#but they botched TF out of the writing for it and i will never ever forgive kr for it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 4 years

Note

Why don’t you like Life is Strange?

Oof, there’s a question.

I have a lot of issues with Life is Strange and those who watched my streams of this game know all about it, but for the rest of you, allow me to explain.

I played Life is Strange back when the episodes were still coming out, back in 2015, and I was into it. I wasn’t nearly as into it as I am into twdg, but I enjoyed it enough to watch videos on youtube and look at the tag on here. I had a lot of the same issues that I have today, but I was more forgiving, I guess.

However, then the final episode came out and I’m pretty sure that it was so bad that I blacked out. And that was that until when I streamed the game again as an older CJ and.... eh.

My #1 problem: Chloe Price.

The damn deuteragonist of the game.

Can’t stand her. I’m sorry, I know so many people apparently love her and will be completely offended that I dare speak ill of their blue-haired steampunk, but I can’t see it.

She’s terrible. She’s horrible. She is the worst “best friend” character. She ruins the entire game for me. Is that harsh? Yes, but it’s my honest opinion.

She’s manipulative, irresponsible, selfish, reckless, disrespectful, resentful, self-entitled, arrogant, inconsiderate, unwilling to improve, clingy, whiny, and so many more bullshit adjectives that it hurts my brain.

But apparently, I’m supposed to forgive ALL those negative qualities and care about her because 1. She and Max are besties... apparently. 2. She’s had a hard life so it’s not her fault. 3. Punk baby did nothing wrong

I just... nope. Can’t. Tragic backstory doesn’t excuse being an idiot with guns, getting mad at Max for answering a phone call from her suicidal friend, guilt-tripping Max into fucking around with guns even though she literally just passed out with a bleeding nose, then once again guilt-trapping Max for NOT attempting to murder her drug dealer, getting pissed off for not agreeing with her on anything, stealing from the handicap fund so that she can pay her drug dealer, then being pissed off when Max doesn’t want to, never taking responsibility for anything because “gotta blame somebody, otherwise it’s all my fault. Fuck that.”, is so obsessed with getting Rachel back that she murders Frank and his dog which forces Max to ONCE AGAIN fix this mistake, she’s never truly thankful that Max goes through all this bullshit to keep her alive and constantly being an idiot who won’t listen to Max and I just-

...I just can’t with this dingus.

I never saw the appeal to Chloe, even back in 2015.

Though back then I blamed it on the fact that I too had blue hair and that made me associated with her and I was always like fuck that.

Oh, and don’t even get me started on Before the Storm Chloe, we’re not gonna go there.

Like, look... as I said before, there are a lot of people who love Chloe, who adore Chloe because they enjoy how flawed she is and love her design and will always choose the bae ending because they feel she deserves it. They would read this and be like “well, actually you fucking idiot-” and that’s fine.

Know that this isn’t an attack on you. You can love her all you want, but I still can’t stand her. My opinion, y’know? I’m simply answering anon’s question.

It just boggles my mind... Chloe doesn’t change until the last ten minutes of the game and for the life of me, I can’t think of a single redeeming quality with Chloe. And honestly, if Max didn’t have her time powers but Chloe still didn’t die within the bathroom and they met up, their friendship would’ve fallen apart within the week.

And yes, I know. She lost her dad, she’s gotta deal with David, her angel Rachel is missing, she’s angsty, teenage rebellion- yep, that explains her terrible behaviors but it doesn’t excuse it.

I’m sorry, but Chloe makes me mad and is the #1 reason I’ll probably never play Life is Strange ever again.

If you’ve been here awhile, you’ve heard me talk about how worried I was that Violet would end up being a Chloe clone because of the minor similarities they share such as “lesbian with abandonment issues and still mourning the loss of a girlfriend who seemed too good to be true” but BOY OH BOY

Chloe fucking wishes she was as amazing as Violet. Violet is far superior to Chloe and I know I give the writers and devs of tfs a lot of shit for certain things but I will always be thankful that they didn’t make Violet into a Chloe clone.

UGH.

...Anyway, other reasons why I don’t particularly love Life is Strange-

The ending is a let down

the final choice isn’t really a choice

that fucking nightmare sequence?? that I blacked out??

Jefferson as the big secret baddie is... well, dumb, I guess.

Also rich boy doesn’t have any other purpose other than to be a red herring then die. also that voice mail?? fantastic. good job. way to do something with your main antagonist.

not enough Kate

not enough Mouth

dialogue is hella cringe but that can also be a good thing if you’re in the right mood soo...

Victoria is the worst

But yeah...

Honestly, if I were in the right mood, I could write an entire essay on why Life is Strange is somehow a win and a failure as a game because, despite what you may think after reading this, I don’t hate everything about this game.

I really like the time travel mechanics, I really liked Kate as a character and wished we could’ve focused more on her outside of ep2, the drugged girls in the darkroom is a legitimately creepy storyline that got botched, and Max is likable for the most part.

Again, the only time I can’t agree with Max is when she obsesses over Chloe but no need to beat the horse- it’s dead.

There’s your long answer as to why I don’t like Life is Strange, anon.

#asks #if you watched my life is strange stream then you know the answer #but for the rest of you well... you probably know the answer anyway #but that's just my opinion #you can disagree with me that's fine #just being honest

10 notes · View notes

shortnotsweet · 5 years

Note

Hello, your fiveya pride and prejuice had me on my knees. Everything you have writing for the umbrella academy is so nice, this fandom should be thankfull you are here making gold content. I'm not very creative and I still dont know which kind of prompts you would like, but the last au gave me some Elizabeth Swan vibes, so maybe you could do a Fiveya Pirates of the Caribbean Au? Whatever you make I'm sure will be wonderfull :)

It’s 1732, and Governor Reginald Hargreeves and his two adopted daughters, accompanied by the family butler, Pogo, are sailing to Port Royal aboard HMS Crown when they come across a shipwreck. The lone survivor of the tragedy is a young boy, shaking and shell-shocked. A sympathetic Pogo begs Reginald to allow him to take him in - Pogo himself will rear and provide for the child out of his own wages.

Vanya clutches the railing and looks out into the wreckage, into jagged mountains of burning wood obscured by ink black plumes of smoke that cast a ghostly silhouette against the dreary sky and the great gray sea, and can’t take her eyes off of it. It’s a tragedy, with glowing embers peeking through the remains of the ship, keeping it alive and drowning in the water, and Vanya is fascinated.

I do not want to know what transpired here, she thinks. She doesn’t need to know, anyway - it looks like a wasteland, like something writhing and nearly dead, and then her father takes her by the shoulders and pulls her away.

The boy is raised in a fine household, alongside Reginald’s two young daughters, both of whom are handsome, intelligent, and composed. His truest and most constant friend, though, is Vanya.

The Boy starts out as a Will Turner of sorts, only more confident and living in relative comfort, except with the knowledge that he is an outsider even among orphans, and a survivor of something terrible. He longs to go back.

By 1742, the boy is merely fifteen and already deemed an academic prodigy in a vast array of scientific, mathematical, mechanical and historical studies.

By the end of 1742, he’s gone, vanished into the night and headed for the sea. Vanya, not for the first time in her life, is alone.

Years later, she’s grown into a beautiful yet confined woman. During a botched proposal, Vanya faints, due to a combination of heat, anxiety, and a too-tight corset, plummeting into the harbor below, only to be rescued by a mysterious man

Surprise y’all guess who it is

Five and his crew are under a curse that renders them undead corpses under the moonlight, burdened with immortality. Idk why he’s cursed, ig he just got up to a lot of pirate shit lmao. The gold of his father’s pocket watch is key to breaking this curse, and he’s returned to Port Royal after all these years to retrieve it, after he gave it to Vanya for safekeeping the day before he abandoned the Hargreeves household to rejoin the life of piracy

She agrees, of course, but he is soon confronted by both Reginald and Leonard, backed by the Navy, on account of 1) being a pirate and 2) trespassing and in order to safely escape he takes Vanya hostage

In his time away, Five has become captain of the dreaded Academy, the ship that his own father used to command before the wreck. Vanya initially disapproves of his life choices because he may be older now and like damn ok, but 1) hygiene 2) the ethical ambiguity of piracy and 3) you left me dude without warning ,, tf is up with that?

Cue childhood friends reconnecting in really awkward circumstances + maybe Stockholm syndrome

Luther, Ben, Klaus, and Diego are members of his crew. While Diego is a fantastic swordsman, Ben has a connection with sea monsters that allows him to dissuade nearby creatures from bothering their ship. Klaus is a mystic they picked up along the coast who can communicate with the dead - it’s through him that they learn the specifics of the curse.

Five glances down at her, sleeves rolled above his forearms, his hair dripping saltwater over his brow. “The Romans did it, didn’t they?” Honor among thieves is how the saying goes. “They encouraged it, actually, especially in children. Stealing. Steal from your enemies, steal from your neighbors, steal from your friends.”

At this, Vanya’s eyes narrow. “I wouldn’t steal from my friends.”

Five shrugs.

“It builds character,” he says, “and it builds world skills. If you’re a thief, then you’re fast, resourceful, and, most importantly, you’re still alive. That’s helpful. It can be a good thing, to be a thief.”

“The greatest empire of all time, after Britain, just a whole lot of thieves?”

“That’s Rome, then, a bunch of thieves. The empire essentially stole its own foundation from other civilizations, you know? Arches and aqueducts and art - even the Republic was based on direct democracy.” He leans back and looks at her from under his lids. The floor below them shifts and sways along with the rhythm of the sea, and Vanya leans against the mast to keep her horizon line steady.

“So you’re a history buff now?”

“I always have been,” Five says defensively. “Math is just more exciting. You don’t need to get caught up with the Romans anyway,” Five laughs. “We’re pirates.”

“I suppose I need to find a way to make myself useful, then?” Vanya crosses her arms, squinting under the white hot sun. “Be helpful.” Do as the Romans do.

“No, of course not,” Five says quickly, uneasy, bitter. “You didn’t join the crew, remember? You were kidnapped.”

Days into her kidnapping on the high seas, Vanya ditched her heavy ass dress for a practical pair of trousers and tied her hair up. The sun smiles down on them in a thousand yard stare, reflecting white off the crests of the waves that jostle the ship further away from land, and her white skin has already shown signs of browning. She can breathe, though, better and easier than she’s ever breathed in her entire life

The ocean never ends, but Vanya can see something flickering on the horizon, something that looms across the skyline and drags the sky down to meet it. It feels like hope, like dreams once dashed in her girlhood, and now that it has come out of hiding, unclothed and unabashed under an impossible white sun, Vanya can’t stop looking.

The Academy is still being pursued by the Royal Navy, and Five can’t just return Vanya bc they're not only on the run but they’ve got shit to do, aka curse-breaking shit. Plus, he really, really doesn’t want to

And deep down he can tell that she doesn’t want to either

“But you like it here, don’t you,” he accuses her, hard and fast because he knows she’ll be honest, and the strategist in him wants to size the queen, wants to take her home. “You were miserable back there,” Five reminds her, his own eagerness a tangible thing to his ears. “Reginald made you miserable. Jenkins made you miserable, hell, even Allison made you miserable.” Vanya’s gaze remains unblinking, but the corner of her mouth twitches ever so slightly, her lower lip dragging it down. The sight of it gives him pause, and he wants to stop for a moment, wants to apologize for it, but the conqueror in him leers in approval and he’s plowed too forward, too far already. “You wanted to leave, every second of every day. That’s what you told me,” Five reaches forward to take her by the shoulders, gently crowding her against the railing, and she looks up and into his face, dwarfed by his height. “You’re free now, you’re here. Reginald can’t get to you. Why would you want to go back?”

You’re free now. There’s nothing for you there, he tries to say, and she must get this, because her eyes go alight, just for a second, and her lip curls into a snarl.

The thing is, she’s much happier here, with Five and his crew and a great, endless sea, but she remembers Allison all too vividly, remembers that she left her alone without warning. Vanya knows that it’s like to be left behind, and the thought of Allison alone with only their father for company strikes something hollow and sinking into her chest, something like dread

“I don’t want to go back,” she snaps, harsher than he expected, and he lets go of her. “Of course I don’t.”

You think I want to go back to corsets and Reginald’s voice in every hallway of that old, evil house, and Leonard crowding me everywhere, acting like I’ve already said yes, and this stench of absence that follows me wherever I go.

Oh, she realizes, of course he doesn’t.

“Then don’t.”

Vanya glares at him, hard and herself, and he can see the betrayal sink into her face and settle like silt at the bottom of a glass.

“It’s because we’re family,” she says, and the fifteen-year-old in Five finds himself enraged because Vanya’s family is supposed to be here, with him.

“I need to see her again,” Vanya enunciates carefully, forming every word with a nervous kind of fear, like she thinks he won’t understand, and Five’s anger dissipates almost as quickly as it had risen.

They’re going to break that curse, and Five will be a real boy (man) again. Allison won’t be alone, because her sister will come back for her (just as Five came back for Vanya). They’ll all have real, red, beating hearts, and Five will have Vanya for himself and Vanya will have one thing all her own - she has an entire ocean to conquer and no regrets

For once, Vanya has a choice, and it’s a pirate's life for her

#fiveya #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #ask me anons #mini fic #i havent seen this movie since fourth grade and know shit about pirates smh #and this is not my best writing plus i wrote it at like 1 in the morning #but i do love the concept of a pirate Five and a Vanya just looking for agency in her life #thank you so much btw and if you have any other prompts hit me with them as hard as you can #pirates of the caribbean au

115 notes · View notes

seancekitsch · 4 years

Text

Who tf do i think i am doing some actual writing?? Anyway here’s a Phaedra and Hux oneshot

Armitage Hux was in a bad mood; but when wasn’t he lately? The blaster hole in his leg had healed, thanks to some Bacta spray and Phaedra’s quick work, but he would have a permanent limp. When she made a joke that they would have matching limps, same leg and everything, he had snapped at her and refused to say anything since. Even after he had been set up with fresh linens in a home he did not know she had owned, and a small hot meal that appeared to be the only food she had. That was two months ago. In that time, he’s been adjusting to what would apparently be his new life. Going to and from the house, learning to fish, learning to grow some vegetables, practicing his best walk. He supposed that was the root of it all. A reminder of who he was and how none of it meant anything in the end. And even if Phaedra was right, and they had even more in common now, it was the way that she walked that made his new gait more of a problem to him. She had had a slight limp for years, he remembers right after his promotion to General she botched a job and was injured, receiving rehabilitation like a wounded bird in the finalizer Medbay while he drafted up the plans for starkiller base. These days she walked with crooked confidence; but no matter how proud or how straight he stood, he couldn’t command the same control of himself. He was older, stronger, this should be easier for him than it is.

They talked infrequently, only when she appeared at the house, more like an apartment cut into the side of a hill, and when asking what he’d like her to bring to him. He’s always been thankful at her generosity, something Arkanis hadn’t beaten out of her, and for the corellian brandy he was currently sipping. It was room temperature and a little too new for his tastes, but he supposed that cheap liquor was far better than the alternative path his life could have taken. Maybe he should be a bit more open with her, given she was the only reason he was safe, but pride is one hell of a barrier to overcome. He figured by the end of this glass she would be back, and he would haphazardly help unpack the supplies from her hoarders nest she called a ship. And it would make sense that her sloppier habits that he couldn’t stand would be something that Arkanis had also failed to beat out of her.

When they had met, she was a ripe and boisterous seven year old, outspoken and known for causing trouble, always upset when her cuteness couldn’t get her out of the consequences of her actions. Until they days they finally could. She was a pretty girl growing up. She knew it, and so did a lot of the older officers at the academy with leering eyes, his father and his father’s friend Pryde included. That’s probably why the girl he used to call “the little empress” was finally allowed to take classes instead of him dropping copies of his notes that he just happened to know she wanted to study. She had charmed the people she needed to.His few friends at the academy snubbed her quickly, not just for being five years younger than them, but also for being the daughter of their custodial staff. He didn’t need to explain to her why he had the smallest of soft spots for her. He truly was sad when she left the academy. He thought she looked beautiful in a first order uniform, but he figures this suited her better. Stars forbid if he had ended up being her superior and he knew she wouldn’t have ever stood for him reprimanding her. It never stopped him from offering her jobs, first order or not, even while he was feeding information to the resistance. Perhaps he should have enlisted her help as the mole, but the sound of her ship as it touched down on the rocks outside the house jarred him from that thought.

When Phaedra entered with arm strung with bags, Armitage Hux immediately noticed something was different. The last few times he had seen her, she seemed ragged and overworked. But today she walked in refreshed, a small contented smile tracing her features and that regal way she carried herself chest forward had returned. He greeted her quietly; a nod, an attempt at a smile, and rising from the reclining seat he had been languidly draped over. He noticed she hummed as she unpacked her clothes and blaster as well as food he knew they would eat later. She always brought a fresh feast with her when she returned. Armitage had noticed that he was less skinny these days, still lean but not emancipated as the first order had left him. He figured that this is what it was like to eat a full meal, and noticed he liked not feeling like he needed more.

“Job go well?” The words sounded foreign to her ears, she was almost unused to her friends voice and her hum stopped mid note. Phaedra placed the last of the fruit she had brought into the small cold box they kept before she responded.

“Not a job. Not this time.” Her smile fell a little, mostly because she knew Armitage was not going to like what he was about to hear. It’s not like she cared too much; her business was her own business, but he was always protective of her and judgmental of her choices. But today she had hoped they would be able to talk and have some wine like the old friends they were.

“Then what? What’s got the little empress walking on air?” Armitage had hoped it meant good news. His mind almost wandered to the celebratory pastries they had eaten when she let him know Kylo Ren and Pryde had died. Maybe the fruit she had would become filling for something baked.

“Oh nothing, Bala-Tik just sends his regards. Says he recommends practicing without the cane.” And that’s when he noticed the line of hickies trailing from the skin behind Phaedra’s ear to where the neckline of her shirt starts under her collarbone, and he could see red. He always hated Bala-Tik. The man was greasy, greedy; a rabid thing that he would have thought that losing his gang to a bunch of rathtars would have made him more docile.

“Are those from him?” And as hard as he tried, he couldn’t hide the fact that he had blanched at the purple and yellow splotches on her skin. And he knew he was caught. He was nineteen again, she was fourteen, and he was passing judgement on her first relationship again. Or it was two months ago, when he was fervent and raising his voice because his saviors in the resistance had happened to be the very same pesky and mysterious boyfriend Phaedra had kept hidden from him for so long.

If he had been asked the next morning, he couldn’t explain the argument that truly erupted or why it did. He couldn’t explain the hollow feeling in his chest, just that it was present. Nevertheless, he meekly apologized the next morning, feeling like a dog with its tail between its legs. It was rare for Armitage Hux to say the word sorry, but he had said it to her twice that morning in an attempt at a rare show of feeling. And she forgave him, because Phaedra knew this was his ridiculous way of looking out for her.

#phaedra meln #my oc #phaedra meln x general hux #general hux x oc #i write??? what the fuck #tros spoilers #general hux fanfic #my work

8 notes · View notes