#with maybe just a little knightley on the side | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nurseguillermo · 6 months

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Who: Hunter Hilton & Mo Reyes Where: Pumpkin Festival Summary: Hunter vents to Mo about Val and how much this storyline sucks.

There weren't many people Hunter felt he could turn to in town, that number dropping by one and closer to one now that Val was seemingly out of the picture. He didn't want her to be, but given the situation, he didn't want to be around her right now. Instead he stormed around town looking for one of the two other people that came to mind that could offer support, and when he spotted one, Hunter beelined right for him. "Dude, you got a minute?"

Mo was still thrown from his talk with Cain, he'd hoped he and Val worked things out, if for nothing else so he didn't have to try and be helpful. They didn't mind Cain venting, but he struggled enough with handling his own feelings, let alone someone else's. There was a a small part that felt a little guilty that he wasn't better at being comforting, but he was the distraction guy. Least that's how he saw it. He'd been leaning against a building debating trying to find Eagan or one of his friends when someone dressed as mummy shambled in front of him.

Part of him was wondering if he had one shot too many when he recognized the voice. "Hunter? Damn dude just use all the fucking toilet paper in town why don't you," he said shaking his head. Cocking his head to the side he gave him a nod, "Yeah I'm on break, what's up?" Why was he still going along with Hunter's delusions? Cause it was the only way to get him to listen to Mo when he emphasized leaving the damn runes alone and follow curfew.

"Dude when I tell you I am having the worst fucking week you could imagine," Hunter sat himself down, segments of the toilet paper folding out of place and he pulled a load of it from around his head, discarding it onto the ground. "Like, I know you guys that work here are under NDA and strict contracts and whatever to like...not mention the outside world 'cause it shatters immersion and I'm am super happy that you actually break character for me but like...no one here knows who I am except like three people that I knew before all this and I'm finding it fucking weird. Like, fuck, I don't have my usual group of people for the like...support side of things."

He was rambling, he knew it, but he didn't give Mo chance to interrupt, wanting to get everything off his chest before Mo had to get back to work. "I think me and Val just broke the fuck up, but I don't know if we actually did 'cause we didn't really get to talk about it." He sighed. "And also, be honest, as my friend...am I attractive?"

Mo glanced up at the sky wondering what he'd done to suddenly be considered the relationship guy. Maybe he was spending too much time with Knightley, the whole good beside manner thing affecting him outside work. Plopping down on the bench next to Hunter he threw his arm over the back of it. He had to fight the urge to roll his eyes at the breaking character comment. At some point things would come full circle and he wasn't sure how Hunter would take it, as annoying as he could be Mo almost envied him. Ignorance was bliss after all. Bringing out a flask he took a few sips figuring he let him do his usual ranting before chocking when he called Val his girlfriend.

Sure the gossip column had said as much, and he'd spoken with Val over it. Her wanting to apologize for dragging him into it and like always he'd been willing to be a distraction. But hearing it from Hunter himself it still felt surreal, add in the realization that it seemed he had no idea of Mo and Val's situation. "She was pretty upset over the gossip column putting all her business out there," he said shrugging after clearing his throat, "So what did you talk about?" At his next question his eyebrows rose in surprise. Giving Hunter a brief once over he shrugged, "I mean when you're not covered in 10 rolls of toilet paper, I'd say yeah. So what is that what caused the break up?"

Mo was a good friend, a real friend. Hunter hadn't gone to the other guy much for advice but he'd always given him sound advice whenever Hunter had asked. That was something that didn't come easy, someone you could trust, especially in a town smaller than Hunter was used to. Everyone knew everyone, and everyone needed someone close. Hunter had Kirby, and Mo, and Val, but that last one was a little more up in the air.

"She seemed fine," he said with a shrug, "I told her it doesn't matter if you sleep with a load of people. Sure it ain't nice to have them fucking listed but it ain't the end of the fucking world. So we spoke about that, and then she said she likes me but wants to like other people and like-" he pulled a disgusted face, "-shit like that doesn't fly with me. You can't claim to be in love with multiple people at once, especially some guy she said she's known since school or whatever. Like that's ample time to know how you feel about someone. And it's fucking irritation dude...I really like her..." He shrugged, head shaking and looked down at the ground, genuine disappointment coming across his face. "It's 14 rolls, but I'll take that. They wanna say in the gossip column that I'm gay but literally no guys are actively trying to sleep with me, so what's the fucking point in spreading that rumour."

Mo's jaw clenched and he took a long sip from the flask as Hunter went on. Val hadn't been fine, one conversation and he should have known that. "People shit talked me towards the end of high school, it sucks in a small town to have people in your business like that," he said hoping maybe it click for Hunter that not everyone reveled in infamy. Staring at Hunter he thought over his own relationship, "I mean if you're not down for that then you're not down for it. Now's the time to get it out in the open if you two aren't on the same page about what you want." To him sex was sex, love was reserved now solely for Eagan, but that had been agreed on by them.

Drumming his fingers on his leg he shook his head, "Look dude, Val's been through more shit before we even graduated than most people go through in a lifetime. You can cut her a little slack for not wanting to fuck up a friendship." He'd been in the same boat after all. He held out the flask towards Hunter after taking another quick sip. "You sound... disappointed? Do you want dudes to hit on you or something?" The question was genuine. For the most part Mo would say he was straight, but lately he'd been thinking it over.

Hunter again gave a half-assed shrug. "That's what happens in small towns. It's basically a real life version of the internet: everyone knows each others fucking business and nothing stays private for more the three minutes." That's why he always preferred the cities, enough space to be what you wanted without scrutinisation unless you specifically put yourself into those scenarios. But here Hunter didn't have the luxury of knowing people, or having those same people to fall back on when shit got tough. Sure he'd tough it out himself, he'd had to build up a thick skin, but people would happily jump to his defense on his behalf. Here, he was flying completely solo, and it seemed each day there were more and more things being thrown at him to knock him off course. "I'm not down for that. That ain't how a fucking relationship is supposed to work. You're supposed to be someone's everything." Hunter Hilton the romantic, who would have thought it. "Yeah well, she seemed pissed so I'm gonna leave her to it. She knows where to find me when she's not with her other boyfriend."

Hunter debated taking a drink, but finally opted to take the flask, knocking back a considerable swig of whatever it was in there. "Yeah I'm fucking disappointed. You know what it's like to turn up somewhere where nobody thinks you're hot? When people are making all kinds of thirty content online. And fucking Liam making it sound like no one would wanna fuck me, I'm a fucking catch dude. Like people would be fucking lucky to get a fucking kiss out of me, let alone sleep with me. But I don't understand why people here don't find me hot..."

Mo hardly remembered the Internet, but if that was what it was like maybe it was for the best. His jaw clenched harder at Hunter's thoughts on relationships. "Maybe it's not for you, but it works for other people. I mean hell dude, Eagan is everything to me. I'd go fucking insane without her, but we're on the same page about keeping things open for sex." If it didn't work Hunter that was his right, but they hated how condescending it sounded over all. He was gripping his knee and shook his head, "So that's it then? You're just gonna ignore her now?"

Taking the flask back Mo took his own swing before stuffing it on his belt. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to hold his breath to relax but it came out in a huff. "Dude don't take this the wrong way, but you have a habit of trying to piss people off. You know if you're nicer I'm sure plenty of people would be down to fuck." His brow furrowed as he stared at Hunter, "So what Liam some guy you crushing on or something? Cause I know a couple guys who would be up for hooking up." Knightley would say Hunter was too young he mused, but Xander would likely be up for the bit of snagging an influencer. Though Lonnie had wanted to get into the gossip column he thought idly. "Just cause you're hot doesn't mean people want you if you act like a dick. It's suppose to be in your pants not in your personality."

The whole concept was weird as far as Hunter was concerned, definitely not something that worked for him and evidently he wasn't afraid to voice that opinion, a trait which thus far in life seemed to continually get him into trouble. "Well fuck man, maybe this shit is just a small town thing. Everyone in everyone's business literally, that's how the gossip column is so fucking stacked man, because everyone fucking already knows it." Was it really so wrong to want to be with the girl he liked without having to share her with other guys? Was his sex good enough for her to come back for but not good enough to want to stay with? "Fuck off, I ain't ignoring her. I'm giving her space. That's what you're supposed to do when a woman is pissed at you."

Hunter didn't get chance to take another drink before Mo had taken it back, and he just let out a disgruntled huff, leaning forwards so his elbows rested on his exposed knees. "No offense taken," he managed to bring out a chuckle; pissing people off had become Hunter's entire brand to the point it may as well be a personality trait, "but I don't want to fuck. Me and Val were doing fine." And then Liam's name was brought back and Hunter stood from the bench swiftly and defensively, "I do not have a crush on Liam of all fucking people. He started a fucking fight with me, then started to blame it on me and telling people I was pissed because he rejected me, and that I'm 'desperate' for his dick in me. Well news-fucking-flash, I don't wanna be some loser bottom for Liam." He folded his arms tightly across his chest, more toilet paper crunkling and falling from his body. "Besides, I'm always nice to people I wanna sleep with, so thats a shitty point to be making."

"Giving her space or running off cause she gave you an answer you didn't want?" Mo snapped, they were going in circles a bit and his own frustration was starting to show. He didn't think Val had done anything wrong, should she have been a bit more honest? Maybe, but it was also on Hunter to have communicated what he was looking for. "Look you both had different expectations for what you wanted this to be. You want actual advice maybe get it all out in the open and listen to how she's feeling before getting pissy someone isn't doing exactly what you want."

When Hunter jumps to his feet, Mo does at well not liking the look on the other guy's face. It took a minute for the name to click, he'd been drunk at Val's party but he remembered now. The guy was a new dad, and friends with Val. "Dude you sound way too hung up on a guy you just got in a fight with. A guy whose also friends with Val by the way, he was at her birthday party and everything." Shaking their head they stared at Hunter, "Like you can just ignore the guy, he's a new dad anyways. Pretty sure he's got better things to do than to keep telling people you're into him or whatever."

"I'm not fucking running off," Hunter was equally quick to snap back, frustrated at how much Mo was seeming to fight against him. Mo was supposed to be his friend, he was supposed to be helping him, supporting him, not questioning every other word that came out of Hunter's mouth. "Dude, it is out in the open, I did fucking listen, and I'm not being pissy...but I see what's going on here." A sudden realisation on Hunter's part. "Staff in this place obviously gonna stick together, to you guys guests just come and go, and I'm just another guest to you guys."

That was a thought that stung, but he swallowed that down and stood firm. "Oh yeah, the fucking birthday party, how could I forget, oh wait, because I wasn't fucking there." Now that still stung. He understood Val's reasons given the shit that just happened with Liam, and sure he got Val all to himself the next day, but instead of being at the barbeque with the few people he had come to call friends, he had been alone. "Well whoever the fuck decided to sleep with him needs their fucking brain tested, and you say he's got better things to do but he clearly doesn't when he keeps trying to fuck with my life."

Staff. For fuck sakes Mo was starting to regret playing along, but the guilt that Hunter could get actually hurt or worse had been too strong since he met him. Was he annoying and aggravating sure, but he was still just some guy who's come to the wrong town. That didn't mean he deserved to kick the bucket. "Dude if this was about staff sticking together I wouldn't be over here shooting the shit about it with you." What was it Knightley said about being a neutral observer or some shit? Yeah that sucked he didn't get how that worked outside of medicine. They did genuinely feel bad for Hunter, he didn't seem to have anyone in his corner. And while it was mostly his own fault, it just seemed so damn lonely. Even when he'd been at his lowest he still had his family, still had Eagan.

Mo briefly grimaced, right he'd talked about it with Val, she'd come frequently enough to talk it over. Him with his Eagan situationship and her romantic choose your own adventure drama. "You don't think she wanted you there? Come on dude it wasn't just Liam, I know you had beef with Cyan or something. That rune stunt didn't win you any favors either," he has to keep his temper in check briefly holding his breath. One of the runes he'd tried to fuck with had been Eagan's, it was only the fact that she chased him off before any actual damage could be done that had kept him from losing it. That and he did feel partly responsible for telling him about the runes in the first place. "You ever think about just burying the hatchet with those dudes? Just as Hunter man, not whatever Internet thing you got or had going on," he said. Val had said there was more to Hunter than what he showed most people, and he did believe that, he'd seen glimpses of it here and there. He frowned at the follow up comments, "You got in one fight, the hell else he done to you? You act like people are out to get you here."

“Exactly,” Hunter clicked at the air and pointed in Mo’s direction, “if it was a staff vs guests thing, you wouldn’t be talking to me about this shit. Which shows you’re actually a decent friend. Shows you care about me enough to not want me to get hurt!” It all rationalized so well in Hunter’s head that the clear disconnect that seemed to be happening was throwing him off a little.

“Cyan is…different. But he doesn’t go out of his fucking way to fucking antagonize me. How do you know about all that shit anyway?” Had Liam been talking to them all about Hunter’s life before the town, all the internet beef he had with people. Had Val told them all?! “Dude the rune shit was funny as fuck, never seen so many people freak out over some fucking graffiti on a door. People seriously need to lighten the fuck up.” Seriously he couldn’t have been the only person to mess with the runes since this place opened? “Fuck no. I’m only being nice to Cyan ‘cause he’s fixing my phone. Liam can fuck himself, take his freak baby and that fucking weird Lennon bastard and go wander into the woods with the ghosts for all I care.”

Mo blinked staring at Hunter's hand in front of him, he wasn't sure whether to laugh or not. At this point Hunter's way of making everything make sense to his point of view was borderline insane to them. "If I wanted you to get hurt I'd let you walk out at night or just best your ass myself," jury was still out on that last one. "I know Cyan too dude, we got stuck together during the storm. He was having a rough time," somehow that had turned into him being invited to hang out with him and his crew. He already knew a few of them, like Val or Wren, becoming actual friends with Cyan hadn't been the plan that night but he wasn't complaining. His jaw clenched and he glanced away seeing that hay ride again. How long Hunter could go before the truth hit him in the face he had no idea. Though he was starting to wonder if it ever would at this rate. Shaking his head he looked back at Hunter, his fist had moved before he could even think. Catching the other guy on the jaw, moving back he shook his hand out.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Some dude calls you gay so you say he and his kids should just fucking die? Those babies aren't even a year old dude," he snapped, "You know what? Dude wake the fuck up. I played along for way too long, I'm not some fucking paid actor. You said I'm your friend, so if I need to beat some fucking sense for you to get it through your head that this shit is real then fine." His fists had balled up at his side as he glared at Hunter, "Like what's it gonna take for you to realize this ain't some fucking theme park? Your rune stunt could have gotten someone killed, we already lost a whole family cause someone fucked with a door at the beginning of the year." Eagan, Val, and Cyan run through his head. "You know Val had to report in she found someone dead in the woods? Our old teacher went next. You even give a shit how much that hurt her?"

"You couldn't best me ass if your fucking life depended on it," cocky until the bitter end was Hunter Hilton. Considering Liam had just beaten his ass, there wasn't much doubt that Mo could probably do the same too. Fuck, he really needed self-defence lessons or fight practise or something. He couldn't be known as the one constantly getting clocked in the jaw. "Yeah but you don't know him like I know him. The Cyan he is here isn't the Cyan he is out there. He's like me, no matter how much he denies it, we're the fucking same." No new town, or new business or new baby would change that.

Hunter took in a sharp breath, ready to unleash another tirade of abuse out into the universe about Liam and how he was a waste of space when his speech was cut short by the sudden motion to his jaw. He stumbled back, disorientated, confused, landing once again on his ass, hand coming up to clutch at where he had been hit. "Are for fucking real?" He looked up at Mo, this glittering of betrayal in his eyes, "sick bastard can say he wishes I was dead but I can't fucking say the same?!" It was petty sure, but that was how Hunter worked, but Mo doing this hadn't been anticipated at all. He was always so chill...but now. "Nah y'know what, fuck the lot of you," he pushed himself to his feet, swaying a little as he regained his balance and his composure and his pride. "Enjoy your fucking game of besties. Sick fucks. Fuck Cyan. Fuck Liam. Fuck Val, and-" he paused, not wanting to say it as he looked over the guy who was supposed to be his best friend here, "-and fuck you Mo. We're fucking done."

#viral video: hunter #event: pumpkin festival #//whelp i got fucking uno reversed

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guessghost · 11 months

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FINALLY DONE

I FINALLY FINISHED EMMA!!!! THIS IS THE LONGEST HARDEST BOOK I HAVE EVER READ. OMG! I WENT TO ALASKA AND TOLD MYSELF IF I FINISH THIS I COULD READ PERCY JACKSON AND I DID IT. I FINSIHED EMMA BY JANE AUSTEN!!!

(this might be a long post, just letting y'all know in case you wanna scroll by, yes tldr at bottom)

on a side note i did make a lot of promises about doing chapter reviews and whatnot but lemme just get into it:

while overall a good book, for me personally it was really difficult to read and understand. this may be because i am getting back into reading. granted it probably didn't help that i was trying to write my thoughts w a pen in the margins causing me to also underline almost every page making it harder and longer to read. at one point i had to stop cause it wasn't helping and turned to audiobooks to help me finish this book. and tbh it really helped (me at least).

i see why the book was the way it was but lowkey i am kinda confused as to the plot and why it was written in such a long roundabout way. my guess is that it was jane austen's writing style, which is p cool and interesting as it is the first i had seen of that kind, or thats the way things were done back then. or maybe it was to worldbuild and characterbuild. idk. i kinda need to sparknotes it all.

also i thought emma's sudden attraction to knightley was sudden, but not shocking, after all she spent most of the book not wanting to marry and to set others up so to me it was like hmmm, but it did make the pacing of the book pick up a little.

I liked the characters and the story overall though. i think at the end of the day the thing that made it hard for me to read was the way and style in which it was written and it was frustrating to me that i was unable to grasp it at all the first time i would read it or if i did i was relying alot on context clues and hoping i was interpreting things correctly. i think that's also what made me dislike the book even though in terms of literature or just a regular book its p good.

idk i think i have more thoughts but its late and im tired so maybe ill get to it some other time so

tldr; i liked book, glad i finsihed it, but it made me v frustrated that I couldn't understand it well alot

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charmed-henry · 2 years

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Coming-of-Age, Come And Gone | Henrose

Date: 11 August 2022, late night Featuring: @thehuntress-rose Warnings: Mentions of blood, major injury, medical/stitches

Henry visits Rose in the hospital and breaks some news to her. They come to a realization— and make a promise.

HENRY

Rose was alive, and that was all that really mattered right now. The Order had fallen, the Knightley home burned to the ground, Augusta was talking to the police, Henry would do the same soon too, his whole family was somewhere in the Balkans, Eric was dead, Ashleigh didn’t love him, Candace and Pacifica and Ollie would have so many questions, and yet— Rose was alive. And that was all that really mattered right now.

Because there had been a moment when Henry had really thought she was dead. When Henry thought he had finally done it— he had failed another friend, left her to die at the Order’s hands, and even all the ways he had changed wouldn’t be enough. He made the same mistakes and suffered the same consequences.

But they told him Rose was alive, and as soon as Henry was allowed, he rushed to her side. She was resting, and Henry didn’t disturb her— he just hoped she would wake up soon.

ROSE

During her slumber; Rose saw red and silver and fire. She heard Phil and that werewolf, Toulouse Bonfamille. She heard Henry. Everything whirled together in her state of limbo. Time didn’t pass, it didn’t even exist. Rose didn’t feel fear or pain as soon as she slipped into unconsciousness in the cobblestone walls of Thornwood Hall. She just felt peace amongst the chaos.

Rose’s eyes fluttered open and she winced away from the fluorescent lights of the hospital room. It was a stark contrast from the darkness she’d been in for some time. There was a constant beeping, which she could only assume was her tired heart. She was alive despite all odds and wearing a tacky hospital gown dozens had worn before her. The girl glanced around the room, gauging where she was. Henry sat on one of those notoriously uncomfortable chairs merely inches from her bed. She wondered how long he’d been there. Who else came to grieve? Her friend looked worse for wear with his under eyes darkened and a seemingly permanent frown.

Rose muttered out a hoarse, “Well, you look like shit,” and tried to sit up. She let out a groan in discomfort as she did so. The hole in her abdomen was patched up, but the muscles were still tense and weak from the trauma. Still, even in her state, Rose would always try to make a joke out of a terrible situation.

HENRY

Henry opened his mouth to protest, on instinct— and then he stopped, because Rose was alive, and she was talking to him, and she was making fun of him, and there was something bursting open in his chest now, filling him with a new lightness. He looked like shit, Rose looked like shit, they both looked like shit. But they were here.

He laughed, because it was kind of funny and also because he was just so relieved, and maybe a little amazed. It still kept hitting him. Rose, alive.

Of course, another thing hit him in that moment. Rose was alive, but they didn’t have much time left together. Soon, Henry would go back to the investigators like he had promised to, like he was legally obligated to. He would tell them everything he knew. And then his fate was in their hands, and he might not see Rose again— at least, not like this— for years.

He didn’t have to think about that just yet, though, right?

“I’ll work on that,” he said, amused. “Though I think you ought to look in a mirror yourself.” He said it gently, teasing without really meaning it, different from the defensive tone he might have taken under other circumstances.

He scooted his chair closer to the hospital bed. “I’m, erm— it’s good that you’re feeling a bit better. I was… worried.”

ROSE

She smiled despite everything. Her jokes didn’t always land (because they were always inappropriately timed) and she wasn’t sure if he was only humoring her because she almost died, but she’d take it. Waking up to the one person she’d allow to see her like this, so vulnerable and human, almost made her forget about what landed her here. The smile faded. Rose looked down to her clothed abdomen where she laid a hand over where the sword pierced her. It felt sore and tender still. The phantom shock of the sword ripped through her, Rose remembered exactly how it felt. And she wondered, if she nearly died… what else happened. Did they win? Did Thornwood Hall turn to ash like the wizard said? Did everyone make it out?

She looked up at Henry, “You don’t need to worry about me.” The worst ones always make it out okay, she thought. “Is… is everyone else okay? Is it…?” over? The unasked question lingered between them.

HENRY

“It’s all over. Everyone’s okay. We won, Rose,” Henry said, smiling, a strange shine in his eyes like he knew he was supposed to be happier about this. He was happy, he supposed, that everyone had made it out alive. That he no longer had to worry about the Order coming after him or anyone he loved.

But everything came with a cost. And even if Henry had turned on the Order and done his best to try and avenge Eric, it didn’t change all of the terrible things he had done and all of the terrible things he had enabled. So if there was someone to bear the cost of the victory, Henry knew it had to be him.

He was dreading this moment, but how much longer could Henry put it off? He didn’t know how much time they would let him have with Rose, and he had to tell her himself. It felt important.

“Rose… there’s something you should know,” Henry said, swallowing hard and leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. “And promise you won’t try to change my mind about it. I’ve already decided.”

ROSE

The words filled a void she’d felt for years. It was a guilt she hid away in the pit of her stomach every time she followed through on a mission for ‘the greater good.’ Rose let her eyes close in triumph. The Order was gone, the Huntsclan would hear of her betrayal and mortal wound and mark her as inactive. The RAS would work out a deal for them so that in time they could repent for the sins they committed in the name of their fathers. The cage Rose was confined in was gone, Henry’s too. They were free to do whatever they wanted, she didn’t have to marry some prince who… was probably dead now. Henry and Rose made it out alive, they had a future that wasn’t colored red with bloodshed.

Then the pit opened wide once again. Henry’s tone shifted. It wasn’t light, relieved, or humorous anymore. Rose opened her eyes and they were swimming with dread as she looked at him. “I can’t promise you anything…” she shook her head.

“If you’ve already decided it, then whatever I say doesn’t matter, right?”

HENRY

Henry sighed and shook his head. He trusted Rose as his comrade, as his fellow soldier, but mostly– as his friend. She was smart and strategic, and she also knew things about Henry that most people didn’t know. She understood things about him that nobody else could, simply because they’d grown up in parallel worlds, similar only in all the ways that mattered. For almost anything, he would at least have considered her advice.

But in this case, he knew that she would insist he take the deal. And that was what Henry wanted to do, but that was precisely why Henry wouldn’t do it. He had been selfish for long enough. Someone had to pay for his family’s crimes. And if everyone else was going to run, well, Henry supposed it would have to be him.

“They’ve offered me a deal, Rose. These people who work for– I’m not sure, it’s some kind of agency, I think. I’m sure they’ll offer you the same one, so I won’t get into the details of it, you’ll hear it soon enough. But the point is that they want to help me get out of going to prison.” Henry steeled himself. Saying it out loud would make it real. There was no turning back, even if he was scared.

He looked at her for a moment and then tore his gaze away, too scared and ashamed to look her in the eyes. “I’m not going to take it, Rose. I can’t.”

ROSE

And then the pit swallowed her whole. As she fell into it, she realized that it not only housed her guilt; but her grief, and despair, and that feeling when you leave your childhood home for the last time knowing you’ll never see it again. The hope she felt waking up in a world where she wasn’t the Huntsgirl vanished.

Rose lost her home. She lost her family. But it didn’t matter because she’d trade it for a new life, a life she could have now. But she didn’t want it without Henry. Every time she imagined living a normal life, he was there next to her. They would go to museums and hang out with their friends and life would be good. No more thoughts of inferiority, no more weight of a father’s disappointment. The trauma they shared would be past, and their present and future would be something they made together. Rose couldn’t imagine her life without him anymore.

Did it take two years or two minutes to realize just how much she needed him? Her face expressed confusion and hurt and everything in between as she stuttered out, “Wh— why? Why wouldn’t you take it, Henry? We have the chance to be free of all this, and you’re just gonna leave me? You can’t. You can’t leave me here, I don’t know how I’m supposed to be— I don’t know what I’m gonna do without—“

HENRY

Maybe, Henry thought, he shouldn’t have told her. She had been through so much, mentally and physically, and he shouldn’t have upset her. Maybe Henry could have lied. Told her that they didn’t offer him the deal in the first place, that he didn’t have a choice. Maybe it would hurt her less.

But Henry couldn’t lie to Rose. He had done enough lying these past years to last a lifetime. He especially couldn’t lie to Rose, who had every right to be angry with him now. Wasn’t he supposed to be choosing what was right over what he, selfishly, wanted? So of course he had to be honest with her. Even if it hurt.

“Rose, I’m sorry—“ Henry said, reaching for her hand to steady her. He took a deep breath. “Rose… I promise, it’s not— you’ll be fine without me. You will.” He smiled, even though he really didn’t feel like smiling at all. Tears welled up in his eyes. He squeezed her hand.

“There are things— do you know what my dad used to do for a living? He would get people out of going to jail. Bad people. Murderers and thieves and— not desperate people who had to resort to that, rich people who could buy their way out of consequences if they wanted to. If he were here now, I guarantee he would have gotten me out of this. Because I’m exactly his clientele. I’ve… I’ve killed—“

Henry squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to talk about this, but Rose had to know. “Not just Eric. There are others who are dead because of me, because I was selfish and cowardly and— and there would have been more, if not for— other factors.” He thought of Ashleigh. But he still couldn’t tell her secret.

“You’re not like me, Rose. You’re better. You deserve this. I don’t. I’ve got to pay for what I’ve done. For what my family has done for decades. If they’re not going to face consequences, someone’s got to.”

ROSE

Rose bit her lip and forced the tears that were starting to hold until it wasn’t physically possible anymore. She blurted out, letting them go and clutching his hand like it was what kept her heart beating, “We’re all killers, Henry!”

A ragged breath cut between her words, “I’m not any more deserving of forgiveness than you. We’re the same. Our fathers raised us to be what we are, they told us monsters were real and we had to kill them. They just left out the part that doing that makes you one in the process! We’re the same!”

She had never said words like this out loud. She never cried like this in front of someone before. It felt too raw and real and overwhelming. The heaving in her chest pulled at her wound, sending a piercing pain up to her heart. Or was that just heartbreak? The monitor beeps picked up as she continued, clutching her own chest, “We’ve all killed someone we loved, by accident or not. But just because worse men have not had to pay, it doesn’t mean you have to pick up the tab.”

“Fuck ‘em. We can be happy,” she added meekly as she came down from her brief hysteria.

HENRY

Rose was crying hard, now, struggling for breath. It hurt to witness. Something feral and entirely inappropriate in Henry wanted to crawl over next to Rose and put his arms around her, to tell her it would be okay, to make it okay. But he couldn’t. Partially because that would be entirely inappropriate, Henry told himself, and partially because he couldn’t make it okay. Because he was the reason Rose was crying. And the only thing that would make it okay was if he did what she wanted him to do.

And Henry couldn’t do that. He couldn’t do what she wanted him to do. Because it was what he wanted to do, too– he wanted to do this program with Rose, to face the world knowing he wasn’t the only one, to be there for her and let her be there for him. He wanted… he wanted…

What Henry wanted had only ever gotten him in trouble. His desire was a monstrous and destructive thing. The rest of the world needed to be protected from it.

He shook his head. “You will be happy,” he said softly, emotion welling up again as he imagined her life the way it could go without him. Rose, ordering takeaway with Pacifica or going to the movies with Candy. Rose, beating Phil at Scrabble and lording it over everyone for the rest of the night. Rose, getting a job, buying a house, adopting a bunch more dogs, meeting some faceless guy and falling in love with him (and why did that make Henry ache?)

Rose, finally free of the Huntsclan’s hold on her life. Henry was happy for her. He wanted that life for her. But he knew he couldn’t have it.

“You were always braver than me,” he added. “When we were going after the lake monster, it was you and Eric who didn’t want to kill it. I did, because I was scared. I was so frustrated with you, but now I see. It’s who you are.” Tears sparkled in Henry’s eyes.

ROSE Rose was so tired. She didn’t have it in her to fight anymore. Whether it be a vampire, a demon, or the boy in front of her. There was something so exhausting about arguing with someone she loved, someone just as stubborn as her. Maybe if her body wasn’t so weak from healing, Rose would have continued to fight him on it. But now she just looked at the clock and back to Henry.

She bitterly didn’t want to be happy. She didn’t want to be brave, not if she had to brave a new world without him. It was selfish of her to want him to stay on her behalf though. If it cleared his conscience and things could go back to the way they were… maybe it was for the best. Rose couldn’t make herself believe that. She still wanted to be selfish.

Rose recalled the night on the row boat with Eric, the black water and the mermaids. “I was scared too, but not that it would hurt other people if we let it go… but that it would hurt you if we didn’t.”

She looked back to the clock and it had only been a few seconds but she felt like time was running out. Time was running out and she had so much more to say with no idea of how. How was she supposed to express this yearning for a bond they already had? She wanted him to stay and be her friend, but her heart ached for something more. She couldn’t put it into words or even wrap her mind around it. So instead she just asked, “How much time do we have left?”

HENRY

Henry frowned at that. What did Rose mean? That she had only gone out on the lake that night because of Henry?

It was a sobering thought. It had been a dangerous mission. Eric had almost died. And in retrospect, Henry wished he hadn’t asked his friends to come with him at all. But Rose had come anyway, and it didn’t have anything to do with protecting the town, it was just… him?

How many times, though, had Rose done ridiculous and illogical things because Henry had asked her to? Or sometimes he hadn’t even asked her, she’d just done it anyway. Sometimes it was perfect. Fighting with mini golf clubs on that yacht over spring break last year. Indulging Henry’s Eurovision obsession. Making room for him in the group Halloween costume when his original plan fell through.

He was really going to miss those things, Henry thought achingly.

But it was for the best. That night on the lake was proof of it. Rose had put herself in terrible danger because of Henry, and now they were both in such a fragile place, and Henry didn’t trust himself not to lead her somewhere dangerous again. Never intentionally, of course– but Henry never intended any of this, for any of these people to be hurt by him, and it happened anyway.

“I don’t know. Not long,” Henry said quietly, looking down at his hands and then up at her again. “Rose, I–”

What? What did he want to say?

What did you say when you thought you saw someone die, and they were right in front of you, alive, and you couldn’t do the one thing they were asking you to do? What did you say when that person happened to be Rose, who was fierce and and wickedly funny and brave even when she was scared, who was sometimes terrifying and sometimes tender and always beautiful, who would probably tell Henry off if she knew he had thought that and somehow still the thought made him smile– but he didn’t really mean it, right? Maybe he did. Whatever it meant.

Anyway, it wouldn’t matter. Rose would move on with her life and meet people who were good for her.

He took a deep breath and offered a small, sad smile. “I just think you should know that I– I think you’re really bloody brilliant. I’ve… always really quite admired you, Rose, even if I’ve been– well, you know. I think you’re going to do brilliant things now that your time isn’t going to be taken up with my nonsense. Or any of this nonsense. So I want to hear about it, alright?”

ROSE

Rose didn’t know if ‘not long’ meant minutes or hours. Days or weeks, nothing would be as long as she wanted. Because the years she wanted to spend with him, he’d be wasting away. She would too, but in an entirely different cage.

How poetic, to escape one and end up in another.

She smiled sadly back at Henry. Rose didn’t deserve any praise, any hope. Still, she fiddled with his fingertips with her own and reassured, “I’ll tell you everything, I promise.”

Rose had broken so many promises and oaths lately, she lost count. But in this hospital room, just the two of them, this was a promise that mattered. She wanted to paint a picture of how she felt about him, but art was never her thing. It was his. He was better with words and feelings and expressions. Rose fumbled over soft topics like heartbreaks, and loss. She wanted to say that after all this time she thought she understood what she felt about him. It was silent and subtle. Unassuming, even. Two years ago, he was just a boy she met in class. Then, he was an ally when she had so few. A friend who could see behind the veil they both wore in front of everyone else. The veil shrouded them from the world and maybe something else bloomed behind it. Something more than a kinship forged in bloodshed. Rose never trusted the people she fought with until Henry was at her side. That level of comfort made her stomach twist now. Facing it felt like losing an extension of herself.

After her long pause of grasping for words that weren’t ‘I love you, don’t leave,’ Rose said, “I don’t know how to miss you… I’m not ready to.”

HENRY

In that long silence, Henry didn’t look away. It was as though Rose was saying something without saying anything– but that was what had always made them a good team, wasn’t it? That they could follow each other’s cues, that they didn’t really need words.

Words were supposed to be Henry’s thing. He was romantic and melodramatic and overly sentimental, and what he lacked in pragmatism or practicality he made up for in flowery language. Just like the bumbling knight he had been from that silly dream. But both in the dream and in life, that particular quality was never really useful with Rose (Henry was beginning to wonder if it had ever been useful at all). Rose was no-nonsense, straight-to-the-point. She said what she meant.

And when she didn’t, that was where their silent language came in.

Henry didn’t know what she was saying in that particular silence, though. All he knew was that desire that wouldn’t go away, to reach for her and never let go.

“Neither am I,” he admitted. “Rose, I thought I’d lost you back there. I really did. And it made me realize…” Henry trailed off, words failing him again. “I don’t know what I’d do. I don’t know what I will do. It’s just– you’re important to me, Rose.”

ROSE

If losing me is so hard, then don’t do it. Stay. She wanted to scream. It seemed every time he shared a tender word she looped back through all the stages of grief, forever bargaining, forever angry, forever denying the truth.

She loved him and the minute she realized it was the very same he said he was leaving. Rose didn’t look away either. It was all she could do to express how much she cared that wasn’t screeching at the top of her lungs how stupid he was. “You won’t ever lose me, Henry. I’m far too stubborn to die.”

And then Rose did something uncharacteristic, something tender and brave in the way that Henry was. Something vulnerable. She scooted away from him, wincing and missing the warmth of his hand already, and patted the space she made. If he didn’t feel the same way, he’d still lay with her just to appease her at this point. At least, she hoped. “If you’re leaving me, I don’t want to be awake to watch you go. Can we just… lie down?”

Rose felt an ache in her chest and belly from the stress of this all. The pain medication took the edge off but the dull piercing still stung. She fought the haze she felt to stay with Henry, every moment counted when your time was limited.

HENRY

Henry was about to tell Rose not to move, not to irritate her injury, and then he realized what she was doing. Making room for him.

That urge he had pushed down was crawling back up again, and this time, Henry wasn’t sure he could fight it any longer. He wasn’t sure he should fight it any longer. He was leaving and Rose had almost died and nothing was ever guaranteed, and Henry was so tired and Rose had this strange look on her face Henry wasn’t sure he had seen before.

He glanced over his shoulder, but nobody was around. The curtains were drawn and the lights were dim and, for once in his life– maybe for the last time in his life– nobody was around. Nobody except Rose, and right now, that was all that mattered. The only thing holding Henry back was his own hesitation. But in forty-eight hours, he would be gone, and really, what did he have to lose?

“Okay,” he said softly.

Carefully, a bit awkwardly, trembling, Henry climbed over the side of the bed and tried to take up the least amount of space he could. It wasn’t very comfortable, but Henry supposed he should get used to uncomfortable beds. That wasn’t really the point of this, anyway.

Nervously, Henry turned to meet Rose’s eyes, and when he did, his hesitation disappeared. What was there to be afraid of? It was just Rose. The same Rose he’d always known, the same Rose who had saved his life and vice versa, too. The same Rose who teased him, who won and lost and cried with him. Like in a mirror, she looked different up close.

ROSE

Rose wasn’t surprised that he made himself as small as possible. It wasn’t a new trick he’d learned. She could see he was worried about her and her comfort, but she was never concerned with her own. She didn’t care if her stitches opened up and stained everything red between them. Because she felt like she was already an open wound, gushing all out of her stoic body. The huntress would willingly be stabbed again to just keep this moment with Henry on repeat.

She pushed his shoulder down to the pillow, forcing him to be more comfortable. Rose laid there, scared she was forcing him. She thought she selfishly wouldn’t care, but she did. She wanted Henry to want to hold her. The retired Huntsgirl was always bristled and sharp, and she melted away from physical affection in the past. It’s all she’s ever known. But now, she was declawed and yearned to be soft. “You have permission to do whatever, Henry, I’m not gonna stab you.”

HENRY

Henry smiled. It wasn’t that he thought she was going to stab him (now that would certainly irritate her injury, so he would hope not). He just suddenly felt… a little bit shy. It was one thing to grab someone’s arm to pull them down a corridor as you ran from a horde of men with swords. It was one thing to huddle close to someone as you crept through a secret passageway.

This was another thing entirely. There was nothing standing between them, even in a literal sense, Henry realized, as he inched the slightest bit closer.

And then a lock of blonde hair had fallen across Rose’s face, and for once, Henry gave in to his impulse and gently pushed it to the side, his heart seeming to beat impossibly loud now. His hand froze behind her ear. Had Rose’s eyes always been so blue? His stomach fluttered.

He blushed. “It was in your face,” Henry said, stating the obvious. And, well, there were other obvious things, too, that he was not stating.

ROSE

Her cheek tingled where his hand brushed it, and Rose felt a wave of heat rise to them. She moved a hand into the mess of her curly hair, feeling a rush of embarrassment. “Ah, my hair is probably so fucked up right now…”

Why did she care? Rose didn’t usually put stock into superficial things like that. And Henry has seen her looking much worse before. Well, this was a different type of low even for Rose. A single clock tick passed and Rose had a surge of impulsiveness. Henry’s soft brown eyes looking down at her willed her to spill her guts. She should just tell him everything now, because who knew when she would get a chance to again. Saying ‘I love you’ on the phone felt hollow. So, Rose blurted out, “When I thought I was dying, I thought about you. How I was scared but only because I didn’t want you to be alone… You know that I’ll be here when you come back, right?”

HENRY

Henry chuckled at the comment about her hair, which she never really worried about— at least that Henry knew of. It never looked like something she worried about, always in some sort of practical, easy style. But it always sort of caught the light, even in the dingy hospital room.

He sobered when she brought up what had happened at Thornwood, though. Henry remembered the way he had felt, then. He had thought, too, that he would be alone. But it wasn’t just about that.

“You don’t have to— you don’t have to wait for me,” Henry said quietly. “If you’re worried about me… I’ll be fine. I always have been. I was… honestly, I was devastated when I thought I’d lost you. I actually don’t think I have the words for it, I— well, I don’t have to get into it…”

Henry took a deep breath. “It wasn’t that I was afraid of being alone. It was… well, you.” Henry paused. “I couldn’t imagine… no you. So I guess the point of saying all that is— you don’t have to wait around for me. Unless you really want to.”

ROSE

“You’re the only person who sees me for what I am,” Rose admitted.

She spent decades hiding in scarier men’s shadows, until she had one of her own. It was all encompassing for a long time. The only other person she thought could see her in the darkness they shared was Tom, but a knight in shining armor was never what she needed. Rose wanted to settle in and get comfortable, and Tom gave her that for a time. But Rose didn’t need to be comfortable or stable, she needed to be seen. They always skirted around the horrible things they did and how their actions created a pit inside them. Henry saw the chasm Rose put between herself and everyone else around her. And then he built a bridge. It was the only thing Rose would never burn in her own wake.

“Now that it’s all over… I don’t think I’ll open that box again… you’re the only person who will ever know me, really know me. Henry, I–” her hand scrunched his shirt, “I want to. I’ll wait for you. I’ll call you. I’ll complain to you about whatever shitty job I have to get now that I don’t hunt mons–people, for money… It’ll be like you never left.” She swore with a resurgence of hope. They couldn’t keep him forever, in the end he did the right thing. They never keep the ones atoning forever. There was going to be a light at the end of this tunnel. Rose would make one if she had to, because they didn’t escape this cult with their lives only to be spending the rest of them apart. Rose leaned forward, keeping his gaze with a look of determination that was synonymous with her name.

HENRY

Henry wasn’t sure he agreed with that, completely. This was Rose. Brilliant Rose. Fierce, funny, clear-eyed Rose, who had a bigger heart than most people realized. Of course people were going to be there for her, even if they learned about her past. How couldn’t they be?

But she had a point. They had been through something together that nobody else would understand. And for the first time, hearing Rose talk about it, Henry could see a light at the end of everything. It would be hard, but they would make it through this. Maybe, finally, they could forgive themselves. And even if they couldn’t, they would still have each other.

They were inches apart now, and Rose was drawing even nearer. There was a determined look in her eyes. Henry recognized it, though it had never been directed at him before. It was, maybe, Henry thought, when she looked the most beautiful.

Henry gave the smallest nod.

And there were a lot of ways Henry could overthink that tiny thought that had popped into his head, and maybe he would later (he would have a lot of time to think later) but, for now, he was only thinking of the light at the end of this. He leaned forward and closed the space between them and, then, gently, he kissed her.

ROSE

Rose froze for a single moment, eyes welling with tears as their lips met. And then she closed them, letting the sensation move through her. It was a bittersweet, ache. The most satisfying, yearning quenched. Her hand raised up from his chest to his cheek, begging him to keep kissing her. But the moment was as fleeting as it was tender.

Rose pulled away and searched Henry’s eyes for something, a sign that this meant more than a goodbye. Was his heart beating as hard as hers? “Hen…,” Rose whispered breathlessly. She was speechless.

HENRY

Henry blinked. He couldn’t quite believe he’d done that. Maybe he should not have. He’d never really thought about his feelings toward Rose before, not when she was with Tom, not when he was with Ashleigh, but it all felt so strong now, a burning in his chest that was brighter than anything else he’d felt in these dull days ever since the battles with the Order began. Rose had always been his friend, had always been his comrade, but how had he never seen it before?

Maybe it was a mistake. He had to go now, it was beyond him at this point, and Henry no longer believed that love could conquer anything (if that was what this was, love). He couldn’t go back on his word. He had to see this through, the consequences of his choices. But perhaps…

Perhaps it would be like Rose had said. When he was free again, they would find each other again. And it would be like he had never left.

“Was that… alright?” Henry asked nervously. “I’m sorry, I’m making this harder, aren’t I? I… didn’t think it through. It’s just– it’s what I said. You’re important to me.”

ROSE

Rose never believed that love could conquer anything. Lovers were fools and destined to be unhappy. She was cynical when Henry was always the one who spouted off silly professions of love and persevering. She had seen love lost, and she guessed after that Rose stopped finding the good in being so weak. Henry made her weak, and that was okay.

“Nothing you say or do can make this any harder.” It was already too hard. Rose ran her thumb along the days old stubble on his jaw and kissed him again. Her eyes felt heavy when she closed them, her heartbeat was loud but steady. Rose was fading again, but she wanted to fight it. She wanted to savor each second she had to just be with Henry.

The clock was ticking, but she laid her head on his shoulder and just reveled in the warmth. “I’m sorry, too. You’ve always meant so much to me, and I never even thought about it like this. You were just my person. I didn’t think I would— well, I’m just sorry, too.”

HENRY

A moment ago, Henry had been cautious and uncertain, kissing Rose on a whim and fearing that he’d ruined everything– but now it felt like the most normal thing. Maybe it was because everything else was so uncertain. By comparison, this made perfect sense.

And why wouldn’t it, Henry thought, reaching an arm around Rose’s shoulders cautiously, careful not to move her too much or pull at the stitches. They had been so many things to each other– first classmates, then friends, fellow soldiers, and– well, whatever this was going to be. For once in his life, Henry had no idea what would come next. At least this new thing between them– it was one good thing Henry had.

“No, don’t be sorry,” Henry said, leaning his head on hers. “Let’s just– we don’t have to overthink it. Goodness knows I’ll have plenty of time for that.” He chuckled to himself. “Let’s just… be here a bit longer. Before I have to go.”

Eventually, he would have to leave the hospital. Eventually, he would make his way back to his house and get his passport and give it to Belle, and eventually the authorities would come for him, and eventually he would be gone. But right now, he could only see light. The light Rose had talked about, at the end of the tunnel or whatever else they were calling what loomed ahead.

The end was looming, but, Henry thought absently, gently tracing Rose’s shoulder with his thumb, this really felt more like a beginning.

#rose #coming of age come and gone #i feel like in the tradition of this thread all i can say is #kjshfklajsfhalfsjdhaslfj #otp the battle of scream and cry #<3

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knightley--phillip · 2 years

Text

The Fall of Rome: A Battle of Fire and Family [Part One: The Blood You Owe]

Fool me once, fool me twice Are you death or paradise? Now you'll never see me cry

There's just no time to die

In which Phillip, Rose, and the rest of the defectors rally one last time... [takes place Aug. 11]

@thehuntress-rose @lou-bonfightme

[tw: violence, gore, fire, major character death]

PHILLIP: As a writer, Phillip appreciated the irony.

Here he was, standing in front of his family’s house, sword in his hand — just like he had done as a little boy. Except he wasn’t here to protect his family, to bring them glory or victory. He was here to end them, end their reign of terror, end everything that they stood for.

Once upon a time, Phillip had been a little boy who loved his family and wanted to be a brave prince like the ones in stories.

Now, Phillip was a grown man, who still loved his family — he just knew that they were wrong now, and because he’d turned his back on everything they’d taught him, everything the Knightleys had known for generations and generations, they now hated him.

(Sometimes, at night, he could still hear the crack of Percival’s neck as Howl stood over his dead body; and when that became too much to bear, he remembered Percival raising a sword over his head, ready to kill him without a moment’s hesitation).

Phillip looked at the dark stone walls of Thornwood Hall, at the dark clouds rolling in the distance, and he gripped his sword tighter.

This was it. This was the end. Those who remained loyal to the Order hunkered down in the halls of Phillip’s childhood home. Maybe they used the grand piano as a barricade. Maybe they took the stacks of books Phil had left behind and burned them. Maybe they ransacked the artwork his mother had lovingly collected, claiming dibs on it for when they won this battle.

But they wouldn’t win. They couldn’t win.

“Are you ready?” he said to Rose, who just so happened to be the person next to him. And for that, he was thankful — he didn’t know if his heart could bear it if he faced his brothers or his father with Tom or John at his side.

He waited for the signal, before they were to storm into the house and put an end to this once and for all.

ROSE: The question in Rose’s mind wasn’t if she was ready or not. It was if Phil could handle this, battling in his home, burning it down if it came to that. The people she fought with had all agreed the Order had to be felled like Titans, back to the pits of Tartarus. And they were the ill made gods that had to do it. Much like the pantheon, it all came down to fighting against their family, flesh and blood. Phil and the distance rumble of thunder brought Rose out of her thoughts. Maybe Zeus was on their side.

“Are you?” Rose retorted, almost defensively. She was so used to Order men checking in on her as if she needed their coddling. “Sorry,” she softened, realizing Phil meant no disrespect.

She took a breath and scanned the exterior of the manor. He grew up here. With his brothers and Rosie, a girl he’d only mentioned in passing. He’d said she reminded him of her once. And just like Rose’s grip on her sword, it was delicate.

“Yeah… I’m ready. Just think,” she looked sincerely at Phil now, “it ends here. Whatever the cost, we’re ending it. We’re making a difference.”

PHILLIP: “It ends here,” Phillip repeated.

He did not have time to process the rest of what Rose said — the cost, the loss of his family, of everything he stood for, of everything he had known, the cost of it all. Thankfully, he did not have time to think about that, because John gave the signal and at once, they crept forward.

The Order was down to its last few good men, Phillip’s father among them. That is why they gathered here at Thornwood Hall, barricading themselves in its stone walls. And that was why Phillip and John and Thomas and the rest of their allies had to burn it all down. For it wasn’t just men that the Order hid away, but their titles and deeds and precious relics and weapons. It all needed to go down, every last bit of the Order’s legacy.

Phillip slipped past John, because he knew a way in the house that even his father did not, an old servants’ entrance nestled behind some rose bushes. Phillip used to use it to bring girls home. Now, he was leading a battalion to destroy his childhood home.

If the Order had already spotted them, they were being quiet. Phillip ushered the others forward into the hallway, which led into the kitchens. Once they were in, it was time to split up and do what they came here to do. Everyone filed off — except for Rose.

Phillip nodded at her. The lighter in his pocket — one that Howl had enchanted to burn an even stronger flame — felt like it was red hot. He reached for it and lit it, the flame catching onto nothingness, just as Howl had promised. Phillip couldn’t look at it for too long. The smell already made his throat close up.

Instead, he gestured to Rose and the two of them made their way upstairs. Just as they reached the top step, an arrow whizzed past Phillip’s shoulder.

“Is that the best you've got?” he sneered, raising his sword and standing in front of Rose.

ROSE: The arrow clattered down the stairs behind them and Rose rolled her eyes dramatically, “I knew I should have brought my fucking bow.”

She pulled her sword out of its sheath and held it aloft in front of her, careful not to swipe Phil with it. The white reflection of the clouded daylight against the steel shone across the stone walls. Rose scanned her environment with haste, the assailant was further down the hall, but there were too many rooms to search while being shot at. She counted at least four alcoved doorways. “You take that asshat, I’ll search the rooms?”

Rose moved from behind her partner and made for the closest alcove for cover. Another arrow bounced off the wall mere inches from her face. The blonde ducked and pressed herself against the door, fumbling for the handle while keeping her eyes up towards the enemy and Phil. When her hand found purchase, she turned the knob and nodded at Phil, pushing the door open with her backwards force.

PHILLIP:

Y’know, when Belle and Hades made them sign that whole blood oath not to kill anyway, they really should’ve been more forward thinking when it came to their eventual plans to take down the Order. That was a joke. Phillip was coping. Besides, Phillip didn’t necessarily want to kill whoever it was shooting at him through a hallway — he just wanted to knock the bow out of their hands and then knock them in the head.

Another arrow flew towards him, though this time it bounced off the metal plating of his shoulder with a thud. Phil groaned, but this was good — he could tell where the person was shooting from. It must be from the hallway above, probably that one corner with the marble statue. They probably did not have a great view of Phillip, which worked to his advantage.

He slipped out of their vantage point, and then down the hallway, up the other set of stairs, so that he could creep behind the hooded figure and smash the back of their head with the butt of his sword.

“Don’t take it personally,” he said. “Hopefully the smoke will wake you up.”

And he jogged across the hallway to the other side, the golden-framed portraits of his ancestors glaring at him, before bending down and lighting the next flame.

It was quiet. Much quieter than he’d thought it would be. The Order was thin at this point, many members choosing to flee instead of stand with the last men. For the better, thought Phillip. He made his way back down to the second floor, looking for Rose.

“Rose,” he hissed, not wanting to alert any other lurkers in the shadows. “Where the hell are you?”

ROSE: Rose cleared a few rooms in the time that Phil was gone. When she got to a new and unfamiliar corridor, she stilled. One of the doors was ajar and dust floated through the air in swirls of motion like it had just been rustled for the first time after years of sitting. She made for the door, quietly, keeping her sword drawn.

The door creaked as she pressed it open wider, alerting the man inside. He was older with a neatly trimmed goatee, pristine armor, and a greatsword stuck into the floorboard in front of him. It was like he was waiting for someone while looking out the window onto the moors. He turned to look at her, frozen in the doorway, just a girl.

Perhaps a ghost, as she looked like his daughter though much older than she ever became. It was fitting, the ghost of Rosie coming to haunt him in her childhood room. He supposed sentiment brought him there in the midst of a battle, yearning to see the view she loved so much one last time before the manor burnt to the ground. He raised an eyebrow at Rose, sneering down at her over his shoulder. “Did they send a little girl messenger to surrender in hopes I’d show mercy?”

“Actually, they sent me to kick your ass.”

He blinked in surprise, turning to give her his attention now. “A girl with a mouth and a sword. What kind of barbarians raised you?”

Rose entered the room fully, straightening her stance, spitting back a response, “A bunch of assholes like you, I’m assuming.”

Hubert Knightley plucked his sword from the ground. He towered over her and was corded with muscle under his armor, gilded with a crest of two horses and a rose. Rose recognized it as the Knightley sigil and realized who this man was but she wasn’t afraid. With a swell of courage, she rushed forward and stabbed at him. The Knightley patriarch easily swiped her jab away and laughed in her face. “Is this the best this pathetic rebellion has to offer? Some weak little girl to fight me? What’s your name, child?”

The Huntsgirl hissed, “Rose.” She knew there were psychic wounds reopening with her name. Phil hardly talked about her, if ever, but Tom had told her about the youngest Knightley. A brief thought was spared to Tom and Henry, she hoped they were doing well in their fights. Then, she took advantage of the momentary lapse in Hubert’s attention and lunged. Her sword clanked against his breastplate, leaving a deep scratch across the crest.

He jumped back into action with a grunt, bringing his sword down narrowly missing the more mobile opponent. Her armor was light and minimal, but it protected her much less. Rose had to dance carefully. She brought her sword back up only to be thwarted again, his knocking hers down. “This is why the Order doesn’t bother training women. You say you’re here to fight me, but can barely keep your sword up!”

Rose growled, throwing her weight into another swing. Swords clashed together repeatedly as she retorted, “I’m not a swordsman, you’re right. But you should see me with a bow. I put your son to shame.”

The armored prince’s smirk dropped at the mention of Phillip. The fierceness he was holding back returned to his fighting. He seethed, “He is no son of mine.”

The great sword swung and jabbed with purpose now. Rose was losing ground as Hubert stepped forward with each movement. It was all she could do to block and parry, she had no chance of winning this battle. Her calculating eyes gleamed with an uncharacteristic uncertainty, a fear, as the sword was knocked out of her hands.

In a span of seconds, the sword clattered to the ground and the clink of metal scraping against metal filled the room. A sick, wet slice accompanied it as Hubert pulled the sword out of Rose’s belly. Her chainmail scraped against the blade and dyed red as her own blood spilled forth. She moved her hands to cup the wound, blood pooling in her palms.

“Pathetic.”

Rose looked up at Hubert with all her shock written on her face, still clutching her gut. Keeping one hand on her pouring wound, the huntress stumbled into the hall, dripping heavy trails of blood behind her.

“Phil!” she screamed as loud as her lungs would let her. Rose used her red hand to steady herself as she traipsed through the hall, shrieking for help, for mercy. She didn’t want to die like this. She was so close to freedom, the door of the cage was open… she just had to fly through it. Rose slipped in the slickness of her own blood under her feet. But still, she crawled away from the skulking knight behind her.

“Yes, Phillip, come save this little bird you’ve sent for me!” He called out, pompously challenging his heir.

PHILLIP:

Phillip heard his name and he ran. He ran as fast as he could in his bloody armor, as fast as he could while holding his sword. He heard his father’s booming voice soon after and that only made him grit his teeth and run faster. All that Order training was good for something, apparently.

“Rose!” he cried out the moment he saw her stagger into the hallway and then fall to her knees. He lifted his eyes to find his father in the doorway, looming over Rose. And not just any doorway —

He knew this hallway. He knew the paintings on these walls. He knew the sconces and the drapery. He knew that this was Rosie’s room. His father had been hiding out in Rosie’s room, of all places. His father had stabbed Rose in this room.

Phillip felt his blood broil over and he charged forward at his father.

He had sworn a blood oath not to kill, but as he lifted his sword, he thought that it might be worth it — how poetic, really, if he used his final breath to kill his father. Put an end to this vicious cycle and destroy the Knightley line in one go.

He thought about it, too. He thought about it as his sword clashed against his father’s. As his father bared his teeth and spit in his face.

But Rose was in the hallway. She wouldn’t last long without help. Rose needed him. Tom needed him. John needed him. Levi needed him. His mother needed him. Hell — Henry bloody Charming needed him.

Phillip was more than just his father’s son.

With a newfound passion, Phillip grunted and pushed forward, swinging his sword again. His father easily countered his blow and Phillip staggered backwards. Hubert wielded a two-handed great sword, and that combined with his strong figure and heavy armor meant that he was an impenetrable bastion.

“This is a futile fight,” snarled his father. “You know I outmatch you. I have decades of experience. I know all your pathetic weaknesses.”

“Not all of them,” said Phillip. “I’ve picked up a few new ones.”

They were evenly matched — Phillip’s agility making up for the fact he wasn’t as strong as Hubert. He was quicker and he managed to dodge a few of Hubert’s blows and sneak in a few of his own. But Phillip used this time to think. He couldn’t kill Hubert. He had to disarm him. He had to get away from him, had to neutralize the threat.

He glanced around Rosie’s room. His mother had kept it pristine and nearly shrinelike. Nothing had been touched since her death. Which meant that her tall and heavy bookshelf still stood at the entrance to her little reading nook, a narrower section of the room with a large window. And if Phillip could get his father there…

Well, he’d just need to get the right angle.

With nimble footwork, he managed to get on the other side of his father. He used Hubert’s slowness to his advantage and in the time it took his father to turn around and raise his large, great sword, Phillip smashed his own sword into the side of a shelf. He used the blade to dislodge the books, so that they fell in between the two men, hitting the floor like heavy stones.

Hubert’s face turned from rage to confusion — then rage again.

“What the devil are you doing, boy?” shouted Hubert.

“Something-something the pen is mightier than the sword!” Phillip yelled and as his father stumbled over the books on the floor, Phillip shoved the full force of his body weight to the back of the shelf and it came crashing down.

Hubert didn’t have time to move out of the way.

Now, to be fair, it didn’t hit him. It hit the wall parallel to it, creating a large, oak barricade between Phillip and his father. The shelf was just tall enough and the wall just far away enough from it and Hubert was just large enough that there was no way Hubert could step over it or crawl under it. There was now a large, rather immovable obstacle in front of him. Well, not totally immovable. Phillip knew his father would be able to push it eventually. But that just gave him enough time to dart to the other side of the room and reach for the magic lighter. He didn’t have time to say a prayer, to say sorry to Rosie’s spirit, wherever she was. He just let the flame catch onto the carpet and watched as it spread.

“You would do this?” Hubert cried. He pushed against the shelf, grunting as he began to move it out of the way. “You would do this to your sister?”

Phillip lifted his gaze up to his father.

“She would want me to,” he spat. “If she knew what you really were —”

He didn’t let himself finish the sentence. The fire started to spread. Phillip felt the heat. Once again, he thought about staying behind. Making sure that this all finished. Making sure there were no loose ends.

It would be poetic. Ended in flames, in Rosie’s bedroom.

But no. Rose needed him. Tom needed him. John needed him. There were people who needed him.

“Get out before the flames get you,” said Phillip. “They spread fast.”

And without looking back, he sprinted out of the room.

—

The great Knightley line would not end like this. Hubert swore it. Trapped by a damn bookshelf! Well, he wasn’t a foolish boy — he was a man, a Prince! He was in line to be King, once the Order dealt with this little skirmish. He’d rise up to the top. He was strong enough to push this shelf out of the way.

He began to cough.

He could see the flames on the other side. The smoke started to spread.

He heaved his shoulder into the wood. The shelf didn’t budge. He raised his sword and started to chop at it. Brute force would work. He’d make this blasted slab of oak bend to his will! And he’d find that pathetic girl and kill her and make Phillip watch.

HIs eyes started to water.

The shelf finally gave way, the wood splintering enough so that Hubert could shove through it. But he was met with red hot flames and a torrent of smoke. He coughed. He sputtered.

“Phillip!” he shouted. “BOY!”

Everything was fire and smoke. The wallpaper in his daughter’s room had turned to ash. The curtains an inferno.

“Rosie!” he cried out. “Rosie —”

His throat clogged up. He stumbled in the smoke, trying to feel along the wall and heaving his sword to get to the door. He assumed Phillip had been thorough and had closed the door and that he’d have to smash through it. And when he did, he’d make that boy pay — oh he wouldn’t just kill him. He’d kill all his friends and save his pathetic excuse for a son, last.

His eyes stung from the smoke. But he could see the outline of something in the wall. With a grunt he smashed his heavily armored shoulder into it — glass shattered.

Hubert fell.

You see, Phillip had actually left the door open. There had been no need to swing a sword at everything. But Hubert had done so anyway, because that was the way he’d been taught, the way he’d taught his sons. And because of that, instead of finding a door, he had, instead, fallen through the window.

—

“Rose!” shouted Phillip. He skirted into the hallway and found her on the ground and without hesitation, he sheathed his sword and knelt at her side. “Oh my god —”

His head spun. He tried to remember his first aid — anything, anything at all. Keep pressure on the wound. He knew that. Rose was already doing that, but her grip was weak. Her face was pale. So pale. There was so much blood. So, so much blood.

Phillip pressed his hands over hers.

“You’re going to be alright, Rose, you hear me?” Phillip said. “You’re not fucking dying on me now, okay? You’re tougher than that, yeah?” Tears stung at his eyes, but he shook his head and cleared his throat so that he could yell louder. “John! Tom! Someone help!”

TOULOUSE:

This whole thing was bloody ridiculous, if you asked Toulouse. Which no one had, of course. No one ever did. He wanted the Order destroyed but this was messy and unpredictable. Battle was not the place that Lou should be. He didn’t have the stomach for violence. His vengeance was poison. Slow to take effect, but deadly. By the time one realized they had been poisoned, it was usually too late to reverse it. His was not an anger of fire and blood.

Yet, he had come because San could not turn and Merida was grieving her father. (Why one would grieve such a man was beyond him but he digressed.) They needed magic on their side. They needed the wolf, his teeth and claws.

Lou obliged, though he was not happy about it. He stayed on the sidelines, watching and waiting for if he needed to step in but Thomas seemed to have things handled. Lou did not like the man, if one recalled he had jerked around his sister, tried to kill his partner, and was a general nuisance. But watching him now the bumbling idiot that had broken his sister’s heart had melted into a capable warrior whose movements were so fluid, it looked as if he was dancing. It had been fascinating to watch from behind the wolf’s eyes.

But now, as they rounded the corner and came upon the girl who had been stabbed, he was back to being useless.

The wolf’s ears had twitched, nose full of blood and smoke, when they spotted the girl. He had waited, just a moment, to see if anyone would move to help and when they did not, he sprang into action.

All at once the wolf was a man once more, pushing Phil’s shoulder back from where he was crouched over her so that he could look at the wound.

“Let go of her,” he told Phil. “We need to lie her down.” The fire was crackling in his ears, a nearby threat, but he had to stabilize her before they moved her. His hand touched the inside of her wrist, which was cold and clammy.

“I need cloth. Blankets. Towels. And water if possible,” he commanded calmly, peeling the fabric of her shirt back. The blood was still pooling in the wound. He pressed his hand firmly over it and with his other, he searched along the inside of her thigh until he found the artery, pinching the pressure point.

“Knightley, hold her legs up above her heart. And I need you to hold where I am holding.” Lou took his hand, jerking it forward and showing him the correct spot. By then, Tom had come back with the towels.

“You need to leave. We will be behind you but there is nothing for it. Go. Get the boy out of here,” Lou commanded. “Once you’re outside call 999. I don’t give a fuck about your Order secrecy; she needs a hospital.”

Tom hesitated, but like a good soldier, nodded and moved to grab Henry by the collar, yanking him down the hallway.

Lou folded one of the wet washcloths and pressed it to the wound, another he lay gently over Rose’s face. The last thing he needed was to stop the bleeding only for her to die of smoke inhalation. He fumbled with one of the towels, wrapping it around Rose’s torso and tying it as tightly as he could. It took several more minutes, each second agonizingly slow. Then; he got his arms under her and lifted her up.

“Keep her legs elevated. We have to get her out of here.” Moving her at the moment was not ideal. Without pressure on the wound, she was more likely to bleed out. However, they were all going to burn alive if they stayed.

ROSE: While Phil crossed over her to put his father to rest, Rose kept crawling away. She didn’t know where she was crawling to yet, but somewhere more peaceful to die. She could taste the iron of her blood as she desperately pulled herself across the floor, her strength dwindling. Each shaky hand grab moving her less and less. And then Phil was at her side, and she thought maybe this was as good a place as any. Rose rolled over, and her muscles tensed, tightening around a phantom blade.

“I’m fine,” she didn’t know why she said that as she lay bleeding in the hall. This was a mortal wound and she knew it. Phil knew it. What was the purpose in lying? Whose feelings was she saving in doing so? Who was she comforting by not screaming as the pain licked up her torso? By not complaining about how cold it was in this castle? She was raised as a soldier, and they did not scream or cry in the face of death. So she bit back the urge to kick and scream as men tried to handle her.

She gritted her teeth and hissed in pain when he applied pressure to her gut. And then the wolf came along and started barking orders, assessing her state like it mattered. Wasn’t he with Tom and Henry? Where were they? She hoped they were doing better than her.

Rose blinked out tears slowly, she hadn’t realized she’d been crying as Toulouse and Phil worried over her. She yelped when the towel was yanked tighter around her waist. “Fuck!”

She’d been injured enough to know this was all they could do in the field. Though she’d always escaped with only the need for a few stitches, maybe a concussion or two. Never a sword straight through her. It was getting harder to focus, her blood was oozing slower, her eyes wanted to stay closed. But before she gave into that ghostly call, Rose clutched Phil’s hand weakly. “I’m sorry… about your dad… I don’t think I could have done it. Can you promise me something?”

She swallowed the crimson ichor that nearly leaked from her lips, “Promise me you’ll look after Henry. I know he fucked up, but he’s lost everything too… and if I,” die, “If I’m gone, I don’t know who he’ll have left…”

Within the few minutes after, Rose faded out of consciousness. Her body barely keeping her anchored to this side of existence as it is carried out of the burning castle.

PHILLIP:

He smelled the smoke and his eyes stung. Rose’s face was pale. With her eyes closed, she looked almost like —

No. Phillip would not think of the past. Phillip would not think of the past, because it was burning down around him, quite literally. This was Rose, not Rosie. Rose who was using her last words to tell Phillip to look after Henry, which was a thought so ridiculous, he almost laughed. He instead coughed a little.

“You’ll look after him yourself, Rose,” said Phillip, though he knew that she couldn’t hear him.

Phillip looked at the naked Lou in front of him and nodded. He knew enough first aid to know that they shouldn’t move her, not with this deep wound and the dark red blood spilling to the floor. But the smell of smoke was too strong to ignore and he could already feel the heat. Together, they managed to lift Rose and as best as they could, they made their way out of the hallway and down the stairs.

Phillip kept looking over at Rose. He kept hoping to see her eyelids flutter or her hand twitch or her chest raise — something, anything that would indicate she was alive.

But it was hard to tell with the smoke and the flames and the own erratic beating of his heart.

Finally, they got outside. And just in time, too. The fire started to spread, consuming the walls of Phillip’s family home. He looked frantically around, but saw that Tom and Henry, John and Jane, and the rest of everyone were already out on the lawn, scattering to the winds. For the better, Phillip knew.

It was just him. Well, just him and Rose and Lou. He heard sirens in the distance as he stumbled out of the house. His legs began to tremble in sheer exhaustion, the adrenaline rush wearing off. He took a gasping, shaking breath, his lung stinging from the smoke.

The sirens grew louder.

It passed in a blur. Phillip somehow managed to get Rose to the medics. He wasn’t sure if he said anything about what had happened. He was shaking too much, his chest tight. They sat him in the back of the ambulance and gave him an oxygen mask, draping a heavy blanket over his shoulders.

His eyes stung. From the smoke. From tears.

There were more sirens. More trucks rushing in. The fire raged on. The ambulance started to drive away, Phillip and Rose in the back of it.

It might be poetic, Phillip thought, to look out through the window the flames. To watch his family’s legacy go up in smoke; he, the one who struck the final match.

But Phillip didn’t want to look back. Instead, he looked at Rose. He took her hand in his. He did not look back.

—

The hallowed halls of Thornwood Hall crumbled to the inferno. The firefighters cried out, unable to fight back the flames, but curiously the moment the building fell, the flames pittered out, as if by magic. The carcass of the building remained, charred and black. In the breeze, a tattered and burnt tapestry fluttered, bearing what little remained of the Knightley family crest, the words valiant and true lost to the fire.

#The Fall of Rome: A Battle of Fire and Family [Part One: The Blood You Owe]#the fall of rome #the fall of rome: a battle of fire and family #a battle of fire and family #part one: the blood you owe #a battle of fire and family - part one: the blood you owe #roselips #rose #lou #feat hubert #order stuff #tw: fire #tw: violence #tw: gore #tw: death #skjdalkdjaklsdjaslkdjalskd #thats all i have to say

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xaracosmia · 10 days

Text

ꕥ — WELCOME TO MARE COSMIA, DR. RATIO. 🌗

ꕥ — OOC INFORMATION;

name / alias: xing age: 23 pronouns: he/him ooc contact: shineonthesea @ twt other characters in xc: akito shinonome, cain knightley, yukari takeba, sua

ꕥ — IC INFORMATION;

name: Dr. Veritas Ratio (Just call him Dr. Ratio or Ratio it’s less embarrassing for all parties involved…) age: 30 (not confirmed, but makes plausible sense) pronouns: he/they series: Honkai Star Rail canon point: up to date with Penacony 2.1 app triggers: man surprisingly nothing…? I guess white man jumpscare…

personality: Wisdom is a privilege. Knowledge is a privilege. This is the core of Dr. Ratio’s beliefs. His theory is that “knowledge is not for everyone”-- and that ignorance must be healed, as if it was ailment. Scholars and geniuses have that duty to educate and spread knowledge.

And such knowledge should not be inaccessible.

Vertias Ratio is passionate about knowledge… and as such, his bigger mission is to use his knowledge for good.

It’s implied that he went at great lengths to become a part of the Genius Society, having been blessed as a prodigy in his earlier years. However, he’s come to dislike the concept of the Genius Society. Or rather, he’s started to reject the notion of being a genius. He’s fully embraced being a “mundanite”, someone who must work hard to catch up to the likes of a “genius”.

Or maybe it’s the fact that Ratio doesn’t go easy on anyone. He has a sharp tongue and is quick to insult and speak bluntly. He doesn’t mince words… he’s like the Gordon Ramsey of math or something…

Deep down, he does have his “soft side”, but good luck trying to get to it. He has better intentions, but it mostly shows in his actions rather than his words. He tends to fluster sometimes if you push him a little too much, but he’s usually ready to respond with a snarky remark or a condescending insult.

It’s not like he thinks he’s better than you, but… in fact, he kinda pities you for being stupid…. sorry……

Along with his inclination toward academics, he also is quite adamant about cleanliness. They believe that cleanliness of the body leads to cleanliness of the mind.

something your muse struggles with: Idiots.

your muse’s greatest strength: wisdom

history / background: Dr. Ratio is a renowned scholar, with approximately 8 documentaries made about him in his homeworld and even more memoirs, although all unable to capture the essence of his character. Nothing quite captures much of Dr. Ratio’s early life, although most sources agree he has demonstrated great intelligence and talent since his youth.

In Wisdom as a Privilege: Decoding Dr. Ratio, the author conducts in-depth interviews and publishes the most insightful accounts of Dr. Ratio’s character through his professors and peers alike. One such professor is Professor Rond Emeritus of the Department of Mathematics at the Cosmos Liberty University. He had taught Dr. Ratio while he was in high school, citing that Ratio’s “mastery of math, physics, and even philosophy has far exceeded the requirements for an undergraduate degree in many universities”. On Professor Rond’s recommendation, Dr. Ratio was accepted into the University of Veritas Prime. He obtained eight doctoral degrees. After obtaining his eighth, he was awarded the First Class Honors Degree “in recognition of his outstanding achievements in the fields of biology, medicine, natural theology, philosophy, mathematics, physics, and engineering. Given his remarkable contribution to the subject of energy sources on this planet, Veritas Ratio will be granted direct eligibility for teaching.”

He taught as a professor of the university, first TA-ing for several courses during his graduate studies. He then proceeded to teach approximately 52 courses, although he is known for being a harsh grader with a success rate as little as 3%. However, all those who passed his courses went on to excel in their respective fields.

Despite his seemingly unparalleled knowledge and achievements, he never directly expressed interest in joining the Genius Society, nor was he ever acknowledged by Nous, the Aeon of Erudition.

However, he received a letter from the Interastral Peace Corporation (IPC). He then presented a thesis to the board of the Intelligentsia Guild, and in defending it, he was admitted to the Guild unanimously.

Rumors say that a “Council of Mundanites” have emerged within the guild, and is commonly attributed to Dr. Ratio.

powers / abilities: Dr. Ratio is a character characterized by following the Path of the Hunt, which focuses on single-target attacks. Ratio’s particular kit incorporates mathematical and physics formulae and implements Greek architecture. He follows an academic motif, and in keeping with it, uses a piece of chalk for his follow-up attacks.

He calculates his movements mathematically, approaching them with a logical sequence.

IMAGINARY - Ratio’s element of attack. All of his attacks are imbued with the imaginary element.

MIND IS MIGHT - Basic attack that deals damage to a single target.

INTELLECTUAL MIDWIFERY - (DON'T MIND THE NAME PLEASEEEE) Ratio’s skill. Inflicts a stronger single target attack.

SYLLOGISTIC PARADOX - Ratio’s ultimate. Inflicts imaginary damage along with inflicting Wiseman’s Folly, which allows Ratio to follow-up with another attack after an ally hits the same target.

MOLD OF IDOLATRY - Ratio’s technique that creates a special dimension that can taunt nearby enemies, lasting for ten seconds.

inherent abilities:

Wisdom - They have 8 phds for a reason… Well, not just that. Their intelligence is different from a genius’s erudition. Ratio, on the other hand, has the desire for knowledge and to educate others. Nothing less.

Strength..? - They say he threw a student out with a big throw just because he tried to bribe Dr. Ratio…

items / weapons:

Chalk - He teaches with this, and also throws it at people. Make it make sense.

White Alabaster Sculpture Head - He wears this when he doesn’t want to perceive people because they are idiots. Like if you’re stupid you don’t deserve to see his face.

starting ability: imaginary kit

starting item: white alabaster sculpture head :/

extra: man something happened to me…

Would you believe me when i say i almost started writingthis app like an academic paper… shaking

Works Cited

Honkai Star Rail Dr. Ratio Character Lore, 2023

My beautiful mind

discord id: doctortruth

#xc application #mun: xing #mare cosmia

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thedipster · 1 year

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Anya’s SwynWriMo: Task 13

Crack!ship AU: Write a crack!ship au. This should be a one shot of any characters in the roleplay, yours or someone else’s! Definition of a crackship: seriously this shit can’t happen but in an alternate universe. Add 10 applicable aO3 tags

maybe the world will be kinder

taking place in the canon of the matcha four weddings and a funeral au... dipper pines reflects on his relationship with phillip knightley @knightley--phillip

Tags: Four Weddings and a Funeral AU; Angst; Major Character Death; Grieving; Secret Relationship; Missing Moments; Dipper POV; Established Relationship; LGBT Themes; AU-Compliant

cw: dying, cancer, period-typical homophobia (nothing explicit, but the fear of coming out etc)

The love of Dipper’s life is dying and no one knows.

Oh, sure, they know Phillip is dying, but whenever Dipper goes to the hospital and the receptionist at the counter asks him what his relation is to the patient and he has to say roommate or friend, he feels something lodge in the back of his throat.

How’s that friend of yours, his mother asks when she calls, and Dipper relates as much as he can without crying, and then when he hangs up, he buries his face in his pillow and stays like that for a very long time.

The worst, though, is when Dipper sits by Phillip’s side, late in the night, and reaches for his hand. He wants to wrap his arms around Phillip, bury his head in the crock of his neck. He wants Phillip to gently kiss him on the forehead, their legs intertwined. But he can’t, because at any moment the doctor might walk in, because to most people all they are is good friends and roommates.

All Dipper can do is take Phillip’s hand and give it a small squeeze. Phillip looks at him, a sad smile spreading across his lips.

“Don’t you have work in the morning?” he asks.

“Yeah,” says Dipper. “But this is more important. That’s just a day job, y’know. Weren’t you always on my ass about quitting it?”

“Touche.” Phillip sighs, leaning his head back on the pillow. It’s alarming, how much the cancer zapped the life out of him. Phillip still smiles, still laughs easily when their friends stop on by. But his cheeks are hollow, the circles under his eyes deep and dark. The smiles don’t quite meet his eyes.

Dipper once thought it was impossible for anything to squelch the light out of Phillip — brilliant, vivacious, wonderful Phillip. But that was before the cancer, before the show he had to put on for everyone else.

It’s with Dipper that he lets this mask fall. That he exhales a deep breath, the machines around him beeping and whirling. He closes his eyes.

“How’s that film of yours coming anyway?”

“Good.” Dipper’s voice cracks a little. “I’ve been getting a lot of footage. I have some interviews set up for next week, and I have an appointment to go through some archival films at King’s College.”

“Excellent, excellent.” Phillip cracks an eye open. “Glad my dying is kicking your ass into gear! Nothing like a dead friend to really inspire someone to seize the day.”

There is no malice in his voice, not a trace of anger or sadness. He sounds as genuinely happy as a dying man can. Dipper, though, feels a kick in his gut when Phillip says the world friend. He darts his eyes away.

He figured, more or less, that they’d spend their entire lives together hiding what they were to each other from the rest of the world. He’d also figured that when they promised each other that they’d spend the rest of their lives together, that the rest of their lives wouldn’t end within five years.

“I wish I could see it,” Phillip says.

“I wish you could too.” The words come out in a whisper. Dipper fights back tears. He wants to bring Phillip’s fingers to his mouth, wants to kiss them. But outside the door, he sees a doctor walk past and he cannot bring himself to do any of that.

“D’you remember when we first met?” asks Phillip. His voice is softer, his breathing labored.

“Of course I do.”

“Tell me about it. I want to hear about it from you.”

The machines beep. Dipper sucks in a breath, blinking rapidly.

“Okay. Well, it was spring semester our first year of university. We’d been in a class together for a few weeks. I thought you were incredibly annoying.”

“Thanks.”

“It’s true.” Dipper manages to laugh a little. “But then when no one else would back up my queer interpretation of the text, you raised your hand and fired back to the professor. And then after class, you hung around in the hallway waiting for me. I still don’t know why you did that.”

“It’s because I thought you were cute,” says Phillip.

Immediately, Dipper’s eyes dart to the doorway. No one looks in. No one hears that. Dipper wishes he wasn’t so afraid. He doesn’t know if any of this would be easier if he wasn’t afraid.

“Then we got coffee. And then you mentioned your record collection, so I went over…” He cleared his throat a little. “And then we didn’t listen to any records.”

“And then we shagged all night,” says Phillip.

“Shh!”

“Oh, toss a dying man a coin, love.” Phillip doesn’t sound angry, but he does sound serious. He turns his head to Dipper. “I’m not going to die without telling you that I love you, okay? I’m not going to die pretending I don’t. Can you grant me that? When we’re alone, at least. Let me love you without any fear. Let me love you like I won’t live tomorrow.” A beat. His mouth twists up into a smile. “Because it’s very likely that I won’t.”

Dipper feels his throat close in. He’s crying now. He clutches Phillip’s hand with two of his, holding it to his chest.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do without you, Phil,” he says.

“You’ll be wonderful, my darling boy,” says Phillip. “You’ll make your film and you’ll win a million awards and I’ll be up in Heaven or wherever cheering you on. I’ll be so obnoxious about it that all the angels will think I’m annoying.”

Dipper doesn’t know if he believes in an afterlife — not with the same conviction that Phillip does, anyway. But that thought does give him a small bit of comfort. He presses his lips together, because he thinks if he tries to speak, he’ll start to sob.

“I love you,” Dipper manages to whisper. He shifts over, resting his head on the pillow besides Phillip. “I know I’m scared, but —”

“I love you too,” says Phillip. They look at each other. “No matter what. Remember that.”

Neither of them say anything. Phillip eventually closes his eyes. He closes them for a long time. Dipper squeezes his hand once, his lips barely brushing the tips of his fingers, and then pulls away, as Phillip slips into a deep sleep.

Eventually, visiting hours are over and Dipper needs to leave. He grabs his satchel. He looks at Phillip’s quiet form. He prays that they will get another day. He doesn’t know if they will.

He walks out into the cold London night. The tears sting his face. He looks up at the starless sky, hands in the pocket of his jacket. He doesn’t know what will happen tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after that, but he swears that he will finish that film of his.

He’ll finish that movie and it will all be for Phillip, whether anyone knows or not. Maybe he’ll bring it to festivals. Maybe he’ll make more and become the sort of prestigious filmmaker he always dreamed about becoming. Maybe he’ll win award after award and keep them above his fireplace.

Maybe, one day, he’ll make a movie and right before the title card, white text on a black screen will dedicate the movie to Phillip Knightley, the love of my life. Maybe, one day, the world will be kind enough.

#swynwrimoanya #swynwrimoanya2022 #phipper #lmaoo

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truitt-story · 2 years

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winter is coming: songs for house briar

And I was catching my breath Staring out an open window Catching my death And I couldn't be sure I had a feeling so peculiar That this pain would be for Evermore

1. hibernation by random forest

I wanted to start this playlist off with a vibey instrumental song. I like this one because it starts off pretty bare and grows. The opening notes even sound, to me, like the wind! You can imagine walking across an empty snowy landscape and then you slowly get closer to the castle-- this is just the movie I am imagining in my mind. Because even though Winterfell seems icy and barren, there is a lot that goes on behind closed doors!

2. fine line by harry styles

I just thought this song flowed so well from the previous one that it had to go here. It was mostly chosen for the vibes (specifically the Bon Iver vibes... ask me about the Bon Iver-ification of Harry Styles...) but I think there is like a restrained anger/sadness going on here that just feels right for the Briars.

3. o come, o come emmanuel cover by the henningsons

Is it hokey to put a Christmas song on here? Perhaps. But the vibes are once again here and it really makes me feel like gathering around a fire in the dead of winter. And it’s a hymn about waiting and I think this particular version is both hopeful and fearful-- without knowing anything about the Starks, I do think that fits the Briars’ story of getting involved with the Knightleys! Like it’s supposed to be a good thing, but there’s an element of uncertainty...

4. nfwmb by hozier

Had to put a Hozier on it. Is it even a vibey atmospheric playlist if there’s no Hozier? This song in particular is very low and moody, it sounds like a murmur, and it’s about being super devoted to someone, wanting to stick with them and protect them but also maybe be hurt by them. I think looking at this from a family POV... two of the Briars are suspects in this which is interesting in a family that seems so close with one another. And some of the lyrics are just so haunting and gorgeous...

If I was born as a blackthorn tree I'd wanna be felled by you Held by you Fuel the pyre of your enemies

like I’m sorry WHAT?!?!?!

5. white winter hymnal by fleet foxes

Sorry this is also very topical but it’s literally perfect. I wanted some choral-type songs on here, I don’t know if this has anything to do with GOT canon but I just picture like a giant children’s choir in Winterfell singing ominous songs about winter idk if they put me in charge of Game of Thrones I would do that. Anyway this song is about contrasts: stillness and war, red and white, beauty and destruction. “Turn the white snow red as strawberries in the summertime” are you KIDDING. Literally haunting and so perfect and vibey.

6. the wolves by watchhouse

Also topical! But also fitting! So I think this song is about America actually but I just think wolves as a metaphor are soooo great and I really wanted to include this song. My understanding is that wolves kind of represent this repressed inner anxiety and guilt and frustration with your society that you don’t know how to express. And I don’t know a lot about GOT as we have established but I think that’s really interesting in conversation with the direwolf thing so yeah.

7. north by sleeping at last

So I was kind of conflicted on including this one because it’s so #soft and I just didn’t know if it fit the vibe (even though again... topical... THE NORTH). I think we can talk about the soft side of House Briar, though. This is a family that is very tight-knit and loving, which makes what happened at the wedding all the more heartbreaking and scary. So I wanted a little testament to curling up by the fire with people you love. Before shit hits the fan and all.

8. collar of fur by fionn regan

Gonna be honest I’ve listened to this song so many times that it’s probably been added to my “on repeat” and I still don’t really know what it’s about. But it kind of reminds me of Aurora and it seems to be about performance and beauty in the eyes of others? And “crown of light” is making me think of like angels and stuff. And yeah this one is also kind of just for vibes.

9. all i want by kodaline

Another song that starts slow and REALLY kicks into gear, with a restrained pain and anger. What I’m saying is that this song has a lot in common with Fine Line! But WOW the bridge really takes it away. And I think it has a theme of loneliness too, which is often associated with winter. I just think this is a song you scream at the rolling frozen landscape what do you think.

10. evermore by taylor swift feat. bon iver

This song is so WINTERY. And it’s about feeling kind of adrift and lost and reaching for someone who helps you feel grounded. I think contrast is a big theme in this playlist so it feels right to end on a duet. And I like that the song isn’t totally resolved by the end but it ends on a hopeful note. And man this is just a gorgeoussss song.

ok that’s all thankssss <3

#is it an emma task playlist if she doesnt say vibe or vibey 70000 times #also i realized i basically #always do a tiana playlist au week lol #love u tiana <3 #swyntask #swyngom #music

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curiousb · 2 years

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The Knightley Family Album: Volume III

When George hasn’t been romancing Mary Bennet, he’s been taking his responsibilities as a single parent very seriously. But, he does also have to earn a living, so - reluctantly - he leaves little Isabella in the care of a nanny while he is at work.

Surprisingly, the nanny proves not to be entirely useless!

He even gets himself promoted to Detective - for about the fifth time!

Of course, I completely miss Isabella’s birthday. I think that face tells you everything you need to know - she’s not a natural student.

Isabella’s child stats:

~ Scorpio 7 / 6 / 7 / 7 / 9

~ Coward / Kind / Neat

~ OTH: Cuisine

~ Favourite Colour(s): Yellow

The Bennets are of course now regular fixtures. Eliza is definitely her mother’s daughter.

Isabella and Bertram get along just fine, but Eliza always seems to be on the side-lines. Even when there’s a spare chair at the dining table, she prefers to eat alone. (Could Isabella be questioning whether Mary still has feelings for the father of her children over grilled-cheese sandwiches? Awkward!)

Given that George’s house is pretty much a second home to Mary and the kids, it only makes sense that it becomes their true home, so he asks them all to move in. He's finally got what he always wanted - a house full of children! (Look, Eliza is actually joining in for once!)

And then without any prompting from me, he immediately gets down on one knee, to make it really official!

Now that he’s embarking on a new life, George decides it’s finally time to lay to rest the ashes of his beloved first wife - Emma - in the woodland cemetery; they choose a peaceful summer’s evening to say goodbye. Tragically, Isabella never knew her mother, but George thinks it’s only right that she has an opportunity to pay her last respects too.

As a new step-dad, he soon finds the way to Eliza’s heart.

New daddy, when are you going to get another promotion, so that we can finally live in the style to which we would like to become accustomed (including having curtains at the windows, and maybe revamping this tired old kitchen décor)?

A boy and his dog - Josie is just as much part of the family as ever!

Not long after the families combine, Bertram says goodbye to childhood, and becomes my third teen!

Bertram’s teen stats:

~ Virgo 8 / 8 / 9 / 8 / 9

~ Brave / Heavy Sleeper / Dog Person / Charismatic

~ OTH: Sport

~ Favourite Colour(s): Brown / Turquoise

~ Aspiration: Popularity / Fortune

~ Turn-ons / -off: +Athletic / +Well-liked / -Brown Hair

Since George and Mary aren’t getting any younger, they decide not to wait until after they’re married to try for a baby together.

It’s another daughter - a big hello to Martha Knightley!

#sims 2 #gameplay #merybury #george knightley #mary bennet #isabella knightley #eliza bennet #bertram bennet #martha knightley #emma knightley #josie bennet #bennet family #knightley family

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it-was-summer · 3 years

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Video Killed The Radio Star - Chapter 2 (Spencer Reid x Reader)

A/N: I’ve gotten so much positive feedback and a lot of people seem to like so I am so happy to share another chapter with you all! In this chapter I will put Asterisks (***) before anything that might seem triggering to some viewers just to give you all a heads up! I would also like to add that virginity is a concept made by man and if you are/aren’t one that is valid as hell!- much love, Em❤️

Warnings: torture, blood, cursing, distributing individual / content, sex talk, sensitive material ahead.

Plot: The team works to find you before the situation escalates, you spend time in a less fiery version of hell.

Word Count: 2.2k

“This girl made my job easier,” Garcia was logging into your computer with a smile “, It was never difficult, but now I get to skip a few tiny steps.” She was searching through your emails, looking for any messages that could have been from your stalker, there was nothing so far. So she moved to your phone records, unknown calls, texts, anything that could help.

She did find one call from an unknown number that had left a voicemail a few minutes before two in the morning on the night of your abduction, but the only thing that she could get from it was the sounds of sobs before the line goes dead.

The rest of the team was combing your apartment in Richmond. The most impressive thing about this whole case was how you knew something was going to happen and the evidence you left behind for them. Sticky notes decorated your desk, labeling everything from your passwords to the gifts your stalker had left you. Another thing that shocked the team was seeing photos of almost all of them, you didn’t get one of Garcia, with little sticky notes next to them.

The sticky notes contained little comments like “Fine as hell,” that one was for Reid, Morgan teased him about it before he looked at his own picture that had the note of “Arms?? Yes?”

It seemed like you had a sense of humor that you didn’t let on in your videos. It made Prentiss laugh, but as soon as she did her eyes looked down at the carpet, seeing a single rose petal near your nightstand. Instead of being red like all of the others, it was the pale color of pink. “It looks like the Unsub is in love with her,” she bent down to pick up the petal with a glove “, or whatever their demented version of love is.”

Reid was focusing on the books, you had a tiny library growing at your house filled with classics, some fiction, others nonfiction. He took note that you already had copies of the Brontë sister collection in your library, and they looked slightly worn down. He couldn’t help but wonder why the Unsub would give you books you already owned. Was it just for their notes? Why couldn’t they use the copies you already own?

Hotch tore Spencer away from his thoughts “The bed was neatly made and there are no signs of struggle, indicating that our Unsub probably made the bed and had time to clean up.”

“Or that she was too afraid to sleep, either way, they probably drugged her and got her out of here as fast as they could,” Prentiss added as she searched the bed for any other evidence.

Reid hummed as he watched Prentiss flip pillows over “It could have been someone she knew, a friend maybe?”

“We can’t rule out anything.” Hotch said as he looked at his wrist for the time “Ried, go with Morgan to the library. Prentiss and I will visit the family.”

***

March 6, 20XX

The night of your abduction you were sitting on your couch, holding one of the decorative pillows close to your chest as you watched the black screen of your television. You felt numb, after you recorded your video you broke down. It started off as crying and then slowly developed into a panic attack, but now you were on your couch trying to think about anything but this horrible situation. You glanced over at the time seeing it was nearing two in the morning, you had already called your mother. She told you to come home and you said you would in the morning.

You couldn’t think about her right now, you started to cry, finding it surprising that you still had enough water in your body to cry again. Sobs escaped your mouth, then something pricked your neck and the world was gone.

When you woke up it all felt so soft. You felt like you were laying on the softest bed ever created, your eyes fought against you, opening slowly in fluttering moments. The room was illuminated in a wondrous pink light, you smiled in your drugged state before it all registered. You suddenly felt hot, on fire, everything was on fire. You attempted to sit up on the bed, slipping back down with a yell, red rose petals flying up around you as you collided with the bed. You carefully sat up, looking down at the bed, if you hadn’t just been kidnapped you would think was romantic.

You tried to pull your legs up to your chest, but you screamed out in pain. Your eyes darted around the bed, in a terrified attempt to stay calm as you looked down at your leg. Bile found its way into your throat, burning in your esophagus as you looked down at your snapped ankle. You vomited off the side of the bed, your body shaking vigorously.

“Catherine,” A terribly sweet female voice spoke, “ My sweet Catherine, you’re awake.”

You coughed lightly before spitting the rest of the vomit out of your mouth, turning your head to look towards the sound of the voice seeing a familiar and beautiful brunette woman smiling over at you. “My name isn’t Catherine,”

“Yes, it is. You’re Catherine Earnshaw, Jane Eyre,” she walked closer, her hair swaying to and fro gently “ Hell, You’re Emma Woodhouse and I am,”

“Crazy, you’re fucking crazy!” you screamed.

“I’m Heathcliff! I am Mr. Rochester! I am Mr. Knightley!” She screamed back at you, her happy demeanor changing in a second, rage decorating her face for a simple second before she let out a calming sigh and smiled once again. “I’m sorry, my sweet, I didn’t mean to scream at you like that. I love you.”

Tears were streaming down your face as you nodded, slowly “You love me,” too afraid to speak out against her again, you nodded through your tears.

She sat on the edge of the bed, that you were slowly realizing was indeed heart-shaped. She reached her hand out, you flinched feeling it land on your head, her hand petting your hair gently.

March 8, 20XX

Morgan was smiling a considerate smile across the table at one of your coworkers, Noelle. She was a pretty blonde, had a sweet smile. The only thing they got out of her was that you were single, her eyes stayed on Reid when she said that, and that you were nice to everyone. Baked for people on their birthdays, or days they were struggling, you were… you are considerate.

Reid hated to admit that the nicest people always seemed to capture the attention of the most dangerous people. Unwanted, cruel, attention.

Spencer excused himself, stepping away to take a look around the vast library. There was a small cafe in the corner of the library, it was possible that the unsub first met you here, checking out a book or something of that kind. He went back to Noelle, “Would you say that Y/N had admirers?”

“Not really, but there was something in December,” she let out a soft sound as she gathered her memories “,this woman came in, beautiful, said she knew Y/N from college or something. It was a weekend so she wasn’t working, but uh she was nice, wanted to buy Y/N a Christmas gift, and asked what she would like. Y/N likes roses, she likes romantic stuff so that’s what I told her.”

Morgan’s eyes widen, holding back his comments as he thanked Noelle for her time before turning back to Reid “A Woman?”

Spencer nodded, trying to make connections in his head. The books and the roses made sense, why the blood-soaked panties? The roses because of what Noelle said, Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre were classic romance books. He had read them both, but he wanted to see your new copies of the books, your annotated versions.

As for the blood-soaked pair of panties, his mind went to one thing, innocence. Assuming that you weren’t a virgin anymore the blood covering them would mean that your innocence was already taken from you. The unsub might’ve given them to you to remind you what you’d lost or to make the threat that you should have stayed a virgin, that you should’ve stayed innocent. However, despite your so-called ‘ruin’, it seems that she still loves you, hence the gifts.

Spencer assumed that the unsub thought that the two of you were connected through romance, maybe even a taboo type of romance. The romanticism of Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre made that fairly obvious to him, as well as the rest of the team. Red roses symbolized romance, while the pink rose symbolized admiration and grace, indicating that your relationship with the unsub could have been anything but new.

“Can we get a map of all of the florists in the area?”

***

You pressed your face into the cushions, it was a weekday and she had yet to come in. Heather, after a day or two you finally remembered who she was, Heather Alexander, she lived on your floor your freshman year of college. She was quiet, sweet, and, apparently, crazy. In college, she seemed less glamorous, wore glasses, had quirky hair, complete with a babyface. You used to invite her over whenever you would bake something sweet, till one day she was gone. Dropped out.

Now, almost seven years later, she seemed so broken. Living in a delusion, thinking that she was some hero or romantic interest of yours. The two of you were destined to be together, well that is until you live out the fate of Catherine Earnshaw and die.

You found it painful to cry at this point, you were so dehydrated and tired that you didn’t even try to force the tears out. It wasn’t that you were too tired to fight, well that was to be debated, you still had plenty of fight left in you. You were playing it safe, the thing that was holding you back from fighting was your mother. You couldn’t bring yourself to put yourself in danger, you needed to hold on to her, you needed to see her again and you knew she needed to see you again. So, you did what you thought was best, for now, lie in bed and feel numb.

It wasn’t that hard to feel numb, given that Heather had you hooked up to a morphine drip. You learned that whenever she was mad at you she would call you Emma, sometimes Jane, but for the most part you were Catherine. When you were Catherine, she would give you all the morphine you wanted for your broken ankle and when you were Emma or Jane she would ween you off till she saw fit. So if you were Catherine, you would feel numb, feel okay at least for now.

You were staring up at the ceiling, feeling especially stoic, when you heard keys jingle at the door. It opened, showing a glimpse of a regularly lighted room, fluorescent as ever, before leaving you and Heather in this disgustingly pink room. “Catherine,” she threw her keys off towards the counter in the corner of the room. You were too drugged up to think about an escape plan, too drugged up to do anything but stare up at the ceiling. It felt so desperately good to be numb, you barely noticed when she touched you, but as soon as you did her touch felt like fire. “Catherine,” she leaned in close, her lips meeting yours in a second. Heather kissed you with her eyes closed, you always kept your eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling waiting for her harassment to be over. You never kissed back and she didn’t seem to mind so long as she was enjoying herself.

Heather pulled away with a childlike grin “Did you enjoy yourself today? I wish I could have stayed with you, but duty called!” Your eyes traveled down to the name on her uniform, it was the name of a floral shop near your work, the roses.

Your speech was slow and slurred, causing Heather to reach over to the morphine drip, fixing it so you would get lower levels of the drug, but that wouldn’t start working for a couple of hours. Heather seemed to know that so she simply got up, walked away, grabbed her keys, and went towards the door “You can answer in a few hours. Till then, my Catherine.”

***

Prentiss watched your mother as she played with her hands, her mouth trembling as she spoke “Y/N called me when it all started,” she looked up, her eyes shifting between Prentiss and Hotch “I should have listened, oh I should have listened!”

“Mrs. L/N, you didn’t know this would happen. You can’t blame yourself here.” Prentiss offered comfort towards your mother only for her to let out a heartbreaking wail of pain.

“She’s all I have.”

Hotch and Prentiss were walking down the porch steps with a tin of chocolate chip cookies, a habit of her’s that you had picked up on. Prentiss looked over at Hotch, whose eyes betrayed him, she didn’t say anything about the look in his eyes. She knew that he probably didn’t want her to ask. She blew out a sigh as they got into the car

“Need a cookie?”

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trenchcas · 3 years

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ok what if i dropped my fancast for the greek gods for the pjo show 😳 Disney if you see this hire me (jk)

Zeus: I think they should just bring back Sean Bean bc I love sean bean (maybe hugh jackman idk OOH or jeff bridges)

Poseidon: Logan Lerman should play Poseidon and this is the hill I will die on. Please. Otherwise, I would want an Pacific Islander to play him. I think Poseidon’s casting depends heavily on Percy’s so, (maybe Jason momoa, but it feels too basic)

Hades: okay I heard Mads Mikkelsen and Luke Evans and ngl I’m kinda invested in those (update someone said Tom Hiddleston and I- I don’t know)

Hera: I really want to say Angelina Jolie bc she gives me big Hera vibes but

Hestia: Lily Collins for an older Hestia, but PJO Hestia is a little younger. She’s like 8 years old or something.

Demeter: okay hot take but either Beyoncé or Lupita Nyong’o or a little older Demeter as Angela Bassett , because I’ve always pictured Demeter as being dark-skinned. For lighter skin: Keira Knightley

Persephone: I’m not sure who played her in the original movies but that was a really good fit and she should come back (just maybe not with the same character writing). For a new Persephone casting, idk

Ares: someone really buff like the rock

Athena: Brie Larson. That is it. I want Brie Larson to play Athena. (Or Zoe Saldana, I love both of them)

Apollo: this one was kind of hard, because in my mind Apollo was always tan with golden hair, but he was never actually white. I heard Lucas Till and it’s not a bad fit, but I want him to be tanner. Also, I cant look at Lucas Till and see anyone else except the guy from YBWM, which makes watching X-Men very fun. (Someone said Sam Claflin and sixth grade me is literally sobbing because we had the biggest crush on Finnick)

Artemis: Artemis, I feel like as goddess of the moon would be a little paler than her brother. I heard someone say Keira Knightley, and she does sound like a good fit. Only Artemis in PJO is a teenage girl, so it doesn’t work out. I think they should cast an unknown kid like they did for the demigods.

Hephaestus: I really want a disabled actor to play Hephaestus, because in the myths he’s got kind of disabled legs, and I think it would be great representation for children watching. I don’t know many disabled actors, but after some research I found Robert David Hall. He’s a little bit on the older side but I would want someone with a walking disability to play Hephaestus. (I heard Peter Dinklage once)

Aphrodite: I think she should be played by a bunch of different women, but none of them should be a “blonde bombshell”. For example, she should change forms from a plus sized black woman, to a dark skinned East Asian woman, to a dark skinned Indian woman with body hair, etc etc. if i had to settle for one person, Lizzo. Why? I don’t know. Anyway no one playing Aphrodite should fit the “blond hair blue eyes” beauty standard. DIVERSITY IS IMPORTANT.

Hermes: I would love to see Jake Abel play Hermes, honestly. He’s old enough to do that now so I wouldn’t complain if he did. (Someone said Misha I’m literally crying)

Dionysus: normally for Dionysus I’d say someone young like Timothee Chalamet, because that’s how he’s described in the myths, but since PJO Dionysus is a middle aged dude, Jack Black. He would be a good Bacchus and I think PJO’s Dionysus and Bacchus are close enough for it to work.

That’s really all I have so thanks for reading this far if you did lol and feel free to add on in the notes!!

#pjo #ada talks #percy jackson show #not spn

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ladybirdwithoutdots · 3 years

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do you really need to bring shipper wars in the Austen fandom too?

Full offense but people who deny Emma is in love with Mr Knightley and hate on him because they ship her with Harriet, and pretend she should’ve ended up with her, are bullshit. I’m tired of these posts (including the Harriet stans whom I saw bashing even in some emma/knightley posts when fans of the latter are the first to make cute posts about Harriet too), and honestly, you all just make me feel very negative about Harriet and unable to truly appreciate her scenes with Emma.

Maybe I just don’t care about being a bitch but here’s what an Emma fan who is just tired of the anti Emma/Knightley crap honestly thinks about your nonsense:

Hating on the last Emma adaptation because Emma is in love with Mr Knightley and marries him in the end is as disingenuos and idiotic as hating a Pride and Prejudice adaptation because Darcy and Elizabeth are in love. Le duh! You can ship him with Bingley and her with Charlotte (or Wickham, if that’s your mood I’m not judging shipping choices here) but if you watch a movie based on an Austen’s book you know what you are getting yourself into, especially when her canon romances tend to be very important plot elements for the protagonists and their character growth.

I get it’s 2021 and hating all het romance makes some people feel woke and edgy, and I totally get alternative readings and things like that, but out of ALL Austen ships and all her female heroines, Emma is the one female character who doesn’t even need, neither want, to get married and truly only does that in the end because she is in love. Emma is the LEAST Austen heroine whose romance you should even question because she honestly only married the guy because of love and no other reason. Furthermore, unlike most of romances from that time, the guy Emma marries isn’t just some random guy she has met two seconds ago, it actually is her best friend, someone she knows since years and the one person who knows her best and loves her in spite of her flaws. Austen was very forward for her time with their romance, especially given the fact her male love interest actually decides to live with Emma and her father in the end instead of doing what every married man had the right to do at the time (take his wife to his own home where she’d have little to no power). Knightley and Emma are the (original) best friends to lovers relationship. He’s the best friend Emma had loved from the beginning without realizing it. It’s one of the main points of her story and the great irony of the novel that she thinks love isn’t for her, and she had never been in love, but she already is in love with him without realizing it because of their friendship. I’m sorry bro but that had never been Harriet, and it seems hypocritical tbh for some of you to want to give Harriet the story that Mr Knightley has with Emma, all the while hating on him and the romance. Even with the last movie, you have people take quotes de Wilde said about Knightley and Emma (e.g., the one about the movie making you think about ‘the best friend you maybe should have kissed’) out of context to manipulate others into thinking she was talking about Harriet instead (and queer baiting, which would be homophobic)

On one hand, we really do need more stories that put an emphasis on female friendships too and on other relationships that aren’t just the romance. On the other hand, it’s completely useless for writers to try to give us that (e.g. de Wilde in the last Emma) if everytime two characters care about each other and share screentime together, people claim that relationship (and all scenes that make perfect sense with a normal platonic relationship) must be romance and romance only. It’s almost as if some of you never had a friend and therefore believe that everytime a character cares about another character they must be romantically in love with them. It also makes me believe, more than anything, that romance is the only kind of love that exists or is important for many of you. And if that is the truth, why even bother with fictional friendships then? Why even complain when writers don’t give us that if we are unable to appreciate those relationships as something of equal importance with romance?

I really can’t take people serioustly when they overinflate Harriet and her relationship with Emma all the while they minimize Emma/Knightley’s mutual feelings. I read people who apparently find it harder to erase Harriet’s baseless crushes on every guy who gives her attention, than erase the actual love story and feelings of the protagonist! Tbh, even if you wanted a gay adaptation of Emma (and not one that is that just for the sake of), it would make much more sense to simply turn Mr Knightley into a female character, therefore still respecting the canon couple and Emma’s character arc, than ship her with Harriet. The latter is a weak alternative and frankly baseless for me because the only things she and Emma have in common is the fact they are both girls and they have an ‘e’ in their name. Full stop. Intellectually, Harriet is no match for Emma and their ranks in society are so apart that their relationship could never ever be equal (and it never was). I don’t want to be harsh but tbh I was never convinced they are actually friends in the novel, and the last movie made it even worse for they emphasized Harriet’s blindness about Emma’s feelings, and how one sided that dynamic is for it’s just Emma who makes an effort to be a friend in the end. Let’s be real here, Harriet doesn’t even know Emma and never really acts as a friend to her, unless your definition of friendship is ‘someone who worships you, and pretends you are the best and right even when you aren’t, as long as they perceive you as a savior who can help them'. That’s not what being a friend means to me. It speaks volumes to me that the one and only time movie-Harriet actually notices that Emma is a human being with flaws and feelings too is when she gets angry because Emma wants the same guy she wants. I don’t know if Austen’s ‘naive and completely clueless Harriet’ is worse or better than de Wilde’s version but the latter really emphasizes one of the biggest issues of Emma/Harriet even more, to me. As a book Emma fan, before an adaptations fan, I read all kinds of comments about this novel and character but honestly, I never read any real convincing argument why Harriet and Emma should be a couple instead of her and Knightley. Most of what I read boils down to people taking things out of context and/or claims that Harriet is ‘better’ for Emma just because she’s a woman and she agrees with her all the time, while Mr Knightley is the bad guy because he’s older than her (he’s only 37, btw) and criticizes her ( as if Emma doesn’t need someone to criticize her, and her character growth isn’t dependent on precisely that). I get some people wouldn’t like to have someone who is criticizing them but worshiping someone is =/= being their friend or appreciating their real qualities. I also read people point up how much Emma praises Harriet in the book as proof that she’s in love with her, but the same ignore the many instances, especially after Harriet tells her that she loves Mr Knightley, that truly show Emma’s real colors and how much she still considers Harriet her, and especially Mr Knightley’s, inferior to the extent she regrets their friendship and thinks Harriet is ‘uppity’ for thinking Mr Knightley would ruin his reputation to marry someone like her. When I read those arguments it seems, if anything, that people want to have the cake and eat it by saying that Austen’s own story doesn’t matter (and she doesn’t understand her characters’ real feelings) when it comes to the things those people don’t like (eg the fact Knightley is the one Emma is in love with and all the explicit hints about that ), all the while still selectively using some of her writing to support their alternative version of the story. Now with the last movie adaptation, it’s even worse for me. It’s telling that the two scenes people romanticize as pro Emma/Harriet are two phrases/moments that actually emphasize the bad side of their relationship, and why their friendship isn’t good for either of them. The first is the scene when Emma says she ‘wants to keep Harriet for herself’: not only there is nothing romantic about that ( that line is in the book too as well as Knightley’s ‘your infatuation is blinding you’. You are reading a book written in 1800 with modern goggles though, and that alone doesn’t really work) but that phrase should actually make you cringe for it emphasizes how selfish and manipulative Emma is by treating Harriet like her new pet project just because she’s lonely. She doesn’t care about the girl’s feelings for Robert Martin, and what is truly the best for her due to her rank (and how dangerous it actually is for Harriet to not marry and find someone who can offer her protection), even if it’s what she tells herself, she only cares about her own desire to have a new female friend because she lost Mrs Weston and she feels lonely and bored. It’s also true, though, that she is still lying to Mr Knightley too because she does actually want to match Harriet with Mr Elton, that which is obvious in the other scenes, but even that is an expression of Emma’s selfishness and not really a hint of her caring, let alone loving, Harriet as a human at this point. If you read the book, it’s particularly obvious given the fact that Emma isn’t blind about Harriet’s feelings for Robert Martin for she knows that her behavior is bad and the girl actually cares about the guy, but she manipulates her into thinking Mr Elton is better because it’s her choice and she prefers him (until he proposes to her, of course. Then she thinks Mr Elton is trash for being so arrogant to believe someone of his rank could marry her) The second phrase people romanticize is only in the last movie and it’s that annoying ‘I refused Robert Martin because of you’ phrase by Harriet later in the movie. I hate that because, once again, that phrase has nothing ‘romantic’ about it unless you obviously ignore the context and what is actually happening there. Harriet is being passive aggressive with Emma there, gaslighting her and blaming her for the loss of her first suitor BECAUSE HARRIET WANTS MR KNIGHTLEY for herself. Harriet is angry with Emma there because she realizes she loves Mr Knightley TOO and Emma has more chances than her. The most likely sentiment behind that flippant phrase for me is something along the lines of Harriet impulsively telling Emma to move aside and let her have Mr Knightley because she made her lose Robert Martin already. She is trying to make Emma feel guilty, subconsciously or deliberately, but this surely is how Emma herself perceives Harriet’s words too for the poor girl really thinks it makes her a bad person to accept Knightley’s proposal in spite of loving him back. Harriet made her believe she was stealing her man and yet, AND YET, had Harriet been a real friend, to begin with, she should’ve realized Emma’s feelings for him way before she deluded herself into thinking the guy wanted her. But Harriet never cares about Emma’s feelings and even their reconciliation in the end is all, still, about what Emma needs to do for her. Not a word from Harriet about being happy for her friend too. Nothing.

Listen, I really appreciate de Wilde’s attempt to make the Harriet/Emma dynamic better than it is in either the novel or other adaptations, even if it personally doesn’t convince me it’s friendship. But I get it. Like I said at the beginning, it’s important that movies display different kinds of love too beside romance and if you can’t do that with characters like Emma who are the protagonist then when you can even do that? I think it was valid for her and Catton to want to emphasize the fact that Emma, at her core, is truly young and lonely and she doesn’t have friends in the truest sense of the word (Mr Knightley is one, of course, but their point is more about her having a female companion too whom Emma could do more ‘girl’ things she can’t do with her husband or father) but, honestly, I maintain no adaptation ever truly got their relationship right. No one. Overrating them and pretending that they are best friends forever when there is no substance for that is as incorrect as an interpretation of Austen’s writing as it is treating Harriet as a silly girl Emma barely tolerates. I appreciate the movie shows Emma’s conflict about Harriet when Knightley proposes to her because most of adaptations don’t do that: in the book she really, for a moment, feels so bad for Harriet and feels simultanously happy Mr Knightley loves her but also bad for taking the guy Harriet wants. She is no hero who wants to give up about him to let Harriet have the guy instead, though, but it isn’t like she doesn’t care either. She does and it’s a source of anguish for Emma and part of her character growth that she actually cares and feels empathy for Harriet.

However, if you want Emma to have a real female friend that’s not Harriet and that’s not really the story Austen wrote and the role she gave to Harriet. Like many academics pointed up, like many of Emma’s ‘mirrors’ in the story, Harriet is put there by Austen to emphasize Emma’s immaturity at the beginning and the fact she deliberately doesn’t choose her equals as friends and picks Harriet, instead, as her new pet project because her inferiority makes her easier to manipulate and, like Mr Knightley very eloquently points up, she makes Emma feel superior and more accomplished than she is. Emma doesn’t want to be friends with Jane, for example, because not only she could be more her equal but she actually does see her as superior in the aspects that make Emma the most vulnerable and insecure.

It’s great the movie gave more space to Emma’s relationship with Harriet, and I get that if you want to put the spotlight on female friendship too it’s either Harriet or Mrs Weston but also, let’s not pretend the movie wasn’t focused very much on her romance with Mr Knightley too, perhaps more than other adaptations did. People commend this adaptation for showing his feelings for her more and it’s true, but I will also argue that this movie does emphasize her feelings for him more than adaptations usually do for you really see Emma’s feelings and jealousy towards him before she even realizes her feelings. It’s obvious since their first scene when she’s waiting for him and runs to her piano because she wants to get noticed by him. Her breath constantly hitches when he’s close to her or because of her feelings for him, and she definitely reacts to dancing with him. She may not know her feelings from the start, she might be in her own ‘work in progress’ to figure everything out, but the movie makes it obvious to me that she loves him. If there is any adaptation where you want to be disingenuos about their chemistry and deny their romance, this really isn’t the one tbh. Look, if you want to headcanon Emma as bisexual you’ll find me agreeing with you, but pro LGBT readings and actual representation doesn’t mean, for me, shipping two characters together just because they are the same gender and the writers make them care about each other a bit, or give them screentime. Like I said at the beginning, if I wanted a gay adaptation of Emma I’d rather make Mr Knightley a woman than ship Emma with Harriet or Mrs Weston or Jane. Because regardless their genders, it’s the Knightley character the one Emma loves and wants to be with, and it’s this character who truly represents her best friend and the person who knows her best. It’s Knightley the only one who cares about her well being so much that when she is being the worst version of herself and no one cares, he is the one willing to tell her even if he hates doing that and he feels he’s destroying every chance he has to make her love him back. It’s the Knightley character who ultimately inspires her to be a better person and loves her in spite of her flaws.

#emma 2020 #emma woodhouse #emma #harriet smith #mr knightley #emma x knightley #may delete later but I needed to rant because some of you are getting old

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mostlymovieswithmax · 3 years

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Movies I watched in March

Thought I’d chronicle the films I’ve been watching over the March period, from the 1st to the 31st, and how I’d rate them. If you’re looking for something to watch, perhaps this will help. A lot of these movies are available on streaming services also.

The Wolf of Wall Street (2013) - 10/10

I hadn’t watched this in a couple of years but I was blown away. Peak Scorsese.

Rushmore (1998) - 7/10

Not the best Wes Anderson movie for me but still fun.

Lion (2016) - 8/10

I discussed this at length on my podcast: The Sunday Movie Marathon. Great movie!

The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) - 10/10

Now this is one of the best Wes Anderson movies. I discuss this more on The Sunday Movie Marathon. Fantastic, funny and I watched it twice because it’s so much fun.

Inception (2010) - 10/10

Discussed on The Sunday Movie Marathon. Best Christopher Nolan movie for me, Inception is just breathtaking.

The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou (2004) - 5/10

This might be Anderson’s weakest film (at least from what I’ve seen) but it’s still not as bad as a lot of directors at their worst.

The Royal Tenenbaums (2001) - 10/10

I was really on an Anderson binge in March. The Royal Tenenbaums is one of the most wholesome movies I’ve seen and certainly one of his best films.

Rome, Open City (1945) - 4/10

This was filmed in Nazi-occupied Italy and from that premise, the film enticed me. Despite having some interesting qualities, I do feel that initial pull is most of what the movie has going for it.

The Prestige (2006) - 7/10

I showed this to my brother and for what it’s worth, he enjoyed it. I do think this is one of Nolan’s weaker efforts but considering how much I like it, that speaks a lot to Nolan’s filmography as a whole.

Nostalgia (1983) - 10/10

I watched Nostalgia three times in the space of a week and reviewed it on The Sunday Movie Marathon. It’s phenomenal.

Kangaroo Jack (2003) - 1/10

Another one I watched for the podcast. Kangaroo Jack is truly terrible and it upset me a great deal. Avoid this movie.

Stalker (1979) - 10/10

Another Andrei Tarkovsky movie (director of Nostalgia). I watched this again during the day before my second watch of Nostalgia and while it’s hard to compare such different movies, I enjoy Stalker more. It’s a staple of Russian cinema for a reason.

Four Lions (2010) - 5/10

Watched for the podcast. I didn’t really gel with this comedy but it would certainly appeal to someone who enjoys the humour, as my co-hosts did.

Revolutionary Road (2008) - 6/10

This Sam Mendes joint was a tad too melodramatic but still boasted some great performances from Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet.

Metropolis (1927) - 6/10

This silent film is a staple in cinematic history. Its themes are as painfully relevant today as they were in the 20’s, yet despite that I found a lot of it to be intensely boring. After it hit the hour mark, I started playing it at 1.5x speed.

Crimson Peak (2015) - 4/10

A lot of great set design and costumes and colours, yet the story itself was madly uninteresting.

Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind (2004) - 10/10

Who doesn’t love a good movie written by Charlie Kaufman? I reviewed this on The Sunday Movie Marathon and after a third watch, it is as fascinating as it is gut-wrenching.

Godzilla (2014) - 3/10

If you wanted to see Godzilla fight a bunch of monsters for two hours, then this is not the movie for you. There’s maybe about ten minutes total of on-screen Godzilla action and considering that’s really all anyone’s watching this for, it’s amazing the titular sea lizard occupies so little of the movie.

Prisoners (2013) - 10/10

Brilliant mystery thriller by my favourite director, Denis Villeneuve. Discussed on the podcast.

Eraserhead (1977) - 7/10

David Lynch’s debut feature film went down in my estimations this time around. You can listen to why on The Sunday Movie Marathon. Still, Eraserhead is a very good movie.

Raiders of The Lost Ark (1981) - 6/10

The first Indiana Jones movie proved to be a fun romp and Harrison Ford plays the character beautifully. I’m just not a big fan of Spielberg and his average verging on pretty good but rarely ever great movies. Perhaps on a second watch, I may enjoy this more.

The Seventh Seal (1957) - 9/10

Watching this movie again was so much fun. So far, it’s my favourite Ingmar Bergman film. It’s a celebration of life and love, with an underlying sense of dread as death looms ever-present.

Indiana Jones and The Temple of Doom (1984) - 5/10

I can tell why this generally looked on as the weakest in the trilogy. Harrison Ford is still great but the movie dragged a lot and felt more like a bunch of things happening for the sake of it rather than a fun action/adventure.

Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade (1989) - 7/10

The Last Crusade was a lot of fun and maybe it was Sean Connery’s inclusion, or perhaps the bottle of wine I drank through the movie elevated my enjoyment. But alcohol aside, I still believe this to be the best in the series.

Justice League (2017) - 2/10

People really weren’t kidding when they said this was bad. I watched this in preparation for the Snyder cut and I was not happy. This took years off my life.

Zack Snyder’s Justice League (2021) - 3/10

Barely any better and double the run-time of the original. I discussed this on The Sunday Movie Marathon and I was certainly not impressed. Better luck next time, Zack!

The Truman Show (1998) - 10/10

Brilliant movie and one I would highly recommend for a stellar Jim Carrey performance. This was another recommendation for the podcast.

Eighth Grade (2018) - 7/10

I was impressed with Bo Burnham’s debut feature. This is a coming of age story centred around a young girl growing up in the modern world and how it can affect the youth of today. Burnham shows a deep understanding of youth culture and a real knack for filmmaking.

Bad Education (2019) - 8/10

A real “yikes!” movie. If you want to learn a bit about the embezzlement that took place in an American school back in the early 2000’s, you need not look further than this tight drama with fantastic performances from Hugh Jackman and Allison Janney.

Twelve Monkeys (1995) - 8/10

One of the only movies where the time travel makes sense. I recommended this for The Sunday Movie Marathon and it’s pretty great.

Ready Or Not (2019) - 7/10

Despite a premise that is not wholly original and a super goofy third act, Ready Or Not is gory, violent fun with a lot of stylish art direction.

Dead Man (1995) - 3/10

Recommended on the podcast. I really did not get a lot out of Dead Man. It’s a very slow movie about Johnny Depp going through the woods and killing some people on the way, but it’s two hours long and hugely metaphorical and sadly it just didn’t connect.

Misbehaviour (2020) - 6/10

A big draw for me in Misbehaviour is Keira Knightley; I think she’s a great actor and I’m basically on board with anything she does. I’d been wanting to see this for a while and I was shocked to see just how relevant it is (being set in 1970) to the world we find ourselves in today, where women are still fighting to be heard and to be treated equally. While the film is not spectacular, I still got a lot from its themes, so recently after the murder of Sarah Everard and how women are being treated in their protest.

Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned To Stop Worrying and Love The Bomb (1964) - 7/10

I was surprised at just how hilarious this early Kubrick movie is. While I can’t say it floored me or took any top spots, it’s still a great examination of the military and how they respond to threats or try to solve problems and the side of war we don’t often see in films: the people in the background sitting in a room making crucial decisions.

Taxi Driver (1976) - 10/10

Wow! I can’t believe I’d never seen this before but I’d never really had access to it. Taxi Driver is a beautifully made movie with so much colour and vibrancy. De Niro puts on perhaps his best performance and Paul Schrader’s timeless script works miracles.

Sleepy Hollow (1999) - 5/10

Classic Tim Burton aesthetics in a pretty by the numbers, almost Supernatural-esque story eked out over an hour and forty minutes.

Seaspiracy (2021) - 6/10

Everyone’s going crazy over this documentary and I agree it tackles important issues we’re facing today surrounding the commercialization of the fishing industry, but a lot of what’s presented here is information already available to the public. The editing feels misplaced at times and the tone is all over the place. Nonetheless, it’s still quite fascinating to see good journalism being done in a way that exposes this side of the industry.

Pirates of The Carribean: The Curse of The Black Pearl (2003) - 8/10

Super fun and a great first instalment in a franchise that sadly seems to have peaked at the first hurdle.

My Octopus Teacher (2020) - 8/10

Great cinematography and a lovely premise, this documentary has garnered an Oscar nomination and I can see why.

The Sisters Brothers (2018) - 8/10

A really solid western I was happy to watch again. It’s a shame no one really talks about this movie because it is excellent with stunning visuals and great performances.

Pirates of The Carribean: Dead Man’s Chest (2006) - 5/10

A strangely massive drop in quality from the original. If I didn’t like the whole concept of this franchise so much, I might have had a worse time.

Reservoir Dogs (1992) - 8/10

On a second watch, Tarantino’s first feature is still wildly impressive.

Life of Brian (1979) - 7/10

This is perhaps my third time watching Monty Python’s Life of Brian and it’s still incredibly funny, however it never manages to measure up to its predecessor (and one of my all time favourites), Monty Python and The Holy Grail.

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