#make 2017 the year i actuall talk to my followers | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year ago

Note

Ahhhh I've been waiting for your requests to open, I've been following you since your first Price fic and never had an idea to request until like 2 weeks ago 😫 so, I've been thinking, what about being in a relationship with Keegan but getting separated when ODIN hits the earth and not meeting again until about 5 years later? 👀 Love your writing, hope you have a great day 🩵 :)

For The Weak And Weary

PAIRING: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: When ODIN struck you had thought he had died, sky alight with fire. It had taken years to accept it, much less live with it. But after Dallas falls, would you get a glimpse of your Lover's phantom again?

WORDCOUNT: 6.2k

WARNINGS: Angst, depressive thoughts, PTSD insinuations, gore, wounds, blood, death, canon-typical violence, (1) suggestive joke, alcohol, hallucinations, fluffy reunion, tears, verbal arguments, etc.

A/N: Just because I'm a sucker for sticking to the game timeline I made it ten years, lol. Enjoy, Anon! Very fun prompt.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You could never make sense of what Keegan went through in 2005 during Operation Sand Viper. It would be pointless to try and wrap your head around it from what little you knew. All that mattered was that when he came back on leave, something in his eyes was…damaged. Hell, he’d only been sixteen—the both of you had known each other since you were kids, you knew when something was wrong.

And this was entirely new to you.

He smiled less and snapped more; got spooked when you dropped something in his family's kitchen like a grenade had gone off. Maybe, you reasoned, he thought one actually had.

But through it all, you could still see how much he cared about you. When you were old enough you’d both moved into a nice place in the suburbs and started a relationship—a life shared between the two of you.

You knew he loved you from the way he’d grip you close at night and breathe into your scalp. How when you were sick from the take-out dinner he’d brought home, Keegan would hold back your hair and rub circles into your spine as you threw up. He never shied away from telling you how beautiful you were; prided himself on it. Keegan loved to show you off.

But there were times back then when you wondered if the same Keegan that had been so fulfilled to join Ghosts had died, and, in fact, a phantom was instead puppeting his skin. He was so quiet now.

If you’d known that the world was going to end on July 10th, 2017, you’d have never let him walk out that door angry. You would have grabbed his hand and pressed your lips to his, whispered affirmations into his flesh and sobbed at the cruelty of it all.

“I can’t keep pretending that you’re okay!” You yell, tears in your eyes, at the man standing tense in the kitchen doorway. Blank blue eyes stare lifelessly. “Keegan—this is killing you.”

It was early morning by then, and the neighborhood was quiet. The house that the both of you had moved into years ago was littered with the remnants of a happy home. Pictures on the walls, dishes in the sink, and freshly baked bread on the counter. All you’d tried to do was give Keegan a hug, slipping your hands around his waist when you’d entered.

He’d balked back, jerking to the side and nearly elbowed you in the gut before he saw your wide eyes and stopped himself. The way he’d looked at you…how could eyes be so dead?

“You need to talk to someone,” you put your foot down, shaking your head. “I-I don’t know a therapist or…or someone who can get you proper help because I can’t keep acting like I can live like this.”

Every mission, every time he went away, it always got worse.

Keegan’s eyes get sharp, hands at his sides clenching. He speaks in a low growl. “I don’t need to talk to a shrink, alright? I’m fine, you just startled me.”

“Bullshit,” your mouth hisses, glaring. “You thought you were back in ‘05.”

The man points at you, strong jaw clenching, “Don’t.”

“Keegan,” you plead, “please, I love you! I don’t care about this, I just want you to be alright. To be able to live your life—”

“What you want is to try and change me!” The black-haired man barks. Your eyes blink in shock. Keegan rarely yelled. “I already told you I was fine, why don’t you get off my back all the time?” His eyes flash, pupils going to slits as his hands shake at his sides. Why did he look scared? Your breath stills, lips slightly open, with tears dripping to the tile. “Fuck, it’s like I can’t come home without you pesterin’ me ‘bout something!”

A stiff silence falls.

“Kee—” He snaps a hand to his mouth and rubs at his stubble, suddenly unable to look at you.

“...Forget it.” It’s low and shaky how he says it, eyes wide, before he darts into the foyer and slips into his boots. You listen to the sounds of panicked shuffling before the man wrenches open the front door and slams it shut behind him. One of the picture frames falls and hits the ground with a shattering of glass.

You flinch and tense, taking down a terse breath and sniffling tightly. Trying to get your lungs to work properly, your feet take you over to the picture as they feel weak and uneven; a stuttering mess of steps before you bend down. Your fingers bleed as they shift the glass away, taking out the image of you and Keegan on your hike through the mountains.

Smiling faces mock you, and you break at the bright and open affection Keegan wears as he looks down at you—eyebrows curved up and smirk like a knife to the chest.

You loved him so much it hurt to breathe when he was away.

He had needed time, you knew, but what you didn’t know was that time wouldn’t be available. Around noon the world had opened into a ball of fire and death. 27 million dead. Los Angeles, San Diego, Phoenix, Houston, and Miami…all gone…at least, that was what everyone in Dallas was telling you.

When Keegan had been away taking a walk to calm himself, you’d been home alone. The earth caved, the ground shook; houses burst like balloons. By the time you’d crawled from the rubble of your home, all you had was the picture and the clothes on your back. People were screaming—you were screaming. But you knew that you couldn’t stay here if you wanted to survive.

And then you’d made it to Dallas by sheer luck and the few tricks Keegan had taught you; had thought that he had died in that first strike by the Federation. You carried that guilt and self-hatred for not holding your tongue for a few more hours.

So much could have been different in these ten years. Better. You never got over him for even a second.

But the reality was that you couldn’t think about all of that now, because if you didn’t focus on holding your breath you would be dead in the next three seconds.

Your hand is anchored to the body of your sniper rifle, finger hovering over the trigger as you hide behind the outcropping of rubble in the decimated cityscape; the air is hot and humid despite the weight of the night. It sticks to your skin in a sheen of violent sweat. Yet it’s still not as potent as the blood.

Teeth gritted, you hold back whimpers as Federation soldiers stalk the grounds, scores of them—legions. An entire army that had breached the walls and executed everyone insight, soldiers, civilians, if it once moved it didn’t anymore. The burning in your shoulder was agonizing, head smashing itself back to the rubble in an attempt to stifle your own ragged need to scream into the night as layers had peeled back to allow a bullet to pass through.

In the ten years you’d been here, you’d taken up the mantle of quite the sharpshooter; pulling on Keegan’s lessons when he was on leave and wanted to bring you to the firing range. You had even picked a rifle similar to the one back in your destroyed home—held in a plastic case and treated like royalty by your long-deceased lover. It wasn’t the same, but the jet-black Lynx made you steady like the picture in your breast pocket did.

A reminder of what was lost and why you had picked the knock-off up in the first place.

Footsteps get closer as the sweep of a flashlight cards above your skull, if possible you go even more still, lips pulled in and heart rampaging. There were barked orders and yelling, but no more screaming.

How long had you been unconscious after taking that shot to the shoulder? Fear was breeding with horror—was…was everyone dead?

Spanish is loudly called not five feet away, and the flashlight leaves as your breath does. You let off a quiet gasp and suck down air greedily. Eyes flashing from one shadow to another, you look for any opportunity to slip away from the city. In the wind, you could smell fire, and taste it on your tongue as you licked your lips.

All around you can see the limp shadows of bodies and the apartments, large skyscrapers were on fire deep in their frames. The city was entirely lost.

How the federation got into the walls you would never know, though there was concern about the enemy soldiers rounding up civilians outside the walls and executing them. Maybe one cracked before the bullet entered their skull.

You bite hard into your lip to force back your pain. Trying to shoot a rifle would be useless at this point, you might as well have lost the limb. Slinging the gun’s strap over your head, you look back and forth along your visible perimeter, checking for hostiles as you unsheathe your combat knife and cradle your limp arm to your chest.

If only Keegan could see you now.

Rounds of gunfire make the air burn with urgency, and you take the time to peek out behind as sweat makes a trail down your dirty face, dripping off of your chin as you breathe like a wheezing dog. Your wound needed tending, and you had the med pack on your vest with the supplies, but you can’t do it here.

Where’s safe? If Dallas has fallen…is there anywhere that’s still standing? A location hits your brain as your gaze darts from one abandoned street to another. You take a deep breath and whine as you force your legs to stand and move quickly, feet shifting as quietly as you’re able to make them.

“Fort Santa Monica.” Now a stronghold, you’d heard US soldiers here talking about the large presence of military power out in California—numbers so great they rivaled those that had lived in Dallas.

You stumble over a spasming body and slam your uninjured shoulder into the bulk of the building’s wall, groaning loudly like a wounded boar.

“Fuck!” If you made it out of the city, that would be where you would have to go; to warn them of what was coming. The Federation had found a way inside the Dallas wall, and that meant if they had enough tenacity, they could do it to them too.

Everything would be done if another city fell.

Holding your knife tighter, you push off the wall and grit your teeth harder, mind running on that edge of hysteria and forced calm. It’s in these moments where you have to pull on old memories to keep you going—even if they end up hurting more than the open wounds you carry.

Keegan had his bad moments, but you always got through them together. Years and years of knowing each other inside and out; memorizing bodies and thoughts like they were second nature. He would want you to keep fighting, tell you to get your ass in gear and go…and you would never let him down.

You owed him that much even if some days you wanted more than anything to join him.

Blade in hand, you hear muttered speech from up the alleyway and pause, feet splayed but still swaying as you come to a slow stop. Your ears ring at garbled sentences, foreign words spilling into one another.

Panting, you listen closely, limbs vibrating. More gunfire echoes over the air, screams and death that get ingrained into your head like a brand into sizzling flesh. Skyscrapers burned and buildings fell with great earthquake booms. Everything is under a sheen of distance.

Get out of the city. Get to Fort Santa Monica.

“Kill who I have to,” you slur out, itching at your neck as you leave a trail of blood behind you. A single pair of footsteps walk quickly forward near your corner and you hold your breath, bringing up your knife as pain pounds in your arm.

Deep blue eyes sit in the back of your mind, counting you down as they always did.

Keep your arm steady for me, Doll, a phantom tells you. Breathe...

When the first shadow of a Fed soldier graces your eyes, you strike.

—

It’s roughly nineteen days from Dallas to Santa Monica, and that was if you kept up at a steady walking pace. If the crude sling you’d fashioned from bandages found in your med pack was any indicator, it would be double that.

On the first day, you had hiked half-dead over the destroyed landscape of what remained of the USA, licking your wounds and counting your losses. You’d had your pick of abandoned houses, taking a red brick one just because it looked nice and you were about to pass out from blood loss. The only reason you’d made it this far was that the bullet had thankfully passed right through you, making sure that if you moved too suddenly no more damage was being done internally. You packed it with a sterile rag.

Sitting in the home, pictures gathering dust on the fireplace mantle, you tipped back a bottle of whisky you’d found in one of the bedrooms, grimacing at the sting. It was better to be drunk for what you were about to do.

Heating up your combat knife in the fire you had started in the hearth, you watched the metal grow an eye-flinching white as you stared off into nothingness.

“You remember when you showed me that scar, Keegan?” You always talked to him. Others had given you shit for it, but they knew the purpose. If you didn’t talk to someone, even a ghost, you would give up.

The guilt was eating you alive, and it would overtake you eventually. Hadn’t in ten years, but it would…you knew it, everyone did.

Keegan was everything, and nothing looked the same when you lost him.

“The one on your thigh?” Pulling the knife back, you turn to the leaking flesh of your shoulder, gushing blood as black desecrates the sides of your eyes. You’d taken off your vest and shirt. If you tried hard enough you could imagine Keegan standing in the corner, watching. Always watching. “You said you had to dig a bullet out and cauterize the wound—when I asked you said you barely felt it over all the adrenaline.”

The ghost tilts its head, eyes sad and lips pulling taunt. Your lungs take in a shaky inhale and your hand quivers; only you feel how your eyes burn with unshed tears.

“I never thought about it before,” right as you growl and shove the knife into your skin, you bark out in fear, “But I think you were fucking lying!”

On day two, you knew you had to avoid the remains of Fort Worth, so you decided to increase your distance and cut that landmark out entirely—too many remnants of Federation. They were everywhere now, and you needed to keep low; get out of Texas. You scavenged properties and took stock.

Four magazines for your Lynx, a pouch with five protein bars, one bottle of water attached to your belt, and your knife. Normally you’d have a pistol at your thigh, but you’d used it up in the firefight back home. When you’d woken back up, it had been gone.

And, of course, you had the picture. You kissed Keegan’s face and placed it back in your breast pocket, caressing the material softly before clearing your throat and addressing the obvious.

With what you had getting to California was a pipe dream.

You’d been on the radio all day, clicking through channels and pleading for anyone alive to reach out. Nothing. Static.

I’m the only one left. The thought was intoxicating, pounding in your skull like your hangover. Everyone is dead.

While you had become somewhat of a loner in the last ten years, especially with the few months you’d been by yourself in the beginning, Dallas had given you a chance to build bonds again. Ten years, and in an instant it was all wiped out.

It rang a devastating bell.

Somehow, you had cheated death where so many others had failed—not only in Texas, but back with ODIN too. You had survived, but somehow Keegan hadn’t.

Keegan, the one who never spoke about ‘05 and jerked awake from nightmares years later because of it. Keegan, who wanted nothing more than to stay at your side when he was home and keep you on his chest when watching movies. Keegan, the love of your life.

The only love of your life.

“I really wish you were here,” you mutter, grimacing as your arm gets jostled as you stumble over a piece of rusted metal in the empty street. “Who gave you the right to go away before me, huh? We were supposed to grow old together, Russ. You promised me that.”

Garbage gets blown over the road when a hot breeze shifts the air, bringing the scent of dirt and the noise of rustling trees. Nature has reclaimed the towns and suburbs—great patches of ivy and long grass that rise to your hips. But the silence was a curse.

The only thing keeping you going is the thought of delivering your warning to Santa Monica, from there…

Your lips thinned. What even was there left? How many times could you go from one place to another, starting over with stories of your past and having to brush the pitying looks off as you fake a smile?

Shaking your head, you recall memories from the better days as the light gets low in the sky.

“You’re doin’ too much, Sweet Thing,” Keegan mutters, and you turn from the stove top with a bright smile to face him.

He had just gotten out of the shower, towel ruffling through his dark hair as he stands in the kitchen entrance and watches you cook for him. The shirt hangs off of his wide shoulders, and gray sweatpants are loose over his formed hips—his strong brow line raises in a casual expression.

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t like it,” you tease, hearing his low chuckles as you turn back to your pan. “You look good, y’know.”

“Oh, yeah?” Keegan grunts, smirking, and his feet pad over to you, tossing the towel to the counter as his presence looms over your back. Large hands grab onto your hips and a nose burrows into your hair; inhaling deeply before gradually melting to the curve of your spine.

You smile and hum, pushing back so you can rest on his chest. A chin sets itself on your head, deep massaging fingers making you pur as they bunch your sleep shorts.

It was late—nearly two in the morning. Keegan had only gotten home a short while ago, but sleep wasn’t going to stop you from spoiling him. A wine bottle was on the island counter, two glasses, and the food was nearly done from what you could scrounge up on short notice.

“...Good to be back,” the man grumbles into you, kissing your head and slowly sweeping his arms around your waist as you sighed softly at the contact.

Your face gains heat.

“Well, I’d sure hope so, or else this would be awkward.” You huff to hide the bright smile in your voice. But like a moth to flame, you hear, as well as feel, Keegan chuckle against your spine. His grip squeezes you for a moment.

“How was it when I was away?” He asks as you move around the contents in the pan, nose brushing your neck as his lips travel to kiss behind your ear. He breathes against the flesh as his low rasp makes you shiver. “Any trouble?”

“Negative, Sergeant,” you raise a brow and smirk over your shoulder at him, seeing his blues spark as he gazes hard into your eyes. A faint twitch to his lips is what you get before his hand captures your cheek; anchoring your face as he descends to connect his mouth to yours.

He sighs into it, arm still around your waist—tight as if you were a pillow.

“Keep talkin’ like that and we won’t have to wait long for dessert, will we?”

Days three through seven were uneventful beyond the constant agony of your arm and tired legs, but on day eight amid a waterless walk in the sweltering heat was when the hallucinations began.

Keegan walks beside you, his footsteps mirroring your own as sweat pools down your forehead and drips off your nose. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t look at you—he just walks, looking exactly like he did the day he died.

At first, you’d flinched back and blinked wildly at the sight, panting, but then he’d disappeared and your heart had shattered. It worried you with what you were seeing, but it was also a strange comfort to be able to ramble to…something, even if it wasn’t real. Hungry and with a dry tongue, you were on the verge of calling it quits.

So on day eleven, without a wild animal in sight to give you a proper food source and all the water having to be purified, you started talking to him while licking the inside wrapper of your last protein bar.

“But I never understood why you hated sleeping in shirts,” you licked your lips to get the remnants of granola off of your flesh, pushing away the greasy sheen from your cheeks. Your arm was burning up—every heartbeat was felt as it moved the skin around red and infected flesh up and down. Puss was leaking out from the crude stitches you had made of embroidery thread from that first house you’d found.

“And you always kept the room freezing.” Continuing, you drop the wrapper to the ground and then take the meat of your fingers and get what little flavor you can off of them, grunting through realization. “That was a ploy to have me use you for heat, wasn’t it? Jesus.”

The man in the corner of your vision smirks, tilting his head and chuckling from where he leans against a tree trunk.

“Yeah, that’s right. Knew it.” Glaring at nothing, you stand from your overturned stump and nearly fall right back over, stomach yelling at you as your vision swirls.

You dig a hand into your hair and grip at the strands, pulling and groaning. “...God.”

Keegan comes over and stands above you, your eyes staring down at his feet as you get light-headed. You focus on his shoelaces, counting the Xs and taking down shaky breaths. When you blink like a cat with dirt on its face, the shoes are gone entirely and you stand back up to your full height.

“...Keegan?” You ask after a moment, the words disappearing into the trees, but no one’s around.

Your sight goes to your wound and your jaw tightens, moments of clarity slipping in as a knife would into your consciousness before the curtain settles once more.

You bend over and vomit what little nutrients you had, spending day twelve sleeping through a fit of nightmares and fever-induced delirium.

Nothing about the remainder of the time you can recall to memory—bits and pieces always flash through on long nights, but they’re only walking montages. Dragging feet, looking at your hand as if it was a foreign object as you turned it back and forth; everything in a sheen of sickness. Days and days and days. Little food. Less water.

More than one-thousand miles.

But somehow, the Wall peels out in front of you as you crash through the foliage, your body giving out and collapsing down a large decline. Bouncing and getting jostled by rocks, you come to a stop without the strength to get back up, staring blankly ahead as your head connects with concrete. Your mouth is open in broken inhales, pain not even registering.

Shouts echo, the pound of rapid feet.

Green eyes meet yours, a youthful face with a beanie and stubble. He’s saying something to you, glancing over your gear and your obvious near-death situation—his hand jostles the side of your face. But your eyes shift behind him gradually, attention falling to someone more important.

Before you finally let yourself rest, you stare at the smiling face of your steadfast phantom.

—

The doctors and nurses at Fort Santa Monica were nice, if a bit secretive about the entire operation. Seeing as you weren’t an official soldier, no dog tags or patches—no name in the database—everyone was a bit hesitant to tell you anything.

Until you said you were from Dallas, of course.

But no one was eager to rush you in your state, even if the information was dire. You had been hooked up to an IV and bedridden for a week straight; talking to nothing on account of the dehydration and electrolyte imbalances. Some days you spend unconscious.

But what really pissed you off when you got back into it, was the fact that they had taken your Lynx and your gear—your picture.

You’d almost grappled onto the first nurse you’d seen when you’d woken without it. It was a beacon, your prized possession of damaged corners and taped tears. Water damage that may or may not have been from sobbing fits in the first five years.

In fact, that was the entire reason you had snuck out so late in the first place.

Stalking down the hallway in the white shirt and camo pants that had been given to you on the fifth morning you had woken up here, you pad along with no shoes, only plain gray socks. You limp with bandaged flesh all along your healing shoulder and your feet.

The doctor had explained that you’d entirely skinned the bottoms and your heels were a mess of blisters and open wounds.

“Take my property,” you grumble under your breath, shuffling along and rubbing at the back of your neck. “What gives them the right?”

You weren’t going to stop until you found it.

Reading the name tags on the walls, you silently wonder where they would have taken your stuff as you slip out of the medical ward, listening to the buzzing of the lights and frowning. As you’re limping along the next hallway, a man suddenly turns the corner on nearly silent feet.

“Woah!” You halt immediately, heart jumping in your chest. A hand catches your shoulder before you run headlong into him.

Green eyes lock with your own, wide and blinking quickly. Brows furrow and you’re quickly looked over before a slow, teasing remark enters the air, you listen with a growing heat on your neck.

“Y’know, I could have sworn you were supposed to be in bed, Ma’am. I miss something here?” The man who had found you.

“Wouldn’t know,” you say blandly, blinking up at him and taking a careful step back. This brunette had a casual air to him—still in his gear despite the time. He folds his arms and tilts his head at you, smirking. “If you’ll excuse me.”

You begin to walk forward, slipping past him and hoping you won’t get snitched on. Except it seems you’ll be having a shadow, as not a few seconds later a smooth chuckle meets your ears and the man walks beside you.

“I think I’ll be taggin’ along if you don’t mind. Security and all.” He turns to face you, sticking out his opposite hand. “Hesh.”

“That supposed to be some kind of nickname, Kid?” You raise a stiff brow but participate in the handshake nonetheless. His grip is firm but not hard.

Hesh blinks at you, eyes swimming with amusement before he shrugs in a boyish way and shakes his head with a laugh. “Hell, you remind me of someone, Ma’am.” A moment passes in silence as you study the area. The man huffs, “Where exactly are we off to?”

“Wonderland,” your lips grumble, tired and wanting to sleep but not until you find your picture. Hesh sighs but you can still hear the hilarity inside of it.

“Alright then…don’t know if you’re going to be finding a shrinking potion anytime soon, though. We’re in low stock.”

“Very funny,” your eyes send a dry look, but you relent when he prods you with his eyes, taking a corner. “I’m looking for my vest.” Hesh blinks at you in curiosity, letting you elaborate as you motion to your upper shoulder. “My pouch has some of my personal belongings. I don’t like being away from it.”

“Oh,” the brunette nods a few times, his beanie jerking along. “Yeah, that’s no problem.” A hand is waved and you stare in confusion as he pivots. “C’mon, I’ll get you there.”

Your eyes burn into his back before you immediately speed after.

“Why so eager to help?” Hesh smirks at your question.

“As I see it, if you went over nineteen days of hard hiking just to get to us, you should at least be able to keep your stuff on you, Ma’am.” Your lips flicker in a smile.

“You’d be the first.” You tell him your name and miss the slight emotion it provokes in his eyes, head lightly pulling to the side but ultimately saying nothing. Hesh shrugs with a grunt, leading you to a meeting room on the opposite side of the building.

Yelling is on the other side.

“Elias, how long has this been kept from me?!” The voice makes your head perk, evoking something inside of your chest. Hesh seems taken aback too, holding up a hand to you for momentary silence—not that you had to be told.

“Keegan, I can’t have that happen. She needs to recover and you being there could jeopardize that. We need what she knows about Dallas.” Your body stills to a near-frozen state, and it’s comedic how your entire face falls to a blank slate. Wait a second.

…Keegan?

“She belongs with me—I thought she fucking died and she’s been here for who knows how long?! Why wasn’t I informed?” Rampaging feet suddenly sound off, going to the door at break-neck speed.

“Son, that’s not a good idea. This is what I was worried would happen if you found out.”

“I didn’t exactly ask, did I? As far as I’m concerned, nothing else matters besides getting back to my Girl,” the bark is ferocious and violent, more of an animal’s than a man’s. “Now where the hell did you put her before I tear this damn fort apart and—” You shove at the door before Hesh can grab you, throwing it open and letting it hit the opposite wall with a great boom of wood.

Your wild eyes instantaneously lock into sharp blues, pulse pounding in your ears. It’s like all the air is taken from your lungs in a great punch.

Oh, he’s so similar to how you remembered him to be ten years ago.

Keegan stands only a few feet away, turned in your direction with his eyes so wide and small you might faint. There’s black face paint in his sockets, making the cerulean all the more bright and shocking to the senses. He’s still tall, still built, if only a bit more rugged than when ODIN struck—there are lines on his forehead and his scars are more faded. Small differences in the way he holds himself like the difference between a rabbit and a hare. Keegan’s black locks are shorter now, but still…his.

Lips part in silent shock, an entire halt of your nervous system.

The entire universe holds its tongue as you two stare at each other; walls and rooms blur into a mess of matter and reality—this couldn’t be real.

Keegan’s feet shift for a moment as if to steady himself as his fingers twitch. In his hand, he holds your picture, his body covered in gear and weapons. He blinks as you tell yourself he’s a phantom, simply that same ghost come back to haunt you as tears sting the backs of your eyes. But then he speaks, and it’s the same voice you had slowly lost the ability to remember in year three.

“...Sweetheart?”

His ghost never spoke. His ghost could not imitate the phonics of his speech or the rhythm of his throat. His ghost could not make you recall the memories you’d long since boxed up.

You jerk forward just as he does, bodies colliding into a feral grip of flesh and fabric, hands latching and faces burying. Sobs rip from you as Keegan’s shaky breath echoes right next to your ear—his chest hitching and arms snatching your waist and lifting you up as easily as he always had. He holds you up without any thought of putting you down, legging your legs dangle as Elias slowly exits the room and corrals a highly confused Hesh with him.

The door shuts, but neither of you notices.

“Keegan—” Your voice is high with emotion, hardly believing what you're seeing—what you’re touching. “Oh, my God.”

He had been alive all this time? Ten whole years and you’d thought he was dead. But by the way he was barely letting you breathe from in his iron clutch, you imagined Keegan had thought the same about you. It was…incomprehensible.

“Shh,” he whispers, his shushes cracking and flinching between broken gasps of your name. “Shh.” He sets you down on the floor only to have his firm hands travel to your cheeks, turning your head to each side in a desperate need to understand if you were really there.

Keegan’s eyes are wet, but no tears let themselves fall quite yet.

“I’m so sorry!” You hiccup and the man kisses your cheeks—your browline and nose. Every piece of you he can as you both stay so intimate you might melt into one another. “I thought you were gone, I-I should have stayed and looked for you, I didn’t—”

“You’re alive?” Keegan’s hands rub across your body, gripping and tugging you closer and closer. “My Girl’s alive?”

His tears drip to your face as he hovers above you, and you both shake with the weight of years.

“Me?” Your chuckle through sobs—you want to scream and wail at the same time. Blue eyes flutter and ragged breaths puff on your forehead. “What about you, you asshole?”

Keegan shakes his head, and you stare deeply into him, hands coming up to cup his cheeks as he sags forward. He had stubble now, spreading out to grate your flesh.

The man forces a weak huff.

“Christ,” is all he mutters before he presses his lips to yours in a kiss so unyielding you expect to have your air stolen. Ten years to feel him kissing you again—to feel his warm flesh under your hands and his heart rampage into you.

You’d do it all over if it still amounted to this.

Your body shivers and you reciprocate with just as much fervor; this emotion of relief is so overwhelming and all-consuming that it makes your head light. You suck down quick breaths between the sensation of your lips meeting, Keegan doing the same.

Unconsciousness was better than letting him leave again, your lover sharing that sentiment as chests slid against one another. Soft hair slips through your fingers as you grip Keegan’s hair, cascading through locks as he groans into your lips and tries to hide his tears from you.

He pulls away and immensely shoves his head into your neck.

“You’re here,” he whispers quickly. A hand quivers at the back of your head as your tears wet his gear. “You’re right here. You came back to me, didn’t you, Doll?”

You cry, “I’m here, Keegan.” The man sobs when he hears you say his name, his knees giving out as you both fall to the floor and not letting the other move beyond the caress of skin and lips.

“I missed you,” Keegan gasps, “so much. Don’t you understand? I was nothing without you. You took it all from me, everything. Every damn thing.”

You press kisses to his neck and racing pulse, healing him inside and out without even realizing it; it was only fair, he was doing the same back to you.

The picture lays long forgotten on the floor.

“Never let me go,” your voice forces out, as he rocks you back and forth like a child. “Never again, Keegan. Please, I love you too much to go through that again.”

“Never,” he immediately promises, pulling back and kissing your lips again—neither can stop themselves from this. Blues eyes blink quickly, cataloging your face and every little blemish he’d have to relearn and study; to find the story behind. Keegan had never been happier. He felt like he might break from it. “Over my dead body, I’m never lettin’ you out of my sight. You’re stuck with me.”

You laugh genuinely for the first time in ten years and say you’d like nothing better as he pulls you back in and plants his mouth to yours in reverent worship. His arms trapping you to him as yours do just the same.

Not to leave again anytime soon.

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

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thehypnone · 8 months ago

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absolution live 2017/2023

here I am with my over 1,5k word autistic ramble about the differences between absolution live from 2017 and 2023. at the end there is an audio file of both versions put together, if anyone would be interested in that. it sound very cool heh

also tags for people who showed interest in this: @forest-rot @ghuleh-recs @counting-eyerolls @ngnt-writes @ghnosis @rain-ghoul-appreciator @sister-rosemary-marie

anyway, under the cut

I will start with an analysis of instruments and players separately, one by one, and then I’ll talk about the whole thing a little bit. Also I’m using only ghoul names in there, but when I’m talking about styles and skills I obviously mean the unmasked folks.

Both in 2017 and 2023 we have Mountain on drums, which gives us a very fun comparison opportunity. In 2017 he goes heavy on the cymbals—according to the original version of the song—but it makes the whole thing a bit too crashy and too clogged. The drums are very widely mixed and set—slightly focused on the left side following the stage layout from then—but I think the cymbals could be a bit quieter in comparison to the actual drums, especially the floor tom. In general we can hear how smaller Mountain’s kit was in 2017. In 2023 the entire drum part is sharper and deeper, more bassy and it’s focused more in the middle. The way it feels to me, in 2017 the drums are the background and in 2023 they are the core. Mountain has better fills in 2023, he obviously got more comfortable just jamming in there and having fun over the years.

Dewdrop on bass in 2017; we can hear (or at least I can) that he is not a bassist. He scrapes his pick on the strings a lot which is connected to him being primarily a guitarist—it’s about the picking hand placement and angle. The bass is pretty quiet and it has overdrive on it. It helps conceal his buzzing a little bit, because it happens a fair amount for Dewdrop. Again—bass is not his main instrument. We can also hear exactly when he slams it, like we know he loves doing. In general sometimes he’s quieter and sometimes he’s louder and it’s mostly caused by his picking; how he angles his hand in certain moments and how much strength he puts into it. At the end he goes absolutely feral. Not surprising.

Rain in 2023 is amazing. He’s very skilled, and it’s a huge shame Ghost doesn’t have any songs that could really allow him to show off. He hit his cue a bit too fast at one point, but it might as well be intentional. He’s so much clearer and cleaner, both due to his skills and the settings. Rain has more drop, he most likely has his bass on a different pickup setup than Dewdrop, plus they used different basses—Rain’s with additional mods. One of those mods is a very heavy bridge—Badass Bass—and I bet we can thank that piece for the sustain and note definition in Rain’s playing. In general it flows more, fits into the whole image better. His changes in volume are controlled, not accidental like it happens for Dewdrop. Rain puts more slides, tiny additions and note changes into his live playing, it makes it a bit more lively to me. He’s put perfectly in the middle, nicely blended with the drums.

Unfortunately there isn’t much I can say about Ifrit, Dewdrop, Aether and Phantom mainly because “Absolution” isn’t really a guitar focused song and so it isn't the best song to compare guitar skills, either. The most interesting part—guitar wise—is the solo and little fills on the rhythm now and then.

Ifrit is very precise, I couldn’t hear any mistakes from him, but also the lead is surprisingly quiet in general. His palm muting is on spot, pull-offs and hammer-ons both in the chorus and the solo are very clean and he is simply a pro, he’s got super skills and I wish we could’ve gotten more (</3). He makes the whole song as lively as his stage personality, it sounds flowy but packed with emotions and still so precise it hurts.

Dewdrop’s sound is way better, though he and Ifrit are close skill wise. The difference between Hagstrom Fantomen and Fender Stratocaster is a big one, the main aspect that we can hear is the sharpness of the former and more grounded sound of the latter. Those two guitars also have a very different pickup arrangements—Dew’s strat has SSS (3x single-coils) pickups and he uses the bridge one (which is a Seymour Duncan Hot Rail), and the Fantomen’s has HH (two humbuckers that can be slip, but as far as I’m aware no ghoul used that feature), also with the bridge one used more frequently. In “Absolution” Dewdrop doesn’t add very much—as he does to some other songs—so it’s pretty much the same as the original version. There are small differences that inherently come with his style and that is what makes his version differ from both Ifrit’s and the album's, but it’s all very slight. Dew also makes a very good use of his pedals, mainly wah—especially at the end.

Aether is a bit off tempo in some parts. He plays well, mostly clean, but we can pick out some slight mistakes—mostly sounds that aren’t supposed to be there. His palm muting is a bit too light. He goes heavy on the pick which makes his part of the solo a bit sharp (especially that he’s playing the higher harmony) and square-ish. The sharpness is, again, something we can partially blame on the Fantomen. Only partially because both Ifrit and Phantom prove that it’s manageable.

Phantom is very clean, he adds a lot of slides which is a feature of his personal style. Said style of his is very lively and fun, to me it sounds and feels like a slinky (don’t laugh at me it’s the autism). He’s more fluid both in the solo and the rest of the song than Aether, but makes one—barely noticeable—mistake in the solo where he misses a note.

Also Phantom and Dewdrop in 2023 are more in sync than Aether and Ifrit in 2017. For whatever reason.

Now keyboard; Zephyr goes absolutely ham on the keys, but it is a piano song so that’s not only understandable, but also desirable, I would say. Key’s are in the right ear with slight migration to the middle when it matters, again according to the stage layout. Their precision and speed and overall skill is insane, the ending when they go wild is the most impressive part, because the song itself doesn’t give many opportunities. If you haven’t seen a video of Zephyr playing that ending you gotta do it now because it really is insane (RIP to that Nord Stage 2 though). The synth fill before the solo in 2017 is played back, in 2023 it’s played live by Cirrus.

In 2023 Cirrus plays the main chorus keyboard part, it can be heard easily on the left side (so once again stage layout accordingly). It’s clean and precise, she’s also very skilled, but unfortunately doesn’t really show off at the end like Zephyr does. Cumulus plays some chords before the solo while Cirrus plays the synth fill.

Vocals are not my thing so I’m only going to say what most of us can hear; Terzo is very nasal, but cleaner, and sings a bit higher. Clear pronunciation, good flow. It’s closest to Tobias’ normal singing voice. Copia is even more nasal, more growly and raspy. They’re both, obviously, in the middle in case of mixing.

Backing vocals in 2017 are all play-back for obvious reasons—pretty simple, taken straight off of the album recording. It’s put on the left, but it could be more favorable in the middle. 2023 is way more spectacular thanks to—mainly—the backing vocals. They are 90% Aurora and Cumulus, with lower levels of Cirrus and barely anything of Swiss. He’s louder by the end. I’m still conflicted about the growls—if it is Swiss or Papa’s play-back—but it’s a great addition that was very mild in 2017’s play-back. The backing vocals are on the sides, accordingly to the stage layout. It all just adds more spice, I adore them.

Sound engineering and mixing is so much better in 2023. We can easily tie it to the budget (though I’d like to “blame” it on Hayden’s part in the engineering, he’s a mastermind, too). The sound is much clearer and fluid than in 2017, it highlights all the instruments perfectly at the same time. Mixing in 2017 is more blunt, it’s a bit duller and some changes in volumes and placements of instruments could—or even should—be made. It doesn’t mean 2017 sucks—far from it—it’s just a technical difference which actually warms my heart if we look at how far has Ghost come. So, once again, considering the budget in 2017 vs. 2023 it’s all understandable. Also the crowd sound control in 2023 is very fun; it makes a great use of all the yelling causing the whole song to sound warmer and fuller.

Both 2017 and 2023 are on the exact same tempo, they can be put over each other perfectly (which I did). They slide apart at the end and the break before the outro is longer in 2023. The 2023 outro itself is pretty boring in comparison to 2017, most likely because in 2023 it’s not a closing song. Below there’s both “Absolutions” over each other; 2023 in the left and 2017 in the right headphone.

#the band ghost #nameless ghouls #hypnone gear talks #mountain ghoul #rain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #ifrit ghoul #aether ghoul #phantom ghoul #cirrus ghoulette #aurora ghoulette #cumulus ghoulette #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus iii #zephyr ghoul

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genericpuff · 8 months ago

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Ive read a few of your LO esaays (all of which are really well written!) But I was wondering something.

Many people talk about how Rachel loves the story Lolita, and has talked about it before, but nobody has ever shown screenshots. I was wondering if you had any or knew where to find any. This is just being curious, not doubting your statements

Ah so I actually responded to a comment just like this a while back on reddit with all the receipts (it was particularly someone who was claiming it was all "made up" because like you, they couldn't seem to get any proof of it, which is totally valid) so I just had to go and dig those back up haha

DISCLAIMER: I want to make it clear that a lot of people tend to run amok with these suspicious pieces of evidence towards Rachel either "thinking Lolita was a romance" or being a pedophile. I want to make it clear that I do not think any of this is proof towards either of these claims. I do not think that she blatantly thinks Lolita is a romance, or that she was trying to perpetuate pedophilia in any sort of way, just that she may have wanted to have her cake and eat it too by acknowledging the age gap but embracing it anyways as she does throughout LO. I think, at best, she's a terrible writer who's still using the things she liked when she was a teenager / young adult as inspiration without actually going back and re-analyzing those things with an updated 38-year-old viewpoint (as she does this with a lot of things, not just Lolita). Claiming that the following receipts is 'proof' of Rachel being some kind of sex pest / pedophile is at best not constructive at all for the real discussions to be had concerning LO's subtext, and at worst, a serious claim that can ruin someone's life if thrown around without cause. Let's please be responsible and level-headed in how we approach this topic.

Old MySpace + DeviantArt bios with her interests listed:

Her old art site where she labels herself as a "lolita vamp" artist:

Her intro post from a lolita-themed forum she ran:

She does express that it's not THAT kind of lolita, which I'd like to think she never intended in the first place, but it's really telling that LO still manages to be that kind of lolita in a lot of ways, to the point that there are many scenes in LO that feel a little too similar to scenes from the 1990's Jeremy Irons adaptation, such as seen here.

(the above image are song lyrics written about the book, Lolita)

Also despite Rachel saying it wasn't "that kind" of lolita, she still made it clear back in the 2017/2018 run of the comic on Tumblr that Hades is, indeed, a "grown ass man", and that Persephone is a teenager.

And of course the proof is in the pudding, the comic itself is well aware of Persephone's age:

(either Rachel has been using Apollo as a mouthpiece for criticism for years, or she seriously thought this was supposed to make Hades look like the better partner for Persephone because "look at how mean Apollo is" when... he's deadass spitting facts LOL)

As I mentioned in my disclaimer, I don't think Rachel herself is in any way a sex pest or a pedo or whatever you might jump to assuming. Rachel has a history of being inspired by things she watched when she was a child without ever actually going back to re-analyze it or ask herself if what she read was credible or real-

(this isn't the only proof there is of her behaving this way, there's also the fact that she was clearly a huge Disney fan as a child but never asked herself why those movies worked as a piece of written media).

So again, I think at best she's just sort of dated herself by not going to the effort of researching the things she was into when she was a child, she tends to just throw things in that she likes haphazardly without a single thought as to why they worked in the first place or whether or not they would work in LO. Though this is a bit of a saltier opinion, I think when it comes to the Lolita thing specifically, I have a feeling she never actually read the book, just sorta did that thing where she watched the movie adaptation from the 90's and assumed that counted as reading the book and so she put it down as her favorite book / Nabokov as her favorite writer.

But none of that speculation really makes much difference because the evidence is 20+ years old. What does matter is that despite her tastes being what they were 20+ years ago, they're still present in LO and it's not even subtle, there are so many times Rachel has outright said both within the comic and outside of it that Hades is a "grown ass man" and Persephone is a literal teenager. Her fans, of course, will still go to the effort of explaining it on her behalf ("they're gods! ageing isn't a thing for them!" "how old you are doesn't matter when you can be immortal!" "well she probably doesn't mean LITERALLY 19, just like, the god version of it..."), but you can't deny what's coming from the horse's mouth - Hades and Persephone are in a relationship based on an intentionally massive age gap. Regardless of what completely speculative parallels we can draw between H x P and that of Lolita's Humbert Humbert and Dolores using 20 year old MySpace bios as evidence, Hades and Persephone having a massive and intentional age gap is undeniable fact made canon by the creator herself, no matter how you try and slice it.

#ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything #lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical

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hermiona52 · 3 months ago

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I can't stop thinking about the recent cases of horrible abuse of women in France, South Korea, Uganda and India, so this fragment of Pauline Harmange's "I Hate Men", about why misandry is actually a healthy and reasonable response, is always on my mind:

If misandry is a characteristic of someone who hates men, and misogyny that of someone who hates women, it has to be conceded that in reality, the two concepts are not equal, either in terms of the dangers posed to their targets or the means used to express them. Misandry and misogyny cannot be compared, quite simply because the former exists only in reaction to the latter.

You’d literally have to have never looked beyond the end of your nose –or alternatively to be possessed of exceptional bad faith – to deny point blank that the violence women suffer is, in the huge majority of cases, perpetrated by men. This isn’t a matter of opinion, it’s a fact. The reason society is patriarchal is because there are men who use their male privilege to the detriment of the other half of the population. Some of this violence is insidious, background noise in the daily lives of women, so pernicious that we grow up with the impression that it’s the norm in male/female relationships. Other kinds of violence are so shocking that they make the headlines in national newspapers.

In 2017 in France, 90 per cent of the people who received death threats from their partners were women, while 86 per cent of those murdered by their partner or ex-partner were also women. Of the sixteen women who killed their partner, at least eleven, that is, 69 per cent of them, had themselves been victims of domestic violence. In 2019, 149 women were murdered by their partner or their former partner. In 2018, 96 per cent of those who received a prison sentence for domestic violence were men, and 99 per cent of those sentenced for sexual violence were men.

It’s not only women who are the victims of sexual attacks and rape, though it’s hard to find statistics of sexual attacks on men. There’s an enormous taboo when it comes to talking about sexual violence perpetrated against men, who suffer the full force of sexist stereotypes that imply that aman cannot be raped, since supposedly they’re always up for sex. It’s also very difficult for men to talk about sexual trauma. Society expects them to be strong and virile: nothing can be forced on them – and if it is, they aren’t ’real’ men.

A significant number of rapes are committed against minors, both male and female, and here too, the perpetrators are overwhelmingly men. In fact, whatever the sex or age of the victim of sexual harassment or violence– whether male or female, child or adult – it is vital to emphasise that the vast majority of those responsible for such violence are men.

[...] There are plenty of reasons to dislike men, if you think about it. Reasons backed up by facts. Why do men hate women? During the thousands of years that men have benefited from their dominant social position, what did we do – what have we done – to deserve their violence?

Misandry has a target, but it doesn’t have a list of victims whose morbid tally is totted up on almost a daily basis. We don’t injure or kill men, we don’t prevent them from getting a job or following whatever their passion is, or dressing as they wish, or walking down the street after dark, or expressing themselves however they see fit. And when someone does give themselves the right to impose such things on men, that person is always a man, and it still falls within the heteropatriarchal system

We misandrists stay in our lane. We might hate men, but at best we put up with them, frostily, because they’re everywhere and we don’t have any choice (incredible but true: it’s possible to hate someone without having an irrepressible urge to kill them). At worst we stop inviting them into our lives – or at least we make a drastic selection beforehand. Our misandry scares men, because it’s the sign that they’re going to have to start meriting our attention. Having relationships with men isn’t something we owe them,a duty, but, as in every balanced relationship, all the parties involved have to make an effort to treat one another with respect.

As long as there are misogynistic men who don’t give a damn, and a culture that condones and encourages them, there will be women who are so fed up they refuse to bear the brunt of exhausting or toxic relationships.

#radical feminism #misandry #misogny #feminism #gisele pelicot #rebecca cheptegei #“Nth Room”

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blueskittlesart · 9 months ago

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I've heard that while most people really really love BotW and TotK, some people hate those two for going open-world, and some people hate TotK specifically for something about the story. As the resident Zelda expert I know of, what do you think of those takes?

"something about the story" is a bit too vague for me to answer--if you look at my totk liveblog tag from back when the game was newly released or my general zelda analysis tag you may be able to find some of my in-depth thoughts about the story of totk, but in general i liked it.

the open world thing though is something i can and will talk about for hours. (I am obsessed with loz and game design and this is an essay now <3) breath of the wild is a game that was so well-received that a lot of the criticism from older fans who were expecting something closer to the classic zelda formula was just kind of immediately drowned out and ignored, and while i don't think it's a valid criticism to suggest that botw strayed too far from its origins in going open-world, i am more than willing to look into those criticisms, why they exist, and why i think going open-world was ultimately the best decision botw devs could have made. (totk is a slightly different story, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.)

Loz is a franchise with a ton of history and a ton of really, REALLY dedicated fans. it's probably second only to mario in terms of recognizability and impact in nintendo's catalog. To us younger fans, the older games can sometimes seem, like, prehistoric when compared to what we're used to nowadays, but it's important to remember just how YOUNG the gaming industry is and how rapidly it's changed and grown. the first zelda game was released in 1986, which was 31 years before botw came out in 2017. What this means for nintendo and its developers is that they have to walk a very fine line between catering to older fans in their 30s and 40s now who would have been in nintendo's prime demographic when the first few games in the franchise were coming out AND making a game that's engaging to their MODERN target demographic and that age group's expectations for what a gaming experience should look like.

LOZ is in kind of a tough spot when it comes to modernizing, because a lot of its core gameplay elements are very much staples of early RPGs, and a lot of those gameplay elements have been phased out of modern RPGs for one reason or another. gathering collectibles, fighting one's way through multilevel, mapless dungeons, and especially classic zelda's relative lack of guidance through the story are all things that date games and which modern audiences tend to get frustrated with. for the last few releases before botw, the devs had kind of been playing with this -- skyward sword in particular is what i consider their big experiment and what (i think) became the driving force behind a lot of what happened with botw. Skyward sword attempted to solve the issues I listed by, basically, making the map small and the story much, much more blatantly linear. Skyward sword feels much more like other modern rpgs to me than most zelda games in terms of its playstyle, because the game is constantly pushing you to do specific things. this is a common storytelling style in modern RPGs--obviously, the player usually needs to take specific actions in order to progress the story, and so when there's downtime between story sections the supporting characters push the player towards the next goal. but this actually isn't what loz games usually do. in the standard loz formula, you as the player are generally directly given at most 4 objectives. these objectives will (roughly) be as follows: 1. go through some dungeons and defeat their bosses, 2. claim the master sword, 3. go through another set of dungeons and defeat their bosses, 4. defeat the final boss of the game. (not necessarily in that order, although that order is the standard formula.) the ONLY time the player will be expressly pushed by supporting characters towards a certain action (excluding guide characters) is when the game is first presenting them with those objectives. in-between dungeons and other gameplay segments, there's no sense of urgency, no one pushing you onto the next task. this method of storytelling encourages players to take their time and explore the world they're in, which in turn helps them find the collectibles and puzzles traditionally hidden around the map that will make it easier for them to continue on. Skyward sword, as previously mentioned, experimented with breaking this formula a bit--its overworld was small and unlocked sequentially, so you couldn't explore it fully without progressing the narrative, and it gave players a "home base" to return to in skyloft which housed many of the puzzles and collectibles rather than scattering them throughout the overworld. This method worked... to an extent, but it also meant that skyward sword felt drastically different in its storytelling and how its narrative was presented to the player than its predecessors. this isn't necessarily a BAD thing, but i am of the opinion that one of zelda's strongest elements has always been the level of immersion and relatability its stories have, and the constant push to continue the narrative has the potential to pull players out of your story a bit, making skyward sword slightly less engaging to the viewer than other games in the franchise. (to address the elephant in the room, there were also obviously some other major issues with the design of sksw that messed with player immersion, but imo even if the control scheme had been perfect on the first try, the hyperlinear method would STILL have been less engaging to a player than the standard exploration-based zeldas.)

So when people say that botw was the first open-world zelda, I'm not actually sure how true I personally believe that is. I think a lot of the initial hype surrounding botw's open map were tainted by what came before it--compared to the truly linear, intensely restricted map of skyward sword, botw's map feels INSANE. but strictly speaking, botw actually sticks pretty closely to the standard zelda gameplay experience, at least as far as the overworld map is concerned. from the beginning, one of the draws of loz is that there's a large, populated map that you as the player can explore (relatively) freely. it was UNUSUAL for the player to not have access to almost the entire map either immediately or very quickly after beginning a new zelda game. (the size and population of these maps was restricted by software and storage capabilities in earlier games, but pretty muhc every zelda game has what would have been considered a large & well populated map at the time of its release.) what truly made botw different was two things; the first being the sheer SIZE of the map and the second being the lack of dungeons and collectibles in a traditional sense. Everything that needs to be said about the size of the map already has been said: it's huge and it's crazy and it's executed PERFECTLY and it's never been done before and every game since has been trying to replicate it. nothing much else to say there. but I do want to talk about the percieved difference in gameplay as it relates to the open-world collectibles and dungeons, because, again, i don't think it's actually as big of a difference as people seem to think it is.

Once again, let's look at the classic formula. I'm going to start with the collectibles and lead into the dungeons. The main classic collectible that's a staple of every zelda game pre-botw is the heart piece. This is a quarter of a heart that will usually be sitting out somewhere in the open world or in a dungeon, and will require the player to either solve a puzzle or perform a specific action to get. botw is the first game to not include heart pieces... TECHNICALLY. but in practice, they're still there, just renamed. they're spirit orbs now, and rather than being hidden in puzzles within the overworld (with no explanation as to how or why they ended up there, mind you) they're hidden within shrines, and they're given a clear purpose for existing throughout hyrule and for requiring puzzle-solving skills to access. Functionally, these two items are exactly the same--it's an object that gives you an extra heart container once you collect four of them. no major difference beyond a reskin and renaming to make the object make sense within the greater world instead of just having a little ❤️ floating randomly in the middle of their otherwise hyperrealistic scenery. the heart piece vs spirit orb i think is a good microcosm of the "it's too different" criticisms of botw as a whole--is it ACTUALLY that different, or is it just repackaged in a way that doesn't make it immediately obvious what you're looking at anymore? I think it's worth noting that botw gives a narrative reason for that visual/linguistic disconnect from other games, too--it's set at minimum TEN THOUSAND YEARS after any other given game. while we don't have any concrete information about how much time passes between new-incarnation games, it's safe to assume that botw is significantly further removed from other incarnations of hyrule/link/zelda/etc than any other game on the timeline. It's not at all inconceivable within the context of the game that heart pieces may have changed form or come to be known by a different name. most of the changes between botw and other games can be reasoned away this way, because most of them have SOME obvious origins in a previous game mechanic, it's just been updated for botw's specific setting and narrative.

The dungeons ARE an actual departure from the classic formula, i will grant you. the usual way a zelda dungeon works is that link enters the dungeon, solves a few puzzles, fights a mini boss at about the halfway point, and after defeating the mini boss he gets a dungeon item which makes the second half of the dungeon accessible. He then uses that item in the dungeon's final boss fight, which is specifically engineered with that item in mind as the catalyst to win it. Botw's dungeons are the divine beasts. we've removed the presence of mini-bosses entirely, because the 'dungeon items' aren't something link needs to get within the dungeon itself--he alredy has them. they're the sheikah slate runes: magnesis, cryonis, stasis, and remote bombs. Each of the divine beast blight battles is actually built around using one of these runes to win it--cryonis to break waterblight's ice projectiles, magnesis to strike down thunderblight with its own lightning rods, remote bombs to take out fireblight's shield. (i ASSUME there's some way to use stasis effectively against windblight, mostly because it's obvious to me that that's how all the other fights were designed, but in practice it's the best strategy for that fight is to just slow down time via aerial archery, so i've never tried to win that way lol.) So even though we've removed traditional dungeon items and mini-boss fights, the bones of the franchise remain unchanged underneath. this is what makes botw such an ingenious move for this franchise imo; the fact that it manages to update itself into such a beautiful, engaging, MODERN game while still retaining the underlying structure that defines its franchise and the games that came before it. botw is an effective modern installment to this 30-year-old franchise because it takes what made the old games great and updates it in a way that still stays true to the core of the franchise.

I did mention totk in my opening paragraph and you mention it in your ask so i have to come back to it somehow. Do i think that totk did the gigantic-open-world thing as well as botw did? no. But i also don't really think there was any other direction to go with that game specifically. botw literally changed the landscape of game development when it was released. I KNOW you all remember how for a good year or two after botw's release, EVERY SINGLE GAME that came out HAD to have a massive open-world map, regardless of whether or not that actually made sense for that game. (pokemon is still suffering from the effects of that botw-driven open world craze to this day. rip scarlet/violet your gameplay was SUCH dogshit) I'm not sure to what degree nintendo and the botw devs anticipated that success, (I remember the open world and the versatility in terms of problem-solving being the two main advertising angles pre-release, but it's been 7 years. oh jesus christ it's been SEVEN YEARS. anyways) but in any case, there's basically NO WAY that they anticipated their specific gameplay style taking off to that degree. That's not something you can predict. When creating totk, they were once again walking that line between old and new, but because they were only 3ish years out from botw when totk went into development, they were REALLY under pressure to stay true to what it was that had made botw such an insane success. I think that's probably what led to the expanded map in the sky and depths as well as the fuse/build mechanics--they basically took their two big draws from botw, big map and versatility, and said ok BIGGER MAP and MORE VERSATILITY. Was this effective? yeah. do i think they maybe could have made a more engaging and well-rounded game if they'd been willing to diverge a little more from botw? also yeah. I won't say that I wanted totk to be skyward sword-style linear, because literally no one wanted that, but I do think that because of the insane wave of success that botw's huge open world brought in the developers were under pressure to stay very true to botw in their designing the gameplay of totk, and I think that both the gameplay and story might have been a bit more engaging if they had been allowed to experiment a little more in their delivery of the material.

#wow it's been a while since i've written a real homegrown organic legend of zelda essay. i missed this #hi everyone. when the fuck is the next game going into development i need to have something to wildly theorize about again #god. it's been. seven years since botw came out. im going to go chew on live electrical wires #zelda analysis #asks

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mcrdvcks · 4 months ago

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Sweet Dreams - Chapter 1

Series Summary: Alexandria Sokolova spent 15 years with HYDRA, ever since her parents and brother were killed in front of her when she was 3. She was raised to be a soldier; an assassin. But now, faced with coming to Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, she has to come to terms that there are people around her who don't want to hurt her, people who actually care about her.

But recognizing that is harder than it seems, especially with a teacher like Logan Howlett, who seems to care more about her than he lets on.

Just because she's currently safe from HYDRA's grasp now, doesn't mean she's safe forever.

Chapter Summary: The Avengers bring Alexandria to Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.

Word Count: 8.9k+

Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x Original Female Character (platonic relationship)

Notes: and hello! welcome to this series! this is going to be a long one, since there are going to be three parts, this story, another series based around 'logan (2017)' and another based on 'deadpool and wolverine'.

but let's get a few things out of the way. this is NOT a romance with alexandria and logan. this is about them slowly recognizing they are more alike than different, and how they both eventually let their guard down around each other. if you will, it's a 'slow burn' father-daughter relationship.

another thing, alexandria's powers are as followed: dream-weaver; enter and manipulate dreams and telekinesis. you'll understand a bit more as you read on.

another, another thing, this is an au, the characters of jean, scott, kitty, jubilee, and others mentioned are TEENAGERS. they are students in high-school level classes as the X-Mansion, not adults. some of these characters may seem ooc, and if we're being honest it's because i've only watched first class-dark pheonix, the deadpool movies, wolverine origins, and logan. i tried watching the original x-men movies but i ended up falling asleep (oops). so if these characters are written wrong, it's my fault, but we are sticking with the ooc tag.

Series Masterlist → Chapter 2

AO3 Link For Chapter

Alexandria didn’t much care for whatever they were taking her. The Avengers, that is. Being saved from HYDRA did warrant them a ‘thank you’, but after a few days of staying at the Avengers Compound, they decided that it wasn’t a “good fit”.

Meaning a few things: one, they were scared of her, which was unlikely considering her powers weren’t all that terrifying, or two, they simply didn’t want to deal with a 17-year-old girl with trauma dating back 14 years ago.

The only three people who talked to her like a normal person was Wanda, Bucky, and Natasha, which she appreciated greatly.

“Coming up on the school.” Tony’s voice sounded out through the cockpit of the Quinjet.

Alexandria rolled her eyes, this all seemed like too much. She was a kid, just rescued from a terrorist organization and now she was supposed to go to school?

Was this a fucking joke?

Alexandria glared out the window as the Quinjet descended towards the sprawling grounds of the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning. The idea of school felt absurd after everything she’d been through. She crossed her arms, sinking deeper into her seat, eyes narrowed.

“Hey, I know it’s not ideal, but this place might be good for you,” Natasha said, catching Alexandria’s expression. She leaned over from her seat across the aisle, her voice gentle but firm.

“Yeah, a place full of more people who can do freaky stuff. Great,” Alexandria muttered.

Bucky, seated next to Natasha, turned to her. “It’s not just about powers. You’ll meet people who understand you, maybe even help you find some peace.”

Alexandria snorted, her skepticism apparent. “Peace? That’s rich coming from you.”

Bucky’s face tightened for a moment, but he nodded. “Touché. But it’s worth a shot.”

Tony’s voice came through again. “We’re landing. Let’s not make this harder than it needs to be.”

The Quinjet touched down smoothly, and the ramp lowered. Charles Xavier was waiting, a welcoming smile on his face, his wheelchair positioned at the edge of the landing zone. Beside him stood a younger man, wearing glasses, a flannel shirt, a tie, and a white lab coat.

Alexandria hesitated at the top of the ramp, glancing back at the Avengers. Wanda gave her an encouraging nod, while Natasha and Bucky looked on with reassuring expressions.

“Come on, kid,” Tony said, gesturing for her to follow. “Let’s get this over with.”

With a resigned sigh, Alexandria descended the ramp. Charles rolled forward to meet her, his eyes kind and understanding.

“Welcome, Alexandria,” he said warmly. “I’m Charles Xavier, and this is Hank McCoy. We’re here to help you.”

Hank offered a friendly smile. “Hi there. We’re really glad to have you here.”

Alexandria nodded stiffly, feeling the weight of their expectations. “Thanks, I guess.”

Charles seemed unfazed by her reluctance. “Why don’t we show you around? Hank, could you give Alexandria a tour while I have a word with our friends?”

“Sure thing,” Hank replied. “Come on, Alexandria, I’ll show you the school.”

As they walked away, Alexandria glanced back to see Charles engaging in a serious conversation with the Avengers. She couldn’t hear the words, but the tone suggested they were discussing her future.

“So, this place is like a school for mutants?” Alexandria asked, trying to make sense of it all.

“Exactly,” Hank said. “We offer a safe environment for young mutants to learn and grow. You’ll find a lot of people here who understand what you’ve been through.”

“Doubt it.” she muttered. Part of her didn’t even believe she was a so-called ‘mutant’. What she was however, was an experiment.

Hank chuckled softly as he led Alexandria through the halls of the Xavier Institute. “Well, I can’t promise you that everyone will understand perfectly, but you’re not alone in feeling out of place.”

“Yeah, right,” Alexandria replied, glancing around at the impressive but unfamiliar surroundings. “I’m supposed to just fit in here after everything that’s happened?”

“Everyone here has their own struggles and history,” Hank said. “Some are more recent than others, but we all find a way to make it work.”

They passed by a few classrooms, and Alexandria noticed students engaged in various activities. Some were reading, others were practicing what looked like combat techniques. It was clear this was not a typical school.

“Here’s the gym,” Hank said, opening a door to a large, well-equipped space. “It’s not just for physical training. It’s a place where students can test their abilities and find out what they’re capable of.”

Alexandria’s eyes flicked over the gym, taking in the equipment and the few students who were sparring. “Sounds like a lot of work.”

“Training can be intense, but it’s also important,” Hank said. “And there’s more to this place than just classes. You’ll find people who become like family.”

“Family, huh?” Alexandria muttered. “That’s something I’ve never had.”

Hank looked at her, his expression thoughtful. “You’re not alone here. Many of us have found a sense of family and belonging. It takes time, but it happens.”

They continued the tour, moving to the dormitory area where Alexandria would be staying. Hank showed her the common areas and her room, which was modest but comfortable.

“This is where you’ll be staying,” Hank said, opening the door to a small, neatly arranged room. “It’s not much, but it’s yours.”

Alexandria walked in, setting her bag down on the bed. “Great. Just what I always wanted. A room of my own.”

Hank smiled faintly. “It’s a start. And if you need anything or have questions, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Sure,” Alexandria said, her tone flat. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

As Hank left her to settle in, Alexandria stared out the window, her thoughts racing. The enormity of her situation was starting to sink in. This was supposed to be a new beginning, but it felt more like another form of confinement.

She stared down at the baggy jeans she was currently wearing, something that probably came from deep inside Wanda’s closet.

Alexandria wasn’t much for talking, nor did she know what to do. Usually, she was only let out of her cell for lab-time, which lasted the entire day, before being thrown back into her cell.

She sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the small, framed picture of the school grounds that hung on the wall. The room, though modest, was far from the sterile, cold environment she’d been accustomed to. But that didn’t make it feel any less isolating. The quiet was oppressive, and she found herself fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, a nervous habit she’d developed over the years.

A knock on the door startled her out of her thoughts. She stood up quickly, her pulse quickening. It was probably someone from the staff, here to check on her or give her some new set of instructions.

“Hey,” a voice called through the door. “It’s me, Kitty. Mind if I come in?”

Alexandria hesitated for a moment before opening the door. A girl about her age stood there, wearing a casual hoodie and jeans. Her brown hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, and her eyes were a warm brown, filled with curiosity.

“Hi,” Kitty said with a friendly smile. “Charles sent me to see if you needed anything. I’m one of the students here.”

“Uh, sure,” Alexandria said, stepping aside to let her in. “I didn’t know anyone was coming by.”

Kitty stepped into the room, looking around with a mixture of interest and sympathy. “I know it’s probably a lot to take in right now. I remember my first few days here weren’t exactly easy.”

Alexandria sat back down on her bed, feeling a bit self-conscious. “It’s... different. I’ve never been to a place like this before.”

Kitty nodded, taking a seat on the small desk chair. “Yeah, it’s a lot to get used to. But it’s a good place. People here care about each other. I know it might not feel that way right now, but it does get better.”

“Do you really think so?” Alexandria asked, her skepticism evident.

“Absolutely,” Kitty replied earnestly. “I know it sounds cliché, but this place is like a family for a lot of us. You might not feel it yet, but you’re not alone.”

Alexandria shrugged, not entirely convinced. “I guess we’ll see.”

Kitty tilted her head, studying Alexandria for a moment. “You’ve probably been through a lot, right? With HYDRA and all that?”

“More than you could imagine,” Alexandria muttered. She hadn’t talked much about her past, even to the Avengers. It was easier to keep it all inside, where it couldn’t hurt anyone else.

Kitty’s expression softened. “If you ever want to talk, I’m here. Sometimes it helps to get things off your chest.”

“Thanks,” Alexandria said, though her tone suggested she wasn’t ready to take her up on the offer just yet.

Kitty stood up, giving her a reassuring smile. “Well, I won’t keep you. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay and see if you needed anything. If you do, just let me or any of the staff know.”

“Alright,” Alexandria said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Kitty nodded and made her way to the door. “See you around, Alexandria.”

As Kitty left, Alexandria sat back down on her bed, feeling the quiet settle around her again. The small bit of interaction had been a welcome distraction, but it also left her feeling more alone than before. She wasn’t used to people reaching out, and it made her wary.

And because she was wary, she spent the rest of the day in her room trying to figure out what the object on her desk was. It looked almost like a small, compact box, with many wires connecting to it.

After hours of trying to understand, night fell, and she needed a break. Alexandria grabbed a pack of cigarettes and a lighter before walking through the empty halls.

Finally, Alexandria stepped through a side door and found herself in a large, open field surrounded by trees. The night air was cool, and the quiet was a welcome contrast to the clamor of her thoughts. She lit her cigarette, the tip glowing softly in the darkness, and took a long drag. The smoke curled around her, blending with the shadows.

She leaned against the door frame, looking out at the expanse of grass and trees. The quiet of the night felt different here, less oppressive than the silence of her room. Maybe it was the openness, or maybe it was the fact that she was alone, and for the moment, she didn't have to pretend to be okay.

"Smoking's bad for you, you know," a gruff voice said from behind her.

Alexandria tensed, turning to see Logan standing there, someone Hank had mentioned to her, his arms crossed over his chest. His expression was hard to read, but his eyes held a hint of curiosity.

She took another drag from her cigarette, exhaling slowly. "So I've heard."

Logan stepped closer, his gaze fixed on her. "You planning to make this a habit, or just tonight?"

"Does it matter?" she replied, her tone defensive.

"Maybe not to you," Logan said, "but to the people around here, it does. They care about what happens to you."

Alexandria let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, right. I'm just another problem for them to solve."

"You're not a problem," Logan said, his voice firm. "You're a kid who's been through hell and needs a chance to find herself again."

“Find myself?” she scoffed. “There’s nothing to find.” Alexandria turned to face Logan, who lit a cigar, much bigger than her cigarette. She scoffed again. “You’re one to talk.”

Logan took a long drag from his cigar, the end flaring bright in the dark. “I’m not here to lecture you, bub. Just saying it like it is.”

Alexandria rolled her eyes, taking another drag from her cigarette. “Yeah, well, I don’t need your advice.”

Logan’s gaze was steady, unyielding. “You might not want it, but you sure as hell need it.”

“Why do you even care?” she snapped. “You don’t know me.”

Logan exhaled a plume of smoke, his eyes never leaving hers. “No, I don’t. But I’ve seen enough kids like you to know when someone’s hurting. And I’m here to tell you, you don’t have to go through it alone.”

She rolled her eyes, dropping her cigarette and stomping out the light. “I’d much rather be alone.”

Logan watched as Alexandria stomped out her cigarette, the ember disappearing into the grass. The silence that followed was heavy, and he could see the tension in her posture. He took another drag from his cigar, letting the smoke curl around him before letting it out in a slow stream.

"You think pushing people away is gonna make things better?" Logan asked, his voice rough but not unkind.

Alexandria didn’t respond immediately, her gaze fixed on the dark field ahead. “It’s easier this way. Less chance of someone screwing things up.”

“Yeah, 'cause being alone always solves everything,” Logan replied sarcastically. “Look, I get it. You’re used to keeping people at arm’s length. But if you keep shutting everyone out, you’re never gonna get what you need.”

“What I need is to be left alone,” Alexandria snapped. “I’ve survived this long on my own. I don’t need a bunch of strangers telling me what to do.”

Logan took a few steps closer, the crunch of his boots on the gravel breaking the silence. “And how’s that working out for you? You ever stop to think that maybe you’re just scared to let anyone in?”

Alexandria shot him a sharp look. “I’m not scared. I’m practical. I know what happens when you let people get close.”

“And what’s that?” Logan asked, his voice low and steady.

“They get hurt,” Alexandria said flatly. “Or worse, they end up hurting you.”

Logan shook his head. “You’re making it sound like everyone’s out to get you. That’s not true. Some people actually want to help, but they can’t do it if you keep pushing them away.”

“Everyone is out to get me. I let someone in before and it didn’t end so well for them.” She shook her head gently, removing the graphic, bloody images from her head.

The anger and pain inside her were like a storm, churning and relentless. She didn’t know how to let anyone in, how to trust after everything she’d been through. HYDRA had stripped her of that ability, leaving her with nothing but suspicion and fear.

Logan sighed, taking another drag from his cigar. “Look, kid, I’m not saying it’s gonna be easy. Hell, it’s probably gonna be the hardest thing you’ve ever done. But you’ve got a chance here, a real shot at something better. Don’t throw it away because you’re scared.”

Alexandria glanced at him, her expression softening ever so slightly. There was something in Logan’s eyes, a flicker of understanding that made her want to believe him. But the walls she’d built were high and thick, and she wasn’t sure she could tear them down.

“I’ll think about it,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Logan nodded, his gaze steady. “That’s all I’m asking. Just give it a shot.”

With that, he turned and walked back toward the mansion, leaving Alexandria alone with her thoughts. She watched him go, feeling a strange mix of frustration and hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way out of the darkness that had consumed her life for so long. But it would take more than a few words from a gruff stranger to convince her.

She stayed outside for a while longer, the cool night air helping to clear her mind. When she finally went back inside, the mansion was quiet, most of the residents already asleep. She made her way to her room, the events of the day playing over and over in her mind.

As she lay in bed, she thought about what Logan had said. She wasn’t ready to trust, not yet. But maybe, in time, she could find a way to let someone in. For now, she would take it one day at a time, trying to navigate this new world she’d been thrust into.

---

The following morning, Alexandria awoke to a soft knock on her door. She groggily sat up, rubbing her eyes as the door opened slightly, and Kitty peeked her head in.

“Hey, sorry to wake you,” Kitty said with an apologetic smile. “But I thought you might want some breakfast. We have a pretty good spread in the dining hall.”

Alexandria stretched and nodded, still not fully awake. “Yeah, sure. Thanks, Kitty.”

“No problem,” Kitty replied. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

After quickly changing into some clothes that fit her better, Alexandria joined Kitty in the hallway. The two girls walked to the dining hall together, the atmosphere between them more relaxed than it had been the previous day.

“So, how was your first night?” Kitty asked as they walked.

Alexandria shrugged. “It was okay, I guess. A lot to take in.”

Kitty nodded in understanding. “Yeah, I get that. But trust me, it gets better. The people here are really great once you get to know them.”

When they reached the dining hall, Alexandria was surprised to see how lively it was. Students were chatting, laughing, and eating together, the room filled with a sense of camaraderie and belonging. It was a stark contrast to the isolation she’d known for so long.

As they grabbed their food and sat down, Alexandria couldn’t help but feel a bit out of place. But Kitty was friendly and patient, introducing her to some of the other students and helping her feel more at ease.

Alexandria looked at the food on her tray. Some of it was colorful, in fact, it all was. There were red triangular objects on her tray with a green leafy top, a fluffy golden-brown circle, and a small cup of amber liquid.

Alexandria stared at the food on her tray, her brow furrowed in confusion. She poked at the red triangular object with a fork, then glanced over at Kitty, who was already digging into her own breakfast.

“What’s this?” Alexandria asked, holding up the fork with the red object speared on the end.

Kitty looked over and grinned. “That’s a strawberry. Haven’t you had one before?”

Alexandria shook her head, eyeing the strawberry warily. “Not that I remember.”

Kitty’s expression softened. “You should try it. They’re pretty good.”

With some hesitation, Alexandria took a small bite of the strawberry. The sweet and slightly tangy taste was foreign to her, but not unpleasant. She nodded slowly, chewing thoughtfully. “It’s... different.”

Kitty laughed. “Yeah, in a good way, though. That round thing is a pancake, and the syrup is for pouring on top. Trust me, breakfast here is usually a highlight.”

Alexandria mimicked Kitty’s actions, pouring a small amount of syrup onto the pancake and taking a cautious bite. The flavors were rich and comforting, and she found herself enjoying it more than she expected.

As they ate, the din of the dining hall continued around them. Alexandria noticed how the other students seemed at ease, joking around and chatting as if they didn’t have a care in the world. It was strange to see so many people with powers like hers acting so... normal.

“So, what’s on the agenda today?” Alexandria asked, trying to sound casual but feeling a bit lost.

“Well,” Kitty began, “after breakfast, there’s usually some training sessions. You’ll probably have an orientation with Professor Xavier and maybe some one-on-one time with one of the teachers to figure out where you’re at with your abilities.”

Alexandria nodded, pushing her half-finished pancake around on her plate. “Sounds like fun,” she muttered sarcastically.

Kitty smiled sympathetically. “It might not be as bad as you think. Plus, it’s good to know what you can do. There are some pretty cool things you could learn here.”

Alexandria took a sip of her juice, trying to ignore the bustling energy of the room. “Yeah, well, we'll see.”

Kitty looked around at the other students who were beginning to head off for their various activities. “Hey, you want me to show you around a bit more before the orientation starts? I can give you the rundown on some of the places you might want to know about.”

Alexandria shrugged, finishing off her pancake. “Sure, why not. Couldn’t hurt to know what I’m dealing with.”

Kitty led her out of the dining hall, guiding her through the maze of corridors. “So, that’s the library over there. It’s got a lot of books on pretty much everything—powers, history, science. It’s a good place to catch up on some reading.”

Alexandria glanced over. “Got it. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“And over here is the common room,” Kitty continued. “It’s where everyone hangs out, watches TV, plays games. It’s pretty chill.”

Alexandria raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like a place I’ll avoid.”

Kitty laughed softly. “Fair enough. Oh, and there’s a small gym off to the side. It’s not as big as the main one, but it’s good for some light workouts.”

As they walked, Alexandria’s gaze drifted to the various students passing by, their casual conversations and easy smiles making her feel like an outsider. She didn’t belong here, and she wasn’t sure if she ever would.

“So, how do you get on with the teachers?” Alexandria asked, trying to shift the focus of the conversation away from her discomfort.

Kitty’s expression turned thoughtful. “They’re pretty great, actually. Professor Xavier is really understanding, and Hank is super smart. There are a few others who are great too, but it depends on what you need.”

“Yeah? And what about Logan?” Alexandria asked, her tone a little sharper than she intended.

Kitty hesitated before answering. “Logan’s... Logan. He’s got his own way of doing things, but he means well. You’ll get used to him.”

“I met him the other night,” Alexandria said, her voice dropping to a murmur. “He didn’t seem all that interested in being nice.”

Kitty nodded. “That’s kind of his style. He’s not exactly a touchy-feely kind of guy, but he’s got a good heart. If you ever need anything, though, he might surprise you.”

“Yeah, I’m not holding my breath,” Alexandria muttered, more to herself than to Kitty.

Kitty gave her a sympathetic look. “Just keep an open mind. Things might not seem great now, but you might find some unexpected allies.”

As they reached the main area of the mansion where students gathered before heading to their various activities, Kitty turned to Alexandria. “I think we’ve covered the basics. How about we head to the training room? That’s where you’ll be meeting with Professor Xavier.”

Alexandria nodded, her mood lifting slightly at the prospect of getting some structure to her day. “Alright, lead the way.”

Kitty guided her through a series of hallways until they arrived at the training room. The door was slightly ajar, and the sounds of conversation and movement filtered through.

“Here we are,” Kitty said. “I’ll leave you to it. Good luck, Alexandria.”

“Thanks, Kitty,” Alexandria replied, watching as Kitty walked away. She took a deep breath and pushed open the door, stepping into the room.

Inside, Professor Xavier was waiting, his wheelchair positioned near a set of training equipment. He looked up as Alexandria entered, his expression warm and welcoming.

“Good morning, Alexandria,” he said. “I trust you’re settling in?”

Alexandria nodded, though she didn’t quite meet his gaze. “Yeah, I guess. Kitty gave me a quick tour.”

“That’s good to hear,” Professor Xavier said. “Today, I’d like to start with an assessment of your abilities. It’ll help us understand what you can do and how we can best support you.”

Alexandria braced herself, feeling a mix of nerves and irritation. “Alright. What do you need me to do?”

Professor Xavier gestured to an open area of the room. “Why don’t we start with a demonstration of your powers? If you’re comfortable, show me what you can do with dream-weaving and telekinesis.”

Alexandria took a deep breath and moved to the center of the room. She closed her eyes, focusing on her ability to manipulate dreams. She’d rarely demonstrated her powers to anyone outside of HYDRA, and the idea of doing it now made her uneasy.

She visualized a simple scenario- a peaceful meadow with gentle breezes and blooming flowers. The air around her seemed to shimmer slightly as the dreamscape began to take shape. When she opened her eyes, she saw that a small, serene meadow had appeared in the room, though it was more a projection than a physical space.

“Impressive,” Professor Xavier said, observing the scene with interest. “And what about telekinesis?”

Alexandria moved her hand slightly, and a nearby object- a small training ball- levitated off the ground, spinning slowly in the air, covered in her blue telekinetic hue. She held it there for a few moments before setting it back down.

“That’s very good,” Professor Xavier said. “You’ve got a strong control over your abilities. We’ll work on refining them and exploring how they can be used in various situations.”

Alexandria crossed her arms, still feeling the unease bubbling beneath the surface. “And what happens if I don’t want to use them?”

Professor Xavier’s expression remained calm, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes. “That’s entirely up to you. Our goal here isn’t to force you into anything, Alexandria. We’re here to help you understand your powers and give you the tools to decide how you want to use them, or not use them.”

She hesitated, her gaze drifting to the floor. “Yeah, well, understanding them didn’t really work out for me before.”

“Your experiences were under very different circumstances,” Professor Xavier said gently. “But you’re safe here, and you have the freedom to choose your path. No one here will push you into anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Alexandria looked up, meeting his gaze for a moment. There was sincerity in his words, and for the first time since she’d arrived, she felt a tiny spark of hope that maybe—just maybe—things could be different here.

“Alright,” she finally said, her voice a little softer. “What’s next?”

“We’ll take it one step at a time,” Professor Xavier said, his tone reassuring. “For now, I’d like you to get familiar with the training room and the equipment. You’ll be working with some of the other students, but if you ever need time alone, just let me or any of the teachers know.”

He led the way in his wheelchair to a different section of the training room, eerily familiar to the setup the Avengers had.

But she doesn’t like training rooms. Too many needles, wires, and electrodes attached to her and called ‘training’. It wasn’t training, it was torture. Studying her brainwaves, her movements, how her powers worked, it made her hate training.

While she’s partially sure there was none of that here, she still had to ask. Alexandria wrangled her hands before keeping them at her side, trying to seem normal and not at all disturbed. “There’s not… any- you know, electrodes or anything, is there?” she asked quietly.

Charles looked up at her, a hint of sadness in his eyes. It was the softest he had heard Alexandria’s voice since she arrived and the closest he had seen her act like her age. For a moment, he hesitated, weighing his words carefully.

“No, Alexandria,” he said gently, his tone reassuring. “There are no electrodes or anything of that sort here. This is a safe place for you to explore your abilities at your own pace. The only equipment you’ll use is designed to help you understand and control your powers better—nothing invasive, I promise.”

Alexandria nodded slowly, though the tension in her shoulders remained. “Okay,” she murmured, glancing around the room again. It was a lot to take in, but at least she wasn’t going to be hooked up to any machines. That was a relief.

Professor Xavier offered her a small, encouraging smile. “Would you like to try out some of the equipment now, or would you prefer to take a break and come back later?”

She hesitated, unsure of what she wanted. Part of her wanted to get it over with, to face whatever challenges were ahead, but another part of her just wanted to be alone, away from everything and everyone.

“I guess… I could try something small,” Alexandria finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Just to see what it’s like.”

“Of course,” Professor Xavier replied, nodding approvingly. “Why don’t we start with something simple? We have a training dummy over there,” he gestured to a humanoid figure across the room, “that’s designed to react to telekinetic force. You can try moving it, just to get a feel for your abilities in a controlled environment.”

Alexandria followed his gaze to the dummy, her expression unreadable. She wasn’t sure how she felt about this whole thing, but she figured it was better than sitting around doing nothing. At least it was a distraction.

She approached the dummy slowly, her steps hesitant. When she was close enough, she raised her hand and focused on the dummy, trying to summon the telekinetic energy within her. For a moment, nothing happened, and she felt a flicker of frustration.

Then, with a deep breath, she tried again. This time, a faint blue aura surrounded the dummy, and it lifted off the ground slightly, wobbling in the air.

“Good,” Professor Xavier encouraged from behind her. “Take your time, there’s no rush.”

Alexandria’s brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to maintain control over the dummy. It wasn’t as easy as she thought it would be, and she could feel her frustration growing. The dummy began to wobble more, and she clenched her fists, willing it to stay steady.

But her frustration got the better of her, and the dummy suddenly shot across the room, slamming into the wall with a loud crash. Alexandria flinched, her hands dropping to her sides as she took a step back, her heart pounding.

“Sorry,” she muttered, feeling a mix of anger and embarrassment.

“There’s no need to apologize,” Professor Xavier said calmly. “You’re doing well, Alexandria. It’s natural to have moments of frustration, especially when you’re trying something new. The important thing is that you’re trying.”

Alexandria didn’t respond, her gaze fixed on the floor. She hated feeling out of control, hated how her emotions seemed to dictate everything. It was a reminder of all the times she’d lost control in the past, with disastrous results.

Professor Xavier wheeled closer to her, his expression thoughtful. “Would you like to take a break? We can continue this later if you’re feeling overwhelmed.”

She shook her head, a stubborn look crossing her face. “No, I’m fine. I just… need a minute.”

“Take all the time you need,” Professor Xavier said softly. “There’s no pressure here, Alexandria. We’re here to help you, not to push you.”

Alexandria took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside her. She knew she couldn’t keep avoiding her powers forever, and maybe this was the best place to start figuring things out. But it was hard, harder than she’d expected.

“Okay,” she said after a moment, her voice steadier. “I’ll try again.”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Professor Xavier encouraged.

She took another deep breath and focused on the dummy again. This time, she tried to keep her emotions in check, to approach it with a calmer mindset. The blue aura returned, and the dummy lifted off the ground once more. It wobbled slightly, but this time she was able to keep it steady, holding it in the air for a few moments before gently lowering it back to the ground.

“Good job, Alexandria,” Professor Xavier said, a note of pride in his voice. “You’re making progress.”

She nodded, a small sense of accomplishment filling her. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Maybe, just maybe, she could get a handle on her powers after all.

“That should be good for today. I can have Kitty introduce you to some of the other students if you would like?” Charles asked.

Alexandria considered Professor Xavier’s suggestion, her mind still buzzing from the training session. Interacting with other students wasn’t high on her list of priorities, but she knew that isolating herself wasn’t going to help her in the long run. Still, the thought of making small talk or having to deal with people who would undoubtedly be curious about her past made her uneasy.

“I guess,” she said after a moment, shrugging. “It’s not like I have anything else to do.”

“Very well,” Professor Xavier replied with a nod. “I’ll have Kitty meet you outside the training room. She can introduce you to some of the others.”

Alexandria didn’t say anything, just nodded back, trying to suppress the anxiety that was bubbling up inside her. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but she figured she might as well get it over with.

“Before you go,” Professor Xavier added, his tone gentle but firm, “remember that you’re not alone here. It might feel overwhelming now, but you’ll find your place in time. Be patient with yourself.”

��Yeah,” Alexandria muttered, not entirely convinced but not wanting to argue either. “I’ll try.”

She turned and headed for the door, her footsteps echoing in the quiet training room. When she stepped outside, she found Kitty waiting for her, leaning against the wall with a friendly smile.

“Hey,” Kitty greeted, straightening up. “How’d it go?”

Alexandria shrugged. “It was fine, I guess. Just trying to figure things out.”

“That’s normal,” Kitty said, her voice light. “It takes time, but you’ll get there. Anyway, ready to meet some of the others?”

“I suppose,” Alexandria replied, her tone noncommittal. She wasn’t exactly looking forward to it, but she knew it was inevitable.

Kitty led her down the hallway, the sound of their footsteps the only noise between them for a moment. Alexandria could sense Kitty glancing at her occasionally, probably trying to gauge how she was feeling. She appreciated the effort, even if she wasn’t in the mood to talk about it.

“So,” Kitty began, breaking the silence, “I was thinking we could start with the common room. A lot of the students hang out there between classes and training sessions. It’s pretty laid-back.”

“Alright,” Alexandria said, keeping her responses short. She wasn’t trying to be rude, but she wasn’t sure how to engage in light conversation, especially with someone she barely knew.

When they reached the common room, Alexandria was struck by how relaxed everyone seemed. Students were scattered around the space, some playing video games, others watching TV, and a few just talking or reading.

“Over there’s Bobby,” Kitty said, nodding toward a guy who was absorbed in a video game. “He’s pretty chill, likes to freeze things.”

“Freeze things?” Alexandria asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, he’s got ice powers. Cool, right?” Kitty said with a grin.

“Sure,” Alexandria replied, trying to muster some enthusiasm but mostly feeling out of place.

“And that’s Jubilee,” Kitty continued, pointing out a girl with bright yellow sunglasses who was chatting animatedly with a couple of other students. “She’s a blast—literally. She can generate fireworks.”

“Fireworks,” Alexandria repeated, her tone flat. It sounded more like a party trick than a power, but she kept that thought to herself.

Kitty seemed to sense her unease and gave her a reassuring smile. “They’re all good people. It might take some time, but you’ll get to know them. And they’ll get to know you.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Alexandria muttered, not entirely convinced.

As they walked further into the room, a familiar figure caught Alexandria’s eye. Logan was sitting in a corner, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face as he watched the room with a look of vague irritation. He hadn’t noticed her yet, and Alexandria wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

“Logan’s over there,” Kitty said, following her gaze. “You two met, right?”

“Yeah,” Alexandria replied, her voice tight. “Briefly.”

Kitty hesitated, picking up on the tension in Alexandria’s tone. “He’s a bit rough around the edges, but he’s one of the best. He’s been through a lot, like you.”

Alexandria’s jaw tightened. She didn’t need anyone comparing her to Logan or anyone else. “I’m sure he’s great,” she said, her tone clipped.

Kitty glanced at her but didn’t push the subject. Instead, she gestured to a group of students who were chatting near the windows. “Those are some of the newer students. Might be easier to talk to them since they’re still figuring things out too.”

Alexandria looked over at the group, noticing how at ease they seemed with each other. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy. She hadn’t felt that kind of comfort around others in a long time, maybe ever.

“Maybe later,” she said, not ready to dive into socializing just yet.

Kitty nodded, understanding. “No rush. You can take your time.”

Alexandria looked over at the TV, a movie playing as a bunch of the students sat around the couch and the floors entranced by it.

“Oh, Scott likes to watch Star Wars, most of the time a lot of us end up joining in.” Kitty explained.

“What’s… Star Wars?” Alexandria asked slowly.

“It’s a movie- or well, a bunch of different movies and shows. It’s a franchise.”

Alexandria tilted her head at the large TV screen, currently a girl in an all-white dress kissed a dirty-blonde boy’s cheek before he swung them across some sort of room.

It was intriguing, or maybe that’s just because she’s never seen a movie.

Kitty noticed Alexandria’s gaze fixed on the TV screen, her curiosity evident. She gave her a gentle nudge, breaking the silence. “We can stay and watch it if you’d like. I’m sure Scott won’t mind. He’s a big geek about this stuff.”

Alexandria hesitated, glancing back at Kitty with a mixture of uncertainty and intrigue. “I’ve never really watched movies before.”

Kitty’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Never? Well, this is a good place to start. Star Wars is pretty iconic, and it’s one of those things that a lot of people here are into.”

Alexandria looked back at the screen, where a space battle was unfolding amidst flashing lights and dramatic music. The idea of sitting down and watching a movie felt foreign, but also oddly appealing. “Alright,” she said finally. “I guess I can give it a try.”

Kitty smiled, leading her over to the group around the TV. Scott, a tall guy with a pair of glasses perched on his nose, glanced up from the screen as they approached. “Hey, Kitty! And, um, Alexandria, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Alexandria replied, trying to sound more relaxed than she felt.

“Great to meet you properly,” Scott said with a friendly smile. “We’re just getting into one of the best parts. You’re welcome to join us.”

Alexandria nodded, taking a seat on the couch. The other students, already absorbed in the movie, barely glanced up, which was fine by her. She sank into the cushion, trying to focus on the action-packed scenes.

Kitty settled beside her, giving a small wave to Scott and the others. “I told her you’d be okay with us joining in.”

Scott nodded, adjusting his glasses as he turned back to the screen. “No problem at all. It’s always good to have more people to discuss the movie with. We’re in the middle of the epic lightsaber duel. It’s one of my favorite parts.”

As the movie progressed, Alexandria found herself drawn into the story. The special effects were unlike anything she had ever seen, and the characters seemed to be larger than life. She didn’t fully understand all the details yet, but there was something captivating about the narrative and the way the students reacted to it.

Kitty leaned over and whispered, “So, what do you think so far?”

“It’s… different,” Alexandria admitted, her eyes still fixed on the screen. “I can see why people like it.”

Kitty grinned. “Yeah, it’s pretty immersive. And there’s a whole series of these movies, plus spin-offs and shows. It’s a bit of a rabbit hole.”

Alexandria raised an eyebrow. “How many movies are there?”

“Quite a few,” Kitty said with a chuckle. “But you don’t have to watch them all at once. We can always catch up on more later if you’re interested.”

“Hold on, Kitty.” Scott said, “there’s a certain way it should be watched. Some will say release date order, some will say chronologically, but I say no to both. It should be Episode 4, 5, then 1, 2, 3, then 6.”

Alexandria’s eyes widened, “there’s… that many?”

“Well, technically more than that, but those are the ones that really count,” Scott said, his enthusiasm evident.

Alexandria leaned back on the couch, her eyes still glued to the screen. “I didn’t realize there was so much to it,” she said, her tone carrying a hint of amazement.

Kitty smiled. “Yeah, it can be a bit overwhelming at first, but it’s all part of the fun. You get to dive into this whole new universe.”

“You know what that means, right guys?” Scott asked.

A girl, sitting on the floor in front of Scott looked up at him, “Scott…” she gritted out, almost teasingly.

“Star Wars marathon!” Scott exclaimed.

Kitty leaned in to Alexandria as some of the kids groaned and others were amused. “That girl is Jean.” She gestured to the girl sitting in front of Scott, who was now rolling her eyes.

“Jean, huh?” Alexandria said, watching as Jean settled back into her spot on the floor, a bemused expression on her face.

“Yeah, she’s got some pretty impressive telepathic abilities,” Kitty said. “She’s one of the more powerful telepaths around here. But she’s cool.”

Alexandria raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite herself. She thought back to the cubed shaped thing on her desk, if Scott knew all about movies, then maybe he knew about… whatever that was.

“Um, Scott? What’s that thing on the desk? The… cubed thing?” Alexandria asked.

“That’s a computer.” He answered, shoveling popcorn into his mouth. “Do you know how to use it?”

She shook her head no.

Scott’s eyes widened in surprise. “You don’t know how to use a computer?” He looked at her with a mix of curiosity and concern. “It’s pretty basic. You can do a lot of things with it—surf the web, write documents, watch videos. But it takes some getting used to.”

Alexandria shrugged. “I’ve never seen one. What’s so special about it?”

Scott tilted his head, clearly intrigued by Alexandria’s unfamiliarity with something so commonplace. “Well, it’s one of those tools that make life a lot easier. It’s like a window to the world. You can find almost anything you need on the internet.”

Kitty, sensing that Alexandria was feeling out of her element, chimed in. “If you want, we can have a quick tutorial later. It’s not that hard once you get the hang of it.”

Alexandria looked at the computer again, her curiosity piqued. “Maybe. For now, I guess I’ll just stick to figuring out this Star Wars thing.”

Scott grinned, clearly happy to have a new project. “We can definitely work on that. Maybe after the movie, we can set up a session to show you the basics.”

“Sure,” Alexandria said, her tone more engaged than before. “I’m willing to give it a try.”

---

After the group finished the movie, which was after Scott rewound it to the beginning for Alexandria, him and Kitty taught her how to use the computer before they had to go to class.

As she browsed the web, some term Scott used, she realized it was late at night, around 11 o’clock. She took a quick shower and got into what Jean called pajamas, before getting into bed.

Sleep couldn’t claim her. The problem with her powers was that she could see people’s dreams, which was fine when she was with HYDRA, since she was either far away from other people, or they put her in her specialized cell.

Once the clock hit 2:48, Alexandria got out of bed and grabbed a cigarette and her lighter from her bag before heading up to the roof.

Last night, Logan was smoking by the side door, but tonight, and possibly all other nights in the future, the roof seemed like a better, more quiet place.

Alexandria stepped out onto the roof, the cool night air greeting her with a briskness that made her shiver. She leaned against the railing, the city lights twinkling far below. She flicked the lighter, the tiny flame illuminating her face for a moment before she took a drag.

As she exhaled, the smoke curling into the night, she heard the faintest sound of movement behind her. It wasn’t unexpected; she had a feeling she wasn’t the only one who sought the quiet solitude of the rooftop at odd hours.

After a few minutes of peace, the door at the ground floor opened up, with Logan stepping outside and smoking his own cigar. She was glad she wasn’t down there; she had enough human interaction to last a lifetime.

As she looked up at the sky, she realized quickly that she’d never seen stars before. Which was out of the ordinary, or weird, considering most people connect nighttime and dreams with the stars.

Out here, where there were almost no other signs of civilization, the stars seemed to shine brighter than she thought possible.

Alexandria decided to sit on the ledge of the building, her legs dangling and swinging, hitting the brick’s gently as she continued to look up at the night sky, her cigarette forgotten in her hand.

Down on the ground, Logan was finishing his own cigar. He had come out to the side door for some fresh air, his usual gruff demeanor on full display as he paced, taking long, deliberate drags from his cigar. The rooftop wasn’t the only place in the mansion that offered solitude, but Logan found the chill of the night air soothing.

As he neared the side of the building, Logan noticed a faint sound of movement from above. He squinted up, barely making out Alexandria’s figure silhouetted against the night sky. He grunted and took another drag, deciding to keep to his own space rather than investigate further.

Alexandria’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, the stars above providing a stark contrast to the chaos she had known. For a moment, she felt disconnected from her past, as if the night sky was a canvas offering a new beginning. She let the cigarette fall from her fingers, the small ember disappearing into the night air.

Suddenly, a light shone up from below, catching her attention. It was Logan’s cigar, glowing brightly as he took another drag. She couldn’t make out his face from this distance, but his presence was unmistakable. Alexandria’s instincts told her to retreat, to avoid any unnecessary interaction.

But Logan, in his usual fashion, wasn’t one to ignore an anomaly. He looked up again, his gaze searching for the source of the disturbance. The flicker of the cigarette's ember had caught his attention. He grunted softly, debating whether to climb the stairs or simply ignore it.

Eventually, his curiosity got the better of him. With a resigned sigh, Logan made his way to the rooftop access and began his ascent. As he approached, he could see Alexandria more clearly now- perched on the edge, seemingly lost in thought.

Logan didn’t bother with pleasantries. “Couldn’t sleep?” he called up to her, his voice carrying over the distance between them.

Alexandria looked down, her face expressionless. “Not really. Just needed some air.”

Logan grunted in acknowledgment. He walked over to the edge of the roof, leaning against the railing as he surveyed the view. “You got a problem with the stars or something?”

Alexandria shrugged. “No. Just never really seen them before.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, glancing over at her. “You mean to tell me you’ve never been outside much?”

Alexandria gave a short, bitter laugh. “Not until recently, no.”

Logan grunted, not quite sure how to respond to that. He wasn’t good with feelings, especially other people’s. He settled for taking another drag from his cigar, letting the silence hang between them for a moment.

"Not exactly the kind of thing you'd expect to hear around here," he finally said, more to himself than to her. “You’ve been through the wringer, huh?”

Alexandria nodded, her gaze still fixed on the stars. “You could say that.”

Logan watched her for a moment, trying to gauge what kind of person she was. She was tough, that much was obvious, but there was something else there too—something that reminded him a little too much of himself. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

He decided to keep it simple. “You’ll figure it out,” he said, his tone gruff but not unkind. “This place isn’t perfect, but it’s better than the alternatives.”

“Is it?” Alexandria asked, her voice carrying a hint of skepticism. “Or is it just another place with its own set of problems?”

Logan smirked, appreciating her bluntness. “Depends on how you look at it. Everyone’s got their own demons. But here, you might actually have a shot at dealing with ‘em.”

Alexandria shifted her gaze from the stars to Logan. “And what about you? What are you dealing with?”

Logan wasn’t one to open up about his past, especially not to someone he barely knew. But there was something about the way she asked the question—direct, no-nonsense—that made him consider it, if only for a second.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” he said, deflecting. “Just focus on yourself for now.”

She didn’t press further, sensing that he wasn’t the type to share more than he wanted to. Instead, she nodded, accepting his answer without any more questions.

They stood in silence for a while, the night air cool against their skin. Logan was content with the quiet, but he could tell Alexandria was still restless.

“Why do you stay here?” Alexandria asked, breaking the silence but keeping her gaze on the stars.

Logan took a deep drag from his cigar, exhaling slowly as he considered her question. “It’s as good a place as any,” he replied, his tone neutral. “Better than most, actually. Got people here who understand.”

“Understand what?” she pressed, turning her eyes to him, searching for something in his expression.

Logan met her gaze, his own hard and unreadable. “What it’s like to have a past that doesn’t let go,” he said simply. “This place gives you a chance to move forward, if you let it.”

Alexandria snorted softly, a hint of bitterness in the sound. “Sounds like you’re trying to sell me something.”

Logan shrugged, unbothered by her cynicism. “Not selling anything. Just telling it like it is.”

She looked back at the sky, her fingers drumming lightly against the brick. “I’ve been around people who claimed they could help before. Never turned out well.”

“Yeah, well,” Logan said, flicking ash from his cigar, “this place isn’t perfect. But it’s different. Nobody here’s gonna bullshit you. And you’ll have to pull your own weight.”

Alexandria’s lips twitched in what could almost be mistaken for a smile, but there was no humor in it. “Pull my own weight. That I can do.”

“I’m sure,” Logan replied, his tone dry.

They lapsed back into silence, but it was less uncomfortable this time, as if they’d reached some sort of understanding. Alexandria leaned back on her hands, still sitting on the edge of the building, letting the night breeze cool her skin.

Logan finished his cigar and glanced over at her, noticing the way she seemed to relax, even if just a little. “You planning on sitting out here all night?” he asked, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

“Maybe,” Alexandria answered, noncommittal. “Why? You worried about me?”

Logan’s smirk was barely visible in the dim light. “Not my style to worry about anyone.”

“Good,” she replied, her tone matching his. “I don’t need anyone worrying about me.”

“Figured as much,” Logan said, pushing himself off the railing. “Just remember, you don’t have to do everything alone here. But you do have to show up. Can’t just hide out on rooftops.”

Alexandria gave a slight nod, acknowledging his words but not committing to anything. Logan didn’t push further; he’d said what he needed to say. With a final glance at her, he turned and headed back toward the door.

“Logan,” Alexandria called out, just as he reached the stairwell.

He paused, looking back at her. “Yeah?”

She hesitated, then shrugged, as if she wasn’t sure what she wanted to say. “Thanks. For… you know.”

Logan gave a short nod, his expression softening just a fraction. “Don’t mention it.”

With that, he disappeared down the stairs, leaving Alexandria alone on the rooftop once more. She watched the door close behind him, then turned her attention back to the stars. Maybe this place was different.

#logan howlett #logan howlett x oc #logan howlett x original character #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x oc #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x alexandria sokolova #sweet dreams #project reverie

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mariacallous · 3 months ago

Text

Wading through the latest dreck from the 2024 campaign, it seems that a racist congressman from Louisiana has demanded that the mythic dog-and-cat-eating, “vudu”-practicing Haitian immigrants of Springfield, Ohio, slurred by Donald Trump on the national debate stage earlier this month, “better get their mind right and their ass out of our country before January 20th.” Or else. Under pressure from colleagues in the House on Wednesday, the congressman, Clay Higgins, deleted the social-media post. Then hours later he told CNN that he stood by it anyway: “It’s all true. . . . It’s not a big deal to me. It’s like something stuck to the bottom of my boot. Just scrape it off.” Asked about the controversy, House Speaker Mike Johnson called Higgins “a dear friend of mine” and a “very principled man.” As for the tweet, Johnson, an ostentatiously devout Christian, replied, “We move forward. We believe in redemption around here.”

Outrage is an impossible emotion to sustain in this age of manufactured political outrage. I know it; Higgins and Johnson surely know it, too. Indeed, they are counting on it. Who, after all, will remember this particular bit of hate speech next week, when there will undoubtedly be so many newer, fresher outrages to be upset about? But still. Maybe pause a minute on this one. While Democrats agonize over the proper levels of policy detail required to prove Kamala Harris’s suitability for the Presidency, Trump and his acolytes have gone deep into the racist recesses of the American psyche to run a campaign meant to stir the passionate hatreds and deepest insecurities of their followers.

J. D. Vance recently made the mistake of publicly admitting the artifice inherent in all this. In an interview with CNN’s Dana Bash, the Republican Vice-Presidential candidate was asked about the alleged Haitian pet consumption and why he and the former President kept bringing up a story that had no basis in fact. “The American media totally ignored this stuff until Donald Trump and I started talking about cat memes,” he said. “If I have to create stories so that the American media actually pays attention to the suffering of the American people, then that’s what I’m going to do.” When Bash expressed shock at his admission, Vance backpedalled, but barely, claiming that he had, in fact, heard “firsthand accounts” from his constituents, causing him to spread the rumor, never mind that they were swiftly debunked. “But,” he concluded, “yes, we created the actual focus that allowed the American media to talk about this story and the suffering caused by Kamala Harris’s policies.”

Days of coverage ensued about what he did or did not admit in the interview, lost in which was the important point that this was not a “gotcha” story about a single errant statement from Vance but a core belief that has underpinned the MAGA approach to politics since Trump’s demagogic début, nine years ago. The jokes about Trump’s “they’re eating the dogs” debate line might have missed the point, which is that when the laughter fades, the slurs remain. This is how propaganda works. Ask Congressman Higgins.

I was reminded of this when I received a call from Fiona Hill, the top National Security Council aide on Russia for much of Trump’s Presidency. Hill told me that she was stunned by how similar Vance’s defiant embrace of the radicalizing power of stories, whether true or not, was to the views advanced by Vladimir Putin’s chief international propagandist, the Russia state-television personality Margarita Simonyan: So what, in effect, if we make stuff up? “I was just really struck: RT and VT—Vance-Trump—are the same,” she said. “It’s the same weaponization of migration and disinformation.”

The episode recalled for Hill an incident early in Trump’s Presidency, in November of 2017, when Trump tweeted out several inflammatory videos from a British far-right group purporting to show attacks carried out by Muslim immigrants. British officials contacted Hill, urging her to get the White House to have Trump pull down his tweets and disavow them. But, she said, when she brought the concerns to the White House press staff, which was then run by the current governor of Arkansas, Sarah Huckabee Sanders, she was rebuffed. Hill was told that Trump was simply using the videos to further his domestic political agenda. When Sanders was then asked about the tweets by reporters, her response was an uncanny preview of Vance’s recent remarks: “Whether it’s a real video,” she said, “the threat is real.”

Vance’s justification for the Springfield slur—that he was really making a point about “Kamala Harris’s policies”—is a reminder of another one of the big lies powering this election: the charade that Trump is actually an ideological MAGA warrior engaging in legitimate and substantive policy dispute, and that that policy agenda is what makes him appealing to his otherwise unrepresented followers. This canard has been one of the most persistent fallacies we’ve heard from Republicans about Trump, a category error that fundamentally misses what kind of politician he really is.

I was reminded of this often overlooked point while moderating a book launch for “The Origins of Elected Strongmen: How Personalist Parties Destroy Democracy from Within,” an important new academic work by Andrea Kendall-Taylor, a former national-intelligence official covering Russia and Eurasia, and two academic colleagues, Erica Frantz and Joseph Wright. Their study places Trump in the international category to which he properly belongs—that of an aspiring autocrat who has taken over the Republican Party and turned it into a “personalist” vehicle for himself, the type of party that, in the authors’ words, exists “primarily to promote and further the leader’s personal political career rather than advance policy.” This is now a global phenomenon, the authors found—from Brazil under Bolsonaro and Turkey under Erdoğan to less cited cases in El Salvador, Georgia, Poland, Senegal, and Tunisia. Putin’s Russia, regrettably, is the modern archetype, a template going back more than two decades that the others have followed.

Where does all this leave the non-MAGA Republican? We actually know the answer to this one: they are hunkered down, still largely planning to vote the party line, averting their eyes, ignoring the slurs, and pretending that Trump and his campaign are something other than what they are. Nikki Haley offered a pretty clear version of the contortions required by the hard-core Republican partisan who both hates Trump and is voting for him anyway, because, well, the policy. During the début of Haley’s new Sirius XM radio show, on Wednesday, she struggled to explain why she was now publicly endorsing a man that she called “toxic” and “totally unhinged” just a few months ago. She said that she had not forgotten his campaign’s personal attacks on her—including, apparently, putting a bird cage outside of her hotel room to emphasize his insult of her as a “bird brain”—but that she was willing to overlook the insults now, because “politics is not for thin-skinned people” and she needed to think of “the good of our country.” She then listed the economy, the border, national security, and “freedom” as reasons why she would make such a sacrifice. Uh-huh.

To the extent that Trump is promoting policy in 2024 at all, his proposals largely revolve around a single theme: he will wave his magic wand and make problems go away. At the G.O.P. Convention in Milwaukee, he promised, “Under my plan, incomes will skyrocket, inflation will vanish completely, jobs will come roaring back, and the middle class will prosper like never, ever before.” In his rallies, he pledges to end the war in Ukraine “in twenty-four hours.” The Republicans’ all-caps political platform, which was approved at the Convention in Milwaukee after being personally dictated, in part, by Trump, contains planks such as vows to “STOP THE MIGRANT CRIME EPIDEMIC” and “MAKE OUR COLLEGE CAMPUSES SAFE AND PATRIOTIC AGAIN.”

Earlier this week in Georgia, Trump appeared at a campaign rally that was billed as a policy rollout for his plans to inaugurate “a new age of American industrialism.” In between extolling his proposed tariffs as a brilliant scheme to “take other countries’ jobs,” Trump, the policy maven, questioned Harris’s intelligence and patriotism, attacked electric cars (except those manufactured by his supporter Elon Musk), and said immigrants were “coming from all over the world” to ruin the country. Trump’s signature moment in this rally, as in other recent speeches, was when he recounted his takeaway from the two assassination attempts against him: “People say: It was God, and God came down and He saved you because He wants you to bring America back.” Still think this is about policy? Kamala Harris might need an eighty-two-page economic plan printed out on glossy paper, but not Trump. His was sent from Heaven above to rescue us.

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lemoncrushh · 7 months ago

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Connect

Summary: Not wanting to lose their connection, Lily takes a surprise trip to see Harry.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: Real Harry x OC, written in first person. This is the last of my writings from 2019 (technically the first one since I'm reposting backwards). Obviously, this was heavily based on Live on Tour. I think I was just testing the waters then after having taken a break from fics. The only thing I focused on in 2018 was a longer fic which will come later. So next, I'll be reposting the one shots from 2017.

“I miss you,” he said, his voice raspy and weary.

“I miss you, too.”

“I wish you were here with me,” said Harry. “I know you didn’t wanna be, cause it’s crazy, but-”

“I never said I didn’t wanna be,” I interrupted.

“Well, you can’t. And I get it.”

With a sigh, I rolled over onto my stomach as I gnawed on the inside of my cheek. The truth was, I wanted to be with him more than anything. I just felt like it was too soon. We’d only started dating a few months before he left for the tour. Things had been such a whirlwind then, that it was a wonder we’d managed to actually become a thing. I’d worried that we’d moved too fast, and when Harry had asked me to consider flying out for some of the shows, I’d hesitated. In the end, I’d told him I couldn’t do anything on short notice since I didn’t have vacation time yet and my job was still relatively new. But I promised I would make plans to be with him for his final show in Los Angeles. He’d said he understood, but each time we talked on the phone, he seemed to miss me more and more. It broke my heart to say the least.

“I just don’t think I can-“

“Lily,” he interrupted this time. “It’s okay. Let’s change the subject.”

That night when I went to bed, I thought about our conversation. Though the rest of it had been sweet and light-hearted, I had felt the weight of Harry’s tone. He wasn’t mad, or even upset, but I could tell he was having a hard time concealing his emotions.

Throwing the covers off of me, I hopped out of bed and grabbed my laptop. Like the word nerd I was, I googled.

Emotion. Noun. A natural instinctive state of mind deriving from one's circumstances, mood, or relationships with others.

Relationship. Noun. The way in which two or more concepts, objects, or people are connected, or the state of being connected.

Harry and I were connected. I knew it from the moment we met. Not to sound cheesy, like it was some grand scene of kismet in a rom com, but I’d felt something that first day.

Literally, it had been my first day at my new job. After years of trying to be a writer and applying for any kind of position that was remotely associated with writing, taking jobs as a receptionist at a local fluff newspaper and a data entry operator in the accounting department of a publishing company, and even working behind the counter at a bookstore, I’d finally landed my dream job. Well, not so much dream as it was...how shall I put this...the bottom of the totem pole at a company I wanted to work for. Everyone’s gotta start somewhere, right? So what if I was pouring coffee and scheduling meetings and *cough* picking up dry cleaning? I was working for an amazing magazine. No, I wasn’t writing anything yet, but I was finally getting somewhere!

The stars must have been aligned that day. Being the “new girl”, I was led around the office by my boss as she introduced me to everyone. We’d just made it past the editing department when Candace, my boss, lifted her cell to her ear with a frown.

I didn’t understand the conversation, especially with only hearing one side of it, but I certainly caught the words “Harry Styles” and “lunch interview” followed by a few expletives. My breath stilled, and I’m pretty sure my heart did too. Trying to act casual as Candace returned her phone to her pocket, I blinked several times and shifted the weight between my feet.

“Lily,” she turned to me. “I know it’s your first day and you barely know your way around here, but I need a favor.”

I nodded. “Of course.”

Her expression relaxed as she gave a gentle smile. “Congratulations. You get the opportunity no one else has ever gotten on their first day.”

I wasn’t sure why I’d agreed to it, other than the fact that I’d wanted this job more than anything, and impressing Candace was my top priority. But to say I was a nervous wreck as I rode next to her in her BMW to a restaurant so luxurious I’d only ever dreamed of dining there, was an understatement. Apparently Candace’s head writer had gotten into an accident on the freeway that morning and was unable to get to the interview on time. That meant either sending someone else to have lunch with Harry Styles or going herself. Deciding quickly on the latter, and because it was my first day as her personal assistant, I got to tag along, notebook in hand. Well, not exactly in hand. It was in my bag. But you get the idea.

I hadn’t really known what to expect, both in meeting Harry and in getting to eat lunch at this particular restaurant, but within ten minutes I got the answers. The restaurant, while swanky with a limited menu, still felt like any other restaurant I’d been to, albeit upscale. Cloth napkins, iced water in big glasses that looked like they were more for wine or brandy, and tinkly piano music to complete the ambience. And as for Harry Styles...well let’s just say, he was the coolest person I’d ever met. And I don’t mean cool as in too cool for me, or too cool for school. I mean he was so completely down-to-earth that I immediately felt at ease. Sure, my insides were a mess, my heart beating out of my chest and my stomach doing somersaults, but despite that, he didn’t come off as a “celebrity”. He was charming and funny and easy to talk to. And because I was Candace’s assistant, you would think he’d only direct his answers to her. But he looked over at me several times with a sexy, easy grin and made sure he included me in the conversation.

Once Candace got up to take another phone call, and I was left alone with Harry. Afraid I might say or do something stupid, I looked at the notes I had written down. Candace of course had recorded the conversation on her phone with Harry’s permission, so I wasn’t quite sure why she’d had me take notes too. But such is the job of an assistant, I presumed.

After a moment or two of silence, Harry said something, though it took me a second to realize he was addressing me.

“Sorry?” I looked up from my scribbles.

“Is the interview done?” he asked, his eyebrows raised.

“Um...I don’t think so,” I stumbled.

“Then why are you looking at that? I’m right here.”

My heart plummeted to my stomach, and I thought I might vomit the salad I’d just eaten.

“Sorry,” I mumbled as I shoved my notebook into my bag, my face no doubt red from embarrassment. I wanted to crawl under the table...on the other side of the restaurant.

Suddenly Harry laughed. A good, hearty laugh. I looked up at him to see the little crinkles next to his eyes as he chuckled, dimples dipping in his cheeks.

“Loosen up, Lily,” he said.

It took me a second, and a shake of my head, to remember that he knew my name. But the fact that he’d remembered it after only learning it once briefly when Candace had introduced me was another thing entirely. And...was he teasing me?

“Excuse me?” I asked.

“I’m just giving you a hard time. You seem very nervous.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he smiled. Then he gestured toward where Candace had walked off. “Is she hard to work for?”

I relaxed, exhaling and placing my hands in front of me. “Truth?”

“Of course.”

“It’s my first day.”

A grin spread across Harry’s handsome face. Just then Candace emerged from the hallway headed back to our table. Harry quickly and simply leaned over towards me, covering my hand with his.

“You’re doing great,” he whispered.

And that’s when I knew.

Okay, it’s not when I knew we were meant to be together or would fall in love or any of that. But I felt connected. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but it was something.

I hadn’t gotten another assignment quite like that one again. At least not yet. Most of my job consisted of running errands and getting coffee, although I did get to see and greet a few celebrities here and there. But when Harry’s interview was printed, I received a bouquet of flowers. Lilies.

Harry and I laughed about it for days after he called to ask me out. We both agreed it was cheesy, but he admitted he liked the cheese. I’d fallen for it, after all. Sucker.

Emotion. Noun. A natural instinctive state of mind deriving from one's circumstances, mood, or relationships with others.

I stared at the screen, reciting the definition over and over. Harry and I were in a relationship. He was far away and it would be a long time before he returned. How could I not feel any emotion about it? How could I not consider his feelings as well? How could I keep pretending I didn’t miss him more than anything? How could I possibly keep this amazing relationship alive if I wasn’t willing to try to put more effort in re-establishing our connection?

Connect. Verb. Bring together or into contact so that a real or notional link is established.

Indeed.

With one or two more clicks of the mouse, I found myself on an airline website. Then opening a second tab, I brought up another website and searched for Harry Styles tickets. Flipping between the two sites, I chose a concert on a Saturday and managed to find a decent price for a flight. I figured I could fly out on Friday and be back by Sunday. I wouldn’t even have to miss work. A few clicks later, and I’d made my purchases. I was going to see Harry.

It had been a while since I’d been to a concert. Despite being a huge fan of music and having my own list of favorites, I hadn’t been inside an arena in at least a few years. My ears were already ringing from the noises around me, fans eager for Harry to take the stage.

I had a seat near the B stage. I hadn’t known what that meant until I’d bought my ticket and began to watch fan videos on YouTube. During the middle of the show, Harry stepped off the main stage and walked the gauntlet so to speak, screaming fans on either side, and made his way to a second smaller stage near the back of the arena where he performed a few songs acoustically. I’d watched several videos so far, and this was probably my favorite part of the show. It seemed so intimate, like Harry was giving his audience a special little piece of himself. Sometimes he’d throw in a little banter which made me giggle and remind me why I liked him so much.

I’d also seen fans giving him flowers. I thought that might be a little presumptuous and perhaps even ridiculous, not because he didn’t deserve them, but because...what if he didn’t take them? Or what if they got crushed in all the excitement? The poor girl spent her money on a bouquet for nothing. But I reckoned I’d take my chance. And if nothing else, we’d have a laugh over it later.

No, Harry didn’t know I was coming. It was a surprise. We’d even talked on the phone the night before after I’d landed and was snug as a bug in my hotel bed. He hadn’t a clue.

When the lights went out, I immediately felt the excitement the rest of the arena did. I even laughed and hugged the girl next to me when she grabbed my arm and screamed in my ear.

Before the first song was over, one thing was certain. Watching Harry Styles on YouTube was not the same as watching him in person. You would think I wouldn’t be screaming and dancing with the rest of the crowd since I actually knew the guy personally, let alone had the privilege of dating him. But holy cow, was I a fangirl! It was like watching Mick Jagger, Freddie Mercury and some cool indie rocker all rolled into one. I was so mesmerized and lost in every single song that I almost forgot about him coming to the B stage. Until it happened.

I’d laid my bouquet of lilies as gently as I could underneath my seat, hoping they didn’t get stomped on. I quickly retrieved them as soon as he took the steps down the main stage and waited for him to come closer. To be honest, up till this point, I suppose I had just assumed he would catch a glimpse of me, but I hadn’t considered anything further than that. My stomach started doing the flips as he climbed onto the small stage, and I saw him wave to the crowd. I didn’t want to make my presence obvious, but I did want him to know I was there. But his eyes grazed right over me and then he pulled his guitar strap over his head.

Disappointment ate at me as I felt my chest deflate. Nevertheless, Harry sang the first song beautifully, and it brought tears to my eyes. As he introduced the chords to the next song, teasing the audience a bit, I almost thought he saw me. But instead he tucked his guitar pick between his teeth and spread out his arms, making the crowd cheer loudly. The girl next to me began to jump up and down, making the ground tremble beneath my feet. I sort of wished she’d make enough noise for Harry to look our way, but he seemed to be taking it all in, letting the fans simmer in their excitement.

Finally, he began to sing. It was one of my favorite ballads where everyone with a cell phone brought it up to display their flashlights or bright screens. I sang along with him, wishing I could somehow channel my thoughts to him, make him look my way telepathically. Suddenly, during the breakdown after the bridge, his gaze met mine. It was kind of comical how his eyes widened as though he wasn’t sure he’d really seen me. I smiled, holding my lilies underneath my chin. Then he smiled too, one corner of his mouth sliding up further than the other. The crowd seemed to scream even louder, thinking his pause and smirk was somehow a reaction to them. I was perfectly fine with letting them think that. But I knew it was for me.

Harry finished the song, his audience singing in unison. Then he took me by surprise by setting down his guitar, walking to the edge of the stage, and reaching out. At first I wasn’t sure what was going on, but then someone nearby, a stagehand or someone from the soundboard, or maybe even Jeffrey Azoff, heck if I knew then, took the flowers from my hands and handed them to Harry. He smiled, inhaled deeply, smiled even wider, then blew me a kiss.

Everything after that happened so fast, it was a whirlwind. I think someone took the flowers back from Harry and put them somewhere. Then Harry sang one more song before heading back to the main stage. The cute girl next to me grabbed my arm again and squealed that he’d taken my flowers, and I was so freaking lucky, and that she was gonna do that next time, if she got to see him again. I giggled with her and squeezed her hand, then we watched the rest of the show in glee.

I hugged my new friend goodbye after the lights came back on, not really sure what to do next. Obviously I’d come to see Harry, not just his concert. But I didn’t know if I should stick around and wait for him, or go back to my hotel.

I opted for watching the crowd fizzle out as they sang and danced down the aisles towards the exits. I was just about to climb the steps myself and make my way to the restroom when my phone buzzed in my pocket.

Where are you?

I grinned, quickly texting him back.

Still in my seat.

I’ll send someone for you.

I wouldn’t have been surprised if I’d had to wait another half hour or so before someone came to retrieve me. Working somewhat in the entertainment industry - even for a few months - I was used to a lot of waiting. But it wasn’t barely five minutes before a man with a tight smile on his face came to greet me.

“Follow me,” he said simply.

The hallway backstage was brightly lit and smelled of sweat and cologne. It reminded me of a high school gym. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting as I’d seen many movies and documentaries about bands, but for some reason it wasn’t that. Still, I followed the man down the corridor to a closed door onto which he knocked. Someone must have given him the all clear and he pushed open the door and gestured for me to enter.

Now, the fangirl in me would have kicked myself for not first noticing the shirtless Harry Styles sitting in a chair by the mirror, but instead the bouquet of lilies displayed in a vase next to him. However, the girlfriend in me was all heart-eyed and flustered.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I heard him ask.

Blinking my eyes, I smiled at him, finally getting a good look at him. Weak knees. Heart palpitations. 9-1-1, people. How did I get so freaking lucky, as my new stranger friend would have said.

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” I beamed.

“Well, mission accomplished,” he chuckled.

With the grace of a gazelle, Harry rose from his chair to stand in front of me. I’d almost forgotten how tall he was. Man, it had been too long.

“Truth is…” I cleared my throat. “I missed you.”

Harry said nothing, merely nodded, his eyes glowing as they seemed to memorize every curve of my face.

“And um…” I continued as he suddenly touched my arms, his hands cupping my elbows.

I momentarily lost my train of thought as Harry lowered his head and began to breathe on my neck. I felt goosebumps all over my flesh in an instant, and I instinctively lifted my hands to touch his chest.

“There’s an and?” he said low into my ear.

“Yeah,” I sighed. “But it’s not important.”

“Of course it is. Or you wouldn’t be here.”

He lifted his head again to look straight into my eyes.

“Tell me,” he said.

“I just...didn’t want to lose our connection,” I confessed. “I think we have something great. And I hope you do, too.”

Harry nodded, a soft smile on his lips. “I do.”

“I admit, it’s hard being apart from you,” I added, looking down at my hands that had somehow landed on either side of his butterfly tattoo. “But I’d be an idiot if I didn’t let you know how I feel.”

Harry pulled me to him then, and I felt him sigh.

“And how do you feel?” he asked.

“I just said.”

Harry laughed. “No, you didn’t.”

“I feel...emotional,” I side-stepped.

“That’s a bit redundant, darling.”

I bit my lip. He was gonna make me say it, wasn’t he? As much as I was a word nerd, that was one word I couldn’t just blurt out. Even though I definitely felt it. It just wasn’t easy for me.

“Well, how do you think I feel, Harry? I mean, I just flew out here from L.A. to surprise you.”

“Oh, I dunno,” he teased. “Could’ve been for another reason, and I just happened to be here…”

“Harry!”

He threw his head back laughing before kissing me on the forehead. Then the nose. Then the mouth. The kiss deepened, and for a minute I thought perhaps his inquiring was over and we were just lost in each other. Then he stopped suddenly and whispered against my lips.

“I love you, too, Lily.”

If you enjoyed, please like, comment, reblog or send me a msg!

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

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midnightechoes · 2 years ago

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So this week is going to go down as maybe the most sapphic week in animation history. It’s going to have a great case, there are so many sapphic shows or shows with prominent sapphic couples airing this week.

Don’t know what I’m talking about? Here’s a quick rundown:

Yuri Is My Job!

Premiering on Crunchyroll on April 6th.

Yuri is My Job! is based on a yuri manga of the same name. It follows high schooler Hime, who cares deeply about her image as sweet and helpful, even though she’s actually selfish. She accidentally injures the manager of a cafe, and agrees to work there to make up for it. But this is no ordinary cafe, it’s like a cafe dinner theater where all the waitresses play characters from a fictional high school and act out skits for the patrons. Hime’s character is supposed to be in love with one of the other waitresses’ character, but she starts actually falling for the girl. Only problem is, behind the scenes the other waitress seems to hate her.

Yeah, that sounds kind of bonkers! I can already see the story now, Hime starting out playing a role, and eventually having to legitimately earn the love of Mitsuki.

Birdie Wing: Golf Girls’ Story

Season 2 premiering on Crunchyroll on Friday, April 7th

Ah Birdie Wing. If you saw season one, you know just how delightful wacky this show is. It follows the stories of Eve, a golfer that plays in illegal underground golf matches for the mob, and Aoi, a golf prodigy and the new sensation of the golf world. Their lives crash into each other and the chemistry is overwhelming and immediate.

Technically Eve and Aoi aren’t canon as of the end of s1, but it’s hard to imagine that the show isn’t heading in that direction. It makes no effort to hide the fact that these two are into each other.

I’m so excited to see what season 2 has in store for these two. Birdie Wing is just a delightfully weird little show.

Princess Principal: Crown Handler Chapter 3

Premieres in theaters in Japan on Friday, April 7th

Alright, so this won’t be useful to a lot of people reading this, as this is only premiering in Japan this weekend. But I wanted to mention it because (a) it’ll come over to the US sometime this year, and (b) Princess Principal is awesome and I want to promote it when I can.

Princess Principal was a 12 episode series that aired in 2017, and Crown Handler is a six-part sequel OVA series.

In a nutshell, Princess Principal is a steampunk spy thriller set in an alternate universe European kingdom that has been divided by a wall, Berlin-style. It follows a team of spies, masquerading as high school girls, as they try to prevent the two sides from going to war.

I know, “why is this on a list of gay shit?” Well, because it is. Two of the main characters, Ange and Princess Charlotte, are big-time into each other and while the original series does the anime thing of “we’re only allowed to go so far with this”, the OG series has a lot of intimate scenes between the two and does end *SPOILERS* with the two of them sitting on the beach together while holding hands.

And perhaps Crown Handler, being made years later, can finally take their relationship farther.

RWBY Volume 9

Volume 9 episode 8 airing on Crunchyroll on Saturday, April 8th

RWBY has been ongoing, and the current volume has been airing since February, but there’ll be another episode this Saturday. Right now RWBY is in the middle of dealing with a lot of trauma, BUT, the bees are canon and dating so every episode of RWBY is now officially gay. So says me.

The Owl House: Watching and Dreaming

Series finale airing on the Disney Channel on Saturday, April 8th

I’M NOT READY TO LOSE THIS SHOW! 😭

*ahem* The third and final season 3 special airs on Saturday, and promises to be mega emotional and super gay.

I’m grateful that this show had a chance to finish its story, something a lot of sapphic media doesn’t get to do. But I am still pissed about it getting cancelled in the first place simply because it didn’t fit their “brand” (read: this show is too gay for Disney).

But I just know that Dana and her team put together a sensational finale.

Mobile Suit Gundam: the Witch From Mercury

Season 2 premiering on Crunchyroll on Sunday, April 9th.

Affectionately called G-Witch, season 1 of this show was a revelation in the fall. It follows the story of Suletta Mercury, precious cinnamon roll and the most talented mobile suit pilot around, and Miorine Rembran, daughter of the president of the Benerit Group, a mega-corporation that has massive political power.

The show revolves around a school that’s mostly full of the children of powerful people. And then there’s Suletta, a nobody that just wants to be a normal girl and have a normal school life but through a series of events ends up in a mobile suit duel that she easily wins, earning her the title of Holder, which makes her Miroine’s groom.

At first, the two treat the arrangement as a business arrangement, both seeing practical value in this arranged engagement. But it’s obvious that Miorine is actually pretty into Suletta from the start, and we see Suletta slowly falling for Miorine too.

G-Witch is incredible. Part awesome mecha fights, part political intrigue, part romance between two useless girls who’d rather die that admit their actual feelings.

I am SO EXCITED for season 2!

LGBTQ media hasn’t had it great as of late, with a ton of frustrating cancellations and it almost feeling like Hollywood is going backwards in terms of its commitment to giving us space to tell our stories.

But animation, both in the US and in Japan, seems to be making great strides, being our light in the dark.

All five of these shows are airing episodes this week, and Crown Handler will be in theaters this week and on streaming/blu-ray later this year. RWBY has been airing for weeks and its been the gayest volume yet. the Magical Revolution of the Reincarnated Princess and the Genius Young Lady just finished airing and was wonderfully sapphic. I’m In Love With the Villainess is scheduled to air sometimes this year. And just maybe we might get Arcane season 2 before the end of the year.

I’m excited for how sapphic and yuri animation is progressing, I hope it keeps going forward.

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chrysalis-the-butterfly · 8 months ago

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Blaire Hopburn: My Favourite Character From My Least Favourite Piece of Media

So there's this webcomic called Lease Bound. It's set in Australia in 2017, and it follows Jaden and Riley, two lesbians forced to share an apartment after a mix-up with their leases (hence the title).

It was promoted as a lesbian love story, but it soon became pretty notorious for transphobia.

Jaden works as a bouncer for a female-only lesbian bar, and in Chapter 3, she refuses to let in three trans women, who don't take it well. The webcomic was heavily criticised for the way the trans women were drawn and how they behaved.

Years later, Lease Bound is still being updated regularly - in fact, Chapter 11 introduced a load of trans men and enby characters.

I've been following the updates for a while. The webcomic expresses a lot of views that I do not agree with - namely, that trans women are dangerous perverted men, and that trans men and enbies are either attention-seeking straight women or queer women too scared to question the "trans ideology cult".

And yet I keep coming back. It's partly out of morbid curiosity, to see what on Earth is going to happen next. But I think it's also because of one character I actually quite like.

Blaire Hopburn.

Blaire is Riley's bisexual girlfriend. She works at the same shop as Riley, in a slightly more senior position. She's also studying cosmetology at university and is part of its LGBTQIA+ club.

In a comic that's been so heavily criticised (and rightly so), what makes Blaire so appealing to me?

It's partly because of her personality. The Cast Page describes her as "a passionate, bubbly woman, who always strives to do what she believes is right… Even if not everyone else agrees." I generally like characters with those traits. I enjoy watching people who try to be good and make an effort to help others, but don't always do it in the best way.

And another reason I like Blaire is because I read her as autistic.

Blaire Hopburn: Accidentally Autistic?

Quite a few of Blaire's personality traits are things that I, as an autistic person, relate to a lot.

The author has described Blaire as, "So good at picking up when someone is upset, or not looking after themselves, so bad at reading the room regarding how to act." That could resonate with any autistic people who are high on empathy but low on social skills. You feel other people's pain, you want to help them, but you're not sure how. And what you try seems to make things worse.

This aspect of Blaire is present in Chapter 8, on Pages 2 and 3, when she and Jaden make conversation while erecting a bunk bed:

Blaire: So Jaden, is this your first move out of home? Jaden: I know it's a little later than most people... Blaire: Not judging! My 'rents insisted I stay home until I finish studying. Jaden: Oh nice. What are you studying? Blaire: Cosmetology! I tried early childcare and psychology too, but I couldn't handle that sort of selfless responsibility, haha! Jaden: Oh man, I feel that. My mum's in aged care, and takes care of my Nana now. I could not do what she does for a living, haha. Blaire: Do you think you took longer to move out because you felt guilty leaving your mum with your Nana? Jaden: How many years of psychology did you do...? Blaire: Sorry, that was a total guess! I didn't even last a full year!! Jaden: Could've fooled me, haha.

Thankfully, Jaden is nice enough to let that awkward moment pass, but she could have reacted to Blaire's psychoanalysis in a much worse way.

We also see Blaire being bad at socialising on Chapter 9 Page 17. Riley and Blaire have witnessed Jaden having an argument with her mum, and after her mum leaves, Blaire asks Jaden about it:

Blaire: Did you want to talk about what happened with your mum, Jaden? Riley: BLAIRE...! Jaden: Hey, it's okay. I have been a bit of a downer... Sorry. Riley: No, you don't have to apologise! Blaire: Yeah, it just sounded pretty upsetting. Jaden: You could say that, haha...

That feels very much like something a person would do when they sense something is wrong and zero in on one way of dealing with it. "Come on, let's talk about our feelings! A problem shared is a problem halved, right? Right?"

There's even a point in Chapter 8 where Blaire muses, "Sometimes it feels like Muddles [Riley's pet cat] is able to comfort Riley in ways that I just can't..." Can you imagine how galling it must feel, knowing that a pet, a creature that can't even speak English, is better at helping your girlfriend than you are?

Ouch.

In addition, Blaire's desire to learn about trans topics and be a good trans ally reads a lot like a special interest to me.

Especially the fact that she randomly brings up trans people in conversation, seemingly apropos nothing at all:

Blaire: Sorry I ditched you, babe. Auntie's keen for me to learn stock ordering. Riley: As long as you don't forget about me when you're a fully fledged store manager. Blaire: Never! So how'd the bunk end up treating you? Riley: Big upgrade from being on the floor. Blaire: And did Mudz approve? Riley: She was up there with me by morning. Blaire: Damn, that is good! Do you think Jaden could be trans?

That conversation with Riley had nothing to do with trans stuff, so Blaire's question is a bolt from the blue. I suspect the thought of Jaden being trans had been playing on Blaire's mind all day, and she was eager to grab the first chance to discuss it with someone.

She does something similar in a reply to an Anon question from when the author still had Tumblr:

Anon: Compared to others of her demographic, I gotta give Blaire props for dating a butch gal and treating her well. Blaire: Of course! Butches deserve nothing but love! And that goes DOUBLE for trans women!

Again, that Anon didn't mention trans people at all, but Blaire still brought them up. She was just itching to infodump about trans rights, I just know it.

But Blaire's connection to trans stuff leads to the issues I have with the way she's being written.

Blaire Hopburn: Pretty Problematic?

I really don't like how Blaire is currently being utilised in the story. Mainly because she's made out to be kind-of an idiot. She doesn't notice when she's making her girlfriend feel uncomfortable. And she's quite bad at picking up on social cues more generally.

This is demonstrated in Chapter 11 on Pages 31 and 32. Blaire is conversing with Violet, Jaden's coworker, about Violet's daughter Faith. The view Blaire expresses is the strawman argument often used against trans people and their allies - the supposition that we believe that not conforming to your expected gender norms means you must be trans.

Violet: Oh, and thanks for being patient with Faith. I know she's a bit of a handful! Blaire: It's like you said: they're just very passionate. Just not about dresses and skirts, huh?

Violet's response is interesting, as is Blaire's train of thought after the exchange:

Violet: NOPE! And I couldn't be happier! It makes buying HER clothes so much simpler! I hope SHE will steer clear of razors and makeup in HER teen years too, haha! Anyway, I best be getting my DAUGHTER to bed. See you at Ballroom Night! VROOM! Blaire: ... Blaire: (thinking) Dang it... It looks like Violet needs more help than I first thought... The sooner I get these [leaflets] to her the more time little Faith will have to choose what kind of body they want as an adult...!

Blaire didn't realise that Violet was emphasising the gendered ways to describe Faith because Violet already knows about trans stuff and rejects it. Instead, she just assumed Violet was ignorant and needed some educational leaflets.

(And Blaire also didn't notice the insult hidden in Violet's words. Blaire clearly shaves and wears makeup, so Violet was basically saying she hopes Faith doesn't turn out like Blaire. But Blaire has no reaction to that.)

Blaire is clearly not the best at detecting what people are implying. But that's being written in an exaggerated way, to satirise belief in "trans ideology" as stupid and in denial of reality.

It can almost feel as if Blaire is being portrayed as bad because of her autistic traits.

The author has addressed this in a comment on one of the bonus comic pages that came out after Chapter 11:

Important to keep in mind that none of the characters are written to be autistic. So Blaire isn’t being made into a villain or singled out for being autistic. In fact, a lot of her "social missteps" are a positive side to her character. Like she's pushy about gender nonsense, but she's also pushy when it comes to making sure her friends take care of themselves (making sure Jaden was getting her share of pancakes, pointing it out fully). She pushes because she cares. It has both positive and negative outcomes.

The trouble is, just because it wasn't the author's intention doesn't mean that's not how it looks. I know I'm not the only one who sees Blaire as autistic-coded.

And when Blaire's difficulties with social interaction are being played up in conversations about trans people, she isn't being written as a character. She's being used as a tool to poke fun at "the trans cult".

That's what annoys me about her portrayal. She isn't allowed to just be a character in a story - a nice, well-meaning but inexperienced girlfriend who happens to take an interest in trans rights. She has to be an extreme strawman of a trans ally, to push the author's anti-trans agenda.

Blaire Hopburn: Vicious Villain?

One of the webcomic's extra features is an "Actor AU", which includes this interview with Blaire's "actress":

Interviewer: Your character is quite controversial isn't she? Lots of people want her killed off and others are holding out hope for some sort of redemption. Which camp are you in, haha? Blaire's Actress: Neither. Interviewer: Oh...? Blaire's Actress: I actually like evil female characters. There's all these memes about deranged women, malicious women, heartless women... But when one does come along they want her removed or fundamentally changed before she's even spread her wings. Interviewer: Do you think fan opinion might change once Blaire ... takes flight? Blaire's Actress: I hope so. Realistically, both extreme camps will probably end up disappointed. But there's plenty of other great stuff to watch for. Will just have to burn the "Blaire bridge" when we come to it.

The funny thing is that the fans who comment on Lease Bound act as though Blaire is already a horrible person, but ... she really isn't?

At her worst, she's so focused on being a good trans ally that she neglects to check in with how others feel. But that's hardly "deranged" or "malicious" or "heartless", is it? Unless you already believe that supporting "trans ideology" makes you at least one of those things.

The closest thing I see to Blaire being villainous is in the first of the "When Riley Met Brick" bonus pages.

Blaire: Exploring your femininity in a non-traumatic way might help make things clearer too. Riley: O-okay. Blaire: Why don't we go dress shopping later this week, then? Riley: U-uh... I'm not really... They never feel good. Blaire: Cute plus-size options have come a long way in the last few years. It won't be frumpy like the stuff from your old congregation, I promise! Riley: O-okay... *** Blaire: Well, what do you think? Riley: It's... I feel like I can't breathe... Blaire: Huh? But it's so loose and flow-y... Do you need a bigger size? Riley: N-no, please, get it off. OFF! OFF!! Blaire: Riles! Hey, hey! Don't thrash like that, you'll rip it! Here' I'm untying it, see? Riley: ... Blaire: So, no tie-arounds, zippers or buttons... How about this one? You just pull it straight over your head! Riley: I can't... Please, no more... Blaire: Hmm... I think we need to talk to someone who has a bit more expertise than me, baby...

Blaire is forcing Riley to try on dresses and do something she's really uncomfortable with, until Riley is screaming and thrashing about. That does seem very, very bad. But I wonder if there's more to this than meets the eye.

Riley's backstory hasn't been shown in the webcomic yet, but the author has said that she grew up in a religious cult where she was only allowed to wear dresses, never trousers. Blaire presumably doesn't fully understand how bad Riley's past was, as she assumes the issue is with the style of the dresses Riley has tried so far.

In an extra cast reply (and it's debatable how canon it is), Blaire does seem to grasp that what Riley has gone through was traumatising:

Blaire: Riley's discomfort with femininity is from being forced into it as a kid. That doesn't mean she HATES girly stuff, she just has internalised misogyny to work through at her own pace!

Yes, Blaire is going about things in the wrong way. But ... she kind-of has a point? I certainly wouldn't call it "internalised misogyny", but it is trauma, and that needs addressing.

Not wanting to wear dresses isn't a problem, but the reason for it can be. Riley's discomfort is clearly rooted in pretty serious trauma, and she needs to be able to sit down with someone and work through that. Sadly, she's not yet confident enough to open up fully about it.

And even if she could, Blaire isn't the right person to do this with. Blaire did study psychology briefly at university, but she didn't last a full year. Her idea of helping Riley is taking her to see Brick, a non-binary person ... who's training to be a veterinary nurse, not a human therapist. Blaire is nowhere near qualified to give Riley the help she needs.

I don't see this as an evil trans ally preying on a poor little lesbian. I see this as two flawed women talking past each other, trying and failing to understand each other, ill-equipped to cope with each other's issues.

And then the other "villainous Blaire" moment is at the end of "When Riley Met Brick", as Blaire criticises Riley for the way she talks to Brick:

Riley: Maybe I'm just feeling a bit confused because I've never met a trans person befor- Brick: THAT is an assumption rooted in transphobic bias! Trans people aren't a monolith! You can't tell who's trans just by looking at them! Riley: Sorry, I didn't know...! Blaire: You know what they say about assuming babe... Riley: I swear I didn't mean to... Blaire: You need to choose your words with more care. Riley: Right... I'm really sorry...

The dark colours, Blaire's body language and ominous words, the top-down perspective on the scared-looking Riley ... this page is trying to make us see Blaire as in the wrong and Riley as her victim. We're meant to judge her for putting her zealousness for trans acceptance before her concern for her girlfriend's feelings.

That's the last time we've seen Blaire in the webcomic so far, but she's due to reappear in Chapter 13. It seems as though the author is planning to do something big with Blaire - something that will cement her as the villain of Lease Bound. But it hasn't happened yet. And I'm curious to see what it is.

I suspect it's something to do with Blaire being in a more senior position at Riley's workplace, as well as the fact that her aunt works there. There's a risk that Blaire could use her influence with her aunt to force Riley out of a job, after a major disagreement over trans rights or something.

But based on what we've seen so far in the webcomic, I can't picture Blaire doing something like that. She just doesn't seem like the kind of person to do something so extreme.

Basically, it's going to take a lot to convince me that Blaire Hopburn is an irredeemable monster.

TL;DR Lease Bound is massively problematic. The one bright spot for me is Blaire, the nice, eager-to-help, slightly autistic-coded bi lady. Unfortunately, she keeps being turned into a caricature to mock those who support trans rights, and that bothers me.

#lease bound #leasebound #blaire hopburn #jaden anderson #riley zhou #violet bridge #faith bridge #brick abbott #tw transphobia

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starryalpacasstuff · 11 months ago

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Indian BL? FROM 2017????

There's an Indian BL from 2017 that I just watched. And I have incoherent thoughts

Before I continue, massive thanks to my bestie @anixknowsnothin for telling me about this show and proofreading the post for me. You don't even watch bl so I have no idea how you found this, but I'm incredibly grateful nonetheless

Here's the link to where I watched the show from, there's a glitch in the first episode subs where the subs seem to be from another show entirely, but it's only for the first ep and about 50% of the dialogue is in English anyways, so it shouldn't be hard to follow.(My ask box is also always open if there's a specific dialogue/scene in Hindi that you want the translation of)

Edit: The link seems to be region locked, so to watch it you can use a vpn and set your region to India, otherwise the episodes are available on youtube, albeit without subs

Note:- this post is going to have a few mild spoilers throughout, but I'll flag major spoilers in red

It's no secret that India is fairly behind when it comes to queer love shows if we compare it to other Asian countries. While it has a handful of great queer shows and movies, it's still quite a small quantity. Additionally, before this, I'd never watched an Indian show that felt like I was watching a bl (if you have recs, please send them my way!!). I'm not going to get into the technicalities of what feels like a bl and doesn't, because honestly, I'm not completely sure myself. For now, I'm just going based off of vibes and feelings, and this show felt like a bl through and through.

Titled 'Romil and Jugal' after its main characters, the story is a modern, desi, bl remake of the classic story...

Romeo and Juliet

Well, Bad Buddy was the first Thai bl I ever watched, so Romil and Jugal being the first Indian BL I watched just feels right, no?

I didn't actually know that the story was based off of Romeo and Juliet till the second episode, because I didn't bother looking for a synopsis, and jumped right in. However, it's links to Romeo and Juliet quickly became apparent, around the same time I started to see similarities between this show and Bad Buddy. I also did not know that this show came out in 2017 before I googled it, having already watched the entire thing, which was a pretty huge shock, because this BL is progressive by 2024 India standards.

Alright, enough of my rambling. Here's a synopsis of the show in case you haven't heard of it. (I couldn't find an official one, so I did my best to write a spoiler free synopsis)

Ramya happens to start talking to a slightly older woman at an airport, who believes that there is no romance in the younger generation. To prove her wrong, Ramya decides to tell the older woman her brother's love story. The story from the past is shown to us as Ramya narrates it to the woman in the present. Jugal is a closeted 19-year-old who lives with his parents. One day, a family moves into the house next door, and Jugal immediately falls for the son, Romil. The two of them attend the same college, and eventually become friends. The two of them eventually get together, but have to face the challenges of a homophobic society and having parents that hate each other.

I was a little skeptical of the show going in, but the show surpassed all of my expectations in the best way possible. It's no masterpiece, and it has its flaws, but it was far better than what I expected. It had both comical elements and darker themes, and it did not shy away from exploring the darker themes at all. Oh, and it has a few musical numbers. What did you expect? This is India after all.

The show is 10 episodes long, with 20 minutes per episode, and so it does unfortunately fall into some of the pitfalls that shorter shows tend to fall into, namely underdeveloped relationships and rushed endings. I did end up feeling a little bit like it didn't make sense for the pair to sacrifice and suffer as much as they did because they hadn't known each other for very long, and I felt like they should have been given more time to fall in love with each other. But it also could be argued that the show stays true to the play, and Romil and Jugal are dumb teenagers who make mistakes and stick with each other through them. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it.

One thing that I loved the show for was that it showed us that the relationship is not all sunshine and rainbows. They argue, they break up, they get back together, and they do argue even after that. But every time, they eventually work through the issue and reconcile. The show even depicts Romil dealing with internalized homophobia and struggling to reconcile with the fact that he will never be who his family wants him to be. Although I do wish they'd have had more time to explore this, I'd say it was decently depicted and handled. The show really delves into how children are forced to uphold their family's wishes and are constantly put under pressure to make them proud. Although it clearly affects both of them, it's more obvious with Romil, who is expected by his family to date and marry the daughter of his father's boss, whom they think he is dating. There's a metaphor along this theme too, where Romil pretends to like the mango shake that his mom has been making for him since he was a kid, even though he hates it, and when he tries to tell her, he has to act like it was a joke to spare her feelings. The show also goes into the communal mindset of basing your actions off "what will people think?", and you can see how a lot of the characters' actions throughout the show are haunted by this question. Some of Romil and Jugal's earlier disagreements are due to this very mindset.

The show also very candidly depicts the extreme homophobia of society in India. Romil and Jugal had to constantly hide who they were, always having to keep up a mask and I felt that reach somewhere deep inside me. When the pair come out, the show really shows how ugly homophobia can be in India. Their parents immediately disown them. They're mocked in college and wrongfully suspended for a fight that was provoked by other students. Very, very few people stand with them, and the pair very quickly realize that now that they are out, they simply cannot live in the city anymore. So with the help of Jugal's best friend and her mother, they flee to Mumbai, where they get jobs and live as paying guests with a friend of the aforementioned mother. But, even in Mumbai, the masks stay up. They have to act like cousins, for fear of being persecuted. The series depicted the worst-case scenario that so many of us live in fear of, so watching it was something of a cathartic experience for me.

Another thing that the show did quite well is showing how different people and their mindsets can be. Jugal's best friend, Ahalya, and her mom are very supportive, and they help the pair out quite a bit. Ahalya's mother provided a safe house for the pair and helped them find a fresh start. Meanwhile, Romil and Jugal's parents are incredibly homophobic. There was a scene that really stuck with me, (mild spoiler ahead, skip to the last sentence of the paragraph) where Ahalya's mother came across Jugal's mother, who prided herself on being educated and well-read, searching up how to cure homosexuality. Ahalya's mother then tells her off for calling herself educated yet believing that homosexuality is an illness. It is so important to me that the show depicted both the violent homophobia that permeates Indian society and the surprising, warm acceptance that one can find.

One final thing that I loved about this show so, so much is just how authentically Indian it feels. Asian cultures share a lot in common, but they also have their differences, so seeing a show where I can imagine encountering the characters in real life is really amazing. Rather than something big, it was little things sprinkled throughout the story that warmed my heart. The story felt like something I could hear the local aunties gossiping about. The way it depicts queerness in India hits incredibly close to home.

One thing I've learned watching Asian bls is that the ending of a show can make it or break it, but with this one, I'm stuck. The best way I can describe the ending is absolutely insane and incredibly Bollywood.

I believe this show was supposed to get a second season because the last two minutes of the show leave us with a massive cliffhanger. Now, it's been 7 years, so a second season is unlikely, so I'm simply pretending that the last two minutes of the show never happened. But the ending has so much more to it than just this (Major spoilers for the ending up ahead. I mean it when I say major, this is like going into Bad Buddy knowing that they're going to trick their parents in the end).

About halfway through the show, I remembered what play it was based upon and realized that there was a very real possibility that Romil and Jugal would die. The first half of the last episode leads up to this, telling us that they died when reconciling after an argument in the middle of the road when they were hit by a truck. We get a super emotional scene (yes, I cried) where the two families somewhat reconcile in their grief as they go to the police station to identify the bodies. Except... they're not dead, which is revealed when Romil's father hugs Romil's (not) dead body. They reveal that they planned this to show their family that they still loved their sons. I did say it was like PatPran tricking their parents in the end, didn't I? So the families reunite, Romil and Jugal get jobs in New Zealand and get married, and return to India for a wedding celebration (yes, I cried. again). The ending does feel slightly rushed, but if I'm being honest, it wasn't as terrible as it could have been. Believing that your child is dead for a bit is a somewhat justifiable reason for a sudden change of heart. There's a part where Romil and Jugal tell their parents that if they choose acceptance, they can reconcile, but if they choose to remain prejudiced, Romil and Jugal can simply get back on the stretchers, because they'll be as good as dead to their families anyways and it is *chef's kiss*.

All in all, the show was surprisingly heartfelt and poignant. It had me laughing, kicking my feet and even crying. There's a lot more about this show that I could talk about, but I'm going to stop here for now, and I'll try to write more on it later. This show really does deserve more recognition than it has, and I'm almost mad at myself for not knowing about it before. Am I being really biased when talking about this show? Absolutely. But I do think that this show is a worthwhile watch, and I'd really like to see what other people on here think of the show, especially because I'm aware that I am biased towards this show.

I'm tagging a few people who I know might be interested/have some thoughts about the show because this is a show that I really want to hear other people's opinions on and have conversations about, so I hope you guys don't mind!

@waitmyturtles @lurkingshan @bengiyo @neuroticbookworm

#good lord this post is almost 2k words #i think this is the longest post i have ever written #and there's more thoughts rattling around in my brain about this show #did i convince you to watch the show?#please say yes #i need people to talk to about this show #bl recs #indian bl #indian bl recs #romil and jugal #romil & jugal #bad buddy #i mean it's related #how does everything i write about somehow find it's way to that goddam show #but seriously romil and jugal was surprisingly very good #i did not expect it at all #but i have never been so glad to be proven wrong #queer indian media

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