#and that could've been the whole jump off to the affair. and again. she COULD and SHOULD still choose arthur

[lonesomedotmp3]

arthur's dad literally killed her dad. and it just doesn't come up ever. I need to kill everyone in the merlin writers room so bad

[oizysian]

XII. THEN WE’LL TALK

Word count: 1.3k

All Eyes on Me masterlist

•

Y/N, Lizzie called me crying. You need to talk to her.

It's been two weeks. You haven't streamed, you haven't gone out. What have you been doing?

I let out a deep sigh, rolling the blunt between my fingers, Brie's voice echoing in my head. Lizzie missed me. She needed me, but I was a coward and only knew how to run from people when things got complicated.

I sniffled, swallowing roughly as I thought about the woman I had walked away from completely for her own good. Without me in her life she could be happy with her husband without the fear and doubt of an affair hanging over their heads. Maybe she hadn't done anything wrong, but she could've. I definitely would've given the chance, but I would have regretted it. Just like I regretted everything I did.

I slammed my hand down on the cold tile in frustration and leaned my head against the sink, my mind racing as it had been for two whole weeks. The weed helped silence it for a while, but the more I replayed Brie's messages in my head, the louder my thoughts got about Lizzie.

Had I been wrong to walk away? We didn't do anything wrong. Not really.

I picked my phone up off the floor and unlocked it, browsing Twitter to get my mind off of literally everything.

CELEBRITY SIGHTING:

Elizabeth Olsen and Robbie Arnett were seen out and about in LA this week.

She looked good in the picture; happy, healthy, but then again, she was a good actress. They probably went out together on purpose considering it had been a while since they had been out in public with each other. Her last two sets of paparazzi photos were with me.

I licked my dry lips, quickly tweeting out that I was sorry for disappearing, but I was fine and streams would start up again soon. Almost instantly, comments flooded in wishing me well and hoping that everything was okay. I couldn't reply to everyone, so I just liked the kind comments and ignored the ones that were rude or mentioned Lizzie. Nobody needed to know my fucking business. I was still a person, I deserved my privacy despite what the world thought. And so did she.

The last two weeks had been hell between ignoring Lizzie's calls and texts and dealing with Brie and Claire trying to talk some sense into me. I knew they were right, that it was just gossip and Robbie would get over it, but the risk of her marriage ending because I had feelings for her was too much for me to ignore. Maybe she liked me too, or maybe she was just a flirty person - who knew, but what I did know was that I wasn't going to be the reason her marriage ended.

But, their marriage hadn't ended. According to Twitter, they were a happy couple and nothing was wrong between them. Which was good! So, why wasn't I happy about it?

At the moment, I wasn't happy about fucking anything. The only thing that could make me happy was Lizzie, and I let her go.

I brought the blunt up to my lips and inhaled deeply, wanting nothing more than to just forget for a little while. I kept the smoke in my mouth for a moment before exhaling.

Why was I making such a big deal about this? She barely knew me. I barely knew her. It was for the best that I ended our friendship before it became something more.

My phone rang, nearly making me jump out of my skin, and I peeked to check who it was. Brie. I took another toke and answered.

"Hello?" I said, my voice straining from holding in the smoke.

"Y/N? What the hell are you doing?"

"Smoking. Why?"

"Why aren't you speaking to Lizzie? Ignoring her like this isn't going to help the situation any."

"I'm making it go away."

"No, you're making yourself look like a child."

"Whatever, Brie." I released the smoke from my mouth. "What do you care anyway?"

"Oh, so on top of being a child, you're also gonna act like a bitch?"

"Oh, fuck you, man."

"Fuck me? After everything I've gone through trying to help you get the girl, you're gonna say 'fuck me'?"

"I didn't ask for any of this!"

"No, you didn't, but it all happened and you're in it now, so put on your big girl panties and deal with it."

"I don't want to. I don't want Elizabeth."

I lied.

"Then what do you want Y/N?" She asked with frustration in her voice.

"You."

She was quiet on the line and I knew I fucked up. I grimaced, leaning my face against my propped up knees. Why did I have to open my mouth and say stupid shit?

"You don't mean that." She sounded sad. "You're just hurting."

"I can be friends with Lizzie again if I'm with you." Why was I still speaking? "If Robbie sees I'm with someone, he'll leave her alone about her having an affair."

"Are you trying to use me to get back in Lizzie's good graces?"

"No! I-I'm just trying to fix this and make everyone happy."

"You being with me out of pity or ... whatever this is, will not make anyone happy."

"It's not pity, Brie. I like you."

"You like me. You love her."

"I love the idea of her! I don't know her and she doesn't know me! I know you. I know we can make each other happy. Please, Brie."

"We'll talk about this when you're sober."

"No, I want to talk about it now."

"Talk to Lizzie. Make up with her."

"If I do that, then will you be my girlfriend?"

"No."

"No?" Tears welled up in my eyes. First Lizzie, now Brie.

"You don't mean it. Prove that you mean it and I might change my mind. Until then, no."

It was wrong for me to use Brie to get over Lizzie, but it was true, I did like her ... just not the same way I liked Lizzie. I knew this was the only way I would be able to get close to Lizzie again. I had to be with someone, prove that I'm not a threat, stop acting the way I've been acting towards her. I needed someone.

"Go on a date with me. Let me give you a kiss goodnight. Let's watch the stars and pick one as ours. Let me treat you the way you deserve to be treated."

She didn't speak for a while and I thought for a moment that she had hung up on me.

"I'm not her."

I sighed.

"I know. I know who you are."

"I'll let you kiss me, but forget all that romantic shit."

"Okay, fine, no romance. Just us."

"So, you want to be friends with benefits?"

"No! No. I just ..." I rubbed my hand over my face. "I don't know what I want."

"That's the problem, Y/N. Make up with Lizzie. Then we'll talk."

"Brie -"

She hung up on me. I kicked the hamper in next to me in pure rage, knowing that I just fucked up another friendship. Either that, or Brie and I would be a different type of friend after this.

I put the joint out on my floor, smashing it into the tile and leaning my head into my hands, frustration seeping from every inch of my body.

Hot tears spilled from my eyes as I thought about Lizzie, as I thought about Brie, as I thought about the hole I kept digging for myself. Did I like Brie enough to be with her despite possibly having a connection with Lizzie?

The answer was ... yeah. I could be with Brie. Would I do it, though? Could I do it for Lizzie?

Was it fair to Brie? No, but we'd both get what we wanted. Wasn't that all that mattered?

•

@oh-thats-cute @marvelwomen-simp @dorabledewdroop @scarlie-johalsen-blog @annie-ahmelia

[sissylittlefeather]

A/N: Ha HA! Another one done! This is the 68 Special one that I promised y'all after the poll. It goes with my series that is currently unnamed, but includes Baby, What's Your Name, Goodnight, Sweetheart and Always, Honey. There are references to all three in here. It takes place before What Kind of Question is That? and Feels Like Forever. This is angstyyy, but the way the story is in my brain, the mid section is that way and the whole story is kind of tragic, in a way. It's very Catherine/Heathcliff (they should be together but can't be for some reason). I didn't set out to write a tragic story, but there ya go. It is what it is. I hope y'all like it anyway!

Also, don't be shy. Let me know what you think! I'd love to hear from you 😁

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, kissing, ANGST

Also, I'm using Elvis gifs for this one because I like actual EP here, but if it makes you happy to imagine Austin!Elvis, do you boo-boo.

I Missed You

It's been over 3 years since you last saw Elvis. This is the longest you've been apart since you met all those years ago. You haven't seen him since he got married or became a father. He did all of those things without you and it nearly broke you. Still, you'd had your own marriage happen and fall apart, too. You wondered if you'd ever tell him that it was because of him and the fact that you never could seem to stop loving him.

The year is 1968 and you just got off the phone with a friend of yours who works in Hollywood. According to her, Elvis is going to be recording a new show soon and they're looking for audience members. She called to see if you might be interested in seeing an old friend.

No one really knows what you had with Elvis. Well, no one but your old roommate. Still, despite your long history, he never made you public like his other girlfriends. Maybe it's because keeping you a secret made the romance hotter. Or maybe it's because keeping you a secret meant he could keep you all to himself. Either way, your love affair had always been something that only the two of you really knew about.

But an opportunity to see Elvis again is hard to turn down, even with everything that's happened between you. Perhaps seeing him one last time will give you the closure you need to move on. You decide to call your friend back and see what you need to do to be in that audience.

******

Now that you're here, you start to wonder if this was a good idea. You're sitting in the audience in your new mod-style pink gingham dress with white boots and a white headband. You wonder if he will even see you in the crowd. Will he notice the pink gingham?

Your hands are starting to sweat and you wipe them on your skirt, pulling on it to try to get it to cover more of your thighs. You're not a teenager anymore and this dress is starting to feel a bit ridiculous.

One of the producers of the show comes out to explain to the audience how to react to the "applause" signs. Elvis is coming out soon and you're starting to feel a little sick at the prospect of seeing him. You don't remember the last time you were this nervous.

And then he's there. On the small square stage, right in front of you, in black leather. Your heart jumps and your warm center gets a little warmer. He looks good. Not that you expected him not to, but he looks better than you could've imagined. He breaks into That's Alright Mama and you're instantly transported back to that first show where you threw your panties on the stage to get his attention. You start to laugh a little thinking about what might happen if you did the same thing right now. You'd probably get carried out by a security guard.

He sings 4 songs and then they do a set change to him sitting down with his old band mates for a kind of casual jam session. You're still waiting for him to notice that you're there. Part of you is starting to hope that he'll never notice and you can just slink back onto a plane and go home. Seeing him has enlivened every feeling you've ever had for him and you can't help but have flashbacks to every time he's ever touched you. You long to feel his strong hands on your body, his lips on yours, his fingers and tongue doing unspeakable things between your legs. You squeeze your legs together and pray that you're not going to leave a puddle on your seat.

And then it happens. He's walking around the stage singing again and he kneels just feet from you. You're in the second row, far enough back to be out of reach, but close enough to be visible. He looks out into the audience and your eyes meet. Ever the professional performer, he only freezes for a second when he sees you. You feel like someone dumped ice water down your back and it's suddenly hard to breathe. You want to get up and run out, but you can't. And just when you think he's completely unaffected by you, he closes his eyes and shakes his head. Then he stands up, turns away from you, and keeps singing.

But he comes back.

He walks around the stage like he's supposed to, but he always comes back to you and keeps his eyes locked onto yours for as long as possible before he has to move. Every time it happens, your heart skips a beat and you start to wonder how much more you can take. Just when you think you might melt from the intensity of his gaze, he leaves the stage and the producer comes back and says that filming is done for the day.

You sit there for a while and let the other people around you file out. Eventually you get up and head for the exit. You're one of the last people in the room as you head for the door. And then you hear someone behind you. You turn, expecting someone to tell you that you need to leave, but no.

It's him.

You stand and stare at each other for a good minute before he speaks. He asks a single question.

"Where can I find you later?"

You want to tell him to go to hell. Instead, you hear yourself say, "Hollywood Hilton, room 647."

He nods, turns, and jogs away from you back to wherever he came from. A man comes and ushers you out the exit door. You head back to your hotel in disbelief. You're not sure what you expected, but it wasn't that.

******

You're trying really hard to stop pacing in your hotel room. The clock on the night stand says 12:24am. You're still wearing the pink and white dress, mainly because you're too nervous to change into anything else, but you're barefooted now, your boots in a pile by the door. You tell yourself you are giving him until 1am and then you're going to bed. That's when you hear the knock on your door.

Your stomach tenses up and your heart jumps into your throat. You walk to the door and open it carefully. Elvis walks in quickly and closes it behind himself. You're reminded of the time he did that when you lived in the dorm and you almost laugh out loud.

"Who are you hiding from?"

"Everyone." He looks at you like no time has passed since the last time you were alone like this. He puts his hand on the side of your face and for a moment you let him. Then you move away from him.

"Don't."

"Honey, why--"

"You have a wife."

"And you have a husband. Never stopped us before."

"I don't have a husband anymore."

"All the more reason--"

"You married her, Elvis." He looks down at the floor.

"She has your baby. You're somebody's father."

"I know that."

"Then why did you come here?" He picks up your hand and kisses the inside of your palm, just like he did so many years before.

"I missed you." You want to take that hand and slap him with it. For a second, you really consider it. Instead, you pull it away from him and turn to face the window. If you look at him, you might give in.

He comes up behind you and touches your dress on your shoulder.

"You know I've always loved you in pink."

"It matches--"

"--the dress you wore on the first night. I remember."

That almost convinces you to turn around, but instead you shake his hand off your shoulder. You can't turn around. Not yet.

"Elvis, we said this was over."

"We've said that before."

"Yeah, but last time I thought we meant it."

He walks around in front of you and faces you. He seems afraid to touch you again.

"Baby, you know I could never mean it."

You cross your arms over your chest and look up at him. He looks different now, grown up and fully himself, but he's still the same boy from Memphis who said he would always be yours.

"No. Go home to your wife, Elvis."

You can see in his eyes that that stung. You immediately wish you hadn't said it, but you did and it wasn't untrue. He does have a wife to go home to and you have what? No one because you can't seem to move on from him. He's as much a part of you as you are of him.

"You know what you mean to me." You do know. But sometimes you just wish he would say the words.

You walk past him to the hotel room window and look out at the street below. They say New York is the city that never sleeps, but this town could give it a run for its money. There seems to be people everywhere. He speaks again, ripping you out of your reverie.

"You know, I could ask you the same question. Why did you come to my show?" You step back from the window and look up at the ceiling. That, you don't have an answer for. You're not even sure why you came. It's no use lying to him or yourself anymore. You turn to face him with tears in your eyes.

"I missed you."

It only takes him three steps to walk across the room and pull you into a deep and passionate kiss, his arms around you to keep you from pulling away. You know you should pull away, but you don't even try. You melt into him like snow in the rain, your mouths picking up a rhythm easily. Kissing him is familiar and satisfying and you begin to wonder why you ever stopped. You wrap your arms around his neck and let yourself get lost in him. He walks you backwards to the dresser and then lifts you up so that you're sitting on it. He runs both hands up your thighs and then grabs your hips, pulling them into his own. You break the kiss and moan softly into his mouth as you feel his hardness press into you. In a second, he has the dress up, over your head, and off. Your fingers shake as you undo the rest of the buttons on his shirt and push it off of his shoulders with his jacket, letting them both fall to the floor. The whole time, he's kissing you on the neck, on your chest, and shoulder, and jawline, and lips. It almost feels like he's trying to devour you whole. In fact, he bites the skin next to your collarbone at one point hard enough that you let out a small yelp. He knows you well enough to know that's a good sound. You grab the back of his hair and pull his head backward, diving into a deep kiss with heavy tongue. He almost breaks your bra, trying to rip it off of you and your panties don't stand a chance as he tears at them and throws them to the side. The button pops off of his pants as you feverishly try to get them off of him. He slides them off his hips and to the floor, letting his erection free to land against your thigh. The sight and feel of it there elicits a moan from your mouth and a good deal of wetness from between your legs. He pulls you to the edge of the dresser and pushes himself inside you. He slams into you heatedly and you both start to sweat. You can feel your climax building around him as he pumps. He's still kissing you all over your face and neck, dipping his tongue into your mouth periodically. Your hands grip his back as your fingernails dig into his skin. As many times as you've been together, it's never felt like this before. There's a desperation and need in both of you that's completely new. You wrap your legs around him and he carries you to the bed, still inside of you. You fuck for a while with him on top of you, until you push him into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. Then, you turn away from him and lower yourself onto him, holding onto his thighs for support. While you slide up and down on him, he reaches forward and makes circles with his finger on the spot between your legs that makes you cry out his name.

"Elvis, fuck!" You scream as your climax pounds into you from every angle, rushing through you from your center to your edges and back again. You turn around and push him back onto the bed. He moves himself backwards until he's fully on the bed and you can ride him easily. You're grinding your hips against him, so that he is so deep inside of you. Nothing seems to be deep enough to satisfy you tonight. You want to swallow him up and keep him there inside you. He moans and grunts while you work, obviously approaching his climax. He flips you over one last time and thrusts into you a few times before he shudders and cusses and fills you with his warmth. You're both dripping wet with sweat and covered in marks from the other's teeth and fingernails. He rolls over off of you and lays next to you, both of you breathing heavily. He picks up your hand and kisses your fingers.

"Oh, honey, I have missed you so much." He smiles at you and holds your hand on his chest. You get up and go to the bathroom, trying to forget that you just committed adultery with him. Again. When you come back, you get some panties out of your suitcase and put them on. Then, you climb back into bed, where he's arranged himself as if he's going to sleep there.

"Don't you... have to... go?" You ask tentatively. You think of his wife, probably pacing her room waiting for him to come home.

"No." He doesn't give any more detail and you don't ask. He puts his arm around you and pulls you close to him. "I'm staying here." He kisses the side of your head.

It feels so good to have him wrapped around you again. This won't be the last time you're together.

He waits until he thinks you're asleep, and you almost are, when he whispers,

"I love you, baby."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist: @itlover8000 @deniseinmn @elvisalltheway101

[x-birdsong-x]

1 7 10 and 13 for Warriors?

1 - Frecklewish. Not a compliment. Mapleshade too, but on a different scale because it's the people pushing "perfect victim" on Frecklewish that play along with two YouTubers' out-of-context words being used to say Mapleshade was evil from the very start actually. Appledusk plays a part here too. I'll come back to this.

7 - Frecklewish, again. She's angry. She's absolutely furious. She and Oakstar plan to raise the trio as weapons to kill Appledusk. She wants one to be named Birchface because she sees them as only extensions of him. Mapleshade did a bad thing- for the sake of her kits, in her eyes- but Frecklewish does not wait for a reaction of any sort before she pounces on her and slits her eyelid. It takes two full-grown warriors to pull her off. All in front of the toddlers she calls half-clan creatures and stopped giving a rat's ass about as soon as they weren't related to her. Their confrontation at snakerocks was not a case of Frecklewish being non-confrontational or Mapleshade provoking her for the entire scene. Frecklewish jumps at her and screams that she wished Mapleshade had died, and this is during Mapleshade talking about Frecklewish seeing her kits in the river and never mentioning Freckle doing nothing to aid her.

Frecklewish shouldn't have jumped into the river, of course not. But she saw the RC patrol and they didn't realize what had happened right away. If Mapleshade could be IN THE WATER and hear Appledusk calling for her, then Frecklewish could've yelled over the river as soon as she saw the patrol to make sure the kits got across the stones safely. She followed them out of camp in the first place, making it impossible for Mapleshade to hide them on the territory considering Frecklewish attacked her once already and as we hear in the snakerocks scene, wants Mapleshade dead. She doesn't care about the kits as soon as they aren't related to her. She's not a precious little baby constantly crying for a blankie. She's impulsive and angry and judgemental. She didn't deserve hell, sure, but the fandom should've been angry that Oakstar and Appledusk stayed sippin' wine in heaven while only she got booted, rather than immediately going to "she did nothing wrong!11"

10 - I can easily get into more of Frecklewish and Appledusk here, but lets go for Mapleshade being painted as evil from birth and manipulative from the start and pinned as "Appledusk's abuser" is revolting. I don't care that the fandoms precious pair of leading YouTubers said one thing that can be taken as them thinking this. That one video is not well-written and full of out of context things and them acting morally superior for not liking Mapleshade because that wasn't the trend at the time until the fandom 180'd the second the video gained traction. The title of the video alone is spiteful. I could directly quote and talk about one thing said in that video that isn't twisting a simple line from the book, but I think the fandom would hang me. It's ironic that Mo/onk/itti can come out with acknowledging that people will defend male characters while "pulling apart every tiny infraction a female character has ever committed" while The Mapleshade Problem is doing nothing but that.

On another end, people who script the MAPs "about" Reedshine should ask themselves why they need to woobify and sympathize with Appledusk to sympathize with Reedshine (because everything is about a man and female characters are just DLC for male characters). The way so many people see nothing wrong with Freckle and Reed being characterized by the fandom as sad all the time purely over a man and thinking about a man 24/7 says a lot. Spending her whole life mourning a man who had an affair behind her back and called his children mistakes and used her to fuel his crocodile tears apology is nothing Reedshine deserves.

Reedshine's got an attitude herself, telling Mapleshade to go away and that she caused enough trouble was blatantly bitchy and a horrible thing to do, but considering her husband is a dishonest, two-faced, chickenshit son of a bitch I think she has the right to a rude moment or two. And no, that's not applicable to me refusing to play along with or defend the fandom ignoring Frecklewish's actual character.

13 - The same answers all around. Frecklewish and Appledusk. I'm also fiercely anti-crowfeather and gray wing <3.

[jalebi-weds-bluetooth]

Hey Jalebi, Do you think Arnav's reaction for Khushi's suicide is right? Because it doesn't make sense does it, A woman who is ready to sacrifice her life so her better half can have a better life with the one she think he loves can possibly carry THE Affair? She was so selfless and crazy and innocent dint arnav see that when she's trying to jump off the cliff? And overall when he revealed truth dint he for a second thought that would make her jump off for real time? Honestly I would have a pushed him off the cliff 😂 after uttering such disgusting things. What would arnav fo if Khushi really jumped off seeing no hope in her marriage 🤷.

Hey Anon,

One of the things I've consistently said in this blog is that I never understood how they came to write the suicide scene. In fact I don't understand why Khushi's emotions post marriage had no importance. When Anjali attempts self-harm, we see the trauma and extent of that moment. When Khushi tries to kill herself... it's comedy?

Why? (This is not to pit the two women, it's just that I never understood the motivations behind writing such a daft scene).

The only sense this could be is Arnav believing Khushi is orchestrating an act and in fact if they were leaning on it they should've showed Arnav being triggered by it and raging on to how that how dare she lie about wanting to kill herself. You just cannot insert comedy here at all.

In fact they could've leaned to dark comedy with Khushi getting so exhausted by Arnav being so kind and so cruel at once that Khushi decides it's easy to say goodbye to the world. It could've been solid dark comedy with Khushi being like she cannot wait for his pain because it increases in each flow. Cause every time he's nice, it's met with even more pain. And this time, after their horrid marriage, she won't be able to bear it so might as well do it herself.

She could've lost her wits and sense of rationale because she was in such an abusive marriage to begin with.

And even if Khushi didn't want to kill herself - the ideation that she believes her husband might kill her, her constant fear of the man she literally sleeps next to, her easily wondering about her death are all grave signs of mental health issues. Just because she doesn't jump off the terrance nor intended to doesn't reduce the gravity in this matter.

And just how does Arnav not get triggered to his past is BEYOND me. They somehow wanted him to get angry on Khushi, be justified in his anger, and be justified that he does not believe her.

Arnav needs to be presented as right, and Khushi needs to keep crying.

Like... it doesn't make sense. Their whole argument as well doesn't make sense. Nothing in this scene ever made sense to me.

The show stopped making sense post Holi when Khushi thought the best thing to do to a man who has complete control over Payal's marital life is to annoy him enough to get him to kick her out of his life when, if annoyed enough, he can ruin Payal's life?

Like literally Akash-Payal's marriage exists with Arnav's approval. Nobody shuts up Mami better than Arnav and thus Khushi annoys him?

What the-

(For me the show made sense again when Khushi sensed Arnav's panic and then when Khushi fell off the cliff and he saved her)

And if Khushi died for real, Arnav would've been devastated.

Also, to be honest, I don't blame him a lot. Because he keeps asking valid questions - WHY would Khushi be quiet about Shyam? WHY would Khushi not tell anyone about this disgusting truth? WHY would Khushi want Anjali to stay married to such a man? The show does such a good job of cementing Arnav's mistrust on Khushi that they give Khushi nothing at all to create a defense or even be logical.

So yeah, that's all I can comment about this and you can read more about this on the following links;

“Suicide” Revelation

The suicide track analysis started by @honeybellexox

Why didn’t Arnav believe Khushi post the suicide revelation?

Shouldn’t have Arnav thought again about what Khushi said on Shyam?

What Arnav would have done if the misunderstanding had not been cleared in the 6 month period. Would he have allowed Khushi to go? And would Khushi stay back?

Khushi’s Imagination of Arnav Murdering Her, & The Suicide

Khushi’s Behavior Post Truth Revelation

Best,

Jalebi

[nyxknocks]

I support women's rights but most importantly I support women's wrongs. Not that I think the women in this movie did anything wrong, but if they did, I would support them. I digress.

So, I've had Ugetsu on my list of movies to watch on Max for well over a year now, couldn't remember for the life of me why. Watching it, now I do. I love me a good ol' ghost story. Too bad this left me mostly disappointed and frankly, pretty pissed off.

I didn't think I could be more annoyed at characters than Shige in Tokyo Story but I guess I forgot that men as a whole exist because wow. The men in this film suck massively. Selfishness and greed is most definitely the name of the game in this, as well as the male obsession with honor and notoriety. The two men essentially ruin their own lives (but more important the lives of their wives) in an effort to further their own selfish whims--money, status, glory, what have you.

The ending is insulting because you expect the message to at least somewhat be like "look, this is what happens when you stray from your family duties for selfish actions" but the men are fine? At the end? And they get their wives back, albeit halfway. They really made her haunt him forever and be happy about it after he wholly and fully married another lady, ghost or not. How is that justice? How does that make them learn their lesson, truly? That they can destroy everything they had and leave these women destitute and alone--one murdered while defending their son and the other having to resort to sex work after being assaulted. The lack of agency the women have is insulting even if it is period appropriate. If I died after being abandoned by my useless husband while he had an extramarital affair with a ghost, I would haunt him too but I wouldn't help him. That man would suffer every day for the rest of his life, smh. The kid can go back to the village elder, they took better care of him since clearly that dad didn't care one iota until his ghost wife and ghost home faded into ruin. Prick. "Why did you have to die" I will. Kill you.

I could not care less about the split narratives. The samurai one felt shoe-horned in and lack luster compared to the ghost one (though that could be my bias) and felt less developed. With more runtime, this probably could've been better, but alas. Disappointing.

Now. What I did like about this (besides the ghosts) was the MUSIC and AUDIO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh my god the creepy little bells from the moment you meet Lady Wakasa showing off that something just isn't quite right from the jump. Her lighting and dress is often ethereal, and the way they shot Ukon during the reveal of the whole ghost-bit was amazing. She was fully in shadow looming behind Genjuro while he was getting mind freaked. This is immediately mirrored when he returns and we get Miyagi fully enshrouded with darkness/shadows with the only light being on the sandals--which further mirrors the focus shot on the sandals left in the dirt during Ohama's assault. The make up was SO effective in making Lady Wakasa just uncanny and off, really setting her apart but mostly making you believe it's her sexual allure--that she's some temptress, not a ghost. I'm also a sucker for all forms of traditional music, so that fan dance scene was easily my favorite bit. Ghost lady? Check. Fan dance? Check.

This movie does excellent at portraying both men and particularly men in power as highly aggressive, selfish, and destructive. The samurai are not protectors--they are violent men who pillage like bandits do. Dutiful wives are left behind--to their death, or to be assaulted with no option left but death or sex work--and then expected to just pick up right where they left off when the men decide they learned their lesson and are ready to come back. No lesson is truly learned. So they went back to working hard, so what? What happens a year from now, when another big sell happens or he finds another grand dream? Pull the same stuff again, expect the women to take them back? She's stuck haunting him forever man !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I call bullshit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!