examples:

Admiral Trench specifically bombarding Senator Organa's refugee camps because he believes this will force Republic Army to engage him. (Tell me again how Republic was as bad as the CIS)

Zygerrian slavers method of enslaving and attempting to control Jedi was hurting innocents every time they showed defiance.

Admiral Trench makes this gamble again in the last season but with the worst person he could choose.

This is a good reference to other scenes and quotes. Reusing the word "nobility" was definitely trying to make a contrast between Trench & Anakin with Maul & Obi-Wan.

It really shows how much Anakin has diverted from what a Jedi should be. He even calls nobility a flaw like Maul does.

☀️☀️☀️

Inspiration for this post came when after seeing some bewildering takes on Obi-Wan, my first thought was:

"Man, even Maul would find these claims ridiculous. No one in star wars has any delusions of Kenobi being evil or corrupt to the degree they imagine."

Things spiraled from there. I ended up finding many evidences of this in canon. Like this quote ⬇️

Why come to this place, not simply to hide?... Oh, you have a purpose here.

I love this one. Maul knows Kenobi is not one to abandon his duty or ideals. Which means if he is on Tatooine he must have some some kind of mission here.

☀️☀️☀️

All of this resulted in creating a hilarious picture because,

I can't believe Admiral Trench and Zygerrians have a more positive perception of the Jedi than many fans of Star Wars.

And people are really out there making Darth freaking MAUL look like a fan. You know it has gone too far when even Maul (the og hater) can't agree with such horrible takes.

I must draw Kenobi out, tempt his noble heart.

[mistwraiths]

2 stars

Apologies for the blurry picture but I couldn't seem to find a good one. The Crown of Gilded Bones is the third book in the From Blood and Ash series. I want everyone to know I'll be putting on my clown makeup after I post this review because despite rating the first two books low and having issues with them, I somehow deluded myself into thinking this one might be better! It wasn't and dare I say it I think this was the worst one by far.

I'm genuinely trying to find something good about this book ot at least something I really enjoyed. I do like that the books pick up right where the last book ends up. The first few chapters are pretty exciting. Around page 600, the last few chapters are fast paced and things are happening. Other than that, I can't really think of anything I really liked about the book.

Crown of Gilded Bones majorly suffers, like its predecessors, in the same four ways. Being too long, repetition, world information and building, and nothing important to the central story or plot happening for huge chunks of pages.

I firmly believe that all the books were half their length and the story beats were quicker coming and longer, it would be far more enjoyable. Instead you're forced to slog through inner monologues that don't add anything new, Poppy getting dressed by Casteel, showers, and other mundane parts. I thought knowing that it would be slow would help me enjoy the book but nope. The whole deciding to go to the realm of the gods literally doesn't happen until nearly the end of 500 pages in.

The worst part about the book being far too long and nothing happening is that when something does happen, it gets rehashed several times to the point where I, as a reader, am exhausted about reading about talking about it. I'm a big lover of communication. I love it when characters who are working together or are together tell each other important information and trust each other, but this is different. Once something happens, it gets talked about it detail for a handful of chapters, usually lasting longer than the actual event itself, and then is brought up again to go over, and then again. It's frustrating because I just want to move on but the story is so determined to go over everything again.

That's not the only instances of repetition. I know authors tend to reuse certain words over again. SJM and her "croon" and "toes curl" and "barked/roared". I can forgive stuff. I can look over Jennifer's constant use of dimples. The honeydew part is the most disgusting. I don't care what flavor Poppy's vagina is. There's a difference when it comes to the same thing happening with the near similar responses/situations being used over and over again as an attempt in humor but it falls flat after its been used several times. I'm talking about the "I have a question" "No one is surprised by that" parts and the Poppy being prone to violence makes Casteel horny and Poppy has to be like you're disturbing. If it showed up once or twice after the initial one, I could get over it. But it's reused every so many chapters. If it's an attempt at humor, it is a poor one.

This book is number three in a series and this book is still chock-full of world building and world information. I could possibly forgive it since I suppose at the start Jennifer didn't plan for a big fantasy series, but it's too much. There's so much information being crammed at you and it's in a very obvious way. Poppy asks and Kiernan or Casteel answers. That's pretty much the only way Poppy and the reader learns anything. At this point, I feel like I need a glossary and timeline because there is so much information.

In fact, despite nothing happening, l don't know how it still feels that there is a lot going on. There's the Solis problem. There's the Poppy should be queen problem. There's the people have concerns of Poppy being queen. There's the Unseen problem. Another Dark One problem? Poppy's lineage/past mystery. Something about waking up the Consort? And a little bit more. It's a lot.

In the second book, I liked Poppy (sort of), Casteel, and Kiernan. However, I find myself not liking any of them that much. From personality to saying similar things, they all feel very much the same character. There's not much difference in personalities or dialogue. About the only difference is that Kiernan is cool, Poppy is compassionate when it suits the narrative, and Casteel is protective. Other than that, there's not much of a difference between any of them.

Poppy is pretty much the same as always. Massively overpowered and incredibly special, doesn't know anything about her world that she lives in, and somehow despite being so special and powerful, she's kidnapped and hurt and then levels up again. We are forcefully spoon-fed how Poppy is so strong, so beautiful, so intelligent and clever. I haven't found one instance that I've been wow that was smart. Poppy's powers she inherently knows how to use perfectly the moment she gets them.

There's also almost no female interactions or female friendships with Poppy. Tawny was barely there in the first one but when she surprisingly shows up here, she's immediately rendered injured and unconscious. We're told Vonetta and Poppy are friends, but there's been almost no interactions. Vonetta gave her clothes once and then delivered a message later. Is that a basis for friendship? Vonetta eventually falls in a hole and Poppy saves her. That's about it. Ileana and Eloana are both older motherly types but also significant worrisome individuals for Poppy internally. Again, there's like one conversation each with them individually. Lyra is introduced to us by giving Kiernan a blow job but no interactions. Hisa and Nova are soldiers but no interactions. It's even mentioned that female draken are rare, but I'd argue that female characters are exceptionally rare. It's ridiculous. It's like there isn't any female that's allowed to have a moment of spotlight or competency other than Poppy. Poppy also has a moment of nastiness that's out of character when she threatens a woman who admitted to her that she had no interest in Casteel and Casteel had said the same and he wasn't interested in her, and she threatens to rip her limb from limb. It's so sudden and startlingly and leaves a terrible taste in my mouth.

As for Casteel, I no longer like him nor do I think he's a good guy. I think he's capable of good, being good, doing good but there's too many times where he's been vocal about killing anyone and burning his own kingdom down if Poppy doesn't get her own freedom of choice or what she want and what not. It's played out as the most truest love but to me, that's like a villain kind of love. If someone I loved burned down a city because I didn't get to choose what I wanted, I'd call the police. The craziest thing I had to read is people believing that Casteel would make a good king when he legitimately states that Poppy's needs comes before his own kingdom's needs. And if hers are met, the kingdom's could be met. That's not how any of that works!

He also does something incredibly reckless. I get it, he couldn't live without Poppy so he chooses to Ascend her. I can wrap my head around it. The fact of the matter is that Casteel refuses to take the blame or even entertain the consequences that could have resulted in that and how reckless it was. Poppy even refuses to allow the conversation. They are both like: I am not a vampry. Nothing bad happened so let's move on. It's astounding. Not only that but I felt it extremely odd that Poppy would have been okay with Casteel making her into a vampry, something incredibly dangerous and something she hates and would never want to be. It's just oh okay well luckily I didn't turn into one. And that's... it? It would have made good tension but no. Instead, they're just in love so much we have to listen to Casteel tell her how strong and beautiful she is every twenty pages.

I was excited to learn more about Kiernan but I still couldn't tell you much about him. Best friends with Casteel, a wolven, and he's always like "no one is surprised by Poppy having question". That's about all I know of him. Those are all things I knew about him in the second book.

Some other things I had issues with is that the villains are eager to spill everything about their plans. I feel like I'm watching a cartoon show with their villain monologues going on and on. Everyone except for Poppy is knowledgeable about everything!! People are constantly apologizing for things they have no control of. Characters somehow know exactly what to say to Poppy all the time like mind reading. I'm annoyed that the gods realm and the draken were such short parts.

When the reveals and the action which took 600 pages to get to happened, I really couldn't find myself caring. Reading felt like a chore. I'm not worried about any of the characters. I don't know if I'm interested anymore in reading this series because it feels like work trying to read it. I'm here for enjoyment and I'm not having a good time.