#like it feels presumptions but i just sit there in my little evil chair like.

[raisins-n-space]

idk if this is like. something all fandoms get but one of my favourite parts of being into star trek is seeing previously non trek blogs be like “hey guess what i maybe saw this show called star trek idk it was quite okay blue and yellow seem kinda fruity to me ” and getting to watch people contract incurable spirk brainworms in real time basically without fail. idk i just think it’s neat.

[starqueensthings]

So I’ve been really struggling with the unexpected events of the season two finale, and I know a lot of us have been. We’ve all been grieving in different ways, but I wanted to share one of the coping mechanisms I used to help me get through the first couple days. I wrote these snippets from the perspective of Wrecker, Hunter, and Echo, as a sort of prayer or message to Tech. All three are based on the concept of heaven, or a peaceful afterlife, so if that’s not your thing, please carry on. And while I’m not overly religious, the concept of peace after death is something I find cathartic. Please enjoy, and hopefully this helps you like it has been helping me.

Tech, if you can hear me.

Part One: Wrecker Part Two: Hunter

Part Three: Echo (anger)

“Tech, if you can hear me.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck. I’ve been sitting on the ship staring at your chair for probably hours. I keep trying to funnel my thoughts into a place where I can actually understand them, but I can’t. I’m angry. I’m. So. Angry.

And I shouldn’t be. I should be really good at this by now. I’ve gone through this tornado of feelings more times than I can count… but I don’t know if anyone ever gets “good” at accepting a loss. Especially when it’s a brother.

I don’t have many memories of leaving Skako, but I remember waking up and seeing you right over Rex’s shoulder. I remember hearing him beg you to help me… and you did. You made it possible to get me out of there. Your uncelebrated ingenuity freed me from hell and I will never forget it.

Growing up, my batch mates always poked fun at me for reading schematics… they called me “reg manual”. I can admit, the obsession was a little unusual, but I couldn’t help it. I found comfort and stability in knowing and understanding logistics. It gave me a confidence that I wasn’t inherently born with like the rest of them were. When I joined Clone Force 99, you became a living, breathing manual beside me, and I never said it, but I found so much comfort in you. You were so effortlessly confident, aware… and I firmly believe that most missions were successful because of you.

Fuck. Why am I doing this? This is so dumb. You probably can’t hear me.

A lot of people believe there’s a peaceful place where one goes when they die, but… I just can’t imagine that sort of peace anywhere in this galaxy or in the next. How can such a wonderful place exist, when there is so much evil in the air down here? How can anyone fathom such serenity when there is so much turmoil? I can almost hear you saying ‘the notion that such a place exists is a highly illogical presumption, Echo. There is no sound data in any archive of any habitation such as one that fits those categories’.

But, if somehow it does exist… If you actually can hear me, and you’re in that place… Then I just want you to know… you deserve it, Tech. You deserve a place where your datapad battery never dies; where there’s an infinite conveyer of mechanics that need your ingenious repairs; you deserve a place where you’re allowed to write on the walls in the middle of the night when an ingenious idea hits you; a place where the lenses of your goggles never fog up, and the seams of your blacks aren’t scratchy. I hope it’s there for you.

And if you’re in that place… maybe keep an eye out for my twin? I could never bring myself to talk about him, but he was the greatest man I’ve ever known. You’ve probably already run into him up there; he’s loud, funny, animated, annoying, and he can talk his way into or out of anything. If you see him, can you tell him I miss him? His name is Fives, and you’ll probably find him hanging out around a table, playing sabacc with a sea of friends. He was always popular. I’ve heard Jesse is up there too. And Tup… Hardcase… so many brothers. Tell them I’m trying. Tell them I’ll keep trying for them.

And don’t worry about me. I promise I’ll keep my keep my hinges clean, and my scomp spinning.

Thinking of you always my brother,

Echo”.

[robininthelabyrinth]

i keep thinking about all the yiling patriarch!jiang cheng aus out there and it got me curious: what wild canon divergences would have to happen for it to be jiang yanli who becomes the yiling matriarch? (she doesn’t use a flute, she just asks politely probably) and what would be the eventual fallout of that?

It was Wei Wuxian’s idea, of course.

Jiang Yanli’s big didi was brilliant and talented beyond measure, as reckless and impertinent in his thoughts as he was in every other way, just as her little didi was earnest and soft-hearted and dutiful, the outlines of the serious man he’d become when he grew up just barely visible underneath the baby fat that still lingered in his cheeks.

It was Wei Wuxian’s idea, but it was Jiang Cheng that made Jiang Yanli decide to use it.

Both of her brothers got invitations to sit in on important sect meetings, as senior disciple and presumptive heir; Wei Wuxian apparently made good contributions during the meetings and forgot about them immediately afterwards, while Jiang Cheng listened intently and then worried for days.

“The Wen sect is becoming more and more of a threat,” Jiang Cheng told her late at night when she was making him something to settle his upset stomach – he was like a little bird, with anxiety enough to put him off his seed. “Mother and Father are fighting over how much they need to react, since technically they haven’t come into Yunmeng…”

“Technically?”

“We never signed agreements with those clans, but we’ve been all but responsible for them anyway.” He put his head down on the table, sighing. “What happens if they come here?”

“A-Xian says they won’t dare.”

“He’s just repeating what Father says. I don’t know. Maybe they don’t dare now, but – what if they do, one day?”

Jiang Yanli took after her father in most aspects, but she was still her mother’s daughter: while she comforted Jiang Cheng and told him not to worry, filled him up with warm soup and hugged him until he smiled again, the thought lingered. What if, indeed. Her brothers would need to fight, of course. Her two babies raising up swords against human beings instead of evil creatures; her mother would use Zidian, of course, and her father had his sword, and she –

Jiang Yanli was not un-self-aware. She was an indifferent cultivator, with below-average skills at the sword – good enough to pass basic muster, but not much more than that. Her talismans were about the same, decent but not inspiring, and she could only produce an average number before she exhausted her spiritual energy. She had a golden core, but it was weak, just like she was weak.

She wouldn’t be able to defend her home. To defend her brothers.

And there was nothing she could do about it –

That was when she remembered Wei Wuxian’s silly little idea, the one that had gotten him in so much trouble at the Cloud Recesses, that he’d told her all about in great detail when he’d returned home: to use resentful energy the way they used spiritual energy.

(“– and then poor Nie Huaisang said it would be helpful to someone like him, who formed his core later; he doesn’t have much spiritual energy, so he gets tired easily, but if it’s not his energy he’s using, he wouldn’t be held back by the limits of his own cultivation –”)

Jiang Yanli pursed her lips in thought.

Wei Wuxian had only sketched out the basic idea, without going forward to think of ways to implement the idea – after all, it was all well and good to say you could find a way to channel tremendous external energy into something usable, but another thing entirely to actually do it. It would be as tricky as catching lightning from the sky and using it as a whip.

In other words, it was time to ask her mother for help.

To say that Yu Ziyuan disapproved would be an understatement, but Jiang Yanli knew her mother well: she waited until the initial rant was completed and then pointed out, quietly, that she didn’t have any other means with which to defend herself – and that would leave her at the non-existent mercy of the Wen sect.

Her mother froze. “…I could give you Zidian,” she finally said, but from the expression on her face, even she knew that that wouldn’t work: Zidian required both a strong golden core and a certain knack, a talent that Jiang Cheng had and Jiang Yanli lacked; there had never been any question between the two of them as to who would inherit Zidian. “Or we could buy more talismans –”

“And when the talismans we buy run out? I can’t replenish them myself. But if we try my way, I won’t have to rely on A-Xian or A-Cheng – a-niang, just think about how I’d feel if they got hurt trying to save me! And all because I don’t have a knack for cultivating!”

Her mother sighed. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll help you figure out how it could work in practice, rather than in theory. But it’s only for emergencies, you understand? What you’re suggesting comes very close to demonic cultivation – if you use human-generated resentful energy, it is demonic cultivation – and using that too much damages the body, affects the temperament.”

“Just for emergencies,” Jiang Yanli promised.

“And don’t tell A-Cheng or Wei Wuxian about it,” her mother insisted. “Can you imagine the trouble those two would get into with something like this?”

Jiang Yanli covered her mouth to try to keep from giggling. “A-Xian would probably restyle himself to match the aesthetic – wearing Demon Cultivating Robes, under Demon Cultivating Hair, that he left in a pile on the Demon Cultivating Bed –”

“From which he rested on the Pillow of Evil, no doubt,” her mother agreed, looking amused despite herself. “And your brother would end up trying to keep a small legion of fierce corpses as pets because he felt too bad about sending them back into the earth after having used them.”

“He’d give them names,” Jiang Yanli said, giggling harder. “Princess, or Buttercup –”

“And he’d hide them very badly in a closet or something, too. Do you remember the nest of juvenile fisher hawks that he hid in the armory? They nearly fell on my head –”

“Of course I remember. You nearly stepped on poor little Cloudpuff.”

“Don’t remind me!”

They had two years to work on it, their own little mother-daughter bonding time – the boys ran away in mock fright at the mere suggestion of girly stuff – and Jiang Yanli felt that she and her mother had never been closer. They could even, for the first time, go on night-hunts together, Jiang Yanli summoning corpses with a crook of her finger and a gentle hum while her mother cut them down with her sword or with Zidian.

It was so much fun that Jiang Yanli almost forgot why they’d started it in the first place.

And then, very suddenly, it all became real.

Jiang Yanli was at Meishan, visiting her grandmother, when the Wen sect attacked, but word spread quickly – the Lotus Pier ravaged, the sect leader and his wife both dead, their children missing…

“We have to hide you at once,” her grandmother said after they’d passed through the first flush of grief, her face still wet with tears. “They’ll be coming here next –”

“You will tell them that I am not here,” Jiang Yanli said, and stood up, wiping her own eyes. “Because I won’t be. I’m going back to the Lotus Pier.”

“A-Li! If you do that, they’ll catch you – have you heard what the Wen sect does to female cultivators –”

“Mother and Father are dead at their hands,” Jiang Yanli said. “They must be avenged.”

“Your brother will do that! That boy, Wei Wuxian, he will –”

“I will not let them bear that burden alone,” Jiang Yanli said. “Keep everyone here safe for me, okay?”

She made it back just in time to see Jiang Cheng, her little A-Cheng, the baby she held in her tiny arms less than a shichen after he’d been born, the one she clothed and fed and cared for all these years, being dragged into the main hall by Wen sect cultivators, his face pale with fear.

Wen Chao was sitting in her father’s chair, playing with the sect’s discipline whip. “I’ve always wondered if this thing was as bad as they say. Let’s try it out on him,” he ordered, grinning lazily. “And then Wen Zhuliu can melt his golden core, and we can try it again – to see if there’s any difference in using it on a cultivator and on a regular person.”

Jiang Cheng didn’t plead for mercy, not even as they forced him down to kneel, even as his shoulders shook under their hands – Jiang Yanli turned her face away, nodded at the young Wen cultivator that had snuck her in this far (Wen Ning, she thought his name was), and raised her hands to do what she had to do.

The Wen sect had been lazy in the immediate aftermath of their victory: they hadn’t bothered to either bury or burn the corpses of her Jiang sect cultivators, her shidi and shimei, her martial aunts and uncles; they’d only tossed them outside into a giant pit to be dealt with later.

They were going to regret that.

“Jiejie!” Jiang Cheng cried out when he saw her rushing over to his side: he was bleeding, and badly, from the marks of the whip, but Wen Zhuliu hadn’t had a chance to destroy his core yet, having been distracted by the sight of the Violet Spider risen up from the dead in defiance of all soul-calming rituals.

(Jiang Yanli knew her mother well enough to know that she would forgive the use of her corpse if it resulted in her ripping out Wen Zhuliu’s core with her bare hands, using the elongated nails of a fierce corpse, a fearsome red-clad ghost dressed in purple. They would put her to rest later in the same coffin as her husband.)

“It’s okay, A-Cheng,” Jiang Yanli said, petting his hair. “It’s okay – jiejie’s here. I’ll keep you safe.”

Wen Ning ended up being the little brother of Wen Qing, who he somehow managed to summon – the famous doctor lived up to her reputation and didn’t so much as blink at being escorted into the main room by fierce corpses in order to care for Jiang Cheng’s wounds. Jiang Yanli was pretty sure that she’d seen her deliberately stepping on Wen Chao’s corpse on her way in, too, so she wasn’t worried.

“No one can know that I was involved,” Wen Qing said, finishing up stitching together Jiang Cheng’s chest and resetting his collarbone. He was out cold, and there were medicines that would work as painkillers for when he woke up. “I have to keep my family safe, too.”

“You were never here, this never happened,” Jiang Yanli agreed. “If you ever decide that the Wen sect is a losing proposition, come to me and I’ll remember this favor.”

Wen Qing eyed some of the fierce corpses standing as guards. “I’ll remember that.”

There was some yelling outside, a familiar voice. Jiang Yanli tilted her head to the side and smiled. “That’ll be A-Xian. He can help sneak you out of our borders without anyone the wiser – no one knows the ins and out of the Lotus Pier better than he does.”

She went out and found Wen Ning trying to talk down a wild-eyed Wei Wuxian, who apparently was on familiar terms with him. Not really a surprise: Wei Wuxian was friendly with everybody.

“A-Xian!” she called.

“Shijie?! What are you doing here? Are you okay – are you safe – did you see Jiang Cheng –”

“It’s okay,” she said. “All the bad Wens are dead; Wen Ning and his sister – and their subordinates – are helping us. A-Cheng is injured, but he’ll heal.”

Wei Wuxian sat down abruptly, all the tension in his body replaced by a mixture of relief and the remnants of his despair. “I only went away for a moment to get some food,” he said, and put his head in his hands. “I only looked away for a moment…”

Jiang Yanli sat next to him and wrapped her arms around him. “You did your best, A-Xian. That’s all that can be asked of you.”

“But – Madame Yu said –”

Jiang Yanli could guess what her mother had probably said.

“Of course you need to take care of A-Cheng,” she said, and let him bury his head in her shoulder. “He’s your didi, isn’t he? Just like he’s mine, and you’re mine, too; it’s our responsibility as older siblings to take care of the younger ones. He’s going to need our help a lot more now that he has to be sect leader.”

Wei Wuxian sniffled. “I told him I’d support him when he became sect leader – that we’d be the twin heroes of Yunmeng, just like the twin jades of the Lan sect. I just didn’t think…not so soon! And now there’s barely any Jiang sect left!”

“My little heroes,” Jiang Yanli said, and kissed his forehead. “It’ll be okay. The Wen sect may have attacked the Lotus Pier, but there are plenty of Jiang sect cultivators who weren’t here – we have them, and we can recruit more.”

He nodded, then paused. “Uh, shijie – a question.”

“Yes?”

“The fierce corpses everywhere…”

“We’ll need to lay them to rest after we’re done,” Jiang Yanli said firmly. Her mother had insisted on that: demonic cultivation encouraged bad tendencies, sloppiness, and the only way to deal with that degradation of spirit was with discipline and righteousness. If possible, she should prefer non-human spirits; human corpses could be used, but only to the degree necessary, and then they had to be laid to rest with honor, as they deserved – furthermore, if at all possible, they should only be summoned from those that would have willingly given up their bodies to help the endeavor in question, rather than using tormenting their spirits by using them against their friends and family.

Somehow, Jiang Yanli didn’t think there would be a problem finding victims of the Wen sect to help.

“But how did you do it?” Wei Wuxian wanted to know. “They listen to you –”

“I’m manipulating their resentful energy,” she explained. “Based on the idea you initially had at the Cloud Recesses – what? Don’t look at me like that, didi; I did tell you I thought it was a good idea.”

“But demonic cultivation is bad for you! It affects the temperament, the body, the heart…”

“Mother used to say that my temperament could probably stand to be a bit worse,” Jiang Yanli said, feeling her eyes go hot as tears threatened. She sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “Don’t worry, didi. We came up with a bunch of rules to try to make it easier and less harmful to use…I’m not a sword cultivator like you and A-Cheng; it’s not my strength. But I can do this, and I won’t be helpless against the Wen sect.”

Wei Wuxian hugged her, clearly terrified by the thought. “Never mind what I said. It’s a good idea.”

Jiang Yanli smiled. “I know. You’ll help me come up with more ways to use it, right? You and A-Cheng – you always did come up with the craziest things when you were together, even more than you alone.”

“Of course!” There was the Wei Wuxian she knew and loved: forgetting pain – or at least, putting it aside – as soon as he had something concrete to work on. “How do you do it? Music? I’d been thinking of using musical manipulation –”

“Sometimes I hum? Mostly it’s just willpower – sometimes gestures, like saluting. It works better if the resentful spirits feel appreciated.”

Wei Wuxian blinked at her. “Appreciated?”

“Everyone likes to feel appreciated, A-Xian.”

“I suppose so,” he said, then shook his head. “Whatever you say is right, shijie.”

“Of course she’s right,” Jiang Cheng croaked from inside the room – he’d stumbled over to the door, and both Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli immediately rushed over to help him back to his bed. “Jiejie’s always right…jiejie, what do we do next?”

“Don’t look at me!” she objected. “You’re sect leader; you decide. I’m just here to support you.”

Jiang Cheng nodded. “We have to fight back against the Wen sect,” he said. His voice was raspy with pain and the remnants of screaming: Wei Wuxian lifted a cup of tea to his lips at once. “The way the Nie sect is…the Lan sect, too; I think Father mentioned that Lan Wangji was doing a lot of travelling. Wei Wuxian, you got close to him when you were at the Xuanwu cave. Can you go find him? Tell him we need his help, and the help of any other sects he can help us recruit.”

Wei Wuxian nodded. “You sure you don’t need me here..?”

“There won’t be a ‘here’ if we don’t get people together, and fast – we killed one of Wen Ruohan’s sons. As soon as I’m better, I’m going to go find people for the Jiang sect, whether cultivators who weren’t here or new ones. And shijie…”

“What can I do?”

Jiang Cheng lifted his finger to point at the corpses, which he hadn’t even questioned. “We need more of those. A lot more of those. An army of them.”

Jiang Yanli frowned. “Where am I supposed to find an army worth of dead people? I was planning on picking up resentful souls of the Wen sect’s victims as we went, but that’ll be incremental, not an army…”

“Actually,” Wei Wuxian said. “I have an idea. Have you ever heard of the Burial Mounds in Yiling…?”

[iheardarumorxxx]

Midnight Sun, Chapter Ten - Theory

Alright, time to jump back in. Took a couple of days off, refreshed my brain, now I think I can handle more of this asshole.

instead of answering my demand

See that? See how Eddie just goes ahead and tells us that he’s being a demanding little shithead? More shades of that controlling tendency that he has all throughout the series, outright stated. This is literally the first sentence of the chapter, and he’s not even pretending to be subtle about it.

describe it so that she would understand.

Yes, because ‘I can read minds, but only if they’re relatively nearby, and it gets easier to pick out voices as I become familiar with them’ isn’t clear in the slightest. See that, Eddie? I just explained for you with 23 words, instead of going off on some dumbass tangent metaphorthat takes up an entire paragraph  like you do here because you think that the human mind is so small and weak that it can’t possibly comprehend cut and dry explanations.

The fact that Eddie thinks he needs to explain things in analogy for Bella because she won’t get it if he doesn’t really goes against this supposed idea he has about her being smarter and so above the other pitiful hooman folk. Either she’s too human to understand like everyone else, or she’s smarter and more rational and would get it without the metaphor. Pick one, Eddie.

I will say, one thing that I took from the Twilight series that still sticks with me is the phrase ‘Holy crow’. I do, in fact, use it unironically. It’s absolutely stupid, but I like the way it flows off the tongue.

Anyway, Bella just shouted it because Eddie is bending the car to his vampire physics again and going 100MPH, which, I would like to point out, she would have absolutely realized before now if she wasn’t so blatantly unobservent. She would have felt it, it wouldn’t have taken looking at the spedomoter to realize it.

“We’re not going to crash.”

Eddie is absolutely certain of this fact, and I am too only because SM would never let anything like that happen to her little woobie vampire and her SI Mary Sue. However, let’s apply real world logic to this for a sec. Just a sec because this story can’t handle real world logic for too long, but. They are presumably on a highway, going 100MPH at let’s say 930 to 10ish PM. I’ve never lived in Washington, but I’m going to make the presumption that there probably isn’t too much traffic this late, though, perhaps a bit more if it’s a Friday or Saturday night. Perhaps Eddie can keep perfect control of his own car, even going that fast, while most likely paying little to no attention to the road because he is constantly looking over at Bella in the passenger seat. He has his mind-reading power, which he probably uses to help him drive, and maybe there isn’t another car directly behind him based on how fast he’s going. 

He’s still not taking the other drivers on the road into account. What if the car in front of you that you are rapidly coming up on because you’re going so fast sees a turtle or a deer or some other kind of animal in the road and swerves to avoid it. Since this is real world logic, even if you see it coming with your mind reading power, you can’t make your car stop on a dime going 100MPH. You’re going to crash, and since you are going so fast, it’s gonna be a pretty nasty one. Your vampire body can handle that, because you’re a marble adonis god, but Bella over there is squishy and human. You slam those breaks, seatbelt aside, she’s gonna end up through the windshield or strangled to death by that seatbelt. 

He’s assuming that his vampire magic strength and perfectness is gonna be enough to protect him from literally everything. It will, because this book is not realistic in the slightest, but he’s still a dick for not taking into account the other drivers on the road. And not taking into account the fact that Bella is clearly upset and terrified that he’s going so fast.

Two and a half paragraph rant over one line. Check.

Bella spills about how Jacob told her the old story about the Cullens being sparkley, evil vampires who aren’t allowed at La Push because the wolves will eat them. And I have to say, because this story is the entire basis for Bella knowing that Eddie and his ilk are vamps, how the hell does it take her so long to figure out that Jacob is a werewolf in New Moon? Like, I know it’s because she’s stupid, but since she’s supposed to be wise beyond her years and smart and shit, why did it not click that both sides of the story must be true.

Rant for a different book, but.

I supposed this meant I was now free to slaughter a small, defenseless tribe on the coastline, were I so inclined. Ephraim and his pack of protectors were long dead.

This is it. This is the line I’ve been waiting for. I knew it was coming and it STILL pisses me off so damn much reading it. Do you see that? Do you see it? Eddie is talking about straight up genocide. He is literally talking about killing hundreds of people just because some teenage kid told an old folktale to a girl he thinks is cute to try and impress her. I would like to remind you of that line that Alice said earlier: “It helps if you think of them as people.” IT HELPS IF YOU THINK OF THEM AS PEOPLE, EDWARD!!! These people have done literally nothing to you! If you wanted to go, say, beat up Jacob Black for spilling your secret, that’s one thing (A terrible thing that is bullshit, even if Jacob gets a jerkass makeover in a few months) but you are literally la de fucking da over the idea of going down to the reservation and murdering every man, woman, and child there because of some bullshit technicality broken treaty. HOW THE FUCK DOES ANYONE THINK THIS GUY IS THE HERO? HOW DOES ANYTHING SEE HIM AS A GOOD LOVE INTEREST? HOW IS HE A PROTAGONIST? HE’S A FUCKING MURDERER, PLAIN AND SIMPLE SPELLED OUT RIGHT THE FUCK THERE! It was spelled out pretty damn well in that first classroom scene, but here we are reinforcing it, and this is the guy that SM said she was willing to leave her husband for. THIS GUY. 

I hate it. I hate him. I’m not a happy camper.

And I’m gonna move on before I burst a blood vessel from how mad it makes me.

Bella goes on to tell Eddie that she flirted the story out of Jacob, and that she doesn’t care. He replies with “HOW CAN YOU NOT CARE! I’M A MONSTAH!” and she just shrugs and pops her gum. Eddie is just absolutely shocked by this because how could she not care? He even wonders if there’s something wrong with her. The answer is yes, she’s clearly a hybristophile, but that’s beside the point. 

The ‘how old are you’ ‘17′ ‘how long have you been 17′ ‘a while’ exchange is actually kind of cute, on it’s own. Had it been in a better book, it might have made me smile a little. But in Twilight it just felt like forced comedy, and here with Eddie being all Emo about being a monstah and also being condescending and clearly angry about Bella knowing his secret, it comes off a lot darker in tone. It could have come off as a playful exchange between people getting to know one another, and instead, it’s a darker tone and it’s almost uncomfortable. The movie had this problem, too, where they made it all dark and angsty instead of just being a cute little exchange that it should have been.

“I can’t sleep.”

This is more of that thrown away world building that SM does. First it was the Vampires never Change thing and now the can’t sleep thing. It could have been so fascinating to explore what not being able to sleep does to the psyche of these Pires. How different vampires get used to that sensation over different periods of time. Did it unsettle Eddie at first when he was turned and just couldn’t sleep anymore? Was Jasper already a night owl who barely slept, so it wasn’t much of a change for him anyway? What do they do to fill their time? If their hobbies and interests never change, it seems like they wouldn’t be using all that newly acquired time to learn new skills and hobbies, even if that particular ‘never change’ plot point isn’t explored either and never actually seems relevant to them. Has a Pire ever tried to sleep anyway? Just lay down and closed their eyes and waited for eight hours to pass, hoping they would drift off? This is interesting lore. It’s something that could have given depth to the vampires instead of being a throwaway plot point so Eddie could watch Bella sleep at night. I’m disappointed. I want a good idea to actually be used well.

Edward calls Bella observant and to that I can only say ‘Ha.’ 

Eddie finally realizes that Bella has the hots for him too and it’s so UWU and trite, but he has to go and bring up that stupid Hades and Persephone metaphor again and piss me off in the process.

The get to Bella’s house and take forever with their goodbyes, and right at the end Eddie goes on about how he’s got this new hunger in him just looking at Bella and feeling how warm she is and shit and it’s just him being horny again, but nothing happens and Bella heads inside. But don’t worry, Eddie assures us that he’ll be in his usual perch in the rocking chair later that night to stalk her and watch her sleep, so everything is well.

She couldn’t love me the way I loved her

GET IT? BECAUSE VAMPIRES ARE BETTER THAN YOU(tm) AT EVERYTHING INCLUDING HOW HARD THEY LOVE? Seriously, so damn sick of this idea that the vampires in this universe just do everything and see everything and smell everything and feel everything just so much more intensely than the pitiful hoomans. I still have a rant about it. It’s still coming. Don’t worry.

A casual throwaway mention of the Voltouri here, AKA the vampire Mafia that make and enforce the rules. They don’t actually matter or have any real power in this series, and they suck, but nice little nod to the audience as a reminder that there is supposed to be a governing body in the vampire world.

Carlisie and Eddie boy are off to take care of the rapist who almost got Bella, and the entire fucking drive, Carlisle is just sitting there thinking about how wonderful Eddie is and how he deserves happiness and it’s such bullshit for him to be thinking that way when he KNOWS that Eddie can read his thoughts. He’s literally just showering him in compliments for the sake of it just so that Eddie can hear them and puff up his ego. I don’t buy that it’s just passive thoughts. He wants Eddie to hear them.

We all know who Carlisle and Esme’s favorite child is.

We end the chapter with Eddie going back to Bella’s house to watch her sleep, deciding to take it upon himself to wander around her house uninvited, and the rambling on about how Bella clearly doesn’t have a guardian angel because she crossed his path and no guardian angel would allow that. Then he makes some crack about being her guardian vampire, talks about how, oh, it’s actually a good thing that he took it upon himself to break into her house to watch her sleep because he got her another blanket because she seemed cold, and smiles to himself when she mumbles his name in her sleep. 

That’s it, chapter done, I’m tired. I’m gonna try to crank out another one (maybe two) tonight, but no promises because this one really took a lot out of me. These characters just suck. Anyway, as always, feel free to message me or DM me to talk about the book, recommend future projects, etc. And you can always buy me a snack using the CashApp tag in my bio. Until next chapter, good damn bye.