#of course his little mind is silly and its probably because of a certain plot point in the story that. is yet to be revealed HAHAHJA

[starryybrained]

OKAY… let’s say I asked if Oath’s fear was making mistakes and Flint’s fear was being alone 👀👀👀

MWEHWHAHAHHWHAHA

(Oath) 7/10

“Of course I’m afraid of making mistakes. My line of work is dangerous and I need to be prepared for anything — which is why it’s so fucking humiliating to fail in such a catastrophic way with Starling.

“You don’t understand how awful it is to then fail and deteriorate.”

(Flint) 9/10

“I’ve been alone a while. So sure, I guess I’m used to it. I don’t have anyone to come to for help, so I have to depend on myself, but it does hurt — I’ve had people leave me and I’ve been pushed away but it’s just an ache now.

“There is some part of me that wonders if I’ll ever have meaningful connection with anyone again. I’ve had it before of course, but it’s been gone for a while.

“At this point, those feelings are just festering.”

Guess my OC’s fears

[anime-grimmy-art]

Told you guys I’d ramble in due time.

I absolutely adore Bravely Default 2. It came at a really bad time cos I can’t waste 70 hours on a jrpg, but well, it’s too late to be concerned about that now. And as is tradition with me obsessing over a new game / show / whatever, you’ll basically find a fullblown review disguised as ramblings right under the cut. Be aware that I’m gonna talk about EVERYTHING, so spoilers are a given. Some maybe even for the previous Bravely Default games.

Also, if you wanna talk about this game in any capacity, hit me up, I’m DESPERATE to talk more about it.

Just for reference on how long this is gonna be, I made a voice recording while driving to remember all the points I wanna make, and that recording is almost 2 hours long. I did cut it down but still, this is gonna be a lot.

I’ll start off with the things that actually bugged me about the game, since there are only 3 things that really bothered me. First of, I really don’t like that you can name Seth. He has too much personality to be a self insert and player integration is not that big of a part in the game that this decision can be justified. It wouldn’t bother me that much if it didn’t leave a bad mark on the ending. First of all, we were robbed of Gloria desperately shouting for Seth, which makes the impact work less, and it’s just so prevalent that the name can’t be said because you have all the normal sound design going. If they’d just let the credits still play I wouldn’t have batted an eye, but because every other sound comes in it’s so obvious they’re just silently shouting in this scene, which makes it look silly. Like I said, this decision is more a detriment than an addition, and it’s a shame it casts a shadow on an otherwise heartfelt ending.

Speaking about lost potential, the other thing that really bothers me is the lost potential in certain plot points and character conclusions. I mainly mean Adam and Edna here. Both of them have been built up to be these formidable foes but they just, die. If it was just Adam I’d be fine with it, since you expect Edna to backstab him and be the actual big bad of the story, but I cannot fathom why they dropped Edna this HARD. If not Edna herself, I don’t understand why we don’t get more of a reaction from the Fairies and especially Adelle. I mean, Edna was her sole reason she left for her journey in the first place, then Edna dies and that’s it? No part where she grieves for a second? No concern from the others about Adelle? Mind you, I haven’t finished all the Sidequests, so maybe there actually is one in which this is addressed, but I think even just a Party Chat after Bad End 1 would have been sufficient to show how Adelle suddenly feels about the loss of Edna. It would have made Bad End 2 / The Secret Ending even more impactful, because, yeah, of course, you kinda know Adelle isn’t going to turn her back on fairy kind, but one of the reasons she doesn’t leave is because if Enda didn’t get a happy ending, then she shouldn’t either. It would have been amazing foreshadowing if she showed this sentiment before this scene happened. Other than that, it’s a shame that we know so little about Edna, or rather, how she became “bad”. I get she’s supposed to be corrupted by the Night’s Nexus, but how did it even come to this? It can’t have been a gradual thing, after all, Adelle says Edna was always good natured and then just disappeared one day. Really would have loved seeing more of that plot point.

Ok, last gripe I have, some choices in the soundtrack and sound design. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love the OST, and I will get to that, but damn, whatever Revo used for the lead instrument in Wiswald hurts my ears. It’s a really good track, but I always have to turn down my volume because these high pitched sounds physically hurt. And for sound design. Dude, the Night’s Nexus is the least threatening, nightmare fueled abomination that ever existed. I get that its growl is kinda supposed to be layered with Edna’s or sth, but it, it just sounds silly. If they went the route of just swinging between different voices or began distorting it from phase to phase, it would have been fine. But the choice they made really made an otherwise creepy design just absolutely silly.

Ok, enough jammering, on to the good stuff. Like I said, there’s going to be a lot, so I’ll try to be brief in each aspect.

Gameplay

I honestly like the new battle mechanics more than the old ones. This individual, turn based system feels way more dynamic and it’s easier to strategies in battles. Because nothing made me more angry than setting up for a heal and the enemy suddenly being faster than me and killing my healer. Now it’s easier to plan ahead a bit.

I also found myself experimenting more with the jobs. Not sure what it really is, but none of the party members leaning more towards certain types of jobs and the job leveling being way faster probably helped.

And I know some people get up in arms because the boss sometimes can be a real pain in the ass (looking at you pope dude), I still found it very interesting getting around counters or even using these counters as a benefit. As an example, I made Adelle my main physical fighter and gave her lots of counter abilities to help her profit from being countered by enemies themselves. Now, she can attack enemies, get countered, automatically evade that counter and earn a BP at the same time. Made a lot of boss fights way easier and fun to exploit.

Music

Ok, I will try my best to be really, really brief, because in my recording this part takes up almost 40 minutes. Anyways, Revo might have just become one of my absolute favorite composers ever. I don’t know what kind of magic he used, but I initially wasn’t that impressed with the OST, but every time I listened to it, I just fell in love harder and harder. Before getting into specifics, I wanna highlight the two things that made me love this OST overall. First of all, this soundtrack almost seems like a refinement of BD’s. While losing some of that fairytale vibe, it sounds even more fantasy now. And in contrast to the original, this almost sounds more balanced? Like, BD’s OST felt high energy throughout, BD2’s on the other hand manages to find a good balance between high and low energy pieces. Like, the character themes or battle themes are absolute hype, but the overworld themes are a lot calmer and easier to listen to while exploring. Second big point that makes this soundtrack amazing is that Revo is an absolute god at using emotional progression/storytelling and leitmotifs in his songs. And heck, do I love myself my leitmotifs. You’ve got some obvious ones, like the final battle theme in which all the character themes and other leitmotifs are integrated. Then you got some maybe more subtle once, just like how the overworld themes are just the main theme, just a lot calmer and using the lead instruments of the towns of the areas.

But my absolute favourites gotta be the character themes and the main theme. I love how fitting the themes for the characters are and in general, each of them is such a bop. At first I prefered Elvis’, because I sure am a sucker for jazzy vibes, but over time Adelle’s became my fav. It’s just something about the trumpets, and how the theme almost sounds a bit melancholic and bittersweet, that drew me in. And considering her story, mostly her bad end, that the bittersweet tone really fits.

Then there’s the main theme. Just like BD’s it shouts “triumphant anthem” and it definitely gives you a very familiar vibe, but I’d argue it has even better emotional progression. Heck, the first time I heard the music start up in the reveal trailer, I didn’t have to look at the screen to know this is gonna be a BD game. Also, the credit song version had me weeping at the true end. I’m someone who’s very easily affected by music (if me shouting about soundtracks on this blog wasn’t proof enough) and just hearing that ending song, getting the after credits scene, just for the second credits to start as a freaking duet. Dude, at that point I just started sobbing, I’m not gonna lie. Just this little part showed how much Revo knows how to put emotion in a song and also write it in such a way that he can elicit strong, emotional reactions from you too. 

Story

People have been complaining how the story is too boring and kinda disappointing in comparison to the last one, but I just think the games tried to accomplish different things here. Since the BD series is a celebration of old, classic jrpgs, “cliche” storytelling is a given. Though, BD did throw a lot of meta stuff in there too. BD2 in contrast just feels like a direct execution of that initial idea. It feels familiar, it feels comfy and it feels safe. Except for the little things with the endings and then overwriting the Nexus’ “save file”, BD2 doesn’t really get that meta, which is totally fine. It doesn’t try to reinvent or innovate anything, it just wants to be a fantasy story, that might be cliche, but still fun and enjoyable in its own right.

I’d also argue that the pacing is a lot better than the old game, because with BD I sometimes found myself skipping through scenes to get on with the story. Not that this game didn’t have me rushing through stuff as well, but I found it kept my intrigue way better than the original.

Characters

Next to the music, this is the part that I absolutely love the most. While, yes, they did lose a lot of potential with some characters, mostly with the villains, the main cast is just so much fun. I love these 4 dorks so, so much.

I honestly can’t stand how much people compare them to the original cast. Yes, ofc, I’ve been doing my fair share of comparisons too, but calling these four a more boring version of BD’s party physically hurts me. Because except for some initial impressions, the Heroes of Light are completely different from our beloved Warriors of Light.

While yes, Seth and Gloria give off strong Tiz and Agnes vibes at first, they both grow into such different characters that they’re not really comparable. I think this shows with Adelle and Elvis even more. I do understand how people could compare Adelle and Edea, since they’re both the feisty girl type, but I can’t understand how people can see Ringabel and Elvis as the same character type. While those two are the “suave” party members, they act so differently from another. And that’s honestly apparent the first time you meet them. 

Anyways, I love these 4 so much.

We technically don’t know a lot about Seth at all, but they manage to pull so much out of just the fact that he’s a sailor, that it makes him really endearing, really fast.

I was kinda disinterested with Gloria at first, because again, the initial impression was Agnés2.0, but she grew on me a lot. Gloria is way more hard headed and honestly sassy in comparison to Agnés and I absolutely adore it.

Elvis. Elvis, my man. I love this fantasy scottosh wizard so, so much. He’s such a ridiculous character but so endearing at the same time. You got all this dorkiness, with him setting himself on fire as a student, him doing god knows what for a good drink or just laughing danger and prejudice in the face. But then you got his super empathetic and caring side. Mind you, most of his wise moments come from quoting Lady Emma, but still, as much as he’s hopeless with certain social situations, he’s actually still really good at reading the room and playing things smart. He’s a smart and powerful idiot, which makes him a danger to everyone and himself, and I love him for it. (I also can’t believe they called him Lesley I MEAN COME ON)

And then there’s Adelle. I liked her from the start, but I didn’t think she would stick out to me. I think now she’s my favourite character. Not even talking about all the stuff that happens in chapter 3 and onward, because these story threads are awesome in their own right, but there’s just something about her personality that’s interesting and appealing to me. Like I said, I’m not surprised people compare her to Edea, I did too at first, but while Edea walks very close to the line of a Tsundere, I was really surprised that Adelle is, well, not a Tsundere at all. Yeah, of course she’s putting Elvis down a lot, but that stems more from her preventing his ego from going to his head than her being all embarrassed. No, Adelle is actually really well adjusted when it comes to communication. While it’s hilarious that she and Elvis met with her chucking her shoes at him, the two just got along well right from the start. Adelle in general has this really open and helpful personality, but also doesn’t shy away from putting her foot down, even if that sometimes comes out as an embarrassed sputter. She’s also the mother hen of the group. She looks out for the other three and gets concerned about them real fast. 

I dunno, Adelle just really grew on me over the course of this game, and then her kinda being paired with Elvis too, as partners and as partners, makes me like her even more. Because as much as I like their personalities individually, I like their character dynamic even more. I honestly love the relationships between all four of them a lot. You really feel them grow closer as friends and all the little character sidequests just always made me really happy.

Conclusion

You might not believe me, but I really held back there. This could probably have been 3 times its length. As much as I love this game, it’s of course not perfect. It struggles and flails in some parts a lot and it certainly has some aspects that might turn people off. But for me, it was just a very familiar and comfy game that didn’t necessarily deliver anything new, but that told its story in such a way that it still got me excited to keep going. The soundtrack is absolutely amazing and the conclusion of the story actually got me to cry. While not groundbreaking, this game is highly enjoyable and leaves you absolutely satisfied at the end.

Also, I would like to iterate that I am desperate to get more content about this game, so if you wanna chat about it, hit me up.

Anyways, anyone else felt like having a fever dream when everybody in chapter 2 started talking fantasy scottish? Cos I sure did.

[alemoncakelife]

AU: Jon Snow Meets Alayne Stone

“Remember my sweet, he cannot recognise you.”

“Of course, father, for we have never met.”

Petyr smirked at her as the pair approached the party of Northerners. Sansa gripped her reins and held her breath. She had always thought of how sweet it would be to see Jon Snow again. Yet the notion of this reunion taking place among so many people, particularly Littlefinger, simply filled her with dread. Lord Baelish had laid such a careful collection of plots. He intended to have her win the heart of Harry the Heir, along with the whole of the Eyrie and most importantly Winterfell. Home. It was a delicate and treacherous game, as it always was with him. They could not have her half brother reveal her true name before its time. Otherwise more things may be lost than a game.

But all she had to do was remind herself that Sansa was not here. It was only Alayne. And all Alayne had heard of Jon Snow was the whispers from the other lords and ladies of the Vale. And as she drew her horse to a halt, there he stood before her. The awkward boy who sparred with Robb and Theon had gone. Now in his place was a stranger. A man, with hair as black as the midnight sky and eyes that shone like dragonglass. He wore the furs of a lord that reminded her so much of her father. Her heart twinged. Winterfell was so far from here.

“Lord Snow,” Petyr Baelish declared as he dismounted, “I trust your journey was a safe one.” Lord Jon bowed his head before replying that it was, although the bitter winds indicated that winter truly was coming.

“It may be coming sooner than any man can tell.” Baelish continued. When he and Jon were face to face, he gave the lad a smile that barely spread past his cheeks. Lord Snow couldn’t seem to return the expression and his mouth twitched briefly instead.

He never was confident in courtesies, Sansa thought fondly. Then she prayed to the gods that she’d look as much a stranger to him as he did to her, before she slid from her saddle and joined her father. 

“My lord may I introduce you to my daughter. Although her name is not all that dissimilar to your own.”

In that moment she knew she had to speak. But what if Jon recognised her voice? Sansa willed herself to meet his gaze and it was then that she was almost certain he knew. His hands had dropped by his sides and his lips were softly parted. It was as if her real name danced upon those very lips and longed to slip free. But she couldn’t allow it. She wouldn’t allow it! Sansa’s Tully eyes fluttered into a stonier stare. Her mouth curled into a smirk her Lord Father would be proud of. Her false one at least...

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Snow. My name is Alayne Stone.”

She curtsied. (Not as gracefully as Sansa would have.)

“Stone?” he said, piecing it together. His voice was lower and gruffer than she remembered. The longer she lingered on his face she realised just how many scars he bore. Sansa’s scars never reached her face. Each mark sparked a new question in her mind. It had been so long since he left. There was so much she wanted to know. What had he seen? What had he survived? In a way he was the only person of her past that remained to her. A part of her was desperate to know how big Ghost had gotten, but Alayne would have to firstly learn that Jon Snow even had a direwolf before finding that out. Yet all these thoughts vanished when she realised he was smiling at her. Smiling, truly. She knew it was true because his eyes shone brighter while the skin around them creased. He used to smile that way with Arya and her brothers.

“Alayne Stone. That’s a pretty name.”

What? Did she hear him correctly? Sansa had told him to say that. In another life when she was small and full of songs. She told him to give that exact praise to the ladies he’d meet. He remembered! After all this time he remembered! Half her head told her it was a foolish coincidence, but the other half screamed that Jon Snow remembered her lesson even after all this time! It was practically nothing and yet it felt like everything.She wanted so much to throw herself into his arms and weep and laugh and never let him go. Don’t be silly. Be Alayne. Instead she clasped her gloved hands together and tilted her head cooly.

“You are too kind, my lord. Perhaps once my father has shown you and your men to your rooms, you might tell me some tales of your time in the North. I hear it can be quite beautiful”

Jon’s expression darkened a little.

“It is, my lady. But sadly it is now in great danger. We all are. That is what’s brought us to you.”

The bluntness threw her a bit, but Alayne was not so swayed. She glanced at Petyr who was looking at her with what some might see to be pride or admiration, but she knew him better than that. He loved to watch her play.

“The world is indeed a dangerous place. But there is no need for such formalities with me. You may call me Alayne. Everyone does.”

“Thank you. You can call me Jon.”

“Jon.” It felt so nice to say his name. She wanted to say it again. But she really shouldn’t have.

First he blinked. As if he had misheard her. Then he opened his mouth as if to speak but nothing came out. It was a silence that felt longer than it likely was, and suddenly Sansa was all too aware of the Northern men and knights of the Vale that had been watching the three of them this whole time. What a stupid thing to do. She had no different voice. Saying his name must have done something. A wrong move on her part. If Sansa gave him enough time she was sure he’d find her in the woman before him. He made her feel like her brunette wash was fading from her hair with every second. Her cheeks burned. The little girl in her wanted Littlefinger to say something. To intervene. Surely he could see this unravelling like she did?

I must not be a Stark. Not now. Not yet.

What would Sansa Stark not do in this moment? Because whatever that was, Alayne Stone had to do it, and quickly. Then it came to her.

“Jon...Jon, Jon.” She played with his name before licking her lips and raising an eyebrow. This was confusing him. Good. Throw him off the scent. “I think not.”

With that she sauntered back to her horse and climbed up. She prayed nobody could see how her legs were shaking. Once she was mounted Alayne smiled triumphantly. “If it please my lord, I should like to call you Snow. I know so many Jons you see, but no Snows.”

“A-aye. You can call me that.” He tried to hide his fidgeting finger beneath his cloak. That red-haired girl from his childhood was falling out of his thoughts now. Let her disappear.

“Well then, dear father. Perhaps we should all head back to the Eyrie now. As you said yourself winter is approaching and these winds grow less forgiving.”

Petyr was beaming at her. Sansa couldn’t tell if it was that or the breeze that was causing the gooseflesh around her neck. Had there not been so many spectators, Lord Baelish might have tried to steal a fatherly kiss had his bastard daughter not retreated to her steed. 

“Very wise, my sweet.” He turned to Jon. “You must forgive my girl. Her manners are not always what they ought.”

“It’s alright. We bastards are not known for our courtesies.” Littlefinger allowed himself a small chuckle. He’d never looked slimier to Sansa than now.

“Indeed. We shall show you and your men to your rooms. Then we may discuss the matters you conveyed to me in your raven. I am most keen to be of service in any way I can.”

Jon Snow thanked him with a nod and they both got onto their horses. Sansa watched him. He moved with such strength. He must be a magnificent fighter now. Petyr never told her why he invited Jon all this way or how he might fit into his plans. Perhaps he didn’t. There was danger in that. 

“You did well.” He whispered, ensuring no-one else was listening to them. “When we return I will explain why he’s here, and of what value he may be to us.”

You will not make a pawn of him. Not if I can help it.

“Do you know what Jon meant, when he talked of us being in danger?”

“Yes, but do not fret my love. You and I both thrive in perils. Others may fall but we keep on climbing.” With that, Littlefinger galloped ahead, probably expecting her to follow like a good little bird.

But what does a mockingbird know of the winter? Be it wolves or bastards, Jon and I are a pack. If winter is coming, then I will protect him.

Sansa turned to look back at Jon Snow. They were the last of the Starks. She allowed herself to give him a small smile. Alayne Stone would be his friend. She would protect him in any way she could. And when the time came, she would tell Jon Snow the truth.

[choicesficwriterscreations]

450 Followers: Meet The Writer

Hello there! We’re back with another Meet The Writer Q&A and it’s our pleasure to introduce a fellow Brazilian fanfic author for our ninth interview:

Blog: @julia-highstorms​ Name (or petname): Julia/Ju Birthday: July 9 Nationality: Brazilian 🇧🇷 Current residency: I'm one of the 12 million people living in São Paulo, Brazil Languages you speak: Brazilian Portuguese, English and a bit of Japanese Masterlist: Julia’s choices fanfiction masterlist

1. Is there a meaning behind your url name? Yes! For those who have been following me for a while, they already know that I used to change my URL according to the Choices character I was stanning at the time but it was a PAIN to fix all my fanfics links 😩 so I decided to finally create an unique URL that I wouldn't get tired of. So I mixed my two surnames together and it (basically) means Highstorms. I loved it 😌

2. When did you start playing Choices? What's the first book you played? 2017 I believe. TRR book 1 was about to debut. YEAH. It was the Freshman Book 1.

3. When did you decide to join Choices fandom? December 21 2017. ILITW was in its last chapters and I was obsessed with it. I wanted to talk about it with other people, but I didn't know anyone who also played Choices. So I found the fandom on Tumblr and decided to join. I miss all my friends I made back then and we all went nuts with ILITW finale together 😩 Good times

4. Go back to your archive and tell us what was your first post on your Choices blog was about. My first post was about how I loved ILITW and how everyone was fucked up sjddndossok also a lot of reblogs about MAKE NOAH AN LI 🗣️

5. How long have you been writing fanfiction? I started writing fanfictions in my senior year of high school, although I attempted to write my own stories when I was younger, around 12-13.

6. Share the first fanfic you wrote with us. Do you still like it or would you change anything about it? My first fanfic ever is about The Maine, it was my favorite band back then slfjdfodj but my first Choices fanfic is If Jane Was Here (ILITW told by Noah) Chapter 1. I AM SO PROUD OF IT. Of course, there are some things I would change. Like adding even more angst. Having finished writing it way sooner. But I'm super proud of it overall. My first (and so far only) Choices long series I've ever finished. Wow.

7. What are your favorite Choices books to write about? Definitely Open Heart just because of Bryce Lahela and Rei (my MC). OPH has become a mess, but I love Bryce too much. I loved the It Lives anthology too and enjoyed writing about. And I'm hyped for my upcoming Blades AU series!

8. What is your specialty as a fanfic writer? Oooh I guess it is rewriting certain scenes or events of the books or thinking about AUs. Since ILITW I have enjoyed doing this. Writing on another character's point of view of the events that have happened (the whole If Jane Was Here series, that is ILITW told by Noah's POV). Or adding some depth to a certain scene (did something like this with Julia, my ILB MC, and Tom's relationship. And with Rei and Bryce's). Or even rewriting the story to fit better with my MC's personality (Rei, OPH MC).

9. What aspect of your writing do you most enjoy to see praised? When people say they like my MC's, Rei (OPH MC) and Luxia (Blades MC). Before, whenever I played Choices, I didn't care much about the MCs because they're all generic (which makes sense because we're the ones playing it). They're always the happy go lucky friend that tries to fix everyone's problems and every LI is in love with them. Boooooring. Rei was my first MC that I created a whole non-canon personality to her, and that's why she's my baby 🥺 and when people commented that they felt represented by Rei, that she felt more realistic than PB's usual MC, well, that was my peak as a writer lol so they're basically OC's, with their own personalities and temperaments.

10. Do you participate in any writing events or challenges throughout the year? If so, what do you like about them? I do, but I wish I could participate more often! The prompts are what I like the most, because they give me ideas that I'd have never thought to write about before.

11. Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing? Meg Cabot was my favorite author growing up and I read some of Sophie Kinsella’s books too, so probably my love for adding a bit of comedy, silly little things in my fanfics came from them. I love Jane Austen too. And last but not least, my flair for angst definitely came from reading Fruits Basket, my favorite manga ever. There’s so much angst in Furuba dodksdishd Takaya Natsuki-sensei really enjoys it. I recommend reading her other manga series, Twinkle Stars, too.

12. What element of writing do you struggle with most? Actually writing lmao. You know, taking the plot out of my mind and typing it down on Google Docs. Writing is hard, takes too much time and I'm lazy 😩 I wish I could just transfer my ideas to a document and it's done. No need to write, no need to revise, etc. I love the final product, but I hate the process.

13. Do you have any abandoned WIPs? What made you abandon them? A BUNCH OAJDSKDKD 🤦 Either because my inspiration to write it has faded or because I don't want to spend my whole time writing.

14. You’re applying for the fanfic writer of the year award. What five fanfics do you put in your portfolio? Oooooh great question! I must put:

If Jane Was Here - Alternative ending (ILITW): this is the only finale I accept sorrynotsorry

Too Little Too Late - Jax x MC (Bloodbound): I wanted to feel hurt. People cried. I loved it sclkdsdjsops

The Loudest One - Bryce x F!MC (Open Heart): I wrote this one for CFWC Kinktober! And honestly, this is the best smut scene I have written. I’m quite proud about it.

Satisfied - Jax x Lily (Bloodbound): it was fun writing for my crack ship! My babies. And the first smut scene I have ever written. I’m glad it was with these two. I still can’t get over the fact that either one of them dies in BB’s finale. I cannot accept skfjdpd

Lullaby - Tyril x Elf!F!MC (Blades): don’t get me wrong, I love Tyril and his goth lordling mysterious elf boy personality and the first time he and MC made out was HOT but… I missed a bit of clousure before, you know? It felt a bit sudden to me, so I wrote a couple of fanfics showing their growing interest and attraction towards one another. This one is a light cute one and I really like it.

15. Do you create original content aside from fanfiction (original stories, art, etc)?  I sometimes draw some fanarts in which you can see by searching for #occasional drawings on my Tumblr.

Do you want to contribute with questions/ideas for the next Meet The Writer Q&A? Send us a message.

Thanks for reading! Reblog to share your appreciation for @julia-highstorms​ ❤️

[kitreadsbirdmen]

Birdmen Finale Thoughts

A Reflection on the End

Birdmen checked a lot of boxes for me. The most superficial being wings and flying, concepts that I would imagine from the window of a speeding car or subway train. I can’t say I was attracted to the freedom of the idea, that frankly scared me silly. But it was fascinating enough, and it preoccupied this small part of my imagination from time to time with the pull of the absolutely inexplicable. What if… What if something happened? What if I were different or strange? How would everyone react? What would I do? How would I change or what would I do to fight that change?

These thought experiments often led me to self-indulgent stories with fantasitcal premises that would only halt the speculation and sweep their characters towards their own plots and narratives. They would only glance over to the vastly more interesting human fallout of the [insert truly miraculous phenomenon] for the sake of episodic drama or a comedic take. These would deep down be very disappointing to me because they failed to give weight to the mind-spinning concept of the supernatural. By brushing past it, the story would dismiss my biggest questions, the ones I felt a morbid curiosity to see explained vicariously. That’s probably why I was so hooked to Birdmen at first. 

Birdmen was and is... rather mundane if you think about it. Grounded, set in a recognizable reality, gave nuance to very human quirks and details of life and society. Kinda dull-ish, slightly charming, and depressing, with all the same desire for something more that we feel when we watch the clock tick away. And even the murmurs of the supernatural had this incredulous air. Something amusing and perhaps hard to dismiss nevertheless. And as our cast is thrust into this new spin on reality, it’s given weight and time. Growing pains full of stumbling youth shenanigans and strife. The Introductory Arc is some masterful execution of humanity as the line of a new species skirts more and more into a diverging reality. It’s here that a very different kind of strength is capitalized on. The limitless potential found within limitation itself.

The core concept and primary conflict of birdmen comes from the subtle utilization of a grounded scientific and philosophical school of thought. This limits the entire narrative to concepts inspired not by the dramatic needs or visual aesthetic, but by the imagination of existing science itself. While a lot of things can boast this particular source, I think Birdmen is very conservative with where it could go. The most outlandish things are noted but not abused. Nothing is absurd no matter the demand. It’s the reason why I found the lore behind the growing science and discovery of the Seraph abilities to be immersive. It’s why I could create a million 1st ability ideas, headcanons, and theories (some of which would actually get confirmed) in one sitting. The source material existed within limits and therefore opened the door to boundless potential. 

To put it in a word, it’s realistic.

Realistic characters, events, ‘villains’, powers, relationships, conflicts… the list goes on. When we pick up a story we suspend our disbelief to welcome the basic empathy and logic to engage us through the world. But I felt a strange relationship with that process on so many levels for Birdmen. It’s why talking about it in-depth is such a hard to explain feeling. When fictional characters have all the nuance and depth as a real person. When wide-scale event scenarios start reflecting the common trends of the current mediascape. When manga-panels start echoing peer-reviewed articles… It becomes hard to see the need to suspend disbelief. At least not in the same way. It makes things seem so much more possible. Everything feels so much more personal.

The current pandemic has helped in this process of course. My life has been turned upside down and I often find myself asking ‘dude is this (still) happening???’. It makes a lot of stories and speculative fiction narratives seem a lot closer. But then the final arc of Birdmen introduces its own pandemic SEVERAL months before covid-19 is first spotted and we see a roll-out of cultural fallout that is eerily familiar. WHO press conferences following the resignation of Eden’s director. Forgetting your mask as you leave to greet your son’s arrival home. Teachers taking a sick day for themselves or perhaps out of caution (if only that worked state side lol). Misinformation and tension across social media. Unrest and riots in the street. (that image of Robin’s flock watching the riot from a distance got me big time. Mostly because I was thinking about the Capitol riots at the time). I think I just needed a chapter devoted to a successful and seamless vaccine distribution to set my resonating heart at ease.

...I’m not kidding there actually. We can’t just assume it went off without a hitch Tanabe. Can I get some wish-fulfillment here??

That actually brings me to a big takeaway as I read the final chapters. In my initial reflection, (and entire year ago) I talk about how I was certain Birdmen was prematurely cut short. And while there is probably a world Takayama could witness in his multiverse seeing eyes, where Birdmen runs for several more volumes and the playout of years of arcs goes much longer, I ultimately want to rescind that thought. 

I don’t think the ending was rushed. I don’t think Tanabe was racing against a clock to wrap things up. I don’t think she was dropping million plot threads into the void out of necessity. It is very clear at every point toward the end that Tanabe knew exactly where she was going and was taking a straight shot to that destination at every point. 

Yes, there are some characters that did not get a long enough time in the spotlight. Yes, there is a boundless potential to explore with many characters and concepts. Yes, there is an element of fallout that was left unaddressed. But this doesn’t make it unfinished or unsatisfying. The mundane, realistic nature of the narrative, allows this lack of tangible book-ends. It has uncertainty. The resolutions are not perfect. Not every person in your life is going to shine in the same way (no matter how much you like them). Their purpose in the narrative may seem small but has ripples of effects on the characters and chemistry of the collective. This is not wasted. I knew this wasn’t rushed because the primary themes of these characters came through and they were given all the space and time and panels they needed to tell that story. I noted this most when Robin was having that discussion with Agent Leo about her address to the media at the White House. The back and forth and revelations of Robin’s entire arc were expressed in this one conversation and it lasted several pages. This is the final volume of the story and this nuance is getting the full dry clean treatment. How can I claim that this was rushed? If I had to claim any ill intent I might say we would have gotten a few more chapters of proper fallout, but that would only be for the sake of neatness. But as I mentioned there is something grounded about taking that away and leaving that to the imagination. 

And thus, I’m left feeling incredibly satisfied. So impossibly satisfied. Birdmen has become something so integral to my life and I feel changed having known and loved it. To see it take a bow as gracefully and profoundly as it did fills me with a personal satisfaction I cannot put into words. This is and will forever be, one of the finest stories I will ever read. 

There is a part of me refreshed. Inspired by the daring embrace of reality. Charmed by the beautiful characters. Intrigued by the possibilities still to be discussed. I am almost left a little overwhelmed with how much I want to do as a response, both for the sake and honor of Birdmen and for my own personal motivations. It’s a kind of weightlessness, burdened by crippling fear. 

It’s a lot like flying really. 

[365days365movies]

February 6, 2021: Romeo + Juliet (Review)

This movie is, in two words, a LOT.

Now, it’s not exactly a bad thing to be a lot, but that still means that it’s a lot. Of course, that’s to be expected of a Baz Luhrmann film, so I really shouldn’t be complaining. Before I get into my breakdown, though, I should probably consider what I think of Romeo and Juliet as a play, as well as other adaptations. Well, other adaptation.

Fact of the matter is, Romeo and Juliet definitely isn’t my favorite of the Bard’s plays. Maybe it’s because of overexposure, maybe it’s because of the romance...and maybe it’s just because I find the teenage love story and the protagonists overly melodramatic and not terribly convincing.

And, yeah, that really isn’t a good argument, and this play is an undisputed classic, of course. I mean, one of my favorite Shakespeare plays has a vengeful magician in command of a fairy servant and a mutant monster-man. Another one of his plays has a man bake his enemy’s children in a pie, for god-sakes. So, yeah, the “convincing” point isn’t fair. But, yeah, this has never been one of my favorites. However, I LOVE Franco Zeffirelli’s adaptation, which is legitimately fantastic. And, yes, I like it more than Luhrmann’s version. Is it my favorite adaptation of a Shakespeare play with the original play’s dialogue used? Well...

Goddamn it, Tumblr, you dropped the ball on this one! WHERE THE HELL ARE THE IAN MCKELLEN RICHARD III 1995 GIFs?!? Am I gonna have to make a GIFset myself? ‘Cause I’ll do it!

Anyway, let’s get into reviewing this mess, shall we?

Review

Cast and Acting: 7/10

Fin fact, that I already mentioned in the review: Leonardo DiCaprio and Claire Danes HAAAAAAAATED each other while filming this movie. And I’m gonna be honest...I’m not surprised. I’m not saying that their chemistry was bad, but I AM saying that it wasn’t as good as it should be. That might be because of their feelings towards one another...or it might be the fact that they aren’t great here. In the case of DiCaprio, he was good, even if he was a little clumsy with some of the lines of the play. And, to be fair, some of it can be blamed on Luhrmann’s direction. Danes...Danes isn’t great as Juliet, sorry. Compare her to Olivia Hussey and she’s WAY worse in the role. Not trying to be too harsh, but they aren’t great. They aren’t exactly bad, but making this lines work takes a real comprehensive knowledge of how to speak and read Shakespeare. DiCaprio sometimes shows that...Danes shows that skill far less.

Everybody else, though? I mean, Harold Perrineau is GREAT, as is Postlethwaite, Margoyles, Sorvino, Curtis-Hall, and even Mihok sometimes. John Leguizamo...let’s just say that, the entire film, ALL I could hear was Sid the Sloth threatening to destroy the Montagues.

Plot and Writing: 9/10

I mean...it’s Shakespeare. Might not be my favorite of his play’s but it’s still a timeless masterpiece. Not that all of his plays are amazing (coughcoughThe Taming of the Shrewcoughcough), but this one is perhaps the most timeless of all of them, with Hamlet as a possible rival. And since this is a direct-word adaptation, I’ll have to judge something else: the screenplay. That is, HOW the text is interpreted on-screen. And, uh...guns are called swords, and have swords on them, which is silly. And that’s the only real flaw I’ve got. Craig Pearce and Baz Luhrmann had the unique challenge of making a direct-word adaptation that could be accessible to the viewing audience, most of whom aren’t Shakespeare scholars. And in that purpose...yeah, it totally works. Credit where credit’s due.

Directing and Cinematography: 7/10

Cinematography throughout this movie is pretty goddamn great, not gonna lie. Now, there are many reasons for this, but at the end of the day, this film organizes its shots quite well. Nice one, Donald McAlpine! Directing...directing. Baz Lurhmann is..a lot. But that’s not entirely his fault. However, the way certain actors are directed is ENTIRELY his fault, and there are points taken off for that. Because sometimes...sometimes...just...SOMETIMES...

Production and Art Design: 10/10

NO hesitation with this one, this film’s appearance is iconic, memorable, visually distinctive...amazing. It’s an amazing looking movie! Yeah, this one’s a perfect score, no goddamn joke there!

Music and Editing: 3/10

...Look, the music is fine. Three people (Nellee Hooper, Marius de Vries, Craig Armstrong) worked on it, and both the original score for the film, and some of the premade songs use work quite well. Some of them, however, like “When Doves Cry,” are just...weird. But, still, credit where credit’s due. So, then, why the low score?

BECAUSE JILL BILCOCK’S EDITING MADE ME STROKE THE FUCK OUT, THAT’S WHY. This movie’s frenetic editing, while typical of the Luhrmann-Bilcock collaborations, HURT MY GODDAMN MIND. And, yeah, this movie was nominated for Best Visual Edting, and Best Sound Editing, AND ABSOLUTELY DESERVED NEITHER. Listen to me, OK? Editing is a notoriously difficult thing to judge, and that goes for the Oscars committee as well. Often, the editing that makes it to nominations is the editing that’s easiest to see, and therefore easiest to judge. But just because your editing is obvious DOESN’T MEAN IT’S GOOD GOD FUCKING DAMMIT MY EYES ARE BLEEDING

All things considered, I’m going for a 72%

It’s fine...but it’s also a lot. As Shakespeare adaptations go, this definitely isn’t the worst. Hell, as RaJ adaptations go, it probably isn’t the worst, either. But in any case, this one just...hurt my mind. MOCK ME IF YOU MUST, but that editing really took a toll on my psyche.

I could do more Baz Luhrmann, and tackle Moulin Rouge...buuuuuuuut, no. Not now, anyway.  How bout we go for another adaptation of a British author’s story? And for that matter, let’s go for a recently popular one!

February 8, 2021: Emma (2020)

[jrueships]

need you to elaborate on the pg/kawhi demon summoner au if there’s anything to elaborate on… 😳

OF COURSE <3!!! So far it's mainly just a bunch of ideas that I'll (hopefully) soon end up stringing together with a plot! It's probably gonna end up long so it might be my next longer fic after I finish the spiderman donny/royce! (So it'll be a LONG while until I actually write it probably because I'll work on some shorter ones to give my brain a break) BUT I will GLADLY elaborate on the ideas I have for it so far! They're a wip so some things might change later but!!! The fic+topic is kinda dark so! Just a fair warning !!!

The fic takes place in a strict private christian college known for its rigorous focus on centering its students to holy divinity. (So basically just a boot camp for the troubled kids to adapt a love of religion and be 'cured' from whatever troubles plague them). Kawhi was sent there to expand his social skills and talk more, essentially. Just because he kept often to himself, people assumed something was naturally wrong with him. So they shipped him away to a place with all white walls and priests who know only the verses they want to see.

The first half of his year was nothing but loneliness. He has two roommates, a choir boy and a student who also wanted nothing to do with the school, but everything to do with his friend on the otherside of the gate. The choir boy, Victor Oladipo, is a vain young man devoted to gospel. He finds his roommates' disinterest sickening, and therefore spends most of his time in the school's built in church center away from the sinners. The other student is Demar DeRozan, a young man sent to the school in hopes of curing his horrible thoughts and diseased mind. Despite his therapy, he always finds the time to sneak out and giggle with his friend on the other side, Kyle.

In conclusion, Kawhi was lonely.

During most religious teachings, rather than paying attention to what the priest is doing, he watches for the sinners. Watches how they summon, more specifically.

Kawhi was lonely, and he wanted a friend on the other side.

One night he follows after Demar, watching him fervently share words with the smaller across the fence as if it were an iron curtain separating two lovers. Then he quietly scatters away from the duo to talk to His own friend.

The summoner was a little messy, but thankfully the sacrifices were plentiful if he messed up; the college prided over its cattle.

It takes a while, so he sneaks back to his dorm using demar as a guide. Victor enters the room later, giving them both an upturned nose of superior disappointment.

The next night when Kawhi visits, he finds his circle dismantled. He puts his ear to the black fence and listens. He knocks once, and gets two knocks back. His friend has arrived.

He hears a soft flutter of bent, broken wings. And a faint smell of charred flesh. His new friend was special. His friend asks him in a voice only he can hear, "what are your demands, master?"

Kawhi's first demand was for the friend to not call him master.

His second was a question for his name. Which The demon denied. So kawhi called him Paul George, two names he had seen in the Bible before.

Their conversation gets cut short, watching from afar as demar is caught in conversation by one of the wandering pastors with a light. He gets pulled roughly by the arm and there's unfavorable scolding.

Kawhi's third demand was for Paul to stop the pastor. And so Paul does.

Paul George wasn't what Kawhi thought he'd look like. He didn't have devil horns, but rather angel wings for ears and torn wings at his shoulder blades that looked more like a burnt cape. He did have a demon tail, though, that swished quickly when annoyed. A thorny crown sat as his crude halo, and it glowed a burning gold. He also had the number 13 branded onto his left side. And he also couldn't fly, but he could leap and climb and make it look like he could soar. When he soared, all the blood shook off him and faded as if he never caused it to be there in the first place.

Kawhi didn't want a demon, though. He just wanted a friend. He wasn't interested in Paul's suggested contracts nor Paul's persuasions for more power. But because Kawhi was his summoner, Paul couldn't attack him. He was just there to complete his purpose, no matter how ... silly it was. Which really sucked because Paul was looking forward for blood.

After The Incident, demar learns about the demon. Kawhi calms him down and convinces him to help him to keep quiet. The priest was old anyways.

Kawhi tells Paul to stay outside the fence. Demar tells him not to hurt Kyle. Then they sneak back into their dorms and wait for Victor's annoyed return. But, something crawls up to their window and knocks twice for enterance just as Victor climbs up the old steps to their room. Paul George wouldn't hurt Kyle, but he also wouldn't obey Kawhi's command for space.

Which was going to make hiding his new friend with very sharp teeth a trouble for Kawhi.

SO that's the basic plot really!!!! Some planned ideas is that a priest discovers Paul and plans to perform an exorcism on him. But Kawhi ends up m*rdering him because of it. There's some more but.. I'll keep the ending to myself LMAO

OVERALL.. it's mainly like.. dark subjects and such but like??? It's not BLEAK?? It's like dark action? Idk!!! It's just something I like thinking about !!!! Idk if it's all that interesting tbh! So Idk if I'll write it eventually. Probably it'll end up just being something I think about whenever I listen to certain songs LMAO, BUT!!!! I really hope you liked reading these ideas, anon!!!!!!! Thank u sm for asking! I love talking about my ideas!!!!!

[tarithenurse]

Stolen - 23

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson &/x fem!gifted!reader Content: A roller coaster of emotions and feels. A/N: So my psychiatrist recommended/ordered for me to take 2 weeks of sick leave because I’m a stressed out mess...that’s not going to stop me from writing, of course. Au contraire, without work I’ll have more time for that! Ask or reblog for tag ;)

23. Misery Machine

...   Reader   ...

What the ever-living FUCK? The bubble of happiness bursts, the pop loud in your mind but blown away by the cold storm raging before you in the shape of a raven-haired god with the colour of blood in his eyes. Memories of faces smiling during the feast come and go in a blur and leave you none the wiser as to what Loki’s problem is.

“Uh...yeah? It was okay,” you try carefully, “think I’m getting closer to Sif and the trio to accept me.”

“You don’t say?” Sarcasm is probably the default state for the god, you decide there and then. “Practically crawling onto their laps.”

Staring dumbfounded at him, each snarled accusation is a whiplash driving you closer to desperation as up and down cease to make any sense. Unsure whether to laugh, cry, or scream back at him, you just stand stock still. Loki, on the other hand, has taken to stalking around the room as he denounces the Asgardian ways – feasts, pretend friendships, nothing goes free – before ultimately turning to you again on an unseen wave of icy coldness radiating from the bluing skin.

“I’m surprised you didn’t have my dear brother rescue you,” he hisses, “or went with Fandral for comfort...he’d be more than willing to oblige.”

“Wait...what?”

Oh yeah, the fallen prince’s eyes are swallowed by red, leaving only a pinprick of black from the pupil. “You heard me.”

Sure did, smurf. “This’s ‘bout them? Are you...? D’you think I’m desperate enough to dick it down with Fandral or have Thor sweep me away like I’m some maiden in distress?”

Now you’re the one getting into his personal space. Though you’re far from as imposing compared to a god with ruby eyes and frosty skin, his raven hair cascading to his shoulders in ways fit for an anime character, you still manage to push him back a few steps before he digs his heels in.

“Tell me honestly, the idea doesn’t tempt you, mortal?”

“Hell yeah, it tempts me! But, y’know what? I can’t! If I go back home to hide and some day Thanos shows up...how’d you think that’d make me feel? Or if you take your dumb-ass on some quest to find the fucker only to get killed? No, that ain’t happening ‘cause I’ma stick through with this. That’s what this mortal’ll do: do things right.”

You can barely see him because tears (which you refuse to let fall) are blurring your vision. By some miracle, you manage to find the door and march down the dim hallway without bashing face first into something but by the time you turn the first corner, your cheeks are wet.

GAAARGH! He’s such an...an...UGH! Haven’t you already proven yourself? Sure, he might just see you as a mortal, as he keeps pointing out, but how many mortals does he know that would’ve been able to handle the mess he’s thrown at you? Admittedly, it might be your self-diagnosed Stockholm Syndrome speaking when you feel you deserve more respect from Loki. Not that he has to “like me” like me...just...

Wiping salt water and probably snot from your face, you look around for somewhere to be alone with your thoughts and spot a double door which could lead to a balcony or terrace only to find it blocked by a blond figure.

“Lady [Y/N]?” You’ve only spoken with Thor once, but no one else has a voice like that, a voice you don’t want to hear right now. “Please, tell me what troubles you.”

Why bother? It’s so easy to follow along as he cups your elbow with one of the huge hands and escorts you onto what does indeed turn out to be a balcony.

Any other person would gasp at the view of the golden-roofed city below, stretching towards the ocean and the infinity of space just beyond. You, a sarcastic thought jeers in your mind, you’re busy sniffling and holding back tears because of some silly spat – and there’s no way you can tell that truth to the man beside you.

“I know...I’m a stranger to you and you have no reason to trust me with your worries,” Thor begins softly, “yet I do feel responsible for your fate. Your chance of happiness. What my brother di-”

“Enough!” The exclamation startles him, blue eyes reconsidering the woman before him. Oops. “I’m...I’m sorry, your highness,” you try to recover while your heart beats in your ears. “Forgive me. You have no obligations on my behalf, your brother’s actions are not yours to atone for.”

The dazzling smile is pretty even if it’s barely hiding a pain beneath. “Kind words, but clearly it torments you.”

“No.” Oh, that’s actually true. “No, what pains me is what I’ve learned since. Thor...you’ve been to Earth. You’ve seen us humans...and you know we’re hopelessly unprepared for what’s to come!”

“Even if Loki would be foolish enough to attack once more, Midgard is not defenceless. You know this.”

The Avengers. Thor had stopped Loki and his Chitauri (as you later found out the aliens were called) invasion. It hadn’t exactly been pretty which is something a lot of politicians are still pointing out – or were before you suddenly found yourself at the mercy of the guy who’d plotted the attack. It feels like years ago.

“Not...” How can I say this right? “Not Loki. Thor, please believe me, he’s not the real problem.”

“Any threat at all...your realm is under my protection.” At least his brows have the decency to furrow, almost hiding the pristine blue.

“He came for the Tesseract...but he already had a Scepter with magical abilities. Where did he get that? Who helped him – or who did he help?”

Obviously, the older brother isn’t as dimwitted as Loki claims because you can see tiny lights go on and off as he connects some of the dots – eyes gazing through your skull and into a different infinity than the one beyond the borders of Asgard and finding the murky areas where there isn’t enough information to illuminate the unknown.

When the crown prince does focus on you, a new worry tightens the muscles of his jaw. “If the Tesseract was all he wanted, why not leave?”

“Who wanted the Tesseract, really? And was that all?”

“Then why the invasion? A smoke screen?”

You shrug (even if it’s hard with Thor’s heavy hands resting on your shoulders) because what else can you do? And silence falls again as each option and its implications are weighed carefully.

“What makes you certain of this?”

Loki might be the God of Lies, Mischief, and whatnot...but looking up into his brother’s face there’s no way he wouldn’t sniff out the smallest inkling of deceit.

“I don’t know anything for sure,” you sigh, “I was...shown some bits and pieces. Been trying to make sense of it.”

“A vision.”

Weeeeell... “If that’s what you’d call it. I’m just scared of what might happen.”

Later, you’d think back of it as a pretty decent hug, but in the moment you are more concerned with continuously breathing as Thor pulls you into a crushing embrace.

“Get some rest, little one,” he smiles tiredly after pulling back, “you have my word I’ll look into this matter.”

... Loki   ...

He hears her return to the suite, mainly due to the subdued curses as she struggles to undress. Then the few candles he had left alight are snuffed before [Y/N] settles into bed with a sigh. The single candle in the servant’s tiny room creates sharp borders between shadows and illuminated areas unless Loki exhales particularly hard. I’m not sighing.

Since the woman had stormed out of the quarters, the Jotun has tried to calm himself down and ignore the screaming in his marrow as guilt eats through the bones. Eventually, he succumbed and went to bed only to lie and stare up into the ceiling. A thin blade slips between his fingers in repeated somersaults until he grabs the knife by the handle only to redo the whole thing.

Counting his breaths, he reaches well into the hundreds before daring to step into the suite. The slanted moonbeams illuminate patches on the floor and bed, glistening on the silken covers shaped like a woman. He does his best to ignore it, he really does. Moving silently, Loki picks up the scattered layers of the dress to straighten them out and hang them on the other side of the screen. In the cold light, it is difficult to ascertain the colour of the fabric but he remembers it clearly from when he saw her across the room during the feast where he had been expected to assist – a task perfectly suited to get him closer to the servant and listen to their gossip, of course. He has to shake himself from the tainted memories before continuing the silent duties.

Once, not too long ago, these were details he didn’t bother with. The work of lowly servants, there was no need for a prince to worry about picking up after himself unless he chose to, and while Loki was (and is) meticulous he had certainly never expected to be the one doing this for others. Beneath me! Grumbling within, he still lingers to let the delicate ribbon from [Y/N]’s hair slither between his fingers.

It’s a welcome diversion to imagine how it would be to untie the bow and set her locks free. Or to be the one slipping the straps of the dress off her shoulders and watch it hang on for dear life by her bosom. To gently tug at it, bearing the nipples for me to admire. He can see it in his mind. What Loki doesn’t notice are the eyes watching him.

[patricia-von-arundel]

A World on Its Side: Prologue - A Temporary Sanctuary; Strange Smiles

Art by @zaaschila​

An anon sent this what-if:  What if: Jeralt's mercenaries was in actuality not a mere mercenary group, but one with more organization and it has its own squad section that acted in the shadows like spies or infiltrator. What if: they received a request that ended up with them secretly raided the place where El and her siblings were experimented on? (I'll leave the number of survivors to you) What if: they rescued the kids and disguised them, raising them along with Byleth in the merc group?

I opted to keep Jeralt as a mercenary, and then, well... 

Before I start the story, I’m going to explain some of my thought process in how I wrote it, and then of what I’m concerned about with it. I would really, really appreciate feedback as to whether this particular style seems to be working, or if I goofed it and should scrap it and start over using a more traditional story format. This is just part 1 - I didn’t intend for it to get this long (shocker, I know), and we’re just getting to where the action starts, despite the format being an attempt to keep it short and sweet. So, uh... yeah. Under the cut, some info/thoughts.

This was initially just going to be Edelgard being rescued through meeting Byleth and training as a mercenary, but then I wondered what would happen if they somehow eventually wound up at the monastery anyway (bear with me when I haven’t given the reasons for that chain of events yet - I do have a chain, I promise), and then it became... well, I don’t want to spoil everything, but there’s more. And then it was the usual “well, shit” moment of realizing I didn’t have a drabble, I had this whole, stupid story. With inconvenient nonsense like a plot. 

...Bother. 

So what I wanted to try to do, to keep it as short as possible (ha!), was write it in more a... well, not a comic-book format, obviously, but as if it was, or perhaps a serialized pulp kind of story, since the whole “what-if” thought came from my love of the Marvel “What If?” comics I read as a kid. Not a whole lot of introspection or exposition in here, just action and movement from one scene to the next. No room for lollygagging in the mind. 

And I think that worked broadly, but what I’m concerned about is that it muzzled Edelgard. Especially since she doesn’t have a lot of chance to show her anger and her pain without introspection, because she almost never talks about it. She felt to me at risk of losing her bite - and of getting over what happened to her too quickly. And that’s the last thing I want, because without those parts of her, she’s no longer, following the canon scenario of her childhood, Edelgard. It can be argued that a certain degree of softness might be acceptable if she was in the hands of Jeralt after the experiments rather than (I assume?) Hubert and Thales/”Arundel,” but I still worry that it becomes too much. Or that when the darkness in her does surface here and there, it rings false, because nothing else in the text supports it. I shouldn’t rely on readers’ knowledge of that side of her. That’s sloppy writing and bad characterization. 

I also doubt Edelgard was still being experimented on this late in her life, but I needed to make it late for the sake of that damned plot. That won’t change regardless of whether I decide to rewrite it. I could stretch out her time with Jeralt and Byleth a little bit more, I suppose, if it just seems too unlikely she was still there only a year before the events of the game start. (Again, I doubt it myself. But I needed it for the story.) You can probably tell at the beginning that, before the plot wormed its way in, she was initially written to seem younger than seventeen. I haven’t changed that (yet). 

So... now what I have to decide is whether to complete the story in this choppy, scene-to-scene format, or scrap it and do more development in a longer story. Therefore, I will happily accept the most scathing criticism you can throw at me. (I mean, I would anyway, but for this, I’m asking for it! Please tell me if Edelgard is just... completely unrecognizable.) 

This is also... well, you may see this story as choppy for other reasons. Personal reasons I will go into at a future time. Whether you like it or not, let’s say this story is something of a rebirth. And with birth comes starting anew. Never a quick and easy process. Shaky steps.  

All that said, if it does work - I hope you enjoy. This is not my usual style of writing at all, so it was kind of fun to just write the exciting parts. Even if the real excitement won’t begin until later. 

Part 1/?

Rating: TBD (this part is probably a T, just for the beginning)

-

She tensed at the sound of footsteps, biting back a whimper - even that would hurt. She was too weak to lift her head, time now a blur of slippery consciousness. The footsteps were the first thing she had heard in... in what seemed a very long time. She could no longer say how long. There was just herself - and the silence. 

They’re all dead. 

I’m dying, too. Then the rats will eat me. 

The rats were gone, for now. Sated by the flesh of the others - the tortured, mutilated remains of those who had been her brothers and sisters, left to rot around her. She no longer opened her eyes. She told herself she had grown accustomed to the smell. 

Perhaps she wanted to die. To be quiet and still, as they were - to feel no more pain. No more fighting the shackles. No more screaming beneath the needles, the knives, the magic. No more agony sent coursing through her with every frantic beat of her heart. 

She lived, though. Whatever she might long for - she lived. 

And they were coming for her again. 

She hugged her arms around herself, curling up as small and tight as the chains would allow, despite the pain of movement - it was almost involuntary. She had begged, at the start. Begged them not to hurt her. Begged for the others to be alright. Begged for her father to save her. But it did nothing. So now, she lay silent, and still, and alone. 

The steps were coming closer now, echoing in the stone corridor. But something curious about them - they seemed almost... hesitant?

Father?

Her breath caught, hope like a taper within her scarred, aching chest. But just as quickly, it was gone again: the voice she heard was not her father - nor any she had ever heard before. 

“The lock,” it said - deep and rough, even in hardly more than a whisper. “Be quick about it. We don’t have much time.”

“I know, I know.” A woman’s voice now, but just as rough. It made her think of the kitchen girls gossiping under their breath, their accents so harsh it sometimes seemed almost a language of its own. “Shut up. Lemme work.”

The soft clattering of metal pushed slowly, carefully against metal - an even softer click - then the familiar scrape as the door separated from its thick iron base. 

“Wait here,” the first voice said. 

“You’re the boss.”

A candle - he had a candle. How long had it been since she’d seen natural light? The ones who kept them here used strange, glowing orbs, set high against the walls, casting only faint, greenish light to the floor below. She wanted to stare at that bright little flame, despite the pain against her eyes. But it was too much. She looked at the man instead. 

It was hard to make out details of his features, candle or not, but there was clearly a harshness to them that matched his voice. Sharp eyes, scarred face. 

Scars. 

She opened her mouth, but no sound could force its way past the rough, swollen surface of her throat. She didn’t know him, but he wasn’t one of them, and that was enough to relight that taper, deep inside her. 

Those tentative steps again - he held the candle out, casting it around the cavernous room, empty of all but chains... and corpses. 

And her. 

“What the hell?” He was breathing shallowly, through his mouth, and suddenly she was very aware that the stench was still there. A trickle of the nausea she had felt the first time she smelled it, realized what it was, once more twisted through her belly. Like her whimper, she fought it back - dry-heaving had more than once made her pass out from the pain. If she passed out, he might think she was dead, too. She would be left. 

Please! But still, she could force out no words. 

“They sure didn’t mention this...” the man said. She didn’t look down to see what he saw. She didn’t want to see, truly, what they had become: the sisters who had braided flowers into her hair and showed her how to knock apples from the trees. The brothers who had called her silly names and sometimes read her stories. That was not all there had been, but it seemed, now, all she could remember: the childhood things she had not known to treasure. Things that could never come again. Things that no matter how many times she told herself to forget, her mind seemed simply incapable. 

“What is it?” the woman asked, sotto voce, from the doorway. 

“Pretty sure it’s the Hresvelg kids. But they’re all long - wait.”

Sudden light, full in her eyes, and she gasped and shied back. Bolts of agony - in her head. In what remained of the rest of her. 

When the opened her eyes again, he was crouching before her, holding the candle carefully aside. His own eyes were brown - and softer, friendlier, than any she had seen for a long, long time. 

She felt her lip tremble, but resisted the urge to cry. Crying hurt, too. And besides - like begging, it did nothing at all. 

“Hey,” the man said. “What’s your name?”

For the first time in days - weeks - months - she found her voice again: 

“Edelgard.”

-

“What’ll you do with her, Jeralt?”

Jeralt - the first time she had learned the man’s name. They had made a makeshift sling for her across his back; she was too weak to walk, much less to ride, and so was strapped in a blanket like some swaddled infant. She might have cared more if all of her focus was not on staying conscious - even at a slow pace, every step the horse took sent nauseating agony pulsing through her. 

The man - Jeralt - seemed to consider for awhile, then sighed heavily. “I was going to bring them back to Remire if they needed some patching up before I figured it all out, so I guess I’ll take her home with me. Maybe some company her own age will open the kid up a little bit.” 

“If this one survives. She’s in pretty bad shape, Jeralt.”

“She can hear you, you know. Anyway - just another reason to keep her with me, at least for now. It might be hard to hide 11 children just reappearing, but one? Simple accident. Poison made to look like some common ailment. Anyone who kills 10 children - 10 Imperial children, no less - doesn’t seem likely to care about killing one more. I’ll figure out what to do when she’s gotten some of her strength back.”

It was night - Edelgard could see the outlines of trees against the sky, and the stars above them. The world smelled of wet leaves, the earth, a clean chill that spoke of autumn. Despite her discomfort, she couldn’t ignore it - couldn’t stop a frisson of... of almost hope. 

“Still back there?”

“Yes,” she said.

At some point, she slept.

-

She woke to blue eyes, far too close to her own. 

Her first instinct was to scramble away - but even attempting to push back with her arms brought a cry of pain she could do nothing to suppress. She hunched her shoulders and closed her eyes once more, breathing in harsh gasps, until the sharpest of the agony subsided, leaving the familiar, dull ache that she had come to know so well. 

“Sorry.”

“You don’t sound particularly sorry.” The words out before she could stop them, somehow defensive of her own childish behavior - but it was true. She heard no apology in that voice. 

“Huh?”

Edelgard finally forced her eyes open again. The others, thankfully, had retreated - instead of looming over her, they now watched from beside the bed. They belonged to a girl about her own age, perhaps a little older - though without a current date, Edelgard had long since lost track of how old she now was. The girl had messy hair that matched those blue eyes and well-patched clothing. She was still staring quite unabashedly. 

“My father said he’d be back soon,” she said - as if already dismissing her attempt at an apology. 

“Your father?”

“Jeralt. He said you might be thirsty when you woke up. No food yet. Are you thirsty?”

Non-sequiturs. It took Edelgard a moment - thinking was hard enough through the haze of pain. Was she thirsty? She had found herself, at times, lapping at puddles on the floor, desperate, telling herself it was moisture seeping through stone, and nothing more. 

Silent, painful attempts to speak, the night of her rescue...

“Yes,” she said - trying to hide the sudden, urgent realization of need. “Please.”

“I have to be careful.” Another strange, contextless statement - then the girl was up and gone, right out the open door to the outside. Edelgard could see the grass there, and the dark trunks of trees just beyond. 

For the first time, she wondered exactly where she was. She looked around - a small cottage, perhaps? No more than a cabin? There was a semblance of two rooms, but no complete wall or doorway between them. She seemed to be in the smaller of the two. There was little to see - rough, chinked-wood walls; beams across the low ceiling; one bed besides her own, and what looked like a pallet on the floor between them. The next room was only in partial view: a fireplace, a table and two chairs, cured meat and dried vegetables hanging from ropes strung across the walls. 

She had never been anywhere like this. But it wasn’t the hell beneath the palace in Enbarr - sunlight streamed through the narrow window next to her bed, and across the threshold of the open door on the other side of the room. She could feel the warmth; hold one weak hand up and watch it cast a shadow across the quilt around her. That was what she must focus on. 

Sunlight. 

Freedom. 

The strange girl returned, now with a bowl and a ladle. She stopped short of the bed, and seemed to consider for a moment, looking towards the other room. “Do you want a cup? I think at least one is clean.”

Edelgard shook her head. Best to try not to think about it all just now. Best just to pretend that of course she knew how to drink from a ladle. Best to ignore the protests of her swollen throat as she swallowed - and to ignore as well the water that spilled down her chin, her chest. It was cold. 

“Slowly,” the girl said. If she noticed the mess Edelgard was making, she said nothing. 

-

Cleaning her wounds was like yet another round on those tables, strapped down and screaming. Except... it wasn’t like that at all. Somehow. Despite the pain. 

“Do I need to have her hold you down?” Jeralt asked, nodding his head towards the strange girl - Byleth. Her name was Byleth. “This is going to hurt like pure hell.”

“No!” Too frantic - Edelgard stuffed it back: the terror of it. Her wrists and ankles were still raw, where the chains had bitten and rubbed away the skin. “I... I can stay still.”

The washing wasn’t so bad - it hurt, and a lot, but he was careful and quick. She could finally see the full extent of what had been done to her: her legs, her arms, and most of all her chest were a tangled web of scars and puffy, red-and-purple half-healed incisions. She could hardly stand to even look at them. 

No one here had asked what they meant. She wasn’t going to tell them. She might not ever tell anyone. Anyone who knew was already dead - or would be very soon. 

Worse than the washing was the brown glass bottle - spirits. Strong ones; just the smell made her eyes water. “Sure you can stay still?” he asked the first time. 

She nodded. She was not sure at all. But she would. 

He took her hand, extending her arm out, over the floor. There was a tub there. His fingers were gentle, but held her firmly. 

“Won’t take long,” he said. 

She held her breath. 

On her other side - another hand slid into hers. She looked over, startled. 

Byleth. Her eyes met Edelgard’s. She was almost... smiling?

The alcohol was like acid against her swollen, abused skin. Her back arched, and she fought desperately the urge to twist away - and to scream. Still, her mouth opened, a silent cry, and she felt the tears streaming down her cheeks. 

Each of her legs. Her other arm. A rag, wiping agony against her chest. By the end, she was shaking with voiceless sobs, her body trembling all over. 

Byleth never let go, except to move to her other side, even after Jeralt said, “There we go, kid. I’m sorry about that.”

Edelgard kept her eyes closed, as if that did any good against the tears seeping from them. She felt scoured - flayed open, every nerve set ablaze. 

“He does the same to me.” Byleth’s monotone voice - but did Edelgard imagine the hand around hers squeezed, just slightly? “When I get hurt on missions. I took a sword to the back of my shoulder last summer, and he did that twice a day for two months. He does it to himself, too. You should hear him curse.”

It was by far the most Edelgard had ever heard her say at one time. But what caught her attention was - “Missions?”

“Mercenary missions.”

“You’re... mercenaries? You are? I mean - you, not just your father?”

“Yeah. For... awhile. I don’t remember exactly how long. Do you want some soup? You can try having some food now. But only a little bit at a time.”

Even when Byleth’s hand left hers, Edelgard could feel the warmth of it against her palm. 

A blur of weeks - she still slept often, and drank water almost ravenously. Food, even soup, was more difficult to reacquaint herself with; her stomach seemed to twist and clench, rejecting it. 

“Take what you can,” Jeralt said. “Just take what you can.”

Her wounds were healing - leaving raised, jagged scars, tattoos she did not need, would never need, to remember the place from whence they came. But there were no more baths of spirits, at least; just water now, every morning. It almost felt good: to be clean. To be cared for. 

As weeks became months, Jeralt encouraged her to begin walking again, to rebuild the muscle that had wasted away. Her legs and arms were so skeletal, fragile, she had almost grown afraid to even attempt to use them. 

But Byleth said, “Here,” and held out an arm. 

Edelgard hesitated - then placed a hand upon it. 

She would have been embarrassed by how tightly she clung, if she wasn’t focusing the entirety of her attention on her trembling, stiff, knock-kneed legs. She understood than how a foal must feel, stumbling to its feet for the first time after birth. 

Outside the window, she could see that winter had arrived: the trees bare, the sky low and grey. They must be well north of Enbarr - there was snow on the ground, more than she had seen since her time spent in the Kingdom. But nothing gave any greater clue as to where they might be. She hadn’t asked - she wasn’t sure she truly wanted to know. Not yet. 

When walking grew easier, Jeralt had her lift books or small pieces of firewood, to strengthen her arms. Byleth did the same, though surely it wasn’t necessary - even so young, Byleth was already all lean, hard muscle. Edelgard found herself watching how it moved, though she couldn’t say why. Envy, perhaps?

She didn’t understand many of her emotions, now. She kept them to herself. But she liked Byleth’s company, curious as it was, and she liked that odd little almost-smile Byleth sometimes gave her. 

She also watched, through the window, as Byleth trained at weapons: sometimes with Jeralt, more often alone. Jeralt was gone quite a lot - missions? - but Byleth stayed behind. She practiced most often with a sword, but occasionally with the axe used for cutting wood, or a long, sharpened stick in place of a proper lance. 

As the snow melted and daffodils began to peek through the crust of frozen earth, Edelgard felt almost whole again - or as whole as she was now likely to ever be. She still ached sometimes, but it was dull - bearable. She went outside, and could walk the perimeter of the little cottage six or seven times before beginning to feel exhausted. She woke in the morning eager for breakfast, plain as the fare on offer truly was. 

But with all of this came clearer mind - including the nagging reminder of the vow she had sworn, beneath the palace, as her family lay dying around her. A vow she would keep, even if it ultimately meant her death as well. The time had come - the time for true preparation to begin. 

The first almost spring-like day, warm and breezy - that was when she finally asked Byleth, “Will you teach me how to use weapons, as you do?”

Byleth lowered the makeshift lance, for a moment looking almost confused. “Why?”

“Because... because I'd like to learn. And it would continue to... to build my strength up.” She should have prepared an excuse in advance, instead of stammering all over herself. 

But Byleth, as usual, seemed not to notice. “Okay,” she said. “What would you like to start with?”

And so Edelgard began, slowly, to prepare for the future.

To prepare for vengeance.

-

It was late spring when she finally confessed. It was only two months until the Garland Moon, and her birthday seemed as appropriate a time as any to leave. She could not put this off any longer - it was time to accept that. 

But she also could not stand the thought of leaving Byleth without warning. Especially since...

“Kid?” Jeralt’s voice, late in the night - soft, but Edelgard no longer slept deeply or soundly, and woke at the slightest noise. “Hey - this again?”

In the meager moonlight seeping between the closed curtains, Edelgard could see Jeralt standing beside the pallet where Byleth now slept, half-bent over her. Byleth was on the pallet, just as she should have been. But she was sitting up, and her eyes were open. Open wide. The meager moonlight seeping through the curtains seemed to catch in them, so that their deep blue appeared almost green. 

It was not the first time it had happened - and if anything, the frequency of it was increasing. Each time, it lasted only a few minutes, then Byleth would begin to stir and murmur, as if waking from perfectly normal sleep. She saw a girl, she said - but never elaborated, and Jeralt did not ask, and Edelgard did not know if it was her place to do so, despite her curiosity... and her concern. 

She liked Byleth. She liked Byleth... in ways, and for reasons, she did not understand. That hand holding hers. An arm to help her stand again. Strange, wordless smiles. For the better part of a year now, Byleth had been here, a constant companion, helping, serving, teaching. 

And now, when Byleth might be the one in need, Edelgard was leaving. She had to. But she owed Byleth at least an attempt at explanation of why.

“I would like to show you something,” Edelgard finally said one morning, as they were finishing breakfast. Just the two of them, Jeralt gone again; Edelgard was not ready to face both of them, though she suspected Jeralt already knew much of what she was going to say. 

“Okay.” Byleth cleared away the table, accepting the request as easily as always. “Where?”

“Outside.”

It felt almost like summer - hot, the air still and heavy. Perhaps that was why Edelgard could feel the sticky discomfort of perspiration against her hands as she lifted the now-familiar old axe they used for practice. 

She had never allowed herself to do this before, yet she knew herself capable of it: gathering all the power now contained within her. 

The power of two Crests. 

She drew the axe back, and hurled it before she could second guess herself. 

Capable. Yes - the strength they had whispered of with such hungry need...

The axe flew, a blur of silvery-blue, and sliced completely through the slender trunks of two young trees before stopping, with a reverberating thunk, deep inside another.  

Edelgard left it there and turned to Byleth, speaking the words before she could fight them back: “I have to leave. And soon. There... there is something I must do.”

Byleth just stared at her for what seemed a long time, her expression almost... concerned? It was hard to say. It was always hard to say. 

“I know who you are,” she finally said. “And I know where my father found you. That’s why we came here - because it was safe for the Hresvelg children, if they needed to be kept hidden. But you were the only one who lived.”

Edelgard looked down, afraid her expression would offer more than she was yet prepared to give. “Yes.” At least that part she wouldn’t have to try to explain. How long had Byleth known? “They were doing... experiments. They wanted...” She took a deep breath, and forced her head back up, her eyes meeting Byleth’s. “They wanted a weapon.”

She told it all: the experiments. The deaths. The dungeons. She told it before the begging voice in the back of her mind could gain control. By the end, she was looking down once more: at her arms, crossed tightly against her chest. 

At the scars. 

“Two months until you go looking for them?” Byleth asked, when Edelgard was finally silent once more. 

“Yes. Two months and a bit.”

“Go get the axe.”

Edelgard looked up then, surprised - it sounded almost like an order. But Byleth stared right back - then turned and left. Walked into the house without another word. 

Edelgard blinked. 

Then, she did as told. It took three tries to jerk the axe from the tree. She didn’t want to use her Crests again. Even with no one watching, she felt self-conscious now. Vulnerable and exposed. She bit her lip and took a deep breath before turning back. 

Byleth had gotten a charred remnant of log from the fireplace, and used it to draw a large X on a tree - a far bigger one than those Edelgard had severed, and far closer to the clearing where they trained. 

“Can you hit that?”

Again, Edelgard was surprised. She looked at the tree, then back to Byleth. “I... I suppose so?”

But the axe flew far to the left of the target. Edelgard did her best to keep her expression neutral, but there was no way to hide the flush that rose in her cheeks. “I... perhaps I am tired. My apologies.”

Byleth cocked her head, considering, apparently, the untouched target. “That’s what we should focus on,” she said. “Before you leave. Your aim. We can do that in two months.”

But they didn’t have two months.

-

Edelgard was half-awake in bed, drowsy, blanket pulled to her face. Jeralt was packing to leave again, and quiet as he was, it had been enough to keep her from sleep. Byleth was in the other room, preparing food for his journey. 

An ordinary evening - until came the desperate, frantic pounding at the door. 

Edelgard sat bolt upright, sleep forgotten, her heart pounding at the sudden noise and the accompanying, baseless, terrified thought: They’ve found me. She pulled the blanket to her shoulders, like a child after a nightmare. Byleth was standing in the partition between the two rooms, and Edelgard tried to focus on her - bright, alert eyes. Her hands by her side... but one held a knife. 

It was Jeralt who opened the door. 

Edelgard tensed. Blood pounding in her ears - she could hardly understand what they were saying. Something about an attack...?

It’s just boys. Just three boys. Nothing dangerous about them. Dressed in uniform, though they did not appear to be military. Something familiar about it, though - had she seen such uniforms before? When she was younger, maybe?

One of them - the tallest among them, his unkempt blond hair falling across his face - was scanning the room, as the other two talked to Jeralt. 

Jeralt sighed. “Guess I’ll have to leave a little later than planned. Kid, you -”

The blond boy pushed past him - his eyes had locked on Edelgard. She met his gaze, letting the blanket drop, and lifted her chin. A boy. Not dangerous. 

Jeralt tried to grab his arm. Missed. “Hey -!”

Byleth had the knife up. 

The boy ignored them. And now Edelgard could see the shock in his expression. 

He stopped a few feet from the bed. His eyes were huge, his cheeks flushed. 

He spoke one word - one word that chilled her more deeply than the coldest winter day. 

“...El?”

[stefciastark]

“I Don’t Want To Go” ~ Webpril Day 2

A/N:  Here is Part 2 (of probably 3 or 4) of this storyline! Based off of the prompt "I don't want to go", we continue to make our way through the mines, but not everything goes as smoothly as Peter hoped it would. The Sterling Hill Mining Museum is a real place, and although I have taken some creative liberties with it having never been there myself (and needing certain things to work out for plot points), you can check out some pictures of it to help visualise :) I write these daily, so apologies for any errors in spelling, grammar, etc. Life is crazy and hectic, but I just love being able to put these short stories out xx

~Read it on AO3

~Read it on FFN

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------This isn’t so bad.

That’s what Peter had begun telling himself halfway through their tour through the mines. They had first passed through the Zobel Hall Museum that used to be the Change House for the miners, but it was now filled with mineral displays including a really cool periodic table filled with actual samples of each element. Sam was a good guide; his excitable energy reminded Peter of a young Labrador puppy and almost made him forget about where they were. Almost.

Next, they entered the ‘mine’ portion of the tour. It was cool and damp, and Peter was glad May told him to bring a hoodie ‘just in case’. He had pulled it on not long after they began their walk through the tunnels, where he wasn’t sure if it was anxiety or the temperature itself that was turning his insides to ice. His only reassurance was the hard edge of the eyepiece on his suit that his fingers brushed against at the bottom of his backpack. Since Vulture, he’d started packing it regularly on the off-chance that if anything did happen, the Friendly Neighbourhood Spiderman would be there. Sometimes he felt silly and naïve; after all, he was still just a kid from Queens. But he was part of something bigger now, and a grave sense of responsibility sat on his chest during every waking moment.

    The thing about being underground was that the further they went, the thicker the air got until Peter was almost sure there had to be no concentration of oxygen down where they were at all. Of course, if that were the case, they would all be hypoxic by now. Then again, the early symptoms of hypoxia - anxiety, confusion, and restlessness – aptly described Peter on a good day, so who was to say for sure.

They walked through more tunnels in which they could only fit single-file, “I’m sure you’ve all been waiting for this portion of the tour!” Sam led them into a more circular and open area, fluorescent shades of lime green and flaming orange licking up the walls and snaking along the ground. Peter and Ned gaped at the sight before them, almost in sync with the way they spun on the spot, tilted their heads up and down, trying to capture as much beauty behind their irises as they could. “This is the Rainbow Tunnel. Appropriately named for the crazy fluorescent lights these rocks throw, although between you and me, I prefer to call this place ‘The Rave Cave’,” Sam finished melodramatically, eliciting a few chuckles from the class. “Anyways, long story short, shortwave ultraviolet light causes the minerals in the rocks to glow. The green is willemite, which is a minor ore of zinc, and the red is calcite. Now, feel free to have a look around, and we’ll regroup in a couple of minutes before heading lower.”

Peter was still in awe at all the colours surrounding him, and he felt like the rocks should be dancing, all things considered. His anxiety hadn’t plagued him for a little while now, and he was finally beginning to relax. Naturally, that would have been too good to be true.

“It’s like you haven’t seen rocks before.”

Peter started at MJ’s voice, too lost in his thoughts to notice her coming from behind. “Oh my god, MJ,” he breathed, hand clutching at his chest, “don’t sneak up on me like that.”

In response, she only lifted an eyebrow, sending him a questioning glance that asked more than could be said in words. To her credit, she didn’t begin her sleuthing into what had him so tense and nervous, instead opting for a conversation start that made everything oh so much worse in Peter’s brain at that moment. “You know, ironically if an earthquake hit, the roof’d be way more likely to collapse in a room like the one we’re in than if we were in a small passage.”

Sam cut back in before Peter got a chance to ask MJ to elaborate, if not only in the hope that he could prove her wrong and calm the racing that had begun in his heart once more. “Alright, if I could please have everyone checking the straps on their helmets, make sure they’re all secure! We’ll be heading back around now, so please form a line again and follow me out.”

Peter had been frozen in place since he’d heard MJ. The nerves that he had so tightly kept control over had started to fray, and he could feel his pulse rising, his breath quickening, and his knees trembling ever so slightly. Incidentally, because he noticed himself begin to panic, the panic came all faster and all the harder.

Vaguely in the periphery of his mind he noticed that most of the class had filed out of the cave room, and soon himself and Ned would left to take up the rear. That was if he could get his legs to move. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was in public around his classmates (particularly in front of MJ) that he felt he was keeping himself from absolutely losing it right then and there. It was different than any other anxiety attack he had ever experienced. Before, he felt as if he were reliving specific memories and he had the urge to run, to pump his legs like he never had before and just escape; he usually did, with varying levels of success. This time, he was glued in place, his mind racing and imaging scenarios that probably wouldn’t happen, but he was convinced in that moment would happen. It was a level of catastrophising he hadn’t experienced until that moment.

“Hey c’mon man, let’s go, we’re going to be left behind,” Ned said, pulling at Peter’s arm. When Peter’s eyes met his but it looked like he didn’t quite see him, Ned pressed again. “You okay? We gotta go.”

Peter’s eyes shifted to the long and thin tunnel before them that led back to the main lobby. He knew that the only way to freedom and the fresh open air he desperately needed was back through there, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. Onwards it extended, stone deposits shaped like teeth closing around his classmates one by one. He felt more than heard himself say, “I don’t want to go.”

“What do you mean you don’t want to go? We can’t stay, we gotta stick with the guide, remember?” Ned nervously glanced back and forth between Peter and the exit.

It was MJ’s voice that finally cut through the haze in his brain, calling out from the mouth of the tunnel. “Hey losers, aren’t you guys coming?”  

“Y-yeah!” Peter called back, voice quavering slightly.

In that moment, all the anxiety and sickening unease culminated into a crescendo, and then finally at its peak had all the hairs on Peter’s arms attempt to rise straight up through the fabric of his hoodie. It sounded as if a faraway aircraft was passing overhead and was slowly but surely becoming progressively louder and lower in pitch. He felt his stomach drop as he felt the ground beneath him tremble and dip.

Adrenaline flooded his veins rapidly and he grabbed Ned’s arm, yelling at him to “go, go go,” as he pulled them both towards the tunnel. Pieces of stone fell like crumbs all around them, and it was only thanks to Peter’s gifted (or maybe it was cursed in this moment) eyesight that he saw a micro-fissure appearing in the ceiling.

And then that micro-fissure wasn’t so micro anymore.

He managed to yank Ned back from where a portion of the ceiling completely gave way before them, a large cloud of dust invading Peter’s airways and he had to turn his head to cough. Rock fragments snowballing in size were falling with increasing speed from every angle. Every step Peter pulled them towards, they were cut off once again by what were now becoming boulders crashing from above.

There was no way out.

He heard an ominous metallic groan from beside him as one of the large steel support beams bent at the centre before beginning its descent towards them. He decided in that moment that he never wanted to see that look on MJ’s face again. It was one of such profound horror and helplessness that he promised himself if he made it out alive, he would make it his personal mission to make sure she would never have to feel that way again.

Rapidly finding a small clearing he hoped would stay clear, he pushed Ned and threw himself to the ground as the beam above came to a grinding halt in a triangular position along the opposite wall. The roar of the earth beneath him had decreased to a faint rumble, but too soon he let relief flood his heart.

Mother Nature had one last gift to give, and with a resounding clang, an immense boulder slammed itself along the length of the steel, where it proceeded to slide down the wall, carving with it weakened and deteriorated portions of the cave wall.

With little support left, the rest of the cave walls came thundering down. 

[shinylitwick94]

Results of Star Wars reading month!

A while ago I mentioned that I had, first accidentally, then on purpose, turned january into a sort of “Star Wars reading month”, meaning that the only things I read this month were Star Wars books, and I read quite a few of those.

Overall it was a pretty fun experience. The quality of the writing and my enjoyment of the stories definitely varied, but most of these were very easy to read, and relatively short, which is why I managed to read so many in such a short period.

I did have some issues, of course. Sometimes the writing felt very weak, some books have very flat characters and some books suffer from problems with how closely they’re stuck following the stories of the movies.

But overall, I think I liked it and I might pick up some more of these later.

Disclaimer: Obi-Wan is my favorite SW character. So there will be a lot of Obi-Wan in this.

So, here are my thoughts on each of these, in the order that i read them in:

(under the cut because this is looong)

Revenge of the Sith (Novelization), by Matthew Woodring Stover (status:Legends)

After a bit of reflection and reading recommendations online, I decided to start with this one. I think it was a good move. RotS is one of my favorite Star Wars movies and the book does a lot to combat its worst issues. The dialogue sounds more natural, more time is spent on exploring Anakin’s messed up state of mind before he falls, and a few nice scenes are added to give extra context to the actions of certain characters. I didn’t love what it did with Dooku and some of the tools it decides to use (this is... or Anakin’s fear dragon, for instance) become repetitive pretty quickly, but all in all I enjoyed this one a lot. The opening with the republic citizens watching the Chancellor’s kidnapping on the holonet was especially nice and really makes me wish we had more of that in the movies themselves.

4.5/5

Master and Apprentice, by Claudia Gray(status: Canon)

Master and Apprentice follows Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan before the events of the saga, at a moment where their relationship as master and padawan is at a crossroads. The story itsel is fairly simple and not that engaging on its own, but what I like about this one is the time it takes to explore these two characters. It’s pretty solid and I liked it, but I wouldn’t call it a must read.

3.5/5

Lost Stars, by Claudia Gray (status: canon)

I think I enjoyed Claudia Gray’s writing much better in this one than in the previous one. Lost Stars is a bit special, in that it doesn’t follow any main characters. Instead, it follows two original characters in their journey through the galaxy at the time of the OT. It’s part love story, part “let’s see the OT through an outside perspective” and it works pretty well. I quite liked the new characters and their friends and I think they fit in pretty well with the established universe. A few of the main characters have cameos, but really, this isn’t their story. I also appreciated some moments where it calls out a few of the absuridities of the OT, such as Lando leading the attack on death star II and Vader chasing after the falcon so obsessively, both of which look extremely weird from an outside perspective. The only thing I don’t really like is that the story feels really restricted by the OT canon, so you can kind of guess where everything is going after a certain point.

4/5

Kenobi, by John Jackson Miller (status: legends)

Obi-Wan has adventures after arriving on Tattooine when he really, really would rather not get involved. I absolutely loved this one. I liked the writing, I liked Obi-Wan’s character, I liked the new characters (although I had trouble keeping track at first), and I liked the plot. It has a slower start than most of the others here, but it definitely pays off. Without going into too much detail, I particularly appreciated Obi-Wan’s issues with having to let go of the “let’s help everyone” jedi mentality, the exploration of the Tusken raiders, and the fact that it didn’t actually focus on Luke and the Lars’ at all, which I admit I had rather been dreading. 

5/5, and my favorite of the bunch

Darth Plagueis, by James Luceno (status legends)

This one started off really strong, but then fell a little flat by the end. It tells the story of Plagueis’ rise as sith lord, and later his relationship with Palpatine. I enjoyed Plagueis’ character and the writing was pretty solid throughout. all the political machinations were hard to keep track of at first, but after some time and a little help from wookiepedia my brain began to make sense of things. Its strongest moment by far is an event halfway through the book when the two sith lords are attacked by another faction that shows us both their ruthlessness and the fact that they can, in fact, be caught off guard. Plagueis is wonderfully sinister, but Palpatine comes off as even more coldhearted, which is fitting. The one thing I didn’t like, and the reason I felt the ending was a little flat, is that it tries too hard to tie into the Phantom Menace at the end. I think the story would have benefitted from letting Plagueis die earlier and not have its final events tied up in the movie’s plot.

4.5/5, and my second favorite

The Rising Force (Jedi Apprentice #1), by David Wolverton (status:legends)

This one is aimed at kids, and it shows. But because I can never get enough obi-Wan, I decided to read it anyway. It focuses on young Obi-Wan, at risk of not being able to become a jedi knight, and his difficult first meetings with Qui-Gon, and the little adventure they accidentally end up on. As a kids’ book, the writing is easy even by SW standards, and that’s saying something. Like, an 8 year old could probably read this just fine. The story is also pretty simplistic and works on building the foundations for the later development of these characters. It’s the first in a pretty long series, so it doesn’t get that far, but it was fun enough, I guess.

3/5

Heir to the Empire (#1 in Thrawn trilogy), by Timothy Zahn (status: legends)

I had high expectations going into this thing and none of them were met. I’ve read a bit on the side, and I can appreciate how it was an important story for the franchise as a whole, but it really did nothing for me. This is partly, I think, because my expectations were so high in the first place. Everyone seems to think that the Thrawn trilogy is the best thing to ever happen to Star Wars, but from my impressions of this first book it was just...meh. It takes place in the years following the fall of the empire, where the new republic faces threats from the imperial remnants, one of which is lead by Grand Admiral Thrawn. Thrawn as a character is adored by the fandom, and I really don’t get it. He’s dispassionate (pseudo)rational, supposedly very Smart and apparently can predict how people will act because he studies their country’s art (which...stinks of 19th century “scientists” measuring skulls, but whatever let’s pretend this doesn’t bother us). He doesn’t really have any particular outstanding character traits outside of this. What I’m trying to get to, is he’s a bit of a Sue and not very interesting to read about. Then there’s Mara Jade, who is also introduced in this, and who I also didn’t particularly like, but yeah. The story told in this is actually pretty short - the trio is having issues, Luke get’s captured for a while and then there’s a big battle at the end. It’s fine, there’s nothing particularly wrong with it, the writing is ok, and maybe the characters are a little flat sometimes, but overall it’s ok. I just don’t get why people adore this so much. Personally, I’ve no interest in the rest of the trilogy.

3/5

Path of Destruction (#1 in Bane trilogy), by Drew Karpyshyn (status: legends)

This one tells the story of the rise of Darth Bane, he who would establish the rule of two for the Sith. The early parts of this felt quite interesting, and I liked how Bane’s character was different from what we usually get in SW, especially in terms of background. But once the story gets to the sith academy, it just stalls. There’s a lot of back and forth between Bane, the masters and the other apprentices, a lot of musings from Bane on the nature of the dark side, and theoretically all this should work, but at some point during this part of the story I just stopped caring about any of the characters. Maybe it’s because I find the whole dark side philosophy thing quite silly, or maybe I just didn’t find the writing all that engaging, or maybe it was that I already knew what was coming so much of this felt like padding. In any case, it’s a decent enough read, but doesn’t make it past meh for me.

3/5

[overthinkingkdrama]

Exit Review: When The Camellia Blooms

Synopsis

Dong Baek is a single mother running a small bar called "Camellia" in the village of Ongsan. She is pretty, softhearted and smiles easily, but because of her status and her job she is ostracized and mistreated by the people who live there. Since she's had a string of rotten luck and misfortune since childhood, she considers this pretty much par for course. She's never known what it's like to be treasured, but lavishes all of her love on her son.

One day, simple-minded busybody cop, Hwang Yong Shik, moves back to his hometown of Ongsan from Seoul and falls precipitously in love with Dong Baek at first sight. He then proceeds to make a nuisance of himself around her bar, because all he wants to do is spend time with her and protect her from their nosy, judgmental neighbors. At first Dong Baek is confused and annoyed by all the attention Yong Shik's infatuation brings, but as she spends time with him she finds herself increasingly disarmed by this guileless, straightforward young man who seems to adore her without any reservation.

Complications ensue from all sides, but especially when Dong Baek's ex, Kang Jong Ryul --who since their break up has become a famous baseball player and reality star--shows up in town and begins to show an interest in their son's life.

Oh, and also there's a serial killer for some reason.

Review

Story: The plot of When the Camellia Blooms is unfocused at best, at worst it is completely all over the place. But it was clear from very early on that it had no intention of being a tightly plotted and paced narrative but rather a shotgun spray of character pieces about community, humanity and parenthood scattered across the village of Ongsan. As a ensemble piece I think this drama largely succeeds, although there was a good portion of the characters that I didn't care for or could have done with a lot less of. (Jong Ryul and Gyu Tae in particular come to mind.) However, because of the lack of focus at times the show seems to meander with no clear sense of direction.

I know I harp on tone issues in dramas frequently, and if any drama would at face value seem guilty of that sin WTCB seems like a flagrant offender. However, something about how up and down and everywhere the drama was worked for me in terms of tone. Putting the small town gossip circle right next to the violent serial killer plot almost struck me as a stoke of brilliance. At least I felt like we were on the very edge of an epiphany. Because, in many ways, that contrast may have--and I do emphasize may have--been the point. That petty, shallow, silly people with good intentions and maybe not a lot of brains, live right next door to twisted, evil, calculating people. That all of us are kind of in this together, and as Yong Shik rather brilliantly says "we out number you" you being the evil people. While the bad is always with us, there's a silver lining with it, and a certain humor and absurdity to life that we can laugh at together if we have the sense to see it.

Acting: I think it's really the veteran cast that carries this drama. Especially Lee Jung Eun (who plays Dong Baek's mother) manages to do a lot of the emotional heavy lifting for the drama in a way that I appreciated but didn't expect.

For me, the stand out performance in the main cast was Kang Ha Neul as Yong Shik, a character who, in the hands of a lesser actor, might have been too frustrating for me to watch, but he somehow turned into a really appealing and charming male lead even though he wasn't the smartest or smoothest guy around.

I thought Gong Hyo Jin was just fine as Dong Baek, but I couldn't shake the awareness throughout that I was watching Gong Hyo Jin and that on top of that I've seen other dramas in which I liked her better. Gong Hyo Jin isn't really one of those actresses who disappears into a role. Especially in dramas. She seems to essentially play variations on herself. There's nothing particularly wrong with that, but when that's the case then it's even more incumbent on the writing to give us something to hold on to and to love about the character. I felt like WTCB got a lot of mileage out of how likable Gong Hyo Jin is as a person, and didn't necessarily hold up its end writing-wise to earn her previously banked audience good will. But hell, this might just be me.

All this being said, many of the characters are quite cartoonish and over the top. The drama has a distinctly comedic bent, despite some of the heavy subject matter. This is not a collection of subtle, restrained performances.

Production: WTCB nails the small-town homeliness of Ongsan. I think all the sets look great. A little ugly and rundown, cluttered and lived in, but colorful and alive. From the marinated crab restaurants with their giant plaster crabs hanging outside, to the small town police station, to the baseball pitch, and especially in the shabby warehouse interior of Camellia that Dong Baek has done everything in her power to make feel inviting--with questionable success. This drama has a retro-feel without actually being a period piece. It’s something that I tend to really enjoy about dramas that are set outside of Seoul. I think the feel of the production earned the drama a lot of good will from me. 

I liked the way this drama looked and felt to watch overall. Although I could have done without some of the black and white “thriller” sequences that started and ended episodes in the beginning of the run. I thought they just made the tonal shifts between the humor and the crime elements feel even more jarring.

Feels: WTCB is a sentimental, feel-good show that overstays its welcome. I say this a lot, but this drama could have stood to be shorter. I think 16 episodes would have been more than enough to tell the story they were trying to tell and would have spared the audience some of the more repetitive and frustrating character arcs. (Initially I had sympathy for Jong Ryul’s character, for instance, but then he just wouldn’t go away. And every one of his scenes filled me with increasing irritation.) Some character arcs were artfully handled, but because the show frequently didn’t seem to know what kind of story it wanted to tell, the arcs that were weaker really stood out.

All that being said, WTCB handled a few choice emotional beats incredibly well. Without spoiling anything too much there is an episode later in the run that is structured around a certain character’s last interactions with a series of people before a calamity happens. The audience has already been let in on the secret at this point. We know what’s about to happen, and that lends a poignancy and pathos to this character that they didn’t previously have. Suddenly things that would otherwise be trivial seem significant. It’s a really fine example of television writing, and it’s almost worth watching all on its own. (Hopefully this isn’t too vague to be understood.)

At times Dong Baek’s downtrodden damsel shtick gets a little bit much, and it’s hard to tell if it’s being played for humor or if the writer isn’t actually in on the joke. But it’s satisfying when she stands up for herself and goes after what she wants. The handling of the central romance, surprisingly, worked for me even though I was skeptical of Yong Shik in the beginning. I was particularly impressed by the plot line involving Dong Baek’s relationship with her mother. That was the relationship that I think rang truest and that the drama got the most mileage out of. It was also the only one that nearly made me cry at points. WTCB also has a really exultant and life-affirming finale. It wrapped the whole drama up well and ended it on a high note, which lord knows is a hard enough thing to do in dramaland on its own.

Would I recommend When The Camellia Blooms? It would probably depend on the type of drama watcher I was talking to, but I think for the right kind of person WTCB would be just the thing. 7/10

[paunchsalazar]

hey!! bro ur my number #1 source for lupin III content so can I ask like how in the hell I go about watching all the series / movies / etc for it in order??? I’m really pumped for the live action so I wanna at least dip into all the other stuff. thanking ya kindly //tips hat

hello!!! what an honor!! oh my… ok I’m so sorry in advance… I’ve gotten a few similar asks and I started writing out a list and it was getting over 1500 words long so I had to try to chill out…so…

LUPIN III CRASH COURSE

I’m sorry that this is so long.. and consider I cut it down! but here is my intro because I know this franchise is huge and confusing!! (I’ve had multiple instances of friends being like ‘I tried to find that Lupin thing you like but I could only find the third one?’) 

I kind of liken it to Scooby Doo? it stretches some 60 years and has been handled by many different writers, directors, and animators across very different eras? most important to know! the order doesn’t really matter and things aren’t really sequential (save for where the three most recent shows) so you can jump in and explore whatever seems compelling! it’s overwhelming because there is so much but also nice because there’s something for everybody! if you like fun and pure, edgy, etc. etc. 

feel free to disregard everything coming… I will say my personal priority order is

- Castle of Cagliostro

- some episode of part 2

- part IV, ideally all of it! there’s filler but it’s hard to know which ones

- part I (or some episodes of it? up to you!)

- Fuma Conspiracy

- part V 

- part III (it’s great too!! just not as sequential as IV and V)

- First Contact… truly indulgent but its so cute!

(below I broke down a little about each and my favorite episodes, where to find them, etc. and there’s so much more but just doing everything below is a whole lot)

TV (All the shows except for The Woman Called Fujiko Mine are on Crunchyroll!)

Part 1 (1971) - crunchyroll!

The beginnings kind of a weird feeling because the first half was directed with one vision vs. the second half being co-directed by Takahata and Miyazaki, there’s a shift in Lupin’s personality and most significantly they sought to shed his ‘sense of apathy’ and make him more of a hero? something that’s echoed later on! honestly, I don’t think the transition is as dramatic as some people find it? but it does shift across the episodes and end on a sweet note!

truly they all have something to enjoy but I made note of 

episodes 2, 4, 5, 7, 9, 11, 13, 16, 18, 19, 23 

for some reason? really really suggest watching the last episode! but get a bit of the first and second half beforehand!

Part II/Red Jacket (1977-80) - 155 episodes - on crunchyroll dubbed and subbed

there are a lot so I tried to narrow it down to a few of my favorites/ particularly noteworthy ones? I bolded my absolute favorites! I’m sure I missed a few but save for a few two-episode arcs you can jump in anywhere and it’ll be fine.

episodes 1-79 are dubbed on Crunchyroll! In my personal opinion the script makes it worth it!! there are a bunch of non-dubbed episodes anyway if you want to get a feel for both

(these episode titles are often hilarious, misleading, and/or horribly embarrassing?)

1 - ‘The Return of Lupin the Third’ - just a good starting point!

5 - ‘Will the Leaning Tower of Pisa Be Standing?’

6 - ‘Tutankhamen’s 3,000-Year-Old Curse’

7 - ‘Venetian Super Express’ - I want to say this is a cute little road trip episode? it’s been so long

9 - ‘Steal the FIle M123’ - this dub… madness. very strange Christopher Walken impression for absolutely no reason?

10 - ‘Bet on the Monaco Grand Prix’

15 - ‘Crude Reproduction, Perfect Frame’ - Lupin keeps committing strange and uncharacteristic crimes, but he has no memory of doing so!

29 - ‘Fly Me to the Moon’ - Lupin has some mysterious Levitation Technique and everyone is after it 

32 - ‘Lupin the Interred’ A famed hitman is after Lupin!

34 - ‘But Your Brother Was Such A Nice Guy’ - this episode is one of the zaniest ones and that’s saying a lot… Vampires? Jesus? Really really funny moments though especially in the dub

42 - ‘Cruisin’ in Drag’ Lupin infiltrates the ship of a wealthy bachelor disguised as a woman 

45 - ‘Diamonds and Minx’ kind of a mess of people stealing from each other? 

46 - ‘The Island of Dr. Derange’

57 - ‘Alter-Ego Maniac’ - Inspector Zenigata goes criminal

62 - ‘Church of the Poison Mind’ - Jigen and Goemon stumble into a religious cult

69 - ‘Zenigata Getcha Into My Life’ - this title is awful but this episode is great. 

78 - ‘Ice, Robot’ - an inventor has made a machine that can cry diamonds!

79 - ‘Baton Death March’ 

81 - ‘Fujiko, Men are a Sorry Lot!” - Fujiko gets engaged to a Prince, the rest of the gang goes after the monarchy’s Golden Bell

96 - ‘Lupin’s Gourmet World’ tbh this is a vore episode but there are some great gang moments here and a really fun third act

99 - ‘Fighting Jigen’ - first anime episode (I think like in history? but I could’ve misread) in stereo! And I believe the first to air of the TMS staff’s work, you can tell because the style shifts to a more Miyazaki/Cagliostro look and this will keep happening for the rest of the show

101 - ‘Fervent Love at Versailles’ - a crossover episode with Rose of Versailles! 

103 - ‘The Wolf Looked at an Angel’ - Goemon is an angel I can say little else

104 - ‘The Most Dangerous Golden Bed’ - debut of perhaps the best opening! I love this episode?? so much?

112 - ‘Danger! Goemon’ 

122 - ‘An Unusual End to an Expedition for Napoleon’s Treasure’ 

143 - ‘The Miami Bank’ 

145 - ‘Wings of Death: Albatross’ - ah yes, one of the famed Miyazaki-directed episode, truly so worth it

151 - ‘To Arrest Lupin, the Mission at the Highway’ - another not exactly Miyazaki episode but a lot of the people he trained? They depart from the part 2 style(s) again but its a good bit of fun all around! Really lovely character animation

152 - ‘Jigen and the Hatless Pistol’ - Jigen loses his hat and thus his ability to shoot

155 - ‘Thieves Love the Peace/Farewell, Dear Lupin’ - the finale episode! Miyazaki-directed as well, and just beautiful 

Part III (1984) - 50 episodes - crunchyroll!

I’m still very early in this one so I can’t say much yet! But it gets a bad rep? Perhaps for being more inconsistent stylistically and a bit on the zanier end! But I really like it!! these drawings are such a blast! I think each bit has its merits and this one is no exception. Plus with all their freedom animation-wise they can do a lot of fun stuff!

The Woman Called Fujiko Mine (2012) - 13 episodes - on kissanime for certain and I think animetake?

this is the most dramatic departure from the rest of the shows/films/specials. Fujiko Mine is the star of this part! It definitely has less obviously plot-important episodes but it’s one narrative from start to finish. I must note that it’s by far Lupin’s edgiest, I think it’d be safe to deem this part as R-Rated. There’s sex, violence, sexual violence, abuse, bodily mutilation, obsession… a gay character who gets a pretty tragic fate (at first I was excited by the very existence of an LGBT+ character but he really goes through the wringer and never gets a resolution.. I don’t want to spoil). This is probably Lupin at his ickiest? I do like Jigen’s personality here! And his dynamic with Fujiko, but it’s a lot more disjointed than the other parts. She meets each of them separately and towards the end, Lupin and Jigen interact more but there’s barely a time when they’re all together. That’s not meant to be a deterrent but personally, I’m a sucker for their friendship and love them as a group so it’s a bit of a bummer. Sequential plot-wise though! This one is definitely captivating, a bit disturbing, and there is a plot-twist that really got me. The villain design is really cool too!

Part IV (2015) - 26 episodes - on crunchyroll, also dubbed on Funimation

This part is narrative-based and sequential! It still has some more standalone episodes but there’s definitely an overarching story throughout! I think they’re all worth watching and might leave little important bits that’ll be confusing later on. Essentially this part takes place in Italy for the most part and starts with Lupin getting married to a multi-millionaire heiress/model/celebrity who wants to get into the thief business. This one feels like a good combination of old and new, it’s not quite as silly as the earlier parts can be, but it’s full of nostalgia while still feeling original. I really had a good time!

This dub isn’t bad but!! It comes with a different opening and soundtrack, I guess Lupin’s pretty big in Italy and perhaps there were licensing issues? I’m not sure? But it’s a bit of a bummer to be without the Yuji Ohno soundtrack. The alternate opening feels more like a collection of stills and footage found throughout the show? It’s not horrible, just different! Regardless, the Part IV Japanese OP (vs. the Italian/US one) is worth a watch!

Part V (2018, airing on Adult Swim right now, summer 2019!) - 23 episodes 

I’m actually not done with this part but its good fun! more directly tied to part iv then the others are to each other. It’s more sequential as well with a few sub-arcs and since it fell on the franchise’s anniversary it has callback episodes with Lupin in various jackets in various tones. Interesting Lupin characterization here… he seems… sadder, wistful? and we get hints of Lupin lore! Lots of fanservice but… I love it! I still think they could’ve pushed it more? it feels somehow more reserved than part IV in some ways, which is already different from the 70s and 80s, but it’s got a lot of lovely moments!!

Films/TV Specials

From 1989 to 2011 they had a special every year!! So much!

Castle of Cagliostro (1979) - Available on Netflix! 

perhaps the best-known piece of media in the Lupin franchise? And rightly so. This film is Hayao Miyazaki’s directing debut and a blast from start to finish! This characterization of Lupin is definitely Miyazaki’s more than Monkey Punch’s but that seems to be the strange nature of the Lupin franchise! I could really go on forever… please watch it!

The Fuma Conspiracy (1987) - 

perhaps harder to find, but it’s on Kissanime! Goemon is getting married but before the ceremony is over the bride is taken by the Fuma ninja clan and the gang helps him to get her back as well as learn the story of a family heirloom? Really great stuff from everybody! Adorable Zenigata, the fluffiest and most handsome Goemon, cute Jigen, Fujiko, and Lupin interactions, a really really incredible car chase! Even with Cagliostro’s fame, this one has got some serious pizzazz

Episode 0: The First Contact (2002) - on Kissanime as well! 

A journalist asks Jigen how he met Lupin III, this is probably my favorite TV special? And features one of my favorite opening scenes in the whole franchise. The instrumental!! Perhaps each member of the gang at their purest, whatever that means, really great moments between everybody and peak Lupin and Jigen meeting and somehow signing up to be life partners

[amandabe11man]

a VERY LONG post about Hell on Wheels

YEAH i forgot about this post in my drafts... it’s been like a year since i finished the show now and i feel i’ve barfed everything out into this post (that i can think of), so here it goes (you’ll have to shield your eyes after the spoiler warning if you don’t wanna be spoiled btw. i can’t seem to be able to add a read more-link...) :

SO... i finished watching “hell on wheels” at last, pm half a year since i started. it’s funny because i was under the impression that i’d sOMEHOW be able to binge all five seasons within just one month (reason: i wanted to watch it before my free trial on HBO’s website went out). honestly, that wouldn’t have been possible because it was a LOT more emotionally draining than you’d think at first glance... after being gutpunched three times in a row in season 4, any reasonable human would need a little break.

anyway, it feels-- weird. i’ve never been big on following tv-shows so i haven’t been able to relate to that feeling ppl describe once they’ve finished a show they’ve become so attached to, except NOW i can relate. the show’s not groundbreaking, it’s not perfect, but i’ve had a lot of fun. what a ride it’s been...

looking back, i’d say HOW’s biggest weakness is its tendency to forget or ignore certain plot points. i guess that’s not too weird, with such an arsenal of characters, but still, i find that’s what bugged me the most, if anything bugged me at all. for example--

[SPOILERS for those who might wanna watch it after seeing me go on abt it, idk]:

first off, what REALLY grinds my gears is how ezra dutson’s plotline was handled. it was set up perfectly in the beginning; having him escape from the swede (who promised him that, and i quote: “i’ll find you, ezra! i always do”), the original plan was obviously for ezra and the swede to “reunite” some time in the future so that ezra could tell everyone that the swede killed his parents, thus tying up loose ends and giving some closure to that whole arc. some might say this would’ve been too predictable, but i would rather have that predictable storyline than having it just end unceremoniously like it did, with ezra dying ACCIDENTALLY and off-screen by sidney snow’s hand, simply as a way to further bohannon’s pain and set the stage for ruth’s final arc. this might’ve been fine, if the writers had made it so that ezra actually, y’know, TOLD SOMEONE WHY HE’S AN ORPHAN TO BEGIN WITH. but they didn’t even give the viewer that form of closure, instead just deciding to use him as a plot device for the other characters’ increased angst... bohannon and the others were never even made aware of ezra’s last name, and this is all what bugs the everliving SHIT outta me: the only ones who know, or will EVER know, ezra’s full story is the swede and the viewer, tho after season 4′s end, ezra is never mentioned or acknowledged again-- not by bohannon, and not even by the swede. ezra went from convenient character with a PURPOSE to “nameless” orphan forgotten by history. thanks, writers...

then there’s the whole deal with campbell coming to town to reinforce The Law™, which wasn’t a bad arc, mind you-- campbell and his goons were the most infuriating little shits for a while there-- but the thing is; didn’t campbell LIE to his men about the president giving him the position as governor? i might’ve misunderstood it, but i’m PRETTY sure the president didn’t give him THAT much of an upstanding role, but that campbell just went ahead and took that position anyway? if that was indeed the case, then that’s another plot hole, cause nobody finds out about campbell’s possible trickery to become the governor. nobody rats him out, despite literally no one in “his” town liking him all that much, so they’d have no reason to protect his “secret”. (correct me if i’m wrong on this one though. i might be misremembering things)

then there’s the other pretty infuriating issue of bad guys never getting called out for doing bad shit (unless it’s the swede, who gets all the blame, all the time), for example:

major dick bongbendix(???idk he had a silly name like that) is presented VERY MUCH as a bad guy in the beginning. y’know, just casually beheading natives on all his missions and collecting those heads and taking them to the bar like a fucking nutcase-- those little details. he also seemed to believe in racial biology, so yeah, definitely not a good guy. but by the end, he’s been watered down into some quirky guy who’s ALMOST on friendly terms with the main characters. yeah, uh-- seems everyone (writers included) collectively forgot the whole public display of cut-off heads he had going on...

aaron hatch: started off as a guy too proud for his- or his family’s own good when he shot the police officer, BLAMED IT ON HIS FUCKING SON and then just kinda let bohannon hang the kid even though it was pretty obvious hatch was just shifting the blame away from himself. THEN he reappears with some other mormons and causes a full-on shootout in the town (probably getting some people killed, i don’t remember), TAKES EZRA (also a mormon) HOSTAGE SO THAT BOHANNON WILL COME WITH THEM WILLINGLY and passive aggressively forces bohannon to marry his daughter who bohannon knocked up. somewhere along the line, hatch’s bad side is just thrown to the wind, and bohannon at one point describes him as “a good man”. yeah, ABOUT THAT--

sean and mickey mcginnes: unlike the ones mentioned above, these two started out as seemingly decent dudes, but ended up pm as secondary villains in the end. however, like the ones mentioned above, they hardly face any consequences for whatever crap it was they did in boston, OR the fact that they killed and fucking mutilated/dismembered a man in cold blood (a man who WAS gonna kill them, yes, but HE did it because he thought they had killed his friend, which wasn’t a farfetched idea since mickey DID brag about killing the dude even though he didn’t actually do it). sure, they face their OWN demons as time goes on, they get ostracized, and they start losing faith in each other as well, which ends up with mickey killing sean before the latter can confess(?) his/their crimes. so, while sean was spineless and a creep, at least he thought about finally owning up to what he’d done in the end, whereas mickey lives on to keep doing shady shit, killing people, and getting increasingly more corrupt. he does end up pursuing new goals in the end, but it’s obvious he’s not happy about it anymore. that’s-- really all the comeuppance he ever gets, and the only one who knows about his shady businesses are pm just bohannon, durant and eva (also, personal gripe here-- they seemed to not settle for “just” tarring and feathering the swede and publicly humiliating him, but i’m pretty sure i recall mickey telling bohannon they were thinking about having the swede killed too. keep in mind, this was BEFORE the swede truly lost it and started killing people left and right. apparently, being kind of a douche about taxes is bad enough to warrant being tortured and cast out by the entire community... i’m obviously biased here, but still-- the mcginnes bros’ double standards are amazing to behold)

now that i’ve aired some of that out-- here are some highlights, according to me:

unexpected friendships, like that between eva and durant. i’d say the swede finding that stray dog and fawning all over him qualifies into this category too

durant and campbell fighting in the mud before finally coming to an agreement -- just- durant and his competitors being petty as fuck, honestly. it’s hilarious

bohannon trying to get through to elam by reminiscing about their friendship, especially since bohannon isn’t one to show his feelings often OR get sappy -- in fact, EVERY time bohannon loses his stoic facade is a good moment. when he was gonna bury elam and he just broke down completely for the first time since we were introduced to him... that shit had me in tears as well, but man was it a great scene

jimmy two-squaws

every time the swede opens his mouth (yes, even when he’s spouting some lies and bullshit like that)

ruth’s character development. i admit i didn’t like her at all in the beginning, idk something just felt off about her, but man did she ever grow on me. just-- how everyone kinda relied on her eventually, even though she’s only like in her 20′s or something... she still became a pillar of the community. bless ya, ruth :’ı -- also, her essentially adopting ezra was Pure as heck. I Lov it

the fact that this was the 1800′s and the only backlash the (openly) LGBT characters faced for it was pm just “yeah they’re a bit confused maybe but they’re not hurting anyone”. maybe that’s not very realistic but WHO GIVES A SHIT AMIRITE

mr tao just being a sweet old man

chang’s sunglasses, straight out of Django Unchained

mr toole’s complete heel-turn from racist POS to someone who sticks by his word to turn himself around. that shit was impressive coming from him, tbh

bohannon just calmly running into a buffalo by the train tracks

mei posing as a grown man instead of a boy (which is what she looks and sounds like, oml)

another thing i realized is that bohannon is a classic gary stu. there’s just no getting around that fact after seeing him being revered by most everyone he meets, how he’s somehow the only person able to build the railroad(s) fast and efficiently, and even wooing the literal PRESIDENT and becoming close friends with him-- all this despite his Bold and Brash personality. of course, there’s more to bohannon than these gary stu-symptoms, but i felt someone should bring it up, for the lulz

[prepare4trouble]

So I wrote more of that fic where Gabriel blinds Aziraphale

Crowley didn’t like the cane.

It wasn’t the cane itself that he had a problem with. It was, after all, just a cane. A run-of-the-mill white cane of the kind that would be used by any blind person in most of the world. It hadn’t done anything wrong. Its only crime was the fact that Aziraphale needed it.

Because Aziraphale was an angel, after all. That meant that there should be something else that he could do; some other method that he could employ. He could do miracles, after all. And Heaven had effectively washed its hands of him when it had deposited him back in his bookshop, blind and alone. To Crowley’s mind, that meant that the angel was free to perform as many frivolous miracles as he wanted and Gabriel couldn’t say a single thing about it.

But it didn’t matter, because no matter how long and hard he thought about it, and he had dedicated literally weeks to the subject, he couldn’t think of a single thing that would work better than a slender stick that the angel could use to make sure he wasn’t going to walk into things as he navigated the city.

He shouldn’t have to resort to human methods. It wasn’t fair.

Of course, nothing about the situation was fair, and Crowley hated it. But what he hated most of all was how okay Aziraphale pretended to be about the whole thing. Because he wasn’t okay. He was better than he had been, but he wasn’t okay. At least not all of the time.

“Crowley, is something wrong?” Aziraphale asked him.

Crowley swallowed. He turned to look at the Angel, who was sitting next to him on the park bench. He had turned his head in the demon’s direction, and cocked it just slightly to one side as though he was listening very carefully.  He was wearing sunglasses, which wouldn’t be remarkable on anybody else — it was, after all, a sunny day in a park in the centre of London — but on the angel it just looked wrong.

“No,” he said. “What could possibly be wrong?”

Aziraphale didn’t reply. Instead, he turned away, pointing his face in the direction of the sun, and smiled.

Crowley gritted his teeth. He pulled a lump of bread free from the stale loaf he and brought with him, and lobbed it aggressively at the ducks on the pond. He missed his target, and the lump of bread landed on the surface of the water, sending little ripples out in all directions. It was picked up by a passing swan, which looked at him knowingly, as though telling him it had seen what he had tried to do, and then floated gracefully away.

The cane was leaning against the bench. Aziraphale’s right hand touched it just slightly, not holding it, but the outside of his fingers making contact with it so that he didn’t lose track of where it was.

Crowley knew that he was focussing his hate on the wrong thing. That really, he should be focussing all of it on Gabriel, but the Archangel was out of reach, up in Heaven, doing whatever it was that Archangels did when they weren’t torturing fellow angels and inviting demons armed with Hellfire upstairs to…

To do whatever they had done.

Aziraphale had never said much about what had happened when he had been taken by Heaven; he had been reluctant to talk about it. All Crowley had managed to piece together was that Hellfire had been involved, and that meant that demons had been involved, because Hellfire wasn’t easy to come by in Heaven.

He also knew that it wasn’t Aziraphale’s human body that had been injured up there, because he would be able to heal that, and no matter how many miracles Crowley had thrown at the problem, it hadn’t gotten any better.

Which meant that it never would get any better. This was one of those forever problems. The kind you had no choice but to learn how to live with.

The demons in Hell had known exactly what was happening in Heaven too, Crowley was sure of that. There had been several cryptic comments thrown his way in between the punches and kicks. Comments that had only made sense when he had been returned to Earth, bloodied and bruised, and had seen what had been done to his best friend.

Which meant it had been premeditated. Planned and agreed by both Heaven and Hell

One thing Crowley knew for certain was that if he ever so much as caught a whiff of the Archangel Gabriel anywhere inside of the M25, he was going to make him sorry. He was going to make him regret what he had done to Aziraphale, regret daring to return to Earth, and regret ever having existed in the first place.

He wasn’t sure exactly how he was going to do that, but he had a feeling that it was going to involve physical violence.

“Crowley, they’re hungry!” Aziraphale admonished him. Crowley realised that since he had tossed the lump of bread, they appeared to have attracted the attention of every bird in the park. Without him noticing, they found themselves surrounded by ducks, swans, moorhens, and pigeons, all of them quacking, cooing, and tweeting their frustration at an angel and a demon on a park bench, holding a loaf of bread and selfishly not sharing with them.

Aziraphale shook his head and reached for the paper bag that Crowley was holding on his knee. He missed, and his fingers brushed against Crowley’s own.  “Oops,” he said with a small smile.

Crowley moved the bag, turning it so that the opening was right in front of Aziraphale’s hand, in just the right place for him to reach inside. The angel frowned when he moved his hand and found the bag not to be where he had expected it, but reached inside and tore off a large lump of the stale bread anyway. He began to break it into smaller chunks and throw them to the waiting birds.

He had come a long way since they had been returned to Earth. Not physically; neither one of them had left London since the night he had been deposited into the bookshop in the middle of the night and left to fret there by himself for hours until Hell had finally released Crowley too.

But to think of him then, compared to now, the difference was remarkable.

“Any ducklings yet?” Aziraphale asked.

Crowley scoured the sea of avian life before them, but couldn't see a single baby among them. He shook his head. “Still too early, probably.”

“Maybe in a couple of weeks.”

His own injuries were mostly healed now. It still hurt when he changed into his snake form, and he wondered whether perhaps it always would, but he had never done that with any regularity anyway. He much preferred the shape he was in now.  His human body had healed with no trace of the injuries that had been inflicted upon him in Hell. One of the perks of being best friends with an angel, he supposed. An angel that had been willing to put his own terror aside to help a friend, if only he would be so kind as to describe exactly what parts of him had been injured and what was needed in order to put it right.

More than willing in fact. Aziraphale had insisted upon it the moment he had realised that Crowley had been hurt. He supposed it had been easier to fix something that he could fix, than to think about something that he had already known that he could not.

Because Aziraphale had been insistent from the very beginning that there was no point in Crowley trying to heal him. Crowley had tried anyway, of course. Repeatedly and to the point of exhaustion, but in the end the angel had been right.

As he usually was.

Crowley considered himself lucky. If Hell had been willing to provide Heaven with hellfire, they would have been completely within their rights to request holy water in exchange. You could do a lot of damage with holy water, as he had proven with Ligur, in his own apartment. That the demons had chosen to gloat, and to punch, kick and scratch instead of burn was some kind of a miracle in and of itself.

It would have been entirely possible, he was sure, for them to use holy water on him in the same way that Heaven had used hellfire.

The cowards probably hadn’t wanted the stuff in Hell though, understandably. And that was something for which Crowley was very grateful, because he knew for a fact that if their positions were reversed — or worse, duplicated — he wouldn’t be doing nearly such a good job of pretending to be okay as the angel.

“You know I’d swap places with you, don’t you?” he said. “In a heartbeat, if it was possible. I wouldn’t even hesitate.”

Aziraphale turned to face him, and Crowley saw his own reflection in the angel’s sunglasses.  “Don’t be silly, Crowley,” he said. He gave him a small smile, but with the glasses covering his expressive eyes, Crowley couldn’t gauge whether it was genuine or not.

“I wasn’t!” Crowley insisted. “I’m a demon; I don’t do ‘silly’.” Although he supposed the promise must have sounded empty; it was easy to say something like that knowing that it was impossible to actually follow through.

Anyway, even if it were possible, it would have to be on the proviso that Aziraphale learned to drive, because there was no way in Heaven that he would be willing to use the Tube to get around. It reminded him far too much of Hell down there, and he was sure it would be much worse in the dark.

He supposed most things were.

He tore off another lump of bread and threw it overarm into the duckpond. It hit a mallard on his back before bouncing off into the water. The creature turned to look at him with a glare of disapproval. Or maybe he was imagining it because he missed seeing that kind of thing from Aziraphale, who was happily throwing crumbs to the birds surrounding him with no idea that Crowley was aiming for the head.

He thought about telling him, but it wouldn't be the same at all.

Aziraphale frowned again. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Uh… nothing,” Crowley lied.

Aziraphale nodded in a way that said ‘I don’t believe you but I’m not sure enough to call you on it’, and went back to throwing crumbs to the pigeons.

Crowley went back to plotting the revenge he was going to take on Gabriel.

When he had first been returned to Earth, inexplicably burrowing up into his first floor flat despite not having seen his downstairs neighbours en route, the first thing he had done was rush downstairs and make his way to Aziraphale.

Although, ‘rush’ might be exaggerating a bit. What he had actually done was limped, crawled a little, winced and cursed his way into the lift, fallen out into the street, and taken at least five minutes to coax his protesting body into the driver’s seat of the Bentley. He had gotten blood on the upholstery, and Freddie Mercury had sung “These Are The Days Of Our Lives’ in such a way that Crowley had been certain that those days really were all gone now.

When he had found Aziraphale, sitting on a chair looking completely unharmed, he had been almost annoyed. Annoyance had quickly turned to relief, that his best friend was alive, unscathed, and still an angel, and then to horror when he had realised why he hadn’t bothered to turn the lights on.

He had been sitting so very still on the chair, facing forward, eyes open wide but looking at nothing. He had worn a tight expression on his face, as though he was terrified, and trying so very hard to be okay, but he didn’t know how. And he had been so relieved when he had realised that Crowley was there.

But there had been nothing that Crowley could do to make it better.

A fresh burst of anger and hate blossomed in his chest as tears prickled at the corners of this eyes. He blinked them away and took a slow, deep breath. He couldn’t do this here. Not in front of Aziraphale.

Aziraphale’s hand touched his again, deliberately this time, his fingers intertwining with Crowley’s, carefully at first, as though he didn’t know whether Crowley would allow it, and then with more confidence when he didn’t pull away.  They sat, hand in hand, an angel and a demon. One watching the ducks fighting over scraps of bread on the ground, the other listening to them, feeling the sunlight on his face and the heat of another hand in his.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Aziraphale told him in a voice so quiet that it was almost a whisper. “I’m okay.”

And he really was, sometimes. But at other times it was clear that he wasn’t, not at all, and neither was Crowley.

With his free hand, he tossed the last of the bread, throwing it to — rather than at — the ducks this time, then turned to Aziraphale. “Ready to go?”

“Not yet,” the angel told him. He squeezed his hand a little tighter, like a quick hug, before he let go. “You go ahead, if you’re ready. I’m going to stay here a little longer.”

Crowley hesitated. He knew that Aziraphale was more than capable of making the 20 minute or so walk back to Soho on his own. He had gotten to the park by himself, after all. Besides, Crowley had watched him do it more than a few times, tailing him the other side of the street, keeping out of sight even though he knew the angel could not see him, simply because watching him from in plain view had felt worse.

He also knew that if he did get into any difficulty, he was more than capable of getting himself out of it again, and he didn’t need a demon in shining armour to come to his rescue. It still made Crowley nervous to think of him making the walk alone.  It was something that he was going to have to get used to, he supposed. Forever was a very long time, and he couldn’t possibly be there every minute of every day in case Aziraphale needed help crossing the street.

But he wasn’t ready to go home yet; that wasn’t why he had been asking.

He reached into the bag of bread and pulled out another half a loaf that hadn’t been there before. he broke it in half and placed that larger piece into the angel’s hand. “Nah,” he said. “We’ve still got all this. Anyway, I was going to see if I could tempt you to lunch.”

Aziraphale’s fingers closed around the bread, and he smiled. He broke off a small piece and tossed it to the birds. Their numbers had thinned out when they had realised the food was all gone, but a single morsel of dry bread hitting the ground was enough to bring them flocking back.

“Lunch would be lovely,” Aziraphale told him. “The Ritz?”

“Where else?” Crowley asked, and threw a lump of bread to the duck that he had hit earlier, by way of an apology.

[artificialqueens]

Échappé / Chapter 9 (Branjie) - DenDenMonMon

A/N: So we only have this and another chapter left before the story is over. This was supposed to be some sort of joke. My friend of like ten years, better known as svpermodel, kept going on and on about this “Branjie movie” she wanted to see, I pieced her tweets together and offered to make it a fanfic instead. I knew very little about the pairing and secretly plotted to slowly turned it into a Trixya fic (which I kinda did lol), but never thought I would fall in love with these characters so hard. Needless to say, I had a total of four hundred and twenty seven breakdowns trying to figure out how to wrap things up, even when we had the outline done right from the start. It was so difficult for me to reach the end because… I didn’t want it to end. But enough of my rambling, thank you so, so much for reading and for taking the time to comment. It means the world to me.

As always you can find me as DenDenMonMon on here, twitter and ao3. -Monkey

AO3 Link

Chapter 9

It hardly ever rained in LA, except when something shitty needed to happen, then the sky seemed to be falling down in pieces. It was like a movie. When the climax was approaching, when the guy was dumped, when the girl lost her job, rain was always used to set a depressing mood. The drops carried instrumental music with them, intensifying notes that would lead the viewer to a tragic ending.

Vanessa liked the rain, she liked it a lot. She had come to enjoy it, to long for it.

Although, when it did rain, people didn’t know what to do. The city itself didn’t know how to react. The permanent state of sunshine made Angelinos forget that, every once in a while, the water cycle would make the clouds release countless gallons of rain. Yet, nobody was prepared for that one day of the year when the streets flooded and the canals overflowed, street posts fell down and the power went out. Nobody knew what to do with themselves when the TV signal became erratic, and billboards were ripped from their frames. There were car accidents, because one forgot how to drive when water fell from the sky, and currents dragged all the garbage left on the sidewalks.

Thankfully, it hardly ever rained in LA.

Goosebumps appeared on her arms as Vanessa exited the church. Every piece of uncovered skin complained at the sudden change of temperature. The cold wind, charged with tiny ice molecules, played with the skirt of her black dress. It was probably too short for the occasion, but nobody would have expected her to wear anything else. The heat of her body, as it encountered the cool air, made her cheeks blush; the cold wind bit the delicate skin of her face. She pressed the girl closer to her side as they walked down the stairs. Vanessa did have half a mind to put something with a little more coverage on Elena that morning.

The sound of her high heels, mixing with the droplets hitting the ground, made everything feel even more dramatic for Vanessa. The only thing missing was a thunder slapping across the sky right that instant, to complete the horrific cinematic scene. Thing that didn’t happen.

People rushed by them, waving with one hand as the other held umbrellas, or any piece of available paper, over their heads. Promises were shouted at them, to meet in a few minutes. Neither Vanessa or Elena felt like rushing their steps. Their faces were more or less covered by the big hats and the thin veils, which shielded them from the rain – and the social responsibility to be polite. They strolled across the long parking lot, allowing their bodies to get wet and clothes to stick to their skin. After all, it hardly ever rained around there.

There was a bench at the back of the church. Its color had faded; the hard California sun had slowly but surely eaten the deep brown that covered the contraption, leaving rusty tubes of metal in full display. Even though old and colorless, the bench still served its purpose. They sat on it, water that had gathered on the seat trespassed the fabric of their dresses and reached their legs. Vanessa gladly took the reminder that she could still feel something, even if it was just the rain.

She took a moment to evaluate her life, because it was the only logical thing to do as she sat in the rain at the back of a church.

Vanessa had always thought her life was the hardest. There were some problems placed in front of her that surely nobody else could take. She was a champ for making it through so much heartache and hardship. On some days she felt invincible, she yelled at life, or God, or destiny, to bring on the next challenge. She could take it. On other days, she felt like she deserved a break. Knowing that she could overcome whatever obstacle was placed in front of her, didn’t mean that she wanted to keep on doing so.

Life had been testing her for a bit too long, it was time for her to have some rest. She thought she had found that pocket of time and space where the universe had secluded her from all harm. That was when Brooke had been thrown into the mix. Of course, Vanessa couldn’t possibly break down the most important moments of her life without thinking about Brooke. It didn’t matter if their paths had crossed only a few weeks ago, Vanessa was sure that they had been meant to find each other since the beginning of times. The girl walked into Vanessa’s life and flipped it upside down. She had never lost the ground like that. Regardless of the many emotional hurricanes she had faced, Vanessa had never felt so lost, and confused, and twisted in her entire life. It had been beautiful; nerve wracking, but beautiful. Just when she was ready to open up her heart, to let someone else in and help her carry the weight, everything came crashing down. Bad things just kept coming, one after the other.

With each battle, Vanessa knew she had the option to either let the pain make her bitter or stronger. The line separating those two was sometimes hard to see, with a tendency to change positions with every situation. The line was wiggly, drawn with chalk that threatened to disappear with the rain currents; it was volatile. She prided herself in always choosing to be grateful. At least her life wasn’t as hard as the girl’s who clung to her arm right that instant. The same girl that had to look away as the casket of her mom was placed inside the hearse.

Ben parked right behind it, and Vanessa pulled Elena by the arm to get up. The driver rushed to them with an umbrella, ready to shelter them from the merciless drops, but Vanessa shook her hand in front of herself. It was pointless, they were soaked already. Silently, Ben nodded his head, walked the short distance he had moved from the car and opened the door to help Elena in. Vanessa, jumped in the passenger seat, as it had become her tradition. Ben didn’t stop her, he never did. He settled behind the wheel and turned the car back on.

They followed the procession in silence.

Elena looked out the window with a heavy heart, her eyes were red and puffy from all the crying. Vanessa bit the loose skin of her cuticles; she tried to count the times the windshield wipers passed in front of her eyes. Anything that could distract her from the intense pain hovering above them.

“Thank you,” she whispered after a few minutes. “You really didn’t have to do this. You know I can’t pay you, right?”

With a soft smile, Ben’s stare found hers for the first time. The cars in front of them moved extremely slow. “You don’t have to, dear. I’m happy to do this, to help a friend.”

A huff escaped Vanessa involuntarily. “Don’t even mention that hoe.”

It was easier to stay angry, to be mad at the person who supposedly didn’t help; because anger was a lot easier to deal with than sadness. Vanessa couldn’t admit, not even to herself, that she had left a part of her in that condo, that every step she took away from that metal door felt heavier than the last. If she told herself how much she didn’t want to see a certain person, it prevented her from missing them.

Ben chuckled softly. “I mean you, you silly head. I’m doing this for you, and for her.” He craned his neck to look through the rearview mirror, spotting the girl drawing hearts on the tarnished window. “How is she doing?”

“Not well. It’s not like her mother was very present, but at least she had her mom, you know?”

Even when he didn’t know, even when he had never gone through an experience like that, Ben nodded. “I can’t imagine what she must be feeling; but, hey, at least she’s got you, huh?”

“Damn right!” With a heavy sigh she tried, unsuccessfully, to spot the girl through the side mirror. “She will always have me.”

Vanessa was set to keep her promise, she didn’t leave Elena’s side that day. They held each other as the casket descended, and together threw the first handful of dirt. They didn’t let go as they greeted people into Elena’s home. In a very Hispanic tradition, the whole neighborhood got together to say their final goodbye to a woman they didn’t like, showed up at the place of someone they constantly talked about behind her back. With a forced smile on her face, Elena accepted hugs, directed pots and pans wrapped with aluminum foil to the kitchen and jackets to her bedroom.

Soon, the small apartment was crowded with chatty ladies and running kids. Vanessa talked to some of the older women, discussing recipes she had never tried to cook, not even pretending she knew what they were talking about. She kept an eye on Elena, talking to her dance friends, putting a front, appearing much stronger than what she was truly feeling. Soon, Vanessa had enough and asked the ladies to excuse her so she could check on the girl.

“How you feeling, baby?”

Elena pressed her lips into a thin line, and shrugged her shoulders, not really wanting to give an answer. Silence enveloped them for a minute, until the other girls understood they needed privacy. Between whispers and made up excuses, they got up and left them alone.

Vanessa took one of the now empty seats next to the girl. “Aight. I get it. I’m done talking with those clucking hens over there, too.” She pushed her chin in the direction of the women she had been talking to. Her comment didn’t get the laughter she was expecting in response. Honestly, she didn’t even know what she was expecting, she had no idea how to act in that situation. But she did know Elena, and she knew that she needed to figure out things on her own. Vanessa wanted to be there, but, at the same time, give her enough space to breath. It was complicated, to say the least. “Fine. We don’t have to talk.” Her stare travelled around, her fingers tapped her own knee, unsure of what to do with herself. They both sat in silence, watching people eat, and talk, and laugh, because that was the norm in Hispanic households.

Suddenly, there was a tap on Vanessa’s shoulder. “Vanjie, can I talk to you?” Michelle’s steady voice saved her from the awkward moment.

“Bitch, yes!” Vanessa replied a little too quick, thankful for the distraction. Catching herself, she sat straight, placing a hand on Elena’s shoulder. “Will you be okay for a minute?” The girl simply nodded her head, still in her absentminded state. Vanessa leaned towards her and kissed her temple, before getting up and following Michelle to a different room.

Michelle pushed the many coats out of the way and sat on Elena’s bed. The floral print, in soft pinks and purples, was a big contrast against the all-black outfit that Michelle was wearing. An aura of solemnity surrounded her as she looked across the small space but, truthfully, Vanessa couldn’t think of a time when Michelle looked anything but regal. Vanessa admired her, in every sense of her being. Michelle always knew what to say, what to do; her mind always worked out the perfect plan for whatever situation she encountered. The way she carried herself through life, with such confidence and certainty, was something Vanessa always wished she could do herself.

This time around, Michelle looked, if possible, even more majestic than ever. She straightened her back, her large breasts in clear view thanks to the deep cleavage. “I have good and bad news,” she spoke in the same ceremonious way that she had been acting all day. “Which one do you want first?”

The question startled Vanessa, she didn’t expect having to make any decisions during the conversation. “The bad, always the bad. Then we cover the wound with the good.” She nodded her head approvingly, agreeing with her own words.

For a split second, Michelle casted her eyes down. She tangled her fingers in her lap and sighed. The facade fell for a single beat of silence before she lifted her head and looked straight into Vanessa’s eyes. “We lost the center.” The words came out in a single exhale, in a monotonous whisper that barely registered in Vanessa’s head.

She heard it. Every single syllable of that message entered Vanessa’s ears. It was her brain the one that couldn’t comprehend the meaning behind the words. She could feel them bouncing inside her skull, crashing with every wall and resounding with each hit. The sentence had been simple, one would think four words, strung in such a logical order, would be easy to understand, even for her bilingual brain. Yet, each hop and jump the letters performed through the wiring of her head, made it impossible for Vanessa to let them land in a spot of comprehension.

“Vanjie,” Michelle snapped her fingers in front of her, landing her back into reality, forcing the cogs inside her mind to kick back into gear.

“Wha-what you mean we lost the center? That can’t be true. It ain’t happening. We got the money, we did. Exactly what they asked for. They just needed to finish off the paperwork. That skinny bitch told me the lawyers would take care of everything, she told me that…” Words spilled out without her permission, she didn’t even know what she was saying anymore. She went on and on and on, until she lost track of her own thoughts and simply let her mouth run, hoping Michelle would stop her. She didn’t. Michelle didn’t scream at her to shut up, to get a grip and get it together. Michelle allow her to let it all out. Vanessa only stopped once tears ran down so rapidly that words could no longer catch up. “What-what are gonna do? What can we do to save it?”

“Nothing.” It was clear, there was nothing complicated about Michelle’s statement. They had lost, and there was absolutely nothing they could do about it.

“What happened? Did they at least give you a reason?” Vanessa asked once she recovered a grip of the situation.

Michelle shrugged slightly. “Someone offered them more money.”

“Nah, child, they can’t do that. Can they do that? She said it was ours, the lawyers just needed to finish the paperwork.” She was repeating herself, Vanessa knew it, but maybe if she said it a lot, it would become a reality.

There was no response from Michelle. She sat there, watching Vanessa pace back and forth inside the small room, giving her the time to absorb all the information she had received.

“Can we, like, sue them?” A head shake answered her question. “Is there a way we can get more money? We still have, like, two more weeks, right? We can have another ball.”

Michelle lifted her hand, figuratively stopping Vanessa from continuing. “There’s nothing we can do. Trust me, I have tried every possibility, exhausted every chance from every angle. It’s gone. Actually, that’s where the good news comes from.”

Vanessa’s mouth fell open in surprise. “What you mean good news?! What kind of fucked up news could come out of this mess?”

“Vanjie, I need you to really listen to me. Before you say anything, I need you to pay attention to what I have to say.” There was a moment of silence. The two women simply looked at each other, connecting in a paralinguistic level that was so unequivocally theirs. “I spoke to the girls,” Michelle continued. “We want you to keep the money–”

“Bitch, you wildin’! What makes you–”

“I asked you to listen to me, Vanessa.” The name was what got her. Michelle rarely called her that, unless things turned serious. Vanessa sat down next to Michelle, opening her mind, heart, and ears, for what Michelle had to say. “Elena is going to need someone to look after her, help her with her homework, love her like she deserves. Fight for that girl, take her out of the abusive environment she’s fallen into and give her a home.”

Vanessa shook her head. She had thought about that. Now that Elena’s mom was gone, the most obvious option was the grandmother. It didn’t matter how big of an asshole she was, that cranky old lady was still Elena’s only family. Any judge with half a mind would allow the girl to go with her. Nobody really knew how she was constantly putting Elena down, minimizing her abilities, reducing her to nothing more than the daughter of a drug addict, destined to follow the same footsteps. Nothing the girl did was enough to her eyes. As far as Vanessa knew, the abuela never attacked Elena physically, she wouldn’t have the strength to; but her acid tongue knew how to cut right where it hurt, causing a lot more damage that any tangible wound. Vanessa had thought about getting a lawyer and trying to get custody of the girl. Her chances were slim to none. Not to mention she didn’t have a dime under her name, she wouldn’t be able to support the two of them. Hell, she wouldn’t have been able to afford the lawyer to start with.

“Do you really think the court would let her live with a stripper?” There was a huff coming from Vanessa’s lips, highlighting the absurdity of it all. “Who, on top of that, lives in a shoe box apartment with two other hoes?”

“No.” Michelle was not playing around, she was not entertaining Vanessa’s sarcasm. “That’s why you need to do some changes first. Use the money to get a good lawyer,” Michelle suggested, practically reading Vanessa’s mind. “Get out of that small place and find something better. I talked to some people at this complex, they have amazing student discounts.”

“But I’m not a student,” Vanessa reminded her.

“You are going to. There’s no way you will get a job unless you get your act together. That starts with finishing high school. I can help you look for night schools, or maybe online courses.”

All of that sounded like too much work, Vanessa’s mind was already rejecting the idea as a whole. She didn’t want to get her act together, she was doing perfectly fine as she was. Instead of spitting back all the reasons why she didn’t want to follow Michelle’s plan, she allowed herself to really think about it. Among all those excuses, there was one thing, bigger than any pointless pretext, that would make it all worth it. Just then, the only motivation that she needed to be better, walked into the room.

“Can I hide with you guys for a minute?”

Michelle smiled widely, patting the space between her and Vanessa. “Of course, kiddo. Come chat with us.”

Elena obeyed. She sat down on the bed and rested her head on Vanessa’s shoulder. Vanessa knew there was absolutely nothing she needed to think about. The decision had made itself right then and there. If it meant having that beautiful angel permanently by her side, she was going to change, she was going to be better. She was going to do it for Elena.

And she did.

The following two weeks came and went in the blink of an eye. Vanessa contacted a lawyer that Michelle recommended and, just like she had suggested, Vanessa found a much bigger apartment in a nicer area. The next step was finding a job that the family judge would find decent. She started waiting tables at a Mexican restaurant that paid shit, but had good tips. Her personality helped her a great deal in that area. She knew when to smile, when to flirt, and when to make the customer believe the side of tortillas was on her. Stripping was left behind, and she was surprisingly okay with that. It gave her a certain sense of peace to think that the last time she did it had been for Brooke.

During the whole process of rearranging her life, Brooke had always been a latent thought. Not exactly there, but never leaving her mind completely. Brooke had been right, Vanessa was meant to do so much better, to achieve greater things. Vanessa didn’t know why she had been so closed to the idea, why she had felt attacked instead of empowered. Her stubbornness, mixed with her unwavering pride, was a dangerous combination that forced her to push such an amazing person away.

She had tried, Vanessa had messaged Brooke. One simple text was sent with a waving hand emoji. In her mind, Vanessa planned a whole conversation as soon as Brooke texted back. She never did; and double texting was never part of Vanessa’s brand. That was when she put Brooke on the back burner and concentrated on Elena, and Elena alone, becoming almost oblivious to the passing of time.

Before she knew it, she was standing behind a yellow ribbon, waiting next to the most important people in her life, for their dreams to be shattered. The hot California sun shone above their heads, Vanessa placed a hand to shield her eyes from the brightness as she tried to look up. The large wrecking ball hung from the tall crane. It looked… powerful, she decided after a moment. It looked heavy, and extremely capable of destruction as it swung dangerously close to her beloved building. Workers walked around the area, shouting instructions to each other, and writing things down on clipboards. Vanessa watched them, with their big boots and yellow helmets, as they pronounce the time of death of the community center.

Trixie, stood next to her, chewing a piece of gum rather loudly. “Why don’t you say something? A few, like, encouraging words?”

Vanessa looked down at her feet. “There’s really nothing I can say.” Even when her statement had been negative, her eyes travelled among the people she loved the most. “There really are not enough words, in English or Spanish, to explain how devastating this is. It is something that you just… feel. We are all feeling the same thing, I think, and it fucking hurts.” Her voice broke a little; hot tears gathering at the corner of her eye. “I just… I really don’t know what to say.”

“Can I give it a try?”

All eyes were directed to the shadow walking their way. Vanessa turned around and that was when she saw her. The long blonde waves had been chopped, now straight hair framed her face, curling slightly around her chin. She looked different, but it was her. She wore a white button down shirt, a black pencil skirt, and the usual high heels. Same that resounded against the payment, just like they did all those weeks ago, when Vanessa met her for the first time.

Brooke waved at them from the other side of the yellow line. A small smile played on her lips, but she bit her lower lip to prevent it. She was happy to see them all again, she was happy thinking about all the good things that were about to come, but the emotion in the moment represented a complete contrast to her happiness.

“What is your ass doing here?” Vanessa asked defensively.

Brooke had expected nothing else. She sighed deeply before she looked straight into Vanessa’s eyes. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t contact you in the last couple of weeks. I couldn’t trust myself to keep my mouth shut. There was so much work that needed to be done before I could talk to you. There’s something that I need to tell you.” She lifted her head to address everybody that gathered in the park that afternoon. “Two months ago I was stuck in traffic and saw a group of girls dancing. It was like nothing I had seen before. They looked so happy, so genuinely happy just moving to the rhythm, with steps dictated by their hearts. I saw myself in them, the old me, the one that danced freely without a care. I just needed to talk to them. I wanted them to restore my love for dance. So I ran down from the car and approached them… then I met you,” she spoke directly to Vanessa. “You asked me if I was here to kidnap your kids and sell them in the black market.” There was a round of tearful laughter to her words. Brooke chuckled herself and took a risk, she extended her arms and held Vanessa’s hands in hers. “You love this place. You love it so much that you made me fall in love with it in an instant. I know how hard you have fought for it, how hard you worked to keep it from being demolished.”

“Yeah, well, here we are.” Vanessa tried to look away, to fixate her eyes on anything that wasn’t Brooke’s perfectly applied makeup.

“Yes,” Brooke agreed. “Here we are. About to start a new era. This building is going to be brought down just so it can be reborn as something bigger and better.”

Confused faces stared back at her, unable to follow her train of thought. Brooke chuckled once again and, still holding Vanessa’s hands, she directed her words to the crowd in front of her.

“This is your community center, the one you filled with love, and laughter, and music. You will still have the chance to do all of that, only that I have now decided to call it: The Dream Girls Youth Center.”

“You-you bought it?” Vanessa asked shocked.

Brooke simply nodded. “Yes, I did, but it’s not mine. It’s yours, it’s for the community. The only thing is that I have no idea how this works, I’m going to need someone to help me run it.”

In a quick move, Vanessa made her let go of her hands. “Bitch, the fuck you are talking about?”

Exasperated, Yvie slapped Vanessa’s arm. “She’s talking about you, you dumbass. She bought the center, is going to rebuild it, and wants you to run it. Am I right?”

Piece by piece the information was suddenly making sense in Vanessa’s head. The more she understood, the more she freaked out. “Is that true?”

A nod from Brooke answered her question.

“We get to keep the center?”

One more nod.

“And you want me to run it?”

Brooke finally allowed the smile to take over her whole face. “I could never do this without you, Vanessa. I’m going to need you by my side as we bring it back to life.”

Vanessa was physically taken aback by those words, she literally took a step away from Brooke as she digested the new information. They looked into each other’s eyes, feeling how their souls reconnected, making up for all the lost time. In that moment everybody but them disappeared, there was nothing around them but light. Emptiness surrounded them as their hearts synchronized yet again to beat at the same rhythm.

“By your side? Does this mean you are staying?”

Once again, a nod functioned as response. “If you want me to, that is.” Brooke moved as close to her as the yellow ribbon allowed her. She extended her arms, literally, figuratively, and even spiritually, baring herself to Vanessa. “What do you say?”

It took maybe a second for Vanessa’s brain to connect with her mouth, but it felt like an eternity before she could pronounce the words dying to leave her lips.

“Yes, bitch! Yes! A million times yes!”

She jumped straight into Brooke’s open arms. She wrapped her legs around Brooke’s hips and her arms around her neck. The caution band forgotten, crumpling between their stomachs. It became the least important thing once their lips met. They kissed with the passion they had built up, not only since the last time they saw each other, but with a yearning that came from a lifetime of being apart. They kissed slowly and deeply, letting go of all restraints and inhibitions. They kissed with full abandon, as two people in love that had finally found the person that complemented them.