#my writing was so horrible and so poorly done that it offended them

[thebottomfromhell]

Hello. I do not know if your request are open, but if they are could you please write courting headcanons for upper 1.2.3 like you did before? If yaou do not want it is okay (sorry. English is not my first language)

Requests are always open, I just might take a while in some. Don't worry, if anyone wants me to right anything as long as it follows the rules of the blog, I will. I did promise to do this if anyone wanted so to this I will add Gyokko and Nakime, so:

Traditional Courting [more or less], Demon Male Reader. (Also no sexual content).

First part here.

Warnings: Cannibalism, Human death, Mentioned suicide, Trauma(?) dumping, angst (why the fuck I can't write Akaza without angst?)

Kokushibou:

You first asked him for permission to court Kokushibou, he only told you to get out of his sight. You did.

A few months later Nakime summoned you into meeting him again in the Infinity Castle. You were told you would be, not only courting Kokushibou, but staying with him to search the family that leads the Demon Slayer Corps, Ubuyashiki.[Muzan got tired of Kokushibou not finding anything and started to relate it to him just not searching at all, so you are there to remind him and motivate him to do so.]

Kokushibou was not very happy with these news,offended that a man wanted to court him and give him the traditional women's role, but accepted gracefully the orders. At first, he only ever ignored you, but you slowly, very slowly, managed to spot what would awake his attention as you both searched through all Japan (it gave you more time the fact uou disn't know how to recognize the Ubuyashiki he send you after and Kokushibou seemed to get lost in his mind more often than not). But even after he was not the one to start a conversation, he prefered to spend time in quietness and quiescence. He barely eats, barely does anything other than meditate and practice his breathing forms. It's like he's more a slayer than a demon, but you don't mind.

Kokushibou just doesn't take anything you offer he doesn't like, and it takes you months to figure out his taste in gifts and food. Turns out he likes handicrafts, not buyed or stolen, but actually made from the one who gives the gift, not caring for quality of the product, but for the effort. You found out since he had a small and horribly done bamboo flute with a clean cut in his robes, when you tried to make another flute he also kept it. "It's.... I feel like you care. The fact that you did it yourself... It's personal." So you use rocks, paper, bamboo, clothing, wood and other things you find and steal to try and make jewelry, fans, karakuri boxes, origami and so. He always takes them, even the ones that are made poorly.

As for the food, again, he barely eats, but you only have ever seen him eat swordsmen, mostly samurais, but it's like everytime they are harder to find [the samurai class was abolished at 1868]. You decide to motivate him into trying new meals, he doesn't eat old men nor slayers, but you later find out he didn't even like the taste of the samurai "I don't know why, but it feels right for them to die by a demon." You did find a new favorite, buddhist monks, the closer to the Nirvana the better.

He doesn't like to be called anything other than his name, and he prefers the use of honorifics. He is also not kin in starting physical contact, but with time he starts accepting your approaches. Most of the time he just likes to sit down and listen you talk or having you hughing him in silence. There are times he starts conversation, he talks a lot in those, being more a monologue than anything else.

"I only want to become the best. Become more than... but it doesn't matter anymore. Right now you want to become part of my life, you wanted that so badly you went to Muzan-sama for it, and for some reason he decided to grant you what you wanted. I don't understand what he saw in you, but... your presence is now something important. Just make sure to always be behind me, reaching for me, and I will always be near to accept you." Honestly, he always speaks so cryptically you gave up in the meaning bahind of what he says, he never explains it. But you try your best to be understanding.

You spend hour days moving and searching, everytime you act more like a nomad married couple, but you never get a ceremony. Kokushibou would only like something 100% traditional and samurai cultured [just like his human marriage was], but with the timeline, you both being male, you both being demons, none of you having families, money or knowing your ancestors, it's just impossible.

"I don't mind if we stay like this forever, just you and I." He whispers against your embrace one day. This is still good, after all.

Douma:

When you asked Douma permission to court him, he was already taking you him for you to get the blessing. Douma was very interest in what you had to offer, but to be fair, he genuinely though he would kill you or you would cower down, but none of them happened. Once you asked for the blessing he only looked at you both with anger and disgust, and the second his eyes where focused on you only, you could sense a mix of indignation, confusion, pity, disappointment and indecision. At the end he only sighs and told you to get lost and that he is not dealing with it. "Oh, well. He didn't say no. I guess we are courting now, aren't we?" And that is how started.

Douma has a hard time not being the center of attention, so the traditional female role suits him just fine. He likes how often you go to his place and always invites you to stay over. He is very kin in petnames, but to your surprise he likes also more feminine ones, and doesn't mind being called "Princess" or other nicknames specifically adressed for women. "Being called princess feels nice, it's a very pretty way to call someone in a golden cage, stuck in a throne they were born to sit it. I would just adore it if you called me that."

Douma is always way too honest with you, sometimes dumping into you informations and expreriences that are actually traumatizing but he doesn't seem to care. He also likes when you validate his feeling, even the ones he doesn't actually feel. Other times he wants you to go against him, only for the sake that he can do anything he wants and nobody would stop him. You wonder if that is how he expresses freedom, since he already told you he has been all his life inside this cult as a if he was a living Buddha statue.

He is ok with any gift, every gift. No matter what you get him, he never shows preference. There was only two gifts that definetely managed to get through him. Those two you gave him in a desperate attempt for him to show any type of reaction for what you gave him instead of a "Oh, lovely. I will save them in the warehouse so nothing happens to them." It was a broken nichirin blade (now looking like a knife) and wisteria poison the same user of said blade had with them. Douma always carries them with him. "My mother killed my father with a knife, and then she poisoned herself. It was my first encounter with death, these gifts make me nostalgic. My heart never beat so fast before that and I remember wanting to leave but not being able to move. Is that what disgust feels like?" Should you regret giving him that?

It's well known Douma eats woman like a drunk drinks alcohol, so you thought his favorite meal is something that could only be found in a female human body, like the uterus, breast, ovaries, fetuses, unborn babies, placenta or something like that. To your surprise, he likes to eat the heart the most, still full of blood, hopefully, since it's an organ very mild-tasting, but tender. He likes any healthy heart, and getting those is rather easy. He also sometimes likes to eat human food, only for the sake of being able to eat anything he feels like and the sickness it brings. "You would be a good husband, taking care of me like now when I do something fun but stupid. You would stay with me forever after our marriage, wouldn't you?"

In the end, after a year of courting, he sends his followers to prepare the wedding under your guiding, he isn't really part of the process and makes no effort to be so. You end up as his consort inside his cult, the marriage is a peaceful one, but you still try every day to try and make Douma feel hapiness. Still trying. At least you had a great ceremony, expensive and big, with everyone of Douma's followers watching with joy. After the ceremony Douma picked a cult member that fitted the best in your taste and shared him with you. "Now, as a part of me, you should be able to give eternal life to this people, inside of you. Living forever just as they wished from the start, now witnesses of our beautiful love story."

(Also, Douma tried to invite Akaza to the wedding, it didn't work.)

Akaza:

You asked Akaza permission first, he stays paralyzed for straight ten minutes, lost hin his mind with a disturbed face. His first reaction, after he shakes his head, is to tell you you would need his blessing. At first he denies you, but before you manage to leave he tells you he changed his mind. That Akaza is very hardworking and deserves to be spoiled a bit, so you better make him feel good. [Muzan did want to give you to Akaza as a reward, but also as something that would motivate him to get even stronger and work even harder.] "I didn't expect him to... forget it. Just don't get in my way, we need to look for a damn blue spider lily or whatever."

It takes him a while to warm up to you, but even before that he gets protective and doesn't let you out of his sight. He doesn't even care for the fact you are a man, just that you are there and safe. He also seems to like when you call him a certain pet name "my Komainu", you call him because of how protective he is, sometimes you call him "Haku" as it's shorter. He seems both sad and happy at the same time when you do. He even has told you he likes it more than his own name, for some reason.

He is bad taking gifts, for some reason he always worries too much about the price or starts to fret if they were stolen. "Just sto doing that! It's not like I need anything, it's just some stuff. You are only causing trouble, running around and stealing like that will only make you lose your hands! And he will kill himself!" Sometimes he says things that don't make sense even to himself, but he worries a lot. Still, you know he likes pink and snowflake patterns. So you try to make your own gifts with those traits, he keeps everything close, tidi and clean.

Akaza is very vocal in not eating women, small children (he can eat teens), nor sick people. While he likes to kill weak and coward people, he is not fond on eating them. He likes to eat slayers and swordsmen, so it's a bit hard for you to get the meals he likes without dying at the process, but you manage. He is a very messy eater, he destroys more of the body than he eats, but spends a good time doing so. It's like he hates the food, likes the taste and, as any other demon, loves to eat. Still, he prefers relying on training than in eating.

"You are not a bad guy yourself, thank you for... taking care of me. Taking me in." You train with him amd try to adapt to his eating paterns, in result, you get stronger. No way near to an Upper Moon level, and definetely not as fast and efficient as eating woman would be, but you are very strong. Plus, you manage to catch a Marechi with the traits Akaza likes twice or thrice in the courting years, which helped. "You are every day stronger and helthier, make sure to take care of yourself. I will still protect you, but don't do anything stupid."

You spent five years courting him, Akaza was very hesitant on accepting to marry you. "It's not that I don't love you, Y/N. I would love to be your husband, that you vould be my husband but... but you will die! I don't know why or how but you will die amd it will be my fault! I won't be able to protect you!" He rambles, clearly distressed, the first time you ask him, you have to embrace him and cuddle him for around a week. It takes a lot of time, but you manage to reassure him everything will be ok.

You both prepare the wedding, slowly, very slowly, even with the limited resources. You make sure to listen what he wants. A ceremony on winter, under the snow, with fireworks at the end, at an specific town, a small event, and then to go home. He gets scared and needs a pause for every preparation you make and item you steal, but you don't mind waiting. You managed to fool a young buddhist to marry you both, it was a beautiful ceremony. Akaza cried during it, then spend the rest of the month cuddling and crying with you. "Please don't die, don't die. I beg you, stay with me. Don't die, don't fucking die on me. Please."

You keep taking care of him after you get married, and he stills hugs you everytime as if you would die the moment he lets you go. Sooner or later he will realize nothing will happen to you, but for now you must be ready to comfort him and calm him down.

(Also, the second Douma found out Akaza was married and he wasn't invited, he decided to make a second wedding by himself ans his followers, forced you into it so he could be in it.)

Nakime:

How did you even get here? Like, again? The second you asked permission to court her she threw you out of the Infinity Castle, only to bring you back with her and him in less than a day later. Guess what, you've got the permission, the blessing and even an order from him. How? Why? No idea. [Yes idea. Have you seen Nakime's blood art? Also the fact she dislikes men in general and Muzan, who may disguise as much as he wants but is still a HE, forces her to welcome them in her home? She is too important to lose, so your job is to make like you enough so if she wants to rebel he can have something on her that would not kill her.] But who are you to say no to him, even with Nakime glaring dagger towards you.

The first weeks everytime you try to speak to her she sends you somewhere else. You are lucky that because of his orders, she doesn't throw you at the sun or starve you. It takes you a year for her to stop toying around with you.

Even before that you were getting her gifts and food. You did the basics, get her biwa strings and other materials sl she can take care of the instrument. [She doesn't really need them since her biwa is part of her blood art, it maintain itself, but she liked the gesture and the attention]. She also likes kimono's, she kept most of what you got her, some of them were not of her liking, but besides that, the feeling of filling a wardrobe made feel wealthy, but you have seen her wearing them. She is not a person of jewelry, but she kept a few of the ones you got her, mostly the ones for her hair. Every once in a while you find with one of those with part of her hair pulled up.

Her diet are mostly men, drunk men to be more clear. It's a weird taste since the slcohol tends to ruin the blood, and it's even more weird that she actually likes the lungs and vocal cords, but you don't comment on it. You had to ask him for this information since you never once saw her eat before you.

"I appreciate the gifts." It was the first time she said to you two years after you asked permission to court her. She was never the one to hold long conversations, and you were not the exception, but she did like to play and sing for you. You always show interest in her music, and she likes the positive attention. She likes when you call her nicknames related to music. "Dear melody" "My artist" and "Beats" are names she react positively.

It took you three teats for her to finally accept you, but she was hesitant. "I do warn you, if you change your attitude and become a deadbeat husband I will confine you into an endless corridor of my domain for you to starve until you kill yourselve." You swear the besides singing you never heard her voice say so many things in less than hours of difference. She is serious.

Still, you let her handle the ceremony the way she liked it as you got the priest and another kimono for her. For your surprise, not only the halls were decorated, but he would assist as well with his favorite Uppermoons. Nakime was not as pleased with their presence, but she wanted him there on this special night.

It went well to both of you and you started to stay with her at her domain, you kept doing gestures for her and helped in everything you could. She is happy with that.

Gyokko:

You ask Gyokko permission first, he only allows it because, of course you are enamored by him! Who in their sane mind wouldn't? If you want to show appreciation, then who is he to deny you? He will let you court him, but warning. One mistake and you're out.

When you asked him for the blessing, he looked at you for seconds as if you said both the most stupid yet interesting question one could ask. After a few seconds he decided that it wasn't his business and told you to do as you pleased. Gyokko was a bit offended by this but there wasn't anything anyone could do.

As for gifts, Gyokko likes art in general, so you could get him pieces or material for his pots. He appreciates it very much, since you show attention to his interests. "Oh, Y/N! You've got such a good taste! I may consider you as a husband later on, such a beautiful pigments, and you say they are foreign! I don't care if you stole them or buyed them, but I would love if you got me~" And to your surprise, his favorite art collection is actually the Thirty-six Views of Mount Fuji fron Hokusai. "Stamping is, in my humble opinion as an artist, crass. But still, the motive is beautiful and has a very nice display of perspective." You get him the 46 prints.

Gyokko is very picky with his food, he only ever eats people with soft and tender skin and flesh, healthy organs, a clean body and a a face that's at least easy on the eyes. "Appearances help the appetite!" he explained the last point. But to be honest all of these traits together are easier to fing in young women and children, and he prefers the last one. Gyokko hates children, with his soul. Another dead child instantly makes his day better, so he gets very happy if you get him some to eat.

He hates nicknames, but he likes to use them. He also starts making you pots and sharing his food for you before the year ends, enamored by your accommodating attitude towards him. He also loves when you touch and massage his body, specially his scales in his last form. He loves that he is able to relax with you. "Oh, darling. Who would have though a beauty like me could fall for someone like you... no offense."

The moment you ask for his hand he jumps at the chance to design his own wedding, not letting you choose anything but still expecting you to help. Still, in arts and decoration he got good taste, so uou trust his judgement. It was a big event he filled with his summounings, javing the sits full. He made his sadistic art of joining men in a pot with some priests, who were the ones who married you.

"I bet you are very happy to be married to me, dear husband. You've got very lucky. I hope you keep amusing me as always~" It's good, he is still the center of attention. But you are both ok like that, besides you also keep getting presents from him and starts teaching you how to make pots. Also got you a grand honeymoon in the Tokashiki Island with his pots, in the Aharen beach, so no complaining.

[Keep him away from the children, please.]

Bonus: Gifts for the child

Kaigaku is still new at being a demon, he likes to collect things that remind him to his human life. Don't misunderstand, he is proud of his new strength and the fact he survived the Upper Moon One after just becoming a slayer, but he didn't ask to become a demon, it was just that the options were dying or that. He likes specially peach seeds, nichirin blades and cheap haoris. As for meals, he likes to eat young people, hopefully weak and male.

#kny headcanons #top reader #kny x reader #demon slayer #kny #upper moons #kokushibou #akaza #douma #gyokko #nakime #kaigaku #male reader #courting

[butwhatifidothis]

Who on your side is going to call you out? Literally every recruitable character except Bernadetta and Lindhardt? And you CAN'T objectively say that the route leaves an objectively worse off Fodlan. A lot of the characters have the exact same single endings they do in other routes. Meaning a lot of their endings are nice and happy and hopeful despite the fact they aided in the conquest of a nation. Hell, some single character endings specific to crimson flower STILL end happily despite this. Alois happily moves to remire and becomes a farmer with his family. Mercedes opens up an orphanage. Also you can't really use Felix' single ending as a mark against Crimson flower, seeing as that's also his ending in all his non blue lions endings.

Those quotes aren't actually addressing Byleth's actions beyond said characters being pissed at Byleth. 

The demonic beasts are never mentioned. The fact that you are aiding in conquest and genocide isn't talked about, just the fact that you are on the opposing side. And some of those characters that are pissed at Byleth and questioning them ALSO *conviently* forget those grievances once they're recruited. Suddenly everybody's all for blindly following byleth in their aiding the conquest of fodlann and the potential genocide of the last few nabateans.

So what, is edelgard "im going to assassinate my classmates and immediately get murdered by bandits in that attempt and nemesis did nothing wrong!" Adrestia suddenly master manipulator? Are all the characters just so blindly loyal to byleth that they're willing to ignore their morals? a

You broke down exactly why, no matter how you look at it, villain route or not, CF falls flat! Because inconsistent writing dictates that 3H can't go all the way with making CF/Edelgard too bad! The full scope of Edelgard's actions never being addressed, even off of CF (the Demonic Beasts are never called out, but the use of them is very clearly villainous given what they are, to use one of your examples)! This is why I have issues with CF - not because oh shit you're the bad guy, but in this regard they don't go far enough! This is exactly why my feelings are mixed towards CF, because of these exact flaws within it.

But even with that, there are still some things of what you said I don't quite agree with?

Like, Edelgard's and Hubert's endings apparently don't point to CF being a villain route, but Alois and Mercedes' do point it to not being one? Why are the latter's endings being given more weight than the former's?

"Those quotes aren't actually addressing Byleth's actions beyond said characters being pissed at Byleth."

...Um... yeah they are? Because they're pissed at Byleth for siding with Edelgard and the Empire? They're not just randomly mad at Byleth for no reason - the characters know what Edelgard and the Empire have done, they don't have to go down the laundry list when they express their anger at Byleth joining her/them. When Ignatz says “We can’t place the future of Fódlan in Edelgard’s hands. If you’re allied with the Empire, I have no choice but to fight you," him not specifically laying out every single crime Edelgard has done does not suddenly mean that those crimes aren't what he's referring to. Shamir saying “You still align yourself with the emperor? What a shame. Let’s make this quick. I don’t want the loser to suffer," doesn't mean that she's just peaved at Byleth for no reason. Ingrid’s quote, “You have chosen to assist the Empire, even while knowing of their deeds. I am truly disappointed in you, Professor. Prepare yourself, heel of the Empire! A wretch like you will never be qualified to rule over Fódlan!” very clearly lays it out that it is all that the Empire has done that is the reason why she’s mad at you and why she thinks you’d be a shitty ruler (and if Byleth is shitty for choosing to side with Edelgard, then that inherently means that Edelgard is also shitty).

Why are they mad at Byleth? Why are they criticizing you specifically joining the Empire? Why are none of them saying “Gee Byleth, it’s pretty ass of you to join Claude’s side, you heartless bitch” on VW? Or similar statement towards Byleth on AM and SS? Why is the Empire unique in being called evil, bloody, savage, etc.? It’s because the action of joining the Empire - joining Edelgard - is a bad one, one that throws away morals to chase the false image of “revolution” Edelgard posits. 

So what, is edelgard "im going to assassinate my classmates and immediately get murdered by bandits in that attempt and nemesis did nothing wrong!" Adrestia suddenly master manipulator? Are all the characters just so blindly loyal to byleth that they're willing to ignore their morals?

The answer? Yes. The same way that Byleth is blindingly loyal to Edelgard and throws away their canonical hatred of TWS to follow her, the other characters throw away themselves to blindingly follow Byleth. Byleth places their trust in Edelgard despite all of the horrible things she’s done, and their character becomes worse for it - the same thing happens to the cast that foolishly decide to continue placing their trust in Byleth despite siding with the villain Edelgard. They either stagnate in their character progression or outright regress, the exact same as Byleth, because CF as a route is all about regression. That’s Edelgard’s whole motivation. It’s not moving forward to a new future, it’s going back to how Fodlan used to be - back under complete Imperial control, with a Hresvelg as the one ruler of Fodlan. 

And Edelgard having one shitty plan and being wrong about history doesn’t mean she doesn’t know how to make others look worse than her, how to prop herself up as the hero of the story - we see this from Ladislava, someone who is genuinely completely loyal to Edelgard specifically, that characters genuinely fall for Edelgard’s words. We see this in how she makes Dimitri and Rhea and Claude into these targets that must be destroyed “for the good of Fodlan,” that she can easily shove any and all responsibility for her actions onto her victims. We see this in how she’s just “taking back humanity’s freedom” when she slaughters a heartbroken and maddened Rhea - maddened due to her actions - only to shove humanity under her actually tyrannical rule. Hell, her being ignorant of history again falls back into how CF is partly about ignorance - you’re always ignorant to the depths of your horrific actions due to blind loyalty, so being wrong about history and never being corrected is par for the course.

Where CF falls short is the following: 

the aforementioned endings that always remain the same even on CF, 

where certain characters aren’t given enough attention despite being on CF (Ingrid definitely needed a Felix treatment for specifically this route, since she’s going after the Kingdom directly, for example), 

where even with the idea of the BE getting influenced by the regression of CF they still way too easily side with Edelgard (Ferdinand is by far the worse victim of this), 

where the end result of Fodlan is unification no matter what route you do (more the game overall that suffers from this tbh), 

where the characters don’t mention the depths of Edelgard’s actions off of CF (which is partly why the BE staying with Edelgard on CF comes across poorly, because they never really delve into her actions so them not doing so on CF doesn’t come across very well) - VW is the worst offender of this, as while it makes some sense to have Edelgard be a sympathetic villain on the other routes, doing the same here makes literally no sense (you only know her as a warmonger trying to murder you).

I know this isn’t like, the most popular opinion, but I don’t find it to be an intrinsically bad idea to have the player initially think that they’re not playing a villain route until they go back over the numerous, frankly loud undertones of villainy and evil you help participate in and realize “oh shit wait a minute.” Dragging down characters with you on your path of ignorance and regression? Sounds cool! Playing the other routes and seeing what you essentially look like to all of the people you fight on CF - a heartless conqueror stamping down on all opposition - as you play from the infinitely more heroic POV of the other two lords (+ Byleth’s independent POV) and see Edelgard in the light of a villain (that light the non-recruited/non-CF characters see you in)? Neat! Realizing that you’ve helped a lying, racist, imperialistic warmonger get exactly what she wants as she drags down Fodlan in darkness and tyranny? Interesting! The water is just muddied by poor writing decisions/oversights, but it is very much still (villainous) water. CF is flawed, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t what it is.

But I will ask you this nonnie, if you don’t mind! If you don’t think CF is a villain route, what is it to you? Genuinely curious! 

#ask #anon #exqueuese me princess #anti edelgard #Anti-edelgard #Edelgard discourse #Edelgard critical #just to be safe #like talking about this made me realize that the other characters being ass on CF might actually be like. intentional #I mean in the idea that they were on CF not just because uwu Edelgard but because it's meant to FURTHER showcase how bad an influence CF is #since Byleth becomes way worse on CF and CF is all about making shit ass it'd make sense for characters that naively place their faith #in Byleth like Byleth did in Edelgard to regress to hell in their character arcs #it's debatable whether some should have been playable on CF at all (INGRID INGRID INGRID) but even with that they're like. noticeably worse #though even then if they're gonna have said characters on CF they should've been VERY noticeably worse - down to endings and shit like that #and seeing the difference between how non-recruited students react to fighting Byleth on CF vs off it kinda opened my eyes that wow #bitches DO NOT like Byleth on CF lmao #Funny how Byleth gets more criticism for joining Edelgard than Edelgard does for actually doing the shit that's bad lmao #(by funny i mean maddening) #but yeah! sorry if I came across rude just imo CF is very much a villain route lol

[inkedtae]

Hiii!

I just want to be as respectful as possible because racism in Kpop is sometimes overlooked and it hurts my feelings to see it brushed aside as a black person. Obviously we all know bts has done racist things, and the problem isn't solo stanning bc PLS stan as many groups as you want 😭. It's just saying skz aren't racist is slightly offensive as although they haven't all done something, the black face incident was really horrible for a lot of black fans to witness. Now ofc I'm not saying don't stan them because that's COMPLETELY your choice and you can write as many fantastic fics as you want (all your fics are amazing!) But please don't downplay their wrongdoings.

I'm not trying to hate or anything because i love your page sm but I just wanted to shed some light on why some people may be upset with the situation. The way the previous anon phrased it wasn't right at all and I'm sorry you had to experience that so I'm trying to be as respectful as possible 😅. I'm sure they were white and uncultured like that other anon said 💀, but i felt n-word and blackface discussions don't extend to ALL kinds of POC as its only affects blk stans.

I hope you understand where I'm coming from and hope you know we all love you and your page 💓💓💓

Hi! Thank you for writing in, I hope you've been well!

I agree with everything you have very well written. You are right in every aspect of this and I would like to apologize for the way I handled and brushed everything off. Though it was not my intention, it is what I did and for that I am sorry.

I am adamant on speaking up about injustices, especially racial ones. I have never shied away from discussions of this nature nor do I plan to. It is very important to me that everyone who would like to interact with my page, whether sending asks, reading fics, or even looking at reblogs, feels safe and comfortable doing so. My claim that stray kids are not racist, is a personal opinion and one, in this context of harm/damage to the black community, I do not believe I have the right to have. I want to apologize for sharing it in an ignorant way as well.

What particularly irked me about that previous ask was the sheer entitlement and arrogance behind both their wording and tone. It seemed to pin racial offenses solely on stray kids, who are not at all innocent and also not the only kpop group to do highly racist/offensive things, and shame me for not only writing about them, but liking them as well. Their use of "disappointed" struck a chord with me because it placed me at fault, not them for setting unwanted and unrequested expectations on me. This is in no way an excuse for how I poorly handled the situation. I am just explaining my thought process at the time.

I will educate myself more about the racist history of groups before forming a personal opinion and will not dismiss matters I have no real right to or experience with.

I sincerely apologize for dismissing the conversation, offending and causing further harm.

Thank you again for this and I hope you have a wonderful day/night! 💕

#the masked #letters

[sickly-sweet-imagines]

Sorry if this breaks rules or offends you, but I've seen this a lot and thought a comfort fic would be nice.

Tw biphobia

I was wondering if you could make a fic/HC post(whichever works), with one for male and female respectively, where the reader is bisexual and in a relationship with Edelgard and Hubert respectively and are told by both people in the LGBT+ community and out of it that they aren't "really LGBT+" because the relationship is straight, and the character comforts the reader because they're crying from the harrassment.

Sorry if this isn't allowed or is poorly written, I've just seen a lot of it and as a bi man myself it's kinda heartbreaking and I'm to afraid to write my own fic.

Regardless have a nice day.

It doesn’t break the rules or offend me at all, I’d be happy to write it! I’m sorry you’ve experienced so much biphobia, it’s upsettingly prevalent and I hope this can provide some comfort to that. TW: Mentions of biphobia under the cut

– – – – –

Edelgard von Hresvelg w/ Male S/o

You’ve always heard comments about how you should just pick a side

Which... You and those close to you know isn’t how it works

But there will always be people who make a point of acting like it is, like your sexuality is a choice and you’re somehow lying to the community for being bi

It’s not exactly enjoyable

Oftentimes you’ll just try and ignore it, let the comments roll of your back- your personal community supports you, that’s enough to keep you content

But sometimes people just become so... Venomous

People will try to claim the most horrible things about you, assuming the worst of intentions when you’re just trying to engage in your community and be honest about who you are

It can get unbearable sometimes

Edelgard had always been a bit rough towards people who made passing comments about it- she’s never been one to let injustice slide

But goddess, seeing you broken down on your floor after an especially rude group of passerby threw some words your way made her blood boil

She couldn’t tolerate it

None of the things they were saying about you were true, you were still bi and you were still just as attracted to other men as you were before you started dating a woman

It was... Infuriating to say the least

But she could handle those dastards later, a far more important priority on her mind was you

She looks at you, seeing how shrunken in and hurt you are, and her heart squeezes in her chest

She hates seeing you hurting

Edelgard crouches down beside you, a hand resting gently on your back

Her skills with verbal comfort aren’t particularly honed, but she doesn’t need to speak to provide you her support

You can feel in the way she holds you, pulling you close, the barely controlled anger

You can also feel the gentleness and love that’s keeping it controlled as she rubs your back

She struggles to find the right words to say, so she instead opts for a simple “I love you”

Your throat is too tight to reply, but she can tell you said it back

The two of you stayed like that for the remainder of the afternoon, long after your tears had stopped

It was nice, as simple as it was, to cuddle like that

It felt safe, it was comforting after such a difficult interaction

Of course, Edelgard found a way to take care of the people who’d made those comments

Hubert von Vestra w/ Fem S/o

Sometimes you really wished you could just convince yourself you were too sensitive

The things people said to you hurt so much so often

You just wished it was as easy to get over what they said as it seemed like it was for them to say it

You’ve been shoved out of your own communities over and over again for being “manipulative” just because you were bi

You couldn’t understand how being attracted to people was inherently manipulative, and those around you made it clear that it wasn’t to any reasonable person, but the way people talked to you still hurt so much

No matter how often you tried to ignore it, somehow comments would always get back to you about how negatively people viewed you because of your sexuality

It hurt to be rejected from the community you were supposed to be a part of

At least you had your small circle who knew better, like Hubert

Hubert... Was not one to tolerate the hateful comments thrown your way, more likely to try and silence those who hurl baseless insults and accusations, be it temporarily or permanently

He was, admittedly, a bit protective

But nothing he’d done to protect you before could match up to the white hot rage that filled his mind when he saw you crumpled up on your bed in tears

Oh, those monsters did not know what was coming to them

He, much like Edelgard, was not particularly comforting with his words

However the threats he made under his breath as he pulled you into his arms and cradled you against his chest gave the same effect that traditional comfort would

He held you gently, stroking your hair and rubbing circles into your hip

You could feel the slight shake to his hands and lips as he kissed your head

It was obvious how angry this had made him

“They will pay for this my dear, don’t worry.”

It wasn’t an ‘I love you’ in so many words, but it was his greatest expression of love and loyalty

He held you until you calmed down, releasing you from his arms when you seemed contented

He did not, however, leave your side for even a moment for the remainder of the day

He followed close behind you wherever you went, shooting his most terrifying gazes at those who seemed to be looking at you wrong

It was nice. Comforting- Hubert may not be one for long lasting physical affection, but his loyalty and protection were a stronger love language than any you’d encountered

The group who had hurt you in the first place were taken care of

He did not tell you the details, and you did not ask

#fire emblem #Fire Emblem Three Houses #Edelgard von Hresvelg #hubert von vestra #fire emblem imagines #fire emblem three houses imagine #edelgard imagine #hubert imagine #fire emblem x reader #fire emblem three houses x reader #edelgard x reader #hubert x reader #headcanons #Anon

[mediaevalmusereads]

The Alienist. By Caleb Carr. New York: Random House, 1994.

Rating: 4/5 stars

Genre: historical fiction, mystery, suspense

Part of a Series? Yes, The Kreizler Series #1

Summary:   The year is 1896. The city is New York. Newspaper reporter John Schuyler Moore is summoned by his friend Dr. Laszlo Kreizler—a psychologist, or “alienist”—to view the horribly mutilated body of an adolescent boy abandoned on the unfinished Williamsburg Bridge. From there the two embark on a revolutionary effort in criminology: creating a psychological profile of the perpetrator based on the details of his crimes. Their dangerous quest takes them into the tortured past and twisted mind of a murderer who will kill again before their hunt is over.

***Full review under the cut.***

Content Warnings: ableism, homophobia/transphobia, racism (including slurs), sexism, rape, abuse, child abuse and sexual assault, child prostitution, animal cruelty, blood, gore, violence

Overview: This book has been on my TBR list for a while, so I figured I’d finally get around to reading it. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but I was actually surprised by how much I enjoyed the reading experience. Carr writes in a way that pretty closely imitates 19th century detective fiction, and while such a style might not be for everyone, I thought it went a long way in creating atmosphere. My criticisms have mostly to do with pace and the creative decisions that probably didn’t have to be made (such as depictions of child sexual assault, use of slurs, etc), but even with those faults, I have to give Carr’s craft and research a lot of credit, so this book gets 4 stars from me.

Writing: As I mentioned above, this book mimics detective fiction of the 19th century. If you’ve read any of Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes stories, you might get the idea: first person, characters displaying almost whimsical behavior, stuffed with contextual details that may or may not be relevant. At first, I thought the reading experience was going to be a slog, but once I realized what Carr was trying to do, I readjusted my expectations and found the prose to be quite engaging. If you like 19th century literature, you might appreciate what Carr does, but if you find older lit to be a challenge, this book might not be the thriller you’re hoping for.

That being said, I do think there were some areas where Carr could have picked up the pace or even cut some of the contextual details. It’s obvious that Carr did a lot of research before writing this book, and it’s understandable that he would want to show off some of that research, but there were times where I felt like it was a little much.

I also think there are a lot of things in this book that will offend modern sensibilities. I recall at least one use of the N-word (which is spoken by a racist minor character) as well as remarks that make it clear that characters think same-sex intimacy is “deviant” or abhorrent. I can understand why Carr put them in his book; if we’re trying to evoke an atmosphere and make the story feel like it’s set in the 19th century, it’s not realistic to expect everyone to be accepting of gay sex or treat POC with respect. But also, I think it’s on Carr to bear the responsibility of creating plot points and characters that have those attitudes in the first place. The character who uses the N-word could have easily not done so, and characters could have been more clear that their revulsion was at child prostitution rather than same-sex relationships.

Still, I was able to follow the plot with no problem and the sentences flowed in a way that made the reading experience feel quick (no 10-line sentences, thank god). So while there may be some things I would have liked to see adjusted to fit my own tastes, I think Carr did a wonderful job of making me feel like I was reading an older work.

Plot: The plot of this book follows a group of investigators as they try to use psychology to catch a serial killer. As far as being an “original” or unique thriller, this book doesn’t necessarily deliver a plot we haven’t seen before; but what made it so interesting (at least to me) was that it was less interested in the thrill of catching the killer and more interested in thinking through the “whys.” Why did the killer do X? Why did he do Y and Z when he could have done A or B? In this sense, the suspense doesn’t come from the action or the “chase,” but from the building of ideas and a foggy picture becoming more and more clear.

If I can fault Carr for anything, it’s that I think he crafted his mystery around some subjects that are... touchy (for lack of a better word). Most of the murder victims are children - specifically child prostitutes - and a lot of the killer’s motivations are rooted in some combination of racism and exposure to abuse. If you’re looking for a book which handles these issues with sensitivity, I think you’ll be disappointed. But I have to give Carr some credit for not overly sensationalizing these things; for example, while he did include characters who were racist towards Native Americans, he also included characters who were sympathetic and who insisted on not judging tribes for their defensive violence. Not everything is perfect, and there were some moments that made me uncomfortable, but I felt like Carr painted a complex picture of 19th century America, so I was able to keep going.

Characters: The plot of this book is told from the perspective of John Schuyler Moore - a newspaper reporter who teams up with his friend, eminent psychologist Dr. Laszlo Kreizler, to catch a serial killer. As a protagonist, Moore isn’t overly compelling - he’s more like a neutral, blank slate that the reader can project themselves onto. He serves much of the same function as Watson in the Sherlock Holmes stories: to be a witness to other characters’ brilliance while occasionally making some helpful insights. Still, I didn’t outright hate Moore - he was kind and loyal, and I admired how he went out of his way to try to help people.

Kreizler, the psychologist (or “alienist” as they were called in those days), is somewhat of a Sherlockian character in that he’s eccentric, confident, and had abilities that stun the people around him. For the most part, Kreizler was fun to follow. I think the only times I got truly frustrated with him were when he would allude to some knowledge and then leave Moore in the dark - like “aha! This thing is obvious!” “What thing?” “No time to explain! I’ll tell you at dinner!” Those moments were a little irritating.

Sarah, the most prominent female character, was more complex than I expected her to be. She has clear career aspirations and doesn’t let anyone hold her back, and I liked that she was presented as this kick-ass woman who still felt human. She struggles when faced with the horrors of the murder, but she doesn’t let the horror put her off of her task. She’s confident and never seems to have a moment of self-doubt (which is refreshing). She notices interpersonal things without being boxed in as “the woman who notices emotions.” Granted, Sarah does serve some token function - she’s brought on in order to provide a “female perspective,” which was a little frustrating, but she held her own so well that my annoyance melted away.

Marcus and Lucius, the two brothers who work for the police department, are also quite charming characters. I loved how they brought technical expertise to the group by being knowledgeable about anatomy, fingerprints, photography, and the like, and I especially enjoyed the way they bickered with one another. Their presence immediately made scenes feel lighter, and they brought something of a family aspect to the whole band.

Supporting characters were well-crafted in that no two felt quite the same. Teddy Roosevelt (yes, that one) was cheerful and warm while still demanding absolute cooperation and loyalty from his men. Cyrus and Stevie - two of Kreizler’s employees - were charming, though I wish Cyrus had gotten to do more than just kind of silently stand by awaiting orders. Mary - Kreizler’s maid - was a lovely character, and I appreciated the positive disability representation we got with her, though I do not like how her character arc ended and how it related to the main plot. The crime bosses were intimidating without feeling too much like stock characters, the thugs did their job. I don’t think there was a character that was poorly written, just characters who served purposes that may or may not have been needed.

As for the murderer... we don’t get to see him very much, but I felt like I got to know him because so much of the book was focused on mapping out his life and psychology. It worked much better than books where the antagonist is looming off to the side, acting as a vaguely threatening force but not really a character, and one that doesn’t even show up until the last quarter of the book. When the killer finally does appear on page, I felt like he had been involved in the story, even without being physically present, so I was able to accept him as an active force on the narrative, not just a surprise twist at the end.

TL;DR: The Alienist is a well-crafted mystery that uses atmosphere and psychology to create an engaging mystery. While some readers may struggle with the period-like prose or the more disturbing aspects of the story, Carr creates a compelling narrative by focusing on understanding and knowledge over spectacle and action, and by using well-developed characters.

[hello-im-not-a-possum]

Hell's Studio fic idea: A pipe bursts and Sammy becomes a toon Imp like Snowflake and Bendy, and Joey doesn't know how to reverse it ASAP, so Sammy is stuck as a toon Imp and Sammy decides to hangout with Snowflake until Joey can reverse the ink's magic (Bonus points if: Sammy gets a uncontrollable stutter as a toon Imp, Susie cooing her small boyfriend, and Sammy drawing with snowflake)

I am So sorry that this took so freaking long, but here you go!

Wally slapped his forehead in exasperation as he heard the pipe bursting from the music department's break room. Then proceeded to go in there, with Snowflake following close behind just in case he needed someone small to check in any holes in the wall that the pipe made in the process.

The sight was familiar, but unwelcome to the pair; a pile of thick ink sliding down onto the floor through the broken pipe peeking through the ceiling. Snowflake was only thankful that it had spilled to the floor instead of the pool table.

“I’m startin' ta think dat eitheah we should completely tear down da music department to put in a betteah pipe system, or just stop fixin' the dang things so dat they at least stop surprisin' us."

The Janitor grumbled as he started mopping up the mess.

"A-at least nobody got caught in it this time."

As soon as Snowflake said that, something under the pile began to move.

“Mmmmh?"

"Yikes, spoke too soon, kiddo."

Wally stated calmly as he started to scrape the excess ink off of what looked exactly like Bendy, except the imp's tie lacked the fun patterns Bendy often wore, and more importantly, he was missing his mouth. So the obvious conclusion the pair made was: The ink ruined his tie by dying it black and also stole his mouth.

"M-mr. Bendy?! are you okay?!"

The formerly buried imp looked at the other one with a perplexed expression before mouthing something, realized that he wasn't saying anything, patting his face where his mouth should've been, and looking like he was about to panic.

"MMMMmmPPHH?! MMMH!! MMPHH!!!"

"Looks like the ink erased your pie hole, boss."

The imp rolled his eyes at stared at Wally in a very sarcastic manner before leaving the room, most likely to visit Joey about this issue.

"...Do you think he's not going to want to do that drawing lesson later?"

"What, Bendy? not want ta draw with ya overah somethin' like this? Nah. It's nothin' fun to wake up to, but I don't think it'll eat at him like it will if it happened ta Sammy."

----------------------

"MmMMmMMM?!?! MMPHH!! MMMPPHHH!?"

Sammy hopped up and down while wildly gesturing to the blank white space on his face where his mouth was supposed to be while Joey flipped through heavily ink-stained spell books. Meanwhile, the real Bendy was still gawking at his doppelganger, still not quite sure whether he should feel flattered or offended that the ink pulled this on Sammy. But also not saying anything because he couldn't find any jokes to lighten the mood with.

It would be one thing if the ink also gave Sammy Bendy's trademark smile (that could make other expressions too). If it did that, Bendy would be making so many mirror and twin related jokes. But it didn't.

"It's going to be fine." Joey repeated almost more to himself than to the hopping mad imp. "Just because an ink flood took out some of my reversal spells, doesn't mean that you're going to be stuck like this forever. Best case scenario, it'll take a few hours for me to find the right one, worst case scenario I'm going to need to order a new book, and that might take a while."

"MMm MmhP?"

"I don't know how long! Some of these are the rarest on the market! Goodness knows how long it'll take to replace if it's ruined and has the correct cure in it..."

The music director let out a heavily muffled, frustrated sigh.

"Yes, I'm annoyed too." Joey sighed as well. "But at least it's not going to be forever."

'Easy for you to say.' Sammy thought to himself as trying and failing to talk was starting to hurt his jaw. 'You're not the one dealing with this! how am I supposed to do my job when I can't speak to anyone?!'

He must've been gesturing as he thought this as Joey snapped his fingers in realization and handed Sammy a notebook and a pencil.

"I know it won't help with the more vocal aspects of your job, but it's better than not having any way to communicate. And much easier than trying to learn sign language in less than a day and with only four digits on each hand."

He tried to write down 'Thanks Joey' but his hands refused to obey him. Confusingly, he instead drew a thumbs up.

"Why thank you! Glad to see that you're taking this better than expected Sammy. I'd better get to work on looking for that spell..."

As Joey left the room, Sammy frowned at the notebook, trying to figure out why he did that. Bendy also peeked at the drawing and felt something click.

"So..." the copied imp awkwardly tugged at his tie as he avoided making eye contact with Sammy. "Just outta curiosity sake, does Snowflake know about this? At least, the fact that it's well, you instead of me?"

Sammy gave Bendy a funny look but nodded anyway.

"Okay, follow up question: ...Is now a bad time to tell you that before you burst in here trying to tell us to fix this that Joey and I were arguing over whether I should go to this meeting with GENT or to give drawing lessons to Snowflake like I promised to, and literally right before you came in I said: 'Well dang it Joey if I could be in two places at once, I would!'?"

Sammy frowned as he saw the guilty yet pleading look in Bendy's eyes, calmly took the newspaper off of Joey's desk, rolled it up and smacked Bendy right upside the head.

"Hey! What gives?!" He sputtered as he rubbed the back of his head.

The Mute music director drew a series of pictures: Bendy putting something in the ink, the ink rising up and flashing him the 'ok' hand sign, Bendy giving it a thumbs up in return and leaving on his merry way, a shift in perspective revealing Sammy as a human having seen the interaction but shrugging it off, Sammy (still human) playing pool with Jack, Grant, and Johnny, the four of them having a good time, the ceiling above them creaking and rumbling ominously, making the four opt to leave, Sammy coming back into the pool room slightly later and keeping an eye on the ceiling, Sammy taking what he came back into the room for, the ceiling above him suddenly bursting and covering him with ink, and the last picture; a bunch of puzzle pieces being fit together, with the picture on the pieces being a lit light bulb.

After showing Bendy his work, he crossed his arms and tapped his foot on the ground.

"What?! You can't seriously blame me for- Okay, yes. I did kinda make a request... but I figured I'D be the one getting drenched! Not you!"

Sammy raised a single eyebrow as Bendy let out a frustrated sigh.

"Look, if I knew that this was what would happen, I wouldn't have done it! But now that it's happened ...would ya help me out with this?"

Sammy's next drawing was his current form with an intentionally bad scribble of Bendy's mouth on the space where he was supposed to have a mouth to indicate it was (poorly) drawn on, and he was trying and failing to do Bendy's job for him as he couldn't speak.

"Of course I'm not going to shirk my responsibilities to make you pretending to be me look like an idiot in front of those big wigs at GENT. I mean, goodness, if this thing flops, who knows what'll happen."

The Musician then showed Bendy a drawing that was so horrible and cold that he wouldn't even dare grace it with a description.

"WHAT KINDA DEMON DO YOU THINK I AM, LAWRENCE?!" Bendy quieted down and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I get it, Damned if I do the thing, damned if I don't do the other thing. I can't let down Snowflake, but if I'm not at that meeting, the studio's relationship with GENT could get bruised! This is why I tried this stunt in the first place!"

He sighed as Sammy just continued to tap his foot in annoyance. "Tell you what, help me and I'll give you anything you ask for! A raise, me not pranking you for a month, more paid vacation days, magic-repelling acetone, name it and it's yours!*"

*Within reason. I'm a demon not a miracle worker!

Sammy showed Bendy an intentionally shaky 'Ok' sign, the closest thing he could think of to a picture version of a hesitant and unwilling 'fine, I'll do it...'

"Oh Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" Bendy practically crushed his doppelganger in a spine-breaking hug. "I really owe you this one Sammy!"

'I hope you realize how goddamned lucky you are that I like that kid.' Sammy thought to himself as he patted his double on the back. 'Otherwise I'd hang you out to dry for doing this...'

------------------------

The music director had no interest in deceiving Snowflake; even if he wanted to follow Bendy's plan to the spirit of his deal, he knew too well that the studio and it's ink would always drag any secret up to the surface. So it would just be easier to come clean at the start before lies had the chance to spiral into something that could completely break the poor kid.

"Hi Mr. Bendy! Are you ready for our lesson?"

Sammy nodded, but gestured for his pupil to wait a second before he flipped through the pages of his sketchbook and showed him a series of pictures: some showing the origin of his new condition, and the others showing his deal with Bendy.

"Oh." The child imp seemed sad, and slightly disappointed, but also not surprised. "So Bendy couldn't make it today either..."

The older imp sympathetically patted Snowflake on the back and tried his best to draw out an explanation, but it's kind of hard to put 'He really did want to make it, in fact, he wanted to so much that he was willing to split himself in half for it! But as you can see, it kinda backfired...' into picture format, luckily he got the message across fairly well.

"I-it's okay, I understand. Thanks for filling in for him Mr. Lawrence!"

Snowflake pulled out his own notebook and pencils.

"Do you think you can show me how to do hands that well?"

Sammy eagerly nodded and flipped his book to a blank page.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #sammy lawrence #snowflake the demon #bendy the dancing demon #wally franks #joey drew #Hell's Studio AU #fanfic

[borealis-strange]

Chapter 5 “Maybe one day”

Link

Summary.

Franco and regina arrive at the pine tree of gold. They expect it to be a smooth ride until they meet a harlequin who will make things difficult for them.

Notes:

So... this was supposed to come out last week but something came up. I'm sorry about that.

Tag-list:  @freesiafields @bambirexwrites @whitequeen-ofwillowgreen @vaeya @sirenlovesqueen @moreofthatqueen @eileen-crys​

If someone wants to be added or removed from the tag-list just tell me :} 

The next morning we left the Poppy Garden early, the fairies gave us a warm goodbye, and a good breakfast, and told us that if we needed anything, we should not hesitate to return. I was grateful for the gesture, but I wouldn't go back here even if I was crazy.

When I was finally able to put my armor back on, it was glorious. I was finally protected again.

And we left for Gold Pine, fortunately, this time we got a friendly traveler who would take us there.

The trip was short, just as Franco had said, and without much to see.

Upon arriving in the city, the first thing I noticed was ... its peculiar architectural style, it was more modern, I would say. In addition to the wide stone streets, where carriages passed without rest.

Gold Pine was… quite different from what I expected, rather elegant. Besides that people dressed in great dresses and suits of high society; and the women wore jewelry.

It was strange, people looked at us occasionally, as if we were not worthy of their city. Franco told me to just ignore them.

We ended up in the town square, where there were people dressed more casually. There were several street stalls that sold all kinds of things, especially food and crafts. Franco and I went to see different things, he said something about wanting to see the watches.

I approached one of the stalls, they sold necklaces made of silver and semi-precious gems. Some even had pearls (I didn't know if they were real), they were all beautiful and if I had had more money, maybe I would have bought a ring.

I continued to look at the charms, hoping to find one that was not very expensive. After looking at them for a while I found one that I liked, it was like a half moon, it was made of silver with some opal inlays. It was beautiful.

I asked for the price and luckily it was only a gold coin. Without much thought, I decided to take it.

I paid and with a little difficulty I put it on. With a small mirror that the boy had, I saw how it looked, unfortunately, it was not too visible because of the armor, but I'm sure that when I wear a dress it would look beautiful. He couldn't wait to show it to Franco.

Franco continued to look at the pocket watches. I approached him when the laughter of a crowd diverted my attention.

In the distance, there was a large group of people in a circle near the kiosk. They laughed and sang together, they must be seeing something.

— Look Franco! — I exclaimed as I took him by the arm to get his attention  —They're doing a play —

We both got closer and made our way through the people so that we could see everything well.

In the center of the circle was a makeshift stage with a few wooden boxes, plus there was a piece of paper with a few poorly painted trees that served as scenery.

There was a boy, who seemed strangely familiar to me, dressed in a blue harlequin suit and on the other side was an albino enderman with a paper crown. The enderman looked quite upset.

The harlequin took a small guitar and began to sing a lively and joyous song.

"A voice orders me to do things

La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la

Medication is not enough

La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la "

The boy sang while he pirouetted around and the audience followed his song happily.

"I'm fatal, I'm changing, I'm scared

I wake up every night running around a field

And it is this smell that is not removed

How stable, how stable

And I even made a scarf with my hair "

I didn't pay attention to the rest of the song, I was trying to remember who the boy was, his voice had also heard it before. It wasn't… it had to be… Vandal!?

The same silly songs and the same energy from the boy. It was him.

— Are you alright? — Franco asked.

— It's just that ... the harlequin is the book thief — I said in a low voice — We have to do something -

— What do you want to do? Attack him in front of everyone? — I considered it for a second— Don't do it now, we don't want to attract unnecessary attention. At least, let him finish his play —

I returned my attention to Vandal's play. Apparently he was already done with his silly song.

— Oh no! —Vandal continued with the play — Our little Killer is in trouble. Who can help us?—Vandal said with exaggerated movements.

— It’s Killian, not Killer — Corrected the enderman annoyed.

— What's that? Vandal continued his story as if Killian hadn't said anything. — Isn't it the great sorcerer? — He said dramatically while pointing away.

The audience turned to see and sure enough, it was a pig in a purple wizard robe with stars and a matching pointy hat. The pig pushed his way through the audience until he reached the center of the stage.

— IT 'S ME! — Exclaimed the pig — Kaky! After my journey of reflection, I have realized how much I love you Killer — The enderman rolled his eyes in disgust — And now after increasing my power off the scene, I will save you from this horrible harlequin! —

— I will never let Prince Killer go! — You will have to pass over me! — Vandal yelled dramatically.

The boys pretended to fight, it was pretty bad, with wooden swords and magic effects made with colored cloth. Besides that they made the sounds of the attacks.

— You can never defeat me, Vandal! — Kaky exclaimed dramatically.

— Why? I am more powerful than you —

— You could be more powerful than me, but you don't have ... The power of love! —

The pig threw several pink ribbons at Vandal's chest and he pretended to be hurt by each of them.

— NOOOOOOOO! — Vandal yelled as he lay down on the ground feigning his death.

— Killer! — Kaky exclaimed with emotion — My love, we have finally met again —

The pig approached Killian but Killian pushed him away with one hand.

Vandal jumped up from the ground. And he began to bow while the pig accompanied him. The enderman stayed in his place looking even angrier than before.

— Thank you very much to all! This work I have been perfecting for years — Vandal thanked the audience making exaggerated bows. Rather it seemed that he had planned the play in one night — And voluntary donations are accepted —

Vandal took off his hat and put it on the ground. Some people just left and others came to leave coins inside the hat. Little by little they left the free space and the boys picked up their makeshift stage.

We got closer to them. Vandal was the first to see us.

— Hello Franco! — Vandal greeted animatedly — How have you been these last years? —

— Vandal, how long without seeing us — Franco greeted.

— You know each other? — I asked in a low voice.

— How not to know him? That bastard kept stealing my things a few years ago —

— You must admit that I made your life more interesting for a few years — Laughed Vandal.— And what did you think of the play? —

— It’s horrible — I replied with disgust — We come because I know you’re planning something bad —

— Me? — Vandal feigned innocence — Since our last meeting I have changed. Now I have a traveling theater, so I will not go back to that thief life —

— You don't even believe that — I said contemptuously.

— Yes of course! — The enderman touched his shoulder and gestured with one hand to go— I have to go.—

The three of them walked away, occasionally turning to see us.

— You should leave them Regina — Franco commented once they were out of sight — I don't think they really going to do bad —

— I don't know Franco ... There is something in me that tells me that his intentions are not good —

— And what will you do about it? — Franco asked, raising an eyebrow.

— Go after them — I answered quickly and before Franco could say something I ran down the street where the boys had gone.

I could practically feel Franco's disappointed look on the back of my neck. I ran down the street for a few seconds until, out of the corner of my eye, I could see that there were a few people in one of the alleys. I walked over to see if they were who I was looking for. As I sneaked past, I managed to visualize the albino enderman.

— Today we made a lot of money — I heard Vandal's voice

I approached carefully so that they would not see me, and I hid behind the wall. I had no sight of them but I managed to hear coins and other metal objects.

— I did not know that the people here had diamonds — Vandal was surprised.

— They are not, Vandal — Killian spoke — They are false, we cannot use them —

— How long until Rich lets us go back? — Kaky asked.

— One more day, I would say — Killian said with annoyance — You already know how exquisite that bastard is. You can't be a penny short, or else he starts screaming that his plan is ruined —

— Will I have to write another play? — Vandal asked.

— I don't see it necessary — Killian replied — You saw how they loved this work, they were so spellbound that they didn't even notice when we stole them —

I was right! I came out of my hiding place to face them.

— AHA! — I exclaimed while he pointed at them accusingly — I knew they had something on their hands —

The boys looked at me in some surprise, except for the enderman. They were sitting around a wooden box, which they had used as a table. They had hundreds if not thousands of silver and gold coins, plus a few necklaces and rings.

— Of course not! — Vandal said offended as he hit the "table" — All these are donations —

I watched as the pig and the enderman began to quickly put away their great loot.

— Give back what you have stolen — I demanded.

— Never! — Vandal yelled, raising a fist to the sky.

The enderman took the two boys in his huge hands and carried them slightly above the ground. And they just disappeared leaving little purple particles in the air and a few coins on the ground.

Demons. I left the alley and looked around. They couldn't stay very far from there; An enderman cannot teleport more than 20 meters and since he was carrying the two of them he must stay closer.

They were nowhere to be found, had they sneaked into a house? Or, they were very good at hiding.

After running for a minute, I saw Franco in the distance. I quickly approached him.

— Where did you go? — Franco asked before he could say something

— I was right! Vandal had stolen from a lot of people. They are close here, we have to look for them — I tried to run but Franco had taken my arm preventing me from continuing.—What? — Franco let me go.

— You must let them go — Franco said seriously.

— But… They are thieves! I can't ... just let them go. It’s ... wrong — What had bitten Franco? He had gone crazy!

— I know Regina, I know. But you're getting into where you shouldn't. If you keep getting where they don't call you, you'll get in trouble with a bigger fish — Franco said seriously — Look Regina, it hurts me to do something like that too but something in me tells me that they work for someone dangerous, with someone who you will not like to know —

As much as it hurt to admit it, Franco was right. I was not yet ready to face the three of them, and whoever they worked for.

Franco indicated that I followed him and I did. We walked through the stone streets of the city, apparently aimlessly. Franco hadn't said anything about today's plans, if he had planned anything.

— And what will we do today? Learn about swords and bows? Will you teach me to use the bow? Or will we fight a giant beast again? — I asked excitedly.

— We will learn history — Franco answered.

— History? — I asked disappointed

—History of the Empire. There is a museum that you will like a lot —

I snorted a bit annoyed. The least he wanted to do now was learn history.

Franco took me to who knows where, rather it seemed that he was more lost than ever.

The only good thing is that I was able to enjoy the view of the city. At least here I could stop for a few moments to appreciate it.

After several minutes, asking a few people, we finally arrived at the much appreciated Franco museum.

The museum was made of dark stone, which stood out against the sea of ​​white buildings, with large pillars at the entrance. We climbed the steps and entered.

The museum was completely empty, except for one person, which made it even more grand.

The museum was fascinating in a way, just as elegant as the rest of the city. There were some paintings of ancient knights fighting huge beasts to protect the Empire.

I thought it would be a more or less interesting visit, until Franco dragged me to the deepest part of the museum and therefore the most boring part.

He wanted me to see some of the ancient civilizations that created the Empire and the troubles that occurred during that time, probably the most boring thing in the entire history of the Empire.

Why wasn't he teaching me about the royal guard? Or about those great knights who spent their entire lives protecting the Empire. Or about the Netherite knight even. Anybody really. I didn't want to hear him talk about the beginnings of the Empire.

Franco went to each of the objects on display, and he told me the fantastic story of its importance and stuff. I don't know how much time could have passed, we probably only lasted half an hour in this room, although to me it seemed like an eternity.

Why did Franco keep talking? I already knew all this by heart, my uncle made me memorize the entire history of the empire to the letter. I already know that at the beginning only The Shelter existed and that they built the walls to protect themselves from the giants that attacked the city. I know that later the different tribes of magical creatures came together to seek the protection of the walls. And so the six regions of the Empire came together and built more walls. The rest are a lot of political problems that nobody cares about, a lot of weird people wanting to be in power and betrayals, plus a few problems with droughts.

— During the drought of ... — Franco continued — Are you listening to me? —

I quickly sat down properly on the bench.

— I'm sorry Franco, but this is all too boring — I said with annoyance — Besides, what's the use of knowing this by heart? I will be a knight, a woman of action, not a… historian. Besides that I have studied it thousands of times! —

—You must learn history because if you want to protect the empire you must understand it— Franco said seriously — You must understand why the walls have been created, why the empire is divided into six regions. Our ancestors fought to protect this region so that a young lady does not want to understand and forget everything that has happened before her —

-—Whatever — I said with disgust

Franco sighed heavily.

— Okay, I guess I should have another approach. — Franco sat next to me — Have I ever told you how to make Netherite armor? —

—But, you weren't only an obsidian knight? — I questioned.

—Yes ... but I was in the process of being one of Netherite. — Franco said with a certain mysticism. —I didn't finish the process because ... well, I started having health problems.—

Was it not the fall of Farfania? Or did he have to interrupt the process for that?

— Come. Accompany me — Franco told me as he got up with difficulty.

Franco guided me to what it was, the deepest part of the museum. There it was, hidden among other things, a Netherite armor.

— This is Netherite armor? — I asked puzzled — It is very beautiful —

The exhibit was about the ranks of the royal guard. There was armor to exemplify each rank: Iron, Gold, Diamond, Obsidian, and Netherite

The Netherite's armor was completely black but had a certain sheen that made it feel… magical. On the shoulder pads, it had a blue gem, and on the other one was orange. To be honest, it looked like quite heavy armor, and it was probably true, I had heard that those armor were practically indestructible and even withstood the high temperatures of fire.

— And what is the gem in the helmet? — I asked as he pointed at it.

— I don't know — Franco said with a small laugh — Many said it was to show off his rank —

I looked back at the armor. On the small poster that he had said that the gem had to be chosen by the knight as part of his initiation, that it was a representation of his skills.

— And how do you make it? — I asked for

— Let's say Netherite is one of the rarest minerals found in the Empire. It is obtained in the depths of The Shelter, from a mineral called Ancient Debris. As you might imagine, it is hard to get it, plus this quest one does just to prove that he is worthy of being a Netherite knight. The search can take up to months, and you cannot leave the caves until you get everything you need, so very few dared to achieve that rank. After obtaining all the necessary Ancient Debris, you have to melt it with gold to create the Netherite and thus create your own armor and sword — Franco explained with a certain mysticism.

I couldn't help but imagine myself in one of those armor. It would look great for sure! Maybe my eyes would look threatening under the helmet. And it would even be like a legend in that black armor. I hope they give the titles again.

— Do you think that one day I will have the skill to be one? — I asked excitedly.

Franco didn't answer, he just looked at me askance. I sighed heavily and returned my gaze to the armor.

— And what happened to them? — I asked in a small voice.

Franco looked at me as if he was already waiting for that question. He closed his eyes and breathed heavily.

— All Netherite knights were in the service of the King of Farfania. I knew each of them, we were not friends but we did get to work together. When… they died… it was pretty hard for me. When I found out, something in me told me that I could have saved them. I know it is a lie, but it was an idea that until now I have not been able to get out of my head — He said in a low voice.

It was obvious that it was not his fault, but I did not judge him. It must have been a strange and even sad feeling, that all those people that you knew, that you lived with for years, simply one day are gone. Those smiles, those songs and those stories were gone, you couldn't be with them anymore. In a way I understood it, that guilt of knowing that you could have done better, even knowing that it was not true.

Franco sat down heavily on one of the benches as if all the memories were too much for him. Franco ran his hand through his gray hair and then put it on his face, as if he was avoiding crying. I walked over to him and just wrapped him in a warm hug.

— It's not your fault, Franco. — I said in a low voice. Franco hugged me back.

Now I could feel that he was genuinely crying.

__________________

Franco regained his composure quite quickly, although he had a certain sadness on his face. He did not speak again on the subject and I did not ask any more questions.

To try to cheer Franco up a bit, I thought it was a good idea to go eat somewhere. We left the museum shortly after noon and headed for the city center.

We went to eat at a place that seemed cheap enough, and luckily we got it right. And best of all, the food did taste good. We didn't order anything very elaborate, just some meat patties.

We ate quietly while I tried to make Franco talk about his adventures, to distract him a bit from the bad memories. After a few minutes, it worked, Franco told me a little about his service on one of the walls of Illusia. He said they were the worst months of his time as a knight, as there was not much to do, just walk and walk looking for suspicious activity. Although, he met quite a few interesting people and for entertainment they used to throw stones to see who would throw it further.

When we were paying for food, I heard Vandal screaming in the distance.

— Come closer! Come closer! — Vandal shouted with great enthusiasm. He was on top of his makeshift stage — Come closer and admire this beautiful play! —

The people got closer little by little.

The boys had prepared again for their play, which made me wonder how many times a day did they do it? And more importantly, how long have they been scamming people?

I couldn't tolerate this anymore. I approached the front of the "stage", winning several protests from the people.

— They are stealing money from you! — I yelled at the audience — They are just distracting them with their silly play! —

People didn't do anything, they just looked at me disapprovingly.

I managed to hear that several said: "What a ridiculous girl" "She is surely crazy" "She should not be here"

A large lump formed in my throat. What had gone through my head? I should have thought this better, or at least a more convincing excuse. I stood there for a few seconds not knowing exactly what to do.

— Miss ... — Vandal touched my shoulder lightly — It would be so kind to stand aside. We are trying to start a play —

I returned to Franco's side looking at the ground. He could feel the gaze of the people glued to the back of his neck.

Franco looked at me compassionately.

—"We'd better go — Franco indicated, putting a hand on my back.

When we were walking away, I managed to see something out of the corner of my eye. I stopped for a second, to see better, and to confirm that I was not crazy.

It was a small, rat-like, insect-like creature with silver skin and black eyes. It moved with great speed among the people, rummaged in her pockets, and then went elsewhere.

It was a silverfish! Known for their great attraction to shiny things of great value. So that's how they were stealing a lot of money!

— Regina, do you want to stay? — Franco asked when he saw that he did not move me.

—Look — I said in a low voice as I pointed to the silverfish. — We have to catch it —

—And how do you plan to do that? —

True, we occupied a more or less decent plan. To start with, I needed something shiny. I rummaged in my pockets but I only had a few coins, that would not be enough. My necklace! It would work perfectly.

— With this — I said as I showed it to him with a smile.

Franco looked at me somewhat puzzled. He didn't need to say anything, I knew he didn't think it would work. Without waiting for him to tell me something, I went to complete my mission without him.

I rejoined the crowd, I decided to stay in the middle, lost among the people so that Vandal would not try anything.

I didn't pay attention to the play, my mind was on the ground.

Please make this work, otherwise the boys will get away with it again and I will lose the only nice thing I could buy myself.

I clutched my necklace tightly and continued to wait. After a few minutes, I saw the silverfish carefully approach. It raised his head slightly, as if it was trying to get a better look at the necklace. It came to my side and took the necklace with its invisible mouth. Before it could go away with my necklace, I quickly took it with my other hand. The silverfish squirmed in my hand trying to escape. I couldn't help but smile a little at my great ability.

I removed her necklace before pushing my way through the crowd to center stage. People looked at me in disgust and I rushed to speak.

— They've been stealing money from you with this. The play is just a distraction — I yelled and showed them the silverfish — Check your pockets and you will see that you have nothing —

People gasped and began to listen as they rummaged through their things to find their money or jewelry was stolen. From the expressions on their faces, I deduced that I was correct. A murmur could be heard all around.

I managed to see Vandal out of the corner of my eye, the boy was panicking like the pig, the enderman seemed not to care.

— That thing? — Vandal exclaimed nervously, taking a step forward — It's not even from us. It hasn't even stolen things and you can't confirm anything — He pointed an accusing finger at me. —

I shook the silverfish slightly, and a few gold coins fell to the ground. I shook it slightly again, and some necklaces and bracelets fell off. A woman approached the necklaces to confirm that it was hers.

Even more murmurs could be heard from the crowd. I decided to move away, I didn't want to upset people anymore.

Angry people approached the boys demanding that things be returned to them, cornering them. The enderman simply disappeared, leaving his companions behind.

— This ... this is a misunderstanding. The silverfish ... no ... it's not ours — Vandal stammered in an attempt to save himself — FENTON! - Vandal yelled with all his might. —

From a dark alley, the boy's giant spider sped off. The spider was running like crazy. People quickly parted to give him the step.

As soon as the spider was in front of the boys, they climbed onto it. They sped away.

The silverfish began to squirm even more in my hand until it finally broke free from my grasp. It went so fast that I didn't even have a chance to catch it again. Unfortunately, I couldn't get the other people's stuff back, but at least I had unmasked the boys. Although I doubt they would stop this, most likely they would go elsewhere to keep scamming people.

— Not bad Regina — Franco congratulated me while he patted me on the back.

— Seriously? Do you think I can one day be a Netherite knight? — I asked with some enthusiasm, although I think I knew the answer.

— There is still a long way to go, but ... maybe one day — Franco said with a smile. That caught me off guard but I didn't care.

I smiled hugely and jumped on Franco to hug him. Surprisingly, he hugged me back.

#queen fic #queen fanfiction #fem queen #between faith and the sword #my fic #roger taylor #magic au #fantasy au

[realkingjjofwonderland]

gimmie love | jung hoseok

pairing: jung hoseok x male reader

word count: 1281

description: (M/n) has become the star of the college volleyball team, but with it he ditances himself from all his relationships. Including his boyfriend Hoseok. On their two year anniversary, Hoseok decides to finally confront him on it.

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a/n: i could not figure out a title for this one all day so i decided to make it the main song i listened to while writing this. there’s a bit more cursing in this one than normal, but i hope you guys enjoy!

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When Hoseok met (M/n) at his college orientation, he knew he was going to fall hard. Even his friends Namjoon and Yoongi noticed it, both mentioning how Hoseok seemed to be infatuated with him. The two talked daily for about a month before (M/n) surprised Hoseok with flowers after one of Hoseok’s classes, asking him to be his boyfriend. Things were perfect.

Atleast, they were until (M/n) became the star of the Volleyball team.

(M/n) entered the college under a scholarship for Volleyball, so he had been on this course long before Hoseok entered his life, but Hoseok could understand that. Hoseok even supported him wholeheartedly, he and his friends going to every single match they could. But when the pressure of being the best fell on (M/n), Hoseok began to understand less and less as (M/n) began to skip out on dates and talk to Hoseok less often in favor of random practices.. Hoseok couldn’t even go to see him at his practices due to being deemed too much of a distraction. 

So to say he was frustrated when, on their two year anniversary, (M/n) once again had stood him up was a massive understatement. He had said just as much to Yoongi when he walked into his dorm. “I have tried to be understanding, Yoon, but this is just ridiculous!”

“Have you told him you’ve been feeling like this?” Yoongi questioned as he turned away from his computer. “I agree that he shouldn’t be treating you like this, especially on your anniversary, but maybe he just doesn’t realize what he’s doing?”

“I don’t even see him often enough to mention it.” Hoseok sighed, sitting down on Yoongi’s bed. “By the time we see each other again I just feel so happy to see him again that I don’t think about it…”

“Well, go tell him now then while you still feel those emotions.” Yoongi shrugged, turning back to his computer. “By now everyone else has gone home, so he’s gotta be there by himself practicing.”

“You know what, I will!” Hoseok huffed as he stood, grabbing his jacket as he headed for the door.

As Hoseok approached the gym he could hear the faint sound of shoes squeaking against the floor. As he reached for the door handle, he happened to peek through the window of the door and noticed that Yoongi was right. (M/n) was practicing by himself and looked absolutely exhausted. Hoseok’s hand gripped the door handle a bit tighter before he swung it open, (M/n) not even turning to see who had entered. “I swear I’ll be done soon, I just gotta get this spike down-”

“Are we going to do something then, or are you gonna leave me hanging again?” Hoseok huffed, letting the door shut on its own as he crossed his arms. (M/n) turned around then, a shocked expression clear on his face even from across the gym. “Did you even remember it’s our anniversary?”

“...Shit…” (M/n) sighed out, walking over to pick up the volleyball. “Hoseok I’m sorry-”

“Are you though?” Hoseok could feel a tightness beginning to form in his chest as he realized that (M/n) did forget about him. “Because even if it wasn’t our anniversary you wouldn’t have made time to come see me or even talk to me!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” (M/n) questioned as he set the ball down next to his bag, walking over to where Hoseok stood.

“It means I’m sick and tired of having a ghost for a boyfriend.” Hoseok uncrossed his arms to toss his hands up in the air a bit before letting them drop. “I barely can get a text from you most days. I don’t even feel like I actually have a boyfriend anymore!”

“Look, I’m sorry I haven’t been around much but coach-”

“I swear to God, (M/n), if you make up some bullshit excuse about the coach pressuring you I will walk out of this gym.” Hoseok could feel how tense he was getting, only feeling a little bit of regret when (M/n) flinched at his harshness.. “You could make time for me before, I don’t understand how things could change so quickly.”

“It’s not as simple as just making time, Seok.” (M/n) groaned out, running his fingers through his hair. “I have way more pressure on me now to be the best that I can, if I slip up for just one day then that could cost us a game.”

“I understand you’re under a lot of pressure, but for fucks sake (M/n) that doesn’t mean you should work yourself so hard that you end up throwing away your friends!”

“You do the same thing when you have a major dance competition coming up! None of us will see or hear from you for weeks, and then after the competition passes it’s all back to normal!” (M/n) was obviously trying to find a defense, but Hoseok could tell he knew better.

“Like you said. After the competition is done, it’s back to normal.” Hoseok’s voice was much quieter now as the anger faded, sadness taking its place. “But it’s been months, (M/n). You’ve been like this since the end of last season, and the next one isn’t even close to starting! Is winning that important to you that you have to run yourself into the ground months before the first match?!”

Both of them went silent after that, Hoseok breathing a bit heavily as he attempted to calm down. “You’re right…” (M/n)’s face had dropped as he whispered, turning his head away from Hoseok. “I guess I didn’t realize…” Hoseok could hear the watery tone to (M/n)’s voice, knowing he was close to tears. “I’m sorry, Hoseok.”

“Hey, look at me.” Hoseok took a few steps forward to gently cup (M/n)’s cheeks as he turned his head. “I know you want to be the best, but instead of striving for something you created in your own mind try to see what you actually are. You don’t need to work to be the best, because you’re already an amazing player. You have a group of friends who love you and care about you so much, and we already know you’re the best.” 

“I really don’t deserve you.” (M/n) sniffled, resting his head on Hoseok’s shoulder as he wrapped his arms around him.

“Don’t say such a silly thing like that,” Hoseok smiled softly, wrapping his arms around (M/n) as well. “We both have our faults, I should’ve brought this up sooner. I’m just glad you were willing to take it to heart.”

“I’m sorry for treating you and our friends so poorly, though… And for ruining our anniversary…” (M/n) rested his forehead on Hoseok’s shoulder, taking a deep breath as Hoseok pressed a gentle kiss to the side of his head.

“The day’s not over yet, we can still go do something. Get dinner, go to an arcade, then maybe end the night with some movies at my place?” Hoseok hummed out, his mood much lighter.

“Can I shower first?” (M/n) laughed softly, pulling away a bit. “I’m surprised you’re even this close to me, I probably smell horrible.”

“You’ve smelled worse.” Hoseok teased, laughing at (M/n)’s offended expression. “Yes, you can shower first.”

“You’re so cruel to me.” (M/n) laughed softly, pressing a kiss to Hoseok’s forehead before jogging to grab his bag and ball. 

“Yeah, but you love me.” Hoseok grinned, leaning against the wall as he watched him.

“Yeah, I really do.”

#jung hoseok #jung hoseok x reader #jung hoseok x male reader #jung hoseok imagine #bts #bts x reader #bts x male reader #bts imagine #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x male reader #kpop imagine #imagine #angst #fluffy end #request

[s-n-arly]

A Peek into the Indie Writer World – Part V: Presenting as a Professional

Also available on s-n-arly.com, should that prove a more viewer-friendly venue.

For the first article in this series, check out Part I. Or if you just missed the previous article, check out Part IV.

⁂

As an independently published writer, you are a professional and it’s in your interest (and in the interest of your fellow indie writers) that you present as a professional. We aren’t so far removed from the era where self-published authors were automatically dismissed as ‘not good enough for real publishing.’ While the majority of the population now recognizes indie authors as professionals, you’ll still encounter people who need to be convinced.

How do you get taken seriously? What can you do to ensure the image you’re broadcasting is professional?

The key places where your professionalism comes into play, in bullet format for those with very little time:

Website

Social Media

Email

Live Networking

Book Covers

Book Content

The more specific details regarding those key places to put your professionalism in place:

Website

A website is a must, even if it’s minimalist. Other than finding your books on sites like Amazon, this is one of the top places people will look to see how legit you are (or appear to be). This can include potential customers, the media, library purchasing departments, and schools or conferences looking for speakers.

Spring for the domain registry

Makes you easier to find

Implies greater dedication to your writing career

The cost is often bundled in with website hosting services (make sure you own the domain, so you can switch services and take it with you)

Go with a theme and colors that will speak to your audience

Hire someone to set things up if you don’t have the skills to do it yourself

Include or incorporate high quality photos

Your own if you have them

If using others’ photos, have the proper permission and credit as required

Use open source or free stock photography sources, crediting as required

Keep it current and engaging

Minimal is okay

About page – information about you the writer, genre, areas of expertise, and anything that will help your audience relate to you

Publications – your publishing history and/or where to purchase your work

Contact page – can be as simple as an email link or a web form

Consider a built-in blog for dynamic content

Announcements, appearances and news

Release information

Teasers

Social Media

Blogs and social media can help you build up and engage with your audience. Make sure you’ve picked a platform that hits your target readers. You don’t have to spend hours every week on a blog or forum if that’s not your thing, just keep it relevant and regular. A mostly dead Tumblr or Twitter won’t do you any favors.

Ensure that your interactions and posts are professional.

Avoid over-sharing or inappropriate assumptions of intimacy

The internet is forever; consider whether your posts could come back to haunt you

Approach controversial material in a way that is consistent with or related to your writing philosophy or your work

Eg: My blog includes real world social and political issues that are reflected in my stories and my approach to world building

Be careful not to alienate your audience with content that has no bearing on your work

Do not bully others (yes there are writers who do this) and engaging in flame wars will likely reflect poorly

If you mess up, damage control involves a real apology and future caution

Present yourself in the way you want your fans to see you

Be friendly and open to interactions if you want fans to find you approachable

Be a bit aloof or distant, if you’re aiming for more space

Be cautiously prickly if that’s who you are, but keep in mind that being an asshole will only chase fans away

Email

You should establish an email account specifically for your writing. This doesn’t have to run through your own domain if that doesn’t fit your budget. Select your email address carefully.

Easy to share and remember

Matches your author name or what you write

Doesn’t feel too casual unrelated to your writing work

Live Networking

Take advantage of the opportunities to network with readers and other writers in person. This can result in a valuable peer group, name recognition, and readership. While participating in these activities, you don’t need to wear a suit and schmooze like venture capitalist to present as a professional. Look up photos of these events and see what people tend to wear, and find something in your wardrobe that works and is comfortable for you.

Conventions – most genres have events where fans and creators get together

Volunteer and participate in programming you have an interest or expertise in

Attend the parties and meet people

Conferences – many genres have events for creators to discuss topics of interest and build their craft

Attend meet-ups or lunches

Readings – these can be held in bookstores, libraries, and at events like conventions and conferences

Prepare and practice your piece

You are in the limelight, be sure to shine

At any of these events, socialize with people you don’t know, even if that’s hard for you. You don’t need to meet everyone and you don’t have to try to impress people with exaggerations or lies. Just be yourself, unapologetically, and try to have interesting conversations. Listen at least as much as you talk, if not more. Swap contact information with people you may want to keep in touch with, and do follow up with them on social media.

Book Covers

Your book cover functions as your advertisement of the work; it sells the book. This is one of the places where a lot of indie authors make mistakes that result in an amateurish and unprofessional appearance. You can search online for “bad book covers” to get hundreds of examples of covers that have done more harm than good, and yes, some of them have been produced by big publishers.

If you don’t have the skills to design your covers, it’s in your interest to pay someone to do this. If you do have the skills to create your own covers, it’s still a good idea to run your drafts by a group of trusted individuals to identify any horrible mishaps you may have missed.

Book Content

The final piece of presenting yourself as a professional, is ensuring that your printed work meets the standards in the industry. This includes ensuring that you’ve told the best story you can, and that it is as free of spelling and grammatical errors as possible. It can be very helpful to get constructive feedback from fellow writers or beta readers, in case you’ve missed something. If editing isn’t your strong suit, paying a copy editor is not a bad idea.

In addition to the story itself, you also need to ensure your story looks good on the page, whether it’s digital or print. Pay attention to layout guidelines as these can influence whether the book looks professionally produced.

Margins – top, bottom and outside edges

Gutter – inside edges near the fold

Story title and author name in headings, often alternating

Page number in the footer

Printed work also needs properly set up front matter.

Title page, on a right page

Copyright page, on a left page, usually the other side of the title page

Acknowledgments, on a right page

A blank left page, unless your acknowledgments run two pages (which should be avoided in fiction)

Table of contents (TOC), on a right page

First page of the story, on a right page (there may be a blank left page between the TOC and the story’s first page)

Front matter can determine whether your book meets requirements for wide distribution.

Most of your steps for presenting as a professional don’t have anything to do with your actual writing, and it may be easiest to think of it as the marketing side of the indie writer’s job. It’s often easier to start out with your level of caution and professionalism set a bit higher than you think you need, as it’s unlikely to offend anyone. As you get more comfortable with the various venues, you can assess and adjust if your default is too far in one direction or another.

⁂

Proceed to Part VI.

For more articles on writing, check out my Reflections From the Sol section.

#reflections from the sol #indie author #indie world #Professional #Indie Writer Series

[petitprincess1]

How To Torture Your Heroes

Summary: Demencia and Clem teach the gross cockroaches of the world how to properly obtain and torture your enemy better than some nerdboy could!

Words: 2,454

Characters: Demencia, Flug, Clemencia, and Black Hat (briefly)

Warnings: A bit of torture, but nothing too bad.

I had too much fun with this

Demencia sat at the metallic table with her arms crossed and glaring at the shaking Cam-Bot and Flug, who was clearly smirking underneath his bag. She just narrowed her eyes at him, while, at the same time, erratic noises and lights that were going on beside her. She then slowly glanced over to her side at seeing Clemencia strapped up in a chair, wrapped in a straitjacket, and her mouth covered by a mask. The unicorn witch was currently vibrating in the chair, hearts in her eyes changing various of colors, and her powers were sparking from her horn. She was also making many high-pitched squeaking sounds and they only became louder the moment Dem’s eyes were on her.

Demencia’s stare went back to Flug, who was setting up Cam-Bot and ordering, “Alright, remember that Black Hat wants you to do this. Honestly, I wouldn’t care and the only commercials I would have you do is one for rabies vaccinations or one where we send you off to space.”

Flug was expecting Demencia to make a “witty” comeback like her becoming queen of the moon-people or something that idiotically implausible, but she just kept glaring at him. He just rolled his eyes and then looked as Cam-Bot’s recording light come on, saying, while holding up cards for her to speak off of, “Okay, Cam-Bot is recording. Go, Demencia.”

Demencia narrowed her eyes further at him before speaking in an even, annoyed tone, “Welcome, you bottom feeders, are you sick and tired of using the same old methods to capture and torture heroes? Do they always get away from your clutches? Always stealing your shit-” “Demencia, stick to the cards.” “Ugh! Always stealing your equipment,” she mocked in an obnoxiously nerdy voice by plugging her nose and then continued, “and leaving a mess everywhere? Then, fear not, for- this is so fucking stupid! Couldn’t you at least have tried to make the script sound like me, instead of your disgusting, lameass nerd language!?”

Flug pinched at where the bridge of his nose would be and then spoke in a professional manner, “You know, I really did try to, Demencia. However, you must understand that it is quite difficult to translate caveman speak to our natural, everyday colloquialism.”

Dem slammed her hands down on the table and shouted at him, “Say that to my face, punching bag!”

“You’re literally a few feet in front of me! How is this not saying it to your fa-” “Because it isn’t, chicken shit! If you were brave enough, you would say it right here, instead of-” The two began bickering over one another. Flug giving out the most intellectual disses the world has ever known, while Demencia resorted to “colorful” language, gory descriptions of Flug’s demise, and the occasional, never defeated “bleh bleh bleh” method. 

Meanwhile, Clem watched the two fight amongst one another like a child watching their parents argue. She casually shimmied out of her straitjacket, unbuckled the straps, and took off the mask. Skipping over to Flug, she looked down at the cards in his hands and asked, “Can I see those?”

“Yeah, sure,” Flug said absentmindedly, as he just went back to quarreling with Demencia like the goof that he is. Clemencia just went back to her seat and sat down, reading over the cue cards. Cam-Bot turned off its recording for a few seconds to look in-between the two villains and shook its ‘head’, wondering how it hasn’t short-circuited from all this madness. The only thing that was able to break them out of their squabble was Clemencia shouting, “Whaaaaaat!? Dangle them over hydrochloric acid? Painful injections? Lead them to you with what they love? What is this absolute crap? I thought you were supposed to be the best in the business, Flug!”

Flug immediately put a hand to his chest, feeling absolutely offended, while Demencia snatched at the cards and started reading them over. The scientist shouted, “Okay, listen here you randomly generated Tumblr OC, I don’t need someone like you telling me that-”

“I'm gonna stop you right there because you clearly do! None of this would truly work! It's, dare I say, old hat! I mean, who dangles people over acid anymore?” Clemencia asked, while Demencia finished reading and winced, “As much as I hate to agree with sparkles over here, I think she's got a point.”

Flug crossed his arms, scoffing and sputtering, before taking a deep breath and giving in, “You know what? Fine! I'll let you both take over, see how well you do, but I'm not gonna be responsible for how Black Hat reacts!”

The two multicolored women weren't even listening to him, as the two were writing down suggestions and even making some pictures on their garbage writ- er…“script”. Clemencia then pulled down a large, long projection screen out of nowhere and the two hid behind the screen. Clem whispered, “Aaaaaaaannnndddd...action!”

Cam-Bot just shook its head and then rewound the footage before starting it back up again. Suddenly, an image of a half lizard and half unicorn skull crying out rainbows in front of heart that had nails all over it appeared on the screen. The two magically poofed in front of the screen. Demencia was holding a bloodied baseball bat that had nails all over it and Clemencia held a pink and gold axe that had hearts within the blade and pink bows along the handle. Flug groaned, as he sat down with a mug in his hand that...possibly held coffee, “Oh boy.”

Demencia greeted, “Welcome, you gross boils of the underworld, it's your ruthless, badass Demencia to teach you scrubs about how to truly capture and torture your victims, whether they be a hero or a disgusting, useless, sidekick, nerdboy!”

Flug gave loud sigh, but didn't say anything. The lizard woman pointed to Clemencia and introduced, “And who better to check over such methods than with- Gah!”

Clemencia suddenly brought her into a spine-crushing hug and lifted her off of the ground, exclaiming, “Than with her no-as-equally-but-pretty-dang-close-at-least-hope-so-or-I’ll-cry-in-the-tub-again-tonight gorgeous girlfriend, Clemencia!”

Dem growled, as she hit her over head with the bat, “I'm not your girlfriend, dumb broad!”

Each hit that she made just made a squeaky toy noise. Flug blinked at the both of them and then cleared his throat. The two stared at him before going back to their normal poses and Dem went on like nothing happened, “Than with this horrible excuse of a hero over here!”

The unicorn witch smiled and giggled, while her horn made random sparks of pink magic. The screen then changed while Dem continued, “Now, some idiots would give you stupid little ideas that you can lead your victim by using things that they love,” a drawing of Clemencia had her being led to a trap by a Demencia doll on a string, “or being hung over acid,” another image of Clem being hung over acid that she just changed into jello with a confused, smelly Flug, “or, even lamer, with injections,” and then the final was another Flug with the words “gross nerd” over his head poking a confused hero in the eye with a syringe.

Clemencia then quickly added in, “Well, I never thought they were lame or anything, just that I know you can do it a bit better with that big boy brain of yours, Fluggy~!”

Flug corrected, “That’s Dr. Flug Slys to you.”

“Ya got it, Flug-bug!” Clemencia smiled with a cute little wink afterwards, making Flug just take bigger gulps of his “coffee”. Demencia put a finger to her mouth, fake gagging, and asked in an annoyed tone, “Are you two done being weird?”

Clem mumbled, looking slightly concerned, “...I-I was being…” and then a fully forced smile came across her face and she said cheerfully, “Yes, I am, my wonderful savior! ...Um,” she then levitated Flug’s mug to herself, grabbed it, and then tossed it right into his face with a blank expression. The mug spilt all over Flug upon impact and he fell back with a loud thud, shouting, “WHYYYYY!?”

Demencia blinked at the whole and then went back to the commercial, “Anyway, a little help from Dem and Clem will get your ass back in line with these three easy options! Number one: Don’t go for all that complicated garbage! Your own body should be plenty to attract those dumb heroes.”

The image on the screen changed to a drawing of a hero cornering Demencia in an alleyway, while she was wearing chainmail armor lingerie that had a the Black Hat logo on her panties. Clemencia’s eyes turned into hearts, despite one of them twitching at the “dumb heroes” comment, and added in, “Which should be plenty easy, if you’re as sexy as Demencia! However, if you’re not- which a good majority of you aren’t -then this second option is for you! Number two: As much as we heroes love kicking your butts from here to Atreno City,” a Clem drawing had her kicking villains, while they’re curled up on the ground, like Flamme, Mother Poltergeist, Mawrasite, and, of course, Flug, “there’s nothing we love more than peaceful agreements.”

Next was a copy-and-pasted picture of the signing of the Declaration of Independence, but they had a bunch of villains’ and heroes’ faces drawn poorly over all the political figures’ faces with Clem and Dem sharing Thomas Jefferson’s face. The actual document was scribbled with Demencia’s crayon and Clemencia’s sparkly marker writing that read: “Blah blah blah,” “Dem for president,” “Clem was here <3,” and a signature “Flug the virgin.” Clemencia went on, “However, we also have a high sense of smell to know when there's bullshit afoot, so try to at least seem a bit more genuine than what you’re actually doing,” a picture of an annoyed Vanity appeared at a dinner table with Dark Phantom in a suit, who was looking extremely nervous and holding a ray gun behind his back.

Demencia then said, “And, finally, the torture! The fun part! Now that you’ve clearly used the first method to capture your foe because the second one is for complete morons-”

Clemencia shifted on her and chuckled nervously, “Heehee...right…”

The lizard hybrid then went on, “The best way that you can torture your hero is by causing them the slowest amount of pain possible and that their screams are filling your entire lair!”

The image on the screen showed a hero tied up to a chair, looking absolutely terrified, while Demencia was doing various tactics on them like using thumb-screws to drill through their fingers, using a red hot iron rod to brand their skin, or reading bad fanfiction. All the while the hero seemed to be in extreme anguish. Demencia then added, “However, if the hero is somehow resilient, you can also do the same to the sidekick or family,” the drawings changed to her doing the same to those people, instead of the hero.

“Whichever one you do, the hero should be able to do whatever you wish after a whole 24 hours of torture, but if you’re as good as me, you’ll have it done in less than 30 minutes. Heroes are absolutely traumatized afterwards though, so make sure to throw them out afterwards,” drawing Dem was throwing the hero into the incinerator, “Although, that may be hard because most heroes are stupid and useless already to begin with. Right, Clemencia? ….Right!?”

…

Dem growled as she sharply turned to her, only to stop at seeing Clem holding onto herself and also shivering. Clemencia started tearing up and she stuttered, “I-I’m...I’m n-not useless….o-or….stupid...r-right?”

The lizard hybrid just bit her lip and looked away, causing Clem to whimper and then teleport out of there. Right as soon as she did, Flug came back into the lab, holding a cloth covered ice pack on his bagged face, and asked, looking around, “Hey, where did the poster child for insulin shots go to?”

He then noticed Demencia looking somewhat saddened and guilty, as if she made a mistake. Flug was about to reach out to her and ask if she was alright, but then suddenly the projector caught alight by red flames, as Black Hat rose from the flames. His eye completely black with a red, slitted pupil and his form shifting and changing as eyes, mouths, and tentacles appeared. The tentacles squeezed around the two, strangling them, and Cam-Bot quickly ran out out of there before it got taken. Black snarled at the two, “What is going on here!?”

Demencia made a stupid comment about Black Hat always taking her breath away, while Flug made his famous dying seal squeaks.

At White Hat’s manor, as the moon was rising, Clemencia hung half her torso off of the balcony connected to her room, sighing at all that Demencia said and wondering where exactly she went wrong. She messed with the bow on her ponytail, while her unicorn hoodie’s eyes started tearing up. She mumbled to herself, “Maybe I’m just too bubbly at times...and I doubt myself too much...and...I eat too much cake! Ugh! I need to change my ways! I need to get tough and more wild like Demmie!”

She then lifted up her body back up to the top and the moment that she did, she felt lips press against her cheek, as well as catching the scent of roses, spray paint, and raw meat. Clem summoned a large mallet and shouted, “How dare you steal Demencia’s scent!?”

She then looked around and saw nobody there, but did see a note placed onto the railing of the balcony. She tilted her head as she placed the mallet back into her hair and grabbed onto the note to see what it said: “I wasn’t talking about you being useless or anything like that, dum-dum! You’re pretty...alright. I just gotta keep up an image, ya know? Now stop being so emotional or else I’ll have to cuddle you! >:3c”

Clemencia blinked at the letter before her eyes turned into hearts and a dopey smile grew across her face, while hugging the paper close to her chest. Yeah, it wasn’t anything all that poetic, but it was absolutely beautiful in her eyes. She then looked down at at her balcony and noticed some red and green paint that was on the railing of where the note was. She turned the note around and saw red and green painted words that read: “By the way, got ya a surprise! Turn around!”

The unicorn witch spun around with a bright smile and saw a bomb with “Dem waz here” spray-painted onto it, making Clem coo, “Awwww, Demmie!!!”

I’ll probably make some fanfic about the other two...uh...*looks at hand* Shite Bat and Plug

#villainous #villainous fic #villainous au #heroic #heroic au #villainos #villanos #vilainos #vilanos #clemencia #clementia #demencia #dementia #kenning flugslys #flug slys #flug #dr flug #black hat #fanfiction #writing #writers on tumblr #my writing #pastel punk

[calleo-bricriu]

what's the de sade ripoff book like anyway?

It’s like listening to someone who thinks they’re a genius but who’s really sort of–slightly below average at everything ramble on and on and on for over 400 pages about how they’re a genius and everyone around them is making their life horrible because they don’t understand how much of a genius he is.

Also, alcohol isn’t a stimulant at all, let alone a strong one. I guess, to be entirely fair, if I found out my Mum had a sex dungeon in the house I’d probably need a drink as well.

A lot of drinks.

And an Obliviator.

Finding out your mum has a sex dungeon is a pretty reasonable excuse to drink a lot.

Anyway, this author is allegedly a doctor, he ought to know damn well alcohol isn’t a stimulant.

I really do just love how it’s the same exact story, only with worse writing and set in Dresden–then Hamburg–then…New York City.

Some guy named Newcomber completely flips out any time someone says a woman’s name around him in his own house. It’s never explained why. I feel like that should have been an important plot point? Maybe he’s assuming everyone’s already read the book he blatantly lifted from.

Men just need to not be allowed to describe women in their books if they’re going to do it like this: “Seated in a large leathern chair was a dainty piece of pink-cheeked, dark-haired, ebon-eyed femininity. Her sealskin jacket fitted snugly her lithe form, and a fascinating toque rounded off the saucy, childlike appearance of the young woman.”

That’s the sort of description that makes you feel like you need to run a Scourgify through your entire brain.

I’ve read, as I mentioned yesterday, de Sade; all of his uncensored garbage and the difference is, de Sade knew he was a shite writer.

He was just one of those obnoxious people that feels the need to be edgy for shock value; to get a reaction. He wasn’t ever trying to be good at it, he just wanted to get a reaction and have people pay attention to him, which he got–usually in the form of prison.But, the end result of that is that his writing aged in a way that makes it so completely off the wall ridiculous that it’s more funny and less shocking now.

Like–right, if you’ve never read 120 Days of Sodom you should, because all it is is this list of increasingly improbable to impossible scenarios, in actual list form, that are discussed by the characters like they’re going over a list of chores they need to do that afternoon.

One involved mice and cannons, actual cannons, that somehow didn’t result in death or injury to anyone (including the mice), another had to do with somehow arranging it so a woman would give birth to a goat, which would then become a sex slave–the goat, not the woman, I think he forgot there was a woman involved in that one by the time he got to the impossible goat baby–and when you read something like that, you know damn well the person writing it was writing what they were writing as bait to see how mad people would get about it.

This idiot, however, didn’t appear to get the joke and is taking his own…version of Justine very, very seriously which leaves you more with a really creeped out feeling than a, “HA! I can’t believe anyone fell for this, it’s so obviously written as over the top with intent to offend people too stupid to get the joke,” sort of thing.

So, moving on from the creepy description of childlike femininity–and who says woman like that anyway?

Ms. Femininity gets up and gives the, “Never Say A Woman’s Name In My House For Any Reason Ever” Newcomber a kiss and he just sort of shrugs it off, which makes her concerned but since he never bothered detailing whatever backstory these two have I guess I’m just supposed to make one up. Guessing that, because it was described as “armorous” they’re lovers but, it might have had more of an impact if he’d–mentioned that previously at some point?

This is only page sixteen, as an aside.

She was gossiping with his mom and mom let slip that he was leaving Dresden and she’s upset but again, no backstory given between these two so we don’t even know how or why she knows his mother. All we know about that relationship is that his mom grosses him out probably because of the sex dungeon thing, which is a fair reason to not want to visit your mother’s house.

So he’s pretty meh about the kiss hello, she loses her mind about it and says he’s being cruel then flings herself onto the sofa for a good cry about which he doesn’t even care.

His name is Leigh, apparently, which is a perfectly common German name, as is Newcomber..

And she’s–Tahitian (but upper class, he’s emphasised that, can’t have him screwing around with a commoner from Tahiti, obviously) and grew up in…Honolulu and got married to a US Navy officer two years before she met the guy in Dresden that she just kissed and is now crying over while the author scrambles for a backstory.

Great, got married at sixteen, is now referred to as a “child-wife” and somehow his deployment from Honolulu landed her in…Dresden.

He should have known not to leave her alone in Dresden because, since she’s Tahitian, that means she’s just going to start cheating on him the second his back is turned (which appears to be what’s happening here).

An entire page later, we find out her name is Obera, and the guy whose mom has a sex dungeon who straight up ignores her is apparently the love of her life despite the fact that all we’ve seen so far is that he’s straight up not the least bit interested in her.

That finally ended and we’re back to her crying on the sofa and he tells her to knock it off because it makes him feel mean–when he was just mean to her not even two full pages ago. Leigh’s got a terrible memory, I guess.

“Finely-molded limbs”. Stop it.

A few paragraphs of Obera going on about how Leigh’s sister, Mizpra, is a complete and utter bitch and Leigh agreeing with her that Mizpra is, in fact, a complete and utter bitch. I might be too if my name were Mizpra.

At this point, in the middle of Obera trying to explain some theological lecture she attended, the author butts in to tell us that the lectures are FACTS then references some article in Popular Science Monthly from May 1989 called, “Witchcraft in Bavaria” right after Leigh starts talking about how Dresden has lousy weather and they’re going to the Rhine because the climate is that much different–five hours barely South and mostly West of Dresden, though it might be closer depending on where along the Rhine they’re going; its a river, and it’s not exactly a short one.

It also apparently has a climate similar to Honolulu which tells me he’s never been to either place but, it’s fiction, so why the hell not?

I’m only on page 22 now, as an aside.

Suffer with me, this is awful.

So he’s already planned this whole thing, someone named Frau Leidmann will lie to everyone and tell them that Obera is traveling with some old woman, he’s sending a telegram from…New York asking her to meet some made up person in Hamburg which, incidentally, is five hours North of Dresden and if you’re trying to aim for a warmer, closer to Honolulu climate here, you don’t want to be going North but okay, fine, we’re going to Hamburg.

Author really ought to have consulted a map before writing this.

“Was it right that he should take her with him and wreck her life?” Um–if you have to ask…

Wonderful, well, at least by now she’s 18 because she got married two years previously at 16.

By page 23 he’s essentially admitted he doesn’t like her much at all but she’s hot and young so he’s going with that. Not creepy at all.

“He would throw her aside as he would any other obstacle. Was this love?” …no. We established that two paragraphs ago when his thought was straight up that he didn’t love her.

Can’t take her back to the US with him but–he’s–that part was never mentioned at any point, as far as we’ve known until page 24 is that the guy lives in Dresden, his sister is a bitch, and his mom has a sex dungeon.

Nothing dignified about his appearance, likes his laboratory, doesn’t have a real job, nobody understands him, I’m starting to think it’s less that his sister is a bitch and more that he’s just kind of a whiny creep.

So, that’s the end of chapter 1.

Chapter two starts with him explaining why he named one of his dogs Bridget and why he’s mad that Obera could not possibly care less. I couldn’t possibly care less either but he explains it anyway in the weirdest possible way, “They do not associate the name with the beautiful, refined, and historically interesting woman who gave it such prominence. How can you associate a noisy, china-breaking, red-headed, befuzzled, opinionated ruler of the kitchen with Bridget the Goddess of Poetry, the Gaelic Muse, the sentimental, impulsive Sappho of ancient Ireland?”

Man, don’t talk about your dog that way, just don’t. I don’t like where you’re going with it.

Dagda gets a much shorter, “he was the all-king, almost the Zeus of ancient Ireland.”

Ah, and Obera is, of course, a princess. A Tahitian princess.

From Honolulu.

Which is famously in Tahiti and not a six hour flight–a thing that didn’t exactly exist in 1901 so I’m assuming it would have taken a hell of a lot longer by boat–North on an entirely different set of islands.

Okay.

You know, at least de Sade knew where physical locations of places were.

Do you know how bad something as to be that, not even 35 full pages in, you can not only recognise it as a direct derivative work of the Marquis de Sade but also have it be abundantly clear that it’s, like, a version of it so poorly done that the only reason you’re still reading it is because you kind of now want to see just how much more idiotic the story can get?

That’s what this book is like.

“He arose and went to her, took her on his lap, and talked to her as though she were a child.” No. No, stop that right now.

Four pages of him explaining that the reason why he ordered, ordered, her to read a childrens book was to prove to her how all folk tales are all the same and nothing is original and something about random Greek philosophers, then Why Catholics Are Right.

I might have been as bored reading that as Obera probably was having to listen to it.

HA! SHE FELL ASLEEP WHILE HE WAS TALKING!

She has a nap, wakes up later, and has somehow…uh…received a letter from that guy she married in Honolulu basically saying, “We both made a mistake. Divorce time.” and is somehow upset by this despite it being established in the last chapter that she wasn’t super interested in him anyway as the first thing she did when he ended up deployed was start fucking this idiot of a pseudo-intellectual.

…and this is somehow Mizpra’s fault, so I’m assuming she tattled, then he straight up jumps from, “Yeah I don’t love her, she’s just hot I guess” to “I LOVE YOU LET’S GET MARRIED DEFINITELY NOT TO SPITE MY SISTER!”

That’s not sarcasm. That’s exactly what it was. Right after he does the, “I love you! I’ll marry you!” (twice in a row at that, nobody talks like that) he moves right onto “the bitch can’t laugh at you getting busted cheating if we get married” which is not entirely sound logic but that’s where we’re going.

Robert Mesney hopefully got out of this stupid plot by realising what was going on and filing for divorce.

Actually, he doesn’t even ask her  to marry him he tells her that he’s going to marry her and doesn’t give her the option to object which I guess is just fine because at some point during his rant about his sister being a tattling bitch Obera fainted and he just…didn’t notice until he let her go and she fell over because of the being unconscious thing. Even then he didn’t really care, he just sort of went, “Oh.” and dropped her back on the bed.

Now she’s talking about his “aged countenance” which might be a little more fair if it hadn’t been mentioned that he’s 25. It’s not exactly old enough to count as “aged countenance”.

Apparently he’s also an alcoholic, which they keep referring to as dipsomania. Good idea, marry the 25 year old alcoholic who the plot has established doesn’t even love you (nor has he shown it at any point in their interactions apart from shouting it at her after finding out his sister told her soon-to-be-ex-husband that Obera was cheating on him), that’ll go well for everyone involved. I don’t see what could possibly go wrong here.

The servant at this place in Hamburg has been going on for five and a half pages about how Leigh is a drunk and how it’s his mother’s fault or something then just rambling on about his own family tree for no actual reason and how he’s somehow related to Leigh but also is looking forward to the time when the last Newcomber dies.

That’s chapter 2.

Chapter 3 starts with the fact that Leigh said he’d be back by lunch and it’s been three days and he’s still not back; I guess, to be fair, he didn’t say by lunch on which day.

He’s just out binge drinking in Hamburg.

Shows up four days later at four in the morning and immediately starts drinking again and none of this is a red flag for her.

Now they’re–he’s going to Paris, she’s going back to…the US from Havre, and he’s somehow decided it’s a better idea for him to not also go to the US via Havre but to instead go to Liverpool and leave from there. Okay.

This is only page 44 out of 408.

Mizpra wants to control their mother to snag most of her estate out from under Leigh, it appears as though she’s just his stepsister anyway, Mrs. Kassel is apparently a nice lady because the author hammers that point away for a good two solid pages and she’s going to New York with Obera because she apparently owns a house on Fifth Avenue.

All right.

She just randomly tells Obera that crooked noses and mental illness (sorry, “bad psychic quality”) runs in the family. Still no red flags for Obera.

Skips right to the wedding which has…no detail at all. Literally the only mention it gets after all of that build up is, “The wedding took place at Mrs. Kassel’s, who attended to every detail,” then moves right on to Leigh getting a flat in uptown and a job at a hospital and to mention that his mother’s letters were “curt, unresponsive, and insulting” for which he blames Mizpra.

Couldn’t be the fact that he ran off to the US with a still married 18 year old without telling anyone, why would that bother someone’s mother?

He either gets fired or quits at the hospital, it was never mentioned either way, and has irregular work so now they’re behind on bills and Obera’s “condition” requires quiet and rest and…Mrs. Kassel to take her on a vacation I guess. Time skip from spring to autumn and, to nobody’s surprise, Obera comes back with a baby and her idiot of a husband is still unemployed and also didn’t seem to notice or care that she was gone (because that’s never mentioned) for almost a year.

By this point, Leigh straight up hates his mom and Mizpra is a “moral criminal” but it’s not explained how, just that she is.

Mom, Mizpra, and a whole bunch of their maids suddenly turn up at an uptown hotel and he just–takes off to go and see them despite having spent the last few pages going on about how he can’t stand either of them.

Sister’s got masculine handwriting which is somehow important to know.

Oh, let’s see, what else are we learning about Mizpra: Large jaws, muscled neck, small hips, uncomely waist, large hands, bold frame, coarse features, a “masculine larynx” and she–author keeps refering to Mizpra as she so that’s what I’m going with here–tells him to fuck off and that she’ll call the police if he tries to see mother.

So, instead of trying to reason with her (also why did they come over from Desden if they didn’t want to see him?) he just tells her she looks like a man.

“Mother doesn’t want to see you.”

“YEAH, WELL YOU LOOK LIKE A MAN! CHECKMATE! I AM SUCH AN INTELLECTUAL!”

Great display of the long winded nonsense the author gave everyone about what an intelligent intellectual this idiot is; best he can come up with is to tell his sister she looks like a man.

He still doesn’t have a job.

It’s been almost an entire year, how have they not been evicted from that flat yet?

Oh, but he has money to go out and get trashed again, though.

And he’s rambling to the bartender about people staring at “crippled children” for some fucking reason while the bartender pretty much pretends to listen.

He drinks because he’s a genius. That’s it. That’s the reason. He’s a genius and nobody gets him so he drinks.

58 pages in and I can kind of see why this guy’s sister doesn’t particularly care for him. I don’t particularly care for him either and, so far, am kind of on Mizpra’s side on this one.

Random name dropping list of famous people who had epilepsy or who were alcoholics or drug addicts. For an entire five pages. Nothing else, just a list, until he gets to Edgar Allan Poe who apparently had a psychic incubus problem instead.

One long paragraph held together by semicolons that says nothing at all.

Five pages about how his drinking problem is literally just like lycanthropy only, instead of turning into a wolf, he just goes to a pub and does so more often than once every full moon.

Same thing though. Exactly like lycanthropy which we all know is caused by thinking you’re a genius then being mad that nobody else agrees with that self-assessment.

More internal dialogue about how everybody is an idiot except him, because he’s a genius that nobody understands.

Somehow.

A few more pages of comparing himself to Nero which is not strictly the best comparison someone could make unless he’s planning to burn New York City down.

Couple of pages of internal dialogue about how he shouldn’t have to get a job because he’s a genius and people should just pay him to grace them with his presence.

End of Chapter 4 and I can’t keep reading this anymore today. This might be the worst thing I’ve ever read and not at all for the reasons the author was intending; it’s not shocking unless you’re shocked by how badly it’s written.

It’s so bad it’s almost exhausting.

#painfully bad literature #books #I actually wish I could go back in time just to beat this guy to death with his own 400 page manifesto #about this genius that isn't even remotely close to being one #and also kind of for the whole Edgar Allan Poe was killed by a psychic incubus thing #The terrible medical advice I can kind of overlook because most of it was like that #hp rp #long post

[potterandpreferences]

I think I love you (Part One)

This has been sitting in my drafts for ages (since August or September 2018, I think? So about 4 months). It was originally going to be a oneshot but as I don't have time to write today and I couldn't yesterday as I was at BETA International, I've decided to post what has been written so far and I'll finish it with a second part at a later date.

As always requests are open. For now, on with the story!

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader

***

You didn't like Defense Against the Dark Arts this year. It was nothing against the subject, more so the prejudiced professor who made it clear that most of the creatures you had learnt about over the previous four years were vermin to be culled.

As a review before the Christmas holidays, he wanted two rolls of parchment on how to identify and kill werewolves. Naturally, you were disgusted by his attitude and the pure glee with which he spoke about exterminating an entire 'subspecies'. You'd written the essay, but not about how to kill them. You wrote about other methods of helping them. You criticised the traditional notion that they should be killed on sight for being dangerous, detailing exactly why such views were antiquated and harmful to society.

It's suffice to say that the professor wasn't impressed. As he handed the assignments back to the class he paused in front of your desk.

"Detention, Y/L/N, for your homework grade. O.W.L students should not be getting Ts," he snarled. You were aware of people staring at you but you just shoved the parchment in your bag and avoided their gazes. It was worth a detention, you thought, to go against such a horrible professor. Someone had to, after all, and it seemed you weren't alone because Sirius Black, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew all received detentions for the same reason as well.

As you were leaving the classroom at the end of the lesson, James Potter and Sirius Black caught up with you.

"Hey, Y/L/N, what did you write about to get a T?" Potter asked. You'd never really spoken much to the Marauders and the sudden interest surprised you.

"I wrote about how werewolves should be treated. Guess the professor didn't approve of my methods," you replied dryly.

"Can I read it?" Sirius was admittedly very interested. He and his friends had written absolute nonsense because they were all personally offended - Remus Lupin was the fourth member of their quartet and a werewolf. Of course they weren't going to do the assignment properly. But you, you had no clue that your classmate was a werewolf. Moreover, you weren't one to get in trouble with a teacher.

You watched James and Sirius for a moment, but as they seemed genuinely curious and not like they were about to prank you, you pulled out your assignment and duplicated it. You handed them a copy before saying goodbye and making your way to your next class.

***

"I'm telling you Moony, she's clearly got her head screwed on right. Why don't you ask her out?"

It was a few months after the werewolf assignment incident. The Marauders were all impressed by your viewpoints, and could attest to the fact that having both a territory and a pack greatly settled a werewolf. Moony was only violent on the first full moon after the summer since James, Sirius and Peter became animagi.

Nothing much had changed in the way of your relationship with the marauders, but you certainly had their respect. They never let a prank get too close to you, and were always up for a friendly chat if they saw you by yourself.

Remus had developed something of a crush on you in that time. It had nothing to do with your viewpoint on werewolves - as far as he was concerned, he was a monster - but more so the passion with which you wrote. You weren't the best student in school by any means, but you were hard working and it was easy to tell which subjects meant most to you. You answered and asked questions more readily in those classes, and he liked how willing you were to help your classmates if they needed it. You had a kind soul, and he admired you from afar.

James and Sirius, extroverts that they were, could not understand why Remus wouldn't ask you out. Whenever they spoke to you they dropped hints that weren't at all subtle and achieved little more than embarrassing both you and Remus.

"She deserves someone better than me, James. We've been over this." Remus rubbed his eyes tiredly, glancing around the common room. It was louder than normal, Gryffindor having a quidditch game the next day. Deciding that he wasn't going to get any more work done here, he shoved his books back in his bag and muttered something about going to the library.

... and of course you would be there. Why wouldn't you be? It wasn't like he was trying to avoid thinking about you or anything.

"Hey, Remus," you greeted when you spotted him. Reluctantly he joined your table, his eyebrows raising in surprise at the sight of the law books stacked on the table which you were hastily shifting.

"Anything I can help with?" Remus asked as he observed the scrolls of parchment with huge chunks of text scribbled out and the ink stains on your hands.

"Not unless you can think of a really easy way to implement changes to an entire society." You yawned widely, eyes sore from pouring over the texts all day. "I want werewolves to be more accepted. I want the laws to change. It's just a lot harder than I thought it would be. The hatred is so entrenched in wizarding culture and I have no real interest in politics."

Remus stared at you in poorly disguised shock. What you were proposing could be considered a revolution. The popularity of his father's proposals and treatment of werewolves was testament to that fact. His mouth open and closed several times as he tried to formulate a response.

"Why?" He eventually managed to choke out, horror filling him at the very thought of monsters like Fenrir Greyback having the law on their side.

You looked up sharply. "Because in the last few decades, it has only been a minority of werewolves that actively hunt and endanger humans," you stated coldly. You had thought Remus would show more compassion. He seemed kind. Maybe he inherited more from his father than you originally thought.

"Werewolves are monsters, Y/N. That is a fact."

Remus shifted uncomfortably as you stared him down, his eyes shifting away from yours as the tension became even more frosty.

"Werewolves transform for up to three days a month. That is the only time they are a hazard. Voldemort is human. He kills someone in cold blood at least that many times a week," You snarled, slamming your books shut. You gathered up your parchment, shoving it in your bag. Leaving the books you hadn't checked out yet, you stood up angrily. "Pleasure seeing you, Lupin."

With that, you stalked out the library. Remus remained at the table, slightly stunned. He hadn't expected you to get quite that defensive so quickly. It was a bitter irony that one of the people you wanted to represent was now one you seemed to dislike.

#marauders era #marauders imagine #marauder imagine #remus lupin #remus x reader #sirius black #james potter #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #reader

[scriptlgbt]

Would it still be offensive to purposely write a badfic and advertise it as such and write in all sorts of horribly done lgbt characters?

If you are a member of all of the groups you would potentially be offending, it should be fine, provided you have all the appropriate trigger warnings and ideally, consult other folks in these demographics aside from just yourself. It could actually be a pretty funny satire.

But if you aren’t part of the community, please don’t do this. It’s probable that there would be a lot of misunderstandings and miscommunications, and you could be portraying someone who similar to a real person who would read this and feel thrown under the bus because their existence is being written as offensive.

If you do something like this, it needs to be done properly. And your satire needs to be clearly poking at authors who don’t get it, and in no way be confused for something serious, even by the most clueless of readers. It would also probably be advisable to explain or heavily imply within the story why it is bad representation.

Like, here’s an example paragraph where I’m writing an intentionally poorly done trans character, using stereotypes and ignorant narration and stuff.

Marcel, who used to be Marcella, had a burly face and angular body, thanks to years of taking testosterone pills. Every time he was misgendered, he punched that person in the face. His girlfriend, who knew him from when he was a woman, could hardly even tell anymore that he once was Marcella.

And here’s the issues I crammed in there:

using naming stereotypes (yes trans people do go to a convenient/nearby name every now and again, but not at the rate cis people write us)

“used to be a [gender]” trope (most trans people feel this is misgendering, because we were still ourselves even if it didn’t look like it to cis people. fluidity happens though so that works for that! and some trans people do feel this narrative explains their personal experience but it is generally overrepresented as a more mainstream experience than it is, and is usually very offensive.)

focus on describing body in fetishy ways and only in reference to hormones - not in any way that would actually help recognize the character if you met them in real life

estrogen usually comes as a pill (and spironolactone and other blockers are usually part of the regimen too until/unless gonads are removed)

reacting with violence to misgendering. (don’t get me wrong, that level of upset happens, but it’s not from one person misgendering unintentionally, and trans people know that violence they perpetrate will be used as a weapon against all trans people if it becomes known.) (tbh I’m not going to get into this here because it’s some dicey political stuff, but most of the violence I have witnessed perpetrated by other trans people is usually towards others in the community because it is known that we can’t come forward about it without it getting us back. I’m not going to go around saying that trans people are immune to being violent because that would dehumanize the lot of us, but it just doesn’t look like this. this is some conservative political cartoon bullshittery.)

the chaser* partner is. a chaser. this is pretty much paraphrased from some bad smut I read on AO3 tbh. and a LGBT+ youth group worker who said something like this about one of her partners after they got top surgery. a bunch of us who were in that group were warning others about it for years after she left actually. basically: don’t define your partners with some kind of ridiculous before and after thing. there’s more to a person than that. the only time I’ve ever thought about noticeable transition-related differences in my friends are when I haven’t seen them in a long time and need to recalibrate how I distinguish them from others when I see them. it’s not really visually any different from if somebody gets a new haircut or is wearing glasses now. it’s cool and stuff, but it’s superficial and in loved ones, we’re much more likely to notice that someone is carrying themselves with more confidence now or something like that. these things matter because they matter to our friend or whoever.

*Chasers are cis people who fetishize and try and date trans people, just because of our transness.

Anyway basically just know what you are doing, and if you are cis and totally straight, don’t do this at all tbh. Cool idea but who writes it makes a big difference in terms of how it is received.

- mod nat

#mod nat #satire #badfic #intentionally bad #intentionally poorly written #intentionally bad representation #bad representation #Anonymous

[givemelust-for-life]

Breaking Up With Someone You Love <3

That’s what I just did. I had been thinking about doing it for a while. Actually..let me fix that; basically did it...Got back together...And did it again. It feels horrible. I feel horrible. But it’s what I needed to do.

The last few days I scoured the internet googling things like what it’s like to break up with someone you love, and all I got were a bunch of dumb 10 ways to blabla articles written by dumbasses, squeezed in between advertisements. So now that I’ve done it I’ll just write about it here in case anyone wants to read anything real.

It’s like every time we were together I’d leave thinking, “ok somehow I have to break up with him”. But then he would be so generous, so loving and supportive.

He’s the best cuddle buddy. He’s the person I am closest to while living in a foreign country. But then he wanted to hang out 7 days a week and would sometimes get offended when I made other plans. I felt like I couldn’t dedicate the time necessary to my art when I had to be so committed to him. I couldn't dedicate the time to practice Spanish. I’m living in Mexico but spending over half my time in someone’s house...speaking English with them. I could have just stayed in Michigan for that!

He would get upset if I didn’t respond to his texts within an hour. If I didn’t answer his call because I was in the shower I would find my phone with 3 missed calls in a row, and that irritated the shit out of me. But it’s not because he was being possessive. It’s because he was being needy. Needy of my love and support because he doesn’t love himself. He needs my love to feel good and I feel so bad that I just can’t do that anymore. I can’t be his sole support system while I discover myself and figure out what I’m doing with my life.

But he would prioritize me above all else. Anything in his house was mine to use, borrow, eat. I would get up to get something and he’d say, “here let me get it for you”. He treated me like a princess...and I just called him on the phone and said “I’m not happy being in a relationship anymore”.

He didn’t even take it that poorly. I was the one crying. He sounded upset but told me not to worry. He told ME not to worry. Just hearing his voice made me want to hug him. I want to be there to make him feel better. But I’m the reason he feels bad.

Does anyone else feel like this right now?

#love #heartbreak #breakups #guilt #relationships

[guernsey-island]

Fanfiction Writer Appreciation

I've read only around 50 fanfics. I have a 15 page color coded document on my laptop of all the fics I've read, plan to read, am currently reading, and am waiting for updates on. I have another document with summaries of all the fics I've read. The last document I have just contains the numbered links. Like I said, I've probably only read around 50 fanfics (I'd have to check my documents to be sure). I read mostly slow burns. I've read a few one shots-- maybe only a few thousand words. The rest have been literal monsters-- the longest one being around 282k. I read it in 2 days.

I take my fanfic-reading very seriously. For a lot of fanfics I read maybe the first chapter. If the writing is poor and the grammar mistakes are unforgivable, I discard it immediately. I rarely even glance at fics below 50k. Yeah,,,, I'm kinda picky. I've got high standards. I read only the best and damn the best is GOOD. I've come across writers whose style rivals even the best authors. I'm a huge fan of wittyy_name, klancekorner, locks, izayas, DJBunn3, and now Authoress. There are writers who have just BLEW ME AWAY. When I'm reading there are times when I'm just in full fangirl mode. I'm like smiling at my device, laughing, making that uwu face. I screenshot all of my favorite parts. When I'm reading a fic my sister can't do her homework because I'm always sending her small sections that are just amazingly beautiful or incredibly beautiful. I can assure you that I am not inexperienced when it comes to fanfiction and I can assure you that I absolutely love it. I cannot describe how much I love it.

But one thing I've realized through my time here on ao3 is how ungrateful and selfish I am. More and more of my favorite writers are... disappearing. Updates come less frequently and then just.. stop. And... it's my fault. I only recently started commenting on fanfics and leaving kudos. Before a few weeks ago it was a foreign subject. I'd read the fanfic, fangirl silently, and close the tab. Authors pour their hearts and souls into their writing. They sit at their laptop for hours writing, having an existential crisis, and worrying about their writing. They're up late working to get the wording just right. Backspacing every few lines. Editing, rereading, editing, rereading and finally posting the work to the eyes of the judgmental public. (I know. I've attempted multiple times to write fanfiction, all times of which ended horribly. Writing fanfiction is hard. It's not easy) They burn themselves out to get a deadline done so we can enjoy a plot twist, have our otp coming together, and have our stress relieved. And yet what do we do for them? What have I done to support my beloved writers? I only take. I don't acknowledge writers' efforts. I just take. And that's it.

I've realized that I don't deserve the hard work of numerous writers on ao3 (and other fanfiction platforms). I can call myself "a lover of fanfiction" but that wouldn't be true as I haven't been appreciating the writers. I.. really want to change this. In the past I was afraid of commenting and the judgement that might come with it, but I realize now this is nothing compared to the scrutiny authors fear by posting hundred thousand word workings of their imagination.

I realize now that I need to pay fanfiction writers back. I need to show that they are loved and appreciated. Even if it's in a poorly constructed, silly, or embarrassing comment. If I want fanfiction-- if I want to continue to read beautiful works of art-- then I must play my role in making it happen. It's a small part, but it's critical.

I need to apologize to all of the writers here on ao3 whom I have unknowingly offended. I've stolen from you all. You work with no pay but the few short comments of readers. I can't blame the writers who've disappeared. It's my fault entirely. You guys have gone too long without a necessary part of the fanfiction writing process. You've been working tirelessly to serve ungrateful readers such as myself. If I want a great meal, I should at least wash the plates and praise the cook. Thank you. I'll play my part from now on.

#fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction writer appreciation post #fanfiction writer appreciation #fanfic writer appreciation #fanfic writer appreciation post #fanfic writers #fanfiction writers #fanfiction writers support #vld #voltron legendary defender #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #yuri on ice #haikyuu #bnha #yoi #hq #bungou stray dogs #bts #got7

[lj-writes]

I finished my paper! MLA sources and everything! Everyone feel free to share with your friends who liked TLJ.

Star Wars and Treating Art With Respect

Star Wars: a space opera of undeniable cultural impact. It is unusual not to have heard of Star Wars, let alone seen at least one of the films. Though individually only a select portion of the films are undisputed masterpieces, the collective saga is iconic and enduring. At least, this was true of the original six episodes— the largely praised The Force Awakens was accused of being derivative. But mediocre Star Wars films are nothing new; in the past, the prequel trilogy has been criticized as such. The film that tarnishes the enduring saga is Rian Johnson’s Star Wars: Episode VIII— The Last Jedi. The Last Jedi is a flippant insult to the fanbase, but worse, its messages are terrible and offensive.

The most glaring issue is that of Reylo. “Reylo” is the romantic pairing (colloquially, shipping) of Rey and Kylo Ren, the protagonist and antagonist of the sequel trilogy, by the fanbase. Rian Johnson seems to be a Reylo shipper, as evidenced by his assertion that Rey and Kylo are “two halves of [the film’s] protagonist.” This directly contradicts the previous film, where Kylo Ren was the antagonist. Meanwhile, Finn was Rey’s co-protagonist and harbored mutual romantic feelings for her. In The Last Jedi, Rian Johnson seems to forget this relationship. While Finn is still very much devoted to Rey, she is apparently replaced by the end of the film by a new love interest, Rose Tico. Meanwhile, Rey seems to forgive Ren very easily for torturing her and murdering her father figure Han Solo, and instead tries to redeem him out of implied romantic feelings for him. Though Rey ultimately abandons Ren when she sees he is irredeemable, a connection between them is entertained long enough for Reylo shippers to overtake the fanbase. Reylo sets a horrible example of relationships. Ren has done nothing but abuse Rey. He abducted her, forcefully probed her mind, attacked and wounded Finn, her only friend, and when Ren discovered a mutually non-consensual psychic connection between them, he used it to manipulate Rey into caring for him. One line in the film in particular stands out as something quoted straight from the mouths of many abusers. “You’re nothing,” Ren tells Rey, “but not to me” (The Last Jedi.) Those who romanticize this line do not understand that abusers in romantic relationships lead their partner to believe that no one loves them except their abuser; therefore, should the victim leave the relationship, they would have nowhere else to go. When Rey sees through his lies, she leaves him, and Ren, furious at losing a powerful asset, becomes bent on destroying her. Despite the fanbase’s illusions to the contrary, this is not example of a healthy relationship.

But not only does the Reylo ship set a bad example for those in relationships, it also erases Finn, a black male character. In The Force Awakens, Finn is second only to Rey in importance; in The Last Jedi, he is a side character, stepping back to allow Kylo Ren, a white villain, to take his place in the story as love interest and main protagonist. Perplexingly, the fanbase and Rian Johnson seem insistent that Rey and Finn be romantically paired with anyone but each other, hence Rose as a replacement for Rey. This demonstrates clear bias as Finn is written as a main character whose love interest is shown to be Rey. This is most explicitly demonstrated when Finn confesses to Rey that he lied to her and is actually a defected stormtrooper fleeing the First Order, and not a Resistance member fighting it. Despite Finn’s deception, Rey understands completely and pleads with him not to leave her. The scene is heartfelt and clearly romantic, and demonstrates that both characters have equally important arcs. This is a stark contrast to the sequel, where Finn’s feelings for Rey are portrayed as obsessive and Rey’s feelings for Finn are portrayed as nonexistent, until the very end when they share two brief scenes after being separated for the entire film. But not only is Reylo racist, it also sexist. Rey is little more than a pawn for Kylo Ren’s redemption, a plot device that, like all the others in the film such as the Canto Bight sequence, ultimately fails and renders itself meaningless. According to Bust, there are four tests that can determine good female representation:

The Bechdel test (two female characters converse about something other than a man.) The only two female characters to speak in the film, Leia and Holdo, discuss Poe Dameron, failing the test.

The Sexy Lamp test (if a woman can be replaced by an arbitrary object, such as a sexy lamp, she is written sexistly.) As the Scavenger’s Holocron observes, the film is so Kylo Ren-centric that Rey, the protagonist of the film and trilogy, could be removed with little revision.

The Mako Mori test (a character passes for getting their own arc that is not about supporting a man’s arc.) Spectacularly, every major female character in this film fails this test.

The Furiosa test, whose only requirement is that it causes (perceived) misogynists to boycott the film, is the only test the film passes, and it is not even the first Star Wars film to do so.

As observed by Hypable, when similar tests for female characters are applied to people of color, they also fail to pass, save for the inadequate Bechdel and Furiosa tests.

But The Last Jedi isn’t an intentionally sexist and racist film; it actually attempts to be progressive. However, its attempts to be progressive simply cause more problems. Vice Admiral Holdo is a character created to (unnecessarily) replace Leia Organa, the strong female character from the original trilogy. When Poe Dameron, the Resistance’s ace pilot, questions her strategy (which she needlessly keeps secret) and leads a mutiny against her leadership, Holdo is shown to be right and not Dameron. The message is clear: women should never be questioned by men. Never mind the fact that Holdo’s strategy led to several unnecessary deaths. Poe is changed from a competent commander into a reckless hothead to justify Holdo’s actions. In the film’s opening he sacrifices his entire squadron to take out one battleship. This is not even in character for Dameron, who never showed such abandon in his first appearance or the supplementary comics. Poe was portrayed as an experienced leader who cared for the lives of those under his command. In The Last Jedi, he is a young maverick with a Latin temper. This is racist to Poe’s character and a disgraceful portrayal female leadership. The problem is made worse because Leia, who showed exemplary female leadership throughout her appearances in the saga, is pushed aside, put into a coma to make way for her inferior replacement. Meanwhile, Rose Tico, Finn’s newfound friend, is constantly belittling him. She tasers him for deserting (a crime he cannot be guilty of because he’s not actually part of the Resistance.) She calls him cowardly and selfish for wanting to return to Rey (Scavenger’s Holocron.) The film’s novelization says she is “turned off by the weird traitor thing” (Fry,) which shouldn’t be “weird” at all, since Finn betrayed the fascist organization Rose hates, rather than having loyalty issues. In the same paragraph, she takes issue with his “bizzare crush on the friend of his” (Fry.) Not only is this abysmal treatment of Finn, it is a waste of Kelly Marie Tran’s talent that her character is written as jealously toxic and whose main purpose is to separate the female lead from the black lead as a romantic interest. The Last Jedi does more harm than good for progressive values, serving to legitimize the criticisms of mainstream progressivism.

The Last Jedi is an utter disaster of an installment in a great saga, but not only is it poorly written, it is so poorly written it is actually bigoted towards women and people of color, while tearing down men and rich white people to seem progressive. An offend-all piece of cinema, a deliberately divisive film such as The Last Jedi is inappropriate for our current political climate and for Star Wars. One essay is too short to describe in sufficient detail the faults in The Last Jedi and their devastating effects on society. We need to hold our art to a higher standard to avoid intentional or inadvertent racism, sexism, and poor writing. Classic stories such as Star Wars deserve more respect than a film like The Last Jedi gives it. Our stories are our culture, and if our stories are shoddy and offensive, what does that say about our society?

#good for you! #space fights #the last jedi critical #tlj critical #essay #submission