#About the contrast between that isolation and that connection

[casscainmainly]

Do you remember Cass having any moments where she was like, the way I was treated as a child was not okay and I’m not happy about it? The only thing that comes to my mind is her desire for physical and emotional connections with others. It’s such an interesting juxtaposition between Steph who resents her father and what he did and Cass who still loves her father even after everything he did to her. Like, being isolated for so long seemed to greatly lessen any hard feelings Cass had for her upbringing, and I guess what I’m asking is did she eventually expand her worldview in a way that changed her feelings about her childhood?

This question is sooo interesting. I don't think she ever comes to a full understanding of how abusive her childhood was, but she definitely is aware of some of it:

Batgirl (2000) #50 / #33

Particularly in #33 (the above second panel), when she's asking Cain "who do you think you are?", she's realising the way she was treated was inhumane. She's asking him what gave him the right to do that to her. It's the second most confrontational she ever gets with him.

Steph is absolutely a great contrast to this, but her friendship also allows Cass to process some of her abuse. It's the same for her relationship with Tim:

Batgirl (2000) #28 / #59

In Steph and Cass' convo, Cass is relating to another abuse victim - she's recognising, on some level, that what her dad did to her was abuse. Steph also emphasises that what Cass experienced was worse. Tim, similarly, says that Cass' childhood was 'horrible'; in the next panel, Cass thinks she doesn't know what it's like to have a 'real' father like Tim's. I think having Steph and Tim as counterpoints helps her see David Cain as abusive.

Then there's Batgirl (2008) #6:

The most confrontational Cass has ever gotten with her dad. Cain's characterisation is iffy, but everything Cass says here builds on her development in Batgirl (2000). It's the ultimate moment where she realises everything he took away from her: reading, speaking, play, family, and above all, choices.

She tries to save him immediately after, so I don't think she ever stops loving him (particularly not in New 52, where he tries to save her life and dies). But she does acknowledge what he did to her, and why it was wrong. I just don't think she allows herself to understand the extent of the wrongdoing, because that absolves her of the responsibility of her murder, and she can't grant herself that mercy.

[saints-who-never-existed]

Hickey is a surpassingly lonely man certainly, but often overlooked - or at the very least something I'd like to talk about more - is the fact that he is absolutely not the only one, despite what he may think.

The Terror is a show, after all, that is as much about abject, crushing isolation as it is about love and intimacy and brotherhood in the face of tragedy. About the extent to which each man is affected by loneliness and the ways in which he does or doesn't deal with it. About whether he even understands the nature of it in the first place and by extension, whether he understands himself.

Franklin is a surpassingly lonely man too.

Think of him in the novel being deeply uncomfortable in the world and in the company of other men to the point where he resorts to bribery, however unconsciously, in order to ingratiate himself with them.

Think of him in the show gazing from the outside in at Fitzjames and the Lieutenants laughing away together at the admiralty shindig, an in-crowd Franklin has missed out on ever truly being a part of.

Think how that drives him to poorer and ever riskier decisions. Failure of the expedition is not an option for him because it will also mean a failure to improve his social standing and gain entry to that crowd.

Crozier is a surpassingly lonely man too.

Think of how the outside world has made him so, certainly - how his nationality and class and overall station in life have seen him excluded from professional advancement and romantic fulfilment.

But think also how he doesn't help himself all that much. Think on how insular and uncommunicative he stays even after he 'gets better', how right Franklin was when he said Crozier makes himself miserable, distant, and hard to love, and that he blames the world for it.

Think of how that vindictive streak and that unwillingness to communicate foments mutiny and continues to cut him off even from those who are his allies.

Fitzjames is a surpassingly lonely man too.

Think of how he holds others at an arms length with all the artifice surrounding the great gilded life he's built for himself.

Think of how desperate he is to be seen but also of the great lengths he goes to for much of the story to never allow himself to be fully perceived.

Think of the unusual, secretive nature of his birth and early life that keep him even from being able to properly perceive and understand himself until it's too late.

Think how all that insecurity fueled his ridiculous heroics and think how the reopening of old wounds from those heroics helped to doom him.

Little is a surpassingly lonely man too.

Think of how he's ignored and denigrated and absolutely hung out to dry by his Captain.

Think of how hard he works, how diligently he does what's asked of him and what's needed, and how cruelly he's forced to confront the fact that it's never going to be enough.

Think of how profoundly, incandescently angry he is about the injustices he endures and how he has absolutely no one he can truly confide in about it.

Hodgson and Irving are surpassingly lonely men too.

Think of Hodgson forever being just slightly out of step with the rest of the crew, officers and men alike. Of how he surprises even himself with how harshly and suddenly his unhappiness and insecurity turns not just into mutinous designs but into pure self-loathing.

Think of Irving being isolated and brought down by his own inherent inflexibility. Of how the rigidity of his faith and his world view in general prevents him from any great examination or understanding of his own desires or the desires of others.

Tozer is a surpassingly lonely man too.

Think of the isolation inherent even just in being a Marine, separate from but at the mercy of the officers above, and never truly integrated with the regular seamen below either.

Think of him becoming increasingly insular and distrustful as the story progresses and he loses all faith in command. All he wants is to protect everyone but the structure through which he's always done that falls down around him and leaves him lost.

That all-permeating atmosphere of isolation, that fateful lack of understanding has just as much, if not even more influence on the story as the shining mercurial little moments of love and connection do and I desperately need to parse some more coherent thoughts about that as soon as possible

[raytm]

the urge to write callum nova again is tugging at me.

[vivacissimx]

The puzzle piece about Rhaegar that is really interesting but unfortunately often overlooked is that he was relieved when he realized he was not TPTWP. Yes, relieved. Conflicted too which I will get into. And I believe it is obvious that when Rhaegar first read about Aegon's prophecy, he was not enthused— It seems I must be a warrior is trotted out to talk about Rhaegar's gender expression, his disconnect with capital m Masculinity that is purposely contrasted to Robert Baratheon reveling in it (indeed only making sense within the context of violence, battle, war) but there is more to the compulsion involved in the words It seems and I must than just It seems I must become an archetype. Socially becoming a fighter was already expected of him but he was not, presumably, in compliance with this expectation. The prophecy motivated him in a different way than you will be socially rewarded for acting as a man does.

Which brings me to another point i.e. how Rhaegar perceived himself prior to reading what he read; his connection to the tragedy of his birth and the grief, the resentment, the awkward dynamics between members of his family. "Oh he was a child" yes but we're told that Rhaegar did not act like, think like, or even particularly get along with others his age. So it's safe to say he was aware of Summerhall and felt it's shadow surrounding him from a young age. And Aegon's prophecy, combined with the Ghost of High Heart's prophecy, the events of Summerhall, put this weight on his shoulders completely into context. It was not that Rhaegar desired to be TPTWP because he took to it with determination but no particular joy. Every indicator just seemed to demand he give himself over to fulfilling this role. TPTWP was coming from Aerys and Rhaella's line? Well, he was their only child. Consult Maester Aemon on the matter? Yeah kid it's you. Ancient scrolls? Dusty, but they agree. Dead ancestors? Oh wait, they died so YOU could live. Woah.

This understanding basically necessitates us looking to ASOS Daenerys who also has some knowledge of TPTWP prophecy, and thanks to the Rhaegar-Daenerys pipeline, we can imagine that Rhaegar had similar thoughts to Daenerys, such as when she asks herself: The dragon has three heads. There are two men in the world who I can trust, if I can find them. I will not be alone then. We will be three against the world, like Aegon and his sisters. Who are Rhaegar's fellow two heads? Daenerys wonders at this, telling Jorah that her brothers are dead. Well Rhaegar's brothers die too, right in front of him. Rhaella suffers miscarriage after stillbirth after crib death. She is punished for this by Aerys via isolation and presumably Rhaegar is also kept separate from her— textually we know that Rhaegar was expected to take a sister to bride, i.e. further targcest was going to be enforced by Aerys, and to Rhaegar the loss would have also been of the other two people who would have fulfilled the requirements of the prophecy. Yes that's true. However, it was also the loss of his mother.

Rhaella was 13 when she had Rhaegar so it would be ridiculous to even think that she, a child, a Queen from when Rhaegar was 3, was this grand maternal figure to him. Of course she wasn't. There was too much on her shoulders. Too much on Aerys's shoulders as well, to be any sort of father except the kind who trotted Rhaegar out as an impressive little heir from time to time. Rhaegar was Aerys's success (it's the duty of the patriarch to sire sons who will continue the line) but as Rhaegar's siblings failed to survive, that success became a dicey thing. So when Viserys was born & survived, there is a thought that Rhaegar would latch onto such a sibling. This isn't the case— in fact, Viserys is Rhaella's. She coddles him. Keeps him close. Safe from Aerys (who already has Rhaegar). Viserys tells Dany stories about Rhaegar but this is done in the sense that he does not truly know Rhaegar. Why wouldn't Rhaegar have spent more time with Viserys, if he was motivated by fulfillment of the prophecy?

Because Viserys was Rhaella's, perhaps. Rhaegar never truly got to be his mother's son. To leech Viserys away from her... there's something in that. When Rhaella warmly welcomed Rhaegar's daughter, too. Rhaella's was Aerys's wife and property, which Rhaegar knew because he was also Aerys's property. Rhaella was mother to his brother. Rhaella was a grandmother to his daughter. She was everything but the woman who raised him.

"Rhaegar was a lonely man anyway due to his depression" yes that's true. There is an asceticism to Rhaegar Targaryen. The places he enjoys are bare and stripped, places he can keep his own company: Summerhall, the place of his birth, haunted, full of magic. Dragonstone where he retreats after his marriage, a place where the last embers of Valyria's magic died. Later the Tower of Joy is in a barren desert. But he finds a beauty in these places. He writes music that pushes him back into the shared world, songs he shares with people, about people, about lovers and those who sacrificed and who he is deeply moved by— almost like he's motivating himself. People are drawn to him.

Despite his lack of connection to Rhaella and Viserys he does bond with people. Arthur Dayne, who for all we can try and complicate, apply horseshoe theory to, is meant as the juxtaposition to characters such as the Smiling Knight. Brave as brass Myles Mooton whose memory his people still call upon. Richard Lonmouth and Jon Connington, both technically vassals to Robert Baratheon, funny little irony there. Princess Elia his wife who he is fond of along with the Dornishmen she comes to court with, "particularly" Prince Lewyn of the Kingsguard, who is in Rhaegar's confidence (per AWOIAF). These bonds seem strong because not a whiff of possible disloyalty on Rhaegar's part ever reaches Aerys despite it definitely existing and Aerys actively looking for it (again per AWOIAF). Do these confidantes know about Aegon's prophecy? IDK. At least in JonCon's case the answer seems to be no. However we also know JonCon wasn't actually the closest to Rhaegar. Nonetheless, I think we can assume that outside of Arthur Myles and Richard most of these were political relationships which Rhaegar pursued and all were concerned about Aerys's instability— there is also Tywin who Rhaegar performs certain overtures towards (such as knighting Gregor, Tywin's man, at a time when the Aerys-Tywin relationship had just grown particularly sour) indicating he'd like him as an ally. This is all straying away from TPTWP but I think it's important, it shows that even imbued with purpose, Rhaegar was in a position that did not lend itself towards him being able to take much action...

Then winter breaks. Spring comes. Nobody knows it's false yet. Rhaegar's whole deal is this coming Long Night. Everyone takes, quite literally, a breath of fresh air, and the tourney of Harrenhal commences, with Rhaegar as a shadow sponsor, thinking to call an informal Great Council which will begin to deal with Aerys (step 1)(step 1 failed).

This is where matters of prophecy come back into focus. I've covered Rhaegar's various relationships, the shallowness of them, the stagnancy in Developments due to Aerys's paranoia, etc. Harrenhal is not a solitary place but it is flush with magic in a way similar to Summerhall and Dragonstone— all places where dragons have died Harrenhal is thematically the cannibal dragon let's not get into that. And this is important to Rhaegar's characterization because of how things unfold with Lyanna Stark in several ways: 1) Lyanna cries to his song. Before they formally meet Lyanna is touched by the magic and purpose and sacrifice and yes, love, of which Rhaegar sings. It speaks to her. Of course, many others likely cried too. Common occurrence, see: A song of love and doom, Jon Connington recalled, and every woman in the hall was weeping when he put down the harp. Not the men, of course. Rhaegar gender moment but I digress. 2) Rhaegar's discovery of her as the KOTLT despite Robert & Richard Lonmouth both vowing to do so, those raucous manly men, both of whom failed; Rhaegar's subsequent hiding of her identity to unknown consequence for himself if any. All he produces is her shield which is painted with a tree on it, a purposeful callback to Duncan the Tall's shield, both Lyanna and Dunk being 'false knights' yet, in their actions, true ones. Sorry I love Lyanna so much I can't resist plugging her greatest hits 3) Rhaegar winning the tourney, the only tourney he's ever won... and immediately tainting his victory by awarding it to Lyanna instead.

I bring this all up and frame it because here we see that Rhaegar is not really invested in his own victory or legacy or even really his honor. His wife Princess Elia is there and she is pregnant with his son, something he could commemorate in the same vein that Aerys "honored" Rhaegar by showcasing him at various tourneys, an ode to a future warrior king, but Rhaegar doesn't do that. It's not his victory as a Man. It's never been about his victory as a Man. It doesn't even need to be his victory.

Neither does Aegon's prophecy. Rhaegar rapidly realizes that on two fronts: second, the false spring ends. It wasn't real! Rhaegar's spring isn't the lasting one. First, though, is that Rhaegar and Elia's son Aegon is born, a difficult birth in which Elia is rendered infertile. Who does this remind you of? Oh right, Aerys with Rhaella— only Rhaegar does not go about trying to impregnate Elia again. Rhaegar becomes convinced Aegon is TPTWP— something he was already thinking, prior. Rhaegar was never so invested in himself being TPTWP that he could not be convinced otherwise. Maester Aemon: Rhaegar, I thought... the smoke was from the fire that devoured Summerhall on the day of his birth, the salt from the tears shed for those who died. He shared my belief when he was young, but later he became persuaded that it was his own son who fulfilled the prophecy, for a comet had been seen above King's Landing on the night Aegon was conceived, and Rhaegar was certain the bleeding star had to be a comet. Rhaegar agreeing "when he was young" and being "certain the bleeding star had to be a comet" all indicate that he had been looking into the possibility that TPTWP was Not Him for a while. The visits to Summerhall— maybe they were a search for proof by encasing himself in the lingering magic of the place? He still messed up the prince/princess translation presumably because baby Rhaenys never seemed to be in the conversation. (The bleeding star was in fact a comet, funnily enough, a little consolation prize for the pretty boy.) Here's what we know: in Daenerys's vision, Elia asks if Rhaegar will write Aegon a son, we can assume because he wrote their firstborn Rhaenys a song, but Rhaegar says no, he already has one. The song of ice and fire. Aegon doesn't get a song. Why? Rhaegar believes he must be a warrior.

Yet, he sings for him anyway.

Rhaegar's "it seems" and "I must" and distance from Viserys and inner conflict about Aerys and doubt about his own place in the grand scheme of things all come to fruition with Aegon's birth. Rhaegar isn't TPTWP— and it spurs him into action. A weight is off his shoulders so now he can act. As in the case of crowning Lyanna, when the purpose of a task is not to honor or elevate him, we see Rhaegar able to perform in ways he could not before.

Namely there are two veins: acting against Aerys and seeking out information of the prophecy, but Rhaegar's general direction (through the Riverlands past Harrenhal) seems to indicate that he was headed towards the Ghost of High Heart. Not Summerhall, a place of mysticism meant to soothe Rhaegar. Rather a place of pain. The Ghost of High Heart who gorged on grief at Summerhall, who only ever demands Jenny's song (which Rhaegar seems to have wrote), who sees in Arya who looks like Lyanna, who looks like Jon, death. But instead of ever making it there... Rhaegar meets Lyanna.

And then they disappear. There are the Rhaegarwars to consider so I'm just going to say that, at the least, Lyanna did not want to marry Robert though society dictated that she must, and in removing her, she was removed from this. From there she came to be in Dorne in a place that was desolate desert, but similar to Summerhall, which was also abandoned, held something of magic in that it was near where Those Who Sing The Song of the Earth had split the Arm of Dorne. We can say a lot more about this but that's not the point of the post. I have explained Rhaegar as a person disconnected from his mother, later a person who in several manners refuses to act as Aerys did towards Rhaella, indicating that disconnect troubled him — Rhaegar's limited amount of close relationships with people he admired and the deep loyalty shown to him, presumably for a reason — Rhaegar's willingness to interrogate himself & his assumptions about the world.

So when I say Rhaegar was relieved what I mean is that upon suspecting and, to his mind, confirming that he was not the fulfillment of Aegon's prophecy, Rhaegar became proactive in ways he had yearned for but not been able to before. The Rhaegar that died with Lyanna's name as his last word was not a Rhaegar who died thinking the world was doomed without him. I think the Rhaegar that died on the Trident was a Rhaegar who had escaped the shadow of fate only to meet it, face to face.

[beegomess]

L.B. || I can love you even in the dark

Summary: Lorenzo loved you, always. Even from a distance, even watching you happy with someone else. Warnings: a little sad, but very romantic.

Requests are open!

Lorenzo fell in love with you the first time his eyes crossed. The memory of that moment was as vivid in his mind as when he began to attend Malfoy Mansion at the age of six. He and his brother, laughing and running, disputed the attention of the adults, but Lorenzo always had a watchful eye on you. He and Draco competed not only for the future power they both knew they would have, but for the little antics of childhood - like stealing your toys and running away through the property, with you running after them, laughing and complaining at the same time.

There was something about you that Lorenzo couldn't explain at that time, a feeling that disturbed him and confused him. In childhood, the feelings seemed simple and fleeting, but what he felt for you was an exception. It was a love that was not easily extinguished, despite its youth and innocence. Even if he didn't admit it to anyone - maybe not even to himself - he knew that that feeling was deeper than anything else he had ever experienced.

Adolescence brought distance and insecurity. Lorenzo was selected for a school of magic different from his and Draco's, facing a new world alone. While you and your brother were surrounded by friends and adventures, he felt isolated, away from the comfort of established friendships. He felt a twinge of envy, not only for the company you had, but for the very feeling of being so far away from you.

For a while, Lorenzo tried to convince himself that his feelings were just childish nonsense. But this illusion didn't last long. Everything fell apart when he saw you again, next to Theodore Nott, at a formal dinner. The connection between you was impossible to ignore. Lorenzo noticed the silent understanding and affection that were reflected in every look exchanged between you. Theodore's reserved smile opened more easily in his presence, a reality that Lorenzo faced with a mixture of pain and resignation.

Lorenzo tried to resume childhood friendship, but something was always out of place. Despite the efforts, he felt that Theodore was always the only one you really had in mind. The confirmation that you were together was a devastating blow. Lorenzo tried to move on, starting a relationship with Amélie. She was kind and charming, but in many ways she reminded you in a disturbing way. The similarities were so many that he couldn't ignore, making him miss something he should never have lost.

That year's Christmas was especially painful. Lorenzo decided to take Amélie to dinner at Malfoy Mansion, trying to overcome what he felt for you. But seeing you and Theodore together, your determination faltered. The way his eyes shone next to Theodore made Lorenzo realize the truth he had avoided: he still loved you, and that would not change.

As you moved away for a breath of the brightness and bustle of the party, Lorenzo was leaning against a column of the pergola, contrasting with the grandeur of the illuminated garden. The discouragement in his posture was palpable.

- So, did you decide to take a break from the competition of those who have more confidence in the Dark Lord? - He raises his eyes, forcing a small and tired smile. His expression softens when he sees you, and he responds with a forced lightness.

- In fact, I needed a breath away from the bow ties and the conversations about the last carriage model. - You laugh, and Lorenzo watches your laughter with a nostalgic glow. - I've always liked the way you laugh. - he says, his voice softening.

- It's good to know that I can still bring a little light to such a boring party. - Lorenzo smiles back, but the lightness soon gives way to a shadow of concern when you ask.

- How are you? - You stare at him, and he responds with a forced smile.

- I've been better. - He confesses, and you, with an expression of surprise, ask:

- Amélie?

Lorenzo's expression changes instantly, and he lowers his gaze, loaded with sadness.

- Actually, we're done.

The concern becomes evident in his gaze, his cheeks blushing slightly in shame of being so intrusive.

- I'm sorry, Lorenzo. I had no idea, I didn't want to remind you of something bad. - He shakes his head, trying not to look more dejected than he already is.

- Don't apologize. I wasn't exactly the ideal boyfriend. - You stare at him, skeptical of his words.

- Don't be so hard on yourself. I really don't think that's true. - Lorenzo looks at the ground, his sadness reflected in the party in the background - the exuberant flowers and the stone paths now look cold and distant.

- It shouldn't be easy to have your boyfriend in love with someone else, should it? - The silence that follows is deep and painful. You feel the weight of the words, and Lorenzo finally breaks the silence, his voice almost a whisper.

- I tried to forget you, really. But somehow, you always reappeared in my mind. It was like I could never get rid of you, no matter how hard I tried.

Your heart squeezes with sincerity in your words. You respond with a soft tone, tears starting to form.

- Enzo, I... I don't know what to say. I'm sorry. - Tears start running down Lorenzo's face. He asks, with an almost imperceptible tremor:

- Do you really love Theodore?

You hesitate, the weight of truth pressing every word. Finally, answer sincerely.

- Yes... I love it. - Lorenzo closes his eyes for a moment, the visible pain on his face. He then asks, with palpable despair:

- How much do you love him?

You take a deep breath, the tears falling freely now, and respond with total sincerity.

- I love him with all my heart.

Lorenzo hears his words, the weight of acceptance mixed with a deep sadness. He closes his eyes, one last look at you full of pain and resignation. The sadness on his face is even more evident under the lights of the party, creating a cruel contrast with the visible pain.

- That's all I needed to know. - he murmurs, his voice almost inaudible.

He turns and begins to move away, his heavy and slow step, as if carrying an invisible burden. The last time you see him, he is moving away by the illuminated trail, his tears mixing with the humidity of the night. The silence of the garden becomes even deeper, wrapped in a palpable sadness, as you watch Lorenzo's departure. The moment marks the end of a painful chapter.

After that devastating night, Lorenzo's life plunged into a spiral of desolation. The colors that once gave liveliness to your world now seemed to fade. Each day seemed to drag on, and the feeling of loss became more intense with each step.

Voldemort's return brought a wave of terror that swept the magical world. The Berkshire family, traditionally aligned with the diners, had made a critical decision: they did not seek the Dark Lord after his fall and did not encourage Lorenzo to join him. When the news of the return came, the family immediately fled, fearing Voldemort's revenge, and handed over valuable information to the Order of the Phoenix, in an attempt to redeem themselves and protect what was left of their integrity.

During the hunt, Theodore Nott was assigned to find the Berkshires. Despite his mission, Nott demonstrated a remarkable behavior of humanity. On several occasions, Lorenzo crossed paths with him during the escape. Nott seemed to deliberately choose to ignore Lorenzo, offering him opportunities to escape, as if he wanted to spare the Berkshires because of the feeling of friendship that still remained between you.

With the end of the war, the magical world began to rebuild, but Lorenzo's life went on at a fast pace. The sporadic news about you and Theodore, who were on the run and missing, came to him as distant echoes. This news built an almost mythical scenario, where you became urban legends — often mentioned, but rarely seen.

As if fate wanted to play with cruel irony, Lorenzo was summoned to assume a position as a teacher at Hogwarts. The invitation seemed to fulfill a childhood dream, but instead of excitement, he found a feeling of disconnection and disconnection. Hogwarts, now marked by the scars of war, seemed like a distant and almost unrecognizable scenario.

Lorenzo had spent years refusing the invitations of Hogwarts. He always claimed a full schedule or lack of motivation, but the truth was that the wounds of war and the pain of unrequited love were still very fresh. The anguish of an unresolved past seemed impenetrable, and he hid behind excuses and reticence.

But something has changed. In a moment of hopelessness, he finally accepted the invitation. It was an opportunity to turn the page, to reinvent yourself. However, while crossing the magical portal to the 9 ¾ platform, Lorenzo found a vision that made his heart squeeze with unexpected pain. In the middle of the hustle and bustle of the station, he saw you and Theodore with an 11-year-old girl. Theodore was lowered at her height, with an expression of tenderness that Lorenzo would never forget. The girl had the delicate traits inherited from you, but with Theodore's slightly lighter and wavy hair. She walked away, smiling, and went to follow her cousin, Scorpius, to the entrance of the train.

Lorenzo's heart broke when he saw that scene. It was a cruel reminder of everything he had lost, of how life went on without him, while he remained trapped in the labyrinth of pain and loss. Theodore's genuine happiness with his daughter seemed a cruel reflection of his own sadness. He wanted to rejoice in his happiness, but the weight of his own pain was overwhelming.

With an almost superhuman effort, Lorenzo got on the train before you turned around. He forced himself to look away, his chest heavy with a mixture of pain and resignation. Every step towards Hogwarts seemed like an additional weight in the heart, and the castle, although familiar, now looked like a labyrinth of nostalgia and unresolved suffering.

As the days passed and Lorenzo began his classes, he dedicated himself to work with an almost obsessive intensity. Every moment away from contact with your pain seemed like a little relief. But, inevitably, he couldn't help it. He watched Isabella Nott through the corridors, a constant and painful presence that incessantly reminded him of you and Theodore. The resemblance to you was a cruel echo of the life he had lost.

Finally, the day came when Lorenzo had to face his pain in a more brutal way. When making the call for her first class, the name "Isabella Nott" appeared on the list. The pain was almost physical, as if his heart had been spiked by a sharp blade. Her name resonated with Theodore's inheritance and the memories of a love that never materialized. The sound of the name "Nott", her look, in the same color as her eyes, with Theodore's countenance, were a painful representation of what Lorenzo had tried to bury.

Just as Severus Snape carried a deep and unrequited love for Lily Evans, Lorenzo carried a love that seemed uncompromising and unattainable. Every step at Hogwarts, every moment watching the little girl, was a constant reminder of the pain he had carried for so long. His journey was marked by a constant internal battle, a persistent shadow that seemed to have no end.

With a deep sigh and a crushed heart, Lorenzo realized that, although he had received a new chance with the work at Hogwarts, the emotional scar he carried would not disappear so easily. Life was a cruel combination of redemption and torment, and he wondered if he could ever truly free himself from the emotional burden he carried.

____________________________

masterlist

xoxo, bee🫶🏼✨

[pretzel-box]

Hiya! Hope you’re day is going well for you! Could I request a male (experiment) reader x Sebastian solace? Like the reader is somewhat similar to his monster form if that makes sense. ALSO I LOVVVEEEEE YOUR WRITING ITS SO GOOD! HAVE A GOOD DAY, AFTERNOON, OR MORNING

words: 1k

tags: can be read as GN!reader actually

authors note: Thank you so much!!

Sebastian was used to the solitude of the Hadal Blackside. The darkness, the eerie silence, and the constant tension that hung in the water were all part of his daily existence. He had grown accustomed to the loneliness that came with being something similar to a hybrid But that all changed one day when he encountered something—or rather, someone—completely unexpected.

He was slithering through one of the many winding corridors of the facility, his long tail gliding effortlessly over the slick, damp floor. His angler lure bobbed gently in front of him, casting a soft glow in the murky darkness. He had been on edge all day, sensing a strange presence in the water, something that felt both familiar and foreign. It was enough to make even him wary, and that was saying something.

As he rounded a corner, his three fluorescent eyes scanning the dimly lit hallway, he caught sight of movement up ahead. At first, he assumed it was one of the usual creatures that roamed the depths, perhaps another wall dweller or an angler monster. But as he got closer, he realized that this was something different—someone different.

You were curled up in a shadowy corner, Your long, sinuous tail coiled around You like a serpent. Your skin was a deep shade of blue, almost blending into the darkness around you. A long fin ran down the length of your tail, shimmering faintly in the dim light. You ears were shaped like delicate fins, twitching slightly as you sensed his approach. But what caught Sebastian’s attention the most was the small, glowing lure that dangled from your forehead, much like his own.

You were another experiment.

Sebastian stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening in surprise. He had never encountered another creature so similar like himself before. The scientists at Urbanshade had always treated him as a one-of-a-kind experiment, something unique and singular in its creation. Yet here you were, another hybrid, looking just as startled as he was.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. They simply stared at each other, two creatures of the deep who had never expected to find anotherlike themselves. Finally, the silence was broken as you cautiously uncoiled yourself, your large glowing eyes watching him warily.

“Who… who are you?” Your voice was soft, almost melodic, carrying a hint of the ocean’s depths in its tone.

Sebastian blinked, his own voice caught in his throat. He wasn’t used to speaking, especially not to someone who wasn’t a scientist or a monster. But there was something about you that made him want to respond, to reach out and connect in a way he had never done before.

“I’m… Sebastian,” he said hesitantly, his gruff voice sounding awkward to his own ears. “I live here.”

You tilted your head, You fin ears twitching as you processed his words. “I’m living here too,” You replied, your name rolling off You tongue like a gentle wave as you introduced yourself. “I… I didn’t know there was anyone else like me here.”

Sebastian felt a strange warmth in his chest, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. It was a mix of relief and curiosity, the realization that he wasn’t alone in this dark, twisted place. “I didn’t either,” he admitted, his gaze softening as he took in your appearance. You were beautiful in a strange, otherworldly way. You features delicate yet strong, gracefulness that contrasts sharply with the harsh environment around them.

They stood there for a while, simply observing each other, both unsure of what to say or do next. But there was an unspoken understanding between them, a bond that came from shared experiences and a mutual sense of isolation.

You were the first to break the silence again. “Do you… do you live alone here?” You asked, your voice tinged with sadness.

Sebastian nodded slowly. “Yeah. It’s just me. The people who… who made me like this don’t come around anymore. Their luck.” He hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. “What about you?”

You sighed softly, your tail twitching as you curled it around yourself again. “I was brought here not too long ago. They… experimented on me, just like you. I managed to escape before they could do too much, but I’ve been hiding ever since.”

Sebastian’s heart ached at your words. He knew all too well the horrors of Urbanshade’s experiments, the pain and fear that came with being treated like nothing more than a test subject. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice filled with genuine empathy.

You looked up at him, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “It’s okay. I’m used to it by now.” You hesitated before adding, “But… it’s nice to know I’m not the only one.”

Sebastian felt a strange urge to comfort you, to reach out and touch you hand or offer some form of reassurance. It was an unfamiliar feeling, one he hadn’t experienced in a long time. He had always been solitary, resigned to his fate as a lone creature of the deep. But now, with You standing before him, that solitude didn’t seem so inevitable anymore.

“Maybe we don’t have to be alone,” he suggested softly, his voice almost shy. “We could… stick together, you know? Watch each other’s backs.”

You blinked in surprise, your expression softening as you considered his words. For a moment, you looked like you might cry, but then a small, genuine smile spread across your lips. “I’d like that,” You whispered.

Sebastian felt a surge of warmth in his chest, a feeling he hadn’t known he was capable of. It wasn’t love—at least not yet—but it was something close to it. It was the beginning of a connection, a bond that neither of them had expected but both desperately needed.

In the end you became an assistant in his shop, sharing the same tasks as him and occasionally murking the one or other person that tries to flash you with a flash beacon.

[godspeedmajortom]

I’m fascinated by how variations of Sea Power's “Want to Be Free (Remix)” provide a musical theme for death and endings that follows Harry and his foils throughout Disco Elysium.

The first place you hear it is as “The Field Autopsy” while inspecting the Hanged Man’s body. It's barely recognizable as the original song, though. It's sluggish and muddy and bilious. The piano melody has been lowered and sustained to an ominous funereal organ and combined with deep strings. A lilting viola line in the lush layers of the original "Want to Be Free" is isolated here and contrasts with the low organ, rising like the stench off a corpse. If you do the autopsy first thing as Kim suggests, Harry – freshly, grotesquely awakened from his apocalyptic bender – is not in a much better state than a corpse himself.

The music underscores a visceral scene of death and decay, our introduction to the Hanged Man, the first of Harry's foils. Both Harry and Lely are agents of state-sponsored violence as a cop and mercenary, respectively. They bear similar physical scars from the neglect of the systems they grew up in. They both desperately want to escape the horrorshow of their lives, using drugs and dark fantasies to cope with the terrible things they see and do but finding little more than self-destruction in the nihilism. The Bloated Corpse of a Drunk taking the Hanged Man's place in Harry's first night dream makes their connection explicit: you should be dead, Harry. This may as well have been you.

The next place you hear a variant of "Want to Be Free" is in the washerwoman's shack in the fishing village. “Live With Me” is wistful and melancholic. The gentle piano and cooing vocals evoke the wind and waves on the bay, an escape calling outside the salt-rimed shack. But this is a place of death, or at least its potential, as the return of the high viola from "The Field Autopsy" reminds us. This is where Ruby hid when Harry's arrival made her fear for her life, where she contemplated killing herself if things got even worse. This is where Harry can end up if no one vouches for him at the RCM tribunal finale, where his wounds will grow infected without medical care, where there is little left to do but return to drinking and wait to die.

But true to the song title, the shack also offers Harry the possibility of learning to with himself as he emerges from his bender. Here is a mirror free from the damage and trauma of attempting to destroy himself where he can reflect on who he was and who he wants to become. He can choose to keep or let go of his past coping/defense mechanisms like his facial hair and The Expression. He can choose to embrace or reject the self-defeating fantasy of fascism. The shack marks a midpoint of the game, when the hangover has worn off but before the case is closed. So "Live With Me" scores the balance between potential endings: abandonment or acceptance, relapse or recovery, death or life. Harry breathes in the sea air, breathes it back out, and takes another step.

I didn’t realize this until a recent replay, but “Live With Me” also plays when you visit the Working Class Woman to notify her of her husband’s death. Since this is an optional sidequest, I understand why they didn't create original music for it. But they didn't reuse "Rue de Saint-Gislaine", the song for the rest of the Capeside Apartments (including the Smoker on the Balcony's apartment when you talk to the Sunday Friend). The Working Class Husband is another mirror for Harry who has met his end, and "Live With Me" plays to mourn him.

Victor Méjean died from an accident while inebriated, a fate that also could have befallen Harry on a previous drinking binge. The striking thing about Victor's death is how easily he could have been overlooked and forgotten. He died at the end of a pier in a fenced off, abandoned part of town. His wife wasn't concerned about his days-long absence. It's only by virtue of Can Opening and Jamrock Shuffling that Harry will know about or find him. Victor literally and figuratively died slipping through the cracks – of the rotted boardwalk, yes, but also of any sort of social safety net. This is what happens to alcoholics in Revachol. This is what will happen to Harry if he continues drinking and hasn't built his own personal safety net with Kim or Cuno to prevent the RCM from abandoning him. As Harry informs Billie of her husband's death, it's only natural for him to think of his own possible endings, and the soundtrack reflects that.

The final version of the song you hear is “Burn, Baby, Burn” blasting from Sad FM on the boat ride to the Sea Fortress to find the Hanged Man's killer and Harry's last dark reflection: Dros, The Deserter. Dros shares Harry's penchant for clinging to political ideology to give meaning to his life and obsessing over women he can't be with. He lives in bitter isolation, refusing to move beyond the failures of the past, his personal shortcomings and the evils of the world alike. He's emblematic of yet another possible outcome for Harry: not literal death, but despair-induced stagnation that leaves one living like a ghost in the mortal realm.

By the time Harry gets in the boat to the island, his fate at the end of the game is set. The RCM (specifically Jean) has all they need to decide whether to accept or abandon their prodigal lieutenant-yefreitor. Should his former partners leave him, Harry can return to the shack and the circle of drunks who have also given up on life. Or he can return to the island, where he would take Dros' place as the creepy old man haunting the fortress, scaring children, and staring at the mainland with longing and resentment. But even if Harry returns with his unit to Jamrock, simply resuming his old life will not keep him from returning to the depths of despair. The RCM broke him; the RCM will not save him. Neither outcome helps Harry become a person he truly wants to live with.

"Want to be free/It will last forever/Eternally," croons the boombox on the boat. The lyrics echo the self destruction that Harry sought before the game's events: freedom forever from pain, the ultimate release of death. At least that's what the Ancient Reptilian Brain would see in those words. But there's tension in the lyrics as the desire for freedom and exhortations to "burn, baby, burn" repeat. The bridge offers an alternative vision of verdure not consumed by the disco inferno: "And the trees are green and overhanging/Feather-light, free, and everlasting." Perhaps a less moribund future exists for Harry, even if only in the next world, as a new person.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Subplots

Subplot - a side story that runs parallel to the main plot.

It has a secondary strand of characters and events that can infuse important information into the main storyline.

Also known as a minor story, a subplot creates a richer, more complex narrative arc in novel writing and other storytelling mediums.

When crafting a narrative, a writer’s job is to create a compelling story.

One way to do that is through subplots—secondary storylines found in novels, plays, television shows, and movies.

In creative writing, a subplot can reveal more about secondary characters, create plot twists, and add another dimension to a story.

Most importantly, a good subplot raises the stakes for a main character.

An Example: Romeo and Juliet

William Shakespeare weaves several subplots throughout this tragic love story.

The backstory of the long-running feud between rival families, the Capulets and Montagues, creates the central conflict in the play—two young lovers from warring families desperate to find a way to be together.

The subplots involving the warring families create dramatic plot points that escalate the tension, like when Romeo’s best friend Mercutio is killed by Juliet’s cousin Tybalt.

4 Types of Subplots

When coming up with writing ideas to enhance your main plot, think of using one or more subplots. These could include any of the following:

Mirror subplot: A smaller-scale conflict mirrors the main character’s in order to teach them a valuable lesson or illuminate how to resolve the conflict.

Contrasting subplot: A secondary character faces similar circumstances and dilemmas as the main character but makes different decisions with the opposite outcome.

Complicating subplot: A secondary character makes matters worse for the main character.

Romantic subplot: The main character has a love interest, and this relationship complicates the main plot.

6 Tips for Writing Better Subplots

When you’re writing a book, always brainstorm the best subplot ideas that can deepen the tension and make your main character’s scenario more complex.

Try these tips when you craft your next narrative:

Ensure that your subplots play second fiddle.

A subplot exists to support your main storyline but should never overpower it.

Subplots should end before the main plot.

The exception to this rule is a romantic subplot, which often concludes in the final scene.

Give your subplots a narrative arc.

Subplots are stories, too.

Create a narrative framework for each, though on a smaller scale than your main plot.

Use this technique to tell a supporting character’s story that affects the protagonist’s actions.

You might even incorporate flashbacks as a subplot, mirroring a character’s journey with something that happened in their earlier days, like high school.

Write character-driven subplots.

Just like your main story, characters should drive the action in a subplot.

Create foils that can highlight qualities in your main character.

These characters will either help or hinder the protagonist in the story.

Try a new POV.

Your subplot might provide information that your main character is unaware of.

If your main plot is told in first person, try changing the point of view in the subplot to third person.

Figure out how to connect the subplot and the main plot.

There are numerous ways to use subplots.

A parallel subplot runs throughout the entirety of the story, showing different sides of the same plot.

This builds suspense as the reader waits for the two plots to collide (think The Fugitive).

You can also write small, isolated subplots.

Briefly introduce a character who drops in early on, then revisit their journey near the end of the story to shed light on the deeper meaning of your main plot.

Ramp up the tension with a subplot.

Propel your main story with information revealed in your side stories.

Subplots are a strong medium for foreshadowing events, so use them to drop hints and clues.

Source

[stellarbit]

Grief

Word Count: 2.1k Pairing: None, platonic comfort Warnings: grieving the death of a pet, panic attacks, grief in general Summary: After the loss of your pet, you come to the Batch for distraction. a/n: Recently, I lost the center of my world and I'm devastated. This is a self indulgent attempt at comfort.

Grief threatened to crush your chest. Every breath was unnatural and hours of crying left your face raw. Hours that came from days of pain and fear - fear that the world was forever wrong.

Losing them tore you in half. Their death carved a hole in your life that consumed every thought of your future. A future you now constantly had to remember would never be the same.

In the immediate days following their passing, the world seemed an alien landscape without them. Hunger eventually drove you from the isolation of your quarters, but it was desperation for distraction that kept you from returning. That same desperation now found you at the skyport of Ord Mantel, standing silently at Tech’s feet while he worked under the ship.

No one had seen you in three days, but with your companion’s decline in health - it wasn’t a hard connection to make. Your extended absence made it so that the sight of you caught Echo off guard when he rounded the Marauder. Your sudden appearance nearly sent the spanner in his hand into orbit.

You remained silent as you stared down at Tech’s feet with a ghostlike appearance, not truly seeing. There was no life in your sunken stance - a stark contrast to your usual vibrant self. In lieu of calling out to you, Echo quietly approached.

Your lack of response was jarring. Normally, you wouldn’t have missed Echo’s presence, but your typical alertness was replaced by a hollow vacancy.

Then again, all other times you had a living shadow acting as an extension of you. It seemed that nearly a decade with this creature had made you dependent on their presence. They were woven into the very fabric of your day-to-day existence.

When he was only a few paces from you and you still hadn’t noticed him, Echo hesitated but broke the silence. 

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” His voice was low and cautious.

Against his expectations, Echo’s greeting didn’t jolt you. Instead, you gradually drifted your dead-eyed gaze to him with a flinch of a smile.

Echo’s greeting caught Tech’s attention. Finally noticing you, Tech ducked out from under his ship to find you looking back down at him. As he crouched his way out he said with pleasant surprise, “Oh, I did not notice you.”

Despite anticipating your next visit to be a solitary one, your unaccompanied presence unsettled Tech. The absence of your side kick felt was very off kilter and he'd not seen you quite this withdrawn before. 

You gestured to the Marauder, asking, “Need a hand?” Contrary to your haggard appearance, your voice was smooth as any other day.

From the bay door, Omega watched you hunch under the Marauder, settling into place as Tech and Echo left your side. As they stepped away, Tech shared a quiet look with Echo - it was worse than they had imagined.

Hunter appeared beside Omega, tracking your movements as Echo and Tech joined them. “How’s she doing?” Hunter asked as he assessed you from a distance.

“She seems to be holding up.” Echo sighed, turning to check on you again.

Tech’s hands squirmed at his sides. He wanted to scour his datapad and distract him from the discomfort of your company, but he remained present, albeit uncharacteristically quiet. “There is something off about her though.” Tech added in an unsure tone.

Omega shook her head in disagreement. “Of course she’s off.” Her eyes dropped momentarily, finding it painful to look at you for too long. “Seeing her alone is weird…” Glancing between her brothers, she shrugged a shoulder in your direction. “Imagine what it’s like for her, for years it was just the two of them. Now, she’s all alone.”

Determination worked its way through Omega the more she watched on. Watching you struggle stirred a deep desire to help. “We have to do something for her,” she announced, her voice firm with resolve.

Echo saw the cogs working in her head, saw the worried expression so similar to the ones sent his way. Having endured the void left by his core squadron, he understood the depths of loss and the scar it could leave. It was a scar he saw in your future.

“Omega,” Echo said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder. “There are some things we can’t help with.” Omega’s expression drooped, it hurt Echo to tell her and hurt her to hear. He struggled to find the right words to explain the rest. “This… what she’s going through… it-it’s something we can’t fully understand.”

Her expression hardened, determined once more. “But she shouldn’t have to go through it alone.”

Omega’s pure intentions warmed Echo. “You’re half right, Omega,” he responded softly. “While it’s true she shouldn’t be alone, this is something she ultimately has to face by herself.”

It was an experience solely singular to you. A pain only you could feel the full breadth of, but one your friends desperately wanted to share the burden of. 

“She should get off-world,” Omega suggested with a hopeful tone. “Be somewhere without memories.”

Hunter considered the idea for a moment. Seeing you work at half your normal pace discouraged further consideration. Gently, Hunter redirected the young girl, “That might be a tall order right now.”

Gently, Echo patted his sister’s shoulder. “Keeping her busy might be all we can do.”

Tech listened intently, his eyes never straying from you. His mind raced through a catalog of possible interventions, calculations and logic running their course. Ultimately, he concluded that there was nothing in his, or his squad’s, arsenal that could truly mend what had been broken. 

You’d lost an irreplaceable part of your life and were now alone in a way you hadn’t been in a long time - almost as long as Tech had been alive.  The magnitude of your loss was difficult for him to fully comprehend, as his attachments, though deep, were largely confined to his squad.

Tech recognized the stark contrast between how he and you approached the world. While he offered his expertise to strangers with a calculated detachment, you freely extended love and support, the kind that had been so generously bestowed upon you by your companion. 

He’d always wondered where that kindness was rooted. Now, the true source of your strength was painfully clear to him.

Without a word, Tech left his siblings to discuss their idea for helping you. He knew there was nothing he could say or do to remedy your loss, but he could at least make sure you weren’t physically alone.

Echo left to find Wrecker while Hunter and Omega headed back to Cid’s. They were all planning on sharing dinner with you. Even Cid, typically detached, showed her concern by agreeing to host the dinner, her gruff exterior softened by the situation.

So Tech watched you work, instructing you through the repairs and making a conscious effort to be more gentle than usual. You remained stoic, following his instructions with such precision that you might have been mistaken for a droid. Occasionally, Tech glanced at his datapad, instinctively seeking brief escapes from the heavy air that hung between you. While his intention was to support you, the task proved more challenging than he had expected.

Initially, the mechanical work seemed to distract you effectively. However, the relief was fleeting. As you delved deeper into the mechanics, your thoughts inevitably drifted back to your lost companion. The pain momentarily subsided was swiftly replaced by a resurgence of grief, disrupting your focus.

Your attention wavered enough that your wrench slipped and stripped the bolting you were adjusting. Panic took hold and you attempted to crank the bolt again, further stripping it.

Tech, noticing the commotion from a distance, set his datapad aside and approached to assess the situation. As he drew closer, he saw the growing panic in your actions; your hands shook so violently that the wrench couldn't find its mark.

Gently, he came up beside you, his movements deliberate and calm. Without a word, he took the tool from your quivering hands.

You hung your head low, collapsing onto your ass. Folding yourself into your hands, you murmured, “Sorry, Tech.” Your previously steady tone was now watery and broken.

“There is no need to apologize.” Tech said, lowering himself beside. He adjusted his goggles for a better look at the spot above you. “It is a minor fix.”

You didn’t - couldn’t - respond, only nodding. The mistake had thrown you right back into despair. The quaking in your hands took hold of your entire body. 

Watching you, knowing there was so little he could do, made him feel helpless. Tech diverted his eyes to the tool in hand. Feeling a profound helplessness, he gripped the tool tighter, his voice gentle as he ventured, “Is there anything I can do?”

Your response was a shake of the head, morphing into sobs that you barely managed to voice through.  “Can you bring them back?” The bite in your voice was discounted by a subsequent sob.

The idea had occurred to Tech. As a genetic replica of a man he didn’t even know, Tech could speak to the efficacy of cloning. Unfortunately, the idea was dimmed when it came to recreating the soul of your companion.

After all, it wasn’t the physical being you so loved, but their soul and their love. 

He’d seen the unique bond you shared. It was in the way they looked at you like you were their moon and stars, moved in perfect sync with you, and seemed to want nothing more than to see you smile.

They were, in every sense, irreplaceable 

Defeated, Tech could only confess, “I cannot.”

You already knew that, yet hearing it confirmed broke you again. You curled inward, your body shaking as sobs wracked through you. Suddenly, your head snapped up, a gasp slicing through the heavy air. “Oh, stars,” you choked out, the realization hitting you over and over.

Squeezing your eyes shut, tears fell down your face. In broken, sobbing words you said, “They were sick and I didn’t even realize. I waited too long”

Tech’s eyes widened slightly. “Do you blame yourself?”

A feral intensity flashed through you, and you whipped around to face Tech. “Of course I do!” you yelled;

Tech, unflinching, met your gaze steadily. “They were receiving treatment, you were—”

“They were getting worse and I didn’t catch it!” Your anger at yourself flared high. Shaking your head, a far off, horrified expression came over you as you slowly crumpled again. “I thought they were… oh stars.”

Discarding the tool, Tech slid closer to place a hand on your back. He lowered his voice, trying to anchor you back from the brink of despair. “You did what you thought was best based on what you knew.”

The hyperventilation calmed, but it left behind a vacant stare. “Then they deserved better than me,” you murmured, the guilt in your voice like a physical weight.

Tech’s response was immediate and resolute, “You cannot say that,” he countered. His voice carried a hint of urgency, not just to contradict but to correct a harmful thought. “They were cared for and you cherished them - that is what they deserved and exactly what you gave. Grief might cloud your view, but it doesn’t change the care you devoted to them.”

His grip firmed on your back and he insisted, “You cannot let your regret taint your love for them or their memory.”

You blinked at Tech, tears continuing to fall as you whispered. “Tech, there is a happiness I will never taste again.”

Tech resisted the urge to confirm that sad truth aloud, choosing instead to offer comfort through actions - a gesture he had learned from Omega. Rubbing circles on your back, he coaxed out another pained whine from you.

“I miss them so much,” you confessed, your voice breaking with each word.

“I know.” Tech hesitated for a moment, considering the breadth of your anguish. Slowly, he closed the gap between you, tucking his arm around you in a rare display of overt affection. “I believe they miss you too.”

There was no fixing this for you. There was nothing to stop your pain. He didn’t understand all of the complexities in your loss, there was no one who could, but he could remind you of a few things.

Of the flawed perspectives born in your grief. Of it not being your fault. Of the bond he’d witnessed. 

In hopes of calming your nervous system, he squeezed you a little tighter. “We may not understand every detail of what you’re feeling, but we’re here. We’ll stay with you, for as long as you need.”

****

taglist: @baddest-batchers @jetii @bruh-myguy-what

a/n: I love you, Seneca.

[zapreportsblog]

Yandere Caius X reader

Caius is quite protective and strict when it comes to the reader. That includes, not leaving the castle grounds and only speaking to kings including himself and the guards only.

One morning reader opens their eyes and sees that it’s snowing outside. Readers eyes immediately lights up as she sees the white and cold sky.

And so the reader decided to have a little fun and dresses up for the cold air to play outside in the backyard where the flowers usually go and where Markus usually takes his daily strolls, Caius DID say to stay at the castle grounds.

As she went outside and started playing and making a snowman, Caius on the other hand was furious that the reader might’ve ran off somewhere and was about to have Demitri do a search only to hear the readers soft laugh.

As he goes outside he sees reader making a snowman with a bright smile on her face making Caius calm down and gets distracted from her.

When reader noticed Caius was watching she decided to have a bit of fun and throw a snowball at him, which Caius decided to play readers game and throw one back.

After a while Caius notices that the reader is cold so he brought them back inside and to the kitchen to make them a hot chocolate.

This is just fluff with a dash of protectiveness❤️🤭

You guys are out of control, we all know yandere Caius would lock us up in a tower 😔🤌🏾

❝caius, knows best❞

✭ pairing : yandere caius volturi x reader

✭ fandom : twilight x reader

✭ summary : (y/n) is the mate of caius, and let’s just say he pretty much controls her every being but it’s only because he wants her to be safe. After all Caius knows best.

✭ authors note : l swear you twilight fans come up with the most interesting ideas but girl, yandere Caius? Oh nawwww

✭ twilight masterlist

Deep within the ancient halls of the Volturi castle, (y/n) found herself ensnared in the web of Caius's possessive and overprotective nature. Ever since she had been discovered as his mate, her life had become a series of intricately woven rules and restrictions that bound her to the castle grounds.

Her every move was under scrutiny, and Caius's strict demeanor ensured that she adhered to his expectations without question. The rules were clear—she was to remain within the castle's walls, her interactions limited to the kings and the guards who patrolled the grounds.

It was a life of isolation, one that (y/n) had grown accustomed to, if not resigned to. Her connection with Caius was undeniable, the mate bond pulsating between them, and she could sense the depths of his possessiveness that knew no bounds. His protectiveness, while suffocating at times, was also a testament to the intensity of his feelings for her.

Days melted into nights within the castle's walls, and (y/n) found herself navigating the elegant chambers with a sense of grace and poise that had become second nature. The castle's grandeur was a stark contrast to the confines of her restricted world, a world where Caius's gaze lingered on her every move, his eyes a blend of adoration and caution.

When she did interact with the other members of the Volturi, (y/n) treaded carefully. Her conversations with Aro and Marcus were measured, her words chosen with precision. She had learned to navigate the complex dynamics of the ruling coven, understanding that her presence in Caius's life meant she had a role to play in their intricate balance.

But there were moments when (y/n) longed for a taste of freedom, a chance to explore the world beyond the castle's walls. She would stand by the towering windows, gazing out at the moonlit landscape, her heart yearning for a life beyond the confines of her gilded cage.

Yet, Caius's presence was a constant reminder of the love and devotion he held for her. He moved through the castle with an air of authority, his gaze never leaving her for too long. His actions, while controlling, were also infused with a tenderness that he reserved only for her. In his arms, she found solace from the constraints of her existence, a reminder that she was cherished and valued.

As the days turned into weeks, (y/n) began to find a delicate balance between her own desires and the expectations that bound her to Caius. The world outside the castle may have remained elusive, but within its walls, her love for him bloomed amidst the thorns of his possessiveness. And while her heart yearned for more, she knew that she was at the center of a love that transcended time and boundaries—a love that was as unyielding as the ancient stones that formed the foundation of their world.

Bundled up in warm attire, (y/n) stepped out into the snowy morning, the chill air tingling against her skin. The grounds of the Volturi castle were blanketed in pristine white, the snow creating a serene landscape that stretched out before her. Her eyes lit up with childlike excitement as she gazed at the glistening world that had transformed overnight.

With every step she took, her boots left a trail of footprints in the snow, evidence of her playful exploration. The cold air felt invigorating against her cheeks, and she couldn't help but let out a laugh as she spun around, her arms outstretched like a bird in flight.

The garden area, usually a burst of color from the blooming flowers, was now a canvas of white. (Y/n) could almost imagine the flowers peering out from beneath the snow, as if waiting for the warmth of spring to awaken them once again.

As she ventured deeper into the garden, she noticed a small bench tucked beneath a tree. The sight brought a fond smile to her lips, knowing that Marcus often sat there during his strolls. She imagined him here, surrounded by the beauty of the snow-covered landscape.

With a mischievous glint in her eyes, (y/n) moved to the bench and began to shape a snowball with her gloved hands. The cold, powdery snow compacted easily, and soon she had a perfectly round snowball in her grasp. Looking around with a playful grin, she took aim at a nearby tree and let the snowball fly, watching as it hit the trunk with a soft thud.

Her laughter echoed through the air as she continued to throw snowballs, each one finding its mark with unerring accuracy. She was lost in her own world of winter wonder, the joy of the moment washing away the constraints of her usual routines within the castle walls.

Meanwhile Caius paced back and forth, his expression dark and brooding. "(Y/N)," he muttered under his breath, "where in the world have you gone?" His anger boiled within him, his thoughts spiraling into worst-case scenarios. Had she run off? Abandoned him? The very idea gnawed at him like a relentless storm.

Just as he was about to call for Demetri to track her down, a faint sound reached his ears. Laughter. His head snapped toward the courtyard, disbelief warring with relief as he spotted her there, a mischievous grin on her face. The intensity of his emotions, from fury to exasperation, was replaced by a curious mixture of irritation and fondness.

Caius' gaze locked onto her as she gathered a handful of snow, her intent clear in the sparkle of her eyes. Without warning, the snowball whizzed through the air, narrowly missing his shoulder. The audacity! A rare, almost incredulous smile twitched at the corner of his lips.

He brushed the snow from his shoulder, his movements deliberate. The tension that had weighed on him began to unravel. In a swift and fluid motion, he crouched to pick up his own snowball, compacting it in his hand. With a calculated toss, he sent the snowball sailing toward her.

Her startled gasp and the way her eyes widened fueled his determination. He was not one to shy away from a challenge, after all. As the snowball hit her arm, a startled laugh escaped her lips. Caius' heart raced as he watched her reaction, the atmosphere between them shifting palpably.

What started as a playful exchange quickly escalated into a full-fledged snowball fight, each throw accompanied by a burst of laughter and an occasional yelp. The tension that had filled the air earlier was replaced by an electric energy, a connection formed through their shared antics.

Caius' stern facade cracked further with each throw, revealing a side of him rarely seen by anyone else. And as for (Y/N), her eyes sparkled with a mixture of amusement and genuine affection, finding joy in the simple act of playfulness.

Amidst the flurry of snow, their laughter intertwined, forging a bond that transcended the usual formalities. Caius had played her game, and she had matched his intensity. In that moment, they were not the stern leader and the confidante, but two individuals allowing themselves to revel in a carefree moment, where laughter and snowflakes danced in harmony.

As the snowball fight between Caius and (Y/N) continued, a playful spirit seemed to envelop them both. Laughter echoed through the courtyard, and even Caius found himself caught up in the exhilaration of the moment. Yet, amidst the joy, he couldn't help but notice the way (Y/N)'s cheeks had turned a rosy hue, and how she shivered every now and then.

His concern for her well-being surfaced, overriding the playful rivalry that had taken over. Caius stopped in his tracks, mid-throw, and eyed her carefully. "Are you cold?" he asked, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. (Y/N) chuckled, brushing a few snowflakes from her hair.

"Just a little," she admitted, her breath visible in the crisp air.

Without another word, Caius walked over to her and held out his hand. She looked at him, puzzled. "Come," he said, his voice soft yet commanding. "Let's get you warm."

Inside the castle, the contrast between the chilly courtyard and the cozy interior was striking. Caius led (Y/N) to the kitchen, where the warmth from the fireplace enveloped them in a comforting embrace. He motioned for her to sit at the large wooden table while he went about gathering the ingredients.

As he set a pot of milk on the stove to heat, his movements were efficient and precise. Caius rarely engaged in such domestic tasks, but the sight of (Y/N) sitting there, wrapped in her own thoughts, spurred him to act.

Soon, the aroma of cocoa filled the air as he stirred the mixture, the chocolate melting into the milk. He poured the steaming liquid into two mugs, the clinking of porcelain breaking the silence. Sliding a mug in front of her, he met her gaze with an unspoken question.

(Y/N) looked up at him, her eyes softening with gratitude. She wrapped her hands around the mug, savoring the warmth that seeped into her fingers. "Thank you, Caius," she said, her voice a hushed murmur.

He inclined his head, acknowledging her thanks with a nod. For a moment, their eyes held, a connection forming between them that went beyond the snowball fight and the jesting banter.

As they sipped their hot chocolate, the tension that had been present earlier transformed into a different kind of energy—an intimacy forged in the simple act of caring for one another. Caius watched as (Y/N)'s expression softened further, the lines of her face relaxing in the flickering firelight.

In that quiet moment, surrounded by the warmth of the kitchen and the shared understanding between them, Caius and (Y/N) found themselves in a space that was both familiar and yet unexplored—a space where vulnerability and camaraderie intertwined, leaving an indelible mark on their connection.

[writing-with-sophia]

I don't know if you have ever done this type of genre before, so feel free to ignore this ask, but... Do you have any good tips or advice for writing horror stories? Like psychological and creepy stuff.

Love your blogs btw!! <3

Tips for writing horror stories

Awww, I love you guys too! Unfortunately, horror is not my strength, and I have never written a horror story before. I tried my best to write this, so if there is anything wrong, please tell me!

Tap into primal fears: Identify and explore universal fears that resonate with readers on a deep, primal level. Fear of the dark, fear of the unknown, fear of isolation, and fear of loss are all potent sources of horror.

Create suspense and tension: Build suspense by gradually escalating the stakes and creating a sense of impending doom. Use pacing, foreshadowing, and cliffhangers to keep readers engaged and on edge. You can also use short, consecutive sentences to create a sense of urgency and suspense.

Establish a chilling atmosphere: Set the tone and mood of your story through atmospheric descriptions. Utilize sensory details to immerse readers in a dark, foreboding, or eerie environment. Utilize the power of the unknown to create fear and anticipation. Sometimes what is unseen or left to the imagination can be more terrifying than explicit descriptions. Let the readers' minds fill in the gaps and create their own horrors.

Develop complex characters: Create well-rounded characters with their own fears, vulnerabilities, and flaws. Make readers care about them, and then subject them to terrifying or psychologically unsettling experiences.

Use psychological horror: Delve into the depths of the human psyche to evoke fear and unease. Explore themes such as paranoia, obsession, madness, or fractured perceptions of reality. Subtle, psychological twists can be just as impactful as overt scares.

Cultivate a sense of the uncanny: Take ordinary, everyday situations or objects and twist them into something sinister. This can create a stark contrast between the familiar and the horrifying, intensifying the impact on readers. Play with distorted reflections, doppelgangers, or seemingly ordinary objects that hold a sinister presence.

Leave room for interpretation: Allow readers to fill in the gaps and imagine the worst. Suggest horrors rather than explicitly showing them, leaving room for the reader's imagination to amplify the fear.

Build anticipation and reveal strategically: Tease and withhold information to keep readers engaged. Gradually reveal unsettling details or unveil the true nature of the horror at opportune moments for maximum impact. You can subvert their expectations and challenge their assumptions to keep them engaged and off-balance.

Explore taboo subjects: Fear can be evoked by exploring taboo or uncomfortable subjects that challenge societal norms. Use these themes tactfully and with sensitivity to create a disturbing effect.

Experiment with narrative techniques: Consider using different narrative perspectives to provide varying viewpoints and insights into the horror. First-person narratives can intensify the reader's connection with the protagonist, while third-person perspectives can offer a broader view of the unfolding terror. Use non-linear storytelling, unreliable narrators, or fragmented perspectives to create a sense of disorientation and psychological unease.

Study the genre: Read widely in the horror genre to understand different approaches and techniques. Analyze what works in other stories and adapt those techniques to your own writing style.

Edit with a critical eye: After completing your first draft, take the time to review and revise your work. Look for areas where you can heighten the horror, strengthen character development, or refine the atmosphere. Trim unnecessary details and ensure that each scene contributes to the overall sense of fear and unease.

If you want to read more posts about writing, please click here and give me a follow!

[stelladess]

I find it odd when people frame lore revelations as being some sort of opposite to character development as they often are pretty heavily connected.

There are tons of examples like the mechanics of how the seaborne works being actively thematically important for multiple of the stories with them for example.

Kal´tsit being a synthetic being created by a now gone precursor civilization isn't just random lore fluff, it informs her character. Why she feels isolated and set apart from people and it makes her strong love for the people of Terra more meaningful because it would be easier for her to justify that she does not have to care about them because she is not one of them. But she does care about them! She considers herself part of Terra and responsible for helping people, something which clearly makes her feel very guilty for "failing".

spoilers for Babel event and chapter 14 below:

The doctor´s entire motives for betraying Theresa only make sense from their past and the goals of the precursor civilization. Those reveals do not undermine the character drama but enhance it, the contrast between the doctor wanting to be able to help people like Kal´tsit, Amiya or Theresa clashing with their mission to ensure originium absorbs everything. They know what they are doing is wrong but they feel like all choices are wrong and the one they have a duty to fulfill is the one that required betraying Theresa. I also think a nice detail is after the doctor made up their mind to betray Theresa they start referring to Kal´tsit as AMa-10 in their inner monologues and stop trying to think about Amiya at all. Pressumably sort of trying to dehumanise or ignore the people they know they will hurt because it makes it psychologically easier for them to go through with it, this is especially notable since the doctor gave Kal´tsit her name in the first place.

And when we get a bunch of weird reveals about originium and the past civilization in chapter 14... its mainly used to get some interesting character interactions between Kal´tsit and other characters and to facilitate the situation that allows for the confrontation with Theresa, also the stuff relating to the sarkaz souls stuck there is to explain why Theresa would willingly work with Theresis despite his uhm... evil aspirations, furthermore it is also to finally reveal a bit more about what Priestess was actually like as a character.

Heck back in Lone trail while the stronger character stuff was elsewhere (I especially love the Ifrit and Rosmontis focused stuff) the sarcophagi and Friston stuff is mostly to give some more insight into characters like Ho´oleyhak, Kal´tstit and doctor, introducing us to Mark Max and giving an actually believable reason for Kal´tsit having to burn her bridges with the Tin Man, causing Rhodes to be in pretty hot water with the Columbian government.

I find the idea that the story is deciding to "stop doing character focus to do lore" absurd quite frankly.

World building is important! What makes Arknights unique compared to a lot of other popular gacha games is in large part the world and history. Arknights characters are well written, but in particular they are well written in the sense that Arknights is good at showing how the world they live in shape people into who they are. Learning more about that world to explore it in greater depth is not contradictory to the goal of interesting character writing, it helps it.

[findmeinthefallair]

The contrast is so poignant when it comes to Belos isolating Hunter for years and instilling the fear of wild magic, versus Hunter's future in carving palismen to connect with nature and with others.

We have his signature gloves as part of all his outfits before he went to the human realm, representative of that isolation and fear: Belos wanting to keep 'Caleb' to himself, wanting to prevent Hunter from forging connections and thus finding freedom. The gloves come off once Hunter has room to create and experiment and explore.

During the many many months in between him beginning to learn the palismen-carving craft and us seeing him mastering it in the epilogue, there would've been many setbacks. Many cuts and splinters via mistakes (thus, more wounds and scars...small, but numerous) and bandages on his hands, like what happened with the sewing needle. Thus, many times when he was reminded of what happened with his best friend. I can imagine that on the more difficult days of learning under Dell, remorse and horrible memories eating into him, he'd be more at risk of leaving more cuts because it would be harder to focus. There would've been days where he got close to giving up.

In his arc, this changed everything:

He was found by a free-spirited, strong-willed palisman.

This was when things began to be truly dangerous:

but by then he gathered enough courage to finally question Belos directly.

What a high price to pay. Recovery from trauma is certainly that way in real life too. But it led him on that path towards transformation, towards what he truly wanted.

In his old life, he'd point a staff at others to intimidate, to instill fear, and be Belos's instrument in furthering a cause that Hunter didn't truly support.

In the future, he generously gives palismen to others from the heart, via new creations made with his own hands, to bring more love, connection and wonder into the world. Letting others live out their truth via the bonds forged with their new palismen, the same kind of truth he himself had to fight so hard for.

If we rewind back to what the Bat Queen said in Hunting Palismen:

contrast that with this point in Hunter's arc:

Still blocked and numbed out from fully experiencing the worst thing he had ever been through: being possessed and in that process, slaying Flapjack.

Willow and Gus had just began to reach that vulnerability within him, moving him with their love and support (which is why the anger he had for around 2/3 of For the Future began to subside).

But it wasn't enough.

In the finale, he gets some temporary respite and relief:

But I believe the real gruelling work was to begin beyond this exact point:

More vulnerability ahead, to pave the way for healing.

Putting the scene of him looking at the old Flyer Derby photo (in For the Future) next to the scene where the Bat Queen sums up what palismen are all about...it indicates to me how steep the climb would be to connect with the full range of his emotions and memories, which parallels his development under Dell's mentorship. To bring some beauty out of that horror he has endured. To bring about the conviction that yes, he deserved Flapjack's gift, from Flapjack's sacrifice.

It would've been years before he would confidently and effortlessly rest in the truth of who he really is, and who he would like to be (remember his "Even if I'm not who I'm supposed to be, I like who I am right now" in front of the mirror, right before getting possessed?).

Liberating himself from enmeshment with his violent abuser and that old life, a process he'd have to repeat again and again even beyond Belos's death. Changing that narrative of "supposed to":

into freely choosing the person he would like to become after Flapjack granted him love and literal life. We receive the one clue that he wanted to freely choose, as early as this scene:

When it comes to palismen, we have "emotion" and "conviction" and also the deepest wishes that witches have in their hearts.

For emotion to flow freely, there must be vulnerability, generosity and love: Hunter integrating even the most difficult emotions into his story.

For him to grow into acceptance of his future major role, it would have involved wrestling with many questions to reach that place of conviction.

[commsroom]

"such a big, big universe, and you only ever gave yourself the tools to think about a tiny portion of it" is such a striking line because at its core it is - like everything in am i alone now? - about loneliness.

i think a lot about the writers saying that eiffel tends to drive conversation in a scene, while hera more often resists it - that eiffel is defined more by what he says, and hera is defined more by what she doesn't say. eiffel is good at getting hera to open up, but he can take things at face value, and really listening to hera means he needs to learn what she says isn't all of what she means. she has to navigate both vocal restrictions and social barriers that he does not.

and hera's monologue in am i alone now? lives at the heart of what she can't say. it's this contrast of emotions between the connection she desires and the isolation she feels doomed to. the frustration that she's always there, but equally feels she's never really anywhere. she wonders aloud if she'd miss eiffel, but she doesn't really wonder. she's rationalizing her loneliness, current and dreaded future, but she knows - when she talks to nobody, she's talking to him. she observes the last gasp of a distant star, and her thought is of him; she watches a solar storm, and wishes she could describe it to him in a way he could understand. she calls him doug.

the irony, of course, is that hera's perspective is also very small and very personal, and that her desire is not to understand more of the universe, but for her part of the universe to be understood. the idea of giving names to colors no one else can see is a powerful metaphor when taken in the context of being surrounded by people who, even if they care, fundamentally cannot understand what it's like to navigate the world as a person like you. and i think there's something equalizing (and humanizing) in acknowledging that every person's experience is individual and subjective, and that all communication is just an attempt to bridge the gap.

so i don't think it's an appeal to the big picture, or even so much a statement of wonder, as much as it is an expression of a very simple, very human desire: i wish you were really listening to me. i wish you could see the world as i see it.

[elizaleclerc]

How I love your writing so much! 😭 I saw that you are taking requests / ideas so maybe something of Charles x famous singer reader where they break up and everyone kinda thinks he broke up with reader or it was just a mutual breakup but then reader comes out with a song similar to midnight rain by Taylor swift and ppl piece the pieces together + the lyrics and kinda realize that Charles proposed and reader said no. Just something angsty and with Charles and reader they tried remaining friends but obvi are still in love with reader just isn’t ready for such a commitment. Thank you and love u 😭

tysm for this amazing request xoxo

float in your orbit 🪐

charles leclerc x reader

summary: famous fem singer!reader releases music about her surprising breakup with long term partner charles leclerc

songs: i can do it with a broken heart by t.swift , this is me trying by t.swift , wildflower by b.eilish , champagne problems by t.swift , chloe or sam or sophia or marcus by t.swift :)

author's note: ahhhh my first request!!!! the topic is right up my alley i love love love it. hope u love it too <3 plenty of angst ahead for u x

word count: 2k

With a heavy heart, your fingers traced the same piano note over and over again. The sound was monotonous, a stark contrast to the busy and lively world of your recent world tour. Now, back in your New York City apartment, life seemed dull and uneventful. It was even more glum now that you were alone, with no one to share your thoughts and experiences with.

You sat hunched over the piano, staring at the black and white keys in front of you. Your eyes had a distant glare, as if lost in a deep and melancholic reverie. The city sounds outside seemed muted and far away, as your mind was stuck on pause. Every memory felt like it was on repeat, playing over and over again.

In this moment of isolation, all you could do was sit and reflect on the ups and downs of your career, the highs and lows of fame. The emptiness inside seemed to grow with each passing moment, until it consumed your whole being. You were trapped in a bubble of loneliness, yearning for human connection but unable to break free from the walls surrounding you.

Charles had been your partner for five years. When you were first rising to stardom in the music world, you received an invitation to perform the national anthem at a prestigious Formula One race. As you stood on the track, your heart pounding with nerves and excitement, you caught sight of Charles, one of the esteemed drivers. The connection between you was immediate, a spark of recognition and attraction that lit up the air around you like fireworks. In that moment, you knew that love at first sight wasn't just an empty phrase, but a tangible reality. You could feel it deep within your bones, a warmth spreading through your body that told you this was meant to be.

A deep ache, like a heavy weight, settled in your chest as silent tears fell down your cheek. The emotions swirled and collided inside of you - sadness, hurt, anger, and betrayal all jostling for dominance. Despite both of your chaotic schedules, especially with your tour this year, you had always made sure to prioritize spending time together whenever possible. But during the last month of your tour is when things fell apart.

It was like a sudden storm had swept in, tearing down everything you thought was stable and secure. At first, it was hard to even process what was happening. The shock and confusion were overwhelming, making it difficult to make sense of the situation. But as time passed, the anger and betrayal only grew stronger, raging like a wildfire inside of you. You released a new song two weeks after the split, I Can Do It With a Broken Heart. 

The media went into a frenzy. Fans from both you and Charles speculated on the recent events, but the lyrics in the song were simple and undeniable - Charles had ended things with you. You couldn't help but worry about the hate he must've been receiving, especially since the two of you hadn't spoken since the night everything fell apart. And to add onto the chaos, you still had a tour to finish, forcing a smile and putting on a brave face for the fans that had no idea of the turmoil within.

Being on tour was a necessary distraction, a way to keep your mind off of things. Yet as you lay in yet another unfamiliar hotel room, the same thoughts still haunted you. The rooms all looked different, but they were all characterized by the same sterile and impersonal feeling. The only thing that used to make them feel like home was the sound of Charles' voice on the phone. You would talk for hours, often until you drifted off to sleep, so even though you were physically alone, you never felt truly lonely.

Despite releasing a new single, the public still didn't have the full story of what happened between the two of you, and why you had broken up. With Charles choosing to remain silent in the media, you were left to navigate through it all on your own. It was a daunting task, trying to piece together your relationship and figure out where it went wrong without any input from him. But you refused to let his silence define your story.

Throughout your life, anxiety had been a constant shadow, lurking around every corner and following you wherever you went. It wasn't until a year ago that you finally sought help and medication for it. During this time of struggle, Charles was your unwavering rock, always there to hold you up and support you. Relationships in general were uncharted territory for you when you first met Charles, and the unknown of it all scared you most.

But as the months went by, he became your confidant, someone with whom you could share your deepest worries and fears during those late night conversations. He would listen with patience and understanding, easing your anxieties with his calm presence.

Yet when fate intervened and pushed him away from you, he was not as accommodating as you had hoped. You couldn't blame him entirely, but the void left by his absence consumed you more with each passing day. In an attempt to express all that you felt and lost, you turned to your songs as a means of communication – letting the lyrics speak for your heartache and longing.

In your next release, an EP of four songs would be put out into the world, the lyrics explaining everything. In the week after the release, fans had put all of the pieces of the puzzle together. You spent the hours scouring social media reading the analysis of your relationship, all of it correct but nevertheless heartbreaking. 

~

One particular post analyzed the meaning of the four songs perfectly:

this is me trying: This song is the beginning of the end. Y/N is clearly struggling mentally and is pleading to be understood that they are simply doing the best that they can do. It is a desperate call for affection and is riddled with self doubt. After such a long relationship, Charles could have begun to crack, and Y/N is trying to keep it all together. 

wildflower: This is clearly about Charles’s past girlfriend. He dated her for many years, and was speculated to be one of Y/N’s friends. The lyrics depict her struggling to get past the thought that Charles is actually over his old girlfriend, and she feels terrible about “betraying” her to date Charles. Further in the song the lyrics showcase that Charles clearly loves Y/N, but again her internal battle prohibits her from seeing the truth in their relationship as things seem to break further. 

champagne problems: This is the breaking point. Shocking to fans everywhere, this song reveals that Charles proposed to Y/N, but due to her already detailed mental struggles and anxieties, the commitment was too much for her to bear. The melody and lyrics are filled with regret and a tinge of shame for not being able to commit to Charles, no matter how much she loved him and vice versa. 

chloe or sam or sophia or marcus: The aftermath of it all, she details that even though she cannot commit to marriage with Charles she still loves him deeply and wishes that they could still be together. This caused fans to piece together that after she said no to the proposal, Charles ultimately cut things off.

~

With misty eyes, you read the post that brought back a flood of memories. The night he proposed in Monaco, the city where your love had blossomed and thrived, was etched in your mind with crystal clarity. In your shared apartment, tucked away from the bustling streets, the two of you had a private and intimate dinner that would change your lives forever. Warm flickering candles cast a soft glow over the dining room, while rose petals adorned the table and floor.

Despite being in the comfort of your own home, you both dressed to impress, savoring this rare moment when it was just the two of you. "You look absolutely stunning, mon chéri," he whispered as he gazed at you with adoration, making you feel like the most special woman on Earth. Every detail of that night was ingrained in your heart and soul, a cherished memory that would never fade.

Your hand rested on the white tablecloth, and he gently placed his on top. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt through your body. "Thank you, love," you murmured before he leaned in to place a soft kiss on the back of your hand. As the night went on, you caught up on each other's lives - him excitedly sharing about his latest Formula One race while you reminisced about your past tour experiences. But as the dinner neared its end, you noticed his fidgeting and asked him if he was okay. Suddenly, he stood up from his chair and sunk down on one knee next to you. Your heart skipped a beat, and everything seemed to slow down as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.

“Mon amour, I don’t want to spend another day without calling you my wife. You’re the most important thing in my life, and I want to spend the rest of it loving you and giving you the world. Will you marry me?” 

Your throat constricted as sweat formed on your palms. The words caught in your throat, refusing to come out. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen - not here, not now. Marriage was never a topic of conversation between you and Charles, but suddenly it felt like an inevitable future staring you in the face at this dinner table. You weren't ready for this.

“I don’t- I can’t-” 

~

Your fingers moved deftly across the ivory keys of your piano, playing the familiar beginning chords of "Champagne Problems." Tears continued to fall down your cheeks, leaving glistening trails in their wake. Memories flooded your mind as you played, memories of a love once strong and unbreakable.

But now, as you sat alone in the dimly lit room, you couldn't help but feel the weight of that love slipping away. You missed him with every fiber of your being. You yearned for his cheeky smile and the way his crystal eyes sparkled when he looked at you. The memory of his messy bed head first thing in the morning made you ache with longing.

The thought of living without him was unbearable. You longed for his laughter, how he would throw his head back and let out a hearty sound that always filled you with joy. You could almost see his nose crinkle in amusement at a bad joke, just as it always did.

And oh, how you missed those moments when he would wear his glasses, simply because he knew how much you loved the way he looked in them. You could picture him now, standing before you with that charming grin and those frames perched on his nose.

But now they were only memories, and you were left to play out this heartache through the melody of your piano.

The realization hit like a freight train, knocking the wind out of you. You couldn't fathom the idea of moving on from this moment, it was too pivotal, too raw. With a sudden surge of energy, you leapt up from your seat at the piano and frantically searched for your phone among the scattered sheet music and empty coffee cups. Your fingers flew over the keys as you dialed the number you knew by heart, each digit a familiar melody in your mind.

One ring, and he picked up.

[chemicalreal]

The jedi: the flawed order that failed the chosen one

Anakin's descent into darkness in Episode 3 goes beyond his personal journey and sheds light on the similarities between Anakin and the Jedi as well as the Sith and the Jedi. Anakin's ability to intuit and foresee the future primarily manifests through his dreams, significantly influencing his subsequent actions. Similarly, the Jedi's perception and knowledge of future events set the stage for a series of plots that culminate in the climactic events of Revenge of the Sith.

Anakin's immediate regret over killing an unarmed Count Dooku and later on Mace Windu echoing the same words as Palpatine did in the beginning, justifying the murder of an unarmed enemy, highlights the skewed perception he forms of the jedi order, portraying them as power-hungry and selfish, akin to the Chancellor, as well as the biggest hypocrites when it comes to their code.

Although Anakin recognizes that Sidious is malevolent and acting out of self-interest, he ultimately places the Jedi and the Sith on the same ethical level and his personal motive of saving Padme becomes the decisive factor in his decisions, leading him down a path of darkness where he rationalizes his terrible deeds with this premise.

The Jedi's inherent distrust of Anakin from his first day stemmed from their perception that his remarkable affinity with the Force posed a potential threat to their established order. However, this initial judgment proved to be a significant mistake that will lead to their failure, especially considering their recent discovery of an active Sith presence recruiting individuals to their cause. Anakin's journey into darkness begins with a profound sense of rejection by the Jedi Order, stemming from their inability to see beyond their arbitrary requirements and fully embrace his capabilities.

Apart from Qui-Gon Jinn, who recognizes Anakin's potential, the rest of the Jedi show little faith in him, leaving him feeling isolated and unwanted. Even Obi-Wan's decision to mentor Anakin is more out of duty to his late master's final wish than a genuine connection or belief in Anakin's abilities. Both Obi-Wan and the Jedi Order fell into the same trap as Anakin did in Episode 3 regarding their perceptions of the future, ultimately fulfilling their own fears regarding him and his perceived role. Qui-Gon makes the right call in his belief that an uncertain future doesn't inherently spell doom but rather depends on the choices individuals make. This contrasts sharply with the Jedi Order's fear of the unknown, a poignant irony given their professed stoicism and obsessive rejection of human emotions.

This mindset causes them to overlook significant aspects of their new apprentice, assuming they could simply be disregarded – such as neglecting the natural bond between parent and child. They believed that by finally admitting Anakin into their ranks, they could simply train him similarly to the young children who didn't develop yet long term memory to remember their parents. However, they lacked the empathy and the compassion to address his concerns about his mother, and they never attempted to create conditions that would allow him to let go of that worry, such as freeing her and ensuring her well-being in a comfortable planet of the Republic. Despite Anakin's valuable contributions to the Jedi on Tatooine and the Naboo army in episode 1, freely offering his assistance without seeking anything in return, the only jedi who was aware they owed him a lot and showed genuine care for him and his mother died in the midst of it all.

The avoidable circumstances surrounding his mother's death result in an irreparable rift, leading Anakin to lose trust in the Jedi when faced with similar situation involving his wife and the need to divulge the true nature of their relationship.

Qui-Gon's advice to live in the present, attuned to the living Force, echoes throughout the original trilogy, notably paralleled by Yoda in Episode 5. The 20 years spent in contemplative exile prior to his meeting with Luke make Yoda acknowledge some of his own past mistakes during the Clone Wars and learn from them, proving that no matter the age, life will always provide new lessons to learn. Initially prone to projecting into the future, Yoda's prejudiced view of Anakin in Episode 1 results in a series of missteps that contribute to his own failures. In contrast, by Episode 5, Yoda adopts a similar attitude to Qui-Gon's, counseling Luke that the future remains uncertain and emphasizing the importance of self-belief, confidence and trust in the force, exemplified when he explains that Luke's inability to move his ship with the Force stems from a lack of belief in himself.