#wanting to live up to a legacy and has done something that’s never happened before?

[neteyammeowmeow]

PLEASE is anyone going to hear me out on this au

(all platonic btw)

[hydrobunny]

i remember it all too well

tags: angst, post breakup, flashbacks, journalist reader, angst angst angst, it's all too well come on now

a/n: happy belated birthday sae itoshi

your world pauses the day sae itoshi is spotted with a new girlfriend.

the photos are blurry, paparazzi shots taken from at least one building over. it doesn't matter. you would know the curve of his arm around a waist in a thousand different lives.

you have to admit she fits him. even as your hands shake, you can't deny that they look happy- something the two of you weren’t so good at.

it doesn’t stop you from harboring too-many amounts of memories all the same.

you met him before he had joined the world of the superstars, but after he had already been something greater. (you think that if you had met him before everything, you two would’ve fared better.)

by the time you two had locked eyes, he was already changed. something inside of him had shifted, turning away from everyday life and facing immortal legacies instead. you had falsely believed you held a place in it.

you should’ve known better, right from the very first words he spoke to you.

“you’re not supposed to be here.”

you pause, looking up from your phone to face the voice.

cold eyes glare down at you, beautiful in color. the boy - because he can only be around your age, barely leaving the teenage years at most - they belong to is just as annoyingly beautiful. you think you should recognize him.

“excuse me?” you ask, offense rising. “i know where i’m supposed to be.”

his eyes only narrow. “is this another shitty tactic? i said i was done with interviews.”

“good for you, dude.” you roll your eyes, pushing past his shoulder. “why anyone would ever want to interview you, i have no idea.”

as you leave, you can feel his gaze on your back.

you blink, shaking yourself out of whatever that was. it's not good to linger on the past. (your therapist had told you that.)

still, she has also told you that one couldn't grow without recognizing what exactly they had to grow from.

perhaps that's why you find yourself rummaging in your bedside drawer for a deeply buried box, the ends of your fingers numb.

when you open it, you’re met with nothing but a handful of flimsy keepsakes. from fraying bracelets to notes to polaroids. all of them are snapshots of a relationship no longer yours, artifacts of what used to be your heart.

in each flashback, sae itoshi lingers.

the next time you met him, you had learned that he was supposedly a household name. (never in your household, though.)

the great hope of japan’s future -despite what he himself had to say about the country.

you’re a little embarrassed by what happened. still, you refuse to take all the blame.

“sae itoshi,” you blurt out. “you’re here.”

those stunning eyes flicker to you, and he actually pauses. recognition actually stops him.

“you’re the one who was lost,” he says, mildly. “not pretending to not know me this time?

you flush. “in my defense, i didn’t know you. i don't do the sports section.”

he raises an eyebrow. “then why am i still seeing you?”

before you can respond, your boss comes rushing through the hallway, sweat beading on his brow.

“itoshi-san!” he blusters, barely sparing you a glance. “we’re so glad you’re here! is the intern bothering you? your interview is in the next room over, so if you just want to follow me- we're so grateful you decided to give us your exclusive.”

something twitches on sae’s face. “intern?”

offense rears its head in your chest. “what-”

“i’ve changed my mind,” sae interrupts mildly. he turns to you, taking hold of one of the many pens lying on your desk.

ask you and your boss watch in bewilderment, he leans down and scrawls something on your notepad.

“she’ll get the exclusive,” he says, straightening back up. “when she isn't an intern anymore.”

and he turns and walks out of the building, leaving nothing but a string of numbers on a sticky note.

the same sticky note rips between your fingers. once you start, you can't stop yourself, until all you're left with is a pile of bright yellow scraps.

you move onto the next item. a wiry black wristband; one half of a forever missing set.

you had been dating sae itoshi for exactly one month. all of your friends still thought it was as some long-standing elaborate joke. at certain times, you couldn't believe it yourself either.

despite it all, despite every little memory you can pore over for hours at a time, you can’t pinpoint the exact moment when things changed.

it’s a strange truth, one you’ve struggled to come to terms with- but it's a truth. if someone were to ask you when your relationship with sae soured, you wouldn't be able to say.

perhaps it wasn't a singular moment. maybe it was a long time in the making, like how a banana slowly browns- until one day, it’s rotted.

either way, one form of heartbreak or another, the truth was this:

you and sae itoshi had ended.

[fortunatelyannoyingcrown]

Just went down the Reddit rabbit hole, and found this sub aside from the main acotar sub- non toxic Acotar? Lmao, I think I just found out what the "non toxic" refers to- it is just a community for Feyre/Rhysand Stans to sit in their little echo chamber and spout misinforming crap about Tamlin/Nesta and Lucien sometimes....

Anyways, there was a post someone put up about what it "would take for Feyre and Tamlin to be Cordial"....

And some of these stupid and biased responses honestly had my blood boiling .I have ss a few here and I'll give my response to each comment as I go...

Oh sincere apology, you say?The one at the end of ACOMAF was not enough?What do y'all Feyrug bitches want him to do?Fall on his knees before her? Frankly, I wish he didn't apologize at all, or save her miserable life.She owes him way way more than he does her so just sftu. And also, look at your own faves' sin list?She can't just be demanding or even expecting apologies when she has done even worse to ruin his life and his court and his legacy, can she?.When Feyrug gives her apology, we'll think about Tamlin extending the same.

Imagine belittling what a depressed suicidal human being is going through, and making it his fault.No sweetie, your fave is a big part of the reason he is the way he is, she destroyed his life for no good reason.But yeah, taking accountability is something Feyrug has never really been good at.

"Feyre might come around"- who TF even is she? That war criminal needs to sit down with herself for a bit, and look at all the peoples' lives she has actively destroyed.So yes, Feyrug Stan you too can stfu and actually understand that your fave has done worse shit to Tamlin that she needs to own up to and apologize for...

And then there's another loser

Like honestly the way there people prop Feyrug on a pedestal when she doesn't even deserve it, like Jesus Christ, I hope Tamlin doesnt even get a POV, if SJM is going to pander to this bitch ass fandom, and have him apologize to her.I would rather he even die than that. Because if he dies, he can die with his self respect intact, instead of bowing before that monstrous bitch and her POS husband.

But unless Feyrug apologizes for all the pain she has caused him, very knowingly in fact, and acknowledges that she has been a POS, I don't want her within a ten foot distance from Tamlin

Like bitch, stay TF away from him Go back to Rhysie poop, your favourite rapist husband, but don't you dare expect an apology from him

If it ever happens, I will throw that copy of the book against the wall.I won't leave Feysand/ Feysand stans alone after that...

Have to get off my soap box now...

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

Nimona headcanons plus a little bonus at the end

Whenever the trio gets home it's like a switch is flipped off inside their brains and all they want to do is be lazy and relax 

They’ve got very busy and stressful lives and a pretty small home so it’s not uncommon for them to yell when they’re asking a question instead of just getting up

And if they can’t hear each other they’ll just call the other person

One time Ambrosius was yelling asking them what wanted for dinner and was interrupted by Nimona calling him 

He answered the phone and all they said was “What’d you say I couldn't hear you” he didn’t even question it he just kept talking 

Nimona brings dead animals home 

I have this small headcanon that the first time she shifted into her human form was when she met Gloreth 

So before that she was living mostly as different animals and she kind of learned their ways and those ways stuck with her 

So there is a small part of her that sees Bal and Ambrosius as incompetent hunters (can you blame her)

The boys always thank her for her doing a good job and then they wait for her to leave the room before they freak out because MY GOD SHE BROUGHT A FUCKING DEAD RAT IN THE DAMN HOUSE 

There have also been times when she’s brought live animals inside the house the trio spent half an hour trying to get a traumatized bird out of their living room 

I just know for a fact that Bal has a crazy amount of brain damage 

This man has used his head as a weapon and has been hit on the head more times than I can count 

So I feel like he has a really hard time remembering the little details he gets really bad migraines and headaches pretty frequently his eyesight is absolute shit and he has to wear contacts or glasses and he gets really bad vertigo if he doesn’t take care of himself 

This worries the shit out of Ambrosius and Nimona but there isn't much they can do except deal with the symptoms when they show up

So I was thinking about the fact that as far as we know Nimona never told Bal about what went down with Gloreth

But I know that the boys would try and heal the damage that Gloreths legacy left behind  

And in the middle of everything Bal turned to Ambrosius and said “I just wish that fucking eyesore was gone” 

He didn’t have to ask what he meant he knew it was the statue 

So Ambrosius got to work trying to get it torn down 

A lot of people including some distant relatives that he hasn’t heard from in years tried to argue that it was an important monument and that her story touched a lot of people 

To which Ambrosius responded with “I’m her direct descendant if anyone gets to choose what happens to that statue it should be me” 

It was a couple of months into Nimona’s return when the demolition was approved 

The boys had asked him a while after he came back if it was something he wanted 

And all he said was “As long as I get to help” 

It was super therapeutic for both Nimona and Ambrosius 

Like don’t get me wrong the damage she did to Nimona is still there 

And Ambrosius will always have a complicated relationship with his lineage 

But tearing down the “fucking eyesore” heals something inside them

It was supposed to be a month-long process but Nimona and Ambrosius kept going and it was completely gone after two weeks

When all was said and done they collapsed on the couch and went through just about every single emotion you can go through

A little bonus I made my mama watch Nimona with me and here are some of my favorite comments: Mind you when I first put the movie on this woman was acting like I was pulling teeth

“I like the queen she seems nice” (and then she freaked out when she died)

“So they’re nice to him 'cause he’s gold I would just steal the armor what does he have without that?” “Money Mama” “Ah”

“Why are they so mean to him he’s just a baby?” (talking about Bal)

“She’s just like you especially with those freaky eyes” (when Nimona met Bal)

“Oh, so she’s the rhino…. Makes sense”

“Awe she’s cute I can't hate her” (about Nimona again)

“Oh wait she isn’t cute that’s freaky” (when Nimona was the demon baby)

“That’s like you and your sister” (Bal and Nimona interrogating the squire)

“Hey, mama is arm chopping a love language?” “I’m worried that you would even ask me that”

“Oh he’s got issues huh?” (after Ambrosius’ internal freak out)

“Can he die a little quieter… and faster” (after the Director stabbed “Ambrosius”)

“Oh fuck that little blond girl”

We had to pause the movie right before Nimona started her rampage because we were getting tired and I woke up to her in front of the tv with it pulled up on Netflix and she turned to me and said “Can we finish it already?”

“If she sacrificed herself I will never forgive you”

“Do you watch anything with straight people?” “Mama you literally ship them” “That's not an answer” (this is right after Bal and Ambrosius kissed)

“Is there a next part?..... so when’s the next one coming out?” 

Once the movie was over I told her some people thought Ambrosius and Bal were related and she looked me dead in the eyes and said

“You’re joking. No you have no be kidding… He literally said it in the movie!” “Said what Mama?” “oh I love him so much and I lost him whatever will I do” 

And then she kept making fun of Ambrosius for the next three minutes

I asked her who her favorite was and she said Nimona I go “aweee you love me” she looks me dead in my eyes and says “don’t make it awkward”

[strawberry-shortcakey]

my defense of Caitlyn in wake of season 2

    Defending my wife rn 

    Lets get right into this mind you my spelling and punctuation are like non existent so yk

Starting off with the thing i feel people seem to not really understand is whats happening is shes being tugged in like 5 different directions struggling between her obligations to her family name the kiraman family is matriarchal this rests on her entirely she wants to maintain her mothers legacy yet theres the undeniable rage fueled by her mothers death and her feeling of failing all of piltover the feeling that if she had killed jinx before there wouldnt have been so many lives lost she feels ultimately responsible for everything in her life which makes that rage overpower her i mean most of the council civilians enforcers who she had been around her WHOLE LIFE. she feels all that weight in her heart and on her mind much like vi due to her trauma generalizes the people of piltover and enforcers cait blames zaunites and i feel its unfair to give vi a pass and not caitlyn shes trying to hold onto her morals she fights for avoiding innocents getting hurt until the memorial attack where it turns into more than an attack by jinx now an attack from multiples causing her to lose that part of her morals and the last pull is for vi caitlyn loves vi thats something i have never doubted for even a second i mean seriously she puts so much at stake for vi. People don't seem to see that her bringing vi before the council in season one couldve ended poorly for her it couldve reflected horribly onto her family if the council had decided not to hear her out. And on top of all of that shes trying to hold it together. We see her cry a few times but she doesnt ever really let it out i mean shes putting herself under that pressure part of her character has always been that she hates when things are just handed to her as we see in her scene with grayson when she gets upset at the mere idea of her parents paying off grayson to let her win and we confirm that stayed into adulthood when jayce offers her that job for him and shes offended at the mere idea and i feel part of her feels if she shows that pain shes in things are gonna be handed to her out of sheer pity something that would likely fuel her rage further and further.

Next topic is her being willing to kill isha if it meant killing jinx. Now i understand the shock of this how it feels “out of character for her” but it really isnt yes she has been openly against the idea of people getting hit in the crossfire but in her mind its 1 innocent for multiple innocents including her own mother. she also isnt the first character to directly or indirectly result in a child's death and she didnt even succeed so yk but anyway every single councilor is responsible for countless deaths of undercity children and families heimerdinger honestly the most responsible because yk like 200 years of  ignoring the undercity and can i also just mention vis switch up on her opinion season one jayce kills a kid when fighting at the shimmer lab and vi has the mentality “you did what needed to be done one life for like 100” yet when caitlyn finds herself in that same mindset vis all “whats wrong with you you're evil now” so uh yeah not an attack on vi just trying to expand on it throughout this i will make comparisons on how we excuse vi but attack caitlyn and why i think thats really telling of how people see her as a character only there for caitvi romance plot!! But anyway caitlyn had every fucking right in that moment mind you she also was running on adrenaline something that i feel a lot of people don't understand in that moment its often impulse you do the first thing to come to mind she was just fighting off sevika shes in that do or die mindset its kill jinx or people die people also don't understand how deep caits trauma around jinx runs we don't know what she was put through during the time between her abduction and the like final scene of season 1 also just yk the entire show. jinx is her personal trauma.

Now onto the caitvi argument in the tunnels lets loop back to the state of mind she was in shes pumped on adrenaline rage and fear. She feels a deep sense of betrayal much like jinx does when vi “picks cait over her” its that feeling of “oh so you care more about someone who deeply hurt me and a random kid than me.” that only fuels her rage/pain that is making her less and less of her core values. caitlyn gets on the defensive she makes a generalization Something once again we see vi do to caitlyn earlier with the oil and water speech which no doubt left a hole in caits heart something that will stick with her dare i even say that plays a part in why she no longer sees zaun and pilover as two sides of the same coin the person who helped her learn something so crucial suddenly saying “actually we are different piltover is all the same you're all horrible. We can never get along, you are not an exception” which no doubt shattered that view and helped cement the separation in her mind. The key difference is that vi didnt get physical cait pushed her and hit her with the rifle but like i said she's on the defense. Also ive seen people saying “oh well cait knows how shes traumatized by enforcers” to caitlyn that trauma is equal to the trauma of what jinx has done to her and honestly it is caitlyn has lost almost everything to this for the sake of what started off as her dreams of justice her need to prove herself has been what she feels like is the sole cause of the  downfall of piltover. Which is why i truly believe caitlyn is still herself that the development to her character logical and her actions fully explainable and defendable 

Little added thing it’s after getting compared to jinx that she hits vi I mentioned how that’s literally her main trauma jinx killed her mom and ruined her life I’d hit someone with a rifle over that too.

And thats all ive got for now lmk if i should cover more!! And i will be adding as arc 2 and 3 release!

[kigieri]

20 Little Horrors

There might be something haunting the paddock and its drivers. The feelings growing, eating one of them after the other, none able to help themselves. Or may it simply be part of the human condition? Something they cannot escape because it lives and grows within them.

A/N: A Halloween fic!🎃 I got inspired by @motorsport-halloween to tip my pen into horror. Since I'm not that big on gore and murder, I challenged myself to more of a psychological horror approach. A little fun fact, as the wonderful and supporting @mariclerc already knows, I almost forgot the Ferrari boys. I had 18 drivers and was deeply confused who was missing. It was simple, the two men under the prancing horse.

This story on AO3.

It started with Logan. Dark circles under the eyes, fingers that rubbed slowly at his temple. The paranoia was palpable. Questions and doubts encircled him. Eating at him. His skin became thinner and paler. What shall one do without certainty, without a stable ground to stand on. You will fall.

The tick of Kevin's neck was something people got used too quickly. The outbursts he was able to excuse for a time. Then came the twitching of his fingers, not knowing what they wanted to do. He didn't control them. Crazy, he did not know if good or bad. He steered himself into the wall and into the abyss.

With time, there was a new aura around Daniel, one he couldn't hide. His eyes had a sheen to them, even while a smile graced his face. He felt heavy and they could see it. They saw all his moves, they saw what broke him down, and they saw him never standing up again. He felt as broken as they called him.

Questions got fewer for Nico. He didn't notice right away, but then a feeling of unease creeped in. Strategies that disregarded him, meetings he was never invited to, and then an entire part of his car's programming that was never implemented. They forgot him, slowly but surely, one after the other, until Nico himself questioned who and what he was.

The knuckle cracking was something Lando should stop, as was the lip biting, but he could not. Every race result crawled under his skin, bit at his inners. The self-doubt was hot and searing. He wanted to scream and cry. Never the finish he wanted, the one he needed. He wanted to rip out his hair. Not good enough, never on the level of his rivals. He would land in oblivion, as so many before him did.

A smirk had found its permanent place on Pierre's face. A contract signed, a seat secured, nothing to stop him. No one would or could stop him. His career would rise, he would have a legacy. Arrogance may drip off of him, but who could deny his qualities. His time would come, it was already long here in his mind. He was better than the rest of them. There was nothing that counted apart from that.

It weighted heavy. Regret followed Sergio everywhere. It stood at every corner he took. Opportunities missed, challenges failed and his dreams slipping through his fingers. Should he have done things differently, could he have? It strangled him.

It was unimaginable in Carlos' mind. They left him behind, to fend for himself. Without warning or help. They would regret it, he would make sure of it. Revenge may taste bitter in the end, but it flooded him hot and painful. He wanted to rip them to shreds, and he would do it. No matter what happened to him.

There was nothing Lance could not and would not ask for. Who would deny him something? His seat was secure until he decided that he was finished. There was no one better than him for it anyways. He thought some narcissism was good on occasion, and when that occasion became his day to day, why should he care? It was not his problem.

Life has uncountable facets. Valtteri, after years of focused dedication, became lost in them. There was not one thing he did more than another, it was one after the other, always something new. It excited him, as it distracted him. A life without a core will become void.

Sleep did not come easy to Lewis and the more stressed he was the worse it got. He followed his passions, in racing and other pursuits. He himself, however, stood to the sidelines. His health was important, but he could work with less sleep, there was so much to do. With time, the edges of his view became blurry and dark spots found their way into his vision, but there was more to be done.

Zhou didn't feel real, he had not for a long time. It was as if people saw through him, as if they reached through him, not remembering he was corporal. They called out for him when he stood right next to them, as though they could not see him. He had felt invisible in his childhood. He had felt invisible through his career. Now it was tangible, felt deep within him, the all encircling non-existence.

It was permanent for Esteban, something that had been there since before had sat in a kart. Some didn't like him, some did, but no one ever wanted what was best for him. They wanted him to stumble and fall. His distrust of the world around was no problem for him, he may be alone, but who needed people. He did not. They would only betray him anyway. That's what he told himself again and again as he drove them away.

Fernando watched himself as he rose to highs and fell to lows. Always from the outside, he could not remember the last time he had controlled his own actions. They came to him, they possessed him, and he let them reign. He did not recall how to perform these simple actions alone. There came times he became thankful for the mindlessness, the fact he did not need to steer any longer.

There was nothing left for Max. His goals had been achieved. He had done what he sat out in life to do. There were other pursuits open to him, but non tasted as sweet as the one he had already embarked on. He had resigned some time ago and was simply waiting for other people to notice. He was finished with it all.

Alex was being crushed under the weight on his shoulder, slowly but surely. Expectations for him were high, and his performance not so much. He could not sleep, could not eat, stress was clinging to every fiber of his being. He considered, while waiting for lights out, if being crushed was not the better solution.

There was rage within Yuki. It had come out in the car at the beginning, but it became more and more tangible outside of it too. People noticed, he noticed. Everything around him tinted red. Anger never left him again. There was no stopping the insults, or, at last, his fists.

George was simply better. His talents did not only lay on track, but in racing he had made it far, hard work and sacrifices paying off. He could maneuver the car, could use chances, and if someone else bottled his race that was by no fault of his own. There were non better than him and he would show it. Why should he learn new things or get better, when his work was already superior.

A silent child, that's how his mother described Oscar. He was never one for screaming or crying, complaining or expressing joy. His expressions changed, his face was stoic, or he smiled, or rolled his eyes, but his mouth stayed shut. He saw little need to express himself with words. With time, he forgot how to do so, little by little.

It had gripped Charles's tight and never let him go. The pressure was unbearable, it ripped at him, crushed him mind and body. There as a constant nausea, fear of failure, fear of disappointment. He loved it all, more than himself, and this sport would eat him alive.

All of them were haunted.

Logan was packed by paranoia.

Kevin went crazy.

Daniel was a broken man.

Nico was forgotten.

Lando drowned in self-doubt.

Pierre was arrogant.

Sergio felt regret.

Carlos was consumed by revenge.

Lance was a narcissistic.

Valtteri got lost.

Lewis did not sleep.

Zhou turned invisible.

Esteban distrusted.

Fernando got possessed.

Max was resigned.

Alex was crushed by expectations.

Yuki felt rage.

George felt his superiority.

Oscar was silent.

Charles felt the pressure.

In the end, none of them could escape.

@kigieri 2024. All rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate or repost any of my work.

[itmeansiris]

The Solar System Legacy Challenge: Make mine a Triple Gen 1 pt.79

Wednesday afternoon M was finishing a cup of coffee when Kason walked in and stood in the doorway. He leaned against the frame and smiled.

Kason: Look who I found outside.

Behind him stood Kiersten and Winter arm in arm like they'd known each other forever. Venus and Ishtar ran in to greet Winter.

Ishtar: Auntie Winter!

Venus: Queen of Fairies. We welcome you.

Winter: My dino master! And if it isn't my firey guard herself. How are the royal voidcritters? Trained and ready for battle I hope.

Venus: Always ready my queen.

They shared a laugh and Winter gathered them both into a long hug. After greeting the remaining members of the Gratz household, elated, M led the woman out into the backyard for some privacy. Winter headed over to the cooler to grab a drink while Kiersten wandered over to Kason's work shed giving M and Winter a moment alone. Unable to wait another minute they embraced. M pulled Winter in close but when she did she felt the slight bulge beneath her coat. She took a step back and stared at Winter, the unspoken question hanging between them, until M could no longer handle the silence.

M: Are you?

Winter: I didn't want to tell you over the phone.

M: Oh my watcher congratulations! When did you find out?

Winter shook her head smiling at her friend. She had missed M a great deal and was eager to share her own news but she had a duty to herself and Peyton to find out what had happened.

Winter: Nope, later. First, tell me everything.

Mercury caught Winter up on the Paris incident with Kiersten filling in any missing details. Bundled in their coats to fight the chill of late fall on the coast, they attempt to dissect Paris's behaviors.

Winter: I saw you a season ago. How did the Leprechaun from hell manage to start that much trouble? What’s her obsession with you?

M: *sigh* It was more my mess than anything. I never should have listened to anything she said, but the pictures blinded me, and I took out my fears on Kason.

Kiersten: Don't take responsibility for Paris's actions! She's a horrible person. She wanted to hurt you and Kason. But that seems to be her thing. She didn't even think twice about using her friend for her personal game.

Winter: Kiersten is right M. Don't give that bitch any more excuses for her poor manners and offensive behavior. She's lucky I don't put a spell on her!

Kiersten: Ooo that sounds like the perfect idea. Maybe one to zip her big mouth shut for a while.

Winter: Try forever.

It was the first time Winter and Kiersten had met. M was combining her two worlds and she hoped that her lifelong partner in crime could grow to like her new down-to-earth comrade.

So far it was going better than Mercury could have imagined. It was like striking gold. M loved Kiersten with her motherly attitude. She was sweet but honest and down for a fun time. But no one could contend with the creative, high-spirited, trouble-making fairy. Yet the two women interacted as though they had been friends their whole lives instead of a few short hours.

Kiersten: Rufus told me that since that night Paris has been worse than before at work. She even seems to have it out for Rufus now and they aren't even in the same department, and with Kason gone the last couple of days after the big promotion she's been in rare form.

M: Greg hasn't done anything to get her in order?

Kiersten: Greg has been away on vacation since the night of the company dinner. He flew to Tartosa with his husband.

Winter: Can't Kason just fire her? Sounds like your whole town is under attack. I'm just glad it turned out okay. Peyton tried to get on the first train out here. He was packing and mumbling something about kicking Kason's ass if any of it was true trying to calm him was hilarious. Come to think of it I owe Kason a smack on the head.

The women laughed. It was a relief to finally be able to talk about Paris so openly. M hadn't mentioned Paris or Madison unless she was talking to Takara. She even stopped asking Kason about Paris at work afraid to break the peace that had descended on their lives. If he didn't mention her neither would she.

Kiersten: Peyton is your husband right?

Winter looked over at M who had a smug smirk on her face

M: Yeah Winter is Peyton your husband?

Winter rolled her eyes and turned to Kiersten.

Winter: You have no idea what you've just started.

M: No go on Winter. Tell us when and how you got married.

Winter sighed and removed her coat. Hanging upside down on the sofa she rushed through the story.

Winter: We still lived in San Myshuno and the romance festival was in town. So Peyton and I stopped by just for a cup of Sakura tea when he got dragged into a love reading from one of those phony guru guys. Anyways he told Peyton not to make long-term plans about our relationship and that pissed Peyton off. You know Mr. I get what I want, he tried to get the guy to change his reading, and when he wouldn't Peyton swore he'd show him that we were meant for each other. Long story short, he pulled me over to the festival wedding arch and we were married that night.

Kiersten smiled with tears in her eyes, but M narrowed hers.

Kiersten: Wow! That's quite the story. It's simple yet so roman-

M: Moral of the story, she robbed me of my chance at being a bridesmaid!

Winter: Here we go again. No I did not! We’ve been over this. There wouldn't have been any bridesmaids because we would have married quietly at the courthouse! And you would have been my maid of honor. In charge of all the gritty stuff plus I’d get to boss you around.

M: Like you do already.

Winter knew that if she ever settled down she wanted to be married in private just her, her family, and her mate.

Winter: Besides you can't blame me for this it was completely Peytons idea.

M: I dont remember hearing a part in the story where you tried to stop him.

Winter: You can be Kiersten’s Maid of Honor, problem solved.

M: She’s already married Winter!!

Winter: Oh, right. Oh well.

Kiersten watched the two go back and forth. They became more animated the longer they bantered, but it was all in good spirit. Kiersten could tell they were close. She had missed this kind of female company until she’d became friends with M and she could feel Winter quickly growing on her. Suddenly she had a thought.

Kiersten: Oh my watcher! What if we plan her a wedding?

M rounded on her dropping back into the seat closest to Kiersten with a huge smile and flirty eyes.

M: Maybe you should marry me? Why didn’t I think of that it’s a great idea!

Winter hung her head and pinched the bridge of her nose.

Winter: I should have known you would be trouble, you are as bad as a fairy. Goddess like appearance yet a heart made of pure evil and you! Mercury Gratz if you-

M: Oh you have no idea. Kiersten grab Dite were about to go shopping.

Previous Next

Beginning

Sidebar: Winter kept switching her outfit between cold weather and every day. I just let it be since she's Pregnant AGAIN! (No I didn't make her once again Winter does what Winter wants) but I have changed the settings since then. I am blaming it on her bouncing between hot and cold.

Pose: @starrysimsie group couch chat @Atashi77 bowing down poses @simmireen three friends.

[joliackermann]

MY SWTD OC

FINALLY CALEB IS HERE

WOHOOO

His full name is Caleb Evans, becoming Caleb Zakarius after he married later on in his life.

He is my bald squad OC, btw 👀

Here is a little doodle I did of him:

Still working on this tho, but I finally have something to present, so here we go:

Explanation: 

Caleb is one of my pre-existing characters. I wanted to finally create my SWTD OC and used a random name generator and it just gave me the name “Caleb” and I was like “eh, why not?”

So this Caleb is technically Caleb from TS4 Vampires, but from my super old legacy save file. Gonna write some more about this later.

My sims 4 save file is a canon part of my book universe, so technically this is canon in my book as well?

It’s honestly kind of complicated, but since this OC is part of my book universe, I will apply the rules of my universe to this character.

Basically there is this thing, where time and space can sometimes be a bit unstable.

You know the feeling when you can’t find something, even though you are 100% sure that it has to be there somewhere?

Or all those missing people, whose bodies were never found?

Yeah. That’s what happened to them.

They were taken from their time, their universe and put somewhere random in another universe, without really knowing or understanding what had just happened.

Spoiler: this is how Caleb survives. 

Backstory:

Caleb grew up in an abusive household, becoming very protective of his sister from a very young age.

At only sixteen years old, his sister decided to run away with an older man, leaving Caleb with nothing.

He knew he needed money if he wanted to escape from home, which he now could. Without his sister, there was nothing holding him there.

Which is why, at the age of twenty four, he decided to take a job on an oil rig in the North Sea. 

When first arriving, he was placed in a room with Addair, since no other rooms were currently available due to water damage.

His job was simple; helping Roy in the galley. Following instructions, not really having to think for himself. For the first time ever, he could turn his brain off and just live, not having to care about anything really. 

He got along well with Roy right from the start, but let's be honest, who wouldn’t?

Roy was understanding whenever Caleb made any mistakes and was willing to help him, becoming a sort of mentor to him.

With Addair, the start was a lot rougher.

Addair never tried hiding his political views, giving Caleb flashbacks from his abusive home. For a moment, he was scared that the universe wanted to pull a prank on him and Addair was going to turn out to be a copy of his father.

But Addair had many good qualities and even though he and Caleb didn’t have the same political viewpoints, they got along great.

Addair gave Caleb another perspective; showing that even someone with these kinds of views could be a good human and a good father.

It was almost as if Addair was healing bits of the damage done by Caleb's father. 

For the first time, he didn’t need to protect anybody. Instead, he was being the one who was being protected by others.

Over time, Caleb's relationship with both Roy and Addair developed into something more. Nobody ever really talked about it, but Roy and Addair give him security and the feeling of being loved; something he never really had before.

Roys and Addairs relationship changes as well. Roy and Addair never really had a problem with each other, being mostly neutral to one another. But both overly protective over Caleb and in love with him, even though they never said a single word. Everybody knew, even though they themselves didn’t even really realise, and everybody accepted it. 

The events of the game: 

So Caleb was with Roy for the beginning part of the day.

After Caz decided to go to the lifeboats, Caleb went on his way to find Addair.

He knew Roy was safe, hiding in the pantry with Caz looking out for him.

But Addair was somewhere out there and Caleb needed to find him. 

He actually encountered mutated Gibbo at one point, though both held their distance.

When Caleb asked him about Addair, Gibbo had a breakdown. He couldn’t think straight for a moment and went for Caleb, though Caleb managed to outrun him, locking the door behind him before bringing more distance between himself and Gibbo.

But soon after, he started feeling worse; hearing voices. More specifically, his sister’s cries, from when they were kids and their father, in a fit of rage, had thrown his half empty beer bottle at his children.

It was something he often did when he had too much to drink. 

Trying to escape the voices and the visions, Caleb started running before suddenly breaking down as he felt pain shooting through his body.

It was the worst pain he had ever felt.

Worse than the stinging feeling when the beer bottle had hit him in the head, or the burning sensation when he was forced to pick up the broken glass and cut his hands. Worse than all the times his father had beaten him.

Caleb closed his eyes in pain and when he opened them again, he was somewhere else.

TS4/Book universe:

At first he thought it was only another hallucination.

After opening his eyes, Caleb found himself on the ground outside, a giant black castle right in front of him.

It was night, even though he was 100% sure that it had been the middle of the day just seconds ago. 

A strange man opened the door.

He was tall and skinny, his hair grey and his face full of wrinkles. He looked a thousand years old, at least.

The man smiled at Caleb and asked him if he needed help; said he knew just the right thing. A cure for every disease possible.

Caleb agreed, not really having anything to lose, his sister's voice still crying in his head. 

The cure turned out to be more of a curse, but it was too late when Caleb realised, already on his way to become the blood child of the mysterious master vampire. 

Caleb lived a hundred years, studying medicine and working night shift at the hospital. He had time and the hospital had an endless supply of blood.

It took years for Caleb to let people into his life again.

He had lost so much and was afraid to lose even more, so for a hundred years, he kept his distance. 

But then came this boy, the son of an acquaintance. Leif Zakarius, the third child of Johannes and Mike Zakarius.

They hadn’t meant for Leif to come into this world, having already enough to do with only two children and a cat at home.

But Leif came into this world and proceeded to stay there longer than any other of his family members. 

Leif always felt like an outsider in his family.

Much like Caleb, he wandered aimlessly through life.

And with time, they fell in love.

It was the first time in a hundred years that Caleb had allowed himself to love again.

Not knowing any cure for the vampire curse, he turned Leif into a vampire instead. It was either spend eternity together or die together as old men, but that wasn’t an option.

Soon, at least for vampires, they welcomed their first and only daughter into the world.

Fiona Zakarius, a beautiful, intelligent girl.

Never before had Caleb loved someone so much.

He became protective, overly protective if you asked Leif, and when she started dating an older man, Caleb was against it.

His sister had run away with an older man and he was afraid that his daughter would do the same thing to him.

But she didn’t. Sure, she moved in with the older man, turned him into a vampire, wanting to spend eternity with him, but she often came to visit and whenever the man was not at home, Caleb came to visit her as well. 

It seemed like he was finally in a position where he could allow himself to heal.

[tyrantisterror]

What's the worst legacy sequel you've ever seen? What, in your opinion, separates a good legacy sequel from a bad legacy sequel and what's the worst thing you think a legacy sequel can do?

The worst that I've seen is probably Rise of Skywalker. It's close competition, though - both Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom and Jurassic World: Dominion have moments that are significantly more stupid than anything in Rise of Sky Walker, but I also think both have a bit more creative effort put into them - Fallen Kingdom has that third act where it basically becomes a Resident Evil adaptation except with a murder-saurus in place of the Tyrant, and Dominion has the whole locust plotline which, while terrible, is at least an unexpected direction for a Jurassic Park sequel to go into that tries to figure out something ELSE you could do with the genetic engineering premise of the franchise beyond just making dinosaurs. Like, all three Jurassic World movies have big problems and they get progressively dumber with each installment, but they're also all ambitious to some degree that I still feel respect for, even if they never really actually reach those lofty aspirations.

Rise of Skywalker, on the other hand, has no ambitions at all. It has nothing it wants to say, no unique twists to pull, no real identity of its own. It's a potroast made of leftovers from better movies, a resuscitated corpse of something much more interesting, patched together like a Frankenstein's monster and abandoned to a cruel world just as callously.

It has no desire to do anything new, merely a checklist of Things You've Seen Before That the Focus Groups Say You'd Probably Like to See Again. Any character that can be slipped into an arc that was done in a previous Star Wars film is slipped into one no matter how little sense it makes for them, and any character who can't is either forced to tread water with nothing to do (hi Finn!) or just quietly shoved off to the side early on and forgotten about (hi Rose!).

Any story beats that weren't in the original films are simply grabbed from a box that reads "time tested cliches to keep your script moving with minimal effort." Make the plot a treasure hunt so we can just race from scene to scene with the flimsiest justification possible and try and trick the audience into thinking something is actually happening! What's that, audience interest is flagging? Quick, throw in a cameo of someone from an older movie! What's that, they're bored again? Pretend to kill one of the old characters, but make sure to reveal they actually lived in no more than two scenes down the line, or else we might piss off the fanboys! Hey, let's look at the Cinema Sins videos for the original movies and see if there's some gripes we can "fix" with this one for added fan cred! Can't disappoint our audience!

It's the story-telling equivalent of smothering something in salt to cover up the funky taste of the close-to-the-expiration-date ingredients.

As for what makes a good vs. a bad legacy sequel... ok, so, let's define legacy sequel first. A legacy sequel is a film or TV show that is a sequel to a popular film or TV series that ended a good many years ago, which brings back some of the old cast of characters (generally played by the same, and thus much older, actors that played them in the past) along with adding a new cast of characters played by younger actors. It tries to replicate the tone of the original series despite being made in a different era and probably by different writers and directors, and generally aims to give you that Ratatouille style moment of nostalgia.

I think most Legacy sequels are kind of doomed to be mediocre at best on the outset because the goal of them from the moment of conception is so mercenary - they're not created to Tell A Good Story, they're created to Keep Consumers Invested in a Lucrative Content Franchise. They have the artistic aspirations of a McDonald's Hamburger - "This tastes exactly like what you had as a kid, and doesn't that make you crave more of it?"

I don't think that art made for mercenary reasons is doomed to be bad, mind you - I mean, almost ALL movies and television were made to make money first and foremost. Even the classic High Art movies I love like Seven Samurai and The Third Man were made for mercenary reasons at the end of the line - it didn't stop the people who were working on them from having artistic goals, but it's a fact nonetheless.

But Legacy Sequels just have an uphill battle in the "artistic aspirations" department, because most people with artistic aspirations don't want to recreate the feeling someone else inspired with their art - they want to put their own stamp on it, their own spin, their own voice. And that will often mean something VERY different will be made, something that might piss of the fans - something that doesn't taste like the McDonald's hamburger you had as a kid, even though it came in the same wrapper.

The worst parts of Legacy Sequels are the only parts that Rise of Skywalker is made of - the parts where the story is clearly only trying to show you things you know, only trying to reheat the leftovers so they taste like your memories, only trying to trick the nostalgia center of your brain that you're four years old again eating at McDonald's. "Here's the thing you know! Here's the running gag you liked, repeated five more times by actors with far less enthusiasm! Here's the same basic premise as the first film, but the stakes have been inflated to make it feel like a progression! Cameos! Catch phrases! Eat your hamburger, you consumer pig!"

The rare good legacy sequels don't really TRY to be legacy sequels. They're just... sequels. Another story in the same world as the first, bringing back the characters who actually have interesting arcs left in them, creating new characters with their own shit going on who have good chemistry with the pre-established characters and setting, expanding on themes from the original and exploring parts of the setting that hadn't been explored yet, and all in all telling their own story that's related to the first one's but still manages to be its own distinct thing.

There are not many good legacy sequels, because a good legacy sequel is different than the McDonald's hamburger you ate when you were four, and might make less money than desired because of it.

[astoundingbeyondbelief]

Kaiju Week in Review (December 3-9, 2023)

I made a frame from this shot Wikizilla's Image of the Week. No regrets. Monarch: Legacy of Monsters, I love ya. When I was a teenager, explicit queerness was anathema to most big-name franchises. Those dominoes have been slowly falling, often in lower-profile tie-ins first, and to me this is a huge one: 69 years without a queer live-action Godzilla character are over. And Cate's the main protagonist of the show! I'm not under the delusion that media representation will cure all society's ills, but it sure doesn't hurt. Now, the non-Tumblr parts of the fandom are being completely normal about this, right? Right? Whatever, that's why you'll never get rid of me here. Cate had a couple more sweet moments with May in this episode, and Mariko Tamaki wrote episode 7, so don't expect her to stop kissing girls. Hopefully she's learned a valuable lesson about cheating though.

"The Way Out" is also another gift to those of us who have always wanted to see more of the ramifications of a world where Godzilla exists, from underground towns for the super-rich to ruined cities where federal troops shoot looters and harass people experiencing homelessness. And the show continues to find ways to use kaiju to talk about COVID, from Cate and Kentaro's exchange about San Francisco truthers ("It's easier than waking up every day and thinking, at any moment, the same could happen to you") to the blink-of-an-eye speed at which the threat went from on the news to her front door in the flashbacks.

As I foretold, we got a Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire trailer, an amusing contrast to the weighty Toho flick and Apple show already fore of mind. It's Adam Wingard unbound, that's for sure. The human cast seems pared back, a longstanding Monsterverse problem, and the kaiju fights were far and away the best part of Godzilla vs. Kong, so hopefully this approach will play to his strengths. But that movie also had excellent VFX, and some of the shots in here are rough. There's time to fix them, at least... which probably can't be said of Godzilla's design. I like that he's pink (did some Warner Bros. executive take the wrong message away from Barbie?) and sporting a thagomizer on his tail, but his proportions are uncanny. And I see Kong found the Infinity Gauntlet; good for him.

I am, of course, not done talking about Godzilla Minus One. It added over 200 screens and made $8.3 million in its second weekend in the U.S., a minuscule drop considering that its $11.4 million opening "weekend" spanned five days. Almost a third of all tickets sold this weekend were for Godzilla or Hayao Miyazaki's The Boy and the Heron, remarkable in a market so allergic to foreign imports. That brings its total to $25.3 million (more by the time you read this). With an avalanche of Christmas blockbusters on the way, its grip on premium-format screens is about to slip. Still, I see it hanging around theaters for a while. I have never seen the fandom so united in praise for a film before, and it's making plenty of new fans.

Some of those fans are in high places. Variety leaked that it's on the 20-film shortlist for Best Visual Effects at the Oscars (to be narrowed to five nominees), something I, again, never expected to read about a Toho Godzilla film. Alas, it's locked out of this year's Best International Film category due to the quirky nomination period.

Much has been made of how great the film looks on a $15 million budget. I have two caveats, one in each direction. No one is quite sure where the $15 million figure came from; Yamazaki said at a recent con appearance that he only wished he had that much to play with. (He has yet to divulge the actual budget, just that it was above ¥1 billion.) Now, unions in the Japanese film industry are much weaker than in Hollywood, so a given production budget goes a lot further in Japan. All the same, I doubt that alone explains Minus One looking better than most superhero movies made for twenty times the cost. I'll offer a couple more reasons: Yamazaki has extensive visual effects experience (he's been the VFX supervisor of all but one of the live-action films he's directed), and the film's big effects scenes aren't as busy or lengthy as many of the Hollywood counterparts. I don't know if Disney will ask Yamazaki to direct the next Star Wars movie (that would require there to be a next Star Wars movie), but the studios here should be taking notes.

the sphinx, a blog with a ton of American Godzilla rarities to share, has outdone itself—behold a continuity and dialogue script for the U.S. version of King Kong vs. Godzilla! Included in the download is a detailed comparison with the film. No huge differences, apart from the script giving the secretary added to the U.S. version a name, but a fascinating piece of history all the same.

The Minus One incarnation of Godzilla (MaiGoji?) has joined Godzilla Battle Line, accompanied by [SPOILER]. To be honest, my enthusiasm for this game has been flagging, and I'm not caught up on the strategies developing around these two, so I'll just refer you to Sir Melee's channel as usual. This Godzilla's also doing a collaboration with the Japanese mobile game Fleet of Blue Flame.

Tiffany Grant, Asuka's original voice actress, will narrate the audiobooks for the Neon Genesis Evangelion: ANIMA light novels which explore an Instrumentality-free path for the show. Seven Seas Entertainment published them in English from 2019 to 2021, which, to be honest, was also news to me.

This one's for my fellow library workers: the obscenely popular Who HQ nonfiction series for children is publishing a book about Godzilla next June. I don't know if this will have quite the same impact on today's young Godzilla fans as the Ian Thorne tome had on Gen Xers and Millennials, what with the Internet and all, but it's certain to be more factual. Expect illustrations instead of licensed photos, and not just because of Toho.

I can finally talk more about the Godzilla x Kong: Titan Chasers mobile game without fearing a DMCA. Not that there's much to talk about; it's freemium through and through and I'm not sure I know a single person who's excited for it. Interesting to see some critters from the comics break into another medium, at least. Here's the trailer.

[aihoshiino]

I had an idea for a time loop Oshi no Ko fic.

Start with the breakup conversation between Ai and Kamiki. Ai can tell that Kamiki's taking it badly, but what's done is done. For time loop reasons, Kamiki immediately tells a jealous stalker about Ai's pregnancy and home address, and she gets murdered within the week.

Ai gets booted back to some time before the breakup. Once she figures out what's going on, she has two goals: Take advantage of the time loop to find a better way to break up with Kamiki, and don't get murdered. (Obviously, she does not realize that there is a connection between these goals.)

As one of Tumblr's premier Ai Hoshino fans, do you think this idea sounds interesting or—? Well, if you don't, I doubt you'd actually post this ask.

genuinely unironically and with ten thousand percent sincerity i fucking love that the legacy of my online presence is '#1 hoshino ai wife guy'. this is what i was put on this earth to do.

Joking aside tho… Godddddd I've always loved the idea of an OnK timeloop fic!!!! I actually think the story lends itself really well to that kind of premise - the story revolves around this central tragedy as its axis and has just enough soft magic supernatural elements that you can so easily bullshit up a natural feeling reason for this to be happening. I also think this idea works surprisingly well in a thematic sense, too? OnK is about cycles, at least in the sense of generational echoes, but it's also about narratives, those created by and about us, and about moving on from past trauma to reclaim your right to the future. Timeloop stories are really natural and well suited vehicles for those sorts of themes.

I also think it would be super fun to play with in like, a metanarrative sense as well? Idr if this particular thought ever made its way onto tumblr, but I love rolling the idea in my brain of Ai being 'narratively cursed' in a sense. Because Ai as a character in a story is kind of defined by her fate - her role in OnK and any of its derivatives is defined by the question of whether or not she lives and even in stories where she survives, it still echoes. The idea of making that something the characters in the story have to tangibly grapple with me is super compelling to me. Like, maybe it's a KagePro sort of thing where, even if her death at Ryosuke's hands is prevented, her death on that day is 'fated'.

I think this could be a really cool reflection of something in the original text the story doesn't really get as much time to go into, that Ai's tragedy is simultaneously preventable and avoidable & inevitable and unstoppable, purely because of the way the deck was stacked against her. Even if there was no Ryosuke, there would have been a hundred other men with knives in their hands. Her "fate" is inevitable because it's the end result of a whole Rude Goldberg machine of systematic and individual choices made to exploit her for her whole life. Ai can't ever escape the narrative because she has no control over it. Her one act of rebellion against it - her decision to become Aqua and Ruby's mother - is the thing that cements her doom.

Because of this, I don't think I would actually want Ai herself to be the center of a loop story focused on saving her? Like, her being the POV character would be interesting but I think another character would need to be the main looper. This is because, for me… I actually don't think Ai can ever 'save' herself.

Not in the sense that she is incapable of doing so, but because saving herself would destroy any chance of her salvation in the first place. Her entire life, she has been failed by every single person who had the responsibility to love and protect her and she is forced to uplift herself as a result. Ai saving herself is the final proof to her that nobody was ever going to help her, that she cannot be authentically loved or accepted as she is. Kindness was always conditional. Her love was never reciprocated.

This is why she has to be saved by someone else - because her salvation is someone seeing both Hoshino Ai and Ai of B-Komachi and choosing Hoshino Ai. That's why her fate is inevitable. Because everyone else will always choose "Ai of B-Komachi". She can only be saved by a person who sees all of her and decides to unconditionally love and accept Hoshino Ai with the full understanding of everything that she is.

Because of that… I think Kamiki would be the ideal looper in a scenario like this. Not only does it provide salvation for Ai, but I also think it creates a really interesting route to salvation/redemption for Kamiki; presenting him with not just the opportunity but the necessity to undo his mistakes and repair the damage he caused and. in the process, come to finally, truly understand Ai as a person, not as his savior. And in doing so, Kamiki saves himself, too.

That's just how I'd do it, anyway…! I don't know that I'd ever have the energy or drive to write this sort of thing myself, but people are free to mine this for ideas for their own fics/AUs/etc.

[philomenie]

KILLING ME SOFTLY

Hitman!Jolly - Part 1

CN murder, violence, sex, organized crime, blood, angst, 18+

@jilliemiw86 @nojoyontheburn @reyadawn @dsireland86

Thirteen

WHERE are you?! Jolly types into his cell phone. I'm in the emergency room waiting area. I promised you I'd wait! Olivia writes back. Jolly breathes a sigh of relief. Good, I'll be right with you! He replies. Jolly is exhausted. He feels like he could sleep for a whole week. After Oleg's body was taken to the pathology department and Inga and Kolja were informed of Oleg's sudden death, events came thick and fast. Contrary to expectations, Semjon, that damn tough motherfucker, survived the operation. However, he is now in a coma and it is only a matter of time before he finally dies. Because he won't wake up. The doctors were very clear. This brain tumor has now caused so much damage that Semjon will not live out the last days of his cursed life consciously, but will instead lie ventilated and unconscious in a bed until his body finally gives up. Inga then had a nervous breakdown.

Jolly might even have felt sorry for her, but Inga is a calculating, ice-cold bitch who will walk over dead bodies to achieve her goals. Kolja was completely without a plan, helpless, until Nadja took care of him. And this weakling is now supposed to take over the organization, his father's empire. To carry on his legacy... Jolly thinks bitterly. An undertaking that is already doomed to failure. But that's fine by him. He wants nothing more to do with it anyway. Inga and Kolja will stay with Semjon for the night, that has already been arranged. Kolja has also instructed him to secure all his father's documents and bring them to safety, which Jolly has just done. Luckily, Semjon was always organized and prepared for any eventuality, so Jolly hardly had any problems. What he also did, however, while he was at it, was to make a copy of all Semjon's data. He now has it on a flash drive, safely stored in his pocket. He is not yet sure exactly what he will do with it. It all depends on what difficulties arise in the near future.

“Hey, I'd like to go home now. I've sent men to keep watch outside the door. Your house and offices are also secured. So if you don't need me anymore....” Jolly looks at Kolja questioningly. “Hmm,” Kolja nods absentmindedly, pale and holding his father's hand, ”If there's anything, I'll call you....” “Good... I hope he recovers!” Jolly chokes out quickly before leaving the room. He tells the men in front of him again to take good care and then goes into the waiting area of the emergency room. He discovers Olivia, who is curled up on one of the seats, lying more than sitting. The sight of her warms Jolly. This woman never ceases to amaze me, he thinks to himself with a smile. But before he goes to her, he takes another good look around. Something like what happened to Oleg and Artur's men before MUST never happen again, he thinks to himself grimly. He must never be that careless again. Jolly sits down next to her, “Can we go?” he asks her quietly. “Hmm,” Olivia nods and takes his hand. Jolly now looks her in the eye, “We need to be more careful!” he declares seriously, “Let's talk about this at home!” Olivia raises an eyebrow, but nods and lets Jolly, who has already stood up, pull her along. “I'm certainly not going to move in with Doi or Davis or whatever his name is on a temporary basis! Especially not without you! You can forget it!” Olivia hisses angrily at Jolly and throws a towel at him. “Liv... it's the safest thing for you!” Jolly tries again. “NO!” she growls as she stomps into the bedroom. “LIV! I'm serious. It's too dangerous for you.... If we're seen together again....” Jolly begins again.

“No... just NO!” hisses Olivia back ”You don't think yourself that I'm going to hide out at Doi's, stop going to work, which isn't so easy to do, and leave you here alone? Sorry, but... forget it!” “LIV!” Jolly starts to get angry and grabs her by the arm, yanking her towards him, “I need a clear head! I don't have one if I have to worry about you all the time....” “You don't have to worry!” snorts Olivia, ”I'll be fine!” Jolly shakes his head in bewilderment, “FINE? LIV, you were attacked because of ME. Your life was threatened today because of ME. Both times because I wasn't attentive enough. This must not happen again!”

“And then you'll send me away? To the Yakuza? That's your plan then?” Olivia hisses at him, ”And you stay here? You'll be here every day with these, these.... Inhumans? Let them use you.... Hurt you....” Jolly grabs her upper arms, holding her tight, “YES! Because I have to. Because I can't act suspicious. Because too much depends on it. Because YOUR life depends on it!” “No!” Olivia shakes her head again, ”I'm not going alone! IF you want me to go to Doi, then only with you! I'm staying here.. Here with you!” “God damn it, LIV!” groans Jolly, ‘You're the most stubborn, impossible wench I've ever met!’ and loosens his grip. Olivia glares angrily at him, her eyes glowing dark green. Then she suddenly grabs his face, pulls him towards her and kisses him greedily. She runs her tongue between his lips and presses herself against him. Jolly wraps his arms around her body and presses her against him. Olivia lets go of him with a gasp, “I'm not leaving you! Never in my life will I do that!” “God Liv....” moans Jolly and is interrupted by another kiss from Olivia. Greedily, they both press against each other, running their hands over each other's bodies.

Olivia impatiently tugs Jolly's tie off his neck and undoes the small buttons of his shirt. “FUCK!” she hisses as it goes too slowly for her and simply rips his shirt open. The buttons pop off and fall to the wooden floor of her bedroom with a clatter. Jolly snorts, reaches into her hair and presses his lips to hers again as Liv pulls his shirt off his shoulders. Jolly lets his mouth travel down her neck, then sucks on her tender skin right at the crook of her neck. Olivia gasps, “No hickey...” she whispers. “Hmm,” Jolly growls, biting lightly into her neck before sucking on her again, running his tongue over her skin in circular motions as his fingers unzip her jeans and slip them downwards in an agitated manner. Olivia kicks the jeans off her body and kicks them away, undoing Jolly's belt and pants. Jolly lifts her up and throws her onto the bed next to him. He takes off her sweatshirt and immediately kisses her neck and her sensitive earlobe again. “FUCk!” Olivia gasps as pleasurable shivers race through her body. Jolly pushes his hands into her panties and pulls them off her body. As his fingers touch her folds, he snorts, “Damn....” he grins, as she is already completely wet.

Impatiently, she arches towards him and Jolly pushes two fingers inside her while Liv pulls his boxer shorts down with her hands and feet, freeing his hard cock. “You're skillful!” he laughs in amusement. “Shall I show you HOW skillful?” she teases him, pushing him onto the bed and swinging herself on top of him. She holds his cock and slowly sinks onto him, moaning, until he is completely inside her. Jolly presses the back of his head into the pillow and claws into the soft flesh of her hips as Olivia begins to move back and forth in smooth movements.

When Jolly opens his eyes, his breath almost catches and if he wasn't already hard as concrete from her touch and presence, he would be now..... Olivia has her eyes closed and is nibbling her hard, round nipple with one hand, gently stroking her clit with the other. “FUCK, woman......!” gasps Jolly and begins to thrust into her mercilessly, holding her with an iron grip.

As Olivia's orgasm rushes through her, she collapses on top of him, clinging to him, “I'm NOT going anywhere!” she gasps, “We're staying together!” “God, Liv....” moans Jolly before he pours into her. Trembling, they remain lying there. Liv lifts her head, “We'll stay together no matter what! We'll get through this together. I'll do the devil and leave you alone!” and then she kisses him. Jolly wraps his arms around her, “I love you so much ....” he whispers harshly.

“What's this?” Olivia wants to know from Jolly after he has taken a memory stick out of his pocket and thrown his pants back on the floor. “THIS, min Liv, is our back-up!” he smiles and hands it to Olivia. “A memory stick?!” Olivia raises her eyebrow questioningly. “Hmm” nods Jolly, ”I can use it to ensure our freedom and safety!” “And why should I go to Doi then?” Olivia wants to know. “Kolja and Inga don't know that I'm getting out, that I have all the information about the organization, about them, about every single member, their connections, their business, everything, on this memory stick!” smiles Jolly. “Where did you get it so suddenly?” Olivia sits up and looks closely at the memory stick. “I had to back up all the data for Kolja today and I seized the opportunity.....” grins Jolly. “That means you can buy your way out with this thing?” Olivia asks. “Hmm... something like that. I see it more as security that they'll leave us alone if they don't want me to use the data against them!” explains Jolly. “So you're going to keep pretending everything's fine until Doi has our new papers?” Olivia looks at him questioningly.

“Hmm” nods Jolly and lies back in the pillows, ”Semjon dies... that throws everything into disarray. So it's easy for us to disappear. There's no better time, so to speak!” Olivia snuggles up to him, “Your word in God's ear!” and wants to give Jolly the stick back.

“You keep it!” urges Jolly, ”Keep it in a safe place where you can access it whenever you need to.” Olivia turns pale, “You think....” she gulps. “No, I don't think so!” Jolly hastens to say, ”No one suspects.... I'll just disappear, with you, and that'll be that!” “OK.....” mumbles Olivia, pressing herself against him. “Oleg Petrow..... you weren't involved by any chance?” is the first thing Jolly hears from Doi when he calls him. “Possibly...” Jolly remains vague. “So you're already cleaning up after yourself. I like that!” laughs Doi. “More of a coincidence.... It just so happened!” explains Jolly. “How long does Volkov have left?” Doi wants to know. “A few days, if you believe the doctors!” shrugs Jolly.

“It would be good if he didn't leave the hospital alive!” Doi suddenly says. “Not a chance. Inga and Kolja are with him 24/7. His bodyguards outside the door. That would be suicide! Just wait and see... it'll sort itself out!” promises Jolly. “Good.... But Semjon's puppy.....” Doi follows up. “Inga is more dangerous than Kolja. If you want to get someone out of the way, it's her!” growls Jolly.

“I've been thinking... about what you said, about Nadja... I've asked around and your idea isn't the worst....” explains Doi. “What are you trying to tell me?” Jolly wants to know. “Well, nothing special really... except that I'd like Nadja to be the head of the organization instead of Kolja!” smiles Doi into the phone. “I'm supposed to get Kolja and Inga out of the way?” hisses Jolly. “Hmm, and preferably those who are loyal to them!” nods Doi. “FUCK, that wasn't the deal!” growls Jolly angrily. “No, our deal stands! I have another deal in mind.... I guarantee you permanent protection after you get off. You'd never have to look over your shoulder to see if you've been found out...” Doi offers, ”I'll add another million on top of the million!”

Jolly is speechless, “Um... I have to think about that first!” he chokes out. “Do that! Think about it carefully! Oh, by the way, I have your papers..... just for your information. You can take them and leave at any time and we'll call it even. Or you can take care of Kolja, Inga and whoever else first and I'll guarantee your safety!” Doi explains. “I'll be in touch!” Jolly presses out and hangs up. FUCK, what a fucking asshole, Jolly thinks angrily. Doi's offer is tempting, insanely tempting. But he would be handing his life and Olivia's over to the yakuza. FUCK!!! Jolly needs to discuss this with Olivia and see what she thinks! “There's no way you're doing this!!!” Olivia is beside herself, “Let Doi handle this himself if he wants it bad enough. We'll take our new papers and get out of here! Preferably immediately..... Just get away from all this!” “Hmm,” Jolly nods thoughtfully. Olivia looks at him, stunned, “You're seriously thinking about this? Are you fucking serious?” “No.....” sighs Jolly, then looks at her, ”Yes.... If I'm honest, yes, I am thinking about it!”

“Have you gone completely mad now?” Olivia hisses, walking up to him and taking his face in both hands, ”Joakim... we can leave now... Please, let's just pack what we need and get out.... By the time those monsters realize that, we'll be out of the country and can start over.... That's what we want, a life together!” Jolly takes her hands in his, kisses them, “Yes, min Liv, that's what I want nothing more than anything else!” “But??” Olivia is despairing, “There is a but, isn't there?!” Jolly shrugs his shoulder, “They'll come after us.... Chasing.... Probably track us down eventually....” “No... we'll be careful. Inconspicuous....” Olivia hastily explains. “Min Liv.... I'm ripping you out of your life here anyway... and for an uncertain future full of danger and fear....” Jolly shakes his head. “I don't care about that! As long as we're together, we'll manage. We can do anything!” urges Olivia. “Liv....” Jolly shakes his head, “If I do this for Doi, we're protected. You're protected. Nothing will happen to you!” “Stop it... I don't care about Doi's protection!” hisses Olivia, ”This is all way too dangerous! If they catch you doing this or get suspicious... Joakim, they'd kill you on sight! That.... I wouldn't survive that!” “Liv... I know these people. They have connections everywhere... We'd be on the run for life... I don't want that for you!” explains Jolly.

“FUCK!!! Listen to me!!!” Olivia gets angry, “I don't give a fuck, as long as we're together!” Jolly shakes his head, “No... I have to make sure we're safe after this!” “GOD!” Olivia throws her hands in the air, “Let's just leave. Just like we planned! Please! Think about it carefully. We'd be at the mercy of Doi, the Yakuza, for the rest of our lives. Out of the frying pan into the fire, so to speak. That's not what you want, what we want!” “I'll sort it out with Doi!” nods Jolly slowly. Olivia stares at him, stunned, “So you've decided to do this?! Just like that? Even though I don't want you to?” “I have to do it, min Liv!” gulps Jolly. “NO, YOU DON'T HAVE TO!” she yells at him, punching him in the chest with her fist, causing him to stumble backwards in shock. Olivia continues to punch him, “YOU WILL NOT DO THAT! YOU'RE NOT RISKING YOUR LIFE TO THIS INSANITY JUST BECAUSE YOU THINK YOU HAVE TO DO IT TO PROTECT ME!” she screams at him, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Shhh, min Liv, shhh!” Jolly tries to calm her down and takes her in his arms. “NO, DON'T TOUCH ME!” cries Olivia angrily, ”IF YOU DON'T GO WITH ME NOW, THAT WILL LEAVE EVERYTHING BEHIND YOU.....” Olivia breaks off the sentence, looking at him in despair.

“Liv.....” Jolly swallows, ”Understand... If I kill Semjon, Inga, Kolja, then I can close this chapter in my shitty life. Close it for good and at the same time ensure our safety. I HAVE to do it! I HAVE to kill Semjon... I can't wait for him to die. He MUST die at my hands. I owe it to my family. I owe it to myself!” Olivia closes her eyes and lowers her head in despair, “And risk your life.....” she whispers harshly. “Not if I act fast!” Jolly shakes his head, grabbing Olivia's upper arms, ”Liv... I'm not going to die doing this. I know what I have to do. When to do it so I don't get caught doing it!” Olivia clings to him, “I can't lose you, do you hear me? I just can't. I'd die if I lost you!” she sobs. Jolly pulls her close, “You won't lose me, min Liv, I won't let you. YOU know you're my North Star, I'll always come back to you. Always! I can't help it!” he whispers tenderly. “God, Joakim....” sobs Olivia, ”I just don't want you to do this! Please.... Let's pack, let's go... away, just away!” “We will!” kisses Jolly her, ”When I get this done!” Olivia breaks free from his grip, shaking her head, “No!” she swallows, “Either we leave NOW, or....” again, she leaves the threat unspoken.

Jolly looks at her for a long time, “Well..... how fast can you pack?” he wants to know from her. “Um.....” Olivia looks around in surprise, “One day, then I'll have everything I need!” “Good, then I'll call Doi and ask for our papers!” nods Jolly. “Really?” Olivia looks at him questioningly. “Yes....” Jolly confirms and pulls her close again, ”Don't worry anymore, min Liv. We're going away!” Jolly promises and kisses her.

“If I take you up on that offer, I'll be left alone afterwards! Liv too?” Jolly wants to know from Doi. “Absolutely!” Doi assures him. “I'm not selling myself to the Yakuza.... Don't owe anyone anything anymore?” he continues, ”Me and Liv will be under your protection without me having to do anything else?” “Exactly like that! You'd be free, you wouldn't have to worry anymore. Neither about your safety, nor about money.... Not even your girlfriend!” Doi explains seriously, ”Even if I would like to have you with us... but that's just my modest wish.” “Wish....” growls Jolly.

“Yes, nothing more... don't worry!” smiles Doi. “Good...... I'll take care of Semjon, Inga and Kolja. That's all. Whoever else of his henchmen causes trouble is your problem! But it has to be done quickly, Liv mustn't find out about it!” explains Jolly. “Oh, she's against it?” Doi wants to know. “Of course she is!” growls Jolly. “And you're doing it anyway?” Doi follows up. “Yes.... Because I don't want to live in constant fear anymore and I want it even less for Liv!” explains Jolly calmly ”And I just have to do it... for me, my family, who died because of Semjon.....” “Good..... then our deal stands?” Doi wants to know seriously. “Our deal stands!” Jolly confirms.

When Jolly returns to Olivia's apartment, she is packing some of her books and photos into boxes. “Do you want to take them with you?” Jolly asks with a smile. “No.... But I thought I'd prepare everything so that it can be stored.....” Olivia shrugs her shoulders. “I'll make sure you can take everything that's important to you with you!” he explains seriously. Olivia furrows her brow. “I'll ask Doi to send these things after us, or everything.... As you like.” Jolly smiles. “You want Doi to send our things? Isn't that too dangerous?” Olivia wants to know. “Well, not right away... but it's certainly possible after a while!” says Jolly, who realizes that he has probably made a mistake. “Hmm” Olivia looks at him skeptically. “I have to go out again, do a little something!” Jolly explains quickly. “What?” Olivia wants to know. “Oleg's funeral.... I have to show up!” sighs Jolly. “Ok” nods Olivia. Jolly goes to her, pulls her up, wraps his arms around her, “It'll be over soon, tomorrow we'll meet Doi and then we'll get out of here!” he kisses her tenderly. “We're really doing this! Aren't we?” Olivia smiles and strokes his cheek. “We really are, min Liv!” Jolly nods and kisses her again.

The church is full. Wherever Jolly looks, he sees familiar faces. He has the feeling that EVERYONE has come to say a proper farewell to Oleg, who is lying in state in his coffin. Jolly joins the queue to step up to the coffin. As he stands in front of it, his face is petrified. Rot in hell, asshole, he thinks to himself hatefully. Soon Semjon will keep you company! When he turns around, he sees Nadja sitting in the front row, her face impenetrable. He nods at her, which she replies. As he is about to leave, he is stopped by Alexei, who has suddenly appeared next to him. “We need to talk!” he whispers quietly. “What about?” Jolly wants to know. “Not here!” Alexei shakes his head, ”Let's go outside!” Jolly nods and they leave the church together. “So, what do you want to talk about now?” Jolly wants to know outside. “Semjon.... He's not going to survive this, is he?” Alexei wants to know. “Probably not.....” Jolly shrugs his shoulder. “FUCK!” growls Alelxej, ”How is this supposed to go on then? With Kolja? Seriously? This is going to be a disaster! The Yakuza, especially Doi, are already pissed off to no end anyway.... Then let the Italians play along, our internal opponents.... FUCK!” Alexei nervously lights a cigarette. Jolly shrugs his shoulder, “Troubled times!” he nods. “TROUBLED? FUCK!” hisses Alexei. “This could be our downfall!” Calmly, Jolly eyes him, “Possible!” “FUCK... why are you so fucking calm?” growls Alexei at him. “What am I supposed to get upset about... it comes as it comes. Either we all go down or we don't... I don't care anymore!” Jolly explains calmly. “You're tired of life?” Alexei stares at him, speechless. “What have I got to lose? This fucking life?” Jolly shrugs his shoulders again and takes the cigarettes from Alexei, takes one for himself and lights it. They both smoke in silence. “Wouldn't Inga be the better choice instead of Kolja?” Alexei then wants to know. “Maybe?!” nods Jolly, ‘Or Nadja.......’ with downcast eyelids, Jolly looks unnoticed at Alexei, waiting for his reaction. “Nadja?!” Alexei snorts in amusement, but then becomes thoughtful, ”Fuck, you might even be right.... But most people wouldn't accept her... because she's a woman and not directly related to Semjon!” “Since when is the Russian mafia a monarchy?” Jolly wants to know sarcastically, ”Semjon wasn't related to the old head either... just the son of his right-hand man.... Just like Nadja, only she's a woman. A woman who knows how things work, who can act ruthlessly. She's also clever... really clever!” “You're right....” nods Alexei, ”But how?” “I don't know... like I said, I don't really give a shit!” sighs Jolly, satisfied to have sown the seed.

Jolly winds his way to Nadja through all the people who want to condole with her. He grabs her arm, bends down to her ear, “We HAVE to talk!” he whispers urgently. Nadja nods and says goodbye to the woman in front of her. Before the next man can shake her hand and hug her, she grabs her throat and sobs desperately, turning to Jolly and leaning against him. Jolly puts his arm around her and leads her through the people, who look at her sympathetically and sadly, to the back, to a quiet place in this church. “Sounds urgent!” nods Nadja, flapping back the veil she is wearing. “It is!” nods Jolly and looks around cautiously. Nadja, who interprets his look correctly, narrows her eyes, “Maybe somewhere else?” she wants to know from him. “No time!” Jolly shakes his head, grabs her upper arms, looks her straight in the eye, ”Can I trust you?” Nadja's eyes widen, “Didn't I prove it?” she wants to know from him. Jolly looks at her motionlessly, then nods, “Yes!” He looks around again, “But THIS.... That's another number!” he whispers. “What have you done?” Nadja wants to know. “Not much yet..... but actually.....” Jolly is unsure whether he should really tell Nadja everything. “FUCK, then talk! You can save your insinuations!” she hisses at him. “I'm in contact with Doi!” Jolly swallows. Nadja turns pale, “YOU gave the Yakuza access? Helped to free the Cuban?” “Yes!” Jolly nods and looks at Nadja seriously. “Why? I mean......” Nadja shakes her head in confusion. “Because it was a crap idea.... It would have sparked a ruthless war, dozens of deaths, even innocents.....” Jolly squeezes out. “But that's not the only reason, is it?” Nadja nods calmly. “No.....” Jolly shakes his head, ”I'm getting out!” Nadja turns a shade paler, “FUCK, Jolly......” she groans in horror, “You know that won't work!” “Yes it can.... But I have to kill Semjon, Inga and Kolja to do it!” he explains. Nadja has to hold on tight, “Are you mad??” she wants to know from him. “No... I have a plan that can succeed....” he shakes his head. “Do I want to know?” asks Nadja. “No! It's better you don't know anything....” Jolly shakes his head. “Then why the hell are you telling me everything?” Nadja hisses. “Because I suggested you to Doi as a successor.... And he finds the idea more than interesting!” Jolly nods and Nadja turns pale again. “ME?” she gasps. “Yes, that's what you've always wanted. Power, influence, no one telling you how to live your life. Nobody can tell you what to do!” Jolly explains calmly. Nadja looks at him thoughtfully. “You would have Doi's support and that of enough men in the organization!” Jolly explains calmly.

“FUCK” Nadja gasps, overwhelmed, and sits down on one of the pews. “Be ready..... keep a low profile, I'll do the rest!” Jolly nods and wants to leave, but Nadja grabs his hand. “And you? I mean.... You're really leaving?” Tears gleam in her eyes. “Yes, Nadja, I'm really going!” smiles Jolly, leaning over to her and kissing her on the forehead. Nadja wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him close. “I'm going to miss you terribly!” she swallows and lets go of him, nodding to him, ”Where are you going now?” “I'm going to pay Semjon a visit.....” growls Jolly and leaves the church. At the hospital, he nods to the two bodyguards outside Semjon's door before going in. As expected, Inga sits next to him and silently holds his hand; there is no sign of Kolja. Inga looks up briefly when she recognizes him, nods briefly and immediately turns back to Semjon.

Jolly pulls up a chair and sits down next to her. After a while, Inga starts to speak, “He reacts to me!” she swallows. “Hmm” nods Jolly, ‘Where's Kolja?’ he then wants to know. “I've sent him home. He should rest.... It's too much for him, you know!” “Hmm” grumbles Jolly, glad that Kolja is out of the way, ”What about you? Not tired?” “No! I'll stay by his side. He needs me!” Inga swallows soundlessly.

Fuck.... Jolly thinks to himself. But he knew that Inga wouldn't leave Semjon's side. “Shall I get you a coffee or something?” Jolly wants to know. “Oh” Inga looks up, ”Yes.... Alexei has provided everything I need here. But a coffee would be good.... But not here from the hospital, please....” That's what Jolly was hoping for, “Shall I send the men to your favorite cafe?” “Yes... God, yes.....” Inga nods gratefully and Jolly gets up, explaining to the bodyguards what Inga wants. After reassuring Inga that this is what she wants, they leave. Jolly closes the door behind her and sits down again. Waits..…

“Joakim....” Inga looks at him and Jolly flinches. Inga is the only one in the organization who doesn't call him Jolly or Swede. Hearing his real name, pronounced correctly, shocks him more than he would have thought. “Hmm,” Jolly looks at her. “I'd like to go to the bathroom for a minute.....” Inga looks at him. “Of course you would. I'm here!” nods Jolly and Inga stands up, smiling at him, ”I'm glad you're here. Semjon has always loved you like a son” Jolly gets sick to his stomach and screws up his face, looks at the floor and nods. Waits until the bathroom door closes behind Inga.

He needs a few seconds to be able to move again. But then everything happens in a flash, because Jolly has prepared everything. He pulls the syringe filled with air out of his jacket pocket, goes to Semjon and sticks it into one of the countless IV lines Semjon has on his body. Slowly presses the plunger down and injects the air into Semjon's veins. He then immediately throws the syringe into the waste garbage can provided and sits down again. His heart is pounding in his throat as he watches Semjon start to twitch. Fuck, this is happening faster than he thought. “INGA?!” Jolly calls out and presses the alarm button. Inga is with him immediately, staring in disbelief at her husband, who is twitching in his bed. The heart alarm goes off. “What's happened?” she gasps in horror. “I don't know... suddenly he started twitching!” Jolly shakes his head, ”I pressed the alarm!” It feels like hours until a nurse, followed by a doctor, rush into the room, immediately realizing the seriousness of the situation. “OUT!” the doctor yells and Jolly grabs Inga's shoulder, pulling her gently but firmly with him. “No... please....” whimpers Inga and Jolly remains standing with her in a corner of the room, unable to bring herself to pull her out of the room. Wordlessly, Jolly watches as more and more nurses and doctors come into the room, doing their best to save Semjon's cursed life... Hopeless. The beeping of the heart monitor's zero line is deafening. Inga collapses screaming in Jolly's arms, who holds her with a petrified expression on his face. This is for my parents, for Niclas, for Linnea.... And for me, you fucking bastard, Jolly thinks to himself.

It is late, very late, when Jolly can finally go home. He quietly unlocks the door to Olivia's apartment and goes into the living room without turning on the light. “What took you so long?” Jolly flinches as the soft voice echoes out of the darkness, ”I've tried to reach you on your cell phone umpteen times!” Olivia switches on the small lamp on the side table next to the couch and Jolly can see how exhausted she looks. “Semjon's dead!” mumbles Jolly, himself just as exhausted and wiped out as Olivia. Olivia is immediately on her feet, goes to him and takes him in her arms, “How do you feel?” she wants to know. Jolly wraps his arms around her, “I don't feel anything right now.... But when he was dead, relief... incredible relief!” he whispers harshly. “You were with him?” Olivia wants to know. “Hmm,” nods Jolly. Olivia looks at him penetratingly, Jolly tries to meet her gaze, but he narrows his eyes and lowers his head. “God......” Olivia swallows and lifts his chin so that he has to look at her, ”You killed him, didn't you?”

“I had to do it.....” Jolly whispers harshly, ”There was no other way.....” Olivia breaks away from him, “FUCK!!!” “Liv.....” Jolly tries to reach for her. “FUCK, No, Joakim!” Olivia shakes his hand off, “You lied to me!” “Liv, please.....” Jolly tries again.

“Please go!” whispers Olivia hoarsely. “Please, Liv, don't do this.....” Jolly swallows in horror, wants to hug her, but Olivia fends him off again. “Joakim, I need to be alone now! I need to think!” Olivia chokes out. “Liv.....” Jolly's voice is now just a horrified croak. “Please Joakim.... Just go!” Olivia shakes her head and wraps her arms around her torso, turning her head away from him. “Liv... I love you!” whispers Jolly softly, but Olivia closes her eyes, remaining silent.

Jolly turns and walks out of her apartment with dragging steps, pulling the door shut behind him. Damn..... He's done everything wrong, it occurs to him. He should either have told Olivia that he'd just have to kill Semjon, at least, or he shouldn't have made a deal with Doi. No matter how he spins it.... One thing remains... Olivia's trust in him is shaken and he may have lost her as a result. Jolly doesn't know how he feels. There is an incredible emptiness inside him, a blackness that threatens to swallow him up.

[makereadgrow]

It all started with a reddit post.

No it didn’t. It started when I was 5 and my mom handed me fabric and thread and buttons to keep me busy while she sewed. It started with the Christmas and Easter dresses my grandmother turned out every year without fail. It started with holding tapestries my other grandmother wove. It started with listening to my great-grandmother talk about the quilts city women paid her to finish for them and the rugs she wove on her floor. 

I’ve always said that I had textiles in the blood, as a genetic legacy. While only one of the women who came before me called herself an artist (my maternal grandmother) they all chose textiles as their medium. 

I made my first quilt in middle school, I think. My grandmother spent decades as purely a garment seamstress, working in a suit store and altering prom dresses on the side, sewing for herself and her loved one. She loved clothes and her huge basement was packed with everything she had made herself. She found herself seeking a new challenge. She’d avoided quilting (possibly because her mother was a quilter and they had a complex relationship) but she decided to give it a go. Her first quilt was a pinwheel, pieced by machine and then hand quilted while she recovered from a knee surgery. She let me quilt a block. I decided I’d make a quilt too, pinwheels the same as her. I didn’t have a book, or a pattern, or the internet and she wasn’t there when I started. I cut my triangles mostly by eye, with scissors, on the living room floor. They were big, maybe 10 inches. I sewed them up and wonky is the kindest word I could give them now, but I felt like a genius. I didn’t know you were supposed to quilt it before binding so I bound it, and pinned the layers together. I even quilted some of the squares. And then I slept with it, pinned together for roughly a decade. It was never fully quilted. It wasn’t long enough to cover both my shoulders and feet, but it was the perfect weight for a summer quilt. I wish I knew what had happened to it. 

My second quilt was a whole cloth quilt. I was in grad school. I had the internet, but I didn’t use it. I wanted something the same weight as the first quilt, but long enough to cover my feet. I bound it with satin blanket binding, and quilted a cross, one row up the length through the middle, and one row across the width. I did not read the directions on the batting about how far apart the quilting lines should be. It is now my son’s favorite blanket. It hasn’t fallen apart. 

I did a lot more learning (but not enough) and a lot of growing before I tried quilting again. By this time I was a parent and I had learned the value of measuring and rotary cutting. Again I’d make a pinwheel quilt. I learned how to make half square triangles four at a time. My grandmother passed either shortly before or after I started it and I think of her when I work on it. It took me a long time to make the blocks, it took me even longer to put them together. I thread basted it on the floor. I knew enough not to bind before quilting, but I hadn’t yet learned to start in the center of quilt. I worked around the edges and learned even more. I learned that if I quilt too much my hands hurt, I learned that my spouse will sleep under a quilt left on the couch even if it isn’t finished or bound. I eventually learned I should have started in the middle. I started it in 2019, its 2024 and I’m still slowly quilting the blocks. I bound it eventually because the edges were showing a lot of wear (because my spouse has been sleeping under it). Someday it will be done, but it makes me laugh to know that it is serving its purpose regardless, and has been for years. 

Another chapter in my quilting story. It was roughly 4am and I was sick. Hopped up on every medication known to humankind and scrolling through my phone. I stumbled across a video of someone stitching fabric wrapped around hexagons together by hand. Half a dozen videos later I was sitting at a computer printing out templates onto cardstock paper and digging through the remains of pandemic mask making fabric. I made a coaster, and then I made a pillow. Before I even made it past the fog of flu I started a hexagon quilt. I didn’t plan, but I kept a somewhat cohesive color story. 900+ hexagons later I had a finished quilt top, it took me about a year, and eventually I chose a backing and used my sewing machine to quilt it together, starting from the center working out, binding at the end. And that is the moment that I finally felt like a quilter. 

Its been a while since that night scrolling. I’ve made more quilts, large and small. Not a lot, but enough. I spend a lot of my down time thinking about quilts. When I’m quilting I think about those who came before me, I think about my grandmother’s hands. I think about how intrinsic quilting is to the place I grew up, all the hands that came before my grandmother, and her mother, and the lineage going back through the largely unrecorded history of poor women in rural Appalachia.  

Getting back to reddit. The other day I was scrolling through and was struck by this quilt posted on reddit by u/karenosmile. 

Classic and yet it is also intrinsically modern.Chaotic and random, but also a repeated pattern of the same simple block. It brought to mind quilts I’d seen while looking through museum collections online (which is a delightful activity for slow afternoons). I went back through my links and the collections again, looking at other examples of quilts that feature that classic ageless block - the half square triangle, also known as the HST. I wanted to know what made that quilt on reddit feel so modern.

The oldest quilt I found in my brief review that felt like it had the same feel as the reddit quilt was this quilt from the 1840s. It is orderly, but combining different sizes of half square triangles. I would not see this as old fashioned if I saw this quilt posted online tomorrow. 

The next quilt has been printed out and taped to my wall for months. It was made in 1898 by one Lura, for another Lura. Another lineage. This quilt only has one size of HST and they are orderly arranged to create strong diagonal lines of color across the quilt. 

Coming to the 20th century we have another quilt* that uses half square triangles of different sizes, however this one uses blocks of HSTs arranged and combined with large white triangles to form yet another larger HST. 

Ultimately I think the thing that sets the original reddit quilt apart is the scattered variety of block sizes and the seemingly random placement of the blocks. The varying size abandons the strict repetition of the museum pieces while maintaining the simple geometry of the block itself. 

*Link may not work as it is from Jstor

[beeandheroddobsessions]

Drop It!

Warnings: Supernatural elements. Dead!Elvis. Reader’s father is dead. Reader denotes elvis to his face. Dilapidated Graceland.

Summary: It’s move-in day! Reader spends the day fixing up the house. By the end of the night, she just wants to relax but something, or someone, needs to talk to her.

A/N: I am fully aware that graceland is cared for and not at all in ruin but the story calls for it. I put a lot of thought into this series and i really want everyone to enjoy it! The story is inspired by my house and what it’s like living here. though i’ve never come face to face with my goulish friends, i do respect them. A small bit, while comical, is something i actually did experience. Granted, i never spoke to anyone, or at least, never got an audible response. Most of this series includes odd happenings that i’ve dealt with. Isn’t that fun? Non-beliver or not, i hope you enjoy it. Happy reading- Bee💕

September 2023

The keys resting in your palms bring nothing but joy, even after dealing with a snippy mother and grumbling movers on an overcast Thursday afternoon. It should've been alarming, the way that realtor hightailed it off the property, but you were just glad to get your hands on what once was a beautiful home.

Graceland had nearly fallen to ruin; once the previous owner's legacy began to deteriorate, so did respect for the house. Squatters, Drug dealers, vandals, this house has seen it all. Yet, under all that muck and destruction, you saw a chance to restore its beauty.

Your mother was a bit...perturbed by the decision, wondering what she had done in your childhood that could've led to this point. When the idea was first pitched, she laughed it off, assuming it was another one of your odd bouts, like it was some fairytale. So imagine her surprise when you tossed the paperwork onto the breakfast table.

Your mother's concerns only doubled when she actually saw the house. Move-in day is supposed to be exciting, and for you, it is. Pushing past the doors into your new home is something magical. You don't know where to start. The kitchen? The front room? Upstairs? It's all so tempting.

"Mama, this place, it's so beautiful. Doesn't it jus' make you wanna cry?" You exclaim, unable to contain the excitement rushing through your body.

"...That's...well, that's one way to put it." your mother says, watching for possible loose beams as you traverse through the house.

You kiss your teeth at her tone and begin rattling on about your ideas for the space.

"I can fix her up in no time. We can start with the walls; they only need a few patches and a fresh coat a' paint. Oh! And then we can work on the floors. And I'm sure we can find some replicas or have 'em made. I think-"

"Y/n!" your mother interrupts, "Rome wasn't built in a day, baby. Don't get too ahead of yourself. You already broke the bank buyin' this...place and-"

You shake your head "Mama, don't you know who used to live here? Daddy woulda-"

The older woman before you holds up her hand, face dropping into an unamused expression. "Don't compare me to your daddy; we never did have the same tastes. And of course, I know; Elvis was my crush before you were even thought of."

You tilt your head, shifting to move a box. "But you just said you n' daddy didn’t have the same-"

She cuts you off before you can finish your thought. "Hush up and listen to your mama." A chuckle leaves your mouth as she scolds you.

"After all this time, daddy still can't catch a break?"

Your mother lets out a saddened sigh, "Well, he may not be here physically, but pokin' fun at him is the only way I know he's still around."

Your shoulders drop, and you set the box down. Your father passed away six years ago; he didn't want his family knowing he was sick. You thought it was a cruel joke, some twisted prank set to traumatize you forever. The wails your mother let out that night on the kitchen floor told you otherwise. She tries to pretend but hasn't been the same since—the idea of remarrying tossed to the wind like a dandelion's pappi.

"Mama, don't you think daddy would've wanted you to let him go?" you lament, hoping your mother would consider it this time. But, alas, the notion is shot down once again.

"You may not believe in ghosts or the afterlife, y/n, but I do. Your daddy is always with me. It wouldn't be right to get hitched in his face."

You shrug and continue unpacking, "If you say so mama, I jus couldn't imagine stickin' it out till the very end." That statement seems to tickle your mama pink. "You ain't never been in love, sugar pie. When you meet your mister right, you'll know what I mean."

You purse your lips. Even while talking about her dead husband, she hints at your sad love life. To you, love is just a feeling, and the dead are just that, dead. So your mother's musings about 'ghosts' and 'true loves' are nothing short of fantasy in your world.

"O...kay. Well, we've got a lot to do, and we've been talkin' bout nothin' for ten whole minutes. Let's hop to it!"

Your mother rolls her eyes, "This ain't my dream house, honey. I ain't GOT to do nothin' but stay black and die."

"Oh, here you go with that mess. You agreed to help your only baby move in so that I wouldn't 'die in my sleep cause some spider decided to munch on me,' so don't give me none of that." You mock.

Your mother pops your arm and grabs a broom. "You yo' daddy's daughter, alright. Couldn't have got that mouth from me." She mutters.

For the next four hours, the two of you dispose of odd findings, scrub, wash, disinfect, and grumble through the house. By the time you finish, the home is as clean as clean gets. The sun has set, and all you want to do is eat and sleep. The last thing to set up is the bedroom.

You feel a little strange sleeping in a room that once belonged to such a legend, but he isn't here, and the house belongs to you. The wall of TVs would be dealt with later. For now, a flatscreen was simply placed in front of them; aside from that, you pre-ordered replicas of the bedroom furniture, not wanting to personalize too much.

After kissing your mother goodbye, you trudge up the stairs, stopping halfway to crack your back. Once you return to the master suite, flopping on the bed only seems fitting. A groan escapes you as you realize you still need to shower. Rolling over, you grab a towel from your suitcase, lay out some pajamas on the center of the bed, and head for the bathroom.

While waiting for the water to warm, perched on the porcelain throne, the lights flicker. You'll need to replace the bulbs later; simple fix.

When the water reaches hell, you waste no time jumping in. It soothes your aching body, and all of the tension from today washes down the drain. You hum a nonsensical tune to keep you entertained while you clean away the dirt and grime. In the middle of the improvised song, a crash steals your attention.

You finish rinsing and shut off the water, quickly making your way to the bedroom door. You aren't going to investigate; too bright (or too experienced in the horror genre) to even give that a thought. No, you lock the door and mind your business; that is a morning problem.

When you turn back to retrieve your nightwear, you find them on a chair in the corner of the room. Odd. You could've sworn you left them in the middle of the bed. Whatever, you think as you throw them on.

Plopping down on the edge of the bed, you grab the remote and turn the TV on—finally, a moment of peace. You flick through Netflix, desperate to find good background noise. Landing on your favorite show, 'The Good Place,' is enough for you. It's ironic, don't believe in anything after death, or love, and here you are, watching two dead people fall in love.

Halfway through Episode six, the source of entertainment shuts off. You huff; it was getting good too. The remote is behind you, out of reach, so you aren't exactly sure what could've caused this.

"Probably just a glitch," you mumble, turning the TV back on and resuming your minor addiction. This time, you place the remote on the dresser, ensuring no interruptions.

Despite your effort, it happens again; A guttural noise leaves your body. You're broke in a house that's falling apart with no man, pets, and no energy. TV is the one pleasure you have left, and even that is beginning to frustrate you.

Repeating the process, you hold the remote in your hands, eyebrows raised, daring your peace to try and leave again. After a few moments, you sigh in relief as the halfway point passes and set the remote down. As soon as it comes in contact with the plush, black comforter, the TV again fails you.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." You exclaim.

"Ladies shouldn't swear; ain't attractive." A voice bellows from behind you. A shrill shriek is all that is heard as you scramble off the bed. Your eyes search for the source but find nothing. Slowly, you creep toward the bed and snatch up the remote. "Can't go downstairs till morning, and I'm losin' it in here. What a night." You whisper.

A shiver rolls through your body, and you decide it's better to sit on the floor. Again you try with your tv (which you will be returning in the morning), and of course, that doesn't last long.

"Sugarpie, I don't wanna see that junk. If you're gon' watch somethin' in my bed, I suggest it be somethin' good. Not some trash show that don't know the first thing bout bein' dead." The strange voice booms again.

This time when you jump out of your skin and turn to face the intruder, you see what you can only assume to be the world's most accurate Elvis impersonator.

"What the hell are you doin' in my house?!" You screech, "Get out! Get the hell out."

The man before you is nowhere near ready for the projectiles flying his way. Clothes, shoes, books, and a stuffed bear. You name it; it's flying at his head.

"Hey! I—I said—, goddamn! You got an arm on ya! Put the—,"

Elvis can't even finish his sentence as you continue to fling whatever you can at him.

"Get. Out. Of. My. House!" You grunt, each word punctuated with the throw of an object. The tall, blue-eyed stranger ducks and dodges with precision, but when he sees you getting ready to toss a picture frame, one you no doubt failed to realize the importance of in your defensive state, the fun and games stop.

"Drop it! Drop that damn picture right now! Your mama would tan your hide for days if she saw that you broke that frame." Elvis booms.

Your chest is heaving, and you blink, glancing over at the photo.

"S'your daddy, right? Y'all were talkin' in the kitchen bout how it's the last thing he gave ya. You promised ta take care of it. So drop it."

You nod and gently place the photo on the bed, reaching for a good substitute.

"Jus—Just how long have you been here?" you question, ready to launch the lamp in your hand. Elvis ponders for a moment. "What year is it?" He asks, seeming genuine. You quirk an eyebrow, unamused with the game he's playing. "You can't be serious."

He looks at you expectantly, waiting for an actual answer. Your phone is across the room, and the chances of getting past this psycho-wannabe Elvis are slim to none. So, you entertain him. "It's twenty-twenty-three, you should know that." You say, face stoic.

Elvis's eyes widen, "Twenty- Good lord!" He chuckles in disbelief.

"Well, to answer your question lil' mama, if that's true, I've been here for sixty-six years if you're countin' when I bought the house."

You shake your head; there's no way the idiot in front of you is this dedicated. "Yeah, sure, I reckon you want me to believe you're Elvis Presley himself. Is that what this is? Some attempt to scare me?"

Elvis chuckles and shakes his head, "No, ma'am. Ain't no pretendin' round here. I'm the real deal."

You can't help the cackle that slips past your lips.

"My ass!"

Elvis's smirk fades, "I told ya that shit isn't cute. And if ya don't believe me, try to shake my hand." He says, extending the appendage forward.

You scrunch your nose, "Now, why would I do that?"

He shrugs, hand still held out.

"Well, I ain't goin' nowhere for a long time n' you're the first person to see or hear me in ages. Whether ya do or don't, it really ain't too concernin' for me."

You sigh, knowing this is how dumb girls in movies usually meet their end. Can't believe m'doin' this. Shakily, you extend your hand, and when it meets his, it goes right through. You gasp as the limb turns to smoke before materializing again.

"Sweet jesus," you sputter.

"I wouldn't know if he was sweet, I ain't met him yet." Elvis jokes. You back away, very spooked.

"T-This, this isn't possible. Ghosts they—they aren't-"

"Real?" Elvis cuts you off, "Yeah, I heard that part too, jus didn't wanna scare your mama, so I waited till it was jus you n' me."

You scoff, offended, "My mama gets a pass, and I don't?"

He chuckles and sits on the bed, "She believed, you didn't. For someone with a gift this great, ya sure do love ta act like ya don't know what she's talkin' about."

You fold your arms, looking down, "I don't have-"

"Oh, yes ya do. Don't give me none of that. I spent the whole afternoon chit-chattin' with your old man. "

Your head snaps up, eyes meeting his. "You spoke to my daddy? How is he? Did he ask bout mama? Because she'd be thrilled. I gave up. I knew I shouldn't have. I'd been tryin' to reach him since he died, but he never-" The smug look on Elvis's face shuts you up.

"Well, first off. Why would ya need to call a man who's in the same house as ya? Second, you'd been tryin' so hard to find happiness for a woman who don't need it, that ya pushed your daddy away anytime he tried. A ghost can only do so much without scarin' someone half to death, baby."

This is all too much; Ghosts exist, Elvis Presley is in front of you, and your daddy hasn't moved on. Mama was right. You lift the covers and shimmy under them.

"I need to sleep on this. Jus—I...I don't know where you go, but scram for the night please."

Elvis chuckles, nodding. In a flash, he evaporates, fumes left behind as he finds another room to settle in.

You breathe through your nose as you think. What a night indeed, miss y/n.

Taglist: @prayerstopresley @powerofelvis @re3kin

[wildcreativemastermind]

Star Wars Fic Prompts: Sith Temples

I've read a fair amount of Star Wars fanfiction, and a decently common thing to see in them is a Sith Temple. They tend to be used as a way to change the characters in some way, sometimes it works and sometimes I'm sitting there thinking "yeah no, the Sith would never make something that would have an effect like that." This post is basically like a mix of prompts and advice for handling Sith Temples in fics.

Note: I primarily focus on Lucas canon, that will effect what I say, though I also play KOTOR1 and 2 as well as SWTOR, and I like some of the stuff they've done with the Sith, so I'll borrow things from them for this too.

We know why the Jedi Temple exists and what it's used for, but think what the Sith would use a temple for. This is where people usually go wrong, they want a particular thing to happen but don't consider if the Sith would fit with what they want.

Perhaps they also use it as a living space and training academy, though it would never be safe. At their safest everyone inside would have to sleep with one eye open.

They would also likely use it to solidify themselves more into the dark side, think meditation to make themselves angrier (so like anti-meditation), murdering loved ones, torturing people, etc. There is no kindness to find among the Sith, and the only thing one will learn is how monstrous people can be.

Of course, a main thing we see Sith do is attempt to corrupt Jedi, turn them to the dark side. So there may be things in the temple to help with that, or to do it when the Sith aren't there (whether the Sith set that up out of laziness or as a lasting legacy is up to you).

Even if the temple is just a ruin in the fic, what it was used for should affect what it is like and what can happen in it.

Fic Prompts

Inside a Sith Temple, a Jedi is teleported to an alternate reality where they are a powerful Sith (whether they're genuinely teleported to another universe or it's a vision or illusion is up to you). They can only get back to reality by falling to dark side or overcoming it, though there would be effort from the Temple to prevent them from doing the latter. For bonus points on this one, any non Jedi with them is teleported as well (part of the corruption could be trying to convince the Jedi to kill, torture, or enslave them).

one or more characters are stranded inside a Sith Temple, people who are in this temple for to long go insane, they have to get out before they lose their minds (or they can be stuck and lose their minds if that's what you want to do)

a force sensitive clone (who doesn't know they're force sensitive) enters a Sith Temple with their Jedi and some other clones. The temple tries to corrupt the Jedi and treats his brothers like objects. What this clone doesn't understand is why the temple tries to corrupt him too (you could also use a Sith holocron for this)

after spending time in a Sith temple, the characters suffer from especially vivid nightmares where they commit heinous acts, how do they deal with this? are they just nightmares or are they real actions?

a character who may have had a romanticised view (basically anything that isn't extremely evil) of the Sith enters a Sith temple, and they are confronted by the reality of what Sith are like

a character enters a seemingly normal building, they don't understand why it's so cold inside despite the heat and the lack of AC units

a Jedi (who is either inside a Sith temple or has recently come out of one) is getting increasingly paranoid and/or distrustful about everyone around them

feel free to add more prompts to this! and feel free to use these in a fic if you want to

[renaultmograine]

I'm just saying adding that it is something Blizzard does often, that is have a character do terrible awful things and than be presented as a saintly neutral quest giver that has done nothing wrong.

You know, I see where you're coming from, but I have to disagree on it. When we take quests from, say, Illidan in Legion, the narrative has already gone through all of Illidan's history and addressed them. Maiev has had the narrative address her history (loosely, in terms of Wolfheart, but they have acknowledged that book again). Jaina is a shining example of literally always having to pay her karmic debts.

The narrative does not acknowledge that the Red Dragonflight, the protectors of life, kill and magically alter unborn children. In Cataclysm, a red dragon is experimenting on the black dragonflight so that they can have a purified black dragon that they could keep as a slave. This is deemed as okay, because the blacks are crazy anyway, and you go and help this red dragon who basically goes "don't judge me on this it's important" as you beat an enslaved mother into submission and steal her children from her to experiment on. This is something Deathwing does later on the reds, and it's largely considered a bad thing to have done.

So what happens in Dragonflight, a dragon focused expansion where Wrathion, the victim of the red flight's meddling, who narrowly avoided being a slave to the red flight after they murdered his mother and killed all his siblings? Alexstrasza insults and belittles him for wanting to reconnect with his ancestry, repeatedly, one time right after he saved her life and was just politely asking her for aid (you know because the black dragonflight was driven to near extinction). All Wrathion gets to do is look annoyed at her in the cutscene and leave, and from then on we see him, Sabellian, and Ebyssian all try and kowtow to her as she insults their family and them for wanting to take up the good and noble parts of the black flight's legacy.

Yes, Horde and Alliance members have bickered between each other, but this is the queen of dragons, the protector of all life, and here she is belittling the few remaining victims of the Old God's plot and spitting on everything they do.

That's not even mentioning the other shit that happens to children. In Dragonflight, like was said earlier, you're immediately smashing and killing the whelps inside of eggs for having the audacity to be changed with elemental magic. There's no mercy for them, there's no trying to save them with the magic aqueducts of order magic, there's just smash smash smash and you go onto the next one. In Wrath, we smash blue dragon eggs that were just there (you know the blue dragons live there) because the reds wanted us to. These were not combatants in the war. That was a blatant attack on a decimated flight meant to wound Malygos, just as killing his mate and dragging her corpse around to insult him was.

One of Garrosh's crimes was being associated with the Dragonmaw clan, as they enslaved the red dragons before (reminder, Garrosh wasn't even on the planet when this happened). Alexstrasza gives this testimony about how horrible and cruel it was in her time enslaved by the Dragonmaw, but that she forgives all those orcs, because she just loves life so much. Never once is it mentioned that the red dragonflight has done worse things themselves, and that Alexstrasza either gave the order for it or was complicit in it the entire time. Never once has the narrative ever addressed this past occasionally going "Wrathion doesn't really like Alexstrasza" which is the most mild aspect out of all of this.

Magni was never presented as saintly. In Before the Storm, Sylvanas makes a point about how she doesn't trust him because he's still a dwarf and (IIRC) Baine tells her that. well. he is a rock now. Repeatedly his mistakes with his daughter were mentioned—The Shattering, Before the Storm, BFA, off the top of my head—and the narrative does go "Hey, this character is flawed." Yeah, maybe they didn't specifically address the fact that Magni okayed a dig site on tauren land, but that's kind of comparing apples to child murder imo. The most Alexstrasza gets dinged on is Vyranoth going "I thought it was fucked up that you helped the Titans corrupt and change my children" and she STILL joins team Titan at the end of the day. Alexstrasza faces no real repercussions for her actions on this past she lost some friends twenty thousand years ago in a book no one seemed to want to read.

That's why I harp on how the narrative presents Alexstrasza so much.