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#that was less than 7 years ago!!!!! look at how far we’ve come in such a short time!!!!!
ronwestbreeze · 7 months
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you’re gonna go far | 1
pairing: jake sully x neytiri x tsu'tey x fem!human!reader summary: a scientist arrives on pandora (unwillingly) a year after the exile of the rda. now she must deal with the likes of a clan leader, a great warrior, and a thanator rider. . . word count: 7.k
read on AO3
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15 October 2146
Dear Joan Reeds,
Hi Mom.
I know we’ve been sending video diaries to each other since you went to Pandora a year ago and this might be a little strange, but I thought writing this to you would be a lot less impersonal than sending a video. I don’t know, watching myself emote on camera has always made me uncomfortable—so when I respond to your video diaries, know that I’m actually excited to see them and not incredibly bored as I appear.
If that’s why you’ve stopped sending videos, because you think I’m bored of them, I promise you I’m not. And I miss your videos…
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Year 2150
“—Unfortunately, your mother, along with the rest of the twelve other scientists had died before we were able to get them into quarantine.” One out of the three in military uniforms said.
You don’t quite remember how you got here.
Last you checked, your mother, Joan, was leaving for a huge project located on a discovered moon in the Alpha Centauri System. Pandora. An inhabited planet that the human population hoped to relocate. To find a newer home. Instead of the dying planet they created.
Joan had been accepted into the Avatar Program, a branch of the big project that had less to do with taking and more so giving. She, an esteemed scientist herself, would get to work with others like her. To explore a planet you only saw in dreams.
Dreams that would remain that way for a while.
You were only an apprentice at the time, ten years before 2150. Therefore, unqualified to accompany your mother on this new adventure. All you could do was be happy for her, even if she would be gone for a long, long time. But it was hard to be angry at that fact, remembering vividly how your mother looked before she left.
Identical eyes staring lovingly and worriedly back at you. Manic worry if anything.
“I want you to watch over the forest while I’m gone.” Joan laughed at your stunned expression. “You’ve been studying under me for years now, don’t be so shocked! You’ve followed me like a loyal shadow. My little shadow. You are the Head of the Amazon Division now. I trust you’ll continue my work.”
“Mom—I—are you sure?” A younger version of you asked. Ten years earlier you. “What if—how do you know? That I’m even ready? Surely there are more qualified scientists—”
Joan grinned, another identical trait you shared with her. “You have as much love for the Earth as I do. You have this determination, unlike any, to save it. To save what is left of this dying world, our home. Some might find it naïve. Others might discover a whole new planet to live on.” You smiled as she chuckled at that. “Yes, you will work with my second-in-command, he will show you the ropes—not like you already don’t know it—but he will be by your side until you are old enough to officially take over. But I have no doubt you can do it. And I need you to believe it too.”
There was a certain glow in your eye that matched your alight and determined face. This childlike wonder. This unyielding ball of hope that was you.
You nodded surely, holding her hand tightly, “I’ll do it. I’ll keep it safe for you.”
“Promise?”
You pressed your lips into a line, “Do you wanna pinky swear on it?”
Joan gasped, her face lighting up instantly. “I thought you’d never ask!”
Rolling your eyes at her excitement, you locked your pinky with hers. Tight and sure.
“I haven’t done this with you since I was five.”
“You’re never too old to make a promise!”
Joan then pulled you into a tight hug. Small drops of wetness fell onto your shoulder.
Neither of you said anything for a while.
She finally pulled away and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll come back for you. My little shadow.” That was her promise.
Then she walked out of the door. And all you could do was smile for her. You couldn’t even be sad.
The woman in uniform spoke up next. “Dr. Reeds? I know this is difficult information to process—"
You still didn’t remember how you got here.
Last you checked, Joan had been on Pandora for nearly five years now.
During those years, you managed to keep your promise in the beginning.
There were more trees planted, the water was becoming cleaner as the days rolled by, and you managed to gain some military protection for the forest—along with more researchers joining the cause.
During the first year of her in Pandora, your mother would send you video diaries of her time on Pandora, which prompted you to send videos back in reply. Showing your progress so far and everything you have accomplished.
One time she sent a video of her crying dramatically while holding up a picture of you as a toddler.
“Look what I found in my suitcase—sniffles—you were so small and cute back then—sniffles—guys look how cute my baby is!”
You remembered cringing and smacking your head against the table. Some of your colleagues also enjoyed a chuckle or two.
Tell me about the creatures and the plants. Take me on one of your treks through the forest in your avatar body. I enjoyed those videos the most. I always looked forward to them, even if you think I thought it was boring or too much of a lecture. I promise you it wasn’t.
I wasn’t mad about the baby picture by the way. Yes, maybe embarrassed—I was fourteen, Mom—but it’s nice that you took something with you to remember me by.
Also don’t worry about the forest, everything’s fine here. I saw all your emails asking about it. And I don’t want you to worry too much, not so much that it would ruin your experience up there. I have everything under control, Mom…
Sometimes the videos had nothing to do with talking. Joan one time sent a video of her sleepily talking to you about anything until she eventually fell asleep. The rest of the video would be of her sleeping.
You told her she didn’t have to send videos when she should be resting.
“I just want to see you, honey.” She would respond back. “Plus, talking to you is always a perfect end to my day.”
So you didn’t complain. Talking to her, seeing a new video arrive in your inbox always made your worst days just a bit brighter.
After the first year, Joan stopped sending videos. You didn’t think anything of it at first. All you assumed was that she was buried in her work. Which meant that whatever she was doing, must’ve been important. Life-changing even. And you weren’t going to interrupt that.
One year turned into two.
Two turned into three.
Four.
Four years of radio silence.
Scarily, you allowed yourself to wonder if she forgot about you.
And before you knew it, that thought abruptly left your mind in place of another.
The forest was on fire.
You remember rushing around the lab, grabbing every research hard drive, journal—anything important and belonging to your mother’s long hardworking years of work before it could be destroyed by the fire.
But. But none of it mattered.
The forest burned to the ground. Everything your mother worked for. Gone.
Gone. Gone. Gone.
“Dr. Reeds?”
Your hands were covered in ash and blisters.
She was dead. Her forest burned down a day ago.
Now the three in uniform stood with you in what was left of the forest. The grey daylight haunting in the smoke.
The mask you wore protected your facial expressions. “When did she…?”
One of the men cleared his throat. Two men and one woman. “Four years ago. A few months after she first arrived on the planet. Their lab was compromised with a deadly toxin—”
“You said that already.” You pointed out impassively.
The male nodded, “Right—We were sent straight after, unfortunately, the journey from Pandora to Earth takes…”
You turned away from them. You wanted to throw up. You want to scream and call them liars.
But you were older now. Emotions controlled. Face restrained.
There was a certain dullness in your eyes that matched your worn and solemn face. This beaten and bruised resolve. This unyielding wave of resentment that was you.
Your mother had been dead for four years.
Without you knowing about it until now.
Everything you had thought. Had assumed. It meant nothing.
You thought she had abandoned you. You thought you were alone.
Turns out she was already gone.
And you were still alone.
Blinking away ash—tears maybe, you couldn’t tell—and looked back at the three in uniform. “Alright. You told me. Thank you for coming.”
With that, you begin to walk away and continue cleaning the spot you’d been working on before the uniforms had approached. Dumping the burnt bark and ash of what used to be trees into a plastic bag.
“There’s one other thing, Dr. Reeds.” The woman spoke next. You tried not to scowl in irritation and reluctantly turned back to them. “Before your mother passed, she asked that you take her place.”
Your heart lurched and your body grew stiff.
“The late Dr. Reeds had made a lot of progress on some research that could’ve been beneficial for our organization and project.” The woman tucked her hands behind her back, back straight as she continued in a matter-of-fact tone. “We need someone like you who can continue the work without fail and who knows Dr. Reeds…particular work ethic.” You frowned at the wording. The woman—she seemed to be leading this small crusade. “We have an avatar waiting for you. All you need to do is come with us to Pandora.”
And there it was. Anyone would’ve seen this as a second chance. Another opportunity to fix your mother’s legacy. To keep your promise.
But all you saw was something else you could screw up. Something else for you to destroy by fire. Another way to fail her. The forest was gone. You had killed the forest. Now they wanted you to take your mother’s place—possibly to work on something shady that they have full control over. When was it enough?
When would people stop expecting you to be Joan Reeds? When would they see that you were nothing like her? That you weren’t their savior, that you weren’t someone to turn to whenever the original goal didn’t work? You were nothing. Everything you touched ended up destroyed. So why?
Why would your mother want you to take over her perfectly structured sculpture? When all you were was the hammer that shattered it down to pieces.
You tightened your jaw, “I’m good here. Again, thank you for coming.”
Once more, you tried walking away.
“Unfortunately, Dr. Reeds, it is not a request.” Now you were scowling at the woman, not bothering to hide the expression this time. “We’re in dire need of your mother’s expertise. She can identify resources that the RDA has collected—better than anyone. And we could use these sources to put those…our enemies in place. Heal poisons we have little information about. Your mother—”
“My mother, it seems, had no idea what she was getting into when she accepted that job for the Avatar Program.” You sized all three of them up with a quick resolve. “You’re RDA, correct? Hmm, my mother may not have seen it but I do. I see right through you all.” With that, you raised your chin and steeled your back. “So, for the last time. Thank you for coming. Now if you’ll excuse me, I just learned my own mother’s fucking dead. I’d like to take the time to grieve if you don’t mind.”
As you turned to leave again, your mind wandered. Your eyes stared bleakly at what used to be a beautiful forest. It used to be so life-like. So, so beautiful.
Your mother was gone. And so was her forest.
Maybe you should’ve seen it as a sign.
Mother dead. Forest gone.
And where were your tears?
You stopped walking suddenly when something sharp hit the back of your neck.
Instantly, without warning, your body crumbled to the ground with a thud.
Breathing was difficult. Your body couldn’t move. Black shoes filled your vision.
“Apologies, Doc. But I did say it wasn’t a request.”
Slipping from your control, everything went dark.
If you must know, your forest is making amazing progress. We planted exactly thirty more trees in the past two months and they’ve grown healthily! I’ll send you pictures of them once I’ve sent this letter.
But as I said before, there’s nothing for you to worry about here. If I wanted your help, I would’ve asked and you know this. You should be focusing on making life-changing discoveries on Pandora. Also, have you met Dr. Grace Augustine yet? I’ve just finished her book and I have many questions! Can you, possibly, maybe relay my questions to Dr. Augustine? If you’re not busy of course…
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Year 2155
It had been a good day for Jake Sully.
A long and grueling hunt had ended with many other warriors succeeding in their finds, just enough to feed their families, enough to feed the entire clan.
His pride only swelled more when his mate and the current Olo’eyktan grinned proudly at him as they started their way back home.
“You’ve gotten better, ma’tiyawn.” Tsu’tey had said with a smirk.
Jake’s heart warmed, “Well, I had an amazing teacher.” Tsu’tey looked even more smug then until Jake added. “Tell Neytiri I said thanks.”
A huff left his mate's mouth and Jake laughed at his reaction. “Tell her yourself, skxawng!”
When they both returned to their new home—a new location after the Hometree was destroyed last year—it wasn’t long before their third mate, Neytiri made her way back from a hunt as well. And Jake was right. She had to be one of the best hunters of the clan as she came carrying back a rather large sturmbeest at her tail. Large enough for tonight’s celebration. She yipped loudly, raising her bow up in a cheer as she returned to the clan.
Jake and Tsu’tey couldn’t take their eyes off their mate.
Once she managed to get to them, Tsu’tey was the first to meet her in a warm and tight hug—careful to watch for the baby carrier strapped to her chest.
“And how was our boy’s first hunt?” Tsu’tey smiled down at the one-month-old child, their firstborn, Neteyam, who smiled at the sight of his papa. His smaller hands grabbed onto one of Tsu’tey’s fingers.
“He will make a great hunter.” Neytiri smiled down at him, grabbing Tsu’tey’s other hand. “And you? Did you find anything?”
Jake chuckled, looking back at the sturmbeest a few warriors carried by. “Not as good as you, babe. Let’s just say if we had made it a bet, you would’ve won easily.”
“What’s a bet?” Tsu’tey questioned, with a furrow in his brow.
“I’ll tell you later.”
When they made it back to their hut—Jake did a quick look around to find that it was empty. Sending a silent prayer to Eywa, which he found himself doing a lot more recently, he was relieved to find that Tsu’tey’s mother was nowhere in sight.
Artsut, who had been a frequent visitor to their home ever since Neteyam was born. Before then she had steered clear of their hut—not wanting to go anywhere near Jake. He was a demon, a false body, the stain on their clan. Jake was fine with her being away from the hut—that was when he could tolerate her the most.
But after Neteyam was born, after the perfect Na’vi baby had come out of Neytiri, Artsut came around more to care for her grandson. Which meant Jake had to deal with more of her comments and sneers—and he would. For his son.
Forcing Artsut to not see her grandson would’ve been too cruel—not just for his son but for Tsu’tey as well. Tsu’tey—who wanted to keep the peace between his mates and his mother. Tsu’tey, the only male in his family who is able to stand up to her and not take any of her shit.
So, Jake wasn’t worried for the most part. Artsut would play nice for Tsu’tey—her favorite son. Omatikaya’s rightful Olo’eyktan. And Jake would ignore her presence. A fair compromise.
Fortunately, he didn’t have to worry about seeing her now. Otherwise, his very good mood would be ruined.
“I went to see my mother today,” Neytiri said as she took Neteyam out of the carrier and gave him to Tsu’tey who was standing right next to her.
“For more training or something else?” Jake questioned, analyzing her body in a quick scan for any injuries he might’ve missed. “Are you okay?”
She smiled softly and pressed her hand to her stomach, “She told me that Eywa has blessed us with another child.”
Tsu’tey’s eyes widened and Jake’s mouth hung open. Neteyam watched them all quietly.
Neytiri looked down shyly, her ears fluttering, “I wanted to tell you at the celebration for a surprise but I couldn’t wait so—”
She didn’t get to finish as Tsu’tey launched himself at her, wrapping her in a tight hug, earning a joyous laugh from her. A large smile Jake hadn’t seen for a minute. Not since they first discovered Neteyam was coming.
Jake rushed over after placing his hunting equipment down, “You’re pregnant?” Neytiri nodded as Tsu’tey pulled away with a smile of his own. A grin broke out on his face as he pulled her in for a loving kiss, “Oh baby, I love you so much.”
All three of them joined together then—including Neteyam who giggled at their smiles. Sharing kisses, long hugs, and large smiles that they couldn’t contain.
Happiness was simple. That was what Jake believed.
He never thought he could achieve something like that. Not on Earth. Hell, no even on Pandora. Not after everything—but he worked hard for it. He kept going, wanting to prove to himself and his mates that he belonged there. That he was one of the People. That he would be a good mate. A good father.
And not something that destroys everything by a single touch.
Happiness was as simple as it was rare.
Whenever it came, Jake grasped onto it as tightly as he could. Because he never knew when he’d ever have it again.
He held on tight when Tsu’tey survived the battle against the Sky People. Nurtured it when Tsu’tey soon joined him and Neytiri in their union as mates. Loved it when Neteyam was born with his eyes and Neytiri’s markings.
But even then, even if he had a well-adjusted life a year into being on Pandora, Jake still had a long way to go. A long path to make up for all the strife he had caused.
For now, he would enjoy this night. He would enjoy being with his mates. He would enjoy this joyous celebration of the sturmbeest and the new life that would be here in nine months’ time.
It had been a good day for Jake Sully.
That night, Neytiri laid between Tsu’tey and him. That night he watched Tsu’tey’s body carefully as he usually did during the other nights. That night he couldn’t shake the warmth in his chest.
Happiness is simple.
At some point, Jake turned onto his back. His eyes trailing up to the sky. Stars. There were always stars here. And every night, Jake counted them until he fell asleep. Every night he had one arm around Neytiri. Every night he reached his hand out just enough until his fingers brushed against Tsu’tey’s bicep. Every night he would be the last out of the three of them—or four if he counted the heavy sleeper that was his son—to fall asleep.
Only this time there was a moving star in the sky. For a moment, Jake thought he was dreaming.
But the star kept moving. Closer and closer toward Pandora. Until Jake knew that it wasn’t a star anymore.
A body shifted, Jake instantly got up and placed gentle hands on Tsu’tey’s shaking body, trying his best to calm his mate down from the nightmares. Not knowing what he would do if he had to tell him—to tell Neytiri—that they were about to wake up in one.
It had been a good day.
Until it wasn’t.
Do you think I’ll like Pandora? I still dream about it. Being there with you. Do you still want me to come one day?
You woke up on a ship.
“Hold her down boys.”
At the moment, you hadn’t realized your body jerked roughly or that you were now being held down in your seat by a bunch of hands, far stronger and firmer than you. Never mind the tight seatbelt across your lap, no, they wanted to make sure you couldn’t escape.
So, you screamed. A horror-filled cry that sucked in all sound in the ship. Leaving the rest of the passengers with nothing but silence and your scream.
“Calm down, Doc.” The woman sat across from you spoke. The very same woman that approached you in your mother’s forest. “We wouldn’t want you harming yourself before we even get to the planet.”
With as much strength as you could muster, you tried pulling away from the two men sitting on either side of you, whose grips were practically steel. “What did you do?! Where the hell am I?!”
“I already told you five years ago, it wasn’t a request.”
You didn’t need to ask what she meant by five years. Your mother had told you about the process that got her to Pandora in one of her video diaries. You didn’t have to figure it out in your hazy state without getting pissed.
“You stole five years off me! What the fuck is wrong with you people!?” You seethed.
The woman looked unconcerned toward your outburst. “Your mother’s work is too important to give up, Doc. She and her group of scientists were close to probably giving us the one edge we needed against the Na’vi. The inhabitants of Pandora. With your mother gone along with the rest of her group, we were desperate for a replacement. Which is why we needed you. Which is why we wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
“Why the hell would I help you?!” You snapped, still fighting against the two male’s hold on you. “Get off me!”
“Boys.” The woman gestured for them to let go. After a pause, the hands were gone from your arms. And that was when you began to notice your surroundings.
Yes, you were on some type of ship with a few other soldiers. All of you strapped down to seats. And instead of your ash-covered clothes, you were now in a simple grey tank top, borrowed camouflage pants, and black combat shoes.
Slight groans and whines along the walls told you that the ship was still flying.
So you couldn’t escape even if you wanted to. You had been practically kidnapped by the military—the RDA.
And you were trapped.
That is, until you reach Pandora.
“Now if you’re done throwing a fit,” The woman brought out a tablet and held it toward you. “I’m Captain DeVoe, by the way. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Doc.”
You didn’t take the tablet.
Captain DeVoe sighed before pulling the tablet away and began typing on the screen. “Your mother had been close to finding a way to create an antidote for the neurotoxin those savages use on the tip of their arrows. It’s dangerous for us humans. And our goal is to get this small obstacle out of the way in order to proceed with our mission.”
You let out a short laugh, your body still tense and trapped. “Like I said. Why the hell would I help you? What my mother does has nothing to do with me.”
“Oh, but it does, honey,” DeVoe smirked while you scowled. The captain had to have been in her mid to late twenties. Her hair was cut short into a blonde buzzcut. Toned muscles underneath her long-sleeved shirt. She looked like she could break you in two without even breaking a sweat. So there was no point in trying to fight her. At least not in this confined space.
She held out the tablet to you. And again, you didn’t reach for it. Instead, you pressed your back against the wall behind you. DeVoe didn’t lower the tablet. From your spot, you could see on the screen a light blue rectangle and a digital lock above it.
“She’s kept everything we need behind a lock. Her last words were for you to unlock it and finish her work.”
You raised a brow and crossed your arms, “Those were her last words?” Another brittle laugh left your lips. “Wow, you all must be very desperate.” You continued to laugh, unafraid of the glare the captain sent you. “Fuck you. Fuck everyone on the ship and fuck the RDA! I haven’t even gotten to see her body yet—did you even bury her? Or did you toss her aside when you didn’t find any use for her anymore?”
DeVoe blinked and frowned. She then sighed, “I am sorry for your loss, Dr. Reeds. Really, I am. And I know emotions are quite high right now—”
“Fuck you.” You snorted humorlessly before leaning back against the wall again. The two men on either side of you shifted. You ignored them.
“Yes, you’ve said that already.” DeVoe tucked the tablet down next to her right thigh. You glanced at it briefly before directing your scowl back to the woman.
A speaker suddenly came to life above all of you. “We’ve entered the atmosphere. Landing in twenty.”
You sat up straighter as everyone suddenly began placing what looked like advanced oxygen masks on their faces.
Through all your righteous anger, you hadn’t truly realized it until right then. You were on Pandora. You were going to land in the place of your dreams.
And you refused to be happy about it.
DeVoe handed you a mask as she grabbed bags from under her seat. “Quaritch was always good at being persuasive. He’ll convince you. He always—"
A loud boom rattled your ears.
The ship suddenly flipped—if not for the seatbelts, you would’ve flipped too—and then it felt as if you were falling.
Falling.
Falling.
Falling.
Falling.
You put on the mask in hopes of helping bring the air back into your lungs.
Falling.
Falling.
Thud!
Do you remember your second-in-command? JJ? Well, he retired recently. We threw him a really big party. Plus, he just had a baby too. I think it’s a girl last I checked, I’m going to have to ask Cheryl about that—you know her. Always being in the know with her coworkers…
There was no light. Heat closed in all around you, suffocating you and fogging your mask—or was that your quick breaths? No, that was the smoke.
Your ears rang terribly. People were moving but you couldn’t see who. Someone suddenly grabbed your arm, cut the seatbelt from your lap, and practically hauled your body from the seats and through the smoke.
You weren’t walking. A striking pain in your thigh prevented you from doing so.
Suddenly there was light. Lots of it. Your vision was somewhat clear enough to see that you were now outside. Enough for you to see that the one dragging you was a feral-looking DeVoe.
“Shoot them all down now!” She screamed. There was a long gash along her toned arm. “Contact base! We need backup ASAP!”
Finally, you realized what was happening.
There was fire—why was there always fire?
The large, winged creatures flew above the damage with people riding them. There were yips and hollers from the people on the creatures mixed with the explosions and shouts from DeVoe.
As your senses began coming back, as the world began to set around you, your instincts finally kicked in.
While DeVoe was distracted giving orders, you searched the ground until your eyes landed on a nearby rock. Quickly, you lunged for it, grasped it, and smacked it in the back of her head without wasting another second.
And the impact was hard too. You were sure you heard a loud crack from it.
When DeVoe ducked and stumbled, her grip on you loosened, giving you the chance to run. Or rather, limp through the wreckage and away from the fight happening around you.
But because of your leg, you didn’t make it too far.
A sudden weight knocked you down, a cry leaving your lips as you hit the ground. Wincing in pain from the burning in your left leg. When you tried getting up, the weight kept you pinned down. Whatever landed on top of you made sure you wouldn’t be able to move.
“I already told you!” Roughly, you were turned onto your back. DeVoe was on top of you, snarling. “You have no choice! Not when it comes to saving your race!”
“Get off me!” You cried out, trying to push her off. But DeVoe remained as firm as iron.
“That was a cute little stun you pulled back there. But make sure to remember this.” Instantly, she yanked your mask off.
Your eyes were wide and a loud gasp left your lips,
DeVoe grinned, a mad glint in her eye. “Your life is in my hands! That means I protect it or take it just like that! Don’t be stupid, Doc. Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be. Pick! I protect you or you die!”
You held your breath. More booms sounded around you. More winged creatures flew above you. More yips. More hollers.
Briefly, you glanced at the mask in her hand and considered everything leading up to now. Because you didn’t have much of a choice.
None but one.
Finally, you stopped fighting. Your limbs fell loose against her.
DeVoe nodded with a smirk, “Good choice.” She gave you back your mask and stood up. You kept holding your breath. “Back up should be here soon. We’ll have enough numbers to take down these savages—”
She abruptly cut herself off when you slammed the mask down on your good knee, shattering it.
You then started breathing in the air.
“What are you doing?!” DeVoe screeched, grabbing you by the front of your shirt.
You grinned now, struggling to breathe, “You need me. I don’t need you.”
To them, you were valuable. DeVoe knew this. Which was why you knew she wouldn’t go through with killing you herself. It was like they said on the ship. You were too valuable. And they were desperate.
And that value would be lost once you’re dead.
“Damn you brat!” DeVoe growled as she took off her mask. “Selfish bitch—”
Blood splattered across your face when an arrow found its way through DeVoe’s head.
She slumped against you, the mask falling from her hand and skittering onto the ground a few feet away from you.
Your mind had not realized that DeVoe was killed. Was dead now. All you cared about now was grabbing the mask.
So once you got the dead weight off of you, you began crawling toward the mask. Your breathing becoming a struggle with every passing second.
You hadn’t realized—just like with DeVoe—that someone was watching you. Curiously and quietly following you as you crawled. You didn’t realize you weren’t alone until blue feet appeared in your line of vision. Until four fingers took the mask off the ground and away from your grasp.
A whimper left your lips through hollow breaths as you looked up to find a tall, blue alien woman standing over you. With guarded, yet silently curious yellow eyes.
A Na’vi. You had seen them in your mother’s videos. You had seen her avatar.
“Mom.” You rasped, lying on your back. You didn’t know how much time you had. Might as well stick to the original plan then.
Become invaluable.
But Mom…
“I-I just want my Mom.”
The Na’vi woman just stared at you. Her fierce gaze turned into something somewhat contemplative. You weren’t even sure if she understood you.
Black spots covered your vision.
There was barely any oxygen left to grasp for.
“Demon.”
The Na’vi woman hissed just as you lost consciousness.
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This had to be the second time you’ve woken up from passing out.
Only instead of a ship greeting you, it was a white ceiling. And somehow instead of lying dead in the ship wreckage, you were instead lying on a cot. With a bandage wrapped around your injured thigh.
It was slow—slower than before—but everything came back to you. You were on Pandora. DeVoe was dead. At least that’s what you remembered happening. The arrow through her head certainly wasn’t a hallucination.
But why weren’t you dead?
For a while, you just say on the cot. Trying to figure out what exactly happened.
The Na’vi woman. Did she…Did she give you the mask?
No. She’d have no reason to. Something must’ve happened while you were passed out.
You were in some type of cell—perfect—no bars but no doubt some type of impenetrable glass in front of you.
A groan left your lips, dropping your head into your hands.
How the hell did it get so much worse?
A door opened further away from your cell. A thin-looking man stepped through it. A human man.
You watched him carefully and silently. The human male nodded to you. “You must be Dr. Reeds.”
Instantly, you tensed and the words tumbled out of your mouth, “I already told DeVoe I’m not helping the RDA. So torture me all you want but you’re not getting shit from me.”
He raised his brows both curiously and observantly. “The RDA hasn’t been allowed back on Pandora for a year now. Not after the war.”
War? You carefully stood from your cot, “Then why am I here?”
“Because you were on an RDA ship—” You move to protest, “Before you say anything or curse me, I already know about Joan Reeds and your supposed arrival. But unfortunately, you arrived at a pretty bad time. The People are skittish. They think it’s best to keep you here for now—”
“What the fuck?!” You screamed. The resolve was broken. There was no composing anything anymore. Your face was heated. Your muscles ached. Your throat hurting. “I didn’t even want to come here! Those fuckers kidnapped me and now I have to be imprisoned in a cell because of them?! I’m not RDA! I have nothing to do with this! All I want to do is see my mother who I couldn’t even bury!”
Toward the end of your rageful sentence, your voice quivered.
“Is she even buried yet?” You asked him, your voice now quieter.
After a pause, the male nodded. “She was buried. She…She was one of the few humans the Na’vi got along with. They gave her a burial years before. She—I’m sorry for your loss.
Everything was so—heavy. You were just exhausted.
You hadn’t even been able to grieve for her. Cry for her.
“I didn’t even know she was dead.” You sunk back down on the cot. “Not for four years. I didn’t she was dead for four fucking years. And now I’m here. On a planet I’ve been dreaming about since I was young. But now it’s just some fucked up nightmare.”
There was a long silence between the both of you. The male rubbed the back of his neck before saying cautiously, “Yeah, this isn’t ideal—um, I’m Norm, by the way. Norm Spellman. I work in the Avatar Program. I—well, I didn’t know or meet your mother personally but she was an amazing and intelligent scientist. Her work here and on Earth is very admirable.”
You almost scoffed at that but said nothing.
Norm moved to say more but stopped instantly, pressing a hand to his ear. For a beat, you watched him bleakly, as if he were listening to something.
He then turned to you, “Hold that thought.” And as soon as you blinked, he was gone out of the room.
For a moment, it was silent.
And then you cried.
And cried.
And cried.
And cried.
And cried.
Until your eyes offered no more tears left to give.
Do you remember your second-in-command? JJ? Well, he retired recently. We threw him a really big party. Plus, he just had a baby too. I think it’s a girl last I checked, I’m going to have to ask Cheryl about that—you know her. Always being in the know with her coworkers.
I had to clean up cow shit yesterday. And I’m definitely smiling when I tell you this. It’s progress but you probably get to see and interact with creatures we don’t even have here. So, at least you’re up there…
Norm came back a little later after that. He approached your cell, typing something against the wall. A second later, the glass came down.
You straightened.
“They want to talk to you.” He said.
“Who?” You frowned tiredly as you slowly got to your feet, wincing at your thigh.
Norm thought for a bit, “Some representatives of the clan nearby.”
Reluctantly, you followed Norm out of the cell. He led you through a hallway until you approached a door where Norm grabbed a mask for himself and you.
“They’re right out there.”
When you walked out the door, you were startled to find three winged creatures and tall—really tall—Na’vi waiting at the landing strip where you were sure ships would’ve been. But instead, it looked a bit abandoned.
“Dr. Reeds this is the chief of the Omatikaya Clan, Tsu’tey, that’s Neytiri, and the last one is the clan’s Toruk Makto, Jake Sully.”
You analyzed all three of them. The Na’vi woman—Neytiri—you recognized from the crash. The one that had been standing over you before you passed out. Long braids, warrior paint on her face—matching her body posture she instantly took as soon as you came out of the building, and a bow clutched in one hand with a fierce expression. She was sizing you up. Same as you did.
The next one—Tsu’tey—watched your movements carefully. Out of the three he looked like the one in charge, a leader, someone that of importance. His snarl was severe, even making Norm shift uncomfortably despite it not being directed at him. He gripped a spear tightly in his hands, his eyes following every slight movement you made. As if readying himself to take you down the moment you step out of line. Dangerous beast.
Then there was Jake Sully. If you hadn’t learned his name, you could instantly tell that he stood out somewhat among the three. Compared to Neytiri and Tsu’tey, Jake’s stance was different. More human-like. Like a Marine—which you had been around back on Earth. They were mostly the ones hired as military protection, so you were around them often. Jake was exactly that. But it didn’t make him any less fierce or severe.
Then of course there was the gun that he held—another huge thing that stood out among the three of them.
“And this is Dr. Reeds. She was supposed to replace the late Dr. Joan Reeds, a friend of Grace—”
“Why is she here now?” The leader, Tsu’tey interrupted with a scowl. “We need no more demons here.”
You chewed the inside of your cheek but didn’t say anything. Norm, fortunately, continued talking so you didn’t have to. “The timing’s off, I know, but it’s on record that she was supposed to arrive here upon Dr. Reeds' last request. And confirmed by Dr. Augustine herself. She’s only a scientist, that’s all. We even have an unused avatar waiting for her.”
Tsu’tey didn’t look convinced, not surprising. Neytiri’s eyes never wavered from you. Jake’s tail swished behind him, but his expression was unreadable.
Norm cleared his throat, “If Grace approved of it—”
“Where’s my mother buried?” You asked. All four eyes snapped to you. Norm gave you a look that you ignored. “Spellman told me she had a burial here. I just want to see her. That’s all.”
“And then what?” Jake questioned, eyes narrowed. His face was still guarded.
You didn’t care for it. “I don’t know. Maybe then I’ll go back to Earth and die with the rest of the planet. Does that suffice?”
Tsu’tey frowned, clearly not liking your response while Jake lowered the gun slightly. Neytiri slowly eased out of her defensive stance.
Norm chuckled nervously—attempting to save your sardonic response, “You hear that? She said she’ll leave.”
You breathed out a sigh. God, you were so tired. “I just want my Mom. Please, that’s all I ask.”
Another beat went by before Jake, spoke first but in another language. Tsu’tey didn’t look happy at whatever Jake was saying, his ears were pinned to the sides of his head. Neytiri, on the other hand, looked contemplative.
Eventually, Jake turned back to you with a stern frown, “We’ll have a few warriors take you to your mother’s burial.”
“And after you do not return.” Tsu’tey hissed, his violent eyes pinning you in place. If I see you on my grounds again, I will kill you, demon.”
Jake breathed out through his nose, closing his eyes. He then looked at you, “Understood?”
You huffed, “Loud and clear.”
You’re far away from this mess and I think that’s good. Not that there is a mess, I’m just saying metaphorically….You know what never mind. I hope you’re having fun, Mom.
Please respond. I miss your videos. And it’s getting pretty lonely down here.
I still want you to have fun so don’t put too much energy into trying to respond.
I’ll leave you now.
Love,
your little shadow.
PS.
Remember how you said I accomplish more stuff than you could ever imagine? I kind of get the feeling you were only saying that to make me feel better. It’s pretty clear by now that out of the two of us, you’re gonna go far. Farther than I can reach.
Okay, bye now.
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yes, another series! this time i'm going full force with the poly than i do with my other fics. and you guys have this beautiful fanart to thank! also i listened to you're gonna go far by noah kahan the whole time i wrote this chapter so it's probably obvious i was inspired by that song. anyway, i hope you guys enjoy this new mini series of mine for anyone that's still out there in the fandom lol. i hope you guys will give this a chance--and tell me your thoughts when you're done! i love hearing from y'all. full rants and everything!
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moody4world · 1 year
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All for you
A/N: birthday fic for my babyyy and apparently my first fluff for him too
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I’ve been with Urban for about two years now almost three and it’s one of the best things that’s happened to me. Of course at first I was skeptical about his true intentions when he slid in my dm about 7 years ago asking if I wanted to do a photoshoot with him and his friends claiming that it was for a school project. I was gonna ignore it but then he offered to pay me and listen, what broke 17 year old would turn down some quick money? The photoshoot actually ended up being a lot of fun and that’s how I became friends with all of them.
Urban and I kept in contact the most out of all the other friends in our circle and as we got older our feelings became less platonic. However, i’m pretty sure he always liked me that way. He won’t admit it but i’m sure he did. Today was Urby’s birthday so I made sure I had everything planned out for him. Throughout our friendship and relationship he’s been so amazing to me and always caters to my needs no matter the time, no matter the place. It only felt right to absolutely spoil him on his 25th birthday. What better way to start his special day than some birthday morning head followed by some breakfast in bed?
After getting ready for his little birthday outing with his friends it was time for him to go. “Baby are you sure you can’t come with us?” I may or may not have lied about having an important work meeting to attend but in reality i took the day off so I could dedicate it to him. This whole day was my idea and this boy had no clue. “Yes i’m sure Urb you know how my boss gets” His plump bottom lip immediately started to jut out trying to persuade me to change my mind. “Stop that, if i’m done early, i’ll see where you guys are and i’ll come meet up with y’all. Does that sound good?” I asked him. “Would be better if you could just come with me but i’ll take what I can get. Speaking of things I can get, imma need a kiss before I leave” and he did not have to ask twice.
As soon as Urban was out of the house I started cleaning up the whole house, got ready and went out to buy a fresh bouquet of flowers along with some groceries to prepare our special dinner, candles and fresh flower petals.
Right when I was adding the last details to the dinner table my phone started buzzing indicating that someone was calling me. Once I grabbed my phone to pick up I noticed it was Urban. “Hey birthday boy, enjoying your day so far?” “ Yeah i’m not gonna lie I am, i’m actually on my way home right now to wait for you” “Okay baby I think I accidentally left the door unlocked cause I was rushing so if you can hurry home before anything happens that’d be great” “On it, alright i’ll see you when you get there” “I love you” “I love you too baby”
I got dressed as fast as I could and headed back downstairs just in time to see Urban walk through the door. His face twisted from confusion to his big adorable smile when he stepped on something only to realize that it was a pathway full of rose petals leading him to the dining table decorated in more petals and beautiful plates and candles. He looks up at me in adoration as I welcome him into my arms. “Happy birthday once again baby” I say to him as he sways me side to side in his tight grip. He pulls away and I hand him a nice flower bouquet and I could’ve sworn he was holding back tears. “You did all of this for me?” “All for you, love of mine” I answered as I nodded proudly. “You even got the jazz music going in the background I see you” “Only the best for my man, now let’s eat” “You don’t gotta tell me twice”
Once we were done eating we just sat and talked about his day and other things under the sun with my hand in his. “You’re so amazing you know that?” “You tell me often but your face is red as fuck right now you know that?” We both couldn’t help but laugh at his bashfulness. 7 years of knowing each other and we’ve been dating for 2 of those years yet we still had each other giggling and swinging our feet. “When the guys caught me stalking your instagram 7 years ago and dared me to dm you I did not expect us to end up here”
“So you DID have a crush on me since then!”
“I’m finally admitting the truth” He put his hands up defensively for a couple seconds only to hold your hands again right after.
“I got you one more gift” I bit my lips nervously not sure how he was going to react. Urban could feel my palm getting clammy in his. “You’re pregnant?” “I- what?! no” “Well damn it wouldn’t be that bad would it?” We couldn’t help but laugh at the turn the sentimental moment took. “No but seriously I really hope you like it…and….I hope you don’t get mad at me for getting you this gift” “Why would I get mad at a gift from you?” I only stared at him as I could see the gears in his brain starting to turn until an invisible light bulb went on. He seemed hesitant to say his guesses tho so it was only right I tell him what it is. I walk to the kitchen counter picking up a small gift box on top of it. Urban pulled his chair out from under the table beckoning me to come sit sideways on his lap and so I do.
With his arm around my waist and the other hand resting on my thighs I hand him the small box. “There’s no way this is what I think it is” He looked genuinely shocked without even opening it yet. “Well there’s only one way to find out” I shrugged. He opens the box and sees a familiar set of keys that he’s engraved in his memory for at least three years now. “No way” his jaw seemed to have lost its comprehension of remaining closed as he looked up at me in a way to confirm that his thoughts on what these keys are were true. All I could do was laugh at his reactions as I nodded to give him the confirmation he needed. “Yeah I got you the studio you wanted, no more paying other places to develop all those photos you be taking” Before I could say anything else I was pulled into a rib crushing hug and a chorus of “thank you’s” and “I love you’s” “I can’t believe you did this for me” He gave me a heated kiss that described all his emotions that words couldn’t. With our foreheads on each other’s I kissed his nose and say “All for you, love of mine”
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urbanwyatt
Louisville, Kentucky
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Liked by jackharlow and 8.333 others
urbanwyatt if we locked in, ain’t no switchin up. one of my best birthdays yet thanks to this one, almost got down on one knee when @yngotit pulled out that bouquet 😮‍💨
happy birthday to our baee
@harlowsbby
@heavyhitterheaux
@softtcurse
@nattinatalia
@neon-lights-and-glitter
@urbussy
and every other urban girly reading this🫶🏾
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bennydwight · 1 year
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TGAMM Observations, Theories, Headcanons Pre Season 2
Long post!
1.      Scratch never tells Molly his name in episode one (there’s a theory on this that his name was divulged to her as part of the curse, since it also gave her the ability to summon him with his name)
2.      In ‘The (Un)natural’, Bartholomew can be seen writing in a cutaway scene, a diary entry saying “Dear diary, I had the strangest dream last night”
3.      In the same cutaway scene, we can see the McGees moved into the house June 2
4.      Other entries in Scratch’s scare report read:
·        06/01 Pizza Steve (I get him every time!)
·        06/08 Kid with Umbrella (Transformed into umbrella. Classic Rainy Day scare)
·        06/15 Wilderscouts (Used Howlin’ Harriet story to scare campers)
5.      In the beginning of Howlin’ Harriet, there’s a brief moment where Scratch puts his hand to his chin, deep in thought. Geoff notices and, a beat later, copies the position
6.      Weird amount of Canada references. Cousin Carl from Canada, Cousin Milly from Canada, in The Lucky Penny there’s a crashed car with a Canadian sticker on the window. When Molly is looking up a Bat Mitzvah there’s a recommended video about ghost hauntings in Toronto (it has four views and was posted eight years ago). The very last moving box in Out of House And Home has a shipping sticker that says Toronto. I’d be tempted to say that’s the last place the McGees moved from if not for Molly knowing nothing of Canada. The syrup bottle in Citizen McGee has a maple leaf on it. I’d be offended at the stereotypes if I weren’t so jazzed for the representation
7.      Despite claiming to be touch adverse, Scratch can be seen instigating physical contact even as soon as First Day Frights, where he puts his arm around Molly and pokes her nose. The touching gets more affectionate as the season goes on, but even at the end of Friend-Off (where he’s arguably ‘known’ Libby less than two days and has been fighting with her for most of that time) he initiates and seems comfortable with friendly contact
8.      Scratch first admits he may be ‘McGee adjacent’ in The Greatest Concert Ever, but (as far as I know) there isn’t a solid moment where he embraces the McGee name fully. It just kinda pops up later on
9.      Scratch is already calling Nin ‘Grandma Nin’ by the end of The Curse (which isn’t groundbreaking, I just think it’s a cute detail that he already calls her grandma)
10.   In The Best Of Nin-tentions he also calls Sharon ‘mom’, but I’m not sure whether that’s because he just does now, or because he was using Molly’s words
11.   The gravestones in Andrea’s film set in Hooray for Mollywood read ‘Howlin’ Harriet’, ‘Howlin’ Harriet’s Toes’, and ‘SK’. I wonder if the last one might be Scratch’s, but that’s just a theory seeing as how we don’t know his surname
12.   Scratch was alive sometime before the invention of the internet (a safe assumption) and after the invention of colour tv. Possibly died in the 70s-80s era?
13.   If the Ghost World doesn’t get anything until after it’s dead, how come they have mochas? Or clubs? Also Scratch is shown with a smartphone at least once in Scarin’ is Carin’
14.   Scratch may also have some variation of size-manipulation power, seeing as there’s a functional pizza box with a to-scale pizza laying around his dollhouse. Maybe it’s just a way he creatively uses curses idk
15.   The. The medical bill in Out Of House And Home guys. It’s just. Look at it. Friggin. Z Ray (x2). Minus $0.49 for insurance. The epitome of America’s medical system. Would be funny if it weren’t so true
16.   Also, hard to see the date on there, but I think it’s 05/14/21 if you’re looking for a timeline. Seeing as we’ve had a Christmas episode, this would probably mean the McGees moved in June 2, 2020
17.   Historically, the larger Scratch gets, the less stable his form is. Might just be for scary effect, but might also be a mass-displacement or concentration thing
18.   But he has no trouble maintaining consistency when he shrinks, so maybe all ghosts just have a maximum comfortable size
19.   Some aspects of transformation appear to be instinctive and subconscious, linked to a ghost’s moods, instead of all shape changes being intentional (most clearly seen in The (Un)natural)
20.   The repossession notice in Out Of House And Home is in Sharon’s name, and I admittedly don’t know a lot about mortgages, but does that mean the house is in her name? Isn’t Pete the primary breadwinner in the beginning of the show?
21.   The McGees have a ricecooker in their kitchen! I thought that was a cool detail
22.   The home purchase agreement is a little hard to read in Home is Where the Haunt Is, but it says “I, [blank], agree to buy the property at [address, I can’t read it] even if it is [a tiny bit haunted]. This contract is legally binding and Candace Green cannot be liable for anything”. Candace absolutely knew about Scratch before he revealed himself
23.   Molly has type A blood, but whether it’s negative or positive isn’t specified (hello, blood poisoning). Also, flyers in the background promote Debate club, which implies she’d donating at school. As USA blood donation requires most donors to be a minimum of 16 years old (with parental consent) or 110 lbs, we can conclude that the school is illegally harvesting blood from the student body
24.   Why do they… why do they draw Scratch’s butt like that
25.   Libby’s left handed!
26.   The cart stunt at the beginning of No Good Deed is referenced in Darryl’s file as ‘Incident 314’
27.   Scratch doesn’t cast a shadow
28.   I don’t know why, but there’s a red sticker that shows up in the school a lot, especially around the lockers, and it just says ‘Souffle’
29.   Apparently Scratch has shared custody of Molly’s phone
30.   Who did the subtitles on DisneyPlus I just wanna talk
Feel free to add on/expand/debate if you feel the desire! I’m mostly just putting these here so they’ll stop swimming around in my head
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ejzah · 1 year
Text
First Line Tag Game
Rules: Post the first lines of your last 10 posted to ao3 ff.net. If you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics.
Thanks for tagging me @chicgeekgirl89!
1. If I Could Change One Thing
"You gotta cut me loose."
Those words haunt her. She remembers the terror in his eyes, the little hitch in his voice as he forced the plea out, his eyes glazed with fear, and so much pain.
2. The Other Shoe - Chapter 6
The next couple weeks saw an improvement for Deeks, at least in terms of normalcy. He still had his dialysis treatments and other appointments, but he'd taken on a more active role in the team again.
3. Gone Too Far, Chapter 4
"Mom, did they hurt you?" Kensi asked Julia while Deeks wrestled with his boot. She didn't see any obvious injuries but the lighting wasn't good, and anything could be hiding beneath her mom's loose blouse.
4. Type A, from Family
"So, how was your math test?" Deeks asked, trailing Rosa into the house. She'd more quiet than usual on the drive home, which he presumed had something to do with the results of said test. Overall, she was doing amazingly well academically, but he knew Rosa would be upset with anything less than a B.
5. One Minute to Midnight, from Densimber Drabbles
"Wait a second, why is there a mannequin?" Callen asked, frowning at the TV screen in Kensi and Deeks' darkened living room.
6. Never Let You Go, from Densimber Drabbles
"Hey, I was thinking we could go skating after dinner," Kensi suggested as they finished up a meal of leftover Christmas ham and sides on Thursday evening. "They're supposed have free hot chocolate and live music."
7. The Bruises That Never Fade, from How Far We’ve Come
"You look like you could use this," Kensi said, coming up behind Deeks on the back patio. A cookie appeared in his field of vision, and he chuckled, accepting the offering.
"Thanks." He turned it slowly between his fingers instead of taking a bite. Kensi looped her arms around his upper chest, kissing the back of his neck.
8. Thankful Indeed, from Family
Thanksgiving 2022 looks a little different this year. Kensi and Deeks decided to keep things simpler this year, in part because of the general chaos of the last several months.
9. A Friendly Competition, from Densimber Drabbles
"Ah, the returning hero!" Sam said grandly, standing like he was announcing the entrance of royalty.
Deeks accepted the teasing with good grace, pausing in the middle of the bullpen with Kensi by his side while the rest of the team applauded. It was his first, official day back from FLETC.
Grinning, Sam gave him a firm hug, squeezing his shoulder.
10. Looking out for a Friend, from How Far We’ve Come
After Deeks signed off, Sam immediately grabbed his cell, and tapped Rountree's square in his contacts.
"Hey, Sam what's up?" Rountree answered after two rings.
"Devin, what's Deeks doing in OPS?" Sam demanded, crossing one arm over his chest as he glared at the now dark computer screen where Deeks had been a minute ago.
Tagging whoever wants to play!
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bookwyrminspiration · 2 years
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Hello it’s mossy back with another bodyguard ask
I’ve been thinking about this ever since I read the books a few years ago:
Do the bodyguards eat?? Or sleep?? We only ever see them eat once and it was when Sophie came back to havenfield in flashback, and we’ve only ever seen Sandor sleep in the earlier books when Sophie said that he would fall asleep in her history class
Do they need sleep?? Do they need to eat?? Are they just severely overworked? And if they are overworked what does that entail?
Hope you’ve had a good week 👾
Mossy! I've had this exact question in the earlier books in regards to Sandor, especially because of that one scene where Edaline offers him a day off and he declines it, saying that Sophie's needs his protection now more than ever.
So that shows that they can have time off at the very least. But there's also the question of sleeping and eating. Eating I think is fairly simple, they eat when Sophie eats. Her schedule is their schedule, so unless there's some other situation, it seems reasonable that they'll just be part of Sophie's family's meals, though they may not eat the elven food or at the table with them and instead have something else prepared for themselves and be off to the side. Near enough to protect her if something happens but far enough away to give a sense of normalcy, you know?
Sleeping is easy if we're looking at after Flashback when Sophie's got a whopping five people assigned to her, because they can work in shifts. That way, they can take a break and sleep/do whatever else they need to without leaving Sophie unattended, and in the event of an emergency can be awoken to join the rest of the bodyguards.
Prior to that is where I'm assuming plot convenience comes through and we just ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ away any questions because those details aren't important. Because when it's just Sandor, when does he get time off? He's shown to be guarding her through the night and to be awake at least all the times when she's awake (except for that one class), and as an insomniac that is often! He can't be protecting her 24/7 because he also has needs, but with so many other plot things happening it gets swept under the table as a "don't worry about this it just works" thing. Which is fine! Totally understandable and only leads to questions when we really focus on it
At least, that's how I regard it. I did try and find some sources from real-life bodyguards to see what they do (and found out they don't like to be called bodyguards) but it seems like in the event someone needs 24/7 supervision they're high profile enough to require multiple bodyguards, and otherwise they would just be employed for events or something. So we could say that Sophie's been in need of more bodyguards since Sandor was first introduced, and perhaps he was the only one for the sake of simplicity and not having so many characters.
that's less of an in-canon reason, but I think it plays a part!
(also thank you my week is going fine so far <33)
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Chapter 9 Starting Life in Hawkins
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Warning - Swearing, very much sticking to script in this one as a gap filler. Can't change too much seeing as this is how we find more info about Vecna and Max's links to Chrissy and Fred
Word Count - 1.7k
Chapter 9
“It was here. It was right here.” Max points at the wall of the corridor. Nancy and Robin had finally gotten to the school and we were all standing staring at the empty wall behind Max.
“A grandfather clock?” I ask. Max nods.
“It was so real. As I got closer, I suddenly woke up.”
In that room when Max went into a trance, we couldn’t get her to respond to us. We were shaking her and screaming her name. It was like what Eddie had said that happened to Chrissy.
We walked back into Ms Kelly’s office. Max explained to us what she had noticed between the similarities between Chrissy and Fred’s files. How they kept getting really bad headaches, and they kept having visions of past traumas. These visions kept getting worse and worse until eventually it ended. Vecna’s curse.
Max was close to tears. “Chrissy’s headaches started 7 days ago. Fred 6 days ago.” She started to trail off. “I’ve been having headaches for 5 days now. I don’t know how long I have. All I know is Chrissy and Fred died less than 24 hours after their first vision and I just saw that god damn clock so looks like I’m going to die tomorrow.” She waved her hands in the air, trying to be strong and fight back tears.
 A noise from the hallway broke the silence. Steve grabbed a lamp as a weapon and we all slowly walked into the hallway to investigate. The sound was getting louder. Suddenly, Lucas appeared almost getting hit with the lamp as Steve swung it. 
“AHHHHHH” We all screamed.
“It's me! It’s me!” Lucas pleaded with arms in the air.
“Jesus Christ Sinclair! What are you doing?! I almost took you out with this thing!” Steve shouted while pointing at the lamp. 
“I was biking for 8 miles…trying to get here…one sec. Shit” Lucas was out of breath, exhausted, trying to compose himself to explain. “We’ve got a code red.” 
I was shaking after Lucas explained how Jason and his gang were hunting Eddie. He explained how he gave them a false location to search and how he hoped to have bought some time. Eddie was in trouble. If they found him they were going to tear him from limb to limb. They never liked him and Jason was a cruel jerk who was going insane with grief. 
We made our way back to Nancy’s house to have a look at what her and Robin had found at the library. An article about Victor Creel. From the story his family had died in similar circumstances to Chrissy and Fred. Victor was the only known survivor. He was the only one who would know how to beat this curse. 
“If El opened the gate, how did Vecna get through in the 50’s?” I ask. 
“And why now?” Adds Lucas.
“And why them? What ,he pops out in the 50’s, kills one family and then like pfftt I’m good and just disappears to return 30 years later to kill some teens.” Steve flops down.
Dustin trying to think of answers. He looks up at Max. She's sitting at a desk on the far wall, writing, letter after letter. “Any idea what she's writing?” Dustin whispers to Lucas. He just shrugs. 
The door to the basement swings open. Nancy and Robin come running down the stairs clutching some folders. “We have a plan.”
They have undergone some fake identities and are going to talk their way into meeting at the psychiatric home in Pennhurst to try and talk to Victor. Steve flips when he finds out he’s not going with them and follows Nancy upstairs arguing with her why he isn’t going with them. 
“I know you guys are staring at me.” Max finally says which makes myself, Dustin and Lucas jump and try to look like we are in the middle of something else. 
She starts handing out letters. She hands me one as well. It’s addressed to myself and Eddie. “Don’t read it now. It’s a fail safe. What I want to say to you all if things don’t go how we want.” 
“Max, you can’t think like this.” I protest but she shoots me down.
“I’m tired of everyone pretending like everything is going to be ok and that we can stop this. You saw what happened to Chrissy and Fred. No one could help them. Eddie tried but he failed.” She looked at me, both of our eyes threatening to overspill with tears. 
“You’ll need to get back to Eddie soon won’t you?” She shakes her head trying to change the subject.
“Max, I’m here for you right now.” I softly say.
She looks round to Mike’s cerebro that has been left on the table while he’s in California. “This will still reach Pennhurst if we go to East Hawkins right?” She asks Dustin.
Steve walks back into the basement. “Wait, why are we talking about East Hawkins?” We all look at him. “No, no, no, no.” He protests. 
Max is now storming out to Steve’s car, all of us following behind her. “Max, Max seriously, I’m not joking. I’m not driving you anywhere.” 
“Steve, if you think I’m going to spend what could be the last day of my life in Mike Wheeler's armpit of a basement, then you are out of your mind. So either take me where I need to go or you’re going to have to tie me down, which is technically kidnapping of a minor and if I live to see another day, I swear to god I will prosecute.” She tries the door handle of the car but it’s locked.She looks at me, then at Steve. “Open the door.” 
“Err no.” Steve shoots her down instantly. 
“I know a good lawyer.” The sternest look crossing her face.
“Steve, just open the door.” I tell him. He looks around and sighs. 
“Henderson, your walkie talkie better reach Pennhurst.” He sighs and gets in the car. 
*
Back at the trailer park we wait for Max to come back to Steve’s car. I spot my dad and duck down. I can’t have him asking questions. “Shit Max needs to hurry up.” I curse. 
“You could always stay here you know, not get yourself further into the rabbit hole with this or the freak Munson.” says Steve.
“Shut up Harrington.” I kick the driver's seat which makes him jolt forward. “Just like how you would do anything for Nancy, I would do anything for Eddie.” I hiss.
Max comes storming back. “Are you ok?” Asks Lucas.
“Just get in the car and drive” curses Max.
It's a long uncomfortably quiet ride to the cemetery. Max requested to go here after the trailer park. None of us could argue with her. She obviously had her sights set on something that she needed to do to put her mind at ease. She got out of the car and told us to wait. Lucas climbed out and chased after her.
“He still loves her, doesn't he.” I say to Dustin.
“Is it that obvious?” Dustin jokes. Things look heated between them but Lucas just wants to protect Max, like how I want to protect Eddie.
Max walks off towards a grave and leaves Lucas standing there watching after her. 
From a distance I can see she sits down by a grave, unfolds a letter. I can just about see her lips moving as she is reading the letter out loud. 
“Is that Billy’s grave?” I ask. Dustin and Steve slowly nod.I can’t even imagine what is written in that letter.
Steve looks at his watch. “She’s had enough time, I’m going to get her.” He starts to storm over. I grab his arm.
“Just give her some time.” I say to him.
“Look if she wants to get a lawyer, let her.”
As we approach Max she is still sitting on the ground staring ahead. 
“Come on Max, we gotta go now.” Steve says approaching her. He stops, the look of shock fills his face and he looks at me in horror. 
Max’s eyes have glazed over white and she is looking blankly ahead. We are calling her name but she doesn’t respond. “MAX WAKE UP!” we are shouting and clapping our hands in her face. I look over to the car where I can see Dustin and Lucas standing up straight looking over concerned, trying to figure out what is happening. They sprint over to us. Hearts in their mouths. I can hear blood pumping in my ears. Panic rising. Feeling the fear that Eddie must have felt that night in his trailer. We are all screaming her name trying to wake her. “CALL NANCY AND ROBIN” I scream to Dustin. 
Dustin is running back to the car and I can hear him screaming ‘Code Red’. No one seems to answer at first, it feels like hours pass when really it's only seconds. Seconds that we can’t spare though. 
Dustin starts running back with Max’s walkman and a load of tapes in arm. “We need to play her favourite song!” 
“Why?!” Lucas shouts.
“It’s too much to explain right now! WHAT’S HER FAVOURITE SONG!” Dustin screams.
Lucas shuffles through the tapes on the ground and finds the one he’s looking for - Kate Bush. I grab the tape and put it in the walkman turning the volume up as high as it would go as Dustin puts the headphones on Max’s head. I snap down the play button.
She starts floating up into the air. High up in the air above our heads we look up screaming her name. Pure panic is taking over us. Tears stream down my face. This is the terror Eddie felt. Unable to do anything but watch in this moment. Our efforts seem to have no effect. Helplessly we are standing below her, unable to reach. Her body suddenly jolts back into life and she falls to the ground. We catch and cradle her as she hits the ground.
Lucas sobbing into Max “I thought we lost you.” 
“I’m still here.” Max pants trying to calm herself down. 
I turn to Steve, “Do you believe Eddie now? Cos I certainly fucking do.” He envelopes me in a hug, holding me tight trying to control our shaking. My arms hug around his torso sealing our new friendship and mutual understanding. 
“I need to get back to Eddie.” My voice muffled by tears and Steve's shirt. Steve squeezes me tight in response.
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heywoodsays · 1 year
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FIFA World Cup 2022: Round of 16 Predictions
It’s been a different kind of World Cup so far — and that’s an understatement. While one always expects some upsets and some thrilling finishes, we’ve had more than our fair share of surprises and drama.
Africa had its best ever group stage with 7 wins. The warm climate of Qatar may be a factor. Two African teams have advanced this year; none advanced in Russia 4 years ago. Europe is less represented in this knockout stage than it was last time around. And while South America sent five teams to the knockout stages at the 2014 tournament in Brazil, only two have survived this time.
Favorites Brazil and Argentina are through, despite losses to Cameroon and Saudi Arabia respectively. Defending champions France also have a blemish on their record, but are through nonetheless. Regular contenders such as Spain, Portugal, the Netherlands, and England are also through.
But stalwarts like Germany, Belgium, and Uruguay could not manage to make it out of the group stage this year. Mexico failed to reach the knockout stages for the first time since 1978. Dark horse favorites Denmark couldn’t make an impact. Instead, surprise performances by Japan, Korea, and Morocco stole the show.
It’s truly a “world” tournament:
Europe - 8
South America - 2
Africa - 2
Asia - 2
CONCACAF - 1
Oceania - 1 (though they play in the Asian confederation)
Still, based on the matchups, I suspect the quarterfinals will end up looking as they normally do. Here’s how I think things will pan out…
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🇳🇱 Netherlands vs. 🇺🇸 USA
History The Dutch and Americans have met five times, but never in a competitive match. Of the five friendlies, the Dutch have won four. But the U.S. won the most recent contest 4-3 in Amsterdam in 2015.
Qatar 2022 Neither of these teams have looked great so far. Despite going undefeated in the group stage, the Dutch have underperformed. They benefited from being in the easiest group and yet struggled against Ecuador. The Americans, on the other hand, fought their way through a group that included England and two other teams comparable to them in the FIFA world rankings. And while they demonstrated grit in their must-win match against Iran, they never quite managed to show enough quality to defeat a top-flight team.
But there are rumors about the flu making its way through the Dutch team. I don’t think this will be one of the more exciting matchups, but I fancy the Oranje to come away with a narrow win. The Netherlands is undefeated in their last 18 matches, winning 13 of them. The U.S. win against Iran is their only victory in their last 6 games. This U.S. team is still young and has very little World Cup experience. Such experience counts for something in the playoff rounds.
Prediction: 🇳🇱 NED 1 🇺🇸 USA 0
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🇦🇷 Argentina vs. 🇦🇺 Australia
History These teams last played each other in a friendly 15 years ago. Australia has not defeated Argentina since 1988. In 7 contests, Argentina has 5W, 1D, 1L. This will be their first World Cup Finals meeting.
Qatar 2022 Kudos to the Socceroos for impressive wins over both Tunisia and dark horse favorites Denmark! They even came out strong in their opener against France, before finally bowing to them after a 4–1 thrashing.
I think that’s exactly what’s going to happen again against Argentina. While La Albiceleste revealed weaknesses in their stunning loss to Saudi Arabia, they showed their mettle in wins against Mexico and Poland. (The loss to the Saudis is their only defeat in their last 39 contests, dating back to 2019.) This team is now starting to click again and should be in top form to ward off any challenge from the pesky Aussies.
Prediction: 🇦🇷 ARG 3 🇦🇺 AUS 0
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🇫🇷 France vs. 🇵🇱 Poland
History France has the historic edge in this contest, with 8W, 5D, 3L. Their only previous World Cup meeting was a thrilling third-place playoff in 1982 from which Poland emerged victorious, 3-2. But France has been the better team since then.
Qatar 2022 France’s B-team suffered a 1-0 loss to Tunisia, but have otherwise been perhaps the best squad of the tournament so far. Their midfield has been on point, and Mbappé has been shining. There were some questions about this team, given their Round of 16 exit from the Euros, and recent losses to Denmark and Croatia. But France have come to play and appear poised to make a good run at defending their title.
It’s hard to see Robert Lewandowski’s Poland overcoming the depth and skill of this French squad. While the French have shown vulnerabilities in their defense (they have conceded in each game), their offensive prowess is simply too much for Poland. Les Bleus should walk away with this one.
Prediction: 🇫🇷 FRA 2 🇵🇱 POL 0
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🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 England vs. 🇸🇳 Senegal
History These two nations have never met in international football. But England has an impressive record against African competition — undefeated in all 20 games they’ve played against African nations. By contrast, Senegal have a 6-5-5 record against European teams, most recently losing to the Dutch in the group stage.
Qatar 2022 The Three Lions looks difficult to beat. If Rashford, Kane, and Saya are on their game, and a spritely Foden can make an impact coming off the bench, they should be able to score a healthy amount. But their goalless draw against the USA was a sign that this team could be stifled if faced with an opponent who wants it enough.
Senegal is Africa’s highest-ranked team, but with their star striker (Sadio Mané) out for the tournament, their path forward is a little more challenging. I’m not sure the energy from their exciting win over Ecuador will be enough to overpower or withstand one of the best squads England has sent to the World Cup in years.
Prediction: 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 ENG 3 🇸🇳 SEN 1
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🇯🇵 Japan vs. 🇭🇷 Croatia
History Japan and Croatia have squared off three times before, with each team winning once and the other match in a draw. A 1997 match in Japan saw the home side victorious, but a 1998 World Cup meeting in France went to the Europeans. Their 2006 World Cup fixture in Germany ended goalless.
Qatar 2022 The Samurai Blue have been one of the most delightful surprises of this tournament. Their stunning upsets of both Spain and Germany en route to win their challenging group places them as one of the top teams of the tournament. But can their grit and determination be enough to push them past Luka Modrić and a skilled, scrappy Croatia team that were runners-up at the last World Cup?
Get ready for this to be one of the more exciting matches of the Round of 16. Both teams play with an urgency, especially when pushed. As soon as one team takes the lead, they’ll fight to tie it up. I might not usually expect Japan to put more than one into the Croatian net, but they’ve already done that against better teams. Sadly, I think their luck will run out against the more experienced Croatians.
Prediction: 🇯🇵 JPN 1 🇭🇷 CRO 1 (wins on penalties)
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🇧🇷 Brazil vs. 🇰🇷 Korea Republic
History Brazil and South Korea have squared off in seven international matches, mostly friendlies. Korea has just one triumph, a 1-0 win in 1999. When the two teams faced off just six months ago, Brazil won 5-1. Neymar netted two in that game.
Qatar 2022 Like France and Portugal, Brazil rested their star players for their final group match and paid the price. But even Brazil’s reserves should have done better. A key issue for the team has been finishing. They need Neymar’s creativity to get their strikers in the best positions. There’s no reason the likes of Richarlison, Gabriel Jesus, Vini Jr., and Raphina shouldn’t be racking up goals.
The Koreans were able to best Portugal’s B-squad to secure their place in the Round of 16, knocking out Uruguay in the process. But other than that, their play has not provided much to suggest that they can beat The Seleção. It seems near impossible to score against Brazil’s top 11. They’ve recorded clean sheets in 22 of their last 32 games. In fact, they didn’t even surrender a shot on goal for the first two group stage matches. If Neymar is healthy, I think we should be prepared to see the Samba Kings break out at last.
Prediction: 🇧🇷 BRA 3 🇰🇷 KOR 0
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🇲🇦 Morocco vs. 🇪🇸 Spain
History Spain and Morocco faced off in the group stages at the 2018 World Cup. That match ended in a 2-2 draw, with Spain netting an equalizer in the 90th minute. Their only two other meetings came in World Cup qualifying in 1961. Spain won both.
Qatar 2022 La Roja were the early stars of the tournament after their 7-0 thumping of Costa Rica. But a draw against a lackluster Germany and a loss to Japan have tempered expectations. Morocco, on the other hand, has been one of the most consistent teams at the tournament, even defeating the second-ranked Belgians.
But this is only Morocco’s second trip to the Round of 16, and first since 1986. This Spain team has valuable experience in high-stakes tournaments. They also have exciting young players like Gavi to bring a renewed energy as well. Looking at Spain’s pacing, control, and penchant for possession, it’s hard to see Morocco extending their brilliant run. But I wouldn’t count them out. This one could head to extra time or even penalties.
Prediction: 🇪🇸 ESP 3 🇲🇦 MAR 2
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🇵🇹 Portugal vs. 🇨🇭 Switzerland
History One of two all-European battles in the Round of 16, there’s a lot of history between these two teams. The Swiss have a slight edge with 11W, 5D, 9L. The two have seen each other twice this year in the UEFA Nations League, with Portugal winning 4-0 in Lisbon and Switzerland winning 1-0 in Geneva.
Qatar 2022 Portugal joined France and Brazil as the only teams to secure their second-round berths after two games. They made several changes to their lineup against South Korea, ultimately costing them the match. But prior to that, the Portuguese looked strong — fighting off Ghana and controlling play against Uruguay.
Switzerland is much more comfortable with a slow, defensive style of play. They’re a team that ekes out 1-0 and 2-1 victories. (Their 3-2 win against Serbia was their first time scoring more than 2 goals in over a year.) But as Brazil was able to dictate the flow of their game against the Swiss, I suspect Portugal’s offense will do the same. But don’t count the Swiss out. They were still able to hold mighty Brazil to one goal, so Portugal will have their work cut out for them. I think Ronaldo and his team will prevail, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they had to go through extra time or penalties to do so.
Prediction: 🇵🇹 POR 2 🇨🇭 SUI 1
No upsets?
I realize that, in each case, I’ve predicted the favored team will win. While I really do think these are the most likely outcomes given how the teams have played so far and their histories, this is the World Cup, and there’s bound to be a surprise or two (or three). If an upset is to happen, here’s who I think is most likely to do it.
Most likely upsets
USA (16) over Netherlands (8)
Japan (24) over Croatia (12)
Morocco (22) over Spain (7)
Switzerland (15) over Portugal (9)
Senegal (18) over England (6)
Poland (26) over France (4)
Korea Rep (28) over Brazil (1)
Australia (38) over Argentina (3)
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donttalkaboutmemes · 2 years
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Sleeping Beauty (1959) Sentence Meme
Under the cut you will find 110+ sentences from 1959 version of Sleeping Beauty to use for your enjoyment!  
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1.      “In a far away land, long ago, lived a king and his fair queen.”
2.      “They named her after the dawn for she filled their lives with sunshine.”
3.      “A great holiday was proclaimed throughout the kingdom so that all of high or low estate might pay homage to the infant princess.”
4.      “Our story beings on that most joyful day.”
5.      “Fondly had these monarchs dreamed one day their kingdoms to unite.”
6.      “Each of us the child may bless with a single gift. No more, no less.”
7.      “My gift shall be the gift of beauty.”
8.      “My gift shall be the gift of song.”
9.      “Well, quite a glittering assemblage. Royalty, nobility, the gentry and, how quaint, even the rabble.”
10.   “I really feel quite distressed of not receiving an invitation.”
11.   “Oh dear, what an awkward situation.”
12.   “And you’re not offended, you excellency?”
13.   “To show I bear no ill will, I too shall bestow a gift on the child.”
14.   “The princess shall indeed grow in grace and beauty, beloved by all who adore her.”
15.   “Before the sun sets on her sixteenth birthday, she shall prick her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel and die!”
16.   “Seize that creature!”
17.   “Stand back, you fools!”
18.   “She can undo this fearful curse?”
19.   “From this slumber you shall wake when true love’s kiss the spell shall break.”
20.   “Come have a nice cup of tea, dear. I’m sure it’ll work out somehow.”
21.   “She can’t be all bad.”
22.   “I’d like to turn her into a fat, ole hoptoad.”
23.   “Now dear, that isn’t a very nice thing to say.”
24.   “You know our magic doesn’t work that way.”
25.   “Shh! Even walls have ears!”
26.   “She’d make a lovely flower.”
27.   “She always ruins your nicest flowers.”
28.   “She’ll be expecting us to do something like that.”
29.   “What won’t she expect? She knows everything.”
30.   “She doesn’t know anything about love or kindness or the joy of helping earnest.”
31.   “You know, sometimes I don’t think she’s really very happy.”
32.   “It’s the only thing she can’t understand and won’t expect.”
33.   “If humans can do it, so can we.”
34.   “We have our magic to help us.”
35.   “No magic! I’ll take those wands right now.”
36.   “You mean live like mortals? For sixteen years?”
37.   “We’ve never done anything without magic.”
38.   “It’s incredible, sixteen years and not a trace of her! She couldn’t have vanished into thin air!”
39.   “Did you hear that, my pet? All these years, they’ve been looking for a baby!”
40.   “They’re hopeless. A disgrace to the forces of evil.”
41.   “You are my last hope.”
42.   “Don’t go too far!”
43.   “And don’t talk to strangers!”
44.   “I wonder if she suspects.”
45.   “A dress a princess can be proud of.”
46.   “I never baked a fancy cake.”
47.   “I still say we ought to use magic.”
48.   “Oh, gracious! How the child has grown!”
49.   “It seems only yesterday we brought her here.”
50.   “After the day, she’ll be a princess.”
51.   “We all knew this day had to come.”
52.   “Good gracious! We’re acting like a lot of ninnies.”
53.   “Why do they still treat me like a child?”
54.   “They never want me to meet anyone. But you know something? I fooled them. I have met someone.”
55.   “A prince! He’s tall and handsome and…and so romantic…”
56.   “We walked together and talked together and just before we say goodbye, he takes me in his arms and then…I wake up.”
57.   “It’s only in my dreams.”
58.   “They say if you dream a thing more than once, it’s sure to come true.”
59.   “There was something strange about that voice. Too beautiful to be real.”
60.   “Oh, why, it’s my dream prince!”
61.   “Your highness, I’m really not supposed to speak to strangers.”
62.   “I’m awfully sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
63.   “Don’t you remember? We’ve met before.”
64.   “But when will I see you again?”
65.   “Why, it’s a very unusual cake, isn’t it?”
66.   “Well, it’s not exactly the way it is in the book, is it?”
67.   “I still think what I thunk before.”
68.   “Now to make a lovely dress, fit the grace of fair princess.”
69.   “Not pink. Make it blue.”
70.   “Make it pink.”
71.   “This is the happiest day of my life! Everything’s so wonderful!”
72.   “You’ve met some stranger?”
73.   “You’re already betrothed.”
74.   “That’s impossible! How could I marry a prince? I’d have to be a…”
75.   “He’s coming here tonight. I promised to meet him.”
76.   “I’m sorry, child, but you must never see that young man again.”
77.   “And we thought she’d be so happy.”
78.   “No sign of her yet.”
79.   “Tonight we feast to the future with something I’ve been saving for sixteen years.”
80.   “Children need a nest of their own. A place to raise their little brood, eh?”
81.   “What do you think? Nothing elaborate, of course. Forty bedrooms, dining hall.”
82.   “The love birds can move in tomorrow.”
83.   “I haven’t even seen my daughter yet and you’re taking her away from me?”
84.   “Want to see our grandchildren, don’t we?”
85.   “Doesn’t your daughter like my son?”
86.   “I’m not so sure my son likes your daughter!”
87.   “I’m not so sure my grandchildren want you for a grandfather!”
88.   “Why you unreasonable, pompous, blustering old windbag!”
89.   “I warn you, this means war!”
90.   “The children are bound to fall in love with each other.”
91.   “Change into something suitable. Can’t meet your future bride looking like that.”
92.   “What’s all this dream nonsense?”
93.   “It wasn’t a dream, father. I really did meet her!”
94.   “I said I met the girl I was going to marry. I don’t know who she was, a peasant girl I suppose.”
95.   “Give up the throne, the kingdom, for some nobody?”
96.   “You’re a prince and you’re going to marry a princess.”
97.   “You’re living in the past. This is the fourteenth century!”
98.   “This one last gift, dear child for thee, the symbol of thy royalty.”
99.   “A crown to wear in grace and beauty, as is thy right and royal duty.”
100. “I don’t see why she has to marry any old prince.”
101.  “You poor, simple fools! Thinking you could defeat me! Me! The mistress of all evil!”
102.   “Well, here’s your precious princess!”
103.   “The sun has set! Make ready to welcome your princess!”
104.   “Seems he’s fallen in love with some peasant girl.”
105.   “The peasant girl. Who is she?”
106.   “Well this is a pleasant surprise. I set my trap for a peasant and, lo, I catch a prince!”
107.   “Gently, my pets. I have plans for our royal guest.”
108.   “A wonderous future lies before you. You, the destined hero of a charming fairy tail come true.”
109.   “A hundred years to a steadfast heart are but a day.”
110.   “Let us leave our noble prince with these happy thoughts.”
111.    “For the first time in sixteen years, I shall sleep well.”
112.   “The road to true love may be barriered by still many more dangers which you alone will have to face.”
113.   “Arm thyself with this enchanted shield of virtue and this mighty sword of truth, for these weapons will triumph over evil.”
114.    “A forest of thorns shall be his tomb.”
115.    “Now shall you deal with me, prince, and all the powers of hell!”
116.     “Let evil die and good endure!”
117.    “Oh, I just love happy endings!”
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financialsmatter · 1 year
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Bird Flu Panic Pecks Away
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For those who remember the Bird Flu panic of nearly 20 years ago we remind you…It’s Baaaack! Only this time it’s yet another devious way to create more food shortages that ultimately disrupt the food supply chain and costs the consumer bigly. READ: Food Shortages Created by Lockdowns  May 21, 2022 According to the Associated Press (AP) * another 1.8 million chickens were ordered to be culled in Nebraska after agriculture officials analyzed yet another bird flu outbreak on a farm. And this comes after 50 million birds have been slaughtered nationwide to try and contain the ongoing outbreak. (* Note, coming from the AP doesn’t mean that it’s accurate or true) So, let’s get back to that food supply chain issue. And as we’ve said many times in the past, “There are no shortages of anything.  They’re all man-made shortages.” The most recent and glaring example is how the gasoline prices at the pump have been jacked up from O’Biden’s cancellation of the Keystone pipeline. WE have more than enough gas in the USA alone to supply our needs for the next 200 years. But Noooooo! Instead, we’re being forced into shortages and supply chain issues in order to advance the Climate Change hoax. READ: Global Warming…the Greatest Hoax In the 21st Century…So Far   December 15, 2017 And READ: Greedy Banksters Prove Global Warming Fraud   February 7, 2018 Bird Flu Panic In the meantime, you can thank all the Boyz creating these shortages for the eventual rise – pecking away – in the price of chicken. It’s bad enough that we still have runaway inflation on most of what we consume. But by slaughtering millions of chickens over a bogus flu will make things worse/more expensive. BTW during the Bird Flu Panic of 2003, a renowned scientist from Scotland said how the Bird Flu would infect and kill 2/3 of the world’s population. In today’s numbers that would equal over 5 Billion people. Ironically (or NOT) two years after he made that declaration, the total amount of people who died from the bird flu was less than 300. But the price of poultry went up after slaughtering millions of chickens. So, you don’t need to be a rocket scientist to see how the cretins making these claims will force another food shortage on us. And in the process, stick it to us in the wallet. Peck, Peck, Pecking Away Maybe it’s time to look at food stocks (Cough! Tyson Foods TSN, Cough! Cough!) as a way to hedge you having to pay more for poultry. And if you’re interested in other food stocks, be sure to read our Short and Sweet Tips column in December’s “…In Plain English” newsletter (HERE). Share this with a friend…even if they don’t like to eat chicken. They’ll thank YOU later. Remember: We’re Not Just About Finance. But we use finance to give you hope. ********************************* Invest with confidence. Sincerely, James Vincent The Reverend of Finance Copyright © 2022 It's Not Just About Finance, LLC, All rights reserved. You are receiving this email because you opted in via our website. Read the full article
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whoredad · 3 years
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lumity wouldn’t have been possible without catradora which wouldn’t have been possible without rupphire which wouldn’t have been possible without korrasami. and i’m sure something else is gonna come along down the line which won’t have been possible without lumity. stop comparing them and just accept that all of these pairings are groundbreaking for their times and continue to pave the way further and further for more normalized gay rep in kids media
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impostoradult · 3 years
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I finally figured out why it feels like Supernatural murdered a unicorn (AKA why you need to STOP telling me to watch Black Sails)
I’ll start by saying, everything everyone else has been saying CERTAINLY bothers me: 
- the queer-baiting - the bury your queers - the undermining of Dean’s character arc  - the wasted opportunity for a certain kind of overall narrative closure - the flat out disrespect to Misha Collins and Jensen Ackles
 All of that bothers me tremendously. 
But there has been something else rather ineffable about this that has left a horrible taste in my mouth that I couldn’t quite pin down until last night. Bear with me, if you will, because this will require some set-up. 
*** This is not the first show to ever disappoint me in a spectacular fashion, nor will it be the last, I suspect. And one of the ways I’ve always coped with that disappointment was to remind myself that there will be other stories, other characters, other chances to get it right. (”It” being any number of things from just pure narrative emotional coherence to not burying your queers to not stringing along your queer audience and then yelling fuck you to them on the way out) 
But somehow that assurance -- that there will be other stories, other characters, other chances to get it right -- has rung particularly hollow in this instance, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on why until yesterday. 
I kept asking myself, why do I still have this feeling, deep in the pit of my stomach, like something was lost here that can never be recovered? 
Because something was lost here that I am doubtful can ever be recovered, and I don’t think I’ve seen anyone else talking about this aspect of it at all. 
***
A few months ago, TV critic Maureen Ryan did a great interview piece with Mike Schur (of Parks & Rec/The Good Place) discussing the death of long-form TV in the streaming era. They explore how the longer seasons and longer runs of traditional broadcast/cable TV provided an opportunity to tell particular kinds of stories that you simply can’t when seasons are 8-10 episodes and series typically run 2-4 seasons (thanks Netflix).
One key thing we’ve all lost in this new era of highly condensed TV storytelling (and of prestige TV narrative styles)? The traditional (several season’s long) slow-burn/will-they-won’t-they romance. Not only is there simply no longer the time or space to write such romances, it has also come to be seen as hacky, manipulative, cheap, artistically impoverished, low-brow, a embarrassing vestige of the era before TV became art™. 
Everybody is trying to be Fleabag now. No one wants to be Frasier. (”It’s really more like a 10 hour movie” they all like to brag)
Obviously TV still has romances, even ‘drawn out’ romances. But ‘drawn out’ in 2020 is like 2-3 seasons, maybe. More commonly it’s like half a season. Take Schitt’s Creek. The number of episodes between when David and Patrick first meet and when they first kiss? Seven. Seven episodes. Half a season. If you watched it live, it took less than 2 months for them to move from introducing that dynamic to consummating it. And I’m not bagging on Schitt’s Creek; I think the David/Patrick’s story is very lovely and well-written. 
But Niles & Daphne (Fraiser) had to wait 7 years and over 150 episodes before they finally got there. Josh & Donna (The West Wing) had to wait 6+ years, and 145 episodes. Mulder & Scully (The X-Files) had to wait 7 seasons and 143 episodes. Booth & Bones had to wait...you see where I am going with this. 
And my point is (and I can’t believe I never realized this explicitly until now): there has NEVER been a queer slow-burn/will-they-won’t-they romance of that type on TV ever. EVER. 
I’m going to say that again, because I think it bares repeating:
There has never been a queer, slow-burn/will-they-won’t-they romance that fits the 100-150 episode paradigm of delayed gratification on TV. 
Not ever.  
I can’t think of ONE example  Not a single, solitary one. And I know queer TV pretty well. Arguably the closest we’ve ever come is Legend of Korra, and that ran 50 episodes, a THIRD of the length of old school will-they-won’t-theys like Booth & Bones or Josh & Donna. 
Queer people have had a fair number of canonical romances on TV by now, even fairly long running ones. But we never got a primary/front-and-center romance that you had to root for for 100+ episodes before you got any kind of canonical consummation.
That is a particular kind of TV experience that queer people and queer characters were just 100% shut out of until it was too late. And because of how the TV landscape has changed in the last 10 years, I don’t know that that opportunity will ever come back around in our lifetimes. 
***
Dean and Castiel are/were a legacy of an earlier era of TV, an era that still contained the possibility for a will-they-won’t-they of that particular mold. There were other shows that could have also filled this gap at one time - Rizzoli & Isles, OUAT, House MD, etc. But one by one all of them were killed off, their queer romances unrequited, until Supernatural was the only one of its’ generation left standing. 
And they should have acknowledged that they were a species about to become extinct. 
There are plenty of other valid and compelling reasons Supernatural should have gone full Destiel, don’t get me wrong.
A) It would have been the most emotionally satisfying ending to the series and to those characters (and that would have been reason enough). 
B) It would have stopped the manipulative queer-baiting of the (disproportionately queer) fanbase (and that would have been reason enough). 
C) It would have been queer representation of middle-aged men, of bi men, of queers who came to their queerness later in life (and any/all of those would have been reason enough). 
D) It could have been a glorious subversion of the bury your queers trope, considering how often they’ve died and been resurrected (and that would have been reason enough). 
But point E) on this list is the reason this one hurts in a singular way that no one even appears to be acknowledging. 
Almost all of the other wrongs and missed opportunities contained in this Supernatural debacle have the possibility of being rectified (at least to a degree) elsewhere. I can and I likely will get more bi male characters from TV as time goes on. I can and likely will get more middle-aged queer characters. I can and likely will get more queer characters coming to their queerness later in life, and starting queer romances later in life. I can and likely will get more queer characters who aren’t killed cheaply and prematurely. I can and likely will get more genre TV shows with sprawling myth arc plots that are resolved in a coherent, satisfying way. I can and likely will get Misha Collins and Jensen Ackles involved in other projects that value their work and their talents. 
All of those other things are at the very least POSSIBLE, and many are even likely. 
But a queer 100-150 episode slow-burn romance a la Mulder & Scully or Niles & Daphne or Booth & Bones? That is the one baton Supernatural dropped spectacularly that no one else even has the possibility of picking up again for the foreseeable future. (They don’t even write those types of romances for heterosexuals anymore!) 
Seriously. It was a TV unicorn. And rather than letting it run wild and free, they stabbed it with a rusty nail. 
***
Given the monumental shifts in the TV landscape that have occurred in the last decade, I don’t know that TV will ever go back to the slow-burn/will-they-won’t-they romance spanning 100-150 episodes. Today it is a miracle if you can get ANY show to last longer than 50 episodes in the first place. 
And that is the piece of this that makes it feel (to me) like they murdered a unicorn.  
Because queer people have gotten a lot of things from TV, and they will get a lot more as time goes on. But that one? That one could very well be a totally extinct species.
That is the larger missed opportunity here that has left this feeling especially hollow and destructive. That is the thing that makes me balk when people tell me to go watch Black Sails or Pose or whatever other prestige TV show is doing this representation ‘better.’ Because that’s not really the loss I am mourning here. I KNOW there is ‘better’ representation elsewhere.  
But the will-they-won’t-they/slow-burn romance is a qualitatively unique thing that queer people literally just never got. Ever. There is no substitute, no alternate, no other show I can turn to with that kind of build-up and pay-off for a queer couple, and there probably won’t be in my lifetime. Not unless the TV industry undergoes another monumental evolution similar to the streaming revolution that shifts the incentives back to telling those types of stories again. 
All those shows you want me to displace Supernatural with? None of them can give me the one thing I uniquely wanted (and could have gotten) from Supernatural. THAT ALTERNATE SHOW DOESN’T EXIST. It doesn’t exist. And I have no reason to hope it will ever exist in my lifetime. 
So stop telling me to look somewhere else; you don’t understand what made this one a unicorn. 
***
Addendum: The only other possible show that could perhaps fill this gap is It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia (re: Mac/Dennis). But I’m hesitant to say it exactly meets that criteria, for a number of reasons:
1 - It’s far less serialized relative to Supernatural and (except for a handful of stand-alone episodes) very little of the story is grounded specifically in Dennis/Mac’s romantic dynamic (unlike SPN, where it is absolutely central to much of the narrative)
2 - IASIP is fundamentally satirically in nature/tone which makes it much harder to have genuine romantic pathos (not impossible, but harder) 
3 - All the characters on IASIP are fundamentally crummy people who you aren’t exactly supposed to root for. Which doesn’t mean a romance between two of them can’t have its value/charm/worth but it’s not the same as when it is between characters who unequivocally deserve nice things/happy endings
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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years
Text
Spilled Pearls Extra 1
- ao3 -
Lan Xichen spent a lot of time learning his family’s rules.
They were important to his uncle, who raised him, and that meant that they were important to him. They were his heritage and his birthright, and anyway he loved his uncle and it made him happy which was good enough for Lan Xichen, but that didn’t make learning them easy or anything. Each rule had to be learned both by itself and in context with others; it wasn’t as simple as memorizing a list and calling it done. You had to learn them and know them and then live up to them to the best of your ability, and that was the work of a lifetime – which Lan Xichen, now six years old, had been informed was an awful long time.
Moreover, though his uncle had never said so, Lan Xichen had heard from the other people in the sect that learning the rules was important because following the rules would make sure he didn’t turn out like his father, who had let down so many people in their sect. Many of the elders said things like that when his uncle wasn’t around, though his uncle never did – his uncle spoke well of their father, although in abstract tones, but sometimes he looked sad about it, too, and therefore Lan Xichen was determined to listen and learn the rules well so that he would never disappoint his uncle the way his father had.
Of course, there were other advantages to learning the rules.
The commentary, for instance.
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1
Talking behind other people's backs is prohibited.
“Unless it’s really funny,” Lan Yueheng said, and – as always – seemed not to notice the way Lan Xichen’s uncle glared at him. “Oooh, actually, let me give you an example, I just heard the best story –”
-
“If you don’t understand those around you, you will be at their mercy, rather than they at yours,” Wen Ruohan said, perfectly poised and with a sharp smirk, just the way he always was unless he happened to be talking to Lan Xichen’s uncle. “How better to learn to understand people than to know what others say about them when they are not around?” His smirk widened. “Look at what people say about me.”
-
“What are you supposed to do if you don’t?” Lao Nie asked, grinning wickedly. “Say mean things about them in front of their faces instead? I can do that!”
-
“I mean, if it’s news, it’s not gossip, right?” Cangse Sanren said, tapping her cheek while pretending to be thoughtful as if it would hide her great big smile. “I’m sure that’s how I learned it, and I was a very good student – no, no, don’t listen to what your uncle says!”
-
“Well, I wish my mother would do less of it,” Wen Xu said, rolling his eyes. He’d come along to visit with his father again the way he always did – he was always tagging along with his father, really, and his father indulged him more often than he probably should, according to both sects’ elders. Not that Wen Ruohan listened to anyone but Lan Xichen’s uncle. “Sometimes I think that’s all she does! It’s boring!”
-
“If you mean what you say and say what you mean, then your friends will never doubt you whether you are in front of them or not,” Nie Mingjue said, then frowned. “I mean, I think?”
-
“Listen to A-Jue,” Lan Xichen’s uncle said when Lan Xichen reported on the discussions, throwing up his hands in disgust. “He’s the only one of the lot of them worth anything.”
“It’s his mother’s contribution,” Lao Nie opined.
“It’s certainly not yours,” Wen Ruohan said. “Anyway, what was wrong with A-Xu’s answer? It was accurate.”
“It has nothing to do with the rule!”
“That’s because I’ve already mastered it years ago,” Wen Xu said cheerfully. Surprisingly cheerfully, given that Nie Mingjue was sitting on him again; maybe he’d gotten used to Nie Mingjue always winning.
Lan Xichen’s uncle rubbed his forehead. “A-Xu, if you really want to go copy the rules on humility a few more times, you don’t have to wait for me to instruct you to do so –”
“He’s right, though,” Cangse Sanren cackled from her husband’s lap. “Madame Wen is an amazing source of gossip, but it does get a bit boring sometimes. You can’t punish him for being right!”
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2
Do not succumb to rage.
“Unless there’s a very good reason,” Lao Nie said, picking Lan Xichen up in one arm as if he weighed as little as a feather, and Nie Mingjue in the other just as easily, even though he was much bigger. “In the world there are many injustices, and it is your duty to fight against them with everything that you have – if you are wholly above the feeling of rage, then you have forgotten your empathy, and soon will follow the crooked path into indifference.”
-
“The issue is succumbing to rage,” Wen Ruohan said. “You can be angry, or even furious, but you should always maintain your self-control. Once you’ve mastered yourself, you can master others.”
-
“He means get revenge,” Wen Xu said knowledgably. “You get angry, then you get even.”
-
“Oh, rage?” Cangse Sanren asked, rolling up her sleeves. “Well, as it happens, I’m going to go have a chat with your mother, I’ll give you a good demonstration of –”
“You are doing no such thing,” Lan Xichen’s uncle said, exasperated. “Get back here.”
-
“It’s a waste of time,” Lan Yueheng said. “Getting angry takes time and energy. Why not be happy instead?” He thought about it. “Well, I mean, sometimes cursing a little bit when something goes wrong is nice. Even the calmest concoction needs to blow off steam sometimes to retain its equilibrium!”
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3
Do not disrespect your elders.
“And I,” Wen Ruohan said, looking positively gleeful, “am the eldest.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Lan Xichen’s uncle said at once. “Xichen, you hear me? Don’t listen to him.”
-
“There’s a difference between disrespect and disobedience,” Cangse Sanren said. “Being old doesn’t mean being right, it means that there’s a greater probability that they’ve encountered something in their lifetime that will give them an insight you lack. You should honor and respect their insight, but always make your own decisions in the end.”
-
“I mean, you could always listen to me, instead,” Lao Nie said. “I’m your elder too, aren’t I?”
-
“Don’t listen to either Uncle Wen or my father,” Nie Mingjue said, looking long-suffering. “They both like to play tricks.”
-
“Wait,” Lan Yueheng said. “I’m an elder? Since when? That’s a terrible idea!”
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4
Do not take advantage of your position to oppress others.
“Don’t listen to Wen Ruohan,” Cangse Sanren said.
-
“Don’t listen to Sect Leader Wen,” Lan Yueheng said.
-
“Definitely do not listen to Hanhan,” Lao Nie said. “At all. In any way.”
-
“Probably best not to listen to A-Xu’s dad,” Nie Mingjue said, and glanced over apologetically.
“No, no, you’re right,” Wen Xu said, nodding furiously. “He’s kind of awful about these sorts of things.”
-
“They’re all being absolutely ridiculous,” Wen Ruohan said. “I’m perfectly reliable on such matters. After all, what’s the point of working so hard to obtain and maintain power if you don’t oppress those that deserve it? If you don’t take advantage, who will?”
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5
Do not make assumptions about others.
“I used to assume that Cangse Sanren was  a normal human being,” Lan Yueheng said. “Goes to show what I know, right?”
-
“I used to assume that Wen Ruohan was a perfectly normal self-absorbed murderer that would keep his greedy hands to his own people,” Cangse Sanren said, sounding irritable. “And not have perfectly ordinary rogue cultivators followed around by complete weirdos because he’s secretly worried about them like a mother hen!”
-
“I used to assume that people would be grateful when someone rescued them and their husband from near certain death,” Wen Ruohan said.
-
“I used to assume that the funniest thing in the world was watching Hanhan argue with your uncle,” Lao Nie said, chin on his hands. “Little did I know that adding Cangse Sanren to the mix made it even funnier.”
-
“Grown-ups are stupid sometimes,” Wen Xu said. “That’s why you have to verify everything they say for yourself.”
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6
Embrace the entirety of the world.
“By being righteous,” Nie Mingjue said.
-
“By taking it all over, as far as I can tell from my father,” Wen Xu said.
-
“Depends on what you define as the world, doesn’t it?” Lao Nie said.
-
“Be ambitious,” Wen Ruohan said. “Define it broadly.”
-
“I mean, I don’t think your arms are quite long enough yet, the world’s pretty big,” Lan Yueheng said. “But I pick you up and swing you around, maybe they’ll stretch a little. Want to try?”
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7
Do not associate with evil.
“I mean, it’s true, but you have to think carefully about what you categorize as evil,” Lao Nie said. “Just being a man-eating nation-destroying inhuman amoral nine-tailed fox isn’t automatically enough to qualify, right?”
-
“That’s, uh, a really weirdly specific example,” Lan Yueheng said. “I feel like at least three of the things on that list probably rise to the level of evil? Or have I missed something?”
-
“Lao Nie said – oh no, not again,” Wen Ruohan said, and patted Lan Xichen on the head before he stalked out the door. “I’m the only evil you should associate with, you hear me?”
-
“I bet she’s got teeth in interesting places,” Cangse Sanren said. “I’ve got to meet her…hmm? Evil? Does that really matter? It’s going to be funny.”
-
“She’s not evil,” Nie Mingjue said. “She’s pretty nice, actually. She calls me ‘meatball’ and ‘pork bun’ and says I’m so cute that she wants to eat me right up.”
-
“I’m pretty sure she means it literally,” Wen Xu said. “Gear up, Xichen! We’ve got to go save Mingjue!”
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8
Do not tell lies.
“People don’t believe the truth, so why not tell it?” Cangse Sanren said.
-
“Using the truth makes your misdirections more believable and your critiques more devastating,” Wen Ruohan said.
-
“Why would you even want to lie?” Nie Mingjue asked, puzzled.
-
“There’s a difference between not telling lies and not having the slightest bit of tact,” Lao Nie said, rubbing his face. “Maybe you can help A-Jue figure that out.”
-
“Silence is always a good alternative when you don’t want to admit to stuff you’ve done that maybe, just maybe, might annoy some people,” Lan Yueheng said, looking over his collapsed laboratory with a wince. “Not that I’d know anything about that, of course.”
-
“Telling a lie will only get you into more trouble later when they figure it out,” Wen Xu said. “Because then they’re angry at you for what you did and for lying about it. It’s just not worth it!”
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9
Do not disregard the rules.
“Unless they’re really stupid,” Lao Nie said.
-
“I mean,” Nie Mingjue said, wrinkling his nose. “As a general rule, yes. But it’s different if following the rules would permit injustice to happen, that’s for sure.”
-
“It’s a matter of picking what rule is the relevant one,” Wen Ruohan said. “Be thoughtful, and you can have the moral high ground in any situation…your uncle is irritatingly good at that.”
-
“You’ve got to know what the rule is before you break it,” Wen Xu said. “That way you can decide if it’s worth the cost of breaking it or not.”
-
“If there’s any you think are wrong, you should say something,” Lan Yueheng said. “The rules are a gift handed down from our ancestors and ought to be respected, but each of us has a duty to put in our own thoughts as well – our contribution to the next generation down. Anyway, your uncle will probably be able to put together a reasonable argument as to why changing the rule is appropriate and truer to our sect’s principles than the version carved on the wall. He’s good at that!”
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10
“I want the rules to be a foundation under your feet,” Lan Xichen’s uncle said. “They should give you confidence in your actions and pride in your family and sect; they should not feel like they are binding you. If they are, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”
Maybe if it was just Lan Xichen and his uncle, the two of them and maybe also little baby Lan Wangji and the rather unreliable Lan Yueheng and the even more unreliable Lao Nie, Lan Xichen would immediately and unhesitatingly agree, and then never say anything anyway no matter what he felt. He loved his uncle so much, and every one in a while his uncle seemed so sad; he couldn’t bear to be the one to add more pain and burden to his uncle’s shoulders, already weighed down with the expectations of the sect that should have been his father’s responsibility and would one day be Lan Xichen’s.
But it wasn’t just them, and Lan Xichen frowned a little, really thinking about it. “Maybe,” he said after a while. “Or maybe I’d tell Uncle Wen about it, and then he’d find a way to fix it, or to tell you about it in a way that didn’t make you sad. Does that work, too?”
His uncle looked amused.
“Yes,” he said. “That works. Just remember –”
“Don’t listen to him about ‘oppressing others’?”
“Exactly.”
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wiypt-writes · 3 years
Text
Murder, He Wrote
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Part 7
Summary: Ransom makes good on his promise and your parents arrive for dinner. But then, you discover something that brings your entire world shattering down around you once more…
Warnings: Bad language words. MATURE (NSFW 18+) NON-CON situation, kidnap and violence. DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THOSE TRIGGER… READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!
Pairing: DARK! Ransom Drysdale x Reader
A/N:  So here it is, the last chapter to this series! I can’t believe all this spun from @jtargaryen18​‘s Halloween challenge last year, and here we are 6 months later! Of course, I’d love to thank my writing partner from the earlier chapters, but sadly she’s no longer on Tumblr. Without her none of this would have been possible. I love you SG wherever you are. Thank you to everyone who has read and engaged so far and I hope you’ve enjoyed it as much as I’ve enjoyed writing. The Epilogue will follow next week and trust me, you do NOT want to miss that!!
In this, the reader has a sister, however feel free to interpret the Y/S/N element as sibling instead, if that appeals to you.
Word Count: 8.5k (I’m sorry I don’t do short fics, really I am!!)
READ THE WARNINGS!!!! This is a DARK Series… don’t @ me if you can’t follow simple instructions and end up with butt-hurt. And if you’re under 18…get off my blog.
Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and by writing it does NOT mean I agree with or condone the acts contained within. This fiction is classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.
Murder, He Wrote Masterlist // Main Masterlist.
Part 6
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 “Will you relax?” Ransom drawled from where he sat, sprawled back on the sofa in the main lounge of the house, his denim clad legs crossed at the ankles, his black cashmere sweater torso melting against the cushions. “It’s just your parents, what’s the big deal?” You weighed your reply but instead smiled, he couldn't possibly understand. He wouldn't. "Let me just have this moment, please." He looked at you, his eyebrow arched before he scoffed, “whatever, Sweetheart. But if you’re gonna keep pacing up and down, can you do it in the hallway? The wood flooring is a lot more hardwearing.” With a roll of your eyes you left the lounge, wringing your hands together. This was the first time in months you'd be seeing your parents and it wasn't lost on you the charade you'd have to keep up despite wanting to somehow plea for a rescue. It was also worrying how they were going to react. Especially following the call you’d made a week or so ago, just before New Year’s Eve.
When you’d dialled the number you knew off by heart, your mother had answered. And upon hearing your voice she had shrieked and then the line had gone quiet until your father had spoken your name with a trembling voice. You’d been unable to answer straight away, your own voice catching, before a sob had burst from your throat and the tears had poured down your face. You’d managed a few, choked words of apologies until Ransom had pushed himself up from the seat he had been perched in, silently observing. He curled his arm over your shoulder, giving you a squeeze as you composed yourself. Eventually, you’d managed to calm yourself down and thankfully your dad hadn’t asked too many questions but had accepted your invite to dinner.
And now, here you were, nervously awaiting their arrival.
It wasn’t lost on you that, in their eyes, the fact you had cut them off was your decision, not forced on you by the man you were now sharing a bed with. And that was your other worry, you had no idea how he was going to behave. If Ransom showed your family the same contempt he displayed to his own, your dad wasn’t the type of man who would stand for it. And then what? But you had zero time to think on it as the doorbell rang. Your heart leapt to your throat and your stomach turned acidic. Ransom poked his head out of the lounge and looked at you expectantly, like you were to answer. Adjusting your sweater dress for the millionth time, you walked to the front door and reached for the knob with a shaky hand. You steeled your nerves and blinked hard to dissipate the tears, and opened the door. For the first time in months you looked back into the familiar eyes of your parents. Your mom’s face was pinched, as if she was chewing the inside of her cheeks and as you glanced to your dad you already noticed the daggers he was shooting at the man behind you. To anyone else it would be enough to make them quake in their shoes, but not Ransom. “Mom, Dad.” Your voice sounded alien as you spoke quietly, your fingers grabbing at the bottom of your sleeves as one of Ransom’s hands curled over your shoulder. "Y/N," your dad replied, and the awkwardness officially set in.
"Aren't you going to invite them in, Sweetheart?" Ransom's voice made you jump a bit.
"Yes, please, come in," you stepped aside for them to enter. "Welcome to, erm, our home."
Calling it that felt all sorts of wrong, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it. Besides, it wasn’t like you could call it what it was, your prison. Your father stepped inside followed by your mother, the foyer now feeling a little crowded. Your mother was quick to pull you in for a hug. But it was brief and not the way she used to hug you, no, this hug felt like it came from a stranger. Your dad’s embrace, however, was everything you remembered. Safety, strength and love and you felt yourself melt into his arms, choking back a sob as you pressed your face into his chest. "We appreciate you coming to dinner," Ransom spoke, breaking the embrace you shared with your father. "It's nice to finally meet you both. I'm Ransom." Your dad looked at you as you nodded, wiping the tears from your eyes as he looked to Ransom. “We know who you are. With the news, the papers and Y/N's article, we've probably become more acquainted than you're aware.” He spoke calmly but cooly, gripping Ransom’s outstretched hand with a less than friendly shake, one that would make a lesser man wince. Instead, you saw what you thought was a flicker of amusement on Ransom's face before your dad released his hand and you introduced your mother. She didn’t offer her hand. Instead she gave a sniff and took a deep breath, getting straight to the point as she always did. “Well, this is all very nice and everything but what the hell do you think you’re playing at, Y/N? You disappeared with no trace, we thought you were dead, and then we find out you're not. Instead you’re, with him, choosing not to contact us or speak to us? Forgive me for the brash and abrupt approach, but before we sit down for dinner, we deserve some answers.” Her voice gathered pace and volume as she continued to rail at you, telling you how worried and sick the entire family had been, how thanksgiving and Christmas without you had been awful and whatever else she had on her mind as she spewed her words at you, her face an eyes blazing with anger. You felt sick, never had you meant for any of this to happen, clearly. And you'd secretly hoped Ransom would have seen the devastation he'd caused by his actions, however you knew that was an ill-fated hope just as well. You struggled to speak, the words jumbling around in your head and your mouth bone dry. "I'm so sorry," Ransom sighed. "Why don't we come into the lounge and have a drink or two and we can talk all about it? I know that Y/N was looking forward to your visit and clearing the air."
He looked at you as he ushered towards the lounge, a hidden smugness to his face that only you could detect. He thought he'd just played the hero, the prince saving his distressed princess. “Good idea,” your dad nodded, his hand gently on the base of your mother’s spine, “come on, Honey.” “Straight down, second on your right.” Ransom informed as your parents headed off a little ahead of you.
“Now, remember, what you tell them has to match what you said to Blanc.” Ransom took your hand in his and spoke quietly as you both began to follow your parents. “I. Know.” You grit though your teeth and jerked your hand free of his. He stopped dead and turned to face you, and for the first time ever you saw something akin to fear on his face, you were resisting that much anger. “Y/N...” he started but you shook your head. “You have no idea how much you’ve hurt them or me do you? That or you simply still don’t care.” You hissed before you took a deep breath and drew yourself up tall. “But, we’ll just go in there, spin a load of more lies and that’s it, all done isn’t it?” He blinked before his jaw set and he shook his head. “I’m warning you...” “What else is new?” You sighed. “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything and I’ll still be here when they leave.” You stepped a pace or two in front of him and entered the lounge. Your parents were sitting on the couch you'd become very familiar with while Ransom moved straight for the drink cart. "Mr. Y/L/N, can I interest you in a top shelf scotch?" "Mom," you said softly as the conversation between your dad and Ransom faded out, "Ransom and I have a great white wine if you'd like or..." "Scotch is fine," she interrupted you, a stone cold look to her disappointed face. Ransom served the drinks, handing you your preferred wine with a kiss to your head. You watched how your parents interacted with him, the way your father watched every calculated step, the way your mother shot daggers in the two of you as you sat opposite them on the love seat. You leaned forward so as to move a bit away from Ransom, however, he was quick to put his arm over the back of the love seat, his hand able to still touch you. “So, erm, how’s....” “Your sister? Nanna? Granddad? Who would you like to start with?” Your mom took a sip of her drink and you dropped your eyes, your gaze focussed on your hands as they rubbed together. 
"I'm sorry, okay?” You stuttered, shaking your head. “I know you’re angry and upset and you have every right to be but... I didn’t do any of this on purpose.” “That detective man, Blanc, and the police... they said you didn’t want us to know where you were...” “I didn’t.” You choked on the lie a little. “My head was a mess and...” you sniffed as you felt Ransom’s fingers graze the skin on the back of your neck as you looked at your mom. “Mom, please, please don't make tonight continue with vicious jabs and vile glares. I'm sorry, to you, to everyone. I was...." you stopped and centred yourself. "I was lost and I didn't know what to do." "Why don't we just get this out of the way then maybe we can move on with our evening?" Ransom suggested and your father nodded in shocking agreement. "Let's let her explain, Dear. She said she made a mistake and there were good reasons she couldn't come to us, I'm sure. Let's just hear her out." Your father was always the more sensible one. You mother took a shaky breath and looked at you and you swallowed before you started to talk, the lie you had rehearsed in your head slipping from your lips. “I erm, I was having a bit of trouble at work and everything just got too much and... well, I don’t know what happened, a breakdown or whatever,” you took a deep breath, “I just needed to get away, from everything.” “Including us?” Your mom asked and you shook your head. “I wasn’t thinking straight, I just...” "You know, it doesn’t matter what you say to explain because frankly, I won't understand but I do hope that you never have to experience what we went through. Ever." She deadpanned. "I do believe that is my fault, Mrs. Y/L/N. I encouraged her approach and didn't discourage the fact that she wasn't contacting you or anyone she was close with." Ransom sighed, feigning concern for your parents.
You knew what he was doing, the Master Manipulator was coming out in him and you knew there was no going back, no. It was as if Ransom said 'challenge accepted' in winning your parents over. Just, so you assumed, the night would end and you'd be happy in his arms and they'd never think twice about your brief disappearance again. “We hadn’t been seeing each other that long, and my reputation isn’t the greatest. But I should have put my own concerns aside and seen that the way we were going about things was wrong and I should have insisted she reached out. You see, me and my family aren’t close and I sometimes forget that we’re the ones that aren’t normal.” "We hadn't known she was seeing anyone," your mum stated. She was out with her claws, not going to let Ransom nor you off so easily.
"Well, I'm not like Y/S/N, Mom. I don't just bring home whomever I'm taking to bed that month." You'd said it before you could stop it. Never had you said something like that before about your sister, nor spoken to your mother like that. And you didn't miss the twitch of a smirk to the corner of Ransom's lips, telling you he was a bit proud. Surely, you didn't want him to be rubbing off on you in that way. "I'm sorry, that wasn't how I meant it. I just knew I had to be more careful in sharing everything. Like he said, he's not got the best rap, but, after my interview on him, well I guess I just found him intriguing and-“ “Ah, yes," your father now spoke up, cutting you off, “the smear and redact. Believe me, Ransom, we're very familiar with your reputation and our daughter's initial thoughts on you. Which is why you can see how we were a little surprised, once the initial shock of her supposed death wore off, that the two of you were... together." “I understand.” Ransom nodded. “And I would feel the same in your shoes. But, well, I guess after the interview things just kind of spiralled from there. I don’t really know how it happened myself, to be honest, I’m just glad it did.” As if he was sealing the deal, he leaned toward you and pressed his lips to your temple. You sighed and gave him a smile. This bastard was smug enough to start shifting the tone in the room with a metaphorical snap of his fucking fingers and you watched it work on your parents. The ice slowly melting away, the glacial peak softening around your mother. And then the metaphorical snap became a real one as he moved his arm from round you, clicked the fingers of both hands and then slapped his left palm with the underside of his right fist with a flourish as he flashed a smile round the room. “Okay, so....who’s hungry?”
Your parents both raised their eyebrows and as your mom looked at your dad, you saw him shake his head ever so slightly and she took a deep breath, before she turned back to Ransom and you, a small smile on her face. “Dinner sounds great.” "Sweetheart, after you," Ransom politely shifted to the side so you could rise and lead the way. He turned back to your parents, "we wanted to make sure we were able to spend as much time together without the chore of preparing and cleaning up after so we had dinner brought in. Y/N had it all set just before you arrived." You shot him a glare as you moved by him, your mother and father behind you, Ransom pulling up the rear. Sure enough, still warm and catered were four place settings at the table in the large dining room across and down a bit from the lounge. Your parents sat down across the table from where you and Ransom stood, silver dome lids obscuring your eyeline as you sat. Oddly, you'd never eaten in the dining room before. It was your room in the basement, the kitchen table or the coffee table in the lounge. Red wine and cutlery were already set along with water. Your parents and Ransom set their scotch glasses near the wine. Your dad arched an eyebrow at the ostentatious nature of it all and you caught his gaze as he gave you a kneeling smirk. With a laugh, you realized that someone should at least remove the lids, and since you were the host, you rose from your chair and bent over the table a little, reaching for the knobs of their domes. You stacked them together and sat back down, pulling yours and Ransom's as you went.
As you settled down to eat, your parents both complimented the food before a little silence fell as you all ate, the occasional clanking of cutlery against the porcelain plates ringing out across the large room. Ransom made a few comments here and there about the food from the company you’d ordered from being good, as usual, your parents agreeing before a light conversation struck up about the holidays and various other mundane topics, all as if you were close and the conversation prior hadn't happened. Like it was a regular Sunday family dinner. All the time, you spotted your parents growing more and more comfortable with the situation, and you felt yourself relax a little, hoping and praying that things would keep amicable.
And then, after another spell of silence you heard your mother clear her throat. "So, Ransom, what is you do? I never gathered that from…well, from…” she trailed off and Ransom took a dep breath. “To be honest with you, Mrs. Y/L/N, not a great deal until recently. Just another way Y/N managed to help me change my life around." He looked at you with appreciation. "She made me see that living my life riding off people’s coat tails wasn’t really anything to be proud of.” He paused to take a sip of his scotch before he cut another piece of his steak. “Now I’m writing. I have a couple of things on the go and a few from my grandfather that he never finished so, hopefully, they’ll take off.” This bastard! You could not believe the bullshit that so easily sprang from his mouth. It was fascinating and yet absolutely disgusting at once. You found yourself convinced, and not for the first time, that he actually believed the shit he talked. "What's your book about, if you don’t mind me asking?" You father queried, after swallowing down his steak with his wine, saving his scotch for after. “Not at all,” Ransom swallowed his food. “Another area I’ve taken inspiration from, it’s based on a private detective.” He gave a chuckle. “I’ll be handing out a lot of royalties and dedications at this rate.” "Just a private detective?" You pressed, having wondered yourself as he'd told you once before you were an inspiration. He looked at you, smirking a little. “I’ve told you, Princess, I’ll let you read it when the first draft is done.”
Your father eyed you as Ransom spoke of pet names and inspirations. Your eyes flitted away from his gaze, entertaining Ransom's portion of the conversation but you found them quickly fluttering back to those kind eyes that matched yours. At that point, your dad shot you a sweet father-like wink before clearing his throat and speaking.  "So, let's not beat around the obvious, this is awkward." He paused to emphasize his point. "I'll just come right out with it. What could your future intentions be with my daughter?"
"Jesus Christ, Dad!" You surely hadn't seen that coming.  Ransom blinked a little before he cleared his throat. “I’ll keep her as long as I can, Sir.”
At that, his hand curled over your knee, giving a gentle squeeze and you took a deep breath, drawing your back up straight as his hand gently started to trail further up towards your thigh, fingers still hot on your skin through the layer of your thick tights. You cleared your throat, and moved a little, and Ransom removed his hand, a smirk blatantly evident on his face.
“Good to know.” Your dad reached for his wine again, a teasing smile on his face. “I mean the lease has gone on her apartment now and we turned her room into a gym the moment she moved out.”
“Oh purlease!” Your mom scoffed, “a gym. By that he means he has a rowing machine and a bunch of weights that serve as nothing more than expensive door stops.”
At that Ransom gave a full belly laugh, his head tipping back with just the right amount of humour. Not too much to appear fake, but enough to seem like the exchange had genuinely amused him. He almost had you fooled too.
Bastard.
The rest of the dinner past with fairly amicable chat, the ice well and truly broken. Ransom and your father struck up a pleasant conversation about football and then baseball, Ransom confessing that he hadn’t been following either sport much recently but also nodding when your dad suggested that perhaps they could catch a game sometime soon, in a bar. At that you had smirked into your glass, as you knew the thought of going to a place surrounded by a load of loud, drunken members of the public would be Ransom’s idea of hell. The idea that he might just have to follow through on your promise amused you, a lot.
Eventually, your parents both announced that they should be going, and the warmth and happiness that had descended on you began to slowly seep away as you hugged them both good bye. As they headed down to their car, you stifled down a sob as you waved them away, realising you had no idea when you’d be seeing them again. That was on Ransom, for him to decide when and if you deserved it.
But, you’d played his game. You’d behaved. He said he wanted you to trust him, to be content with him. Surely, he would realise that this was the happiest you’d been since he snatched you, and if you continued to behave then he would have no reason to keep you from seeing them for so long again.
With a sigh you turn away from the door and step back inside, Ransom just behind you. You stopped and waited for him to close the door and lock it. He gave you a little twitch of a smile. 
“Well, that wasn’t as painful as I expected.”
You rolled your eyes.
"You were great, Sweetheart."
"Yeah, well, you won them over. I doubt they suspected anything by the time they left." Your words didn't cut him, they cut you. You cleared your throat and shook your head, "anyway, I'm going to go clean up. I'll meet you upstairs."
"What, no 'thank you'?" He piqued.
You turned back to him, "Thank you, Ransom. For allowing my parents to come over."
“That wouldn’t be sarcasm, now would it?” He arched a brow, his arms folding across his chest.
"Oh, no, not at all," you overly pouted, stepping up to him, running your hands over his chest to seal your own sarcastic ploy.
His hands were quick to grab your wrists and oddly there was an air of excitement to your eyes.
“What on earth is there to possibly be sarcastic about?” You continued and he scoffed.
“It’s a good thing I kinda like your sass.”
You simply quirk your eyebrows and give a small shrug before attempting to turn away. However, Ransom still had a hold of your wrists and he kept you rooted near by.
“Ransom, what...”
“Leave the dishes, the maid comes tomorrow. I pay her enough, she can deal with it.”
You scoffed, “you’re such an asshole.”
"Come to bed with me," he asked more than suggested.
Since your little tryst in his precious car a week ago, he'd been far more touchy-feely, needy even. And in your eyes, Ransom Drysdale didn't do needy. However, this neediness served a purpose. You were able to keep him soft in all but one place, manipulating his needs for your own.
“You want me to come to bed with you?” You playfully quipped, cocking your head to one side.
“You want me to beg or something, Y/N?” His voice lowered as he narrowed his eyes. “Because I can make it a demand not a request.”
“Not beg, no.” You ignored his threat. “But a please wouldn’t go amiss.”
His controlling hands moved your arms around his neck before they fell away to your waist. His forehead bent into yours and his nose brushed against the tip of your own. "Please, come to bed with me, baby," he whispered against you.
You were smirking inside as his lips met yours in a deep kiss, his tongue gently flicking through your lips and sliding against yours. 
“Since you asked so nicely.”
It was a quick swoop, one that completely caught you off guard as he pulled you off your feet, his arm around your back while the other was hooked under your legs. His lips were on yours as he carried you to the staircase, not ever missing a beat or step, his tongue gliding over yours as he walked.
You didn't know how the two of you had made it up to your bedroom, and without incident but, the next thing you knew, you were led flat over your bed, his body caging you in.
“You said I did well.” You looked at him and he blinked, his brow furrowing a little. “How well?”
Silently as you waited, hoping he would take the bait.
And he did.
“Very well.” his eyes searched yours and you bit your lip.
“Well enough for me to see them again?”
"If you want, maybe lunch with your mother," he answered, kissing over your jaw and down your neck between each phrase.
You stilled, shock hitting your system and just how easily he had offered that up, you hadn’t even had to try. Noticing your change in body language Ransom paused and looked at you. “What? Don’t you want to?”
“No, I mean yes, of course I do. I just wasn’t expecting you to say that. I mean...” you stopped yourself short of saying what you had been about to, that you were his damned prisoner and until a week or so ago hadn’t left the grounds at all in months. You swallowed as Ransom sighed.
"Trust, remember, baby," he leaned back on his knees between your legs. "Call her in a couple of days, set up lunch."
“And you trust me to do that?” You swallowed. “No stupid tricks or mind games?”
"I won't be far behind." There it was, the stipulation. That silent warning heeding a tone left unsaid. “That said, I’m kinda hoping we’re past the point of me having to remind you about certain things to make you come back.”
"I understand."
Ransom shook his head, licking his lips. “No, I don’t think you do.” 
There was a tone of sadness almost to his voice and you watched him, his eyes locked onto yours and then you understood.
This went right back to the core of all this. He wanted you to want to come back. Not to simply do it because you have to. It was the ever present chink in his armour, the one thing you’d been able to exploit.
And, if you were being totally honest, could more than likely learn to live with the situation if you could have some kind of grasp and control, because that’s what this was about. That ever present power struggle and desperation he has within him to be more than people simply assumed him to be.
In a twisted way, you were almost proud to see the difference in his behaviour over the last few months was insurmountable. Whether that was directly down to you or not, you couldn’t be sure, but something had made him tap into that part of himself that could show reasonableness, rationality and, dare you suggest it, compassion.
Whilst you knew you’d never forget how he had taken you, against your will, or the pain and violence he had inflicted upon your body, maybe, in time, you could forgive. 
Because he simply hadn’t known any better.
"I'm not going anywhere," you spoke softly, sitting up to caress his cheek. His evening stubble scratched at your palm.
His eyes squinted shut, holding back an emotional response to her promise. There was so much he wanted to say but he couldn't. He physically could not bring the words out from his throat. So he did what he had always done, or thought he could, and that was to show her. Show her what he wanted to say. His lips pressed into the palm of her hand and as her fingers rubbed along his ear and behind his head, his lips travelled the length of the soft skin of her forearm until he pressed a delicate kiss to the crook of her elbow.
Turning his head, he caught her lips in a soft kiss which grew deeper as he pressed his body into hers, grinding his hardness against her groin. He felt the exhale from her nose against his cheek as his tongue muted the groan from her throat. His free hand skated up her thigh, to the hem of her sweater dress, bunching it in his fist. At that point, her hand gently wrapped around his wrist and he stopped, pulling away to look at her, his brow creased in puzzlement.
“Let me.” She whispered.
He swallowed hard and gave a short nod. She sat up and he leant back as she did, her hand against his chest, guiding him how she wanted him. As her hands fiddled with his flies, his eyes never left hers. When she tugged on the waistband of his jeans, he raised his hips slightly to allow her to pull them down, taking his boxers with them and he gave a slight sigh at the relief his rock hard dick was now free from it’s constraints.
“Feel good?” She smirked at the sound he made.
He nodded, “yes”, his voice gruff and gravelly.
No sooner had she said it, she’d taken him in her mouth. Instinctively, he bucked upwards, his hands settling in her hair, head falling back against the pillow as he hissed.
When his hips rutted upwards a second time, she moved back, releasing him with a pop and he glanced down at her, his face full of frustration but she simply smirked at him.
“Stop moving." 
The control of the situation wasn't his, it was hers and he was fully aware of it as she changed her pace, quick-quick-slow and if he squirmed she stopped.
A roll of his balls between her hand made him shudder. “Jesus Christ,” he groaned, “fuck, Y/N!”
She responded by taking him to the back of her throat, and the noise that came from his was halfway between a growl and a whimper as it stumbled from his mouth.
On and on this went, and every time she brought him to the edge and he couldn’t control his movements she stopped. It was a delicious torture, but one he was fast reaching his limit with.
“Fuck, baby, I…” his hands raked through her hair as she bobbed up and down on his shaft, her tongue pressing against the thick vein on the underside of his cock. He moaned loudly, “I gotta…”
"No," she purred, kitten licking the slit in his head, the precum dripping onto her tongue. Her lips enclosed over him again, short bobs until she was making long strides at deep throating him. 
She squealed as his hands tightened around her hair, squeezing at the strands to pull her back but she kept her pace, his hips giving way to a violent thrust to the back of her throat as he came hard, his spend shooting deep, coating her inside. His chest heaved as he came down from his high, not letting up on his grip until he was done trembling in euphoria. 
Then in a beat he flipped her to her back and hand his hands over the waistband of her tights, "that wasn't smart, Sweetheart," he growled. 
His eyes flashed in challenge as she giggled and whispered, "I thought it was." 
The force of him tearing her tights as he pulled them away from her legs bothered neither of them, her thin panties soaked and leaving a wet trail down her leg as he removed them, had him salivating. 
"You think it's funny? I'm gonna see how you like it," he challenged. 
Ransom wasted no time in taking a fast swipe at her leaking cunt with his tongue and Y/N cried out as he flicked the tip of his tongue over her swollen and throbbing clit. Her hands went straight to his hair, her knees practically boxing his ears as she curled her body towards his ample assault. 
His long arm slid up her body, over her tummy between her beasts as his splayed his fingers open across her skin, trying to press her back into the mattress. As she complied, she gave a gripping tug to his longer locks and Ransom emitted an elicit growl against her pussy. 
"Jesus Christ," she cried out, the sound sweet in his ears. 
"You taste so fucking good, baby," he spoke against just above her mounded flesh, whilst his fingers sought a wet refuge. He wasted no time in sliding two in, middle and ring fingers, slipping in a first, then second knuckle deep then scissoring inside her until they were all the way in. 
His lips curled around her clit as hers had done to his head, humming over the bud of pleasure, a pressure she nearly exploded over. 
"Oh, no, you don't get to do that yet," he stated firmly. The command made her twitch under him, her breath audibly hitching in her chest. "You're gonna cum on my cock as I fill that pussy up."
"Fuck, Ransom, please," she begged. 
"It's not funny now is it?" He slipped away from her body, sitting back on his heels and removed his own sweater. "Get naked, Princess."
He watched as she struggled to strip of the heavy sweater dress she wore, a stark difference to the fearful prize he had to himself months ago. Now she was his and he loved every single moment of it. From her sassy, smart mouth to the way she took his dick on demand. Ransom slipped his pants away, the two of them both naked and awaiting what was next. He wanted to flip her onto her tummy, rail her from behind while she took it on her hands and knees, keening at him as he thrust into her. 
But instead, he spread her legs wide and slotted his thick cock between her legs, her ankles locking around his narrow hips as he thrust in and gave a naughty twist of his hips. Slow, deep, nasty ruts into her core bounced her tits just a little and he found the wanton cries of her need to be enticing enough to lap at her nipples and breasts, licking and nipping at her skin. Grinding into her as he licked and kissed his way up her neck to that spot that made her cave in at the base of her jaw, jointed just below her ear. 
Her hands wound their way into his hair again and she gripped the strands, giving a pull back, restraining his neck a bit before she let up, allowing his head to drop a pinch. 
Chills covered his sweat sheened skin as she whispered, "harder" into his ear. His body quivered and his stomach fluttered. 
"Fuck, yes." He pulled out and flipped her to her tummy, like he'd wanted to do before. "On your knees, baby. Let me see that pussy."
She positioned like he demanded, a little sway of her hips telling him she was ready. A swift spank to her rounded ass and she cried out as he slammed home. 
"Oh, baby," she mewled as he filled her from behind, bruising fingertips pressing into her hips. 
Her lips praising him, using his nickname for her on him ignited a fire in his belly, his hips snapping harshly against her, his balls slapping against her clit. But it wasn't his pace and the pressure building in his body that was causing him to bury deep inside her, his head rubbing that g-spot that was making her moan filthy words. No, it was the look she gave as she turned her head to just peer over her should the same minute he was throbbing to cum inside her. 
"I'm...fuck, fucking cum, baby girl," he whimpered, desperately holding back so she could cream over his cock. 
And cum she did, her pulsating walls gripping him in a tight squeeze as she pulled him in with a force, literally crying out his name as she came. Her body practically convulsing in pleasure as he filled her up with his seed. The two of them collapsing against the expensive sheets, his body led over hers, still sheathed inside her as they both sagged and panted. 
As if high on the throws of their ecstasy, Ransom kissed along her back with heavy lips and hooded eyes. He could taste the saltiness of her skin, the dampness of sweet sweat a leaving a wet coating over his lips. And when he could feel the blood return to his extremities, he ever so gently pulled out of her, his body sore and tired. She whined at the feeling of his weight escaping her body, but he was quick to fill that void, replacing it with the heat of his frame as he pulled her close, allowing her head to rest against his bare and sculpted chest. He pressed his lips onto the crown of her head. 
"Sleep, baby," he whispered. "Just relax and sleep."
***** For weeks things were good, maybe even really good. Ransom was giving you more freedom, not yet unattended, but you weren't locked away. He'd made do on his promise. 
You had a great lunch with your mother, at the Country Club, in which he'd set up. He'd driven you there, waited in the bar but could easily keep an eye on you. Whilst he might have had ulterior motives that were slightly more sinister than merely being there to keep an eye on you in case you had a panic attack (the excuse you gave to your mother), all in all you didn’t mind. You, too, didn't doubt he paid the waiter a hefty tip to stay nearby as he'd checked on your table more often than most or necessary, again, you didn't mind. 
But despite his hovering, a point you'd made when you'd returned, he promised he trusted you so to save the pains of an argument, you let it go. You'd kept your own promise, never to drop a hint to your mother or anyone else that you weren't less than a free woman.
As the days neared Valentine's Day, Ransom seemed to be more touchy than usual and more than once you'd caught him softly staring at you. His eyes conveying more emotion than they did. Not unlike the first few nights when things had drastically changed between you in November. And when the day arrived, you both exchanged gifts after an early morning wakeup call that you most certainly did not mind. Ransom seemed genuinely pleased with the new silk scarf you’d ordered, having thought it would be a nice replacement for the one he had left at the mansion and point blank refused to return to collect.
For your gift, he handed you a small white envelope. Giving him a puzzled look, you opened it and pulled out a small card.
‘In our favourite room you'll find, your gift my beautiful Valentine.’
Instantly you felt an uncomfortable cold feeling in the pit of your stomach and you swallowed a little. It was a clue, exactly like the ones he had set for you all that time ago on Halloween the previous year. But, as you blinked and looked at him, you saw the expectation on his face and had to remind yourself that this was different.
This was not the same man.
"Is it at least wrapped in a bow, so I know it's mine?" You asked and he smirked a little, leaning back against the headboard of the bed.
 "Trust me, you'll know when you see it."
With a final look at him, you climbed out of bed and pulled on your silk slip before you headed down the stairs. As soon as you’d read the clue, you knew he meant the study. But, when you opened the door, you started to wonder if you’d made a mistake as there was nothing there jumping out at you, at all.
You started rummaging through the stack of things on the desk, looking for anything that resembled a gift. In your haste, you accidentally knocked small stack of notebooks over the edge of the desk. You rushed to get them and straighten them up, hoping not to mess up the order of things he'd had piled together. The moment the leather-bound journal like book touched your fingers, a jolt of curiosity ran through you. 
You opened the cover and ran your fingertips over the dried ink that sat engraved on the pages, a bold and all capitalized print to the handwriting. Not a surprise from a man who's harsh overture played constantly on the surface. Your eyes scanned and scanned the scroll, a frown creased your brow as you registered the meaning of all his notes.
These weren't just any sort of notes, these were his footnotes for his book. And that now disorganized stack of papers that moments ago littered the floor, you looked at them again and realized there among the typed and printed pieces of paper, was his manuscript. 
Hesitating, you picked it up. The front page was plain bar the words. ‘Murder, He Wrote’ and you scoffed at the fact that was the title of the article that had gotten you into this situation in the first place. Mind you, he had said you were a muse of sorts so maybe that was his way of tribute.
You flipped through, skimming the pages, finding yourself strangely proud if you will, that he’d actually finished it, well what appeared to be the first draft anyway. It was indeed about a private detective, by the name of Arnie Bronze, who was hot on the tale of a missing woman called Lucy Roberts who had vanished in mysterious circumstances.
You skipped on a few pages, the narrative shifted to that of focussing on the so called killer, a man named Riley, and you realised that Lucy wasn’t dead as anticipated, she was being held captive. 
In Riley’s basement.
You felt your stomach clench as you focussed in on a small snippet of dialogue, one that was extremely familiar.
 ‘I like this,’ Riley toyed with the straps to the bra Lucy was wearing, his middle finger tracing the outline of the strap against her skin before his lips followed the same path.
‘You should, you chose it,’ her voice was quiet, but still there it was, that unmistakable undercurrent of disdain she carried for him visibly present, as always.
Riley merely chuckled, ‘like I chose you, huh.’ At that, she blinked and looked at him, and he flashed her a smile. Oh, if only she understood exactly why…
What. The. Fuck?
Was he writing about you? Or had he already written this and was merely acting out his sick fucking fantasy. The answer to that became apparent when you tossed the manuscript down and reached for his book of notes.
It was littered with note after note, graphic accounts of the things he’d done to you, along with little questions and observations, how he could turn that into passages for his book. Your breath began to quicken and you turned the pages faster and faster, not needing to read his notes in the slightest as you could remember every sordid little detail for yourself.
Eventually you found the last page. This one contained two simple lines, the first from the night of Harlan’s memorial when he’d arrived home completely soaked.
Memorial was a shit show, as anything is when the fucking Thrombey’s are involved. Y/N made hot chocolate. Held a conversation I actually enjoyed.
This contained no side note as to how this could be used within his book, almost as if it was simply a journal entry, but you didn’t really have time to dwell on that, as your eyes flicked to the line underneath which carried no date.
Original plan changed, no longer going to get rid of when purpose served. Storyline of book will diverge at this point.
'When purpose served'. Well, it didn’t take a genius to work that out.
You threw the book down onto the desk, the room swimming around you as both your hands covered your mouth in shock and horror. You were sick to your stomach, the bile acid in your stomach turning acrid, and you wanted to wretch. 
He’d meant to kill you.
“So, do you like my gift?”
The voice made you scream and you jumped, turning to face the doorway where Ransom was stood, his sweats hung low on his hips, arms folded over his bare chest as he leaned against the frame.
“What?” you blinked, swallowing, the word nothing more than a trembling whisper. “You mean you wanted me to find this?”
“You asked me about being my muse.” He shrugged. “As you can see, you were much more than that. Happy Valentine’s Day, Sweetheart.”
You couldn't hold back the gag in your throat and you quickly turned into the waste bin by the desk, spewing your empty stomach into it. The bile burned your throat as it came up. With a shaky back of your hand, you wiped away the remnants of your episode and leaned forward on the desk, your free hand palm flat against the mahogany.
You were disgusted, that much was painfully true, but you were now terribly afraid for your life. A feeling that hadn't come over you in four months. You felt just as you had that very night, terrified, alone, and fighting a sense of chill that crept through your body and deep into your bones. Your eyes, big and brimming with tears looked up at him and your mind went numb in processing the situation. No quicker than you had just vomited, you felt a pang of hurt, your heart ripping from your chest as everything settled within you. You had accepted this, this fate that had been laid out for you. You were accepting him and the life you were being forced to live. You accepted the beast that had begun to care. But he was merely a wolf in sheep's clothing, the true monster you'd always known to lie in wait just under the surface. 
Your brows creased and your heart raced. You felt the bubbling of a scream start deep in your churning belly, your own monster vying to climb its up your chest and out of your throat. You were angrily screaming on the inside long before your voice sounded to the outside, piercing the room in a shattering, blood-curdling banshee cry of anger. 
“This…” you picked up the notebook in your right hand, throwing it at him violently, “this is the reason you took me?”
“Yes.” He didn't even dodge the thickly bound object as it hit him square in the chest before falling to the ground. 
“You...fucking asshole.” You spat, angrily swiping your arm across the desk. The neatly stacked piles of papers scattered like leaves falling from a tree as they fluttered to the floor. “And to think, I actually started to believe myself that there was more to you than everyone said, that underneath all of that bravado and narcissistic, downright nasty bastard exterior there was something or someone that maybe, just maybe was worthy of caring for! ” Your voice was loud, echoing off the wall of his study as you screamed at him. “But you kidnapped and raped and hurt me in ways I never thought possible for what? So you could write a goddamned book?”
Hot tears coursed down your face as you trembled, staring back at the utter monster who stood before you, his face stony as you wiped at your eyes with the back of your hand. “And then you planned to kill me once I no longer served a purpose? Well, tell me, how long have I got?”
“It’s not like that anymore.” Ransom took a deep breath as he stepped forward. He was calm, too calm and instantly you took a step back. “That was my initial plan, yeah, but what I wasn’t banking on was how being around you would make me feel.” He swallowed as he licked his lips. “I couldn’t get rid of you like I originally planned once you served your purpose. Because I love you.” Your mouth dropped open at his confession, utter horror coursing through your veins as you realised what he was saying. The chances of you getting out of this were depleting by the second. He really was completely fucked in the head. “No, no you don’t!” You shook your head, “this...is not love, Ransom, this is obsession, it’s...” He cut you off as he surged forward, his lips pressing to yours. You placed your hands on his chest, shoving hard as you turned your face away, screaming loudly at him to leave you alone. In an easy movement he spun you round, his arms clamping around yours pulling them behind you as he held you in place, your back pressed to his chest as he pressed his lips to your neck. “I know deep down you love me too...” his breath was hot on your neck, voice still eerily calm as his hips pushed forward and you could feel his erection digging into the curve of your spine. “Fuck, this is what you’ve done to me, feel that, Sweetheart? You wrecked me, and now I need you. It’s that simple.” At that he pushed you forward, harshly bending you over his desk, one large hand securing both of yours being your back, your body twisted in a warped recreation of that time he’d used your sweater to restrain you all those months ago. You struggled but he simply twisted your arm further, causing you to cry out in pain and desperation as his other hand roughly hoisted up your night-dress. “You’ll say it eventually.” He stated calmly as you heard that tell-tale rustle of fabric as he pushed down his sweats. “It might take another spell in the basement to make you realise, but you’ll come round.” “It doesn’t work like that.” You sobbed, your voice cracking as his hand let go of your arms and slid up to your neck, reaching round your throat. His fingers curled round your neck as he pulled your head back, his mouth nipping at your neck before he pulled back, his face inches from yours as his icy blues stared locked onto your eyes. They were cold, dangerous and you shook your head, tears pouring down your face.  Your lip trembled as you closer your eyes, taking a deep breath before you opened them again, resigning yourself to the fact that this next line might just seal your fate and wind up with you losing your life. But right now, that would be a blessed way out.  “I can’t love you simply because that’s what you want.” “Oh Sweetheart,” he chuckled, his lips ghosting over yours, “I know that. I know I can’t force you to feel something you don’t, but the only person you’re fooling is yourself. I just want you to admit it.”
“I won’t.” You stuttered, “never, Ransom.”
“Oh, Y/N. Haven’t you learned by now? I always get what I want, including this, you’ll see.” With a harsh thrust forward he pushed inside you, making you scream at the burn thanks to the fact you weren’t ready for him, at all. He gave a groan as he grabbed at your hips, your pelvis jolting painfully into the edge of the hard wooden desk you were bent over. “As my granddad used to quote,” he pulled back before delivering another deep thrust harshly into you, his fingers digging into your flesh as you closed your eyes, scrunching them shut as your cheek rest against the desk, tears leaking from your eyes, “we all become stories in the end.” 
He gave another deep rut forward as he ground into you, his breathing deep.
“Now it’s time to rewrite ours, Princess.”
*****
Epilogue
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A Track-by-Track Breakdown of Taylor Swift’s 9th Studio Album: ‘evermore’
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“My collaborators and I are proud to announce that my 9th studio album and folklore’s sister record is here. It’s called evermore,” is how Taylor Swift introduces us to this album in its foreword. One might assume a “sister record” would entail b-sides, or tracks that didn’t quite make the cut for folklore, despite Taylor’s explanation that “we just couldn’t stop writing songs.” evermore’s release came at a strange time, upon the heels of the Folklore: Long Pond Studio Sessions film on Disney+, as well as 5 Grammy nominations for folklore. The world still captivated by folklore, it’s understandable why one might not consume evermore as critically. Even as a die-hard fan, I felt some whiplash by this announcement; I am still processing folklore! Hell, I’m still processing reputation!
If this was the Taylor from two years ago, this may have been a big enough fear of hers to hold off on releasing evermore. But as she explained upon folklore’s surprise release, life is too unpredictable now, and there are zero givens or guarantees. So she followed the same path this time (although making sure it fell in line with her birthday weekend). But it’s not just the strategic timing of the release that she’s thrown out the window for now, but also her mindset whilst making records. As she explains in the evermore album foreword,
“I’ve never done this before. In the past I’ve always treated albums as one-off eras and moved onto planning the next one as soon as an album was released. There was something different with folklore. In making it, I felt less like I was departing and more like I was returning. I loved the escapism I found in these imaginary/not imaginary tales. I loved the ways you welcomed the dreamscapes and tragedies and epic tales of love lost and found. So I just kept writing them.”
This is a revelation for Swift, to let the music lead her into artistic freedom, which is what makes evermore such a triumphant return. Truly folklore’s sister record, Taylor wrote evermore with the same creative team: Aaron Dessner of The National (Swift’s favorite band), long-time pal and collaborator Jack Antonoff, Justin Vernon of Bon Iver, and William Bowery aka Swift’s boyfriend, Joe Alwyn (as officially revealed in the Long Pond Studio Sessions). Additionally, former 1989 tour openers and close friends of Taylor, the HAIM sisters, join the crew, along with Marcus Mumford for some dreamy backup vocals.
The production is just as wistful and mesmerizing as it was on folklore, yet the storytelling on evermore is kicked up a notch, expanding on the topics and worldbuilding established in its sister record, with even sharper lyrics and an effective and elaborate use of alliteration. The best thing about Taylor is that no matter what she does, her masterful lyricism is always at the heart of her art, and somehow, she keeps getting better. Once again, I wanted to explore the rich stories she’s crafted in this woodsy universe. This is how I’ve interpreted the album, but I hope you find your own meaning in the songs as well.
1. willow It is fitting that the opening track to folklore’s sister album, where we wade further into the forest that is Taylor Swift’s imagination and storytelling, would center on the type of tree that is a symbol of hope, belonging, safety, stability, and healing. “willow,” one of the few more obviously autobiographical tracks on the album, is a hymn of gratitude for her man (as she wants you to know, yes, thirteen times), Joe Alwyn, and how the invisible string tethering them together pulled her to him in a time when everyone else was counting her out. Though not as present on many of the other songs later to come on this record, you can feel the lightness in her heart on this song as she embraces the way in which the willow has bent, wrecking her plans, throwing her into the water and leaving her happily lost and afloat in his current. The downward key modulation throughout the last two repetitions of the chorus is beautiful and very fitting for Swift vocally, but also sounds like the feeling of finding your comfort and settling into it, basking it in while you wait for the next place the wind pulls you. Best lyric: “Now this is an open/shut case / I guess I should’ve known from the look on your face / Every bait and switch was a work of art.”
2. champagne problems On the second track of the album, Taylor dives back into the fictional worldbuilding she began to explore on folklore. While on folklore high school relationships and dramatics took center-stage, evermore graduates from adolescence to young adulthood, not that it is any easier emotionally on the listener’s heart. “champagne problems” chronicles a rejected marriage proposal between two college sweethearts at their old dorm building. Taylor sings as the narrator, a reflective, self-deprecating young woman who jokes about belonging in a madhouse and dismisses all her turmoil as champagne problems. The term ‘champagne problems’ itself could have various meanings here: their trivial concerns, the fact that their “sister splashed out on the bottle” of champagne that they will not be using to celebrate as they had hoped, or perhaps it could even hint that excessive drinking is a piece of all the ways the narrator is “fucked in the head,” as they said. Although the person she is singing to is the one who got hurt in the story, the hurt in the narrator’s heart is just as palpable and relatable, because you only have yourself to blame when you self-destruct. Best lyric: “’She would’ve made such a lovely bride, / what a shame she’s fucked in the head,’ they said / but you’ll find the real thing instead / she’ll patch up your tapestry that I shred.”
3. gold rush On her YouTube live chat prior to the album’s release, Taylor explained that this song “takes place inside a single daydream where you get lost in thought for a minute and then snap out of it.” The daydream consists of a love story so pure that the town had never seen such a thing; it could only happen in a fantasy for the narrator. How could she possibly have the gall to call them out on their contrarian shit, or end up with her Eagles t-shirt hanging from their door, when they are so coveted by all, and when she cannot withstand the thought of even competing? She sings, “My mind turns your life into folklore / I can’t dare to dream about you anymore,” a sweet little connecting piece to this album’s older sister, effectively convincing herself out of the idea of jumping into the chaos of the gold rush because even inside her own imagination it’s too dangerous. Best lyric: “I don’t like that falling feels like flying ‘till the bone crush.”
4. ‘tis the damn season According to Aaron Dessner, Taylor had written the lyrics for “’tis the damn season” in the middle of the night amidst their Folklore: The Long Pond Studio Sessions recording after a long night of chatting and drinking with their co-conspirator, Jack Antonoff. The lyrics perfectly encapsulate the guttural ache the track evokes. It is a tale of two people who always find their way back to one another in their hometown, which acts as the ever-returning fork in the road. The path taken, back to L.A. in pursuit of her dreams, is the one she chose and continues to choose, but whenever she returns home, she takes a ride down the road not taken, just to get a taste of what could have been, even if just for the weekend. What starts off as an icy homecoming always transforms into the warmest intimacy. The success of this track is aligned with the success of Taylor’s entire career; even with such specific details, it feels so deeply personal to the listener. You know the street you’d drive along late at night laughing, the spot you’d park the car, the person who stars in every what-if. You will never really know if the road not taken is as good as it seems, but that might be ok; sometimes, the fantasy is better than the reality, anyway. Best lyric: “It’s the kind of cold / fogs up windshield glass, but I felt it when I passed you / There’s an ache in you / put there by the ache in me.”
5. tolerate it Inspired by the novel Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier, “tolerate it” is an agonizing track from the perspective of a devoted wife who polishes plates and paints portraits and waits by the door for her husband with a battle hero’s welcome, who at best tolerates all her adoration. There are few things as painful as idolization being met with indifference, when you have all this love to give to someone who just leaves it there untouched. “tolerate it” captures that desperation for the approval you know will never arrive, but you sit and watch, waiting for it just in case you’re wrong, but you know you’re not. Best lyric: “I made you my temple, my mural, my sky / now I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life / drawing hearts in the byline”
6. no body, no crime feat. HAIM “no body, no crime,” the one evermore song solo-written by Taylor, has the clearest plot from beginning to end. In the same vein as the female powerhouse country classic “Goodbye Earl” by The Chicks, Taylor is out for blood to avenge her friend, Este (named for one of the HAIM sisters). The story goes as such: Este’s husband kills her for calling him out on his infidelity, and then Taylor kills the husband and frames his mistress. The HAIM girls, who are long-time friends of Taylor’s and former touring mates, lend their vocals to reinforce the accusation on the husband and to provide Taylor’s alibi. “no body, no crime” is so far the closest we’ve gotten to a return to “country Taylor,” proving that she is still the master of a killer country tune (yes, pun intended, it had to be done I’m sorry). Best lyric: “Good thing Este’s sister’s gonna swear she was with me / (she was with me, dude) / Good thing his mistress took out a big life insurance policy”
7. happiness Written a week before the album’s release, “happiness” is one of Swift’s strongest and most reflective breakup songs. Although she writes it as though it is recent, there’s a lot of power in knowing that she’s been happily in love for four years, and that she is even better now at doing the thing that has always been best at. She is finally “above the trees,” as she sings, and is able to see it all for what it is, but her character is still in the heat of it all, trying to navigate the stages of grief when a relationship ends. We see the narrator grapple with many of those stages throughout the song. Most striking is the anger displayed in the second verse when she sings: “I hope she’ll be a beautiful fool who takes my spot next to you / No, I didn’t mean that, / sorry, I can’t see facts through all of my fury.” That section is jarring and feels like one of the most honest moments in a Taylor song, the insanely difficult emotional balancing act when we are grieving a relationship. The devastation of loss can distort our perception, and a part of that is the difficulty of understanding how multiple seemingly opposing things can co-exist in our hearts, such as happiness because of someone and happiness after them. But when you leave it all behind and finally find your place above the trees, you can find happiness after someone and also look back and appreciate the happiness they once provided. Both of these things can be true. Best lyric: “Showed you all of my hiding spots / I was dancing when the music stopped.”
8. dorothea Taylor Swift has the uncanny ability to create such developed and well-rounded characters with such little information, which is what makes her storytelling so compelling. In “dorothea,” we learn much about the title character through the narrator’s eyes, and the relationship they once had. The lyric “skipping the prom just to piss off your mom and her pageant schemes” alone tells an entire story in itself. “dorothea” is also the companion song to “’tis the damn season,” just from the other person’s perspective, which helps shine even more light on the story. The narrator of “dorothea” reveres her but wonders if she’s still the same soul in L.A. as she was back in their never-changing town. Whatever the answer, they’re still willing to support her no matter where she is, but she’s always welcome back in Tupelo by her hometown love’s side if she ever just wants to be herself rather than someone known for who they know. Besides, they’re the only soul who can tell which smiles she’s faking. And you can always return to the road not taken. Best lyric: “They all wanna be ya / but are you still the same soul I met under the bleachers? / Well, I guess I’ll never know / and you’ll go on with the show.”
9. coney island feat. The National What really started the folklore / evermore journey was Taylor’s love for The National. Taylor has cited them as one of her favorite bands for many years, and as we know, this led to her beautiful new collaborative relationship with Aaron Dessner. So it would make sense for the track written with the intention of this duet to be so well executed; you can feel the love and care Taylor put into writing this song. In her press for these sister albums, she has spoken about trying to channel frontman Matt Berninger’s writing style. But what actually happened was she just produced her own signature lyricism at its sharpest. “We were like the mall before the internet, it was the one place to be / the mischief, the gift-wrapped suburban dreams / sorry for not winning you an arcade ring over and over,” is a hall of famer Swift-ian lyric. “coney island” explores the confusion, hurt, and self-reflection when a passionate affair burns out fast because you did not prioritize that person. And to top it off, Swift and Berninger’s harmonies are achingly beautiful, transporting you right there in the story, on the bench, wondering, over and over. Best lyric: “Do you miss the rogue who coaxed you into paradise and left you there? / Will you forgive my soul when you’re too wise to trust me and too old to care?”
10. ivy Leave it to Taylor Swift to make a song about an affair sound so romantic, and so sympathetic to the narrator, that you’re rooting for adultery. “ivy” tells the tale of a woman in a lifeless marriage, likening her home with him to the tombstone that the widow in town visits each day. I like to think this is the same wife whose husband was out there building other worlds without her in “tolerate it,” because then that means she found someone who celebrates her love, who holds her pain for her, who blooms all over her; they started it, but she’s fighting for it all the way to the end, nonetheless. “ivy” showcases Swift’s gorgeous vocals and her sharp lyrics, with a melody so infectious it is bound to permanently plant its roots in your dreamland. Best lyric: “Oh, I can’t stop you putting roots in my dreamland / my house of stone, your ivy grows, and now I’m covered in you.”
11. cowboy like me With the beautifully blended backing vocals of Marcus Mumford, “cowboy like me” is an entrancing love story of two con artists who lost at their own game and got conned into forever with each other. She’d gone from swindling old men for their money and fancy cars to falling victim to the danger of dancing with someone who only has eyes full of stars, and she knows she’ll pay for it. “cowboy like me” is one of the most romantic tracks on the record, proving that life never plays out quite as we plan. Best lyric: “Now you hang from my lips like the gardens of Babylon / with your boots beneath my bed / Forever is the sweetest con.”
12. long story short One of the more pop-sounding tracks on evermore, “long story short” is pretty much a summary of the long story behind reputation (2017). The song is filled with various metaphors for her reputation crumbling around her, and then finally putting her defenses down to be with her lover, someone as “rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky.” It is a sweet ode to her boyfriend, and a gentle comfort to her past self that it will all work out. But it is also an oddly relatable example of how we shrug off our struggles and minimize them to just a “bad time,” when the time she is singing about was obviously something that deeply affected her (as will be further explored in the title track); but sometimes it actually feels good to just shrug it off as just a blip in your life, because at the end of the day, you survived, and that’s what counts- even if you’re not keeping score anymore. Best lyric: “Pushed from the precipice / clung to the nearest lips / long story short, it was the wrong guy. / Now I’m all about you.”
13. marjorie Whereas track 13 on folklore was a tribute to Swift’s paternal grandfather, evermore’s track 13 is a tribute to her maternal grandmother, Marjorie Finlay, who was an opera singer in the 50s, and passed away in 2003 when Taylor was 13 years old. “marjorie” is quite possibly the most touching track Taylor has ever written thus far in her career. Grief is one of the most difficult topics to tackle in a song; the genius of “marjorie” is that it is simple, yet not understated. Swift reflects on the profound lessons she learned from her grandmother, about the difficult balances of kindness and cleverness, and politeness and power. She curses herself for not cherishing the moments she had with her, for complaining rather than understanding in the moment how admirable her spirit was, for all the amber skies she’d love but will never see. The chorus, blunt and hard-hitting, reminds us that someone does not have to be living to be alive, to be all around, to be with us. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were singing to me now,” Taylor sings towards the end of the song, right before you hear a sample of Finlay’s opera singing in the background, a truly eye-swelling moment. It is clear that Finlay played a pivotal role in Swift’s own ambitions, as she sings, “all your closets of backlogged dreams, and how you left them all to me.” Marjorie knew she was leaving them in good hands. If you haven’t yet, check out the moving lyric video for the song, where you can see photos and video clips of Marjorie, both throughout her career and in her time with Taylor. Best lyric: “Never be so polite you forget your power, / never wield such power you forget to be polite.”
14. closure On the most experimental track musically on the record, Taylor writes off her need for closure from a relationship of some sort, whether it be romantic or platonic or business, all of which can cause hurt of equal intensity. The subject of the song is trying to make nice with Taylor, and she is just not having it, as it is not coming from a genuine place, but rather to ensure that their life remains picture perfect, or to clear their guilty conscience, or to preserve their own ego. This is a deeply relatable sentiment; as valuable as forgiveness can be, sometimes the person who hurt you just doesn’t deserve it, and all you can do is forgive yourself for blocking their number or shredding their letters. Best lyric: “I know I’m just a wrinkle in your new life / staying friends would iron it out so nice.”
15. evermore feat. Bon Iver To close out the standard edition of the album, Taylor joins forces once again with Justin Vernon of Bon Iver, with whom she collaborated on the Grammy-nominated duet, “exile” for folklore. However, Swift leads most of the track this time, lamenting the difficult time she went through in 2016. The piano and Swift’s vocals are haunting, particularly when she describes this time in her life as “catching my death,” consumed by a pain that she feels will never end. If you’ve ever been depressed, you know what that feels like, and the dark places it leads you. Although she is singing about a time four years prior, it sounds so present, and it is heartbreaking to hear her in such a state. When Bon Iver comes in, the tempo of the song picks up, the piano riff becomes more erratic, like a winter storm hitting you in the face, and he voices all the anxieties of the cost of such a downfall. But through those anxieties, Taylor finds not a cure, but an anchor in love, and then the tempo slows back down. By the end of the song, Taylor has the foresight to understand that although it may not feel like it now, the pain she is experiencing is not permanent (a sentiment my therapist has been trying to instill in me for years). In her Apple Music interview with Zane Lowe, Taylor explained how the lyrics parallel the times we are in currently, and so it feels really special to have the album end with someone who knows how it feels to be imprisoned by your pain gently comfort us with the wisdom that “this pain wouldn’t be for evermore.” I hope one day soon, as we leave 2020 far behind, we can all truly believe her. Best lyric: “I was catching my breath / barefoot in the wildest winter catching my death.”
16. right where you left me (bonus track) The first bonus track on evermore, “right where you left me,” captures a moment so earth-crushing, a piece of you is trapped in it forever. In this song specifically, the narrator finds herself stuck in the same corner of a restaurant where she was told by someone she loved that they had met someone else. “Glass shattered on the white cloth, everybody moved on,” she sings in mourning. We have all experienced those moments that we could teleport back to if we just closed our eyes; the scenery, what you wore, the smell and taste of the season, the very point in your body where it felt like your insides were collapsing. Or that one particular person, who is long-gone from your life but seeing them is like time-travelling back to that person you once were, ready to pick up where you left off. But as much as you want to stay in that moment forever, just in case it changes in your favor, the cold reality is that the world stops for no one. Best lyric: “If our love died young, I can’t bear witness / And it’s been so long, but if you ever think you got it wrong / I’m right where you left me.”
17. it’s time to go (bonus track) “right where you left me” was Taylor’s cry for help to get out of restaurant, and “it’s time to go” is the answer to the call, as she sings in the first line, “when the dinner gets cold, and the chatter gets old / you ask for the tab.” This song is about gathering the strength to leave situations and relationships behind that no longer serve you. She grieves the betrayal of someone she thought to be a twin from her dreams (almost definitely referring to former friend, Karlie Kloss), acknowledges that keeping a marriage together for the sake of the kids often actually has the opposite intended effect (possibly- but not certainly- something she and her brother experienced), and recounts attempting to bargain with someone consumed by greed, only able to leave with herself (absolutely referring to the end of her fifteen-year long business relationship with Scott Borchetta, her former record-label owner). But as painful as leaving all of those situations was, Taylor has gained the wisdom to understand that walking away sometimes takes as much strength as persevering. You can’t stay at the restaurant, or at the mercy of someone else forever; you have to forge your own path, even if it’s in the opposite direction of what you envisioned for so long. And even with all her past success behind her, as folklore and evermore have proved, there is so much more ahead of her. Best lyric: “That old familiar body ache, the snaps from the same little breaks in your soul / You know when it’s time to go.”
In a time where we are all trapped in our homes and in our heads, the folklore/evermore experience has been the sweetest escape. If anything, the creation of these wonderful sister records has taught me that our most powerful tool in times of distress is our own imagination. Even just the ability to close my eyes while listening to one of these tracks and feel the character’s story is a gift. The way I’ve always been able to pick up Harry Potter and escape to Hogwarts when I’ve felt alone and friendless, I can listen to folklore and evermore when I feel scared or hopeless and escape into this enchanted forest Taylor has built, where I can climb above the trees and see it all for what it is. I feel so lucky to watch Taylor’s imaginative world unravel around me. I can’t wait to see what she creates next.
DISCLAIMER – REVIEWER’S BIAS: I would literally die for this bitch.  
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ramblingguy54 · 3 years
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Sonic & Tails R: A Love Letter To Miles Tails Prower’s Characterization
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     Warning: This will contain massive spoilers for the short radio play series of Sonic & Tails R. If you haven’t listened to the radio play yet on Youtube, I’d highly recommend any hardcore Sonic fan who hasn’t seen it check it out. It’s one Hell of a treat.
     For as far back as I can remember in my childhood, Tails’ story of trying to step outta Sonic’s shadow has been such a resonating one for myself. Even when I was a much younger kid playing my Dreamcast, during entries like Sonic Adventure 1 & 2, there was some idea lingering about why Tails just stood out more emotionally in his journey to grow beyond depending on Sonic all the time for help. Now here I am a young adult in my late twenties having such a deeper appreciation of this little two tailed genius kiddo because he’s got an important element that’s made him so beloved for good reason.
     In spite of his genius being a rival to that of Eggman’s high IQ and of course proving to surpass it plenty of times when scenarios boil down to being a high stakes battle, Miles Tails Prower beneath it all is still just like any one of us. We’re all trying to find our place in this world about what defines us for who we are as unique people. He wants to be more than just seen as someone who’s alongside Sonic The Hedgehog’s never say die attitude, but prove he’s plenty capable of standing on his own two feet to protect everything the kid holds dear to himself. Underdog stories, when they’re naturally executed very well, can reel me in so easily. They are very much my bread & butter trope I adore seeing.
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     To no one’s surprise, the two Sonic Adventure’s iterations portrayal of Tails’ characterization are hands down some of my favorite writing for the two tailed fox, regarding what the 3D era has done toward him, development wise. It gave him more of an existential struggle to endure like, “What happens when Sonic isn���t around to help stop Eggman? What if I’m not strong enough to accomplish what he can?”, making Tails plight to be seen as an equal all the more endearing when stopping Eggman in his climatic battle against the Egg Walker in Station Square. This here is a great use of a timeless lesson you can apply in life that if you set you heart and mind on anything, there isn’t a thing you can’t accomplish on your own, which is why many fell in love with Sonic Adventure 1 & 2′s writing for Miles Tails Prower’s journey of independence.
     As someone who comes from a large family tree of relatives, I feel the weight of my existence on my shoulders at a number of points more than I’d care to count, admittedly. Seeing Tails struggle with his sense of purpose, in contrast to observing how much Sonic has accomplished with his carefree, yet deeply compassionate attitude, means the world to me in watching another trying to comprehend their value as a whole on how much they matter, overall. This is a big part of why my fondness for SA1 & 2′s quality has never wavered over these years, besides still obviously enjoying most of their game play mechanics. People can try to debate to their heart’s content on whether the Adventure games still hold up in their own eyes, but I’ll always respect them for how they tried to develop certain characters, such as Tails, Gamma, and Shadow The Hedgehog notably, to attempt expanding upon their characters, as well as world building.
     I won’t bother going into a rant about how Sonic’s recent 3D games have butchered Tails’ personality & relatable nature, due to the current writers in charge of handling the cast of characters. More or less, I greatly empathize toward the notion many have already stated about Tails being so cowardly and God forbid, looking at Lost World, downright severely mean spirited. Rather, I’m obviously writing this lengthy post to breakdown why Sonic & Tails R succeeds, where these certain 3D games have greatly faltered in exploring Tails’ emotional dilemmas as an insecure, yet still having the courage to prove himself, talented boy full of hidden potential he doesn’t quite realize, until his back is against the wall in life threatening situations.
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“That day, I realized I couldn’t depend on you forever. Not that I can’t depend on you, but like, “What happens when Sonic isn’t here?”, you know?”
     Sonic & Tails R further delves into this fundamental rule of what has defined Tails in Sonic Adventure 1 & 2′s stories of events where Sonic wasn’t there to aid his best bud in taking down Eggman’s evil efforts for global domination, most importantly his fear of defending the Earth without his role model. Besides what I already stated in SA1′s events in Station where he stopped the Egg Walker, as well as the missile Eggman launched from detonating before their climatic battle, Tails watched Sonic blow up in ARK’s capsule presuming him to be dead after Sonic imparted how much faith he has in the kid’s abilities to be truly strong in the face of any foe. Sonic & Tails R manages to use fan service in a way that doesn’t feel like “pandering” for the sake of it, using this past canon material to do more of an in-depth study about Miles’ anxieties of existing without Sonic.
     Wouldn’t put it past them if EmuEmi & crew were using SA2′s Sonic death fake out scene in that space capsule to further add trauma to Tails’ psychological attachment to Sonic, as well as his insecurities of depending on him too much, to boot. While it’s never obviously outright stated in their radio play, I definitely believe they were factoring this element into adding dramatic exploration for why Tails is so self-conscious about the worst case scenario of permanently losing Sonic. Watching Sonic supposedly die put Tails into a deeper state of self-reflection, so I very much enjoyed how they went using these past events to create a thorough exploration about him learning just as it’s important to realize you need to stand up for yourself without using someone else as a crutch all the time, it’s doubly important to remember there’s nothing wrong about asking someone for help when you’re about to be down and out with little options left.
     Sonic & Tails R beautifully builds upon the foundation these two games’ stories left behind years ago, creating new damn great material to explore with the most iconic characters of this cast, Sonic & Tails brotherly dynamic. I’ve been praising Sonic & Tails R out the wazoo for how well it captured Tails underdog story of overcoming death defying odds, but it managed to remind me how simply adorable and outright wonderfully endearing their brotherly chemistry is as a whole. This is a big friendly reminder Sonic isn’t all about being cocky wise cracking character making meta jokes left and right, but he can be plenty capable of showing serious compassion to anyone he values as an ally and friend. This is no greater evident, than with him verbally lifting Tails up in his time of need when he’s self-depreciating his own significance. It can be seen in Episodes 2, 4, and 7 giving Tails motivational pieces of advice.
    Episode 2 In Adabat’s Cavern
-Sonic: Wasn’t it your radar that helped us find these Emerald shards in the first place? How could you be slowing us down when you’ve gotten us this far?
-Tails: But, I...
-Sonic: I could never make something like that. You’re the smartest person I know, Tails. One way or another, we’ll figure this out, count on it.
         Episode 4 In Holoska After Helping Silver Save The Chao
-Sonic: So, what was that back there? At the cave, in Adabat? -Tails: What do you mean? -Sonic: Frozen stiff. Confidence shot. It’s not like you. It was more than feeling like you were “slowing us down”, right?
        Episode 7 Inside The Egg Carrier 3
-Sonic: Let’s split up! I’ll distract them and you can go after the energy source. -Tails: You’re gonna take them on all by yourself!? Let me help, Sonic! -Sonic: No time for this, Tails. Stop overthinking and just go! If I can get their attention, I’ll take the heat off of you and that room you’re going to probably won’t have any security. Take this emerald and I’ll take the other one we have. It’ll lead me right to you after I beat these guys. -Tails: O-Okay... -Sonic: Hold on, Tails! Listen to me. Don’t stop moving and be careful. I’ll be fine and so will you!
     Sonic & Tails R remembers the most crucial detail of their important relationship. One isn’t better than the other and needing to always rely upon that notion for helping one outta a jam, but instead showcases how they’re equals as a team/bros. Sonic may be super fast and strong, however Tails has his intelligence to analyze situations in a different angle Sonic wouldn’t necessarily consider, per say. Which isn’t to say Tails couldn’t put up a fight either, as we’ve seen in SA1 & SA2′s stories where he faced Eggman one on one with no outside help to best him at his own game of wits & strength.
     We get see the apex of this idea through Tails facing Eggman in his super improved mecha walker. Although Tails may get thrown for a loop here at first by Eggman, it’s his villainous speech about winners and losers in their world that ironically does the exact opposite of what he intended. Eggman wanted to crush Tails’ sense of self worth before finishing him off, but all it did was reignite the very lesson Sonic told him earlier before running to distract Eggman’s robotic minions. That said lesson of he’s more than capable of facing dangerous threats
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-Eggman: Poor boy. We all have to learn this lesson, sooner or later. In every game there’s no one you can depend on. You’re all alone and you’re either a winner, or a loser. And as you know, loser’s lose all of their lives. Say goodbye, fox!
-Tails: You’re wrong! I can depend Sonic! I won’t let him down! I can’t because...Because he’s depending on me! And because of that I won’t lose to you!
     This radio play strikes a good balance in utilizing the grey moral area about depending on someone vs it being an unhealthy display of attachment derived from serious insecurity. Word’s can’t begin to describe how much I loved this moment to pieces because it’s oh so important for writing Tails’ characterization. If you’re going to tackle him being super self conscious about his reliance on Sonic, then you gotta remember why they are so close to one another to begin with. Sonic & Tails have an unbreakable connection, considering they’ve brought out their best qualities in themselves from being together as individuals. For Sonic, it’s his older brother compassion to Tails to bring him outta feeling melancholy. For Tails, the kid finally understands there isn’t anything wrong with depending on Sonic when he needs it most.
     After all, that’s what a real healthy friendship is all about. Whether you’re giving someone a dose of tough love, or simply a piece of motivational advice, it defines how much you truly care about someone, period. Sonic & Tails have this very same power from their bond, which is why new emeralds form from their compassionate friendship that hasn’t been shaken after all the years they’ve been together. Another detail worth noting is it adds to the lore in an impactful manner when Tikal expresses in Episode 8 about positive connections and thoughts from users of the Chaos Emeralds having a strong will & heart. Using the ideas they had for encapsulating Sonic & Tails’ dynamic to create new emeralds from their love for each other as brothers adds an emotional weight.
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“So, Sonic’s not the only one who harness the power of the Chaos Emeralds? I can too!?”
“Yes, you have a strong heart! There is a power waiting to be unlocked within you, as well.”
          I’d always daydreamed about in my childhood seeing Super Sonic & Tails take down a threatening villain, whether it was Eggman or different powerful creature such as Chaos or the Biolizard. You can imagine how fucking giddy I was beyond belief to see this artwork of Episode 9′s cover for the radio play. Tails not only got to have another one on one with Eggman, but a team up with Super Sonic in his own respective Super form? Sign me the Hell up! Talk about an all you eat buffet of good writing for Tails’ journey reaching its climax. Getting to hear this play out, alongside the amazing song of Fly With Me, made it authentically feel like something straight outta if there were an installment of Sonic Adventure 3 being brought into reality, which certainly feels like it now.
     Episode 9 has so much awesome stuff with Sonic & Tails working together in their super forms. Particularly, my favorite scene is at the beginning when Sonic teaches Tails how to navigate his newly acquired speed in his respective Super form. My heart melted hearing Sonic help Tails through it all, while he was overjoyed about how fun this new form is for himself. Wholesome Sonic & Tails content is the perfect daily serotonin for me, easily. It’s an awesome fun fact to know they used a scrapped boss from Tails Tornado segment in SA1 for Eggman’s flying dragon three headed robot in their big final battle, once again using old canon material in a very effective manner to boost the quality of their fan made story.
     It’s been a real thrill to hear Mike Pollock play a straight forward serious Eggman making my day in more ways than one, considering that’s another thing I’ve been yearning for desperately besides Tails being a competent character again. His performance in Episode 9 when Eggman gave that speech about how long he’s been at odds with Sonic & Tails stubborn will power was simply excellent. The moment he told his mechanical dragon to crush them I got serious chills. That’s the Eggman I remember and grew up with. He could be a hammy villain sure, but Eggman wasn’t a doormat that could be swiftly beaten. Robotnik can be considered a serious threat in his own right and this radio play nailed it down to the very letter with how much he predicted their actions.
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“Sonic, all I ever wanted to do was be like you. You’re not scared of anyone or anything. I could never be like that. At least, so I thought. I grew from that, but then I got so caught up in trying to prove it that thought it wasn’t okay to depend upon anyone, especially you. I just didn’t want to be that scared little kid in Station Square anymore, but now I understand. It’s okay to depend on your friends. It all means is that we’re stronger together, so the next time Eggman comes back and wants to start any trouble with you, or any of my friends. Emeralds or no emeralds, he’s gonna have to get past me and he won’t!”
Sonic By Episode 1′s End: Aww, yeah! Adventure, here we come!
Tails By Episode 10′s End: Aww, yeah! Adventure, here I come!
Turn your thoughts into power. Be all that you can be.
     The ending legit got me choked up because what of they decided to do for wrapping up Tails journey in a poetic fashion. Having Tails go off on his own separate journey to grow more independence pulled on my heart strings perfectly. Very much so, as I’m transitioning slowly, but surely, into gaining more freedom to go out into the outside world in my own life. Concluding the story, by Sonic & Tails holding onto the two Emeralds their bond had formed from positive energy, due to their powerful friendship, was so heartwarming. This is how you write an overview of what makes Sonic & Tails chemistry work so well as it does.
     Sonic & Tails R’s ending represents while some things never change, like Sonic and Tails bond for each other, it also shows there’s very much a necessity for people to grow, hence Tails’ whole solo journey in the epilogue. People can’t stay in the same place forever and will need go about finding their own path, even if it means saying “goodbye” periodically for a notable amount of time.
     It’s for these reasons I’ve listed in great explanation above throughout this detailed post cement Sonic & Tails R high on my list of favorite Sonic fan projects. They captured the magic of what made the Adventure games so beloved. Gonna be looking back on this passion project for many years to come. Everyone involved in this year long effort of a project dating all the way back Summer of 2020 ought to be immensely proud for how much their hard efforts paid off in the long run.
Thanks for taking the time to read my thoughts here! 
Hope you enjoyed. 
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renegadewangs · 2 years
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Van Zieks - the Examination, part 11
Warnings: SPOILERS for The Great Ace Attorney: Chronicles. Additional warning for racist sentiments uttered by fictional characters (and screencaps to show these sentiments).
Disclaimer: (see Part 1 for the more detailed disclaimer.) - These posts are not meant to be taken as fact. Everything I’m outlining stems from my own views and experiences. If you believe that I’ve missed or misinterpreted something, please let me know so I can edit the post accordingly. -The purpose of these posts is an analysis, nothing more. Please do not come into these posts expecting me to either defend Barok van Zieks from haters, nor expecting me to encourage the hatred. - I’m using the Western release of The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles for these posts, but may refer to the original Japanese dialogue of Dai Gyakuten Saiban if needed to compare what’s said. This also means I’m using the localized names and localized romanization of the names to stay consistent. -It doesn’t matter one bit to me whether you like Barok van Zieks or dislike him. However, I will ask that everyone who comments refrains from attacking real, actual people.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10
Bring on the game's credits! BRING IT! The Resolve of Ryunosuke Naruhodo part 2 is here!
Episode 2-5: The Resolve of Ryunosuke Naruhodo, part 2
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This is the first time in a while that I actually want to try other options to see what happens. The 'accusation' leads to some witty banter with a frustrated Stronghart, but 'report' is one that gets a reaction from Van Zieks himself. Ryu theorizes that 'since Klint was a well-bred and fastidious man, and knowing the end was near, he might have wanted to tie up some loose ends in all of his outstanding business'. Van Zieks immediately replies that his brother had no outstanding business.
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DID I JUST GET PENALIZED BY THE DEFENDANT??? Just for implying his brother might've had some loose ends to tie up? Van Zieks really hates it when people show his brother even the slightest bit of disrespect, huh? Well, it's about to get a whole lot worse. Let's go for the confession option! Van Zieks definitely doesn't take kindly to this one.
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“What are you saying? Do you even realise?! A confession...about the true identity of the Professor... That, that would mean...”
He fumbled his speech, there. We've never heard him do that before. And he's gone back to that bobbing, unsteady animation halfway into the above dialogue. Ryu insists it's the only explanation that fits. The man who murdered those members of the aristocracy wasn't Genshin Asogi at all, it was the one believed to be the fifth victim, Klint van Zieks himself.
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Welp. We broke him. Stronghart remarks that Pandora's box has opened at last, making it clear he already knew what we just revealed. The gallery is outraged.
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We've gone from well-bred to thoroughbred, have we? Susato feels very bad for Van Zieks, but Ryu asks himself whether such a brilliant prosecutor never suspected “what his older brother really was”. To clear up doubt further, he asks whether Klint Van Zieks owned a dog. Barok doesn't intend to dodge the facts of the situation, it seems.
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Not what the concept art says, but it's possible Klint owned a different, smaller dog before Balmung. Van Zieks talks about how loyal the dog was and how it wore a jewel-studded collar which was stolen from the house “some years ago now”. This implies it was less than ten years ago, and must've been kept in the house as a keepsake even after Balmung passed away. Ryu and Susato bring up that they've seen such a collar; it was Selden's loot in case 2-2. They note the fancy B emblem on it, and this is the first time we find out that Klint van Zieks was a married man. His widow's maiden name was Baskerville. It's a little odd to me that for someone who thought so highly of his brother, Van Zieks never mentioned his sister in law before now. Conveniently, it never came up for the sake of a twist, I suppose. Either way, the emblem confirms the collar they saw was Balmung's. Ryu notes there was a considerable amount of blood on the collar (nobody washed this thing?) and while it could've come from typical hunting trips, it could just as well have been human blood. With that, the gallery begins to lean towards the truth that Klint van Zieks really was the Professor himself. Stronghart seems to have realized there's no way out of this now and announces that 'they may have the truth'.
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Here comes that 'true nature' thing again, just worded a bit differently. Van Zieks doesn't intend to shirk away from it, though. He's open to the insinuation that his brother was, in truth, something truly horrible. Stronghart explains that Klint attempted to fight the growing darkness in London, only to end up being consumed by it. He also admits that after the fourth victim fell, Genshin showed up at his office, putting forth the accusation that Klint was the Professor. He didn't have any evidence and needed a warrant to get some, but Stronghart refused to anger the aristocracy based on the accusation of a visiting student, so he sent Genshin away. As a result, the man headed over to the Van Zieks mansion and Klint perished. Stronghart continues to admit that he was responsible for pinning the Professor's crimes on Genshin, right down to ordering Gregson to fabricate evidence. Sure enough, the late inspector's earlier claims ring true: it seems he did genuinely believe Genshin to be the killer, but was reluctant to falsify anything until Stronghart strong-armed him into it. The jailbreak agreement was also part of Stronghart's plan; he manipulated Genshin into agreeing by proverbially dangling his 14 year old son in front of him. Van Zieks brings up one more point: that Stronghart was the mastermind behind the Reaper organization. Not only does he admit to it, he calls it a “brilliant idea” and even takes credit for how his “minions” worked tirelessly to ensure Van Zieks was never accused of being the Reaper himself. What a smarmy bumhole. He insists it was all for the preservation of law and order across the empire, and the gallery is actually suckered into falling for this ploy. It seems as if he's going to get away with his masterminding without decent consequences. Kazuma now has one more question for Van Zieks, and it's the exact one Ryu asked himself earlier; did he never have any doubts about his brother?
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“My brother's sense of justice was extremely strong. Perhaps...too strong, I observed. […] During the time of the Professor killings, my brother did not appear to be himself. But it was only once. Not more. Klint wasn't the culprit. That was my conclusion at the time. And I still believe that now. […] The third victim...was the Lord Chief Justice at the time. It was he who had recognized my brother's potential and trained him as a prosecutor. No matter what the circumstances, it's unthinkable that my brother could have killed his friend and mentor!”
So here, we learn that Klint wasn't an infallible paragon of virtue in his brother's eyes. Simply by saying that his sense of justice was “perhaps too strong”, a flaw is being brought to light. Younger Barok saw that Klint's need to ensure justice was overpowering him, and he also saw that during the time of the killings, something was off about his behavior. Enough to have the younger Van Zieks consider, for a brief time, that perhaps the Professor was him. However, the death of the third victim was like a lifeline to him, a flotation device keep him from going under- or perhaps more like a straw to grasp. It offered a sort of justification to him; a firm belief that Klint would never kill his own mentor and therefore he couldn't possibly be the Professor, and Barok was wrong to ever doubt him. However, it was just a very meager excuse to put his suspicions at ease and blind him to the truth. There are, after all, plenty of reasons why Klint would kill that Lord Chief Justice if indeed he were the Professor.
So Stronghart now tries to wrap everything up with a neat little bow, saying that's all the truth they'll be able to get from this trial and he'll present himself at the Ministry of Justice for whatever sanctions are deemed necessary. Since he's the Lord Chief Justice, I can't imagine the Ministry of Justice will give him more than a slap on the wrist. However, he says just a bit too much in his closing statement and Ryu jumps on that immediately. A third page of Genshin's will was hidden from everyone! Turns out, it was a personal message to Kazuma that they never bothered to send to Japan. Governor Caidin conveniently brought it with him and the contents are read aloud after some pressuring. With this last secret message left behind by Genshin, Ryu manages to find Klint's last will and testament hidden inside the Asogi clan's sword. GASP.
Oblivious to the shenanigans playing out in the Court Record section of the game, Stronghart once again tries to end the trial and even goes so far as to say Klint was basically insane when he took his mentor's life (to which Van Zieks objects fiercely). Ryu interjects, saying he has one more piece of evidence to present. When Stronghart calls the very notion absurd, Van Zieks once again raises an objection, pointing out that “this gentleman has an uncanny habit of producing evidence at the final hour that had escaped everyone else's attention.” Which, y'know, is true. That's how Ace Attorney works. I do want to draw attention to the fact that he said “this gentleman” as opposed to “this Nipponese” or even something like “this barrister”. He considers Ryu a gentleman now! So with that, Ryu has the opportunity to shove Klint's will in everyone's face and things escalate very quickly.
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Ooh, his speech faltered again. He is shook! And it gets even better when he gets a closer look at the document.
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Stronghart panics and demands Ryu hands the document over to him at once. When that fails, he even tries to forcibly adjourn the trial and get everyone to clear the courtroom. If that isn't suspicious, we don't know what is. It sure is satisfying to watch him squirm. Naturally, he can't actually put an end to the trial now- not with so many people watching, so the document is read aloud. It's revealed that Genshin challenged Klint to a duel, so that he might “depart this world with honor”. Klint goes on to write that he finds himself undeserving of this honor and that “the Japanese are a truly merciful people”. So here, already, we get the final nail in the coffin for Van Zieks's entire motivation for racial prejudice and for hating Genshin in particular. Klint never thought ill of Genshin, not even in his final moments. If anything, he was grateful for being put out of his misery and being allowed to 'depart the world with honor'. Genshin's actions were not betrayal; not ever. They were merciful. (COOL MOTIVE, STILL MURDER.) What we also learn is that while Klint did indeed take the life of the first victim on his own accord, he was then immediately identified as the culprit and blackmailed into the next three killings by someone else. You guessed it, it was Stronghart! Despite his earlier panic, he now has a myriad of justification ready, talking about how sacrifices have to be made for the sake of justice and whatnot. He also explains that he was the one who pressured Jigoku into shooting Genshin in the graveyard when Drebber showed up there. He acts like Jigoku is the only one to blame, but considering Stronghart was basically screaming in Jigoku's ear, I wouldn't be surprised if this poor man pulled the trigger by accident simply because he was startled by the shouting. Stronghart was the one who decided that Genshin needed to die and forced Jigoku to act, so Stronghart is the one ultimately responsible. Naturally, Ryu and Kazuma both attempt to argue Stronghart's justifications into the ground. At one point, Stronghart plays the victim card and asks them to acknowledge his 'struggle', but Kazuma insists that this jerk has done nothing and:
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WELL. Okay. Looks like we've finally convinced Kazuma that Van Zieks is a victim in this whole ordeal, as well as someone who 'acts justly'. That's a wonderful way forward. With all this out in the open, though, Stronghart offers a literal round of applause. It's true; he's “done nothing” and “merely been surrounded by fools who've acted very rashly indeed”, which means he can't be charged with any crimes. We can't even prove he threatened anyone into doing his bidding, as he says it might as well have been “bargaining”. Thing is, bargaining with someone to end a third party's life is known as “contract killing” and is, in fact, illegal. I can't find any sources to verify whether it was already illegal in 1900 England, but I can only assume so, or people would've gotten away with murders very easily. I guess the bottom line here is that we can't prove Stronghart really did extort or pay anyone to take a life, since there's no material evidence for that sort of thing, nor anyone who can testify on it. Stronghart claims that the minutes of the trial will be heavily redacted to remove matters not related to Gregson's death, in the interest of preserving law and order, as well as to protect the queen. The gallery has now turned against us as well, chanting Stronghart's name.
Here we have a singular opportunity to deviate into the closest thing to a bad ending this game series has. Anyone who remembers the iconic 'the miracle never happen' ending in AA2, or even the bad endings in AA5 where either Trucy or Athena is implied to be killed by Aura, will be sorely disappointed by this one. First, to compare... In the standard ending, no matter how far along you've gotten in the trial- including proving that Stronghart was the Reaper- Van Zieks will still be found guilty. Stronghart will utter the words that he “would like to think however misguided, [Van Zieks] acted out of a sense of justice nonetheless”, and then pronounces the poor man guilty of crimes we've already proven were never committed by him. Now, in this slightly different ending, if you run out of all your penalty points because you fail to present Harely, the dialogue is tweaked. Stronghart declares that for the sake of justice, “the only correct course of action has been unanimously acknowledged by the clear majority here present. All mention of that which has been discussed in this courtroom today will be struck from the records. Barok van Zieks – Or should I say, Reaper of the Bailey... The heinous crimes committed by your brother, Klint van Zieks, will be lost in obscurity, this time forever. May you also find peace now as you join your sibling in the eternal darkness.”
And then, just as in the standard ending, Van Zieks is pronounced guilty and the doors slam shut. So effectively, the only real difference here is that Stronghart really rubs it in our faces that Van Zieks is taking the fall as the Reaper in the eyes of the public. He knows Van Zieks isn't the Reaper- everyone present in the courtroom knows it. However, since the entirely gallery is siding with the real mastermind, the minutes of the trial will be confiscated and destroyed so that the truth will be lost forever. Neither Kazuma nor Ryu reacts to this turn of events on-screen, which is a shame. Van Zieks doesn't fight the adjudication either, he simply accepts the verdict in silence- Hang on, where have we heard that before? Genshin? And didn't Van Zieks say that so long as his death served a purpose, he wouldn't mind dying over being called the Reaper? Stronghart certainly seems to feel that Van Zieks ought to be thrown under the omnibus and sent to the gallows for the sake of minimizing crime in London.
But we're not going to let the true antagonist of this game get away with his bullshit! Time to pull Harely's ears! Cue another (S)Holmeus Ex-Machina where it turns out the entire secret trial has been livestreamed to the Queen of England through holograms. By royal decree, Stronghart is stripped of his title and will be prosecuted for his crimes at a later time. FINAL BOSS, DEFEATED.
With Stronghart out of the way, Van Zieks has some closing sentiments to offer.
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“Is that my brother left this world without a word to me.”
I can see why that might bug him. Van Zieks always looked up to his brother and shielded him from disrespect even a decade after his death, but Klint in turn didn't seem to want to leave any parting sentiments for him, not even a simple farewell. That's not the case, though! Susato points out there's actually more to Klint's will than was read aloud, so let's hear it now.
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“Barok, you have always looked up to me, and now, you follow in my footsteps to become a prosecutor. It is my fervent wish that my unspeakable deeds should not hinder your advancement. I ask not for understanding, for none could understand my depravity. I ask only for forgiveness. Asogi is a fine detective, and a hunter worthy of respect. He has agreed to honour my final two wishes. The first is that this document survives. The second... I cannot commit to paper. I have confessed my sins to my wife. May she find resolution in my death. With my eternal gratitude to my Japanese friend, I rest my quill.”
Imagine how different things would've ended if the will had found its way to Van Zieks shortly after Klint's death. It would've prevented so much grief and so much prejudice, because if Van Zieks had learned that Klint still regarded Genshin with so much respect and gratitude even in this situation, he would never have blamed him for Klint's death nor considered it too great a betrayal. Everything that happened was in line with Klint's wishes. As it stands now, the words in Klint's will basically serve to scold Van Zieks for his attitude and hatred these past ten years.
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Yep, there we go. The final straw. He's been truly, utterly embarrassed and made to confront his mistakes. When Stronghart explains how his ambition to become Attorney General is what prompted him to silence people like Watson and Gregson. Van Zieks asks him whether he ever bothered to count the number of brilliant people he had killed. Kind of a questionable remark, since Stronghart mostly had criminals killed. We don't even know for sure whether Watson was a good person or not; he comes across as a cowardly skeeve. I guess Van Zieks is mostly talking about Genshin, but even that is... Uh...
I received an Ask a while back, bringing up the matter that Genshin appears to be exonerated of any wrongdoing when the truth of Klint's death is revealed. That despite duels being outlawed and it being literal murder, Kazuma seems to take this truth as his father's name being cleared. Indeed, going over everything we've learned so far, it feels as if the narrative has set up both Klint and Genshin, and even characters like Jigoku and Gregson, as victims of Stronghart's manipulation. The thing is, though... Both Genshin and Klint took at least one life of their own free will, Jigoku pulled a trigger twice for the sake of his own career (and recruited someone into an assassin plot), Gregson conspired with a notorious assassin to commit over a dozen murders just because his boss told him it was the right thing to do... Feeling bad about murder or resorting to it because 'the other person is even worse and needs to be stopped' doesn't change that it's murder. It doesn't seem as if Kazuma or anyone else outright says their loved ones are absolved of any responsibility/their names are cleared, but it does really come across as if the narrative wants you to forgive them. So uh... Yes. This is something the game should have properly addressed, instead of just going 'oh, these poor people, all used as puppets by the final boss'.
Anyway, (S)Holmes takes the time to remind Van Zieks that he's the defendant in this case, not the prosecutor. Our old friend Santa Judge returns for the adjudication! Turns out, he was in the gallery all along. (Was he chanting Stronghart's name too?) He talks about how the darkness of the past ten years has lifted, in part thanks to a bright young star from the East. Awww, we've completely won over the judge! Van Zieks now also has something to add.
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“I had the faintest of intimations. That if British justice, so warped and twisted over its long history, was finally to know change... This might just be the man to do it. But at the time, I wouldn't allow myself to acknowledge the possibility. I couldn't overcome my hatred of the Japanese, after the circumstances of my brother's death. Mr. Naruhodo...”
He takes a flourishing bow here, an acknowledgment that Ryu is worthy of his respect and perhaps even that Ryu is superior to him, then stands up straight again for the final whammy.
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Ryu is shocked and Susato is brought to tears. We did it, y'all. We've secured the full, heartfelt apology. I'm not sure there's really anything to add to this, nor anything we could want from it at this point in time. Ryu doesn't say he forgives Van Zieks for his discourtesies, but considering how hard he worked to get this guy cleared of murder, that would feel kind of out of place. The forgiveness happened long before Van Zieks apologized, or so is the implication. (Is that the correct narrative path? Not at all, but I'll get back to that in the conclusion.) So after some more closing words from Ryu, Van Zieks gets his not-guilty verdict and court is adjourned.
In the defendant's lobby, Ryu feels a bit conflicted about how this whole thing went down. Susato tries to cheer him up by saying that everything will seem much better once he sees Van Zieks's smiling face. Indeed, in most other Ace Attorney games, this would be the point where at last, an emotionally distant defendant/witness drops their walls and allows themselves to smile (or cry). Just think of Gina, Lana Skye or even Athena Cykes when she cries tears of joy during AA5's ending. Hilariously enough, Van Zieks is not one of those characters.
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This is a really fun subversion of expectations and Ace Attorney tropes. And I still believe his face got frozen like that. Even so, he's got something heartfelt to say.
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“For you to have risen to the level of excellence you demonstrated today... Well, it's quite remarkable.”
Sounds like a hatchet job of a compliment at first glance, but the sentiment is there. It is extremely remarkable for a foreign exchange student who's only been in the country for about 9 months- and who only spent like 2 of those as an active lawyer- to rise to such a level that he not only uncovers the truth of the current case, but of a cold case from 10 years prior, which was part of a huge cover-up. Ryu points out that he exposed a most 'unpalatable truth' in court and that he feels as if he robbed Van Zieks of something precious. Van Zieks doesn't seem to agree. He reminisces on Stronghart's words.
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“But that... That was just the feeble excuse of a coward. Only those with a steadfast eye for the truth have what it takes to fight the dark forces of crime. You made fine work of establishing that fact in court today.”
So once again, he's complimenting Ryu's courtroom performance. Not only that, but he's acknowledging (in different words) the earlier sentiment that the truth needs to come out, no matter how painful. Perhaps, indirectly, he's calling himself a feeble coward as well. Ryu and Susato are proud of Van Zieks's growth, with Susato saying that surely Kazuma would be smiling if he were here. Naturally, when he shows up at that very second, he isn't smiling at all. Like mentor, like disciple! Kazuma takes a polite bow before Van Zieks and congratulates him on his acquittal. Naturally, after watching Kazuma prosecute so ferociously for two whole episodes, that doesn't feel sincere. Van Zieks asks him whether he doesn't instead want to curse him. Kazuma apologizes for his earlier behavior, which does feel 100% sincere.
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“Your father, Genshin... If I had been stronger, then perhaps... I made an unforgivable error of judgment. … I can offer no excuse.”
One more apology to add to the pile! And here we once again reach that question of whether the narrative is acting like Genshin should be absolved of all blame. In a technical sense, Van Zieks wasn't wrong to prosecute Genshin, since he did seriously murder Klint. That alone is already warranting of the death penalty, so the added crimes of the Professor on top of that don't change too much. However, I don't think Van Zieks's lines truly relate to the Professor trial itself. The error of judgment, in my eyes, can also be seen as the blind acceptance that Genshin betrayed him (as well as Klint) when there was actually far more at play. This notion that Genshin was a horrid traitor who abused their trust and hospitality was then allowed to grow into an irrational hatred which festered for a decade. Regardless of whether Genshin killed Klint, the insistence that the man's true nature was that of a monster was wrong, and I think that's what he's apologizing for. To be clear, he's not apologizing for racist sentiments uttered towards Kazuma or anyone else from Japan with these lines. This purely relates to his treatment of Genshin. However, he already apologized for his many discourtesies back in the courtroom and I think the racist outbursts were part of those discourtesies.
Kazuma says he can offer no forgiveness, which is totally fair. Kazuma isn't obligated to forgive this man. He does, however, admit that he has respect for Van Zieks, since he “fought for justice and the truth”.
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Awww! Remember how in my very first 'strong thought about Barok' post, I pointed out that Barok almost appears to have been designed to be Kazuma's rival prosecutor instead of Ryu's? Yeah. Here we see it very clearly. The reconciliation conversation between these two feels like a much better resolution than the conversation between Van Zieks and Ryu.
So now Kazuma brings up that Genshin promised to do two things for Klint, but the second wasn't mentioned in the will. Mikotoba shows up to share a very heartbreaking tale about Klint's unnamed widow, the lady Zieks-Baskerville, who was hiding out in Dartmoor and passed away from childbirth very shortly after Genshin was executed. The newborn baby girl survived, though! Van Zieks blurts out that that makes no sense. “Why on Earth wouldn't Klint have entrusted the child to my care in that case?!” And that alone is already kind of tragic, but what really packs a wallop is this:
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This means Klint and his wife deliberately kept the pregnancy from him. It's never explained why. Genshin showed up at the manor in the spur of the moment and Klint died that very same night, when his wife must've already been around 8 or 9 months pregnant. (she gives birth about a week or two later, after all.) Klint says that he 'confessed his sins to his wife', but that also must've been very recent, if not that very same night, since Stronghart was threatening to tell Klint's wife and brother of his misdeeds. Stronghart's hold on Klint would've weakened if he'd told her the truth months ago, which in turn implies the both of them decided not to tell Barok while she herself was still oblivious to the Professor truth. Honestly, it all feels like a vague plotconvenience.
What is explained is why the newborn baby wasn't entrusted to Van Zieks. It isn't because Klint had the amazing foresight to know his younger brother would become a salty, loner alcoholic; it's because he and his wife feared the truth of the Professor might come out. Heck, if Genshin had never been arrested for Klint's death, perhaps it would've come out for certain. “The girl would be forever branded as the daughter of the infamous mass murderer.” So the baby girl was distanced from the Van Zieks family as much as possible, with all of London unaware of her existence. This girl is, of course, Iris.
Right on cue, the Harely plushie activates to receive a call from (S)Holmes and Iris. She invites everyone over to 221B for a feast and makes sure to invite “Mr. Reaper” too. He very awkwardly declines the offer.
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Humanization? Humanization! He does, however, give Iris his word that he'll present himself at 221B in the near future to express his gratitude. I think a big part of why he declined the offer was because he wouldn't feel at home during the big celebration when a whole group of people is there. He'd much rather visit Iris during a more quiet, private moment and that's sweet too. Plus, I don't think he's in the mood for a celebration, considering all the horrible truths he's learned in a single day.
So now Kazuma prepares to leave and asks Van Zieks to accompany him. The wording of “would you care to-” makes it very clear this isn't a demand, it's a very soft request that Van Zieks is free to decline. Not that he hesitates for even a second. Here's some more parting words.
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“I believe... You saved my life.”
He takes a deep, flourishing bow and honestly I've lost track of how many times he's praised/thanked Ryu by now. More than Edgeworth thanked Phoenix, most likely. The prosecutor duo prepares to walk away, but Ryu calls after Van Zieks, asking him to wait. Which he does. Ryu asks him what he intends to do now.
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... “Prosecutor van Zieks chooses death”??? In a way, he's thinking of pulling a similar move. He intends to publicize the full truth of the Professor, and I can only imagine that includes Stronghart's involvement in what went down 10 years ago. Maybe he'll even share the truth of the Reaper who's haunted the courtroom all these years. He believes that “once that's done, the Van Zieks family will be ostracised completely from London society.” (I don't think he means living family members, but rather, the legacy of the Van Zieks name and the rights associated with it.) So because of that, he intends to leave the capital as soon as he's free of his employment. Considering how easily this man took a five year sabbatical and adding in the fact that the Lord Chief Justice just got arrested, I expect his resignation could be as easy as packing his desk and leaving his office without saying a word. Kazuma, however, calls him a fool and a coward. He basically dares Van Zieks to keep going now that he's finally freed from the pseudonym of the Reaper. Van Zieks neither agrees with the sentiment nor shoots it down, instead saying it's unexpected to hear those words from Kazuma of all people. With that out in the open, they leave for realsies.
Just as Van Zieks doesn't attend the Baker Street party, he isn't there when Ryu's at the docks to return to Japan. I like to think Kazuma did bother to tell Van Zieks that Ryu is leaving the country, because withholding that information seems like a bit of a jerk move, but... Well. Not showing up at the docks to say some final farewells is even more of a jerk move on Van Zieks's part. Though it's possible he felt he wasn't wanted there, and may eventually ask for Ryu's address so he can write a letter (which is far less imposing than invading a heartfelt farewell with a scowling face). It's a shame, though. I would've liked to hear his thoughts on Ryu's departure.
We learn that Kazuma will “stay in Lord van Zieks's tutelage for the time being” to become a full-fledged prosecutor. Which is fine, I guess. It doesn't matter whether he's a defense attorney or a prosecutor; all that matters is the pursuit of the truth. What catches my interest is that even with all that bad blood and refusal to forgive Van Zieks, Kazuma still agrees to keep studying as his disciple. This implies to me that he sincerely doesn't believe Van Zieks to be a bad person anymore, and acknowledges he can learn a lot from this man. Which is not the same thing as being on friendly terms with him, but at the very least he's giving Van Zieks the benefit of the doubt when it comes to improving their... Well, their dynamic, I suppose I should call it.
On to the credits scenes we go! This time, Van Zieks legit does get a scene of his own, but before we address this one, I want to skip ahead real quick to Albert Harebrayne's scene.
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“He sent me a very nice letter saying he'd like to show me around now that everything was settled. B-But what have I done? I was so excited, I picked this splendid hotel and now I can't afford the bill! Oh Barok! Come to my rescue again, please! I, I wish I could just vanish into thin air sometimes!”
Several things of note can be taken out of this little scene. First of all, with the Reaper nonsense behind them, Van Zieks seems to have wasted very little time with asking his best buddy to return to London for that sightseeing that was promised. Presumably, he even paid for the trip (again), since Albert still seems to be very low on money. This, coupled with the fact that Van Zieks was reading that letter with quite a bit of dedication in his jail cell, indicates to me that he's longing for the good old days, when he could smile and have friends. He's trying to return to a sense of normalcy and since Albert is still considered his closest friend, it makes sense he'd reach out to him instead of a relative stranger like Kazuma. Baby steps. Now, the fact that Albert says “come to my rescue again” sets the very clear tone that this guy believes Van Zieks has helped him before- during the trial, of course. It's another reinforcement of the notion that Albert is thankful Van Zieks chose the role of prosecutor in order to defend the teleportation theory, even if it meant that he himself would be branded a murderer. Despite his gruff exterior and blunt words, Albert thinks of Van Zieks as a sort of knight in shining armor who will come save him. … With cold hard cash, in this case, but it's the gesture that counts. Van Zieks might allow Albert to stay in his mansion instead, but it depends how high the risk of assassination is at this point in time. People are probably hating on the Van Zieks family now that the truth of the Professor is out.
On to credits scene of Van Zieks himself! We have confirmation by now that he hasn't retired as a prosecutor, since Kazuma already expressed his intent to keep studying under him. So we see Van Zieks in his office, addressing Klint's painting.
“In those days, when I was known as the Reaper, I felt your presence at my side. Once, unable to bear the burden of that grim pseudonym, I even retired from the courtroom. Despite everything, I still wear your prosecutor's badge with pride. But the darkness that beset me is no more. As you, too... Are no more.”
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The first two sentences of this bit feel very disjointed and barely related to me, so I had a quick look at some fan translations. First is the sub translation on Youtube: “I could feel you standing by my side through the days in which I was called the Reaper. Yet there were times I could not bear the burden of that name, and left the courtroom far behind me.” The “yet” is very crucial, since it makes the insinuation that feeling his brother's presence was very important to Van Zieks, but the burden became so overwhelming that he retired anyway. Taisa the Gamer's script doesn't have a “yet” in it, nor any equivalent, but the sentence structure still flows well enough not to cast doubt on how he felt about Klint's supposed presence. Contrasting that, the localization's wording with “even” almost makes it seem like feeling Klint's presence was a negative thing- that he was overwhelmed by it and that this was the burden associated with the Reaper name, as opposed to the killings. Which can't possibly be right; he already admitted to us that the idea of his brother's ghost helping him was one of the main reasons he kept on being the Reaper. So long story short, the localization's take on these first two lines is a little off.
The prosecutor's badge thing, however, is spot on. Despite everything- despite the 'true nature' of Klint now exposed, Van Zieks still wears the badge with pride. We know the badge is symbolical, of course. He still believes in Klint's sense of justice and he's still going to openly admit to being Klint's brother- to being a Van Zieks. That's sweet. He goes on to say that the darkness within him is no more. To really grasp what that means, let's go back to the end of case 2-3 for a second. There, Van Zieks says that after his brother's death, he found himself in “a very dark place indeed”. In case 2-4, he mentions that he refuses to trust others to protect himself against betrayal, but has now sunk into a proverbial mire which makes it impossible to breathe. All of that is the same darkness he's referring to now, I'm sure. I don't believe depression can lift this easily; there's no way that darkness is no more. However, I think what he means to say is that it no longer has such a strong hold on him that it manifests in paranoia and irrational hatred. He has a chance now to start fresh and that's what he intends to do. He's striding away from that darkness, towards a brighter future. In order for a person to change for the better, they themselves have to want to change, and it looks like Van Zieks is all for that. Which at last brings us to the conclusion of this essay series! The conclusion, which looks back on the original query posed in Part 1, will once again include a load of screencaps. To keep the post size lighter, I'm going to put it in a separate post. I hope you'll look forward to it!
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