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hysterialevi · 3 years

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Hjarta | Chapter 16

Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

A WHILE LATER

TEARS OF YMIR

Sigurd trudged through the snow-veiled woods, wishing desperately that he could veer off this path the gods had constructed for him. His mind was trapped in a perpetual state of fear, and the thoughts racing through his head only seemed to grow louder with every step he took.

He could feel it in his heart that Ulfar spoke the truth. There was merit in the accusations he threw against Dag, and Sigurd had even seen the man’s treachery for himself. He made it quite clear that he wasn’t on their side with the way he manipulated the assault at Kjotve’s Fortress, and the prince could no longer ignore the reality that was standing right in front of him.

But even then, Sigurd’s gut twisted at the idea of causing any harm to Dag. His entire childhood was formed of memories between the two of them, and he still saw him as the same little boy he once loved all those years ago.

He remembered the days they’d spend running around in the wilderness, only to end up covered in mud by the time they returned home. He hadn’t forgotten the way Styrbjorn would scold them for their reckless behavior, and how they’d make the exact same mistakes immediately afterwards.

The joy they shared, the sorrows they experienced, the burdens they had to carry -- it all stayed with Sigurd to this very day. He loved Dag like a brother despite the conflicts between them, and the thought of banishing him from Midgard tore a hole inside his chest.

But he was a leader now. A future king. With Ulfar dead, Sigurd would have to step up and protect the people he left behind. His position as prince would no longer be a mere title, and he would have to do whatever it took to keep his clan safe.

Even if it meant making a sacrifice as great as this.

“We’re here.” Sigurd said bleakly, stopping in his tracks once the waterfall came into view. He took a deep breath and gazed at the dreary environment, unable to even recognize the nature surrounding him.

This place once served as a sanctuary for the prince. It used to be a safe haven where he could take refuge when the troubles of his world proved to be overwhelming, and he often found a sense of tranquility in its earthly embrace. It always seemed to breathe with the spirit of the gods, and part of Sigurd even believed they walked with him sometimes when he ventured down this path.

Today though, the forest was barren of any life. The tragedies of the war had burrowed themselves into its very marrow, and it almost felt as if it could sense what was about to happen. The air was leaden with a suffocating anchor of dread, and it only seemed to crush Sigurd more and more the further he progressed.

He didn’t want to kill Dag. Every fiber in his being was screaming at him to stop.

Part of even him was even considering simply exiling the man in order to avoid further bloodshed. Deep down though, he knew that wouldn’t be enough. He knew that Dag would most-likely run back into Kjotve’s arms once he broke free from the judgement of his clan, and cause their people a plethora of problems that they didn’t need.

It seemed like death was the only option here, and Sigurd hated himself for it.

“...Sigurd,” Dag said, approaching the man from behind. “Will you tell me what we’re doing now? Why have you brought us all the way out here? Is this about what happened between me and Ulfar?”

The prince kept his gaze on the view before him, leaving his hand close to his axe. His back was currently turned to the other man, and yet, he felt as if he could detect his every move.

“...Do you remember the day we met, Dag?” Sigurd asked. “All those years ago?”

The warrior noticed how his friend skirted the subject, but said nothing of it for now. “Of course. How could I forget? I was what, ten years old? Maybe younger? I had just given you a black eye during a training spar.”

Sigurd chuckled softly at the precious memory. “Indeed. And if I recall correctly, it wasn’t too long beforehand that I was boasting about how easily I’d be able to fell you. I was the king’s son, after all. Nothing could touch me.” The prince smirked. “...It seems that arrogance was my greatest enemy back then. The day I met you was the day I learned humility. It was the day I gained a brother.”

Dag leaned against a nearby tree, crossing his arms. “And do you still feel that way?”

The other man paused, his voice hardening with a cold edge. “...Yes. But I suspect that the sentiment is no longer mutual.”

Growing restless with anxiety, Sigurd finally decided to put this game to an end and shot an icy glare at his childhood friend, practically boring through his skull. He approached the older man and looked him in the eye, trying to keep his breath as steady as possible.

“...Dag,” he whispered, “you know how I feel about you. We may not share the same blood, but you are my family. No matter how distant we may grow, there will always be a link between us. And I will always see you as my brother. That’s why... I need you to tell me the truth.”

Sigurd took a few steps closer, barely shifting his gaze. “...Are you the traitor?”

Dag scoffed at the question and shook his head, reluctant to give a direct answer. “You can’t be serious. You actually believe in the nonsense Ulfar was spewing?”

“I believe his words held merit,” the prince persisted. “You can call it nonsense if you like, but that doesn’t change the fact that you stand as an accused man.”

The warrior stammered for a moment, taken aback by the preposterous notion. “What are you talking about, Sigurd? You were there! You saw what happened. I defeated Ulfar in honorable combat. I cleared my name. Isn’t that enough?”

“Enough for the Allfather perhaps, but not enough for me. Everything Ulfar said was true. The way you handled the assault nearly got all our people killed, and I know you well enough to know that you’re too smart to make such a grave mistake. You did it intentionally.”

Still, Dag remained in denial. “I don’t believe this. You would trust the word of a paranoid old man over someone you consider to be a brother?”

Sigurd raised his voice slightly, unable to hide his anger anymore. “I trust what I see! And over these past few weeks, I’ve seen you do nothing but traipse through the shadows like a thief in the night, hiding like coward whilst our men died on the battlefield. I saw you return from Kjotve’s Fortress without so much as a scratch on your armor, and I saw the apathy in your eyes when they fell on Thora’s corpse.”

The prince’s expression darkened with ire. “You claim you are innocent, but innocence always speaks for itself. I see no good reason why I should question Ulfar’s accusations, and I doubt you can give me one. So I’ll ask again--” he leaned in, “--are you the traitor?”

Dag rubbed the back of his neck and glanced at the waterfall, furrowing his brow in disbelief. It was evident that he had something to say, but the stone shackles of pride hindered his ability to come clean.

“How do you know Ulfar wasn’t trying to save his own skin by throwing me to the wolves? He was in a much more powerful position than I. He could’ve done anything he liked and gotten away with it!”

“What reason could Ulfar possibly have had to turn against Arngeir? You really think he would’ve been willing to endanger Thora’s life? Or Eivor’s? He saw them as his own children.”

“Who knows? All I’m saying is -- he was awfully quick to pass judgement on me. We had hardly set foot on Bjornheimr’s shores, and he was already prepared for a fight. The way I see it, Ulfar wanted to use me as a scapegoat. He was the jarl’s right-hand man, after all. He knew he could’ve said anything about me without raising suspicion. I mean, just look at how easy it was to fool you.”

Sigurd’s glare only sharpened at that. “You think I’ve been fooled, do you?”

“Am I wrong? I know you held Ulfar in high regard, but typically, the largest shadows are cast by those who stand the tallest. He may have been a good warrior, but that doesn’t mean--”

The prince shook his head in frustration. “--Enough, Dag! Enough with the lies. Enough with the deflection. Just give me a straight answer. I’m done running in circles with you.”

The other man fell silent, completely at a loss for words. “...You still don’t believe me, do you?”

Sigurd lowered his head in sorrow. “...I wish I could, Dag. Trust me. I wish I could. But if I’m going to keep this clan safe, I can’t allow anything to hinder my judgement. Not even when it concerns you.”

Dag let out a sigh and nodded in defeat, staring blankly at the ground. It was clear to him that his arguments were doing nothing in terms of swaying the prince’s mind, and he didn’t know what else he could say to divert the man’s skepticism.

“...I see.” He murmured, looking back up at Sigurd. His demeanor had completely shifted compared to when they first arrived at the waterfall, and a grim sense of treachery clung onto his shrewd face. “...Very well then, old friend. If that’s how you wish to do things.”

Dag pushed himself off the tree and straightened his posture, finally deciding to reveal the truth.

“...Indeed, your conviction is rightfully placed, Sigurd. I wasn’t sure how long I’d be able to keep up this facade, but I see no point in maintaining it any longer.”

The warrior paused for a brief moment, taking a deep breath.

“I was the one who warned Kjotve.” Dag confessed. “I was the one who assisted him when he ambushed Bjornheimr, and I was the one who told him to flee his fortress before our clans could arrive. I told him of this alliance.”

Sigurd’s heart instantly shattered upon hearing the confession, and his jaw clenched in rage as a spark of betrayal flared inside his chest. He knew his suspicions had to be correct, but even then, nothing could’ve prepared him for the immense disappointment he’d receive from a revelation such as this.

The prince wandered away from Dag in shock and began pacing along the waterfall’s edge, uncertain of how to respond.

“...And why exactly... did you do it?” Sigurd questioned, his tone alarmingly quiet. “What led you to commit such... foolish treason?”

“I did it for the good of our clan.” Dag answered monotonously. “I did it to protect us.”

The other man threw a puzzled glance at him, bewildered by his justification.

“To protect us?” Sigurd gestured to the distant village, storming towards the warrior. “Bjornheimr lies in a bed of its own ashes thanks to you! The jarl’s daughter has been murdered, and you have the nerve to act as if this was an act of heroism? I grow tired of your deception, Dag. Just tell me the truth. What is the real reason you did this?”

The traitor’s nose crinkled in envy, and a newfound sense of contempt twisted his expression. He was behaving in a manner that Sigurd had never seen before, and yet, the prince felt as if he had known this side of Dag for his entire life.

“We don’t need the Bear Clan,” Dag said. “All they’ve done is weaken us. They’ve even weakened you. Especially that boy.”

Sigurd cocked a brow. “Boy? What boy? You mean Eivor?”

“Yes. He’s turned you soft, Sigurd. Everyone can see it. Before we came to this forsaken village, you were a warrior. A leader. A man worthy of holding a crown. You led raids on our enemies, and you crushed anyone who dared threaten our people. You were a king in everything but name. But now? You’ve just become another pawn.”

“What are you talking about, Dag? How have I become a pawn?”

The traitor laughed. “Are you joking? I see the way you look at Eivor. That man has you wrapped around his finger. He’s distracting you from the war, and you’re allowing it to happen.”

The prince’s face was plastered with a look of dread. “You know about me and Eivor...? Who told you?”

Dag waved a dismissive hand. “No one needed to tell me. It’s as clear as day. You may be wed to Randvi, but we all know where your loyalties really lie. You’re only fighting this war for one reason, and that’s so you can take Eivor to bed while the rest of us do the hard work.”

Sigurd’s eyes snapped onto Dag with an iron grip, and his voice dropped to a dangerously low level.

“Watch... your tongue, snake.”

The other man chuckled. “The truth is painful, isn’t it? Nothing stings quite like the bite of a harsh reality you can’t accept. But please, by all means -- continue to ignore it. Ignore it like you ignore everything else, and let your kingdom crumble for your own selfish needs.”

Sigurd brushed off the traitor’s taunts and got straight to the point, eager to put this to rest. “So you’re a puppet for jealousy now? Is that it? You did all this... just because you envied Eivor’s position?”

A scoff escaped Dag’s lips. “Pfft. I want nothing that man has. Like I said before, I did this for the good of our people. Whether or not you choose to see it that way doesn’t change the fact that it’s true. The gods know this too.”

“The gods spit on oath-breakers like you! Odin has no need for men such as yourself in his company, and neither do I.”

“Then deliver your justice, my lord. Strike me down with the judgement that you deemed so righteous you had to hide it away from prying eyes. The people of Bjornheimr may not be able to see you here, but the Allfather does. And he will remember.”

Sigurd turned away from Dag and rested a firm hand on his axe, using every bit of his strength to stifle the tears that threatened to spill. He wanted nothing more than to scream at the gods for putting him in such an impossible situation, and he could already feel himself breaking down from what he was about to do.

But he had to keep his promise. He had to. Although no longer in this realm, Ulfar was depending on him to protect their clans, and Sigurd didn’t have the heart to deny the man his dying wish.

...But he loved Dag. In spite of all of his crimes, the prince still saw the traitor as the same boy he grew up with, and his memories of their time together only seemed to be resurfacing with every second he spent delaying the inevitable.

What was he going to do when the man was dead? Sigurd may have despised Dag for going behind his back, but a piece of his soul remained bound to him nonetheless. There was a link between them that couldn’t be broken, and the prince felt as if he was about to sever one of his own limbs.

A part of him would undoubtedly go with Dag once the man departed from this realm, and Sigurd couldn’t imagine himself ever getting it back.

He just prayed he would be able to forgive himself someday.

“You... you were my brother, Dag.” Sigurd said, his spirit collapsing with every word. “I loved you. I did. You turned my childhood into something that I’ll always hold dear. I’ll never forget the time we spent together, or the joy I’d feel when you were around. Those memories are something that no one will ever be able to take from me.” He tightened his grip on the axe. “But I can’t let you walk free from this. I can’t let you hurt my clan anymore. I... I have to keep my promise. I’m sorry.”

Yanking the weapon out of its sheathe, the prince lunged at Dag without saying another word and buried the axe in his chest, immediately causing the man to stiffen in his clutch. The two of them toppled over onto the snow after a single strike, and within seconds, the traitor was already gasping for air.

He writhed in Sigurd’s embrace like a worm on a hook and desperately tried to pry the blade away from his heart, but to no avail. The other man simply held him down and forcibly kept the axe in place, pushing it deeper and deeper into his torso as tears began streaming down his cheeks.

Sigurd couldn’t believe what he was doing. As a child, he always pictured himself leading their clan into a glorious victory that would forever grace the lips of bards across the kingdom, and spread into endless sagas for generations to come. He thought his role in the war would be one of grandeur just like in the tales his father often told him, and he believed his path to Valhalla would be laden with silver and gold.

But now that he was actually here... he was finally realizing just how torturous the nature of war really was. He wept at the sight of Dag’s life vanishing from his eyes, and his stomach churned at the feeling of the man’s blood staining his hands.

There was also the fact that the traitor died without an axe in his grip. He left it with Ulfar back in Bjornheimr, and thus, paved the way straight to Hel’s gates. His soul would forever evade the magnificence of the Corpse Hall, and a part of Sigurd crumbled at the thought of never being able to reunite with his friend again.

Dag was gone for good... and it was all his fault.

Letting go of the axe’s hilt, Sigurd allowed himself to relax and climbed off of Dag’s body, taking a seat beside him as a series of breaths fled from his lungs.

...He did it. He actually did it.

The traitor had been removed from their midst, and their clans would be able to proceed without worrying about betrayal. Kjotve would no longer have an ally inside their walls, and Gorm would give them the last step they needed before taking him down at last.

Sigurd supposed he should’ve been relieved now that things were finally in their favor, but all he felt was emptiness.

His closest friend lay defeated under the blade of his own axe, and his world remained shaken by the multiple losses it had just suffered. He experienced no pleasure in the face of this so-called victory, and the only thing he had left to hope for was the sight of Kjotve’s head.

He just wanted this war to end. He wanted the constant turmoil of these never-ending battles to become a thing of the past, and he wanted to cleanse the seas of the blood that stained their shores.

Sigurd dreamed of a future where people wouldn’t have to share his clan’s pain, but deep down, he feared it would never become a reality.

The war had already lasted for a couple decades, after all. He saw no reason why the gods would allow it to end anytime soon.

“Sigurd?” Someone said abruptly, dragging the prince back to his senses.

The man glanced upward from where he sat and gazed in the distance, only to find Eivor watching him from afar.

“Eivor...?” Sigurd whispered, quickly wiping his face dry. “What... what are you doing here?”

The blonde viking stepped out from the trees and approached his lover, careful not to distress him even further.

“I saw you leave with Dag earlier,” Eivor answered softly, still drained from the shock of Ulfar’s loss. “The two of you were gone for a while, so I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

He paused for a second, allowing his eyes to wander towards Dag. “...You really killed him.”

The older man stared helplessly at the sky, peering into the canopy of branches swaying above him.

“...Yes. I did.” He said, his voice trembling slightly. “I had to.”

Sighing morosely, Eivor pushed his way through the mounds of snow and walked over to Sigurd, crouching down in front of him. He comforted the distraught prince by gently caressing his cheek, and flicked away some stray tears with a simple swipe of the thumb. Afterwards, the young man reached over to the axe protruding from Dag’s chest and carefully removed it, wiping it clean before laying it in Sigurd’s lap.

“You did the right thing. I know it wasn’t easy, but our clan will sleep better at night thanks to you.”

Sigurd loosely met Eivor’s gaze, entirely devoid of life. “...I feel like a monster. Dag was... he was my brother. I know everyone else saw him as a traitor, but to me, he was always that little boy I met in Fornburg.” His expression sank with grief. “...That little boy is dead now because of me. I killed him.”

Eivor held the prince’s face in his hands. “No, Sigurd. You didn’t kill that boy. Dag did. A long time ago.”

The redheaded warrior offered nothing but silence in response, causing Eivor to return to his feet.

“Come, my love.” He beckoned, reaching an arm out. “We should return to the village.”

Sigurd remained motionless on the ground, simply looking over at Dag’s body.

“Wait. Could we... bring him back with us? I’m aware of Dag’s crimes, but even then, I’d like to give him a proper burial.”

“Of course,” Eivor assured. “Many in the clan will question his presence at the funeral, but I’ll send someone to retrieve him once we return. Don’t worry. We won’t leave him behind.”

Sigurd propped himself up on one knee and grabbed the other man’s arm, rising from the snow. “Thank you, Eivor.”

The Wolf-Kissed guided his lover away from the waterfall and called for his horse, leading the prince back home.

“Come on.” He whispered lovingly. “Let’s get you out of here.”

#hjarta #assassin's creed valhalla #ac valhalla #eivor wolfsmal #eivor wolfkissed #eivor varinsson #male eivor #sigurd styrbjornson #sigurd x male eivor #ac valhalla fanfic

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moonlit-imagines · 4 years

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Don’t You Dare

Loki Laufeyson x nibling!reader

warnings: death mention, my iconic infliction of pain on my lovely readers

a/n: no hate on loki i just saw a tiktok that made me go “oh dam thats kinda wicked” dont let this flop its 4:19am

prompt: this tiktok - in an AU where asgard never fell, instead thor gave his life to defeat his sister, and y/n took the throne so that loki couldn’t endanger their kingdom anymore. loki felt a sense of guilt after his father and brother perished, y/n found someone to blame

You’ll admit that these past few weeks...they didn’t go as planned. Your father just wanted to protect Asgard, but that cost him his life. Now you were left to the throne, completely unguided and utterly alone. Not even the Warriors Three were here to help. Too many had perished, maybe your family was cursed.

The only relative that remained was Loki, your uncle. Loki, the reason that you were orphaned and forced to rule over a kingdom that needed tending to since he didn’t feel like doing it himself. The audacity that he had to remain on Asgard was astounding, but he had been avoiding you at all costs while you began to rehabilitate the country.

“What shall we do about the wreckage?” An advisor had questioned, as if you didn’t have a million other things to be worried about. Of course it was a priority, but there was so much to discuss that any question was just a bit irritating.

“Rally up volunteers to clean the debris, some of it may be salvageable.” You walked along the palace halls with an entourage of concerned beings, they had so many important questions that you needed to answer, but you hadn’t even properly memorialized your father yet. He was all you could think about. “Make sure that all of out citizens have shelter while their homes are being rebuilt. We can spare some rooms here in the palace.” You came to a halt and pinched the bridge of your nose. “Will that be all for now?”

“Yes, your highness.” They answered and scattered away to tend to their business. This kingdom was already in ruins before Hela arrived. Thank you, Uncle.

These past few years...past few weeks had been quite difficult, would there every be a return to normalcy? Doubtful. But you had to be strong for your people, that was what they needed. A ruler that had the people’s best interest in mind. One who bore all of the hardships so that they could live happily.

You paced further down the halls to check for damages and anything out of the ordinary. You were a bit paranoid that there could be another attack, but it seemed like the trouble may have been over. Never hurts to double check. As you made your rounds, you passed your father’s former room, which was filled with memories that you would hold onto for lifetimes.

“I failed you, father. And for that, I’m sorry.” You tried to tell him, but he was long gone. You lingered on for a moment more and decided it was time to continue your surveyal. It was depressing walking these halls, every memory included someone who was no longer with you. Why must you continue to ponder the past? Why was that?

“Your majesty,” you heard a woman call from behind you, turning to find the last known Valkyrie approaching, “you have a visitor.”

“Do I?” You asked, not thinking twice about it. There was so much on your mind, you were foolish to forget the likes of Uncle Loki.

“I’ll leave you to it.” She called upon Loki to enter your presence and quickly vacated, not wanting to deal with any more drama of the throne. You stood silently and waited for him to state his business.

“Y/N...” He started, not knowing where to go after that part. “Please don’t hate me.” Your uncle begged, which only made your blood curdle. This was no time for a need of approval, this was just inappropriate.

“Uncle, you’re a disgrace.” You growled, which may have been a bit harsh, but you chose your words without a second thought. “I have other matters to tend to.”

“Please, y/n, don’t do this.” He went on. “We are all the other has left, I cannot take that for granted.” Loki insisted on following you about the palace, nearly in tears. You’d seen this act before, though, when he used it on your father time and time again. “Let me help you, y/n! The throne is a burden, you don’t have to do it alone!”

“That’s enough!” You snapped at your uncle, silencing him immediately. “You created this mess and I’m cleaning it up my way. I do not need your help like the others did. I know better than to depend on the likes of the God of Mischief!” Your words were like daggers to Loki, who believed everything that you’d just said. He stuttered a bit, trying to carefully make out another sentence.

“I-I’m...I’m trying, y/n.” Loki balled his fists, trying to truly keep it together for his nibling who was in true pain, pain that he actually blamed himself for. “I take no joy in my actions. They were reckless and immature.” He admitted, wincing at the responsibility he had to take. You could take after your father and forgive him, maybe give him another chance...or you could teach him a lesson once and for all.

“Uncle Loki,” you sighed, “I am not my father. Nor am I Odin or Freya. I am y/n and I do not take responsibility for you.” Loki’s lips parted slightly as his jaw dropped in disappointment. “You may be my uncle, but you are no longer apart of the royal family of Asgard. I cannot take any more risks on behalf of my people.”

“What?!” Loki gasped, hurt by this malfeasance. “You cannot do this, y/n! I’m the rightful ruler of Asgard!” He argued along the palace halls.

“That’s all you’ve ever cared about, Loki! You only crave power, but you refuse to acknowledge the responsibility that power comes with!” You were brutally honest, only causing more damage to Loki’s bruised ego. You hadn’t even noticed the tears that streamed down your face, showing your uncle your true feelings alongside your little speech. “Look out there, Loki! That was all you!” You pointed out the threshold of the palace to view the severely damaged kingdom he so badly wanted to rule. “Odin was an awful father, but he was the ruler that Asgard needed and you...” You shuddered out of pure rage. “You’re selfish! And it has been your downfall!”

“How dare you talk like that to me!” Loki shouted back, further solidifying your negative emotions, he would be regretting this shortly. “You’re out of your mind, little one. You can’t rule this kingdom alone, you’ll ruin it far worse than I ever could.” By this time, tears had stopped falling and you were left in a stone cold rage. You no longer needed to hear these insults.

“Enough!” You screamed in his face, succeeding in shutting him up. “Loki Odinson, you are hereby banished from the Kingdom of Asgard!” You declared, shocking your uncle greatly as he took a step back, trying to decipher if you were serious or not, but you weren’t a fan on mischief or trickery. “Leave at once, I will not ask a second time.”

“You must be joking, my nibling.” He tried to laugh it off, but you weren’t a bit amused.

“Don’t count on it, Uncle. Now go.” You stared him dead in the eyes and saw the heartbreak im his face. He finally accepted your instructions and nodded in defeat, leaving at once. He trudged in the opposite direction and you carefully watched as he left, but he took a slight pause before officially exiting.

“Y/N, little one, do know that I love you...and I loved your father, as well.” He confessed, then left you to yourself. Your lip trembled as you fought back the feeling of sorrow that flooded over you, the last of your family had departed, now you were officially alone. The struggle to contain your sobs finally ceased once your emotions got the best of you, so you collapsed onto the floor, sobbing as the weight of your world took over. The throne of Asgard guaranteed disappointment and agony, even as early as now.

This would only be the beginning on your path as a ruler. Something tells me that there is much more to come.

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @lokihiddles // @frostedgiant // @emygirl // @lotsoffandomrecs // @johnmurphyisbisexual // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @purpleskiesstorm //

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ninja-go-to-therapy · 4 years

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Stalking, Take 2

Summary: Cole can’t help but feel like he’s being watched. But, such is the life of a celebrity ninja. He thinks.

Trigger Warnings: stalking, obsessive behavior, planned kidnapping, mentioned pet whump, mentioned stockholm syndrome

1190 words

Koshiro’s father had once told him that when you first saw someone meant to be a pet, your pet, you would know. Koshiro hadn’t quite known what to think about it at the time, but had stored it away in his mind for years.

Until now.

As he was looking at the earth ninja, he just knew. Looking into those eyes, those beautiful, perfect eyes, he could practically see it now. He was meant to be Koshiro’s pet.

If only he wasn’t surrounded by people who had such power. It wouldn’t stop him, of course, but it would make it all so much more difficult. But he would have him. Oh, he would have him.

The soon-to-be former earth ninja was close to perfect already. Koshiro could hardly wait to see what he would be like once he truly and completely belonged to him. Oh, how gorgeous he would look with a pretty little collar around his neck…

Koshiro couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he thought of it. He’d always imagined what it would be like to have a pet, but it had always been more of an abstract idea. But now, knowing who his pet would be? He was practically shaking with excitement.

He could see it so clearly in his mind: his pet, fully trained, curled up in Koshiro’s lap by the fire while Koshiro pet him. He would make a small, happy noise, knowing he wouldn’t be allowed to talk by then, but wanting to express his joy nonetheless.

Yes, his future pet would be so much happier in Koshiro’s loving care.

Sure, at first he would no doubt fight and refuse and be very, very bad, but he wasn’t logical enough to see what his life was supposed to be. He would think, at the beginning, that the abuse he suffered every day at the hands of the world was good for him, desirable, even.

He was thrown into life-endangering battles more often than not, every day getting beaten and bruised. It was a noble thing to do, Koshiro supposed, but children shouldn’t have been sticking their noses into such business, and a pet certainly shouldn’t have been. And yet he was, and his acquaintances had the audacity to treat him like they treated the rest of them.

Someone as beautiful, as perfect, as that deserved to be all but worshipped if he couldn’t be the one doing the worshipping. Yes, he would be much happier with Koshiro.

Koshiro would happily spend a thousand years in hell if it meant just one day with his future pet.

He would do whatever it took to tame him, to claim him, to make him his.

“Mine,” Koshiro whispered, loving the way the word felt on his tongue. “He’ll be mine.”

———

Cole wasn’t one to be paranoid. He was observant, he liked to think, but not to the point of giving himself ridiculous anxiety over nothing. Until recently.

It was just… a feeling. He couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but something was making him uneasy. He had no idea what it was, and that almost made it worse.

Everything was… normal, currently. They had no big villains to face, no horrible apocalypses to stop, and no people to save (unless the few side jobs they took up counted as saving people, but it wasn’t much, just helping out with minor emergencies, really). Still, Cole couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

In public, he felt like he was being… watched. It shouldn’t have been concerning, because, being a bit of a celebrity, he was always being watched. There were fans everywhere, no matter where he went, and he and the others were used to it by now.

So why was he so bothered?

There was no reason to be. He was definitely being watched, and sure, if he were a normal civilian, that would have been creepy. But he wasn’t! So why was he so unsettled?

It was probably just his social anxiety seeping through. He’d managed to get a hold on it, but stuff like that never fully went away. That’s all it was, right?

Yeah, definitely. There was no reason to be worried. No reason at all.

———

Koshiro wasn’t particularly thrilled to be in the city this weekend. Day of the Departed meant everyone was out and about, and he hated large crowds. The sidewalks were flooded and the traffic was awful, and he wanted to crawl out of his skin.

He’d always seen the holiday as way over-commercialized, anyway. There was no need for all the pointless things stores tried to sell. Day of the Departed was supposed to be about honoring your ancestors, not about whatever stores were saying to sell things these days. Sure, there was nothing wrong with a little candy, but everything else? Stores may have just been screaming that they didn’t really care. And somehow, people just ate it right up.

This was why life was so much better in more rural areas, and he was very much looking forward to getting home.

From somewhere up ahead, a commotion stirred up. People were gasping, and a gap was being made; was someone seriously trying to go against the flow of people-traffic right now? Could they not at least get on the outer edges of the sidewalk, rather than cut through the very middle?

Something WHAMMED into him and he fell, quite painfully, to the ground. For the First Master’s sake, did people even try to watch where they were going anymore?

“I am so sorry!”

Wait.

“Are you okay?”

That voice.

He knew that voice.

He’d know that voice anywhere.

“Great going, you killed him!”

Ugh, he’d know that voice anywhere, too.

He opened his eyes, squinting against the harshness of the sun and ignoring whatever was being said about “knocking someone over won’t kill them, Jay.”

And there, above him, the sun shining over him and presenting him like the angel he was, was Cole. His Cole.

And, unfortunately, the other brats.

“Oh, good, you’re okay.” Cole extended his hand, and Koshiro took it. His smile was soft, his eyes were as radiant as the glow the sun was giving him, and Koshiro could have melted on the spot. Because finally, finally, he got to see him, to really see him, face to face. And this might have been the closest he’d ever been to speechless.

“I’m alright,” he said, dusting himself off and forcing those thoughts back. He wanted so badly to do anything more, but if he didn’t present himself as perfectly generic, it could throw a huge wrench in his plans. “I really have to get going.”

“Yeah, us too,” Kai said, followed by Cole’s polite call of,

“Stay safe!”

Fuck. That beautiful voice.

He stared after him long after he’d gone. His mind was running wild with ideas and images. That boy was going to be his, no matter how long it took. The process of getting him would be hard, and without a doubt, training him would be even harder. But he would learn to love him.

He would learn.

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ellaintrigue · 3 years

Text

Valid paranoia

**Disclaimer: I am not stereotyping or putting down autistic people or those with other mental conditions at all, I am only giving examples of some struggles I’ve had with certain individuals.**

I’m not going to pretend that I’m totally stable or better than anyone else, but I have had this blog for 10 years now with almost 900 followers. Because it is a public display of my writings and photography, I cannot control who views it. And unfortunately I have been stalked.

The first instance was in real life with cops and courts involved and I have never been able to hide my blog from that person for the aforementioned reasons. So that is reason enough for paranoia, but then there’s these people online that have repeatedly messaged me on dating sites, including one guy that saw me in person and confronted me. My best friends have said “why though, you’re not that great?” and I am NOT offended by them saying that because it’s true. I’m not a celebrity I’m an average hick with a rather grubby history. But another friend I had said it’s because I’m “confident” and then one of the digital stalkers said my “confidence” made him obsessed with me. His obsession going far beyond demanding dates on every new profile he makes but also threats of physical harm and calling me a c*nt.

So, yes, I am a ball of arrogance (confidence) but no means no and these people fixate on others largely due to mental illness it seems. Throughout life I have had unpleasant run-ins with people diagnosed with bipolar disorder for instance. One coworker would want to hug you one day and the next she would glare at you with hate for no reason. It’s scary. And I would never judge anyone for being mentally ill but when you become predatory and violent I will judge your actions.

A huge part of the problem is people with serious mental disorders refuse to take meds and accept their behavior as normal to them or being “okay.” This ranges from energetic mania where they obsessively do art or whatnot to smashing their car into a wall, no exaggeration. I had a neighbor that did that due to some issue he had. The guy babbled really really fast and eventually ended up hospitalized. It’s sad. Again, I got my own head shit, but if I started to do reckless things and endanger myself and others, that’s where the line is drawn.

Anyway, most of these people have made multiple new profiles to harass me on dating sites, and yes, my blog here. That is why I rarely respond to private messages, I’m cautious of people making too many attention-seeking comments, and blogs with no image of the user creep me out. On top of the fact that I want nothing to do with these predators, any form of attention gratifies them, even threatening to call the police. That is why I am paranoid. This morning I just blocked the 2nd account of a person pretending to be Morgan Wallen. I think I mentioned being a fan of his music a while back, before he got in trouble for saying the N-word which I obviously do not condone. I think I last mentioned that artist last year? So last week I get added by a fan blog based around him and the person messaged me, saying they were him. I said “okay, sure, send me a selfie holding the peace sign” and he said he was too good for that. I laughed and blocked him (or her). Today, same shit.

People that obsess with celebrities or impersonate them have mental problems obviously, so is this some random that just seeks attention, or one of the creepos I’ve blocked dozens of times? The fact that it’s based on Morgan Wallen who is currently being boycotted makes me think it was designed for me, but if others are being added by “Morgan Wallen Official” or whatever, please report and block.

It’s not just manic disorders, or whatever you want to label them, but I’ve struggled with the socially inept (stunted upbringings?) and those with autism. The last autistic person I was around worked, drove, and appeared mostly normal but would break down into a humming, rocking, crying, and yelling mess in a split second. Like are you okay? Are you going to calm down? Or are you going to smack me and not even know you’re doing it? :(

I was friends with a guy online for years; all of my online friends are platonic unless otherwise mentioned (such as an ex). He had seemingly mild autism and worked, drank, and paid his bills. I opened up to him about my life and valued our friendship but one night I lost some meds, they had rolled under my bed. I freaked out because you can’t easily replace prescriptions, especially since I was paying out of pocket at the time. I told him I was freaked the fuck out and he said “I love you.”

Well that freaked me out even more, but I just said I did not share those feelings, sorry. I tried to put that aside but things felt creepy after that because I think I was one of his only friends despite being an online person he’d never met.

Shortly after that I posted on my FaceBook page that it was my birthday, was some 18 year old going to eat my ass out? On my private FB I often post crude things because it’s people I know that get my sense of humor. Sadly on my blog here and other formats I can’t make sexual jokes or men assume I’ll sleep with anybody (yay for shaming women for their sexuality). The autistic guy messaged me later saying “I’d eat your ass out.” I told him I was through and blocked him on all formats. He had already started being too attentive and that comment was the end for me. That shit literally makes me cringe. WHEN SOMEONE DOESN’T WANT YOU, ACCEPT IT.

Since then, which was like 3 years ago, he’s messaged me on a dating site and then another place where he said “I know you hate me” and asked me to talk. I don’t hate him, I think a better word would be “fear.” I think he may stalk my blog here as well, but like I said, boundaries have to be drawn, we can’t just feel sorry for someone because they have a mental condition. I have the right to feel uncomfortable around someone and I have the right to cut them off.

Stay safe my people.

#Stalking #Safety #Autism #Mental health #Self care #Stalker #Boundaries #Creepy

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terror-billie · 4 years

Text

House of Leaves Thoughts

First: the title refers to the book pages (leaves) and also the quote about Earth being a "house of leaves about to be hit by a gust of wind"… so, basically, something that is fragile enough to be destroyed by an oncoming force.

I'm most confident in my interpretation of the core theme: House of Leaves is about family. Family estrangement, family breakdown, repairing family bonds, the bonds of parents and children, the bonds of siblings. Family members hurting each other, and overcoming – or not overcoming – that hurt.

The primary focus is on the complicated and often negative impacts of fathers on characters' lives as well as the complexity of sibling relationships. Likewise, the house creates a physical space and backdrop against which to wrestle against one's demons. The nature of the house is definitely one of reflection, specifically of echo, one of the prominent symbols. And the house and minotaur both seem very involved in redemption or punishment relating to sins against the family. With the title, it could mean that a family is a fragile thing that could be blown apart at any moment.

Let's look at the fathers:

Johnny's father. Painted as positive and even a savior. A loving father. Absent but due to no fault of his own. By all accounts a loving husband but prioritized the well-being of his son above all. Died tragically.

Johnny's stepfather, the marine. Abusive. Disfigures Johnny.

Navidson. Loves his children and means well, but frequently prioritizes adventure over their well-being. Initially estranged from Tom until the house brings them together, but still continues to endanger his children by living in the house . Ultimately chooses love and family in the end and in doing so is finally redeemed and freed. (Also worth noting that Tom and Navidson had issues stemming from their own poor upbringing by their own parents, so there's definitely some nods to intergenerational trauma and cycles of toxicity)

Zampanò. Little information is given, but he indicates that he was a poor/absent father. He attempts to remove the minotaur from the manuscript entirely, but Johnny adds it back. Killed (?) by the minotaur (?). May have written the manuscript as a labyrinth to contain the minotaur. His emotional connection to his analysis of the minotaur myth is obvious.

Tom. Not a father, but a positive adult male role model in the house. Spends time with the children and prioritizes their safety, ultimately being responsible for Daisy being saved as he hands her out to Navidson. It is his sacrifice that wakes Navidson up to his failures, as a father and a brother. And yet, his sacrifice is confusing because it's the one time that the house punishes a "good father." Maybe it's not a punishment after all, though. If we think about Navidson's well dream, that bad people drown forever in the well but good people disappear and go to a better place, that might be what happened to Tom. Maybe he went to heaven, or maybe he went to the Real World… and is Zampanò. (I guessed early on that Zampanò was Tom, became even more sure upon noting the use of "me" in the text referring to Tom on page 320, but it doesn't really square with the characterization of Tom as a good father because Zampanò is a poor father and is punished by the minotaur)

Let's take a look at the mothers as well:

Pelafina, Johnny's mother. Duality, good and bad. A source of pain, abuse, disfigurement, trauma, overbearing in her unloading on him in her letters. Loves her son tremendously, encourages him, adores him, wishes she could protect him. Absent but not of her own doing. Suffers from psychotic mental illness such as paranoid schizophrenia, and/or some kind of dementia, it's not enough to diagnose what but she often hallucinates, misremembers, or otherwise errs in her perception of reality, to an extent that is deliberately left up to interpretation. The inheritance of her illness alongside trauma shape Johnny and how he presents himself to us the reader. She may have had a child who lived a very short time. (Some people think this is Johnny, but I'm thinking it's a younger sibling, the grief over the loss of which led to her attempted murder of Johnny… if that even happened, but it's not clear if it did. Considering how frequently it is referenced, and how Johnny's positive version of events comes on the heels of him making up a different nice story for the reader, I'm inclined to think it is true.) Considering that Johnny is notably without a sibling in comparison to Navidson and Karen, having a missing sibling would also make sense. On the other hand, the deformity of the infant mirrors the deformity of Johnny and the minotaur, but I'll expand on that in a bit.

Karen. Prioritizes her children's safety over adventure. Emotionally mercurial as a life partner but more stable as a mother. But largely at a surface level, she doesn't really know what her children are suffering.

As a note on both characters: women suffering rape/csa/incest is an occasional motif. While Karen brushes off the suppositions about what happened to her and her estranged sister as children as her source of trauma, no alternate interpretation is given, and the inclusion of rape/csa/incest as a motif indicates that her past trauma reverberates through the text.

On the topic of Johnny… he comes across most as Danielewski's "self" character, though I don't want to assume too much. Navidson could be equally or moreso his self-insert, or maybe Danielewski really doesn't have one. It's overly simplistic to assume that any one character is closest to the author when, in a well-crafted work, all characters have some piece of the author. But specifically what I see in Johnny is the struggle with seeing himself as a monster.

I don't want to focus too much on the author or make assumptions about what is or is not autobiographical, but it's not terribly surprising to me that the author has explicitly stated that his first book (Redwood) was written to make sense of his very complicated feelings toward his father (who raged about it and insulted him for it and almost made him quit writing forever), and his sister has been a source of strength for him in dealing with that (she salvaged the draft of Redwood after Danielewski destroyed it upon being rejected by his father).

Johnny has a father he idealizes, a stepfather he despises, and a mother about whom he has complicated feelings and tries to not think about too much. Blue, Red, Purple. Johnny's focus on his chipped tooth – a result of a savage beating by his stepfather that almost killed him, in a remote dark shack – and his scarred arms – a result of his mother's accidental (?) spilling of oil on him – fit neatly with Zampanò's characterization of the minotaur as a son who was reviled as a monster because of his deformity. The text explicitly has Johnny imagine himself as the minotaur multiple times. The minotaur-monster-self is how he channels his fury and rage. What's interesting, though, is that initially he sees the minotaur as a separate being that has put him in danger, and in their first encounter, he vividly experiences the time that his mother tried to strangle him – the incontinence, the swipes left on the back of his neck. Pelafina is not the minotaur overall, it doesn't fit with the abandoned/wronged son motif, but something of the fear in the darkness was her… maybe, along with Karen's intense fear of darkness, the darkness simply represents childhood trauma.

It's hard to pin down because there is a justice of the darkness that punishes those who harm children, but the darkness itself also harms Chad and Daisy.

There's also the roar. The roar, some assume, is the minotaur, the monster. Some assume it's the house. But I see a definite connection between it and the roar of love that Johnny remembers when his father saved him from his mother's attempt on his life. He doesn't remember the incident but at a primal level he remembers this roar, this roar of love and life from his father.

This is why I think Pelafina's attempt on Johnny's life came while Johnny's father was still alive, along with the fact that Johnny's father flew her to Whalestoe in his plane before he lost his pilot's license and died trying to make money as a single father. Not sure if this fits the timeline, as it's often interpreted that the attempted infanticide occurred after Johnny's father was dead.

Johnny and Pelafina both forget things that happened. Pelafina forgets Johnny's visits. This is why I think Thumper's real name is Ashley, that she did call him and that's why she thought it was funny that he said she hadn't called. Not sure if that all lines up though. It was honestly kind of hard to keep straight all the women in Johnny's life.

The house, as briefly mentioned, primarily functions in a reflective manner. Based on what Johnny muses about the true terror, and Navidson's and Holloway's experiences, and even Tom's, we can see that whatever the house is, it tests people on their true self. It strips away the things that let them keep living with illusions, by literally shrouding them in darkness until all they can see is their own true self.

Holloway desperately repeats surface-level facts about himself to keep himself together, and that doesn't work, because we are not a collection of facts. Tom uses humor, which is more effective, but ultimately creates a mask to protect vulnerability and doesn't allow ones true self to be fully revealed – perhaps this is why the house consumes him. Navidson allows the darkness to strip away everything but comes through unscathed after facing his true self and passing through the crucible; Karen, too, was able to face truth and come through, though not in the way Navidson did.

Johnny wrestles with this for the entire novel, for he has created an entire maze of lies built up around him to protect himself. He obscures – sometimes deliberately, sometimes not – which stories or memories are real and fake, the details of what happened. He is terrified to face his true self. We don't really know if he passes through the crucible or not.

To go back to Danielewski for a moment, I think that based on what he said about his writing during his father's cancer diagnosis, and his subsequent loss, he learned a lot about himself when dealing with his grief. The truth is, learning about yourself is difficult, and you're forced to do it most often when you're already going through difficult circumstances. It's frightening. Life gives us so many tools to build walls and ignore the truths we'd rather not face.

But ultimately life – god, the House, the Dark, the Nothing, whatever it is – will force us to face what we built walls around: our true selves.

On the topic of the house, there are several clues that it is Yggdrasil:

· The house's deepest materials are older than the solar system

· The house is God

· Yggdrasil is an Ash Tree

· Yggdrasil has a maze of roots that are the world

· Trees have leaves and this is House of Leaves

While I'm not big on interpretations that everything was made up by one character, I can appreciate interpretation that the House is a creation within the recursive ouroboros in which Zampanò may have created it and the world by dreaming it up and within its pages, Navidson reading it even as he's experiencing it, etc etc etc. Not that everything is one person's fever dream, but that somebody actually created alternate universes by writing them down.

#house of leaves #hol #meta #Mark Z. Danielewski #whalestoe letters

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feastofcadavers · 4 years

Text

For such a stuttery one, Caramel's tears flowed smoothly down his face as he kept his embrace tight on Lemon. Mint and Aloe kept their distance, the violinist smiling at the two's comforting embrace. This was it- this was the hope he needed to keep him moving forward.

It was difficult to make out the words that the tortured soul was choking out through his sobbing mouth, but Lemon seemed to understand well enough. He murmured and cooed, holding the poor one close for as long as nessesary. Or- at least- as long as Aloe would permit.

"I understand the need for sentimental moments," they interjected, pulling Co closer to themself as they spoke, "but we are in danger now that you are both free from the captivity brought upon you. If Roguefort were to find you both out and about in this form, no doubt they would attempt to smite all of us."

Lemon growled, but gave in and unwrapped himself from the shorter individual. Caramel hummed in displeasure, but distracted himself through noticing the connection between his best friend and the weak not-quite cadaver held by Aloe. "What... Wh-what's...?" Caramel motioned towards the connection, a few wires and chords was all it is, yet it kept Co stable nonetheless. "Don't worry 'bout it. It's just a little promise chord." Lemon giving a slight grin was an unusual sight, but one appriciated nonetheless.

With a few other sparse words of unimportance, the two buds held hands and stuck close by as the group continued down the concrete, cell-covered hall. Caramel looked each and every way as he walked, seemingly paranoid of his surroundings. With his experiences, Mint found himself validating such anxious actions... And he too found himself skimming the area for any danger.

The staircase upwards was a small challenge, since it wasn't quite as expansive as the hallway. The interlinked duo had to take their time while the other two climbed up with ease. Without a hand to hold, Caramel resorted to holding his arms up to his chest. The way he trembled at the top of the steps next to the musician... Prompted Mint to offer his own hand. There was a moment where the victim looked between Mint and Lemon, but ultimately decided to seek that small comfort. At least... Until Aloe and Co. (including Co) arrived at the top of the cold, slow rising staircase.

There was a glare from the sparking fellow as Caramel shifted from one hand-holder to another. "If you ever touch my friend again..." Lem's voice drifted as he felt Caramel grip at his hand. Right, being aggressive and angry wasn't very comforting for a collabrative effort, now was it? His malicious gaze fell to stolid, a small softening that gave a tinge of relief for Mint. "Just... Be careful with him. He's been through enough already."

"Will do, sir."

"Sir? What am I, some headmaster of a boarding school? Just call me Lemon."

"Ah- yes- understood, Lemon."

With a nod between the both of them, the group began their way about the maze of halls and rooms that was the mansion. "I know my way about this mansion. From here, we are but approximately three short halls from the door once we cut through the dining hall." Aloe was reassuring, even if they were insistent on remaining as silent as possible. No other talk to keep things comfortable, not that they could be considering they were in the thick of this twisting and turning mansion.

With the scientist leading the way, others all kept close by either for safety or from being tied to one another, a looming sense of dread fell over the cast as they approached the dining hall. "We should run through." Lemon directly suggested, though Caramel's whimper and Aloe's narrowed gaze back at him gave a solid sense of disagreement.

Mint kept to himself, simply watching out for any danger. This doorway resided within an incredibly dark hallway, so who else but him to watch while the others discussed. Voices kept down, his eyes peered into the darkness to each side of the group. There was no possible way he could see anything, yet he gave his best to watch either way.

"I'm simply saying, if we sprint through, not only could that endanger the wires, we very well could be tackled by passerbys."

"Yea? And you'd rather have us be sitting ducks just waltzing along?"

"Slow and steady wins the race. Much akin to the long-told tale of the tortoise and the hare."

"Whatever! Look, we can't jus-"

"Pardon my interruption, but may I say it is quite an oddity to see you all up and about together."

A heart-stopping shock held the crew in place as the fancifully malevolent voice spoke from a place unknown. Mint could feel his body tremble, and no doubt Caramel's would be, too. Barely able to get past the shock in his system, the musician found the leader's eyes peering at them from the darkness. "Run." His voice commanded, and although his mind never processed nor recognized that he had spoken it, he and the rest of his group went straight into the frey.

Busting open the doors, the dining hall was emptied of all but one. Vampire, who bared no awknowledgement to the situation at hand and was simply sprawled out drunk, was the only individual who resided. A wine glass was spilt upon the table before the sleeping lump, though that was all.

"B-bless be to our l-l-luck!" Caramel sputtered without another word as the group passed the sleeping figure by. The mention of 'bless'ing made the sleepy figure lift his head. Roguefort didn't seem to awknowledge him, either, stepping upon his head and smushing it back into the table as they dashed across in pursuit.

Shoving through chairs and bursting through the next door, the rag-tag group kept as close as they could to one another, though Aloe's slowed pace was beginning to bring them all down. Heaving breath after breath, Mint looked back for only a moment to realize that this slowdown was going to cost them. "They- They're gaining-!" Mint shouted through labored breaths. This was going to hurt his everything later at the pace he was already running, but-

If they didn't do something now, there wouldn't be a later to live.

They may be only two halls left to freedom, but that was two halls too many with the rate at which Roguefort was catching up to them.

With a frustrated huff, Lemon took it upon himself to do what needed to be done. Tearing out the wires that caused him to slow down thanks to being attatched to Co, he turned and made his chance matter. Writing them of the source that slowed them down, he grabbed onto a cold, boney figure as the group turned a corner. He could hear Aloe's pleas, but it went unanswered. Gritting his teeth, his arms did what they must.

Aloe's arms were left empty.

Mint only heard a thud from the chaos, and couldn't dare bring himself to look back. No matter how it tore into his heart, how his ears rung hearing Aloe cry out, he couldn't face it.

This was the price for their freedom. They had to pay it. There was no other way. No other way.

Costly, but free.

Painful, but free.

Fatal...

Yet free all the same.

#🎻 the court's conflicted #🔧 the court's decadent topping #💎 the court of crimson's leader #⚡the vengence served sparked #🌵 the rabid researcher #🍷 the bewitching drunkard #mint choco cookie #vampire cookie #lemon cookie #hero cookie #caramel cookie #aloe cookie #📝 written scriptures #feastofcadavers

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dictacontrion · 5 years

Text

About the Draco/Harry Nazi AUs

In response to several asks and messages about this round and the last.

First, I want to summarize and center the takeaways that come at the end of this post:

Complicity with, silence around, or diffuse support for bigotry matters. It is not neutral.

This is not - it is never - about one or two people, but about how communities signal that they will or won’t tolerate bigotry.

But do beware of people who are more interested in trying to garner sympathy than in taking responsibility

This recurrence may be in part because popular members of this community have defended and protected people who were involved in propagating romanticized misinformation about Nazism in the past. Certainly, this community has not taken a zero-tolerance policy towards this content.

This type of event is not isolated to two events or to antisemitism - see e.g. RaceFail

If we want to make fandom a space that does not support bigotry, we must stand against it loudly and unequivocally

We must do this even - especially - when it involves holding our friends and community members accountable, and even if it is uncomfortable.

If we are not willing to speak up and take action in defense of our principles, those principles mean nothing.

That said:

I’m not going to name names in this post – not because I don’t think there are good reasons for people to want to know who was involved, but because the naming of names was used to derail the conversation last time. All of these people are still active in fandom and on tumblr, and if you want to know who the main players are, I’ll tell you in a private message.

Last January, an artist posted a picture that depicted Draco as a Nazi and Harry as a Nazi prisoner. The caption (with tags that will become relevant in a minute) read:

I - as a Jewish person, as a queer person, and as a member of this fannish community – found this disturbing for a number of reasons. The idea of a Nazi AU squicks me hard enough on its own. This piece also used anti-semitic language, suggested that a “Jew servant” would fall in love with a Nazi soldier and that it could be the case that “war brought them together” when the war was predicated on the genocide of Jewish people, Roma people, disabled people, and queer people. That last bit is important too; the piece ignored/erased the Third Reich’s internment and killing of queer people, and suggested that same-sex love could flourish in the Nazi regime. All of this adds up to misinformation that is – always, but especially in the current global political climate – dangerous.

A well-known author and blogger in the H/D fandom reblogged this piece, including the caption, with supportive tags, as pictured above. They were the first, and at that point only, person to reblog the piece, and without that reblog it's unlikely that it would have gained attention or been seen by many people. Several people pointed this out to them. They responded to private messages from me and several others and, iirc, to anons, saying that they hadn’t been aware, that they hadn’t seen the caption, that they hadn’t done anything wrong, that “the art by itself is lovely and it was for that very plain and simple reason that I reblogged it,” and that they shouldn’t have to and were not going to apologize or remove the art from their blog.

It would have been very, very easy at this point for the reblogger to apologize and remove the piece. They chose not to.

I contacted the artist and the reblogger privately before making any public statements. The artist defended their work unequivocally. The person who reblogged it continued to defend their reblog of and support for the work across several back-and-forths.

While this was going on, I made a very general post about it: "so some of y’all are starting 2018 by adding antisemitismn and ignorance of historical homophobia to the giant flaming pile of homophobic stereotypes in the tumblr drarry fandom, huh? not a good look, folks. "

A third person – also a well-known author and blogger – entered the fray at that point. They replied to that post, saying that I was "having fun vaguely calling people out" and "mak[ing] people paranoid."

In response to that comment and other ongoing conversation happening in the moment, I then reblogged and added on to my post. I named both the artist and the reblogger and said that that their actions, in creating the art and in giving it a large platform, were “moving into a territory of softening and downplaying the significance of horrific actions taken against, and ideologies that still endanger, queer and Jewish people. I don’t know about y’all, but I have less than zero tolerance for that.”

I stand by that statement.

Following that addition, along with several other bloggers’ posts about it and continued criticism from a number of people, the reblogger took down the art and apologized.

I had never engaged with either the artist or the reblogger before this encounter. I have not engaged with them since. I would have been content to leave it there.

However, the third person reblogged and commented on my expanded post. In that reblog, they defended the reblogger's actions, said that I was being unfair to the reblogger, that the reblogger was very upset at being attacked like this, that I wasn’t really concerned about the post but was using it as an excuse to attack the reblogger (who, again, I had not named prior to the third person's accusation that my vagueness was making people paranoid, and who I had never previously interacted with), and said that I should leave fandom.

The third person is someone I had engaged with beforehand, though have not engaged with since. I had not contacted them about this set of events; they initiated this exchange.

I will also note that they had left provocative comments on my posts prior to this, including telling me that I should leave fandom. I have heard through multiple grapevines that this, generally and in the specific instance of the debate around the Nazi AU, was intentional – that, because I wasn’t excited about their work (though also did not criticize it) and because I was critical of fannish trends their friends supported, they were trying to get me to do something that would give them reason to call me out, to make me look bad, to paint me as a bad actor. This is consistent with other interactions I had had with them – with they way they spoke to me about other people, and the way they had behaved towards me previously.

What that means, in this case, is that this person exploited the fact that I – as a queer person, as a Jewish person – was upset by and angry about antisemitic and homophobic art, to get a reaction that they could use towards their fannish political ends.

This person used the vulnerabilities that are an unavoidable part of my life in the real world to provoke me so that they could malign me in fannish space.

This third person has since made a public statement, as well as a private one to me (which I have not responded to), about their actions. These statements have had several things in common. They have consistently painted themselves as in need of and deserving of sympathy. They have never named or apologized for the harm they caused. They never take responsibility - there is no “I’m sorry for defending the spread of misinformation about Nazism” or “I acknowledge that my actions may have signaled to white supremacists that they can spread their ideas in this space” or “I apologize for supporting an action that harmed people within my community” or “I was wrong to stand up in defense of the spread of the romanticization of the Third Reich." They have never, to my knowledge, come out and said that their defense of someone who gave antisemitic and homophobic art a platform was wrong. They have, however, talked about why this has been hard for them, about how difficult it is to hear other people tell them that they are wrong, about how it’s made them cry and how they feel so bad about it all.

It’s made me cry, too. It’s made me feel more uncomfortable and unwelcome and unsafe in fannish space than anything else ever has. It was and continues to be a reminder that the people who I am in community with may very well hate the things I am, and may have no reservations about using that against me. It’s made me withdraw from fannish spaces.

As all of this was happening, a number of other creators and bloggers seemed to get on side with the reblogger and the third person. A number of authors who I had known for some time and had respected and counted as friends or friendly acquaintances unfollowed me after this third person’s very vocal insistence that I was a bully (which, I'm told, extended beyond those public posts). Several people have told me that, following this, reccing my fic or referring to my posts became unofficially verboten in the Drarry Discord and other semi-public fannish spaces. The reblogger and the third person have a lot of sway in this community. They used it - used my reaction to antisemitic, homophobic work that glamorized Nazis - to provoke a reaction and use it isolate me from a space that had been a respite, to create an environment that felt so hostile and uncomfortable that, for a long time, I couldn’t stand to be here.

This whole string of events - the creation and promotion of bigoted works, the defense of that creation and promotion, the unwillingness to learn or hear criticism or take responsibility, the framing of people who are asked to reckon with their actions as victims, the framing of people who insist on naming and resisting bigotry as bullies or problems, the isolation and vilification of people who speak up - is not unique to me, or to this case. It happens over and over and over again, in spaces online and off. It will keep happening unless we stand in its way.

I still do not regret my refusal to tolerate antisemitism and homophobia in this community. I would do the same again. I only hope I would - I perpetually aspire to - do it with just as much conviction and just as much willingness to take risk for those of you who are marginalized in other ways, and who also look to this community as something of a respite from that.

At the time, I was too upset to say any of this. I was panicked. I was hurt. I just needed to get out. But I’ve since wished that I had said more, so I am now, particularly as I see some dynamics of it playing out again.

Again, if there are takeaways worth taking away, it’s these:

Complicity matters. Silence matters. Support for people who give a platform to bigotry matters, even if you call it by another name. It is not neutral. I know that no one has the energy to respond to every thing at every time - but if you use the energy you do have to defend and excuse it, you are worse than complicit.

This is not – it is never - about one or two people. There were quite a few people who supported and excused the artist’s work, the reblogger’s decision to give it a platform and initial refusal to apologize, and the third person’s defense of the reblogger.

But do beware of people who refuse to apologize, who paint themselves as victims instead of taking responsibility for what they’ve done.

If this is recurring, it may well be in part because popular members of this community defended and protected people who were involved in propagating romanticized misinformation about Nazism. It may well be because people have signaled that those who want to tell stories and spread ideas that glamorize Nazism will not only get away with it, but will be defended and protected.

This is not an isolated event. This pattern of behavior has recurred again and again in fandom. Especially if you are not already familiar with it, please see the fanlore entry on RaceFail.

If we want to keep fandom from being a space that does not support Nazism, white supremacy, racism, homophobia, antisemitism, ableism, and all other forms of bigotry, we must do what I still do not regret doing: we must stand against it loudly and unequivocally.

We must do this even – especially – when it involves holding our friends and members of our community accountable. We must do this even when it is uncomfortable.

If we are not willing to speak up and take action, if we are not willing to risk our comfort, risk our status, risk our ease in order to defend freedom and equality, than we are not defenders freedom and equality. If we are not willing to speak up and take action in defense of our principles, our principles mean nothing.

#antisemitism #nazism #white supremacy #bigotry #drarry #fandom is not immune from prejudice #which is all the more reason to be aware of it and to reject it

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tamaraneanpacifist · 4 years

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Wildfire’s RP PLOTTING CHEAT-SHEET

Want new-and-exciting plots for your character? Long to reach out to more of your followers, but don’t know where to start? Fear not! Fill out this form and give your RP partners both present and future all the of juicy jumping off points they need to help you get your characters acquainted.

Be sure to tag the players whose characters YOU want more cues to interact with, and repost, don’t reblog! Feel free to add or remove sections as you see fit. Template here.

Mun name: I go by Star or Starfire online. If we’re close, I might give you my real name upon asking - but if I do, please don’t ‘openly’ call me by it for others to see on this site. I’m very hesistant about RL things like that. OOC Contact: IMs and Asks are always open, I do have a not really used anymore Skype, and a Discord. I do have the right to decline giving one of these to you though, even when we’re mutuals. All listed here that isn’t asks is only for OOC communiation.

Who the heck is my muse anyway:

Assumed-dead prince of Tamaran, a far away planet. Was sent away to preserve the royal family line, but his ship was destroyed shortly after it started and everyone assumed he died. His capsule survived the destruction of the ship, and from another species called the Shallas he learned other values than what he knew from Tamaran. When his foster family was destroyed by someone in search for the lost prince, he decided to live isolated until enough time would have passed for him to return to Tamaran. Once that time came, he decided to first meet his sisters again, and thus reached Earth. He also took up most of the rules and beliefs of the Shallas, and he absolutely hates violence and tries everything to avoid any form of it.

Points of interest:

Most of the times, Wildfire is hidden inside a big purple hooded cloak, he only removes his hood or the cloak in general once he feels safer around someone. His skin is slightly orange but very light, due to him spending most of his time in hiding in caves. He has energy, commonly referred to as starbolts, that he can use to fight. He also is able to fly, is much stronger than any normal human, and can sustain many difficult circumstances like the nothingness of space or very cold or hot temperatures. He tends to slightly hover above the ground instead of walking, it is simply more common for him and he’s not used to walking. His eyes are blue in both sclera and pupil, the pupil is a bit darker. When he uses his energy his eyes often start glowing too. As mentioned above, he tries to avoid violence in any way possible. He is unable to learn languages by lip-contact, and had only found that out recently, so he tries his best to learn english manually, which takes him a bit of time. Thus, he often speaks with a lot of stuttering, and correcting himself after saying something that felt like it was wrong. He is rather shy, hesitating to say things, but he tries to approach others despite that as he very much likes to make new friends.

What they’ve been up to recently:

Wildfire has come to earth in search for his sister’s whereabouts, and quite literally walked into Hay Lin, an other earthen being. He couldn’t speak a word of the earthen languages then, and still she was kind and nice enough to offer him help. She has promised him help in finding his sister, and so he stayed close to his first earthen friend while he tries to learn more of the language, the people and the customs of earth in general. After a reunion with his sister, Ryand’r decided that he wanted to stay on earth for some more time. He doesn’t reside with the Titans, he wants to try and make his own connections and experiences with this world, preferrably while still being close to those that grew important to him.

Where to find them:

He doesn’t really have a home. He sleeps at friends’ houses when invited - he has a little storage place at the Tower where he can store things he gets gifted or exchange clothes or the likes - and if he currently isn’t asked to stay anywhere, he would totally just search for a cave or something, or once he is more used to earth and feels less… endangered, paranoid, hunted, however you may call it, he’d totally just lie down on some nice grass patch maybe in a park or somewhere and sleep there. If he notices any trouble around, he rushes in and tries to help. As much as he wants to avoid attention, he won’t accept any people to be hurt while he is around and could try to prevent it. He also spends a lot time just sitting on a bench or something and watch people being busy. And once he has met Starfire and the Titans, he also starts to meet her friends whenever she brings him to them or them to him; and he visits the Tower every now and then.

Current plans:

I don’t really do big story lines much. I had an AU thing once that I had running basically as a sort-of ‘event’ (Blackfire’s Final Trial was how I called it, searching for it will probably show you more info - or you need to ask me), and while similar might happen again if I ever get that spark of an idea again, nothing is really planned at the moment.

Desired interactions:

I’d be happy about anything at all that happens, to be honest. Having more chances in general to do something with him would be wonderful. Enemies, to-be-friends, any and all Titans, friends of Starfire or the Titans in general that he meets through them. People that teach him more about earth customs, ones that try to use him for something bad or even capture him or something like that, or ones that just make him happy. Anything, really! I love my “Bad Endings”- verse a lot, and would love to explore that more. Though that might only make sense to do with other Titans, and/or people that know him or Starfore or Blackfire already. Honestly, I think Wildfire needs a lot more fluff - touching, gentle gestures, the like - in his experience. So that too. I’d say ‘shipping’, but I have no idea if I can actually do that - personally I always feel like I can’t do shipping well so yeah.

And now the naming of specific characters I’d like him to have the chance to interact with: I think it’d be adorable to have him do things with Mar’i - but again, I have already mentioned her on Star so I keep the mention here short. Joey/Jericho! He’s just such a wonderful character, and I think Wildfire would be very amazed by him. Ry would first actually probably not be aware that there is a language for those unable to speak, and he wouldn’t know of that language then at first, but I’m sure they’d be able to communicate somewhat despite it and I see very big potential for a great connection here. Well, outside of that, I don’t really have the longing for a specific character, so that’s all here I guess.

Offered interactions:

Wildfire tries to stop any trouble from occuring, also he tries to save anyone from any harm at all, even if it is something as simple as falling down a few stairs. If he’s around, he’d catch/protect you (or get you out of the way of the danger even if he’d recieve it himself then) before you hurt yourself. He steps in when there’s a robbery, or someone gets beaten, or something like that, and tries to talk the criminals down from their intentions. He also watches the people being busy, and I can see it as very likely that someone might approach him while he does so and asks about why he sits there so alone.

Current open post/s:

Open Starters and Memes! Both always open, with no expiration date or number. Please don’t hesitate if something sparks your interested, I’ll be delighted for any new interaction!

Anything else?:

I will quite certainly love you if you start interacting with him. I have way too few options to write him, and I so much want to do more that I’d be grateful for anyone that shows interest in him. I’m in germany, so timezone differences are a thing. This is a Sideblog to Starfirechan. I’m also very very very very very very shy, I try to work on approaching others more though. I do have Wire-accounts for my muses, and you can either search for them on my blog or ask me about them, but I don’t know if I could/will ever do any good on those.

Tagging: Everyone that wants to do it!

#☮ Drifting in Space ☮ | OOC #☮ This is what I am ☮ | About Wildfire

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scorpio-karma · 5 years

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Let's Finish Season Fucking Two: 2x18-22

So in 2017 I started to rewatch the show but had to stop at 2x11 because Elena annoyed the crap out of me. I literally needed to take a step back and didn't restart my rewatch until 2018 where I have been basically trudging my way through 2x12-17 because I want to rewatch S3, as it's the season I've forgotten the most about.

So last week with a half of a bottle of wine I made it my mission to finish out the season so 2019 I can rewatch season 3 and maybe remember Kol, but I kinda doubt it. I'll probably come out shipping Klonnie more, if I don't see too many temper tantrums.

2x18:

First of all, this is a terrible episode to start with because it's the episode where Bonnie dies for the first time, so dealing with that is going to be annoying. Second of all why do the recap always explain that Elena and Katherine look alike. Not only is that the least complicated part of the show, but it's also the entire fucking premise of TVD. If you didn't know that by the end of season 2 you're really fucking slow, but I guess they planned according for their audience. Also, lots of people look like Nina, so I don’t know how this is the most “unbelievble part of the show.

Anyway, on to the episode. Matt Davis made a great Klaus. I may hate him, but I'm not ashamed to admit he was attractive to me playing the evil Original, but he equally creeped me out which is why I say he made a great Klaus. The way he kissed Katherine's forehead and basically leered at Elena and other students honestly made me more uncomfortable than watching Penn Badgley in You. Davis should play villains more often, seems to be his niche since Legally Blonde. (Although he didn't do a great job with evil!Alaric in season 3 from what I remember, it was a weak storyline that even I couldn't get into when I mindlessly watched the show, it was how I noticed the drop in quality then) Don't get me wrong I like JoMo's portrayal of him too just really only this season before they woobiefied him.

You know, rewatching all of this I’m noticing more and more that Nina isn't that great of an actress. Like, I was never overwhelmed with her talent before and I definitely am not now especially as I watch her play Katherine scared and there is no difference in the way she plays Elena scared. It's like how Elena with no Humanity is Katherine, well Katherine scared for her life is Elena. There's no nuance when she plays these characters. The only difference is the hair and when season 4 rolls around not even that.

Which brings me to Elena stupidity which I'm not even surprised. First, knowing her life is in danger she goes to school and endangers others lives, under the order of it's my way. Which first of all sweetie, your way has always sucked, until you yield good results maybe hold off on making plans. Second of all, the only reason you know you'll be fine is because Bonnie will save you which is a consistent pattern of hers--risking her life with the confidence that someone will always save her which annoys me because what about everyone else. First it was not staying in the car so she hindered saving Stefan, then it was manipulating Damon, and now it's risking everyone else's lives including Bonnie's because school? Which is where I get confused, no one, especially her, are particularly studious, so why the sudden need to go to school. You could ditch and no one would care because Jenna's out of town.

Which brings me to another thing which I'm sure I went over when Jenna left, but leaving teenagers alone for days at a time because you feel betrayed by your boyfriend and teenage niece you have guardianship over is just...I have no words.

When I was 15 my mom had to go out of town for a convention in San Francisco I couldn't come with her due to school. She was gone for 3 days and I had to stay with my Great Aunt and Uncle because even at 15 you don't just leave your kids alone for days at a time (and also my mom was over protective and paranoid but that's beside the point). At least leave an adult in charge, maybe John, he's probably got to be salty that Jenna was God parent and not him, he is in fact Elena's actual father. There were so many nuances with John the could have had, but I'll get to that in later episodes.

See I understand Jeremy being salty at John for killing his girlfriend, who by the way managed to get over it, but I don't understand Elena's disdain for him. It was there before she found out he was her father, before he enabled the device, she just didn't like him and it's never explained. Like honestly when I think about the reason Elena annoys me the most it isn’t that she whines (which has never really been my big complaint with her), it’s the reasons she’s whining and in this case I have extra annoyance because there are actual reason for her to be this salty towards John and none of them are the reasons she uses.

I noted that Klaus had no plans of killing Bonnie until she became a legitimate threat. The only thing that’s honestly annoying me about this is the direction I know they take Bonnie and her magic in season three. She’s powerful and a legit threat against the original hybrid and yet she’s damn near powerless in later seasons it just irks me.

Also noted, I’m not making any arguments for Bamon, it’s just there is a stark difference in chemistry when Damon dances with Bonnie opposed to Elena. For one, when he’s with Elena he legitimately looks like he can’t dance, all his lines are stiff, as are Elena’s. I can at least forgive Nina since she’s supposed to be frosty towards him, but Ian, this is during a time he was dating her meaning he wasn’t pulling petty shit from the finale--he just legitimately doesn’t have chemistry with Elena.

When he’s Bonnie all of that changes, suddenly he does have dance skills, his lines flow naturally, even his acting improves tenfold and he can play nuances that aren’t eyebrow movement. There’s a reason why he’s only bearable when he’s in scenes with Kat unfortunately those scenes are far and few between and always about Elena.

In a weird twist of events Bonnie has the better costume than Elena--she doesn’t even look like a caricature of the 60s other than the go-go boots. Also Caroline dressed as Jackie O. has an amount of irony I don’t even thing she’s aware of.

Bonnie bossing Jeremy around was hot which is new for me as I don’t care anything about Beremy. That paired with Damon’s “not caring” it was an overall good episode for Bonnie...until she’s stuffed in the trunk of Damon’s Camero.

Bonnie’s line “If the situation was reversed would you do it for me?” just has me rolling my eyes because we all know the answer to that--no, Elena wouldn’t do the same for you Bonnie and she continually doesn’t do the same for you so cut your losses. In fact that’s my advice for the entire series, cut your losses, let Elena die, so many more people will get to live when she does.

So when we do finally get to Bonnie’s death I actually agreed with Damon’s sentiment of “it had to look real” Elena is a terrible actress (Elena not Nina though she has a lot of questionable acting), it’s so bad they trusted Jeremy more and he’s not so great either. Also why are they spending so much time on Elena’ pain at Bonnie’s death and not the character who actually died--it’s the Abby situation pre-Abby, like we should have seen that shit a mile away if this is any indicator.

Although, in an unexpected twist, the episode ends on a a decision of Elena’s I agreed with. Granted it came with me screaming at Elena for apologizing to Damon like??? even if I understood the reasoning she literally owed him nothing, but count on Plec with misogyny for the win, and Williamson lest we forget he’s also responsible for this mess. Anyway after Damon’s words, Elena undaggering Elijah was the best decision she made and this is before the betrayal, so I at least understand trusting him.

2x19:

We start with Nina’s god awful English accent. When she ran lines someone should have made her keep the Bulgarian on from the first Katherine flashbacks because Nina can’t fake an accent to save her life. Also much like the flashback in S7 the Katherine flashbacks with Elijah and Klaus are not only unnecessary, but explain very little. How exactly did Katherine escape? Why didn’t they compel her? Did she have access to vervain? Like little is explained about her duality then and why exactly Elijah had issues Katherine. All that was explained is that they were almost lovers. Honestly all we learned about Katherine is that she really likes for people to chase after her.

Damon is just as bad at plans as Elena. Like I hate them both, but sometime DE are a match made in heaven with how awful they are at things. Like I understand trusting Elena’s lead is actually pretty rational given her past decisions, but you way of thinking isn’t any better. Leave the thinking to those who can actually do it.

This is JoMo’s first episode and you know what? I really miss this Klaus. Also when they do the “Niklaus” reveal I thought it was absolutely ridiculous when I first watched it. I still find it ridiculous, but I realize that much like Mikael, Kol, and Rebekah, it was the “fancy” way of spelling Nicolas, and I’m even more pissed off. No wonder I equate the introduction of each Original to introducing another Kardashian--they really love their K’s.

Elijah trying to use OMG as a cultural reference was just cringe. “Our whole family was human” I wonder at what point they decided to retcon this? Probably around the time they realized they could do anything creative with vampires. Also this line “my mother bore seven children” I thought no one knew Freya existed. Finn, Elijah, Klaus, Rebekah, Kol, Henrik, and then Freya--how is she their long lost sister if they already knew about her?

You know I spent so much time away that I literally forgot about Andie, and now I’m very creeped out. They follow the classic domestic abuse formula where she keeps coming back when she has the option to leave. You know, when rape becomes Stolkholm Syndrome and in Plec and Williamson form they try to convince you that this is a normal vampire thing even having the victim saying “I’m perfectly fine with this”. There were so many Nos.

I remember that the whole Sun and the Moon curse was fake, what I did not remember is that Klaus and Elijah started it. I thought Esther started it to dupe Klaus and that the whole sacrifice was for no reason. I have yet to see S3 so that thought might still be correct. Also, white supremacy essentially causing the war between vampires and werewolves--not surprising, but still disappointing.

Jenna’s reaction to finding out about vampires is appropriate granted her cluelessness up until this point is a whole other level. And Stefan’s serious face towards Klaus seems to to just look at him cross-eyed which I never noticed. And of course we end the episode on on of the lamest vampire fights of all time--they really ran out of ideas around here.

2x20:

So Tyler’s back! Unfortunately it’s because Klaus threw his mom down a flight of stairs. Man, he’s been hurting his mom for quite some time. That sire bond really did a number on him to forget this shit. At least he has that excuse, all Elena ever had was “love” and “hope” like bitch,Damon’s been terrorizing your friends and family, he’s had more than enough chances to prove himself. Also Tyler came back for important things. Sorry, Caroline stans, but Caroline missing him isn’t important when his freedom is on the line.

“Damon s the problem, not Caroline,” listen to Matt, Liz.

I’ll give Matt Davis this, he was a pretty good actor here. The distinct differences between Alaric and Klaus were a lot better than the cliches Nina was using. But then again because he only put against her acting that’s probably why it seemed good. I’m sure there is a lot better (I’ve never seen Orphan Black but I don’t doubt she did a better job at playing her clones than Nina did with any of her doppelgangers).

It must be easy to brutalize Elena after brutalizing Katherine so much--he never missed an opportunity to hit her. Although him shoving vamp blood down Elena’s throat wasn’t as anger inducing as it should have been since it reminded me of a time when Damon being the wild card actually made sense. Not just so much that given how early it is in the show him doing random things makes sense, but that his random actions make sense, less man pain, and was actually strategic.

Also why didn’t Katherine drink vamp blood and then go through with the sacrifice--they had the same results except one less angry hybrid. Is this ever explained as to why vamp blood can’t be in your system for the ritual?

Which now that Elena is essentially taken care of, I suggest using the elixir on Bonnie so she can take down Klaus without dying and then we can avoid the whole thing.

Tyler really should have listened to Jules, but then again, I know she’s the one who dies in the end so maybe she should have followed her own advice.

Also I remembering why SE was never my jam--it was a lot of babysitting Elena and her “I don’t knows”. THEN STOP MAKING MAJOR LIFE DECISIONS UNTIL YOU DO KNOW. “I’m 17 years old, how am I supposed to know any of this?” you aren’t sweetie and that’s exactly the point however I don’t understand how being a vampire is worse to her than the possibility of being dead. From what she lists off as what she wants to do, they all can still happen as a vampire, not so much when you’re dead. And even if she does turn she doesn’t have to fully transition so I don’t get the mourning period she’s having especially since THERE ARE MORE IMPORTANT THINGS TO FOCUS ON. Priorities, bitch.

I get Matt wanting to save Caroline--he clearly still loves her, but saving Damon? He said it himself--he’s the problem, he’s the reason your sister is dead, God! protagonist based morality really gets to me these seasons.

“You turned your back on me when I needed you” but did he, Caroline? If I recall, he saved you in the nick of time so...Also, you asked him to leave, what’s with playing victim all of a sudden (while equally forgetting the time you were a victim). Also, Caroline, you really need to listen to Tyler when he tells you to go, granted the other time she does this is in S5, but he’s literally in a position where he’s not in control of his actions and you are what he hunts. Go, when he says go! These women really need to stop with this “He’ll never hurt me” mentality when their monster is coming out because, bitch, how is that working out for ya?

Also the final scene with Klaus, Stefan, and Elena, I swear most of the dramaticism is in the music the scene isn’t heartbreaking enough for this music. And in a town filled with vampires Klaus needed to make a vampire? I remember not liking Jenna’s death and I like it even less here because it really was for no reason other than the writers don’t know how to write parental figures.

Which brings me to Greta. Her complete and utter indifference to her family being dead is really on par with TVD’s views on family. Even worse, it continues this black character forsakes all family for a white character mammy trope they always have with black witches. Although she does fit the Jezabel trope more, but I’m really tired of “loyal” black characters being loyal to everyone but themselves.

2x21:

This honestly should have been the season/series finale--it actually had a great natural ending. The only thing I’d tweak is Elijah following through, and then it would have been the perfect conclusion to this shit show. Instead we go on for another six seasons where they accomplished nothing other than more of a shit show.

So of course we start with Katherine “caring” for which honestly makes no canonical sense. Damon has literally always been a game for her so why either doppelganger bothers with him just honestly baffles me.

Also we start out with some classic Elena “pleading to their humanity” which was almost as laughable with Greta as it was with Kai. Like Bitch, did you not just see how she brushed off the deaths of her family, why is she going to give a flying fuck about you of all people?

Also Greta, sweetie, what are you doing? I get not wanting to serve nature, but Klaus? WHAT IS THIS NEW ORDER AND WHAT DOES SHE GET OUT OF IT? Because from where I’m standing, she’s in the exact same position as servant just now with an added side of “happy slave” because it wouldn’t be an episode of TVD without that trope. Despite TVD using black bodies as food, I will give Jenna props for going after Greta--someone finally using strategy and knowing Klaus has nothing without his witch.

Which brings me to how the MFG plans to defeat Klaus--they don’t and I’m not surprised since it focused completely on Elena. Elena is one out of three sacrifices and the only irreplaceable item--why not focus on the full picture and maybe accomplish something in the end. I’ll give it to Bonnie and her bad ass magic, but it’s honestly not enough. The entire plan hinged on Elijah who betrays them and Elena for some reason trusts again getting Abby killed and turned, but that’s salt for another review.

The salt for now is that Jeremy and Bonnie have been together in an abandoned house for days on end with really nothing to do, and they tried to convince me that season 5 was the first time her and Jeremy had sex, let alone that was her first time. I was suddenly reminded why I thought it was so weird to me that everyone thought that was when Bonnie lost her virginity--like I’d read it in fanfics and be just confused. Granted she hadn’t had a sex scene up until that point, but given the shows attitude toward sex I just assumed lack of virginity was everyone’s default. And then you had this shit, Beremy was never my favorite ship, but I wasn’t so in hatred of them that I would discredit them having a sex life because why wouldn’t they? Everyone else does, and given the shows attitude toward sex, if she was in fact a virgin that would have been known. Of course, my naive 16 year-old ass didn’t realize how asexual they were making her, but now at 25 and looking back at this I’m just pissed.

So when I looked back on season 2 I remember John being more of a villain, not surprising since the narrative treats him as such, but I literally remember him being turned into a vampire against his will and continuing the process. I’m realizing now I may have had him confused with Logan, but I was really surprised when throughout this entire rewatch John is human and then getting to this episode, knowing he dies at the end and the realizing he never was. I thought he was one before Jenna and that was just all kinda of wrong. I guess it’s because the episode had him apologize for all his wrong doings (none of which were his actual transgressions) and I guess my mind tried to rationalize.

Given my complete indifference towards Elena, it is kinda surprising that John’s letter to her still makes me cry, but I’ve always had the sentiment that John is the only person who made any sense sacrificing his life for Elena. TVD may not value familial relationships but I do. However his “prejudices” line gets to me because he was right--vampires are dangerous, and it irks me that Elena wasted the life he gave her. She doesn’t even manage to stay human for a fucking year, and not by her choice which he gave his blessing for. She just Elena’d it.

Overall this probably would have actually been a good episode if Klaus had actually died and it was the last episode. John dies for Elena, Elijah gets his revenge against Klaus, Damon is left for dead, and the series ends on the note that they’re no longer in danger--the end, finito, better than the acid trip series finale.

2x22:

If this episode needed to happen it should have been Damon’s farewell episode. Actually follow through on something with his character and have him make amends and having a heartfelt goodbye. End series and have every live happily ever after because Klaus and Damon are gone, and Katherine who had no relevance after this season leaves as she had no reason to stick around. Like this is where the series should have ended--it had a nice sense of finality missing from the actually series finale.

Anyway, on to the mess of a fucking episode it was first with Stefan, ever so loyal, ruining what could have been a great Damon death. Now this isn’t really because I dislike his character, it’s more that him dying especially here would have been at a time where that would be an actual loss, this anti hero role Plec kept insisting he was might have been able to have been accomplished with his death in this one episode. And best of all, I wouldn’t have had to deal with one more temper tantrum from him or Klaus.

Watching Alaric’s man pain is marginally easier to deal with because it’s not destructive, but then again he’s human so what would he have done. I’m sure original vampire Alaric would have went on some massacres because they can’t resist man pain destruction.

Caroline once again shoehorned, in today’s episode, a brother sister bonding moment between Jeremy and Elena that would, once again, suit Bonnie more, if even her at all because this is a scene that doesn’t require Caroline, but you gotta giver her that unnecessary screen time some how.

Stefan going to Emily literally makes no sense. As does Stefan’s entrance to the witch house. What do these women owe Stefan Nothing. What do these women owe Damon? Nothing. So the insistence that they help him makes no sense. But of course a black witch not serving a white vampire is useless to Plec so here we are.

The urgency of this episode was lost on me because it was getting in the way of a good plot--Damon’s death. Also after reanalyzing Jeremy’s death scene I’ve come to a few conclusions. First: in a crazy twist of events it is not in fact Damon’s fault. He was literally hallucinating out of his mind so I doubt he was thinking about anything logical. Second: Caroline snapping his neck before he officially died could have saved him. Bonnie even said it outloud--he needed to die a supernatural death to come back. In fact, it probably would have made more sense characterization wise given how she became a vampire. And lastly: even if Bonnie needed to bring him back the “spirits” shouldn’t have been so hard on her especially since they weren’t that hard on Stefan earlier. Like he shouldn’t have had to step one foot in that house--he’s still a murderous vampire, I don’t care how much of a “kind soul” he was as human that certainty didn’t translate into vampire form.

Overall this episode was abysmal but so is this series. My overall thoughts on season 2 is that it’s easily a stronger season, but still is god awful and has not aged well. Also the series would have really benefited if it was a two season vampire series from the late 2000s unfortunately that time period wouldn’t allow that. At the hype of vampires they were determined to milk that for everything they could and the still are with the train wreck that is Legacies. They need to let it die.

#tvd rewatch #tvd review #s2e18-22 #live watch #anti tvd #anti plec #anti williamson

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prettykissesuglylies · 5 years

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Before I begin: warning for discussions of abuse, rape culture, rape and just a whole shit ton of my personal issues, including some internalized biphobia.

So I’ve been having a lot of bad thoughts lately and since I don’t want to put this on any of my mains, I’m gonna spell out some of my emotions here and hope it helps me cope.

So... I have been traumatized by fear mongering. I internalized the hell out of the “anyone at any time may rape you and you would be at fault if you did anything but say no and fight back and even if you did that it would probably still be your fault” culture that surrounded rape and rape discussions when I was growing up. “That shirt/skirt/dress will distract the boys. Who knows what it might make them do. Don’t drink at parties or something bad will happen to you.” Yeah, I noticed that if “something happened” it would be my fault for not taking every precaution I possibly could, and that fucked me up. A lot.

I’ve been dealing with internalized bi-phobia because of the “men are dangerous to you” rhetoric they fed me as a child for years. Literal years.

I have been identifying as a lesbian, knowing full well I was not a lesbian (I’m bi), because I was Afraid of being attracted to Men, because if I’m not attracted to men, then obviously if a man assaulted me, that would be rape. Because I’m not attracted to men.

I experience intermittent sex repulsion, mostly towards men, mostly because of this fear of being raped/assaulted. It’s irrational, but you know what else is irrational? Telling a little girl not to be friends with a boy because he might hurt her. Telling a teen girl that not fighting back means you wanted it, so you better fucking fight back. Having cleavage showing means you’re open for business, and anyone can look and if you let them look you’ll tempt them and make them do evil things to you.

People do bad things. It doesn’t matter what you’re wearing or what your orientation is. “Being careful” doesn’t guarantee you’ll never be raped. Telling people that dressing provocatively invites provocation is correcting the wrong behavior.

But I digress. I have all these fucked up feelings about men and I deal with them in exactly two ways.

1) hypersexualizing myself and whatever man I’m into that day.

2) completely rejecting any and all sexual content/context/behaviors for myself.

These have manifested in 2 ways. This blog that is obviously the hyper sexual part, and several other blogs where I don’t take nsfw requests, don’t write nsfw things and don’t reblogs nsfw content are the rejection part.

I don’t know if I’m ever going to be able to shake this dichotomy.

I used to chalk it up to being asexual (which I am) and we can’t control what makes us horny, but it’s more than that.

I don’t get turned on by the idea of someone assaulting me. I think I just said how paranoid the very idea has made me about men. I rejected an entire part of myself for years because of this fear of assault. But I write these fucked up situations where men are taking advantage, so what gives?

Well... I’m writing it. Me. I am. I have complete and total control of the scenario. I don’t like it, I stop it. I rewrite. I delete. This portrayal of romanticizing what in real life would be repulsive behavior isn’t romanticisizing. It’s taking back power over my fear. I acknowledge that in real life some of my kinks would be Not Okay and downright Illegal without properly negotiation. But I don’t want this shit in real life. Even if I did, it would be consensual, and well planned out and safe for me and the other person/people. I have struggled for years with self hatred because “If you’re so afraid of rape why are you writing it?”

Because it’s not rape. That character isn’t a real person, that perpetrator isn’t a real person. I have all the control. I have all the power. I am owning something that scares the shit out of me and making it my tool for self expression.

The entirety of opposite-sex sexual interactions have been ruined for me by the fear of being attacked by the opposite sex. I may be romantically interested in men, but without some serious therapy I will never be able to be in a healthy relationship with a man. And I take responsibility for that. I have decided not to date men. I’m still bi. I still occasionally want that sappy romantic life with some random dude who catches my interest, but that relationship would be unhealthy and not gonna lie, possibly abusive on my end. Because I’m self-aware, but I’m not too proud to admit that I fuck up and am occasionally a slave to my emotional brain and say and do things that repeat patterns of abuse that I have experienced. I would like to believe that I know enough to know better than that now. I’m also an intelligent human being and know that I’ll make mistakes.

I don’t feel safe around men who are romantically attracted to me. I never have. I feel actively in danger around men who are sexually attracted to me. I can’t control that. I can control my fiction. I can control these scenarios where I take that attraction that I perceive as dangerous and I make it work to my benefit. Instead of being afraid in this fiction I write an experience that is enjoyment, pleasure, from one of the things I fear most in the world.

And fuck anyone who tells me I shouldn’t be able to write it because it’s “problematic.”

The anti- movement is really grinding my gears as of late, and I keep trying to brush it off because in my little fandom circles “they’re not talking about my ship” and “I’m not the bad one.”

But they’re talking about this. They’re talking about what I do. If I posted ever on this blog, or tagged anything ever on this blog, some of them might have already come for me.

The stuff that makes it onto my blog is the stuff that I want to let out. I set it and forget it. Let it loose and I’m free. My fantasies of sitting in bed with a woman who loves me while we watch some show/marvel movie/other media together? I keep those. I want to keep those. I want to keep remembering them. Because I want that.

When I write and post the shit that would be fucked up if it happened to me irl, that gets it out and leaves room for the good stuff. The stuff I want. The hand holding and the secret sharing and the love.

This blog is pure sex because it has to be. Because I can’t express my fears in any other way. Having control makes all the difference. I make it so you have to actively be looking for nsfw content to see my writing. And you have to ignore all my warnings at the front. Before you can say that you interacted with content you didn’t want to. So this shit about how I’m “endangering the children?” No I’m not. In fact, I take far more care than I should have to to keep my content out of young impressionable minds. Because I have been that young impressionable mind. I know that parents aren’t keeping track of the things their kids do on the internet. And I blame my parents just as much I blame the parents of any random kid that shows up on my blog. It’s not my job to be safe for kids. I’m not safe for kids. I’m a grown ass woman. I have grown ass woman issues and I would never Ever talk about those issues to a kid. But if I’m talking to another adult and a kid comes in an eavesdrops on me when I’m in a space that I have outlined as being not for kids, it is not my fault when that kid hears what I’m saying. I’ll be sorry they did, but it isn’t my fault. “Think of the children” is the same argument religious purists use to push anti-gay rhetoric and all sorts of other fucked ideologies. Think of the children is not an argument. It’s a false equivalency. It is not my job to police the media other people consume. It sure as hell isn’t yours. If you have kids, then yes, you should steer them away from things like my blog. But I don’t. I will never have kids. The very idea repulses me. So stop asking me to be a parent for someone else’s.

I’ve been going on forever, and I don’t care, because it feels good to let this out. It’s been festering for weeks.

I’m taking a stance: I’m antianti, I’m pro ship, ship and let ship, screw fandom policing.

Fiction is my outlet, and you can pry it from my cold dead hands, but you’ll have to kill me first.

#abuse mention #rape mention #antianti

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marvmacdonald · 5 years

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“she's fucking impetuous and daring, a little too bold and way too fucking fearless.”

MARY MACDONALD is 21 years old and works as an JUNIOR AUROR and is loyal to THE OOTP they were an GRYFFINDOR and are a MUGGLEBORN. SHE look like CHRISTIAN SERRATOS.

CHARACTER PARALLELS: jessica jones ( jessica jones ), leia organa ( star wars ), arya stark ( asoiaf ), johanna mason ( the hunger games ), nancy wheeler ( stranger things ), rosa diaz ( b99 ), ellie ( the last of us ), raven reyes ( the 100 ), kat edison ( the bold type ), nina zenik ( six of crows ) AESTHETIC: red lipstick stains on drained cups of tea, leather jackets, cigarette bums crushed under doc martens, sitting down in the shower and letting time pass by, always wearing your gold cross necklace, messy ponytails, beer burps, laughter that’s filled with desperation, jean dungarees, screaming in your pillow, mud stained clothes, denim on denim on denim. LINKS: stats. pinboard. character tag. playlist.

history

mary had a little lamb? WRONG. mary had a little calf. because she was born on a dairy farm in the highlands of scotland ( laugh at my joke pls i worked hard on it ). she was born third to two muggles – a scottish father and a mexican mother, who loved each other deeply – and would eventually become their middle child. she could have become overlooked, but mary never felt discounted at home: while her parents were very often busy with the cows, their love ran deep.

her youth consisted of this: running through fields of grass, attending a muggle elementary where people sang songs at her ( old macdonald had a farm and mary had a little lamb, the former of which was, of course, accurate ), playing with the animals, building tree houses with her brothers and sister and playing football every spare moment she got. it was good and simple and wholesome.

of course, strange things happened, as they tend to with muggleborns: she’d explode her brother’s toy when she got angry, or let things fly around the room when she was laughing. when she found out she was a witch at age eleven, things fell in its place. and the macdonalds, while traditional catholics, accepted mary, which is the most important thing of it all. her parents were shocked, yes, but they squeezed her shoulder and promised to discover this all together.

which?? very much influenced mary greatly? because it went against a lot of things they – and she, too – believed in. magic was deemed evil by the church they attended. everything about this was supposed to be wrong, but her parents shifted their views because their love for their daughter was greater than their desire to cling to all the rules the church laid down for them, this has allowed her to have a faith in people, and while she may be cynical and bitter at times, that faith is still there.

i mean --- her parents accepted her, they were capable of openmindedness despite being traditional people in most other situations. other people can too.

hogwarts was as chaotic as home, and mary settled in quite nicely. sorted into gryffindor ( she guessed it was for her rambunctious nature, but who knew ), she found herself a second home and loved it. as it turned out, she was rather good with a wand as well – she didn’t do so good at essays, though – and genuinely liked learning ( except for history of magic. fuck that. ).

being a muggleborn had its downsides, of course, but mary never really allowed herself to feel discouraged. hurt? yes, definitely, but never discouraged. she wasn’t going to let it get to her, she told herself, but it did, especially when the harsh words turned into something more. it was during her confrontation with mulciber that mary felt true, harsh fear for the first time. she felt shut down, paralysed, depressed —– but then, after a while, she got up and took some important steps. she reported mulciber, which led to nothing, which caused her to feel angry, which in turn caused her to feel determination. if the system wasn’t going to be on her side, she’d just have to fucking change it, right? mary started throwing herself in her schoolwork, determined to join the dmle – hopefully as an auror, but any position would do. she suppressed her fear and the trauma that was there, and kept her head straight.

this entire situation is up for change and stuff when/if we get a mulciber!

graduation rolled around and mary got the five required NEWTs to even apply. it was a nervewracking process, but once she got into auror training, she cried. like. for a full ass day. she was so proud of herself and she felt so determined and !! man. it was such a good, defining moment. around the same time, mary joined the order; she knew the ministry was corrupt, and that it’d not allow her to do everything she wanted to, when the order DID. mary had too much anger, too much determination to fight this bullshit to just stick with the ministry, and so the order seemed like the right place.

it’s only recently that mary graduated from her training and became a junior auror. it’s ... infuriating, at times, but also amazing. she hates the ministry and most of the people in it, feels paranoid in those walls, but knows that there are good people, too. people who want to better that place, like she does.

kaz brekker voice: brick by brick, i will destroy you.

also --- mary is ... very quite involved in the war. her time is divided between the order and work, and her dog. she’s determined to get this war to end. she doesn’t even care if she destroys herself in the process --- what does her life mean, if she could help save numerous people?

so right now, she’s fighting. she’s gritting her teeth and keeping her goals in the back in her mind and is focusing. and she does not always feel brave or confident or self assured, but that does not matter: mary macdonald always gets the fuck back up, and that’s what she will keep doing until she’s completely knocked down.

personality & tidbits.

mary is a human espresso. she’s so. damn. bitter?? despite the fact that she keeps on going and that she’s fighting her ass off, she’s tired and angry that things don’t seem to be moving in the right direction, she’s feeling bitter about the fact that this kind of discrimination is happening right in front of her eyes and that she does not have enough power to stop it. she feels powerless, which makes her feel bitter, which makes her cynical.

still! mary is not necessarily a debbie downer to be around. she keeps her bitterness ( and hopelessness, even ) carefully hidden in boxes in her mind. on the outside, she’s filled with quips and smiles and quick comments! just a sociable bean, but just a bitter one.

is a dog person and will fight anyone who prefers cats. has a cairn terrier called bowie. she loves him more than anyone.

obsessed with tea, tbh. her ma always said that ‘there’s nothing a cuppa can’t fix’ and mary definitely agrees with this statement.

though is also a ‘whiskey in a teacup’ kinda gal

can be spotted wearing either a rly nice ass blazer or a jean jacket, no inbetween. either office-fancy or farmer-chique

fucking loves muggle culture and loves fellow muggleborns and !!!!!! she loves it!!!

very much in a take-no-prisoners mindset at this point re: death eaters. it kind of scares her, tbh, but mary is very much capable of murdering a death eater, even if she could stun them — she’s just done. she’s very. done. with them. and this whole shbang? will only feed into this.

mary is ruthless, that’s what it boils down to. she’s a lot more than that, of course, but she’s ruthless — in small things ( football matches & boardgames ) but also in bigger ones, and of course the war is the main way it shows. mary is so angry. she’s so angry and scared and tired of feeling that way and tired of being scared to lose people and herself and of death and she’s so angry that people really are this way and that they really do these things — she wants it to stop. she wants the world to be right. and sometimes she thinks the ends do justify the means.

this is why she’s chaotic neutral and not chaotic good.

like ive had her turned to dark arts before just bc she’s so desperate to. fucking win. tbh i’m sure she has a growing interest rn. stop it mary :(

and she’s also like — mary doesnt care if she ruins herself? if she becomes a bad person who’s unable to live with the shit she’s done? as long as the world is better for it, as long as kids can go to hogwarts and feel safe and the world is a safe place for everyone. what does her soul matter in the grand scheme of things? she’d burn in hell forever if it meant the rest of the world changed for the better.

emotionally driven mess of a being

is catholic but struggles a lot with religion and feeling faithful, but she does still identify is a catholic, it’s just? complicated. it’s rly complicated and she hates it.

is a bit flighty when it comes to romance, def has a lot of one night stands/fwb situations though??? she’s just like??? i dont have time for romance its a WAR

has been trying to stop smoking for five years, but alas

a proud scot. a proud latina. proud proud proud. such a fucking lionness.

mary was a beater during her time at hogwarts and was Highly competitive. threw herself into the sport tbh after the mulciber incident. she still thinks football is superior, but you know, it isnt in the air.

she’s pan and out of the closet --- something that did put a strain on her relationship with her family. ( the fact that they could accept her magic but not her sexuality ... baffles mary, but bigots have never been very reasonable. ) she’s not very open about it at home, but otherwise ... she’s out here lovin everyone.

plot ideas!

roomies —– so mary is not Earning A Whole Lot Right Now but does not want to live at home any more because 1. its in the middle of nowhere and 2. most importantly, she’s afraid of endangering her family. she needs roomies! i’d love for her to live in glasgow/edinburgh/london/idk a city!!!

hook ups/fwb’s/etc —– mary is what the old ppl call promiscuous and she sleeps around. so ! let’s talk! former hook ups! booty calls! friends with benefits! etc etc etc!

party pals —- mary likes going to pubs and clubs in the muggle part of town bc it is a LIT way to escape the reality of the wizarding world and also, muggle clubs have better music. come party w her!!!!

in the dragon’s den together —- fellow ministry employees who side eye the ministry and whom mary can sip tea and judge their colleagues with

mudbloods club —- mary loves her fellow muggleborns and i would love some muggleborn friends that she can be buds with. ranting about dumb pureblood names and traditions and the fact that wizards dont have movies

general friendship ideas —- im just going to a bunch of ideas here: hogwarts friends, ride or dies, order pals, friendly exes, fellow tea drinkers that she can go on coffee/tea dates with, friends who are growing apart bc of the war (my fave), etc.

etc —- some other ideas i want to spitball: purists who h8 on mary’s life, fellow diagon alley employees, fellow order members, Annoyances, there is solidarity in being scottish, ministry connections, etc etc etc HIT ME UP

#maraudrs:intro

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lolainblue · 6 years

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Fangs and Fairtytales: The Two Princes, Chapter Two

Once he had Unnarr safely returned home, Úlfarr set out again for the human realm, to broker with the father of the young maiden they had encountered by the river. Úlfarr had allowed Unnarr a small glimpse of her as they parted, and he had remarked on her fair beauty all the way back to their own kingdom. Unnarr was certain she was the match he had been seeking. It was up to Úlfarr to make the match happen.

As Úlfarr strode down the dusty lane leading to the manor house, a multitude of children who had been playing on the grounds scattered before him, giggling and pointing at the tall stranger with the snow white hair. A few ran ahead, no doubt to alert the house's inhabitants of their incoming visitor. When Úlfarr finally arrived at the door, a footman was waiting for him. The footman ushered him into a large sitting room where he was offered tea while children peeped around the corner to ogle him. As he waited he heard more giggling, although this time it seemed to be of the adolescent female variety. He leaned over and craned his head towards the door he had entered through. Soon a face appeared there for a brief instant, breaching the border of the door frame and then popping away quickly when she realized she had been caught. This brought a new storm of giggles bubbling in from the hall.

That tiny glimpse seared her impression into Úlfarr's brain – large doe eyes of softest brown, a delicately drawn nose, plump lips, and raven dark hair. Presumably the sister of the young woman he sought. Perhaps, once he had secured Unnarr's bride he would negotiate for the sister as his own. It might come in handy to be wed to the sister of the queen, he told himself, although he knew in his heart that marrying a woman from a noble family was probably wiser. He would not admit to himself he too had fallen under a spell with a single glimpse of a young woman of this household.

The girl's father joined him eventually, a short, fat, balding man that Úlfarr was surprised could have fathered two such beauties. He thought their mother must be striking indeed.

“I am Prince Úlfarr, Brother to Unnarr, King of Alfheim,” he said by way of introduction as he drew himself up to his full height. The smaller man blinked his watery eyes back at Úlfarr, seemingly unimpressed by the lithe, handsome man who easily towered a foot over him. “I am here on his behalf, to negotiate for the hand of your daughter.”

The merchant cleared his throat before gesturing for Úlfarr to take a seat. He chose the chair next to him for himself and then poured a cup of tea before answering. “As I am aware my daughter indicated to you long before you came here, I am afraid this will be quite impossible. She is promised to another,” the merchant told him, far more firmly than Úlfarr would have expected.

“Surely, whoever this human is, he cannot offer her the same life that she would have as a queen...” Úlfarr protested.

The merchant shook his head. “No. It is regrettable really, but absolutely impossible. Hélène's destiny was set before she was even born. I am afraid there is no room for negotiation. No exceptions shall be made."

Úlfarr decided to try another tactic. “My brother is quite set on her. I do not think I can convince him to let this pass. Surely you do not wish to anger the King of the Elven realm?”

The man blanched and spluttered. “No, no, no. Of course not. But it is out my hands...”

“You are her father, are you not? I would think that you should have final say in her betrothal. You must simply explain to this young man's family...”

“No, it is not...” The merchant shook his head, his mood shifting from firm assurance to anxiety. "It is impossible. It is more complicated than a simple betrothal. Really, nothing can be done..." His voice had grown more nasal with each word and his eyes darted around the room.

"But.."

The Merchant continued to look around as if he were reassuring himself that they were alone. He drew his chair in closer to his fair folk visitor, his voice a tense whisper when he continued. "She is third born..."

Jared tossed his satchel onto the small worktable in the front area of the bus and then stretched himself out across the seats, lying back and covering his eyes with a groan. As he propped his feet up on the bench, Klara, who had been sitting at the opposite side of the table, sighed in disgust before moving across the aisle. She glared at Jared until he finally dropped his arm. “What?” he asked her impatiently. “I can feel you staring daggers into me. What have I done to displease you now?” They had been grousing at each other for a month now, ever since Klara had caught him feeding from a girl he picked up after a concert in Nickelsdorf. She had been furious, claiming it recklessly endangered all of them, even after Jared tried to reassure her that he was being very careful and that he had gained the necessary level of control. “You don't know that!” Klara had shouted at him in the small hotel hallway after he had walked the girl to the elevator. “You are still practically an infant! Just because you didn't lose control this time...” “Or any of the other times,” Jared had asserted, crossing his arms over his chest. It may have been the first time Klara had caught him but it wasn't the first time he had fed that way. In fact, he had been doing it since picking up a girl at a club in Paris one night early on in the tour. Klara had gone completely off the handle at that admission, shouting and swearing at Jared in her native German until Silas came out of his room, rubbing his eyes sleepily and scolding them both to stop before they said something to attract unwelcome attention. Klara had spun on her heel and returned to her room, slamming the door loudly behind her. . Klara's attitude towards Jared had always been hostile, despite his best attempts at flirting his way into her good graces, so he had paid little attention to her admonishments and disapproval. He continued to feed as he saw fit, picking up girls at every stop, sharing the flat tasting bags with Silas and Shannon when that wasn't an option. This only further infuriated Klara, who took it as more evidence of Jared's selfishness and immaturity. For weeks they had continued their fight, a constant back and forth whenever the humans were out of earshot until Silas stepped in and ordered them to stop. He refused to take a side himself, noting that many moroi fed directly from willing hosts. It wasn't the most common method but provided that they came to harm it wasn't explicitly frowned upon either. Since after weeks of arguing neither had budged an inch, he reasoned it was pointless to continue. The constant bickering was making everyone else crazy. And so they had stopped arguing about Jared's illicit bloodletting and instead had begun to argue about every other little thing either one of them could find to get on the other's nerves. “You know I was sitting there, right? Of course you do, that's where I always sit. I don't appreciate your dirty feet in my face.” Jared grumbled and rolled over. “What's the big deal. It's not like you have an enhanced sense of smell or anything. Not like you have to sit there and smell, oh, say, someone's nasty sardine habit. Who the fuck eats sardines for breakfast anyway?” “It's called a fisherman's breakfast. And it's delicious.” “You smell like Satan's armpit.” “Don't you think I find your food disgusting?”Klara retorted, her mind filled with images of Jared, Shannon, and Silas slurping down bags of blood. “I'm so tired of watching the three of you... you don't even have the decency to do it in private anymore.” “If it bothers you don't look.” “If my sardines bother you don't breathe. You don't have to you know. Well, unless you want to talk. And since you just love to hear the sound of your own voice....” “Shit, not again!” Silas climbed onto the bus, taking the seat next to Klara and sighing like an exhausted father. “It's not even eight o'clock in the morning yet, kids. Could you maybe knock it off for a few hours?” “Fine, whatever. I'm going back to my bunk,” Jared proclaimed before getting up. He stopped in front of the door as Shannon boarded, sunglasses on and a knit cap pulled down low over his head. “Hey,” Jared greeted him, his voice much softer than it had been seconds ago. Shannon just nodded and walked straight back to his bunk, climbing in without any further acknowledgment. “Need to do something about that,” Silas said. “Don't you think I've been trying?” Jared pointed out before retiring to his bunk as well. The rest of the trip to Braga was quiet, hours of tires humming against the roadway punctuated only by occasional snores in the beginning, then eventually the quiet stirring of the perpetually tired bandmates. Klara, who hadn't been able to adjust as readily to the reversed schedule the others kept, watched them all come and go from her customary seat behind the driver. They shuffled sleepily through the narrow aisles, retrieving hidden snacks before settling down in the tiny living area, headphones firmly in place, whiling away the time on books or video games. By now Klara knew where each one hid their goodies, and sometimes she would amuse herself by moving their treats, stashing a packet of cookies in next to someone else's fruit jerky, watching them become paranoid over missing food and discovered hiding places. It was silly and petty, but the constant traveling bored her. Considering all the things that it was within her power to do, she told herself they should be glad she kept her self-entertainment to benign pranks. The band had adjusted to her and Silas's presence well enough. The cover story that had been presented was that of Silas as a professor

of music studies, on a research sabbatical. Klara was purportedly his grad student assistant. Silas had enough of that academic manner about him, and Klara had enough knowledge of music theory for the two of them to pull the charade off almost effortlessly. Silas, unsurprisingly, mostly kept to himself when the brothers were working, losing himself in his own studies, but Klara was more social than that. The Vaduva council had sent Jared a replacement for his personal assistant, a young woman from one of the old families who wasn't chosen to be turned but had grown up immersed in the supernatural world. Klara got along with her all right, but it was mostly business. The two had little in common. Klara had, however, managed to make several friends among the permanent touring crew, sneaking cigarettes with them as they struck sets, getting in the few laughs afforded her these days. In truth, she was miserable. Babysitting Vaduva moroi was not what she had signed up for when she had pledged her service to Davrosh. She should have been traveling with the underground, doing something with meaning. Instead, she spent far too many hours out of her days stuck on a crowded tour bus that was starting to feel increasingly like the tin her embattled sardines came in, trying not to lose her temper with Jared while he tried his damnedest to make her do just that. The rest of her time was spent ferreting out books for Silas and teaching baby vampires that yes, the monsters under the bed were real. She knew she shouldn't be so hard on them, it had only been a few months since their world had been so drastically altered, they hadn't grown up with it the way that she had, but she shouldn't have had to have patience with them at all. She shouldn't be here. Shannon, being the first one to his bunk on boarding, was also the first one to awaken. He padded up to the front living area in baggy sweats and stocking feet, an oversized hoodie wrapped protectively around him. He nodded in Klara's direction before grabbing a tablet and settling in on the seat opposite her. “Hey, Shannon. How's it going? Did you sleep well?” Klara asked. Shannon nodded and gave her a faint smile before turning his attention to his tablet. It was the response she had expected. Shannon had not spoken a single word in months, not since he was turned. Silas didn't seem to have any answers as to why that might be. He had debated it at great length with someone over the phone, Klara had heard him deep in conversation on many occasions. He had pored over his books, examined the newborn vamp repeatedly, even flown in a mystic to try to pull him from his silent prison. Nothing had helped, and Silas had admitted he was unsure if the problem was physical or psychological. Klara thought it was obvious. He was traumatized and heartbroken. His silence created a barrier between Shannon and the world that had turned so cruelly on him in the space of a day. Klara stretched out her foot and nudged Shannon's knee with her toe. He looked up from whatever he was reading and she held out her bag of cookies, offering him one. He accepted with a smile, fishing out one then holding up two fingers to ask for another. Klara smiled back and nodded, and he pulled a second treat from the bag before nodding back in thanks and returning to his tablet. She sighed. She had been speaking with her mother about attempting something to help him. The elder hexe had suggested a spell that was often used in tricky interrogations, one that compelled the recipient to speak, but Klara had declined. Shannon had done nothing to hurt anyone. If not speaking was his choice, Klara didn't think she had the right to take that away from him. She would wait. When the bus finally stopped everyone was itching to get off. It had been about six hours since they had boarded in Madrid and they all wanted to stretch their legs and get in some fresh air and some of that warm Portuguese sunshine. Well at least most of them did, Klara thought, watching Jared put on his sunglasses and carefully adjust his hat. He caught her gazing at him and she quickly looked elsewhere, noting that as her eyes had darted away he had looked embarrassed himself. She hurried out the door as soon as it opened, lighting a cigarette and trying to put Jared out of her mind, at least for now. She leaned against the side of the bus, watching as everyone split into groups, some heading off to the hotel while others delivered some of the equipment to the venue. It probably appeared chaotic to the casual observer but by now Klara knew it to be a well-orchestrated dance, and everyone knew their partner and their part. Her partner was Silas, and they would be headed into the hotel with the main group. Once inside she expected to be given her room key and shown upstairs, but instead, the tour manager Ryan was standing with a pair of men in dark suits, ushering some of the people into conference rooms off the main lobby. She frowned and looked over at Silas for answers but he shrugged his shoulders. “Professor!” Ryan called out as spotted Silas and Klara. “You two were staying on the main floor with the band members. Please go into conference room two,” he directed once they had approached. His voice was tight and he was tapping his foot nervously. Klara looked from Ryan to the two men that stood next to him. Both were tall and broad-shouldered, their faces set in grim lines as they watched everyone pouring into the lobby. Their officious manner and no-nonsense suits set her teeth on edge and she could feel the hair on her arms spring to attention. This was nothing good. She was certain of it. “Perhaps I should...” go see to Shannon and Jared she was about to say when Silas cut her off. “... go to the conference room as was requested,” Silas finished for her, his voice firm and strangely calm. She knew she couldn't argue in front of these men and so she acquiesced, filing into the smaller of the two rooms where Tomo, one of the other band members, and Cade, the assistant that the Vaduva council had sent, were already waiting. Cade shrugged and shook her head when Klara gave her a questioning glance. Jared and Shannon were the last ones to arrive, taking seats next to Klara and Silas. “What the hell is going on?” Jared whispered to Silas as soon as he had sat down. “I was hoping you could tell me,” Silas whispered in return. “Seriously, what the fuck?” Tomo asked loudly, apparently deciding there was no use for all this whispering. “I just want to get up to my room and take a damn shower.” Ryan and the two mysterious men joined them then, closing the door and shutting the blinds that looked out on the historic hotel lobby. Ryan seemed to have gone from nervous to pissed, gesturing to the people seated in the room before sitting down with a loud thud. “Well, here they are,” Ryan told the men. “Let's get this over with. We have a schedule to keep.” “Mr. Gregory,” one of the men said in a thick Spanish accent. “this is a very serious manner.” “Which, I have assured you, we have nothing to do with. It is just a coincidence I am sure.” “Yes, well, that is what we are here to determine.” the man continued before turning his attention directly to Jared. “I am Inspector Romero, from the Cuerpo Nacional de Policía. We are investigating the disappearance of a young woman in Madrid, an Ana Santos. She was last seen two nights ago, attending a concert you performed there, then again at a nightclub, and finally, entering the Hotel Atlántico with you sir. No one reports seeing her leave, and no one has seen her since."

@fyeahproudglambert @pinkletodreamer @letosangels@lady-grinning-soul-k@nikkitasevoli@polosatik23 @fortify-undeny @thepromiseofanend @llfd1977

#fangs and fairytales #the two princes #F&F: The Two Princes #jared leto fanfiction #shannon leto fanfiction #Thirty Seconds to Mars #30 seconds to mars fanfiction #vampire!au #vampires #paranormal

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mermaidsirennikita · 6 years

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May 2018 Book Roundup

I don’t know when I got so into thrillers--but here we are. Of course, I’m not as into the types of thrillers that are about a cop pursuing a killer. It’s more the insidious types of domestic thrillers that catch my attention, about idle suburbanites who secretly harbor paranoid minds and little hatreds. That’s probably why I enjoyed “A Simple Favor” by Darcey Bell and Liv Constantine’s “The Last Mrs. Parrish”, however much they polarized readers. They both feature horrible women, stupid men, unreliable narrators, and endings that don’t neatly tie up loose ends. In other words, they’re perfect summer reads.

The Defiant by Lesley Livingston. 3/5. The second in a series, The Defiant returns to the world of female gladiators and in particular Fallon. Now triumphant and happy in a ludus run by her sister, Sorcha, Fallon expects to have it easier. However, her life is upturned when the women of the ludus are accused of rebelling, and Sorcha goes missing. I rated The Valiant, the first book in this series, four stars so I must have enjoyed it, but I also don’t really remember it, aside from the basic plot and being interested in Sorcha and Fallon’s relationship. I would still say that the sister relationship is the core focus of the plot, which is different (and distracts from a fairly shallow romance between Fallon and Cai, a Roman soldier; there’s an opportunity for something cooler, but the author bypasses that completely). But I think I’m over this series; this book drove home that it skews too young for me to enjoy it. The gladiatrix thing is cool, but there’s so much in this book about how the ludus is home, and like... hasn’t everyone been enslaved by Romans to some degree? Taken from their homelands? Forced into a blood sport to be entertainment? It’s fun, and I won’t say that it isn’t without merits, but this is too shallow for what it takes on.

Fatal Throne by Candace Fleming et. al. 4/5. A collaborative novel from the perspectives of all six of Henry VIII’s queens--and Henry himself. What impressed me about this book was how it wasn’t really straightforward. It seems like it might be at first; Catherine of Aragon’s section kicks it off by detailing the beginning of Catherine’s life in England, up until her marriage is collapsing. Now, don’t think that this makes it a bad story; I quite liked it. Catherine of Aragon is, in this version, for once more than a stereotypical zealot queen, though the author does that thing where a character whose native tongue is Spanish constantly throws random Spanish words into English sentences, which doesn’t feel real. But anyway; many of the other stories are less traditional. All revolve around the queens’ downfalls or deaths; for example, Anne (or Anna, as she’s called here) of Cleves has a story that really centers around her dying days, and the ghosts of her past. There’s a weird, haunting creepiness to everything. Though there are some rather shallow moments--including one bit in the Anne Boleyn story that seemed... pretty off--and there isn’t any reinventing of the wheel, it’s a sad retelling of the wives’ story, where the central villain is undeniably Henry VIII.

Ash Princess by Laura Sebastian. 2/5. Theodosia was a child when she was forced to witness the murder of her mother, the queen of Astrea. Since then she’s been beaten and terrorized in the submission by the conquering Kaiser, forced to live as Lady Thora, the Ash Princess. The combination of being forced to commit a terrible act and the reappearance of a childhood friend wakes Thora to the reality of her people’s suffering, and spurs her to action. She’s given a task: seduce the crown prince, and kill him. So yeah, pretty typical fantasy stuff, but that doesn’t mean it has to be bad. What makes it bad is Theo’s flip-flopping as a character and a truly dismal love triangle. Neither romance feels real, and Theo’s constantly between dithering and acting like... Stormborn-lite. Oh, yes. The GoT influence is strong in this one. I just wish it had been more interesting.

Love and Ruin by Paula McLain. 3/5. The turbulent romance between Ernest Hemingway and his third wife, writer Martha Gellhorn, is told from Gellhorn’s perspective. I remember really liking McLain’s version of Hemingway’s first marriage, “The Paris Wife”, but that was so long ago that I can’t remember much of it. And for that matter, that marriage--which occurred during Hemingway’s years as part of the Lost Generation in Paris--was a very different animal from what he shared with Gellhorn. You get the expected beats--Gellhorn and Hemingway meeting, her being initially starstruck while harboring her own ambitions, their work during the Spanish Civil War, the affair that led to a marriage, and that marriage’s destruction because Hemingway was incapable of holding a decent relationship and Gellhorn’s fierce independence kept her from being the idealized wife he wanted--but while the writing is pretty... the expectedness keeps the book from being more than exactly what it is. And though obviously Gellhorn was a good bit younger than Hemingway and obviously her love for him and hero worship of him allowed to overlook shit long enough to up and marry the guy... I just don’t really buy that Martha Gellhorn would speak and act the way McLain seems to think she did. She’s so over the top as a young woman in love. The book is fine, it’s just uninspired.

Trespassing by Brandi Reeds. 4/5. Veronica is at her wit’s end, caring for a toddler while her husband is often gone for work as a pilot, while at the same time pumping herself full of hormones for her fertility treatments in order to have a second child. Still traumatized by the miscarriage she suffered recently, she is shocked when her husband, Micah, doesn’t come home--on the same day that their daughter claims that “Daddy went to God Land”. Swept up in a mess of emotions and falling under suspicion from the police, Veronica flees with her daughter to the Florida Keys, where her husband had a house in her name. But the island life presents even more questions. Who are the children in the photos she finds, and why is Micah with them? This is a solid, engaging thriller that somehow is at its most disturbing when you consider the fact that Veronica’s mind is rattled in part because of what she’s put her body through via fertility treatments. Veronica is sympathetic, and rather than stupidly accepting things like thriller protagonists often do, she’s paranoid, protective, never quite trusting anyone. Why should she? While I won’t say that the reveal in the end is one of the best I’ve read, the story as a whole is very interesting, and I appreciated the fact that Reeds really delved into the mind of a woman with a bit of feminine body horror--like, in a sensitive way. It’s different. The book is as much about Veronica’s identity as anything else.

The Last Mrs. Parrish by Liv Constantine. 4/5. Amber envies the lives of glamorous trophy wives, none of them more than Daphne Parrish. Daphne has it all: a handsome, doting, extraordinarily wealthy husband, two daughters, and all of the possessions she could desire. So she begins her plan: befriend Daphne under the guise of a homely, Pollyanna type and steal her life. But as Amber becomes closer to Daphne, she constantly has to look over her shoulder for ghosts from her past that could disrupt her plan. Little does she know that the real danger could be closer than she thinks. This book was kind of disturbing and definitely does not have the type of ending that will leave you.... feeling morally good. But it’s juicy. It’s Big Little Lies kind of juicy, about vaguely psychotic women with rich and famous lives. Frankly, I would have appreciated more development of the female characters aside from Amber and Daphne, but the two of them were great as is. You spend about half the book in Amber’s mind, and she is HEINOUS. But in an interesting, darkly funny way. The book isn’t going to be for everyone, but I found it extremely entertaining.

Next Year in Havana by Chanel Cleeton. 2/5. Marisol has never been to Cuba, the homeland her grandmother, Elisa, fled as a young woman. She returns to scatter Elisa’s ashes after the death of Fidel Castro. However, she didn’t expect to connect with Luis, a historian and dissenter in the current regime--nor did she expect to discover that her grandmother had an affair with a revolutionary. This book has a lot to say about Cuban politics; and I value that. But unfortunately, the political backdrop takes over the story, which is very paint by numbers. Nothing surprising happens. The characters are dry. I wish I loved it, but I just didn’t.

From Twinkle, with Love by Sandhya Menon. 3/5. Teenage Twinkle is an aspiring filmmaker, out of sorts as her relationship with her best friend Maddie--newly popular while Twinkle remains a bit of nerd--deteriorates. She’s surprised when Sahil--the shy twin brother of her crush, Neil--asks her to collaborate on him on a gender-flipped version of Dracula, but it isn’t long before she’s starting to look at Sahil in a very different way. At the same time, however, she’s corresponding via email with her secret admirer, N--who she very much suspects is Neil. What is Twinkle to do? I loved Menon’s debut, When Dimple Met Rishi, and I’m still very excited for the spinoff of that book. It was a perfect little romcom. This was not. This book read much younger--and Twinkle and Sahil are a bit younger than Dimple and Rishi were. But their voices were also VERY immature, and in general it just... missed the mark for me. I think someone younger would love this book. It did touch on several really great threads, especially with Twinkle’s family. But I didn’t feel the same thing I felt with WDMR at all.

Furyborn by Claire Legrand. 4/5. When her best friend Prince Audric finds his life endangered, Rielle saves him--exposing herself as capable of wielding all seven types of elemental magic. There are two people foretold to have this gift; one will be a queen who brings light and salvation, while the other holds blood and destruction. Put to the test in a series of trials, Rielle must prove exactly which one she is. A thousand years later, bounty hunter Eliana is shocked to find her mother kidnapped, with the only person who can help find her being a rebel leader. In joining up with him, Eliana defies the empire she’s worked for--and puts herself in terrible danger. This book is an interesting one; the two narratives you’re following are focused heavily on their respective leads, and neither woman is traditionally “good”. Eliana has the charm of being a tortured rogue, at least--Rielle is more complex, obsessed with adulation and self-centered to the point of callousness. But I enjoyed both of them, with Eliana’s story picking up a few points over Rielle’s towards the end... which was a pleasant surprise, as at first I wasn’t sure if Eliana’s side of things would measure up to Rielle’s. There is a lot amgoing on, so things can get a bit confusing--and this makes the middle drag a bit. But the ending left me dying for more, with the only other complaint I can make being that Legrand could work on her sex scenes a tad. But if you’re looking for a female-centered story with a few guys who are all about that undying devotion thing, plus a sexy villain and moral ambiguity, I recommend this one highly.

One Match Fire by Lissa Linden. 2/5. Twelve years ago, Paul and Amy were camp counselors--and he broke her heart. Now Amy is back to run the camp after Paul quits, though they don’t realize that they’ll be meeting up again until she’s at his door, physically different but emotionally still affected by what happened between them during their teen years. Both frustrated and with few other options, they make a deal: until Paul leaves, they’ll have a purely sexual relationship. But Paul wants to know what really has Amy rattled--and he doesn’t want to leave anymore. I like romance, I like erotica--I wasn’t sure how to categorize this book, as most of it is graphic sex but I don’t know, the erotica bells weren’t quite ringing for me--but I still need stakes. They don’t need to be fantasy stakes. They don’t need to be thriller stakes. It could be that the family business is about to go under; it could be that the leads are dueling lawyers. STAKES. This book has no stakes. I thought that Paul did something super shitty when these (28 year old) people were kids, but like... it was a bit douchey, but tons of people were dicks to me in high school, I was a dick back, and I don’t remember much of it. Certainly, I found Amy’s reaction a bit over the top. At the same time, Paul was--very shortly into this sexual relationship--being like “give yourself to me emotionally Amy” and I was like lmao dude why y’all haven’t spoken there is no reason for you to be so invested in this woman. He was so pushy, it really irked me. The sex scenes were okay. “Will these two people run a camp together” just wasn’t a big enough question to keep me interested.

A Simple Favor by Darcey Bell. 4/5. Widowed, neurotic mommy blogger Stephanie has found the best friend of her dreams in Emily Nelson, a wealthy publicity exec with a handsome husband and beloved son Nicky, who happens to be the best friend of Stephanie’s son Miles. So when Emily asks Stephanie for a “simple favor”--to watch Nicky for a few hours after school--Stephanie doesn’t hesitate to do so. But when Emily doesn’t show to pick Nicky up--when she isn’t even home by the time her husband Sean returns from a business trip--Stephanie goes on red alert. It isn’t long before the police find Emily’s body; and it also isn’t long before Stephanie begins taking her place. As Stephanie begins receiving odd messages, the question is impossible to avoid: what really happened to Emily Nelson? Alternating between Stephanie’s blog posts and the characters’ perspectives, “A Simple Favor” is one of those thrillers that is kind of balls to the wall insane. You can expect to find that Emily wasn’t all that she appeared to be. But Stephanie’s secrets are just as great, if not greater. I’ve seen a common complaint regarding this book regarding the fact that none of the characters are good people. For me, that just made it more delicious. Emily is this enigmatic, alluring figure luring over the entire story, and you just can’t shake her appeal.

#books #book recs #book roundup

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