#‘we are the protagonists of the world’ ???? should i leave the room give y’all some space maybe
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me blushing, kicking my feet, twirling my hair when reading haikyuu forgetting it’s a sports manga and not romance
#sorry ‘as long as i’m here you are invincible’ got to me#‘we are the protagonists of the world’ ???? should i leave the room give y’all some space maybe#my days#who says shit like that with a straight face get a fucking grip#haikyuu#kageyama tobio#hinata shoyuo#kagehina#shobio#bokuaka
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Imperial Agent Storyline: Drunk History Version
Since people really seemed to like the last one! Y’all’s collective wish is my command. Spoilers for the Imperial Agent storyline, obviously. Enjoy!
- so you start out with your agent on Hutta, a little polluted slimeball of a world that literally everyone but the Hutts canonically hates. there's lore but we're going to ignore it. the important thing is that you're here to con a Hutt, always a dangerous gambit, into working with/for the Empire.
- you sneak into a corner to space facetime your boss, a guy we only ever know as Keeper because Intelligence is weird about names. sneaking into corners to facetime people is a repeating theme throughout the story.
- you are informed that you've already got a cover story set up, and you'll be posing as an infamous pirate called the Red Blade who'll be able to get in close to the Hutt in question, whose name I've forgotten. Nethro or Nefro or something.
- "wait, what about the actual Red Blade," you ask your boss, probably
- "he's halfway across the galaxy, you don't need to worry about him," your boss replies, in a textbook example of what we in the writing business call “foreshadowing”
- (spoiler alert: you need to worry about him)
- but we won't worry about that for now. bada bing bada boom, you stroll on into the Hutt's place. you are immediately confronted by a guy who, shock and horror, actually knows the real Red Blade and knows you ain't him. (one would think that all-seeing Intelligence would have known about him, but nuance.) this is a problem for a number of obvious reasons.
- your options are as follows: bribe him, kill him, or sleep with him. (this is also something of a recurring theme throughout the story.) whatever option you take, he's dealt with. (yes, this is the man eris fucked five minutes into her storyline.)
- (I didn’t want to pay him money, leave me alone.)
- anyway, the mission progresses smoothly. meet the Hutt, do some jobs for the Hutt, betray the Hutt's right hand and stab him in the back right after convincing him you were friends, invade the Hutt's rival's palace, McMurder the Hutt's rival, you know. your average day at the office
- most of the way through, the Hutt's other right hand starts to be suspicious about you. this is Kaliyo Djannis, and she will be Plot Relevant™.
- by which I mean she shortly thereafter walks in on you facetiming your boss and gets hired by Intelligence to help out for gods know what reason. welcome to your first companion
- (or possibly you walk in on her facetiming your boss in your room, I.. don't remember, honestly. something like that.)
- anyway one Hutt is dead the other is working with us bada bing bada boom this is going great and hey remember when I said you needed to worry about that guy you're impersonating this whole time? yeah, about that,
- so the real actual Red Blade comes sailing in to Hutta and Intelligence immediately calls you up like "hey, hate to bother you, but your cover's about to get blown in a big way and we need you to murder the guy whose identity you've stolen before he can expose you.”
- "so, just like that training mission last week. gotcha, boss, no problem."
- murder time™
- congration you done it! go home to Dromund Kaas.
- "You're on Imperial soil now, agent. Welcome home." [nonhuman Agent immediately experiences 27492738957 microaggressions] (this joke isn’t mine, for the record)
- first off, Intelligence HQ has a bomb aesthetic, as does the entire Empire in general
- second off, you do walk in on your boss talking to - by which I mean "being given a speech by" - a Dark Lord, which is less than optimal for a number of reasons, first and foremost that speeches by Dark Lords of the Sith quite often immediately precede someone getting killed
- said Dark Lord is one Darth Jadus, who will proceed to be a thorn in your side for approximately the next three hours of gameplay
- (don't worry, after that three hours you'll get a worse thorn)
- Darth Jadus decides he likes you and declares you "his" agent, which you immediately get the gist is about the worst thing that can happen to an Intelligence agent from the way everyone around you treats you like you've just had a ticking bomb strapped to your back for the rest of this meeting
- you're sent on a handful of missions, including one to the Dark Temple which, you know, Force-deaf people aren't supposed to be in, but Jadus Does Not Care
- Jadus calls you into his office at one point and tells you he's going to do some ritual to bind you to his service or something, it's not really clear, but it's clearly Not Optional and also terrifying in concept
- now, quick sidebar. there are basically two paths to take here: one where you suck up to the Sith and treat them with the utmost care and respect and fear like you're kind of supposed to, and one where you mouth off at every opportunity. Eris is mortally terrified of Sith, so she just kind of.. submitted knowing she was going to die if she didn't.
- my second run, however, was just a "hey how bad can I fuck this up" character because I already knew the story.
- I decided to mouth off to Jadus at every opportunity, including adamantly refusing this ritual.
- "What can he do to me?" I asked the person I was playing with. "I'm the protagonist! It's not like he can kill me!"
- Jadus: *kills me*
- me:
- (mechanically, anyway; story-wise I'm sure he just. put her on the brink of death. but mechanically speaking he literally actually did kill my toon)
- (this should be a warning for exactly how much this storyline is willing to put its usually-heavily-plot-armored protagonist through.)
- anyway.
- do some missions, blah blah blah, Sith possession in the Dark Temple, blah blah blah, you know the drill
- well, turns out Jadus is going on tour with several hundred Imperial civilians, military, and Sith, allegedly all hand chosen, to share his ~vision for the Empire~. that's all well and good, whatever I gue-
- sorry what do you mean his ship exploded
- what do you mean a member of the Dark Council just blew up in orbit
- cue Kill Bill sirens
- Panic! At The Intelligence HQ
- this throws everything into chaos; not only was Jadus more directly involved in Intelligence, but he was a Dark Councilor so now there's a massive power vacuum
- the Sith who ends up filling this power vacuum? Jadus's daughter, Darth Zhorrid.
- remember when I said you'd have a bigger thorn in your side after Jadus?
- so yeah. so Zhorrid is, for lack of a better word, fucking terrifying
- she's sadistic and completely careless of others' lives or wellbeing and oh yeah she also instantly latches onto you even harder than her father did and demands you find his killer
- a lot of your meetings with her aren't really plot-relevant so I'll sum them all up here:
- Zhorrid was horribly abused by Jadus, completely broken. She tells you a story about how she used to sing, and her father hired a tutor, then had her sing at a Kaas City performance until her throat was so damaged she could never sing again. He tore every scrap of joy out of her life, completely failed to teach her what she needed to know to survive the rigors of the Dark Council, and instilled every ounce of hatred, sadism, and complete lack of pity he could in her.
- She kills people for no reason other than a whim, because she was listening to a Sith opera and the aria was "very moving" (an actual literal thing that happens).
- She acts like a complete spoiled brat child. At one point the other Dark Councilors literally beat and torture her, presumably for this reason because she's insufferable and arrogant and way out of her depth, and she cries to you about it
- If you’re like me, your response to all this is basically “cool motive, still murder”
- I have sidetracked very hard. where was I
- so you spend a while trying to hunt down the people who blew up Jadus's ship. There's a bunch of rebels, you hunt them down, they've got biotech weapons called Eradicators set up to destroy cities on multiple planets, skippity skip to the big reveal
- Jadus is alive, and he organized the whole thing so he'd be able to remake the Empire into the image he wanted. He tortured and enslaved the survivors of the Dominator's destruction
- Jadus gives you a whole speech about how fear is a gift to be shared and "Through victory my chains are broken" but there must be chains to break and blah blah blah holy shit this man is genocidal
- you have three choices: join him for real, pretend to join him so you can sabotage his ship and then kill him (at the cost of hundreds of thousands of Imperial lives), or refuse outright and save those hundreds of thousands of lives but Jadus escapes (and you know he's allegedly likely to return and do even worse damage later).
- (Quick sidebar again, for those who haven’t played it: Eris chose the second option and has nightmares about it for the rest of her life. It's actually extremely haunting in-game - as you're running through Jadus's ship to sabotage it as fast as possible, you can hear the distress calls from various colonies and planets being attacked, the screams of the dying that you doomed. It's horrifying.)
- so yeah there’s really no winning that situation but hey! at least Chapter One’s over. surely in Chapter Two things can’t get worse.
- Chapter Two: Things Get Worse
- there's this guy, Ardun Kothe, an SIS agent. he's a huge threat for some reason I don't remember. you're supposed to infiltrate the SIS to get close to and eventually kill him. not an easy job, but okay, we can do this.
- Intelligence sets up the meeting; months ago they sent the first word to Kothe that there was an Intelligence agent ready to turn and they've been building up from there, sending him a steady stream of information
- enter Hunter, aka the worst bastard in this entire storyline and that is an achievement. He's the one you meet first on Nar Shaddaa.
- you do some missions for the SIS, whatever, it's not important. You finally get to meet the rest of the team - and Ardun Kothe.
- Kothe wants to speak alone, which is p typical tbh. He expresses some doubts, which you assuage as best you can; he gives you your code name: Legate. It's from a form of sabbac, he explains, you'll have to play with him sometime.
- (It is difficult for me to make what happens next funny instead of horrifying, so forgive me if the tone changes a bit here.)
- Everything is going fine.
- "I'm sorry about this, Legate."
- What?
- "Keyword: onomatophobia. Engage Thesh protocols, phase one."
- Everything is not fine.
- You black out and have an extremely rude awakening.
- So it turns out whatever happened with Jadus, the Dark Council decided you were too dangerous (usually for doing your job too fuckin well) and that you needed to be leashed. So not you have mind control programming in your brain, and anyone who has your keyword can take complete and unequivocal control of your body. this is, in a word, not great.
- (This is, as I mentioned, actually extremely horrifying. You have dialogue options and they don’t change what you actually say. You have an opportunity to shoot Kothe and even if you try to select it nothing happens. But we’re not here for the horror take (not today, anyway) so let’s just This Is Fine that and move on)
- Tl;dr you can’t harm Kothe or any members of his team, you’re forced to obey anyone who has your keyword, and this wouldn’t be that much of a problem because we’ll just tell Watcher Two what’s happened and oh wait you can’t tell anyone about your programming either. well, shit.
- You go on to work double agent, like it was planned, with this new, uh. twist
- about a third of the way through the chapter, your mind kind of cracks and you start having hallucinations - seeing things you know can't be real during a holocall, passing out in the middle of your ship and waking up in medbay.
- After that, a new voice lives in your head! Watcher X, someone you either killed or let flee on Nar Shaddaa, has sort of joined the party. Is he an AI in the spinal implant the real Watcher X gave you? is he a figment of your broken mind trying to process its situation? Who knows! Not you! either way, this is not optimal but at least he seems to be being helpful this time
- so anyway we should probably try and figure out how to undo this programming bc Intelligence is being Wholly Unhelpful
- (ASAP, please, especially with how horrible Hunter acts toward you - let’s go with “uncomfortably leery,” which I promise is generous.)
- by the way, your companions still have no idea what’s going on during all this, although they try to be varying levels of supportive (thank you vector I love you bug husband)
- Good news! The Intelligence Archive almost definitely has information on what they did to you and how to fix it. Bad news! You’re definitely not authorized to look that up and crashing the power mainframe to make sure they don’t see you do it sends the security droids after you. whoops.
- Good news! There’s a way to fix you. Bad news! You have to make and inject yourself with a still-kinda-experimental cocktail of chemicals and it may or may not give you permanent brain damage. it’s fine. this is fine.
- also it takes a while to kick in which is Less Than Optimal and by the time it finally does you’ve just been left with a binding order to stay and guard the door on what is, for you, a suicide mission. there’s some incentive to “break your chains” for ya.
- You fight and kill Kothe. Who, shock and awe! is an ex-Jedi! this was in no way painfully obvious by how he kept talking about “sensing” things, I’m sure. definitely not.
- Hunter escapes, because of fuckin course he does. Hunter, who suddenly seems far more in control of everything than he had before. Hunter, who knows far more than he should. Hunter, who ends up leading you to a much, much larger conspiracy.
- End Chapter 2.
- Hate to disappoint, but Chapter 3 is honestly the least interesting to me personally, so this’ll be brief compared to the previous chapters
- You spend a lot of time hunting down this much larger conspiracy, including Hunter specifically. There's a lot of betrayal and secret reveals. (It's not tedious by any stretch of the imagination, but the story beats definitely don't stick in my head as well as the first two chapters, even after two playthroughs.)
- you go to Voss and, in order to get into a Voss-only archive, get married to a person you just met before almost immediately leaving the planet (and your new spouse) behind. this is never mentioned again.
- you get hold of a holorecording from the Star Cabal, the big conspiracy. problem: the holorecording contains a trap for the brain-enhanced Watchers, and now half of Intelligence is in a vegetative state. this is not optimal.
- partially as a result of this, Intelligence basically gets dissolved, which is Not Great because it puts you right under the thumb of yet another asshole Sith lord
- the Watchers are recovering, though, so that’s something. Watcher Two, now Keeper (the old Keeper got promoted), contacts you so you can keep working on this Star Cabal thing.
- you get intentionally captured so the Star Cabal can torture you and you can “break” and give them false information to lead them into a trap. you are immediately afterward expected to get back to work like nothing happened. this is never mentioned again.
- You track the Star Cabal to their base, way out in the Unknown Regions iirc, and infiltrate it during a meeting of the top agents.
- murder time 2: electric boogaloo (well, more like murder time 45, to be honest, but shh it’s fine)
- You fight the Star Cabal guys, chase Hunter through the whole place, and finally corner him.
- (Salt warning ahead on my part for the next story beat, if you can call it that.)
- Hunter, when beaten, reveals what I personally think is the most bullshit stupid reveal in the entire game: he is actually a she, and has been using a stealth field generator (or something similar) to change his/her appearance the entire time. There are multiple interpretations of this - "he's trans" is my least favorite, sorry-not-sorry, because a) it's pretty clear she still considers herself a woman and Hunter is just a convenient persona, and also b) a clearly predatory man is absolutely horrid representation as far as playing into harmful stereotypes about trans people, thanks. Personally, my rather cynical interpretation is that they wanted one more shock value reveal at the end of the storyline and I guess couldn't come up with anything better. It's my least favorite thing in the whole IA storyline.
- anyway, that's not really important. I just needed to be mad about it for a minute. ignore me. moving on
- The important part is this: what you gain from the Star Cabal's base is an item called the Black Codex, an ancient piece of technology with the power to erase all records of a person's existence.
- Unless you are very stubborn about it the Agent’s reaction to this is basically “oh thank fuck I’m freeeeeeeeee” and you fly off into the hyperspace sunset with your crew, giving middle fingers to the Sith whose grip you’re escaping all the way. which, really, who can blame you.
And that’s the Imperial Agent storyline, folks. Roll credits. I’ll probably do the Bounty Hunter storyline next while it’s still fresh in my mind, but I could also do the Sith Warrior storyline probably if y’all’re more interested, vote now on your phones.
#unfortunately I don’t remember jack shit from the Jedi Knight storyline#so until i finish replaying it y'all're just gonna have to hold your horses on that one#swtor#imperial agent#drunk history swtor#i have the original much more serious version of me summarizing that first scene with kothe in drafts btw#should anyone want to see it#it's the version where i actually tried to get across to someone who'd never played the game the absolute horror of that scene#and was; i think; fairly successful#the notes on the sith inquisitor post have finally slowed down so i think it's time to post this one
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The Fourth Book I Read In the Dark: Of Expectations and Other Relatabilities
Of Gryphons and Other Monsters by Shannon McGee
Hey, guys, sooooo...this is aaaawwwkward. I wrote 95% of this review when I wrote the other Books I Read in the Dark series for the blog, but the ADHD hit me and COVID was still you know...a thing! So I am gonna post this review, finished of course, OH, but also pay extra close attention to the conclusion alright! Hmm...this is a bit like a time capsule...here are my concentrated thoughts from 6 months ago while I was slightly delirious on books and darkness. So go forth and uh yeah this one is...you can just feel the feral “I haven’t had access to proper internet so I’ve been curled in the corner like Gollum with my books” energy coming off it so...enjoy?
Okay, so yeah, I really didn’t have a reason to end my last review that way I just wanted to, so sue me for injecting a little excitement into a series of posts about me literally sitting in my house reading nonstop for 2 ½ days, my reviews my rules. Back to manufacturing my own excitement shall we!
It’s Day 2! I’ve just finished my last library book, whatever will I do! I could always reread The Neverending Story for the 1,273rd time, but I have a need. A need for GAY! I rack my brain, there has to be a solution. My town is without power, my local library won’t be open, but then it hits me. It’s so simple! It’s meant to be really! Like the universe knew this was coming and it made sure I was prepared! Like a prepper stockpiling mental SPAM for my stimulus needing ADHD riddled brain! I have an entire shelf of books that I haven’t read yet! Way back in Clexacon 2019 my best friend (Lookin at you @justalifelongphase) gave me way too much money from missed birthdays and Christmases all at once before the con started because the world has deemed it impossible for us to live geographically close to one another. Anyway, I went a little book-buying-crazy and have not had the time or opportunity to read any of them since then. Their time has finally come!
I figured after going full whimsy with The Lost Coast and sci-fi superhero with Dreadnought and Sovereign why not take a dip into more traditional fantasy, also this one was first in line on the shelf, yay for not having to actually make a decision! No more dawdling, let's get right into the review!
Unicorn Rating:
Blurb: Taryn always loves and hates gryphon season. She finds the lesser gryphons more cute than anything but the ever present fear that a greater gryphon might be just out of sight is terrifying, and this gryphon season proves to be the one that will change her and her families lives forever! Just let a girl herd her sheep in peace!
Disclaimer: I will try my best to not spoil anything from the book, but my book loving rambles may give more away than a traditional review. Here we go! Ramble time!
Review:
I genuinely enjoyed this book. It took me a bit longer to get through it than the others, but I think that was a combination of three things: A. I was starting to feel the fatigue of reading so much in such a short amount of time. B. Our local Wal Mart had power restored on Day 3 and our entire household went on a trip to buy non-perishable food stuffs and I was like a solitary confinement prisoner being let out into the yard for the first time in months when my phone picked up a wifi signal and it was a bit hard to get back into the swing of reading after talking to other humans, even virtually, that weren’t imaginary or in my head. C. Our power was finally restored on the afternoon of Day 3 so yet again I was inundated with the draw of technology and all of my friend-os I hadn’t talked to, but the book had drawn me in enough I did the most unmillienial thing and left my phone in a different room to charge while I finished this book before going back to the land of technology and interwebs. That should tell you something.
McGee was able to write this story in a way that pulls you in so you care about what happens to these characters and this little mountain town. You learn just enough about the world to understand where they fit within the overall weave of it, but you aren’t given a Tolkein-esc dissertation on the world lore. I felt the worries and the fears. I was concerned when the routines had to change. I mean she made me care about the freaking sheep! Sheep, people! One of the reasons I think this works so well is we are so firmly rooted in the head of our protagonist, Taryn. Imma use that lovely bridge I just built to skip right on over the plot section of the review to get to the characters first, don’t worry we’ll circle back round to the plot. I always do, but I just wanna talk about my newest set of brain babies.
Taryn is a character that, if the title of this post is anything to go by, I found very very relatable. Now I know relatability can be pretty subjective, some people can latch onto something with the all consuming, “It me!” While others just stare on dead eyed not understanding the appeal. I feel like Taryn could be that kind of protagonist. You are either going to really relate to her or you won’t understand where she is coming from at all. I obviously fall in the former category. I was the quintessential middle child, still am really, though my relationship with my parents has shifted now that I’m an adult. More mutual respect and friendship than parent to child. I always did my best to pick up the slack, if ever there was any, and just tried my best to be as little of a burden as possible to my parents. I see so much of that aspect of myself in Taryn and how she sees her place at the farm and even in the town, she has her place and her role, but those expectations are heavy. One of those expectations being that she will inevitably get married and help take over the farm from her parents and have kids to continue the line. The fact she finds the lesser gryphons that flock near the farm far cuter than any of the local boys that she will eventually have to choose from to fulfill that inevitable expectation is just...sad at best and down right tragic at worst. And her family doesn’t help matters either. They won’t let her forget that she will have to settle down with one of these local boys, a boy who would make a good husband and take good care of her and the farm. She knows that, logically, but she also wants to be in love, like her parents, and she just doesn’t feel like that for any of the boys in town. She doesn’t know how to make those two things line up. It’s a struggle between her head, the obligation of what she has to do, and her heart, what she really wants for her future, to be happy in doing what she has to do. Wow, I went off a little bit there, but this was my long winded way of saying I have never read a protagonist that really captured the utter confusion of being raised in a heteronormative environment without it being drenched in internalized homophobia and fear. Protagonists like this seem to always know something is off but just don’t have the words for it so they just hide it because they know it’s “different” and out of the norm, but Taryn is just livin’ her sheep herding life and ain’t got no time for these boy crazy fools. She knows her mom wants her to find a good boy to court her so she can marry someday but she’s still young. She’ll think about that tomorrow, and she just repeats that ad infinitum. The thought that maybe she doesn’t fancy any of the boys because well...girls...never even occurred to her. It's not how things are done in this small mountain town, not because of homophobia reasons, but just stubborn tradition reasons. We are even told there is a gay couple living in town who are staples in the overall dynamics in town, instrumental even, but the idea of having a lineage, being able to pass your land down is so ingrained no wonder poor Taryn was so in the dark about her own probable gayness till it slapped her in the face. As someone who was raised in a medium sized Oklahoma town...girl I feel you. I was 22 and in the middle of Appalacia, way up in the mountains for college when my gay awakening popped up and said “Hello!” Everything that never quite made sense in my life came into perfect clarity. Not quite what happened with Taryn, but the arrival of Aella surely helped, as pretty girls are want to do. Oh look a segue, good, cause I could talk about Taryn for literal hours and I’ve already gabbed about her too much for this review.
Aella, you smooth motherfucker. Like I wish I could possess a quarter of the smoothness that you do. Like I’m lucky to string sentences together around a pretty girl, but here you are just strutting about being the smoothest of smooth. Honestly, I just...I can’t with you Aella. On a serious note though Aella is a character that served as showing Taryn a glimpse at the world beyond her small mountain town, as much as she had no desire to leave, unlike her brother. Nope, sit down, we’ll get to you, Michael! Oh, we’ll get to you. She’s traveled and has stories from all over and she is fairly open about the fact that she only likes girls, but she doesn’t have land, responsibilities, and a family line to continue. She just gets to live her life the way she choses. And y’all know I am a sap for the hard dark characters that are totally softies underneath that rough exterior. I think Aella was a great foil to Taryn and great at showing her what she could have if she was willing to leave, to stretch what she was allowed to wish for, but of course the biggest issue with her wishing for anything was...Michael.
Michael was such an interesting character. I loved him. I hated him. I wanted to hug him. I wanted to punch him. Again as with the town and the people of the town I was so deep seated in Taryn’s head and feelings that her conflicted feelings about Michael and how he was acting became my feelings on the matter. Not enough to not separate a tad and see what was coming or at least try to predict it as I always do when reading, but emotionally I was right with Taryn the whole way. The one thing that really pushed Michael from just a character I was conflicted about to one I really wanna give a swift kick in the nads to, is that he knew. He knew all about Taryn’s absolute lack of romantic inclinations toward any of the boys in town and her doubts that she would ever find someone to love and marry to take over the farm. He was the only person she confided these fears in and he still selfishly followed his own pursuits with little regard to her or her worries. You sir, are a terrible brother and overall a shit human, so sit your ass down and shut your mouth.
The plot for this book was so embroiled with the characters and their journeys that I can’t talk on it much but the twists at the end and the final climax was very satisfying for me and left me excited to dig into the next book. Also something of note that I didn’t talk about in the character section cause I felt it was dragging on a touch, I really only talked in depth on our three biggest players but there is a very colorful cast of side characters ranging from Taryn’s nervous pony to the boy-who-cried-gryphon neighbor no one can stand to the troupe of hunters led by Aella’s mother to Taryn’s best friend Nia, all of whom play important parts in building that sense of caring about the people of this town and the town itself, which in turn made me deeply care about the outcome of the plot at the heart of the story. And the sheep! The god damn sheep!
One thing I do want to say before my final thoughts is that whoever designed the cover of this book in a genius because as I dug into the story I found myself constantly closing it to spout off about theories of what I thought was happening on the cover and what it all meant, I was kind of reader fatigue delirious for most of those theories but some of them I was right! I might have reenacted the Captain Holt “Vindication” gif IRL just because it felt too good not to. I just love when a “cool” cover turns out to be so much more than that once you’re “in the know”. So yeah, now y’all know to pay attention for that.
My final thoughts on this book are pretty positive. I can tell the author is building us toward so much more, hence the name of the series, Taryn’s Journey, and it feels like it. This is only the beginning and I honestly can’t wait to take the next steps with her.
Queer Wrap-up:
Hey it’s me from the future...present...whatever...so, this is when I stopped writing the review six months ago and there is a reason for that. I, kind of, agonized over what to rate this book on the scale. Multiple times having to call my brother and go back and forth just to then repeat the same arguments with myself as soon as I got off the phone. Now why was this such a hard terrible no good awful back and forth well...SPOILER WARNING...seriously anything past this point will be spoiling some character beats for the majority of the book...okay? We understand one another. DANGER ALL YE WHO ENTER HERE...or you know scroll on.
So, Taryn is never confirmed to be queer in the text of this book. Now you would have to be wearing the tightest hetero goggles in known history not to see the heavy HEAVY subtext saying THIS BITCH GAY! It’s basically a full grown elephant painted sparkly rainbow trying to hide behind a dead shrub aka not hiding at all. I so desperately wanted to give this book four of those darling unicorns but in this rare case I just don’t think I can justify it. We have a protagonist that is still figuring herself out, which is amazing that we get to see that and go on the journey with her. Some of the things Taryn does and thinks are queer coded as hell, especially if it involves Aella who is explicitly gay on the page, but Taryn herself never express whether she herself is queer. Which, fair, other really important and traumatizing things were going on and I love that about her as a character, she didn’t meet Aella and suddenly that was all she could think about. Aella, of course, is representation who I’m counting because even though she shows obvious interest (you smooth motherfucker) in Taryn she is so much more than just a love interest and her character isn’t just boiled down to her sexuality. Now in this wrap up I’m also including the doctor and his husband in the town. They are very minor characters but they give us interesting insights into the town and the people. They are accepted and treated well in town even if some do almost, pity isn’t the right word, but they seem sad that they won’t be able to have any kind of legacy or lineage. As I said in the review it’s not homophobia it’s being stuck in your ways and it’s an interesting take.
Links:
Shannon McGee Website
The Storygraph
Okay so this one is a bit of a mess. Pieces of it were written 6 months apart and most of it was written while I was kind of delirious but hey at least I can say it’s honest. I still stand by everything my past self wrote and I still really enjoy thinking and talking about this book and am excited for whenever I get around to reading the sequel to continue on Tayrn’s journey with her. This is a book I probably would never have known even existed without ClexaCon and trolling through artist alley for literally every table that had books on them. I guess, moral of the day is maybe you won’t just find great books on library shelves but on unassuming convention tables too and it never hurts to look. Trust me, I’m a lesbrarian.
Oh bet you thought this post was over. I did the sign off and everything but oh no no! I have some info and such to impart. I am WELL AWARE these reviews have been fairly inconsistent to down right sporadic. Well, this is just a little info dump letting you guys know I am gonna be putting up one more review after this one that I wrote ages ago and I mean AGES (think years, as in multiple) and just never got around to posting and then the old blog is probably gonna be going through a PLANNED dormancy while some pretty big stuff is coming down the pike. You may notice visual changes and other stuff before anything else is announced but just keep an eye out. To quote the Fates from Hercules, “It’s gonna be big!”
Okay now for the actual sign off, I got shit to do! No one look behind the curtain, it’s a surprise!
#Of Gryphons and Other Monsters#Shannon McGee#resident lesbrarian#3 unicorns#questioning girl#lesbian#heavy wlw romantic subtext#ya novel#ya fantasy#go to your local library#but wear a mask#and wash your hands#and stay 6 feet apart#be safe out there guys gals and nonbinary pals
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When You Wake
I literally cannot believe I wrote this. This was originally started to celebrate Yaku’s birthday (happy belated, my love), and to satisfy the requests for a Noya/Yaku threesome. Uh, don’t come for me. I couldn’t find inspiration in the normal hq world, so we’re making it weird. If y’all thought Between the Lines was long, this monstrosity is 13.2k words. 13,200 words, with a shameful, side amount that is smut. Literally, this is all just plot.
ear candy list is, surprisingly, on the smaller side.
⤞ Revenga - System of A Down
⤞ Violent Pornography - System of A Down
⤞ Question! - System of A Down
pairing: Yaku/Reader/Noya
w a r n i n g s//TW: rape, murder, blood consumption, mentions of getting roofied, gore, blood from wounds, supernatural AU, revenge, temporarily mute reader, reader is converted to a vampire without consent, dubcon, death, spitroasting, dirty talk, senpai kink. PLEASE read through these warnings over and over until it is clear to you that this is not going to be an easy read. The reader literally goes on a revenge spree.
⤞ THIS. IS NOT. AN EASY. READ.
Now that you have been thoroughly warned, enjoy.
The way media and films and television glorified and romanticized college parties never could have prepared you for the fateful encounter in the alleyway on a muggy August evening. Primarily, college parties were depicted as fun—drunk nights on the weekends with your girlfriends, maybe hook up with that cute boy from chemistry that somehow ended up with you grinding on him on the dance floor. Though, in some genres, college parties end up with the protagonist roofied and raped and follows how the heroine spirals and recovers. But it only was supposed to happen in the movies, right?
It wasn’t supposed to end with you halfway to death, knocking on Hell’s door with blood pooling around your lifeless body in a barely lit, bleak alleyway. It wasn’t supposed to end with warbles of light fading in and out of your vision as cars passed you by, unknowing there was someone in the alleyway between a closed down butcher shop and a florist who had already gone home for the evening. You were only in your early twenties with only two more years of university to compete—it wasn’t supposed to end yet.
“We can’t just leave her here.”
“I think she’s too far gone, Yaku. We were too late.”
The voices swirling around you were unfamiliar, or at least from what you could gather. In your condition, it was impossible to discern them in the first place—were they even real voices? They sounded entirely too angelic from what you could process in your catatonic state. Maybe they weren’t; maybe death had taken you without your knowledge and the jury that decided whether or not your soul would ascend to heaven was passing their judgment on you.
“I can save her, Noya.” One of the voices, presumably this Yaku character snarls back with urgency. It is the last thing you hear before your limp body is pulled from the concrete. The movement, regardless of how delicate, causing more blood to rush from your open wounds and draining any ounce of consciousness from your mind. “You mind trying to collect the fallout?”
Nishinoya, though shaking his head, gives a subtle grin that cannot be seen in the dead of the night. He pulls out a large mason jar from the satchel he’s carrying and places the mouth of the jar where blood is pouring out profusely from a knife wound. The man collecting the blood knew entirely too well that once his mate sets his mind to something, there was no changing it. Not that it served as a recurring issue; if anything, Noya was grateful for Yaku’s stubbornness considering it was that exact trait of his that had given the former his second chance at life.
The two of them move swiftly, trying to make it back to their hidden mansion, that was quite a distance away, in secret. Yaku is doing all that he can to make sure not to disturb your body so as not to open any wounds further that could force you to bleed out and meet the grim reaper. He wasn’t a very pleasant creature, but that was a story for another day. At the same time, Nishinoya is almost fighting to keep the same steadfast pace while simultaneously holding the now half full mason jar just under the knife wound. The blood was beginning to thicken, turning from bright red to a deep crimson as it oxidizes.
The moment they enter their private garden, Nishinoya busts down the door to their home with expertise, alerting the other members of their clan. “Akaashi!” He screeches, his voice bellowing out in decibels that should not be used unless trying to project a voice in an amphitheater with no microphone. Thank omniscient beings for noise cancelling enchantments. “We need you!” An almost timid, young looking man enters the foyer where Noya is still collecting blood and Yaku is holding your limp body in his arms.
“So that’s where you two have been,” Akaashi deadpans, unfazed by the steadily decaying girl. “Bring her to my room. You can store what blood you’ve gathered there while I remove the knife and get her patched up.” Though calm, the three of them move at breakneck speeds, laying you face down on an operating table while Akaashi suits up. From what he can tell, this was going to be a real mess, considering how deep the knife is. The three of them knew what was to come and what their designated roles in this moment were—Nishinoya was to separate the blood he had gathered from your body and ration them into IV bags, while Yaku was provide suction in case of a bleed out.
“We can save her, can’t we?” Yaku asks quietly, tools in hand.
“That will depend on her will to fight,” Akaashi says quietly, half due to concentration, half because he genuinely does not have a valid answer. “You’ve done this time and time again, Yaku. If anyone is going to save her, it’s going to be you.”
Upon coming to, the only muscles in your body that can move are your eyelids. Peeling them back as much as you can muster, you notice the only light filtering into whatever room you are currently residing in is coming from the blaring moonlight through an open window. The shadows around you make up areas and shapes that you are entirely unfamiliar with, causing you to sit up impulsively to make sense of your surroundings. A mistake on your part, as you are immediately met with a searing pain in your ribs. With further inspection from your droopy eyes, you learn that your torso is entirely bare, save for the copious amounts of medical grade bandages and gauze around your breasts and stomach. Blood pooled somewhere along your left shoulder blade where the pain felt the worst.
“You shouldn’t try to sit up right now.” The same voice you faintly remember from the alley, the one that didn’t want to leave you, before blacking out calls out from across the bedroom. The room is quite large from what you could tell and his smooth voice seems to be leagues away. “Lay back down before you bleed out again—I’ll change your bandages.” From the shadows, a man whom you presume to be Yaku emerges before you, perfect pale skin and sandy brown locks nearly reflecting in the moonlight as he approaches. His face, while incredibly handsome, is blank and is strictly business as he saunters near. Even as he is gingerly tearing off the tight bindings around you with next to no effort, his face remains nonplussed. Even as he washes the dried, crusty blackened blood off your bare chest, nothing. “Do you remember anything?” Yaku’s voice is quiet and somber as he asks his question. He takes your silence as a no.
Your mind is a hazy smog, trying to recall any type of memory at all. Rather than actual imagery, you see a white light when you close your eyes—you see colors you don’t remember seeing before, you hear crying. You hear your name. Not just your first name or a nickname either, you hear your entire given name along with your birthday, even the time of birth.
Any attempt to recall memories is interrupted by a sharp pain. You suck in a breath as Yaku tries to lift your arm to wrap the fresh bandages around your torso, causing him to grimace ever so slightly. This task was a bit easier for him when you were still unconscious, but nonetheless he is glad you’re awake. When the pain subsides, you peel your eyelids back once again, staring at the man sitting at the edge of the bed in wonder. Why was he tending to your wounds? How did he fit into the story? “You needn’t worry about that right now, [name],” he murmurs quietly, reintroducing the same delicate tone you heard before blacking out in the alley. Yaku can tell you’re wondering how he knew what to respond with and how he knew your name but, after a small deliberation, he decides it’s best not to overwhelm you right now. “Get some rest, little one,” he speaks again, “I’ll be here when you wake.” Before you know it, you’re out like a light once again.
Yaku exits his and Noya’s shared bedroom to dispose of the sullied bandages, only to be greeted to the sight of his mate leaning against the bannister closest to their room. “How’s she doing?” Yaku’s lips tighten, the seam becoming a hard line as his grimace deepens.
“She doesn’t remember anything but when I asked her if she did...”
“What?” Noya presses, perturbed at the silence. Very few things in their lives rendered Yaku speechless.
“She started seeing memories of her birth.” The two shorter leaders of the clan meander their way down the grandiose staircase in silence, each step accompanied by the dramatic chimes of a grand piano coming from the foyer. The music stops when they reach the bottom of the staircase, Sugawara pausing his fingers and quirking a brow at the couple. It was a rare occurrence to see both of them, or Nishinoya in the very least, look so morose.
“What’s got you guys looking so down? You look like someone just died.” The musician muses. Sugawara Koushi always did have the most twisted sense of humor—that was partially the reason that Yaku had kept him around. The other primary reason was solely for bragging rights and an inside joke between the clan because no matter how many times Sugawara introduced himself as Beethoven or Bach, people assumed that they all just meant he was talented. Not that it was literal and Sugawara was just a name he’d adopted when he earned another century of life.
“Ha ha,” Nishinoya drawls satirically, for both himself and for Yaku. The latter excuses himself, parting ways because he knows he can’t handle conversation right now. “Come on, Suga, that’s not funny. Yaku’s already taking this really hard and if we lose her...”
“Humans die all the time, Nishi. A conversion isn’t a guaranteed shot at a second life and Yaku knows that so why is he—“
“Because she was found just like I was. Wrong place at the wrong time and it ended with...” the shorter of the two can no longer find the words to speak. It didn’t matter how many centuries old everyone in the clan was, it didn’t matter that they had watched plagues take countless lives or even bared witness to some of Jack the Ripper’s victims—it was a different monster entirely to genuinely watch a person become prey to another human. “I hope she makes it through, if only to rip out the guys throat that stabbed her.”
Three months had passed since you had first woken up. Strength is returning to you little by little, though not enough for you to hold consciousness for more than a few minutes a day. Regardless, Yaku is relieved to see you making some form of progress, to see that you’re somewhat handling the conversion well. The head of the clan was almost always present when you did awake, though there were instances in which his partner, Nishinoya, had been the one to greet you.
Nishinoya was much more boisterous than his other half—much more talkative and, considering you haven’t found the strength to speak quite yet, that was entirely okay with you. You learned that Yaku and Nishinoya had been together a very long time and Yaku had saved his life ages ago, as the latter phrased it. In admiration, Noya mentions his partner’s abundance of patience—a skill that he himself lacked—and determination to see justice being served had swayed the younger of the two to continuously stand alongside him. Through these little vignettes of their life, however, Noya makes it a point to acknowledge the fact that he was once almost too overbearing for his senior, often intimidating him with just how open and blunt he was. “Nishi, are you boring her with details of our mundane life?” Yaku asks bemusedly as he enters the room you’d been resting in.
“Hey, we aren’t boring. I’m not boring you, am I?” Noya looks to your face, your expression not giving much away save for the light in your barely live eyes. It was far from mundane—if anything, hearing the stories made you so curious considering from just barely glancing with the two, they seemed to be a strange couple.
“We are,” Yaku confirms, though as to what, you aren’t sure. You were certain you hadn’t said anything aloud, considering you practically can’t. “Let’s just say I can hear your thoughts. It’s how we’ve been communicating with you.” The head of clan saunters over casually, sitting at the edge of the mattress opposite to his partner. Both of their rich, golden irises are gazing at you, gauging a reaction from you as he shares this bit of information. Weird, was the only way for you to describe it. Though Yaku didn’t need to read your mind to know that; the slightly panicked look on your face gave away your thoughts.
“Don’t think we don’t know about those vivid wet dreams you have of us—“
“Yū, you weren’t supposed to tell her that!”
“What? We’re all adults here—“
“Nishi, get out,” Yaku covers his face in utter horror, even more so as his partner exits the room laughing as he does so. Shameless Noya. The door closes, leaving you and Yaku alone—were he able to go red out of embarrassment, he probably would have. “I-I am so sorry about him.” Testing out the information that the man beside you supplied moments ago, you reassure him that it’s fine—that you have no control over your dreams and that he probably doesn’t have a way to turn off this strange ability. For a moment, he’s relieved because you seem to be accepting everything with grace thus far; maybe telling you the truth wasn’t going to be the worst case scenario.
But the thought of the truth makes Yaku hesitate—there was no way you were ready to handle the entirety of the truth. At the moment, you could barely handle your weekly check-ups with Akaashi—the household doctor. After a formal introduction, you learned that Akaashi was the one who patched up your wounds when you were first brought to the little mansion. From what you gathered, he was quiet and direct, kind even, but you hated the weekly visits. Not only was Yaku carrying you rather painful, as you’re still recovering from your injuries, but Akaashi had to do regular blood transfusions because, according to the young doctor that you swore could not have already completed medical school and residency, you had lost a lot of blood during the incident.
An incident in which you still can’t recall.
“It’ll come to you,” Yaku says morosely, probably responding in accordance to your thought. The man beside you gets up from the bed, holding his arms open to you, silently asking for permission to pick you up. “Sorry, I’ll try to be more gentle.” His arms are cold as he lifts you up, but all you can focus on is the throbbing in your back as he moves you. A sharp intake of breath leaves your lungs as Yaku supports you physically, adding gentle words of encouragement because he can almost feel how much pain you’re in. Every step down the steep staircase adds another metaphorical bruise to your tender skin, a small groan leaving your throat each time. And while you’re not uncomfortable with the idea of being in Yaku’s arms, you’re grateful when you’re laid down in Akaashi’s office along the leather exam seat.
“How are you feeling today, [name]?” The young doctor asks as he preps you for your blood transfusion. Much to your surprise, you feel hungry—ravenous, even—like you hadn’t eaten a meal in months. Maybe you hadn’t; it wouldn’t be that ridiculous to consider since your memory was a little shoddy.
“You’ll feel better after the transfusion,” Yaku reassures from the chair he’s sitting in beside the exam bed, “we’ll get some food in your system before we start your physical therapy.” There’s an interesting intonation in the way he speaks this, you notice. Like there’s an underlying joke or hidden agenda that you don’t quite understand, but at the same time, the strange phrasing doesn’t trigger your fight-or-flight system in any capacity. If anything, it just seems that Yaku wants to help you regain strength as best you can.
Though, that was currently proving to be a challenge as well. While you weren’t entirely sure how long ago your injuries occurred, you knew a decent amount of time had to have passed. One of your first check-up appointments with Akaashi led to the explanation of the muscle atrophy in your legs from lack of use. Once you slowly became acclimated to being awake for more than just a few minutes a day, Daichi was introduced to you as your physical therapist. He was another enigma—entirely too young to be as experienced as he was in his field, but you decided against questioning it—temporarily mute or not.
Being mute was another issue that was taking much longer than you liked. You hated only being able to communicate through Yaku’s inexplicable talent of being able to read your mind. There were many occasions in which you wanted to ask Akaashi about your condition and how bad of a state you had been brought to him in; how you wanted to ask Sugawara how he’d learned to play such a vast variety of melodies so expertly; how you wanted to tell Nishinoya that every time he tried to feed you a soup or something, it tasted foul and metallic no matter how fresh it was.
You’d have to wait until you found your voice again.
After your check-in with Akaashi, Yaku brings you to Daichi’s office just down the hallway. “Hey, there’s our little fighter.” Daichi was probably the kindest out of everyone in the household. He had a warmth to him that seemed to contrast his icy fingers when he’d hold and guide you for your therapy sessions—a little uncanny that everyone in this mansion had freezing finger tips. Maybe everyone had poor blood circulation?
From the opposite end of the room, Yaku stifles a laugh by biting his cheek. Glad to know that your deconstructed concept of time hadn’t waned on your sense of humor. Meanwhile, Daichi lays you gingerly on a mat on the ground with you back flat as he wraps a resistance band around one of his ankles, as well as your own. “Alright, [name], I’m gonna help you get your leg up and I want to see you pull your leg up as high as you can go, understood?” Five didn’t seem like a very large number, but for now it was the goal. If you could at least lift your legs five times, it was progress considering the severe muscle atrophy in your legs.
Some days, it was difficult for Yaku to sit with you through therapy. He can see the way you wince in pain because you’re trying to relearn and rebuild your muscle groups; other times he just wanted someone, anyone, to blurt out the truth about the situation and hope that it inspires you to push yourself to heal. Some days, it was difficult because Yaku found himself just wanting to hold you in his bed that you’d taken over while the two of you plot out the revenge you didn’t even know you needed. But it wasn’t always bad. There were days, like today, where the progress on your therapy was going much better than anyone in the clan anticipated. There were days where Yaku would ask what you remembered about...anything, and you would have some form of answer for him.
On those days, Yaku began to realize that your memories were coming in chronological order. From the first time you sat up or crawled, to your first word even. In fact, Yaku’s favorite moment that he’s witnessed thus far was watching your father teach you to take your very first steps—it seemed to recur during your therapy sessions, as if subconsciously encouraging you to try to walk again. Maybe that’s why today, you were able to provide Daichi with double the repetitions that he asked for—a sure sign that strength and muscle were returning to your legs. But even with what progress you’ve made so far, Yaku makes it a point to carry you back to your room and lay you back in bed to rest. As always, Yaku tucked you in as he spoke, “get some sleep, little one. I’ll be here when you wake,”
For weeks on end, dreams stop becoming dreams. Per usual, Yaku awaits in the corner opposite of the bed where you rest, allowing your memories-turned-dreams to flood his mind. Each night, they’re progressively becoming more and more clear—you’re able to recall outfits that you’d worn twenty years ago with perfect detail, scars and scrapes that your friends had, even when that one sock was in the corner of your closet from when you were seven. But the clearer these chronological dreams became, the less frequently you were waking up and it was beginning to worry the head of the clan. While you were still obtaining your weekly blood transfusions to help sustain your life, it seemed to be that they were no longer providing you with enough energy to move past your current stage of recovery. “Yaku, she needs to start feeding,” Akaashi had instructed him during a consultation.
“I still haven’t told her—“
“Come on, man, it’s been almost eight months,” the house doctor groans. There was no reason to coddle you anymore as your life-threatening wounds had already healed for the most part. Sure, there was still discomfort from your broken ribs but even those had almost entirely healed over; your physical therapy sessions and rehabilitation with Daichi were going rather well but, at this point, if you didn’t start getting more substance in your body, this would be the end of the line for you. Akaashi had advised him this for weeks now, but Yaku still hesitated. “We’ve got to tell her.”
“I know, I know. I just—“ the sandy brunette ruffles his claws through his mussed locks in frustration, “I think her power is developing. And I’m afraid if we drop the bomb on her now, it’s going to halt or hinder that progress.”
“Either tell her or feed her,” Akaashi bites, “if you don’t, she’s not going to have any power because she’s going to starve to death.” With that, Akaashi walks away because he has nothing left to argue at this point. While he may be the youngest of the brood, this made Akaashi the most volatile of the group. More often than not, he was relatively kind and patient, timid even, as he was in his human life, but also very stern and strict—all of it coming from a place of love. And Yaku, knowing the tremendous amounts of emotional pain that the former had received, the leader of the clan dare not disrespect him.
Rather than making it an argument, Yaku roams around the lodge to grab a couple bags of O negative out of storage before heading back to his room. Much to his surprise, Nishinoya is sitting at the edge of the bed already, a slight look of panic washing over his features. “Yaku, I think something is wrong.” Without another word, the creature in question hands the bags of blood to his mate before resting his forehead against yours—a sure fire way to make sure that the mental images he picked up from you were pristine and uninterrupted as you dreamed—ignoring the cold sweat beading on your forehead.
You were at the Pike house. It was the first week of the new college semester and your roommates had convinced you to tag along to a frat party they were invited to. The night was going along exactly like a corny romantic comedy—you had locked eyes with a man from across the dance floor. He was sweet—much kinder than others you had met that night. He grabbed you drink after drink, but your memory begins to go fuzzy after that despite being able to recall memories of your own birth or the stupid girl that picked on you when you were twelve and even the small pimple on her temple that you figured was probably making her insecure. So if you were able to recall these memories, dreams, whatever they were, with such perfect clarity, why could you not remember leaving that party? Did that mean he had been drugging your drinks? It was entirely possible, considering Pike wasn’t exactly known for their hospitality. You vaguely remember the man holding your hand firmly as the two of you weave and bob around people and being met with the sweltering humidity of a muggy August night and your roommates, Yukie and Kaori, were nowhere to be found.
You were dragged into a dimly lit alleyway, stumbling with every step that the man had nearly carried you by your wrist alone, reeking of trash that had been long overdue for pick up and maybe even rotting carcasses. It was difficult to tell considering the drugs you assume that had been placed in your system and it was even more difficult to recall the memories. Bits and pieces of your memory were coming back in patches—though the face of the man that had brought you there was not one of them. Nor were any of his friends that had joined in, appearing at the opening of the alleyway. You remember the sound of tearing fabric, salacious laughter of the group of men surrounding your body. You remember feeling searing pain as one held a knife to your throat, warning you that he would slit your throat if you tried to scream.
The threat was replaced in the form of one of the frat boys ramming a half-hard cock down your throat, knife still in place along the jugular vein, while every orifice and inch of your skin had been violated. Vaguely, you remember trying to bite down on the cock in your mouth and run away. The one that threatened to kill you had missed your throat when you ran and threw the knife into your back instead. Foul screeches of demeaning slander left their mouths as they kicked your ribs in at full force, as if the knife deep in your back wasn’t bad enough.
You remember them leaving your bare, naked body in the alley for death to take you.
You remember their faces.
Awakening with a start, you sit up abruptly, only to fall back into the pillow with a resonant clacking noise followed by a dull throb to your forehead. Yaku recoils, mostly out of shock rather than pain—maybe laying his head on yours wasn’t his finest moment. “You remember,” he balks after he’s recovered from the impact. You’re trying to scream, no sound leaving your lungs while tears barreled out from your eyes. Remember? Why was that a memory? Why did it have to be a memory?
Nishinoya acts hastily, tearing open one of the O negative packs and draining half the contents into his mouth and holding it there as he shoves Yaku out of the way. The smaller of the two slats his lips over your silently screaming mouth, puncturing a small wound to the inside of your lip with his teeth and letting the blood trickle in the hole. It feels like pudding trying to push through a sieve, the flavor of copper and iron tampered out by an earthy, meat flavor—maybe venison? The desire to scream fades away as well, rather being over taken to have whatever nourishment Noya is giving you to enter you more and more. Out of necessity, you mold your lips over his, sucking hard on his lip while wrapping your arms around him because it just didn’t seem that he could get close enough in this moment. Despite the fingers you have threaded in Nishinoya’s gelled locks, he pulls away with a shit-eating grin, his tongue swiping away at the trail of red liquid dripping from the seam of his lips. “Careful, might make a guy a fall in love with that kinda kiss.”
“M-more,” you croak out, deflecting the younger one’s flirty comment all together. Yaku and Noya’s eyes go wide upon hearing your voice for the first time. The former acts on instinct, downing the remaining contents of the bag in his partner’s hand before reenacting the same gesture as the latter. Yaku’s lips are much softer than his partners—or maybe it’s the quelling of whatever hunger that hadn’t been satiated that eased the desire. With Yaku, his tongue laves against the wound that Noya had made, coaxing the fluid to enter at a much more steadfast, intimate pace. Even well after he was done feeding you, Yaku sucked on your tongue, encouraging you to reciprocate, so as to get every drop. “W-What was t-that?” You pant out brokenly as soon as the two of you break apart. The question startles the two sitting at the edge of the bed—now that you had your voice somewhat back, Yaku no longer needed to communicate for you. That also meant he couldn’t control the flow of responses to not overwhelm you.
“I think it’s time you finally got your answers,” Noya mumbles, treading carefully as he looks at his partner. It was a silent reassurance that, no matter how this scenario proceeded, he would be here to support Yaku. To make you more comfortable, he adjusts the pillows behind you so that your back can rest properly along the headboard.
“M-my d-d-dreams?” Having just rediscovered your voice, it still came out in sharp, staccato-like whimpers, but the boys weren’t going to discourage you from speaking. Much like everything else Yaku had done in his life, he had done with patience and your recovery and rehabilitation were no different. But your throat was still raw and it still hurt to speak—thankfully with your mind rushing like a bullet train, Yaku was able to grasp the entirety of your question.
“I think they’re more memories than dreams.” His words come out like a condemning nail in a coffin—like a doctor telling you you only have a few months left to live—because that means everything you recalled from Pike house, the drinks, the party, the alley, all of it was real. “Noya and I found you that night barely clinging to life. Naked, soaked in blood and semen. You died that night, [name].” As he speaks, his cold finger tips traced along your breast until you feel the throbbing mound of flesh—a scar of where the knife had been thrown into you from the back and exited out the front. “The knife had gone through your aorta. Akaashi spent a long time trying to repair it but was unable to.”
Your body begins to tremble as silent sobs wrack through your body. You died? “S-so how ‘mi h-here?” Yaku looks over at Noya in discernible worry—not because the head was afraid of telling the truth, no. He was afraid how you would react to the truth. His partner looks at him poignantly, mentally reminding him that this was eerily similar to how Noya had reacted when he had learned the truth as well. Yaku’s head bobs in agreement, swallowing his hesitance before speaking again.
“I made you like me. Like the rest of us.” Your brows furrowed in confusion, suspicion even, because there’s no way that he’s saying what you think he’s saying. But rather than offering a verbal response, Yaku holds his hand out towards Noya, in which he places the other bag of O Negative in his palm. While the original plan was to just feed you once again, the second Yaku tears open the bag, the hunger you thought had eased returned at full force. You rip the bag out of his cold hands, elongated claws scratched at you as you do so, before you down the contents like a shotgunned beer before you could realize what you were doing.
“T-This is a joke, right?” You balk, voice clear as day due to the strength returning to your body once again from freshly consumed sustenance. But the tensions have gone down significantly, to the point where Noya feels relief and excuses himself to feed, leaving you in Yaku’s solitary care. Once the two of you are left alone, Yaku can only shake his head as he continues to press on with the truth. This had to be a cruel, sick joke. But it wasn’t funny and you certainly weren’t laughing. Yet Yaku had no reason to lie to you and the snack you had just consumed moments ago was meant to serve as a final nail in the metaphorical coffin to make you understand that he was telling the truth.
“We have been alive for centuries—storytellers dubbing our kind as vampires—but originally, we were simply called the Damned.” Yaku proceeds to go through the history, much like he had with all the others before you, because he feels the need to share the truth, needs to tell you that your death isn’t the end of your life but rather the beginning like it had for all those in clan. The most recent addition to the family was Akaashi. He was less than a century old, compared to the others. Akaashi had been tied to a tree and shot repeatedly, only to watch his lover drown to death, who had been tossed into the ocean before shortly before with a thirty pound weight attached to his ankle with his last few breaths. Yaku and Sugawara were the ones to set his nearly lifeless body free with the head of the clan performing Akashi’s conversion. This lead to the newborn to coming back to slaughter the community that decided to his partner needed to die for being a man in love.
Each of their stories was nearly identical. Sugawara, who apparently has been every major known classical musician in history hiding under the guise of his shapeshifter ability, and Daichi were hanged together for being a homosexual couple after their village had carved unsavory words on their bodies to remind their reincarnations of their sins. Yaku and Noya had saved each of them respectively, and allowed the two of them to go on a rampage to annihilate their executioners.
Lastly, or rather firstly, was Nishinoya himself. As Yaku goes into detail about transforming his partner, he tears up ever so slightly. And as you listen actively with no interruptions, no questions even, as he tells you about how Nishi was wrongly imprisoned for theft and how the other prisoners constantly violated and sodomized his body because he was smaller than the rest; how he ended his own life by ingesting whatever toxic chemicals he could find and how Yaku broke him out of prison to start a new life together. “Speak of the devil and he shall appear,” the aforementioned prisoner re-enters the room, a fragile smile on his thin lips as he takes a seat beside his partner. “So you finally told her?”
“B-but why m-me? Why not just let me die?”
“Do you not want revenge against the assholes that killed you a year ago, [ name ]?” Noya bit before Yaku could jump in. “They’re still alive after what they did to you—how is that fair?!”
A year?
You had died a year ago. How did your family take the news? Your roommates and best friends? Nishi was right—it wasn’t fair at all. Yaku raises a hand towards his partner in attempts to get him to calm down before he got too riled up about the situation and before he could get out the most important question. “I have to know, [ name ], if you want to continue on with this lifestyle or not before we proceed with the real rehabilitation.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You tilt your head to your newfound savior. He said it so nonchalantly, as if learning how to walk or learning that your diet was blood wasn’t rehabilitation.
“Well, we have to teach you how to feed properly so your strength gets back up—unless you just want us to feed you for the rest of your eternal life.” Noya jokes, waggling his eyebrows suggestively in what you’ve come to understand is his typical, joking demeanor.
“I mean, I wouldn’t complain.”
“Noya, can you maybe save the flirting for later?” Yaku grits out—once again slightly mortified. It brings laughter to the man in question; it was like rewatching his own life all over again, seeing him get flustered at the smallest amounts of forward affection. It was endearing, if anything.
“Sure. Let’s get [ name ] healthy first then.”
After coming to terms with your transformation and feeding more regularly, still off of a supply stock that the mansion carried, you were able to attend therapy sessions with Daichi more frequently. And while you hadn’t entirely regained muscle or use of your legs, you were able to at least stay awake more often than not. Rather than being cooped up in the bedroom, you found yourself lounging near the entryway where Sugawara would entertain you with the countless pieces he had written over the years. It was soothing and peaceful and Sugawara’s jovial personality kept you from spiraling into a deeper hole knowing that you died. It was still an insane concept, but the five men in your new home had worked hard to keep you sane. “Ready for your session?” Yaku asks gently as he takes a seat beside you on the luxurious sofa. He’s not as uptight as he was now that you knew the truth, though he still did get flustered when you would openly show affection. Even if it was something as simple as leaning your head on his shoulder like you were now.
“I think so,” doing what you could, you scooted and clambered onto Yaku’s lap, wrapping your arms around his neck firmly while your weakened lower limbs splayed across his lap. He tucks one arm under your knees while the other supports your back, effectively scooping you up and brings you to the kitchen where the blood stock is kept. You quirk a brow at the creature carrying you, knowing you’ve already had at least three bags since you woke up.
“Gotta get your strength up so you can recover faster,” is all he responds with before he sets you down on a bar stool. Yaku tears open the bag of O Negative and, much to your shock, he drinks half the contents without swallowing before his lips are on yours. One of his fangs finds purchase on the inside of your lip, sinking down and creating an opening for the blood to flow in for quicker delivery. Usually, Yaku would only have to feed you like this when you were in a weaker state, so it felt a bit out of place for him to be doing it right now, but it certainly wasn’t unwelcome. While the blood trickles into the wound, Yaku’s tongue swirls with yours intimately, coating the cavern with the liquid and he doesn’t stop until every ounce is clear from both of your mouths.
“Not complaining,” you say slowly, “but is there a particular reason you wanted to feed me instead of just letting my chug the bag?” As you ask your question, Yaku is draining the rest of the contents of the bag into his mouth before pulling you towards him in another kiss. The question is repeating over and over in your head, he can hear it loud and clear, but the other thoughts are spurring him on further. The thoughts of how Yaku’s touch makes you crave more, makes you want to feel his lips along your skin and his large hands gripping your thighs tightly. Sometimes he’s unsure whether or not you conveniently forget that he can read your mind, sometimes he wonders if you let your salacious thoughts run wild on purpose. His chest is heaving, deep intakes of breath are plunging through his nostrils despite the blood being long gone. He doesn’t want to stop but centuries of control are begging him to.
“We’re going somewhere today, after your PT,” Yaku pants out after he pulls away, tilting his head down because he can’t look at you right now—he’s afraid to. He needs to try to dampen whatever feral thoughts are running through your brain so that his own self-control doesn’t just get tossed out the window. “Noya and I are taking you out for your first hunt.”
“Uh, am I ready for that?” Shit, you can’t even walk in your own yet. Yaku laughs, grateful for the reprieve from your sexually charged thoughts when you point out the setback.
“That’s why the extra feeding tonight. I needed to make sure it was in your bloodstream so that you had enough strength for PT and the hunt,” Yaku adjusts you from barstool, scooping you into his arms once again to bring you to the mansion’s back garden. Daichi is standing a short distance away adorning a tight muscle tee and joggers, while Noya and Akaashi are sitting at the small table with cigars in hand. Yaku steadies you in front of Daichi, the latter holding onto your hands to make sure you don’t fall, before the former joins the rest the clan at the table. Sugawara emerges from inside the mansion as well, passing off a cigar to Yaku while lighting his own. It was uncomfortable in some capacity to have everybody watching—you couldn’t help but feel as if you were being critiqued on your performance.
“I’m going to be one step ahead of you, and I won’t let go, okay?” Daichi holds his arms out to give you space to take your first step. You take in a sharp breath, the scent of scent of cigars and pine trees overwhelming your nasal cavity. When did you sense of smell become that strong? With trembling limbs, you cling onto Daichi’s muscular forearms, praying to god you didn’t fall as you took a step forward.
“Hey, look!” Noya cheers from a distance, nudging Yaku in the stomach. “She took a step!” The excitement in his voice was evident because, after months of constant aid, Noya has come to have a soft spot for you almost as much as Yaku does. The two of them are watching, utterly enthralled with the way you’re only moving mere millimeters—but millimeters is better than nothing considering the muscle decay and atrophy that had taken place over the last year.
After the first few steps and curling your toes in blades of grass, your feet begin to relax as you tremble forward. Gripping Daichi with all the strength in your hands, you pick your right foot off the ground and place it forward. “That’s good, [ name ]! Gimme one more,” Daichi, a therapist in more ways than one, encourages you to continue moving, wanting to make sure both legs were receiving equal treatment. You repeat the motion with your left leg, taking two full steps. While not perfect, you kept moving forward with his guidance until his calves hit the stone wall of the garden fountain. Considering where you started, twenty five feet was a tremendous distance to cover. “You did amazing, [ name ].” The vampire holding onto you smiles big, pride swelling in chest like a father praising his daughter for taking first in a beauty pageant.
Yaku and Noya are by your side immediately in celebration, the latter much more overt with it as he’s hugging you and holding you up. “What do you think, Daichi? Is she strong enough to at least witness a hunt?” The former asks. Mentioning the “H” word again perks your ears up because a part of you almost wishes to not have to engage with whatever a hunt entails, but part of you also knows that this is your life now. Everything you thought you knew was no longer valid—this was your rebirth, your awakening.
“I think she’ll be okay if one of you carries her for it—“
“Ooh, I’ll do it!” Noya cheers almost too loudly in your ear as he’s still holding you. Without so much as a chance to offer a rebuttal, you’re swept up into his arms as he stands at full height before glancing at his mate. “Ready to go?” Yaku gives a nod, gripping tightly at the satchel over his shoulder before the three of you are off at breakneck speeds. They’re silent as they travel—perhaps because were they to open their mouths at this speed and velocity, they would be catching a whole lot of bugs in their mouths. To your surprise, the three of you end up outside ten-foot-tall brick walls and a chain link fence.
“This is a...”
“A prison,” Yaku answers simply, as if he were answering with what his favorite color was rather than his favorite meal, “considering our diet, we choose to collect our sustenance from those who do not deserve redemption.” There’s a malignant, dark twist in the headman’s words.
“Personally, I prefer going after the rapists and child molestors. Those bastards deserve to be drained of every ounce of blood.” Noya snarls—you could tell it was personal for him. But how could he tell? Surely it wasn’t just written on placards outside of prison cells.
“Easy. Walk in, ask them what they’re serving time for, and their minds fill in the blanks.” The foreboding you sensed from Yaku deepened even further; deepened to the point where it felt like a magnet drawing your eyes towards your savior. But he looked anything but. Yaku stood merely a few inches taller, his claws sharpening and turning black while red overtook the once golden hues of his irises. You look up at Noya curiously, wondering if he’ll undergo the same sort of transformation, but before you could even question it, the gold in his own eyes had already molded into crimson rings.
The three of you enter the building with ease, aiming for the top floor because, according to Nishi, that was where they kept the worst criminals. It played out exactly as Yaku said it would—ask them what they were imprisoned for and, if they were in captivity under the basis of rape, first or second degree murder, sexual assault, or anything involving a minor, he would sink his fangs into their jugular vein and drain them dry. Though he announces his satisfaction, he remains in this strange form that he has presented you with as Nishinoya passes you off into his arms.
The smaller of the two repeats the same process, taking down two prisoners of his own before taking the satchel off of his partner’s shoulder. Noya continues questioning prisoners, letting Yaku’s power of mind reading acting as the judgment call, before pulling out a small, sharp knife from the satchel and slitting each victim’s throat while holding them downcast like a gavel banging down the rule. As blood fountains from their necks, Nishinoya holds fresh IV bags over the openings to collect whatever comes out like rain. Was this how they ended up getting blood for you to feed over the past year. “Yes,” Yaku answers evenly, looking down at you with his crimson eyes, “but we were hoping to actually teach you how to feed tonight. Are you up for it?” Every nerve in your body seemed to scream no, like you shouldn’t be witnessing these events let alone doing it.
But your guts are telling you yes, yes this is now your way of survival. These men were horrid, their victims needed justice. You needed justice. Giving Yaku a small nod, he gives you instructions while the three of you search for your very first meal. Considering neither your fangs nor claws had grown in, as you were very much still a baby by all intents and purposes, Noya would have to incapacitate your prey for you while you bit the inside of your lip, reopening the same puncture wounds from earlier, to allow easier access for the nutrients to enter your body. Once they were out, Noya would puncture the jugular vein for you, while Yaku dipped you down far enough to feed.
Your lips latched on to the raw skin, hooking your own canines for leverage as you draw the blood from your dinner and the moment the warmth seeped into the opening, all doubts about what you were doing had flown out the window. You adjusted the way you’re sitting on your victim, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders as you continuously sucked every drop of life from him. “Did she just—“ Noya questions, not missing the fact that you had just moved your atrophied legs. And while Yaku is very aware of his mate’s balking, he can only focus on the way your lips mold against your meal’s neck or the muted slurping noises bubbling from your lungs like a woman starved. In a sense, that was quite literal. Noya looks over at his partner—silence wasn’t typical of Yaku when asked a question—but words are lost on him when he sees the way Yaku’s eyes are hungrily staring at your form and he’s unsure if its due to hunger or hunger. The moan that leaves your tongue when you finally pull away from the now empty body confirms the shorter one’s suspicions. “Not that seeing you turned on doesn’t turn me on, but you might wanna put that away, Morisuke.” Noya teases before walking towards you, the call of his given name causing Yaku to snap out of his stupor. Well fuck, he snarls bitterly in his head. He was gonna have to feed again, considering all the blood he had just consumed went straight to his cock.
You feel alive—more alive than you felt in ages. And despite your attempt being incredibly shaky, you managed to stand on your own two feet, using the wall to brace yourself. Noya rushes over to your side to try to hold you steady, asking if you’re alright. “I’m more than alright, Nishi, holy shit.” He has an arm under you, carefully bringing you back towards Yaku, though for the most part, you’re walking entirely on your own.
“So what, have you guys just been giving me snacks this whole time?” You sneer teasingly, though Yaku looks away because your accusation because it isn’t entirely wrong. The blood packs were indeed “snacks” but were usually only used to stave off hunts, that way they didn’t just decimate the prison on an every other day basis, but were also used as post coitus replenishments.
“One more?” Yaku coughs out, as if choking on his own spit. “We can do this one together, if you like.” He’s trying to be polite, despite the feral look in his eyes while also trying to calm down the lust and adrenaline running rampant in his system.
“Yeah, that’d be nice.” As opposed to carrying you this time, Yaku flanks to your empty side, helping you walk between him and Noya until you came upon your next victim. This one was larger than the last few—stocky and skin marred with stories of a brutal past. No matter which way you looked at him, he looked bitter, and after asking him what he was in for, you figure he was a perfect candidate. After all, intentionally murdering his wife and three children was heinous by definition. Yaku approaches the much taller man, crouching ever so slightly in the event your meal tried to escape; not that he could even if he wanted to. The leader of the Damned was behind him in seconds, snapping his neck to disarm the threat that was his build.
To everyone’s surprise, you made your way over slowly to the now lifeless, six-foot-three prisoner while Yaku punctured holes on both sides of the victim’s neck, allowing the both of you to feed. It was oddly intimate, being so close to someone while sucking the literal life out of somebody. The lapping, sucking noises brought back salacious thoughts to the man beside you, and he’s doing all that he can just to avoid trading sustenance for an erection again. Meanwhile, Noya is watching both of you in amusement. Does his partner realize that he’s gingerly scraping his claws along your spine? Is it out of encouragement, or interest? Yu can’t quite tell, but he finds it entertaining nonetheless. Even more so when Yaku squirms at the throaty moan leaving your lungs when you pull away, lips plump with a bead of leftovers dripping from the seam of you mouth.
Either way, Nishinoya knows it won’t be long now until Yaku cracks. Despite the great amount of self-control he tends to exercise, Yaku is but a simple creature that cannot stave off his desires and Noya is no different. They were going to give way to their desires sooner rather than later, but they made a vow eons ago that revenge must always come first.
One year, three months, one week, and four days. That was how long it had been since you died in the alleyway. Today was the day those boys were going to die for what they did.
By now, you were fully functioning; walking on your own, feeding on your own. The only difference between you and the others was that you still slept, though not very much anymore, and according to Akaashi, it would be a trait that you would grow out of maybe two decades after your first century. That was actually the sole reason there was even a bed in the house—Nishinoya still slept merely because he enjoyed it. He wasn’t like the others who had found a passion project that kept him up around the clock, so more often than not, he would join you in bed. After all, it was originally his bed.
And more often than not, Yaku would sit in the spacious window sill while Noya wrapped his arms around you protectively in your shared slumber, as if to abide by the repeated mantra he had said over the last year—he’ll be there when you wake.
Your dreams are no longer memories, as you’ve got caught up to current events thanks to the playback speed that they paced themselves at. Now, you’re able to recall on every single event of your life that you’ve witnessed thus far with perfect detail—including the faces of your five murderers. Each of them belonged to your university Pike fraternity; two of them were a year older than you, two the same age, and the one who had the knife to your neck was a freshman not yet old enough to drink legally, but apparently old enough to to pull the metaphorical trigger and throw the knife that had gone through your entire body, severing your aorta in your heart.
After researching in the form of disguise, you learned that tonight Pi Kappa Epsilon would be holding their annual holiday gala; fancy words for a giant frat party for those who chose not to return to their hometowns for Christmas. Knowing how these events tend to function—it was relatively easy to sneak in, even with Nishinoya and Yaku flanking your sides. You flashed the doorman a crisp fifty, knowing males always had to pay a fee for entry while women always got in for free. The bouncer grins upon seeing you in a tight, red body-con dress, but the grin is immediately displaced when his eyes land on the two men beside you. Giving your best, most flirtatious smile, you grab both of their wrists before heading inside. “Don’t lose me, okay?” You yell over the pounding music.
“We won’t,” they say in unison. Noya gives you a reassuring smile, hand pressed against Yaku’s back gently, while the latter purses his lips together in discomfort. “Just keep talking to me through here,” he adds, pressing his cold lips to your forehead chastely, “and I’ll find you.” You give him a confident nod before you throw yourself into the throng of people to find your targets. It proved a bit of a challenge, considering the strobe lighting and the myriad of people—all of the men looked the same on top of that. But once your eyes narrowed in on the man you first lured you, it was game over.
Like a tiger ready to pounce, you sauntered over to him, pushing aside whomever he was with at the moment before wrapping your arms lewdly around his neck. He looks down at you skeptically, but otherwise pleased with the bold actions. From a short distance away, Yaku and Noya are hiding like wallflowers, listening to the resounding chant happening in your head that screamed to kill him. “You know,” Noya chimes in lowly, distracting Yaku from the way your hips are grinding and gyrating against the strange man’s, “we could just kill the entire fraternity.” Yaku shakes his head—Noya was always fond of the idea of revenge against all who were guilty by association. While the others in the clan gave into his persuasion, Yaku never found it amusing.
“What if they had no idea that their brother killed someone?”
“They probably bragged about it,” Noya grumbles. From his own experience, the shorter of the two liked to think that he knew how these people tended to operate.
“It’s go time.” Yaku says abruptly, eyes locked onto your retreating form as you pull one of your rapists by the tie and lead him out the frat house. The two Damned maneuver their way towards the quietest space, hunting for a window they can exit out of to follow you without garnering too much attention towards the situation. When they end up on the sidewalk outside of the Pike house, they see you parading—brokenly, complete with fake stumbles to allude to you being drugged again—the man by the tie until he shoves you into the same alleyway.
Close behind were four others, all built and stocky as they traveled in their pack and making their way towards the alley. You were cornered amongst trash and dead rats, the five of them trying to zero in on you, yet you showed no fear. Instead, you stood at full height with the addition of your stilettos, as your body transitioned into it’s more predatory form. “Remember me?” You ask sweetly, cracking your knuckles nonchalantly. Your hair that’s covering the ugly mound of flesh scarred over from your injury is swept over the opposite shoulder, giving them full view as your short, blackened claws graze over the skin. “Over a year ago, the five of you brought a woman to this alley, raped her and you,” a feral snarl leaves your lips as you point to the youngest fraternity brother, “threw a knife into her back that went all the way through her heart and killed her.”
The five of them begin looking over at each other, wondering who ratted out who considering they had never spoken of the night since it occurred. It was easy to avoid, considering the body was never found. There was never any evidence. “W-who are you?” The youngest one squawks out.
“Don’t remember?” Your head snaps in the direction to one of the older members. “I should have bit your dick off when I had the chance.” There’s no more room for talking, no room for rebuttal. Instead, you grab the same man you lured into the alley by the tie, bringing him close enough to snap his neck. When he was neither moving nor breathing, the remaining four began to back up.
“Yo, this bitch is crazy, let’s get out of here—“
“You think you’re just gonna get away?” Noya laughs dryly as it crescendoed into full volume, shaking the walls and mimicking an earthquake that did not expand beyond the walls of the alley. The remaining four fall to the ground, not prepared for such loud noises let alone a trembling earth to accompany the sound. Yaku shakes his head in utter disgust before the crimson ring in his eyes locks with the prey.
“Done eating, love?” He calls out, causing the four other frat boys to look over in horror at the “e” word. Once again, you’re standing at full height, the back of your hand wiping away the blood that had escaped from your mouth from your feeding.
“Not quite yet,” With every step you took, they trembled back, only to be met with your two saviors blocking their only exit. The youngest one is hiding all the way in the back, trepidation causing his bones to rattle within his skin as his back hits Yaku’s calf. “I’m still hungry.” Noya lets out a snort at this—he truly did love your sense of humor.
“You’re next.” Yaku looks down at the young boy, only nineteen-years-old, who had been your executioner. That same boy looks at the leader of the clan in horror, eyes wide because he never in a million years saw this as his end. Effortlessly, Yaku picks him up by the collar of his shirt before tossing him in your direction. Rather than catching him, you gathered your claws together to form a single point, driving the makeshift lance through the stomach of the one who had ended your life. Without verbalizing it, you gave the boys permission to feed on the other two—so long as it wasn’t the one that you had tried to bite down on when he rammed his cock in your mouth.
You had plans for him.
In the mean time, you pull the now lifeless body off of your bloodied hand, drinking down whatever was dripping down your arm before tossing him off to the side; you had one more pressing matter to deal with. The last of the boys—the dessert to your meal was pressed against the wall as he tried to run from this situation, watching in mortification as Yaku and Noya beheaded the other two brothers with their bare hands, feasting on their prey. “Like I said,” you sneered as you approached the last one, ripping off his pants and boxers much like he had when he violated your mouth. “I should have bit your dick off when I had the chance.”
And so you did.
“Remind me to never get on your bad side,” Yaku muses, having finished his meal, gawking at the way you had just left the last one along the wall with his penis bitten off all the way down to the base while you returned to the youngest member again, draining your murderer for all he was worth.
“I dunno, it’s kinda hot, babe.” Noya jokes, watching in amusement as well.
“I’m actually kinda full,” You shrug, having drained the stabber entirely—that put your body count to two full bodies. “D’you guys wanna have the last one? I got all I wanted from him.” At sound of your permission, Yaku approaches the last one with a predatory glare, not daring to break eye contact as he asked you one more question.
“[ name ], do you feel that justice been served?” With a nonplussed grimace, you gave a shrug.
“If anything, these assholes got the short end of the stick. They murder a girl they raped so she comes back from the dead and kills them all with two beautiful men by her side? Yeah, I’m happy with that.”
By the time you returned home, you were an entirely different creature. You felt...free. Like there was nothing else anchoring your dead heart, like you no longer had a tether to this world. Like you had no purpose.
So now what?
Silently you meander back to your shared bedroom to further contemplate your existence, the boys you left behind glancing at each other in concern. “Want me to talk to her? I might be able to better sympathize.” Noya asks quietly so that your now heightened hearing can’t quite pick up on the conversation. Regardless, Yaku shakes his head. He knows exactly what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling and not just because of his ability to read minds.
“I’ve got a few things I want to say to her anyway.” Noya presses a tender kiss to his mates cheek before he flits away to hang out with Daichi as he normally does when he’s not with Yaku, while the head of the clan makes his way to the room. You’re lying in bed already, the dress and stilettos shed and traded for bare feet and a slip. Despite your back turned towards him, you feel the bed dip as he lays beside you, something atypical of Yaku. “How do you feel?” His voice is merely a whisper as he cautiously wraps an arm around your waist.
“Shouldn’t you know the answer?” You retort, but Yaku doesn’t recoil because he knows. He knows the sort of limbo you feel you’re placed in now that your postmortem mission had been carried out. What were you supposed to do for the rest of eternity besides act as an impromptu executioner, feeding off of the worst criminals within a hundred mile radius?
“Is that all you see us as?”
“No,” You say quietly. These Damned men had accomplished great things, from what you knew of them, in their lifetimes. Sugawara has continued composing even well after his other alias’ deaths, Akaashi has been working on a research piece for decades regarding cancer in the form of preventative measures rather than a cure, in addition to a cure. Daichi had participated in the Olympics a number of times, Yaku was once a politician in multiple countries and Nishinoya had worked closely with electronic developers over the years including Microsoft and Linux. “You guys have accomplished so much in your lifetimes, I just don’t want to be some sort of disappointment—“
“[ name ], we never knew were going to do those things. We just kept pushing on, finding out things we were passionate about and since we have unlimited time, we’ve had time to hone and perfect those skills.”
“What if I never do anything that great?” Yaku lets out a sigh, turning your now fully restored body around to face him and pressing his face into your neck. Over the duration of your rehabilitation process, he’d become so over protective of you, wanting what’s best for you in any capacity yet never fully being honest with himself.
“You have time to figure it out,” he mumbles into your own icy skin, lips tickling your veins. “Until then, just stay? With me?”
“Yaku...” he had never fully outright asked you to stay—only alluding to it in the past with talks of the future.
“I-I want you,” he whispers almost uncharacteristically. Being a diplomat, stuttering was not a thing that Yaku did very often. “To stay with us forever. To stay with me forever.” This is it, he figures. It’s now or never. Yaku can’t stand the idea of you leaving the clan, leaving him when he hadn’t yet had a taste of you, had you in any other form than a few mere kisses for feeding or in fantasies. Pulling away, Yaku shifts once again so that his arms are holding his weight above you, his lips ghosting intimately over yours.
Both of you are overly aware of the attraction that’s there—you knew of the daydreams you’d had of him throughout the year and with his ability, he was unwillingly subjected to them. Reaching up slightly, your lips press against his hungrily, your tongue immediately dancing along the seam of his lips, begging for permission to enter. Yaku doesn’t waste a second dropping the support from his arms in favor to press his body fully into yours because he’s been waiting for this moment. It’s evident in his fervent kiss, it’s evident in his ever present erection. A mewl warbles in your throat as you feel him grind against you.
Why the hell had you waited so long for this? Why did he wait so long for this?
There was no more waiting.
Breaking a part for a moment, you pull the slip off your torso hastily while Yaku unbuckles his belt and frees his lower half. Impatience floods you as you tear off the thin Henley he’s wearing, leaving the two of you entirely bare in front of each other. The large scar on your bosom that had made you self conscious for months suddenly felt dull in comparison as you’re met with the varying marks that marred Yaku’s skin. From what you could tell, they looked like whiplashes. “I need you now,” he pleads, ignoring your wandering thoughts as he hungrily pulls you in for another kiss. Though rather short lived, your overwhelmed with warmth and pulsing in your core as his fangs run along your neck before sucking lovingly at your collarbone.
“O-oh,” you moan out wantonly, clutching at his shoulders to keep yourself steady. With no preparation, not that you needed any, Yaku slowly sheaths his member inside of you, the girth stretching you deliciously. For a moment, the two of you remain still to bask in the reprieve you both felt, unaware of the third party member watching pleased in the lounge chair across from the bed. “Fuck,” you hiss out between your teeth as he’s pushing in inch after inch.
“You’re doing so good, princess,” for a moment, he’s impressed—taking eleven inches with little to no preparation can be torturous, and he knew that from experience. “Come on, baby take the last of it—oh fuck yeah,” Yaku groans out as soon as he’s balls deep within you. The two of you are still, enjoying the moment of togetherness before he bottoms out entirely in your sweet little hole. His hips move almost languidly so as not to hurt you but good lord for all that is unholy, is he holding back.
Soft whimpers leave your lungs each time his hips snap back into yours—why the hell hadn’t you fucked Yaku sooner?! A throaty chuckle grumbles in his chest at the thought. Even with him slamming his cock in you at half-force, his mind is intertwined with yours to the point where your thoughts feel like his own. “I had to take care of you princess, wanted to make sure you could handle me fucking you.”
“Then fuck me harder, ass-hat.”
“He likes it better when you call him senpai.” Nishinoya calls out from the opposite corner of the room, as if he wasn’t just leisurely watching his partner ream himself into your core. You let out a scream and at this point, you aren’t sure if it’s because Yaku have a particularly hard thrust with the head of his dick meeting with the edge of your womb or if Nishinoya’s presence surprised you. Even more so to see that he was stark naked, stroking his cock that he’s presenting to your mouth.
“Suck off your senpai, princess.” Yaku whispers devilishly in your ear, holding his cock still within you as he does so. Tentatively, you give a kitten lick to the head before you, testing out Nishinoya’s reaction to the motion before deeming him worthy. A soft grunt escapes him, his body more than welcoming of the sensation—but it just wasn’t enough for you.
“I need a better reaction than that, Nishi,” You joke.
A poor plan on your part.
The shorter of the two looks down at you curiously, a wicked twist of his lip displayed for you as he briefly tosses an amused look towards Yaku, to which the latter lets out a chuckle in addition to the shake of his head before he starts to withdraw his cock from within you. “How’s this for reaction?” Noya chirps before deftly wrapping his claws in your hair, slamming his engorged member down your throat while Yaku simultaneously thrusts back inside you. The carnal desires that had run rampant through your mind on occasion had built to this moment, built up the needy desire that the boys finally had the chance to release with you. “Yeah, you take that cock in your throat, baby. Show us how much you’ve wanted us from the start.”
Nishinoya is absolutely relentless as he repeatedly withdraws and replaces his erection in your mouth, pulling so far back as to have his tip tease and smear pre-cum along your lips, all the while chanting praise and how much he loves you; how much he’s dreamed of having you between him and Yaku. The latter can’t help the stuttering motion of his hips as he unabashedly strokes his member along your walls, the tip of dick all but moving into your womb. “Yeah, princess, take your senpais cocks so fucking good, yeah? You want us to fill all your holes with our fucking cum, don’t you?” You can only wail out around Nishinoya in your mouth in response, clenching and squeezing your pussy tightly around Yaku inside you. The clan head lets out a very audible groan at the abrupt friction. “Oh, fuck yeah. Fuck yeah, senpai’s gonna cum so fucking hard inside you, yeah yeah yeah.” Yaku is absolutely wrecking and ravaging your lower half while all the foul, salacious words leaving him were only serving to turn on his partner even more until the both of them hold still to empty their first loads inside you.
After a momentary reprieve, the two of them withdraw from you, the smallest whine leaving your lips at the distinct emptiness. Between pants, both of the males look to each other before letting out a laugh. “Princess,” Noya calls out from your left, golden eyes light and airy as they gaze at you, “did you think we were going to let you cum?”
“Y-yes?” Why wouldn’t they? Wasn’t that just normal, sex etiquette between partners?
“Oh no, love,” Yaku adds, “We’re gonna show you just how much we love you, gotta coat every inch of your skin in our fluids before you can even think about cumming.” Before you can blink, the boys are up again with Nishinoya taking his position with the tip of his still hardened member teasing the outer lips of your pussy. Meanwhile, Yaku makes it a point to slap your cheek with his own erection, making sure to keep your attention and focus on him. Simultaneously, they thrust into their respective orifices that they’ve traded—Yaku treating you much more delicately versus Noya who shoves his entire mast inside your depths.
“Oh damn, babe, you’re so fucking tight!” The latter howls, throwing his head back in ecstasy. Despite having identical lengths, Nishinoya was much more rough and rigid, your walls acclimating to every vein out of necessity before relentlessly pounding away at your insides. At his pace, your pussy doesn’t even have a chance to miss the feeling of fullness. Your voice is no longer coming out in moans or screams due to the damning pace—only in a broken staccato of warbles from the speed that Noya’s fucking you. “Yeah, baby? Gonna stay here with us forever and get dicked down every night? You’d like that wouldn’t you?”
But with the almost tender, loving way Yaku is holding your throat while repeatedly sliding his cock in from tip to base, there is no actual way you can reply. Instead, you let out grunts and cries of affirmation because you would stupid not to welcome the way these two were screwing you. It’s also more than just that.
These two, as well as the rest of the brood, had taken you in being inches from death, presented you with another opportunity for life that served as an opportunity for you to seek revenge, while caring for you and almost...loving you.
“We do,” Yaku bites, withdrawing his cock from your lips offended at the thought of almost, “love you, that is.” The hand that is cupping your throat moves to brush the backs of his claws along your jaw before pulling your chin and torso up so that Yaku can kiss you fully. There is no lust or wanton desire in this kiss—it’s love through and through that is simultaneously cold yet warm.
“You’ve been dreaming about us for a long time, princess,” Noya grits out, his peak approaching all too quickly with the way you’re clenching around him with no relief. He’s panting heavily, no longer caring about his need to assert his dominance in any capacity; all he can think about is cumming deep inside you while you cum around his thick cock. “We want to make your dreams come true.”
Yaku pulls away from the kiss in time to hear your cries—a delicacy he had never had the pleasure of knowing in a past life—as you cum with Noya. The latter is holding still for a brief moment before withdrawing, his spent body collapsing beside you. You’re sensitive, you realize, as Yaku slides back in to reclaim his space. Your walls are still trembling in the aftermath of your orgasm, but Yaku is much more gentle this time around. Pressing his body flush against yours, he wraps both his arms around you with one cradling your head, the other around your lower back to pull you as close as possible. His shallow moving thrusts in accompaniment to his pulsing girth are enough to trigger yet another orgasm in direct succession, and coercing his own orgasm. “Please stay, [ name ].” He mumbles into your hair as he feels his seed spurting within you. Though you supply no answer due to trying to catch your breath, you only nod in response. Yaku remains still inside you, so as if to seal both his and his partner’s emission within you with his own softening cock, smiling at the simple fact that you had nodded in response. “Get some rest, little one,” He adds, adjusting so that he’s on the opposite side of you and a now sleeping Noya. “We’ll be here when you wake.”
#haikyuu took over my life#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu scenario#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu!!#vampire!au#supernatural!au#vampire!Yaku#vampire!Noya#vampire!reader#vampire!Daichi#vampire!Akaashi#vampire!Sugawara#yaku morisuke#yaku x reader#i love yaku#hq yaku#haikyuu yaku#happy birthday Yaku#nishinoya yuu#nishinoya imagine#nishinoya x reader#nishinoya scenarios#implied Daichi x Sugawara#haikyu
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A Totally and Completely Uneventful Night
The beginnings of a short little dewlet fic for y’all. Hope you enjoy!
“No! No way am I doing that!” Louie stood up. “Getting there early, organization, teamwork, dealing with tape. No way! Louie is out!” he announced as he started towards the door.
“I already signed you up,” Huey stopped him, crossing his arms.
“Come on guys!” Webby rolled her eyes. “It’ll be fun! All of us working together, setting up decorations, having some best friend bonding time! Plus, then we’ll be the first ones there!”
“Why the hell would you want to be the first ones to arrive at prom?” Louie squinted at her.
“Extra time at the photo booth!” Webby smiled.
“Look, I know it’s a lot to ask,” Violet sighed. “But I’m head of the planning committee, and the only other member so far is Huey,”
He smiled at the mention of his name.
“And this is my big project for senior year! So I really need this to work out, and so many things have already fallen through, I just…” she sighed. “I really need this to work.”
Dewey had been unusually silent for the duration of this discussion and he wasn’t exactly sure of the reason. He speculated it might be a combination of things. He hadn’t slept especially well the previous night, and he hadn’t had breakfast yet, both of which meaning his energy level was far below par, but most likely the main factor was Violet herself. It had been a while since he’d really talked with her. Senior year had been taxing on both of their schedules and neither of them really ever had the time to just slow down and hang out. And it hadn’t been until this moment, when Violet forced upon him the concept of prom, a signifier of the end of senior year, that Dewey realized just how much he had missed talking with her. He admired Violet quite a lot, and seeing her standing before him at her breaking point really made his heart ache in a way he had never quite felt before.
“We’ve got your back Vi,” Dewey assured her. “Come on, I mean the duck boys can handle a little party set up, right Louie?”
“I hate it!” he started. “I hate it so much! You have to try and roll up the tape to stick stuff on the wall, but you don’t stick it to itself right the first time, so it ends up in this lopsided ball, and you try to unstick it from itself, but then it’s lost its sticky-ness! But even if you do get it right the first time, the piece is always too small to actually hold anything, so you just have to throw it away! So then you start overcompensating, and you run out of tape, and you have to go around asking people for tape! Do you have tape? Do you have tape?! No! No one has tape! Because they all made the same mistake you did!” Louie’s hands clenched into spastic fists as a few heavy breaths went threw him.
“How about we find a non-tape related task to delegate Louie to.” Huey whispered.
“What’s the theme this year anyway?” Dewey asked. “I don’t remember it being announced.”
“A Night in Paris,” Violet answered, a smile gracing her face.
“Paris!” Webby squealed, grabbing onto Dewey’s arm. “It’s so atmospheric!”
“And it’s a lot of work.” Violet pulled out notecards from her back pocket, uncoupling them from the colorful paper clip that held them together. “Here’s a reminder of the date and time you’ll need to be there along with a list of things that it would be really helpful if you could bring.” She started passing them out to everyone in the room, Dewey looking down at the small pink card. So much information in such little space. “And keep in mind, as representatives of the planning committee, you will be expected to follow the dress code.”
“Oh my gosh!” Webby jumped. “We should totally go together, and then we could dress up all matching! We could make our outfits out of that fancy flip sequin fabric-!”
“I’ve added a rule banning excessive sequins specifically for you,” Violet stopped her, handing her a card. “I don’t want anyone being blinded.”
“Well… I guess we could just do normal sequins,” Webby reasoned.
“Wait-” Dewey broke his train of thought, his eyes turning to Webby as his mind caught up with her proposal. “You want to go with me?”
“Well yeah,” Webby chuckled. “That’s what best friends are for, right? I mean, no one wants to go to prom by themselves.”
Dewey looked at her a moment trying to figure out what it was about this that felt wrong. Webby was in fact his best friend- always had been- and going to prom with friends had always been his plan. Not to mention the idea of showing up in matching blue sequins was definitely alluring, but something just felt off. His eyes drifted across the room, trying to look for his answer.
“What about everyone else though?”
“Oh Louie’ll be fine.” Webby shrugged it off. “No offense Louie.”
“None taken,” he shook his head.
Dewey stared at them a moment, still confused. “What about everyone else though?”
“Huey and I are going together!” Violet smiled. “Mainly so that we can get their extra early for more set up time.”
“Plus-!” Huey chimed in. “If one of us gets pulled away for managing duties, we’re not abandoning anyone!”
They shared a confident high five, Dewey still a bit dumbfounded.
“Hold on, let me get this straight, the first one of us to get a date to prom… was Huey?” Everyone glanced around at each other, letting the information process. “This is not at all how I thought senior prom would go,” he mumbled. “I mean Louie going alone isn’t actually that unexpected, but Huey… that’s weird.”
“I don’t know, I think we can find a date for Louie.” Webby crossed her arms.
“You really don’t have to-” Louie broke in.
“Maybe you could go with Lena!”
Louie chuckled. “Lena’s like 14.”
“Lena’s immortal,” Webby rolled her eyes.
“Lena is out of town for the next two weeks.” Violet interjected. “So my sister will not be going with anyone, none the less Louie.”
“No offense Louie.” Webby chimed in.
“Again, none taken,” He shrugged.
Dewey glanced around the room a bit skeptically, still feeling a bit uneasy about the set up. “Well, I guess everyone’s set then,” he sighed. “I don’t know why I’m so worked up about it.”
“You’re nervous about prom, big deal!” Webby teased him. “Come on, let’s go figure out our outfits!”
Dewey followed her as she headed towards the door, still a bit dazed, perplexed about what it was that felt off.
“I’m thinking we do blue and pink because, you know, it’s us.” Webby rolled her eyes. “But also, that gives everything a cotton candy kind of feel, which I think will really set us apart.”
“You sure nothing feels weird about this Webs?” Dewey stopped her before they could leave. “I don’t know, something’s wrong. It just doesn’t quite feel like the quintessential high school experience I’ve always imagined, you know?”
Webby stopped, turning into the room again. “Actually, I think I might know your problem.”
“What?” He asked.
“There’s no drama.” She shrugged. “Think about it, in every prom movie ever there’s always someone who needs to work up the nerve to ask someone, or their crush is going with someone else, or maybe they just broke up, so they both have to find rebound dates, only to end up together again by the end of the night.”
“That’s it!” Dewey jumped. “How is it that this all worked out so smoothly?! There’s no way. There’s got to be someone who’s hiding something.”
Webby leaned in, both of their eyes turning to the room. “Who do you think it is?” she whispered.
“It could be Huey.” Dewey offered. “I mean, he seems like the quirky awkward protagonist that could have girl problems.”
“True, true,” Webby nodded in agreement.
“But it could totally be Louie. Not going with anyone. I mean, who wants to go by themselves? Is he waiting to ask someone special?”
Webby gasped, turning to him. “Goselyn!”
Dewey smiled, turning to Webby, struggling to keep his tones hushed. “Because she’s in a different school district! He would need special permission to get her to come, so he’s worried about even asking, because it’d be such a big commitment!”
“Or maybe he was secretly going to her prom,” Webby offered. “but all this set up stuff puts a wrench in his plans, that’s why he's so opposed to helping out!”
“Oh my gosh, what if he pulls one of those ‘tries to go to both at the same time, but ends up revealing himself in the end’ things.”
“And by the end of the night we all know about their secret love!”
“Oh my gosh, it’s all so real!” Dewey turned to look back at his brother, now slumped over on the couch, scrolling through his phone.
“Louie ever shown signs of liking Goselyn before?”
“No,” Dewey shook his head. “But like, what’s the other option? We have a normal prom? I don’t think so.”
“Come on, let’s bolt before we get too suspicious.” Webby nudged him, opening the door again, both of them slipping through and giggling as they headed towards Webby’s room.
“Man, I am so excited for prom now! Matching outfits, set up shenanigans, drama, secret love, we’re going to have everything!”
“I’m just happy for Violet.” Webby brought down the tone as they reached their destination. “She’s going to throw the most boss prom the world has ever seen. She really deserves a win to round out the year.”
“Yeah,” Dewey sighed. “Violet’s like a superhuman, she does absolutely everything and supper well too. It’s kind of crazy when you think about it.”
“I still don’t know how she does it,” Webby shrugged, hopping onto her bed.
“I feel kind of bad. We were really close junior year, even early this year, but we’ve both been so booked recently I feel like I haven’t talked with her in ages.”
Dewey plopped down next to her on the bed, Webby raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t even know you guys were that good of friends.”
“Really?” Dewey chuckled. “We used to hang out all the time. We did lunch together last semester, we would carpool during the winter, she helped me with my homework all the time. We’d even get ice cream after school sometimes if we were both staying after for musical rehearsals.”
“She wasn’t in the musical last year, was she?”
“She was in the orchestra.” Dewey corrected her.
“...huh.” Webby sighed.
“What?”
“I guess I just wouldn’t pin you as two to hang out one on one.” Webby straightened up, now more interested in the conversation.
“You kidding? Violet’s great! She’s so smart and fun and she’s down for literally anything. I swear we could talk for hours and not run out of things to say.” Dewey could see Webby was still a bit baffled. “I don’t know, I just always feel so... happy when I’m around her. It’s kind of infectious, you know?”
Webby’s eyes narrowed as a smile graced her face. “...yeah.”
“You’re totally right though.” Dewey leaned back, laying down. “She deserves the absolute best prom night possible.” His eyes traced the outline of the glow stars stuck to Webby’s ceiling, lost in a bit of a daze for a moment.
“Dewey?” Webby started.
“Yeah?”
“... Nothing,” she sighed. “I just think we might have more drama than you’re anticipating."
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Reveling in Richonne
#156: The Reward (9x16)
Every protagonist needs a reward. Even if they don’t get a happily ever after or a perfect ending, they have to get a reward for all their efforts. And Rick’s reward was/is/and will always be Michonne and the family they created.
So even though he’s not able to still witness it all yet, the fact that his family can have a joyous moment like they had in this s9 finale shows the reward of all Rick and Michonne’s hardwork and sacrifice.
And getting to watch Richonne and their family all these years has been such a treasured experience and a reward for me. So, y’all, I’m walking into this final season 9 post like...
So the finale jumps ahead a bit, to the first snowy winter we’ve really seen on the show. And it’s actually really pretty.
And y’all, you already know the main scene that I need to bring up from this finale in regards to my love for Richonne and the Grimes family. 😊🙌🏽 ❄️
But a few observations before that moment:
1. I admit I found Negan’s commentary on this messy love quadrangle hilarious. He was Jerry Springer up in that joint. 😂He was straight up giddy to be out of that cell and crack his “Father Not The Father” jokes.
2. I absolutely love seeing little Judith and RJ in their beanies and winter clothes and Judith being a good big sister by wrapping a blanket around her and RJ. ☺️
Carl took care of her and now she has a little sibling to look after. Full circle. 👌 And I cannot wait until Rick gets to reunite with his little ones. They’re too precious! 🏽
3. Judith somehow lost Dog and I was legit fearful for her cuz Daryl would lose his mind if they didn’t find his best friend before he got back lol. But seeing little RJ in this moment was adorable. How I would love if Rick and Carl would have got to be in his life and watch him grow up.
4. Michonne and co stay at the Sanctuary (which makes me sad cuz the last time she was in the Sanctuary she was all cuddled up with the famous Rick Grimes. I need that Richonne reunion asap.) The group at Sanctuary tries to figure out how they should best travel home and when they go over the map Aaron says Rick’s bridge would’ve saved them which is sad too. 😔 Rick had the right idea about that bridge all this time and it would’ve helped people just like he believed it would.
5. Michonne and Ezekiel have a talk, leader to leader, and Michonne expresses how being apart didn’t actually make them stronger and they can’t let that happen again. She reminds Ezekiel that “that charter we signed, it means something.” But that dialogue had me looking at the writers like...
Again, I wish it was “we” tho and that they had let Michonne sign her charter so that she could sign it with “Michonne Grimes”. But I digress lol. 😪
Michonne passionately says the kingdom people aren’t just King Ezekiel’s anymore. “They’re ours. And we’re gonna get them home” I was like Kingdom, it’s your lucky day cuz now that you have Michonne claiming you, you gon’ be alright. When Sis is leading, people live. 👸🏽💯
6. Judith thinks she hears Dog so she runs after him (which I was like baby girl please stop running off. She’s about to beat Carl’s record) and then Negan chases after her and again I’m not with this. I just don’t want him near her no matter how much he’s “changed” and I especially don’t want him holding her or acting as a pseudo dad. The father/daughter vibes the show might be going for...
Negan asks if Judith’s okay and gives her his coat and then he jokes that she’s doing all this running to get extra Negan time...and y’all, I really think Rick would dislike this moment. ☹️ I don’t care how harmonious Rick wanted the world to be, he def didn’t intend for Negan to be buddy buddy with his daughter.
And while yes someone needed to go after Judith so I’m glad someone helped, cuz those Alexandrians stay slacking whenever it’s time to look for some kids. But still, Negan needs to stay in his lane.
I know this show will be adamant to redeem Negan going forward tho so it’s pretty much inevitable. And the show really was working double time to redeem this guy with having him save a little girl and a dog at the same time. 🤷🏽♀️
7. The only thing colder than this winter weather was Carol breaking it off with Ezekiel 👀🥶 I felt really bad for the king cuz that’s a lot of loss to go through with losing your kid and then your wife leaving you. It also just makes me really grateful for Richonne cuz, y’all, there’s a lot of couples both in this show and in other shows who fall apart or get really mishandled but Richonne is so solid and so everlasting. #StayWinning
8. Michonne and Negan have an interesting exchange in the very room where Rick and Michonne were once laying down the law to Negan in the prior season finale.
Michonne thanks Negan for saving Judith and Negan brings up how last time the two were in here together Rick had just slit his throat open. Good times. 😝 Negan says Judith is a special girl and again my gut reaction was just to be like; Negan step back cuz you aren’t a pseudo dad, uncle, or anything else. 👏🏽
9. Interestingly one of the most compassionate things said to Michonne since this time jump comes from Negan in this scene. Cuz he looks at her and says “And you…you’ve been through enough.” It’s true. It’s so true. 💯
Her friends needed to express this sentiment too. You can tell it feels strange for Michonne to be having a fairly friendly moment like this with Negan so she just says “Get better.” and leaves. But then Negan asks if everyone’s okay and she questions if he cares and then they end up having a whole little conversation about how no one sees themselves as the bad guy. It’s true that from most people’s perspectives they’re the hero.
I feel like this scene was low key meant to plant the seed of Michonne and Negan having a more friendly open dialogue with each other moving forward and all I can say to that is...tread very lightly TWD lol. 🙃😑
Alright so now onto the perfect winter wonderland scene. 🤗
The group gets back to Alexandria and there’s this great aerial shot of Alexandria’s queen, Michonne being the first one to walk through the gates and then we see Judith run and hug her.
I adore that Judith runs to her with open arms just like she did in 9x14. Mom and daughter love, y’all. 🙌🏽
Mama Michonne of course checks on Judith and asks how she is and she notices Judith’s cheeks are super red so she immediately asks, “What happened?” and Judith doesn’t want to admit that the Carl in her had her running out the house and off into the frigid storm, so she instead adorably says, “It’s cold.” And Michonne smiles and hugs her again. I love their love. 😭😋
And then y’all, I’m sent straight to another galaxy when Michonne looks over and sees RJ adorably laying in the snow.
PRECIOUS. She cutely walks up to him and scoops him up into a hug and this is some of the best Mama Michonne content. 😭
Can you believe we’re here? We’re at a point in this series where Michonne can hug her son who belongs to her and Rick. Richonne is the best journey. 🙌🏽💯
Rick and Michonne’s love always felt like a character in itself. It was that evident and present and powerful. And now it’s precious to know that their love gets to take form in this adorable little boy.
I just adore seeing Michonne hug her children. And Judith’s little face of joy as she watches her mom and brother is the adorable cherry on top. More of this in season ten, please!
Michonne has hugged all the Grimes in the most beautiful way. 😭Especially, in times they’ve been in danger Michonne’s always right there to hug them and be there for them.
The Grimes are lucky to have Michonne as the matriarch. ☺️ #Royalty!
And then it gets even cuter as Judith and RJ play in the snow and Daryl gets in on the action and throws a snowball at RJ which is the sweetest thing. 😊
And RJ throws a snowball back at Uncle Daryl and I don’t know about y’all but on my TV I heard RJ throw that snowball and say “This is for not taking my dad back to Alexandria like you said you would.” 😂Was it just my TV? 😋
Lol but for real it is cute and I love seeing Daryl interact with Rick and Michonne’s son.
So then they all engage in this adorable little snow ball fight and it’s really heartwarming. This is the world Rick wanted. This is the life he wanted to give Michonne and their kids and I’m glad that in this moment his wife and kids got to enjoy the bliss he so deeply wanted to provide for them.
This is the reward. 😌
The only thing that would make this scene better is if Rick and Carl were here to join in this family fun. But Rick will get his chance. I know he will. 💯
Every season finale had pretty much always gave us a notably special Richonne moment. Season 3 Finale: “Must’ve been something else then.” Season 4 Finale: “Cuz I’m okay too.” Season 5 Finale: “I’m still with you.” Season 6 Finale: Rick being sent into a whole daze after finding her locs on that walker. Season 7 Finale: Rick finding her and hugging her after that battle and letting her know they will be the ones who live. Season 8 Finale: R&M holding hands as they head off to war.
So going into the season 9 finale I was sad that this would be the first finale without a sweet Richonne moment. But what’s great is that Richonne lives on through their family. So the finale still gave us something so precious.
If they’re going to take Rick away from us then ending on Michonne hugging both her kids in the snow is a nice touch to give us some Grimes family love. After everything Michonne went through this season I’m glad we get to see her smile and embody the sentiment she expressed to Negan in 9x04; As long as you’re still breathing then there’s life worth living.
The final moment is Ezekiel and Judith talking on the radio and before Judith leaves to do homework she tells Ezekiel, “I’ll tell my mom you said hello.” And again, I just love how often Judith says “mom”. I was hoping we’d hear Judith call Michonne mom at least once this season and we got that ten times over so I’m happy.
And y’all, I heard about the rumors leading up to the finale that Rick’s voice might potentially be heard on the radio and I was pretty certain that those rumors were just that; rumors. But you know there’s always that little tiny piece of you that hopes. And then it was some indiscernible woman’s voice so idk, we’ll see where that goes I guess.
But even though Rick being alive didn’t get foreshadowed in this finale, I have hope that at some point Michonne will learn the good news that her man is alive because once again, they’re the ones who live. They’re also #MagnetsForLife 🙌🏽😊🎉🥰
And that is everything from Season 9!
Season 9 was quite the roller coaster. Even though the show isn’t what it was, this season was a refreshing upgrade from the last two seasons. And as always, in my humble opinion, Richonne and their family was the brightest beacon of light this season. They never fail to deliver and shine.
On the eve of this s10 trailer, (Michonne’s last trailer 😭 ), I know I’m going to watch for Michonne and Danai’s final season. (And imma need this show to give both Danai and Michonne their things. Said things include but are not limited to: Their respect, their honor, their peace, their accolades, their time to shine, and their route to the movies with Rick)
But after that, it’ll be the movies I wait for. I want Michonne, Rick, Judith, and RJ content. All of it. Every second of it. 😍👌
(Side note: And I don’t want Michonne to leave Judith and RJ for any reason at all, so I seriously hope wherever she goes she takes them with her. Even though I have a feeling Judith will be around for the rest of the show, but a girl can dream that Michonne gets to leave with her kids)
Whatever happens with the show or movies all I know is I’m in it for the Grimes Family. I’m glad Andy and Danai get to move on and go thrive beyond this show. I’m grateful for the time they’ve put into these characters and I’m especially glad that their characters are alive, Richonne’s love lives, their son and daughter live, cuz this family be giving me life.
And y’all, just know that so long as Richonne is alive my love for them and my need to revel over them lives on too. So your girl is not done gushing over the GOAT couple lol.
I’ll of course have to analyze every moment in those movies but even before then I’ve already got some ideas. I’ve mentioned before how I have a non-existent top ten Richonne moments list that I don’t have written down it’s just in my head. And that’s true. Or at least it was.
Now that we’ve officially gotten every Rick and Michonne moment we’re gonna get from the series, I’ve compiled a whole Top 30 list of my all-time favorite Richonne moments ranked in order, leading all the way to my number one favorite Richonne moment. (Y’all know my extra self couldn’t stop at a Top 10 lol).
So at some point down the line, I’ll try and share that list with some updated thoughts on those scenes. And I’d love to hear your lists too!
Until then, I can’t wait for these “alleged” movies lol. They’re coming. They have to cuz I need this all to conclude with Rick and Michonne back where they’re always meant to be; together. I need Judith and RJ back with their mom and dad. I need Richonne/Grimes Family gold. A whole pot of it. And I believe we’ll get it.
I’m excited too cuz If Rick and Michonne are in a movie it’s going to be good, no matter what else goes on, cuz those two don’t know how to do anything other than be excellent. 💯And imma be there cuz that’s our family so you know we gotta be there to reunite lol. 😋🙌 🏽 🏆
I already know that reunion is about to be just like Richonne and their family...
So before I conclude this post, I really want to say a sincere thank you to everyone who read all these s9 posts and all the little dissertations I’ve done thus far. As I always say, and I always mean it, y’all are the best and have great taste in TV couples lol. I know writing these when I have some free time puts a smile on my face and if this last 30 days of posts put at least one smile on your face then it makes all this time spent worth it.
Thanks so much for letting me revel on your TL and thanks for sharing the comments, kindness, and conversations. I so enjoy hearing from you and your opinions are on point for real. Your insights make me love Richonne even more. So thank you! I genuinely appreciate the support and that even seasons later, even with all the stuff and thangs this wild show puts us through we’re still here rocking with Richonne. #Always&Forever
All that’s left to say is Richonne is amazing and the GOAT. When you have two iconic multidimensional characters played by two iconic multidimensional actors you’re gonna get magic. And that’s why a “zombie” show ended up having the greatest healthiest most beautiful love story I’ve ever seen. #GospelTruth #StayBlessedY’all #LongLiveRichonne!
gifs source: the amazing & gifted @michonnegrimes
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Cutting Down the House
I talk with a lot of novelists, and when I mention I’m a short story writer, most, if not all of them, say the same thing:
“I don’t know how you can write something so short! That takes real skill.”
Like, sure. But long form is, in my opinion, a lot harder. How you can write something so LONG? How do you fill all that space? Where do you find all those words??
But I’m not here to fawn over novelists (again). I’m here to help y’all figure out how to cut, green, trim, and slim down your prose. I’m talking short stories, flash fiction, micro fiction, and other short stacks.
(I have an obvious bias for short stories because that’s what I do the most.)
Here’s How I Write Short Fiction:
[Under the cut, because long post is looong.]
Let’s Begin
What kind of stories are short stories?
Shorts are somewhere between 1,000-10,000 words on average, less than that is Flash. You’ll see a lot of disagreement on how long a short story can be, but I recommend capping it around 10,000. [NOTE: Most literary magazines only accept less than 10,000/8,000/5,000 word stories. It varies.]
I usually put the short story cap at around 20 pages because one time someone turned in a 30+ page story in a workshop out of spite and everyone was very salty about it.
In a more vague sense, any story can be a short story. It’s all about how you tell it. I mean, I’d pay good money to see someone shorten The Epic of Gilgamesh into a short story and make it good, but you get what I’m saying. I’ve read fairy tales, war stories, romances, holiday fluff, deadbeat father stories, midlife crisis tales, murders, you name it. If you can think it, you can do it.
The trick of the trade lies in -
Construction
How do you structure a short story?
You don’t have a lot of space, so, like poetry, you gotta make it count.
[Actually, I recommend trying out writing some poetry, or using it as a warm-up of some kind. Learn some poetic devices because that stuff is crazy helpful. I’m constantly thanking my English teachers and that one poetry class I took for teaching me how to be succinct.]
You don’t have the time to expand everything like you might in a novel. So you gotta whittle down your plot to a few basic steps. Just like an essay. (Eugh.)
I think of short stories as mini arcs. If you are a long form guru, try to think of a short like a single scene. If you’re doing scenes right, that means that each one has its own arc. Beginning, middle, end, emotional change, ending on a positive, negative, or neutral as long as it’s different from where it starts, the works. But a whole lot more localized and focused.
In my mind, a mini arc goes like this (and keep in mind, my stories are usually single location, limited cast, dialogue light, and interiority heavy):
The protagonist is in a place (physical and/or emotional) that can be changed and will change. This is your opening paragraph(s) / first page (if you’re writing a longer story, or your structure is a slow start for pacing). Start answering questions: who are they, what do they want, why can’t they get it?
Inciting incident occurs. This, ideally, happens in the first or second paragraph, no later than the end of the first page. Or before the story and is mentioned as early as possible. In short: it should happen early. A skilled writer can even throw it in the first sentence.
Rising action is as tight as you can get it. It’s more of an approach than a rise, in my opinion. Everything in this part, or these small scenes, leads to the climax and closing - we’re learning about the character(s) and their world, learning what makes them tick and how they think and how the story leads them where they need to go. In my stories, this is the longest part.
The climax point is typically closer to the end than the beginning. Sometimes it’s the last page, last paragraph, or, my personal favorite, the last sentence.
The falling action/denouement is, in my opinion, optional. If the climax happens right at the end of the story, you don’t have much room for it, maybe a sentence or two to close it. Otherwise, this is where you tie a bow around your theme(s) and exit on a mic drop.
While you’re planning your arc, keep an eye out for connective tissue, or threads. If you bring back a detail you mention early on when you’re writing the end, it’ll look like you knew what you were doing the entire time.
The fancy term for this kind of thing is rhyming action. Charles Baxter has a fantastic essay about it (I’ll link to it in the reblog). I highly recommend reading it. Here’s an excerpt that hits the point home:
“...the man... is suddenly struck with what we sometimes call déjà vu, which is only an eerie sense of some repetition, of a time spiral, of things having come around back to themselves... The effect is a bit like prophecy, except prophecy run in reverse, so that it cannot be used for purposes of worldly advancement.
Prophecy run forward gives the prophet the power of forecasting and a habit of denunciation. Prophecy run backward, into rhyming action or déjà vu, gives the participant a power of understanding.”
It’s one of my favorite tricks, and once you learn it, you’ll start to see it everywhere. It’s the equivalent of a 3-part thesis statement for writers: optional, but a good structural tool to keep around.
Keeping it SS
Short Stories are Short and Sweet.
It’s all about finding a way to say what you want to say in as few words as possible. Show vs tell guidelines come in handy here, but you have to use some good judgment and decide the right moments to show and the right moments to tell.
Think about campfire stories. If they’re describing a car, they probably won’t mention any details unless they’re relevant to the plot or message. Do we care if the car is blue? No, unless the color reminds the protagonist of their ex’s nail polish, or something, and that reminder impacts the story in a significant way.
(Details are like dialogue. They advance the plot, reveal character, and/or provide a complication.)
I once read a character description that went like this: “He was the kind of man to never use two words when one would do.”
Be that man. Get the point across swiftly and succinctly. But also know when to draw a moment out. It’s a lot of back-and-forth with shorts. And, as always, it depends.
Remember: Like snakes, stories have a beginning, middle, and end. Some are tiny, some are a little bit longer. Sometimes they look cyclical. Keep your SS SS. (Get it? Ssss, like hissing? Snakes? 🐍)
What If I Need to Shorten What I Already Have?
There’s a technique called greening that you should reserve until your final draft. Basically, it’s taking out every single word that can be removed without losing any of the meaning. This includes frankensteining sentences together, removing extraneous modifiers, and leaving out that detail you like but has zero impact on anything relevant. It’s hard, it’s very hard, but it’s an amazing skill to have.
There’s a great New Yorker article about it, which I will also link to in the reblog.
Have any specific short story questions?
Shoot me an ask! I’ll do my best to help you out! I write lots of short stories and used to be the fiction editor for a literary magazine, so I’ve got all that juicy editor know-how.
Questions? Ask ‘em! Comments? Make ‘em!
For more writing advice and observations, check out my advice tag.
Like my advice and other writing nonsense? Check out the link to my Ko-Fi in my description!
#writeblr#writing#amwriting#creative writing#writing advice#fiction#short story#short stories#appendix#brainbox#prose#greening#flash fiction#micro fiction#short form#structure#story structure#short fiction
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My interpretations on the new Rammstein album
Alrighty, I think such ‘here’s my opinion how much I liked this and not’ are boring so I’m just gonna write what I think of and read out of the songs. I let out Deutschland and Radio cuz y’all know about them, I guess. Idk even if anybody is interested in this but here we go
Weit weg (far away) - one of my faves
On the first sight it seems to be kind of a love song because till sings about two people - a man watching a women undress and seeing her naked. Actually, it’s about Voyeurism. He is standing at her window, presses his face against the glass, there’s no interactions between them and she is the 'queen of his fantasies’. 'Ganz nah - weit, weit weg von mir’ (really close - far, far away from me) - he is incredible close to her and sees intimate moments, but he isn’t supposed to, they probably don’t even know each other. So, actually, emotionally they are far away from each other.
Diamant (diamond) - only sad song, big fave
Kind of a love song, Till is mostly singing about how beautiful the other person is, how bright her eyes shine, “how clear and pure” she is. It already sounds like as if he were in mad love with her, but he also wants her to finally 'let him go’, he wants to leave tho she is so marvelous 'like a diamond, but also just a stone’. He tried to reach her heart but wants to 'love someone who is able to hate’ - is she too perfect? Are they even together, or is it just him who struggles to let his love for her go? Maybe she doesn’t feel anything, doesn’t have anything except her beauty and is cold-hearted, diamonds “are just stones”.
Zeig dich (show yourself) - a fave, its really nice
Obviously a song about the church, unlike Hallelujah (which is about the child abuse of priests) this one is about the church in general. Most of the text are enumerations,“[they] do crime … forgiveness of all crimes, burn, … tracking, … accidentally abuse children” (Irony, damn that’s fore sure provocating) always ending with 'in the name of god’ which describes the long history, mostly the negative aspects and how the church allowed themself to do anything if they say they do it in gods will - a lot of people believed that. The dramatic choir underlines how much power the church had and how often it abused its power. 'Show yourself … we lose the light’ - religion gives humans hope and something to believe in, exploited by the church, but all these things are hidden behind a mask.
Puppe (doll (sometimes also puppet, toy)) - probs most interesting one
The protagonist is a child, who got a doll as a gif from his sister (he calls her 'Schwesterlein’ so he is probably way younger?). Her workplace is in the room next to his, he sees men coming there, 'sometimes it’s even two [men]’ - she is a prostitute. While she works, he is looking at the sky, taking his medicaments [like a good boy] - so he must be sick in some way. Since he 'rips off the head of the doll, bites off the neck of the doll’ and sings 'I really don’t feel good’ it’s probably something mental. Later, he watches through the keyhole how his sister gets beaten to death, he continues ripping of the head and biting off the neck but now 'he feels finally good’. No parents are mentioned, so the sister seems to be the only relative, probably being responsible for him and buying him the medicaments (one of the only details we get so they have to me important in some way). Maybe he didn’t like her and he imagined the doll is her? Being unhappy because she is still alive and after she got killed, finally being happy? Maybe, he is happy that he won’t need to take medicaments anymore, he looked the whole day outta the window and seemed to do nothing, bc the meds blocked him)
Was ich liebe (literally 'what I love’, in this context, “the things I love”) great song
Fans who heard through some demos should know this one because it’s the demo of Pussy. They used the very different lyrics and refreshed them (changed the 'will die’ to 'will verderben’) , making them into a song about a person which doesn’t want to be happy, doesn’t want to enjoy and doesn’t want to love. A lover of him will 'verderben’ - it’s a prediction, he doesn’t even think it just 'could’ happen, it will happen. He will be unlucky at some point and suffer, 'in luck is also ubglück’, he fears to be hurt so much that his lover 'must’ verderben. Though, he still talks about a lover, so next to this fear, he still does and wants to be happy, enjoy and to love.
Tattoo (tattoo) - I like the music and singing but the topic is boring to me
Pretty simply, it’s about tattoos. He compares paper with his skin and describes noticeably often the pain “when the pain hugs the flesh…” you feel while getting one and how much he likes them on his skin. ‘Show me yours [and[ I’ll show you mine’ it sounds more like a demand as if it were something intimate. Also, after gettin the name of the lover tattooed - in case that the partner would end the relationship - he would prefer to find another partner with the same name instead of erasing the tattoo. He’s just crazy for tattoos.
Hallomann (is norwegian and a word for moderator or similiar) - pretty good?
It sounds kinda as if he would like to spend his time with a little girl. He’s telling a her to “just get in” and to “dance for him” but he doesn’t want her to speak. They go together to the sea, he buys stuff for her. ‘You are alone’ - the girl is alone, maybe she was walking around alone? - and he is ‘all alone’, this sounds more like on an emotional base, being lonely. Not sure of in a romantic or a platonic way. After the dancing would come the Hallomann to her - I really don’t see the connection. Later they sunbath, do something with skin and sand. She has to ‘give her word’, take his hand and afterwards it won’t be the same. ‘Perl on the ring’ - a wedding ring? I’m not even sure if the person himself is an adult or maybe just a boy. In the end he says ‘don’t ask for the meaning’, maybe he just wanted to spent a nice day with her. It got some pedophile vibes at the first sight but nothing really indicates it. Maybe I just don’t see the methaphors lol okay everybody says it's about a pedophile and I guess;; he used phrases pedophiles often use
Ausländer (foreigner) - sounds like Schlager Urgh [german trigger] but good
Simply just a Gigolo jumping from one bed to another and fucking his way through the whole world. He doesn’t even “stay over night, just for 1 or 2 hours.” Anyways, it’s practical to speak many languages so he can talk with the foreign women. In that way he tells us that he’s good in these and speaks a lot, but the last sentence means something like ‘you coming with [me], I’m you doing goodd’ which is pretty bad in grammar but it’s enough to let her know what he wants.
Sex (sex) - love the melody and riffs, really good one
Uhm also pretty much just about sex? Sex without feelings tho. He ‘gets sick when he looks at you’ - it’s really just about the act - ‘mine is yours and that in you’. This is underlined by ‘better slovenly than again not’, he probably put the ‘again’ before the ‘not’ to let it stand out, again, so they already did it at least a couple of times, or better said, didn’t do it. Maybe they are in a relationship? But he can’t look at her anymore, he just wants her body for sex - and only the important parts. The contrast to that is the refrain, ‘We live only once, we love the life, we love the love, we love sex.’ The last sentence is ‘We live because … sex.’ So, he sings often they love the life and in the end it’s they only live for sex = they love just the sex.
#i could go deeper into the material but oof who even wants that lmao#some songs confuse me anyway#rammstein#personal#song interpretation#r+#if you see grammar mistakes just eat em i didnt watch it too much to b correct everywhere#if theres anything strange or in german just at me bc i dont see it then
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The Worm Reads: Empire of Storms, Ch 30 - 31
We got a special treat for y’all today; a double update! Mostly ‘cause the next few chapters are gonna be massive fish to boil, and ‘cause I love you guys.
After two weeks of inching across the muddy open plains, Elide was tired of using her mother’s name.
Christ, I completely forgot about this subplot. Bad pacing who?
Elide says she’s barely interacted with Lorcan or slept by him which is. What. I thought you were supposed to be smart, Elide! You’re pretending he is your husband, if you two act all distant someone is gonna get suspicious. I thought you were better than this....
Lorcan stalked ahead and said without looking back, “We finished at the three dungeons and their entrances yesterday night. Tell me about what’s inside them.”
Elide gets all nervous and Lorcan points out her scent has changed, which is just, ah.... oof. SJM you uh, you got something you wanna tell the class? Something about a werewolf kink, perhaps?
Elide refuses to spill the beans and Lorcan gets all pissy.
We have a bargain, girl.”
Elide met that depthless gaze. “You did not specify when I had to tell you. So I may take as much time as I wish to recall details, if you desire to wring every last one of them from me.”
There’s the Elide I know! Finally, a character doesn’t have to be all powerful and magical to succeed and be an actual force.
“What are you,” [Lorcan] said quietly.
“I am nothing,” [Elide] said, voice hollow. Maybe once she found Aelin and
Aedion, she’d find some purpose, some way to be of use to the world.
Aaaaand take it back. Unless you’re serving Aelin, you’re useless and have no purpose! Or you’re an evil slutty bitch who should be put down. I am so fucking tired.
They finally finish their bickering session and return to the others, then we switch to Lorcan’s POV. They’re setting up tents for everyone, including one for Elide/Lorcan.
Ombriel came forward, throwing her usual wary glance his way, and slyly informed Elide they’d finally have a night alone together.
Arms full of logs, Lorcan could only watch as that pale face of sorrow and despair transformed into youth and mischief, into blushing anticipation, as easily as if Marion had held up a mask.
Finally. It’s like you two want this plan to fail or something.
“I’ll sleep on the ground,” [Lorcan] offered blandly. “You take the roll.”
“What if someone comes in?”
“Then you’ll say we got into a fight.”
“Every night?” Marion pivoted, her rich eyes meeting his. The cold, weary face was back.
zzzzzzzz this drama is so boring please progress the plot or do something of interest
They bicker more about Lorcan getting a bath and he asks her how badly her leg hurts. Such riveting dialogue.
Lorcan’s thoughts drifted toward Rowan and his bitch-queen.
Jfc. At least we’re spared Lorcan splooging over them, instead thinking about how much he hates them and how Rowboat was an idiot for falling in love with Alien. Damn, you know it’s bad when I agree with Lorcan.
Lorcan was about to leave when [Elide] said, “My uncle … He is a commander at Morath.”
So Elide drops that bomb, and Lorcan offers to kill her uncle. Not much else happens. This subplot is so mind numbingly boring and dumb. Next!
Well, on the one hand, at least Rolfe’s map worked.
It had been Rowan’s idea, actually. And she might have felt slightly guilty for letting Aedion and Lysandra believe the Pirate Lord had only gone after the Amulet of Orynth, but … at least they now knew his unholy map functioned.
This is the first paragraph + sentence of chapter 31. Who is she? Use names when switching to a new POV gdi!!! Alien doesn’t get name dropped until the bottom half of this page.
As for the rest of it … It was just past midnight when Aelin wondered how the hell she and Rowan would ever go back to normalcy if they survived this war.
I’m imagining it’ll be something akin to the A Court of Wings and Ruin; where you guys will angst about how much the war cost you and how everything is different, but in actuality nobody you cared about died and no one important was even permanently injured, and the supposed trauma was just an excuse for porn.
Alien and Rowboat dramatically sneak into a room through the window, using Rowboat’s magic to close it. Gav and Fenrys are waiting inside.
“You could have used the door,” Fenrys said, arms crossed—a bit too casually.
“Why bother when a dramatic entrance is so much more fun?” Aelin countered.
Because this isn’t a video game and you’re a princess who is supposed to be a good diplomat and ruler? I’ll forgive SJM if Alien becomes queen, pulls dramatic shit like this, and is instantly banished from the kingdom and Darrow is crowned king. I’d pay extra to read that.
Gavriel’s tattooed hands closed into loose fists. “You deny me the right to see my son and yet you barge into our room in the dead of the night to demand we divulge information about our blood-sworn queen.”
“One, I did not deny you anything, kitty-cat.”
Gav deserves better than to have to put up with Alien’s edgy teenager bullshit. She sounds straight out of the 2012 internet phase.
Fenrys asks if Alien has Settled yet for.... some reason. It’s explained here;
She knew enough about it—the transition pureblooded Fae, and some demi-Fae, went through once their bodies locked into immortal youth. It was a rough process, their bodies and magic needing months to adjust to the sudden freezing and reordering of their aging process. Some Fae had no control over their power—some lost it entirely during the time it took to Settle.
Basically it’s an excuse for SJM’s character to stay young appearing and beautiful forever. Because if you’re old in a SJM book you’re instantly not hot and therefore, not good enough for porn.
“How does she do it?” Aelin asked baldly. “With Rowan, it’s not … Every order I give him, even casual ones, are his to decide what to do with. Only when I actively pull on the bond can I get him to … yield. And even then it’s more of a suggestion.”
“It is different with her,” Gavriel said softly. “Dependent on the ruler it is sworn to. You two took the oath to each other with love in your hearts. You had no desire to own or rule him.”
Are we really out here praising and kissing Alien’s ass for not treating her boyfriend like a slave? Are you fucking kidding me???? Next we’ll have them weeping in joy at Alien wiping her ass after taking a shit.
She gave him a little smile that she knew drove Rowan and Aedion insane, and—yes. It seemed it was a surefire way to piss off any Fae male, because ire flashed across Fenrys’s stupidly perfect face.
I fucking hate Alien. Also we get it, Fenrys is drop dead gorgeous like everyone else, you can stop now.
Fenrys’s edged smile flashed. “Oh, the losses of Fae lives would be of little concern to [Maeve]. It likely just increases her excitement about it.”
“Careful,” Gavriel said. Gods, he nearly sounded identical to Aedion with that tone.
Hhhhhh stop I hate Assdion.... stop making me fucking have feelings over how much he resembles Gav....
“If we say she gave us the order to take everything,” Fenrys drawled, bracing his hands behind him on the bed, “will you kill us, Heir of Fire?”
“It’ll depend on how useful you prove to be as an ally,” Aelin simply said.
The weight hanging between her breasts beneath her shirt rumbled as if in answer.
“That’s it?” Fenrys demanded. “Do we get to know what you plan to do with this information, or are we just your lackeys, too?”
Sorry Fenrys, them’s the rules. You either bow down to SJM’s perfect snowflake protagonist or you’re a villain who deserves to be slut shammed and killed off.
Rowboat and Alien start making out. Skip!
Oh, gods—this. This was what drove her out of her mind—this fire between them.
They could burn the entire world to ashes with it. He was hers and she was his, and they had found each other across centuries of bloodshed and loss, across oceans and kingdoms and war.
You’re just making out, it is literally not that deep. I hate SJM trying to sell her romances as epic world stoppers. No, you two are not Aragorn and Arwen. You both are just horny assholes who deserve to rot.
“Even when you’re in another kingdom, Aelin, your fire is still in my blood, my mouth.” She let out a soft moan, arching into him as his hand grazed her backside, not caring if anyone spotted them in the streets below.
JESUS CHRIST HAVE SOME RESTRAINT YOU SHAMELESS FUCKERS. And no, they don’t actually have sex here. Just you wait, SJM has something special in store for that.
Thank god this chapter is over. But it is only a preview into the madness SJM has in store for us several chapters down the road......
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2017
I lost my grandpa. He was my biggest fan, present at all the major events in my life, always reminding me to include “Razon” whenever I write my name so that people would know I was his granddaughter. For all those times he was there for me, I wasn’t by his side when he passed - I missed it by a few hours. Cancer takes the best people, and it had been months of going in and out of the hospital and nights spent in pain. His death was my first major loss in 28 years.
I started teaching. Four subjects, six classes. For the first five months of 2017, I slept at 10PM and woke up at 1AM to prepare lessons for college students who I hoped would be convinced to care about health inequities and the world beyond their immediate neighborhoods. The non-stop preparation made me miserable, but hearing that our classes made them rethink the way they view public health made me think it was all worth it.
RJ and I stopped talking. We had broken up in early 2016, but the slow, tricky fade that comes with “maybe we should give it another chance” and “let’s still try to be friends” dipped into 2017. It’s difficult to take responsibility for a falling out because essentially you’re admitting to being the villain, but I’ll admit that by the end of the story, I was the person hurting someone who genuinely would’ve given me his world at that point. It wasn’t fair to him that I stick around much longer. We’re no longer in each others’ lives now, but every now and then I see him post about his adventures on Facebook – a marathon here and there, a conquered mountain over the holidays, a dive in some paradise – and I’m sincerely glad to see that he’s happy and doing what he loves.
I fell for someone. How do I talk about it – being fidaa for someone you’re not just attracted to but whose qualities you also genuinely admire and respect, and finding out the person feels the same way? Do I talk about the fairy tale part – the long walks on the beach and the conspiratorial winks, the dinners in palaces and the forehead kisses, the airplane flights, the midnight waltzes, the talking about the future? Getting to know his family and his dog and being shown his childhood photos, entering his world and being allowed to see the many different sides and nuances to him? Or do I talk about the part that comes after – the reality of distance, the weight of expectations, the resistance of religion and culture? Having to choose between a friendship or a relationship and deciding in the end to go with the safer, some say smarter, path even if it leaves behind a dull ache? A lot of it feels like a lifetime ago, a function of things happening and ending so fast, I suppose. Maybe we were in over our heads, maybe we gave up too easily or maybe we gave it the best we could. It’s still something I think about every now and then, but no matter how things worked out, I’m very thankful Vishal became and still is part of my life.
I got rejected for a scholarship I had based a lot of my dreams and plans on. It’s funny how one sentence can completely change the direction of your life – suddenly I didn’t have an escape plan from my mundane life anymore, suddenly I didn’t seem good enough or smart enough or inspirational enough, suddenly my global health dreams seemed even further away, suddenly the possibility of a relationship with someone I deeply cared about was quashed. But they say when God closes a door, some way He opens a window. I’m still trying to find where those windows are haha and sometimes it feels like I’m trying to break some of them open by myself, but I’m trusting His plan, and who knows where it will take me.
I got disillusioned with religion. That’s hard for me to admit out loud, a pastor’s kid and a relatively active member of the church, but I promised myself I’d be vulnerably honest with this blog post. My spiritual life definitely took a dip last year as I struggled with the concept of tradition, legalism, exclusivity, and how religion can divide and dismiss people. My tiny SDA bubble was popped and I had many different conversations with friends from different faiths – Hindus, Catholics, Taoists, Buddhists, deists, atheists – all wonderful, intelligent people whose beliefs and values were sincere and valid. I questioned almost all of my own beliefs, trying to reconcile what I had always been taught with the ones I was now coming across, hoping God wouldn’t feel betrayed by my doubts and instead recognize that I was sincerely trying to find out the truth about Him. I’ve been praying more and more lately though and working out my faith again, asking that I become the type of Christian that reflects the goodness of Jesus.
I lost my phone. It wasn’t just a gadget – I had bought it in Geneva and it contained all my memories since then, everything I’ve discussed here. Audio recordings of my grandpa snoring and saying “I love you” that I had kept because I didn’t want to live in a world where he wasn’t able to tell me that anymore. Thousands of meaningful Whatsapp messages. Photos of everywhere I’d been. But oh well. If anything, losing my phone was probably the universe telling me to move forward and start anew with a blank slate.
I realize now that I’ve been talking about 2017 with what feels to me like a very somber tone, when actually, it was quite an amazing year when I think about it. I traveled to seven different countries in five months. I stepped on the marble floors of the Taj Mahal, saw the lights of the Bund and The Peak in their full glory, presented a paper in Thailand, watched the sun rise over Angkor Wat, swam with millions of sardines in Moalboal, and went scuba diving in Boracay. I adjusted to work and have somehow regained my old motivation and productivity back, while maintaining work-life balance. I met new people – Ines, Adrian, the La Union peeps, Jessy. I reunited with old friends – my AUP kids, my Salty Interns, my ISKRABS. I went ahead and applied for grad school anyway, because I can just pretend tuition fees don’t exist, right? Haha. I learned how to float, it turns out all you need to do is to keep breathing (ooh is that a metaphor for life). I stopped being apologetic and embarrassed about my feelings and emotions, because they’re just as valid as everyone else’s. I became both hopeful and cynical, reflective and extroverted, affectionate and uninhibited, determined and purposeful. I’ve said that my entire 2017 was a plot twist, a year I couldn’t have predicted when I started it months ago.
Which now brings me to 2018. It’s been a while since I’ve started a year with what feels like a blank slate – I have no blocked-out dates on my calendar, no confirmed major events or trips to look forward to, no sure milestones planned. I’m not sure how I feel about that. From where I stand it feels like a filler year, and part of me just wants to get it over with and skip over to 2019. But the optimistic part of me says that maybe the vagueness of this year is why I should be excited – there’s so much room for 2018 to surprise me. Anything could happen. And maybe anything will. But I’ll stay on my toes and drive my own life, because if there’s anything I’ve learned from this year, it’s that my life is a product of my choices.
I honestly don’t want to close my 2017, but like the protagonist narrating the end of a feel-good movie where she undergoes significant character development, sheds some naivete, and finds herself standing alone yet strong in the end, I’ll end this on a positive note and give the future a chance, for the best is yet to come. The best is yet to come.
vimeo
Happy new year, y’all.
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beauty and the beast review [’out-of-context spoiler’ warning]
So I saw Beauty and the Beast last night and I actually had some pretty clear thoughts on it! I’m still not fully sure how to get a format for movie reviews, so suggestions would be helpful if you have any thoughts on that!
Overall, I wasn’t super excited about a new Beauty and the Beast ‘live-action’ movie when I first heard about it; it wasn’t my didney favorite as a kid and as much as I liked to defend it, it never really had much for me personally, so I ended up going in without seeing many of the designs or any of the trailers. I just knew the basics that most people already knew when going in: emma watson, cgi, gay lefou, and the story being a ‘darker take’ on the tale.
Honestly, I was very impressed with the changes to the story that this adaption made. The added backstory to the Beast and the Witch were the most key things: showing that the Beast wasn’t a spoiled eleven year old orphaned prince (who honestly wouldn’t have deserved to be turned into a beast and his whole household cursed, no matter who he turned away) but someone older and capable of making his own (cruel) decisions, albeit influenced by the ages and things that had happened to him in life.
Other things that made me quite happen in the story was how the relationship had been changed to make it very clear that it was not stockholm syndrome (something which has been put out-of-context in Beauty and the Beast narratives of the cartoon, when it’s Lima Syndrome if anything) but that Beast and Belle do genuinely have shared interests, and once they are able to talk, they do begin to grow and change as people beside each other. The biggest point to this is the infamous library scene, which detractors say is a false gift because ‘it was already there to begin with, he didn’t actually give her anything except show her where it was,’ and which fans say is Beast trying to cater to Belle’s interest. Instead of it being muddily worded, this time, the Beast simply brings Belle to the library, and upon seeing her interest in books, says ‘well, it’s yours then,’ making it clear this was not planned, but simple surprising correspondence of interest. As much as the servants are certainly in on trying to make Beast and Belle into a ‘thing’ to save themselves (understandably), once Beast and Belle actually do form a connection, the servants quickly lose their control as the two tear off on their own direction.
Finally, one thing that I was very surprised about was the amount of black actors in the movie. The vast majority are background characters, but two prominent servants are revealed to be black at the end of the film, one of them explicitly very beautiful, and the village Father who runs the little library Belle borrows from is black. Several other villages are also black, and there are several end-game mixed romances. Cons where cons are due: most of the black actors were servants which has connotations I don’t think I’m qualified to speak of, I can’t remember if any of the black characters notably spoke to each other, and none of the well known lead characters are black. Still, the casual inclusion of non-white was definitely something refreshing to see, and a trend I hope continues until it’s no longer startling to see multiple named back characters who aren’t playing the martyr-esque perfect magical side character meant to bring out the best in the protagonist/God.
Finally, the issue that I think people were most contentious about: Le Fou.
If you asked our childhood selves, I don’t think any of us would’ve expected walking into a remake of Beauty and the Beast where the character we planned on watching closest was Le Fou.
To get the final verdict out of the way: I personally prefer a Beauty and the Beast that had Le Fou as an explicitly gay character with a flawed portrayal than to have a Beauty and the Beast without a gay Le Fou at all. I think it would have been immeasurably worse to have Le Fou continue to be a gay stereotype bumbling along beside Gaston than to have had Disney not attempt something, but this is my personal opinion, and I do have a lot of reservations.
First of all: I don’t think Le Fou was explicitly gay in the film. We knew from interviews beforehand, but going into the film itself? It felt more like they were trying to hint at it than anything. The only moments Le Fou does anything ‘explicitly’ gay is when it’s played for laughs, particularly in the scene where Le Fou whips up the crowd to praise Gaston. He’s treated better than his cartoon counterpart--he has brains and charisma, and is treated and viewed more as Gaston’s right-hand rather than a bumbling lackey, but the root of the problem still remains that, in trying to keep true to the basic narrative (Belle goes to Beast, Gaston and town follow, Gaston tries to kill Beast) they have also left Le Fou ineffectual and unabe to deviate from his ultimate role as a side character who could vanish from the plot with no consequence. Just because he’s more charismatic and his comedy comes from his snarky muttering than his foolishness doesn’t mean he’s given any more plot weight than before--and that does make me sad.
It also makes me sad that it wasn’t more explicit and the only moments that were explicit were jokes. If I were a child or uninformed adult walking in, I’m not sure if I would realize that Le Fou was in love with Gaston, despite Josh Gad’s admirable acting. I wish there had been more opportunities taken in the movie to make this more explicit, but Le Fou comes across as someone who’s trying to get Gaston to focus on other ladies… not on himself.
And on the level of those outside the movie theater: Howard Ashman was a lyricist for Beauty and the Beast, revitalizing Disney and notably writing the eponymous song featured in the film (Tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme, Beauty and the Beast). Ashman was gay and severely ill while working on Beauty and the Beast, dying in 1991 of AIDs shortly after it was completed without ever seeing the final product. For two decades after the death of the man who helped revitalized Disney, in 2017, Beauty and the Beast should absolutely have a gay character in it, and perhaps Le Fou was indeed a good choice for that!
But the fact remains that Le Fou is named “the crazy/insane” one, is the only character in a miserable, abusive relationship, and in a film where we get not one but multiple happy straight couples at the end, the sole gay person is left alone and miserable in the climax except for a single blink-and-you-miss-it scene (that I did almost miss due to being in the middle of blinking and so I didn’t even see his face and I just kind of assume it was him because of costuming) and then is never mentioned again.
So I don’t know what Howard Ashman would’ve wanted. I don’t know how any of his surviving loved ones may feel. I am glad that there was a gay character. But I think that they could’ve given a stronger tribute and homage to a man who helped this company so much, who died a miserable death to a miserable illness, and who created the words to a world that children like him will continue to grow up in.
I know it would be difficult without ‘altering’ the movie’s basic plot too much, but even just little things might’ve gone over well: Belle’s father finding Le Fou afterwards and comforting him, perhaps, both having to leave behind the people they loved for their own good and the good of those around them. Having some background utensils being gay as well to take the entire strain of representation off of Le Fou. Even just lingering with him a little longer at the end would’ve been appreciated.
I’m glad he was there. But I wish he was a little more.
...finally, some things that are closer to nitpicks:
Beauty and the Beast clearly demonstrates the difficulties with having live animals and CGI animals, re: the live action horse being surrounded by all those goddamn wolves and just bein super chill. Because they’re CGI wolves. It ends up looking like the world’s least startle-able horse, even in scenes where you really really think the horse should be just. Screaming.
Emma Watson appears to be in a separate room from all other characters throughout the entire movie. Part of this is because sometimes she is, as she has the most parts in the movie with only CGI characters to act off of, and entire scenes where she’s expected to just sit there looking impressed at the thin air (see: be our guest). The problem comes with what I’m assuming is a directorial decision to also have her act like she’s completely ignoring the townspeople half the time earlier on in the film, and then later saying that she feels like she’s shunned by them. We do have one scene of bullying, but unfortunately it’s overshadowed by everything else, and when you put it together, it looks like she had to film the whole movie but the end in a completely different room from everyone else.
Lastly:
...seriously, you can tell those wolves were not the priority for the animation team, oh holy hell.
TLDR: overall good film, liked the plot changes, conflicted but supported about le fou, i realized I didn’t mention Gaston but that was just because he was so seamlessly in that I totally blanked, y’all did fucking great with Gaston, nitpicks about wolves and CGI that I’m sure the animation dept. would like to Explain Why We Did That, M’AAM and I trust you all i’m sorry. It’s just. The wolves. And please give Emma Watson irl people to bounce off of. Please. She does so much better with that. You can’t just force her to look bemused but affectionate all the time, it doesn’t work.
3.5/5 thumbs up. Pretty good but not stellar for my taste, but worth a gander if you’re curious.
#beatext#beauty and the beast#beauty and the beast spoilers#beauty and the beast review#batb2017#batb live action#film review#long post#'I am a film major' I whisper into the night#le fou#overall positive but I spent a lot of time on the controversies#as a warning
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