#tires me out and also makes me sad for the long and important legacy of fantasy authors and creators doing their best to

[essskel]

i’m so sorry but if you’re in the ‘fantasy media is escapism I don’t want to think about any REAL world problems‘ crowd then why are you posting about the witcher. there are few fantasy sagas that are quite so explicit and intentional as the Witcher when mirroring its characters, world, and conflict around real people, politics, and everyday struggles. also that’s why it’s GOOD

[elinoracia]

⁑ They see you cry for the first time// Hogwarts legacy characters reactions x reader ⁑

~ Hogwarts Legacy headcanons ~

Warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, use of Y/N, mention of death and blood, swearing (censored), Leander jumpscare. Pairings: Sebastian x reader, Ominis x reader, Garreth x reader, Amit x reader, Poppy x reader, Natty x reader, Imelda x reader, Leander x reader.

Feel free to request anything!

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Context: Even after Professor Fig's death, even under great pressure and no matter the situation, you never let your friends saw you crack. Not even a single tear. You were trying really hard to hide your pain and sadness. But it had to come out one day... After fighting against some poachers with your companion, they almost killed him/her. After you saved him/her, you finally broke down. You thought you lost him/her too. You couldn't control your tears. (Pre-relationship)

THEIR REACTION :

Sebastian:

He gets up and dusts himself off without noticing how devasted you were at first.

"It seems like I'm the one who's in your debt now. I owe you- Y/N? Are you crying?"

He almost runs to you the moment he notices.

"What is wrong? Are you hurt? Are you bleeding? Tell me!"

He is extremely worried. He doesn't know why you're crying. When you explain to him you were really afraid of losing him like you lost so many people in your life, he got really quiet for a moment.

"You'll never lose me. We're a team, the best team even. If we stick together and protect eachother, nothing could ever happen to one of us. Besides, I am an excellent duellist!... Look at me Y/N..."

He lifts your chin up to make you meet his gaze. You could see how concerned he was. He wipes away some of your tears with his fingers.

"I'll be the one protecting you next time." You could feel he wasn't only talking about duels or battles...

He is not really good with words so he will go out of his way to try to cheer you up for the rest of the day. He will pick little flowers for you and bring you sweets.

"I'm not great with words but I surely can listen! Please come to me if you want to talk..or if you need a big bear hug! I'm also good with those."

Would hug you very tightly for as long as you need.

Ominis:

He will notice almost immediately when you start crying. He felt your breath pattern change and he heard you slightly sniffle.

"Y/N, may I ask what's troubling you? It's very unlike you to be this upset. I'm worried. Are you hurt perhaps?"

You then explain how scared you were. You feel like you almost lost him too.

He stays silent. He goes to reach for your hand and holds it.

He usually never lets anyone holds his hand because he doesn't feel like he is in need of any guidance and doesn't think it is ever necessary. But he is making an exception to comfort you.

"I appologize for making you worry that much about my safety. But I am still here...thanks to you."

You both make it back to Howarts and he refuses to let go of your hand.

"As you may already know, I am a great listener. I am always available if you feel the need to talk about anything."

"Your safety is also truly important to me. I just want to make sure you do not feel like what happened to you or anyone is your fault."

He really wants to make sure you're feeling better before letting your hand go.

He doesn't care if people can see him holding your hand. All that matters at this moment is you.

"Take your time Y/N. I'll stay for as long as you need me to."

Garreth:

He is very oblivious about the situation. You turn your head to not face him so he couldn't see your tears. But you feel your shoulders shake.

When he notices how your demeanor changed, he just wonders if you were tired or maybe hurt.

"Y/N? Are you alright? I have some Wiggenweld potions if you need any. I even brew them myself."

You try to explain to him how you felt. You couldn't contain your tears. Those poachers almost killed him in front of your eyes... You see his eyes widen.

"Y/N...Please don't cry. I'm fine, look! Please... I hate when I can't see your pretty smile."

He will almost instantly take you in his arms and give you a hug. He will also gently carress your head as he tries to make you smile or laugh.

"Come on Y/N, you usually always laugh at that joke! Smile for your best bud...please."

He will not leave you alone until you feel better.

"Trust me, I think you might need some of that famous Gryffindor courage, chivalry, and determination to make you feel better! You're in luck, I have all of the above!"

He will not leave you for the rest of the day. And if anyone tries to talk to you, he will tell them you need to rest. He wouldn't want you to feel too overwhelmed.

"There it is! There is your pretty smile. Do you feel a bit better now?"

Amit:

After the battle against the poachers, his first instinct will be to check on you, even he was the one who almost died. He'll quickly notice you feel upset.

"Y/N what is wrong? Please don't cry...I'm here for you."

You explained how unbearable the thought of almost losing him too was. You explained how much it breaks you.

"I-I'm sorry...I didn't know how much that impacted you. I should have known. But I'm here for you now. Don't be ashamed to cry in front of me. I'm here..."

As you're crying, he gently rubs your back and hands you his handkerchief. He stays next to you until you finish crying. Then he will talk to you for a while.

"I hope you know you don't have to hide your emotions from me anymore. I still think you're incredibly strong. You're so wonderful Y/N, truly."

He'll almost force you to go get some rest for the rest of the day.

"Please, let me bring you back to your dorms. You need to rest. I'll warn your teachers about your absence, they'll understand. I'll give you the notes I took during class, I insist on that."

He'll walk you back to your dorms like the gentleman he is. He'll make sure you don't have to worry about anything else for the rest of the day.

He will bring some food to you so you don't forget to eat. It's not just an excuse to come to see you and check on you, not at all really

He will try to be more careful about what he does. He doesn't want to worry you.

Poppy:

She almost cries first. The situation really shook her. But when she notices you crying, she focuses all her attention on you.

"Y/N! Please tell me you're not hurt! I'm here, I'm okay, you're okay. Take a deep breath."

You try explaining to her through your heavy sobs how afraid you were to lose her too.

"Don't be silly, I'll always be right next to you, no matter how annoying it can be. They can't possibly get rid of me that easily when you're with me Y/N. That's what makes you such an amazing person... You're always so selfless."

She takes you in her arms. Nobody can possibly make her let go of you.

"I'm so sorry you went through all of that... but you will never lose me."

She makes you take deep breaths and do breathing exercises until you calm down a little.

"Do you feel better? Do you need me to bring you something? Water? Food? Anything? Let me go get that for you!"

You could ask her for anything and she'll RUN to get them for you.

"Don't worry, it's okay to cry. Sometimes I cry too! It doesn't make you weak or anything of the sort! Your tears mean you feel deeply and that's a good thing!"

She'll make sure that you're not alone, not a single second, for the rest of the day. She has to make sure you feel supported.

Natty:

She is very attentive to what is happening around her. So it doesn't take her long to notice your muffled sobs you were trying to hide.

"Y/N, what's wrong? I'm here with you, you can tell me about it."

She tries to stay very calm. She wouldn't want to stress you out more than you already are.

As you explain to her how you felt about losing her too and the fear of her being killed, you can notice how concerned she looks. She sadly knows that feeling all too well.

"I want to support you in any way you need. You are not alone. I...I know how you feel."

She'll make you sit next to her. She will let you cry it out while she hold your hand and softly rubs it with her thumb.

"This is really hard for you, I understand. I will help you work it out. I'll never leave you Y/N. You'll never lose me, I hope you know that."

She'll hand you tissues as she listens to you attentively.

"Is there anything I can do to help? I would do anything to help you feel better."

She is ready to do anything you want. It really hurts her to see you go through what she went through.

Following this incident, you can be sure she will regularly check on you.

Imelda:

She is panting as she tries to get up. She is just glad she didn't die. It was a close-call. When she turns to look at you, she is surprised to see you so upset.

"Y/N? Why are you crying? We won! You beat them all! It could be so much worse, I almost died."

You explain how the though of losing her the way you lost so many people scares you. Your tears are flowing on your cheeks.

"I'm not...that big of a deal. If I knew you were going to cry over me, I would have been more careful... Please...Y/N..."

She slowly pats your back, not really knowing what to do or what to say.

"Hey Y/N, it's okay, I'm still here. And even if one day I die, I'm sure you'll figure out something crazy like usual and resurrect me or something like that. You're that powerful, I'm sure of it. But let's not think about it just yet!"

She usually would NEVER hug anyone but she'll hug you if you ask her. She will complain but she'll still do it for you.

"Hugh! So needy! Just don't hold me too tight, I can't escape death twice in a row. There there, I'm here."

Deep down she enjoys being the one you're worried about. She would never admit it though.

"Don't tell anyone we hugged or I'll never hug you again."

Leander:

He only thinks about himself at first. He almost died and couldn't believe he was still here.

"Holy sh*t you saved me! Y/N... it was crazy. I-... Are you crying?"

You tell him how afraid you were about losing him too. You couldn't bear the thought of him dying.

"Oh...I- hum..."

He doesn't have a single clue how to comfort you. He is very ankward and clumsy with his words. He means well though.

He's the kind of person to not think before he talks.

"Y/N...look at me. I...hum...your tears are beautiful...S-Sorry I just blurt out random things when I'm nervous. But I'm here..."

He'll ankwardly hug you and pat your head.

"It's alright Y/N...Do you want my scarf? You're always begging me to give it to you so you can wear it. Here, take it."

He gives you his scarf you puts it around your neck. It feels strangely comforting.

"You can wipe your tears with it if you want. It's yours now. Red suits you much better anyway."

You burry your face in his chest and hug him tighter.

"I hope it's not just an excuse because you don't need to do that if you really needed a hug from me that bad. I'll hug you everyday if you insist."

In a weird way, his teasing makes you feel a bit better.

[echo-hiraeth]

Chapter 2: Survivor’s Guilt

Part of the “Illicit Limerence” series.

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Summary: Javier is confronted with the stakes of losing an important coworker and friend as the reader gets injured during a chase. But grief and hospitals aren’t really his scene. The reader finds out the extent of her injuries and condition, leaving her shocked to the core.

Warnings: swearing, violence, mentions of injury, angst and some fluff

Masterlist

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DEA agents were hurt and killed almost daily, that was just the way things were with the cartel. Pablo didn’t care about who they were or what their legacy was, married or not, children or not, to Escobar they were just the enemy’s pawns. Javier Peña was well-aware of this and therefore rarely turned his head when another death within the office was called. He didn’t do funerals, he did women and drinking instead. In a time of war there was no time for grieving, he believed it to be a weakness of the flesh much worse than indulging in the warmth of a prostitute or colleague every now and then. This had become a routine for him and while it ate away at his conscience he never once considered giving up his bachelor-lifestyle. Never until today.

The narco screamed as Javier tackled him to the asphalt, brutally bending his arms behind his back, slapping the cuffs around his wrists. He opened his mouth to yell something out to Carillo when he heard the echo of two gunshots, followed by a cry. As his ears registered the pitch and tone, he made it out to be you. His head shot up immediately, already in desperate search of the source of your whereabouts.

Carillo took the detained from his clammy hands, leaving Javier to find you. Everything went quiet and all he could hear in that moment of utter panic was his obscene breathing and rapid heartbeat. When he rounded the corner, seeing Steve’s back turned to him, a pool of broken glass and legs he could only assume were yours he felt his heart drop. Murphy was frantically babbling into his radio as Javier stepped closer, the blood on the floor sickening.

He stood still next to Steve, watching the way your relaxed body laid in his arms, unmoving. “Is she-“

“No”, Steve replied quickly, beckoning for Javier to take his spot. “Stay with her, I’m getting the med kit from the car.”

He hesitantly sat down on his knees, the glass scraping against the fabric of his jeans as he gently pulled you onto his upper thighs. He spotted the burnt fabric on your vest and thanked his stupid teasing for having secured it earlier. It was as if you were just asleep, eyes closed, a peaceful look settling on your features. That’s what he told himself, she’s just resting, it’s been a long day, she’s fine, just tired.

Usually when you were sprawled out in his arms it was after another heated round of mind-numbing sex, naked and glistening with sweat. He thought of the way you looked then, skin glowing with pleasure, lips curled up in the most mesmerizing smile, eyelids fluttering closed as he trailed his long fingers over your chest. Rather than being covered in each other’s sweat, he found his hands stained with your vibrant-red blood and rather than trailing his fingertips across the curve of your breasts his left hand rested on the back of your head, hair sticking to itself from the mixture of sweat and blood.

It was a horror, the otherwise so lively and feisty woman appearing dead. The more he thought of it, the more he started shaking, panicking, checking for a heartbeat despite hearing your soft breaths. He couldn’t stand the idea of never getting to apologize to you, never having you curled up against his chest again, laughing about something stupid. The mere possibility of never seeing you at that desk again, stuffing your mouth with whatever the kitchen had to offer, completely dropping the “ladylike” act in front of your two partners, it tugged right at his heartstrings.

When Steve returned, putting some balled up spare clothes underneath you to keep them from cutting you up even more, Javier was dead silent and pale with terror. He gave his fellow agent a death glare when he gently shifted her body back to the floor, his arms tightening around you. “We need to get her vest off and check her chest”, Steve commanded, Javier finally loosening his grip, allowing you to lay on the makeshift “bed”.

“Ambulance?”, he breathed.

“Still on the way”, Steve huffed as he carefully undid the several buckles and straps on your vest.

As the two frantic men were bickering back and forth accusing the other one of not being careful enough or being a blatant idiot you slowly came to. A soft whine left your lips as you blinked a couple of times, the bright daylight inducing the absolute worst headache you ever felt. Soon the two of them were hovering over you, asking a myriad of questions while you were just trying to put two and two together. You couldn’t even bring yourself to move an inch, your entire body just aching and seemingly on fire. As you registered the severity of your fall, your breathing started to speed up, the two fussing men not helping you with your oncoming panic attack. Javier rested a bloodied hand on your cheek in an attempt to calm you down, he was whispering something to you, in Spanish, fingers stroking back and forth in a gentle motion. You tried to speak but found yourself unable to, a tear of frustration falling out of the corner of your eye.

“Cariño, quédate conmigo, por favor”, he muttered, “Está bien, la ambulancia llegará pronto.” (Stay with me, it’s okay, the ambulance will be here soon).

He hadn’t been this soft with you in weeks and the longer you stared up at him through your heavy eyes, the guiltier he felt about it. With every blink your eyes struggled more and more to open again, your body urging, begging you to just rest. You were defenceless against yourself, the sustained injuries asking just too much of you, and soon you were out again, breathing steadying once again. Javier bit his tongue trying to ground himself and keep calm as he heard the wailing sirens in the distance. Steve had been taken your vest of by now, lifting your shirt to reveal nasty bruises on your chest, the vest had saved your life. Javier said a prayer right there and then, thanking whatever entity up above responsible for saving you, for letting you stay with him.

When the paramedics took over and removed the two of them from the scene they were in a trance-like state. Steve had been through this before, back in the states he’d lost his partner, which had proven to him just how powerful drugs were. Death was just a part of the job, but losing a partner, that shit was personal.

 How they managed to get to the hospital unscathed was beyond anyone’s understanding, but as Steve sat in the waiting room with sweet Connie holding his hand, Javier was angry. It should’ve been him, he had told you not to go, but you just wouldn’t fucking listen. They didn’t even catch the guy, which maybe wasn’t the worst outcome, seeing how Javier would have absolutely murdered him with his bare hands.

“Javier just sit down, this isn’t helping anyone”, Connie spoke up, clearly having had enough of the man’s continuous pacing. “Why don’t you get yourself a coffee or something, you could be here another couple hours.”

She did have a point, you’d been in surgery for little over an hour and with every passing minute his need to just run off was getting more and more prominent. But he knew that the doctor could walk through those doors any minute as well, so he wanted to stay put, for you.

Upon seeing his partner’s lack of movement, Steve stood up. “How about I go get us those coffees then”, he offered.

Being alone with just Connie, a close friend of yours, made him feel even more nervous. Luckily for him the doors swung open before any kind of conversation could be started. Revealing the doctor that had rushed you away earlier. Your two friends went to stand, politely nodding at the doctor.

“The patient is stable, she suffered a broken collarbone which we managed to fix into place during surgery. She also sustained a concussion and a laceration to the back of the head which has been closed up. And uh she has some contusions among minor cuts over the body, nothing to be too worried about.” Javier and Connie sighed in relief. “But I need to speak to Steve Murphy, he was listed as Miss y/l/n’s emergency contact.”

“That’s my husband, he’s gone to get some coffee, should be back any second”, Connie replied, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “Can we go see her?”

“The patient’s waking up just now, so she’ll be out of it for a little bit.” With that he led them to your room, carefully opening the dim room, quickly adding that it had to do with the smack to the head you’d suffered.

Javier and Connie sat on either side of the bed, the doctor quickly leaving the room almost bumping into Steve on the way out. When he introduced himself the doctor whisked him away, presumably to have that confidential chat.

A quiet sob drew Javier’s attention back to the scene in front of him, nothing that Connie had started to cry, carefully holding your hand in hers. “Careful with that, we still need that back at the office, evidence”, he joked, eliciting a sad smile from his friend.

“Just look at her Javi, she must’ve been so scared.”

He looked at the IV’s in your left hand and the several bandages covering your body. “She’ll be alright Con, I promise.”

Steve re-entered the room with heavy steps, head hanging low and he looked at his wife. “Connie, a word, out in the hall”, he sighed.

She quickly wiped at her eyes and left the room, following her husband outside. He was alone with you now and felt incredibly out of place. You were the one to make situations less awkward and insufferable, you were the one to lighten the mood with some stupid joke or story about something back in the States. You, you, you – anything and everything was you, it was like his fucking world revolved around it- her. The poor man wasn’t able to deal with the near loss of you and his feelings, so he did what seemed best to him, pressing a quick kiss to your head and booking it, leaving you alone.

The simple touch had its desired effect, eyes fluttering open just as he walked over the threshold of your room, disappearing into the Columbian night. As you blinked a couple of times, vision somewhat blurry, all you could feel was pain, intense pain from your shoulder. Just as you tried to sit up a bit more the Murphys walked in, Connie quickly rushing over to your side and forcing you to lay back.

“Hey, y/n, hey, you’re in the hospital”, she explained slowly, gesturing at the several wires and monitors.

“Ja-Javier?”, you croaked out, throat completely dry and scratchy.

Steve poured you a glass of water while speaking: “He must’ve left. Listen, I know you’re probably exhausted and all but we need to have a chat.”

Nothing could have prepared you for the absolute bomb Steve was about to drop on you, those three little words changed everything. You – are – pregnant. Normally people would be nothing short of euphoric hearing such a confession, but to you – a woman with no partner and a job in one of the most dangerous places to be – it was a death penalty.

You had stayed in the hospital five more days, fellow agents coming to pay their respects, but you were just in a state of utter shock and frankly denial. You had argued with doctors and nurses, demanding they’d take your blood again and do it right. But no matter how much you protested and wanted it to not be true, you were in fact pregnant.

Five whole days of friends and colleagues supporting and loving you, even a call from your fucking parents at some point, but no Javier. Connie and Steve hadn’t pried for information, prioritizing your recovery for now, but you knew fully well your old friend had his suspicions. They hadn’t told anyone else, and as of yet it was just you, them two and the medical staff that was aware, already way too many people for your liking.

On the fifth day nobody visited, as per your request, you’d be moving in with Connie and Steve for the next couple of weeks, your concussion-induced vertigo and left arm requiring almost constant assistance, or as you saw it: babysitting. So, you’d told everyone to fuck off until it was time to go to hopefully get some time to yourself, time that you could spend in your own head. As you sat up on the hospital bed, half dressed, incapable of putting a shirt over your head, you broke down. It wasn’t necessarily the shirt that made you this upset it was just everything; the accident, the fact that you were pregnant and most of all him. He hadn’t even made an effort to visit you, to check up on you.

Or so you thought. You see, while you were out in that bed, life at the office just continued where it left off, Peña and Murphy still sitting at their desks and going out in the field. Only now they only ever talked about three things; new leads, that new bar downtown and you. Well to be completely honest, Steve didn’t really ever mention you but Javi.. he couldn’t shut up about you, bugging his poor co-worker on the daily, trying to get at least some information out of him. Steve had gotten so fed up one late night that he’d tossed the case files at the other man’s head, telling him to go to that damned hospital instead. After that he stopped asking and was left to brood and mull in his bed, kitchen, shower, basically anytime he was alone. Surely you wouldn’t want him there, considering what terms you were on, but would it be so bad for him to just swing by, talk to you for half an hour or so, see how you were doing with his own eyes? He deemed it best to leave you alone and not give you more of a headache. But by Saturday afternoon, the day you were supposed to be emitted, he couldn’t help himself. He got in his car and just drove there, hastily parking his car as he ran up to your room, stopping at the door as he heard your muffled weeping.

The soft knock interrupted your heartfelt moment, you saw his reflection in the windows, unable to turn your head around. “Can I come in?”, he asked with a small voice.

“Y-yeah”, you answered, trying to cover yourself with your good arm.

He wordlessly walked over to you, quickly gathering the shirt from the floor and stepping closer. “Guide me.” Javier tenderly helped you into your shirt, following your every instruction and checking if he was doing okay every time you winced. When you were dressed he sat next to you on the bed, holding the hairbrush you’d handed him just seconds before. “I-I’ve never done someone else’s hair, are you sure you want to look even more of a mess?”, he joked.

You quietly chuckled, fidgeting with the hair tie in your hand. “Can’t get much worse anyways, just be careful with the ends.”

The two of you sat in comfortable silence as he brushed through your untamed hair, profusely apologizing every time the brush would get tangled, making the both of you laugh a little. It was a small win, just a sweet and innocent moment with the most dangerous man around, at least to you. He struggled to comb it all back, clearly not used to performing even the easiest of hairstyles. Eventually your hair did end up in something akin to a ponytail, at least he tried. After he zipped up your bag for you and checked the room for anything left behind you tried to slip on your shoes, a pair of tennis shoes to be exact, ones you frequented due to the nature of your job. Chasing narco-men wasn’t exactly ideal when wearing heels, so yes, you lived in flats. He soon got on his knees in front of you, helping you in your shoes and tying the laces for you, not able to watch you struggle any longer. The two of you didn’t talk other than the occasional “does this hurt” and “what now”. He offered to drive you home, but you explained Steve would be picking you up in a bit, informing him that you’d be staying over at their place, but a floor away from his own door.

“I should probably go then – unless you need anything else”, he said, hands in his pockets.

You went to stand, losing your balance a bit and steadying yourself by holding on to the frame of your bed. “Actually, if you don’t mind, can you help me to the entrance, I’d rather wait there.”

With his arm wrapped around your waist, by means of support, totally nothing else, he helped you get downstairs, to the entrance. He’d insisted you stayed inside, telling you about the dangers of being alone. You’d rolled your eyes, reminding him you had worked here just as long as he had, making him jut his hip. It’s then that Steve pulled up out front, quickly walking over to the two of you.

“What the hell is he doing here?”, Steve asked you, eyeing his partner up and down.

“He was just visiting and now he is leaving, see you Monday, Murphy”, Javier scoffed as he patter the man on the back, walking off without another word.

As Murphy helped you in his car he quirked an eyebrow at your messy hair; “Peña do that to you?” You nodded. “What’s that all about?”

“Survivor’s guilt”, you chuckled.

Taglist: @peterhollandkait @pedritomando​ 

[livia-dovehallow]

future talks - gabrily

in honor of yours truly managing to score tickets to MARINA’s virtual concert next month with an afterparty pass and t shirt before they sold out, here is a un-related fluffy piece for our favorite shadowhunter couple to have ever existed !!!

Characters: Cecily Herondale, Gabriel Lightwood, Gideon Lightwood

Time/Place: 1882, London, England, UK

Documents scattered the library table in an unorganized shuffle of thoughts. Cecily scanned the names of each sheet of paper before her looking for the one she needed in that moment, growing more and more frustrated the longer it took her to find it.

Gabriel sat beside her searching as well. He had not made any sound of frustration as she had been doing but his face gave away that he felt the same way. Only Gideon across from them remained calm, though if a bit exasperated. “It’s not here, Gideon,” Gabriel stated for the third time in the last five minutes. He tossed the stack of papers he had in his hand back onto the table with a sharp slap. “How could it be missing? It’s the most important sheet of paper in this mess!”

“There’s no need to get cross,” Gideon said calmly, which only aggravated his brother more.

Cecily set her hands on the table, palms pressed against the solid wood, and inhaled slowly. Both boys ceased their bickering. Gabriel set his hand over hers gently. She looked at him, then at Gideon. “Is it possible to get a new one, Gideon?” she asked, tired. “If there is a fee, you can charge it to my brother.”

Gabriel let out a short puff of air meant as a laugh and squeezed her hand. Gideon began to gather his own set of papers, organized as he kept them always, and began to stand from the table. “I will go see if they can provide a new print now, that way if it will take time to arrive, we can still get it in before the ceremony.”

“Thank you,” Cecily said and smiled gratefully. Gideon nodded, and with a quick smile and wave, he left the library to the Hall of Records in Alicante. She turned to Gabriel, who still had her hand in his, and squeezed his fingers. “It’ll be all right,” she assured him.

Gabriel nodded and dropped his tense shoulders. She’d noticed how stressed and tense he had become over the last few days. Their wedding was only days away, and after years of courting and engagement, she knew he was as restless as she was to finally be married. “I know,” he answered with a small smile. “I just want everything to go smoothly. No hiccups or problems.”

Cecily laughed and threw her head back onto the backrest of her chair. “When has there ever been a no-problem event among this group of people, hm?” She turned back toward him and admired the way his cheekbones were enhanced by the witchlights in the library. “Gideon will find us a new marriage certificate and everything will be well.”

“Should you still be called Mrs. Lightwood if there is no marriage certificate?”

“I can do as I please.”

Gabriel smiled, affectionate and genuine this time, and turned back to the papers across the table. “Okay,” he said, mostly to himself, and reached for the first paper he saw. “That makes me feel better. We can work on the other documents while we wait for Gideon.”

Cecily pouted. “What else is there to do?” she lamented. “Mundane marriages do not involve nearly as much paperwork.”

“Do they?” Gabriel asked absently, shuffling through his pile. Cecily groaned. Over the course of their engagement, they’d completed a variety of forms and documents needed to make their union official in the eyes of the Clave. Providing birth certificates (which proved more difficult than Cecily would have liked. How was she supposed to know that her mundane-issued birth certificate had been stored in special forces?), filing for an officially sanctioned union, choosing wedding decorations and food, and not to mention the ages she spent finding the perfect wedding dress. And yet there was much to do—including having their marriage certificate ready for signing at the end of their ceremony.

“What is this?” Gabriel asked suddenly, pulling Cecily out of her half-asleep state. She blinked at him and took the page from his hand, reading the type as it came into focus.

“’Ensure your future husband is ready for life,’” she read aloud. Below was a list of topics one was meant to discuss with their betrothed prior to engagement. Cecily giggled. “It’s from a mundane women’s magazine,” she explained to Gabriel, who clearly had never touched a mundane magazine before. “Sophie or Tessa must have thrown it in with our files in jest. It’s meant to be taken at the time of engagement.”

Gabriel took back the page and studied it. “These are all quite important topics indeed,” he commented. “’Finances and Dowry, Size of Home, Duties, Children.’”

“I don’t have a dowry,” she said and raised an eyebrow at him. “That isn’t going to be an issue, is it?”

“Of course not,” Gabriel answered seriously. Cecily giggled again; she was only joking, but Gabriel was always serious about being a modern man. “And if you did, I would reject it.”

“Truly?” Cecily questioned, intrigued.

“Truly,” Gabriel answered. He turned to her. “Others see marriage as a business transaction. Indebted men seek plentiful dowries to pay off their debts, nothing more. I do not want any part of that.”

“My father would be pleased to hear you say that.” Cecily reached up and kissed his cheek gently, feeling his face lift with a smile beneath her lips. “Besides, I am proud of you for giving up most of your inheritance to Tatiana. Angel knows that girl is not deserving of your kindness.”

Gabriel’s eyes were sad. “She’s my sister,” he said with a heavy sigh. “And I hope she uses it to take care of Jesse. I think that is the primary reason I did what I did. She had a child and no salary.”

“You’re a very loving uncle,” she whispered to him. “I know you’d give anything for the little ones. I think you’ll make an excellent father.”

Gabriel flushed red and avoided her eyes, fidgeting with the magazine in his hands. “Speaking of children in the same building where your brother is present seems likes a death wish,” he said.

“For you,” she chirped with a shrug and fully turned in her seat so her entire body faced him. “Don’t worry. He’s all talk now.” Cecily paused then bit her lip. “Do—Do you not want children?”

Gabriel jumped in his seat and jerked his attention toward her once more, looking frazzled. “No!” he said quickly, then shook his head. “I mean, no that’s not what I meant.” He sighed. “I-I just never thought I’d have the opportunity to—you know—have children, really.”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t think I’d ever get married,” he answered quietly, with a pink flush to his cheeks. Cecily felt her heart squeeze at his tone. “It was always Gideon who was groomed to carry on my father’s legacy. I was just backup really. I thought I would have given my life in the field before I was ever mature enough to get married.”

Cecily brushed her fingers through his ever-toussled brown hair and admired him. He’d changed so much over the years and she only continued to fall deeper in love with him as he did. “Did I change your mind, then?”

Gabriel’s face lifted as did the corners of his mouth. “Yes,” he confirmed with a short laugh. “I may actually grow old now.”

Cecily rolled her eyes but she laughed, happy to see him in a better place in his life than he had been when she met him. “I am glad,” she said.

“I do want children,” he added, squeezing her hand once more and looking into her eyes with those comforting green ones. “Especially with you. You’re right. I love being an uncle and being around the little ones. It’d—be very nice to have some of our own.”

Her heart burst in her chest with more happiness and love than she ever thought she was capable of. Without hesitation she surged forward and took his face in her grasp, pressing her lips to his. He smiled against her and held her steady as she leaned out of her chair. “I love you,” she mumbled.

“I love you, too.”

She pulled away from him reluctantly. “I think I need to be an aunt, first,” she said.

Gabriel blinked. “You’ve been one.”

“Not officially. We are not yet married.”

“The girls call you Aunt Cecily.”

“It needs to be official.”

He laughed and nodded. “All right,” he caved, pressing another quick kiss to her before setting her back into her seat. “Anything else you wish for upon marrying me?”

“Besides children and an official Aunt title?” She teased.

“Yes, besides those.”

Cecily pretended to ponder long and hard about her answer, despite the fact she knew exactly what it was before he even asked. “I want you to stay with me.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Is that all? Seems easy enough.”

“And also tell me how wonderful I am every single day.”

“Every day?”

“Yes.”

“All right.”

“I am not expensive to please.”

“I can see that.”

Cecily grinned at him, unable to contain her excitement to spend the rest of her life with him. She wanted a love as strong as her parents’ and she had found it. “Is there something you want from me?”

Gabriel seemed surprised by this. “Anything I want?”

“Yes, you.”

He mocked her pondering expression from moments ago, prompting her to huff in faux annoyance. “I also want you to stay with me.”

“I can do that.”

His smile was sweet and vulnerable, an expression she knew only she got to see. She hoped one day he’d look at their children with that expression as well, but until that day came, she was content being the only person in the world he looked at with such love and affection. She began to imagine what their children together would look like in her mind. Whose eyes would they inherit? Would they get her black hair or his brown? Would they have all girls or all boys or a mix? Oh, Gabriel with a daughter would be so sweet—

“Cecy? What are you thinking about?”

“Our children.”

Gabriel flushed red once more and quickly looked away and back toward their documents. “One step at a time, Cecy. We need to get properly married first.”

“Details.”

[ariainstars]

Thank You, Disney Lucasfilm… For Destroying My Dreams

Warning: longer post.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So… I watched The Rise of Skywalker on Disney+ a few weeks ago. Again.

Sigh.

I guess it has its good sides. But professional critics tend to dislike it and even the general audience doesn’t go crazy for it. I wonder why?

  The Fantasy

When his saga became a groundbreaking pop phenomenon in the 1970es, George Lucas reportedly said that he wanted to tell fairy tales again in world that no longer seemed to offer young people a chance to grow up with them. The fact that his saga was met with such unabashed, international enthusiasm proves that he was right: people long for fairy tales no matter how old they are and what culture they belong to.

“Young people today don’t have a fantasy life anymore, not the way we did… All they’ve got is Kojak and Dirty Harry. All the films they see are movies of disasters and insecurity and realistic violence.” (George Lucas)

I’ve been a Star Wars fan for more than thirty years. I love the Original Trilogy but honestly it did not make me dream much, perhaps because when I saw it the trilogy was already complete. The Prequel Trilogy also did not inspire my fantasy.

The Last Jedi accomplished something that no TV show, book or film had managed in years: it made me dream. The richness of colorful characters, multifaceted themes, unexpected developments, intriguing relationships was something I had not come across in a long time: it fascinated me. I felt like a giddy teenager reading up meta’s, writing my own and imagining all sorts of beautiful endings for the saga for almost two years.

So if there’s something The Rise of Skywalker can pride itself on for me, it’s that it crushed almost every dream I had about it. The few things I had figured out – Rey’s fall to the Dark, Ben Solo’s redemption, the connection between them - did not even make me happy because they were tainted by the flatness of the storytelling reducing the Force to a superpower again (like the general audience seems to believe it is), and its deliberate ignoring of almost all messages of The Last Jedi.

Many fans of the Original Trilogy also were disillusioned by the saga over the decades and ranted at the studios for “destroying their childhood”. Now we, the fans of the sequels and in particular of The Last Jedi, are in the same situation… but the thought doesn’t make the pill much easier to swallow. What grates on my nerves is the feeling that someone trampled on my just newly found dreams like a naughty child kicking a doll’s house apart. Why give us something to dream of in the first place, then? To a certain extent I can understand that many fans would angrily assume that Disney Lucasfilm made the Sequel Trilogy for the purpose of destroying their idea of the saga. The point is that they had their happy ending, while every dream the fans of the Sequel Trilogy may have had was shattered with this unexpectedly flat and hollow final note.

I know many fans who dislike the Prequel Trilogy heartily. I also prefer the Original Trilogy, but I find the prequels all right in their own way, also since I gave them some thought. However, it can’t be denied that they lack the magic spark which made the Original Trilogy so special. Which makes sense since they are not a fairy tale but ultimately a tragedy, but in my opinion it’s the one of the main reasons why the Prequel Trilogy never was quite so successful, or so beloved.

Same goes for Rogue One, Solo, or Clone Wars. They’re ok in their way, but not magical.

The sequel trilogy started quite satisfyingly with The Force Awakens, but for me, the actual bomb dropped with The Last Jedi. Reason? It was a magical story. It had the spark again that I had missed in the new Star Wars stories for decades! And it was packed full of beautiful messages and promises.

The Force is not a superpower belonging solely to the Jedi Anyone can be a hero. Even the greatest heroes can fail, but they will still be heroes. Hope is like the sun: if you only believe in it when you see it you’ll never make it through the night. Failure is the greatest teacher. It’s more important to save the light than to seem a hero. No one is never truly gone. War is only a machine. Dark Side and Light Side can be unbeatable if they are allies. Save what you love instead of destroying what you hate.

Naively, I assumed the trilogy would continue and end in that same magical way. And then came The Rise of Skywalker… which looks and feels like a Marvel superhero story at best and an over-long videogame at worst.

Chekov’s Gun

“Remove everything that has no relevance to the story. If you say in the first chapter that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter it absolutely must go off. If it’s not going to be fired, it shouldn’t be hanging there.”

(Anton Chekov, 1860 - 1904)

If you show an important looking prop and don’t put it to use, it leaves the audience feeling baffled. There is a huge difference between a story’s setup, and the audience’s feeling of entitlement. E.g. many viewers expected Luke to jump right back into the fray in Episode VIII, because that’s what a hero does, isn’t it? The cavalry comes and saves the day. And instead, we met a disillusioned elderly hermit who is tired of the ways of the Jedi. But there was no actual reason for disappointment: in Episode VII it was very clearly said (through Han, his best friend) that Luke had gone into exile on purpose, feeling responsible for his failure in teaching a new generation of Jedi. It would have been more than stupid to show him as an all-powerful and all-knowing man who kills the bad guys. Sorry but who expected that was a victim to his own prejudice.

A promise left unfulfilled is a different story. The Last Jedi set up a lot of promises that didn’t come true in The Rise of Skywalker: Balance as announced by the Jedi temple mosaic, a new Jedi Order hinted at by Luke on Crait, a good ending for Ben and Rey set up by the hand-touching scene which was opposite to Anakin’s and Padmés wedding scene. Many fans were annoyed about the Canto Bight sequence. I liked it because it felt like the set-up for a lot of important stuff: partnership between Finn and Rose whom we see working together excellently, freedom for the enslaved children (one of whom is Force-sensitive), DJ and Rose expressing what makes wars in general foolish and beside the point. So if we, the fans of Episode VIII, now feel angry and let down, I daresay it’s not due to entitlement. We were announced magical outcomes and not just pew-pew.

The Star Wars saga never repeated itself but always developed and enlarged its themes, so it was to be expected that delving deeper, uncomfortable truths would come out: wars don’t start out of nowhere, and they don’t flare up and continue for decades for the same reason. In order to find Balance, the Jedi’s and the Skywalker family’s myths needed to be dismantled. Which is not necessarily bad as long it is explained how things came to this, and a better alternative is offered. The prequels explained the old political order and the beginnings of the Skywalker family, and announced that the next generation would do better. The sequels hardly explained anything about the 30 years that passed since our heroes won the battle against the Empire, and while The Last Jedi hinted at the future a lot, The Rise of Skywalker seemed to make a point of ignoring all of it.

  The Skywalker Family Is Obliterated. Why?

Luke was proven right that his nephew would mean the end of everything he loved. The lineage of the Chosen One is gone. His grandson had begun where Vader had ended - tormented, pale and with sad eyes - and he met the same fate. Luke, Han, Leia, all sacrificed themselves to bring Ben Solo back for nothing. Him being the reincarnation of the Chosen One and getting a new chance should have been meaningful for all of them; instead, he literally left the scepter to Rey who did nothing to deserve it: merely because she killed the Bad Guy does not mean she will do a better job than the family whose name and legacy she proudly takes over.

I do hope there was a good reason if the sequels did not tell “The New Adventures of Luke, Leia and Han” and instead showed us a broken family on the eve of its wipeout. It would have been much easier, and more fun for the audience, to bring the trio back again after a few years and pick up where they had left. Instead we had to watch their son, nephew and heir go his grandfather’s way - born with huge power, branded as Meant to Be Dangerous from the start, tried his best to be a Jedi although he wanted to be a pilot, never felt accepted, abandoned in the moment of his greatest need, went to his abuser because he was the only one to turn to, became a criminal, his own family (in Anakin’s case: Obi-Wan and Yoda) trained the person who was closest to him to kill him, sacrificed himself for this person and died. And in his case, it’s particularly frustrating because Kylo Ren wasn’t half as impressive a villain as Vader, and Ben Solo had a very limited time of heroism and personal fulfilment, contrarily to Anakin when he was young.

The impact of The Rise of Skywalker was traumatic for some viewers. I know of adolescents and adults, victims of family abandonment and abuse, who identified with Ben: they were told that you can never be more than the sum of your abuse and abandonment, and that they’re replaceable if they’re not “good”. Children identifying with Rey were told that their parents might sell them away for “protection”. Rey was not conflicted, she had a few doubts but overall, she was cool about everything she did, so she got everything on a silver platter; that’s why as a viewer, after a while you stopped caring for her. Her antagonist was doomed from birth because he dared to question the choices other people made for him. It seems that in the Star Wars universe, you can only “rise” if you’re either a criminal but cool because you’ve always got a bucket over your head (Vader / the Mandalorian) or are a saint-like figure (Luke / Rey).

One of Obi-Wan’s first actions in A New Hope is cutting off someone’s arm who was only annoying him; Han Solo, ditto. These were no acts of self-defense. The Mandalorian is an outlaw. Yet they are highly popular. Why? Because they always keep their cool, so anything they do seems justified. Young Anakin was hated, Jake Lloyd and Hayden Christensen attacked for his portrayal. For the same reason many fans feel that Luke is the least important of the original trio although basically the Original Trilogy is his story: it seems the general audience hates nothing more than emotionality in a guy. They want James Bond, Batman or Indiana Jones as the lead. Padmé loved Anakin because she always saw the good little boy he once was in him; his attempts at impressing her with his flirting or his masculinity failed. Kylo tried to impress Rey with his knowledge and power, but she fled from him - she wanted the gentle, emphatic young man who had listened to her when she felt alone. Good message. But both died miserably, and Ben didn’t even get anything but a kiss. Realizing that his “not being as strong as Darth Vader” might actually be a strength of its own would have meant much more.

The heroes of the Original Trilogy had their adventures together and their happy ending; the heroes of the Prequel Trilogy also had good times and accomplishments in their youth, before everything went awry. Rey, Finn and Poe feel like their friendship hardly got started; Rose was almost obliterated from the narrative; and Ben Solo seems to have had only one happy moment in his entire life. Of course it’s terrible that he committed patricide (even if it was under coercion), but Anakin / Vader himself had two happy endings in the Prequel Trilogy before he became the monster we know so well. Not to mention Clone Wars, where he has heroic moments unnumbered.

The Skywalker family is obliterated without Balance in the Force, and the young woman who inherited all doesn’t seem to have learned any lesson from all this. The Original Trilogy became a part of pop culture among other things because its ending was satisfying. We can hardly be expected to be satisfied with an ending where our heroes are all dead and the heir of their worst enemy takes over. What good was the happy ending of the Original Trilogy for if they didn’t learn enough from their misadventures to learn how to protect one single person - their son and nephew, their future?

For a long time, I also thought that the saga was about Good vs. Evil. Watching the prequels again, I came to the conclusion that it is rather about Love vs. War. And now, considering as a whole, I believe it to be essentially Jedi against Skywalker. The ending, as it is now, says that both fractions lost: they annihilated one another, leaving a third party in charge, who believes to be both but actually knows very little about them.

Star Wars and Morality

After 9 films and 42 years, it still is not possible to make the general audience accept that it is wrong to divide people between Good and Evil in the first place. The massive rejection of both prequels and sequels, which have moral grey zones galore, shows it.

It is also not possible without being accused of actual blasphemy in the same fandom, to say the plain truth that no Skywalker ever was a Jedi at heart. As their name says, they’re pilots. Luke was the last and strongest of all Jedi because he always was first and foremost himself. Anakin was crushed by the Jedi’s attempts to stifle his feelings. His grandson, too. A Force-sensitive person ought to have the choice whether they want to be a Jedi or not; they ought not to be taught to suppress their emotions and live only on duty, without really caring for other people; and they ought to grow up feeling in a safe and loving environment, not torn away from their families in infancy, indoctrinated and provided with a light sabre (a deadly weapon) while they’re still small. A Jedi order composed of child soldiers or know-it-all’s does not really help anybody.

The original Star Wars saga was about love and friendship; although many viewers did not want to understand that message. The prequels portrayed the Jedi as detached and arrogant and Anakin Skywalker sympathetically, a huge disappointment for who only accepts stories of the “lonesome cowboy” kind. The Last Jedi was so hated that The Rise of Skywalker backpedaled: sorry, of course you’re right, here you have your “hero who knows everything better and fixes everything for you on a silver platter”. The embarrassing antihero, who saves the girl who was the only person showing him some human compassion, can die miserably in the process and is not even mourned.

Honestly: I was doubtful whether it would be adequate to give Ben Solo a happy ending after the patricide. I guess letting him die was the easiest way out for the authors to escape censorship. (I even wrote this in a review on amazon about The Last Jedi, before I delved deeper into the saga’s themes.) The messages we got now are even worse.

Kylo Ren / Ben Solo

A parent can replace a child if they’re not the way they expect them to be. A victim of lifelong psychical and physical abuse can only find escape in death, whether he damns or redeems himself. An introspective, sensitive young man is a loser no matter how hard he tries either way. A whole family can sacrifice itself to save their heir, he dies anyway.

Rey

Self-righteousness is acceptable as long as you find a scapegoat for your own failings. Overconfidence justifies anything you do. You can’t carve your way as a female child of “nobodies”, you have to descend from someone male and powerful even if that someone is the devil incarnate. You are a “strong female” if you choose to be lonely; you need neither a partner nor friends.

In General

Star Wars is not about individual choices, loyalty, friendship and love, it is a classic Western story with a lonesome cowboy (in this case: cowgirl) at its centre. Satisfied? 

The father-son-relationship between Vader and Luke mirrors the Biblical story of Cain and Abel, saying that whoever we may want to kill is, in truth, our kin, which makes a clear separation in Good and Evil impossible. The “I am your father” scene is so infamous by now that even non-fans are aware of it; but this relationship between evil guy and good guy, as well as the plot turns where the villain saves the hero and that the hero discards his weapon are looked upon rather as weird narrative quirks instead of a moral. 

In  an action movie fan, things are simple: good guy vs. bad guy, the good guy (e.g. James Bond may be a murderer and a misogynist, but that’s ok because he’s cool about it) kills the bad guy, ka-boom, end of story. But Star Wars is a parable, an ambitious project told over decades of cinema, and a multilayered story with recurring themes.

A fairy tale ought to have a moral. The moral of both Original Trilogy and Prequel Trilogy was compassionate love - choose it and you can end a raging conflict, reject it and you will cause it. What was the moral of the Sequel Trilogy? You can be the offspring of the galaxy’s worst terror and display a similar attitude, but pose as a Jedi and kill unnecessarily, and it’s all right; descend from Darth Vader (who himself was a victim long before he became a culprit) and whether you try to become a Jedi trained by Luke Skywalker or a Sith trained by his worst enemy, you will end badly?

Both original and prequel trilogy often showed “good” people making bad choices and the “bad ones” making the right choices. To ensure lasting peace, no Force user ought to be believe that he must choose one side and then stick to it for the rest of his life: both sides need one another. The prequels took 3 films to convey this message, though not saying so openly. The Last Jedi said it out clearly - and the authors almost had their heads ripped off by affronted fans, resulting in The Rise of Skywalker’s fan service. It’s not like Luke, Han and Leia were less heroic in the Sequel Trilogy, on the contrary, they gave everything they had to their respective cause. They were not united, and they were more human than they had once been. Apparently, that’s an affront.

The Jedi are no perfect heroes and know-it-all’s and they never were, the facts are there for everyone to see. Padmé went alone and pregnant to get her husband out of Mustafar - and she almost succeeded - although she knew what he had done and that he was perfectly capable of it (he had told her of the Tusken village massacre himself) because she still saw the good little boy he had been in him; Obi-Wan left him amputated and burning in the lava, although he had raised Anakin like a small brother and the latter had repeatedly saved his life. But Padmé was not a Jedi, so I guess she still had some human decency. Neither Obi-Wan nor Yoda lifted a finger for the oppressed populations of the galaxy during the Empire, waiting instead for Anakin’s son to grow up so they could trick him into committing patricide. Neither Luke nor Leia did anything for their own son and nephew while he became the scourge of the galaxy, damning his soul by committing crime after crime. On Exegol, Rey heard the voices of all Jedi encouraging her to fight Palpatine to death. After that, they left her to die alone, and the alleged “bad guy”, who had already saved her soul from giving in to Palpatine’s lures, had to save her life by giving her his own. The Jedi merely know that “their side” has to win, no matter the cost for anyone’s life, sanity, integrity or happiness.

Excuse me, these are simple facts. How anyone can still believe that the Jedi were super-powerful heroes who always win or all-knowing wizards who are always right is beyond me. Luke, the last and strongest of them, like a bright flickering of light before the ultimate end, showed us that the best of men can fail. There is nothing wrong with that in itself. But it is wrong and utterly frustrating when all of the failure never leads to anything better. If Rey means to rebuild the Jedi order to something better than it was, there was no hint at that whatsoever.

  And What Now?

The Last Jedi hit theatres only 2 years before The Rise of Skywalker, and I can’t imagine that the responsible authors all have forgotten how to make competent work in the meantime; more so considering that Solo or The Mandalorian are solid work. Episode IX is thematically so painfully flat it seems like they wanted us to give up on the saga on purpose. The last instalment of a 42-year-old saga ought to have been the best and most meaningful. I had heard already decades ago that the saga was supposed to have 9 chapters, so I was not among who protested against the sequels thinking that they had been thought up to make what had come before invalid. I naively assumed a larger purpose. But Episode IX only seems to prove these critics perfectly right.

The last of the flesh and blood of the Chosen One is dead without having “finished what his grandfather started”?

Still no Balance in the Force?

And worst of all, Palpatine’s granddaughter taking over, having proven repeatedly that she is not suited for the task?

Sorry, this “ending” is absurd. I have read fanfiction that was better written and more interesting. And, most of all, less depressing. I was counting on a conclusion that showed that the Force has all colours and nuances, and that it’s not limited to the black-and-white view “we against them”. That’s the ending all of us fans would have deserved, instead of catering the daddy issues of the part of the audience who doesn’t want stories other than those of the “lonesome cowboy” kind. I myself grew up on Japanese anime, maybe that’s one of the reasons why I can’t stand guys like James Bond or Batman and why I think you don’t need “a great hero who fixes the situation” but that group spirit and communication are way more important.

It was absolutely unexpected that Disney, the production company whose trademark are happy endings and family stories, would end this beloved and successful saga after almost half a century on such a hollow note. Why tell first a beautiful fairy tale and then leave the audience on a hook for 35 years to continue first with a tragedy (which at least was expected) and then with another (unexpected one)? And this story is supposed to be for children? Like children would understand all of the subtext, and love sad, cautionary tales. Children, as well as the general audience, first of all want to be entertained! No one wants to watch the legendary Skywalker family be obliterated and a Palpatine take over. The sequels were no fun anymore; we’ve been left with another open ending and hardly an explanation about what happened in the 30 years in between. If you want to tell a cautionary tale, you should better warn the general audience beforehand.

The Original Trilogy is so good because it’s entertaining and offers room for thought for who wants to think about its deeper themes, and also leaves enough space for dreams. Same goes for the first two films of the Sequel Trilogy; but precisely the last, which should have wrapped up the saga, leaves us with a bitter aftertaste and dozens of questions marks. 

We as the audience believe that a story, despite the tragic things that happen, must go somewhere; we get invested into the characters, we root for them, we want to see them happy in the end. (The authors of series like Girls, How I Met Your Mother or Game of Thrones ought to be reminded of that, too.) I was in contact with children and teenagers saying that the Sequel Trilogy are “boring”; and many, children or adults, who were devastated by its concluson. There is a difference between wanting to tell a cautionary tale and playing the audience for fools. This trilogy could have become legendary like the Original Trilogy, had it fulfilled its promises instead of “keeping it low” with its last chapter. Who watches a family or fantasy story or a romantic / comedic sitcom wants to escape into another world, not to be hit over his head with a mirror to his own failings, and the ones of the society he’s living in. Messages are all right, but they ought not to go at the cost of the audience’s satisfaction about the about the people and narrative threads they have invested in for years.

This isn’t a family story: but children probably didn’t pester the studios with angry e-mails and twitter messages etc. They simply counted on a redemption arc and happy ending, and they were right, because they’re not as stupid as adults are. I have read and watched many a comment from fans who hate The Last Jedi. Many of these fans couldn’t even pinpoint what their rage was all about, they only proved to be stuck with the original trilogy and unwilling to widen their horizon. But at least their heroes had had their happy ending: The Rise of Skywalker obliterated the successes of all three generations of Skywalkers.

If the film studios wanted to tease us, they’ve excelled. If they expect the general audience to break their heads over the sequels’ metaphysics, they have not learned from the reactions to the prequels that most viewers take these films at face value. Not everybody is elbows-deep in the saga, or willing to research about it for months, and / or insightful enough to see the story’s connections. Which is why many viewers frown at the narrative and believe the Sequel Trilogy was just badly written. This trilogy could have become legendary like the Original Trilogy, had it fulfilled its promises instead of “keeping it low” with its last chapter. As it is now, the whole trilogy is hanging somewhere in the air, with neither a past nor a future to be tied in with.

The prequels already had the flaw of remaining too obscure: most fans are not aware that Anakin had unwillingly killed his wife during the terrible operation that turned him into Darth Vader, sucking her life out of her through the Force: most go by “she died of a broken heart”. So although one scene mirrors the other, it is not likely that most viewers will understand what Rey’s resurrection meant. And: Why did Darth Maul kill Qui-Gon Jinn? What did the Sith want revenge for? Who was behind Shmi’s abduction and torture? Who had placed the order for the production of the clones, and to what purpose? We can imagine or try to reconstruct the answers, but nothing is confirmed by the story itself.

The sequels remained even more in the dark, obfuscating what little explanation we got in The Rise of Skywalker with quick pacing and mind-numbing effects.

Kylo Ren had promised his grandfather that “he would finish what he started”: he did not. Whatever one can say of this last film, it did not bring Balance in the Force. What’s worse, the subject was not even breached. It was hinted at by the mosaic on the floor of the Prime Jedi Temple on Ahch-To, but although Luke and Rey were sitting on its border, they never seemed to see what was right under their noses. It remains inexplicable why it was there for everyone to see in the first place.

We might argue that Ben finished what his grandfather started by killing (or better, causing the death of) the last Jedi, who this one couldn’t kill because he was his own son; but leaving Rey in charge, he helped her finish what her grandfather had started. The irony could hardly be worse.

Episode IX looks like J.J. Abrams simply completed what they started with Episode VII, largely ignoring the next film as if it was always planned to do so. We, the angry and disappointed fans of The Last Jedi, may believe it was due to some of the general audience’s angry backlash, but honestly: the studios aren’t that dumb. They had to know that Episode VIII would be controversial and that many fans would hate it. The furious reactions were largely a disgrace, but no one can make me believe that they were totally unexpected. Nor can anyone convince me that The Rise of Skywalker was merely an answer to the small but very loud part of the audience who hated The Last Jedi: a company with the power and the returns of Disney Lucasfilm does not need to buckle down before some fan’s entitlement and narrowmindedness out of fear of losing money. And if they do, it was foolish to make Rey so perfect that she becomes almost odious, and to let the last of the Skywalker blood die a meaningless death. (Had he saved the Canto Bight children and left them with Rey, at least he would have died with honor; and she, the child left behind by her parents, would have had a task to dedicate herself to.)

The only reason I can find for this odd ending is that it’s meant to prepare the way for Rian Johnson’s new trilogy, which - hopefully - will finally be about Balance. We as the audience don’t know what’s going on behind the doors. Filmmaking is a business like any other, i.e. based on contracts; and I first heard that Rian Johnson had negotiated a trilogy of his own since before Episode VIII hit theatres. Maybe he kept all the rights of intellectual property to his own film, including that he would finish the threads he picked up and close the narrative circles he opened, and only he; and that his alleged working on “something completely different” is deliberately misleading.

Some viewers love the original trilogy, some love the prequels, some like both; but I hardly expect anyone to love the sequel trilogy as a whole. What with the first instalment “letting the past die, killing it if they had to”, the second hinting at a promising future and the third patched on at the very last like some sort of band-aid, it was not coherent. I heard the responsible team for Game of Thrones even dropped their work, producing a dissatisfying, quickly sewn together last season, for this new Star Wars project and thereby disappointing millions of GoT fans; I hope they are aware of the expectations they have loaded upon them. George Lucas’ original trilogy had its faults, but but though there was no social media yet in his time, at least he was still close enough to the audience to give them what they needed, if not necessarily wanted. (Some fans can’t accept that Luke and Leia are siblings to this day, even if honestly, it was the very best plot twist to finish their story in a satisfying way.)

I’m hoping for now that The Last Jedi was not some love bombing directed at the more sentimental viewers but a promise that will be fulfilled. “Wrapping up” a saga by keeping the flattest, least convincing chapter for last is bad form. Star Wars did not become a pop phenomenon by accident, but because the original story was convincing and satisfying. Endings like these will hardly make anyone remember a story fondly, on the contrary, the audience will move to another fandom to forget their disappointment.

On a side note, I like The Mandalorian, exactly for the reason that that is a magical story; not as much as the original trilogy, but at least a little. Of course, I’m glad it was produced. But it’s a small consolation prize after the mess that supposedly wrapped up the original saga after 9 films.

We’re Not Blind, You Know…

- Though Kylo Ren (Ben Solo) has Darth Vader’s stature, his facial features are practically opposite to Vader’s creepy mask. This should have foreshadowed that his life should have gone the other way, instead of more or less repeating itself. - As a villain Kylo was often unconvincing; by all logic he should have been a good father figure. (Besides, Star Wars films or series never work unless there is a strong father or father figure at their center.)

- Like Vader, Kylo Ren was redeemed, but not rehabilitated. Who knows who may find his broken mask somewhere now and, not knowing the truth, promise “I will finish what you started”. - The hand-touching scene on Ahch-To which was visually opposite to Anakin’s and Padmé’s should not have predicted another tragedy but a happy ending for them. - The Canto Bight sequence was announcing reckoning for the weapon industry and freedom for the enslaved children. It also showed how well Finn and Rose fit together. - Rey was a good girl before she started on her adventures. Like Anakin or Luke, she did not need to become a Jedi to be strong or generous or heroic. - Rey summons Palpatine after one year of training. Kylo practically begged for his grandfather’s assistance for years, to no avail. Her potential for darkness is obviously much stronger. - Dark Rey’s light sabre looked like a fork, Kylo’s like a cross. - The last time all Jedi and Sith were obliterated leaving only Luke in charge, things went awry. Now we have a Palpatine masquerading as a Skywalker and believing she’s a Jedi. Rey is a usurper and universally cheered after years of war, like her grandfather. - The broom boy of Canto Bight looked like he was sweeping a stage and announcing “Free the stage, it’s time for us, the children.”

Rey failed in all instances where Luke had proved himself (so much for feminism and her being a Mary Sue): - Luke had forgiven his father despite all the pain he had inflicted on him. She stabbed the „bad guy”, who had repeatedly protected and comforted her, to death. - Luke never asked Vader to help the Rebellion or to turn to the Light Side, he only wanted him back as his father. She assumed that you could make Ben Solo turn, give up the First Order and join the Resistance for her. She thought of her friends and of her own validation, not of him. - Luke had made peace by choosing peace. Rey fought until the bitter end. - Luke had thrown his weapon away before Palpatine. Rey picked up a second weapon. (And both of them weren’t even her own.) - Luke had mourned his dead father. Rey didn’t shed a tear for the man she is bonded to by the Force. - Luke went back to his friends to celebrate the new peace with them. Rey went back letting everyone celebrate her like the one who saved the galaxy on her own, she who were tempted to become the new evil ruler of the galaxy and had to rely on the alleged Bad Guy to save both her soul and her body. - Luke had embodied compassion when Palpatine was all about hatred. Where he chose love and faith in his father, she chose violence and fear. - Luke had briefly fallen prey to the Dark Side but it made him realize that he had no right to judge his father. Rey’s fall to the Dark Side did not make her wiser. - Rey has no change of mind on finding out that she’s Palpatine’s flesh and blood, nor after she has stabbed Kylo. Luke had to face himself on learning that he had almost become a patricide. Rey does not have to face herself: the revelation of her ancestry is cushioned by Luke’s and Leia’s support. Rey is and remains an uncompromising person who hardly learns from her faults.

This is cheating on the audience. And it's not due to feminism or Rey being some sort of “Mary Sue” the way many affronted fans claim. Kylo never was truly a villain, Rey is not a heroine, and this is not a happy ending. The Jedi, with their stuck-up conviction “only we must win”, have failed all over again. The Skywalker family was obliterated leaving their worst enemy in charge.  Rey is supposed to be a “modern” heroine which young girls can take as an example? No, thank you. Not after this last film has made of her. Padmé was a much better role model, combining intelligence with strength and goodness and also female grace. The world does not need entitled female brats.

Bonus: What Made The Rise of Skywalker a Farce

- The Force Awakens was an ok film and The Last Jedi (almost) a masterpiece. The Rise of Skywalker was a cartoon. No wonder a lot of the acting felt and looked wooden. - “I will earn your brother’s light sabre.” She’s holding his father’s sabre. - Kylo in The Last Jedi: “Let the past die. Kill it if, you have to.” Beginning with me? - Rey ends up on Tatooine. - The planet both Anakin and Luke ardently wanted to leave. - Luke had promised his nephew that he would be around for him. - Nope. - Rey had told Ben that she had seen his future. What future was that - “you will be a hero for ten minutes, get a kiss and then die? (And they didn’t even get a love theme.) - “The belonging you seek is not behind you, it is ahead.” On a desert planet with a few ghosts. What of the ocean she used to dream about? - Ben and Rey were both introduced as two intensely lonely people searching for belonging. We learn they are a Force dyad, and then they are torn apart again. - Why was Ben named for Obi-Wan Kenobi in the first place, if they have absolutely nothing in common? - The Throne Room battle scene in The Last Jedi was clearly showing that when they are in balance, Light Side and Dark Side are unbeatable. Why did the so-called “Light Side” have to win again, in The Rise of Skywalker, instead of finding balance? - Luke’s scene on Ahch-To was so ridiculously opposite to his attitude in The Last Jedi that by now I believe he was a fantasy conjectured by her. (Like Ben’s vision of his father.) - Anakin’s voice among the other Jedi’s. - He was a renegade, for Force’s sake. - The kiss between two females. - More fan service, to appease those who pretended that not making Poe and Finn a couple was a sign of homophobia. - We see the Knights of Ren, but we learn absolutely nothing about them or Kylo’s connection with them. - Rose Tico’s invalidation. - A shame after what the actress had gone through because for the fans she was “not Star-Wars-y” (chubby and lively instead of wiry and spitfire). - Finn’s and Rose’s relationship. - Ignored without any explanation. - Finn may or may not be Force-sensitive. - If he is: did he abandon the First Order not due to his own free will but because of some higher willpower? Great. - General Hux was simply obliterated. - In The Force Awakens he was an excellent foil to Kylo Ren; no background story, no humanization for him. - Chewie’s and 3PO’s faked deaths. - Useless additional drama. - The Force Awakens was a bow before the classic trilogy. The Rise of Skywalker kicked its remainders to pieces. - The Prequel Trilogy ended with hope, the Original Trilogy with love. The Sequel Trilogy ends on a blank slate. - “We are what they grow beyond.” The characters of the Sequel Trilogy did not grow beyond the heroes of the Original Trilogy. - The Jedi did not learn from their mistakes and were obliterated. The Skywalker family understood the mistakes they had made too late. Now they’re gone, too.

  P.S. While I was watching The Rise of Skywalker my husband came in asked me since when I like Marvel movies. I said “That’s not a Marvel movie, it’s Star Wars.” I guess that says enough.

P.P.S. For the next trilogy, please at least let the movies hit theatres in May again instead of December. a) It’s tradition for Star Wars films, b) Whatever happens, at least you won’t ruin anyone’s Christmases. Thank you.

[loversamongus]

Friends, Fevers, Family Movies

a/n: first one shot for @fromthewatertribe‘s 1k follower event! This turned out to be A LOT longer than I expected and it was also originally for a whole other prompt??? And then just??? Evolved into this??? I knew I wanted to write something that featured a Sokka friendship (and a Katara one!) but also feature good ol’ Zuko fluff. So here ya go. Word vomit. TO CELEBRATE NINA BEING AWESOME.

Also important: written as a world without covid, but does mention the flu. prompt: go to bed, you idiot.

words: 2k

relationship: Zuko x reader

Sharing an apartment with your best friends has its highs and lows. On the bright side, you truly lucked out between the epic prank wars, overly competitive game nights, and the bureaucratic division of chore responsibilities. However, there’s also the constant paranoia that someone can jump out of your closet in a gorilla costume, the frustrated search for the last blue Sorry piece after a certain sore loser flipped over the coffee table, and Katara’s insistence on hand washing all dishware even though the kitchen has a perfectly good dishwasher. The three of you never experience a dull moment.

And you’re so grateful to be living with them. Sokka and Katara are your best friends but now it’s like having a brother and sister of your own. Due to the smaller size of the apartment, you and Katara share a bedroom but neither of you would have it any other way. Though you both have your own corner of the room, you’ll spend hours laying on the gray shag rug in the middle between your beds just talking.

“Today, at the diner, a man had the AUDACITY to call me ‘pretty girl’ and like, yes I am pretty but I don’t need an old coffee-breathed, wrinkly limp noodle to tell me that so I assumed he was just stating the obvious and that I should also call him by obvious nicknames in order to better communicate with and understand the customer, as my manager puts it.”

“And what did you call him?”

“When I came back with their food, he said, ‘Can the pretty girl also get us some mayonnaise packets?’ And I said, ‘Not a problem, ‘crusty man.’”

Katara tried her darnedest to flash you a severe look but couldn’t help choking on a fit of giggles.

“Suki approves of it and we spent the rest of our shift calling each other different names when we crossed paths!”

The rest of the night would linger on with more work day stories, giggles, and Sokka occasionally pounding on the door for you both to shut up already because he is trying to sleep goddamnnit and can’t do that while the apartment is filled with your shrill girlish squeals.

Finally, when you both struggle to fight off sleep, you wave the white flag and drag yourself into bed. But just before you drift off, you hear Katara whisper your name from across the room. You’re not even sure if she’s awake, you’re both so tired, but you answer anyways.

“Hmm?”

“What do you think of Aang?”

“He adores you (yawn) it’s so sweet. I like him for you.”

There’s a silence and you think you’re free to finally fall into your dreams until Katara speaks again.

“What do you think of Zuko?”

“Hmm? I dunno, he’s our (yawn) friend and I like when he brings over (yawn) fireball for game night (yawn) why?”

Your exhaustion overpowers you before you could hear Katara respond, “Because he adores you, it’s so sweet. I like him for you.”

Although also your best friend, living with Sokka feels much less sweet and much more chaotic. Somehow you’re at each other’s throats more so than he is with his own blood related sister. It may have started when the Sock Battle started, a game in which Sokka made it his mission to hide his stenchiest pair of socks somewhere in your stuff. By now, you’ve found his socks in your pillowcases, in textbooks, in your gym bag, and in a picture frame next to your bed. You deliberately retaliate in any way you can during game night. While these instances often have you second guessing your friendship with him, you and Sokka could both put the bickering aside with a Disney movie and a bucket of buttered popcorn.

You could have killed him though when he gave you the flu. Katara was spared thanks to her daily regimen of vitamins and obsession with cleanliness, and Sokka had even recovered rather quickly. But you were not as lucky. Even though it was only the beginning of October, you had Katara dig out your flannel holiday pajamas to warm you up from the chills. The darling that she is, Katara made you her famous homemade soup and set it by your bedside table before heading out to see Aang. In the meantime, it was time for payback.

“Sokka, I need you to refill my water bottle.”

“Do it yourself.”

“Fine and when I get over to the kitchen I’ll lick every bag of beef jerky you own.”

“Oh my god, fine. Give me your water bottle.”

“Sokka, I need to charge my phone. Give me your charger.”

“No? Yours in your room, go get it.”

“If only my legs weren’t so weak from this terrible flu I’ve contracted from someone I trusted to be more hygienic.”

“Here, take it.”

“Sokka, you need to light a candle in the bathroom. Ooh do the rose petal one.”

“Ugh, no. You know I hate yours and Katara’s girly scented candles.”

“Okay, but then don’t complain about the smell when you go in.”

“It can’t be that bad— OH MY GOD DID SOMETHING CRAWL OUT OF YOU AND DIE?! OH MY GOD IT’S TRAVELLING. IT’S TRAVELLING THROUGH THE APARTMENT.”

By the fourth day of having the flu, Sokka was sick. Not of the flu. Of you. Katara had been spending as much time with Aang as she could to avoid catching anything from you so the responsibility of taking care of you fell on Sokka. And he was finally reaching the breaking point after you left used tissues all over “his side” of the couch. You snuggled into your pile of blankets as you watched your best friend grumble about the living room, every so often glancing at you while muttering incoherently.

After picking up the last of your snot filled, flu infected tissues, Sokka stood in front of you and took a long, exaggerated breath.

“I am leaving this Land of Disgusting to eat at the diner before driving Suki home.”

“Sokka, you had me at ‘I am leaving.’”

“Shut up. You still have a fever so I’ve called in reinforcements to look after you while Katara and I are both out. They’ll be here shortly after I’m gone. Can you handle yourself for 10 minutes?”

“Aye aye, captain.”

Before leaving, Sokka grabbed one more blanket from your room to bring to you on the couch. You realize how lucky you are to be such a pain in the ass and still be so loved by your little family. These happy thoughts, along with the utter amusement over the possibility of Toph being the one taking care of you, lulled you into a short, soft nap.

When you open your eyes next, the living room is dark, save for the small lamp in the corner of the room. As you go to stretch out your legs on the couch, your feet kick into something that wasn’t there before.

“Sokka?” you ask wearily, assuming your friend is back from dropping Suki off home.

“Nope.”

It wasn’t Sokka’s voice. Nor was it Toph’s. Trying your best to sit up under the weight of five blankets, you turn your head to see Zuko’s face illuminated by his phone’s screen as his thumb continued to scroll.

“Oh. Hi.”

He looked over at you. “Hey. Can I get you anything?”

It takes you a moment to get over the fact that Zuko is the reinforcements, the one called to take care of you while your roommates are out of the apartment. But finally you respond, “Actually, my throat is really dry. Can you grab my water bottle for me?”

He reached over to the coffee table to grab your water bottle for you. Then, after handing it you, Zuko went back to looking at his phone.

“Katara says you have to take your medicine once you’ve woken up.”

“Ugh noooooo. I don’t want to.”

Taking pills has never been your been your strong suit. Maybe it’s your irrational fear of choking on them or just your innate ability to be stubborn about everything but you try to put up your best fight.

“You have to. Or else we’ll have to cancel another game night or you just won’t be able to play with us. And then who would kill Sokka first in Among Us.”

“You’ll have to continue my legacy, that’s all.”

“Just take the pills. I already cut them up for you.”

“Fine... thank you.”

After you swallow the last pill, you lay back down on the couch but Zuko gets up.

“Where are you going?”

“Since you’re up now, let’s watch a movie. There’s nothing else you should really be doing in your condition.”

“I have my DVDs on my shelf in my room. Pick me a Disney movie?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh my god, please? I am very sick and frail and only the nostalgic joys of my childhood can cure me.”

“....fine.”

You muster up a squeal that quickly turns into a cough as Zuko leaves the room. After a few minutes he comes back with Toy Story 2, a choice that makes you raise an eyebrow considering its heartbreaking song is not something you’d expect Zuko to want to watch. Nonetheless, you hardly protest as the two of you settle in on the couch for the movie to begin.

To your surprise, the animated movie managed to steal a couple chuckles from Zuko. After all the bickering throughout the week with Sokka, it was a welcome and pleasant sound ringing in your ears. Despite your better judgment, you shift closer to him, especially when you know Jessie’s big song is getting closer. He doesn’t move away though and even wraps an arm around you. When a chill runs down your spine, you wonder if it’s due to the fever.

“Are you crying?”

“It’s just SO sad, how could you not, Zuko?! Somebody needs to LOVE HER AGAIN.”

Grinning, he hands you the tissue box, which you fully accept both for your tears and flu-inflicted runny nose. But once the song ends and you’ve let out a good cry, your eyelids start to feel enormously heavy. Zuko must sense this because he scoots a bit closer to you, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder. You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to pass the flu onto Zuko, but for some reason he feels warmer than the mountains of blankets you’re buried under.

The rest of the movie plays on and you struggle to keep your eyes open, often shifting against Zuko to wake yourself back up. You know there’s more to the movie but Zuko picks up the remote and turns off the tv. Before you could even question what he’s doing, he’s lifting you up and walking you to your room.

“But we didn’t see the end of the movie!”

“You weren’t going to stay up to see the end anyways.”

“But you needed to see Jessie and Bullseye find new homes! With Andy! And Wheezy!! Wheezy gets fixed!!”

He helped you under the covers and sat beside you on your bed for a moment. You still feel enough energy to offer up a few more protests.

“Only the end of the movie can cure me with its pure, unadultered childhood joy! You can use some, too! Disney fixes all things!”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, but before getting up, Zuko leaned in to kiss your forehead lightly.

“Go to bed, you idiot.”

You didn’t even register when he left your side because you were asleep again within minutes. In fact, when the sunlight from the bedroom window wakes you up hours later, you could have sworn it was all just a fever dream anyways. Disney movies cuddled up with Zuko? Definitely sounds fake. However, later on in the morning, you do begin to suspect it was all real when you find your Toy Story 2 DVD still in DVD player and catching Katara and Sokka trying to discreetly give each other a high five.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Howard Dean's racist, genocidal pharma sellout

Remember Howard Dean, the progressive champion who campaigned on equitable health care and other desperately needed policies?

He's dead.

He's been replaced by Howard Dean, the not-a-lobbyist who won't tell anyone what he does for the giant lobbying firm Dentons.

The old Howard Dean supported single-payer healthcare. The new Dean opposes it.

But then, that new Dean works for Dentons, the largest law firm in the world, alongside Newt Gingrich, as a "senior advisor" to the firm's lobbying arm.

https://theintercept.com/2016/01/14/howard-dean-lobbyist/

Dentons lobbies for pretty unsavory characters, including Big Health. Dentons owes its world-beating scale to a 2015 merger with the massive Chinese law-firm Dacheng, which gave it access to the vast fortunes spent by Chinese state-owned industries to lobby the US government.

Last month, the new Howard Dean published a remarkable op-ed in Barron's, opposing any measure to permit the world's poorest countries to manufacture generic versions of the covid vaccines they desperately need.

https://www.barrons.com/articles/india-wants-to-copy-american-vaccines-biden-shouldnt-fall-for-it-51615511350

The arguments Dean fields for this are tired, racist, and manifestly untrue arguments, straight out of Big Pharma's playbook:

I. Poor countries can't make vaccines (reality: poor countries are already among the world's largest pharmaceutical manufacturers) and;

II.  No one will invest in pharma if poor people don't have to pay extortionate royalties in exchange for their lives (reality: pharma doesn't invest in pharma! The pharmaceutical industry is entirely and totally dependent on public R&D spending).

As Lee Fang writes in The Intercept, there's an explanation for this surprising change of heart: "[Dean] reversed his positions on virtually every major progressive health policy issue since moving to work in the world of corporate influence peddling."

https://theintercept.com/2021/04/08/howard-dean-biden-covid-vaccines/

Dean insists he's not a lobbyist, but he sure acts like one, trading on his reputation as a "liberal lion" to sell policies to benefit pharma at the expense of the public - like his work with BIO to secure exclusivity for breast-cancer treatments.

https://theintercept.com/2016/01/21/howard-dean-despite-denials-has-long-sad-history-of-selling-himself-on-k-street/

This would all be appalling on its own terms - a medical doctor who convinced progressives (including me) to volunteer for his presidential bid, selling out to corporate health-care profiteers, but when it comes to vaccines, this goes beyond selling out. It's genocidal.

As things stand, 85 of the poorest countries will not have widespread vaccine access until 2023. That's not just a death sentence for the Global South - it's also a chance for the new mutant strains to develop and endanger the whole human race.

https://www.eiu.com/n/85-poor-countries-will-not-have-access-to-coronavirus-vaccines/

The racist lie that brown people can't manufacture their own vaccines is being peddled to maximize profits for some of the cruellest, most profitable, most publicly subsidized companies on Earth - and it's not merely unfair, it's an existential threat to human civilization.

As Steven W Thrasher writes in Scientific American, the entire vaccine passport debate is a bullshit distraction from the real issue: getting vaccines to every person who can safely take them, in every country on Earth.

https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/global-vaccine-equity-is-much-more-important-than-vaccine-passports/

As Thrasher writes, today, borders are being used to decide who can get a vaccine. Tomorrow, vaccine passports would punish those unvaccinated people by denying them the right to cross borders. Vaccine equity is the only just vaccine passport.

"It is morally reprehensible (not to mention epidemiologically self-defeating) that countries can prevent vaccines from crossing their borders and want their own citizens to be able to cross those borders and travel to countries that are denied vaccines -- and then use the threat of infection to keep the people of those unvaccinated countries inside them...A vaccine passport conflates the notions of biology, nationalism and surveillance; it builds on and passively accepts the ethics of passport privilege in general."

Thrasher cites "Covid-19 vaccine passports will harm sustainable development," in The British Medical Journal, adding, "The idea that one 'needs' to go on vacation or attend an academic conference abroad at this point in the pandemic is morally unjustifiable. This is especially true if you are traveling to or from a place where you know others do not have access to vaccines—and you want a special piece of paper proving that you do, which would allow you to cross the border."

https://blogs.bmj.com/bmj/2021/03/30/covid-19-vaccine-passports-will-harm-sustainable-development/

This is the kind of thing you'd expect Dr Howard Dean, the progressive lion who championed single-payer and curbs on drug prices, to write. But he's not. Instead, he's peddling racism and profiteering to serve his corporate paymasters.

RIP, Dr Dean. You sold your legacy - and our future - for a mess of potage.

Image: David (modified): https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Howard_Dean_(44658398).jpg

CC BY: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

[strayingdawn]

Can I request a felix one where they go to a small shop to buy snacks at midnight and get in a tiny bit of trouble with the store owner by accident?

Of course! And sorry this took so long, I hope you like it! :) (I didn’t mean for it to get this long...oops. Sorry about that) >and feedback from anyone is always appreciated uwu

wc: 1,8k

——————————————————————————

“Are you crying?” Felix asked you with slight amusement in his eyes as he lifted one eyebrow.

“What?! Why would I be cr-” A startling hiccup interrupted your sentence. “... Okay, maybe I teared up a little.” No one would believe your failed attempt at denial if they could see you, and Felix had a front-row seat. Your red-rimmed eyes slightly stung as more salty streams of tears flowed down your face. The image was quite pitiful without context. However, in this scenario, Felix couldn’t help but let a few giggles escape him.

You and Felix had been trying to schedule a night to spend together for weeks, maybe even months at this point. Whenever you both thought you had finally set a date, one of your teachers would rip it from your fingertips and replace it with a new project or test to study for. Sure, you could have study dates, but you both know that your heightened crackhead energy when together and deliriousness induced by deadlines would not mix well. In short, you would both fail. And if you weren’t both drowning in assignments, either you would have a club meeting or Felix would have a swim meet.

However, finally, the odds were in your favor. After many tiring weeks of missing each other's warmth, smiles, and comfort, you both found a clear weekend.

So, tonight, you’re in your bedroom, surrounded by many blankets you didn’t even know you owned inside the elaborate fort you and Felix managed to somehow build. Of course, the first attempt failed after you “accidentally” passed a pillow to Felix while he wasn’t looking which resulted in a pillow fight, and Felix cheating by tickling you. Obviously, you still won, but that’s not important. You finally finished your fort after cleaning up the pillows and blankets that were scattered everywhere (including the pillow that somehow ended up on a curtain rod) and prepared Disney+ for your movie marathon while Felix got snacks downstairs.

Now, the reason why you’re crying right now. You and Felix were well aware that as long as you were involved, it wasn’t truly a Disney+ movie marathon if Hamilton was not played at least once throughout the night. And Felix is always willing to tolerate your addiction to the music and action that is Hamilton. However, with the number of times you’ve already watched it, which has surely exceeded fifty, he didn’t think you would still have the ability to cry by the final curtain call. Clearly, he was mistaken.

“Haven’t you seen this like fifty times?” he questioned with skepticism in his voice and some confusion painted on his face, especially since you usually remained neutral through any movie, despite the occasional teary eyes.

“Who cares! It’s heartbreaking seeing his monologue before death, Burr’s guilt, and then Eliza goes on to tell his story and the stories of others,” more sobs break through the air as you recall the final scenes. Sure, you could admit you were being a little dramatic, but how could anyone not find someone’s death and unfinished legacy depressing. “Wait...did we run out of snacks?”

But of course, food is some of the best medicine for sadness, and easily snaps you out of your misery.

“Huh, I guess so…”

“Well, what do you want to watch next? I can set it up while you get more.”

“About that...those were all the snacks you had…”

“What! What do you mean that’s all I had? It wasn’t even that much!” You knew you went through lots of snacks this past week while you studied since you usually pushed eating an actual meal to the side, prioritizing your work. But you didn’t know you basically cleared out the kitchen.

“Well, what are you yelling at me for? I’m not the one who runs on four hours of sleep a night and depends on candy and coffee to make up for it.”

“Okay, now's not the time point to point out my poor life choices.” You paused for a second, trying to think of a solution for your dilemma. “Well, what are we supposed to do now? It’s,” you glanced at your bedside clock, “12:00 am.”

“We could go to that little shop down the street” Felix suggested, but you weren’t sure you should go anywhere this late at night, especially in your current state, even though the idea of food was pretty persuading.

“I don’t know..should we be going out this late?” You were all for adventures, and you considered your neighborhood to be pretty safe, but your warm fort and stuffed animals tempted you to stay. Felix noticed your hesitation.

“Come on. It’s not like we’ve never gone out for a late-night snack before...plus, we can get creamsicles,” he said, nudging your shoulders, knowing you couldn’t deny your favorite ice cream. Curse Felix and the way he knows you like the back of his hand.

You sighed, also knowing he had you hooked. “Fine,” you huffed. “Let’s go.” You stood up and held out your hand, which he gladly grasped onto as he rose to his feet as well.

“Wow, you’ll really do anything for creamsicles,” Felix teased with a slight smirk that you could see in your peripheral vision.

“Oh shut up, you act like we’re going on some death-defying journey,” you roll your eyes at Felix’s attempt to provoke you. He simply shrugged his shoulders and chuckled a little.

As soon as you stepped out of your front door, you felt the gentle breeze envelope you. It wasn’t too cold nor was it too warm; it was slightly cool and simply refreshing. The soft wind pushed your hoodie and sweatpants into your body like a hug and blew your hair out of your face giving you a clear view of the night sky. The stars twinkled like glitter on a black piece of paper. You felt connected with everything as you inhaled a deep breath. You started to get lost in your surroundings until Felix’s slight tug on your arm brought you back to reality.

“Oh, sorry. I forgot how much I enjoy nights like these.” You had a relaxed smile on your face, as you admired the stars and the shapes they created while walking beside him.

Felix simply hummed, submitting the earlier, breathtaking image of you at such peace into his memory. “It’s fine. It does feel really nice out here. Aren’t you glad I convinced you to come?” He asked in a rather teasing tone.

“Yeah, yeah. Ya did good.” You rolled your eyes while letting out a chuckle. Felix followed with some of his famous giggles.

The rest of the small, five-minute walk was filled with little jokes and clowning each other if the other one tripped or stumbled. Before you knew it you were already walking into the little shop, and the woman, who you assumed was the owner since you’ve seen them at the shop in passing many times when the shop was closed, greeted you both, fairly friendly despite this late hour.

You and Felix separated once he suggested you could split up, considering you both knew each other’s likes and dislikes fairly well. You wandered across the beige floor tiles towards the chip aisle, while the drinks caught Felix’s attention.

After choosing seven bags of different chips, for variety of course, you noticed a certain stand-alone display across from you. It held quite the selection of little cake snacks. It seemed new which piqued your interest, so you decided to search for something that might suit your taste. Apparently, you must have been so focused on the baked goods that you didn’t even hear Felix’s steps coming toward you. Felix also noticed your diverted attention.

“Boo!”

Now, those who knew you well also knew your tendencies to be dramatic, especially when startled. So Felix’s sudden exclamation had you springing forward, arms flailing...right into the display. The whole snack arrangement wasn’t even that big, shorter than you, but it still managed to make a great boom and fading rumble as the impact sent waves of vibrations through the metal and some cakes went flying in different directions.

At first, you were frozen in complete shock, staring at the disaster in front of you. Until you caught a glimpse of the freckled boy who was now beside you, also surprised by your reaction.

“Felix!” You whisper-shouted in an accusing tone, even though the clear, loud crash surely already caught the store owner’s attention.

“What do you mean ‘Felix’? You’re the one who knocked it over!”

“And you’re the one who scared me which made me knock it over!”

“Well I didn’t know you were almost worse than Hyunjin and his dramatics!”

You let out an exasperated and somewhat panicked sigh. “Well, what do we-”

“Oh my goodness!” Oh no. You wouldn’t have to think about your question for too long, as the owner would surely give a solution. Whether that was good or bad, you didn’t know yet.

“Wh- I-I am s-so sorry! I was startled, a-and accidentally knocked it over! I promise it was an accident-” you fumbled for the right words to say, hoping the store owner would have mercy on you.

“Um...it’s fine..accidents do happen. However, you’ll have to pay for this mess you’ve created one way or another.” She still wore a calm, sweet smile that eased your worries.

“O-of course! We will gladly clean this mess for you.”

Felix noticed your specific choice of pronouns. “We?” You only jabbed Felix’s side with your elbow and confirmed what you said under your breath. As Felix attempted to reason with you, the store owner grabbed a garbage bin for the few treats that didn’t take the fall as well as others.

Forty-five minutes and a whining Felix later, the display was basically back to its original state, minus a few snacks. Thankfully, the owner didn’t immediately kick you out after your work was done and continued to assure you that the two of you were still welcome anytime. So, you both walked out with bags full of drinks and food to last you a week full of movie marathons, unless you get flooded with work and revert to old habits, of course.

“I still can’t believe you dragged me into your mess,” Felix commented, still seeming a little salty about being forced, by you, to clean up the little cakes crushed by the display. However, you knew his frown was only a disguise, so he could give you a hard time. Felix would have helped even if you had begged him not to. He might laugh at your misery first but would still lend a hand nevertheless.

“Oh, it wasn’t that bad. Besides, it was worth it,” you held up the bag you were holding full of ice cream. A smile slowly appeared on your face as you remembered Felix’s words from earlier. Felix seemed to catch on quickly, so you both spoke your thoughts aloud.

“Anything for creamsicles.”

[highly-flammable]

Reacting to Legacies 3x03 (SPOILERS):

1. So ARE we FINALLY getting to some proper firstborn Mikaelson witch breakdowns?

2. Oh well, apparently no. They'll just try to wave it off as some one time thing probably.

3. So Hope and Landon are on a break. Okay. TBH watching them sass each other is interesting.

4. The guidance counselor is pretty much a compulsion monster, is that it? Well, I do like his wardrobe.

5. Alyssa's concern for MG is so fake I can't.

6. Nobody other than Jed read for Stefan? THE DISRESPECT.

7. Lizzie playing Caroline makes total sense but them asking Josie to play the lead without even an audition looks a bit bad TBH. Like, give the other interested people a chance, at least.

8. I find it a bit repetitive how there are mind-controlling monsters popping out again and again.

9. So MG is basically going through a phase similar to what Cami was going through when Klaus used to compel her at the beginning of TO. Considering Quincy's fondness for Cami, he must have liked playing that.

10. I understand that Landon is supposed to be a capable songwriter in-universe but it takes more than that to write and direct a musical and it's very weird that they didn't even find a guest star to pose as a Drama or English teacher who is guiding him or something. WHERE ARE ALL THE TEACHERS?

11. I kinda feel like some of the lead characters in this show are colour-coded. I see Hope and Landon in red and blue a lot (the two gowns we have seen Hope wearing also fall into this pattern) and Josie wears yellow in like, every other episode. If I recall correctly, Lizzie wears a lot of white, too. I wonder what the reasoning behind these choices are.

12. Well, I liked Hope and Landon's relationship in S1, I have no idea what was going on with it in S2, and I still don't know what to think about it.

13. Lizzie casts herself in Caroline's role and then chokes at rehearsal. Not totally unrealistic but still feels a bit forced to me. Would have been better if Landon cast her because she's Caroline's daughter and Lizzie was a bit apprehensive in the first place because she didn't want to mess up the role.

14. I appreciate the show taking a moment to talk about Lizzie's bipolar disorder though. It's been a while.

15. "Bonnie just disappears for long periods of time"? Dude, she's still super important and you're putting her in the play. Right? RIGHT?!

16. Landon, THANK YOU for pointing out how weird Caroline and Alaric's relationship was. The guy deadass got engaged to her and had a pissing contest over her with Stefan, that will never not gross me out.

17. So the monster is mind controlling Landon to put Klaus into the play. Saw this coming IG.

18. Hope is painting again, like her dad used to do when he felt things were going out of control. I've been rewatching TO and this is making me so emotional. I MISS KLAUS AND HIS SHENANIGANS. And not a single character on Legacies comes close to Klaus, Elijah and Hayley for me. (Sorry if this hurts anyone's feelings but Legacies really is a downgrade from TVD and TO)

19. Ugh, why would he use the contents of the letter as lyrics? Dude, is it because you're mind-controlled? No, I don't like this. Klaus loved Hope to the ends of the earth and wanted everyone to know but Hope wants to keep things private, and her wishes should have been respected.

20. So apparently Landon tries not to put Klaus' villainous antics into the show. Well, okay, it's definitely a copout but since he is Hope's boyfriend, makes sense. But I don't understand why the musical HAS TO BE about the Salvatore school. The accreditation excuse is lazy, writers! Also, Landon, my dude, Klaus was a major donor of the school. Put that in instead of the other things, stop pissing off your girlfriend FFS. Even if you're mind-controlled 🤦🏻‍♀️

21. I do find it funny how Landon is all gaga over Klaus' use of language though. The guy really did have the best lines, didn't he? (Tied with Elijah, I suppose, for me)

22. The other singers of the first song are really good so Kaylee sounds a bit rusty in comparison. Also, she reminds me too much of Dark!Josie with the hair and makeup. From a distance, she can be mistaken for Nina though.

23. I love that the backstage activities are being shown.

24. I'm digging Jed as Stefan and I really like his singing voice. And the Hero Hair wig cracked me up. Kaleb is obviously good at singing at it's nice to hear more from him. I also like how Chris Lee didn't try to exactly emulate Ian and played Damon how someone who has only heard about him might play him.

25. Is Hope painting herself before the pit or something? Or is this supposed to symbolize her despair at her parents' loss? ALSO, I WANT SOMEONE TO MENTION HAYLEY :( Why is Hayley so ignored?!

26. The same person probably wrote MG's notes and Caroline's letter IRL and therefore, in-universe, MG has Caroline's handwriting and it's funny to me.

27. Jenny sings well, I like it. I don't understand the song though, was Caroline actually ever feeling this insecure? I feel like the song became a lot more about Lizzie than her mother. (It's been forever since I watched TVD, if anyone has yet to guess, I prefer watching TO)

28. The doppelganger thing cracked me up.

29. Wait why did the monster attack Josie?! Ohhhh he's forcing Landon to improvise and put Klaus' song at the end. Well, I guess it makes it seem a bit less like Landon's fault. But would Hope know that?

30. It's hilarious how they lowkey make a call back to Nina leaving TVD and them having to put Elena in a sleep spell though.

31. Landon having a hissy fit is funny to me. Aria needs more comedic scenes.

32. Wait, where did Jade come from? Has she been in the school all these weeks?

33. While the scene seems a bit shabby to me, Klaus talking to Hope reminds me of their scene from TO 4X03. I needed more of Summer Fontana and Joseph Morgan together. Also, the donation did get mentioned, YASSSS. Man did some horrific things but he did fund the school so maybe a little less badmouthing in the presence of his daughter now that you know the story, eh, students?

34. The fact that the guidance counselor actually wore a leather jacket and a henley is cracking me up. It's really bizarre.

35. "Terrible painter" XD Klaus would have eaten you for saying that if he were alive.

36. Um, Hope, wouldn't you ask your family if you are doing enough to make your father proud, instead of this random bloke who supposedly met him once?! Maybe call Freya or Rebekah.

37. Why is this monster being nice to Hope? Doesn't it try to break people up or something? You'd think he'd try to piss her off even more and ruin her relationship with Landon.

38. Stefan was trying to be more like Damon by sacrificing himself? Um, what?

39. Well, this musical at least gave Stefan and Caroline a goodbye scene. I wonder how much the twins remember Stefan, must have been a bit emotional for Lizzie to play that. Jenny's singing was gooood, really liked it.

40. JED WAS GONNA KISS LIZZIE AND I WANTED IT TO HAPPEN. But a forehead kiss does work.

41. Hope's playing Elena now? What?

42. Ngl I want Hope and Jed to be friends. She needs more of a connection to her wolf side. Both of her parents wanted her to be surrounded by wolves and she's barely interacting with the wolves in this show, which always makes me sad.

43. So this monster can also do little spells and move physical objects eh? Whatever, this is random.

44. And this monster brings people back together? Why?

45. So when Hope is singing, is she doing it as Elena or Hope? She came on stage as Elena, but I thought the song is about Hope. So WHAT IS IT?

46. Oh Damon's on stage, so Hope is singing as Elena and it's a call back to the graveyard scene from the TVD finale.

47. Danielle sings pretty well. It's good she decided to perform this time.

48. Okay, that lifting up scene was adorable. I feel like Hope and Landon are at their cutest when they're a bit spontaneous. But she's Elena on stage and it lowkey looks like Landon crashed her romantic scene with Damon to kiss her so I'm cackling.

49. How much older is Jade supposed to be than Josie?

50. So is Josie going to leave the school for a while and that's why Ethan will be back in the picture?

51. Jade used to babysit Josie? Okay, it is hella awkward.

52. Josie why, don't do this, yikes. Kissing her once doesn't make it non-creepy.

53. The Sheriff feels kinda shoehorned to me. Also, I don't care for Matt Davis or his character.

54. So Candice did the voiceover for Caroline's letter. That's nice for the show. I still don't understand why the letter showed up in Hope's fireplace though LOL.

55. This episode should have spent more time exploring the aftermath of the loss of Rafael. The abrupt shift from the last episode wasn't nice.

56. Yeah, kids, talk out your problems, thanks.

57. I feel like Klaus is too much of a controversial figure that Hope's conflict about her father's reputation would be resolved in one day. This is feeling undercooked. Speaking of, when is one of Klaus' or Hayley's enemies coming after Hope, because she did inherit all of them. Would make for better storytelling than this monster of the week nonsense. And yeah, still no mention of Hayley, I hate this.

58. The monster's characterization was really odd to me and I am so tired of this format SMH.

59. So they toyed with MG for weeks to get a vampire for the spell? That sounds like too much effort. There are tons of vampires from Klaus and Rebekah's bloodline, they couldn't find another? Also, I wonder who is the wolf that they will use.

Well, I felt like this episode was mostly okay, but not that well-cooked or epic or whatever. What is horrific is that they didn't show Bonnie, though. They could have at least gotten a female black guest character who is one of the witch students or something. This is very offensive.

Also, I don't think it makes sense for the show to do any more musicals in the future. This ain't Riverdale.

[merakiaes]

Claim Me - Oscar “Spooky” Diaz

Pairing: Oscar “Spooky” Diaz x reader

Requested: Yes. 

Prompts: None. 

Warnings/notes: Not proofread so I apologize in advance for any possible mistakes. Let me know what you think and please send in more requests xx

Wordcount: 2460

Summary: Spooky has a crush on you and comes clean about it by claiming you in front of everyone when another Santo tries to get with you and he gets jealous.

The day of Spooky’s annual end of the summer party had come and the backyard of the Diaz residence was bustling with mingling people. 

Most of them except Mario and a few other exceptions were Santos and their rucas, and you were sure you had seen Cesar and his friends lurking around behind the fence a while ago too.

You were neither a Santo nor one of their rucas, but having been Spooky’s best friend since you were mere children made you an honoree guest to pretty much every get-together he hosted.

On any other day, you weren’t a very big party-person. You couldn’t hold your alcohol even if you tried and more often than not ended up either getting nauseous and going home early or passing out before the night was even close to being over.

But tonight… tonight you were looking forward to letting your hair down and having some fun. More specifically, you were looking forward to getting some action after the guy you had been seeing for the past three weeks had ran away screaming two days prior courtesy of your over-protective best friend.

No matter how good-mannered and respected the guys you would be seeing were, Oscar would always scare them away in some way or another. 

Most times you didn’t even know what he told them seeing as he always pounced on them when you weren’t present, and when you would ask, neither them nor him would say.

The guys would only tell you they weren’t ready for something serious right now or that they needed some time to figure themselves out and that they promised to call, but shocker, they never did. And Oscar… Oscar wouldn’t tell you shit, only smirk and shrug.

To a start, you only figured it was because he was being an overly protective best friend and that he didn’t want to see you get hurt by falling in love with the wrong person. But when he started putting his nose into your one night stands too, where no feelings whatsoever were involved, you had started to get suspicious.

Either way, it was getting tiring not to get what you wanted because he was being an ass and kept getting in the way, and you were adamant on not leaving alone tonight.

Mario hadn’t wasted any time in making a move on you at the start of the night, and his game was strong. He was charming, good-looking and you had known him for a long time so you knew he would be good to you.

But even though you were only looking for a no-strings-attached fuck for the night, he had just gotten dumped by Angelica and you weren’t about to be his rebound. He needed to sort himself out.

Luckily, he got the hint pretty quickly and left to call Angelica, again, leaving you open for everyone else. And it hadn’t taken long for someone to slide in beside you where you were sitting in one of the sofas.

Carlos was a relatively new Santo, having been jumped in only a few weeks ago. He was Sad Eyes’ cousin so he hadn’t had to do much to prove himself, basically being a Santos legacy.

He was a year older than you but he was shy, not even close to being as brave as Spooky, Mario and his cousin when it came to women. However, alcohol seemed to change that completely as he had been shamelessly flirting with you for the past twenty minutes.

And you were enjoying it, even though you briefly found yourself thinking there was someone you would rather be in his spot. 

It was an all too familiar and often reoccurring thought and just like every other time it entered your head, you forced it to the back of your mind and locked it away, focusing on the man sitting in front of you.

“Man, why you gotta look so fine all the time, (Y/N)? I can barely keep my hands to myself over here.” Carlos flirted, his arm resting on the back of the sofa behind you.

You returned his flirty behavior with a smirk, raising an eyebrow. “Who says you have to?” You questioned, touching the collar of his green and black flannel and leaning closer to his face. “You can touch me all you want.”

He bit down on his lip, and you watched as his eyes traveled from your eyes and down to your lips. “And risk getting beat up by Spooky?” He chuckled. “That’s a dangerous game to play, mami.”

Raising an eyebrow, your smirk widened. “You’re a Santo.” You purred. “You shouldn’t be scared of taking a little risk.”

He hummed, leaning even closer, his eyes still flickering back and forth between your eyes and lips. “You make a good point.” He answered, smirking, and finally began leaning in.

You wasted no time in following his example, tilting your head upwards to hurry the process up, but just as your lips were about to meet, there was a tug on the back of his shirt, and just like that he was gone again.

Your glare instantly found Oscar who was now standing behind him, but he didn’t even look at you, glaring down at Carlos who was now looking like he was about to piss himself.

“You, get out of my sight.” Oscar ordered him, and after sparing you one final glance, Carlos stood up and walked off to where his cousin was chilling at the other side of the backyard, leaving only you and Oscar.

The latter was now looking right at you with a distasteful look in his eyes and nodded his head to a more secluded corner, away from all the other people. “You, over there. Now.”

You rolled your eyes at his bossy tone, but he left no time for you to argue, already starting to walk away from you with a cigarette hanging from his lips. You stood up begrudgingly and followed behind him, watching bitterly as he leaned his head down to light his cigarette.

The two of you came to a stop in the corner he had pointed out and he instantly turned to you, staring you down. “You ain’t no zorra, better stop making it seem like you are before you start something you can’t finish.”

He took a drag of the cigarette and you raised an unimpressed eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning back against the fence behind you.

“What, you gonna stop me from getting laid now, too?” You asked, clicking your tongue. “Talk about coitus interruptus.”

He raised an eyebrow to match your own, looking awfully amused. “Am I supposed to know what that means?”

You snorted through your nose, narrowing your eyes at him. “It’s a fancy word for cockblocker, estúpido.” You said, but could feel the corners of your lips twitching. “I thought you were supposed to be smart, Mr. Straight-A-Honor-Roll-Student.”

He gave you a playful smile, taking another drag of the cigarette and you watched as he breathed out a thick cloud of smoke, and kicked yourself off the wall in order to walk closer to him. He watched out of the corner of his eye as you leaned on the wall beside him and smirked up at him.

“So are you going to tell me why you’ve been so adamant on not letting me get lucky lately? Because it’s starting to get on my nerves.” You admitted, clicking your tongue again.

Oscar suddenly turned tense, turning his head to the side to avoid your gaze, which only made your suspicions grow.

“I’m just looking out for you.” He answered shortly, shrugging his shoulders and taking a particularly large drag of the cigarette, fiddling with the white stick of tobacco, something you knew that he did when he on the rare occasion felt nervous or anxious about something.

You weren’t stupid. You could take a hint and you could also read him like an open book. You saw right through his bullshit, but you kept pretending to be clueless, crossing your arms over your chest and smirking at him.

“I hardly see how it could be harmful for me to get my needs satisfied.” You hummed, teasing him. “You be fucking hynas every day and you’re as healthy as ever. How is it any different for me?”

“I haven’t been with no hyna for months.” He answered awfully quickly, and you couldn’t deny that this revelation shocked you.

For as long as you had known him he had always gotten around, so to say you were confused as to why that had changed was an understatement.

“Really?” You questioned, narrowing your eyes. “Why?”

You knew why, of course, but at the same time you were confused why he was suddenly going to such extreme extents when he hadn’t before.

“I’ve got more important shit to deal with.” He said, rolling his lips.

This caused you to snort. “What’s ever been more important than getting your dick sucked for you cholos?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

When he didn’t answer, you pushed yourself off the wall and reached your hand out for his cigarette just as he was about to take another drag. He watched with a sour expression as you took it from between his fingers and tossed it to the ground, putting it out with the heel of your shoe.

You then took his chin in your hand and forced him to look at you, taking in the way his adam’s apple bobbled when he came face to face with your mocking smirk.

You raised an eyebrow and held his chin in place. “Why don’t you cut the shit and tell me why you’re really not wanting me to get with anyone?”

He glared down at you, obviously not very happy with the games you were playing and spoke bitterly. “It sounds like you already know.”

Putting on a feign clueless look, you dropped his chin and threw your arms out. “I don’t, that’s why I’m asking.” You said innocently. “Why do you insist on cockblocking me every day?”

“You gonna make me say it?” He asked, eyes narrowed into slits by now. But he wasn’t angry, you knew. He was just uncomfortable as shit from being put on the spot like this, and you were having too much fun with it.

Rather than answering his question you simply raised your eyebrows as to challenge him, and after closing his eyes and taking a long, annoyed breath through his nose, the words finally left his lips.

“Because I love you, that’s why.” He spoke through his teeth, opening his eyes to look at you again. “And I don’t want you being with no other fool.”

Ah, there it was, what you had suspected for a long time now but not been sure enough about to make the first move.

Your smirk fell from your face, your lips instead pulling into a sincere smile. “You love me?” You asked. 

But even though you had now turned sincere, a playful hint of teasing still remained in your voice, which only made his glare harden.

“I ain’t repeating myself.” He told you stubbornly, clenching his fists at his sides; another sign of how uncomfortable he was. “This is where you’re supposed to tell me you love me too, or some shit.”

You grinned up at him, nodding. “I could do that, but I’m having so much fun watching you squirm.” He turned his head to the side with a scoff and you aww:ed. “Aw, are you blushing, Oscar?”

He kissed his teeth and shook his head. But he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He was indeed blushing, his neck and ears taking a red tint as a result of your merciless torture. 

He chuckled, pulling his hand over his mouth and chin, muttering under his breath. “Pendeja.”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning against the wall again. “Is that any way to talk to your girl?”

At the sound of your words, he turned back to look at you, a smirk now growing on his face. “My girl, huh?” He questioned, and you smiled, moving forward.

“I’ve always been your girl, Diaz.” You confessed, taking a hold of the collar of his plaid shirt and straightening it out before looking up to meet his gaze through your eyelashes. “I’ve just been waiting for you to grow a pair and step up and claim me.”

You shrugged, a small teasing smile playing at your lips. “But you know, you better hurry your ass up if you want to claim me before Carlos does. He seemed to like me an awful lot back there.”

A glare fell on his face and his hands were suddenly on your hips, pulling you flush against him. “You’re mine.” He seethed, leaning his head down closer to yours.

Your faces were now only inches apart, your arms wrapping around his neck and the feeling of his hands squeezing your sides making your insides flutter and causing your heart to nearly beat out of your chest with excitement and anticipation.

Tilting your head up ever so slightly, your lips brushed over each other’s for the shortest second, but you stopped yourself before they could touch properly, giving him a seductive look and whispering: “Prove it.”

And that’s all it took for Oscar’s confidence to come flooding back, his lips pressing against yours the next second with such intimacy you were getting weak at the knees. 

You gripped at the back of his neck and you desperately tried to pull each other closer, even though you were already as close as the physics of space would allow. 

Around you, people were whistling and hollering, telling you to ‘get it’. The sound brought a smile to your face and you couldn’t keep the laughter in for long, forcing you to break apart.

Oscar was wearing a satisfied smirk of his own and once everyone had quietened down, he pulled you into his side and yelled out for all to hear, “Anyone put a hand on her and they’ll have me to answer to!” He squeezed your side and turned to look down at you affectionately. “Ella es mi ruca.”

He was still talking to the others when he said the last part, but with the way he was staring down at you, it felt like it was meant just for you. 

Everyone made some kind of sound of agreement and went back to their business, and you chuckled, placing a hand on his chest. “Alright, papi. No need to get all macho on them.”

The grip he had on your waist tightened and before you had time to react he had turned you around so you were standing in his arms again.

He leaned his face down close to yours and looked at you with dark eyes. “Call me that again and I’ll show you just how macho I can get, princesa.” He spoke lowly, his accent more evident than ever, and you wasted no time in pressing your lips to his in another kiss; the second one and not by far the last.

[thedeviltohisangel]

The Only Good I’ve Ever Done

During the five years he was blipped away, he thought about the snippets of his life that he would miss the most. The moments that he never appreciated enough. The moments that were so fleeting that he never got to expound upon. Plenty of them involved his family. Times on the fishing boat that he didn’t realize would keep him alive in his adult years. Holding his nephews for the first time and learning there was so much more to life and legacy. But so many also involved her.

masterlist is my url/writing

accepting requests for this pairing

There were a few things about Louisiana that Sam knew would never change. They would always have the best seafood. His sister and nephews would always be there. And he would always hold his breath waiting to run into Leila. 

During the five years he was blipped away, he thought about the snippets of his life that he would miss the most. The moments that he never appreciated enough. The moments that were so fleeting that he never got to expound upon. Plenty of them involved his family. Times on the fishing boat that he didn’t realize would keep him alive in his adult years. Holding his nephews for the first time and learning there was so much more to life and legacy. But so many also involved her. Kissing on the cheek during recess. Her cheering on the sidelines during his big game. Senior prom. When she said I love you right before he left to join the Air Force. 

They kept in contact while he was deployed. Spotty phone calls and fuzzy video calls sustained them but Sam cherished the letters she sent him more than anything. It was as if each stroke of her pen captured a bit of her heart that she sent away to be with him. Everyone teased him about how he was whipped for this girl. Asked him why he came out to this hellscape if he had such a beautiful woman at home waiting for him. He never answered because he didn’t think they would get it. He was here because he had a lot to prove. Prove to his parents that he could be responsible and mature. Prove to Leila and her family that he could keep her safe and provide for her. Prove to himself he deserved her.

When he was selected for the Falcon program, their communication slowed and slowed until it stopped altogether. He was pulling long hours and participating in highly classified missions and he didn’t know how to balance it. Leila still sent him letters even though he stopped writing back. He read them and felt numb. After so long, she stopped writing too. Every stroke of her pen broke her heart. She didn’t have anything left to give. She stopped visiting his sister and parents. Stopped looking at the houses for sale in the paper. Stopped looking at the bridal magazines in the waiting area of the doctor’s office. Her mom told her that sometimes people grow apart. Tried to help her rationalize Sam’s sudden disinterest. Her father told her that he had been right all along. That Sam was just some boy, not ready to be a man. That she deserved better. Leila held onto the hope that when he came back, she could look him in the eyes and talk to him and everything would be better. That they just needed to see each other again and it would all be okay. He would be hers again.

But his end date came and went. She heard nothing from him. Didn’t see him around town. When she found the courage to ask Sarah, she broke the news Sam wasn’t moving back to Louisiana. And she felt the nail in the coffin go right through her chest.

Sam thought about her when he watched Riley fall from the sky. Thought about her when he jumped out of the building in DC. Thought about her when he was locked in a cell on the Raft. He thought of her when he was snapped away and when he was snapped back and he had never known just how temporary life was than he did in those five years. 

And now he stood on a dock in Louisiana and there were seagulls and old friends and she was there. She was smiling and laughing and he didn’t even know how to say hello to her. 

She had heard Sam was back in town. She had been actively avoiding anywhere she thought he might be but there he was. A part of her could have guessed this was where they would ultimately cross paths. His family had so much history here. If there was anywhere for him to feel grounded, it would be at this dock.

It was also very clear that he was not going to come up and talk to her. At least not anytime soon. And if she wanted to have a conversation with him, after the years without one, she would have to be the one to initiate it.

“Hi, Sam Wilson.” There was no use in being nervous about it. No use in beating around the bush or pretending that they didn’t have the history that they did. She no longer held any resentment towards him. There had been too many years since then and too many astronomical events for him to hold her hostage. Since the last time she heard from him, she had loved others and lost others and learned how to grieve and how to cope and why her mother always told her the most important thing to be is resilient.

“Hey. I saw you over there and I was gonna-”

“You weren’t. That’s why I did,” she said with a smile. He was different. She could tell in just the handful of words they had exchanged. But he was still Sam. Maybe just a little rougher around the edges.

“If I didn’t know how to be with you Leila, I certainly don’t know how to be around you now.” He figured she deserved honesty after all these years. Besides, he had lost his chance with her long ago. There was no use in trying to save face or act suaver than he was.

“Well, if you’re here long enough we can try to figure it out. Try to find our inner second graders and go back to the simpler times,” she teased. Sam smiled and felt warm at the thought. Sometimes, people were meant to be in your life. You don’t always know how or why but you know you can’t live fully without them. She was one of those people to him. He was one of those people to her. It’d be worth the awkwardness to find some sense of rhythm and belonging again.

“Okay then let’s start simple. I’m here to work on the boat and brought some stuff for dinner if you have the time.” It sounded easy enough. Harmless enough. Two people catching up. There was a lot of that going around since they all had been snapped back. “Unless there’s someone in your life and doing that would be weird cause all the ladies here would certainly spread that around town.” She looked down at her shoes with a sad smile.

“There is but there isn’t. It’s a long story,” she replied.

“I have a lot of long stories too,” he shared. Without thinking, he reached for her hand and she met him halfway. Just the simple act made her feel safe and secure. Made her feel more protected than she had in years. Like she didn’t need to look over her shoulder in fear because he would be behind her. “Come on.” 

She followed him to the old Wilson family boat and stood still for a moment once her feet landed on deck. It had been so long since she had stepped foot on the vessel, years of memories rushing back at her. She found her way down into the galley and smiled as she thought about the times with Sam where they had taken full advantage of the privacy being below deck brought them. As kids they had pretended it was pirate ship. As teenagers it was place to steal kisses and exploring touches. As young adults it had been sharing beers and learning about physical intimacy. “During those five years, Sarah let displaced persons live here. The marina felt like a real community again. Like it did back when we were little.” Leila paused at the corkboard with pictures and let her fingers brush the polaroid of her that was pinned there.

“She hasn’t mentioned that to me,” Sam replied as he emptied the paper bag of food onto the tiny table tucked into the corner. 

“I’m sure you’ve both had more than enough to catch up on.” She slid into the chair he pulled out for her and took a nervous sip of a water bottle. “Thanks for the food,” she said with a smile as she popped a piece of shrimp into her mouth. 

“It’s your favorite place. It’d be sacrilege to eat it without you.” 

“It’s weird. The things you still remember about someone after time apart. The things you didn’t know you remembered until you saw them again.” She avoided his gaze when she looked up and saw how soft his eyes were as they landed on her. He had caused her nothing but pain and heartbreak since she had seen him last. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness. Didn’t deserve a second chance with her heart. Didn’t deserve to look at her like he loved her.

“You said there was someone,” Sam asked, clearing his throat. He couldn’t spend another second with her, falling in love all over again, if there was someone waiting for her at home. 

“I was engaged. Pre-blip. He...dusted while we were on vacation. Everyone else came back…” she paused and wiped a tear from her cheek. “I assume he’s happier wherever he is and doesn’t want to come back to me.” In her eyes, it was exactly what Sam had done. Gotten a taste of life without her and decided it was the one he preferred to live. Sam reached for her hand across the table but she pulled it out of his reach.

“I’m sorry.” For what he did or her fiance did, he wasn’t sure.

“Don’t be. I’m tired of everyone feeling sorry for me. I should be used to being alone by now.” She dropped her head into her hands with a sad chuckle. “I didn’t take you up on your offer to be snarky or rehash the past. I’m sorry.”

Now it was his turn. “Don’t be. What I did all those years ago. Not writing you back. Not calling when I got to DC-”

“I can’t relive it, Sam.” It was still too raw. Too real. Too ever present in the back of her mind that she barely survived it the first time, let alone talking it out with him a second time.

“I was scared. Scared of the fact that we had a real future together and real plans and a real chance of making it in this world. I was scared back then and I can’t be scared now. Not anymore.” If he didn’t say what he needed to, wanted to, he would never be able to live with himself. Not with all the loss he had suffered. “And when I watched my partner fall from the sky I was even more scared of not having those things. Of depriving you of your chance to have them. I knew I was committed to a life of service and that there’d be times when I had to put you second and I didn’t want to make that choice.”

“It wasn’t your choice to make. You took that choice away from me,” she responded with a new fire residing inside of her. She had never got the chance to have this fight with Sam. Her spirit had been waiting long enough.

“You’re right. I made the choice to give us a clean break-”

“Clean? Were you high on gunpowder over there?” She slid off the chair angrily and grabbed her purse from where she had tossed it. Her appetite was gone. Her elation at sharing a meal with Sam Wilson was gone.

“Don’t walk away from this. We owe it to ourselves to have this out. End things for good!” he called after her as he followed her onto the deck of the boat.

“I hate you, Sam! I hated you everyday for years and even when others came along I hated you for making it impossible to move on! I hate you for being you and I hate myself even more for still loving you!” she jabbed her finger in his direction then promptly deflated. 

“I never hated you, Leila. I never stopped being in love with you.” He wanted to kiss her. Crush her against him and never let her go. Promise her that he was ready to settle down and give her the life they had dreamt about together all those years ago. He took a step and she held up a hand to stop him.

“If you take another step, you have to understand what it means.” Sam grabbed her hand and pressed his lips to her palm. Kissed the tip of every finger and held it to his chest.

“It means I will never break another promise to you. Means you’re my forever and you have my heart for the rest of time. It means I will never put you second ever again and will spend the rest of my days earning your trust and forgiveness.” She stepped forward but kept her hand right where it was.

“Kiss me,” she whispered. And he did. It was softer than the reunion kisses of his dreams. His fingers were threaded in her hair, her eyelashes brushing against the top of his cheekbones as she leaned against him to try and get closer, closer, closer. Her hands were softer against his cheeks than he thinks he deserves. They held him with care. A delicate nature that had been removed from his life since the last time he held her like this. Leila’s toes stretched her upwards until Sam read her cue and gripped her thighs so she could jump and be his height. “Keep your hands above my waist.”

“What?” he asked dizzily as he pulled away but nipped at her jaw.

“You still have a lot of trust and forgiveness to earn,” she teased as she unhooked her legs from his waist and landed on her own two feet.

“Damn do you know how to wrap a man around your finger.” He pulled her in for a searing kiss. But he couldn’t help his mind wandering to her fiance. The man who abandoned her in some far corner of the world. Sam wanted to find him and...and maybe his anger at himself now had a different target after all these years. “Do you have a ride home?” he asked tenderly as he swayed with her in his arms.

“Are you offering to fly me back?” she asked jokingly but also seriously. She’d say yes if he offered. 

“No. I wish I could but the men in camo don’t trust me outside the base.” She pouted and it punched him in the gut. “Soon. I’ll make it work, figure something out.” The following moment of peaceful silence and companionship was interrupted by his phone ringing in his pocket.

“Real work or superhero work?” she asked as he looked at it with a furrowed brow. 

“Both. Just need a minute and then...then…” It kept ringing and ringing, he couldn’t get a thought out.

“I’ll go clean downstairs. Don’t take too long.” She kissed his cheek, dragging her hand down his arm before twining their fingers briefly, Sam not letting her escape his grasp until she got too far away to hold onto. He knew he kept putting this on his plate. His normal missions as Falcon. The Flag Smashers. The house and the boat. All of them felt like a weight on his soul but Leila...Leila felt like she lifted it. When she was around, he felt like he could breathe again. He was doing his best to juggle everything and he hoped, and prayed, none of them fell from his grasp. Not again. Not this time.

[becamitchellsbeats]

Bechloe - Skype Night

Inspired by the Bellas performance of Love On Top!

Beca is isolating alone and is missing the Bellas more than she cares to admit. One skype call and a spontaneous burst into a song later and everything changes.Might continue it so lemme know your thoughts!]

-

Beca's music career had been put on a temporary hold as she was made to isolate at home, her hand wrestling to the bottom of yet another chips packet as she flicked through the TV channel for the 17th time. "Well this officially sucks" she groaned to herself, tucking her legs in closer as she eyed a photo frame on the TV cabinet,  it was the Bellas graduation photo, looking back at it she wished she smiled more for the photo, she looked so grumpy, especially when compared to Chloe who her eyes focusing on Chloe in particular.

Beca hadn't seen Chloe in around 2 months which felt like agony seeing as she was used to seeing her daily, not that she'd ever admit it. The emptiness of her apartment was also driving her insane, she was in a position of wanting company but not wanting to ask for it, especially considering it had bizarrely became against the law for the time being, something she never could of seen coming.

See, everything went to crap when the Bellas graduated, a virus had taken the globe by storm, and university life had changed drastically, Beca was glad they had graduated before all the changes but it now meant she was isolating alone.

Fat Amy, who said she'd be Beca's 'roomie for life' received a 'dodgy' lump sum from her father so of course she was off living in a massive house somewhere and Chloe, who was her other potential roommate had gone and got herself stranded abroad whilst helping out at a vet overseas to gain more exotic animal experience.

Beca reluctantly removed herself from the sofa, dragging her feet across the wooden flooring as she made her way into the bathroom. She stared at herself in her mirror, her bottom lip tugging as she winced at the sight. Hair tangled, Cheetos dust staining her once white t-shirt and chipped black nail paint.

Tired eyes looked her reflection up and down, her hand lazily hitting the nozzle on the taps splashing herself with some cold water. "Okay Mitchell, you need to sort yourself out jeez" she said whilst waving her finger at herself in the mirror, pointing at herself somewhat sternly, then lightly smirking at herself for her own weird behavior. "I'm officially losing it" she admitted.

Feeling motivated to freshen herself up Beca jumped in the shower, warm water running down her body as she collected her thoughts. Stepping out the shower and feeling immediate regret as the cold air wrapped itself around her body, she shuddered, eagerly grasping for her towel as her wet hair now covered her eyes. She huffed, trying to blow the clingy wet hair off her lips as she blindly reached for her hair brush. Groans filled the bathroom as her hairbrush tore through the knots in her hair, her eyes watering from some particularly painful knots.

Fully clothed and nails now painted Beca had just finished on putting on her signature eyeliner. She sat in her bedroom, that was surprisingly still tidy, but that was because she had barely managed to remove herself from the sofa. She rarely socialized nowadays, other than her occasional skype calls with the group, but she always felt funny about joining calls, she was a bit awkward about having her webcam on and well, all of them insisted they have them on so she'd often opt out.

Beca however was eager to speak to Chloe, which was hard to do as she was a key worker at the vet she was helping out at abroad, with time zones and Chloe's long hours she was often exhausted so she rarely had the time and Beca felt weird reaching out to the others, she refused to come across as clingy but secretly felt sad whenever they left their skype calls. She even felt disappointed when Jessica left her.

Her hand moved to flip open her laptop lid as she adjusted her hair once more "I'll just call her, she'll be home" she mumbled to herself as her mouse hovered over the call button on Chloe's contact.

"Why do I feel so damn nervous" she said fidgeting as she stared at her username "Okay after 3, i'll click the damn call button" she moved her mouse up once more as she counted to three, pressing down on the green button as her own video filled the screen whilst a ringing noise echoed out her laptop speakers.

"Man I hate staring at myself like this" she muttered as the whole screen was filled by her camera.

A red circle, with a hang-up symbol filled the screen. Beca's heart sank. "Bad timing?" she wondered.

_______________________________________________

Chloe's heart raced with excitement when Beca called. She was getting worried about her since she had been so far away, she would often flood her with texts making sure she was eating and drinking enough. She knew Beca was down about not being able to carry out with her record label work and she wanted nothing more than to be there with her, but she knew she'd been neglecting Beca lately, she just didn't have the time and the time gap only worsened things.

"You guys Beca is calling give me a second I'll add her!"

DontBelieveInLadders: [Quick AMBUSH her!]

________________________________________________

Chloe's icon flashed up on Beca's screen it was her wearing sunglasses cuddling a baby fox, a new photo it seemed. Beca now focused her attention on her laptop that was now ringing as it flashed up "Chloe Beale + 8 others" "Group call?" Beca wondered as she clicked the green phone icon.

"BECAAAA!" the group greeted in unison. "Oh sweetie you look so good!" Chloe said with a grin who was also visible on her webcam "And you've got your camera on! I'm so glad" she said excitedly."Someone made an effort" Fat Amy teased, taking notice of Beca's stylish yet casual appearance.

Beca looked away from her camera awkwardly "What? I always get ready pfft"

"You literally have no where to go" Fat Amy responded in a pitchy yet blunt tone "But thats okay Beca, self-care is important and Impress-Chloe-Care even more so"

Beca rolled her eyes "How long you guys been on a call for anyways?" her hands fidgeting with the items on her desk, just out of shot of her camera.

FlippingThroughBorders: {Oh we just started} Flo typed on the message box below

DontBelieveInLadders: {We're still waiting for Stacie and still setting up bits} commented Aubrey as she rustled around in the background for her physical webcam to plug in.

_______________________________________________

Stacie laid in bed, browsing memes on her phone, her attention was diverted when Emily's text popped up {Heeeey hurry up and join the group skype call!} Stacie dangled over her bed and grabbed her laptop from underneath her set of bedside draws. She blew the dust off the top of it and opened it up "I've not used this bad boy in a while" she said as she turned it on, the battery flashing orange from where it was getting low.

As she opened up her search engine it flashed up with her old google tabs, an explicit site was restored and automatically started playing the last video she was watching. Stacie's eyes widened "Well that's quite the greeting," her eyes bulging as she looked the model in the video up and down before shaking her head and closing the tab. "Now is not the time for that" she laughed to herself as she launched skype and joined the chat.

"Hey you guuuuuys" she greeted with a toothy grin. The Bellas greeted their soprano cheerfully., Stacie's eyes focused on Beca "Look who finally learned that isolation doesn't mean isolating from virtual calls!"

Beca rolled her eyes again "I join in!""Occasionally" Emily countered."Or when Chloe is in the chat" Fat Amy coughed

"Aw poor Beca" Flo said into the mic now she had got it set up.

Beca began snapping her fingers rhythmically, gaining even more attention from the group. "I'm not doing this with you guys"

"Ba bah bah ba, ba" Beca hummed trying to drown them out

"What is she doing?" asked Emily"Ba ba bah da..." Beca continued "is that?" Aubrey raised an eyebrow "I recognize that arrangement, is that, Queen B?" Aubrey said enthusiastically as she leaned forward in her seat.

"Oh my god you guys are we going to sing?" Chloe said excitedly clasping her hands together as she bounced in her seat.

"Aw yeah!! lets sing together tonight you guys" Emily beamed"Okay legacy calm down don't ruin it before we've begun" Amy groaned.

The Bellas began snapping their fingers and harmonizing as they began to develop more of a beat for the song Beca was starting off.

"Here we go" said Fat Amy as the beat had been accomplished.  A grin slowly tugged at Stacie's face as Lily began beatboxing. "i'll bring  owowowo beat in"

Beca glanced away shyly as she sang into her microphone.‎"Honey, Honeyyy, I can see the stars, all the waaaay from here, can't you see the glow on the--"

"windowpane" the girls harmonized in unison

"I can feel the sun, whenever you're near, everytime you touch me I just melt away" Beca's eyes glanced at Chloe occasionally as she continued singing.

Fat Amy then jumped in with a solo "Everybody asking why i'm smiling now from ear to eaaaarr!" ("You can say love hurts") "Well I knooooooow-OHHH" ("It's gonna take a little work") Fat Amy said raising her fist passionately.

"Nothings perfect but its worth it, after fighting through my tears!" Stacie sang strongly

"And finally you put me first!"  (dah-dah) the Bellas all sang in unison

The Bellas danced together, doing hand gestures and performing together in perfect harmony. As the song continued Beca felt herself feeling more confident again, her heart feeling full as it felt like everyone was finally with her again.Her eyes closing as she found herself getting lost in the moment.

"Chloe its you, you're the one I love, you're the one I need!"

"You're the only one I see, C'mon Chloe its yoooooou"

Beca blurted out raising the octvave as they were reaching the end of the song "you're the one who gives your all, you're the one I can always call!" the girls continued the beat but stared at her. This was the version Beca would sing on her own, as she often would change song lyrics to fit how she felt.

"When I need to make everything stop, finally you put my love on top"

Chloe paused for a moment, failing to continue singing as her mind tried to grasp the lyrics that had just left Beca's mouth, her face reddening with slight tinges as started singing through her smile and teary eyes.

Being a supportive team the girls continued to hold off on teasing her, after all it was one of the Bellas standards not to let distractions interrupt a performance. Fat Amy couldn't help but smirk as she sang, she was itching to tease Beca.

The DJ was in her own world, snapping and swaying in her seat, singing with her eyes closed she hadn't even realised what she had said untilt he girls changed the lyrics themselves.

"Oh Baby I can feel the wind whipping past my faaaace" Beca sang

"As we dance the night awaaaay" the girls harmonized.

"And girl your look it tastes like a night of champagne"  (oooh) Chloe sang solo

"As I kiss you again and again and again and again" Aubrey chimed in.

As the song continued the girls began grinning, looking over at Chloe and Beca, then back to eachother as they all nodded, clearly on the same wavelength as the song progressed.

"CHLOE ,its yoooou" they sang raising the octave.

"you're the one Bec loves! you're the one Bec neeeeeeeeds"

"WAIT, GUYS" Beca yelled as her face went a shade of red she had never gone before.

"You're the only one she sees! c'mon Chloe its yoooou, you're the one who gives your all, your the one Bec can always call, when she needs you everything you DROP,  finally! you say your love out loud"

"Baby, you're the one that I love, you're the only one that I need!" Chloe sang loudly with a cheeky wink as Jessica and Ashley dominated the top notes.

"C'mon Beca its yoooooou" the Bellas sang in harmony

"When I need you everything stops, finally you put my love on top" the group then faded out to a stop.

The girls all cheered and celebrated as they finished the spontaneous arrangement of love on top. "Crushed it" Amy said with a fist bump.

Beca had already retreated behind her hands, wishing nothing more than to have a wheelie-chair so she could move herself off screen with speed.

"So Beca, remember the last time at the ICCAS when you changed the lyrics, well this was certainly distracting but, it kinda sounded like a confession" Aubrey teased.

"Hmm, thats so ODD Aubrey, I TO was thinking that sounded like a confession to me"

"I mean I got ripped a new one for performing an orginal song at that riff off, but to lyric change Beyonce, you're bold Mitchell" Emily joked.

"Aw don't tease her guys, shes drowning, although Beca, you should know, I've experienced  drowning for real,so this is better" Flo joined in.

"There was no hiding that Becs, surprised you didn't notice!" Stacie grinned

Beca groaned "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you" she said behind the safety of her hands.

"Well duh, it wasn't my name you sang the word 'LOVE' next too, quarantines got you all soft huh" Stacie couldn't help but tease.

Beca slowly dragged her hands down her face, peering out from the tips of her fingertips. "It was that obvious huh... guess thats what happens when I have the place to myself to sing the wrong damn version."

Chloe cleared her throat "Well I for one found that really sweet Becs" she said with a smile that met her eyes as her hand rested on her chest "Honestly my heart is pounding! its a good thing I know how to do CPR well on animals but, y'know" she fanned herself with her hand feeling flustered.

"Yeah um that wouldn't work Chloe, you can't do CPR on yourself" Fat Amy said shaking her head.

"I-I know that its just" Chloe went red "I just--" she threw her hands up in the air "Oof just get over her and kiss me Mitchell, screw this virus, lets just isolate together"

Beca looked up "Man this is so embarrassing this wasn't meant to come out like this and--"

"I'm glad honestly!" Chloe said with a grin "it just makes being a part from you even harder" she whined.

"I just wish you weren't so many miles away" Beca groaned

"Y'all need a ride because I can fly a plane, I just ain't got no licence officially at least" Cynthia Rose commented with a slow nod. "If you know what I mean" she said clicking her tongue.

"Thats so sweet of you but highly illegal, the Bellas have been in enough trouble in the news so we better do things legally this time, ahem, that goes to you too Amy" Chloe said suspiciously looking over at Amy who had moved off camera.

"Whaaaaat" Amy groaned "Its not like I was up to anything suspicious on a dodgey website just now"

"C'mon ladies lets give these two lovebirds some space and go gossip in another chat!" said Emily as the Bellas all began to retreat from the call so only Beca and Chloe remained.

Chloe placed her hand on the screen "Can't believe i'm only saying this now after like what, three years but, I love you Beca"

"I love you too Chlo"

- End of part -

[flappi22]

15.18 vs 15.20: a two speeches's confrontation

In the last episodes of Supernatural we have two big goodbye-speeches (Cas&Dean's), both leading to a main character's death, with both of them choosing to say goodbye by saying something not strictly about them but more about the person they're leaving behind: Cas talks about Dean, Dean about Sam. And these are two very important moments for the show, Cas and Dean's final moments with us, they should both be monumental, they should both carry the same amount of honesty and raw emotions and the "yeah, this is so right for them" reaction from the audience, but they don't. One works, the other doesn't. At all. Simply as that. But why? What's the big difference between them?

Cas's speech is a gift for them both, it's freedom for him and validation for Dean, it's a moment of truth and growth. It adds something, it doesn't take away. Dean's speech destroys everything, leaves just pain and despair and no hope for the future. Not for Dean, not for Sam.

When Dean is dying and he is speaking to Sam in the barn (10 minutes of a frankly anticlimactic speech they should have used for, you know, call an ambulance maybe?-but whatever) he decides to use his last moments to praise Sam by devaluing himself, destroying years of self-acceptance and character development, years of choosing life and love over trauma and death.

It's a last elogy to Sam and Dean's copendency, copendency they finally managed to resolve in their adult years, building a solid, healthier and more balanced relationship. It's a speech out of time, out of context and out of character. This isn't Dean. This isn't Sam. For the first time ever I almost didn't recognize our boys.

Dean doesn't say I'm proud of us, he says I'm proud of you. He says that his life is meaningless and he's just a burden and he should die because he doesn't deserve a life, but Sam does, he's dying and he tells his brother "this is good, let this happen because without me you can finally have the perfect and happy life only you deserve". He looks at Sam and says "you are the only good thing that I've ever done and now my job is over, there's nothing more for me here and dying is the last thing for me left to do". And... wow. I don't even know where to start. I could feel in my bones how wrong all of this was the moment Dean started speaking the first (and only) time I saw the episode.

Not only the pacing of the scene was someway off, the speech fairly too long and irrealistic for someone who claims that he's dying and there's nothing to do about it, the words flat and empty (remember the beauty of the "there's nothing past or present that I would put in front of you" in Sacrifice? Dean's monologue when Sam first died in season 2? The simple but so so powerful "I'm proud of us" in season 9?). And the really awkward forehead touch that you just know that's not them (Sam& Dean are both pretty psychical with each other in a life and death situation, they hug, they touch their face or their arms, they carry each other, but not that, that's just not their kind of intimacy, and after fifteen years watching them you just know it). Not only all of that, but the horrible and very dangerous truth this story wants to communicate: Dean is tired and is giving up, and Sam lets him.

There's no peace in this scene, no closure, there's just pain, fear, discomfort, self-hate and a death-wish that, in the end, finally wins.

And you can feel that not everyone was on board with this choice. Jensen is an amazing actor, we all know that. He did his best with the material he had, his acting was on point, but his heart wasn't in it. It was obviously an important moment for him, and he did good because Dean deserved a proper goodbye, because Sam&Dean's last scene should have been epic, because he's a damn good actor and he's always professional, but we all know by now that he probably hated this ending, and if he felt even half of the hurt and disappointment we still feel now well, it probably wasn't pretty, it had to hurt and you can see it in his acting.

I didn't cry at all during that moment. And I'm still mad they took that away from me. My favourite character is dying, my favourite show is over and I can't even cry. If you fail to get an emotional response from your more invested fans on your last episode of a 15 years show then you probably did something very very wrong and that's it.

But when Cas is speaking to Dean, he's shining. He speaks with confidence, his words are fearless and yet we have never seen him so open and vulnerable before. He cries but there's strength in those tears, there's joy, there's so much feeling, and you look at him and you cry too, because the intensity of those emotions are just so overwhelming, so raw, so real. He's proud of what he's doing, proud of the courage it took to finally be able to say out loud what he's feeling and how much he loves, how much he adores the man in front of him. He speaks about Dean and he tells him that he's worth it, worth of his love, of everything good this life has to offer. He brings up all Dean's more profound fears and he destroys them one by one, validating him, their bond and the feelings he's showing at the same time. It's beautiful, heartbreakingly beautiful. Such an honest and refreshing moment. Yes, there's sadness, there's pain, but the whole scene, the words, the pacing, how they look at each other, the music, all of this is just right. You can feel it. It's perfect. Cas dies by speaking his truth, freeing himself and them both from the restrains that years of silence brought on them, using this moment to cherish the man he loves, to make him see how much he deserves this adoration, how much his life is worth it, how much their lifes are worth it.

Cas's sacrifice is a choice, he's not saying "I want to die", he's saying "every moment with you was already a gift, I'm happy with just being with you and feel what I feel, but if this is what it takes to save you once again I'll do it in a heartbeat". He doesn't want to dismiss the importance of his life, he celebrates the power and the beauty of such feelings, this confession brings him, brings us, happiness and hope. In the end love (and therefore life) is stronger than Death, stronger than God, stronger than destiny.

It's this love that has saved them, hundreds of times and in a lot of different ways.

And you can feel how much Misha wanted this, how much he believed this was right for Cas, how much heart he put in this performance. How proud they were, artistically speaking, of the execution of this scene. I can see why they fought this hard to make this happen. I can see why Jensen wanted an unedited version of this scene on his phone. This is one of the best piece of writing Supernatural has ever had, and Jensen knows it. He's an amazing actor, he's a director, he has a great artistic mind and he's very smart when it comes to storytelling, what works and what not, not just on screen with his character but also behind the camera. I'm sure he was enthusiastic about this, the possibility of doing something so different and brave, something he knew it was artistically good and so important for the legacy of the show. Of course, how they threat them after this moment is horrible, cruel, disrespectful and unnecessary but I won't talk about it here, not again.

Two monologues, two goodbyes, two episodes apart, same actors and the feeling that you're watching two different shows.

That's what happens when you completely disregard the direction your story is going and all the development your characters went through in favour of senseless plot-twists for drama's sake and an ending coherent with your first season, but guess what? You did other 300 episodes after that, and maybe, maybe something has changed. You don't need shock in your last episode, because shock means unexpected, means a change of direction, and you can't have that when you reached the finish line. Your story is already written, it's already over, the audience knows where it's going and that's okay, because what you need is closure, is that sense of peace and satisfaction it comes with seeing your characters exactly where they should be, dead or alive in this case doesn't matter, it's the how that's important. It's keeping their values intact, following the last steps of their development, being faithful to the very core of the show:

Carry on my wayward son, there will be peace when you're done. Always keep fighting. Family don't end with blood. Team Free Will.

With the 15x18 they nearly did it. It was all there. The final episodes burned all away. Unapologetically, cruelly. An unnecessary and meaningless total mess.

[thisstableground]

do you have any hcs for if usnavi's parents hadn't died? it would change him and his story a lot and I feel like it could be really interesting, how he's still him but with such different experiences. and you write him and get his character so well so you're definitely the person to ask about this kind of thing if you're up for it :) (also as a fellow brit the uk au is really really weird to me, I can't quite work out why)

(lmao ikr? i wouldn’t actually call it a uk au because i firmly do not believe it could work as a fully-fledged idea without changing way too much about a very culturally specific story in a way that has very uncomfortable implications, tho it is hilarious to briefly entertain the idea of ITH except it’s all set in fuckin milton keynes or something because Simply No Thank You)

THIS WILL BE LONG, BUCKLE UP

i think that a lot of canon usnavis traits are perhaps things he already had but that got magnified by a huge amount after losing his parents, because they could also be seen as ADHD traits; particularly the anxiety and the difficulty with making changes or starting new things. he’s still worried about messing up, about making a fool of himeslf, or just doesnt have the executive functioning to do things. but the difference is prior to losing his parents he had a lot more optimism and self-confidence to push himself past those anxieties or to find it easier to listen to his friends and family when they encourage him, because he has this certainty when he’s younger that things will turn out okay. an usnavi who never loses his parents carries that certainty into adulthood (i think even after abuela passes, because while it’s difficult and tragic for him, it isn’t deeply traumatising in the same way). so this version of usnavi still worries about failure, but the stakes are so much lower; he might embarrass himself but he has the safety net of his parents support, whereas the fear that fuels canon usnavi’s difficulty with changing things or moving forward is “what if i fuck up and lose someone else important to me again?”, where things which aren’t actually literal life-or-death tend to feel that way to him, and he’s a lot more cynical about whether things will have a positive outcome.

with his parents still alive doesn’t find it so terrifying to look into the future – “today’s all we got”, he says in the opening song, and i think he would still say that but in a way that means “live for today, live in the moment, enjoy life”. that might be the attitude he’s trying to get across in canon, but he also uses it as a way to hold himself back and keep himself stuck in place, to not let himself hope for anything in the future: in canon, he knows in a very painful way that he isn’t promised a future, and nobody he loves is promised a future, so why make plans or hypotheticals or even seriously believe that he’ll ever go back to DR? (i genuinely think there’s a subconscious part of him that’s firmly convinced he’s going to die young, but that’s a whole other tangent). he’s living in the moment because he’s scared of what he’ll see when he looks past it; usnavi with his parents still around lives in the moment because he likes the moment he’s in.

i wonder if him and vanessa would have ended up dating, or at least if they’d have been so successful and long-lasting as a couple. they’e always known each other and got on well, but i see their deeper feelings as growing out of  this shared understanding between them based on the difficulties they’ve been through – would they have still had the champagne bet, if usnavi didn’t have that grief and loss and extra responsibility that drives his vague non-plans to go live in DR? would he even want to leave new york, in this version, or would he still be content with the place he grew up because it doesn’t have those painful memories? 

the character arc of reconciling moving forward from a place that symbolises a painful past without having to completely sever from the good things about it is something that both of them share in canon. without those moments of both being given too many responsibilities and too much independence way too young because they don’t have parents who can ease the transition into adulthood, or this unspoken recognition that even with all their barrio family around both of them are very much on their own in some ways, would they make the deeper emotional connection that makes them work so well together in a more long-term way? or would they just have gone on a few casual dates that didn’t stand out from any other casual dates they might have with others?

and hell, maybe usnavi would’ve already been in a relationship with someone completely different – he’d be working at the store with two other people who were experienced in running it. he’d have so much more time to go out, have a social life, go to clubs and hang out with more people his own age. usnavi after losing his parents became quite disconnected from the larger group of people him and benny would hang out with at school; he doesn’t have the time, he doesn’t have the energy, and for a long time while he’s still so deep in grief i think they find it hard to know how to be friends with this quiet, broken, listless usnavi. they’re all still friendly but internally i think he loses his sense of place with his peers because he’s been rapidly catapulted into a stage of life that none of them are in. an usnavi who doesn’t lose his parents also doesn’t lose his sense of being around the same level and life stage as his peers, so who knows who he meets or develops feelings for?

his relationship with sonny is definitely different. his love and care for him isn’t so full of fear, because he doesn’t feel this need to protect him from every little thing or like it’s his personal responsibility to keep him alive, because it doesn’t really occur to him that he could lose him. canon usnavi i think has a lot more of a somewhat parental vibe, and often an overprotective parent at that. i think this usnavi, because he doesn’t have to grow up so quickly and he isn’t sonny’s boss, has much more of a fun big brother role. and i think sonny in return doesn’t feel so much responsibility for usnavi as he grows up - he doesnt feel like he has to force him to have fun or get some rest or put himself first every so often because usnavi doesnt push himself nearly so relentlessly and because his parents can look out for him when he does. 

maybe sonny doesn’t start working in the bodega until much later, either – a lot of why he spends so much time there is because usnavi watches him while his mom’s at work but can’t just close the store. if his parents are there to keep working then usnavi watches sonny at one of their homes, or they go out and do more stuff. the bodega is still important to both of them but it isn’t nearly as much a main setting for sonny’s adolescence as it is in canon.

on that note, since in my version the first thing that makes usnavi hold an instant vendetta against pete is catching pete tagging the store only a few weeks after losing his parents, where his feelings are still so intense and raw. the store hasn’t reopened and so the graffiti feels like someone else making a claim on the only thing he has left of his parents. in this version he’d be annoyed to catch someone tagging the store at most but much quicker to forgive and forget. so in a world where usnavi doesn’t lose his parents, usnavi also doesn’t hate graffiti pete.

 if we’re assuming that things did go roughly similar to the point of usnavi being in the club with vanessa on the night of the blackout, here’s the things that would change:

- sonny isn’t the one at the bodega, his parents are, and they’re together so usnavi doesn’t feel the same urgency to get back and check on things there when the power goes out. instead he finds vanessa and walks her home and by the time he’s back at the store, i think his mom would already be with abuela making sure she’s okay, and usnavi would focus on helping his dad make sure everything was safe and secure at the bodega

- he’s also probably still pretty drunk at this point, so there’s a chance that when everything at the store is secured he just goes straight to bed; it’s been a long night, and he’s tired, and he doesn’t have the trauma of past loss making him feel like he personally has to check every little thing himself. he trusts his parents to take care of abuela, it isn’t all on his shoulders. so they don’t have their moment together on the roof.

- whether the store gets looted in this version or not, i don’t think usnavi’s waking up at sunrise to deal with it, but even if he is then he gets up, helps his parents, is upset and annoyed but not in the same visceral, overwhelming way that he is in canon because he doesn’t have all those other long-term anxieties building up in him, he doesn’t have that pressure of his parents legacy tied up in the store when they’re still right there, he doesn’t have that conversation with vanessa where she’s hurt and betrayed that he left her in the blackout and didn’t check up on her.  (sidenote this may even mean that vanessa doesn’t move downtown, because if he isnt looking for a way to make things up to her before he leaves then he might not think to speak to dani about co-signing her apartment)

-  this means he probably doesn’t get overwhelmed and abandon cleanup to go visit abuela in the morning like he does in canon when we get Hundreds of Stories. he might not even be around, since he tells sonny in canon to get a generator and candles to the church and that’s probably an errand he’d do himself while his parents manned the store. this means he probably does not see abuela that one final time or have that one final meaningful conversation with her before she passes.

final sad note: in a version of events where usnavi never loses his parents, christmas is still his favourite time of year.

[fangslikedaggers]

❝ he was a collection of hard lines and tailored edges – sharp jaw, lean build, wool coat snug across his shoulders. ❞ 

huh, who’s DAVID CORENSWET? no, you’re mistaken, that’s actually ALAIN LESTOAT. he is a TWENTY FOUR year old PART-VAMPIRE wizard who is an UNSPEAKABLE. he is known for being RETICENT, MERCURIAL, ALOOF, EVASIVE, and DECADENT but also CHIVALROUS, ADROIT, PRAGMATIC, DEBONAIR, and INTUITIVE, so that must be why he always reminds me of the song THAT’S OKAY BY THE HUSH SOUND and THREE PIECE SUITS, LONE MATTRESS IN AN EMPTY APARTMENT, CODED NOTEBOOKS, INK-STAINED HANDS, BLACK COFFEE GONE COLD, UNSENT POSTCARDS, OLD TABACCO PIPE, SOFT DIMPLED GRINS, PERFECTLY COIFFED HAIR, ÉDITH PIAF RECORDS ON LOW, and RED LEATHER GLOVES. i hear he is aligned with NO ONE, so be sure to keep an eye on him. 

GENERAL

FULL NAME: Alain Danet Lestoat NICKNAME(S): some people call him ‘Drac’ for some reason, but he prefers to simply be called Alain AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: 24, 09/19/2005 (will update graphic soon) OCCUPATION: Unspeakable, works in the Death Chamber most days GENDER: Cis Man PRONOUNS: He/Him HOMETOWN: Eguisheim, Haut-Rhin, France CURRENT RESIDENCE: London, England ALMA MATTER: Beauxbatons BLOOD STATUS: Part-Vampire (1/4th) / Halfblood

BIOGRAPHY

If you’ve ever had a chocolate frog, then there’s a great chance you’ve heard the name Lestoat. Among the many trading cards you can find in the packaged confection there is one for an Amarillo Lestoat, a vampire born at the same time that America declared its Independence, immortalized on enchanted cardstock. Amarillo’s rise to fame came with a single piece of literature which the vampire had published during his two hundred and one years. A Vampire’s Monologue, a mind numbingly boring read that offered the vampire a way to disable his victims so he could feed off them without trouble. It’s a story that has followed his grandson Alain throughout his twenty six years -- a fact that isn’t exactly welcome to the 1/4 Part-Vampire. 

Alain Danet Lestoat was born on a cold and murky September day in the commune of Eguisheim in Haut-Rhin to Marguerite Babineaux, a pureblooded witch whose family was one of the most prominent pureblood families in France during the 20th century, and her Part-Vampire husband Alexander Lestoat; the unexpectedly conceived son of the bore himself. Amarillo had no intention of fathering halfbreed offspring, but was surprised only ten years prior to his death to find out he’d impregnated a young witch he’d used his book on during a trip to Madrid, thus beginning the equally magical and vampiric lineage of the writer. Sometimes Alain wishes the man had managed to keep to this plan. From the moment he opened his eyes to the world he was instantly met with hardships and difficult hurdles to overcome. 

From his father’s side Alain had inherited a severe allergy to garlic, an acute aversion to direct sunlight, canines that were far too long and awkward for braces, and, of course, a slight penchant for the taste of blood. For her part, Marguerite had managed to pass down dark, thick curls and dimpled smiles, but that was not enough to quell the sort of fear that one got whenever he flashed a toothy grin at them. In Eguisheim, among the non-magical denizens, it was important for the Lestoats to stay incognito. Wixen could hide easily among the non-magical, ashen complexed and fanged Vampires could hardly do the same. As such, his childhood was rather isolated and sheltered. He spent most of his days roaming the rather large manor house they had acquired on the edge of town, reading the vast collection of books his two-centuries-old grandfather had left in his father’s possession, consuming knowledge about the world outside he could seldom take part in. 

It wouldn’t be until he’d received his invitation to study at his mother’s alma matter that he would get to see the outside world. With its sprawling gardens, never-melting ice sculptures and enchanting fountains, Beauxbatons Academy of Magic felt more like it belonged among Perrault’s stories than in the real world, and yet it was very real. Equal parts excited and horrifyingly nervous, Alain travelled to the secluded chateau to begin his education. His only hope was that among the magical folk of France he would be able to be more readily accepted. He was only a fourth vampire after all -- he was more like the other wixen around him, how could they abhor him? Disappointment would soon become a constant acquaintance for him. All it had taken was one excitedly large toothy grin to a fellow first year within the first minutes of the welcome feast and Alain’s reputation had been set. Leech. Bloodsucker. Monster. All desperately unfair labels since, as he constantly reminded others, he was more wizard than vampire, but it hadn’t mattered. Having knives for teeth was enough to cause anyone to instantly write him off as a danger and liability. 

After a particularly disastrous first year, including a rather humiliating question-and-answer session during a DADA class, he had sworn he would turn his back on the wizarding world and never come back. I’ll run away into the words, become the Bête in an enchanted castle and make friends out of the utensils I’ll steal from maman’s cupboard. It hadn’t been until Alexander intervened, having gone through a rough schooling experience himself, that Alain would be comfortable with returning to the academy. You’ll just have to prove to them they’re wrong by showing what kind of person you are. It was with this advice that Alain would come back year after year, despite the harassment from his classmates, in order to study. He had resolved to be the best wizard he could. He studied hard -- an easy feat since he was rarely invited along to field trips or outings with his classmates -- excelled at his academics and managed to be top of his class. Despite the naysayers, he’d graduated from Beauxbatons with top honors, and plenty of prestigious internships and job proposals to choose from. Tired of the isolation of both his small commune and the secluded chateau, he had taken what he felt was the most lucrative option -- an internship with the Bureaux des Mystéres in the Ministère des Affaires Magiques de la France. 

It wasn’t a particularly glamorous position -- he mostly helped file nonsensical reports. He wasn’t allowed anywhere near the actual Chambers within, but he’d caught on quickly enough to know that some really interesting and important stuff happened in there. Why else didn’t anyone talk about it? When he was able to, he applied to become an Unspeakable trainee and before long he was finally setting foot inside those elusive rooms and learning their secrets. He could be trusted to keep them; he was never one to socialize anyway. Who was he going to tell? The only person who was ever privy to his intimate thoughts was his little sister Amélie, and she was still too little to have discussions about his job. Quickly, he’d come to find the secretive and confidential world within those chambers were far more comforting than the vast world outside. His hunger for knowledge about the things he was studying had lead him to submit an application for another Ministry of Magic across the channel. It was said that in the UK they had made more headway with the types of things that were being studied within their own Department of Mysteries, and Alain was desperate to understand everything. When he’d gotten a response back from their Department head eagerly welcoming him to the team, he left first thing and didn’t once look back. France had already taught him enough, it was time to find something more on other shores. 

He’s been in the UK for only a year and a half now, and most of the time he’s spent sitting before a stone arch and shroud, listening to voices calling to him. The Death Chamber. There was something kind of funny about a vampire studying death, but Alain doesn’t care. Each day more mysteries open up to him, keeping him from sleeping and eating as his mind reels with everything. He’s been so occupied with his highly secretive work that he hadn’t noticed the climate changing around him. As a foreigner he understood the past conflicts in England in a textual sense. The Wizarding Wars and the Death Eaters were footnotes in his textbooks, a foreign problem to learn from. They weren’t close to home or part of his own history, so he hadn’t given them much thought. When a string of high prolific deaths began taking place they were sad, no doubt, but not warning bells of something dark to come. As such, he hasn’t taken a side. Per his letters home, he insists that should things become grim in England then he will secure a portkey back to France and resume his post in the Ministére, but Alain figures that whatever is happening will eventually de-escalate. Hadn’t they stopped a rise in dark wizardry in this country a matter of decades prior? 

ok so basically: alain is an introverted part-vampire who migrated to london about a year and half prior to start of game to work at the department of mysteries in the ministry. he started his career as an unspeakable in france’s ministry but is eager to learn more than he thinks was capable back in his homeland. 

BULLYING AND SLIGHT NON CON TW. generally he’s kind of introverted and keeps to himself; this is because he was harassed and bullied a lot as a beauxbatons student for being “halfbreed”. he’s 1/4 vampire and the grandson of a famous vampire writer, a legacy he really hates. in particular he hates that he’s 1. labelled as a monster by ignorant people (he lives off regular food, thank you very much) but also 2. if people know about his grandfather, then they know he wrote a boring af book and in a shady way to get people to submit to him for feeding. kinda feels non-consensual ya know?? 

PHOBIA MENTION TW as both a vampire and a frenchman, he dresses impeccably, so he’s usually seen around in long trench coats and thin tailored suits. he wears red leather gloves as both a fashion statement and also because he is a bit of a germaphobe. he won’t divulge details but this has to do with a vicious prank that was done to him when he was a student. he was kinda carrie’d if ya feel me. 

despite an air of decadence and debonair, he’s kind of poor (rip) and lives in a dingy little shoebox flat where he sleeps on a barren mattress and eats instant ramen and boxed wine for dinner. most of his money goes towards his closet or to his family back home, who doesn’t really need it but he loves spoiling his little sister so he would rather fund her life than his own. claims he’s making enough to live elegantly so they don’t realize he’s a l i a r. 

look he’s gonna be a bit of a hard egg to crack but i promise once he is cracked he’s charming and sweet and a loyal good friend so pls don’t give up on his interactions if he’s aloof and distant ;-; give the boy a chance. 

idk i’ll probably add to this as I think of stuff; it’s 3 am lmao

MISC

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Demisexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Heteromantic LANGUAGES: English, French, Spanish, Some German FAMILY: Alexander Amarillo Lestoat (father, b. 1967 in Madrid, Spain), Marguerite Celeste Lestoat neé Babineaux (mother, b. 1981 in Mulhouse, France), Amélie Marguerite Lestoat (sister, b. 2011 in Eguisheim, Haut-Rhin, France), Amarillo Lestoat † (grandfather, b. 1776 in Philadelphia, America, died 1977 in Madrid, Spain; vampire and author of a vampire’s monologue)  PETS: Barn Owl named Archimedes and Black Kneazle named Persephone FACE CLAIM: David Corenswet ZODIAC SIGN: Virgo MBTI: TBD PINTEREST: (x)

WANTED CONNECTIONS

tbh i have nothing in mind so just hmu if you have ideas. if not, we will brain storm :) 

bonus: 

alain danet lestoat, beauxbatons first year c. 2017. ignore that wonky ass eye i’m too lazy to fix it

[soapsilly]

Everyday a little less Part 2 - Viking imagine

Pairings: Hvitserk x reader, (slight) Ubbe x reader

Summary: (Y/N) is Kattegat’s healer and Hvitserk’s girlfriend but after Hvitserk decides to side with Ivar and fight against Ubbe, she questions herself if she can still stay with him.

Requests are open

Okay, so from now on I’ll only follow the story setting loosely so bear with me. I haven’t decided who I want (Y/N) to end up with so there will be a third part. Possibly a fourth. I have no clue at all so I’m hoping for a godly epiphany of some sorts xD. This chapter has a lot of backstory to explain some of the characte’s intentions. Also, Björn and Torvi are still together in this because I like Torvi and she obviously can’t be with Ubbe now. Paragraphs written in italics are flashbacks/memories.

———————————————————————————————————–

“Then they dropped me off at that clearing near the shore. Ubbe, you know where,” she looked at Ubbe before she continued, “that’s all I know”, (Y/N) explained at the feast.

“At least we now know that they’re back”, Ubbe reassured her. He knew how hard it was for her to leave Hvitserk. To her it almost seemed like betrayal. They swore to never leave one another, after all.

Hvitserk and her were lying in the grass watching the sunset after spending the whole day together. They had their hands intertwined and he was playing with her fingers.

“Have you ever been to Götaland? That’s where my father and my mother met… They say you can see Yggdrasil there,” he looked at her. He enjoyed when she talked about her travels.

“I know. And I have,” she answered.

“What about Uppsala? Have you been to Uppsala?”

She chuckled,”Yes, I have”. 

Eventhough he was older than her, he hasn’t really seen much of the world. His mother caused him and his brothers to live a rather sheltered life.

“Well, I’ve been to Paris,” he teased her because he knew she’s never been there.

He became somber for a minute,”Do you like Kattegat?”

“Of course. It’s my home. But there’s so much the world has to offer, so many places to see. So much to learn..”, she rambled. Hvitserk’s questions about her journeys reminded her of how she loved seeing different places.

“So you wouldn’t have stayed if it wasn’t for mother?” he asked her.

“Well… no. But I’m glad she had me stay here. I wouldn’t have met you otherwise”, she sensed why he’s gotten quiet all of a sudden.

“I guess I’ll have to thank my mother then. That’s the only good thing that’s come out of her only caring about Ivar”, he sent her a crooked grin.

She didn’t argue with him. She knew he was right.

“But you know, Ivar doesn’t need you as much anymore. Now would be the perfect time to leave again”, he looked at her.

“What are you hinting at, Hvitserk? I’m not leaving”, she questioned him.

His face lit up,”Great! Just what I wanted to hear!” 

She liked how he never stayed serious for too long. 

“So promise me not to leave me”, before she could answer, he continued,”I know you want to see the world. And you can. I want to raid and I want to explore. And having a healer present seems like a wise choice”, he sent her a wink.

She was about to answer when he interrupted her again,”I’m not done yet. Gods, Woman. Will you let me finish?” 

That earned him a slap on the forearm, which, in turn, earned her a deep hearty laugh from her lover.

“So as I was saying… Promise me not to leave and I’ll swear on my arm ring to always protect you and keep you safe”, he finished and she looked at him.

He was nervous when she didn’t answer immediately,”You know… now you should answer”.

She turned on her side, looking deep in his eyes. She knew he meant what he was telling her and she trusted him with her life because eventhough he was a goofball, he was a fierce warrior that would go all the way to protect the ones he loved.

She leaned forward and they shared a sweet kiss. When they parted he still looked at her expectantly.

“So I take that as a yes?”

She let out a laugh, which was like music to his ears. He loved making her happy.

“I promise, Hvitserk”.

“(Y/N)? Are you not well?” Ubbe already cursed himself for asking her that stupid of a question. Of course she wasn’t well but she seemed so distant all of a sudden.

“Yes, of course Ubbe”, she sent him a warm smile, “but I am rather tired. If you permit, I would like to retreat for the night”, she turned to Queen Lagertha, who in return nodded her head.

She thanked her and then left the table. 

Ubbe was about to follow her to make sure she’s alright, but the Queen stopped him, “Let her leave, Ubbe. She needs time”.

———————————————————————————————————–(Y/N) took a deep breath before entering hers and Hvitserk’s hut. It just seemed like yesterday when the two of them left it to sail to England.

The inside just looked like she left it. One of the slaves already started a fire so she had it warm when she decided to retreat for the night but she didn’t find any sleep. Memories of her and Hvitserk clouded her mind. Their bed didn’t feel familiar anymore. In fact, she felt like a stranger in a stranger’s home. 

When she heard the birds sing their song as soon as the first ray of sunlight hit the earth, she abandoned her attempts to fall asleep and decided to get dressed and wander around the market place for a while.

As she was strolling around her feet carried her all the way to the beach where she and the brothers used to spent a lot of time back when things were uncomplicated.

She sat in the sand thinking. Thinking of Sigurd, thinking of Ivar…

She and Ivar were actually very close growing up. She didn’t mind mending his pain as much as she could. She always sensed a kind of sadness within him. A sadness that he, himself, didn’t even know was there. It was hard for him. A viking that couldn’t raid, couldn’t fight. And it was even harder for him having Ragnar Lothbrok’s legacy weighing on his shoulders. But she didn’t help him out of pity or because the Queen ordered her to do it. She wanted to help him. 

He liked to think they developed a friendship that goes further than just her being his healer. And he unknowingly showed her a side of him that nobody else got to see.  He wasn’t used to anybody caring baout him the way she cared for him - with the exception of his mother, of course. To her he was friendly and she liked spending time with him, eventhough she still sometimes fell victim to the younger boys anger and impatience. But she never witnessed the violence and cruelty that many people feared him for. Thinking back now she thought of how she could be so stupid to not notice that the things people were saying about him were all true.

As she sat there in the sand she desperately tried to avoid thinking about Hvitserk. She knew she had to stop memories of him flooding her mind, if she ever wanted to have a good night’s sleep again. But every spot, every place, every nook and cranny, reminded her of him. 

“Let’s go. Do we have everything? What are we waiting for?”, Sigurd was excited to finally get going. The princes were planning to go for a day trip to their litte cabin, where they would hunt, practise their fighting and just unwind together.

“Ivar won’t be coming with you. He’s not feeling too well today”, (Y/N) informed the boys for Ivar, who wouldn’t want to admit to them that he couldn’t join them because of his disability. She knew how bad he felt on those days, not only physically but mentally, too.

“I’ll stay here with him”, she continued.

“Actually, I don’t really feel like leaving Kattegat today. I’ll stay here, too”, Hvitserk sent Ubbe a wink.

“What? Why? I know you were looking forward to our trip”, Sigurd exclaimed, “maybe we should postpone altogether?”

“No, Sigurd. It’s fine. We’ll still go,” Ubbe knew what Hvitserk was on about. His brother already told him a couple of nights ago that he had found an interest in (Y/N), after Ubbe commented on Hvitserk’s disinterest in the women that would very openly make their advances on the young prince.

“But…”, Sigurd was still cluesless. 

“Come on, brother”, Ubbe clapped his brother’s back, sent Hvitserk a wink and lead their younger brother away.

“So, (Y/N). A little birdie told me you never learned to fight? Let me teach you some. It’s important for a woman to be able to defend herself”, Hvitserk turned towards the healer.

“Sure. I always admired the way a shieldmaiden would fight”, she sent him a bright smile, that Hvitserk was sure he wanted to see again. Being the reason for her happiness made him proud in a way he never experienced before. 

Hvitserk was always popular with the girl’s but none of them ever made him feel the way (Y/N) did. She was smart, the best storyteller he’s ever listened to and caring but that wasn’t the sole reason that attracted him to her. What he loved about her the most was how headstrong she was. Whenever Ivar was calling her stupid or lost his temper with her, she wouldn’t just cower in fear or bow her head. She knew how to react to his provocations and even could make him apologize from time to time.

So there they were on the beach. Hvitserk was trying to teach (Y/N) the right stance while Ivar was correcting her from where he sat.

“Hvitserk! Her legs!” Ivar shouted.

“Further apart. You need to have a solid stance”, Hvitserk held her by the hips and nudged her legs in the right position with his feet.

“That’s good. And now take the sword like this”, Hvitserk proceeded to show her.

As she was about to take it, she heard Ivar whince in pain. Today was a bad day for him. She dropped the sword, Hvitserk’s attempts totally forgotten.

“What hurts?”

Ivar gestured towards his left ankle. The girl started to apply pressure to it, which was usually a good method to  mend his pain but  this time it didn’t. 

“Ivar, would you like a cold cloth?”, she offered to which he agreed.

She hurried over to the sea and wet some pieces of cloth in the icy water. When she returned she rubbed his leg with a mixture of hay flower and arnica before wrapping it with the wet, cold cloths. Then she sat herself next to him in the sand and started talking to Ivar. Much to Hvitserk’s dismay.

“Ahhh!” Hvitserk yelled and dropped to the floor. (Y/N) was on her feet and at his side in seconds.

“What happened?”, she asked him.

“I twisted my ankle. I made a wrong move. It might even be broken”, Hvitserk told her.

“It’s most likely sprained. But let me take a look at it”, she said worried.

She helped him out of his boot and rolled his pants to assess the severity of his injury.

“It’s not swollen or bruised,” she was puzzled, “does it hurt if I move it this way?”

“Yes, terribly”, Hvitserk answered looking down at her. He enjoyed the way she cared for him.

Ivar rolled his eyes, knowing what his brother was doing but he chose to not say anything about it while she cooled Hvitserk’s ankle.

“I’m not surprised to find you here”, she was pulled out of her thoughts by Ubbe, who had just arrived at the beach.

“How did you know I was here?”, she asked him without taking her eyes off the sea foam on the shore.

“I didn’t. I often come here to think. I’m just not surprised you had the same idea”, he answered, “how did you sleep?”

“Not at all”

He didn’t say anything.

“I just can’t get him out of my head, Ubbe. Everywhere I go, everything I see… it’s always him. It’s like he’s haunting me”, she told him.

He sat down next to her and grabbed her hand in support. He knew how she felt. He, too, lost his younger brother. In fact, he lost all of them.

For a while they just sat in silence until (Y/N) spoke up.

“Maybe things don’t have to end badly. Maybe he’ll come to his senses. Maybe things can get back to normal?” she asked him hopefully.

“Yes, maybe. I would like that”, Ubbe couldn’t know for sure but definitely couldn’t bring himself to crush her hope just like that. The way she looked at him made him want to shelter her and keep her out of harm’s way. So wether it was realistic or not didn’t matter at the moment. Only the Gods had the answers anyways.

She sent him a half-smile and then returned her gaze towards the sea a little less worried.

They were sitting in comfortable silence until a thrall came running to the beach.

“Prince Ubbe! There’s a message from Vestfold. Queen Lagertha is requiring your presence in the great hall”, she finished.

Ubbe jumped up but before he left the beach, he turned towards (Y/N) with his hand out-stretched to help her up, which she took gratefully.

He looked her deep in the eyes. 

“Guess, we’ll find out now. Are you ready?”

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To be continued…

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