#and everyone is back like nothing happened and keeps moving on. where were the stakes? they weren’t changed by that fight

[savvythepirate]

My heart is yours

Pairing: Davy Jones x reader

Warnings: None

Requested by: @royisrandom

The Request:

Hey it's been a while since I requested something and I hope you're feeling better :). Could I request a platonic comfort Davy Jones x reader where the reader is being comforted by Davy Jones. I'll leave it up to you for the details. No rush! :)

***

Despite Davy Jones being heartless and cruel, he had some sort of a soft spot for you and for you only.

Davy didn’t show it though, as he wanted to keep his reputation at stake of being the cruel, heartless creature to ever walk the grounds, or sail the seas. How you ended up on the Dutchman was quite a story, insane would be how others describe it once they hear it, after hearing you telling them that you are the only loving person having to end up onboard.

You had gone with Will Turner to help retrieve the key to the chest that contained the heart of Davy Jones. It all started with a game of Liar’s Dice and just like any fool would do, Will made the move to challenge a round with Davy Jones. Just like Bootstrap Bill, you instantly protested against it, but there was no way of having him reconsider what the hell it was that Will Turner had in mind.

“I challenge Davy Jones.” Will said, you and Bootstrap Bill quickly turn to face him.

“You idiot! Now why-“ You were interrupted by a thud coming from above your heads.

That causing you and everyone to look above and around themselves as Will Turner whispered in your ear the reasoning for his part in the game.

Davy Jones appears.

“I accept. The stakes?”

“My soul. An eternity of servitude.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as he says this, than you slightly nudge him.

“Will, come on! Don’t be stupid!” You say, as Bootstrap hisses out a single word.

“No!”

But the game continues and you could do nothing but watch it as it was happening.

“Against?”

“I want this.”

Will Turner than shows Davy the picture Jack gave him of the key to the chest which again, contained Davy Jones heart.

You watch Davy’s face contorted to limited annoyance before he asked about knowing of the key. As he does so, you could feel the anxiety prick at your heart as you waited Will to give details.

“How do you know of the key?”

“That’s not part of the game is it? You can still walk away.”

Davy slowly sat down opposite of Will Turner, which showed he accepts Will’s challenge. You watch and stare as Davy pulled out the key from under his tentacles for everyone to see before putting it back under.

While the game was about ready to begin, you could see Bootstrap Bill urging to wheeze himself into the game, but you put a stop to it by suddenly beginning to join the game yourself. It wasn’t hard to tell that seemed to make Davy’s anger grow as he barks at you about it.

“What’s this?!”

“I’m in with a matching wager. I bid three twos. It’s your bid… captain.”

“Four fours.”

Laughter could be heard from the crew surrounding outside the game.

“Four fives.”

“Six threes.”

“Seven fives.”

“Eight fives.”

Davy chuckles as he said the dreaded words.

“Welcome to the crew, lad.”

“Twelve fives.” You had said too hurriedly before foolishly continuing.

“Call me a liar up the bid.”

“And be called a liar myself for any trouble?”

Davy looked at your fives before slamming down the cup saying

“Miss. (L/n) you are a liar and you will spend an eternity on this ship. Master Turner, feel free to go ashore… the very next time we make port.”

The crew began cackling with laughter as nothing is said to Bootstrap Bill.

***

Later on in the evening, Will returns and had the key around his neck as you continue to help him escape.

During the escape plan, Will was just as confused as anyone would be when after you announced to him you’d be staying behind. He didn’t understand why, and quite frankly, neither did you. Something was holding you back and you didn’t know what, and maybe you did but didn’t want to admit it. But it was in your heart that helped you to see the light in the truth that you were staying behind for Davy Jones.

“Are you sure, (Y/n)?” Will asks.

“Yes. Positive.”

“There’s no way I can get you to change your mind?”

“Nope.”

Just as Will was to go on, Bootstrap Bill shows up, handing something over to Will. Getting a closer look to it, you realized it was his Knife.

“Here, take this. Get yourself on land and stay there, it was always in my blood to die at sea. It’s not a fate I ever wanted for you.” Bootstrap declared.

You watch as Bootstrap handed Will his knife, than he turns to you with a stern look on his face.

“It’s not a fate you ever had to choose for yourself, either.”

“I know.” You simply said.

You’re suddenly embraced by Will as he promises that he will come back for you, asking you to be safe in the meantime.

“I will. Now go on before someone sees.”

You take one last look as Will rows away from the Dutchman and into the dark of night.

***

Ever since Will Turner had been of absence, Bootstrap looked after you.

Sometimes he was a hard case, but most of the time it happened as a front for the crew and captain, Davy Jones. Bootstrap couldn’t help but take notice Davy Jones has been keeping an eye on you and couldn’t figure out why. Until you had formed a bond with Davy, Bootstrap than understood.. it all became clear to him.

Wanting to keep your safety a priority, he didn’t say anything about you taking part of Will’s escape that night and it turned to be a blessing in disguise per say, as Davy ordered for you to be moved into his own quarters which would provide you more decent shelter of the ship then what the rest were getting. Things seemed to be going in your favor, until that awful night where you had to put yourself to work in the harsh winds and rainstorm. Quite a number of times did you slip on the wet and unforgiving floorboards of the Dutchman, that almost landed you overboard into the sea. One incident did occur when as you were carrying a heavy loaded bucket of water to throw back, you slipped once again and soon found yourself dangling over the side of the ship, calling out for help.

Your cries for help over the thunderous noise of the waves crashing have luckily been heard as you felt someone’s hands lifting you, hoisting you back onboard. Of course you knew it was Bootstrap Bill and with now knowing you’re back onboard, you allow yourself to pass out from exhaustion, but not without hearing your name being called.

“(Y/n)!” Davy shouts, seeing your limp figure.

Upon seeing your limp body, Davy was assuming the worst when Bootstrap gives him hope.

“She’s not dead, captain. Just passed out from exhaustion.”

“Take her to my quarters!” Davy barked.

***

Although you were still in the same drenched soaked clothing you had on when Bootstrap Bill rescued you from what your mind has told you from certain death, you don’t have any recollections of feeling so cold as the ocean’s waters that fateful stormy night where a dreadful temperature nearly matching the same of the bottom of the seabed.

You had woken in the captain’s quarters, and although your savior Bootstrap Bill was there, all you wanted was Davy Jones.

Little did you know, DavyJones was just right outside when he heard the sound of you gurgling, seemingly struggling to catch some air to breathe until you could at last. A silent sigh of relief left from him as he walked over to check on your well-being.

All Davy Jones truly wanted now was to provide some sort of comfort for you, although it was now just the two of you as Bootstrap Bill left to continue work upon orders. However, you still seemed to be struggling to breathe at a proper rhythm and as you do, Davy Jones was trying to figure out a way on how to help you, any Lille bit could save your life.

Davy than rushes over to you, reaching his more human hand out towards you, which you did take without hesitation. As you do that, he begins to speak on telling you what to do, and you so, you started feeling better little by little, and even comforted.

“Just breathe… breathe and everything’s going to be okay.” He tells you.

Though you shouldn’t believe him, you do. It was different being in his presence, yet comforting as you felt safe enough to allow your hand to continue to rest in one you were currently holding.

Weirdly enough, this brought you the kind of comfort that was enough to have you lean your head back onto the soft pillow beneath you while falling back asleep in the care and comfort of Davy Jones.

The man you would soon have fallen for, as he would you.

Before your lights went out for the next little while, Davy Jones didn’t let you go without a few more words left to say before you awake once again.

“Just rest. I’m here.”

And than…

“My heart will always belong to you. My heart is yours.”

***

Requests: OPEN

@savvythepirate

Tags: @royisrandom @always-on-hiatus @princessofthornsandroses @justafairytailofinnocence @marsswann @friendlynova @mypookiebeardavyjones @imalittleoutthere @personlovinganime

Characters list:

• Jack Sparrow

• Davy Jones

• Hector Barbossa

• Will Turner

#jack sparrow imagines #jack sparrow imagine #jack sparrow x reader #jack sparrow #hector barbossa imagines #hector barbossa imagine #hector barbossa x reader #hector barbossa #davy jones imagines #davy jones imagine #davy jones x reader #davy jones x ​y/n #davy jones #will turner x reader #will turner #pirates of the caribbean imagines #pirates of the caribbean imagine #pirates of the caribbean x reader #pirates of the carribean #i take requests #requests wanted #requests are open #requests are welcome #taking requests #requested #request #requests #send in an ask #ask box #ask box is open

[sitp-recs]

Hi liv! I was wondering if you had any fics with really charged moments between harry and draco? Where they both want each other but are unwilling to make a move? They don't strictly have to be slow burn or ust fics because I feel like I've read some where there's a fast sexual burn but they still contain heavy moments. This ask was inspired by me just finishing little Compton street and rereading some bixgirl fics, and I know you love those authors so hopefully you know the vibe I'm trying to find! Thank youuu

Ohh I love this ask! And I’m really pleased to know that we share some favorite authors and works, LCS has my whole heart ❤️ I also think that Writ and Bix are great authors to binge read if you’re looking for that specific vibe of UST, their fics are sooo cinematic. Here are some recs, I’ll save this list as “intense UST” lol

Take These Lies by @pennygalleon (E, 20k)

There’s a portrait of his godfather in Draco Malfoy’s potions shop and Harry needs to know why. But that’s not why he keeps coming back.

The Venice Job by nishizono (E, 25k)

Harry Potter was one of the youngest Aurors in history. He was the Boy Who Lived, and the Boy Who Lived Again. He loved Guinness and Quidditch, and hated pineapple. He wrote letters to Hagrid every Thursday, and on Sundays, he visited Hermione and Ron. Harry Potter was also not gay.

I Bet That You Look Good on the Dancefloor by birdsofshore (E, 28k)

God, he wanted this – wanted it so much he could taste it, a metallic tang of heat and desire. He suspected nothing would ever be the same again – especially when he saw who else was in the room.

War Wounds by SilentAuror (E, 30k)

Some wounds take longer to recover from than others. HP/DM, with background HP/GW. Themes of alcoholism, love triangles, and dubious fidelity.

Us, in Lieu by Tepre (E, 30k)

Teddy needs help and Harry needs funding. Draco sits in the other room and plays the piano.

Expecto Patronum by @writcraft (E, 35k)

As Draco Malfoy negotiates his feelings for the wizarding world's brightest star, he becomes increasingly attached to Harry and unravels the secrets he keeps hidden from the rest of the world.

Stately Homes of Wiltshire by waspabi (E, 57k)

Malfoy Manor has mould, dry rot and an infestation of unusually historical poltergeists. Harry Potter is on the case.

Modern Love by @tackytigerfic (E, 61k)

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.

Criminal by @the-sinking-ship (E, 83k)

Things were going just fine for Draco Malfoy. He successfully conned and counted cards across Europe and America, amassing a small fortune, along with a lengthy rap sheet. That was until he made the grave mistake of returning to England for a high stakes card game and got himself caught – by Harry Potter no less.

Who we are in the shadows by @quicksilvermaid (E, 100k)

What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise? Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life.

By the Grace by lettered (T, 140k)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

Can't Sit Still by wilteddaisy (E, 193k)

Five years after the war, Harry finds himself drawn to Draco Malfoy by memories that aren't his own. Or, in which Harry hates his Auror partner, Draco flips houses, Pansy sleeps around, Hermione is a magical creatures’ justice warrior, Blaise is getting married, and Ron is just along for the ride.

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #intense ust

[time-is-restored]

okay like listen i know a lot of people have been talking abt this specific aspect of 3x3 already but. im just having a bit of a moment w the amount of lgbt ppl who saw trent's expression at the end there, and like. Knew.

like to be clear i am aware that at this point trent being gay is, at best, subtext + fanon. its incredibly beloved subtext, but its entirely possible that it could get blown out of the water in the coming episodes. but within the reading of trent being a gay man, seeing colin in that terrifying moment of exposure + vulnerability... that look says So much. its fear, its worry, its an instinctive protective response. its helplessness, its shame from feeling powerlessness, its the grim certainty that comes from knowing just how much is at stake.

(cw: discussion of homophobia + discrimination below. its long. i very much rambled.)

bc the thing that i personally keep coming back to is like. everyone on the team is colin's friend - his family, even, according to the themes of the show. the show is literally about the team + staff working together to break down their toxic/unhealthy behaviours and build up a culture of trust + respect. that's why i think it's so significant that while isaac is the one to use the word gay pejoratively, he's also the one checking in on colin when he gets moved to the bench. he's arguably colin's closest friend at the club! and that's not enough. the fact that the richmond club is made up of demonstrably good and well-intentioned people isn't enough.

don't get me wrong, its fucking terrifying + awful being closeted around ppl who are ACTIVELY bigoted and cruel and who u KNOW would be nothing less than awful to if u were out. but the uncertainty of being around people you love, and not knowing what would happen if you told them? of never truly being sure of your place in the dynamic, since there's always that risk hanging over your head? its exhausting, and terrifying.

because what if they aren't accepting? even avoiding the worst case scenario where his bosses (the coaches, higgins, rebecca - hell, even keely) don't outright cut his career short, he's obviously extremely aware of how being on the outs with the team could lead to his life being made miserable. he was harassing nate himself! and, again, putting aside the (very real! he's a football player! he spends half of his time in a locker room!!!) threat of physical violence, we JUST saw how quickly a member of the team can be shunned + labelled as an outsider (and in the context of this arc, i rlly don't think its a coincedence that trent, specifically, was the one to experience that treatment). and that's without even getting STARTED on the absolute nightmare britain's press + papparazi would be if they put a target on his back (the show has spared no gory detail for their treatment of rebecca + ted, after all).

this is the type of weight colin's been carrying around for the past three seasons. and trent, in that split second before he looked away and continued walking, must've felt it all right along with him. colin works for the fucking premier league in fucking britain. it's harder to think of a workplace LESS hospitable to anything other than the most cishetero, toxic, hyper conformist displays of masculinity.

and that's what fucking GETS me abt the reading where trent is gay! because in the exact same moment where trent would be feeling such a sudden sense of connection + solidarity w colin (you are not alone!!! im here too! i see you! i know you!), there comes the crushing weight of wanting to protect him, and not knowing if you can. trent may be a notoriously incisive + unflinching reporter, but w/ all of his power + armour stripped away now that he's no longer with the independent, it's damningly obvious that trent doesn't have anything close to real power at richmond. if they wanted to make colin's life hell, what could he really do to stop them? again: they're fucking footballers. he's only even allowed at the club on ted's word, a word which could presumably be revoked at any time.

i just. the fear. the guilt. the shame. and above all, the desperate, heart aching need to keep another member of the community safe, even with the odds so blatantly stacked against you both.

and like. idk. to me that is the point of this scene. i think whether you've been in trent's position, or colin's, or neither, the vast majority of us went through a very similar emotional journey when we saw colin exposed like that. love -> fear -> protectiveness. and its an urge so strong, ppl are (lightheartedly, for the most part) threatening the Literal Writers of the show! like, the fact that rn there are SO many people out there tweeting + liveblogging and threatening trent, threatening isaac, threatening the WRITERS - threatening literally anyone and everyone over the CHANCE that any of them will hurt colin/out him/expose him to homophobia in any way? like, yes, colin isn't real. but i'd like to hope that that solidarity is.

and just to be clear, ted lasso is ultimately a comedy show. while it has never shied away from frankly portraying dark subject matter, i don't think this story will have an unhappy ending. but if this arc comes with any takeaway at all, i just really fucking hope that its about how that solidarity is what we all need to embrace + run towards, rather than try and stifle. and that colin is fully + unconditionally supported by his community, whoever that may be.

#cw homophobia #ted lasso spoilers #ted lasso meta #colin hughes #trent crimm #can you tell im having a very normal time abt this episode and its reception. #[tears streaking down my face] so normal. comically normal even.

[popcornsalty]

Okay so so like. I feel like something people should know is that these cracks in team soulfire have been there since day one, firstly, and that bad and pierre consistently don't follow tubbo on things that they consider necessary to win, and that I want to talk about all that because this shit yesterday was a long time coming

(Obligatory /rp for all of this I'm not putting q in front of all that)

To start, on quite literally day one two people put their name into the ring for leader, which were bad and tubbo, and tubbo won by virtue of being more enthused about it. And since then, he's been a great leader for both morale and grinding, with bad and Tina as Co leaders of sorts. This was most apparent in the early days, where bad would gather the team together and help keep track and organize where tubbo had wandered off. Tina was also super helpful, because she led the non- combat crew and helped give people stuff to do and is really good at keeping up team morale.

All of that's to say, blue team has excellent internal leadership when they're functioning together and have a shared goal, which was purely the pvp and uhc style of combat they took up on early days. But that has changed over the course of the event

One of the more prominent examples is when tubbo was trying to repair relations with red and specifically told bad to lay off fighting them, only for him and pierre to team up with etoiles to try for kills- which, I'm sure they felt was necessary to win.but I bring this up to illustrate how they will not follow orders if they think it's necessary to win by doing what they're told not to

This is part of why blues rep is so fucked, especially due to bad, because he tends to do stuff thats "bad manners" and stretch the rules as far as possibly for victory, in addition to a loooot of shittalk, which has been discussed in some post team calls n stuff by tubbo y Tina but I digress since that's not lore lmaooo. But it's interesting to consider to me since while nothing is explicitly outlawed on qsmp, there is shit that once you do, there's no going back- bads rep with red, and pierre now too, and blue generally is gonna suck because of yesterday. And why is that?

Because they choose to unbalance scales that everyone thought could be balanced, and *everyone* knew the stakes listed in the tweet quackity studios made. It was very very clear, no matter the explaining away of "death of the teams" or whatever. And it's interesting to me!!! Because if you watched blues pov yesterday, you'd know how tubbo spent an hour long call with bbh early on in the morning explaining why they needed to balance the scales, and that bbh was prepared to-do that but was very paranoid that they were going to backstab them, and pierre was focused entirely on winning even at the expense of the other team. Which is some interesting stakes tbh!!!

Because like, literally a few days ago they were fucked over by green who attacked their egg statue when they had an alliance, and were wary as a result. Even if green hadn't killed their egg it was still a breach of trust, which fueled both bad and pierres fear about green fucking them Over- when like, in a few minutes of thought, you'd realize that green can't have gotten the stuff to turn in that many quests last minute, not with blue having been prepping all day as a unit to prepare to counter this if it happened.

^ but here I take for granted those moments to think in an outside perspective. So. Moving on

This is all to say- this was always going to happen. And probably in this way too, because bad is a paranoid guy who's very invested in his own survival and pierre has been worn down into being extremely focused on victory above all else. And im excited to see the consequences of that! Because killing other islanders will have that for surrrre like I'm excited for today

And like to be clear I get wanting to preserve your own life at the cost of others but likeeeee. Part of that is absolutely a No going back because it's not gonna look good to kill a team who didn't log on most of the day to anyone who survives 😭. and it'll be interesting to see how that plays out tbh!

Because the more aggressive members (bad n pierre) of the blue team have most of the ire, and the rest of blue might be offered a spot with bolas the way tubbo was- but I doubt they'll take it. Though we'll have to see how this plays out

Anyhow I have really disorganized thoughts sorry if this doesn't make sense, I just like overall wanted to say- what happened was in a long line of shit thats happened, I'm interested in seeing the fallout

(Though like for all I say this was always gonna happen, those characters made a choice that they didn't have to because they wanted to survive above all else. And that's the fun of these types of games.)

(Also anyone else crazy about the dramatic irony of tubbo wanting to save his friends with the even points and almost killed them all. That went hard)

#poke post #so sorry again my thoughts are so disorganized its hard to make sense of em hope you enjoy the vibes tuo #tho #whatever stay slay #long post #im deeply scared of harassment so no maintaf #poke blockposts

[bangtanhoneys]

Don't Blame Me - Jin & Grace

They had nearly been caught. 

Very nearly. 

It was hard to hide a relationship when you were two members of the world's biggest band, BTS. It was even harder when ARMY knew what you looked like just from your back and it was even more challenging when DISPATCH was looking for any hint of gossip when it came to the two eldest members, Seokjin and Grace. 

They had gotten together, finally, in early January 2018 and the boys had been told a year after that. Then the pandemic hit and only now, in 2022, were things finally back to normal or at least semi-normal. The pandemic had spoiled them by allowing them to show their relationship without the fear of a camera spotting them or doing something in public that would give the whole game away.

Today, that secret nearly came unravelling. 

They had just left the restaurant where they had been having dinner with Seokjin’s parents and had just about made it to their car when the paparazzi showed up, more content on photographing another Korean celebrity who had been caught dining there. No one had realised two billboard singers had just left. 

The car ride back to Grace’s apartment was quiet, having come very close to being outed. She knew Jin wanted to reveal their relationship, and she knew the boys wanted to reveal the relationship as well but she was worried about what the media and ARMY’s reaction was going to be. 

The media hadn’t exactly been kind to her at the very beginning of her career and they hadn’t exactly been kind to the rest of BTS at the beginning of their career, only now fully accepted for who they were. ARMY, on the other hand, had always been supportive but there were those who would take things a step too far - Taehyung’s situation with the members of BlackPink was a prime example. 

She didn’t want to go through that, just yet. 

Jin had other plans and it started the moment he unlocked the door to the apartment. 

“We should just tell them and get it over and done with. We’re not going to get fired, not now we’ve got a Grammy nomination. Bang Si-hyuk has supported us from day one and he won’t let anything happen either,” Jin explained as he kicked off his shoes. 

“It’s not them I’m worried about - it’s what the media could do to everyone’s career. It’s not just you and me we have to take into consideration here, it’s the rest of the boys. This could negatively impact them, just as it could with us,” Grace sighed as she ran a hand over her face. It was the same argument every time this happened. 

She wanted to scream it from the rooftops, she wanted to tell the world, she didn’t want to hide but there was so much more at stake. 

“Can we think of ourselves for once? Can we not think of anyone else other than us?”

“How can I Jin when every day I’m reminded of what role I play, of who I am and of how many eyes are on me? I’m Korea’s Noona, BigHit’s Ace and only Female Trainee. I have to set an example, I have to have no scandals, no relationships, don’t be overly familiar with men, don’t give false hopes, don’t do this, don’t do that.”

The years of rules and restrictions had finally caused Grace to burst. It had been implemented on her from when Boy In Luv came onto the scene - act the part of the sexy school girl but don’t go overboard. Act the temptress in Danger but don’t really be like that. Be the villainess in Wings but don’t show any skin. Keep smiling, make sure you do this, don’t do that and don’t interact with this person. 

“I want everyone to know, I want everyone to know how much I love you but how can I when there’s so much at stake that one wrong move and it’s over for all of us? Could you live with yourself - watching Namjoon’s dream wash away, watch Yoongi’s suffering be nothing, watch all the years of Hobi and Jimin’s training go down the drain, watch Taehyung become nothing again and watch Jungkook be that shy teenager he used to be. Because without us, that’s exactly what’s going to happen and as much as I love you, I can’t do that.”

Jin watched her silently and she met his eyes, ignoring the fact that the tears had finally trickled from her eyes and down her cheek. Call her selfish but she wasn’t going to give the world the satisfaction of watching BTS finally become nothing because Seokjin wanted to finally say he was in a relationship with Grace. 

She silently watched as he slipped on his shoes again, take a look at her and walk out. She was left alone in her apartment for the first time in many weeks and she slowly turned, walking into her bedroom where she sat on her bed. 

Silent.

Alone. 

Jungkook found her an hour later, still where she was but with more tear tracks down her cheeks than before. “I’m sorry noona,” he muttered as he sat next to her, wrapping his arms around her shoulder and bringing her close. “I’m sorry for everything.”

Finally, after years of quietly suffering, Chu Grace broke down. 

To the anon who gave me this angst request...I hope I did you justice. Can we go back to happy times now?

#bts 8th member #bts additional member #bts eighth member #bts scenarios #bts reactions #bts female member #gracechu #seokjin x oc #seokjin angst

[see-arcane]

The conflict in other couples: "she doesn't like me back, he's in love with my best friend, he's cheating on me with my sister, he treats me like dirt, we bicker and fight all the time while our friends are saying it means we should get together"

The conflict in the Harkers: "I'm very pious and religious and righteous and proper due to being raised in a society where a woman must be so while having to pray extra hard due to my background and lack of family or I'd not survive, and he's blasting Highway To Hell in his victorian airpods"

I (21 F) am unsure how to approach my loving husband's (22 M) increasingly heretical habits, especially as I (very much a Christian!) seem to be his inspiration. WDID?

To be clear, there is nothing on Earth or in Heaven (or in Hell, as my husband seems very prepared to visit) that could make me love this young man any less. He is my soulmate and there is no changing that. He feels the same towards me...and that may be a problem.

You see, recent harrowing events have conspired in our lives. All caused by a certain individual who will not be named. We'll call him 'DeVille' (excuse the pun, it was not my idea). DeVille, though deserving of pity for his own plights in my opinion, really was thoroughly monstrous. Be it leaving porters without a tip or committing mass murder for a snack or, closer to home, harassing, imprisoning, and/or forcibly conscripting victims into his undead thrall. My best friend suffered the latter. My husband came close to the same, but escaped. I was preyed on last, and was nearly turned in full.

But my husband and our friends prevailed! DeVille was destroyed in time, I was cured! All is well!

Mostly.

You see, ever since the night DeVille attacked me, my husband has been...different. You'll think I'm being hyperbolic, but his hair truly did go from brunet to full shock-white in the space of minutes when I told everyone what happened. Later, I learned that while he and our friends were out sabotaging DeVille's lairs, he also came near to slaughtering the fellow with a kukri knife. Not just in the privacy of the building; he scaled down a house wall and chased DeVille out into the street--where he fled.

This was after he had sworn aloud that he would sell his soul to kill DeVille. (And before meeting my pity for the fellow with a furious decree that if God gave him the chance, he would send DeVille directly to Hell himself.)

That much I could write off as mere passion on my darling's behalf. I will confess it, it was almost as thrilling as it was worrying. It might have been fine if that were all. Only I fear I pushed the issue without realizing. Knowing the stakes, I insisted our friends make an oath to me to give me a posthumous euthanasia--that is, destroying me/my corpse if I were to succumb to the vampiric poisoning and die--so I could not rise as a vampire.

Our friends agreed.

My husband did not.

He agreed to read me a burial rite, he remained wholly, icily focused on killing DeVille with the others, but He Never Agreed to Destroy Me. Much later, after DeVille was ended, he gave me his journal to read* (*many of us were keeping journals to record the whole ordeal as it happened). A section of it was in shorthand that only he and I could read.

And in that section, he had made his own vow, long before I made the euthanasia request. He wrote that if I were to become a vampire, he would too. He was so opposed to my ending in any form, that he would rather join me in Hell than raise a hand to me.

(I do not dare to wonder what might have happened if our friends really had made a move to make good on their promise. He never once took his hand off the kukri since that awful night of the blood. He still wears it today.)

But even here, now, in our safe present, there's more! Though he still attends church and will occasionally pray to (or swear at!) God, he seems increasingly drawn away from the mild state he shared with me prior to this ordeal. He has taken to a brazenness I would never have expected of him outside the privacy of our own home.

He has raised questions with me and with one of our older scholarly friends, how it is that God allowed DeVille, over 400 years old and a nobleman when we crossed him, to run around unimpeded for centuries and allowed two of our dear ones to die, if we were in fact part of some blessed crusade on His behalf. Likewise, he demanded to know how it was I was burned by the Eucharist barely heartbeat after I'd been assaulted by DeVille, saying,

"Is the Son so quick to judge that he would injure someone for an attack inflicted on their body, when their soul remains pure? Why is that?"

Receiving no answer he found satisfying--frankly, I think it was a trick question--he used it as an excuse to start stockpiling books of myth and lore from countries far more archaic than even those that were scoured during our hunt. In that vein, he has also taken to throwing out his old travelogues--he calls them all rubbish now--and has thrown himself into becoming an omniglot and scholar of other lands in his own right. All of which is not so terrible, I know, for seeking knowledge is never a sin.

What troubles me is that he has shown increasing interest in the gods of pagans. Especially in such powers as Milda, Dogoda, Eros, Astarte, Freyja, Inanna, Kamadeva and--I can hardly believe it--Lilith herself! Even Lucifer and Asmodeus! ...Though I admit the latter three's notes are compiled in the same pages he has dedicated to the test of Abraham and his near-sacrifice of Isaac. There are many points in this pile to do with questions of damnation by disobedience/rebellion (Lucifer and Lilith), the seemingly hallowed act of forcing another (Asmodeus) to do one's work for another (Solomon), and the nature of sacrifice as it pertains to loving/obeying God above all else, or else.

...

If nothing else, I cannot say he is not pious. But between all these gods beyond God, I cannot say if he is the man of faith he was when we married, overseen by the nuns who nursed him to health.

I am not asking for advice on how to change him. I am asking for advice on what I am to do.

For I find myself, against all sense, beginning to enjoy the changes that have come packaged with this change. He is brazen in so many things now; things I, a teacher of etiquette, would never have dreamed possible outside of fantasy.

He takes my arm or my hand wherever we walk. We share kisses in public--often in full view of other couples whose husbands are in full bray when complaining about their wives. When he is addressed after I ask a question, my husband makes a point of speaking solely to me or to the man's wife, regardless of how elevated the topic. He also has a habit of somehow introducing talk of advances in divorce law into such chats, and how much property a divorced woman could be expected to attain under the right circumstances...

And that's to say nothing of the New Woman activities.*

*It turns out he's been a supporter of the movement even before the business with DeVille! He was as shocked to learn that I wasn't! Now it seems that's no longer the case.

I've been introduced to members of the New Woman wave and have been shocked to discover so many of them look like the girl in the mirror! I suppose that's what I get for being so slow to broaden my social circle--and perhaps taking a view too many from the Punch comics. Even so, it all feels terribly scandalous to be meeting my husband's new-old friends in this space, reading their literature, and finding myself agreeing with so much of it.

More so, when my husband seems to have no end of fun in verbally trapping some of our friends in conversation that pokes holes in their benign, if (yes fine I will say it) belittling, regard to women, showing admiration only when they have 'man's brain' such as I have. It has snowballed so far that he is now catching everyone in tripwires to do with all the assumptive work that goes into deciding a person's character merely by sex, by skin, by nation, and, yes, by skull.

Lombroso is now a dirty word in his vocabulary, especially as he initially found as many regal as nefarious traits in DeVille's countenance; he with his Roman nose and wise forehead. Physiognomy has departed from my husband's habits. And I must admit, he is making fast friends after doing so. As am I.

But enemies too.

"Where is the science in this, exactly?" he has grated out at more than one ponce casting sneers at one friend for his nose or another for her brow.

It is a striking thing to see, this ghost of the morbid huntsman he was back on DeVille's trail. His eyes burn anew, the air chills, and even the hardiest of men all take a pace back. (Though I note that most of our bosom companions take a pace forward. And perhaps take a drink to hide their smile.)

"Is it truly science or is it bias and bluff in masquerade, a con snuck under the noses of scholars who see it flatters themselves? You will forgive me, sir, if the only proof you have to offer for a body's lesser status is that you do not personally find them pretty enough, or pallid enough, or rosy enough for your tastes. How curious it is, that this 'science' has such a habit of lauding only one sort of man or woman, the better to excuse poor treatment of anyone who is not their twin. 'Of course they must be stupid! They must be a villain! They do not look like me!' I know from experience that even the finest vessel can carry nothing but horse dung behind the eyes. And truthfully, I can smell the reeking heap that passes for your character from here."

It does help that, following such scenes, or those in which he sees I am upset that some snide commenter has thrown a slight his way (none of which appear to bother him, but he is always bothered that I am bothered), he takes great pleasure in acquiescing to any physical challenge. His trimness hides a Herculean strength, and he no longer even pretends to struggle in those schoolboy scuffles of an arm wrestle. He once tipped up a horse carriage to kick a child's ball loose--in full view of his peers.

My husband is always humble as a rule and the dearest, gentlest sweetheart as a rule; but now he shelves both these traits with abandon when he feels the urge to gut some cad's pride out of him.

These and other scenes have become the norm for us. Extreme heights of passion and compassion on one end, extreme lows of disdain on the other, and a medley of worldly-to-pagan study over it all. He has shrugged off so much of the restraint and faith he lived in before and, though he would never force me to do likewise, he has left the door open and waiting, as he sits on the staircase to a strange and unknown land. And it all began when he decided to put me over God and the Devil both. I do not know what to do.

Especially when every day, I feel less and less like I should do anything but walk down with him.

Advice?

#might have gotten a bit carried away with this one #but I needed a break #mina harker #jonathan harker #dracula #dracula daily #holiest love

[silene-stenophylla]

I saw an isopod today

There were two, actually.

Small bodies bathed in yellow, iridescent plates

Shining like gold and sunlight and honey

Shining like love

Their small antennas are so delicate, so caring and thorough in their work

Legs moving with such precision

Imagine the brainpower it must take to move so many legs at the same time

The mindfulness it must take just to keep moving

There's something undeniably intelligent in that, something breathtaking

I feel like I have something to learn from these animals, these small, complicated bodies that are so determined to live

That they don't mind the effort

It scares me too, to watch them

Knowing how fragile they are.

Knowing how badly they want to live and how they too, lack any control

Everything could be over so quick

Do they know the danger they're in?

I went camping a few months ago, a nice cabin up by a lake with a bonfire out back

I carefully turned over the stones that made up the fire's resting place

Scared I would find life, scared of what lighting that bonfire would hurt

When my dad said he wanted to use it that night, I went out to the yard and got working

Checking each piece of wood, searching under every last sacred rock

On my knees like a prayer, dutifully sifting through these tiny cities of stone

Under every one, I found isopods

Surrounding that fire bed, the soon to be red hot stones teeming with livelihoods

I dug through and collected them, and moved them somewhere different

Safer

I'm probably a monster to them

I needed to help them. I needed to get them away from the fire, but it's not like I could explain

I uprooted them from their homes and carried them somewhere unfamiliar

I ruined any semblance of normality they might've had

Uprooting or burning? Which ones worse?

Is it still saving if it still hurt? They'll never know about the fire, they'll never know what would've happened if they'd stayed to become kindling

In their eyes I caused nothing but harm

I watched the fire like penance that night

It was hard to feel the warmth through the burning, searing heat

I can't know if I got them all out

I can't know if that campfire was some kind of murder

I don't know how to stop grieving for what might've been

I don't know why no one else is seized with that same, thrashing panic that fills me so completely over things like this

What is an acceptable murder?

People don't think twice about killing some things, don't think about what their joy might cost

Inescapable fear, mass extinction of young, writhing life

How do you grieve that?

Knowing its happening every day? Knowing no one else cares like you do?

I hope I didn't miss any

I know I must have, I just have to swallow it and try to help the next one in line

I wish it stopped

I wish I didn't have to hold so much grief in my dirty hands

But it lives with me, under the rocks of a campfire where I've spent years being branded by small, avoidable deaths on a scale so large I can't fathom it

I'm still trying to help the isopods escape, but it's not just my stake to burn on

No, it's a mass grave

I can't save everyone from burning with me

I can't handle this massacre much longer

#poetry #poems #isopods #bugs #entomology #jays poems #bug death #bug death tw #death mention #death mention tw #writing

[karatekels]

Disorderly Conduct - Chapter 1

I am so, *so* excited to be writing for another TIG character! While The Kidnapping/Black Friday has... a lot of issues (mostly not enough TIG and his backstory, imho), I love Cash so much!

This will not be anywhere near as dark as "Unjust Reward"; this is more of a thriller/drama/(romance?) that I have 6 posts planned for! Chapters will also likely be shorter than what I usually post (probably between 2k-4k).

TW: (for the fic, nothing in this chapter) Police corruption, police violence, unlawful seizure and detention (holding someone against their will), violence, bondage, possible dubious consent

---

Chapter 1 - Suspect:

---

“–We’ve got to be hypervigilant, follow any hint of a lead; if those drugs hit the street, I don’t even want to think about what it’ll mean for violent crime in the area. So, keep pounding the pavement, everyone, and let’s make this bust before we miss our chance. Dismissed.”

You join the throng of other officers leaving the briefing room after your morning meeting, stopping in the kitchen to top up your coffee before returning to your desk. Finding a spot for your mug amongst the mountains of case files, you take a seat, looking at the piles of unsolved cases with a sigh.

You knew you were a good cop; a lot of your fellow officers were great cops, but there were only so many of you, and only so many hours in the day. The crime rate in the city was at an all-time high, and you were all constantly working overtime, even though you weren’t always paid for it.

You’ve been an officer here for a couple of years now. Initially underestimated as a smaller, female officer, you had slowly but surely made a name for yourself in the precinct as a scrappy, determined woman who always got her perp. You were fueled by a strong sense of justice, something you had had for your entire life, and while it had earned you the reputation of being uptight or a killjoy in your early life, it had served you well in your career.

You bring your computer out of sleep mode, sweeping your hair into a messy ponytail that didn’t quite keep the hair out of your eyes as you start to review the report you had been typing up when you first got in this morning. It was a straightforward B&E, it wouldn’t take you long to finish.

A shadow falls over your desk as a tall, broad-chested officer walks past you without a glance or a word of acknowledgement. Your eyes follow the man as he moves to his desk, all the way on the other side of the precinct, and you sigh.

Cash…

You had been partners for nearly a year upon your addition to the police department. More than that, you had been friends… or so you’d thought. You’d been a great team, and had a higher rate of solved cases than any other pair of officers in the precinct. You had so many memories associated with him: “take-out stake-outs” where you’d gorged yourself on Chinese food while waiting for a perp to appear, working a case late-night at your desks and spit-balling ideas until you’d cracked it, celebratory beers at the local watering hole that all the cops frequented when you solved a case.

But that was before his suspension.

You still didn’t know what he had done to warrant the suspension; no one would tell you. It had all happened so suddenly; you had been working a case, splitting up to follow separate leads, and he had gone radio silent. Upon your return to the precinct hours later, Cash’s desk across from yours had been cleared out, and the Chief had called you into his office telling you that you would be getting a new partner, that Cash had been suspended.

The Chief had adamantly refused to tell you what had happened, only that you were being reassigned and that Cash would be back in a few weeks, pending approval by the review board.

When he had returned, it was like he was a completely different person. Before, he had been energetic, eager to talk, laugh, get the job done. Now he was quiet, and angry, and didn’t seem to want anything to do with anyone, especially you. It was like he had completely shut you out of his life overnight without so much as a goodbye, let alone an explanation.

In the beginning, you had been persistent, trying to get him to crack a smile or laugh with you at first. But nothing worked. He would walk away whenever anyone approached him, keeping his head down; the only person you’d seen him speak to other than the Chief (and even that was only when necessary) was his new partner, Glen, and they didn’t seem to work much together, often working separate cases in silence.

Your eyes are still on Cash as he takes his seat at his desk; you can’t help it, you’re worried about him. You missed him, as both a partner and a friend.

His pale blue eyes lock with yours, and he stares at you intensely for a moment before giving you a brief glare, then pointedly looking away.

You’ve been feeling uneasy for awhile now. Cash had shared your sense of justice when you had been working together; it was one of the things that you’d had in common. The few case reports of his you’d managed to get your hands on since his suspension had mentioned reckless, unpredictable behaviour, and it had you worried.

For awhile now, you’ve been trying to figure him out, and you think you may have an idea of what he’s up to. You wouldn’t put it past him to do something dangerous, a ‘Hail Mary’ where he would put himself in harm’s way to save the day, and get back into the department’s good graces. Because he often worked alone, Glen off doing his own work, no one would be there to check him, keep him from doing something stupid.

You had been debating going to the Chief with your concerns about Cash over the past couple of months. You had no evidence to support your claims, just that gut instinct that had served you well on the force numerous times before. Unfortunately for you, Chief Levinson was the definition of a by-the-book, no-nonsense police officer; he didn’t operate the precinct based off of hunches.

Still, you had done great work since joining the department, and maybe your spotless record would give him reason to take you seriously, despite your lack of evidence. You owed it to Cash – at least, the memory of the Cash that he used to be – to give it a shot. You would hate yourself if you didn’t at least try to look after him, especially if he wound up doing something stupid.

You grab a random casefile off of your desk, using it as a pretense to go and speak to the Chief. Locking your computer, you get up, walking over to the Chief’s office and knocking on the open door.

“Officer L/N. What can I do for you?” Chief Levinson asks, looking up from his desk after a moment of you awkwardly hovering in his doorway.

“Got a second, Chief? I’ve got something I want to run by you,” you ask, clutching the casefile more tightly than necessary, making sure that he can see it.

“Sure thing, come on in.”

Cash’s piercing gaze tracks your movements as you walk into the Chief’s office, closing the door behind you.

---

You take a seat across from the Chief, his ornate wooden desk between you, and try not to appear nervous.

“So, what’s this all about? What case are you working?” he asks, skipping the pleasantries. Chief Levinson had never been a man who liked to waste time being cordial.

“Actually, Sir… this isn’t about a case.”

You don’t miss the way that his jaw ticks. He had quite a short fuse when he was stressed, and the quarterly report he’d recently submitted to the Commissioner had been less than satisfactory. It wasn’t as though the department wasn’t solving crimes, but the sheer volume of them as of late had been overwhelming the precinct.

“I certainly hope you’re not here to talk about the weather, L/N. We’ve got more open cases than we know what to do with; I don’t have time for idle chitchat. You certainlydon’t have time for it,” he chides you, and you bite your tongue to keep your face carefully neutral.

“I understand, Sir. This isn’t for a case, but it’s something that I think needs to be brought to your attention.”

“Well, spit it out then, L/N. I haven’t got all day,” he tells you gruffly.

“It’s about Cash, Sir.”

“Officer Ewing? What about him?”

“I’ve been concerned for awhile now that he’s going to do something risky. He lives for this job, Sir, and he’s changed since his suspension. I think he may do something drastic to try to earn the department’s respect back. Your respect, Sir.”

The man leans back in his chair, surveying you quietly for a moment with a contemplative expression.

“I see. And what evidence do you have that makes you suspect this?”

“I worked side-by-side with Cash for months, Sir. I really feel like I know him.”

Or knew him, a cruel voice whispers in your head. You ignore it.

“I asked for evidence, L/N. We don’t deal in speculation in this precinct,” he tells you firmly.

You’re mildly worried you’re going to make yourself bleed from how hard you’re biting your tongue.

“I understand, Sir. I… I don’t have any evidence, just a hunch.”

“I can appreciate your concern, Y/N,” the Chief says kindly, and you stiffen at his use of your first name; it came across to you as patronizing, though you’re fairly sure he’s not trying to be. “I know that it hasn’t been easy for you since Cash’s suspension, and that you don’t like being kept in the dark.”

“It’s not about me, Sir, I –” you start to protest, but he interrupts you.

“But I sincerely doubt that Officer Ewing will do anything that isn’t strictly by-the-book. He knows he’s on thin ice after his suspension, and he won’t want to rock the boat.”

“But Sir–”

“Do not concern yourself with Officer Ewing, L/N. That’s an order. Now, I suggest you get back to work – I’ve seen the amount of open casefiles on your desk.”

“Yes, Sir,” you say through gritted teeth. “Thank you for your time.”

You leave his office without another word, refusing to look across the room to Cash.

You spend the rest of the day angrily typing up reports.

---

The evening finds you sitting alone at Hank’s, the local cop bar, nursing a beer. You’re still grumpy about how your chat with the Chief went, staring into space as you try to figure out what more you can do to get him to take you seriously.

“What’s got you all surly and seething?” comes a voice from behind you. Turning your head slightly, you see Cash standing next to you, still towering over you even from your tall perch on the bar stool. He’s wearing his dark leather jacket on top of his uniform, and lightly tinted sunglasses, despite being indoors at night. What a tool, you think to yourself.

“Are you speaking to me, Officer Cash?” you ask with mock surprise, your eyes wide as you put a hand on your chest. The sort-of nickname slips from your lips easily; he’d always hated his last name, so you’d taken to calling him Officer Cash when you’d first started working together. “To what do I owe the honour?”

It’s been months since he’s bothered to say a word to you, months since you stopped trying to reach out. To your surprise, he takes the seat next to you, and you silently raise a questioning eyebrow up at him. He says nothing, and you gnash your teeth.

“That seat’s taken,” you snap at him, irritated.

“By who, your imaginary friend? Grow up.” He holds up two fingers to the barkeep, who slides him over two beers. Cash wordlessly pushes one over to you as you finish your first, and pushes his sunglasses to the top of his head.

“What do you want, Cash?” you ask him tiredly, pointedly ignoring the proffered beverage.

“Why do you assume I want something?” he asks, cocking his head and staring at you, eyes unblinking. You look away first, lowering your gaze to the chain he wore around his neck.

“I don’t know, Cash. Maybe because you haven’t bothered to speak to me in months,” you growl at him angrily, still refusing to meet his eyes; you don’t want him to see how much his absence has affected you.

“Crime’s been on the rise. We’ve both been busy,” he replies, clearly avoiding the actual subject.

“Don’t give me that crap. You’ve been avoiding me ever since you got back from your suspension.” You scowl, snatching the beer he’d passed to you off of the counter and taking a swig.

“We’d been reassigned partners by the time I came back,” is all he says, and you roll your eyes at the weak excuse.

“We were also friends, Cash!” you hiss, trying to keep your voice down, but you’re getting angry. You’ve been wanting an explanation for ages now, but the opportunity to hear one finally presenting itself to you while in the presence of alcohol wasn’t ideal; you tended to get mouthy when you drank.

“We were friends,” you repeat softly, a wash of sadness coming over you as you speak the words. “It shouldn’t have mattered that we were reassigned.”

“Yeah well, things change,” he retorts, refusing to elaborate. You glower at him, anger replacing your grief in an instant. Cash had always been able to set you off, even back when you had been working together.

“Clearly. Whatever you did to get suspended must’ve involved you shoving your head up your ass.”

“Don’t talk about things you don’t understand, Y/N,” he warns you, his voice tight.

“Of course I don’t understand! No one will tell me what happened! You won’t tell me what happened. Forgive me for wondering what my so-called partner did to nearly get himself kicked off the force!” you seethe, jaw clenching as you feel your throat constrict, the way it tended to when you were about to cry. And you would not be crying in front of Cash Ewing; not tonight, not ever.

But damn, him abandoning you with no explanation had hurt you even more than you’d thought it had.

“You know that what goes on in disciplinary hearings has to remain confidential.”

“Yeah, yeah. It still doesn’t explain why you haven’t talked to me since coming back. You’re always disappearing, going off by yourself, and I’ll be honest with you, Cash: I think it’s sketchy as hell.”

You emphasize the last sentence, wanting to let him know that you were suspicious about what he was doing and that you had been keeping an eye on his movements, and he stiffens. The look he gives you is honestly terrifying – a wide, piercing stare, like he was trying to read your mind – but you refuse to look away first, setting your jaw. After a long moment, he lowers his gaze, taking a swig of his beer.

“Mind your own damn business,” he snaps at you, and that sets you off.

“I was, up until you decided to deign me with your presence. Why’d you even bother coming over here?”

He takes a long drink, looking past you with a thousand-yard stare.

“Wanted to ask if you needed help with that case you went to the Chief about,” he says knowingly, and something about the intense way he’s looking at you sends a shiver down your spine. What had he heard?

“…But forget it. Forget all of it, Y/N,” he suggests firmly, his mouth twisting into a cross between a grimace and a smile. He quickly polishes off his drink, sliding the bottle over to the barkeep and leaving without a word. You stare after him as he walks out the door, feeling frustrated.

That last thing he said had sounded awfully like a warning to you…

He was up to something.

You’re going to find out what.

---

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Not really a fun fact, but Cash’s character doesn’t have an official last name (neither does Glen’s, which is CRAZY to me since cops are usually called Officer L/N), so I used the last name of the character from TIG’s first acting role, Catlin Ewing.

(Side note: Has anyone watched him in Another World? I’m not really a soap opera person, but I mean, it IS TIG, so let me know if I should check it out!)

#thomas ian griffith #cash #cash x reader #black friday 2007 #the kidnapping 2007 #dark desires october #disorderly conduct #eventual smut

[boblittlepage-blog]

I'm Confused About Something...

A brief update for the uninitiated, which probably means everyone. Sometime back, I attempted to strike up a friendship with noted online semicelebritytype Indigo White, who you may know from her many productions of video entertainment not intended for younger viewers (do the math). Yes, I first came across her the same way most guys do (let's just say my prostate has never been healthier), but then I started watching her YouTube videos, and was very impressed with her intelligence, sense of humor, and levelheadedness. I'm very drawn to intelligence, and decided this is someone I'd actually like to know. And through chats during live streams and interactions on Twitter and Fansly, things seemed to be proceeding nicely. I'd like to think that I made it clear that I wasn't just another dweeb who'd parasocially bonded to some e-girl, that this was genuine affection for her as a person. Seeing that in writing makes it sound weird, but so be it, let's move on.

Some time ago, Indigo came out as trans, and was now a boy. Despite the change in personal pronouns to he/him, and now sporting shorter, Beatle-ish hair, nothing much was going to change content-wise, no plans for surgery or hormones (which begs the question of just how trans was Indy actually, but we'll not deal with that here, or anywhere else for now, it's largely irrelevant).

Okay, fine, I'll play along, so long Indy didn't feel the need to undergo anything permanent, (again, usually an indicator that something else is going on, not gender dysphoria), so no harm no foul.

In the meantime, I've gotten to know several detransitioners online, and heard their horror stories about how they'd been suckered into the whole gender ideology thing (which, by the way, is the creation of a very sick man, John Money, a pedophile who should be listed right alongside Joseph Mengele for the work he did directly with a couple of twin boys, both ending in suicide, but also for his sham "work" being baked into the psychiatric and medical industries before the true horror of his acts were finally made public. The result is that actual gender dysphoria, the kind where major gender reassignment surgery is the only workable treatment, has largely been pushed aside for people who are suffering from other, less serious issues, generally from some childhood trauma, like puberty in general, and turning garden variety identity crises into reasons for these sufferers, largely teenagers, who we must remember are still highly impressionable are generally stupid, to permanently wreck their biochemistry and mutilate their bodies).

So, during one live stream, I get wind of Indy trying to work up the courage to get what is euphemistically referred to as "top surgery", i.e., a double mastectomy, for no other reason than a long time hatred of them. Turns out Indy got those DD tiddies pretty much full force, virtually overnight, and besides being literally painful, anybody who's been to school between the ages of 9 to 15 can fill in the blanks of what the reaction of the other kids was. Also keep in mind that the amygdala, the lizard part of the brain that handles trauma and triggers the ol' fight-or-flight response, doesn't differentiate between actually life threatening situations and a snide comment from a 4th grade teacher at the wrong time, trauma is trauma, and can have life altering effects, especially in kids. We're generally not even aware of this happening until pointed out to us. Digging through Indy's Tumblr, apparently there's some additional trauma back there, that is triggering enough that I'm not going to even try and ask about it, but we're still talking a response to trauma. One day, it'll have to be dealt with, not just painted over with a big ol' "Congrats! You're Trans!" label. That's not therapy, that checking a box so somebody can make a boat payment. Since lives are at stake with this nonsense, I get very pissed off.

Anyway.

Back to the case at hand. I, hoping to spare Indy the kind of life wrecking pain I've seen others going through, began pushing for the alternative of breast reduction. Less invasive, faster recovery, and coming to the conclusion that, yes, Indy's tits WERE too big (5'4", 110 lbs, shouldn't be any bigger than a B, maybe closer to an A).

Enter the Affirmation Brigade, standing by and cheering Indy forward to go forth and be sliced up like a Sunday roast, to advance the cause of TRANS RIGHTS! Which I see as an attempt to validate their own sorry existences at the expense of someone else's health and well being. Well, during an engagement with one of these ghouls, things got rather heated, and more than a little ugly. I don't particularly regret anything I said, I would've preferred it didn't have to be in the form of calling out the other person as a butcher. Not because it was inaccurate (it wasn't), but because it was somewhat undignified.

Cue another set of angry DMs with Indy, demanding that I knock it off or get banned. I'd said everything I felt needed saying, so feeling no need to press the issue any further, certainly not publicly, I agreed. And things got more or less back to normal.

However, I reached out to a noted doctor who deals with the whole trans issue, and, with a couple of links, one to Indy's Twitter profile, the second to the coming-out video on YouTube, and asked for a professional opinion. Mainly, I wanted some guidance on whether I was doing the right thing by trying to be the lone voice against the affirmation chorus, trying to make the point that major invasive surgery over a personality issue is probably a very, very bad idea. Had I pushed too far, or should I stand my ground? One of the recurring themes I'd been hearing from detransitioners was that nobody ever challenged them, made them stop and think it out, WHY did they think they were trans? Could it be something else? Let's figure this out BEFORE we start lopping off perfectly healthy body parts, and see if we can find a less bloody and traumatizing solution. We live in a world where unless you blindly affirm the choice, you're a (fill in the blank). Well, sorry, but if the Emporer is walking down Broadway bloody starkers, I'm gonna say something.

Fast forward to a couple days later, this has gotten back to Indy, and the response in DM was thermonuclear. What right did I have to do this, I'm insane, etc., etc., and that was it, I'd been given too many chances already, I was banned, with the final shot being, and I quote, "Unblocking you to say one final thing. If I didn’t have the support i have and live where i do, what you did could have gotten me killed. Think about that. Fuck you."

Okay, back that up a little.

I posted a link to a PUBLIC Twitter page, with a link to a PUBLIC YouTube video (which Indy posted herself/himself TWICE, and has pinned to various other social media sites), disclosed no information, and only asked for "a professional opinion." (For the record, the only response I got back from the doctor was "Nope.") How in this, or any other reality could that endanger anybody? Did I overstep? Okay, I'll grant that. Wasn't the first time, pretty sure it won't be the last. But possibly getting Indy killed? Sorry, but I need to hear the twisted logic that comes to that conclusion, because I ain't seeing it, and I took Logic in college, I know a thing or two about false premises and the strange places they lead.

I would like to rebuild this relationship, if possible, but I'm not holding my breath. Clearly what I did incensed Indy, and it's not likely it'll be easy to walk that back. I would still like to have that explanation, though. If you're gonna throw down something like my being responsible for possible manslaughter, I think I'm at least owed that much.

Again, Indy (if you've read this far), my DMs are open, and I did give you my phone number, provided you haven't deleted the DM (doesn't seem like it, because I've still got 'em on my end). I'm ready for peace when you are.

#itsindigowhite

[astraltrickster]

It's probably at least partially unavoidable by nature of the human animal, the Story Primate, but one of the big problems with the way we use stories to help us build a template for reality is that it often leaves us woefully underprepared for what a major historical event - a future story - feels like when we're living it.

To make an engaging story, you have to trim the fat. You have to use shorthand. You have to build tension. You have to make the stakes palpable at nearly every moment.

This doesn't mesh well with how slow these events often are, and how mundane they feel, in reality. It's hard to show a character scheduling a therapy session to figure out how to cope with the fact that they can't afford to move away from a location threatening to pass a genocidal law targeting a group they're part of, not without feeling like it's minimizing the situation. It's hard to show a car full of refugees taking a side trip to a tourist trap on their way to a safe destination, even though those with the means often do - unless you're really good at writing stories where that contrast is the point, it comes across as them refusing to take their own situation seriously. You can't really show the banal bleakness of fighting for your right to survive, narrowly escaping being killed at a protest, then going right back to work the day after as if nothing happened - not in a way that truly captures how simple and natural that return often feels, how it may be enough to make you wonder if the fight is even really happening after all, because this isn't what it's supposed to feel like, is it? Shouldn't everyone be reacting more?

We've been living through major historical events almost non-stop for several years now. It doesn't always feel like it. It feels like any old Tuesday. Is it any wonder so many people think covid is over, when all the politicians and businesses are doing everything in their power to make life FEEL Normal Again despite the still-omnipresent signs for pop-up covid testing stations? Is it any wonder that there are wealthy white cis gays resting on their laurels, content that we, the queer community as a whole, are totally not facing any serious threat, convinced that "genocidal" is too strong a term for the laws being passed about trans people in several states despite them being, in no uncertain terms, on step 7 out of 10? They're waking up, going to the office like they always do, getting a beer after work - and the bar doesn't go silent when the news runs a report on yet another dead queer person. It's background noise. New records in police brutality? The world keeps turning. People keep living their lives.

This isn't how it happens in stories, at least not ones we explore for fun. Maybe in a few classics, in those tales that are meant to be educational in an emotionally evocative way, but that read as painfully dry to someone just looking to relax and have fun. The fun ones are fast-paced compared to reality - you're only given enough breathing time to keep yourself wondering, the tension must be just right throughout, that's what separates a powerful-but-dry story from an exciting one you'll be daydreaming about for months. There's a great triumphant moment where the heroes all come together to save the day and the mundane fades away, never to be seen again. There's no room for fully evoking the feeling of continuing to go about your daily routine - to go to work, go to school, pick up your niece from soccer practice, get your hair cut, go out dancing, listen to meme songs on your daily commute - all while the news reports on the world burning.

But until the fire catches you personally - which may have happened yesterday, may happen tomorrow, or may never happen at all, and who you are guarantees nothing, only changes your odds - you can't see the burning. You only know that it's happening.

It feels real, and terrifying, and yet at the same time, it's as distant as fiction. It feels like fiction. If it were real, it would take over your life, wouldn't it?

But it doesn't. The characters in these thrilling tales - they're not real people, even if they're based on them. They're symbols. Real human people like us, on the other hand, cannot maintain the precision-controlled tension levels required to make A Good Story 24/7. Our lives are not bound by laws of emotionally evocative timing. We work our crisis response into our ordinary lives. The world keeps turning. We flee a disaster, and we say "fuck it, let's use this as an excuse to get a real nice dinner, we deserve it." We turn off news about attacks on our community to go wash the dishes, listening to The Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny. We make escape plans in case we need them, then go right back to sharing stupid takes about our favorite characters in the #get-a-load-of-this-guy-cam channel in our 5-person friend group's Discord server. We still get bored. We keep laughing about unfortunate sign burn-outs, making cat memes, and drawing silly doodles of silly subjects, not for levity, but because we're bored.

The stories say that life stops for things like this. The reality is that it doesn't. Emotionally, we believe the stories.

History never feels like history when you're living it.

For whatever it's worth, we know it felt the same to most of the people in the history books, too.

#serious tag #media #writing #history #current events #human design flaws #see also: a million is a statistic

[aquaburst3]

So...after a VERY long week, I want to spill my salt somehow by ranking the TWST Books. Some things first...

I'll be using the MAL scale, so 1 means outright garbage, 5 means it's okay and 10 means awesome. I'm not gonna include Diasomnia because of spoilers. (I will say rn that it gets a 4/10).

I'm not considering issues with the game as a whole like Yuu being an inactive protagonist, just at the arcs themselves.

Keep in mind, this is all my personal opinion. If you disagree with any of my takes, great. I don't care. You're entitled to your opinion, and I'm entitled to mine.

Though, I might save that for another post. Let's get to it!

The Prologue: 5/10 Reason: There are some good bits here like the ominous opening with us waking up in the coffin, Yuu being proactive with the mine bit, and a good introduction to the main friend group. There are downsides as well. Parts of it could've been streamlined better. For example, I don't think including both the statue being burnt and the candelier falling is necessary. One of those should've been scrapped to make the pacing snappier. Hell, that's exactly what happens in the manga. Yuu should've had much more of a negative reaction to being isekaied. While I know they think it's a dream, but they're like, "I've been transported to another world where everyone I know and love don't exist? Cool." And to add insult to injury, they have a good sleep after the first night. Like, what? What kind of person would have that reaction? It's an okay start, but it could've been a lot better.

Heartslabyul: 6/10 Reason: The writing in this arc is pretty good. The stakes are reasonably high, you get introduced to great characters, Riddle is a great antagonist for this arc, Ace gets his moment in the sun and it does a good job at mixing in the movie/book while doing its own thing.

There are still some issues. Yuu isn't really proactive, and it's more Ace who drives the plot here. The pacing seems really off, since I don't think the whole "baking the tart" thing was necessary for reasons I'll mention in a bit. There are also plot holes like if Ace's older brother attended Night Raven and told him about sleeping spots, why the fuck is he so shocked about everything, including basic information like the dorm names? Shouldn't he know this shit by now? And why didn't he just straight up challenge Riddle to the position of dorm leader without putting up with the tart BS? It seems more in character for him.

Over all, an overall decent arc, but nothing to write home about.

Savanaclaw: 2.5/10 Reason: And then, things immediately tank. xD If you ask someone in the western TWST fandom what their least favourite arc is, they'll most likely name this one. There's a reason for that. It's total shit.

The Lion King elements feel shoehorned.

The mystery is extremely obvious. Despite Ruggie using his powers right in front of Yuu, no one expects a damn a thing.

Instead of being being cunning foes, Leona and Ruggie are turned to idiots, who telegraph their plans and boast about how evil they are like telenovela villains. This pisses me off, since in the rest of the game while Leona is very lazy, he's also cunning, smart and charismatic. He's like a chessmaster who knows what moves to make. I would've loved to see that Leona in this arc.

Right before Leona overblots, he uses his powers on Ruggie out of anger and almost turns him to dust. Despite this, they go back to normal like nothing happened. This pisses me off so much. First off all, why the hell did Leona do this to Ruggie in the first place? He did nothing wrong. If anything he should do this to Jack, who foiled his plans. Second, why the fuck isn't there any fallout after that? Ruggie was almost murdered! You would think that he would be pissed off at him for what he did, and Leona would have to make it up to him. I know if that were to happen to me I would be pissed off at the very least.

Leona doesn't have a lot of involvement with the story, despite being the main antagonist for that chapter.

Epel is on the magishift team, but his thoughts on this situation and the whole deal with Leona is never addressed.

Why the fuck didn't Ruggie overblot? The game gives the impression to me. He's the one who constantly uses his powers and has everything to lose, not Leona. Hell, making it so Ruggie overblot instead would be killing two birds with one stone, since it would fix that plot hole while also fixing the issue of Leona having no consequences for his actions and not feeling any regret.

Leona's motivation is hardly explored in this arc.

Like always, Yuu doesn't do a damn thing despite them being the protagonist.

Why is Leona's first plan the stampede? Wouldn't Malleus be able to teleport away?

Over all, a shit arc and wasted potential.

Octanivelle: 8/10 Reason: This is by far the most competently written out of all the TWST arcs. Azul is a cunning foe, Yuu is an actual proactive protagonist for once, and the plot is pretty solid. The only nitpicks I have with it is that the Savanaclaw characters should've been more involved in the plot, Azul being able to memorize all that info seemed like bullshit and there is a huge continuity error with the photo that makes Azul come off like a dumbass. (The game takes place in 2020, meaning that smartphones were popular at the time Azul's fat photo was taken. The fact that the photo could be floating around online never ONCE considered. I honestly chalk this up with Yana being an out of touch Gen Xer.) Other than that, solid writing and a great arc.

Scarabia: 7/10 Reason: This one is pretty solid too. Yuu is a proactive protagonist for once, most likely because they only could rely on Grim for half of it. xD The Octanivelle Trio are great. It does a great job at mixing in the Aladdin movies while doing its own thing. There are some issues holding it back like Kalim forgiving Jamil way too damn easily, Jamil being the colpurit being a bit to obvious (but it's more forgivable here since the investigation isn't the point of the arc like with Savanaclaw), the Octanivelle Trio stealing Jamil's thunder too much at times and the idea of them digging out of Scarabia makes no sense. (Seriously, even if that was possible, their room is on top of a tower, wouldn't they just fall and plumpt to their deaths?) Over all, pretty good arc.

Pomefiore: 6/10 Reason: Things go downhill from here. The first half before the training starts is pretty solid. But afterwards issues begin to arise...

The pacing feels extremely off. Sometimes it feels padded out while others it feels extremely rushed, especially after the first day until the day of the festival. I wish that certain parts were scrapped so the story could focus on more important things.

It didn't explore the aftermath of Jamil and Kalim's relationship nearly enough.

Epel does a complete 180 on his views on gender norms in one single afternoon. Sorry, but that's not how that works in real life. People are stubborn, and some never budge. If someone does change their mind about something, it would take months if not longer. He's been living with those stereotypes all his life, so he's even less likely to budge quickly. I think it'd make more sense for him to go "Oh, I see what you're saying, but…" then immediately accept it.

Others have mentioned this before, this arc has a problem of setting up certain characters to get their moment in the sun, but then give it to someone else. The biggest example is the arc setting up that Epel will have a climatic moment where he confronts Vil, but it's Deuce who does instead, despite the little set up. If she wanted Deuce to have the climatic moment, then there should've been more foreshadowing for it.

Vil and Neige's backstory seems like something Yana pulled straight out of her ass, because it makes zero sense. How the fuck is Neige able to live with a group of minors who have the mental capacity of kindergartners without being taken by CPS? Why the fuck didn't Vil know that Neige was poor already? He works with him constantly! (Honestly, I'm 99% sure she did pull it out of her ass. There was a huge incident before Ignihyde debuted in the JP fandom where the JP fans sent her and Rook VA death threats for the ending of Pomefiore. It seems like something she came up with on the spot to plaicate that complaint and make Neige look better, but it failed anyway.)

Vil's backstory made it come off as he had almost no problems.

Why aren't Vil and Neige stepbrothers? It would make their connection much simpler and align Vil up more with the Evil Queen.

Neige and Vil had no direct interaction before the climax.

NRC losing the competition is bullshit. NRC was the better performers while Neige's routine sucked.

The usual issue of Yuu not doing anything to advance the plot is also there.

Where the the fuck is Jack in all this? He and Vil are FRIENDS, so you would think that he would be concerned about Vil and want to stop him from overblotting.

The stuff before is solid, but the stuff after the training camp starts sucks. So it evens out to slightly above average.

Ignihyde: 3/10 Reason: Going against popular opinion, but...I think this one REALLY sucks and is almost on par with Savanaclaw. Because...

Everyone is a total dumbass

There's loads of worldbuilding that comes straight the fuck out of nowhere.

The ending of Jamil and Kalim's character arc infuriates me. Instead of setting Jamil's family free, they go back to the status quo and Jamil is supposed to be happy with it!? Bullshit! (Kalim should've set the Vipers free. Period. No ifs, ands or buts about it.)

Yuu and Idia hardly interact.

Yuu loses their home, and has no reaction to it.

The ending makes Vil look like a total dumbass for never considering just making an antidote to turn himself back to normal like how the Evil Queen would've done in the movie if she wasn't killed off and makes Malleus a Gary-Sue Deus ex Machina.

Leona's reading on Jamil is so inaccurate that it makes me genuinely wonder if Yana even understands her own characters.

Ortho has no personality outside of being a stereotypical child character and is more of a prop for Idia's character.

While I don't usually comment about the gaming mechanics, but the mini games in this one are frustrating as hell. I heard of people rage quiting with this arc, because they are that unfunctional.

Over all, an overrated arc and is total shit in my opinion.

Over all score so far (in my opinion): 62%, or just above average Thoughts: The game has a very strong premise and a mostly solid cast, but there are a lot of things that hold it back from being truly amazing. Certain arcs are better than others. Over all, it's just okay. For a mobile game, that's rather impressive. Twst is best as a jumping point for transformative work. The writing is decent, especially for a phone game, but if you take the premise, characters, setting and just run away with it, you could write something so much more detailed and fleshed out yourself. I think that's why I enjoy writing fics in this fandom so much. It's a fun sandbox to play in. I can use the game's elements to create something far better, fixing any writing issues in the process like the shitty worldbuilding and Yuu being passive protagonist.

#twst negative #aqua rambles #twisted wonderland

[themculibrary]

Tony/Phil Masterlist

Acting Up (ao3) - arianapeterson19 T, 1k

Summary: Tony Stark is nothing like they thought he would be. They thought living with Tony would be like one great big, acid trip of an adventure. But it was surprisingly not.

OR

The one where the Avengers give Tony a hard time for being subdued and then find out why.

All Cooked Up (ao3) - CeliaEquus E, 2k

Summary: Everyone feels sorry for Phil, having such a wild, difficult Omega for a mate. Little do they know...

Billionaire's cake (ao3) - everythingispoetry G, 16k

Summary: The first time Phil gets to eat something baked by Tony, it's purely accidental. The other times - not so much. Or: a story about a relationship that starts with donuts and doesn't end because of donuts.

Breaking Perimeter (ao3) - derryderrydown G, 821

Summary: How did Tony get past Coulson's guard in Iron Man 2?

calm (ao3) - orphan_account E, 5k

Summary: Coulson was assigned to be Stark's handler. Stark didn't take to following orders the way Coulson expected.

Don't touch him (ao3) - awesome_goddess_of_mischief M, 3k

Summary: After Phil's death, the team moves into Stark tower to keep bonding. Tony is wearing himself thin trying to honour his husband's last wish, for the team to be together.

But it's slowly starting to become too much.

The team bullies continuely. Until one day the genius breaks. Luckily there's an unexpected guest ready to put the pieces back together again.

How to Court a Genius (ao3) - CeliaEquus E, 7k

Summary:

"Hey, Jarv. Who left this?" "The gift is from Agent Coulson, sir." Tony looked up, jaw dropping. "Agent? Why would he leave me… flowers? Kind of." He put the shape tool back in the stand, and played absently with the petals. "I cannot imagine why anyone would gift another person with flowers such as these; but then you are not like other people, sir. Nor is Agent Coulson."

In which Phil goes all out courting Tony, who has no idea how to respond to it all. But he's definitely being swept off his feet!

Just Tonight (ao3) - smaragdbird G, 1k

Summary: Coulson helps Tony with figuring out how to cure his palladium poisoning. Fury thinks Coulson is having Stockholm syndrome.

Let's Celebrate (That I Found You) (ao3) - Roodles T, 4k

Summary: It's Tony's first Christmas as a married man, and things have changed. The stakes seem a little higher, and it's not just strip poker and Star Trek marathons anymore... Islands are fantastic Christmas presents, right?

Lost Halves (ao3) - SiniseSnakeEyes T, 27k

Summary: He had been around four when Maria Stark had found him in her private garden. He had been glad in strange clothes, which had been to big for him and seemed to be better fitted for an adult instead of a child. Maria Stark, always a gentle soul, approached the child that shouldn’t be here – in a garden that was located on a private property far away from the next bigger city – and kneeled before the confused looking boy...

Off Script (ao3) - bear_bell T, 18k

Summary: Agent Coulson sees Stark smile, and he's compromised.

Orders from the Director (ao3) - Silver_KnightShade G, 14k

Summary: Coming back to the US by orders of the Director of SHIELD, they Rogue Avengers didn't know what they were walking into. They thought there was some kind of emergency they had to help with. They never thought they would be faced with an angry husband.

Rejection (ao3) - CeliaEquus G, 4k

Summary: Based on a prompt on the Avengers Kink Meme.

On his 25th birthday, Tony Stark finds his soul-mate, Phil Coulson. But his reputation is the ultimate barrier, and Phil rejects him. When SHIELD becomes interested in Tony fifteen years later, they send their best agent to him. And then the Avengers Initiative happens. Now working together, Phil realises just how big a mistake he's made. But will Tony ever forgive him?

THEN (ao3) - Era_Penn M, 18k

Summary: Questions flung from the sidelines, from the reporters and fans and fellow stars. Always with the questions. Tony deflected or joked, generally being a nuisance. The media thought they knew all his dirty little secrets. They were wrong. ***** Phil Coulson was known as Evan tonight. There was a street fight destined to get bloody, and it was as good a place as any to look for new recruits; they’d tracked Barton down at a similar site years ago. One never knew when they’d find a gem among the trash.

Afghanistan was before and after, but they, they were then and now. This is the story of THEN.

Words we don't say (ao3) - smaragdbird M, 3k

Summary: Toni Stark is not Phil's type. And neither is Phil Toni's.

#themculibrary #mcu #marvel #tony stark #phil coulson #ironagent #ironagent masterlist #masterlists #m/m

[oldestenemy]

through another lens - flat root beer

Sam is still awake by the time Michael gets back up to his bedroom. He hovers in the doorway, uncomfortably aware of Nanook glaring him down from her spot at the foot of Sam’s bed. “Sammy.”

His younger brother drops the comic book in his hands with a yelp, fumbling with a sharpened piece of wood before laying eyes on Mike and settling back down. “Jesus, Mike. Any quieter with the walking and I’d think you were turning into an alien like grandpa instead of a vampire.”

Michael forces out a quiet laugh, but nods towards Nanook and says: “I think he’s still sour from the other night, send him downstairs would ya?”

It’s believable enough.

Sam doesn’t argue.

“What happened last night Mike? Why were you gone so long?”

The words twist Michael’s stomach.

Every blink runs red.

Every breath draws blood.

There is only the screaming.

“Don’t worry about it,” He mumbles, shaking his head in an attempt to knock the memory free. “I made it back, didn’t I?” Even fresher in mind is the feeling of David’s skin yielding under his teeth.

Christ.

“Are the rest of them—the boardwalk girl, David and the others, hell the little kid—fully turned?”

“No.” It comes out sharper than Michael means to let it, and he regrets making Sam flinch again. “No, sorry, they’re all like me.” Lie and truth weave together. He tries to tell himself it won’t matter soon anyway. Star and Laddie will be human, the lost boys will move down the coast and he’ll go with them. Maybe he’ll say the school runs night hours, mom and Sam won’t have to know.

“Then I’ll keep the Frogs away from them—they weren’t very keen on uhhhh, you, I had to talk them out of—” Sam mimes shoving a stake into his own heart. “—anyway—get some sleep, and don’t worry—we’ve got it all under control.”

It takes another half an hour of hushed argument to realize Sam is not going to back down on this one. Which means Michael needs to talk to everyone, and figure out how the hell to keep his brother from getting himself killed.

He doesn’t go back to his room for long, just to change his clothes again and carefully wipe whatever blood and sand was still clinging to his leather jacket.

“Michael.”

Jesus Sam wasn’t kidding about their grandfather being silent. Michael turns to see him standing in the doorway, the thick glasses he wore when taxiderming in his ‘studio’ perched on his nose.

“Grandpa?” Michael feels oddly exposed as his grandfather looks him up and down, then wordlessly sets one of his unlabeled root beer bottles on the dresser by the door. “What d’you—”

“—Goodnight, Michael.” Michael doesn’t know how to respond, he opens his mouth to find nothing but silence behind his teeth. And his grandfather walks out, steps fading into silence as soon as he’s beyond Michael’s line of sight.

He stares at the bottle, not really sure what the hell any of that exchange had been.

Sure, things in this house were weird but—not that weird.

He cracks the bottle, expecting the fizzy hiss that should come with breaking the seal. But there is only the pop of the metal against glass. There’s a moment where he thinks it’s flat, that it’s probably twice his age and very expired. And then he takes a whiff of the open bottle and—

—Shit, he almost drops it.

The scent makes his head pound, his mouth water—

It’s different, and cold, but it’s still blood.

Michael is halfway through the bottle when his mind catches up enough to make him choke.

Grandpa knows.

Knows and hasn’t said anything, knows and isn’t concerned, or at least not enough to ask—

Michael scrambles out of his bedroom towards the studio, pulling one of the doors open and finding his grandfather’s work space empty. Aside from the many many more stuffed creatures that made their final home within. It smells like blood, but of course it does, Grandpa spends most of his time cutting shit apart in here and stitching it back together—

Is he—

Is that—

Michael can’t think straight.

He looks down at the “root beer” bottle in confusion, sweeps the room one more time before making his way outside.

And heaves a sigh when he sees a familiar silhouette in the driveway.

“Hi Michael,” Marko is walking up between some of the wooden carvings that dot the yard out front. “figured I’d come get you since I was nearby.”

Michael frowns slightly, “Weren’t you going to— Delilah?”

“Mmmm, she isn’t far though, likes to keep to herself since her husband passed. Doesn’t get close to town very often.”

“Does this shit come with a class on speaking in riddles?”

Marko just grins, rather than offering an answer he tilts his head and says “What’ve you got there?”

Right.

The bottle.

“Uhhh… blood, apparently.” He’s barely got the words out before Marko is plucking the bottle from his hands, bringing it to his nose.

“Huh, weird, it’s a mix of a bunch of animal blood. Where’d you get this?”

“My… Grandpa.” Michael says slowly, looking back at the house. “He—”

Marko lets out a little gasp, pressing the bottle back into Michael’s hands. “Got it—I forgot you were Barnard’s grandson.”

“Barn—hang on!” Michael grabs Marko just as he’s turning away. “You can’t all keep doin’ this shit—tell me why the hell my grandfather has a whole refrigerator shelf full of animal blood. And why you know him.”

Marko raises his hands in surrender, “I don’t know him—but Delilah does. I did say she was likely to help us because of who was involved. She’s been sweet on your gramps for… shit, eight years?”

Michael swallows this information like a sack of rocks. Each word landing somewhere within him like a weight. “I—okay, so your creepy old-as-Max vampire connection is… is what—” oh gross he’s connecting way more dots than he’d like to be connecting right now.

Marko puts a hand overtop of the one Michael still has on his shoulder. “In hindsight, Max really should have known better. Delilah’s had claim on Barnard for half a decade, and by extension that makes your family off limits.”

Claim. Off limits.

Michael is reaching the fucking peak of how much new bullshit he can absorb.

“Is—is he safe?” Safe enough for mom and Sam? Safe enough from whatever is about to go down?

Marko’s expression softens a little, “Yeah, pretty sure he’s never killed anyone, but his choice of work keeps him fed enough not to be a threat.”

“He knows.” Michael whispers, “He—”

Marko smiles at him, still softer than before. “Then you’ve got one less thing to worry about.”

Read the rest here <3

#the lost boys fanfic #lost boys fanfiction #the lost boys 1987 #lost boys fandom #tlb 1987 #i have a writeblr for this but shh #i am a sucker for grandpa emerson being the precursor to what Alan does in the thirst alright? #i am a goddamn sucker for it #grandpa emerson has been a half vampire for going on half a decade and you Will not Change My Mind

[adleryoung]

I began to panic as I saw the failure of yet another attempt at starting a legacy and getting out of my prison. Not again! It was my hair cult all over again! But this time I would have the blood of an innocent femme and two teenagers on my hands!

I took deep breaths and tried to suppress the panic. This was a different situation. The hair cult had collapsed in my absence, but I was here this time. I could do what a true leader does, and save everyone. I just needed to get my thoughts together.

"Auggh!" I groaned as I grappled with the panic. How was it possible for everything to spiral out of control so quickly? And why did it have to happen to me??

No, I thought, shaking my head and forcing myself to breathe slowly. I had to focus! How would Vernier handle this if she were here?

Wait a second.

Rebecca had been living with Vernier! Vernier was associated with the coven! She could be next on the Wanted list if I didn't get this situation under control!

Suddenly the fog of panic left me. I felt calm, clear-headed, and decisive, just like Irenaeus before a battle. Only a few of my Ixies had gone to find Oak. There should still be plenty around to help deal with this problem. I summoned them.

"My young witches are under attack!" I briefed them, briefly. "Get out there and rescue Gretchen and Petunia! I don't know which is which, but they are the heavyset vixen and the, uh, bear or mouse or something. You remember them from the meet-up a few days ago. They are being harried by rabbits. Zap those rabbits. Hit them hard enough that they won't remember what happened. While they're unconscious, soak them with booze so nobody will believe their story, and they can't blame it on witches. If you see Burnside, tell her to head back here while keeping an eye out for intruders. Lives are at stake; move out!"

"Where can we find booze?" one Ixie asked.

"Move out!!" I commanded, and they buzzed away on their mission.

"I doubt that booze trick will work, my lord," Rebecca opined. "The rabbits of Bunkirk do not drink."

"All the more reason to suspect them if they come home stinking of rum," I replied grimly.

"What about Oonagh?" Rebecca asked.

"She's already been arrested," I mused. "Even if I could break her out of jail, wouldn't that just prove her guilt in the minds of her accusers? I WILL find a way to set this right, but I need to make sure everyone is safe first. Speaking of which …"

I summoned more Ixies. "Go warn Vernier, and keep guard over her. At the first sign of trouble, she is to be brought here."

Next I turned to Chloe. "Why in Fuma's name was the testimony of a single irritating and unlikable child enough to persecute a harmless old baker who was well loved by the community, and three minors guilty of nothing worse than bad taste in fashion?"

"Oh we were naughtier than that, my lord," Chloe insisted. "We were blasphemous and irreverent at the very least."

"Those are crimes punishable by going to bed without supper," I retorted. "What's the penalty for witchcraft in the lowfolk world? I have heard that it's pretty bad."

"Burning at the stake, I think?" Chloe gulped. "I'm not sure they still do that … but then again, it's been ages since anybody was arrested for witchcraft around here."

"To return to my initial question," I snapped, "how in the Netherhells did it come to this in the first place? Why would anyone take Didelphis's rantings seriously?"

"Most people didn't believe her at first," Chloe explained. "But she just wouldn't shut up. She screeched her story at everyone she met. She would open windows and screech her tales so passers-by could hear. It was a two day long tantrum where she just constantly screeched her twisted, false narrative to the world at large."

"Didn't Oonagh have anything to say about this terrible behavior?"

"Oonagh said Didelphis was just being rambunctious, and that it was normal for children at that age to make up fanciful fictions to amuse themselves. She spent most of the last two days trying to spoil Didelphis, and the old possum showed an amazing lack of gratitude. Anyway, yesterday some rabbits were in town, and they heard the screeching and they pointed out that the child bore an uncanny resemblance to the old crone who lived by herself in the dell. Somebody else mentioned that there was no smoke coming from the crone's shack the day before, and somebody else said it was odd that a strange child would suddenly show up like that. Didelphis declared that she was the crone and had been bewitched by Oonagh with the help of the White Elf, the rabbits took up the cry, and the town went berserk. They started smashing windows and attacking people. The magistrate ordered our arrests to appease the mob."

"Why are the rabbits allowed to harass people outside of their trashy little town?" I demanded. "Why do people put up with them?"

"They aren't that bad," Rebecca insisted. "They may be drab and humorless, but they are very reliable and completely trustworthy. They're good at making things. Our smiths and wheelwrights are some of the best."

"All of that," Chloe agreed. "Plus their ideological unity enables them to gang up very effectively. It was the rabbits of Bunkirk who beat back the Shoe Cult and all its mercenaries. The surrounding communities were grateful, and also a little scared, so Bunkirkers are pretty much given whatever they want. Nobody wants to wind up on their bad side. They keep growing bolder with their actions, and if they get away with this, it will only get worse."

#furry #elves #story #plot #adventure #cartoon #tboay

[rookie-critic]

Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret. (2023, dir. Kelly Fremon Craig) - review by Rookie-Critic

This movie really charmed me. I was, of course, aware of the book's existence and of Judy Blume in general (I had read the Fudge series of books in elementary school), but I'd never read it. So I had no idea what I was going into when I went and saw this a couple days ago. It turned out to be a lovely story that tackles female puberty, female identity, and complicated family dynamics in terms of religion in a very candid and unashamed way. It's a coming-of-age film that actually feels like our central character does just that; a year in the life film where we feel like our protagonist has gone on a journey and come out the other side of it changed. Not in some grand, high-stakes, movie way, but in a very human way. In a way that only a year of life experiences at that age could change you.

In the film, Margaret is a girl on the verge of entering the sixth grade, and is being forced to move from the bustling streets of New York City to the suburbs of New Jersey. From there the general things happen: she makes new friends, learns things about life and womanhood she was previously unaware of, has big talks with her mom (played by the always wonderful Rachel McAdams) about grandparents she's never met, and just exists as a pre-teen girl in 1970s America. Nothing particularly mind-blowing happens in the film's runtime, but the beauty of this story comes from all of the subtle changes and things that happen. The conversations with her new friends, her first crush, her curiosity about Judaism and Christianity as a result of being raised in non-religious household, and the culmination of all of these things as they shape the person you know Margaret will turn into as an adult as a result of these experiences.

I think what impressed me just as much as the main storyline with Margaret is how well embodied her mom is as a character. McAdams' Barbara Simon feels almost as important as Margaret and the story tries hard to show how the trauma of her parents affected her, and how much her and her husband Herb (a big, sweet doofus played by Benny Safdie) are trying to keep the stressors and potential trauma of extreme religion off of their daughter. It's wild to think of parents that are that supportive and progressive existing in that era of American history, but it's also a very refreshing to see an example of positive and affirmative parenting on screen. The deft hand with which directory Kelly Fremon Craig (whose previous film, The Edge of Seventeen, I also loved) handles religion in this is impressive. The condemnation of extreme devout-ism while not shunning the concept of personal faith away entirely is a bit of thin tightrope walk, but Craig and the entire cast walk it beautifully. Allowing Margaret to talk her perception of God on her own terms and the exploration of how that word means something different to everyone (if it means anything to them at all), and how all of those different meanings are ok, is a wonderful message to send. This is just one of those movies that, try as I might, I can't find a single thing to complain about. It's lovely, it's life-affirming, and it's a wonderful film for everyone, man, woman, young, old, and everything on the spectrum in-between, to enjoy. The most effortlessly great film so far this year.

10/10

Only in theaters. Also, the soundtrack is front-to-back bangers, and the costume design department on this film deserves a ton of praise, because all of the outfits in this were cute as hell.

#Are You There God? It's Me Margaret. #Kelly Fremon Craig #Judy Blume #Abby Ryder Fortson #Rachel McAdams #Kathy Bates #Benny Safdie #Elle Graham #Echo Kellum #Isol Young #Amari Alexis Price #Katherine Kupferer #Aidan Wojtak-Hissong #Kate MacCluggage #Zack Brooks #Mia Dillon #Gary Houston #Simms May #Landon Baxter #film review #movie review #2023 films

[theclaravita]

Lightfall Thoughts - Spoiler Heavy

So I've given the expansion a bunch of thought, played a bunch of the new stuff, done a bunch of testing, talked to a bunch of people, watched a bunch of videos... I have a list. It's a very depressing list. Filled with spoilers. And salt. Read at your own risk.

PROS

Strand is an absolute joy to play. I've only played on Warlock, but the general consensus that I'm seeing is that Strand is powerful, satisfying, and fun. The three things all subclasses should be.

Strand upgrade unlocks happen at a quick, satisfying pace. You can plan your build at the Pouka Pond, and Meditations drop really frequently, especially once you get to 1720+ and can actually start doing Terminal Overload for 100 per key. No bullshit questing requiring dead gamemodes. No strings, ironically enough.

Neomuna is gorgeous and full of lore references. As a lore junkie and devout watcher of My Name Is Byf, Neomuna is so fascinating and I see the history flowing out before me very clearly. You can see how the city is cradled by the rocky floating island it's on, how the cliffs around it are craggy and treacherous, and how the buildings are all very clearly Braytech/Ishtar Collective themed. The design is clearly inspired and thought-out: this city didn't pop into existence overnight and it feels like it.

The cutscenes are phenominally directed and cool. Almost all of the plot happens via gorgeously rendered cutscenes that had me leaning in and staring at my screen in awe. The events happening on-screen were baffling, terrifying, and made me acutely aware of the stakes. The deaths of the OG fireteam was... Chilling. And the Witness unnerved me in just the right way anytime they were present; even more so when Calus got his scolding for his failures.

The Loadout and Mod Systems are a godssend. I don't use the Loadout system nearly as much as I should... Which makes sense, seeing as I'm just above the soft cap for now. But the new Mods system is INSANE and lets me do disgusting things like INCREASE THE PASSIVE DAMAGE OF MY GJALLARHORN TO OVER 100K PER ROCKET. I've heard of people making builds that cause Winterbite to do over ONE MILLION DAMAGE. My current favorite casual build is orb spam with Osteo Striga + Necrotic Grip, then Kinetic Surge x2. Single projectiles are doing 3k-5k and it's ticking for 8k at times. It's FOUL in Terminal Overload and it carried me through the Classic Campaign.

The new Tower is great. Nothing else to say here; I like the tree and Cayde's memorial. The destroyed corner of the Tower was honestly jarring and pissing me off. I'm just that petty.

Vendor rankups are lightning fast. I'm already rank 30+ with Nimbus, rank 8 with the Vanguard, and I finally reset with Xur. I think I'm also around rank 10 with the War Table already, though I have no idea how; I think it grants EXP from Neomuna stuff too?

Nimbus.

CONS

So. Many. Bugs. I know it's said every update, but this feels like an open beta. The game's clearly done, but it needs polish. The amount of times I had graphical bugs during the amazing cutscenes really threw me out of the moment and undercut the gravity of those scenes. ("Osiris, I don't mean to interrupt my own training montage, but your robe seems to want to go back to Earth.") I've had a few game breaking bugs that I'll list here. - Player models turning invisible... Including my own, along with my weapons' sights and scopes as well. Every time it happens, it suddenly makes the game almost impossible to play. I can't see where I'm aiming when I ADS, there's no audio feedback from reloading or moving/jumping/gliding, and I never realized how much I relied on those audio cues while playing until they were gone. - The seasonal artifact keeps breaking. I've narrowed it down to the second column of perks for me, but not everyone is having this issue. If I unlock any of the mod authorizations, all of my perks stop activating -- including anti-Champion measures. - Commendations overview screen crashes my game. I've had it happen only once, but the fact that it happened at all is troubling. I've also heard of other people having this happen every time they open it, and Bungie has acknowledged it. It's still inexcusable that this wasn't caught. - Mods don't apply all the time. The new Mod system is great... When it works. Several times now, I've applied mods to test a buid and they just... Don't work. I thought I was misunderstanding their effects or something. Nope; sometimes you have to unequip and reequip mods to have their effects actually work. This specifically happens every time with the Empowered Finish mod, (I make sure I have no Armor Charge before trying, since it only grants a charge when you have none), and the Stacks On Stacks mod, (it regularly only grants a single Armor Charge unless I have two instances of the mod equipped).

Enemies are harder now, and we can't spam abilities as much... And the enemy placement did NOT change to accommodate this. If you're going to make an enemy one-shot with a clearly charged and obvious attack, MAYBE don't have FIVE OF THEM PERFECTLY POSITIONED TO BARRAGE ME NO MATTER WHERE I TAKE COVER. That shit worked when I had a Rift or Barricade every 45 seconds. I could weather it. I could huck a grenade over there and clear some space. But enemies are all sponges, they do an asston of damage, and I have NO FUCKING COVER. There's a BOSS-LEVEL HVT that's 1800+ that roams around IN THE SKY with two adds that follow it, similarly beefed up, THAT FLOAT DOWN INTO THE COVERED SPACES??? WHAT DO I DO AGAINST THAT??? I'M JUST TRYING TO DO A PATROL, MAN.

Lots and lots of kills credited to the Architects. I understand that you need a failsafe for when the player and enemy interact in an unexpected way... But RAGDOLLING MY GUARDIAN OUT OF THE MAP because an enemy GENTLY WALKED INTO ME is not valid. The most prevalent strategy I've seen deployed by minor enemies on Neomuna is crowding the player and pushing them into walls to death. Psions do it, War Beasts do it, Goblins do it. They just dash/run/teleport into you and push you around. Oh, got a Rift there? SEVEN WARBEASTS ALL ATTACKING YOU AT ONCE, DOING NO DAMAGE BECAUSE THEY'RE PUSHING EACH OTHER OUT OF THE WAY AND OOPS YOU'RE IN A WALL AND ARE CATAPULTED OUT OF THE MAP. WOE BE UPON YE, LIGHTBEARER.

Walls are not obstacles to enemies... And empty space is not a passage for players. The amount of times I've been killed by a Thresher from across the map, with multiple walls between me and it... Or better yet, getting headshot by a Hobgoblin that is glitched out of the map, on top of a building, behind an invisible barrier it can SHOOT THROUGH, when I'm literally UNDERGROUND. Or when the Tormenter just fuses with a wall, is nowhere near me, and somehow grapples me? DARK HARVEST, LIGHTBEARER. EAT SHIT. IT DEFIES SPACE AND TIME. Additionally, I've shot Gjallarhorn rockets into OPEN AIR, NOWHERE NEAR AN OBSTACLE, and it blew up in my face. I tested it afterward: if you stand in the very middle of the Zephyr Concourse (with the spinny gyroscope structure) and shoot out of the circle, there's a CHANCE that it will hit a wall that isn't there. It's one of the spinny things. At some point, they desync from the graphic and it blocks your path in midair. I tested it further: I was able to reliably get physics-killed by "nothing" by jumping when I knew it would be there based on previous cycles. I'd been in the area for four hours farming Terminal Overload (before I got a key, sadly), so maybe it just desyncs over time? Still stupid.

The open world is boring and unfun to traverse. It looks pretty. I appreciate the little lore references. But FUCK ME RUNNING it's a chore to traverse. There aren't enough grapple points for Strand, and the ones that are there serve no purpose. There's still annoying as fuck deathplanes and invisible barriers, sometimes RIGHT NEXT TO a grapple point, CLEARLY SET UP FOR ME TO JUMP UP ON TOP OF THAT BUILDING, but if I do I die or bounce out. There's too much ground clutter, too few sweeping avenues, too many bottomless pits, too few ledges to jump down from. THEY LITERALLY SHOWED A HUNTER DIVING OFF A BUILDING IN THE TRAILER. WHY CAN'T I FUCKING DO THAT. YOU LITERALLY SOLD THE FUCKING EXPANSION WITH THAT SHIT.

The rewards from Neomuna activities are boring. The new weapons are neat, and that's about it. I miss gathering materials and trading them in. Using materials for upgrades, and the implication that we were trading them into the vendors who would then CRAFT THEM INTO GEAR for us! That was dope! And using materials to unlock upgrades on my badass weapons as I used them... YEAH! Now it's all cores, prisms, shards, and glimmer. That's it. SNORE. And dropping a ton of Strand Meditations all at once has made what I THOUGHT was going to be a length grind into... Nothing. I'm already 3/4 of the way done. And I've only done 10 Terminal Overload runs. I have 900 meditations. I only need 1600 more to get all the fragments. Why even do it this way? I haven't even played Strand outside of the required times for quests. And I almost have the grind done. Just unlock everything out the gate or don't do this way at all. Another example of the game being stuck with "this is how we did it BEFORE..."

Everything being centered on cores now has put a MASSIVE strain on my stock of upgrade materials, and it's forcing me to CHOOSE: keep my gear up to the bleeding edge of my power level, or reshape my weapon I've leveled up and grinded with enhanced perks? Upgrade my armor, or shape a new weapon from the plentiful patterns I'm unlocking? Giving me assured progress on crafting patterns, letting me unlock new patterns quickly, and letting me do that with NEW WEAPONS that are SHINY and FUN? That's great! Love it! Locking me behind a grind of fucking enhancement cores to take advantage of these increased rates of unlock? Kinda makes me want to uninstall the game. Weapon shaping was such a cool system when it launched: you had to seek out the weapons that had the right perks so you can get the materials you need to craft weapons with those perks. Great! Then it got simplified: no more perk-specific mats. And now it's been stripped down fully: no mats at all. Now it's not worth it. I don't give a single royal FUCK about crafting these weapons, and I'm SO GLAD I reshaped my core loadout BEFORE Lightfall... Because I'm not doing it anymore. Congrats, Bungo; weapon shaping is no longer the most effective tactic... It's the least effective tactic. And with the ability to enhance perks on random roll weapons coming, WHAT THE FUCK WAS THE FUCKING GODSDAMNED FUCKING POINT OF ADDING THE WEAPON CRAFTING SYSTEM OTHER THAN TO SELL WITCH QUEEN??? SERIOUSLY??? JUST FUCKING REMOVE IT ALREADY, THEN.

And now for the worst part. I was going to write up a huge wall of text outlining my problems with the lore. I was going to go into detail, with references and pictures and shit. But my mental health would not stay in the "I'm okay" zone for long if I did that. This shit absolutely makes my blood boil. Instead of breaking down every single gripe I have, I'm going to make another list. I'm not going to spend 10,000+ characters describing why this shit sucks. I'm going to keep each gribe short and sweet. Well, more sour. Anyway.

THE LORE

The Veil is not a fully-realized concept. I think they had a cool idea for how it would look and then didn't know how to progress from there. It's clearly an eyeball, right? I'm not nuts for thinking that? It's never referred to that way. "Roots" they called them. THEY'RE FUCKING VEINS. THAT'S AN OPTIC NERVE. GHOST. YOU'RE A FLOATING EYEBALL. HOW DID YOU NOT SEE THE SIMILARITY.

People talk about the Veil as if they know what it is. They don't. Why was the dialogue written as if it was understood? It verly clearly isn't, based on the post-game quests. And now there's not threat right? Why don't we go study it? The way is open.

The Veil was unveiled (wink) during the final chapter of the third act. We had no time to really come to terms with it as an object. And now it's hidden away in "you already did this quest" land forever. They talk about it a bit in the post-game quests, but it's almost immediately just shoved aside for "ROHAN'S LEGACY".

Calus was a terrible character and showed no development at all. I expected him to be either a chillingly calculated new kind of evil or fully batshit insane. He's still the snarky, irreverent snob that he's always been. He's just gold-plated now. Also his combat style is just "Colossus meets Caretaker" followed by "he's just a fucking Gladiator". I died more from him pushing me off the edge of the platform than his attacks. Pathetic.

The Witness was chilling and terrifyingly powerful: perfect for a new main antagonist. They killed an entire swathe of Guardians with a flick of their finger. I want to fight them. We do not even interact with them. They then fucked off into the Kaleidoscope Dimension of Triangles. "We can't follow it." Fuck you, I'm gonna try.

I didn't even blink when Rohan died. Not only did I expect it, I called exactly how he would die sacrificing himself because other people fucked up. He was a boring character with a boring end. His legacy is one of mediocrity.

We literally just call it capital-S "Strand" with no ceremony or explanation. It just comes out of Ghost's mouth. I did all the side dialogue stuff, talked to every NPC between each quest. It is never referred to as Strand except when Ghost randomly calls it that. This is minor, but it is a plot hole that triggers my writer's instinct. It needs to be explained. "This power... It's like strings... Ribbons... Strands... Strand!" That's all I wanted.

Stasis spent way too much time introducing the concept and feeding it to us a little at a time. Strand had no introduction, we literally find it randomly in the second mission, instantly play with it, and then randomly master it half-way through the story... But DON'T unlock it as a power? The training montage was cool and funny. Watching my Warlock unmaker herself with cosmic strings got a chuckle out of me. Just really wish Osiris's feathers hadn't been reaching for infinity during that cutscene.

Why and how was Callus able to just shout a hole through all of the Veil's defenses, all the way down to the actual fucking VAULT IT'S CONTAINED IN, but then uses a gun and swords to fight us? He should be able to just... Shout our Ghost apart, right? He can just will a goblet into being with his mind from raw ore, but he can't have a Tormentor grab us so he can crush our Ghost? I can apparently crush a Ghost with my bare hand, (Lucent Hive taught me that), but Callus can't? How was he powerful enough to vocally drill to the core of the planet, but impotent enough that I killed him with a sword?

"The Traveler is gone..." What? No it isn't. It just has aetherpunk-puke hole disorder. We still have the Light, right? So the Traveler isn't GONE... Why is everyone saying it's gone? We can see it from the HELM! The Witness and all the Pyramid ships are gone, though. That's nice. The Traveler is still clearly there. WHY DOES EVERYONE THINK IT'S GONE???

Nezerec? Really? He had no interactions with the Vex that we know of. And he's in the Vex Network? Really? Kind of a blind left hook there, Bungie. And if he betrayed the Witness, why is he still so evil? Is the implication that "Disciple of the Witness" isn't the ultimate way to be evil? That Nezerec is MORE evil? I don't understand. And knowing this game, I never will.

No interactions with Poukas to help us unlock Strand? Except the implied help we get at the Pouka Pond? Not even a cutscene showing that that's how we're doing it? Just walk up and "here's your shit, now go farm currency".

So many glaring issues I saw in the space battle cutscenes... Why was the Traveler's light beam completely ineffective against the Witness? And why did the Witness get a vision when it touched the Traveler? And why was it of Neptune specifically? And how was the HELM hit by the huge Pyramid ship shockwaves when it was clearly on the opposite side of the battle? Did our entire fleet get annihilated by that attack? What about Callus's ships? Why weren't they destroyed? That entire scene was so jarring and cluttered and had so many continuity issues and inconsistencies. It was cool in the trailers, but we literally saw the entire scene from beginning to end before the launch. It was clearly cut to be trailer fodder and that's really it.

Where the fuck is Xivu Arath and the Hive during all of this? No tombships, no Bladed Terrace... Isn't this battle enough of a clarion call to her that Xivu Arath can use it to call forth her forces from the Ascendant Plane? What about the war on Neptune? WHY IS THE HIVE GOD OF WAR NOT PRESENT FOR THE WAR TO END ALL WARS???

The seasonal story... Why are the Cabal taking prisoners at all? Isn't the entire purpose to destroy us? And why are they kept 5 at a time in a giant Pyramid complex with a single cage in the middle of a huge temple-like room? Are they to be sacrificed? And who are these people anyway? They look like civilians, but Amanda was with them... Were they pilots? Are they Guardians? If not, why were they in the space battle? How did they survive an attack that clearly decimated our entire fleet? Why did they crash on the EDZ?

I have more, but my computer is lagging from how long this post has become. I also need to eat breakfast. I've not slept in 24 hours and now I have a long day ahead of me to reset my sleep schedule.

I regret buying this expansion. I'm not going to whine and bitch about refunding. I made the choice to trust Bungo with my money and I got what I paid for. The fact that what I paid for was apparently a pile of shit is irrelevant. I really hope the seasons to come save this game. But I stand with what My Name Is Byf said: this game is now firmly in the category of "I cannot recommend it". Save your money; don't get Lightfall if you haven't already. Unless you really want to spend $60 for a new subclass. The best parts of this expansion for the most part are available for free.

My heart is breaking for this game... Here's hoping it redeems itself.