#as well as the telling a story that shows their outlook

[cjgladback]

[ID: The cartoonish 3D face of an anthropomorphic cactus lady with a yellow cape and large sunhat resting on her back. She is cycling through facial expressions from having both eyes and her mouth closed to open and back, with some asymmetrically mismatched timing showing her eyes and each side of her mouth are individually controlled. End ID]

Behold, the best part of character rigging (neck and neck with goofy poses before you fix automatic bone weights): doofy faces! It's been a hot second since I connected shape keys to a rig via drivers, either because I have learned the benefits of freely moveable face parts or because I haven't gotten as far as facial rigs on a relatively human face for a while. But this darlin's cute little u-shaped smile demanded the precision, especially when the animation of her face is so far down my priority list for recreation of a still image.

Therefore, stream this morning started with recalling and applying this process so that I can include facial expression in the actions once I'm back to the animation work. Then I got to improving the textures on the cactus herself--most notably the contrast between her "hair" and "skin" base colors and essentially overlining her mouth and eyes so they stay appropriately readable while closed. Not sure whether tomorrow will be about further texturing (basically none of the materials are complete, though the flat-color cape here is the most naked and taffy-like of what is modeled) OR about making the cactus spines less slapdash (they're currently an unapplied geo nodes setup that has some pop in and out when movement results in more or less surface area of a vertex color; now that I have more time and intend more smoothly animated close-ups, whatever they end up as needs to be applicable before the armature modifier). If I finish the cactus spines and add some more wobble control for her bangs, I could say I'm done with her and feel more comfortable getting a little messy with the cape rig that will have to reference her arms, spines and all.

[thisblogisblank]

I wanna make a Learning With Pibby au where, instead of the glitch coming and fucking everything up for everybody, Pibby and Bun-Bun just fall out of their show Backrooms-style, and they have to traverse the cartoon multiverse to get back home.

[cbrownjc]

"I'm the quiet you've been longing for." Or, in other words, Gentleman Death.

So yeah, there are people, rightly, laughing at Armand calling himself the "quiet" that Daniel's been longing for because if you know anything about their relationship, particularly with how it started, it was anything but quiet. Quite the opposite in fact.

But see, I think, when it comes to the moment in the image above, that is actually the whole point. Because this moment isn't from some point when they are romantically together. I think this moment is from when they first really meet and speak to each other after Polynesian Mary's. More importantly, I think this is sometime after Armand had stopped Louis from killing Daniel.

There is a great observation/analysis post here that notes the clothes both Armand and young Daniel are wearing, and how they match up to what they were wearing that night when they first encountered each other at Polynesian Mary's. So this moment above being either later that same night, or maybe even the next night after Louis attacked Daniel matches up.

And this moment is very much Armand offering Daniel an "easeful death." Namely, killing him, probably because of what happened with Louis. Armand likely only stopped Louis from doing so because he knew Louis would feel guilty about it later, as Louis doesn't actually like to know anything about his victims before he kills them. So Armand likely stepped in and stopped Louis to spare him from that and such guilt.

However, Armand probably also thinks Daniel now knows too much to risk letting him live. And so is going to kill him himself. And I think what we are seeing here, above, is one of the ways Armand will sometimes present himself to his victims. And I think it is something he learned from Lestat, which is to be "Gentleman Death."

It's been noted by the writers of the show that they were looking to drawn things from Anne Rice's short story, Interlude with the Undead, for Armand in Season 2. (A short story, btw, which you can read online here and here.) And, of course, the line about "easeful death" that we hear in the trailer can be found in that short story, not once but twice:

But if you notice, during the first passage, Armand also talks about being "Gentleman Death." The same exact thing Lestat said to Armand to explain his outlook on being a vampire during the time period when they first met; and basically upending Armand's entire worldview (and cult) under Les Innocents.

From The Vampire Lestat:

From Interlude with the Undead:

From the opening of Interlude with the Undead, we know that this whole short story was actually Louis telling Daniel something Armand had told him. Well, I think not only has the show cut out the middleman on that, but I think what they are about to do is show how very much Armand, in his own way, embraced Lestat's Gentleman Death mission statement for a time. Probably for a long time.

In the show, I think we are going to see Lestat give Armand his Gentleman Death monologue during the scene when these two images happen:

And I think, by the time Louis encounters Armand in Paris, we will see that he has, in his own ways and methods, adapted to that ethos of being Gentleman Death.

However, time does march on. And I do think Armand will begin to see presenting himself as such is beginning to not fit with the times he is now in. But it will still be one of the things he still will present himself as.

At least until Daniel.

Because I really do think when Armand presents himself in this way to Daniel, being a "quiet" (ie death) that he says Daniel has been longing for? Daniel is going to flat-out reject that.

Because Daniel doesn't want to die, no matter how many drugs he takes or the reckless behavior he may sometimes exhibit (during this point in time). What Daniel really wants is to live forever. The reason Louis attacked Daniel as he did was because Daniel asked Louis to make him immortal.

Death? Quiet? Hell no. Give Daniel Molloy immortality, thank you!

So Daniel is going to ask the same thing of Armand he asked of Louis. Which is for Armand to make him immortal.

And just like in the book? Armand is, at first, going to be taken aback. And then, intrigued by this brash (and beautiful) human:

This human whom Armand is sure is going to go completely mad at some point by the knowledge that vampires actually exist. But hasn't gone mad, no not yet:

So yeah, I feel that the "quiet you've been longing for" moment in the trailer is the moment when Armand presents himself as his own version of "Gentleman Death" and it flat-out doesn't work, probably for the first time ever. And that it doesn't work with Daniel is what starts The Chase between them in the show's universe; the show leaving out the 3-days or so that Armand locked Daniel in a cage before that, of course.

And all because of something Armand has been doing since Lestat first upended his life under Les Innocents centuries ago did not work on this one particular mortal. So, instead, Armand let him go to chase him instead.

And to hell with trying to seduce this human with promises of "quiet" because that sure as hell didn't work last time.

[cheriladycl01]

In your Dreams - Lewis Hamilton x FrenchOlympicBadminton! Reader

Plot: Lewis loves Golfing, Surfing and Skiing, so you’d think if he’d end up with an athlete he’d end up with one in one of his secondary sports. But no, hes with you on the red carpet of the debut of a movie airing about your life and your struggles before becoming the youngest Olympic Gold Medalist in Badminton, and having the most consecutive medals too.

Warning: lots of dark themes and undertones about your backstory in this one’s, specifically abuse in the system, parental pressures, grooming and SA (by an ex partner) etc

Credit to yuzuchupachups for the GIF

You walked along the red carpet outside the Leicester Square cinema where the exclusive showing of your new movie was occurring.

Lewis couldn’t keep his eyes off of you in that pretty red dress he loved. The moment he saw you in it, his brain had pretty much short-circuited and his only thoughts were off you.

He knew in the red carpet photos you’d be there radiant as ever and he’d be looking at you like some love sick puppy. But he really didn’t care, this was your night and he was here to support you … his fiancé.

“Thank you for being here tonight. I know it wasn’t easy to get time away” you smile up at him, holding him close to you and looking at him with an adoration he saw often. You knew he was busy with the season as it hadn’t started off as Mercedes Gad expected and he was under a lot of pressure from Toto that he’d been feeling overwhelmed most days.

“You know I’d do just about anything for you my Cherie” he said using the nickname you loved.

“I needed you here tonight” you smile pulling him into a kiss, the camera flashes instantly picking up speed and consistency making you giggle into the kiss.

“I know darling” he says keeping his hold on your waist tight as you walk past the photographers and paparazzi posing every now and then when they ask you to stop.

You eventually get to the people interviewing you, happier to be in a calmer than the one at the start of the carpet.

“Y/N it’s amazing to have you here tonight on the premier. Feeling right now?” She asks and a grin comes into your face.

“Amazing, honestly to have my personal story but out in such a raw and public way is such a helpful step for people who maybe or may have suffered the way I have an gives a message of hope to anyone who has ever felt the way I did that the road doesn’t end there!” You nod loving that you will be helping millions of people who have shared the same experience as you.

“So before we go in, tell us a little about the film!” She probes.

“Well, it’s starts on the note of me growing up pretty tough and with no outlook for my future, being tossed from foster to foster home, the hard times and abuse I went through there before I come across Patrick DuPont, who we know very well as my trainer and the main reason I ended up where I am today. It moves through my teens and realising I’m talented and some things and how I was naive enough to not see the manipulation and abuse I was put through as a result of that and how I was used by many. It guides you through my most important relationships with people both the most gnarly and the most pure. It’s a really moving and emotional movie that I know will being lots of people including myself to tears” you explain the rough synopsis to her, making her nod and check her pad in-front of her that an assistant was holding out for her.

“And obviously adding onto those relationships, who will we be seeing a lot of?” She asks and you nod.

“Obviously towards the start in my early childhood, you’ll see a lot of my foster parents and my childhood best friend Emilie Bustlen, as I grow up you meet Patrick and my main foster family. For legal reasons we had to change names around because of this so they are know as the Laurent’s before we meet Hunter Goshill, my ex partner and some of my competitors. Before we finally find a safe haven, in this man right here beside me” you smile pulling Lewis forward and closer to you, he looks a little shocked that he’s now in the full shot of the camera rather than off the the side and has a mic code to him.

“You guys met when Y/N was 19 and you must have been what 25, 26? How did that work in 2011?” She asks knowing that’s when you met.

“Obviously I met Y/N at a race, she was there alone walking through the paddock and I just fell in love with her. Once I worked out who she was having an Olympic gold medal I was introduced to her by my then team principle Martin Whitmarsh and I proceeded to win that race. Was Germany! Obviously the year after she was travelling to London for the Olympics and as my home country of course I came with her as it tied in nicely to my summer break. After that she was the one that convinced me to make the move to Mercedes and apart from proposing to Y/N that’s probably the best thing I’ve ever done” he admits.

“Woah, what a lovers story obviously prior to that, Y/N you were in a if you don’t mind me saying quite a pressured and dare I say toxic relationship with ex partner Hunter?” She asks and you nod looking down for a second before feeling a squeeze on your hand in reassurance.

“I mean it shows it better in the film that I can get into words, but I was very young and naive. I looked for anything that would give me the slightest bit of affection which I would often just confuse with attention. And of course that came from someone who was older than me, and knew how to take advantage of me, without it ever feeling like he had I’ll intentions because I was so desperate to feel. Lewis has thought me many things but being loved the right way is the best thing” you smile looking to your soon to be husband with pure love, no other intentions just two souls mingled together as they should be.

“Really a beautiful couple and a beautiful story, just is heartwarming finding out what you’ve been through and how Lewis has helped break those walls you spent years building. I’m so excited to see this movie, and everyone at home watching this is your sign to get to your local cinema and buy a ticket for In your Dreams: The Story of Y/N Y/L/N ” she smiles.

You nod beofre saying a polite goodbye and heading off.

You answer some more questions, some about the movie some about your goals for 2024 in Paris if you’ll get your 5th gold medal for Team France, some were as trivial as what and who you were wearing.

“God, I just want to go home to Roscoe now” you sigh as you enter the theatre, going to get some treats for you and Lewis while the movie is on.

“I know baby, just a little longer. Then we can get started on our wedding planning hmmm?” He asks looking over you and making you smile and pull him into a passionate kiss, teeth clashing and you pulling him in by the nape of his neck.

You walk past some critics giving them smiles and some small talk before they let you on your way.

You eventually sat with Lewis at the front row will all the cast and directors next to your guys as the film came up on the screen.

It was everything you’d envisioned. Tear jerking, heartwarming and moving. Lewis was brought to tears and many others in the theatre who didn’t know the full extent of your story were coming up to you after the film talking to you about your life and how your success had a whole new meaning to them now.

y/user

Liked by lewishamilton, nicorosberg and antonia.desplat

y/user: I’ve loved you since I was 19, now that I’m 32 and engaged to you, I wouldn’t want my life any other way. I love you Lew ♥️.

Thank you so much for paramountpictures making my story come to life in the new movie In your Dreams: The Story of Y/N Y/L/N

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paramountpictures: truly amazing to bring your story of strength, resilience and success to life.

-> y/user: thank you for putting your heart and souls into this project it really is magical 💥 Also thank you too, all of the actors and actresses in the movie antonia.desplat who did a fantastic job!

-> antonia.desplat: thank you for giving me this opportunity. This movie has been my big break as a struggling French actress! Merci Du Fond Du Coeur 🇫🇷♥️🥐

lewishamilton: I love you with all of my heart. I’m so proud of everything you’ve achieved this far and am proud to say I’ll be in your life for the remainder of your future successes and achievements. Je vous aime! 🐻❤️

-> y/user: Sir Lewis Hamilton - the man you are 🫶🏼

nicorosberg: that picture is so old, I took this years and years ago!

-> y/user: Nico Rosberg the OG Y/N-Hamilton shipper 🫶🏼

Instagram Story Caption:

Back on the grind 😮‍💨

Taglist:

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[riize119]

Soulmate! Anton⋆｡𖦹°‧⊹₊ ⋆

Soulmates work in the oddest way

• There isn't a set way to how you're supposed to find them or just know who is for you

• As far as you know, anyway

• Everyone else in your family either has the distinguishable mark on their body in the same place as their soulmate, or were given a time and place to be that suddenly appeared whenever the universe decided that they were ready

• You, on the other hand, had not even a single clue

• But you didn't mind

•You thought that it was kinda boring to just know who it is anyway

• Where was the adventure? The thrill of piecing it all together for yourself?

• Of course, there's always the problem that you get it wrong and have to try again but

• Whatever!!

• Right?

• As for Anton, he's been in shock ever since he was ten years old

• A rare soulmate story for some couples ends up being that one has known forever while the other had no idea

• In this case, it’s you having no idea.

•Anton, knowing, and being terrified to tell you for almost a decade

• It probably wouldn't have been such an issue if you two weren't best friends throughout your entire childhood

• He often doubted that you were his soulmate, only because you just seemed to show zero interest in him in t h a t way

• But you only did that to not be selfish

• You liked Anton. Actually, you loved him

• He was your closest friend and no matter what the situation was, your spirits were always bright and happy whenever you were with him

• You always heard that those kind of feelings were perpetual whenever you were with your soulmate, so you found yourself wondering if Anton could be yours

• But years have passed with no hint towards it being true, so you pushed the intruding thoughts away every time you saw him

• You were content with just being friends though

• And oddly content with not finding your soulmate if you were happy enough with the friendship and life you already had

• Which made Anton worry

• The simple solution would be to just tell you the truth

• Pros: you two are soulmates and live happily ever after

• Cons: the universe messed up and that turns out to be a big joke and it's his fault for messing things up

• Now, he knows that's elaborate, but still can't help but question why you've never asked him yet

• So here comes the help of Sohee, the "golden boy" of your trio, as you both like to say

• He always has the best advice and outlook for everyone around him, so what better thing to do than ask him about this?

• The only thing is is that he already can see that you two are meant for each other

• Neither of you had said a single thing about it, though. Not until Anton’s last thread of hope started to fray

• "So.. you've known for several years...”

• "Yes"

• “And you haven't said a single thing to them?"

• “Right"

• "Well why not?"

• "Because I don't know if they're my soulmate"

• “…”

• And Sohee just stares at him for a while before nodding his head and continued eating

• Because “how else am I supposed to help Anton if Anton won't believe first?”

• So, Sohee apologizes to the universe for interfering with the work of fate first before talking to you

• He hates seeing his friends in this position, especially if it's an issue regarding their entire life

•And he texts you randomly

• “You never talk about it, but I wanna know. Who do you have a crush on?"

• Getting the notification scares you because???

• Why would he suddenly ask you this?

• But you still reply,

• "We can't have crushes, remember?"

• In which he comes back with

• "We're only human. We have crushes, so who's yours?"

• Some time passes before you say anything, quickly becoming anxious

• You've never felt scared to talk about Anton before, so why now?

• "You can't tell Anton...”

• And you explain every bit and ounce of your feelings for him to Sohee, who is smiling so wide on the other end (as he screenshots every message and sends them to Anton in real time

• Who then proceeds to panic

• Even though it's confirmed that you definitely are his soulmate, he's scared that you'll be mad for not telling him sooner

• And also mad at the fact that Sohee told him after you asked him not to

• So the next time you see Anton, he looks almost queasy from how much he's holding in It worries you, so you just ask

• "Are you gonna be okay? You don't look well...”

• He stares back for a while, not really processing your question and almost tuning out the entire world to focus on what he had to tell you before it really made him sick

• He couldn't even hear himself when he told you, his mouth going on autopilot until he saw your reaction

• Not the reaction he was expecting though

• Seeing you smile so big and bright and then laughing at his change in expression from scared to confused still worried him, but in a different sense

• "God…..I've been waiting for you to tell me for so long!" You said, immediately going to hold both of his hands in yours

• And the shock that immediately ran through his body caused him to freeze before he could say anything to you

• The shock being that your reaction was positive after he already rehearsed your rejection

• "But…how did you already know?" he asks

• You laugh a little at how oblivious hes been all this time

• "I've always felt it. I just wanted to spare myself of embarrassment if it wasn't you and just boldly stated that it is. I should've known though...but you, on the other hand, have know this forever and still never said? Why?"

• He gets nervous again, thinking about how silly his reasoning was

• *I just didn't want it to make things awkward for us, you know?"

• You nod while smiling at him again

• "But fate makes it so that everything works in our favor. It was gonna happen sooner or later, and I guess later is now"

• Finally getting a smile out of Anton, he holds your hands tighter, swinging them a little, side to side, before asking his final question

• “I really do love you. Even before I knew we were soulmates, I liked you so much it was almost embarrassing..do you think that if fate didn't exist, we'd end up together still?"

• "I was already daydreaming about us being together before all of this happened, so of course” you tell him, making his expression brighter by the second

• "So now that it's official, we've gotta go tell Sohee thank you" he said, standing up and holding just one of you hands now to lead the way

• "..he sent you my confessions, didn't he?"

• "Let's not worry about that until another time"

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

The Dangers of Hope Ch. 5

Series Summary: When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.

Pairings/Characters in the series: Endverse!Dean x Reader, Emma (OFC), Castiel, Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Risa, Johnston (OMC), Patrick (OMC), Theresa (OFC), other survivors and soldiers.

Series Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Show level violence, some gore, angst, smut, fluff all the usual for a series of mine. ❤️ Endverse!Dean (that's a warning for his anger and callousness as well as his extreme hotness. 😁) Each chapter will have their own specific warnings.

Chapter Warnings: Nothing major.

Word Count: 5,402

A/N: So, I've had this idea for quite a while. Basically since I watched The Last of Us. I loved Pedro in the role of Joel, but I kept thinking how incredible Jensen would have been. Which then made me think of how amazing he was as Endverse!Dean which then led me to this idea. Lol! I've stolen the premise of Ellie's storyline from TLOU, but made her a grown up, a reader insert, and a love interest for Dean.

If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊

I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.

I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️

A/N 2: Sorry, this chapter is a bit longer than usual, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. 😘

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

The dividers below were created by @saradika

Over the next two weeks, Dean did whatever he could to avoid being around Y/N.  He was determined that the morning at the river was simply going to be a weird one off. It was some kind of reaction to Y/N’s unfamiliar presence. Her emotions and her rose-colored outlook on the world had contaminated him somehow. 

He didn’t know why, but there was something about her that always made him question his decisions, constantly rework his plans. She just brought something out in him, so he stayed the hell away from her as much as possible.

He knew she’d set up the school and begun teaching. But there again, she’d made him change his plans. The plan had been to use the sheds behind the cabin for storage; that was the whole reason for building them! 

But apparently Y/N had worked her magic with Brandy and before he knew it the sensible, practical woman had him convinced to let Y/N and the kids take up one of their very limited storage spaces, just to sit around doing algebra and reading poetry - or whatever she was teaching them. 

It was ridiculous. 

But even though he avoided her during the day, there was no turning off his brain at night, when he closed his eyes and visions of her soft curves and the memory of her silky skin beneath his fingers plagued his thoughts. He told himself to smarten up, that he had so many more important things to be thinking about. 

He decided he just needed sex; it had been too long. So one night he showed up in Risa’s tent after midnight and she opened her arms to him the way she always did. 

But as he kissed her and moved his hands over her body, her gentle sighs and soft moans weren’t doing what he needed them to, and he realized he was being an asshole trying to replace one woman with another. Risa was a good soldier and she’d been a soft place for him to land too many times to just use her as a distraction. 

So he got up and left, giving her a lame excuse, “I forgot I have to be up early tomorrow to…go over things with Johnston.” He tried not to notice Risa’s frown. He couldn't tell if she was mad or sad, and he didn't really want to stick around to find out. 

As the days moved on, he realized it was next to impossible to completely avoid Y/N, whether day or night. Because no matter how he tried to ignore her, he saw her influence everywhere. He could sense a shift in the air, he swore people were smiling more and every once in a while, he could hear kids laughing loudly.

That was a foreign sound nowadays, and it unnerved him. And smiling seemed foolish. What was there to smile about? Being happy just invited tragedy. He knew in the old days he would have been called a pessimist. But he was simply being a realist as he'd always been. He called things as they were, and he wasn't about to let a pretty smile and a bouncy attitude change that.

One evening, about a month after Y/N arrived at the camp, Dean was headed to the storage shed to take a thorough inventory before they left the next day on a raid - one of their last before the snows came in mid November. He knew they were gonna need more propane than what they had stored in order to run the generator over the winter. The generator ran the fridge and freezer where they kept their food stored. 

It could also power the electricity in the big cabin for a little while if needed. There had been nearly a week last winter that had been so piercingly cold that they’d all needed to jam themselves into the cabin and run the electric heat as much as possible. It had simply been too cold for the little camp stoves in the tents; the wood-burning stoves just couldn’t generate enough heat to combat the intense cold that seeped through the thick canvas walls. 

So their generator had saved them, and it ran on propane, which meant they needed more than enough to last through another possible cold snap.

Dean had deliberately waited to start the task until it was nearly sundown since the school would be empty by then and he could avoid running into the teacher that worked there. 

But as he approached the small building he could see a wavering light in the window - a lamp moving towards him. Before he could turn and leave (he wasn’t going to call it running away) Y/N stepped out into the semi-darkness and gasped as she saw him standing there.

She put the hand not holding the kerosene lamp to her chest. “Oh my lord!” She breathed out raggedly. “You scared me half to death.” But she was chuckling as she said it and walked closer to him.

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I uh…I thought you’d be gone.” He knew he sounded slightly accusatory. “Why are you still here? Haven’t the kids been gone for hours?”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah. I came back to put up the gift we got from Tom Richardson.” She waved him towards the building behind her. “You should come see the school.”

Dean shook his head. “No, I’ve got…I have to -”

She cut him off with wide, pleading eyes. “Please?” She added a bright, imploring smile and Dean shook his head. Why was he even bothering to say no to her at this point? He gestured for her to lead the way into the little building and he followed at a distance. 

They walked in and she set the lamp on the small table in the corner and turned it up full so that it completely lit up the tiny room. She held her arms out to the sides, showing off her little schoolroom with pride.

“What do you think?”

He shook his head. “It’s uh…pretty empty.” He said looking around. 

Y/N shrugged and seemed a little deflated. “It’s a work in progress.”

Dean grunted his acknowledgement and continued his sweep of the room. On the floor against the back, Northern, wall were a couple of piles of wool blankets, and right above them was a mural of multicolored leaves stuck to the wall. 

When she saw him looking at it and frowning, Y/N explained. “I got the kids to find a bunch of pretty, fallen leaves, and then we used some tree sap as glue to stick them up. I got to teach them a little bit about trees and ecosystems, and we also made something pretty to hang on the wall.”

He nodded at the blankets. “Is that where the kids sit?”

“Yeah.” She said with another shrug. “We’re a little packed in, but it keeps us warm. The blankets just take the chill out of the floor and make it a bit softer to sit on.”

Dean nodded absently and looked left, his eye catching on the only other object in the room. It was a paper map hanging on the western wall, held in place by two small nails. 

Dean frowned again. “Is that a map of America?”

Y/N nodded excitedly. “Yeah, that was the gift from Tom Richardson. It was so kind of him. His son, Jonah is a sweet little guy, but I guess he’s been pretty quiet over the last year or so. He lost his mom just before he and Tom got to Chitaqua?” She said, clearly using the words as a question to see if he knew who she was talking about.

Dean nodded, a vague recollection coming to his mind of a big burly guy and a scrawny little kid. He remembered thinking the guy would be a hard worker, and the kid probably wasn’t gonna make it. He’d looked pretty sick.

Y/N continued. “Well, I guess since he started school he’s been talking more in the evenings, even asking Tom questions about The Knights of the Round Table. I’ve been sharing some of the legends with them this week. So, Tom was grateful and as a thank you, he gave us this map that he’d kept tucked away in his backpack all this time. Said it made him feel peaceful to look at it and remember better times. But he thought we could use it more.”

She smiled wistfully and gazed at the slightly ratty map.

“Why?” Dean asked with a slight jolt in his gut. He waved at the map. “It’s not like this anymore.”

Y/N nodded and lowered her gaze to the ground. “Yeah, I know, but the general shape of the country is still the same, and I can use it as half geography, half history.”

When she looked back up at him, her face was set in lines of disappointment. She waved her hand to encompass the whole hundred and fifty square feet. “You don’t like it?” She asked with a weak chuckle.

Dean shrugged. “No it's, I mean, it’s fine. You know, work in progress, like you said.”

Y/N nodded and smiled, looking a little bolstered. “Yeah, slow but sure. And you know,” her smile turned shy, “I’ve really wanted to thank you for giving up the space for the school, I know this wasn’t what the shed was earmarked for.”

Dean cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, Brandy made sense. Can’t have the kids wandering around outside after the cold comes.”

Y/N frowned. “I’ve wanted to thank you, but every time I’ve looked for you, I seem to have just missed you.”

Dean scowled defensively. “Just busy.” 

Y/N nodded.

“Well look,” Dean said, backing away, “I gotta get to…stuff.” He shook his head. “I mean, we’re leaving on a raid tomorrow and I gotta prepare for it.”

“Oh, be careful.” Y/N said, biting her lip in concern.

It was far too hard for Dean to rip his eyes away from where her teeth sunk into the satiny sweep of her bottom lip. But he jerked his head up and then spun away as he answered her. “Always am.”

***

The raid was successful; in fact it was one of the most successful ones they’d ever had. They’d traveled all the way to St. Louis, hoping to find some gas stations there that hadn’t been picked clean. But they had no luck. Since going home empty-handed wasn’t an option, they went North to Springfield and hit the jackpot. 

They found an old Costco on the outskirts of the city that had barely been hit. They filled and loaded up enough propane tanks to see them through the winter and then some. 

They also loaded up as much food as they could, and even found some usable meds left in the pharmacy there. They grabbed clothes and kitchen things like plates and pots, utensils, also managing to find a few things that had become rare and quite precious, like eyeglasses and sunglasses. They also found spare tires and car parts, and a few simple pieces of practical furniture. They took as much as they could load into the back of two trucks and a Jeep. 

Dean packed up one more big box, setting it on top of the others; it was just something he thought might come in handy. He refused to think too long about why he’d gathered together the things in the box.

They made it back to camp less than two days after they left, a record for a raid. They usually took a week or more because they had to scavenge through a bunch of different cities, and fight off masses of Croats. But this time, they didn't see any Croats at all, and they'd scored an incredible haul quickly, which meant that, barring some kind of catastrophe, they wouldn't have to go out again until the snow melted. 

They pulled into the camp around noon and Dean spent a few hours helping to unload the trucks and organize where everything went. When the campers saw the piles of booty in the trucks, people actually started clapping. An air of joviality pervaded as they all worked together to put things away until the next day. At which point they'd begin accounting for it all, sharing what was needed immediately, and then safely storing away the rest. 

Y/N and her students left their little schoolroom to come help as well and the kid’s eyes were wide and excited, looking at everything that had been brought back as though it was Christmas Eve. 

When everything was unloaded, Dean grabbed the box he’d put aside and brought it to Y/N who’d returned to the school to drop off the two folding chairs she’d claimed for the classroom.

He knocked on the open door, grateful for the hard wood beneath his knuckles this time. Y/N turned to face him and her eyes were almost as bright and excited as the kids’.

“Hi!” She said enthusiastically. “Wow, you guys sure brought home the bacon on this raid!”

Dean shook his head. “No bacon. It was fairly rancid.”

Y/N chuckled lightly and scrunched up her nose. “Yeah, wise decision to leave that behind.”

Dean nodded and set the big box on the plywood floor with a heavy thump. “This is for you. For the school.” He amended.

Y/N looked a bit dumbfounded for a moment and her eyes got even rounder before she dropped to her knees and pulled open the flaps of the box. 

When she saw what was inside her gasp was deep and her hands flew to her mouth. She looked up at him in complete shock before reaching reverently into the box to take out one of the books that sat inside.

“Books.” She whispered, as she stared at the paperback in her hands. She reached into the box again and pulled out another book and then another and another until her arms were full of them.

She looked up at him, tears falling and her gaze rapturous. “Oh my god, Dean.”

Dean felt his face flush and he looked away, crossing his arms over his chest. “Just figured the classroom could use ‘em and they were just sitting there on the shelves. There’s a bunch of kids books underneath,” he said pointing inside the box. “And paper and pencils and some crayons, a few coloring books. There weren’t many of them so-”

He was interrupted as Y/N dropped the books back into the box and launched herself at him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed tight. He stood stock still for a minute before he patted her back awkwardly and dropped his arms back to his side.

She pulled back and brushed away her happy tears, sniffling loudly. “Sorry. I just…” She knelt down again and picked up another book, holding it tight to her chest. She shook her head. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed books. It’s been years since I’ve even seen one let alone had the chance to read one.”

She reached in for one of the children’s books and laughed. “Oh my gosh, the kids are gonna be ecstatic.”

Dean shrugged, thoroughly embarrassed by Y/N’s joy and gratitude. He cleared his throat before speaking. “There’s a limited supply of paper and pencils, and I have no idea how long it will be before we find more, if we ever do, so…”

He trailed off and Y/N put the books back into the box and folded the flaps closed again. “So, we’ll be sure to write very tiny, erase a lot, and wear the pencils down to little nubs.” She said as she stood and bent to heft the box up from the floor. Dean stepped forward to grab it from her as she staggered slightly beneath its weight.

“You’ll break your back.” Dean barked at her as he reached for the box. 

But she just shook her head and turned away with the box still in her arms. “N’ah I’m stronger than I look.” She said, huffing and puffing as she dropped it onto the table. 

Dean shook his head. Yeah, I bet you are. He thought.

After a moment Y/N turned and walked slowly back towards him. “So, I can’t exactly buy you dinner as a thank you. But if you bring your rations over to our tent, I can cook them all up for us.”

She smiled at him, friendly and sweet, but Dean was backing away. “No, that’s not necessary.”

“I know it isn’t, but it will make me feel good to do this one small favor for you in return for this amazingness.” She said with a wave towards the box.

Dean planned to say no, had it on the tip of his tongue but when he opened his mouth what came out was, “Okay.”

So barely an hour later he found himself sitting at her table with dinner laid out in front of him. It was a sufficiently celebratory meal of salted venison from an eight point buck the camp hunters had taken down in early summer, boiled potatoes, and a can of green beans that was older than Emma.

It was the best meal Dean had eaten in a long time.  

After the food was finished and the dishes were washed, Y/N made them a cup of coffee and he sat drinking it as she settled Emma into bed with a kiss. His stomach was full of decent food, the coffee smelled old but still strong, and the sound of Y/N’s soft voice as she tucked her daughter in, was incredibly soothing. He found himself relaxing into his chair in a way he hadn’t in a very long time. His muscles lost some of their rigidity and he breathed out a long sigh, as though he’d been holding his breath for too long.

After a few minutes Y/N came back to the table and sat down with her own soft exhale. She took a sip of her coffee and then looked at Dean over the rim of her tin cup. “You know, I don’t think you really understand what you’ve done here.”

Dean cocked his head and raised an eyebrow, questioning her. She smiled and set down her cup, shifting slightly in her chair.

“Since all of this started, we’ve been on the move, Emma and I. In the beginning, when Emma was still a baby, I’d come across different groups of people and we’d travel together for a while or we’d manage to hole up somewhere for the winter and wait out the cold together. But inevitably the groups always fell away; sometimes we’d just decide to go in separate directions, but sometimes animosity or greed would take over and violence would erupt. People would fight over who was in charge and they’d fight over resources.” Y/N shook her head. “It almost always ended up a disaster.”

She shrugged. “So after a while, I just lit out on my own with Emma. It was scary as hell, of course - no back up, no partners, all on my own with a four year old. But it also meant no one stealing my stuff, or throwing me to the wolves at the first sign of trouble.” 

She took another sip of coffee and Dean wondered at the shadows in her usually bright eyes. What stories in her past had created them?

Her voice was soft when she continued. “It’s been incredibly hard and there’s been,” her eyelashes fluttered and closed, “there's been a lot of bad.” 

She set down her cup and sat back in her chair, rubbing at her eyes with her fingers like she was scratching out the images behind her eyelids.

When she looked at him again, her eyes were soft and warm. “So, to come here, to see what you’ve accomplished in just a few years?” Her voice was full of wonder. “Dean, it’s like a miracle. I mean you’ve made it safe here, at least a hell of a lot safer than anywhere else out there - there are guards protecting us! People work together, contribute their skills and strengths for the benefit of the group as well as themselves.”

She shook her head. “I haven’t seen anything like it in a very long time. What you’ve created here is an oasis.”

Dean snorted at that. “Oasis?” He asked incredulously. Her praise and wonderment made him feel an itchy kind of awkwardness. He didn’t deserve it.

But Y/N was nodding solemnly. “Yes. It’s a safe haven in a world filled with evil. What would you call it?”

Dean took a gulp of coffee and then licked his lips, looking at her for a moment before speaking. “Y/N this is only an oasis in the sense that it’s a mirage in a desert; it’s an illusion. We’re managing to get by through lucky choices and good timing. We push through from day to day, but I’m telling you this whole place could fall apart in an instant. One long, bad, winter, or one coordinated attack from another camp or a pack of Croats, and we’re done.”

He paused to try and let that sink in before continuing. “And the survivors here work together because it’s beneficial to them. But if things get desperate again,” he looked at her pointedly, “don’t think for one second that they'll hesitate to throw you to the wolves like all the others.” He shrugged. “It’s human nature, survival of the fittest, and anyone who thinks otherwise is gonna get trampled.”

He said it as a warning, still determined to dislodge the Pollyanna ideal of good and virtuous humanity from her mind.

But Y/N just smiled and leaned across the table to squeeze his hand. “Guess we’ll see. But in the meantime, you should be proud. No matter what happens, you’ve done good.”

Dean swallowed down the rest of his coffee in one gulp and stood up, pulling his hand away from her warm touch. He was desperate to get away from the softness and understanding in her gaze. He thanked her for cooking dinner and left quickly, promising himself as he walked back to his tent that he wasn’t going to do that again.

But as with most things to do with Y/N that decision didn’t last long, and soon enough that one evening turned into a bit of a ritual. Every few days or so Dean would show up with some of his rations and Y/N would combine them with what they had, and they’d all eat together at their tiny table.

Every time he left her tent, he told himself he’d had his last meal there with Y/N and Emma. Yet within a few days, he’d be back again. He told himself it was just something to break the monotony of camp life, just something a little different from the ordinary.

But the truth was he was beginning to crave the evenings spent across from Y/N, listening to her rattle on about her students and their achievements, or else answering her seemingly endless questions about the camp and how it had come to be. He even enjoyed listening to her talk to Emma, telling her stories before she tucked her in for the night. 

Once the little girl was asleep, Dean usually hightailed it out of there, because without the kid as a buffer it became much harder to ignore Y/N’s inviting lips and tempting curves.

But one night, three weeks after returning home from the raid, Y/N followed him outside as he abruptly left the tent. 

“Dean.” She called after him. 

The sun had set almost an hour before and the night was dark and cold; Dean returned to her side and admonished her. “It’s freezing out here, go back inside.”

Y/N just rubbed her hands up and down her arms and shrugged. “I’m fine.”

He shook his head at her stubbornness, and then waited silently. When she didn’t say anything right away he spread his arms wide.

“What?” He asked impatiently. 

“I just…” Y/N stuttered for a moment. “I just wanted to say that I really like when you come for dinner.”

Dean clenched his jaw as she looked up at him with heat in her gaze, an invitation in her eyes, plain as day. He told himself to walk away but instead, he raised his hand to trail his fingers down her cheek. 

“You should go inside.” He warned her again, even as he lowered his head towards her. “S’cold.”

Y/N shook her head. “I’m very warm.” She smiled and licked her lips and it was his undoing.

He yanked her up against him and crushed her lips with his own. He plundered her mouth with his tongue, inhaling her sweet scent and hardening at the way she clutched the front of his jacket and whimpered softly. He moved his hands so that one clutched at her waist and the other one grabbed hold of the back of her head so he could keep her pressed to him tightly.

He didn't know how long he would have continued kissing her, or whether he might have taken things even further. But luckily there was a loud noise of something crashing somewhere in camp, followed by laughter. 

The sound was like a bucket of cold water being poured on him and Dean ripped himself away from Y/N's mouth. They were both breathing heavily, panting really.

“Fuck.” Dean swore roughly before he turned abruptly and left. He fully admitted to himself that this time, he was definitely running away.

***

Dean barely slept and woke up the next day berating himself for the night before. For fuck’s sake he’d been making out with Y/N with her kid just on the other side of a canvas wall - kissing her in the wide open, where any other camper might have walked by. He didn’t need things to be more complicated than they were already. 

As the morning wore on, he made up his mind to talk to Y/N that very afternoon. He'd just tell her straight out that what happened between them just couldn't happen again. It was only going to confuse things and make everything harder than it needed to be. 

He nodded; he could do this. He was practical and he didn't hem and haw or tiptoe around things. He'd just tell her straight out how things were going to be. 

He knew she'd be in the big cabin as the school day ended, so he walked over and stepped inside the door, hoping she'd be almost done for the day.

Ever since he brought her the books, she'd been reading to the kids at the end of every school day. Parents had started swinging by the school, ostensibly to meet their kids, but really, they wanted to watch their kids' faces and listen to their giggles as Y/N read the stories in funny voices and occasionally got the kids to join her in acting out silliness from the books. 

But the crowd of parents and kids had gotten a bit too big for the tiny schoolroom, so on the last day of every week, Y/N had taken to reading to the kids and parents together in the big cabin. The adults usually sat on the floor behind the kids, keeping their hands busy with mending clothes or knitting, or else they stood at a table and worked on something like repairing holes in tents or making snares for the hunters. The work allowed them to justify their enjoyment of the stories. 

As Dean walked inside now, Y/N was finishing up the storybook in her hand. He could see it was The Paper Bag Princess and Y/N was on the last page.

“‘Ronald’, said Elizabeth, ‘your clothes are really pretty and your hair is very neat.” Y/N read aloud in Elizabeth’s decisive voice. 

“You look like a real prince. But you,” Y/N paused for effect, “are a bum.’”

All the kids were giggling as she read the last line. 

“They didn't get married after all.”

The kids clapped and even the parents were chuckling at the way the paper bag princess had put the snooty prince in his place.

“I love that story!!” A little redheaded girl in the front gushed. 

“It's my mommy's favorite story.” Emma said loudly. “Right Mommy?”

Y/N nodded. “When I was your age for sure.”

Dean pushed away from the wall he was leaning on, trying to signal Y/N so she'd hurry up and finish. But the little girl in the front demanded her full attention as she bounced up to lean against Y/N's knees where she sat in the chair.

“Cause your mommy read it to you?”

Dean was seriously considering ordering everyone out. He wanted to get this over with.

But Y/N's next words stopped him dead in his tracks. 

She was shaking her head as she tucked the little girl's red hair behind her ear. “No, my mommy passed away a long time ago when I was just a baby. So she never really got to read me stories.”

Y/N kept talking, but Dean only heard a hot, pulsing, rushing sound in his ears. A million thoughts were slamming through his mind at once as he felt a cold shiver run through him.

He yelled over the sound of the people around him beginning to chatter and get ready to leave.

“How?”

Y/N looked up at his bellow, her face shocked. “What?”

Dean was aware of his surroundings only just enough to brusquely order everyone out of the cabin.

“Now!” He barked and the mood in the room shifted quickly as parents grabbed up their children and gave The Boss a wide berth as his eyes burned at Y/N like green fire.

Everyone disappeared and it was just Y/N, Dean and Emma left. 

Dean felt his heart hammering in his chest as he took a step back from where she stood. 

Y/N's face was completely confused and clearly perplexed. “Dean what-”

He cut her off. “How?” He bellowed again before swallowing and asking in a slightly quieter tone. “How did your mother die when you were a baby?”

Y/N shook her head. “Why? What are you-”

“Answer me.” Dean's voice wasn't loud, but his words were clipped and he could hear the steel behind his words, feel the cold seeping into his bones as the tumblers in his mind fell into place, opening the lock concealing the reason behind Y/N’s miraculous survival of the virus.

Y/N blinked rapidly for a moment before exhaling slowly. “It was a - a fire. Some kind of electrical short or something.”

“In your nursery.” Dean said softly.

Y/N shrugged, her face scrunched up in confusion. “I'm not sure. My dad didn't really like to talk about it.”

As he stood staring at the woman with the bloodshot eyes, a moment from so long ago, once again from that first time they'd faced the Croatoan virus, materialized in his memory.

Again his brother's face bloomed in his mind, and he heard his own voice speaking.

“I swear I'm gonna lose sleep over this one. I mean why here, why now?”

And Sam's bewildered reply. “And why was I immune?”

Well now he knew why his brother had been immune. Because Yellow Eyes had wanted him to be, to make him a better soldier, a better, more powerful psychic to lead his demon army. And of course, he’d needed to be sure Lucifer's true vessel was strong and able enough to withstand the demon germ warfare he planned to release upon the world as a way to kickstart the apocalypse.

Dean stared at Y/N, angry beyond belief. Angry at her and what she really was, angry at himself for taking so long to figure it out and for falling for her game, and unbelievably angry at the universe for proving once again that it was laughing at him. 

His voice was ice when he spoke. “What kind of psychic are you? What can you do?” He shook his head. “What have you done already?"

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

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Dean Fics Only:

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Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

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[caliburn-not-calculator]

I ramble about: VR-LA’s Character Arc

I feel like I’m just saying loads of the obvious with this but I still wanna say it cause it’s in my head and won’t leave.

Anyway, heads up for mention of: Suicidal Ideation and Tendencies

VR-LA’s story starting from a place of absolute aloneness and even suicidal ideation, but ending with so many families, friends, and homes and a promise made in the maze of life to keep on going… It has me feeling things

He begins with nothing but flimsy phantom feelings from his past and his strengthening relationship with his friends keeping him stable. And, as seen with the Zuggtmoy madness and the despondency well, without them he ends up right back in that spiral. Right back in that trap of wondering it it would better to have not woken up on the ship.

Later, his isolation through his wish and utter dedication finding his old crew puts a slight wedge that relationship. His drive to find his past nearly breaks his present, and he ends up having to reconstruct both his bonds with them (though minorly) and his old crew. It’s the thing that leads him to try and leave his past in the past, and focus on what he has now. He tells Dani that when he dies it’ll be on this ship, that he isn’t going anywhere. He picks this life over the old one. That connection to his family and home that has kept him going, now stronger… but not yet healthy, not yet healed. The stubborn refusal to leave his past comminuted to be put to rest through season 4 now he’s learned how unhealthy it was to dwell on it. Killing Endellion, proclaiming to his old crew that the old him is gone, being willing to give up the ship to Dani. Being willing to give up and leave behind the home he once pledged to die on. All of that showing how his outlook has progressed from the Then, to the Now, setting up the lead in to the Later he comes to look forward to in season 5.

But at this point, VR-LA’s pledge to die on the ship is still standing, until all of sudden that declaration is thrown into question by his promise to Maxim. An unexpected moment, maybe considered quietly in the back of his mind for awhile, but now coming to a head at the wake up call that is Maxim’s constant refutes to VR-LA risking his life. Maybe it wasn’t fully true at the time, maybe it was part desperate ploy to win him over and part the first realisation that the future he had always thought inevitable didn��t have to be. Whatever it was, that first promise set him on the path to looking not just back, not just around, but forward.

An episode later, VR-LA is lost in the not so metaphorical maze of life. He knows his past and how he feels about it, he knows his present and all the new bonds he’s formed in this second life. But the question of what comes next looms before him, despite his gripes with what happened before, this is the major decision he faces. And it isn’t the death on the ship he always thought would come, the death he once considered accepting while adrift, but rather… life. What he finds and chooses at the end of the maze is a long life, well lived. The exact opposite of everything he thought he had always been moving toward.

I was not expecting to find a story about coming to heal from suicidal ideation in my silly autism robit but oh boy… oh fucking hell is it there.

AND THEN, how he literally ends the series with a proclamation that no longer is he going to “die on this ship” or “wonder if it would be better to not wake up”, but that he’s taking dying of old age a challenge. How he refuses anything less than that. How despite his new dangerous position, despite stepping up and not back, he is not looking for anything less than that future he found at the end of the maze.

VR-LA starts too focused on the past, moves on to trying to focus on his present, then eventually the future. And if that progression wasn’t good enough, by the end he manages to have them all. His memories and old crew, the crew of the Per Aspera and a life of adventure, his increasingly pivotal role as magister and his aim to grow old.

Like, when I first heard the silly “Hello! I am VR-LA :D” and “Will you be our captain?” robot, I was not expecting a story about overcoming suicidal tendencies and growing to accept and combine all aspects of yourself. Like, fucking hell WHY IS HE LIKE THIS HSJDBDKDBDKFB

It’s such a well done arc for an improv show, and yeah there’s the little awkward unclear points but overall it’s so fulfilling and complete, while leaving further room to settle and heal. Right from season one he proclaims it’s the fight against entropy that makes life worth living, and the the whole show he fights that fight with himself. He goes from someone willing, and perhaps even on some level wanting, to die, to someone actively fighting for the opposite. He goes from empty of will to live and memory to, in his own words, “overflowing”.

Anyway, I love this silly robot, he makes me feel too many things, and I can’t wait to see what new stories come to pass next campaign.

[heartfullofleeches]

V seems to be a.. fan of cats.. and you’ve mentioned how he would react to a clingy reader; but how would he react to a bubbly dog hybrid one?

(feel free to ignore! c: love your works!)

To say Vince wasn't a dog person would be an understatement to how deep his dislike ran. For his eight birthday, his nanny loaded him and his sister into the family car to pick up a present for the girl after she had a fit while he was unwrapping his gifts. Yet another day ruined by her need to be the center of attention. Vince knew there was no hope in regaining what little joy he had as soon as they left the arcade, but nothing could prepare him for the decade long torment awaiting him at the paws of what his sister chose as her prize.

Shadow. The beast was a rottweiler a head taller than him standing up. V had always been a late bloomer, so it was easy for the dog to pin him whenever it decided he was in need of its affection which was more frequent than he would have liked. It seemed to like him more than its owner if not taking pleasure in his screams. A drooling, lumbering pile of fur he had no escape from exceplockedck in his room like most of his troubles. Living with Shadow until his parents finally let him move out thoroughly tarnished his outlook on dogs no matter the breed. He swore to himself that in a place of his own not one dog would ever make it past the front door.

"V, welcome back!"

But he was well known for changing his mind at the drop of a dime.

V drops his things and braces himself against the doorframe as you leap from the couch and into his arms, squeezing the air from his chest as you pounce putting all your weight behind it. He helps your legs around his waist and waddles over to the couch where he collapses on the cushions still cradling you to his chest. He kisses the ear posed in range near his lips and lifts you briefly to free your wagging tail from being pin down to his leg. He snuggles into your fur, inhaling your calming scent.

"Missed you..."

The tag attached your collar rattles with the bark of your laughter. "That's usually my line! You were only gone about ten minutes though.."

V's desire for a roommate were far from innocent or a need for cash. The various odd jobs he did online, and the money his parents poured into their adult children left him well off, but he needed something that money couldn't buy - in a realistic sense. With previous quests for companionship falling short the next best option to him was finding a roommate who'd he could get to fall for him one way or another. In his mind, romance was a guarantee being in such close proximity to another person. The perfect crime..til it you showed up.

Seeing a hybrid of the same animal he'd grown to hate wasn't how he planned for his weekend to go. You appeared with no warning and nothing in hand but first month's rent, a backpack, and a print out of his ad. Just like with Shadow and his food your sob story and puppy eyes made it hard for him to turn you away. He let you sleep on the couch with the notion that you would be out by morning. It took that exact amount of time for him to never want you to leave his side.

"Does that mean you didn't miss me too?"

The gasp that tears through you catches him off guard. You're offended he even asked something like that. "Of course I did! I just didn't want to tell you this time since you came back so soon.."

It takes all of V not to kiss you. That overbearing need for attention and affection transfered quite well into a hybrid of your class. V despised physical contact depending on the day, but he couldn't resist taking you in his arms whenever you came to him. The shedding was tolerable too since it meant you found comfort in his bed and your scent would be left behind when it was time for him to wind down.

"But what if I like you missing me? What if that's the only thing that wakes me up every morning and coming home whenever I have toleave?"

"That's a good question... Guess I'll just have to prove how much I miss you go." Your claws in his jacket, you unleash all your pent up energy in the wet kisses you leave along his neck, face and jaw. V humbly accepts your display sneaking some of his own. He was still on how he felt about others, but when it came to you he was proud to say he was a dog person.

[inbarfink]

Okay, so when it comes to “What Remains of Edith Finch” I’m generally among those who subscribe to the reading that there is nothing supernatural about the ‘family curse’ - that it is nothing more than an unhealthy coping mechanism that became a self-fulfilling prophecy through a tradition of neglect and recklessness also maybe some slew of undiagnosed hereditary mental illnesses. But one aspect of this interpretation that I’m not really on-board with it is the idea that this makes the ending of the game, like, a totally unambiguously ‘bad’ tragic ending.

Well, either way it’s always a pretty sad ending, y’know. Everyone is dead. I mean in the sense that, like, if the ‘curse’ is nothing but the stories of the Finch family making them think they’re cursed - then Edith writing her little book and passing on these stories to her son is just perpetuating the Curse and probably dooming the poor boy. They would’ve both probably been better off if Edith did let those dangerous stories die with her. Right?

Well, that’s not really how I see it. I don’t really think this is a narrative is about how Edie and her outlook on death is, like, 100% totally wrong and dangerous and Dawn Finch was 100% totally in the right about trying to escape the family stories - as much as it is about Edie and Dawn both being flawed women and neither really handled their grief perfectly. Since Edie’s attitude kinda dominated the family and Edith herself kinda used to side with her great-grandma over her mother, the story focuses more on her realizing that, y’know, Dawn’s perspective might have a point. But just cause Dawn might’ve had a point doesn’t mean she was always right either. I think the point is more that Edith has to understand both her great-grandma’s and her mother’s side so she can strike a healthier balance between both of their attitudes.

Like, the thing is that the ‘Curse’ is mostly just generational trauma (and if there is a real supernatural Curse than it is still a metaphor for generational trauma), and the thing with trauma is that wallowing in it and letting it define you like Edie did is really not healthy - but neither is repressing it and trying to run away from it like Dawn tried to do. Edie might’ve been wrong about many things, but she was right about this:

The ‘Curse’ won’t leave Dawn and Edith just cause they left the House, or just cause they stopped listening to Edie’s stories. Because the Curse and their Trauma are the same, so it will follow them in some form wherever they go. The big thing I keep thinking about is Edith’s comment after Sam’s story.

This isn’t about Sam’s death being especially important for figuring out the ‘mystery’ of the Finch Curse, or it being an especially fascinating or beautiful story or whatever. It’s because it was an especially traumatic event for Dawn, that undoubtedly effected her for the rest of her life. But due to her fear of the effects of Edie’s Stories, she never really opened up about it with her daughter in any way. Seeing the pictures of Dawn and Sam’s last trip together, Edith feels she now has a greater understanding of what made her mother tick - and wishes she could’ve known about it when she was still alive.

And that does go farther down the family tree. Sam was the first Finch to show a real dislike to telling the Stories like Edie like. Although admittedly he wasn’t quite the rebel Dawn was:

And pretty much everything about how he acted around his children, especially the real shitty stuff, was informed by the trauma of Calvin’s death. 

And, like, obviously Edie’s idea of handling trauma did no favors to him, (She made him share a room with his dead twin for eleven years) but I think also his attempts to almost totally avoid and repress his Issues when he became an adult only made things worse and not better.

Now, you might be wondering how this relates to Edith and her son Christopher. Well, the first thing to remember is that Edith didn’t know for sure she was going to die when she started that journey. She wasn’t just planning on leaving that little book to her son in case she dies - she wanted to learn the stories too, and have a better understanding of the stories she knew already. Because these stories inform the trauma she grew around, and she wanted to understand it better before she became a mother. Dawn knew quite a lot about the danger of growing up in a household that wallows in and romanticizes trauma - and did her best to avoid repeating this mistake with Edith. Edith knew quite a lot about the danger of growing up in a household that repressed and runs away from trauma - and she doesn’t want to repeat it with her child as well.

And as for writing it down for Christopher in case she’s not around to share the stories with him. Well, the first thing to note is that I think that even if Christopher never had Edith’s book - he was already bound by the ‘Curse’ from the start. Like, yeah, he doesn’t have the experience of growing up with a traumatized parent raised by another traumatized parent raised by another traumatized parent - but growing up knowing his biomom died at childbirth can be a pretty traumatizing experience on it’s own. We don’t know much of his family situation outside of that, but the fact that there seem to be no one around to escort the Literal Child as he takes a ferry to go lay flowers at his birth mother’s grave doesn’t really bode well.

So I think, first things first, from that angle, Edith’s journal could be importantly therapeutic to him as well. You know, have some sort of connection to his mother and her side of the family that he’s otherwise can’t really have? Like, this book isn’t just some darn list of dead Finches. There’s a lot in here about Edith herself and her own thoughts and her life and family and that’s maybe connection Christopher would want with her? Something that might make him process his grief for her a bit better? Something to make him feel more connected with that side of his family?

Now, let’s also consider the fact the Finch Curse is at least somewhat public knowledge: the Odin Finch newsreel mentions it, Barbara’s death was very well-publicized at the time - and the ‘Tales of Terror’ comic calls it “another ghastly tale inspired by America's most unfortunate family” - implying that they expected their readership to be at least kinda familiar with the idea of the Finches being ‘cursed’. I think that’s pretty likely that, even without the journal, if Christopher dug even a little bit into who his birth mother was he would’ve found at least a mention of a rumor of a ‘Family Curse’ .

Or, hell, seeing how the Finches (and especially Edie) seem to have been local celebrities around Orcas Island - if Christopher lives anywhere near that area, really all it will take is him saying something like “hey, I’m Christopher Finch!” or “my mother’s name was Edith Finch” and then someone would say “oh yeah, like the famous Orcas Island Finches? That cursed family that keeps dying?” and seeing how he has no living relatives on his mother’s side - he would’ve probably believed it, or at least allowed the possibility to wriggle into his heart - and then… well, the Curse will just live on regardless of Edith. 

Note that Christopher is already wearing a cast before he even read the book (and is, again, a child taking a ferry to visit his mother’s grave all alone) - it seems like something of the ol’ Finch recklessness has already made it to him, whatever it’s in his genes somehow or just the rumors of the curse getting to him. But it is not entirely on Edith’s journal.

And like, one of the things I think made the Curse such a problematic mindset is the way it prevented the Finches from ever learning from their mistakes. You know, if every death is a result of a malevolent supernatural force haunting the family - then there’s no need for introspection of how what they could do better in the future. Challenging this mindset was probably one of the best things about Dawn’s mindset. But learning from past mistakes is equally impossible when you convince yourself it’s all the fault of a supernatural curse as it is when you straight-up have no context for what happened before. If nothing else, the stories in this journal can serve as a useful lesson about not clinging to the past, or not letting your grief define you, or how you shouldn’t try and make a perfect 360 degree spin on swingset or how you SHOULDN’T LEAVE A BABY ALONE IN A BATHTUB JESUS CHRIST

Because it’s not like this journal is just, like, a totally uncritical reiteration of Edie Finch’s stories for the next generation or something. I think the game makes it pretty clear that although Edith Sr. and Edith Jr. are meant to mirror each other on some level, their attitudes when it comes to the stories of the family are pretty different. 

Edie was characterized as someone who cared more for what makes for a good story over the truth, as someone prone to inventing or exaggerating tales, as someone who reveled in the romanticism of being Doomed, and memorialized the death of her loved ones more than their life. Like, one of the things that really crosses a line for me about the Edie Finch Method of Grief is just how much the circumstances of the death are prioritized over the life the person had before it. 

It’s not always so blatant cause the Finches tend to die in ways that poetically tie with their personality and hobbies (Molly loved animals and fantasy and she spent her last moments in a hallucination of transforming into various animals, Sam loved hunting and photography and he died taking a picture while hunting, Walter loved trains and ended up being run over by one) but… there’s certain areas where it’s actually kinda unclear if the connection is actually there or if Edie is kinda forcing it for the sake of a good story. 

Like, Barbara was a horror movie child star and her death reads like a cheesy horror story - but that’s because Edie chose a cheesy horror retelling to represent it. Maybe if we knew the real story of how she died, it wouldn’t be quite so on-the-nose. Did Gus actually love flying kites to the point it defines his entire personality or was that just something he did on the day he died? Either way, he’s defined by that one activity forever now. 

And Gregory… like I’m sure he enjoyed bath-time, but the fact he’s memorialized almost exclusively with bath toys and soap is kinda fucked-up. I’m sure he had other toys he loved to play with outside the tub as well, but all of his memorials are focused entirely on the thing that killed him.

Edith’s attitude, as can be seen through the game, is different. Edith can appreciate the beauty of Edie’s stories but also cares quite a bit about truth and accuracy. The difference is most obvious when it comes to their books. Both Ediths wrote a story about coming back to their old childhood home and discovering the family secrets - only Edie’s story, “The History of the Finches”, seems to be complete fiction and based on what she would’ve wanted to be true, while Edith did actually go to her old childhood home and tried to record it as accurately as possible. And while she’s limited in telling the death stories that Edie kept records of, she also notes the points when they seem ridiculous or inaccurate to her. 

She documents the tall-tale about how Sven was killed by a dragon, but also clarifies that he was killed while trying to construct a dragon-shaped sled. Rather than just perpetuating Edie’s joke for the sake of the fantasy. 

Plus, she doesn’t just focus on the Finches’ deaths, she does try and tell Christopher about their lives as well. It’s not always easy, since with the older generations Edith often doesn’t have much to go on outside of Edith’s memorialization, but she does try to get a General Vibe out of them from their room and other mementos they left behind (like Sam’s improvised darkroom in the wall-passegeways) rather than just the death story. And when it comes to the people Edith actually remembered well herself - Lewis, Dawn and Edie - she’s constantly telling little anecdotes and details of their life together. 

In a way, I kinda divide “What Remains of Edith Finch” into three main parts. The first third of the game, with Edie’s kids, is the one that centers on the mystery of whatever the ‘curse’ is real or not - and is also a character study of Edie herself via the lense of the people that she lost. The second part is basically that but for Dawn, it’s about Edith learning to understand her mother’s character via the loss of Sam, Gregory, Gus, Sanjay and Milton. The Lewis segment is a transition between that third and the last third - which is about Edith Finch herself. Even if Edith can paint a full picture of both life and death for all of her dead relatives, she can at least give Christopher a good insight to his mother, grandmother and great-great grandmother. 

And notably, the two people Edith ‘has’ to memorialize herself without Edie’s postmorten involvement, Edie herself and Dawn, get a very different treatment from every other Finch. They don’t get a ‘proper’ Death Story documenting or describing their last moments. The closest thing is Edith’s flashback of the day they moved out of the House, which is more of a Death Flashback for the Finch Family as a concept than to Edie and Dawn as individuals. We do know that Dawn died of some sort of illness, but it’s delivered to us at the end of a longer passage about the life they had together. And we really don’t know anything but how Edie died at the end. 

If Edith doesn’t know how Edie died, she’s shown no interest in trying to figure it out - if she does already know, she doesn’t think her spesific cause of death is important to write down for her son. The important thing is for him to learn what kind of person Edie was in life, and Edith has more than enough understanding of her great-grandma to memorialize her without defining her entirely through some sort of of romanticized tragic death. 

And, like the most important thing to remember is that Edith questions the concept of the Curse in her journal. Like, the game and the journal are one and the same. So, like all of these passages that are important for the ‘there’s no supernatural curse’ interpetation:

Christopher is reading these lines as well. If we are capable of playing “What Remains of Edith Finch” and understanding the ‘Curse’ as being a self-fulfilling prophecy - then Christopher is also capable of reading his mother’s journal and coming to the same conclusion. I mean, it’s not a certain thing. There’s plenty of players who read the Curse as a real supernatural force and that’s also a valid interpetation of the game’s text. And there’s like, actual grown-ass adults who played this game and decided it’s actually about a serial-killer granny. So maybe it’s asking a bit too much from a little grieving eight-years-old to immediately understand this as a story of unhealthy trauma coping mechanisms through the generations. 

But my point isn’t that there is 100% no possibillity of Christopher dooming himself like every other Finch before him, or that Edith made the objectively correct decision in writing this journal and basically saved her son from the ‘Curse’. It’s just that he’s not doomed... it can still go either way. Christopher might have read this and started to believe in the Curse and perpatured the cycle onwards, or he might have come to the same conclusion Edith did - that believing in these stories made them real - and decided to try and do better than those who came before him. Or maybe he came to one conclusion but will later change his mind. As long as he’s alive, there’s is at least the possbility that things will turn out better. 

“What Remains of Edith Finch” ends with the shot of the two things that ‘remained’ of the two Edith Finches of the game. The House is What Remained of Edith ‘Edie’ Finch Sr. A glorious and sad monument of mourning, now forever frozen in time as a memorium for the tragedy of the Finch Family. And Christopher is What Remained of Edith Finch Jr. An actual living human being with his whole life ahead of him, who still has the potential to doom or save himself. 

Good luck.

[vvaspoppie]

Doc Ock x Symbiote!Reader

→ Author’s Note: Requested this from another writer (that’s also really cool), and decided to also write my own version. No specified version of Ock, pre and post evil versions are mentioned.

→⚠ Warnings ⚠: unethical science,

→ Fandom: Unspecified

→ Genre: Headcanons

→  Pronouns: They/Them

The Backstory:

You were a scientist who worked on studying the organic matter samples Colonel Jameson had brought to earth. Unfortunately, one of those samples was capable of a lot more movement than originally believed.

Long story short: Some of it bonded with you, you quit soon after due to not wanting anyone to get suspicious then started working at Oscorp.

Pre Tentacles:

He, and almost every other co-worker, is a little bit curious about the fact that you quit your last job to work at Oscorp but drops the subject after the mention of an NDA (which wasn’t true)

Notices you talking to yourself a lot, but doesn’t question it much. Most of the scientists he works with have an odd habit or two.

You totally slip up and call yourself 'we' in a conversation, which he does bring up

"There's a perfectly reasonable explanation if you give me enough time to think of a lie."

On to the actual dating

You guys keep it on the down low and by that I mean absolutely nobody knows. He likes privacy

His love language is talking about his experiments and asking you about yours (and physical touch but that takes a while)

The symbiote makes the relationship difficult, especially because he doesn't know about it

You don’t ever tell him about the symbiote, the symbiote speaks for itself (literally, and to a disastrous extent)

He takes a while to process it, but once he does he shares his work on his tentacles

He tries not to think of the moral implications of the whole situation because he loves you and knows you wouldn't do harm intentionally (he is wrong)

Post Tentacles:

Ok so in most versions Otto goes missing for a brief time after the accident™

So what happens in this brief time?

Chaos. Pure chaos and fear

Not only are you distraught and angry but your symbiote also formed an emotional attachment

Absolutely no one gets a break. Criminals, civilians, co workers, Norman even Spider-Man

The streets are filled with nothing but fear and it stays like that until you get your Otto back

At which point:

Yay, evil power-couple time!

I mean what did you expect, you’re the host to a symbiote that eats people to survive and likes to commit crimes; there is almost nothing he could do that you either 1) haven’t already done or 2) had to literally fight yourself not to do

He changed after the accident, and it reminds you of when you first bonded with your symbiote. You try and be patient, knowing that he's still the same person, just with a different attitude and outlook on life.

With some communication skills being flexed, the relationship works out well

He also gains a new thing to be mad at the world about (Tabloids keep calling him a monsterfucker and so does your Symbiote)

It's that whole Roger and Jessica Rabbit thing except no one knows who's Roger or Jessica at any given moment.

You keep working at Oscorp to keep suspicions low and provide insider information

Yes, the suit makes you look very good - now do you want to be part of the Insidious Sinister Six or not?

You don’t want to fight Spider-Man head-on most of the time (much to the Symbiote's chagrin) so you agree to work with them, but not be on the team.

Anyway you end up kicking ass and now half the team is scared of you (Much to the Symbiote’s delight) (remember that episode in the 90s show were Venom Spider-Man almost kills Rhino and Shocker? Yeah you do something like that)

His ego may be nearing the size of the sun, but even then he’s slightly scared of what would happen if your symbiote gained full control. (Your symbiote likes him so his nerves are good, but still makes sure nothing happens that affects your memories)

Speaking of which he wants to do some - totally not evil because he loves you- experiments revolving around the Symbiote

Overall, the relationship is wholesome, if not unconventional.

[igotanidea]

Not like them : Nikolai Lantsov x reader

idea/requests by @sublimepenguinpeach-blog : Reader is friends with Alina, met with Nikolai, who is smitten with her, but she reject al his advances since he remind her too much of the men who sexually harassed her in the past. But when reader starts flirting with Tolya, the price just could not hold it anymore.

I changed some things so they would fit the story better, but hope you'll like it :)

***

„You know he’s harmless, right? Just a bit too cocky and self-confident, but apart from that….” Alina started, taking a seat next to her friend on Volkvolny

“I know.” Y/N cut her off before the sun summoner could even finish the sentence “but those are men like him who …..” her voice broke a little.

“I’m sorry.” Alina looked down. “I never meant to remind you of the past.”

“Not your fault.” The other girl sighed deeply and looked at the ocean.

Back in the days, before she met Alina, she had her fair share of traumatic events. As if it wasn’t hard enough to be born into an esteemed Grisha family and yet, also being the only one who held no powers. Zero. Zip. Nada. Unless you count her social awkwardness and a bit of quirkiness.

And that…. well, it led to some complications, to say the least. Although no one ever said that straight  to her face, she was a black sheep of the family and it was showing in every gesture, every word and every action taken towards her. She was treated condescendingly, humiliatingly and blamed for so many things that were simply beyond her control ….

One day she just couldn’t take it anymore and snapped. Made a mess. Screamed at the top of her lungs. The quiet girl who was taking all the tease became a snarky, snappy, sarcastic and quick to respond woman.

Oh, if that girl ever held any power she would be an Inferni, no doubt about it. She just seemed to have an answer for everything, was not afraid and that blunt, big mouth caused her some trouble. Let’s just say that her father did not like the attitude. Despite her being ordinary, from that day she was practically forced to participate in a straight-regime training wish Grisha just to punish and humiliate her. And her inadequacy was quickly noticed by some of the guys there.

And used.

One night after particularly extreme practice, when she was walking home alone, tired, exhausted and barely moving her legs three of them laid out for her, grabbed her from behind and dragged her into the nearest empty house on the roadside.

“Get the fuck off me!!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, squirming against the tight grip, but she was too small and too weak to fight against her oppressors. “I will not…..”

“Will you just shut up?” one of the boys said, tightening the grip on her. “You were asking for it from the moment you showed up amongst us. You don’t belong here. You’re not a Grisha.”

“Well you don’t deserve that position either!” she spat and that got her a slap on the face. Oh, that boy was surely not holding back his strength. “Fuck you!” she screamed

“I think opposite.” He smirked  taking a step forward “wonder if you’ll act the same when we are done with you. What do you think, gentlemen? Shall we draw lots who would be the first to play with her?”

Shit. She had to do something. Anything. But how could she possibly fight against three grown-up men? She was turning her head around frantically, using the fact that at this point her capturers started quarreling about the order of ……

And their absent-mindedness gave her a bit of leverage when she quickly wriggled herself free and started running as fast as she could. She might have been smaller but it also made her faster and due to some miracle she managed to escape. That was a relief, but her frantically beating heart, disheveled hair, torn coat and dirt on her knees was not something her parents accepted. They were disgusted by her outlook. And of course, she could never tell them what really (almost) happened. They would never believe her. Instead, she took her punishment, throwing some sarcastic comments, clenched her jaw and tried to move forward.

But the trauma stayed.

And those men got away with everything, and even worse – from that fateful evening started to harass her even more. Verbally. Throwing dirty jokes about her body, grabbing her while passing and making efforts to get her alone again, claiming that this was what she wanted.

And she snapped again. Causing a scandal, since after all she was a “no one” who dared to attack Grisha.

Since there was no one who could help her, she just escaped her hometown and were on the run since then.

And that was how she met Alina and Mal, who were probably the first people to accept her fully, never judge her and become her friends for good and for bad. They knew each other for a couple years now and there was nothing that these three wouldn’t do for each other.

Hunting for the seawhip amplifier included. And dealing with one, stupidly annoying price Nikolai Lanstov.

Y/N did not like him from the very beginning. Of course, he was annoyingly handsome with that infuriating smile and contagious laugh, with those shiny eyes that seemed to sparkle even more when he was at sea and his unruly, thick, curly hair.

But his attitude?

Just like Alina said. Cocky. Arrogant. Conceited. Sarcastic and so full of himself. This reminded her of those men from her past. And it was not a good memory. Therefore for the last weeks she has been avoiding him like a plague, trying to shield herself from the trip down memory lane. And both Mal and Alina supported her in this, while knowing where it came from. And they were never going to tell her secret.

The rest of the crew however, did not understand a thing. Especially Tamar and Tolya. They were a bit surprised that someone could have so much irony and  power to make their friend Nikolai speechless. She was probably the only girl who could begin to compare with Nikolai in the field of hiding true feelings and using irony as a defense, a shield. And that boy just loved to spite her.

And speaking of the devil…..

“Are you ladies enjoying the view?” upon hearing Sturmhond voice Y/N just rolled her eyes.

“Be nice.” Alina hissed turning around towards the prince.

“nice. sure. It’s not like you were the one to punch him the second we found out his true identity.” Y/N spat back

“That was only because you are slower than me…”

“It’s not like we are on vacation.” Y/N spit before Alina managed to stop her “In case you forgot, tsarevich.”

“Not with you to remind me. You should relax a bit, sunshine.” Nikolai smirked with that characteristic face expression that made Y/N clench her fists. He was just so freaking annoying. “And since you two are clearly gossiping here, may I ask who is the subject of those gossips?”

“What makes you think it was a person?” Y/N crossed arms over her chest, eying Nikolai with the most stern expression she could produce.

“Call it instincts. So?”

“No one you would know.”

“Really? Wanna bet I can find out who’s the lucky guy? I got resources to do that.”

“Saints! Only you can start bragging out of nowhere.” The hell Y/N was going to listen to Alina’s advice to be nice.

“That’s just a casual reminder that nothing can hide from me. And definitely not that blush on you face Y/N.”

“I am not…..”  

“Oh, you are. Is it because of me Y/N?”

“Pffff.” She scoffed and blew a raspberry. The fact was she was blushing, but the person who caused it was yet to approach them.

Tolya.

Even since she met him on the deck of Volkvolny he sparked something in her. Despite all her bad experiences and deeply hidden disgust and fright of men.

He was just different.

Y/n never knew a man who would recite poetry and be so … openly caring and romantic and courting and protective and ….

To say the least, she was a bit smitten by him.

Or maybe she was just deflecting.

But it was hard to hide that Tolya’s appearance immediately put a smile on her face.

“Are you ladies enjoying the trip?” he absentmindedly asked the exact same question as Nikolai

“I always enjoyed being in the open.” Y/N looked at him with glistening, bright eyes. Her answer, so different than before, got Nikolai pop his eyes and open his mouth wide. “Cat got your tongue, Nikolai?” she laughed lightly and it was his turn to blush. Once again, she got him speechless. And he hated that.

“Yes.” Tolya took a deep breath and closed his eyes a bit “That remind me of…..”

“Oh, no, please, do not recite the poetry again” Tamar chimed in, before her brother could say a word

“Just because you, my dear sister, cannot fully appreciate the beauty of the art, doesn’t mean that pretty lady Y/N cannot as well.”

“Pretty?” Y/N smirked. “isn’t that a little condescending?”

“It never meant to be.” The Shu man exhaled and his gaze focused on her “did you take it like that?”

“No. I don’t think I did. But still, I bet you tell that to every girl you meet.” She dared

“I haven’t met much girl lately. At least not since you, Y/N.”

“Oh….”

“is it just me or are those two openly flirting with each other?” Alina whispered to Tamar, who were barely holding back a chuckle

“Looks like it.” Tamar gasped “Wonder who’s gonna make the bigger fool of oneself.”

“Nikolai, I think. Just look at his face. Not so reserved anymore.”

“Wait. You don’t seriously think that he might…..”

“I know him longer than you, Alina. I think he does. Just wait and see….”

“I did however, have many adventures and many stories I can entertain you with, Y/N. If you’d like to listen, of course.”

“Of course!” she practically exclaimed “It would be such a relief to listen to someone who can talk about interesting  things.”

“Y/N, you mind if I have a quick word with you beforehand?” Nikolai tried his best to act casual, but it was no use.

“Told ya.” Tamar raised an eyebrow at Alina

“Um, yes, I actually do mind” Y/N tilted her head. She just loved to dare Nikolai and push him past his boundaries.

“Too bad. “ he shrugged “I am the captain. You’re on my ship. So you will listen.”

“I am not…..”

“Now.” Nikolai commanded and that harsh attitude took everyone, Y/N included, by surprise. Sturmhond was not exactly known to lose his cool and temper.

***

“What?” Y/N spat the second he closed the door to the cabin. She was not even going to hide how furious she was at him “what on saints was so important that you just couldn’t wait a while?!”

“You.”

“Me?” she frowned “what …..?”

“I don’t understand you.” he sighed “I just don’t. And believe me, I’m trying. ”

“What the…..?” she tried again, but he didn’t let her finish, taking a step forward, making her retrieve until her back hit his desk. The intense look in his eyes made her panic slightly. Saints. She was trapped. Again. With no way to hide. Suddenly her mind took her back to the past, to that barn, reminding her of her oppressors, of the past, of what happened, of how she was alone and hurting and forced to move past her trauma. “No….” her body trembled and she completely lost contact with reality, too immersed in the past “No…. please…. not again.” tears started falling down her cheeks and she sobbed desperately.

“Y/N?” Nikolai voice became alerted in a second, his gaze softening while looking at her, so broken and vulnerable. He had no idea what he did and why she acted like that. “Y/N, what happened? Hey, please, I …..” he hesitated, not sure whether to hug her or not.

“I hate you!” she cried out

“Why?” he sounded broken

“you are  just like them!”

“Like who?” this was all just too confusing for him

“Like those guys who tried to …. to…..hurt me” she shook again, hiding her face in hands and trembling again.

“Oh, love….” Now it became painfully clear and Nik could not hold back his instincts anymore, extending his arms and wrapping them around her, pulling her close, letting her cry into his chest, rubbing soothing circles on her back “I’m so sorry.” He whispered “But it’s ok. You’re safe now. No one will hurt you. Not when I’m around. I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“How….how can you be like that?” she pulled back slightly, her broken gaze landing on him “How can you be so much like them with your attitude and confidence and smugness and yet, so different? I … I don’t understand it….. I ……”

“Y/N.” he smiled at her, cupping her cheek and rubbing her tears away “Look me in the eyes. Please.” she unwillingly raised her gaze and their orbs met “is that why you have been avoiding me and acting so rough and cruel? Tell me.” Nikolai said softly, not to startle her

“Yes.” She admitted, her voice shaking “that and …..”

“And what?”

“I can’t say it…..”

“Then let me.” he smiled “I fell for you. the second I saw you with your fiery eyes and sparkling eyes. The moment you slapped me down with that bad girl attitude of yours. Saints, Y/N, if I knew about…..”

“You cannot tell anyone about it!” she panicked again, struggling against his hold, but he only held her closer.

“Saints, girl! I’m telling you I love you and you keep projecting. Listen to me. Just listen.” Once again, he cupped her cheek and forced her distracted eyesight on him, the other hand resting on the small of her back. “I love you.” he simply said and somehow she knew he was telling the truth.

“You are not supposed to…..” she tried to object.

“Oh, saints!” Nikolai hissed, now completely drained of patience. He was done talking. Instead he just leaned forward and captured her lips in his. Oh, he wanted to satiate his hunger of having her, but at the same time, founding about her past made him slow down a bit. So instead of devouring her fully, he settled on moving his mouth on her slowly, softly, pouring all his feelings for her into that kiss. Trying to tell her, without using words, that whatever she may have thought about him, he cared. That he wasn’t like them. That he would never hurt her. He would protect her. He wanted her all to himself. And the sight of her flirting with Tolya turned him jealous and possessive. Hoping she would feel all that, conveyed by a kiss.

And the second he touched her, he was gone. The feel of her pressed against him, the fact that he finally, finally cold have her so close, not fighting against him, not spiting and biting and bittering was just too much for the poor boy. Prince, yes, but still, a boy in love, afraid of having his heart broken and scared of rejection, no matter how indifferent he may act.

But the way her hands immediately found a way up his arms and locked on his neck, how she moved slightly towards him, hugging and kissing him back with the same fire as he did, told him that maybe, maybe¸ those feelings were not one-sided. Saints, he could not get enough of the feeling of her lips and skin, the softness of her hair tickling his face, wishing he could just hold her like that forever, but eventually they both had to pull back for air. And when they did, he opened eyes, focusing on her beautiful face. She kept her eyes closed, breathing heavily, trying to contain everything she felt at the moment and processing it.

“Y/N….” he whispered, brushing his lips over her forehead, awaiting any words from her with his heart beating rapidly, almost out of his chest.

“I…. I think I love you too.”  She gasped, almost inaudibly, but he heard those words. The most beautiful words he could ever imagine.

“Of course you do. How could you not?” he laughed, but it was different than before. Not conceited or sarcastic, much rather laced with love, care and so much relief that she reciprocated.

“Stop ruining the moment!” she hit his arm, but smiled lightly and he couldn’t help but peck her lips again.

“do you think they know?” he asked, obviously referring to the rest of the crew

 “Who cares about them?”

“For once, I can agree with you” he pulled her closer again, the second kiss being more heated and passionate and she did not oppose to being showered in his attention and affection, not holding his desire back.

[shadedsecrets]

The Color Language of Phantomarine

At just a cursory glance at this webcomic, it is very obvious that there are strong colors and that they will be tied to themes of the story. And the impulse to discuss and dissect them is.... far too great.

So! Let's start with something general, yes?

Saturation

There are two types of color schemes in the webcomic so far. Schemes with brighter colors and additional accents, and more muted colors with much more limited value differences. Practically speaking, more saturated colors and visual interest helps to draw the eye to what is important; like black thick lines around animated characters to distinguish them from the background. But.... we have a group of characters who has changed from a background scheme to a main character scheme. Such as....

...Our Favorite Princess.

Three different color schemes for three different Phaedras. The first muted yellows and browns, almost boring against the intense lighting of the Candlelight Sea and its foreshadowing hues. The second an intense yellow and terracotta red that hold up against the maroons and deep reds of the Red Tide. The third, blues and white like the very sea she was looking down at but saturated and darkened with indigo and purple unlike any of the other sea ghosts we have seen before.

The transition from background color scheme to VIP color scheme coincide with the very critical moment of the Princess meeting Cheth, demonstrating that her death is a critical moment plot-wise. Her transition to a completely different but still VIP scheme is when she realizes exactly what has happened... and we see that it changes her outlook down to its core, all the warm colors replaced with cool tones.

So, a characters' color scheme tells us both how important they are and can clue us in to their mental states and affiliations. Nothing new. Let's see those groups!

Cheth

As the Red Tide King, it isn't surprising that his color scheme is dominated by a bright red, mixing into warmer purples with highly contrasting white and black. This color scheme overtakes the muted blues of the sea ghost, as well as marking them with his tattoos. White is the secondary color closely associated with Cheth in-story, representing bones featured both in skeletons and his original divine body the Bonefish. This sort of color pallet usually infers more sinister intentions, with red commonly being associated with aggression, but I believe in this case it implies passion. Not necessarily romantic passion, mind, but a deep level of involvement and care.

The Plume Church

Black and bright turquoise and blue with touches of white and green, Cheline and the institution worshiping her are perfect foils to Cheth in color scheme; the cool colors of the Goddess of Life oppose the warm tones of the God of Death while still being unique against The Candlelight Sea. I imagine the black represents the ashes left in the wake of her fire and the greens and blue new life growing from it, though the predominantly black robes are not the usual choice for a Life Diety. The very liberal use of black also paints a more sinister color scheme, with it's traditional use to imply 'evil' in villains. As of writing this, I do actually think that is the intention.

The Mantaluna Crew

Being Seaghosts, the group's scheme is focused around a cool blue, but with more saturation and variation than other seaghosts to represent how they still have some life in them yet. Their cooler colors also allows them to contrast starkly with Cheth, but the purple gives it just a bit more warmth than the Plume Church, showing that while the crew may follow their Church's teachings.... they are fundamentally different on some level than those who have tied themselves closer to the Church.

Pavel, Vanna, and the Lodestars

Characterized by yellow with accents of white, red, and black, the Lodestars stand out. Being the third primary color, they easily stand apart from both Cheth and The Plume Church, showing they are not tied to either. Yellow appears to be the 'neutral' side in this diefic-level conflict, with Best Boy Pavel trying to be a mediator and Phaedra from Chapter 1 treating Cheth with more empathy than in the current chapters when her color scheme was strikingly similar. They do not have a side: they simply want what they think is best and try to stand as a beacon against the dark.

The Fata Morgana

Monochromatic with only lighting and their pale pink eyes for color, these enigmas stand apart as blank voids against the rich vibrancy of the rest of the Candlelight sea. The dominant white with bone-like designs implies a closer relation with Cheth than Cheline, though the exact nature is still up for debate.

Seaghosts

Another monochromatic and muted color scheme, the seaghosts of the Candlelight sea are a pale blue with some white to outline and to fill the eyes. A traditional scheme for spirits, hostile or otherwise, and it blends nicely with their home in the ocean, truly making them feel a part of it. Their cooler color scheme also allows the Red Tide to stand out beside them.

I have a few special mentions that are not fully flung schemes of their own, yet, but that I feel need mentioning.

Silas, though we have yet to see him in different lighting, has the Plume Church's signature blues and greens catching in his hair, with the rest of his pallet being a background tone with little detail. Almost like a certain bird's words have wormed right into the head of 'some nobody' and he all too eagerly listens for the boons she promises.

Daphnie and Euphamina also share a muted color scheme, tending towards the golds with purple to show their high status. Though this is their funeral dress, Daphnie having the black on top covering her own warm and regal colors while her mother instead covers the black with yellow and dons spectacles of a familiar red seem to hint at how the Plume Church interacts with them. Daphine is being covered and almost smothered, though her pure intentions still peek through; Euphamina cannot get away from the influences, but has found ways to assert her will.

Speaking of the funeral, we have a mystery bean with their very own VIP color scheme with cool, deep blues that we have yet to see used elsewhere.

Finally, we have Amos Ellery. We also do not know much of his color scheme sans funeral, but I believe his color scheme hits at his own motivations, similar to Silas. Whereas Silas's colors were seemingly very average for persons in Saperport, save the little highlighting of his hair, Amos is all black, white, and grey. His course is chosen not because of promises, nor because he agrees with the Church... they are driven by the Church being the only thing 'correct' to follow.

I hope you have enjoyed my ramblings, the pretty colors, and any snippets of a story you saw. Do please go read and give the author all the support!

[bg3-npc]

Asexual Awareness Week and BG3

Below the cut is 1,100+ words of interpreting Wyll Ravengard as demisexual. As an asexual person, I relate to many of Wyll's desires and experiences. That relation has lead me to this interpretation of him as a character. Interpretation is the key word here. This is simply another way view this character and gain insight. It's obviously extremely biased, which is why I put the word count first. So if your interested in analysis that is probably more projection than interpretation, I bring you this.

Wyll is portrayed as an almost incurable romantic. He constantly references stories, tales, fables, and myths when discussing his romantic desires. Romance heavily influences his sexual desires as well. It is practically inherent to his sexual attraction. While this can be viewed as idealism, I want to propose an alternative outlook. One where he hasn’t conflated romance and sexuality, but rather one where romance is vital to his sexuality.

Wyll talks little of his sexual habits outside of when romance is being discussed. These quotes are about dancing, but they happen while you’re romancing him.

“Don't worry! It's not really about the dance, it's about who's we're dancing with.”

“I had years of lessons but in truth it's all about your partner.”

Like when you’re romancing most companions, many things said have multiple meanings or implications. He’s telling you that while he does enjoy sex, it’s who you’re doing it with that makes it truly pleasurable. I think Wyll desires the intimacy that comes from sex more than the act itself. He’s drawn to the connection it brings rather than the pleasure.

At one point he describes his sexual history as “tight-laced” when he’s talking with Shadowheart.  He says, “I was never one to sew my wild oats.” Apparently Wyll hasn’t had to practice and exercise much sexual restraint in his life. It’s easy to control one’s sexual desires when you don’t really feel them to begin with.

While he can understand people’s various sexual habits, I don’t think he can relate. He doesn’t see the appeal to casual sex. Sex doesn’t feel satisfying to him without connection. He has impulses, and sometimes he wants to act on them, but they don’t seem worth it. He doesn’t derive enough pleasure from the act alone to pursue it. Romantic relationships already provide sex, and he values love above all else. Why would he want anything else?

“Eh-heh, well, give it some time! Develop a bond, and…maybe I'll show you a move or two.”

“Hm, think of love as a strong ale, or a warm fire. Is the clang of steel on steel not made more satisfying by the pleasures that come after?”

Doesn’t sex feel decidedly better when you’re having it with someone you care for? How satisfactory can it be without attachment? How truly enjoyable is it without a bond?

“I value affection, over fun. A lasting memory over a passing fancy.” 

“But I’ve always been a bit old-fashioned on these matters. I find more pleasure in a courtly dance, than a loveless fling.”

Isn’t it more fulfilling to love someone than lust for them? Do you not feel more fulfilled from loving someone than sleeping with them? Is sex even worth having without love?

“Gods I want you, but I can't take your body without taking your heart.”

Can Wyll even give you his body without giving you his heart? They seem to go hand in hand for him. Love is essential to his sexual enjoyment, he doesn’t seem to experience sexual desire without it. Love might be the only way he can desire it. Here is an interaction between him and Astarion.

Astarion: "You didn’t kiss anyone until you were fifteen?! Gods. What a tragic, sheltered life."

Wyll: "Sheltered? Not at all! I was exposed to all manner of riot and revelry. Hells, my father even urged me on once or twice."

His romantic tendencies don’t come from inexperience or prudishness. Wyll isn’t oblivious or naive when it comes to sex. He’s been exposed and even encouraged to have it. While he might call it “proper”, Wyll is aware his way of courting isn’t for everyone. Your sexual habits might not align with his personal wants, but he won’t respect you any less for yours. Wyll does not believe your sex life effects your worth. If anything, he feels his wants are regressive.

“But I still keep faith in the old tales of love. The ‘once upon a times’ and the ‘happily ever-afters’.”

“I'd, like to do this the proper way. The way of the old romances sung by the bards.”

“But I’ve always been a bit old-fashioned on these matters.”

He constantly uses the word “old” to describe his courting methods. He’s acknowledges these desires aren’t modern, and by referencing fairytales he’s aware they might even be fictious. He calls his sexual habits “tight-laced”, his romantic intentions as “old-fashioned”. They’re not exactly said negatively, but more with the acknowledgment that his wants come across as restrictive. When the habits of today hold no appeal to you, you feel stuck in the past. What are you supposed to do when fiction seems to be the only place where romance is done how you’d like?

If you have sex with Mizora, these are some of his responses.

“You shared your body with the fiend who holds my soul.”

“We danced! We made a connection…and you severed it for a single bite of the Hells?”

This next quote is how he responds if you say, ‘Can you blame me? It’s not like you’ve been putting out.’

“Is that what matters to you? Sex without union? Heat without heart? Did you not take joy in the dance?”

Now obviously the biggest issue is you slept with the being that holds his soul. However, he says these things because he thought you felt the same way about sex as he does. He thought sex was an act as precious to you as it was to him. He thought you also prioritized love over physicality. He thought you enjoyed the way things were going, clearly he was. Had he known you didn’t feel the same, he probably never would’ve pursued you.

Wyll doesn’t do casual, he doesn’t do “let’s see where this goes”. He seems like the type to pursue every romance with the intention of marriage. No, he won’t propose on the first date. He won’t even necessarily think either of you are compatible. However, that’s the whole point of courting! It’s to test the potential of forever. He likes agreements, he likes pacts. He wants certainty, reliability.

Yes, he probably hasn't had much firsthand experience with relationships. Yes, all these things can be seen as restraint. Yes, they can be seen as repression. They can also be seen as someone who knows himself and genuinely wants “happily ever after”. Someone who’s aware of what he’s asking and wants you to desire it as well. Maybe love is the only way he can connect to his sexual desires. Maybe love is important to him because it’s the only way he can truly enjoy sex. Love might be the only thing that lets him experience sex like everyone else. Maybe love is the only thing that let's him feel sex like it’s described in fantasy. Maybe he’s lost in that fantasy, or maybe he’s just demisexual.

[fictionadventurer]

I went into Ruth expecting a dreary read. How could a Victorian "fallen woman" story be anything other than dark and depressing? So I was shocked right from the beginning to find a sweet, gentle, romantic story. The dressmaker's apprentice who sits in the coldest, darkest part of the workroom because that's where there's a panel painted with flowers that remind her of her country home? How could I not adopt her as a favorite character? Ruth's innocent, romantic outlook on life gave us some beautiful descriptions of the scenery of both city and countryside, and my imagination went on overdrive to create very vivid images of the story. Even the love story, which we know is going to go very wrong, starts out sweet, with a kind, charming love interest who only shows flashes of just how wrong his character is going to go.

Even after Ruth's fall, the story is so gentle, putting Ruth among kind people who are willing to risk and sacrifice a lot to help her. And then the story gets almost too gentle--after some initial struggles with depression, Ruth resolves to bear her troubles patiently and work toward virtue, and her sweet, too-innocent character gets flattened out into someone who's just Good. Life just goes on, with things generally going well, and every potential turn toward drama results in someone deciding to be reasonable, which can make the story drag.

But, in a story like this, the lack of drama becomes the plot twist! It is refreshing to see characters who don't always jump to the worst conclusion or take the worst action, who pause and consider the whole story and act like decent human beings.

And in the places when the drama does kick in, it's good drama. Painful drama. It's also (especially in the last section of the story) melodrama. There were sections of the book where I was rolling my eyes at the cookie-cutter Victorian path the story was taking--but then there'd be one line or one moment that would just stab me in the chest because of how beautifully specific it was to this story. Just enough to elevate it from something bland to something unique and fascinating.

I often had the thought that this book could be about a third of its length without losing anything--yet it should also be just as long as it was. If the story cut all its repetitive musings about Ruth's regret, and used that space to develop the side characters and and show the plot instead of telling us about it, it would be a much deeper story. I found myself wishing Gaskell had reworked this one later in her career--the way that North and South was a more skillful reworking of the issues explored in Mary Barton. In a way, she sort of did in Wives and Daughters, with the story of Molly the quiet innocent getting tangled up in the intrigues surrounding her headstrong, flirtatious stepsister Cynthia serving as a more layered, personality-flipped version of the story where headstrong, sheltered Jemima gets tangled in the story of quiet, sweet Ruth and her past romantic intrigues. (The doctor at the end of the story also feels like a proto-Mr. Gibson).

Yet I'm still fascinated by the themes specific to this story. Contrary to expectation, this "fallen woman" story isn't about sex, or gender, or how unfairly women are treated (though it does touch on that in the end). It's about sin. It's not questioning why Ruth's behavior is considered a sin or looking to dismantle the society saying that it's a sin. It comes from the Christian perspective of saying that sin is real and harms people--so how are we going to deal with that?

The story shows lots of people struggling with temptation, failing, and dealing with the consequences (or harming others with the consequences). Sin is always a case of either not caring enough to do the more difficult, good thing, or a case of "the ends justify the means", where people rationalize their bad behavior as something necessary in this specific case. It always leads to harm, but some people--and some sins--suffer greater consequences in the eyes of the world, whether or not they deserve it. I wish the story had developed and resolved this theme better in places, but the raw material there is fascinating food for thought.

This book is Gaskell at her preachiest, but also Gaskell at her kindest. It explores deep, difficult issues in a very loving way. As a story, there are ways it could be better, but I'm very glad I read it. Perhaps I'm making a point to be kinder to it because I know it's the type of story that today's readers tend to judge harshly. But amid my issues with the story, there are some lovely images, some great messages, and some wonderful characters that going to be living in my heart for a long time.

[bubbipond]

Por Being a Static Character in DFF

DFF Gives a great look on what happens when you’re backed up against a wall. Each of the boys have different paths but they all have different perspectives on what they want and how they will get it. Note: this is not me diminishing them being lil 💩 heads!

Static Character: is a type of character who remains largely the same throughout the course of the storyline. Their environment may change, but they retain the same personality and outlook as they had at the beginning of the story.

The friend group are in retrospect a bunch of boys who all have differing lives but also expectations of who they will be. Por, for example, is a great character to use to compare class systems between he and the other members of the group.

Por

Por is a character who does not really change from the three years that past. Maybe he is a bit remorseful but definitely not enough to care to fix things. Non is "gone" and that leaves everything pretty finished off for him. When you look at the line up we see in flashbacks that the more obvious bully is Por. He treats Non like crap, pushes him around, talks bad about him, steals from him, and even lies on him. But when you look at him versus the other members, he's just a basic school bully who comes from a rich family with high expectations.

He is the easiest character to kill off because your immediate thought is, "well this dude is the worst" but is he? Outside of him taking the script which, as we see, is the least of Non's problems, couldn't Non have survived that abuse in the long run? He is fed up with their crap but he isn't completely fed up just about a script being taken. It's everything all at once. Killing Por gives the series the feeling of revenge and unidealistic redemption. You can see why someone would want him dead which is why he had to go first.

Him living would be quite useless in the grand scheme of things. If he had lived up to this point what exactly would his character be able to confess that the general public doesn't know? Everyone knows that script was not his and that he outwardly bullied Non the most. That wouldn't make for a great reveal at the end. His death is purely used to scare the other members and progress the story further. His death meant the drugs can really induce the fear living in each one of the other members of the group. He does not change much in the three years that follow Non's disappearance because he is made to be the character you focus on the most. You immediately hate him (whether or not you agree he deserves death) but he isn't exactly an antagonist. There really isn't one bad guy in this story. Everyone plays direct or indirect roles in Non's demise.

He also can be seen as a foil to Non. Where he has money, name recognition, and everything he "should" want in the world, he is miserable. He doesn't get affection from his parents and when he does it all comes from a lie. Then you have Non who is poor, relatively friendless, and an outsider. They make the perfect bully and victim in any type of media. But this show is not about a bully and his one victim. It's about what can happen when you break a person down so far they have nothing to lose. So, for that reason, Por can't change. He can't be remorseful (and I do not count about to be paled to death and whining as remorse) or filled with guilt because that is besides the point.

a/n: Anyway tell me what you all think! Is there another archetype you think he can fall under? Let me know below!

[david-talks-sw]

Where do you sorta stand in terms of "Adhering to Lucas's" vision but also like "Well Lucas isn't making it so Star Wars is open to interpretation" Like don't get me wrong I don't like Karen Travesis's take on Star Wars for a whole host of reason and I think if anyone ever did a story and said "Well the Empire is right" then you are completely doing Star Wars wrong. But if someone legit wanted to do a story having a critical eye on the Jedi Order or IDK the Republic or even coming at Star Wars in a way that George Lucas wouldn't cover it cuz they are ideologically different, IDK, how far should that go?

I think the main thing to keep in mind is that it stays consistent with the spirit of what George Lucas was trying to say, if not the letter.

You can try alternative narratives, focus on certain characters, do it in different genres, but at the end of the day the message needs to stay the same.

And if you can't do that, at least try to be fair about your criticism of that message.

Different narrative, same conclusion

You can explore and certainly argue that the Empire brought about order and peace, and that it is better than the chaos and war present during the Republic.

You can argue that maybe, if instead of a Sith Lord who rules by fear, the Emperor was a benevolent dictator who lead by example, then the Empire wouldn't be as bad.

Legends stories have done this before.

You can even argue that the Rebels are terrorists and that the attack on the Death Star was the equivalent of 9-11 for the Imperial citizens, like this guy does.

But at the end of the day, that's a fallacy.

The previously-shown Empire storyline makes it clear that Moff Trachta is ambitious and greedy, as are his fellow conspirators. They're hypocrites who tell themselves "it's for the greater good" but really it's just so they can backstab each other to have the top job.

And the war the Empire's peace replaces was one orchestrated by the Emperor himself, so the entire regime is based on a lie, because really the only thing the Empire's system runs on is greed and fear, as shown in Andor.

Finally, while some of the Rebels' methods are hard and dark in nature... it's a war. And the narrative makes it clear that at the end of the day, the enemy they're fighting are space nazis. And 90% of the stormtroopers we're shown range from bullies to extremists. That one Imp pilot saying "millions died on the Death Star" also mocked Cara Dune for the genocide of her people, seconds prior.

The smaller narrative may take some deviations, it may question some aspects, but the larger one is consistent.

The moral of the story remains the same: the Empire is evil.

Different tone & characters, same message

When George Lucas made the six films, he had a very clear idea in mind, in terms of genre and style: imitating the Saturday matinee specials (think Flash Gordon), blend them with long standing psychological motifs derived from mythology, add dash of Buddhist philosophy: you get Star Wars, a movie for kids.

But I would fully expect a horror movie about a stormtrooper being hunted by an ice spider to go "fuck this 'we're all connected, we're all symbioms' bullshit. Die you creepy bastard!"

Same goes for Andor.

It's not rated PG-18, but it's still very dark. This isn't a movie for kids, it's a movie for teens and older. It opens with the eponymous character shooting someone in the face.

In Andor (and Rogue One) we see a side of the Rebellion we hadn't seen before. A darker one. But the genre of those productions demands a darker outlook on these concepts.

Cassian lives in a world where everything is nuances of gray.

He's the perfect kind of character to tell this story.

As is Dedra Meero. She is written as an underdog in the first half of the show. You're rooting for her. But then the series reminds you that: "hey, she's as much a nazi as the rest of them". She's willing to torture people to keep her job or get a promotion. The narrative frames her as ultimately evil.

Because at the end of the day the message is the same. The Empire is evil and it takes regular people to beat the elite 1%. Greed vs compassion, fear vs hope.

Now suppose there was a series opening on a "Gray Jedi" character, juggling between the Dark and Light Side with little to no effort or repercussion, sabering someone in the face.

That fucks with the message. Because it's okay for Cassian to do it, because Cassian doesn't need to deal with space magic, he lives in an un-mystical, cold and harsh part of the galaxy where you're either evil or less bad, rarely good.

But the 6 films make it clear that for Force sensitives, things are binary. They have to be or bad shit happens.

Gray morality works in Star Wars if we're talking about non-Force sensitives. In the case of a Force user, that's a darksider waiting to happen.

Criticizing the narrative via unreliable narrators

You mentioned Karen Traviss. For all my criticism re: her stance on the Jedi philosophy and their relation with the clones, I think her definition of Boba Fett is the best one yet (probably because she actually likes that character).

As a result of this personality, an eventual Boba Fett film would have to be Jedi-critical, because if you ask him, the Jedi took his father away from him. And you can argue using logical points all you want, his pain is emotional, not rational. Him being right or wrong is irrelevant, his pain is real.

Same goes with the recent Tales of the Jedi.

Dooku's an unreliable narrator, he is a character notorious for lying to himself and to others, he's poisonous and deceitful.

Of course three short films shown through his point of view would cast him in a noble "free thinking" light and the Jedi as infuriatingly obtuse.

The problem comes in when the author steps in and sides with the unreliable character with a subjective opinion and says that character is objectively right.

Okay, so now we have a situation where you've deviated from the established narrative.

You're having someone say the Jedi are asleep at the wheel and Dooku is the only one ahead of the curb when the movies and TCW show us the Jedi being just as aware and frustrated as Dooku is.

You're having someone say the Jedi can do more than what they're already doing, when Lucas' story shows us that there's really not much more that can be done, and Lucas himself confirms as much.

Which brings me to my final point.

Being fair with the criticism.

That's what it comes down to for me.

You can criticize the Jedi Order (I do so right here). But just be fair about it. And be informed.

For example, you can question whether the Jedi's rule of non-attachment is good or not.

But first you gotta know what attachment means, in the context of Star Wars. It does not mean "emotional attachments", aka "relationships". And it's not about repression.

So if you go into it thinking either of those things then your criticism isn't really 1) informed 2) done in good faith.

Because in Star Wars, the term "attachment" is used in the Buddhist sense. It's not about depriving yourself of bonds, it's about being able to let go and move on from who/what you love, when it's time.

Other example: you can argue the Jedi "accepted" the use of a clone army bred for combat because "we don't see it in the movies"... but you'd be disingenuous.

Because Attack of the Clones takes place over a bunch of days. You're not gonna be shown every second of those days. That'd be like arguing that "we never see Mace Windu eat in athemovie, so Mace is unable to eat".

AOTC is a movie about how Anakin fell in love with Padmé and lost his mother, and how Palpatine rose to power by engineering a war, a storyline shown through his and Obi-Wan's POV. The film isn't gonna stop and touch on a point that isn't directly relevant to those two storylines.

In TCW, you see the Jedi, some Senators and some civilians are the only people to treat the clones like, y'know, people. To argue the above, you'd have to deliberately ignore the 12 Jedi we're shown caring for their troops and just focus on Pong Krell.

Also, I think we've criticized the Jedi Order enough. Don't you think?

Different artists, mediums and tales have done it so much that the very clear, very obvious message of the Prequels has been twisted into something else.

If you look up any George Lucas interview between 1999 and 2021, he'll say it's about Anakin and the Senate's greed, it's about how a good kid becomes a bad man and how a democracy becomes a dictatorship. The Prequels weren't about the Jedi.

Instead of challenging the notion that the Jedi are good, which has been done baselessly for over a decade, I think it would now be fair to explore whether the Prequel Jedi were all that bad.

Oh. We're not trying to be fair? My bad then. Let's keep misinterpreting the source material because we like it more that way then say it was how it was originally intended to be.