#* (&&. in character) always and forever acting ; for life is nothing but a show full with lies .

[arlxcchino]

      rest in pieces , sister ---

#smh #HBGURHIUTHITG #why did they both die wtf #* (&&. dash comms) do you ever feel like you are being watched ? #* (&&. in character) always and forever acting ; for life is nothing but a show full with lies .

[councilman-horsemeat]

The Greatest Star Trek Characters, Ranked

I was recently reading a few articles ranking the various Star Trek characters and got really infuriated. I started punching my solid wood table until my fists were blooded and filled with splinter. Kirk, Spock, Picard- who gives a shit? There was no flavor, no spice to these lists. After taking a long walk and eating some meal, I decided I oughta make my own. Here it goes; In no particular order, so they're not actually ranked at all.

Sylvia Tilly Star Trek: Discovery is full of people whose lives have sucked, in a way which reflects their outlook on life. Some are hardened, some burdened, some both. Sylvia Tilly offers a delightful contrast to these characters. I’m not through the first season of Discovery yet, but I hope she and Michael Burnham become best friends forever.

Mobar (Fake Tuvok) Part of a criminal group that travels the Delta quadrant scamming various strangers through various schemes. Mobar and his friend Dala ended up acting as Tuvok and Janeway, fooling hapless aliens into joining the “Federation”, which meant little more than handing over their starships or cargo. Mobar ended up getting WAY into character, oftentimes chastising his fellow criminals for not adhering to Starfleet protocols. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to make him not a criminal, and in the end he went down like a chump. RIP to a legend. I don’t think he died but whatever.

Dax (Jadzia, Ezri and Curzon/Odo) Jadzia Dax, our first true look into what trill really are. The fusion of Jadzia and Dax created a woman with wisdom far beyond her years, enough to make her approach life in a very confident, laid-back way. This, along with her highly analytical mind and charm, would have made her a perfect ship’s captain. Gone too soon.

On the other hand, I really liked Ezri Dax too. I’m conflicted, because seeing what it’s like for an unprepared, naive trill to be joined (despite never training to) was really interesting, and I even wish we got more than just the one season with her- but I also wish Jadzia could have been around for the finale.

When they were temporarily joined in a trill ritual, Curzon brought a certain down-in-the-dirt, slob attitude to the usually uptight Odo. I really liked him. He could have been less of a pervert.

Bearded Geordi LaForge Beautiful. Majestic. Just a touch of rogueish charm. Too bad he only had it for two episodes and like some movies or whatever.

Mirror Sarek I understand WHY he has a goatee. They needed to make him visually distinct from normal Sarek and it’s an homage to mirror Spock from way back when. The problem is that the homage only works if you didn’t already think mirror Spock’s goatee is funny as hell. They also call him the prophet for some reason. All in all a weird guy, which means I like him.

Neelix He brought a genuine heart of gold to the crew of the voyager when they needed it the most. A rock, a true friend and a shoulder to lean on. His friendship with Tuvok allowed him to occasionally bring out a different side of the indomitable vulcan. I also liked that his eye color randomly changed with no in-show explanation.

T’pring Spock’s almost-wife T’pring probably has the quickest turnaround from “WTF why is she so needlessly brutal” to “she’s a genius and she’s so logical” of any Star Trek character. She will always have my respect.

Sela It’s just really funny to me that she had all that buildup on top of already being the return of a written-off main character’s actor. And then like, nothing happened.

Kai Winn Opaka There’s something so incredibly about Louise Fletcher’s performance as Kai Winn in the later seasons that I sometimes have a hard time putting into words. She just captures the self-righteous, holier-than-thou, but also absolutely desparate character in such a captivating way- while also maintaining this underlying confidence and power.

“Klingon Chef” Deep Space Nine’s resident Klingon chef/opera singer showed a side of Klingon culture we don’t often see - the civilian side. He truly made the most of his few appearances, and I will always love him for it.

Seven of Nine (Possessed) Maybe it’s because of Seven’s usually stoic, reserved demeanour, but seeing Jeri Ryan take on the exaggerated personalities of a Klingon warrior, a Ferengi DaiMon, and the EMH of the USS Voyager amongst others, was one hell of a lot of fun. Enough fun to end up on this list! Unfortunately, not enough for that Oscar nom. Next time!

Dr. Michael Dingo Dingo’s brief stint as nurse aboard the Enterprise-D established him as little more than a grumpy old man, but he really shone after his promotion to main cast member and CMO of the USS Pioneer. His usual snarky personality being torn down upon meeting his long-believed-to-be-dead wife went down as one of my favorite moments in all of Star Trek. His refusal to poison the crew on behalf of his madly sick captain gave me goosebumps.

Lwaxana Troi She started out as no more than “Deanna Troi’s Annoying Mom” but evolved into so much more across her many appearances. Absolutely wonderfully played by Majel Barrett, the writers explore many facets of sorrow, motherhood, and what it means to grow old. I also believe that she should have ended up with Odo instead of Nerys, but whatev.

Falow The leader of the Wadi, a gamma quadrant species that value various types of games above all else. He and his entourage visit Deep Space Nine and end up throwing the main cast INTO a highly-advanced video game where they think they’ll actually die, but it’s actually just a game. What I like most is that he truly looks like the Most Advanced Gamer. If I was a highly advanced space-gamer this is what I would want to look like.

Riker Picard’s number one actually features on a lot of these lists. They usually list his loyalty or how cool he is or whatever. I’m mostly interested in his absolutely off-the-charts adventurous spirit. He was the first starfleet officer to serve aboard a klingon ship and was GLAD to eat gagh. When he learned that a trill symbiont needed a new host he practically jumped at the chance, despite the fact that no human had ever hosted a trill symbiont before. And he had absolutely no shame in wearing his slutty outfit in ‘Angel One’. There’s many similarities between Riker and Kirk, but Kirk would never have worn it so proudly.

Horny/drunk-ish Picard Patrick Stewart’s performance as a pseudo-drunk and very horny Jean-Luc Picard in The Naked Now has seared itself into my mind forever. It’s like he’s screaming, but also whispering, and sort of putting on an accent? Deciding just how to portray the usually stoic captain so completely out of his element must have been quite the challenge, and Patrick Stewart ended up making some very inspired choices.

Alyssa Ogawa She may not have done much more than help out in medbay every now and then, but the conversations between her and Crusher were the first to show that the main crew actually DO have friends outside the “inner circle”. Does that truly earn her a spot on a list of the greatest Star Trek characters of all time? Probably not but I don’t really care and neither should you.

Grand Nagus Zek Every time he got more screentime I remembered how much I loved his dumbass voice. His shrill bleating is hilarious, and every time he shows up I can’t wait to find out what his latest scheme is. His behavior towards women is regrettable, but that’s true for a lot of Star Trek men and unlike most of them, Zek actually sort-of changes.

Ishka And who is Zek without Rom and Quark’s moogie Ishka? Despite the usual underestimatable Ferengi personality traits, I genuinely believe Ishka could have one of the highest power levels in all of Star Trek canon. Women not even having the right to wear clothes has been a part of Ferengi culture for centuries and she managed to turn it around COMPLETELY in a handful of years. If she put her mind to it, I genuinely believe she could have brokered peace between the Cardassians and Bajorans, and that’s on the prophets.

Jae Yeah, I got a bit of a crush on this frankly random Enterprise-D crewmember. I think she’s friends with Picard? She sat next to him at a poetry reading once. I’m not sure if she even had any speaking lines.

#Star Trek #Deep Space Nine #Voyager #TNG #VOY #DS9 #iprixtwt

[asoiafsworld]

THE TURNING POINT.

pairing; aemond targaryen x fem!reader

request; hello! can i order a one shot for aemond × reader? their marriage is arranged, and usually they see each other just to fulfill the duty of generating an heir, where the reader is only immobile, but as time goes by she starts to enjoy these meetings and aemond realizes this, and leaves his way to spend more time with her

warnings; mentions of arranged marriage, mentions of death, nsfw (18+), breeding kink, oral sex (f recieving)

author's note; my first ever request!! i dont think this turned out great but oh well. i hope you enjoy it, i love writing for aemond a lot even though i dont think im very good with his character be hes a little hard to write but i hope you guys like it either way <3 and pls send me requests if u have any!!

masterlist

⊱ ───────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ───────── ⊰

You wondered for how long you would have to live like this. Was it forever? Until you died? Because you were sure that death was better than this.

You always knew that your life had no great purpose, you were born as a woman in Westeros after all. The only purpose you would ever serve was by marrying a rich lord and giving him heirs upon heirs... and that was it, it was all you were ever meant to do and marrying a prince instead of a lord did not change anything about it.

Your father was a good friend of Otto Hightower, the Hand of the King and since you were one of the more important houses in the Seven Kingdoms, he agreed on your father's idea to have you marry Prince Aemond Targaryen, the second son of the King. You remembered your father constantly telling you how important this was and how crucial it was for you to be a good wife and let him do whatever he wanted with you... As if you were not human but a toy to play with and that's most certainly how you felt in this marriage with him.

You knew of his dangerous and ambitious reputation before, of how he lost his eye just to bond with the world's largest dragon and how he grew from a little boy to a handsome and clever man who was very talented with a sword too. You knew nothing of wether he was cruel or kind, wether he was violent or peaceful so marrying him was almost like a suprise to you... But you were not any wiser about him now than you were before you married him.

You had been married to him only two months ago, almost three but you already wondered if your idea before the wedding of fleeing to the Free Cities wasn't a bad one... because being chained to a bed for the rest of your life was an awful fate.

You closed your eyes as Aemond continued to thrust into you, hoping he would soon be finished. You met him twice every week in your chambers, always for the reason of having to produce an heir and the fact that he only came for this, never acknowledging you or showing some sort of kindness towards you was humiliating. As if you were a whore who only did as she was told.

Maybe if he was kinder to you or just simply spoke to you, you would have admitted that you liked it a little...

The way he was gentle with you and seemed to care about wether or not you were in pain, the way he made you cum at least once with his tongue and fingers before he entered you and adjusted his pace to you.

But you had the hardest time supressing your moans when he came in you, filling you with his seed and making you feel so full as if you would burst. You were ashamed of how much you liked it and how nice it felt and how you hoped that it would take and make you pregnant because then he had no excuse to fuck you anymore and you wouldn't have to worry about your perverted thoughts.

Before you could think any further about it, you felt him come inside you with a final grunt. You layed there, not having moved an inch the whole time that he had his way with you and let him moan lowly right next to you, his cum shooting into you so deeply that you couldn't resist but clench around him... It wasn't even really you who did that, it was as if your body acted on it's own, wanting to show him that you liked it.

He let out another moan at the way you clenched around him and you could tell that he was looking at you but your head was turned to the other side. You felt him thrust once more, something he never did before and you could feel how he was pushing his own cum deeper into you and you reacted to it without really wanting to, clenching even harder around him and visibly shaking from the feeling. You had to swallow a lump in your throat to supress your moans but you were sure that your husband knew that you wanted to.

He kept watching you from the side but said nothing, his ever so attentive eye trained on you. You wondered how much he really knew about you, how much he even cared to know about you since he didn't seem to be very interested in his wife...

How soon that would change.

⊱ ───────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ───────── ⊰

Two days later you were in the gardens and cross-stitching with your sister in law, Helaena. She was a curious thing, always talking about things you don't understand but she was also a very sweet person, loving the prospect of having a sister that she would get along with and it made you feel better as well, to have someone in the family who is at least a friend to you.

You smiled at the stitching that Helaena had done, a red spider, as you heard footsteps come towards you.

You looked up from the stitching to see your husband come towards both of you and were suprised at the sight of him willingly approaching you outside of you bedchambers.

"Hello, brother! I thought you were training, what brings you here?" Helaena smiled widely at him, clearly enjoying seeing him and you saw the small smile that formed on Aemond's face, just for a few seconds.

"I was training but I decided to show some mercy to Ser Criston and ended early. Would you care for me to steal my wife away, dear sister? I wanted to walk the gardens with her."

You had talked to Helena about her brother's relationship with you recently so both of you were quite shocked to hear these words from him. You studied his face, the way his chin was pointed and his jawline that was sharp as ever, his blue eye studying you as if you were baring your soul for him.

You got up and excused yourself for Helena who was smiling brightly at you, hoping that this would mean that Aemond would finally spend some actual time with you. You began walking away from the table that you sat under, the sun beaming down at you and the flowers looking as beautiful as ever. You walked a few steps before Aemond spoke up.

"I wanted to apologize for how I acted towards you... I think that I can count on both of my hands how many times we spoke after our wedding which was some moons ago now. I realized the other day that I had not been treating you fairly and that you most likely never wanted this match and that it was very kind of you to still let us be together for the sake of having an heir. Truthfully, I was not ready for marriage and I still don't believe I am but I should at least try, for your sake and for both of our sakes since we will be with each other for a long time."

You were even more shocked at the words coming out of his mouth... Was he being genuine? Was it some kind of trick he was playing on you? His eye only seemed to tell you the truth and you sighed deeply.

"I... I don't know what to say but I'm glad to finally talk to you properly. I accept your apology and hope that you know that I don't think ill of you just because I didn't necessarily wish for this. I didn't, it's true but now, I think that others might have it a little harder in their lives. I want to know who you are, I want to learn about your personality but as long as you decide to shut me out or ignore me, I can't."

It dawned on him that you had figured out why he was staying away and you could tell that he was thinking precisely on what to say next. It was easy to see that he barely talked to anyone about his insecurities and problems and that he didn't want to get too close to anyone and you understood it but did not encourage it.

"Yes, you're right... I am always reluctant to be vulnerable with someone so I thought ignoring you was the right course of action which it clearly wasn't. I'm sorry that I have hurt your feelings... I wish to make up for my actions by spending my time with you now."

You smiled at him at that, pleased to finally hear the words you wanted to hear and he showed you a small smile, so beautiful on his pretty face.

Maybe something could come of this marriage after all.

⊱ ───────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ───────── ⊰

Throughout the past few weeks you had been spending much more time with Aemond, learning about him and what made him so unique and it was safe to say that you had fallen in love with him, just a little.

He made you laugh and smile with his words and jokes, made you meet Vhagar and even took you on dragonrides with her. He finally showed genuine interest in you and your heart bloomed at that, so happy for the attention you were receiving. You learned of how kind he actually was to you, his hidden but sweet demeanor showing with the gifts and compliments he was giving you.

In the weeks you had spent as actual husband and wife, you had not lain with him since he said he wanted to spend time learning about you first. You had requested that you would do it again tonight, intending to show him just how much you liked the things he did to you.

He was even gentler with you than before, stripping you of your dress and leaving soft kisses all over your face and lips. He held you like you were the most precious thing in the world and you basked in the love and affection he showed towards you.

He was as calm and precise as ever when he put his face between your legs again, eating your cunt with a hunger he didn't have before. You moaned loudly at this, burying your hands in his hair and grinding your hips up to hold your cunt against his face. You promised him that you would show just how much liked him and the way he pleasured you.

He had you coming in no time and when he deemed you open enough and entered you with his cock, it felt like you were actually laying with him for the first time. You both moaned loudly, feeling peaceful and content with each other now and Aemond wasted no time pounding into you as if he was a feral animal. You were overwhelmed by his pace and couldn't hold back your moans this time, calling for his name and begging for him as if he was your God.

And when he finally finished inside of you, you whimpered helplessy and felt embarrassed at how much your enjoyment at it showed. It felt like he was claiming you, putting his seed deep into you and hoping you would be pregnant soon enough.

He couldn't wait to fuck you with a swollen belly, full of his cum and pregnant by his seed.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen smut

[lynxindisguise]

I need you to imagine an early 00’s teen sitcom, where Regulus is the protagonist, and Dark Academia is the norm, so the core joke of the show is that he’s a just completely average boy with a painfully average life.

Anyway, his parents are conveniently always traveling for work, so he lives with his chaotic, (dark) artist brother, Sirius.

Now Sirius has one batshit insane friend who’s always cooking up ridiculous schemes, and though we never actually meet him, his name is thrown around like a legend—the running gag being that ‘James’ is such a weird name.

But ALSO, Sirius has another ‘seemingly rational’ friend who enables his bullshit and has nothing but the purest love for him despite the fact that he’s always cleaning up his messes. And people constantly joke about Sirius and Remus acting like a married couple, and Sirius has never so much as looked at a woman, while Remus can’t keep a girlfriend for more than an episode because he always puts Sirius first.

BUT THEN, because we’re actually in this sort of twisted Adams-family-esque subversion of the teen sitcom, Sirius gets a full character arc, the absence of their parents is confronted, it’s revealed that half of his crazy schemes are actually to distract from Remus being a werewolf, AND he and Remus are given the love story they deserve.

I could go on forever, please reblog with your own headcanons.

#regulus meets world #iregulus #the black family #unhinged marauders content #remus lupin #sirius black #regulus black #wolfstar #marauders #marauders headcanon #dead gay wizards

[unhingedhearties]

The Most First of First World Problems

You know who did have a surprisingly mature reaction to the Season 11 poster? TeamE83Liz/UnlovedHeartie.

Just kidding, she chimped out. Without looking ahead, take a guess what her opinion of Elizabeth’s shorter hair was.

Chris McNally literally has genetic evidence that he slept with someone outside of marriage*, but Liz only has these freak outs at 4 specific cast members simply because they travel and hang out and aren’t married. How dare people experience life with someone they aren't married to. They spend a quarter of the year EVERY YEAR working together. I would hope some of the cast would become friends and have fun.

*And to make it perfectly clear, I don’t care who Chris has a family with or how. NO. ONE. should care. Anyone who attacks him is subhuman trash. I just want to point out how Liz still puts Chris on this weird pedestal but acts like a serial killer everytime Erin does something she doesn’t approve of, whether it’s wearing hoop earrings with short hair or dating and traveling with friends.

Yeah Erin and Kevin really look like themselves on that poster. Erin’s always running around in pastel skirts in her free time and Kevin is never not wearing suspenders when at home.

“Bullied online” People telling you to act like a respectable adult is not bullying.

I do not understand how or why Lucabeth fans thought the next poster would cater to them. This show is not solely about you. Elizabeth and Lucas are not a couple anymore. Life goes on.

“I hate Erin at the moment” Then why are you always on Erin-senpai’s Instagram screaming at her to notice you and say “hi”?

“Where the f_ck is his uniform!?!” It’s still swearing even if you censor a vowel. I’m sure Jesus is proud of you. And his uniform is in the same place Jack’s was for the Season 3, 4 and 5 posters. Remember the pre-Lucas era?

“That’s mental abuse towards Lucabeth fans!”

HA HA HA HA HA

“I never got the chance to decide for myself who I wanted her to be with!”

You can literally decide that right now. You don’t need other people to make up your mind for you. You can even change your mind. What a crazy concept.

“I was then talked into how bad & not right for Elizabeth, Nathan was!”

Oh my God! She fell in with the wrong crowd 🙄How embarrassing to (probably) be a middle aged adult and be this easily influenced.

“My life’s ruined FOREVER because I was talked into hating an actor I don’t know. There’s literally no way to fix this situation”

Someone call TPTB. The main character of the universe is mad and doesn’t want there to be a Season 12 or a Christmas movie. Her wants outweigh the millions of fans that do.

…of course it’s real. Maybe it’s not the finished product, but it’s real. What, you think Erin and Kevin dress like that in their free time? Where do you think the photos came from?

Again with the “I was talked into not liking Nathan”. “Please, I bring nothing to a relationship and I only take, but I need someone to drop what they’re doing and tell me my hateful outbursts are justified.”

“Edit-Me” 

No shit

God I hope Elizabeth’s hair only gets shorter. I hope she goes full Josephine Baker and gels it flat onto her head.

Okay, I think that’s going to be it for poster reactions. There’s just been too many from disgruntled Hearties to keep track of everything. If anyone finds a good one, show me and if it’s funny I might share it.

#wcth #when calls the heart #hallmark #fandom drama #lucabeth #hearties #unhinged fans

[fangirllllpriv]

BIG TW FOR SUICIDE, UNREALITY

(not seriously dark, video game stuff lol)

///////////////////////////////////

Someone make a ddlc mod where instead of Sayori disappearing in act 2, she’s there, and happy again (glitches still there), but she follows the same path and kills herself again, this time in a different, equally gory way. Then through act 3, act 4, and a new act 5, Sayori repeatedly offs herself in different ways, while the other characters get more and more hostile and disturbing. MC’s goal is to stop Sayori from killing herself through these time loops.

There’s a mini puzzle game where you rearrange pieces of Sayori’s poems to figure out where and how she’ll try to kill herself. “In the clubroom, pills. In her kitchen, gas oven. In her car, crashed into a wall behind the school. In her bathtub, toaster.”

But you’re always too late.

In the end , it’s revealed that, like Monika, Sayori gained self awareness, and tried to remove herself from the narrative completely, not wanting to be used as a puppet for the world’s weird fantasies about barely-legal girls. But Monika keeps restarting it over and over, bringing Sayori back.

Eventually you realize you CAN’T save her. Monika reveals that she’s been taunting the player with the prospect of saving Sayori, explaining that she’s sick of the player treating her and the other girls like one-dimensional caricatures. A chance to “invite him in” to their personal lives and struggles, to shove their full personalities and inner lives in the player’s face.

She brings out the girls’ negative traits and repeatedly revives Sayori, this time to purposefully show MC things he never wanted to see.

The mod would go deep into the girls’ personalities in acts 2, 3, 4, & 5 instead of just making them awful.

Monika doesn’t want you in this one. She wants peace for her and the others.

Oh, Natsuki gets increasingly angry at MC for Sayori’s death each time it happens. She doesn’t explain why until she exclaims, looking directly at you, “WHY CAN’T YOU JUST LEAVE US ALONE?”

The only way to save Sayori, and to save any of them, is to leave them be.

Then ending sequence:

“Would you like to start a new game?”

Yes No

Yes: the screen is black for a second before Monika jumpscares you with a mild glitch effect. She tells you “have you learned nothing??? Are we doomed to repeat our fates to your cruel whims!? Forget this. I’m deleting it all, Sayori was right. A life like this isn’t worth living.

You’re taken back to the title screen where there are two options: Continue and Options. ‘Continue’ just gets you a “go away” textbox.

“Options” gets you a slider between “gone forever” and “fuck off” which changes the color palette of the title screen.

No:

The screen goes dark, and Monika pops up. You get a quick “Monika smiles sweetly” then the game closes.

If your reopen the game, there’s a title screen with the continue option only, and when you press it, a message pops up saying “thank you”

It’ll be called

DOKI DOKI LITERATURE CLUB: SAVING SAYORI

#doki doki literature club #ddlc monika #ddlc natsuki #ddlc sayori #ddlc mc #ddlc mods #does this count as fanfiction? #suicide #tw sui #tw suicide #unreality

[froggydoodles]

I watched this YouTube video featuring “hot” takes about Amphibia and I don’t agree with its point about how Anne and Sasha drifting apart makes “perfect sense” bc they had “nothing in common.” They both are great fighters, protective of their loved ones, enjoy dancing, and playing music. The YouTuber also justifies Anne and Sasha drifting apart bc Anne needed a break from someone who tried to kill her?? What?? They spend most of the show apart, and Sasha redeems herself. Also it’s tiresome that people act like Sasha and Anne are just normal besties like everyone else instead of characters who went through a traumatic experience together in a fantasy world. I hate this particular comment someone left on the video claiming that anyone who complains about Sasha and Anne drifting apart “has taken every friend that has drifted from them as a personal insult.” Pretty concerning that the comment has over 400 likes too. I’ve seen other people make this point before in a nasty way too… either that or they’ll make the point nicely but compare Sasha and Anne drifting apart to their own irl experiences, but for the reasons I mentioned it doesn’t seem comparable at all. Overall what a mess 😑

I completely agree with everything you just said. Their logic is wrong from the beginning, how can you compare your actual life experience to things these characters have been through and say it makes sense? Also I too saw that YouTuber's video and it was way too annoying. Needed a break from someone who tried to kill her? That was the most ridiculous part of the video and was also misleading. Did they even watch the show? Sasha never tried to kill Anne. Even Matt confirmed Sasha never had intentions of hurting her friends, her methods were wrong like forcing them to follow her but her goal was always doing whatever it takes to bring her friends back home. Just as you said she eventually redeemed herself and find a way to help her friends in a healthy way but it seems most people still ignoring that. It's an unfortunate fact that this fandom is still full of Sasha haters. I blame show's poor writing for that, they postponed Sasha's redemption for too long to move the show's plot. Her true redemption should have been begin at the end of the reunion cause we all saw that she almost sacrificed her life to save Anne. Still, it doesn't surprise me how many people liked that YouTuber's video or those comments getting 400 likes cause as i said before this fandom is still full of Sasha haters and i'm pretty sure they can try to say anything to justify Anne's and Sasha's drifting apart but anyone who watches the whole show and has a bit of logic can see that this situation doesn't make any sense. These characters faced situations you can't possibly see in a real life, they healed their relationship and made it stronger, they still had things in common, and most of all after Marcy moved they only had each other. They should have been got closer not apart. Them being drifting apart doesn't make any sense and no one can convince me otherwise. I'll forever hate the way how Amphibia ended. It was a show that had great potential but it ruined by bad writing and baits

#questions and answers #amphibia

[chemmycherry]

Meant to be yours // Blueycapsules Jeremike (angst)

Inspired by Meant To Be Yours from The Heathers musical

TW//major character death

Jeremy was running from the boy whom he once thoughts was shy and lovely. That smile on his face did not resemble love but rather obsessiveness. He didn't know when this started but it was certainly recent. In the past week, Fritz kept him closer than before, dragging him everywhere and keeping him on a close look. This made Jeremy uncomfortable as he couldn't focus on his work nor hang out with Joan without Fritz being at a 5-meter distance and staring at him. He didn't know what snapped in him but it was taking a toll on him.

Jeremy told him on that day he wanted some space from Fritz because he has been acting weird. Rather than the sweet reaction he always got from him, Fritz's expression turned dark.

"If I am not with you, you will die. I don't want you to die, Jeremy," Fritz's mouth turned into a small grin. "I can't let you die like the others around me, I've lost too many people. You are too special to me, you are my everything."

"You are starting to scare me, Fritz," Jeremy was walking backward slowly as his boyfriend was taking slow steps towards him with his arms open.

Jeremy was shaking at this point, he was terrified. They were alone at the pizzeria as Phil left them in charge of closing and Joan was nowhere near to starting her shift yet. Jeremy felt hopeless.

"Jeremy, my dear, I just want to protect you. You will be with me all the time, so nothing can hurt you," Jeremy reached the part of the room he wanted the least. His back touched the wall and he felt cornered at that second. He was looking around. scanning the area, thinking of a way to escape. His boyfriend was turning into a psychopath and he was having none of it.

Soon enough Fritz was in front of him, his two hands resting on the wall and keeping Jeremy between his arms.

Mike felt this huge wave of protectiveness and obsessiveness over Jeremy. He felt ownership over him as if he was only his and nobody can ever touch him, otherwise, he would meet the same fate as Elizabeth. He felt like Jeremy was in constant danger because of the animatronics and the pizzeria itself.

"It's okay darling, I am here to be with you, forever."

With that motion, Mike pressed his lips against Jeremy's but it wasn't passionate. It was forceful and Jeremy didn't feel the love in it. Before this, all the kisses they had was cute and lovely, full of joy but this was nothing but aggressive. Jeremy was slapping and punching Mike's chest lightly, showing him how much he didn't want this.

"Let me go you animal!" Jeremy yelled as he finally broke free and pushed the brown-haired boy away from him. Mike was taken aback as he lost his balance a little. He looked back at Jeremy in disbelief and Jeremy took that as a sign and opportunity to run away from him.

"How DARE you Jeremy? Pushing the only person away who can protect you?! COME BACK HERE!"

Jeremy turned around and ran as fast as he could through the hallway. Turning left and right but it felt like Fritz was still just beside him, meanwhile, Mike was just walking and listening to where Jeremy was going. He had a plan in case things would go wrong and he knew Jeremy wouldn't be able to leave the place so easily. Mike had the keys to the front and back door. If only Jeremy knew about this.

For Jeremy, it felt like an eternity running around the place, pushing tables and chairs when he could. He then reached the staff room which he entered and quickly locked himself in.

"Jeremy...baby...love," Mike called for his lover who was scared for his life behind the locked doors. Fritz's voice was trying to sound nice and charming at first but then after he realized he lost track of Jeremy, he was fuming. "Jeremy dear, if you want to be safe and protected, you have to come out and be by my side, forever!"

Jeremy was shaking with fear in the dark room. He didn't dare to switch on the lights, fearing they could be seen from the outside. He covered his mouth with his hand, muffling his cries as his tears left his eyes.

Jeremy really had to silence his cries as he heard footsteps going by the door. He saw the shadows underneath and held onto his dear life Fritz wouldn't bang on the door. Jeremy was pushing his weight onto the door, in case Fritz would decide to break in. The tension in the air was strong, he was praying no creaks or sound behind the door would be heard or he wouldn't see the end of it. His body didn't even twitch.

"Jeremyyyyy," sang Fritz in a cute way, or at least he tried to, calling for his boyfriend. When the footsteps and noise got quieter, Jeremy took the chance and ran for it. He opened the door as quietly as he could, looked around then bashed it open and ran for the emergency exit. If only it was that easy.

As Jeremy was running towards the exit, he took a glimpse behind his back and smiled in relief as he didn't see Fritz nowhere near behind him. Then as he turned his head around, he bumped into a male figure. There was only one option who it could be, as only two of them were in the building.

Jeremy fell to the ground from the collision but the person stayed on their feet.

"Jeremy, Jeremy, Jeremy..." spoke Fritz as he looked down on his lover. "Why are you trying to get away from me? I'm only here to protect you."

"N-no! You want to make me yours as if I was an object! I have a life and you want to take everything joyful out of it!" Jeremy looked at Fritz with an upset expression. Yet this only made Mike have an evil grin on his face. Just like his father used to smile before he ended the lives of his victims.

"Oh my dear," Fritz squatted down to Jeremy's eye level. "Why are you playing so hard to get? Just grab my hand and we can be together, forever."

Mike held his hand out for Jeremy, but the blonde boy wasn't stupid enough to fall for his trick.

"Fuck that!" Jeremy slapped Fritz's hand away. "I'm not doing that! You have changed! This isn't the Fritz I fell in love with! He was nice and sweet, but you are scaring me! I don't want to be with you if you keep me away from everything," Jeremy felt the tears forming in his eyes. Fritz was taken aback as he thought he would have Jeremy wrapped around his fingers by now. Mike also felt tears forming in his eyes but this only made his grin grow wider. He could only chuckle at him.

"It's because Fritz isn't here anymore Jeremy," the blonde boy looked at his partner with confusing eyes.

"But Michael is."

Jeremy couldn't make out what he tried to say with this, but he knew one thing for sure.

The boy he liked and kissed with love was no longer in front of him. It was someone else, completely different. The more he looked at him, the more he resembled Dave a little. That terrified him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Jeremy crawled back a little, trying to escape.

"I'm in love ,Jeremy, I'm in love with you Jeremy~" Michael gave Jeremy a smile that was rather creepy than lovely. "And I will do everything not lose you."

"You have just lost me with what you are doing. I can't do this if you are obsessive with me. This isn't you!" Jeremy was now crying. "I loved you Fritz, I really did but something changed in you. A-and that scares me. I don't like the new Fritz, so please."

"Leave me alone."

Jeremy stood up and ran to the security room. Mike stared at the ground after what Jeremy said. He thought about it and didn't know what to do. It felt like his consciousness came back. Something really did snap in him as he felt like Jeremy was in constant danger. Was he the danger? Was he going crazy? Was he taking after his father? He looked at his hands and they were shaking. Why were they shaking?

The sound of Jeremy's footsteps faded away slowly and it reminded him of when he let Liz run away from him after their argument. Then her death. The guilt started to build inside him and slowly eat him up.

"Jeremy is going to die. He is running to his death." was all Mike could hear in his head. He knew he had to go after him. He had to correct what he as done and said. Jeremy was right. Something changed and he didn't know what it was either, but it scared him. He knew he fucked up and wished he could turn back time but oh how many times Michael had wished that. But he still had a chance to fix this.

Mike stood up and took after Jeremy. He could hear his loud sniffles and followed the sounds. He saw his shadow take a turn to the security office. When Mike took the last corner he saw Jeremy sobbing, leaning next to the desk. Mike walked slowly to him, trying not to disturb him more than he did.

"Jeremy..." Mike spoke after he reached the open entrance.

Jeremy looked up and Mike saw his red, cried-out eyes. He was hugging his knees close to him.

"I told you to leave me the fuck alone!" Jeremy yelled. "Stop fucking following me!"

"But Jeremy-"

"No! I'm done!" Jeremy stood up and faced Michael. "I'm done with your crazy shit! You are obsessive and-and you need help! I don't know what has gotten into you but I don't like it!"

As Jeremy was shouting Mike heard a static noise in the background which Jeremy didn't seem to take notice of. This made Mike stressed, he had a gut feeling something bad was going to happen. He had felt like this before.

"Jeremy."

"No! Shut up! I have had enough! If this isn't the Fritz I know and love talking then I don't want to hear it!"

More static noise came from the ceiling. As if it was moving around. The gut feeling grew bigger in Mike and he wanted to walk toward Jeremy but something didn't let him. He tried to take slow steps but that only made the other boy take a step backward.

"Jeremy, listen-"

"No! I won't fucking listen! You listen! Until you change back I don't want to talk to you!"

Michael looked up at the ceiling and saw where the static noise came from.

Mangle.

"Jeremy, you hav-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP ALREADY FRITZ!" Mike took a step back because of the yelling.

Mangle was moving like a snake and Jeremy didn't feel their presence. He continued yelling and crying. His bottled-up emotions were let out in the worst way possible.

Jeremy wanted to hug and punch Fritz at the same time. He loved him but his behavior just set something off in him. He missed the shy Fritz he had a crush on. He missed his hugs and small kisses, the jokes they had together and the walks they went on when they didn't have work. The way he held his hand and the look Fritz had when Jeremy was talking about something. Those shiny dots in his eyes were now gone and Jeremy didn't know what has happened.

He missed Fritz.

He couldn't do much more than cry his heart out as he put his head into his palm. He screamed and cried. He was broken and he needed Fritz.

Mike sensed the pain in his voice and he wanted to hug his partner so badly. He wanted to comfort him and tell him how much he loves him but it didn't seem like that could work.

"Jeremy-" Mike took a step forward.

"JUST FUCK OFF! I DON'T WANT YOU NEAR ME!" Jeremy looked up at Fritz.

The static noise stopped which made Mike even more worried. Did Mangle leave just like that? She has been very aggressive in the past weeks and this wasn't like him.

"Jeremy, listen-"

"NO! I HAVE HAD ENOUGH!"

"Please-"

"Fritz!"

Silence filled the room.

"I'm sorry, but if you are going to keep being like this, I don't want you near me."

"Jeremy, ple-"

"I said, I DON'T WANT YOU NEAR ME! LEAVE! YOU SCARE ME, DON'T YOU GET IT!?"

"JEREMY-"

"GET THE FUCK OUT FRITZ! I DON'T L-"

Then what Michael feared the most has become true. Jeremy's last unfinished words echoed through the room and his mind as blood splattered everywhere.

Mangle bit into Jeremy's head.

She took his frontal lobe out as they detached themselves from the body. Jeremy stood there, motionless, then his body fell onto the ground.

Mike couldn't move a muscle. His boyfriend was dead. His boyfriend was lying in the puddle of his own blood, lifelessly.

"J-Jeremy?" Mike spoke. His voice was shaking as he didn't want to believe his eyes. "Jeremy?!"

No answer.

The blood was trailing down on the checked pattern floor, reflecting the dark ceiling. The smell of blood and iron filled the room, but that failed to make Mike sick or nauseous at all. He was frozen in place when the realization finally hit him.

He finally ran to him and kneeled down to him. He turned his body towards him and was terrified of what he saw.

Almost half of his head was gone. Jeremy's right eye, skin, and skull were bitten out, and blood gushing out of the hole. Jeremy's last breath left his mouth long ago, all Michael could feel was his body's temperature getting lower and colder. Michael reflected on his actions.

His boyfriend was gone.

All because of him.

All because he wanted to protect him.

All because he was an Afton.

All because he took after William.

All because he loved him too much.

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #jeremy fritzgerald #michael afton #blueycapsules jeremy #blueycapsules #blueycapsules michael #afton family #i kin jeremy so this was hurtful to write #michael afton kin #michael afton is crazy in this au #michael afton takes after his father #the bite of 87 #bite of 87 #i want to cry #i was half drunk while i wrote the end #the bite happened i can finally publish it

[curseshared]

* 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑻

repost, don’t reblog !

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

FULL NAME.  Lilith Clawthorne. TITLE.   none, thank you! (formerly Head Witch of the Emperor’s Coven) NICKNAME.   Lily (only Eda calls her this), Lulu (only Hooty calls her this); Cool Aunt Lilith. GENDER.    woman, but in a distinctly non-human way. PRONOUNS.     she/her. HEIGHT.    over 6 feet, plus she normally wears heels. AGE.   ~47 ZODIAC.   unknown. canon birthdays when??? SPOKEN LANGUAGES.   boiling isles common (which was already english before the british guy took over... i have questions), as well as a number of dead languages she’s studied.

𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

HAIR COLOR.   dyed black/dark blue. it’s naturally red. EYE COLOR.   aqua; her right eye is gray after taking on half of the curse. SKIN TONE.   very pale. BODY TYPE.   tall and thin, though surprisingly strong. VOICE.   i need to make my own compilation at some point DOMINANT HAND.   ambidextrous! POSTURE.   perfect, with years of practice being in the public eye. though, she’s not as concerned about sitting up straight when no one is watching... SCARS.   some small ones from various fights and mishaps, but nothing highly visible. TATTOOS.   none. BIRTHMARKS.   none. MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S).   that depends on who you ask. probably the heterochromia. or the fact she only has lipstick on her top lip. (it all instantly makes sense when you look at her design next to Eda’s.)

𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 !

PLACE OF BIRTH.   somewhere on the boiling isles. there are many mysteries. HOMETOWN.   Bonesborough. SIBLINGS.   Eda (younger sister). their relationship is... complicated, but close. PARENTS.   Gwen (mom) and Dell (dad), still alive and together. she didn’t really have a relationship with them at all for most of her adult life, but they’ve recently reconnected.

𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 !

OCCUPATION.   Bad Girl Historian ™ CURRENT RESIDENCE.   with her parents (back home); Fibonacci in spirale, although she might be moving soon... CLOSE FRIENDS.   Hooty is her best friend forever. other than her family (+ extended found family), she doesn’t seem close with a lot of other people. in spirale: Nightmare Knight, Webeta, and maybe more soon. RELATIONSHIP STATUS.   happily single. FINANCIAL STATUS.    relatively comfortable. DRIVER’S LICENSE.   no. maybe she should get one, though... CRIMINAL RECORD.   she is currently wanted for treason. VICES.   she drinks sometimes. otherwise her habits are pretty tame... by boiling isles standards. her mistakes, however, are great and many, and haunt her every waking moment. she’s hurt a lot of people, knowingly or not.

𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 !

SEXUAL ORIENTATION.   asexual, aromantic. LOVE LANGUAGE.   primarily acts of service, she always wants to do things for people. though what she needs from other people (and can’t possibly ask for) is words of affirmation. RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES.   (platonic) she likes to share her interests with people, and can keep talking for hours if someone is willing to listen. she’s in the process of unlearning a lot of unhealthy beliefs and tendencies, and still finds it hard to ask for help or to show affection... she mostly tries to look at how others act towards her and mirror them to make sure she is behaving ‘correctly’. will do chores or errands for people unprompted.

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 !

CHARACTER’S THEME SONG.   playlist that you absolutely can ask for elaboration on HOBBIES TO PASS TIME.   reading, especially about history but she’ll read just about any book for fun. keeping a journal with organized notes on everything she’s learned. experimenting with glyph combos (theoretical only for now). has a great interest in architectural history, and keeps thinking about taking up sculpture and/or woodcarving, but hasn’t really committed to it yet. she also goes to the gym semi-regularly. LEFT OR RIGHT BRAINED.   this is pseudoscientific nonsense... which is something a left-brained person would say. PHOBIAS.   her worst fear is of losing Eda... and more broadly, her loved ones. this is not an irrational fear, since it already happened once, and was her own fault. also has a terrible fear of failure or just generally being a disappointment, which was certainly not helped by the trauma of being essentially (literally) in a cult for the last 30 years. SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL.   good as long as things go how she expected them to. VULNERABILITIES.   quick to jump to conclusions, both about herself and in general. constantly looks to authority figures for validation. easily tricked (...not as easily anymore). finds it hard to see others’ perspectives. falls quickly into self-doubt and blame if left alone with her thoughts. needs to be right. guilt. so much guilt. there’s also the curse, which she has no control over at this point.

#meme friday #i never do these anymore it was fun...... #this is like 3/4 canon summary and 1/4 The Autism #(i'm autistic and so is lilith.... idk if i've ever said that on this blog) #(it's subtext) #long post

[cxtxlysmic]

CHARACTER BLOG FOR SONICFM .

╰   ☆  ◞  harry styles / cis male / he + him  ———  no way is that AXEL DALTREY? you know they’re TWENTY FOUR years old and they’ve been in los angeles for FIVE YEARS. they’re chillin’ as a SINGER for PINNACLE RECORDS HQ. oh and they’re notoriously known for being BRAZEN but there are some people who have seen them be GREGARIOUS. i heard they’re a part of a SOLO ACT called AXEL DALTREY, yeah they’re a VOCALIST/GUITARIST. to be honest they sound a lot like JEREMY ZUCKER, TROYE SIVAN, LAUV. they’re actually FAMOUS.

𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 !! consequences have never actually felt like consequences. no matter when you've fucked up or how many times, you always land on your feet. not even your ego has ever gotten bruised in the fall. and you know it's inevitable that your life will slow down one day - it can't be a million miles per hour forever -but you're willing to pretend that the invincibility will last. it's all about living in the ' here and now ', right ??

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃 : he's never wanted for anything, born in london as the only child to a stay at home mother and his talent manager father. his dad worked a lot, often at the office in meetings and signing new talent for his agency. they lived a very comfortable life in a gorgeous house in hampstead, and axel couldn't have wanted anything more. he went to a private school, but all of the professional education in the world couldn't sway axel from loving music. even when he was barely old enough to understand his dad's ties to the music industry, he wanted to be a singer. he had a super easy upbringing in his little wealthy bubble. 𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃 : like many other teen music lovers, axel started a band with his friends. they were pretty terrible at first, but their dedication to the music and rejecting their academics meant they improved, eventually playing at their school's formal ( aka prom ) and some local gigs. as he got older, axel's time was split between music and friends, parties, social events. he had a natural charisma that helped him befriend people easily, but a selfishness that had him mistreating people - often going full speed ahead. his parents had come to accept that it was music or nothing, and by the time that axel had finished school he was a skilled guitarist, pianist and vocalist - taught through his school's music department. he had also spent a lot of time with his father, understanding the business side of music - after much begging, his dad connected him to be the opener for one of his beginner talent's first tour. they were small venues - max 2OOO - touring the main cities in europe. the problem was, the budget only stretched to one soloist. so axel ditched his band ( still one of his saddest moments, leaving his four best friends behind ) and started writing his own music to take on the road. by the end of that tour, axel was still very much a nobody. but his dad finally conceded that there was something there and fronted the money for an EP, on the promise that if this didn't work out, then axel would go to university like the family had hoped. 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐎𝐔𝐓 : for a year, axel would play anywhere. he had the privilege of not needing to earn his own money to live, so he'd open up for other acts for free. slowly, his following grew. but it didn't feel fast enough, and axel figured he could either make a comfortable living in england or start from nothing in la. so he chose the latter. with his dad's money, at nineteen he set off to try and make something of himself. his dad was no one there, so he had to make his own luck. axel self funded his own debut album, and would perform it anywhere. it was a slow burn, gaining in streams and popularity until it just blew up overnight. he'd recently got picked up by a manager, who helped him with playlisting and slots on talk shows. most importantly, links to writers and producers in los angeles. it was album number two a couple years ago that cemented his place in the industry. a number one album with two number one singles, an arena tour, a fanbase. it was everything axel had wanted. 𝐍𝐎𝐖 : axel is back to writing for album number three. he hasn't returned back to london other than for work or visiting, fully dedicated to the la lifestyle and keeping on building his career. he's largely into the party lifestyle, comfortable in feeling like he's made it and has everything he ever wanted.

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 !! egotistical and narcissistic, but it's all a choice, he's actually pretty realistic. smart but dumb. restless, decisive, confident. very loyal to his friends ( a lesson he has learned more recently ), and always down for a good time.

𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐒 !! messy exes, flings, friends with benefits. secret fling. musician friends. collaborators. people who can't stand him. people he can be himself around / know his more authentic self. party friends, best friends / ride or die, someone he lived with when he first came to la 5 years ago, roomies now !

𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒 !! 

FULL NAME:  axel james daltrey . NICKNAME(S): axe . AGE: twenty four . DATE OF BIRTH: february 13th 2OOO . PLACE OF BIRTH: london, uk . GENDER: cis male . PRONOUNS: he / him . ORIENTATION:  bisexual / biromantic . LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: english . NEIGHBOURHOOD: riviera beach . LIVING ARRANGEMENTS: seaside oasis apartments . MOTHER: susannah daltrey, 45 - stay at home mother . FATHER: james daltrey, 47 - talent management agency ceo . SIBLINGS: none . PETS: none . NAME OF THEIR ACT: axel daltrey . SO THEY PLAY INSTRUMENTS? IF SO WHAT?:  singer / guitarist / pianist . HOW LONG HAVE THEY BEEN A PART OF THE ACT?: seven years . ARTIST INFLUENCES: lauv, jeremy zuckler, troye sivan, luke hemmings . CURRENT MONTHLY SPOTIFY/APPLE MUSIC LISTENS: 34 mil . FACE CLAIM: harry styles . HAIR COLOR: brown . EYE COLOR: green . HEIGHT: 5 ft 1O . BUILD: muscular, lean . TATTOOS: many - some bigger, planned pieces and some stick n pokes from his tour bus. lots of matching tats with friends and to capture moments . PIERCINGS: both ear lobes, usually has small hoops in . CLOTHING STYLE: band shirts and comfy clothes in his downtime, his stage style is v similar to harry's irl style . DISTINGUISHING CHARACTERISTICS: a bright dimpled smile, piercing green eyes, imperfect teeth, nails painted to match his outfit . MBTI: ENFP-A . ELEMENT: fire . WESTERN ZODIAC: aquarius . CHINESE ZODIAC: dragon . POSITIVE TRAITS: charming extroverted exciting confident . NEGATIVE TRAITS: hedonistic enigmatic unapologetic . HOBBIES: partying, travelling, meeting new people, working out, writing, journaling, honetly... sleeping lmao . CHARACTER INSPIRATION (IF ANY): connor walsh ( how to get away with murder ), craig manning ( degrassi ), logan reese ( zoey 1O1 ) .

𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐄 !!

start at the beginning, who are you and why are you important? " i'm axel - are any of us important ? " how long have you been making music? "i would skip my science classes to sneak off to the music department and play instruments back when i was about nine, so it started quite early. but actual music, which doesn't sound like some kid throwing a drum kit around the room ? i was fourteen when me and my friends started a band. that's the first time i ever really composed something from scratch. " how would you describe the kind of music you make? " a range. sometimes it's just me and a guitar, or a piano. i like to make sure i'm bringing those vulnerable moments to all of my albums because that's where i started and i think it's what i do best. the heavier rock songs are fun, too. and leaning into pop hooks for the last record was freeing. i guess i make whatever the fuck i'm feeling like on that day. " who are some of your biggest musical influences? "it has to be bowie. he's the man. there's videos of me as a kid singing his stuff - i think that's where my love of song craftsmanship came from. and the value of performance art. mccartney, too - because you can tell he's still doing it because he loves it. he doesn't need to keep going. he just wants to. i hope i still love this after that amount of time. " what is the first record you ever bought? " my parents bought me music all through my childhood but i distinctly remember going into hmv back in london when i was like thirteen and buying am by arctic monkeys. i'm still obsessed with that album, i would love to make something as timeless as that. " what has working in the music industry meant to you thus far in your career? " it took a lot of convincing for my dad to let me delay university by a couple of years. he believed in me, but he also knows the odds. to think what my life could have looked like if this didn't work out ? that makes me feel so humbled by working in the music industry. it means the world, that i get to do this as a job. it's fucking hard, though. everything comes with investment and risk. but that's what makes it so special. " what are some stand out moments from your career so far? " the major moments are selling out madison square garden, or signing to my label. at some points it felt like i was going to be independent forever so that was massive. but the parts that stick with me the most are the nights performing in bars where no one knew who i was, or flying out [ to los angeles ] with no game plan. the risks i took - they are the stand outs. " how would you describe your style of performance? what makes your shows worth seeing? " you get to just be who you want to be - leave those inhibitions at the door. no one's judging you at my shows. i try and give a raw performance every night, and sing those songs like they're hitting just as hard as they did the day i wrote them. it's cathartic, but so much fun. " what are you still hoping to achieve in your career? " i want everything i'm doing to get bigger and better. i would love to headline a stadium show, or tour enough so that i can up the production budget and really push myself visually. i have a really long list of things i want to do - go number one with a solo written song, direct my own music video, win a grammy. " what’s next for you? " right now, i'm writing my third album. really taking my time with it, i feel like it's gonna be the best one yet. by a lot. "

#sonicfm:intro

[eclipsejoku]

Betrayal.

! THIS IS CANNON, BUT STILL GOING UNDER DEVELOPMENT! THE EVENT IS CANNON, BUT HOW IT WENT COULD BE TWEAKED IN THE FUTURE !

Part Two

This is a scene for a little thingy, y'know? My own worldbuliding thing. I might post about it on my blog, but gimme a few before I do! The characters are Ori, Midnight, and Onyx! I might make more about their dynamic and who they are if someone asks me to- I dunno honestly.

Summary - Ori and Onyx leave the Devil's Crest, leaving Midnight behind, too. The battlefield's swirling with emotions, sadness, anger, and betrayal.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Midnight, please—” Ori begged Midnight to listen, their trembling arms reaching out to them, but no. Midnight took a step back every step Ori took forward. He didn’t want to hear Ori’s excuses. Midnight didn’t desire the shitty reason of why Ori left. He didn’t want to be near him. Yet, here he was, right in front of him. The destroyed area was surrounded by dust and smoke, with debris scattered around. Tears were filling Ori’s eyes, either from the dust or regret.

Midnight didn’t care which one.

“... You left me.” Midnight’s words were stern and harsh, but an underlying sadness was evident. Ori stopped approaching and gave a sympathetic look, making Midnight more frustrated. He didn’t want Ori’s pity. “You left me, and all you gave me was a fucking note?!”

“Midnight, listen—”

“Did you even care about what I thought?! I went to your room looking for you! And all I found was a stupid note!” He screamed at Ori, his voice full of hatred. Ori’s eyes softened at seeing Midnight’s vulnerable state. Usually, Midnight would always act more fragile near Ori, but never this.

He’d acted fragile, not broken.

“I sobbed, I cried, I waited for you, Ori. Did none of that matter?! Did those years together mean fucking nothing?!” Hot tears streamed down Midnight’s face, full of anger. His eyebrows furrowed, his breathing ragged.

“Did you hate me that much?”

Ori’s lips parted to say something, anything. But he couldn’t. He wanted to say how sorry he was, how he loved Midnight with all his heart. How grateful he was to have Midnight in his life. Maybe he could’ve convinced Midnight to stay with him. To run away from the world and go somewhere else. But he couldn’t.

He just couldn’t.

Midnight’s anger quickly turned to realization. Midnight took quick, sudden steps away from Ori. His eyes were laced with betrayal as Ori continued to stay silent.

Now it was Midnight’s turn to cry, sobbing with sorrow. He had to stay steady, his hands on his knees. His body felt numb, and it hurt to stand still. Trembling, he looked into Ori’s brown eyes with his a blurry purple. Ori’s eyes were wide, his arm partially held out. Midnight understood Ori wanted to help, but he couldn’t.

He wanted to curl into a ball and weep until he ran out of tears. To beg for Ori to comfort him like he once did. But what use was it? Ori left him. He went to the other side. He ran away with Onyx at night.

On the inside, Midnight wished it was him. Or maybe he hoped he was Ori, running in the forest with Onyx. Perhaps he would’ve joined both of them, pushing his feelings aside. But he was betrayed by both of them. The moment he caught feelings for Ori, his best friend since forever, they caused more pain for him. When Onyx arrived and showed slight interest in him, he took that chance and started a relationship, only for Ori to steal his heart.

Oh, the irony.

Ori and Onyx are perfect together, and he knows it. In the end, he was alone with no one. So why did it all hurt?

Midnight’s legs collapsed, and without thinking, Ori rushed towards him. Midnight coiled into a ball and pressed himself into Ori’s chest, their tears streaming down onto each other.

“Ori!” A shout from all the chaos caught Ori’s attention, his gaze shifting from Midnight to behind him. Midnight, however, didn’t need to look. He already knew who it was. Still, he glanced to see a dark-skinned figure with the same soft, stone-gray eyes, black hair that faded white near the top, everything he could recognize.

Onyx.

He faltered when he saw Midnight in Ori’s arms, hesitant to approach. Midnight stole a glance towards Ori, seeing his indecisive face. He looked back at Midnight, his eyes pleading for a chance. “Midnight,” Ori’s voice cracked, tearing up again. “Please, just give—”

“No.”

“P-please!” Ori begged for Midnight, his voice cracking from the new tears. Crying and begging weren’t getting them anywhere. His grip grew tighter, nails piercing through his skin. Wincing, Midnight pried himself away, standing up with urgency. He didn’t care if he felt lightheaded, or if Onyx was watching, or if the battlefield was slowly burning away with them in it.

He didn’t care.

“Midnight, just listen to yourself!” He could hear the anger slowly rising in Ori’s voice, and for once, he truly felt scared of him. Quickly standing up, Ori’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched. “This is stupid! Why won’t you—”

“You left me for him.” Midnight pointed a finger at Onyx accusingly, glaring through tears. “None of it ever mattered! All those nights we spent together sharing secrets or when we pranked Siren, nothing! You left with him the moment he barged into our lives! I get it, okay?! He goes with you great, and he’s better than anyone! But what about me? I was there first! You took everything from me! And you,” Midnight turned to Onyx. “You used me. You took advantage of me, you hurt me like it was nothing, and you did it all for him! Why do you both just do this?!” Onyx teared up slightly, but no one could tell if it was from the dust or his remorse. Ori’s gaze faltered, his eyes softening. His breathing was heavy, failing to find the words. “I just…” his voice trailed off, not knowing how to respond. He didn’t understand why he chose Onyx instead of Midnight. Maybe it was his soothing, calm voice or his understanding nature. Midnight wasn’t like that.

Midnight was a trickster who never took things seriously. Ori learned to love it, but Onyx’s aura was alluring, finding him in a trance. Even Midnight fell for it.

Ori just took it all away from him. He took away the two things Midnight loved most — Onyx and himself.

“Exactly, you don’t fucking know yourself. Because you’re a selfish, ignorant people pleaser.” Midnight sounded disgusted, and it broke Ori’s soul. “Ori, we have to go!” Onyx pleaded, grabbing Ori’s arm. His glare towards Midnight was harsh, and for a second, Midnight looked heartbroken. His purple eyes filled with regret and fear. Ori sighed, wiping the ash and dust off his face. “Yeah… yeah, let’s go.” Yet, neither of them moved. They both stared at Midnight, waiting for something. In the end, they both wanted him to come back. They wanted their Midnight back in their arms.

Slowly moving back, Midnight’s gaze of sorrows turned to betrayal, frustration, and acceptance. However, this acceptance was different. His eyes didn’t show any understanding. No, this acceptance was different. He was accepting they chose their side while he chose his. 

If Onyx and Ori left him behind, there was no denying they were rivals.

Midnight turned around and ran out of the battlefield, returning to the Devil’s Crest. Onyx and Ori watched as he faded away in the smoke. Ori choked out a sob, leaning on Onyx for support. He put a reassuring arm around his shoulder, letting Ori collapse and give in. So much happened in the past few hours; they all needed a break. Even if the battle was over, they needed to escape. “We… have to go. We have to go now!” Onyx screamed, dragging Ori off as they stumbled to the others. Before they left, Ori took one final glance back.

He could’ve sworn he saw Midnight perched on a tree, staring dead in the eyes to him. It was a warning of death.

He officially lost him.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Honestly, I feel kinda sad I don't have a good photo for the start- I don't even know what I was gonna put, but I don't have one- Anyways, hope you enjoyed!

#original writing #original #writing #short story #short stories #oc #my ocs #original story

[arlxcchino]

      one of arlecchino's great pleasures was her time alone within the forest . specifically , the darkest parts --- where the insects and other less than kind animals could be found . in some aspects , she felt at home this way , though she was aware that this was just some selfish indulging of her curiosity . after all , there was always work to be done .

   though . . . how strange . there seems to be more light around these parts than usual . and the cold place she often visited seemed . . . warmer . a comfortable warmer , not a harsher , burning one . and laughter can be heard , too --- head tilts as she walks , and soon enough , she ends up face to face with a young boy and what seems to be companions ( furry ones at that , that is ) of his .

   she blinks once , and then once more . "" are you lost , little one ? "" the woman starts , slowly making her way towards the small clearing they found themselves in . "" not many walk through these parts , usually . so , forgive my curiousness . ""

|| @bndair liked for a starter !

#me? making a.ang literally THE light that he is??? yeah- #anyway hUIHIGFRGTT HOPE THIS IS GOOD! #i went with your gi v.erse btw!! #* (&&. in character) always and forever acting ; for life is nothing but a show full with lies . #bndair

[ofsootandsmoke]

Sometimes, you remember all the things you did.

They are immortalized everywhere you look, and every piece is clicking into place like a puzzle you've been trying hard to figure out for months; and then, in a single moment, it's all there, and you can only be overwhelmed at the sight of it all, but you can't unsee it. The images won't go away, and someone keeps pressing rewind and play and rewind and play and rewind and play and rewind and play over and over and over and over again until you go mad. That much repetition isn't healthy, you know, and especially not of a sight that leaves you feeling everything you'd rather forget.

It's quite easy for a person to go insane. Trust me, I've done it quite a few times in my life— there's nothing easier than being tormented by the thoughts in your own brain and losing your sanity over it. No matter how much you recover, you can never really get back what you lost, forever only finding makeshifts to hold yourself together until that breaks, too. Once you lose yourself, you can never get that back. You can build yourself up into something new, but whatever you were and whoever you were will never be the same. Remember that, will you? I'm not sure in what situation that could be helpful, but it wouldn't hurt to keep it in mind. Maybe if I'd known that sooner, I wouldn't have been so careless with myself.

I wonder if any of this makes any sense to someone who still has their full sanity intact. Do my ramblings make any sense to you? Can you decipher things I put between the lines and hide in my meanings? Can you make sense of the thousands of things I've written with shaking hands and a heavy heart and an aching skull? Or is it all beyond comprehension at this point, my writings just as senseless and eccentric as I often am? Do I even have a reason to write anymore? I suppose I do. I never wrote to be understood; I wrote to convey what was going on in my head. If my sentences are senseless, then I guess I am still doing what I've always intended. Even if I make no sense, you can gauge what type of mindset I'm in. No sane man writes this much in this little time with this many run ons and commas and metaphors.

I often think about that one ask. How do you process grief? And I think, "I don't." I don't process it, but it still catches up to me on a sunny day in the middle of the street regardless. Or, currently, on a quiet night in my bed. It torments me, but don't ask what "it" is. Grief. Guilt. Sorrow. Regret. Anything that is similar to those things or is a synonym. Pain. It doesn't hold me tightly and twist my arms back and break my bones; it doesn't touch me at all. It whispers, soft and delicate, yet it feels like a million people shouting all at once. My sorrow is softer than a falling flower petal, and simultaneously, it is harsher than the strongest bomb in existence. The grief I feel could destroy nations (and it already has).

I know I make no sense. Let me be incomprehensible for a little while, but please stick around for when I come to again, even if it takes a while. My brain moves faster, so it won't take too long, I promise. Maybe for me, it takes thirteen and a half years to gather myself. Maybe for you, it takes six months to watch me piece myself back together and sew up my broken edges. It is always easier to be the viewer than the actor, and I've always been quite a character, haven't I?

As with any good character, the show must go on, I suppose. The curtains were called, and they claimed the end, but I called bullshit and tore the curtains down.

Do not clap for me; this is not my finale. There is far more to come. You just have to stay for the second act.

#wilbur's rants #insanity ramblings #severely

[aurrai]

Story beats: Showing the main character's mindset change at the start of Act 2

Summary of the story so far:

In Act 1, Chiyo was forced out of the Normal World of her hometown where she lived with her father, mother, and older sister into the Special World of Kyoto where she lives in an okiya, a geisha house, and is in training as an apprentice geisha. Chiyo's goal is to run back to her hometown with her sister but she is caught and sent back to her okiya where her punishment for trying to run away is for her geisha training to be forfeit and her status reduced to that of a maid. She then finds out both her parents have passed away and her sister has run off. Now she has no Normal World to return to. Here is how Act 2 begins:

From MEMOIRS OF A GEISHA by Arthur Golden, Chapter 9 pp. 105-108.

---START OF TEXT---

Around the time of my sixty-fifth birthday, a friend sent me an article she'd found somewhere, called "The Twenty Greatest Geisha of Gion's Past." Or maybe it was the thirty greatest geisha, I don't remember. But there I was on the list with a little paragraph telling some things about me, including that I'd been born in Kyoto—which of course I wasn't. I can assure you I wasn't one of Gion's twenty greatest geisha either; some people have difficulty telling the difference between something great and something they've simply heard of. In any case, I would have been lucky to end up as nothing more than a bad geisha and an unhappy one, like so many other poor girls, if Mr. Tanaka had never written to tell me that my parents had died and that I would probably never see my sister again.

I'm sure you'll recall my saying that the afternoon when I first met Mr. Tanaka was the very best afternoon of my life, and also the very worst. Probably I don't need to explain why it was the worst; but you may be wondering how I could possibly imagine that anything good ever came of it. It's true that up until this time in my life Mr. Tanaka had brought me nothing but suffering; but he also changed my horizons forever. We lead our lives like water flowing down a hill, going more or less in one direction until we splash into something that forces us to find a new course. If I'd never met Mr. Tanaka, my life would have been a simple stream flowing from our tipsy house to the ocean. Mr. Tanaka changed all that when he sent me out into the world. But being sent out into the world isn't necessarily the same as leaving your home behind you. I'd been in Gion more than six months by the time I received Mr. Tanaka's letter; and yet during that time, I'd never for a moment given up the belief that I would one day find a better life elsewhere, with at least part of the family I'd always known. I was living only half in Gion; the other half of me lived in my dreams of going home. This is why dreams can be such dangerous things: they smolder on like a fire does, and sometimes consume us completely.

During the rest of the spring and all that summer following the letter, I felt like a child lost on a lake in the fog. The days spilled one after another into a muddle. I remember only snippets of things, aside from a constant feeling of misery and fear. One cold evening after winter had come, I sat a long while in the maids' room watching snow falling silently into the okiya's little courtyard. I imagined my father coughing at the lonely table in his lonely house, and my mother so frail upon her futon that her body scarcely sank into the bedding. I stumbled out into the courtyard to try to flee my misery, but of course we can never flee the misery that is within us.

Then in early spring, a full year after the terrible news about my family, something happened. It was the following April, when the cherry trees were in blossom once again; it may even have been a year to the day since Mr. Tanaka's letter. I was almost twelve by then and was beginning to look a bit womanly, even though Pumpkin still looked very much like a little girl. I'd grown nearly as tall as I would ever grow. My body would remain thin and knobby like a twig for a year or two more, but my face had already given up its childish softness and was now sharp around the chin and cheekbones, and had broadened in such a way as to give a true almond shape to my eyes. In the past, men had taken no more notice of me on the streets than if I had been a pigeon; now they were watching me when I passed them. I found it strange to be the object of attention after being ignored for so long.

In any case, very early one morning that April, I awoke from a most peculiar dream about a bearded man. His beard was so heavy that his features were a blur to me, as if someone had censored them from the film. He was standing before me saying something I can't remember, and then all at once he slid open the paper screen over a window beside him with a loud clack. I awoke thinking I'd heard a noise in the room. The maids were sighing in their sleep. Pumpkin lay quietly with her round face sagging onto the pillow. Everything looked just as it always did, I'm sure; but my feelings were strangely different. I felt as though I were looking at a world that was somehow changed from the one I'd seen the night before-peering out, almost, through the very window that had opened in my dream.

I couldn't possibly have explained what this meant. But I continued thinking about it while I swept the stepping-stones in the courtyard that morning, until I began to feel the sort of buzzing in my head that comes from a thought circling and circling with nowhere to go, just like a bee in a jar. Soon I put down the broom and went to sit in the dirt corridor, where the cool air from beneath the foundation of the main house drifted soothingly over my back. And then something came to mind that I hadn't thought about since my very first week in Kyoto.

Only a day or two after being separated from my sister, I had been sent to wash some rags one afternoon, when a moth came fluttering down from the sky onto my arm. I flicked it off, expecting that it would fly away, but instead it sailed like a pebble across the courtyard and lay there upon the ground. I didn't know if it had fallen from the sky already dead or if I had killed it, but its little insect death touched me. I admired the lovely pattern on its wings, and then wrapped it in one of the rags I was washing and hid it away beneath the foundation of the house.

I hadn't thought about this moth since then; but the moment it came to mind I got on my knees and looked under the house until I found it. So many things in my life had changed, even the way I looked; but when I unwrapped the moth from its funeral shroud, it was the same startlingly lovely creature as on the day I had entombed it. It seemed to be wearing a robe in subdued grays and browns, like Mother wore when she went to her mah-jongg games at night. Everything about it seemed beautiful and perfect, and so utterly unchanged. If only one thing in my life had been the same as during that first week in Kyoto ... As I thought of this my mind began to swirl like a hurricane. It struck me that we-that moth and I-were two opposite extremes. My existence was as unstable as a stream, changing in every way; but the moth was like a piece of stone, changing not at all. While thinking this thought, I reached out a finger to feel the moth's velvety surface; but when I brushed it with my fingertip, it turned all at once into a pile of ash without even a sound, without even a moment in which I could see it crumbling. I was so astonished I let out a cry. The swirling in my mind stopped; I felt as if I had stepped into the eye of a storm. I let the tiny shroud and its pile of ashes flutter to the ground; and now I understood the thing that had puzzled me all morning. The stale air had washed away. The past was gone. My mother and father were dead and I could do nothing to change it. But I suppose that for the past year I'd been dead in a way too. And my sister . . . yes, she was gone; but I wasn't gone. I'm not sure this will make sense to you, but I felt as though I'd turned around to look in a different direction, so that I no longer faced backward toward the past, but forward toward the future. And now the question confronting me was this: What would that future be?

The moment this question formed in my mind, I knew with as much certainty as I'd ever known anything that sometime during that day I would receive a sign. This was why the bearded man had opened the window in my dream. He was saying to me, "Watch for the thing that will show itself to you. Because that thing, when you find it, will be your future."

I had no time for another thought before Auntie called out to me:

"Chiyo, come here!"

// SCENE BREAK //

Well, I walked up that dirt corridor as though I were in a trance. It wouldn't have surprised me if Auntie had said, "You want to know about your future? All right, listen closely . . ." But instead she just held out two hair ornaments on a square of white silk.

"Take these," she said to me. "Heaven knows what Hatsumomo was up to last night; she came back to the okiya wearing another girl's ornaments. She must have drunk more than her usual amount of sake. Go find her at the school, ask whose they are, and return them."

---END OF TEXT---

Some things I noticed:

Paragraph 1: The chapter, the start of Act 2, begins with distant narration and then circles around to Chiyo's current situation.

Paragraph 2: A summary of events that have occurred so far

Paragraph 3: Introspection and summary of the rest of the spring and all that summer following the letter. Story moves forward.

Paragraph 4: Introspection and summary of early spring, also showing that Chiyo is starting to transition from child to teen through her looks. Story moves forward.

Paragraph 5: Introspection and summary of very early one morning that April. Story moves forward.

Then onwards we start to get into the scene, though there is still a lot of summary and introspection. The summary helps convey a lot of information in few words and the introspection helps make the character feel more human.

Chiyo's change of mindset explicitly stated: I felt as though I'd turned around to look in a different direction

Grounding in the new scene:

I had no time for another thought before Auntie called out to me:

"Chiyo, come here!"

Come to think of it, I think I've seen something similar in another book.

From PRINCE'S GAMBIT pp. 331-334, the start of Ch. 4

LAURENT, JUST TURNED twenty, and possessing an elaborate mind with a gift for planning, detached it from the petty intrigues of the court and set it loose on the broader canvas of this, his first command.

Damen watched it happen. It began when, after their long night of tactical discussion, Laurent addressed the troop with a portrait of their shortcomings. He did it from horseback, in a clear voice that carried to the farthest of the gathered men. He had listened to everything Damen had said last night. He had listened to a great deal more than that. As he spoke, there emerged nuggets that he could only have obtained from the servants and armourers and soldiers to whom, over the last three days, he had also been listening.

Laurent regurgitated the information in a manner that was as scintillant as it was scathing. When he was done, he threw the men a bone: perhaps they had been hampered by poor captaincy. They would therefore stop here in Nesson for a fortnight to accustom themselves to their new Captain. Laurent would personally lead them in a regime that would tax them, trim them and turn them into something approximating a company that could fight. If they could keep up with him.

But first, Laurent appended silkily, they would unpack and make camp here again, from kitchens to tents to horse enclosure. In under two hours.

The men swallowed it. They would not have, had Laurent not taken on their leader and beaten him, point for point, the day before. Even then, they might have baulked had the order come from an indolent superior, but from the first day, Laurent had worked hard without comment or complaint. That, too, had been calculated to within a hair.

And so they got to work. They hauled out tents and hammered in posts and pegs and unsaddled all the horses. Jord gave crisp, pragmatic orders. The tent lines looked straight for the first time since they had ridden out.

And then it was done. Two hours. It was still too long, but it was better by far than the sprawling chaos of the last few evenings.

Re-saddle, was the first order, and there followed a series of mounted drills that were designed to be easy on the horses and brutal on the men. Damen and Laurent had planned the drills out together last night, with some input from Jord, who had joined them in the grey hours of the morning. Truthfully, Damen had not expected Laurent to take part in the drills himself, but he did, setting the pace.

Reining his horse alongside Damen’s, Laurent said, ‘You have your two extra weeks. Let’s see what we can do with them.’

In the afternoon they switched to line work: lines that broke again, and again, and again, until finally they didn’t, if only because everyone was too weary to do anything but mindlessly follow commands. The day’s drills had pushed even Damen, and when they were done, he felt, for the first time in a long time, as though something had been accomplished.

The men returned to camp boneless and exhausted with no energy to complain that their leader was a blond, blue-eyed fiend, curse him. Damen saw Aimeric sprawled by one of the campfires with his eyes closed, like a man collapsed after a foot race. The stubbornness of character that had had Aimeric picking fights with men twice his size had also had him keeping up with the drills, no matter the barriers of pain and fatigue that he had had to push through physically. At least he would not be able to cause trouble in this state. No one would be picking fights: they were too tired.

As Damen watched, Aimeric opened his eyes and gave an empty-eyed stare at the fire.

Despite the complications Aimeric presented to the troop, Damen felt a stirring of sympathy. Aimeric was only nineteen, and this was obviously his first campaign. He looked out of place and alone. Damen detoured.

‘It’s your first time in a company?’ he said.

Here, too, the start of Act 2 begins with a new chapter

Paragraph 1: the chapter begins with distant narration

Paragraph 2: Summary of events (eg, their long night of tactical discussion,) but also moving forward with the story (Laurent addressed the troop)

Paragraph 3 onwards: Summary and introspection (Damen's interpretation) of events. Story moves forward.

Eventually the Writer grounds the scene: Damen saw Aimeric sprawled by one of the campfires with his eyes closed.

Where is the main character's mindset change? Maybe it's that Damen is starting to feel hope that the company he's found himself in might actually be able to be trained to win a fight? The day’s drills had pushed even Damen, and when they were done, he felt, for the first time in a long time, as though something had been accomplished.

So I guess this is a technique for starting Act 2 if you've got nothing else:

Start a new chapter

Summarise events in the story so far

Move the story forward by summarising some event/s leading up to the character's mindset change

Be sure to show the main character's feelings about everything through introspection and voice

Explicitly state the character's mindset change

Ground the next scene

#text analysis #writing techniques #story beats: beginning Act 2

[from-our-boxes]

The House : A Dark and Twisted Anthology Movie

by Ryann Nguyen

“- There is nothing better out there anyway.  

-  For those who decided not to find it, there can be nothing.”

The following quote is stated from the movie The house (2022), a British anthology tale that revolves around different stories of a strange house. Written by Emma Walsh, this is one of the very few animation movies that can make you watch several times but still don't understand its plot, as well as its layers of meaning. The House introduced audiences to a dark world where every ticking second is a new adventure to the land of mystery.

Remarkably Weird: Full of Mystery and Curiosity

Image from Netflix trailer

This is not a haunted story. Breaking out of the horror movie rules of haunted buildings, The House shows audiences a different take on how dark a movie could be without jump scares and bloody details. Consisting of three different stories that occur at the same place, the movie let audiences follow the lives of various kinds of characters who appear to be victims of one house. 

The first story featured a poor family, who received an offer to move from their old house to a luxurious new house. After moving in, their oldest daughter, Mabel, starts to notice strange things about the house and its residents. Her parents begin to lose their minds and act in such a peculiar manner that she can not recognize them anymore. The question here is, whether did they get consumed by the darkness of the house, or did they change themself in order to pursue an expensive life that does not belong to them? 

In the second story, audiences are introduced to a nameless housing broker with the appearance of a mouse. Setting in a developed society, our main character tries his best to give out a great performance and become successful with his job. Nonetheless, although he puts in massive effort to sell the house, it seems that the house already has different plans for him.

Moving to our last story, the house is now owned by Rosa, a passionate cat landlord who always believes in the potential of her house.  Despite being devoted to the house with the desire to turn it into a dream house, Rosa is lack both intellectual ability and financial capacity. Things start to take an even worse turn when all of her tenants refuse to pay their renting fee, leaving Rosa stressed out and hopeless with a broken house. In the end, it is her choice to abandon the house forever, or continue to live with a hopeless dream. 

Aesthetic of the Movie

One of the most successful aspects of The house is the amazing visual design. The amazing animation appears to be aesthetically pleasing while bringing viewers uneasy moments throughout the whole movie. 

The storyline in each part of the movie always starts with a peaceful atmosphere that depicts the adorable life of each character, and then soon takes an unexpected turn to become something much more twisted. Although there is no gore detail in The house, the movie still has a grimy and shadowy color palette with horror details that could haunt viewers for a long time after watching the film. Simple, yet elegant frames also have a strong impact on promoting the characteristic of each scene. The heavier the atmosphere is pushed, the classic characteristics of humans are more strongly represented through animal figures and likewise. Bringing dark subtlety to another level, The House is successful in embracing the new emerging aesthetic of horror. 

Image from Netflix trailer

Major Themes and Impact

The House can be a very controversial story based on how it can make audiences feel uneasy throughout the journey, even though at the same time they could sympathize with all the characters.

A work full of dramatic elements: family tragedy, a bit of dark humor, lessons about the value of money and the price of greed,... The movie definitely gives audiences a lot of things to think about when it ends. As audiences, we see the suffering of Mabel, Rosa, and various characters. We also are able to witness the cruel reality of our society and how it has failed the lower class. At the end of the journey, the pitfall that sends the characters to a vicious cycle of suffering is money. All their irrational actions are prompted by the lack of money, which leads to the idea of how people have been controlled by money and the rule of the rich. As audiences, we are brought back to reality, where everybody is the victim of a merciless society that has no way out. 

What this movie does extremely well is that it gives viewers a fresh portrayal of humankind within the form of a peculiar magical world. Even though the idea is not new, how they approach audiences with dark encounters and cruel twists is something that is not always seen in animation movies. Although The house has no “bad guy” and “good guy”, it still makes us question those ideals of “the good and the bad” we had before.

Final thoughts

Within the time of approximately one and a half hours, The house did a great job in carrying deep messages throughout the ordinary life of different characters. Classic details that seem to be old-fashioned are now used extremely creatively in The House to create a compelling storyline. Beautiful character design and aesthetics visual elements also contribute greatly to the success of the movie. Overall, I would give The house a 9/10.

#moviereview #thehouse

[babyjakes]

forever and a day | 16. clean.

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summary | a story in which america’s favorite captain gives a new life and family to a five-year-old girl who has suffered well beyond her years at the hands of hydra.

characters | dad!steve rogers, girl/willa rogers (original character)

warnings | AU similar enough to OU to include spoilers to many Marvel movies (Age of Ultron and beyond). mature themes related to and semi-graphic depictions of the aftermath of child abuse/neglect (emaciation, wounds, scarring, etc). mentions/descriptions of past CSA and CSM. medical abuse and experimentation. ptsd/trauma symptoms in a child (developmental discrepancies, de-humanized behavior, detachment, extreme fears). medical treatment of CSM and other aftermath of abuse.somewhat evil!Tony Stark (eventually).

[Steve]

“Not scary,” Girl mumbles quietly to herself as I begin preparing things for her bath, the wavering in her voice letting know that more than anything, she’s trying to convince herself of this. My heart softens at her efforts.

“Not scary,” I repeat back to her gently, grabbing a towel and placing it down on the ground for her to step out on when she’s done. Reaching out over the empty basin, I turn the crank the faucet dial to the left, the sudden rushing sound causing Girl to jump. Softening my expression towards the child, I send her a sympathetic smile, feeling just as bad as I always do when I accidentally startle her. I check the temperature periodically with my hand, and as soon as it feels comfortable, I push down on the plug. Slowly, the water level begins to rise.

Turning back to Girl, my gaze catches hers, causing her to flinch. Looking around the bathroom, I wish I had a rubber duck or toy boat to throw in the bath, just to act as some sort of distraction for the little one. Unfortunately, all of this has been so last-minute; we have the essentials, but there are a lot of things we should still compile into a shopping list to go grab soon.

“Okay, sweetheart. While that’s filling up, should we get you out of your clothes?” At my words, the small girl’s eyes widen as she takes an instinctive step back, bumping up against the door that’s now closed behind her. As her hands come up from her sides to form a defensive position, she looks at me, her eyes swelling with fear. Softening my posture, I lower my voice, murmuring, “It’s alright, Girl. I won’t hurt you.” Cautiously, I shift towards the child, only for her to strain her body further up against the door, trembling helplessly. “Hey, you’re okay. Can you take some deep breaths? In, and out, there you go. It’s just me, remember? Just Stevie.”

“Just S-Stevie,” Girl stutters, trying her best to match her breathing to my words.

“Yep, just Stevie. You’re safe, doll; nothing bad’s gonna happen to you.” Not wanting to push her too quickly, but also wanting to move her along to show her how just how safe she is, I ask, “Do you think we can take off your shirt and your bottoms? You can keep your underwear on if you want. They’ll get wet, but we can put on dry ones when you get out.” More than anything, I just want to do as much as I can to make this an easier, less frightening process for her. Because of her traumatic past, hopefully covering her most vulnerable parts will make this a little bit more bearable. The girl considers my offer for several moments, but ultimately nods, prompting me to give her an encouraging smile.

Her shaky arms reach down to the hem of her shirt, carefully lifting it up and off of her body. She holds it in both of her hands, looking confused as to where to put it.

“Here, I can take that,” I tell her warmly, reaching out and taking the blouse from her. Folding it up loosely, I set it on the counter. Girl watches my every move, clearly still skeptical of me and my motives during this new experience. When I turn back to her, she looks down at her pants, her fingers finding their way to the button above the zipper. She fumbles with it for a few good seconds before I offer, “Here, do you want some help with that?”

The child looks up at me and nods, her cheeks turning pink. As I inch closer to her, she once again presses herself back against the door, my heartache only worsening for the fearful girl. As carefully as I can, I reach out and tug down on the zipper. I then unbutton the button at the top, saying softly, “There you go, sweetie.”

Her hands move down and find the waistline of the pants, but before she proceeds, a nervous expression forms on her face. Glancing up at me for a moment, her mouth opens as if she’s about to say something, but then it appears she stops herself. Closing her mouth, the little girl gulps, her eyes falling to the floor. “Hey, what is it, doll?” I ask carefully. Biting her lip anxiously, Girl is quiet, seemingly unable to let herself speak. “It’s alright, sweetheart,” I soothe, “you can tell me.”

“W-will… can- can Girl have c'othes after, too? P-please?” she asks, sounding terrified that the answer might be ‘no.’

“Hey, of course you can,” I tell her, my eyebrows furrowing in concern, absolutely devastated that she would worry about something like that. Relaxing slightly at my answer, Girl nods, seeming relieved with the promise of not staying naked forever. Reaching down, she slips her legs out of her pants, handing them to me. As she does so, I’m finally met with the sight of her standing before me, nothing other than her underwear covering her frail body.

It’s a heartbreaking sight. The tiny child’s bones stick out from every angle; I can count each and every one of her ribs. Her chest bones are prominent in a way I’ve never seen before, her hip bones jutting out sharply beneath the elastic waistband of the pastel underwear. Her knees look like knobs, knocking against one another. The gap between her thighs makes her look as if she hasn’t eaten a single proper meal in her life. Her skin itself is littered with bruises and scars, some places seeming to be freshly discolored, still going through the healing process. There are permanent marks on her wrists and ankles, most likely from the chains they kept her in. Jagged slashes run along her sides, trailing to her back, presumably from some sort of whip. Dark spots form patches across her hips and thighs. I swallow down anger, knowing exactly what those marks are from.

As my gaze finds its way back up to the little girl’s face, I realize that I’ve been staring. The poor thing looks back at me with tear-filled eyes, her bottom lip quivering. “S-Sorry,” she whimpers, her voice dripping with shame as her arms moving self-consciously to cover her stomach and sides.

“Oh no, hey- it’s okay. I’m sorry, sweetheart; I didn’t mean to stare. I was just… I’m so sorry, Girl. I’m so sorry they hurt you. Nobody deserves to be treated this way.” Girl’s gaze drops shamefully to the floor as guilt rises in my chest. “You don’t have to apologize or be embarrassed, okay?” I promise her. “No matter what they did to you.” I’m about to say more when I remember that the water’s still running. Turning to look briefly, I notice it’s just about reached the perfect spot. Scooting over on my knees, I off the water flow before turning back to Girl, I tell her, “Alright, pumpkin. The water’s ready; do you wanna come get in?”

The child blinks a few times, looking at the filled tub with an extremely wary look on her face. To my surprise, though, she takes the few short steps over to stand beside me. “S'gonna be c-cold?” she asks carefully.

“No, not cold. I made sure it was nice and warm.”

“H-hot?” she whimpers, flinching back.

“No, not hot either. It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s warm enough to not feel cool, but no warmer than that; it should feel nice and comfortable. And if it doesn’t, we can change it.”

Eyes still glued to the tub, Girl looks warily down at the surface, the water still rippling out slightly.

“Here, do you wanna test it with your hand before you get in? That way, if you don’t like it, we can fix it?”

Seeming a little bit more open to that idea, Girl nods, shakily reaching her hand out to hover the top of the water. Then, she braces herself, closing her eyes and stiffening as if preparing for a blow, before gingerly lowering her fingers until they break the surface. She tenses at the immediate contact, but as soon as she’s able to feel the tepidness of the water, her eyes blink open again, her expression flooding with relief.

“Does it feel okay?” I ask gently. Girl nods, noticeably calmer now that she’s sure the temperature won’t hurt her. “Good. Do you want to get in now, doll? I can help you so you don’t slip.”

Turning to me, the child nods again. When I offer her my hand, she hesitantly accepts it, flinching slightly as I place my other hand on her shoulder to steady her, steadying her as she awkwardly lifts up one leg and shifts her body over into the tub. Carefully, I ease her down so that she’s sitting. Her face has grown mild now, the warm water appearing to be soothing her sore body.

“There you go. That okay?” I ask. Girl looks up at me and nods.

“Warm,” she breathes. “Feels good.”

“Good,” I say with a loving smile, grabbing the sponge from the tub-side along with the bottle of soap. Squirting out a decent amount onto the sponge, I pump it a few times in my hand to get the suds foaming. The little one watches me intently, her eyes wide with wonder. “Okay, sweetheart. I’m gonna use this sponge to wash you now; is that alright? I’ll be very gentle, and if anything hurts you just tell me and I’ll stop.”

“Bubbles,” she states innocently, pointing to the sponge.

“That’s right,” I smile at her. “Lots of bubbles.”

Starting the sponge on her shoulders, Girl winces, not seeming too thrilled about the soft object, but at least tolerating it for now. “Have you blown bubbles with Peter yet?” I ask, trying to take her mind off of the cleaning as I move the sponge across her pale skin. She shakes her head. “You’ll have to remind him to show you,” I encourage her. “I’m pretty sure he has a bubble machine in his room.”

Having finished with the front of her body, I shift my focus to her back, but quickly stop once her expression turns to one of great pain, tears beginning to spring from her eyes before I even know what’s happened. “Hey,” I coo quickly, not sure what went wrong, “you’re okay it’s okay. What’s wrong, honey? Does something hurt? What’re all these tears for?” I ask gently.

Girl bites down on her bottom lip, her eyes drooping miserably. The look on her face is one I know well: she isn’t sure what she’s allowed to say, so she’s opting to not say anything. Which was probably a helpful survival mechanism when she was with Hydra, but currently isn’t doing much to assist either of us.

“Does something hurt?” I ask again carefully, rising up a little bit on my knees and peering over her to try to get a better look. At this, the child cowers, whimpering in fear.

“S-sorry,” she stutters, her bottom lip trembling miserably.

Taking the sponge again, I run it as lightly as I can over the little girl’s back, trying to find the area causing the issue. A writhe pulses through her body and I frown, removing the sponge and looking into the child’s big green eyes. “Sure seems like it hurts to me, sweetheart,” I murmur sympathetically, not wanting to scare her or make her think she’s in any trouble.

“S-stings,” Girl sniffles, her eyes squeezing shut for a moment as she admits to her discomfort.

Looking at the broad lash-markings running down her back, taking a gentle hand, brushing it over the tender flesh. Girl flinches, letting out another quiet whine. “Is it here, where these marks are?” I ask her. She nods. “Okay, darlin’. I’ll make sure not to touch them. Can you tell me what happened?” I ask as I resume with the sponge, being extra intentional about avoiding the gashes. Given closer inspection, the lines themselves have notches to them, almost making it look like whatever she was struck with had some sort of blades or edges attached.

The small girl blinks her tears away, her body slightly shrinking in on itself, something she does consistently when asked difficult questions. After a few moments of hesitating, she finally gives an answer. “Wh-whip,” she says, cowering slightly, as if the admission might get her in trouble.

Heart aching at the confirmation of my suspicions, I shake my head. “Oh doll, I’m so sorry. That looks like an awful nasty whip,” I observe. “What are all the jagged edges from? Were there spikes on it or something?” Girl nods, and I sigh, left speechless at the sight. The atrocities that she endured seem to never end.

Once finished with her back, I scrub her arms, and then her legs. She stays perfectly still and quiet through the whole process, the only noise or movement being the occasional whimper or flinch in fear. When I’m done, I set the sponge back down on the side of the tub.

“Okay, Girl. I’m going to try washing your hair now,” I tell her gently. Picking up the shampoo bottle, I open it with a click, drizzling the gel directly onto the child’s damp mess of hair. Soon, the sweet aroma of crisp apples fills the air, and Girl inhales deeply, appearing to be fond the scent. When I reach out to begin working it into her hair, however, she jumps, looking up at me fearfully.

“Please- d-don’t pull it,” she begs.

“I won’t pull it, I promise. I’ll be as careful as I can,” I promise.

“Don’t pull it out, please don’t,” she continues to plead.

“Of course I won’t, sweetie pie,” I soothe. It seems that not a single part of her was left untouched or unharmed by her captors. “I’ll be real gentle. And if it hurts, you just tell me, okay?” Girl nods nervously, probably not feeling like she has much of a choice.

Starting at the base of her hair, I gently massage my fingers against the child’s scalp until the shampoo is distributed evenly along her whole head. She eventually leans in a bit during this process, causing me to smile at her warmly. As I continue to try to move the shampoo through her hair, I struggle with large knotted sections, doing my best to not tug or hurt the poor kid. Eventually, after a few rinses, I try adding the conditioner, but none of it helps; there are a few large clumps that simply refuse to come untangled.

“We might need to give you a haircut,” I frown sadly. “There are some knots so big in here, I don’t know if we can get them out.”

“S-sorry,” Girl mumbles guiltily. I shake my head.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s not your fault. Nothing that happened to there you was ever your fault,” I tell her sincerely

Once the shampoo and conditioner have been rinsed out of the child’s mess of hair, I realize that we’re done. Reaching down into the water, I pull out the plug, the bath slowly beginning to drain with a low gurgling noise. Girl looks at me with wide eyes as I take the towel from where I set it on the floor, opening it up in front of her.

“Okay, we’re all done. Can you stand up for me, and I can wrap this around you?” Girl does as she’s asked, shaking a little bit from the cold as I envelop her in the fluffy pink towel. After rubbing it across her body to try and get her at least somewhat dry, I move the plush fabric up to her head and pat it across her hair before wrapping her up in it again, offering her my hand to help her out of the tub.

Once the little girl’s standing on the tile, I lean down and pick her up in my arms. She’s startled at first, but quickly relaxes as I head out of the bathroom, shutting off the light behind me.

Setting her down on the bed, I move to the dresser. “Okay, Girl. Let’s get you some new clothes, and some dry underwear, too.” I pull out a white sweater with flowers on it, along with some plain black leggings, and a pair of underwear. Then, I return to the girl on the bed, unwrapping the towel and making sure she’s dry. “Here, do you want me to look away and you can put on the clothes?” The child nods. Handing the clothes to her, I turn around, covering my eyes as promised.

I hear movement behind me, and after a few minutes, the girl’s soft voice calls, “Done.”

Turning back to Girl, I remove the wet towel from the bed beside her, setting it down on the floor. Taking a seat next to her, I run my hand over her hair gently. “Do you feel a little bit better?” She nods. “Good,” I say. “I think-”

Before I can finish my sentence, the door bursts open from behind us without warning. Girl jumps as we both turn to see Natasha standing in the doorway, a panicked look on her face.

“Steve, quick. We have to move,” the spy says.

“What’s going on?” I ask, instantly growing worried.

Nat’s eyes lock with mine, and the fear shining in them makes my heart drop to the pit of my stomach. “Security breach, internal. Someone’s broken out.”

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