Tumgik
#so credit to him for inspo + structure
yourneighborhoodporg · 5 months
Text
The Guardian
Chapter 4: Arrival (Part 2)
Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader
Warnings: Mention of slavery, mention of canon character death, near-death experience (kinda), angst, fluff, banter, flying, grief, Reader & Anakin making questionable decisions, oh and poor sad Ani :(
Summary: To cut loose, you and Anakin visit one of Coruscant's largest garbage pits, known for a famously exhilarating, dangerous, and illegal sport— pit racing. Time spent in the planet's underworld is always ripe with nearly lethal encounters and moments to bare your soul.
Song Inspo: Dog Days Are Over — Florence + The Machine
Words: 4.3k
A/n: Y'all fill me with so much joy with every like, comment, and reblog. Keep 'em coming :D (and lmk if you wanna join the lovely, growing taglist)
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Series Masterlist
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Crying does not indicate that you are weak. Since birth, it has always been a sign that you are alive — Charlotte Brontë
Your nose crinkled as the rising fumes of rancid waste, rotting meat, and rusting metal invaded your nostrils. At least in your mind, the virulent smell of artificial manure, which coated the air, had a more defined, less convoluted source. The garbage worms— genetically engineered creatures capable of processing billions of pounds of organic and inorganic debris into tiny, yet smelly, pellets.
You rolled your shoulders in alternating circles, hoping to release the back tension inflamed by your malodorous surroundings. You stared out as far as your eyes could take you, into the barely lit darkness of the Coruscanti night in what Anakin called the Wicko District, home to one of the planet’s largest garbage pits.
You stood just behind the cavernous pit’s edge, its two-kilometer-long path dotted by the luminous glow of lane lights stationed every 250 meters on either side of the trench. The structure’s mechanical whirring echoed off the walls with the essence of a credit falling down a deep well, clinking across the stones in its long descent. From the trough’s middle, a garbage pod instantaneously shot up from blackened obscurity with the speed of a lightning bolt. Your eyes tracked it upwards, watching it leave the atmosphere in mere seconds. Dropping your head down toward the cavern once more, you rested your eyelids, hoping to sense an estimation of the trench’s depth.
“Found another one!” Anakin cried from your rear as you sensed him toss a large, hefty object.
You swiveled on your heels in time to catch the winged glider.
Once more you faced the other thrill seekers who were scattered behind you, either in the process of tinkering with their own pit racers, wagering rather large bets on some of the more experienced racers, or actively diving into the cavernous pit. Out of your peripheral, a dark purple pouch hung from the extended index finger of a hooded Handler who carried a particularly devious smirk. He was collecting credits from a number of excited beings, dressed in athletic gear and forming a semi-circle around him, likely for some unofficial competition that was to take place soon.
You examined the contraption as Anakin stuck his arm through his own glider, noticing its loose flimsisteel composition. The rickety shoulder straps and stiff handles that stuck out on each side did not fuel your confidence in the parawing’s stability
Another throw from Anakin.
“Your optical cup!” He vocalized as the device rolled into the air, gently landing in your outstretched palm, which you extended easily.
You continued to examine the vehicle’s mechanisms.
“You know, Anakin.” You began as you turned back toward the trench to shrug on the pit racer. “This isn’t exactly what I’d consider, leisurely.”
“Trust me.” He swore as you heard his optical device click into place and whir to life. “You’re about to have the most fun of your life.”
You approached the cocky Jedi. “That’s not hard to do.” You nudged the man with your elbow as your stance rested beside him.
Similarly activating your cup, you sealed it to your eye with a slight twist to initiate the suction. “Anything beats living in the excitement graveyard that is Hoth.”
Another dauntless glider charged the cliff’s edge from your right. You felt the wind of his movements brush against your cheek as he launched down into the depths. The whistling cry of the racer disappeared into the cloud of darkness below as fast as his straightened legs vanished over the edge.
“Like I said.” He smirked, studying you out of the corner of his eye as he leaned into your ear.
“The most fun of your life.” He whispered.
“Alright, wise guy.” You lightly palmed his warm cheek, pushing his encroaching nose to the side as he chuckled. “I’m holding you to that promise.”
“I wouldn’t expect any less.” He assured with a grin. “Now remember, there’s no engine on these things, so use the tractor field boosters for lift. The person to collect the most worm scales wins.”
“Got it.” You said as the two of you approached the cliffside. “I’ll see you on the other side.”
You stilled, feeling as if you could almost curl your toes over the edge.
“Oh!” He glanced down at you once more. “Don’t forget to avoid the rocketing garbage pods around those gun machines. Or else you’ll join the space junk.”
You laughed, gripping the racer’s handles firmly, feeling its connection to the glider’s wings.
Your eyes twinkled at the taller man in teasing anticipation. “May the best Jedi win.”
Anakin scoffed. “Being a Jedi has nothing to…”
And with a thrust from the Force in place of a running start, you leapt.
The wind struck your face with the strength of a violent tornado, the blend of foul stenches emanating from the cavern absorbed you into its noxious, blackened haze.
“Hey!” Anakin yelled from the skirt before hastily springing after you.
You bursted into a fit of laughter, stuck in carefree stitches as you descended deeper into the trench. Grappling with each mirthful breath, you simultaneously endeavored to focus on the rapidly developing path ahead.
You manipulated the racer’s handles to maneuver yourself around the luminescent maze of unpredictably intersecting conveyor belts, carrying raw waste or garbage pods throughout the cavern’s complicated mechanical system. As you descended further, the inner workings of the garbage pit came into view. Where debris was roughly compacted into transferable pods, and hundreds of meters ahead, where the neatly packaged waste was launched into the depths of the galaxy.
At the bottom of the pit, flourishing around these nuts and bolts, dwelled your prized amber garbage worms, slinking through their endless food supply in mindless satisfaction, squirming at the size of a Land Cruiser.
As you scanned the array, you spotted a particularly large worm chomping away at an old cerise hovercraft. You noticed the creature’s advanced age, apparent from the stark molting of its superficial scales and fading tinge.
Target acquired, you thought inwardly.
You continued your rapid dive, spotting a field booster in your left peripheral just as it sent another garbage pod down a conveyor belt. Tilting your glider, you graced the booster the instant it became vacant, taking in the momentary lift to steady the racer’s downward trajectory toward the old, plump worm ahead.
Your speed increased in the final stretch, blowing your hair like a whirlwind behind you. Your optical guide read a speed of ten meters a second, signaling you to slowly free a hand in preparation.
Nearly on top of the worm, you squinted, reaching out to grab a particularly glittering scale that hung loose, fluttering like a stuck leaf on its back.
You were close enough to practically taste the musty worm, fingers inches from the slimy scale when a metal arm swooped in, grabbing the flake with a fist before departing with great haste.
“Come on!” You complained as Anakin caught the drift of another field booster to expedite his escape.
“I thought we were playing dirty!” He hollered over his shoulder, waiving the scale at you with a victorious grin.
Your jaw dropped, eyes goggling in levity at his absolute gall as you slanted to gain lift from the same booster. It launched you toward the retreating Jedi at breakneck speed while he aligned himself to dive at another distracted worm.
“Okay, smarty!” You exclaimed as you gained ground. “You asked for it!”
You flew parallel to him, using the opportunity to gently tilt the tip of his left wing with your own from underneath, causing his glider to spin off-course like loose space debris.
“That’s illegal!” He shouted as he attempted to regain control.
Using the booster he fumbled toward, Anakin halted his rotations and steadied his flight upwards.
You tightly kept his original trajectory, easily permitting you to peel off a flaky scale from the curious worm he’d earmarked below, before hijacking a nearby tractor field.
“Now you’re worried about things being illegal?!” You scoffed. “This whole game is illegal!”
You glanced at him, catching his narrowed eyebrows and challenging stare.
“Oh.” He chucked darkly with a cunning simper. “You’re on.”
The two of you continued to twist and weave throughout the dark, stench-filled abyss. Kicking garbage pods off conveyor belts in front of each other to force a change in course. Driving one another into a booster to knock one of you into a completely obscure direction. Even shattering the scarce power relays with a carefully thrown pod, plunging you both into darkness and startling the worms’ stagnation.
As you stretched a hand toward another rapidly approaching scale, you felt the wing of your glider capsize from the flick of Anakin’s force-wielding fist, sending you into a spin.
Inwardly groaning, you attempted to straighten your racer, but to no avail. Your glider wasn’t responding to the handles’ commands. You’d pull to the right, yet the racer would barely react, as if you only tapped the wing’s tip.
Suddenly, you were met with a powerful blast from an unexpected tractor field, vibrating your brain against your skull and simultaneously sending you into dangerous territory.
The impact dizzied your senses as you lost all perception of your surroundings.
A high-pitched beeping rang in your ear. It took you a moment to register the eye cup as the source as it warned you of your hazardously accelerating rotational frequency.
Out of the blurry corner of a lulling eye, you narrowly recognized Anakin’s face, etched with concern. He had seemingly long forgotten the worm he was trying to usurp.
Still, you failed to stabilize the parawing.
“You’re about to cross an acceleration shield!” He called out urgently.
You gritted your teeth in concentration as you careened toward the gun machine.
“I know!”
You continued to try readjusting your flight, desperately pulling at the handles to steady the glider, but it wouldn’t budge. Briskly, you peered over your shoulder at the contraption as a wave of nausea overcame your senses from the endless spinning. Immediately, you noticed a large opening in one of the wings.
“Well, that explains in.” You mumbled under your breath.
How something could have penetrated the glider’s flimsisteel was anyone’s guess.
No time to theorize— you were beginning to feel increasingly woozy as your gyrations accelerated. You needed to use whatever was left of your mind to come up with a plan before losing consciousness.
“There’s a hole…in my racer!” You endeavored to yell.
“What?!” Anakin exclaimed.
You needed to think fast.
If you let go of the glider, you weren’t sure you’d be able to calibrate your surroundings fast enough to cushion your fall into the pit below. Then again, if you continued on this path, you would meet a comparably deadly fate in the cold arms of space.
Make a decision, now!
Looking up, you noticed that the garbage pit’s end was only 50 meters away.
And that’s when it clicked.
You glanced at Anakin, registering his predicated path, displayed by a dotted red line through your optical guide as it continued its shrill blare.
“Stay on your trajectory!” You called out as you continued to spin. “I have a plan!”
“Does it involve a deadly shoot-you-into-space machine?” Anakin quipped, unease lacing his voice. “Because if so, I don’t like it.”
“Have faith, Chosen One.” You gasped, trying to lighten both your spirits as dark spots splotched your sight in the unending rotations. “My plans usually work.”
And with that, you let the final flips of your glider lead you into the all-controlling hands of the acceleration shield while it prepped a launch. As its large spring pulled back, you removed each arm from the racer’s control, triggering another set of vocal alarms in your optical sensor, before letting the contraption fall into the pit in a crumpled heap. You heard the repeated call of WARNING WARNING from the female voice ringing from the optical cup in your dive toward the acceleration shield. Using the Force, you bounded into the gun’s path as the machine released with a bang.
You were hit with the force of a thousand Wampas as you flew up, catching the remnant power of the apparatus behind the garbage pod. As your careening self neared Anakin’s passing glider, you put your plan into action. The moment his racer cleared the gun’s trajectory, you harvested any remaining energy to drive a soaring escape from the shield’s trapping energy, launching yourself toward him.
In a millisecond, you were close enough to clasp onto one of his straps. Using it as a handle to swing your other arm around him, you tightly gripped the other side. The dead hang lasted only a moment as you found the momentum to thrust your legs upwards, lodging each foot behind his ankles.
You dangled parallel to him, chests nearly touching.
“See?” You exclaimed out of breath as you watched his bewildered eyes connect with yours. “Piece of cake.”
Anakin’s brows furrowed in disbelief.
“Don’t fall.”
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
The two of you swiftly reached the cavern’s end, allowing you to demount with a skip as Anakin’s feet met the edge. You dusted off your knees before turning to your companion who was in the process of relieving himself from the racer’s grasp.
“Now that.” You breathed deeply as you continued to steady your breath. “Was awesome!”
“See?” Anakin emphasized as he dropped the glider to the side before twirling on his heel to fall to the ground in exhaustion. “What did I say? The most fun of your life.”
You chuckled as you approached the tuckered-out Jedi, kneeling down to sit beside him as his chest rose and fell freely. “Yeah, you weren’t kidding.”
Your words seemed to spark a flare of anxiety in Anakin as he shot up beside you to send a very deliberate look.
“Remember.” He began with a pointed finger while he recuperated. “This is our little secret. Obi-Wan cannot know we were here.”
“Yeah, I get it now.” You sighed as you relaxed, hugging your knees and peering out into the distance.
Other pit racers continued to weave throughout the garbage labyrinth, catching the occasional ray of golden light as they catapulted upwards, only to dive back down into the trough’s bowels.
“You almost killed me. Imagine explaining that one to Obi-Wan.”
Anakin watched you, unimpressed. “Like I said.” He bumped your shoulder with his own. “Our little secret. I’d be the dead one if Obi-Wan ever found out I took you here. Can’t kill The Guardian only days after finding them.”
You both relaxed into the cool night’s air.
For some reason, the garbage pit’s rising stench was less potent on this side of the trench, permitting you to take in the other essences of Coruscanti city life.
Even from the lower levels, the energy you sensed around you was immense. As you felt beyond the trough, you could almost see the thousands of beings living in towering, dark gray structures that connected from the level’s floor to the ceiling like stalagmites, stretched similarly to Tepasi taffy. Some shorter, rounded structures filled the spaces in between, all dotted with little orange and white glows in the blackness of nighttime. You stared up at The Hole, acting as an aperture of light for various speeders and land vehicles that descended and ascended in slow hovers. Other smaller openings from the floor above resembled the pockets of storm clouds, acting as an additional source of illumination to the main pathway to the lower levels.
You rested your chin on a knee, taking a deep breath to blow a stream of fog into the cold air.
“How are you feeling?” You asked.
Your gaze locked on a distant speeder, dodging surrounding vehicles to continue its whirlwind dash through one of Wicko’s primary skylanes.
You listened as the uncharacteristically hushed Jedi sighed beside you. “Honestly? I don’t know.”
A breathy laugh dripped from your lips. “Same here.”
You tightened each arm around your bundled legs, taking in the sudden breeze.
The sound of distant sirens from a police skimmer rolled into the atmosphere before just as swiftly fading in the city’s background noise. You sensed Anakin peer at you timidly from the ground, encouraging your own gaze to meet his over your shoulder.
“This is all…just so…very, strange.” He expressed earnestly as he sat up, crossing his legs.
“You’re telling me.” You huffed in a jocular cadence. “Here I was, thinking I’d trained all my life to meet and protect a grand, wise, and humble Chosen One.” You held your arms wide as if hugging the world.
“Okay, okay.” He lightly flicked your outstretched arm, causing you to giggle while you gently slapped his hand away.
He stared back out into the distance. “Message received.”
As your laughter died down, you eased further into your loosened muscles, stretching out your legs and leaning back on the palms of your hands while staring out at the beyond once more
“Honestly?” You exhaled. “I’m pretty nervous.”
You glanced at Anakin almost immediately, watching as he visibly calmed.
“Same here.”
His eyes softened as he twisted back toward you. “I just… never thought that I’d be sharing this prophecy with someone else.”
Seeming to notice your distant stare, Anakin gently touched your arm, turning you toward himself. “And to be perfectly clear, I wasn’t super happy when I learned about you at first. I just…don’t like the idea of putting my fate in someone else’s hands.”
You stayed carefully silent as you stared at Anakin, soberly. It felt as if his words had grabbed you by the chest, holding it in limbo while sending a chill down your spine that felt colder than Hoth’s worst days.
Holding your breath, you patiently waited for him to continue.
“But talking to you a bit more these past few days, thinking more about what your destiny means, it’s challenged my thinking.” He shrugged. “Maybe it’s good to have another person on my side. And from what I’ve seen so far, I’m thinking that I couldn’t have asked for a better Guardian.”
You beamed at his words ever so briefly. Then, your gaze dropped subtly, a hint of embarrassment ticking at your cheeks. You could feel him eyeing you curiously, witnessing a deep sigh escape your mouth. Even you felt the air of insecurity that swirled around your being.
“That’s kind of you to say, but to be perfectly open with you, Anakin, I don’t know if Qui-Gon spent enough time with me. Even if the Force brought us together. Even if my eyes have changed, and my path has begun. I just don’t know if I’m fully prepared for this journey.”
“Hey.” He said softly, tapping your chin upwards with a knuckle, thrusting your vision toward him.
“Qui-Gon was originally supposed to train me too. Yet I turned out fine.” He reassured.
You smiled to yourself, thinking about your late Master once more. He could have opened up a private school for Jedi with the number of Padawans he tried to take on.
“He saved me from a life of slavery on Tatooine,” Anakin revealed as his eyes drifted to the side.
A wave of sympathy washed over you for the solemn Jedi.
You had no idea.
“That must have been very difficult for you.” You spoke.
“It was.” He admitted. “But the hardest part was leaving my mother behind.” He avoided your gaze.
Your compassionate eyes scanned his hunched figure. “Is she still there?”
Rather coldly, Anakin answered.
“She died.”
You paused for a moment, before tenderly placing a hand on his warm shoulder, squeezing gently.
“I’m sorry.” You murmured.
For a brief instant, his carefully constructed display of indifference cracked under the pressure, coercing a deep-rooted rage to ooze from his being.
“You know.” You started, eyes glued to the back of his skull. “It’s okay to be angry.”
Anakin’s head whipped toward you with the expression of a dugar caught in a tractor beam.
You smiled reassuringly. “It’s true! It’s normal.”
Your head bobbed to either side in rumination.
”Frankly, I’d be concerned if you weren’t feeling some sort of fury.”
Anakin’s brows furrowed toward his feet, lips creased. He was seemingly unconvinced of your words. You watched as he started to nervously pick at an index finger with his thumb.
So you snatched his hands, drawing them in between the two of you and forcing his stoic stare to once again raise and meet yours.
“Anakin, words cannot describe how livid I am. How betrayed I feel, since learning of my Master’s death. I’m angry at the galaxy, at myself, and even at Qui-Gon. He left me stranded on a barren planet for a decade, Anakin. It wasn’t his fault, but I still blame him. But feeling these things doesn’t mean I’m any less a person, or any less a Jedi. It means I’m human.”
You closed your eyes, taking in a deep breath to try to calm your thoughts before releasing them open as you exhaled. You pressed your thumbs into his sweaty palms in a comforting manner, his unwavering gaze piercing your very soul.
“Tragedy is a part of life. And emotion is a part of tragedy. It’s how you face those parts of yourself that will determine your ability to move forward. Not just for yourself, but for the people around you.”
Anakin stayed very still, searching your eyes like he was scanning for any quiver of doubt, any inkling of a catch. A complication. But you were unwavering, only offering a dulcet countenance to support the simplicity of your words.
His features remained steadfast, except for the slight flicker of hope that kindled behind his irises like a budding flame.
“How do you deal with it?” He barely uttered, gaze dropping to the floor.
You thought carefully, exhaling the bubbling emotions that this conversation had meticulously simmered. Your words seemed to be of some importance to him, and you wanted to present your thoughts in the most helpful way possible, as clear as possible, and not tainted by your own internal conflicts.
You opened your mouth to answer when a mechanical whistle buzzed through the cold, decaying breeze. It jolted the two of you from your quiet conversation, signaling Anakin to release your hands into the chillier atmosphere as he reached to address his flashing wrist comm.
He tapped the answering button. “Anakin here.” His voice slightly croaked from the weight of your hushed conversation.
“Anakin! Good, where are you?” Obi-Wan’s voice fizzled through the speaker. “I checked the refractory and your quarters but you weren’t there. Ahsoka didn’t know where you were either. I also cannot find our new companion.”
“Everything’s fine, Master,” Anakin assured, placing a hand confidently on his hip. “Silvey and I decided to leave The Temple. We’re exploring Coruscant.”
You shot him a glare for his steadfast use of that unimaginative nickname. His self-assured grin shut you down.
“I need to meet with you both urgently.” Obi-Wan projected. “Where are you?”
“Uh.” Anakin eyes shifted toward you in minute panic. “We’re in the Uscru District.” He blurted out with flimsy confidence.
Your brows furrowed. “Uscru District?” You mouthed in a questioning manner.
Anakin placed a finger on his lips, pleading for your silence as he focused on the comm link.
“Anakin…” Obi-Wan chided. “Where exactly are you?”
He was apparently unconvinced by that answer.
“In the Outlander Club. Can’t get enough of those nerf burgers…” Anakin trailed off before chuckling nervously.
He glanced at you again, doe-eyed for silent support.
You rolled your eyes, collapsing backward onto the firm, cold ground, arms sprawled out in defeat. Lifting an arm lazily, you gave him a big thumbs down to formally protest this terrible plan. Anakin was going to keep digging himself into a deeper hole and all you could do was watch and listen.
Well, at this point, it was too hard to watch. So you instead distracted yourself with the passing land vehicles that soared above you in perfect harmony.
“You’re going to the wrong place for nerf burgers.” Obi-Wan challenged.
You could envision the bearded Jedi crossing his arms while peering at the comm skeptically from the tone of his voice.
“And why of all places did you decide to take them there?!”
“Because it’s a great first taste of society! You can’t find a better place to watch intergalactic pod racing matches.”
You barely heard Obi-Wan’s audible, yet defeated sigh through the crackling speaker.
“I see.” He conceded. “Stay where you are. I’ll be there soon.”
And with that, the call ended with a click.
“Alright, get up!” Anakin exclaimed as his mechanical hand extended into your vision.
You grasped the steely limb tightly, letting him tug you upwards with a start. As soon as your feet touched the ground, Anakin took off in a jog toward the Coruscanti Hole, briefly yanking you along before dropping his arm from yours as he hastened.
You caught up with the Jedi, matching his dash.
“Where is the Uscru District?”
“It’s somewhat close.” He puffed.
“Then why are we running?”
He glanced at you with a meager grimace.
“Because The Temple is closer.”
You groaned. “Well, how many?”
“Huh.” He glanced at you quizzically.
You stuck a hand into your pocket as you continued your sprint, rummaging around to collect the worm scales with your fingers before pulling them out and counting them silently.
“I got five.” You peered at his rushing figure. “How about you?”
Anakin’s gaze locked with yours. Seeing your indomitable stare, he did the same. Extracting the scales from his robe, he counted them once, twice, then three times in the palm of his hand before letting out a defeated huff.
“Five.”
“Ha ha!” You exclaimed victoriously before taunting him again.
“Look at that. We balance each other out.”
Taglist
@js-favnanadoongi
@panandinpain0
@randomwriter435
29 notes · View notes
my-writemind · 3 years
Text
He only calls me love
when he decides he has time
He'll rip my heart out of my chest
without reason or rhyme
Each day's a gamble on which him
I get to wake up to
I don't know what to do
He tells me that he wants me
When we're all alone
But I saw her contact name
Has two hearts in his phone
I don't know whether to blame him
Or my naïve thinking
But this ship is sinking
How long until I
Leave you crying again
I want the happy ending
You promised back then
I gave you my whole heart
What happened to caution?
Wonder how it feels to be more
Than your second best option
- c.r.w.
105 notes · View notes
Text
WandaVision Episode 8 spoilers
Ok I heard this episode is sad so I’m prepared to cry and ruin my eyeliner.
I’m just emotionally preparing myself rq before I start I’m assuming a lots gonna go down cause the second episode is the finale.
I’m still not ready 2 minutes later lmao wait.
Okay hmm the title is called Previously On so we’re going back in time to her childhood based on the summary.
I think we’re gonna get more insight on her and Visions relationship and how it formed and hopefully get to see her relationship with her brother I’m starting now.
Ugh my TV is glitching
Okay we’re starting out in witch trials so it’s Agathas backstory the lady staring at her looks familiar. Oh it’s her mom
Her powers are blue here she’s into dark magic and the book in her basement is the stolen book from Doctor Strange im assuming she began learning dark magic from it l.
As they started to drain her. Her powers became blue and she starting to drain them back. I’m assuming the witches shared power and it was blue and now that it’s dark magic it’s purple.
Wow she killed her whole coven my draining them of their life and magic. Then she took her mother’s amulet so that’s the amulet she’s always wearing from the comics is. 
She admitted her thoughts weren’t available and she was never under control.
Her accent is back because she’s angry because of her children being missing.
She possessed the fake Pietro from another universe she didn’t say he was from another universe she just said she couldn’t get to his body so she had to do possession instead of necromancy.
She picked up the fly now she’s chanting in Latin
She’s mind controlling and talking about how thousands of people can be under your control and all interact with each other with complex storylines which makes me think she wants Wanda power because she’s jealous she can do everything like transformation and mind control without having to study all the spells
“Magic on autopilot,” Dhe wants to know how she did this and she wouldn’t tell her and now she’s manipulating her with her own loneliness. She took a piece of her hair so now she has her DNA 
Real reruns aka memories so she can look into them to see how she did it.
Her kids are crying out for in the basement so she’s gonna go with Agatha to save them I honestly don’t think the cries were her own.
OHHH MY GOD
All the movies her parents were going to sell were the decades and movies she did projected.
When Wanda walked into the memory she turned into her younger self,
The Dick Van Dick show is in the TV shape of the one Darcy used on the first episode so we know where she got her inspo for that one.
Everything outside makes me think this is the scene where her parents die.
The Stark bomb just hit and she’s looking around and can’t find her family yeah the Stark industry label is in front of her and she’s reverted back to Sokovian because she’s young and not the best at English yet I’m assuming.
The TV I’d still on and playing the show “At the end of the episode you realize it was all a bad dream,” I’m not sure why she said that part in English maybe because she’s referring to the show and movie nights are for English? 
Agatha is asking if she used a probability hex to stop the bomb because Wanda reached her hand out towards it and that’s how she uses her powers.
Maybe Agatha is hinting towards Wanda being a natural born witch?
“So what I see here a baby witch obsessed with sitcoms and years of therapy ahead of her. Doesn’t explain your recent hijinks,”
Wanda used her powers subconsciously there and she’s probably using her powers subconsciously to keep Westview running and she used them subconsciously to get it started. 
“The only way forward is back,”
She’s referring to Wanda not wanting to go back to Hydra I haven’t seen the scene yet but I’m assuming it’s because the testing was painful and because she now knows who hydra is and what it stands for.
“Don’t be scared you already lived it once,”
They have Loki’s sceptor of course im assuming they got it from SHIELD since they are SHIELD.
She didn’t have to touch the sample it just came to her on its own further proving she’s a witch but I don’t think she knows she moved it,
She touched the tesseract making the mine stone she then absorbed all its energy and passed out.
In isolation she’s watching another sitcom I just can’t figure out which it is.
I’m sure the episode on the TV is important “she hasn’t got any feeling,” maybe it’s about the Westview citizens or maybe it’s about vision being a doll or like a puppet and the brother is like “she hasn’t got any feelings” just like when Pietro or Fietro called Vision a popsicle an inanimate object 
“So little orphan Wanda got up close and personal with an infinity stone that amplified what otherwise would’ve died on the vine. The broken pieces of you are adding up buttercup I have a theory but I need more,” This is probably talking about how if you don’t use your powers or learn to control them you stop having them but the infinity stone just made the powers she already had stronger. The name Scarlett Witch is starting to make sense now. 
Another door another memory that I’d her watching Malcom in the middle.
She said the Avengers compound was the first home she had ever shared with Vision and with her family and country gone she felt alone so I’m assuming she’s with Vision cause he cured her loneliness.
Vision walking through the walls again she asking him to watch the sitcom with her. The sitcoms are important to her and she’s sharing them with him.
“So it is funny because of the grievous injury that man just suffered?” Vision
“No he’s not really injured,” Wanda
“How Can you be sure?”
“It’s not that kind of show,”
I think this is sort of related to the fact that nothing bad ever happens in Westview permanently like in Malcolm in the middle where the roof structure fell on the dad sure he got hurt but it wasn’t a detrimental injury.
He wants to comfort to her “The only thing that would bring me comfort is seeing him again,” Wanda about Pietro she felt the same with Vision hence why Westview is happening and why he’s back.
“I’m so tired, It’s just like this wave washing over me again and again it knocks me down and when I try stand up it just comes for me again and I can’t- it’s just gonna drown me,” How she explains her grief and depression we’re getting a glismpe of how she copes with death in her actual reality.
Vision says he’s always been alone he never experienced loss because he never had a loved one to lose.
“What is grief if not love preserving,” Okay damn Vision getting all deep.
Aww they just had a moment and now he’s laughing over the show how sweet. The awkward smile they did at eachother. How cute
Vision was dead and she wanted him back now we get to see how she stole Visions body back from her perspective.
All the news on the TV playing might not be revelant but it’s related to tamiles being reunited after the blip. So this is very shortly after the blip and some people might be right thinking it was almost directly after Tony’s funeral.
“He deserves a funeral at least I deserve it,”
They’re letting her take him probably to be able to paint her as a villain which is why Hayward cut out the first part of the footage.
She’s being shown him take apart and sawed she’s in pain seeing him practically dying again. Hayward called vision a weapon and Wanda is saying he’s not a weapon because he wasn’t and he didn’t want to be a weapon Hayward is hiding his true intentions of bringing him back to be his own weapon
“I just want to bury him. That’s all I want,”
She said she can’t do that she truly believes she can’t.
He won’t let her take $3 billion of vibranium to put in the ground she just wanted him to have a proper burial but Hayward provoked her and set her off.
She can’t feel him. A nod to how Vision said “I only feel you,” When he asked Wanda to kill him there is nothing left. She hot in the car and went to Westview she left and when she left she didn’t have Visions body.
She’s pulled up to place where she planned to grow old in with Vision and it’s been demolished this is the scene where she breaks down crying over it. And when she grieved she lets it get the best of her which is how she put the house back together without realizing she was doing it. Then that spread over the whole town and she is projected her own version of Vision. But I’m unsure if this is really Vision or not because then she’d be way more powerful than I ever believe to be able to create people own her own.
Oh wow she’s showing all the lights and it’s like she’s own set so she’s back to where Agatha had this all set up and she was the audience.
Agatha is choking the twins “I know what you are. You have no idea how dangerous you are. You’re supposed to be a myth. A being capable of spontaneous creation. and here you are using it to make breakfast for dinner.” Maybe Wanda was a prophecy before hand and she just never learned how powerful she really was and now Agatha is trying to feed off her powers I’m assuming she’s going to try to get Wanda to push her powers into her so she can drain her.
“Let go of my children,” Wanda with her accent coming back.
“Oh, yes your children and Vision and this whole little life you’ve made, this is Chaos magic Wanda. That makes you the Scarlett Witch,” Ugh yes one of those moments where they say a name of the movie or a character that’s basically it’s own movie I love it.
I’m gonna research Chaos magic and then I’ll reblog this again after I research some other things too.
End credits time. “Team is ready for launch,” They’re going to use Wanda own power to attack her using Visions actual corpse. He’s been brought back as the one thing he didn’t want to be. A weapon. I’m not sure who that was who powered it up but was it Monica’s contact?
Also doesn’t Agatha have Monica now if she was possessing Fietro? I have a lot of questions that I can’t get out right now
23 notes · View notes
pebblysand · 3 years
Text
of breakable clay [extended author's notes on chapter viii of castles]
oh my god. it’s out. jesus christ.
okay first off, before i dive into anything, i know i’ve already done this in the actual a/n but i would like to wholeheartedly thank @whiffingbooks over on discord for helping me with figuring out the structure of things fic. although i have to admit i did not, at all, do what i told you i would do, talking it out was massively helpful in figuring this one out, so thanks a million. secondly, i would like send all of my most sincere and affectionate thanks to @whizzfizz on here, who mother-of-god basically designed this entire chapter and listened to me rant, and rant, and rant about it for days on end without complaining. i’ll go into a bit more depth later on, but THANK YOU.
now, a few facts on this chapter before i dive further in:
wordcount: 19168. i legit would apologise for this but i promised i wouldn’t so i’m not going to. that’s growing up people. don’t apologise for yourselves haha.
soundtrack: so i’ve never mentioned this but each chapter kind of has a soundtrack? like a song that i listened to on loop while writing this. here, i would basically point you to the entire spotify of a band called barns courtney (there’s one album and a few eps), i basically listened to all of their songs on loop this past month. i feel like they have such a strong gryffindor energy, in the good, the bad and the ugly. this chapter is definitely sort of an ode to gryffindors so their music was a very big inspo. if i had to point you to one song, it would probably be dopamine.
favourite line: ‘I dig my fingernails into the inside of my palms and it feels like the blood that comes out is already boiling.’
what is this chapter about? now, that’s an easy one. survival.
okay, now, spoilers under the cut.
Tumblr media
ugh. holy fucking shit. i’m actually at a stage right now where i strongly believe that no one on earth will want to read this because everyone probably hates me right now for the choices that i made, especially after i made you wait almost three months for this shit. i always feel like whatever i’ve put out was the hardest chapter to write so far but this one was really out there in terms of struggles - i’m really sorry it took so long, but here we are.
there are reasons, though. first, as i said in my may round up, i didn’t really start writing this until about a month ago, because a lot of things were happening in my life that i needed to take care of. i took exams (which i passed!!!!), my mum had a health emergency, ireland added france to their mandatory quarantine list (it has been removed as of yesterday thank. fucking. christ) and i started a new job. it was a lot.
anyway, this being said, when i did get to writing this chapter, as mentioned above in the thank-you section, i kind of first struggled with the structure of it. now, you will see this is a recurring theme this time around but for this, my instincts were telling me one thing, and my brain was saying something else.
basically, what came first here wasn’t the actual content of ginny’s letters (more on that, obviously, in a minute) but the ‘mood’ i wanted for the chapter. i wanted to recreate, both for harry and for the reader, this sort of idea of being completely immersed in a book or a story. like, you know the kind of mood where reality just kind of blends out, where you start reading something and just. cannot. stop. i don’t think he’s much a reader (at least not canonically) and so i wanted this to take him by surprise, for her to take over his life with her words. i explained in the previous a/n [link] i chose to have ginny’s war be told through letters (basically, i thought it would be the best way to narratively tell her story), and i really wanted harry to experience what she’d lived through almost first hand.
now, interestingly, my idea for how to do this originally was to have the letters sort of be interwoven into the events of 1999, throughout the next couple of chapters (meaning this one and chapter nine). i had this idea in my head of him living through ‘real life’ things but not being able to take his mind off her letters, with the letters also sort of echoing the events that were happening in 99, etc. having the two plot lines develop at once and meet in the middle, kind of.
and i tried to write that. for a long time. spoiler alert, it didn’t work. i think the reason is that every time i sat down with it, i felt like i was doing a disservice to both stories. i mean: 97/98 is important, but 99 also is, you know? and by taking the narrative in and out all the time, it was like you couldn’t concentrate on one thing. it was just very messy and didn’t have the intensity i was originally aiming for because it kept being dragged out of whatever was the main action at the time. i wanted harry to get sucked into the narrative, for her letters to take over his life, but in the end, the impression i just got was that the whole thing was confusing af. instead of deeply caring about both, i couldn’t bring myself to care either for ginny’s story, or for his.
also, i just kept hitting a wall: a wall called harry. basically, i knew that the next two chapters (i.e. eight and nine) would stretch from january 99 to june 99. and for the love of god, no matter how many times i turned it around in my head, there was - to me - no way that harry as we know him would just pace himself to read her letters throughout all those months. like, harry fucking potter isn’t the kind of guy who ‘paces’ himself. he’s the kind of guy who doesn’t sleep for a week to get through it all, you know? this is everything that he’s wanted to know since last may, he’s been desperately looking for answers up to this point, there is absolutely not way in hell that he’d wait it out nicely until june. it felt ooc to have him read the letters over a few months. and i just kept hitting that wall over and over. i considered, at one point, building him reading the letters into flashbacks but flashbacks of flashbacks were, again, quite messy, and i don’t think her letters would ever be something he’d volunteer to re-read, so. clearly, it wasn’t working.
then, i think on a random sunday a few weeks ago, i just went back to the drawing board and was like: okay, say we just write all of the letters and go from there, what would happen? by the end of the day, i’d written 12,000 words and that was that, really.
now, the second difficulty, once i’d decided that was…. what you all probably want me to talk about.
i know this is probably not what you want to hear but: i didn’t really plan this? like, i understand that a lot of people have sort of a headcanon about what happened to ginny in that year in hogwarts but i … don’t. like, as planned as this fic is (which it is, i know where i’m going, i promise) that was always a bit of a blank-space-tbd in my head. i think that this story, as hinny as it is, is mostly about harry. and while i knew what i wanted for harry from her telling her story (for him to get sucked in, for him to realise that his war wasn’t the only war in the world ‘cause he’s been bloody self-centered so far, for him to realise that his plan to protect her didn’t exactly work because it didn’t cater for who she is, etc.), i wasn’t really sure what that story was. i mean, i knew it was going to be bad and traumatic, obviously, but i didn’t know what would happen. and still, to me, what i wrote is a version of that year. it’s not really my headcanon (i still don’t really have one), and i definitely accept other versions, if that makes sense.
this being said, i obviously had thought about it a little. i remember writing chapter one with that line: ‘They have sex for the first time, that day – his first time and it feels like hers, too, but he wouldn’t dare ask, not anymore, anyways’ and thinking i wanted to leave the door open. to me, it was a door completely open: it could have indeed been her first time, or she could have seen someone else (consensually) during that year, or she could have been assaulted. i honestly didn’t know but yeah, that was always a possibility in the back of my head.
then, to tell you the truth, when i wrote the first version of this chapter (the 12,000 words i mentioned earlier), it wasn’t there. i sat down and decided that i wasn’t going to go there. firstly, because, while you probably don’t know this, i’ve written about sexual assault before. my previous long fic, children, in another fandom, dealt (in part) with that. and i didn’t want to be the-fic-writer-who-writes-about-sexual-assault. especially because trust me, there are people who are a lot more legitimate to talk about this than i am. i also didn’t feel like it was necessary to the story, i could do without it and still explain ginny’s early behaviour in the fic, explain her trauma, and have harry realise the things i talked about before. secondly, i’ll be honest: i know this isn’t what people in this fandom want to read. the hinny pairing is mostly about love and fluff (which i love, btw, don’t get me wrong) and i was like, ugh, i don’t want to face the angry comments. i’m writing this a/n the morning before posting so i admittedly don’t know what the reaction will be but i do anticipate a lot of annoyance with me. i knew that a lot of people wouldn’t like it if i went there, and it was just easier not to.
but then, as i started editing, there was a comment (and this, ladies and gentlemen, is a testament to how much your comments fucking matter, okay?). a comment that i remembered reading on the previous chapter and could not get out of my head, no matter how much i tried. well, hello, @whizzfizz. i’ll happily give credit where credit is due. it read:
This made me think of something you mentioned earlier in the fic (possibly Ch1) about Harry not being sure if he was Ginny’s first but that it felt like it. I wonder if this is something that is going to come up in her letters to him.
and, so, it turned. around and around in my head, and i couldn’t get it out. and i kept saying to myself: no, you’re not going there. no, you’re not going there. and then, one night, i caved. i was like, fuck, i need to know if this person really meant what i think they meant by this. and so we talked. a lot. and, i did a lot of thinking. about women. about wars. about violence against women as a an inevitable weapon of war. about ginny being harry’s girlfriend, or ex-girlfriend (more on that later), and what that would have meant in their world. and @whizzfizz, you said something that in the end really sold me. you said: ‘at this point, i don’t think it would be realistic for it not to have happened.’ and, that was that, really.
because i was right, initially. amycus/ginny (ugh, the idea of a pairing makes me throw up in my mouth a little but yeah, there it is) isn’t necessary to the story. but i believe it to be necessary to what this story is trying to show. the plot held well without it, no questions asked. 12,000 words of the da and their battles, of ginny’s rebellions. it was fine. but i think i wanted more than fine. to me (and i appreciate how fucking pretentious that is, please slap me in the face *eyeroll*), castles is more than its plot. i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again: this is about what is behind ‘all was well.’ it’s about trying to paint a realistic picture of their lives. and that includes the war. and realistically, as far as i’m concerned, knowing how humans fight their wars, knowing our history and the history of violence against women construed as a weapon in literally every conflict there ever was, there is no way that this didn’t happen. ginny says it herself: for us girls, it’s just the way wars are fought.
so, i did go there. and the whole fandom probably hates me for going there, but i sort of stand by it, i have to say. to be honest, on a sort of subconscious level, i kind of wonder: didn’t i always know i was going to go there? like, this fits perfectly into the plot to the point that i think it was probably in my head for much longer than i care to admit. now, i’m so, fucking excited to write next chapter because i finally get to write happy things, and hinny getting back together on rock solid foundations of openness and sharing, and trust, and i’m so, so glad. there are a couple of scenes in the next chapter that i’ve been working towards for months and i’m so, bloody excited to write them. everyone might hate me and i might just be writing this fic for myself now (lol), but again, i stand by the decisions i took. to me, it fits.
phew. okay, now that huge thing is out of the way and explained, here are a few more jumbled thoughts:
the more i think about it, the more i think that my reason for not wanting to be the-fic-writer-who-writes-about-sexual-assault is a bit ridic. children and castles, in that way, are so, so different. like, i appreciate the overlap between the silk fandom and the hp fandom is probably ridiculously small but if you’ve read both stories, they’re obviously very different. one thing that both stories centre on, though, is consent. and to me, that’s probably the most interesting element of ginny/amycus, and the most interesting element of writing characters within a restrictive pov, rather than an omniscient one. like, do i think ginny/amycus is rape? yes. 100%. do i think that ginny thinks it’s rape? that is a much more interesting question. she says it a number of times but i think to her, this is all about control. i think that because of what happened to her with tom, she’s someone who is terrified of losing control of her mind and of her own agency. so as not to lose that, she’s willing to do whatever it takes. it is a ‘you can control my body, but not my thoughts,’ sort of narrative. and, she never says it outright because i think psychologically she’s just not there yet, but tom is everywhere in these letters. and as her world just spirals out, she hangs onto the very few things that she can control: her relationship to harry, and her willingness to do what it takes for them to survive. she initiates the ‘relationship’ with amycus in an attempt to control her fate. later, as she explains to harry she feels a lot of guilt over what she did, and like a lot of sexual assault survivors, she thinks it was her responsibility. because i’m in harry’s head most of the time for this fic, i’m not sure i’ll ever really get to discuss that at length, but it’s definitely something that i wanted to show. another interesting question is: does harry think it’s rape? i think at that point in the fic, he doesn’t have the education, nor the vocabulary for that. i think instinctively (because he is someone who is very instinctive), he doesn’t blame her. if he blames anyone, it’s probably himself. he understands the necessity to do what you have to do to survive and thinks that no, no matter what she claims, that was not consented. that’s kind of what comes out in his annoyingly inarticulate letter to her at the end. beyond that, though, i think he’s a bit lost, just like she is.
on a mildly related note, there is something that i've been seeing a lot in the comments and that i feel like i should maybe address? namely: harry's reaction to ginny dating other people. i assume similar comments will be made about his reaction to ginny/alecto (meaning that he still decides to write to her, at the end of the chapter). i've seen a lot of people observe that he's much more 'chill' about it in castles than in canon. fair point but is he, though? like, he isn't happy about it in castles. and he's jealous as well. but he was never entitled in canon. he was jealous, yes, the chest monster and all that, but he never really did anything about it, and never really impeded on her right to see other people. now, this being said, i agree that in sixth year he might have thrown a tantrum, had she done what she did in castles, but that was sixth year. it was before the war. before he lost half a dozen people. before he had to adult bloody fucking quickly. this being said, i do think castles-Harry is more 'subdued,' i suppose, than canon harry. this is a choice i made early on, which to me is related to the fact that he kind of lost his 'voice' during the war. i mean, it took him six months of people talking shit behind his back to do a press interview to defend himself. i think with ginny, it's a lot of the same. he's a boy who blames himself a lot, and generally doesn't particularly think he deserves the people in his life. to me it's an evolution of his character within the the world of castles. i'm happy to agree to disagree on it, but to me it makes sense within the character evolution and the way the fic's gone, so to speak. now, obviously, he'll grow out of that in due course, but we're not quite there yet.
regarding their relationship, now, i have to say: one headcanon that i did have for this was her not outright telling everyone they’d broken up. i’m sorry, that plan was shit. i just don’t buy for a second that she would willingly have gone ahead with it, and i don’t buy for a second that tom wouldn’t have used her had he known they’d been together, ex girlfriend or not. plus, i think she needed something to hand onto, and that was her relationship with him. her letters. the belief that they would be together again. without it, i don’t think she’d have survived. and i think that summer after the war, they were totally on the same page, for different reasons. both of them kind of saw their relationship as the one thing that kept them afloat, the one good thing they had, partly also because they’d idealised it for so long. she says it as some point, it wasn’t a relationship, it was a lifeline (another sentence i came up with as a response to a comment, lol) and while that is toxic and was meant to crumble at some point, it was necessary for them, both during the war, and in the early days after it. i think her last letter to him is painstakingly correct on that one.
regarding canon, i know i’m bending a couple of things here, which i just wanted to quickly acknowledge: 1) i know jkr has said it’s teddy remus lupin. i just can’t believe, for a moment, that someone who hated himself as much as lupin did, canonically, would name his son after himself. naming his son after his best mate who died to young to become problematic though? i totally see it. so yeah, creative licence, it’s teddy james lupin in this house, lol. 2) when they meet neville in dh, he kind of hints that they’ve only just started to use the room of requirement a couple weeks ago. the text however, only says they’ve only been staying in it full time a couple of weeks ago. i needed them to have somewhere where to meet with the da and stuff, so i bent that a bit. it’s not strictly canon, but it’s also not not canon, if that makes sense.
on seamus blowing things up and talking about eight hundred years of oppression? full disclaimer, while i am french, i have been living in ireland for long enough to become eligible for citizenship in less than six months (yay!). i know some people have said that seamus is a bit of a cliche in the books/films and all (the only irish character keen on blowing things up, haha *eyeroll*), but i actually kind of love it? like, the whole thing about the cranberries and zombie at the start of the fic has been in my head for much longer than i care to admit. i love the idea that there’s this whole muggle war going on at the exact same time that no one ever talks about and actually, i find the idea of wizarding ireland v. muggle ireland and the whole political structure fascinating. like, is wizarding ireland an independent state? what’s the story there? i have a whole seamus fic in my head, partially on this topic, that i might or might not write one day.
lastly, i know this may sound a bit weird but i need to say it: once i’d figured out what and how i was writing it, i bloody loved writing this chapter. first stylistically, i really wanted to mimic the style of how i’d written the magazine article in chapter 5 (i.e. not writing out the whole thing but writing out in text the excerpts that harry focused on) and i love how that turned out. i think it was a good way to balance her words and his, kind of merging them into one, big narrative. second, as a writer, it was so fucking interesting to write someone who knows how to write, which believe it or not i’d never done before. additionally, i loved the challenge of editing this because it was like: i’ve got to edit this, but not too much? i was very careful about modifying and polishing too much of ginny’s speech in the letters because i obviously wanted it to sound like someone who was just writing as the words came to her, without polishing the words, the punctuation, etc. like i usually would. i wanted her to have quirks (she says ‘you know?’ a lot) and i played with her capitalisation and punctuation a bit too. i know these aren’t necessarily noticeable details but it was definitely something that i thought about and that was very fun and interesting to write, as a format.
wow, okay. this was LONG but i think i have everything i wanted to say. if you’ve read all of this (whyyyyy?), thanks so much for sticking around. if you’ve got any questions, anything i didn’t address, do let me know, anon or not, my ask box is open. now, i would love to say i’m going to chill or something, but the truth is that i have to a) actually do a last read through of the fic, lol and b) put it out. this is what i get for writing the a/n before finishing the damn thing, i guess. i’ll rest tomorrow, lol.
lastly, in terms of next chapter, realistically, i’d say eight to ten weeks. i have a full time job now and also, writing this was fucking exhausting and i need to take time out for a bit before coming back to it with a fresh mind. i will be writing other stuff though, i promise. i have a couple of prompts to get to (thanks!!!) and a couple of other ideas so i will probably be posting in the meantime, just not castles.
lots of love,
p.
16 notes · View notes
Note
I’m not a songwriter by any means, just someone who loves to unpack tay’s music. So this might be a bit long.
Speak Now is self-written, which I’m still very impressed by to this day. But the producers (taylor and chapman) also worked with people who arranged the song under them, which could affect taylor’s songwriting (I was watching Haunted bts the other night). Cause songwriting isn’t lyrics only, it’s structures, progression, melody, etc. For example, while tay toplined all the lyrics to Dessner’s tracks, he’s still credited as co-writer bcs he affects how taylor writes a song.
As for Speak Now, I believe it’s entirely self-written (co-writers appearing might be a glitch (?)) but I do sometimes wonder about the process behind that album. Getting the sole credit is hard! Especially since Speak Now involves a lot of orchestra and arrangement, which aren’t as simple as say, the self-written stuff on Red (think abt I Almost Do, SBT, or stuff on Lover). Cause like what if the guitar guy recommends tay to extend her bridges or something to maximise the Mayer-esque riff on Dear John? Does she have to give him credit?! You know stuff like that.
That said, the song Red, is quite complicated production wise, I think. And i’m always very captivated by the post-chorus glitchy “r-r-r-e-e-e-d” like that was max martin britney era melody 😁 i think she’s one of the few writers who completely get the “pop” formula even before she ventures into full-fledged pop, which is why her chemistry with max’s team is so cool. Contrast this to someone like Lorde who has said before that she disagrees with Martin’s interpretation of what a pre-chorus is in the song “Ribs” (Max didn’t produce that song but he gave Lorde ‘notes’; he wanted the pre-chorus to be the chorus). Hence why tay work so well with max cause she doesn’t like to overcomplicate (Dessner also talked about this, partly the reason why Folklmore was made so quick). The most unconventional she ever done is Seven, IMO. Anyway, I love how she cites Max as inspo guru for her pop stuff, cause I do believe she learned a lot from him! I know a lot of dudes bro like to over-credit him, but i truly think his “mathematic pop” compliment songs like Style, Blank Space, Wildest Dreams, New Romantics very well (cause his lyricism is awfully bad, he doesn’t care for meaning. See “hit me baby one more time”… what?). People like to say Max is the “king of pop” and stuff. No he isn’t, if he is, he wouldn’t need other artists to give him #1s. Style wouldn’t work without Tay sexy ass lyrics, nor will Blank Space.
It's definitely interesting how Speak Now is credited as an entirely self-written album when obviously there are compositional credits that Taylor could not possibly have written (like an entire string orchestra because of course she didn't write that) but were layered on top of fully written songs she has crafted music and lyrics to in full. Which is in contrast to the melodic components that Aaron Dessner contributed to folkmore and that Taylor wrote lyrics to - with both of them receiving songwriting credit.
I think the difference is that Taylor received whole songwriting credit for creating the main melodies and chord structure of the songs. The additional instrumentals to support the songs were credited as musicians contributing to track. I'm sure those crediting discussions get broken down in studio during the recording process.
13 notes · View notes
Text
Witcher of the Night (Chapter 17)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.
UPDATES FOR WITCHER OF THE NIGHT WILL BE PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY NOW IN MY TIME (GMT +8)
CHAPTER 16.1
WOTN MASTERLIST
Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader
Summary: You couldn't save everyone and it was a decision to sacrifice yourself for the betterment of a family you've began to hold dear. Your existence in the continent continues to confuse everyone, including you and Geralt himself.
Warnings: Blood? Poor Jaskier. Cusses. Implied rape from fuckin' assholes. No more glitters and rainbows. Bloedzuiger from the games? Gifs of Geralt with jet black eyes? I mean..why? shouldn’t it not be a warning? Heh.
Words: 5.9k
A/N: Anybody missed me?! Heehee! Now, I fookin miss Geralt and Midget together. Damn it. *sits in a corner and cries* I can’t believe I’ve surpassed my own curse where I only reach up to 5 chapters then keep a story unfinished due to lack of inspo and will. 😭😂 (Update has been earlier due to my uncle’s birthday tomorrow and I might not be able to use my laptop. Hehehe) We’re in the middle of the whole fic, bb’s. This is where everything’s going to happen now. Probably might earn some temple scratching somehow. Hehehe. 
TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue! PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK AFTER READING, BB!  
Disclaimer: PNG’s and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and this fanfic is definitely from moi. (Credits to bi-jaskier and others who deserves credit for the gifs)
MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
7 BILLION PEOPLE IN EARTH. YOUR DIMENSION. There was a myth that seven people might look exactly like you out of the billion that were born. Though, being identical was a once in a blue moon circumstance that held no support or proof that it happened.
Twins even had their own genetic differences, their DNA's were not even the same or even mutually identical to one another.
But, you were transported into another dimension that you didn't know about and based on their conversation and how you've perceived from what they were saying is that you have already been in their hands when it never even happened from the start.
They sounded like they've already seen you somewhere when they haven't at all.
Chevaliers circled around you with their swords sheathed from where it rightfully belongs. They've had a malicious glint in their eyes, dangerous and full of spite. Disgust even included in their humanized souls---if they were even still human. They were looking as if you were an oddball. Judgemental to the fullest; vaguely telling that you were considered as a freak for being the witcher's woman.
Forest green eyes scanned yours, listless but an anomalous situation from the group of uncharitable gallants who seemed to have similar odious characteristics. This cavalier stood out rather than the rest because his eyes held sympathy and not hostility. He was gracile, the same body built as Jaskier. But, wearing no armor just like the vampire you loathed the most. Other than a brown doublet which matches his chocolate colored hair.
He crouched before you, thoroughly scrutinizing your face under his gaze; finding something distinctive or common with the lass that they have captured three days ago, "Wasn't she the one we captured, Ty? That thief named Savia?" his tone held curiosity and astonishment when he saw the exact same face of the woman.
There was no differences except from the aura he could feel. You had her face, voice and body structure. Entirely the same for his wits to disfunction from what he has witnessed.
The scrubbing echo of gravel, dirt and leather made you turn your head to where it was. Tybalt. The fucking vampire who stabbed you on the hip and tried to sell those women away. He was there, right in front of you; grinning like a mad man like he has caught a mouse in the cage, entirely anticipating this moment to capture you once again with purposes you didn't know yet.
Kolby was nowhere to be found. After trying to protect you from the hands of Tybalt, your Hirikka was pushed back by the vampire and his strength, making you screech as Kolby loudly whimpered and growled when he'd stumbled; his back flat from the far distance before skedaddling off through the woods. The simple escape back to where he belonged pinched a your heart because he had already been a part of what made you happy with your stay in their dimension.
You didn't expect his leave to be so early; in the midst of being captured by the hands of real life monsters.
If people were scared of monsters in this world you were currently in, then they should think twice because the cruel form of life in every damn world was the humanity it thrives in; continuing to become cruel, vicious, evil and cunning because people lived to strive more with greed surging through their veins as their own demons try to conquer.
Humanity was everyone's main enemy and not their monsters.
Tybalt gave you a subtle tilt of his head, his grin utterly sinister; those teeth of his never showing the fangs that you have seen back at the marketplace when he was trying to provoke Geralt as he was butchering off his knightly minions.
The break of dawn was coming to a start. Peachy orange glow of the sun hiding began to rest beneath the mountains and clouds that looked the same back in earth. Its glow have made everything more frightening while you were surrounded by a bunch of armored men and a vampire who obviously had strength and skills to kill you in a blink of an eye.
Geralt never scared you because his heart was good. No doubt about that because he had offer you his house from the first day you've met, even treating your wounds and saving you from an Alghoul who wanted to eat your insides. But, Tybalt was different. He didn't appear to be like a person to trust even the slightest except if you were a princess in the castle.
He had his hands on his hips, eyes digging to examine your face. The way he stood held power and cruelty as he clicked his tongue, "S'not the feisty one. I know this maiden's scent. She's the real one, aren't ye', you wench?"
Tybalt abruptly crouched down in front of you, his fingers speedily grabbing onto your roots and turning them in an aching posture that had you growling, teeth barred from the feral reaction. The wrinkles of his nose shown when he defiled your space, abrasing the column of your neck that ignited an intense shiver from the disgust as you cowered away and struggled against his hold.
You've heard Jaskier's footing come to a stand, his doublet spilled with his own blood. Hair all wild and facial expression livid for their sudden visit. The golden, sharp dagger tightened around his fist as he marched heavy steps towards the higher vampire.
But, his assault came to a stop when one cavalier shielded him before he could have Tybalt within reach, strongly punching him in the gut that made him stumble to the ground in less than a second. Jaskier sputtered out droplets of blood, a pointed sword punctuating the tip on his jugular.
Jaskier's pained moans made you snarl right back at the queen's right hand man which made him instinctively tut, "But, the fragrance has a distinctive scent to it now---I don't even know what's runnin' inside the mind of this whore anymore," Pause. Tybalt huffed, scoffing with a grin as he interrogated, "---What did the witcher do to ye'?"
You could feel his terrible breath on your face. His hold unwavering from the resolute strength that he had when you lowly grated through clenched teeth, your eyes screaming elfish because of how you were trying to dillydally in hopes of seeing a white haired witcher to come running towards you with his horse. But, considering how he was probably out to hunt a monster, he was probably busy and distracted. So, expecting the worst was better than awaiting for a moment that will never come.
"Me." you fooled around despite being in the vampire's hold, "---He's doing me. I've waited for the time to say that if someone ever asks me what my lover does---so, worth it, Leonidas."
From your foolish response, Tybalt sneered before nodding off towards the paladins who surrounded both you and Jaskier; sharing an understanding to do what is needed and before you could even turn your head back to check on Jaskier, they were already beating him down to pulp. You've heard more grunts from the twink of a toubadour which made your eyesight go foggy from being hopeless and such a waste to live in their world where you had no magic to keep everyone out of danger, "No! Don't hurt him!" you shrieked out loud, the gallants never ceasing despite of your pleads.
More blood dripped out of the side of Jaskier's lip as he took another strong blow on the gut; making his body jerk that laid from the outstretched land of the meadow. You've uttered one loud scream to catch their attention, noticing the other gallant that you noticed to be standing on a corner was just watching everything unfold like he didn't want to be involved with their horseshit.
"I swear to God, he's a weakling! Stop!---please, stop! You'll have your witcher! I'll give you your witcher just stop!"
With one signal of his head, the cavaliers stopped their battering. Jaskier feebly straightened his limbs over the short grass, coughing out more blood from their corporal punishments, grumbling out a grouse from your choice of words in which you described him with, "Shit. Rat. I've stabbed three knights in the neck for you."
If Jaskier didn't acknowledge that fact and the risk which he has given to keep you alive, you wouldn't have noticed three dead bodies laying on the farthest end of the meadow where the forest began to meet its field.
You've harshly turned your head back to Tybalt, wanting to spit on his face for being one of the best imbecile in their world but decided against it to not irritate him further until Geralt was around. His eyes were livid, staring back at you and in your peripheral vision, you've seen the back door of your house slightly ajar, a slip of a pair of the prettiest blue eyes hidden behind the hatch that made you swallow from the consternation of Cirilla being found and taken with you.
If one person was needed for capture, it should be you; not the princess. If one was to leave their world, it must be you because you didn't belong to their dimension from the start.
One cavalier took his mask off, shaking his head for his black, medium length hair to fall down his neck as he curiously crouched beside you and Tybalt. Features telling you that he was stupefied from what he was seeing with his fixated gaze on your face, "There's a whole lotta' crazy we got here in the continent! The Butcher of Blaviken created bloodbath for this maiden?"
Though, astonishment isn't the only sensation he was feeling when you've felt his fingers graze upon the lines of your ear; seeming to be bawdy and suggestive from the sudden touch and you couldn't help but wrest away from his reach. Howbeit, Tybalt's hand that was yanking on your head made it difficult to.
"Though, this harlot is less feisty than the other! I would rather much have her for tonight,"
The knight's sentence was sheared off when he was strongly pushed by the shoulder from the vampire; his fingers pulling away from outlining your lips with his fingers as he fell on his ass flat on the ground. You've been pulled by the hair to stand, making you pant harsh breaths from how painful it was feeling. Hands were trying to wrench his fingers from your head but his hold was too tight for you to tweak away.
"Ingrith wants her untouched just like the other," Tybalt droned as he pulled you close to him, seeming to be tall as Geralt. His height being an advantage over your small form as he dragged you anywhere he wanted. The knight who was pushed to the ground grunted from how he was assaulted, scowling from Tybalt's shoving as he cackled in a shady manner when he heard the latter set boundaries from their current captive.
"Ye' know ye' shouldn't fuck with a witcher's tart, Allard."
"I would! The weccan' wouldn't mind, does he?" the disgusting cavalier brought his feet to a stand, dusting the grass from his flat derriere as he looked back at Tybalt with a slight tilt of his head; the longer his gaze holds, it turns even more disgusting as he looked like he was undressing you with those dark hues of his, they were the type of stomach-churning that can make you sick in no time, "Oh, she's probably a fuckin' freak like him, lad." the latter stated as a matter of fact, smirking in between his words as he nonchalantly continued.
"---Where's the freak?"
They were making your blood boil by how you could hear they were treating him. Has it been always like this in his world? ergo, he was living a life where people see him ghostly rather than a gifted human as he was seen in your eyes. You couldn't help but sarcastically giggle from their rude speech, "He has a name and it's Geralt. Don't disrespect him like that when you're actually the real freak, Edward." pause. "---You fuckers are worse than any other human." before you can even think twice, spit drizzled on Tybalt's face when you've fumed and barked back, "---More evil than the devil himself and I pray for each and one of you to go to fucking hell,"
"The devil don't exist here, ye' foolish cunt!"
Without any delay or second thoughts, a deafening sound of a slap has rumbled; it was a saddle-sore, the strong smack lingering longer on your cheek as excruciating as it can get. He probably used a little bit of his inhumane strength because of how you've descended down the ground; the side of your head hitting as your whole body fell. Your palms flat on the terra firma, receiving bruises on the edge of your lips because of how you've nosedived in it.
"Rat---!" Jaskier shouted from the background before you've heard the gallants haul him down to kick his face hard.
The asshole squat down to where you were stumbled down, his face showing no pity from what he'd done; slapping you on the face like you deserve it from being all talk and no help, "I suppose ye' don't know where he is. Fair enough then! Let's give er' a lil' bit of a chase---" pause. "---He must try and serve his purpose to the land of Kaedwen other than being a freak of a mutant and slaughtering monsters for coins,”
You spat out the metallic taste of your blood that went inside your mouth, shifting your eyes to where he was bent. You've placed your fingers on your side, gesturing towards the princess who seemed to be shaking and panicking from inside the house, seeing silver clasped around her hands as she was contemplating how to defend you both from the gallants. She had the sword that her and Geralt uses whenever they were trying to train; the weapon which has been in your hands as well.
But, you subtly gestured for her to stand down and hide. It won't be such a nice sight if she did want to help.
"You sound like the castle's loyal pet. Hilarious."
The whole scenario was a fight or flight, and the logical part of your brain screams to cooperate with what they wanted before anything ends up more badly than it can ever get. You lifted yourself off the ground, sitting on the floor while you give Tybalt the death glare as he grinned because he knew the action he did was a trigger for you to comply.
"Where's the other girl?" he chuckled, watching your fists tightened to your sides when you were on your feet. A bloody, deep gash on your cheek when some stone has scratched it and also from Tybalt's whack.
"Don't even think about it, you asshole." you immediately hissed when you knew he was talking about Cirilla. The latter also stood on his feet, tall and confident that his plans were going on the right path today.
"What? She yer' daughter? aren't ye' a child?"
"I'm no child, you fucker! Stop dissing my height like this!---and yes. My daughter. She's my daughter, so don't even think about it!"
Surprisingly, there was no tears seen in your face. They didn't deserve your tears. These people needed to rot in hell, you mindlessly thought to yourself and irritatingly bit on the insides of your cheeks which slightly drew blood from how angered you were. Peering up at the man who was giving you an obvious snicker because he could read that you were succumbing from how they've caught you in hindsight and in a weak position.
The lion cub of Cintra stood behind the doorway, crying her eyes out from how impotent she was because of how everyone wanted her to stay back. Cirilla knows she could help but people who surrounded her wanted not to use her powers as she has yet to learn and control. Hence, she couldn't do anything but watch another person in her life be in a snare or better yet, drown to die in this person's own blood.
So far, hearing those words hurt her heart because she couldn't do anything when you were unconditionally risking your life for her not to be involved because that's what it's supposed to be.
To you, she was being treated more than she can ever expect; the title of a daughter that she didn't knew she missed to need, a mother despite of being not connected through bloodline. But, a woman who would care for her well-being just like how her grandparents did loved her.
Consider herself lucky even though how unfortunate her life began. She received a father and a mother that will risk everything just for her to be safe and she knew she was crying right now because she cared for you; she was concerned like how a daughter would.
Your jaw tightened because you wanted to bash their skulls over and over again until they were dead. They probably was from how you've intellectually murdered them inside your mind since the moment they arrived. You irately peered up at Tybalt, your forehead tightly creased, mouth in a tight frown as you gave him a death stare.
"You want Geralt of Rivia right? then, take me. He'll come after if you take me, just don't kill Jaskier and my daughter."
Jaskier hurriedly shook his head and audibly muttered out his negations to himself from what you had in mind. You were surrendering yourself to them. The bard promised to the witcher not leave your side as much as he would do, but his family was prevailed over the count of cavaliers who came; thinking Geralt was probably there to fight with. But, no. The opposed held a number and Jaskier wasn't mutated nor skilled to know any form of magic for defense.
He knew today will be a loss and after hearing your next words, the humble toubadour knew that you've risked your life again for the betterment of their kingdom and theirs.
"Tell Geralt I seriously need some saving---and I promise this will be the last time I'm needing him again," you forced a smile, looking at the bard with your vermillion all drenched in claret red liquid while trying to send off the meaning that you would be okay while you were away with them.
Nevertheless, he never heard the fast, anxious beating of your heart for what will welcome you to wherever they decide to put you in.
Rough hands shoved you forward, making you look away from Jaskier as you began to take grudging steps to where Tybalt's horse awaits, the image of your smile falling was the last that Jaskier can remember before you left, "---Also, tell him I have a very important secret to say so he better hurry up!"
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Scattered skeletons were buried beneath the dank ground of the gloomy swamps. Nightfall has taken its course when Geralt arrived; surprising to say that he arrived earlier than he expected to. Some trees were dead while the others have been cut-off by their limbs from inexplainable reasons. From monsters who probably lived in the area and based on how the moon aligned, it was already midnight; close to morning.
The witcher was wounded. Abnormally drained and in fatigue from using his little spells to slaughter the Bloedzuiger; his arm, back and torso currently in pain due to its acidic blood that splattered him, slightly ruining the body of his armor and the under shirt he wore.
Geralt has used Aard and Igni to fight off the beast and his energy spiked low to the point that he could sleep standing on the ground. But, the idea of his family alone made him push the plan aside because his family was more important than his life.
The latter even took a faster route to arrive and slaughter the beast earlier than his estimated days.
He was just beyond drained and parched tonight.
Long, begrudging sighs left his lips. His hair was sticking all over, eyes still black from the potion he drank, clothes all wet from being shoved under the water and a face too grubby that also held burnt patches that will surely heal in no time. Though, some will probably earn him a scar or two. He was stalking towards his horse, his silver sword that was used for monsters on one hand when the witcher has heard a tiny step of footing that broke a twig, making him slightly turn his head to the quiet noise he heard.
Tumblr media
This intruder took more cautious steps closer and he wanted to curse out loud for all the interruptions that made his life more complicated than it already is.
Human. Geralt knew it was human. This person even had a scent to it. She was a woman who had a strong floral fragrance; rose and earthy.
"You shouldn't be here," he lackadaisically declared to no one in particular as he sighed for the hundredth time this day. Heedful of the woman hiding behind a dead tree as he strolled to where Roach waited, ignoring her as he strolled.
Thus, the woman was strong enough to acknowledge a witcher in his full form as she decided to walk towards him, talking in pure fascination to have seen one in the flesh.
"A Witcher. I've heard tales of your kind. Though, I’ve heard new wicked bavardage from town that this particular beast has slayed my own kind for the sake of saving one. Wouldn’t it be wiser to choose the lesser evil or the greater good?" she scoffed before continuing, “---aren’t you quite miserly to have done such thing by killing less or maybe more than a dozen and salvaging yours?”
Geralt dropped the loot that he has ransacked from the monster, dropping them inside his leather bag with a scowl. This woman's tone of voice perking his ears that made him cease his packing.
Tumblr media
"You were never just a mere epic," she sarcastically laughed in spite. The timbre of her voice thoroughly distinctive and familiar for Geralt to be incorrect. He gave her a sharp side-eye, his eyes jet black when his mind went in befuddlement after recognizing a face that he managed to memorize since the moment that this certain woman came in his life.
"You're the witcher they're finding. The butcher! You were the reason I was taken! Feckin' Geralt of Rivia, aye!"
She was you.
A face that always keeps his mind going in haywires. Features that can be considered as a strong weakness for the witcher because of how he'd easily let his guard down with just a glimpse of a face that could ruin his resistance over having another woman be prone of peril in his dangerous, hindering life.
Even only hours of being away from you; half a day to be precised. With just by seeing her face tempted him to reach out for what he longed for; to touch the face of the woman who'd felt deep sensations for him---accepting of what he actually was with no judgement in her mind. The ache and worry in his chest was not helping how he yearned to never leave you alone in the first place.
He couldn't help but take a step close to the woman who also had the same height as you. His obsidian eyes staring straight into her soul like he'd seen the devil and he was happy to worship; jaw tight as his lips came with a lour.
Geralt looked utterly monstrous for a person who wasn't used to seeing his kind.
"Midget?"
The woman instinctively took a step back despite of how she was running her mouth a while ago; fear shutting her confidence that she could confront him for bothering a life she also dreaded to live in. Her eyes filled with horror and disgust in which Geralt clearly has seen without the use of his doubled up heightened senses.
She was not his tiny mortal. This woman in front of him was beyond different. The real you wouldn't look at him in sheer revulsion; no profound emotion in those eyes that he was used to seeing.
She had her brows in a tight twist, sending him a nasty glare that got him humming out in distaste from an attitude he wasn't use to seeing with a face like yours, "I'm not a fucking midget! What a shitty name you've got me! Doesn't sound too nice to hear too! Ya' fuckin' brought me ill-fate!"
Geralt was quick to turn around his heel. Brooding once again from the bafflement that got him thinking again. Why did you have a person who looked exactly like you in their world?
"You're not her." he stated as a matter of fact, sounding confident with his assumptions because the witcher knows he is right. Geralt walked over to his horse, huffing out a breath off his nose from sheer displeasure as he heard the woman jogging to where he wanted to go.
"Apparently not. You're mistaking me with another unfortunate little lady then!"
"Who are you?" Geralt didn't bother to give her a glance no matter how he wanted to relieve the longingness to see your face; to know that you were safe in their home with Jaskier and Cirilla, hoping that everybody was protected and safe from anyone.
But, this woman with him was not you. He needed to remember that.
She tightly crossed her arms on her chest, eyeing the brooding man as sharply as the woman could with her maroon colored cloak strapped around her shoulders, the hood off when she'd arrived to have seen him, "The name's Savia, witcher."
"Why are you here?" he timidly grumbled, his silver sword in a scabbard after the fight. Roach neighed aloud, huffing out a breath when Savia was an arm close to her, acting like she didn't like her.
Geralt couldn't help but raise a brow from his horse's sudden actions, bringing up a hand to shush her with his fingers brushing along her mane.
Savia can't help but take a cautious step back at that; his horse's reaction making her feel unwelcome and unwanted by the pair. Though, her blabber mouth couldn't help but run on and on, being all chatty when she was in the verge of being chased down by gallants. Savia knew she could outrun them like she wasn't even being pursued from the start because she has been doing this for years; stealing lots of valuable things then never being found after as she can always escape from the brutal hands of lords, inn keepers, and a whole lotta' more.
"I've escaped! Stolen goods from the castle? Their riches? Serves them right for keeping me in prison! Oh! I could steal yer' coins too, if you want. But, now I shan't retrieve them after telling all my plans! I'm no fool! I'm a skilled thief. Sounds professional, isn't it?"
She couldn't help but giggle, utterly blowing with the wind from the occupation she had; confident regardless of how unseemly her job was to live. Though, Geralt didn't give any negative reactions because he was the last person to judge someone who had an indecent job just to live in their world.
He kills and hunts monsters for a living. It doesn't sound too appealing for a normal human, correct? Hence, he wasn't in the position to criticize a thief especially when this poacher looks entirely like you.
"---I've killed some knights out there just to escape, ye' know? Maybe a bunch! Ye’ can still count em with your fingers!" the witcher ceased ferreting around in his bag when he'd finally given her his attention. The color of his eyes subsiding and turning back to its normal hue. Gold in the middle of the night like star light illuminating her gloom and it made Savia stare at him in awe because of how he typically looked like without the potion and all.
Well, hearing the gossips about him from the women in the brothels and men who shared their wicked tales were really true because the witcher who stood before her right now was a complete knockout who had a terrifying shadow he left behind.
Savia couldn't help but pout her lips inquisitively, catching sight of his amber heavily examining her face with a gist of feeling that she couldn't recognize because of how she has never receive nor experienced the look of love. But, the woman was sure he was only blinded by the fact that the face she had held whatever he holds dear; a person he had in mind that he swore to protect, desire and care for.
Savia has never seen a witcher look considerate and warmhearted. The opposite of what people claimed his kind to be. He was the butcher of Blaviken. Perhaps, she have been a witness of his character changing with one simple cast of a face he claimed to be important.
She knew that midget was too significant to him when his face turned back to normal, stretched in a way that has him looking anxious, bothered and utterly worried from the words he heard.
"I'm wondering how I've been involved by a witcher I never seen or met. They were weird! Got me bruises because I never knew where you were and I couldn't tell where ye' live!" pause. Savia's lips emitted an awkward scoff, "---Those fucking gallants did a number on me for days that I have been imprisoned. They were thinking you would go and save me---oh, shiver me timbers! No obsidian--golden eyed witcher would save me from my demise!"
Geralt torpidly blinked back at her, his forehead tightly creasing; trying to deliberate what was happening. His thoughts immediately skipping to bad ideas and outcomes because of the fact that you had someone looking like yourself.
"They were shitty and off one's rocker! Especially that sorceress because she wanted to cast me under her spell, trying to get me examined because I didn't belong to their world---wondering if I had some sort of magic in me for her to possess. She was batshite crazy!"
He couldn't help but irritatingly shut his eyes, mutely giving himself a talk while he kept his mouth shut; not risking to be heard nor is this woman close enough for her to know what's inside his thoughts. Geralt chose to stay silent, breathing down long heavy inhales and exhales from the drawbacks that suddenly occurred.
Here was destiny starting again.
Savia loudly huffed before him, raising a cocky brow when she hadn't heard that deep, gravelly voice that sounded unfamiliar from the ones she has always been hearing, "Are witcha's always this silent? I've been doing all the talking! It's like you're a mute!"
The Witcher heard footfalls coming from a distance. Two gallants. It was only a pair for now and if the woman didn't took her flight before the entire horsemen arrives, she would be taken again and be behind bars in the fortress of Kaedwen.
Would he save the thief who made everything more complicated by looking exactly like you? Creating a mishap by stealing jewelry from the queen?
Everything he thought about would result in an intense migraine because Geralt know you'll be accused of a crime that was never done by his midget. Therefore, taking you in for captive would end up being like hitting two birds in one stone; they get to have him running off to where the castle is and also have the accused thief who didn't need no convincing because of how Savia showed up in their lives; ruining yours.
"Fuck. Why did you need to show up now and complicate things---even had to fucking steal ornaments from the queen with a face who is utmost valuable to me."
The frustrated question was sent to Savia who stepped back from the latter; his teeth suddenly barred and feral, sharply staring down at her. Totally irritated by what she'd done. Geralt heard metal being dragged out of its scabbard and it took him one turn of his head to be welcomed by two knights who was ready to pounce on him by seeing what he was.
One of his monikers slipped out of their tongues with such disgust and a hitch of their breath. There was no use for killing cavaliers tonight because this woman hardly have been involved in his life, yet he would still save because of having a weakness that seemed unfair for her to have.
Geralt raised his hand towards the taller knight who opened its mouth to shout at his fellow horsemen who held their torches from a far distance when suddenly a string of glowing, white line shot through his head; casting Axii for the men to take despite of how the witcher was feeling low with his energy that has been used prior to hours before they arrived.
It was a simple magical sign where it compromises hypnotic effect; it can be used to calm down people or animals, manipulate their minds or be used to hex enemies. A triangular white symbol surrounded the string of line which paved its way towards their heads; passing through both as they were momentarily stunned, acting as if they were puppets and Geralt had the strings.
Thus, after a while; Savia was astonished to see both armored men attacking each other like they were in a battleground and they were both forgotten.
Yet, it wouldn't last long.
"Witcher! What did you feckin’ do?!" she squeaked, heart beat racing from the adrenaline rush.
Geralt had not taken a second before jumping on his horse, gripping onto her reigns and pulling to turn her around, quickly nudging her to gallop towards the path back to where he could go home.
He needed to come back home. The heavy and worried feeling inside his chest wasn't just the result of overthinking. Geralt knows that there was something happening now and it wasn't good. He needed to know if you were safe, all in complete set of limbs when he sees you, if ever he could even get to again because the dreaded feeling was rising higher in such a toxic amount that would make him blame himself when you're gone.
Geralt couldn't even think straight for even contemplating about the idea that you were gone and out of his reach.
"Leave before they actually kill you. It can only last for seconds due to the energy left in me,"
He'd run off before Savia can even acknowledge his kindness. The Butcher of Blaviken has helped her escape. He wasn't a murderer nor did he hurt her.
"Geralt of Rivia, right?!" she yelled out to no one in particular after watching Geralt leave with his horse. The simple yell has caught the attention of more gallants, seeing the flames of their torches walking their way through the forest and through the swamps that got her zipping her mouth shut. Those two hypnotized gallants falling on the swamps behind her from beating each other to death.
Savia couldn't help but hum in interest, whisper-yelling her next words as if the witcher can hear her amongst his troubled heart.
"---Thank you for letting me escape! you're helpful after all!"
Tumblr media
Geralt please axii my puxii LMAO. FEEDBACKS ARE SO MUCH APPRECIATED! (Strikethough over the tags mean I couldn’t find your blog, bb’s.)
Taglist for WOTN: @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @vania-marie @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernaturalhero @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer @marvelousell @kingniazx @angelias134 @tapismyforte @chook007 @covid-donotenter @deadlydemon @cheesecakeisapie @angelofthor @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum @stuckupstucky, @shesthelastjedi, @a--1--1--3, @gutfucks, @raynosaurus-rex​, @britty443, 
Overall witcher taglist: @pizza-eater-i-ate-the-pizza​, @crazybutconfidentaf​
General taglist for Henry Cavill: @agniavateira​, @iloveyouyen​, @rahdaleigh​, @silverkitten547​
Tumblr media
159 notes · View notes
jcmorrigan · 3 years
Note
How was your element of harmony fic gonna end?
OOH NOW THIS ONE HAS BEEN SUCH A WHILE THAT THIS ACTUALLY SOUNDS FUN TO TALK ABOUT
Context for those unaware: EoH was one of my many attempts at a multicrossover. A predecessor to TBTC. It was my goal at being an EVERYTHING CROSSOVER and taking forever to highlight every little thing that could be explored in the canon of each work used. And I was in a difficult relationship with KH at the time, even though it was obviously a KH derivative, so I didn't want to actually use Sora and co. as the main cast. MLPFIM was a comfort show for me, and I was already used to the br0n135 using the Mane Six in crossovers with everything you could imagine, so I was like, hey, let's do this, Mane Six are now multi-world travelers and Discord is assembling every villain ever to stand in their way. (KH then ended up in the mythos anyway!) This is also where I was playing the infamous Twilight Sparkle/Mozenrath ship that is now very very dead.
To explain exactly what all was going on with the lore and politics of it to make this last bit make sense would take too long, so from there, please just...roll with it. I'm about to detail you THE FINALE ARC
The original idea was actually, at some point, to begin work on the Finale Arc when most of the main players were introduced. Then go back in time and keep editing the middle of the story to go on indefinitely. A bad business plan for many reasons, first of all being that I didn't even get to introduce the players that would've made it possible to begin the arc. That's how long I took to explore EVERY FRICKIN THING.
Over the course of the story, Discord has been interfering on every crossover world you can imagine, to the point of sometimes altering their canons into "fix fic." The story is aware of this. It's kinda like in the Loki series (of which I've only watched episode 1) where there's a "sacred timeline" and Discord's crossover actions are deliberate attempts by him to break it. We learn at some point that paradoxes and timeline changes are what broke the Age of Fairy Tales into the KH worlds we know today. So Discord rounds up his Old Ones (the Lovecraftian monstrosities that are more powerful than gods) and they all band together to strike at all the cracks he's put in the structure of the multiverse, and it all just falls APART. Worlds are destroyed, time has no meaning, suddenly everything is shards floating in void. The main players survive, mostly. Countless civilians die. Some named characters are given tragic deaths.
I've actually written one little snippet from this arc because I wanted to. It details two particular characters, who at the time were side villains I enjoyed and was just digging the vibe of, going down defending a stronghold from the creatures of Darkness (oni, yokai, Heartless, Grimm) that emerged from the void when everything broke. By the way do you want to take a guess who these characters IT WAS ARCHIBALD SNATCHER AND ROMAN TORCHWICK. GOD, THAT SHOULD'VE BEEN THE SIGN RIGHT THEN AND THERE THAT THEY WERE WHO I WANTED TO BE WRITING ABOUT FULL-TIME
But! I had a friend who'd lent me the book "Haroun and the Sea of Stories," and I was REALLY into that book's whole concept of "all stories in existence are threatened to end." So I lifted Khattam-Shud, a personification of The End (and I have since heard is also a political caricature), as the ACTUAL final boss. Discord wanted to blow up the multiverse because of the CHAOS that would ensue! KS, however, wanted to end EVERYTHING. (If I were doing this today, he'd just flat-out be Ansem, Seeker of Darkness instead.) Discord would realize he'd been played as KS makes a bid to line up one more cataclysm that will reduce everything to dust.
Heroes and villains alike, Discord included, find each other across the wastelands and amass into one last survivors' army led by the Mane Six. They approach the final field standing between them and KS and they charge. KS unleashes Dark creatures (Echthroi, as I had it) to gun them down. Pretty much everyone dies in this battle except the Mane Six themselves. (Which should give you a hint as to how this REALLY ends, but let's keep going.) The Mane Six fight their way to KS (and I'm REALLY gonna date myself here - the final line of defense before him was gonna be Paige the freaking Notebook from DHMIS as a personification of creative control). He shatters the Elements and then un-exists the Mane Six, but they don't die.
Instead, they end up in a sort of...white realm, inspired by the development rooms in The Stanley Parable (I was into even weirder fandoms back then than I am now apparently?). At one point it was gonna be "inside the author's laptop" and they could see doors to other timelines (i.e. crossover fanfics my friends were doing). They can also see all the files here for all the worlds they visited on their way and all the friends they made. Y'know, everything that's now DEAD.
The memories of everyone and everything they loved, however, allows them to forge one (1) new Element stone. This is...wait for it...THE ELEMENT OF HARMONY. Its surface shimmers with a rainbow of all colors! But wait! When it's flipped over, there's another side to the same gem, with colors dissonantly swirled around in an ugly way. Our heroines realize that the Element of Harmony also serves a dual purpose as the Element of Chaos, since you can't have one without the other!
The Mane Six find a way back to KS' battlefield, where he's about to finally UN-EXIST EVERYTHING. Twilight gets to say the one and only "FUCK" she's allowed to say in the whole story (I really...want to use this same joke on Mozenrath in TBTC...I know I've said he curses inaudibly to keep him IC but just imagine in the finale arc he gets the one and only FUCK he's ever allowed in his life). The six huddle around their Element of Harmony and activate its magic, casting a rainbow aura that begins to heal the broken multiverse. KS then tells them there's no way that will ever work because he and the other Old Ones caused so many paradoxes that it'll fall back apart again. To build a multiverse that's stable under these conditions would make no sense. And Twilight goes "WHAT FUN IS THERE IN MAKING SENSE" and flips the Element over to the Chaos side! Now the Chaos energy basically...fixes all the plot holes and physical impossibilities of the multiverse, allowing it to rebuild everything that had broken without a single issue!
Discord petrifies Khattam-Shud and it was fairly badass but I can't remember exactly what one-liner I gave him to end it.
Lights up on a rebuilt multiverse. Everyone's alive again and nothing's broken! YAY! And everyone in the survivor army (though they're not "survivors" anymore since EVERYONE is alive again) has come to Equestria to give the Mane Six a celebration for saving literally everything! AND THEY'RE ALL PONIES OR OTHERWISE MAGICAL CREATURES BECAUSE OF MY RULES OF FORM CHANGING IN THAT FIC. HAHAHAHAHA IT WAS A VERY COMICAL MENTAL IMAGE AND STILL IS.
The Six get their ships (Twilight/Mozenrath, Pinkie Pie/Megavolt, Fluttershy/Sakuya from Okami, Rarity/Stork, Rainbow Dash/I would really rather not say this one because it was taboo in a way I don't wanna touch again, Applejack/I don't even know anymore because it was gonna be Emma Swan and then it wasn't and then I just got confused). And everyone just has a good time.
The Six then take off in the ship again for THE ADVENTURE CONTINUING, EVEN THOUGH AFTER THIS I WOULD JUST GO WRITE ETERNAL ADVENTURE LEADING UP TO THIS MOMENT
Also I heard the song "We Come Running" by Youngblood Hawke on the radio once and I was like "This would go great over a credits sequence" so I used it for a while as my inspo for a KH-style "credits montage" where you see each of the most major worlds and the factions that live on them, and an early concept for the WHAM ARMY was one of these factions and this cracks me up so much because they graduated from a shot in the KH montage to WE ARE THE PROTAGS OF THE NEXT FIC
And that's pretty much it!
2 notes · View notes
lexicals · 4 years
Text
Liner notes for An Echo, An Answer
Okay let's give this a go I guess? I may add more to this if I remember things too lol
Fair warning this is an exceedingly long post. It has ~subheadings~ (ooh). These cover: 
Fun Facts
Notes about mira
Notes on actual writing/plot
Post-canon tidbits (to be supplemented by actual post-canon oneshot coming maybe not soon but definitely at some point probably)
Needless to say this contains some BIG OL’ SPOILERS. Please enjoy o:
Some general Fun Facts™:
When I posted the first few chapters of this fic, I didn't have a fucking clue where it was going. I didn't even know how kravitz died until I'd already posted like 10 chapters lmao. This was a stressful way to write and I am never doing that again
In terms of inspo, I remember there being a fic in which taako was a ghost and kravitz was a medium (if anyone knows what fic this is PLEASE tell me I cannot find it) and I think I subconsciously took inspiration from this. Also I’d already written a vampire au and I wanted more undead boyfriend shenanigans, I looove playing with the liminal aspects of kravitz being a dead-but-not-dead character
There was a goof version of this fic where kravitz wasn't from the 1900s at all and died in like. The early 2000s or something. He died having come back from/at a costume party, people assumed he was an actual ye olde victorian ghost, and he decided to just lean into it. Cue fake accent. This was scrapped mainly because I loved the ‘sleepy hollow’-esque man-out-of-time shenanigans way too much and also because I know very little about the early-2000s US but do you know what I do know a moderate amount about? 1900s england
I have not read the cask of amontillado and I did not know what it was until seeing the memes, which was after I wrote the basement body twist. I just wanted to have a cheesy secret basement behind a bookcase c'mon it's a murder mystery in an old spooky house let me have this
Anyone who's followed my content for a while probably knows that I'm a big trans kravitz stan, but I dithered over making him trans in this fic a Lot. This was mostly down to self-doubt abt a story ft. a trans man living as his preferred gender in that time period would be deemed "unrealistic" but in the end I said fuck it I want this & I think that was the correct move. Also I read a fair bit about absolute legend dr james barry & that made me a bit more confident about committing to the decision bc these people did exist & they deserve their rep
You may notice that all of the major OCs created for this fic are women. This was an accident but also I stand by it bc I think it helps to balance out the fact that so much of the ‘screentime’ is being dominated by the male leads (inc. angus, who probably has the 3rd most screentime after taako & krav). They’re also all just, absolutely indomitable people. I have a type when it comes to OCs. Speaking of:
Notes on mira:
Mira was very much a character created to serve a purpose, but she ended up becoming a lot more than that and I'm glad people warmed up to her while reading as much as I did while writing. She wasn't going to have anywhere near as much screen time initially as she did in the end but I just loved her & how her relationship with kravitz turned out so much that I ended up writing a bunch of snippets with the two of them just for me, which eventually turned into the fragment chapters because I wanted to share how gd cute they were. Also they ended up being pretty useful for plot too lol
She and flossy were actually kind of the same character to begin with, being kravitz's best friend who he lived with in a kind of lavender marriage with neither of them interested in the other but being happy enough being friends & pretending. I scrapped this pretty early for a lot of reasons but she was still the cause of his death in that version, whether or not she actively killed him. I think there was a gambling debts element at some point
Whatever iteration of the story, she was always going to be the cause of death. I ruled out actual murder pretty early on because I didn't want to tell a story about a gay, black trans man getting murdered in cold blood in his own home, which in a ghost story only really leaves manslaughter, and an accidental killing by a loved one was an idea that followed pretty hot on the heels of that decision - it's very sad, but there's no hatred behind it, so it's not too outright depressing for what is most likely an audience with a high population of marginalised people. That bittersweetness of tone - sad events, but almost always with loving intentions behind or around them - ended up being a real touchstone for the story as a whole
In terms of post-canon content for her, or I guess just stuff that wasn't mentioned in-fic lol, my idea of how her life played out is that she was a pretty solid pillar of her community for a very long time. She took what kravitz said about thinking about what she wanted to add to the world very much to heart, and her answer was for her to be to as many kids and vulnerable people as possible what kravitz was to her. Obviously in the end she poured a lot of herself into helping others out of guilt for having killed a man who she likely remembered a little rose-tinted, but the intent was always there before that too
I don't know how much this came across in the actual text but mira is mixed race (Black/white), though she is Black-coded in terms of how people see and respond to her (please tell me if I’m using these terms incorrectly). I downplayed a lot of the racial elements of this fic bc I don’t feel like it’s my place as a white writer to delve into those areas, but it is an element of her story that ties into anti-miscegenation laws and general societal attitudes and I didn’t just want to entirely gloss over those aspects, bc that wouldn’t be right of me either, so I can only hope the balance ended up working here, and for kravitz’s story too. I did a lot of the writing for mira’s story before even really thinking about this angle which is something I’ve learnt from now bc oh boy should I have thought about it sooner lmao........
Anyway. I love her. I’m very glad that other people love her too
In terms of story writing:
I used to watch A LOT of crime dramas when I was younger, and got so familiar with the structure of them that I used to predict who the killer was going to be about a quarter of the way into them almost every time. Most of the time the killer is someone introduced early on as someone fairly innocuous, but still notable, before the narrative doubles down on a red herring suspect who's proven innocent about 3/4 of the way through, paving the way for the real twist killer. You see where I took my base structure from here
So, mira is introduced early on as someone important to kravitz, who was involved in his life (& death) somehow, but in general she's more suggested to be a victim than a culprit - because of course she is, she’s a child and she loves him! I'm only just realising now that this is a "person of interest" style plot twist here. (Remember what I said about the crime dramas? Just so many of them.) But then in the end she suffered just as much as anyone else, so I guess you could say she's both a victim and a culprit, even by accident.......
Structurally I'm actually really happy with how this turned out. In my head (BECAUSE OH BOY I DID NOT WRITE ANY OF THIS DOWN! Or at least not in a coherent way) the story was split into three mini arcs - the enemies section ending with the kitchen blowout, the friends section ending with the the bay window scene, and the lovers section which covers the rest of the fic. This ended up integrating really well with the main mysteries/pulls of the story - the first being the will-they-won't-they (they will, it’s fanfiction, but how?) of the romance element, and then once that's tapering off starting to dig more into the murder mystery element, which had been more of a subplot up until then, while the romance moves onto the back burner a little bit. The dual genre was an interesting challenge to try to balance and I think it turned out pretty well!
While I'm on this, setting up my breadcrumb trails for the plot twists was simultaneously very stressful and very rewarding. Trying to keep things obvious enough to be noted but subtle enough not to give the whole game away? Gave me so many headaches lmao. I actually thought for sure that some people would twig about the body in the cellar sooner than ch42, but then actually in ch42 way more people picked up on fisher's sniffing around than I expected. Clues are hard!! But at the same time seeing the handful of people who called mira as an adoptive daughter, or the fact that krav fell down the stairs, or the fact that mira's og parents were involved was very cool and it made me very happy to see people picking up the little stuff and putting it together
QUITE A FEW PEOPLE SAID NICE THINGS TO ME ABOUT HOW CLEVER THE PIANO TUNING ANGLE WAS. I CANNOT TAKE COMPLETE CREDIT FOR THIS. IT WAS A PLOT HOLE THAT I SUDDENLY REGISTERED OUT OF NOWHERE WHILE I WAS IN THE SHOWER & THEN ENDED UP WORKING IN SO I GUESS IT TURNED OUT FOR THE BEST & MADE ME LOOK VERY SMART BUT IT WAS AN ACCIDENT
Something else that a couple of people have noted & that I only realised in the process of writing was the fact that a lot of kravitz's ghostliness in this fic has the potential to be read as an allegory for chronic illness/disability. This was something I only caught onto myself while I was writing the scene on the porch at the end of ch42 when I was writing kravitz's dialogue and was like..... oh shit that's a thing huh. Bc he is, y'know, quite literally housebound and limited in what he can do in a lot of ways, which is part of the reason I really tried to hammer home in that chapter that even though the fic ends with him being 'cured' (because that ending was always the intention from day one before I ever thought about this reading), they would have been happy together regardless. Love is not conditional!
Post-canon thoughts:
Taako and kravitz go into the house. Kravitz says oh my god what is that smell. Taako says he made blueberry pie earlier. Kravitz says okay we're putting bedroom fun times on hold I need that RIGHT NOW
Kravitz eats way too much too fast and spends the rest of the afternoon curled up on the sofa with a horrible stomach ache. He is not used to that much rich food. Taako is not impressed with this
He rolls his eyes and they watch a movie and talk instead and get to the bedroom fun times later
On the topic of food you Know krav ends up with a bit of a tummy from taako spoiling him. He looks & feels great and taako loves how comfy he is
Also on the topic of bodies I think krav does a lot of experimenting initially with what feels good now that he has a lot more freedom in presentation. He likes to mess with his hair a lot. Dresses and skirts are still a bad feel but a little makeup is fun sometimes. Kravitz living his best undeath 2k18 (I took so long to finish this fic it’s set 2 years ago now lmaoooo)
Kravitz lets taako drive him somewhere exactly Once before vowing NEVER AGAIN taako's driving privileges are REVOKED kravitz is going to get magnus to teach him to drive instead.
Taako says what the hell are you gonna do if you get pulled over you are a hundred and thirty and also dead you can't get a license. (He could get him a fake one, but he's not going to, because he's being petty about kravitz insulting his driving.) Kravitz says fine show me yours then. Taako says no but kravitz steals it anyway. A minute later he’s produced his own undoubtedly fake license out of nowhere complete with a fake DOB and a very nice picture
Taako says gasp kravitz that's ILLEGAL. Also you know you have to make this picture worse if you want it to be convincing right
Kravitz starts giving angus music lessons. Angus isn’t a natural by any means but he works hard and that gets him a long way
OH ACTUALLY I SHOULD PROBABLY SAY SMTH ABOUT THE REUNIONS HUH. GINNY THESE ARE FOR YOU:
Maybe it's weird to start with barry but the poor man has to have a sit down. He has so many questions. Kravitz what is the afterlife like it's fine you can tell him just give him a hint please and also can he maybe get like. A blood sample or something. No that's not weird it's for science what are you talking about taako bring him back
Kravitz is fully expecting lup to wreck his shit, and she acts like she's going to right up until she's close enough to give him a big ol hug instead. She says she missed him a lot & that he's much nicer to hug now that he's not a freezy boy, and kravitz goes ;_;
It's a very tight hug though. In some ways it is still a punishment
Also could he maybe hook her up with this death goddess of his? Lup would like to be immortal too, kravitz. Kravitz can you get a resume to your boss and could you write lup a reference while you're at it
Angus!! He’s so happy to have his other uncle back!! There’s a new caleb cleveland book he needs to read so they can talk about it!! All of this after a lot of crying and hugging.
I think at some point they do go over to visit mira’s descendants. Taako says hi remember me? I brought my boyfriend to visit! Unnamed great great grandchild #1 is like um he looks kind of familiar. Kravitz says well yes there is kind of a reason for that and it’s because I’m in that picture on the wall over there, hi I’m your great great grandfather nice to meet you
The family is a little weirded out by this at first but eventually they’re like. Well alright I guess do you want a coffee
Kravitz says yes please god do you know how many people keep offering me tea
He babysits for the youngest ones sometimes. The kids love him and the adults are happy to give him stories in exchange for his time, seeing as that’s all he asks for
Taako says ask them for money and contribute to this household kravitz. Kravitz says absolutely not they’re family and you’re already getting my youtube ad revenue
Yes kravitz has a youtube channel and is also very involved in the local music scene. He can’t do anything that would technically be classed as interfering with the flow of the living world but no-one said he can’t anonymously share some of his music here and there
Johann gets him a gig conducting for his orchestra every now and then. Kravitz is fucking ecstatic and finally gets to conduct some of his own pieces in front of an audience. Maybe they actually get to that biography johann mentioned at some point. Idk I haven’t thought about that part too much
Okay I wrote WAY more than I meant to here but I hope at least some of it was interesting and feel free to ask me questions if there are elements I’ve missed off of here that you want to hear more about! (Bearing in mind some of the answers may be “actual post canon content coming soon/later” lol.) As you can tell I have a lot of things to say about this fic & I’m always more than happy to hear that people are interested!! o:
112 notes · View notes
Text
Documentary Final Relefcetion:
Exporting:
After I had finished the audio edit, it was then in Alexander's hands to complete the final edit. I must say that it was a big undertaking for Alexander to do all the editing. Under normal circumstance as a group, we would have all had a more active role with the editing, but covid it made editing across several different computers extremely difficult. Alexander had many difficulties with After Effect and wasn't able to create the film titles, so we had to stick with just text on the screen, and some of the pans and zooms of archive footage weren't able to be smoothed out either. Also, having issues with the AFF previously, getting the picture lock into Divinci proved difficult, but Alexander spoke to the technician Alex, and he helped him out. Once the edit was complete, Alexander exported the project and uploaded it to Vimeo, ready for the Crit.
Thoughts on the Final Edit:
Going into the Crit, I felt like the documentary wasn't where it needed to be. There are definitely elements that could be improved, such as replicating how it feels to have the imposter syndrome giving the emotional aspect of the castle story more punch. Thus, making the ending of the film seem more valid. It was hard for us to create additional elements apart from the interview, adding extra layers to the documentary, because we were all separated. We all tried our best to think of ways to make the documentary visually interesting; I created a story inspo document full of suggestions for shot composition for the recreation and other elements for the documentary.
Emily lived with Heather, so all the filming was in her hands; if we had been under normal circumstances, we could have all meet up and be more coordinated about how to shoot the recreations. Also, Heather was resistant to the idea of doing recreations and invading her personal space. Heather wasn't comfortable in front of the camera and very busy when the recreations were shot, so they ended up being very rushed, and they didn't achieve what we wanted them to. Because we had to be so ruthless when constructing the arc for the documentary, it meant that visuals included a lot of jump cuts. We were constantly cutting from the beginning of the interview to the end, taking clips from the middle of the interview, splicing them the clips from the end, etc. In the rough edit, the jump cuts were extremely noticeable, and Alexander it a great job to hide them as much as possible, but in some cases, it was just unavoidable. To hide the cuts, we had to use archive images that were clunky and not ideal; I think we relied too much on of the quality of the recreations, and if we were more organised and not in lockdown, we could have made a more polished documentary.
The Crit:
The Crit was really enjoyable; it was great to see everyone's documentaries. And peoples feedback was helpful too.
Tone:
One of the biggest criticisms in the Crit was the tone of the documentary. People enjoyed the laid back nature of the interview and enjoyed being in the presence of Emily and Heather. However, they noted that there wasn't enough of an emotional through-line to validate the ending. These are all valid remarks. When editing the documentary, one of the things we struggled with the most was the tone. Because the interview was laid back and jovial, even when Heather would talk about difficult experiences she had with the imposter syndrome, they had a humorous undertone. Therefore, we struggled to find that emotional structure without forcing it or making it feel artificial.
Music:
This relates to the last piece of feedback; people commented that the music we used didn't feel appropriate. Cameron commented that the music made it feel less like a documentary and more like an online chat show. Our decision with the music was to continue the tone set by the opening sequence because we felt that it wouldn't make sense to have an upbeat and quirky opening title sequence and then betray the style we set up and turn it into something dramatic. I understand that the documentary would have benefited from a more serious tone in places, but as stated previously, we struggled with the tone of the project.
Credits:
Additionally, it was highlighted that the documentary didn't include end credits. In previous modules, if the film doesn't meet the run time set by the lecturer, then we are penalised for it, for example, if the documentary is longer or shorter than eight minutes. Therefore, to prevent the documentary from exceeding eight minutes, we decided not to include credits.
This documentary module has taught me a lot, and I know now, in the future, how to improve for next time.
0 notes