#mayhaps its because journey is my favorite however

[jade-gemstone]

Now, if all the characters in @dr-akeda-amuesments were put into the hunger games, the winner would NOT be Shigeo. It would be Journey. Shigeo seems like the answer but he is a SIMP who is EASILY DISTRACTED and Journey would win I feel it in my bones.

[edgeray]

mygod that siren Arlecchino fic you did is *chef's kiss* IMMACULATE!!! might i request a continuation, mayhaps? Arle mentioned that she'd follow the reader as they sail, so maybe she misses them and either tries to climb onto the boat or the pier where they're docked to see them again? either hurt/comfort or fluff, the rest is up to you!!! love your work and thank you for fueling my Arlecchino obsession :] also i might pop back in here once in a while, may i be moth anon?

The Sea's Calling Pt. 2

(Arlecchino x Fem! Reader)

A/N - Part 1 link here. Yes, you definitely can be a moth anon! Hi :D. I already added you to the anon list. To other anons that have requested and I haven't gotten to, I do see your requests and if you gave yourself an emoji/name I already added you ^^. Anyways, back to moth anon. <333 I'm so glad you enjoyed my siren Arlecchino fic! As my first request I was kind of nervous about it but I'm glad that you enjoy! I'm also really glad that you sent this request! I did always want to write a part 2 but didn't have the opportunity until now. Thanks moth anon, for the reuqest and for enjoying my works!!  If you couldn't tell, I love the idea of found family pirates. One Piece did this to me. The ending turned out to be self-indulgent, forgive me moth anon ;) Even though it's short, this ended up being one of my favorites. Hope you like this one! Content warnings / info - monster x human, arle is ooc bc she's a siren, fem! reader bc pt.1 has fem! reader, suggestive at the end, 1.2k words

You used to think that the most beautiful thing out there was the sky and its stars–to you, nothing was more mesmerizing than them. They are so alluring despite holding this mystique, and they've guided humans on their naval journeys and inspired all kinds of stories of their origins. The stars were all that kept you company, even on the lonliest and coldest nights.

Now, however, the stars aren't your only company. 

“Guys, I'm going to go back to the ship. Don't wait up on me too much,” you to your fellow pirates as you stand up from the stool. You drop off some extra coins on the baa counter, in order to compensate for the plate that you will be ‘borrowing.’ You pick up the plate of your half-eaten slice of meat pie and sandwich and head towards the exit before one of your crew mates stops you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Turning in already? C'mon, stay a little bit. We've got enough money for a few more rounds of beer,” he says with a boisterous laugh. You chuckle lightly but shake your head. 

“No can do, sorry. Got something to do.”

“Uh huh, like your little siren girlfriend?” Another crew member states, her teasing smile widening as you flush. 

“One more? Jackie hasn't finished his story!”

“Let the darned woman go see her darn girlfriend, Goldie,” another gruffed with a shake of his head. 

“Fine, fine, go on ahead. Tch, when will I get my own smoking hot siren girl?” Goldie huffs, and you snort. Likely never, but you don't tell him that.  

“Thanks, I'll be back,” is all you say before rushing out of the door, nearly tipping over the plate before you balance it again. You wave them off and you make your way back to the docks. The walk is both short and long, and each step you take is filled with the excitement that buzzes through you. 

Even after these months, being able to spend time with her feels like bliss, like you have just found treasure. Sometimes, you forget she's a siren, she's ever so endearing and follows you around like a puppy. Oftentimes, when you're on the boat, you talk to her as she lingers by. The night after you first met the siren your crew had banned you from jumping into the waters because you had developed a cold which infected a good chunk of the crew; the cold wasn't severe for anyone but still. Since you can't be in the water, you often just talk to her from the railings and she answers. 

It's only when you're docked when you can finally touch her, but those times come rare. It can take days, sometimes weeks to reach an island to dock at, but when you do, you always take the time to sit by the shore. 

Finally, you arrive at the pier. “Arle?” You call out, and you see a ripple in the water. Grinning, you walk to the ends of one of the docks, setting down the plate a bit away from you. You remove your shoes and set them far away. Perching on the dock, your feet dip into the cold waters and you shiver.

You see something gleam in the corner of your eyes, the familiar shine of her scales. You then remember the food, and you start. “Wait, Arle don't splash–”

Too late. Something erupts from the waters and launches into you, a cold, heavy weight thrusting into your body making you tumble on your back on the dock. Pressed between the wooden planks and the creature that straddles you, you can't help but laugh and raise your hand up to her face, the now drenched food forgotten entirely. 

“Hey gorgeous,” you say as you stroke her cheek gently. She's the most beautiful treasure that you found among the seas. Arlecchino gazes down on you, her red pupils glistering as her arms wrap around your torso. She purrs, little fangs apparent as the tip of her tongue peeks out with her open-mouth smile. 

“Missed you,” is the first thing she says, before she leans her body against you, nuzzling her face into your neck. Your clothes get soaked from her, but you pay no mind. You stroke her wet hair, carding your fingers through her strands before kissing the top of her head. 

“I missed you too. Did you eat recently?” 

Sometimes she'd disappear for a few nights to search for another wandering ship for her meals but she never fails to find your ship again. You haven't seen her for a couple days before you docked her. 

Arlecchino nods. “Human food?” She questions. Her tail flicks, thumping against the wood out of eagerness. Although she enjoys the taste of cooked meats, beef especially, you don't believe it's as nutrition dense as… well, the main source of her diet, and it's hard to serve her cooked meat while on sea due to the issue of storing meat on ships. So, cooked meat has always been a treat for her. 

You nod. “You want to try?” 

She lets out an affirmative purr, and you help her sit upright in your lap. It's always a bit difficult considering she has a tail instead of legs, but she maneuvers her tail to encircle your waist, and you support her back with one of your arms. You silently mourn for your now soggy sandwich as you reach for the plate, using her tail as a flat surface. 

“What is it?” 

“Meat pie and a sandwich.” You take the fork and dig out the meat from the meat pie. Balancing the tender piece of beef on your utensil, you carefully guide it to her mouth. 

“Careful, it's hot. And don't bite the fork this time,” you gently warn her as she eats it. She squirms a bit in your lap, an indicator that she's pleased with the taste. 

“More?” You chuckle, adoring the cute plea in her eyes. 

You scrape out more of the meat until she's eaten all of the pie filling, leaving you to eat the pie crust. You're still peckish, so you start eating your sandwich, but not before fishing out the thick slice of ham from it, and giving it to her. If it meant you could watch the way her expression lights up again forever, then you would endlessly eat ham-less sandwiches and savor every cheese and vegetables sandwiched in between wet bread. 

“Did you like it?” You ask in between chews as she leans her head against your shoulder. She nods, and leans up again to place featherlight kisses on your neck. With the cold droplets of water and her frigid lips, it tickles you and you giggle. So adorable. 

You freeze up when you feel her fangs prick your skin and she looks up to you for permission. Another mating bite? You nod, wordlessly giving her permission, and you suck in a harsh breath as you feel her teeth sink in. Purrs vibrate coarse through her mouth as she pulls away, lapping at the mark and the texture of her tongue invokes a throaty groan from you, your body trembling with pleasure. 

Arlecchino leans away, but in her eyes, hunger burns in them. Her hands take purchase on your hips and she pushes your back against the planks. Her tail unwinds around your torso and instead coils around your ankles, securing them together.  

“H-here?” You question, flushing. Her hands wander lower, the sharp nails trailing lower to your thighs, where faint scratches scatter. 

The night that you first met her, she sang so beautifully for you. Tonight, you repay her back, singing out her name so tastefully. 

[bigprincess-energy]

Prompt mayhaps for the holidays? Where Persephone makes everyone wear the matching pajamas maybe?

So this is a Holiday prompt for literal literary queen @acequeenking. She is a master wordcraft and also just a super lovely human!! We were joking in a chat that Orpheus still believes in Santa, and while this started as a joke it turned into a very tender piece? However Hades also dresses up as Santa, so like, there are moments of comedy.

--

Winter nights at Hermes bar were often desolate. Traditionally barstools stood quietly during the winter months, their only occupants the families of dust bunnies made their home on the surface. However tonight there was an unusual rush, a swarm of people, old faces and new faces had flocked to the bar to avoid the oncoming winter storm. Returning home from her shift, Eurydice slumped her backpack and coat off of her shoulders, the items falling to the floor with an unceremonious thud before she collapsed into one of the well worn reading chairs tucked into the corner of the young couple’s home. In her state of exhaustion the young girl had failed to notice the dinky tree branch propped up against the rightmost side of the fireplace with care.

“Orpheus?” Eurydice called out, suddenly far more alert as she sat up in the chair, eyes locked on the plant. Had Persephone sent them yet another plant? Eurydice wasn’t sure what to call it, it wasn’t tall enough to be a tree, not full enough to be a bush. If she was asked to describe it Eurydice would have categorized it as sad. Eurydice also couldn’t piece together where it had come from because it lacked the normal trademark elements of a Persephone plant. There was no decorative pot, no note, and most of all the poor thing looked like it was on the brink of death, if not dead already. 

Orpheus peaked his head out from the thin wall that separates the kitchen from the main room of the house. The first thing Eurydice noticed about her husband is that he was grinning like a child. She made a mental note to ask him what good thing had happened today, maybe he had finished a song, but first, there was the pitiful plant to deal with.   

“What’s this and why is it in our house?” The girl questioned, gesturing at the branch. Orpheus made his way across the room, his long, slender legs taking him to his wife in just a few steps. In his arms, he held firewood, which he knelt to the ground and set in a tidy pile opposite to the mystery plant. 

“It’s our Christmas tree!” Orpheus explained, his expression beaming with pride as he looked up at Eurydice. His answer only caused more questions to flood her mind, trying to make sense of the scene before her. 

“Okay first off, that is not a tree. On its best day it’s a branch, and today isn’t its best day. Secondly, trees go outside loverboy, not inside. Third, you didn’t answer the why part of my question.” Eurydice reached out to gently ruffle Orpheus’ hair before running her fingers down to his jawline and coaxing him up to her lips for a kiss. She hoped this act of tenderness would soften the blow of her response, which she realized might have been a little harsh. 

Orpheus’ excitement didn’t waiver at her commentary however, instead, his face seemed to glow even brighter. “It is our Christmas branch then! It is a little skimpy, huh…” the boy paused for a moment, blushing while he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “But see you decorate the tree - er, branch, and then at midnight Santa comes and brings gifts! It is a tradition Mister Hermes taught me about, we would decorate a tree and I would try to stay up, to see Santa and say thank you, but somehow I always fall asleep before he comes. I thought this year we could decorate our own!”

“We bring a tree inside and then a stranger comes into our home and gives us free things?” Eurydice probed again, cocking an eyebrow. The more her poet tried to explain the situation the more confused she found herself. Rather than dig herself deeper into this hole, she opted to give herself over to Orpheus and his fun. His excitement was addictive. Not to mention he looked adorable sitting on the floor, wide eyes twinkling with hope. “Oh never mind all that. What do we have to decorate with?” 

***

“Hades, you have to put on the suit,” Persephone huffed, taking a seat on the edge of their bed. In her hands, she held a stunning pair of trousers and thick outer coat crafted out of crimson velvet and white mink’s fur. The springtime goddess was frustrated with her husband, it was a rare occasion when she requested anything from him. Today she wanted one small favour, a gift really for the poor boy who had saved their marriage and brought the world back into tune, and he was refusing. “Don’t do it for me, you owe me nothing. Do it for Orpheus, the person you owe everything.”

“He’s too old to believe in this, why should we indulge him?” Hades shot back, his arms crossed against his chest, eyes flickering between the costume in his wife’s lap and her cold glare.

“Hades, you know why he believes,” Persephone said softly, her long elegant fingers caressing the velvet of the suit. “Hermes was going to tell him, and then his mother…” She trailed off, ending her sentence with a faint sigh. “Hermes never told him because it gave him something to believe in, something to hold onto during the darkest time of year. Orpheus is the person he is today because he believes in magic, and whimsy, and love. It is that belief that helped him find the courage to journey down to Hadestown. He believed, and that belief not only saved that girl, but it also saved us Hades.”

“That girl, she is too logical to play into this fantasy of his. I suppose the fantasy is your’s and Hermes’ as well at this point,” the king rolled his eyes, pressing his index and middle finger to the bridge of his nose as if to stop a migraine caused by this conversation. Hades walked over to his wife, sitting with defeat next to her. He placed his hand atop hers, fingertips gently grazing the fabric. “I’ll do it, this year. But please, someone has to tell that young man the truth, one day.” 

“Yes, one day someone will, but today is not that day,” Persephone smiled, shifting the clothing from her lap to Hades. “Thank you, husband. From me, from Hermes, and from those children,” She reached up and caressed his cheek, coaxing a smile out of the hardened god. “Now, I set their gifts inside my springtime tote. Come along now, you need to get dressed and we need to step onto the train. Midnight is nearing.” 

***

Despite her earlier exhaustion, Eurydice had thoroughly enjoyed decorating the Christmas branch with Orpheus. Never before had she taken a moment in time to make something intentionally pretty with the only purpose of the task to enjoy the beauty of it. Her life was always practical, straight to the point, pretty had to serve a purpose, to aid her in survival. Once or twice she had prettied herself, to manipulate a meal or find a warm bed to fall into on a winter’s eve much like tonight, but the act of decorating tonight was unfamiliar. 

What had started as a barren tree branch now had life breathed into it. Photos tied up with string of the couple’s loved ones; Hermes with his all-knowing smile behind the bar, Persephone with a bouquet of flowers larger than her head, and of course the young couple themselves too enamored with each other to even notice the camera flash. Each photograph told stories of laughter and springtime sunshine as they hung from the branches. 

While they didn’t have much in the realm of sparkling things, no gold or silver, looking at their tree, it was obvious that they had each other and an abundance of love. Eurydice smiled to herself as she looked over the photographs, reminded that it was Orpheus’ love for her that made the existence of each of the photographs possible. His faith in their love had saved her and saved the world. What greater gift could she ask for than that? 

Once the decorating was complete and Orpheus topped the branch with a homemade star crafted out of old strings from his lyre, the couple settled into each other. Cuddled up in front of the hearth Orpheus laid with his head in Eurydice’s lap the two of them sharing favorite memories from the previous spring. Her fingers gently raked through his chestnut brown hair, occasionally stopping to twist a lock around her finger. The conversation slowed and the young girl could tell by the slowing of her lover’s breathing he was starting to fall asleep. It was traditionally at this point where they would stir, collect themselves and migrate to their bed for the evening. However tonight, the dim glow of the fire and sweet scent of pine enchanted Eurydice. There was some magic about their Christmas branch that made her want to look at it forever. 

Behind her, a floorboard creaked. Now Eurydice was used to the sounds their old home made in the night, but this was not the bellyaching of the ancient flooring. Whipping her head around the young girl was met with a sight that caused her to nearly burst out into laughter, but she quickly covered her mouth with her hands to stifle the sound and prevent waking Orpheus. There was Hades, the terrifying king of the dead and the underworld, standing in her living room in the most ridiculous costume Eurydice had ever seen. He was dressed from head to toe in red and white, with even a matching hat. Once the man had instilled great fear in the young girl, his powerful presence terrifying enough to send a chill down her spine. Now he looked almost jolly, ignoring the cold, dark glare in his eyes. Behind him stood Persephone, her giant smile bright enough to put the sun to shame. 

The goddess placed a finger to her lips, telling Eurydice to remain quiet as to not wake the sleeping poet. The older couple crept over, stepping with great care to avoid making any additional noise. “Not much of a tree,” Hades whispered as he gestured for Persephone to open her bag. 

“That’s what I said,” Eurydice half whispered half giggled in response, still not over the fact that the god was truly pretending to be Santa for Orpheus’ sake. 

“Well I think it is lovely sunflower, you two did a beautiful job decorating her, though do put her in some water, she’ll perk up,” Persephone murmured, reaching out to touch the plant. Even at just the briefest of contact with the goddess, the branch appeared to stand a little taller and the colouring a little more vibrant. 

As Hades placed the last gift under the branch, Persephone reached out and took Eurydice’s hand. “Do not let him stop believing, his faith saved us all. Merry Christmas Eurydice, until springtime,” she whispered her goodbyes, pressing a kiss onto the younger girl’s knuckles. Eurydice nodded in understanding of what the goddess had said to her, the three of them owed everything to her poet and his belief in seeing the world the way it could be. A world full of blooming flowers, of magic, of love. 

Just as the couple was closing the door behind themselves, Orpheus began to stir in Eurydice’s lap. She looked down at the boy, hair fluffed out in all directions. “Santa?” He yawned, voice thick with sleep.

“You just missed him, lover,” Eurydice mused quietly, stroking Orpheus’ cheek with her index finger.  Even in the limited lighting, she could see the disappointed pout forming on her husband’s features. She held back a small laugh as he shifted slightly in her lap so he could look up at his wife with those beautiful hazel eyes. Eurydice leaned down, smiling as she pressed her lips to his. “There’s always next year. We can keep each other awake and wait together. It will be our new tradition,” the young girl suggested, watching as Orpheus’ pout turned into an excited grin. 

As the couple began to gather themselves for their migration from the floor to their bed for the evening Eurydice took Orpheus’ hand, stopping him so they could look at their tree once more before going to bed. She leaned back into him, his arm wrapping protectively over her chest. “Orpheus?” She asked, looking up at him with adoration in her eyes. Her poet replied with a soft hmm, muffled from his lips pressed against the crown of her head. 

“Thank you for sharing these traditions with me,” she whispered into the night. “I am so thankful for you, for tonight, and for all of the future Christmases to come.” 

[sublimetravelerpolice]

Opinions Like Kittens: The End Of Thrones

By Grant Johnson

All roads reach their terminus.

It sucks that it’s over, but alas, all good things must come to an end. True that may be, but it’s still difficult to swallow, because reaching the end of any journey is bittersweet. You left home, and ended up somewhere else, the new place may be exciting, but it isn’t home.

Naturally, the Game of Thrones conclusion was met with the inevitable backlash, and it was inevitable. People are almost always dissatisfied with the ending of TV shows. Sure, there are exceptions, for every Breaking Bad, Veep, and Justified, there is LOST, Dexter, and How I Met Your Mother (I’ll also throw in the entire second season of True Detective, because people destested that also). Now the latest finale on the chopping block is Game of Thrones. Sure, not all finales are handled with as deft a touch as Six Feet Under or Avengers: Endgame, but I think it has more to do with audiences not wanting any ending, than the ending itself. Maybe some endings get caught under the weight of the audience expectations, maybe it’s just the burden of wanting more, which, to me, means the story is ending exactly where it should. Leave them wanting more.

She was The Mother of Dragons.

Does that mean the Iron Throne should belong to her? As strong and powerful a character as she was, Dany was so caught up in her quest for The Throne, believing it was her birthright, that she never stopped to think why she really wanted it, she only knew her brother wanted it. Compounded by the fact that she never seemed to come to terms with the man her father was, or what he did, or would’ve done (if not for Jaime). That being said, I was still ready to back Dany, even after the burning of King’s Landing. It made sense to me, in a Fight Club sort of way, you have to destroy what was there to build something new. I think she would’ve been a great ruler, but maybe that’s the problem, she was always a conqueror, not a leader. She never quite nailed down the political aspect of the job. She repeatedly wanted to take King’s Landing by fire, and repeatedly, she had to be talked down by Jorah, by Varys, by Tyrion, and by Jon. Not to mention, she never seemed able to separate vengeance from justice. Her hunger for power could never be slaked, that’s even more dangerous when you consider she has the dragons, the equivalent of several atom bombs, at her disposal. Still, I would’ve liked to see Dany recreate the world as she saw fit. There’s a whole other story there (that’s where those few more episodes would’ve come in handy). Ultimately, I think her story is a cautionary tale about the pitfalls of wish fulfillment.

The Boy Who Would Be King.

Jon would’ve been a good King. However, he didn’t want it. If he had worn that crown, where would that lead? Would he have grown weary of it? Apathetic? Mayhaps. The idea of him being forced into the role of King doesn’t feel right. I want more for his character. Because he wanted one simple thing, to go back to that cave with Ygritte. After everything he’s been through, something resembling that end feels right for his journey.

Of Snow and Fire.

Dany and Jon are opposite sides of the same coin. One believed the Iron Throne was her birthright and was willing to take it by any means necessary. The other had the better claim to the Throne, but didn’t want it. Jon was willing to deny his claim for Dany, but Dany would, under no circumstances, reciprocate the gesture for Jon, or for Westeros. Because her entire ego had been built around the idea that she was the rightful heir to the Throne. Once her claim to the Throne was usurped, she completely lost sense of her identity. When everyone is celebrating after prevailing in the Battle of Winterfell, Tormund is applauding Jon for his valor, and for riding a dragon in battle. Dany looks over at Jon, her eyes filled with somber jealousy, and in that moment she becomes her brother, Viserys. Filled with anger for everyone giving Jon the adulation that she believes is owed to her.

Ultimately, no matter how much we should’ve been able to predict the trajectory of some characters, we didn’t, that, above all else, has been my favorite thing about this story. It’s hard to find a story that has been as consistently unpredictable as GoT. I’ll never forget my introduction to the TV series, a friend suggested that I watch the show because, “It has all the things that are great about the fantasy genre, but without the usual tropes.” I was sold from that pitch alone.

I didn’t read the books until somewhere between season 4 & 5, and fell in love with them, and George R. R. Martin’s sublime writing. On the Ink To Film podcast, Luke Elliot and James Bailey covered the first book and season of A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones (they also did a great postmortem of the show for a Patreon bonus episode). They discussed one of GRRM’s brilliant literary talents, his ability to subvert expectation. Whether it’s the reader’s expectations or the expectations of the characters, Ned will make it out of this, right? It constantly keeps you off-kilter, the moment Ned’s head leaves his body, all bets are off. No one is safe. That moment, that feeling, permeates throughout the series, much to our indignation. This is why I could never compete in the fan theory debates. What do you think will happen? Who do you think will end up on the Iron Throne? I don’t f***ing know. There’s no way I could’ve guessed, and it’s a good thing I didn’t place any wagers on my predictions, because that money would be long gone now. I was prepared for the Night King to eradicate everyone. But, at the end of the day, I’ve been happy to nervously watch it all unfold from the edge of my seat. I’ve appreciated the times the TV show has cranked the story up to 11, for instance, Talisa (AKA Jeyne Westerling) being present at The Red Wedding. In the book she stays back at Riverrun, therefore, she wasn’t present at the massacre. In the books she is still alive and...well, no one in the ASOIAF universe is doing well.

I’m not saying the final season is without its flaws, it certainly has them, no work is perfect. But I think it gave as satisfying an ending as this story would allow. George R. R. Martin has been very vocal about his love for J.R.R. Tolkien and The Lord of the Rings. He’s also stated he wants to emulate the ending of LOTR in Thrones. More specifically, its “bittersweet” ending. Although, even without that knowledge, if we thought Game of Thrones was going to have anything resembling a Disney-style happy ending, then we weren’t paying attention. Like Tyrion speaking of the corruption in King’s Landing, “If you’re looking for justice, you’ve come to the wrong place.”

There are still aspects that irk me, like Jaime pulling a full 180 (or a 360, depending on how you look at it), but I think Jaime is a self-punishing character, he doesn’t believe he deserves redemption, so he set about making sure to deny himself that redemption by returning to Cersei. The show runners could’ve given everything more time to breathe. Maybe they should’ve done a ten-episode season, especially since the writers wanted to pack so much into the season. Who knows, maybe if they had done a full ten, we’d all be sitting here talking about those four episodes where nothing happened. However, I think at least two more episodes of watching Dany unraveling, being a complete dictator would’ve solidified the arc. Some thought the Night King battle was pushed too far forward in the season, that he should be a final boss. The problem with that is, after dealing with the Night King, no matter what, the living still have to deal with each other. That being said, the final season did give us one of the most satisfying episodes (A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms), and arguably the most epic (The Long Night). Sure, the season felt rushed, but that’s because we didn’t want it to end.

All of this makes me more eager for GRRM to finish the books. I’m curious to see how he closes it out. So let’s all wish him good health. I’ll be very surprised if the books end like the TV show, but hopefully we will find out.

Ultimately, If you didn’t like the final season, I get that, we all have our issues with it, it’s part of being a fan. We all think it should’ve ended this way or that way. It doesn’t mean the way it ended was wrong, just different from what we expected. Was the second season of True Detective bad, or did we just want more Matt McConaughey and Woody Harrelson? Time will tell. I think the second season was fantastic and in some ways superior to the first. When Sopranos ended, its finale was met with venomous contempt. Now, more than a decade later, it’s revered as one of the best finales. One of the finales that “got it right.” Maybe, after the dust settles, the Thrones finale will be re-examined, and maybe the public will feel different about it. Just don’t let the ending mar the story as a whole, because, “A good act does not wash out the bad, nor a bad act the good.”