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mushrubes · 2 years

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1 | Lunch

I was made for lovin’ you

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Pairing : Eddie Munson x (they/them) Henderson! reader

Summary : Eddie finds out the Hawkins’ High ‘angel’, Y/n is Dustin’s older sibling and sends Mike and Dustin to find a sub to step in for Lucas.

Word count : 1.6k

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"The devil...has come to America. Dungeons and Dragons. At first, regarded as a harmless game of make-believe, now has both parents and psychologists concerned. Studies have linked violent behaviour to the game, saying it promotes satanic worship, Ritual sacrifice, sodomy, suicide and even...murder." a voice read out, a group of boys laughing with him. Dustin scrunched his hand into a fist and looked at Mike, taking a deep breath. "Shit, he seems really revved up today." he gasped, now unsure of what to do, not wanting to ruin his mood or mess with the older male. "He's always revved up. We'll just act casual." Mike explained, silently hoping that he wouldn't make a massive deal out of the news they had to drop to him. "Casual. Right, okay. Totally." Dustin repeated, the pair agreeing. They walked over and pulled out the two free chairs left for them, sitting down.

"Society has to blame something. We're an easy target." one of the members explained, the others humming and nodding in agreement. "Exactly. We're the freaks because we like to play a fantasy game. But..." the metalhead started, slamming his hands down and pushing his chair back as he got onto the table, walking down the middle. "As long as you're into band or...science ...or parties." he said sneeringly, glaring at all the groups when mentioned, getting looks and groans from disturbing their lunch. "or a game, where you toss balls into laundry baskets..." he taunted, gaining the attention from the sports table, specifically Jason Carver, the head basketball player.

"You want something, freak?" he asked, standing up and looking at Eddie, pissed off. Eddie smirked before holding his hands up to his head like horns, and making a weird noise, getting laughs from people around them before turning back around. "Prick." Jason mumbled, sitting back down at the table. Y/n Henderson sat two tables away next to Robin Buckley, a spare paper bag in their hand which read 'Dustin' on the front in neat hand writing.

"It's forced conforming. That's what's...killing the kids!" he finished, shouting at the end and slightly scaring a teacher who walked past. He stepped back, gesturing to Y/n and Robin to walk past, a polite smile on his face. "Thank you!" Y/n smiled, Eddie nodding. He sat back down in his seat, tucking his chair in. "That's the real monster." he commented. Y/n walked up to Dustin, tapping his back. "Hey butthead, you left this at home." they said, placing it down in front of him as they received a smile from their younger brother. "Thank you, Y/n! I won't forget it again!" he replied, opening it up and taking the food out, frowning. "Oh, hello Mike! How are you? What's the matter Dustin?" they questioned, seeing his face. Y/n was like the sibling Mike had never had.

Of course, he had Nancy, but she was almost the polar opposite to him and never spent any time with him or his friends and Holly was too young to play with them. Y/n always made time for their brother and the group, probably because they had such a good bond with Dustin, but they would always check up on the others and be there for them - even play d&d with them. "I'm good thank you, y/n!" Mike said giving a thumbs up as Dustin groaned. "I have no juice!" he complained, making y/n roll their eyes. They opened their bag, pulling out their carton and handing it to him. "Have mine for today, but don't expect it again. See you later!" Y/n finished, waving and walking away with Robin, not noticing Eddie's gaze on their back.

"Don't even think about it, that's my sibling." Dustin stated, looking at Eddie. He looked over at him in astonishment. "Your siblings Y/n? Would of never of guessed." he said, making Dustin cough and clear his throat. "Anyway, so uh, speaking of monsters, uh, Lucas has to do his, uh, balls-in-laundry-baskets game." Dustin mentioned, Eddie watching him and listening to his every word. "So..he's not going to be able to make it to Hellfire tonight." Dustin chuckled, nervous of his reaction.

"And... I know there's no way we can beat your sadistic campaign without him. So, me and Mike, we were talking, shooting the shit, and we were thinking that maybe we might..." he stammered, all the eyes looking at him and watching him intensely. "Postpone." Mike finished, annoyed with how long Dustin was taking. The others blew up, chorus of 'Postpone? Can't just drop this on us!' and 'Over my dead body!' getting louder until Eddie had enough. "Shut up!" he shouted, letting out a deep, agitated sigh.

"You saying Sinclair's been taken in by the dark side?" he questioned, looking at the two younger males who quite frankly, looked terrified. "Uh...Something like that?" Mike answered, not sure of how to respond. "Something like that?" Eddie retorted, throwing food at Mike's head. "Jesus Christ." Dustin mumbled, flinching at the flying food. "And rather than find a sub for him, you want...you want to postpone 'The cult of Vecna'?" he responded, glaring even more at them. "I... I don't want to postpone it. We don't want to postpone it. It's just that, you know, most of the subs will be at the championship game." Mike confessed, not really lying because it was true, most of the school did go to watch the Championship game. Eddie got up, pushing his chair back and made his way over to the two boys.

"Oh, It's the championship game? Can I level with you? Jeff graduates this year. Gareth's got what? A year and a half? Me, I am army-crawling my way towards a D in Ms. O'Donnell's. If I don't blow her final, I'm gonna walk that stage next month, I'm gonna look Principal Higgins dead in the eye, I'm gonna flip him the bird, I'm gonna snatch that diploma, and I'm gonna run like hell outta here." he explained, the table laughing at his words. "Didn't you say that last year? And the year before that?" Gareth and Jeff chimed in, Eddie biting his cheek.

"Yeah, yeah, and I was full of shit. This year's different. This year is my year. I can feel it. '86, baby." he assured, the boys chuckling. "You know what that means? It means, you boys, are the future of Hellfire. I knew it the moment I saw you. You sat on that table right over there, looking like...looking like two little lost sheep. You were wearing a weird Al T-shirt which I thought was brave." he admitted, Dustin whispering a thank you before looking away. "Mike, you were wearing whatever shit your mommy bought you from goddamn gap." Eddie teased, making the whole table laugh.

He grabbed them carefully by the necks, mainly holding their t-shirts, and pulled them out of their chairs to the end of the table. "And we showed you, that school didn't have to be the worst years of your lives, right?" Eddie asked, both of them agreeing with him. "Okay, no, no. Well, I'm here to tell you that there are other little lost sheepies out there who need help. Who need...you. And all you guys gotta do, is get your bo-peeps on and go and find one." he said gently shoving them and walking back to the table. Dustin grabbed his paper bag before returning back to Mike and following Eddie's orders.

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Mike walked into the room, well rather burst in, apologising to the others he disrupted. "Nancy! Sorry! Nancy, hey. Um, do you wanna join Hellfire tonight?" he asked, Nancy huffing and shaking her head at him. "Mike! I'm busy! And no, I don't want to join your stupid club!" she said agitated, Mike holding his hands in the air and walking back out, shaking his head at Dustin. They quickly made their way out to the nearest and only phone in the school, Dustin dialling the number. "Can you join hellfire tonight? Just move your date this one time! Come on!" Dustin argued down the phone, getting frustrated. "What, to hang out with you and Eddie 'the freak' Munson? Uh yeah, I'll pass." Steve replied, fiddling with things in front of him, not interested in what Dustin was saying.

"You're just jealous 'cause I have another older male friend." Dustin huffed, Steve scoffing from the other end and pulling a face. "Ew...ugh. Whatever. Besides, I mean, I really dig this girl. I think that she could...who knows, maybe she could be the one. Oh, I got some customers. Call you back, bye." he hurried, hanging the phone up. "No, you can't. I'm at...school." Dustin sighed as he heard the disconnect tone drone. He slammed it down, pointing his middle fingers at it. "Max! Can you join hellfire? Just for tonight!" Dustin begged, catching up to her. "If I play, do I get one of those cool T-shirts?" she asked, pretending to be interested. "Yes!" Dustin laughed, unaware of her antics. "Really?" Max asked, smirking at him and waiting for him to realise. "Everyone gets a t-shirt. We make 'em ourselves, and if you...you're being sarcastic." he finished, Max pulling a knowing face and skating away. "She was being sarcastic." he mumbled to himself.

"I hate high school." Mike groaned as they sat down on the wall, having no luck. "I have an idea." he said, looking over at a crowd, catching a glimpse of someone and running. "What? What? Dustin, where are you going?" Mike called, groaning and running after his friend. "Just trust me!" he shouted back, carrying on going. "What?" Mike questioned again.

"Just trust me, damn it Mike!"

#eddie #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #strangerthings #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things season 4 #eddie munson x henderson!reader

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black-dragon1998 · 3 years

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Stoic keeper and sick girl

Summary:(Y/N) is a goalkeeper for the USA woman national team who at one of their games sees a girl in the stands who catches her eyes. The girl makes memories from the past resurface and secrets are revealed.

Also, COVID19 doesn’t exist in this fic!

warrnings: Talking about cancer. if this is a trigger don’t read. Everything mentioned is from my own experience as may not apply to everybody.

Part 1/?

Around the soccer world, you are known as a stoic and collected keeper, even more than Alyssa. People would even call you cold when you had a bad day. You know the reputation you have and you’re okay with it. That all didn’t take away from how efficient you were on the field and your teammates have learned to take your stoic expression in stride, the girls had learned to leave you alone when you weren’t in the mood of being social. At least they learned to do it most of the time.

other times Carli and Alyssa forced you to interact with the rest of the team and even for how threatening you are those two still scared you.

Alyssa was the first person you bounded with at nationals. the woman was, even more, broodier than you at times. Turns out she liked to wake up early and do Sudoku’s so one morning you joined. The other people you bounded with are Ali and Ash. The first time you had seen Ashlyn you were mesmerized by her tattoos and asked where she got them. The pair was surprised at how enthusiastic you got over them but Ash matched your enthusiasm and during the conversation found more topics the two of you had in common.

The couple found out you turned into a whole other person when you talked about the things you loved.

The others didn’t believe them when until they saw you in a heated debate with Ash about your favourite dog. Since then the veterans went easier on you when you were in a bad mood. Well, the veterans were not the once you had problems with.

The younger players were a tight nit group that liked to have fun. It just seemed that their kind of fun wasn’t your kind. They liked to go out and get drunk, you liked to stay indoors and play videogames or read a good book. At first, you had tried to bound with them but after Sonnett called you a buzzkill when you tried to explain why you liked to read you stopped trying.

Ali and Ash picked up on it but you reassured them to not worry about it and told them you were used to people looking at you like you were weird. You knew they wanted to ask questions but those were memories you didn’t want to explain.

The match against Canada had just ended, which the USA had won with 1 to 0 when a harsh wind picked up and caused you to pull the beanie closer over your ears. The sun may be shining but it was still the dead of winter so it was cold as hell.

Sadly you hadn’t been able to play this match but Alyssa had killed it out there, you couldn’t wait to tell her how amazing she had done.

A girl that couldn’t be older than twelve at the front of the stadium caught your eye. She was bundled up in a thin-looking sweater and a thin-looking bandana on her head, her skin was sickinly pale with a distinct sunburn on her cheeks. The other thing that stood out was the facemask she was wearing. You frowned when you heard kids around her gossip and point at her. Kids could be brutal if they wanted too.

Instead of calling the out you made your way into the stands and made your way to the girl. As you were walking toward them you just knew that you were going to get a reprimanding from Alyssa when you got back about walking off without telling anybody.

The girl hadn’t noticed yet you and was still looking out at the field where the rest of the team was celebrating.

“hello.” You put a hand on the girl's shoulder to get her attention. That scares her a little but you smile at her when she turns around to reassure her.

You see the moment she recognizes you under your beanie.

“you… you are (Y/N) (L/N).” you think it’s kind of cute how the sentence comes out like a question or how flustered she got about it.

“yes, I am.” You respond with a small chuckle.

“ (Y/N) (L/N) is talking to me!” you see the euphoria morph into confusion.

“Why?” she asks after.

“why what?” you ask her in a soothing tone, picking up her distress.

“Why are you talking to someone like me?” the girl questions while looking at the ground.

“I saw all alone in the crowd and wanted to make sure you were okay. Why wouldn’t I want to talk to you?” you keep your voice soothing not to stress her out even more. She mumbles out something under her breath you don’t catch.

“what was that?” you crouch a little so you are eye height with her to hear her better.

However, before she can repeat herself you see a security guard coming up to you and calling out to the girl. What you understand from his yelling is that she snook into the stadium. You felled the little girl stiffen next to you and kind of got the conformation there.

“did you sneak in?” you whisper to the girl. She gave you a small nod.

“What is your name?” you ask her in the same hushed tone. The girl looks up at you with wide eyes but answers non the less.

“Lexa.” Her voice was as small as yours. You nod and stand up turning toward the guard. You keep your face neutral as you talk to him.

“it’s okay, she is with me.” You tell him not referring to the sneaking in. you take advantage of the surprise on his face when he realizes who you are and motion for Lexa to stand up. As you grab her backpack. After basically lying through your teeth the guard leaves and you turn back to Lexa.

You saw her knees buckle when she tried to walk and you quickly scooped her up so she wouldn’t fall. She is also feeling too cold for your liking and quickly put the coat over her that was lying next to her.

“it’s okay I got you.” You feel Lexa snuggle into your warmth and decide to take her somewhere inside. You opted for the trainer's locker room, it should be empty by now and is an environment you can control.

You set her down on one of the benches and place her backpack next to her. Trying to give her a sense of security.

“You can take your mask off if you like. I know how stuffy it can get.” You tell her, taking a seat on the opposite wall. Lexa eyes you curiously, you smile at her to put her at ease.

“Why have you taken me here? Why are you being so nice to me?” she asks, taking off her mask and breathing in deeply. Making you shrug.

“I figured you would be exhausted by now being around so many people especially with that face mask.” You respond not emphasizing how pale and sick she looked. She swallows hard and stares at the ground for a while.

“The doctors say I have to wear it outside because my immune system is to low or something. I don’t really know what that means.” Lexa confesses and you can imagine that is hard to understand for someone so young.

“It is to prevent you from getting sick. Your body is too weak to fight any sickness you might catch from bacteria or viruses.” You elaborate, hoping it makes it a little more understandable for her.

Lexa looks with a certain awe, nobody had ever tried to explain it in such simple words.

“Lexa if I may be blunt can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to but what else did the doctors tell you?” Lexa looks a little bit surprised at your question but when she looks into your eyes and sees nothing but kindness she relaxes again. Taking a big breath she speaks.

part 2

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officialgomezaddams · 3 years

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Morality

I honestly dk what this is but its set in AOTC kinda want to turn this into a little series $wag also shout out to my fellow nihilists this is for you bb

Palpatine had always kept watchful over her but never loomed. It would have been too obvious. When he met Anakin, it was like a breath of fresh air, a realization that this little boy was destined to restore the balance in the force and his daughter, Y/n, would be the one to defeat him. He had begun the idea of his daughter once he joined the Darkside, already knowing that the possibility to be overthrown was something he couldn’t let happen. The dark energy, the power, was simply too much to let go of. The moment he saw the nine-year-old boy, the lord was happy to know that the power would stay on the dark side.

Dooku trained Y/n as a padawan, and when he left the order, he took Y/n with him, kidnapping her into the night. When she asked why they were leaving the temple as he dragged her into a ship, he simply replied, “Sometimes when politicians can’t do their job, we must do something ourselves.” Over the years together, he would open up more, telling Y/n about the death of Qui-Gon and every step that drove him to leave.

“The Jedi rely on selflessness. To strip one’s ability to have connection and emotion. They lose themselves in conformity. We need to take control of the life we’re given. Emotion, passion, drive. Those are how we will be victorious. Corrupt politicians pull the Jedi around like kites on strings. You can not try and save a house that its lousy foundation has torn down. Tear it down and build a new one.”

It was her job to ensure just that, a new foundation set within the heart of the Darkside. Relentless training to mentally and physically defeat the chosen one. Palpatine would often tell her that her destiny was a part of the Sith Two, that the strongest one of the two would survive, and it was to be her. Darth Sidious found comfort that his creation would take over the Darkside once she had killed him and the Count. The most decisive Jedi ruling on the side of the night.

She didn’t quite understand it, but to stay on the Darkside made the most sense to her. It wasn’t about power. It was the lifestyle. Why be selfless if there was no personal gain? Why spend a life living for something else? Shouldn’t one live their life for themselves? Everyone, she determined, had to want something. As long as she did what she wanted, it was enough. It had to be. Because without drive and her idea of what was truly right and wrong, how would she get anything done?

She rationed that it all didn’t matter. She would never know who was right because, in her mind, the concept of being right varied too much. The Jedi thought they were right, the sith thought they were right, the politicians who voted against their people’s needs thought they were right. She had to suffer through Palpatine’s long lectures about how awful the senate was and now terrible the Jedi Order is. But who was to say he was right? That was only his opinion. Who was to say the Jedi were right because a frog that was almost nine hundred years old said so?

“I’m just…” Anakin went on, pulling a piece of grass out of the ground. “I mean, I don’t know. Padmè is beautiful and wonderful. She’s everything that could make someone perfect: marriage, it’s so permanent. I know I’m supposed to be excited, which I am, of course. But what if we were not supposed to be together.”

His speech made her frown. “Sometimes, it’s better just to dive in and see where you land.” She offered. The dreams with Anakin were a peaceful escape to a Jedi’s life. Neither knew why their dreams brought them together or what they even meant. Neither of them bothered, living the same training life on opposite sides. A sweet dream was the perfect reward. “And who are you going to be with then, me?” She teased back.

The setting of the dreams was in the meadows of Naboo. The pastel-colored flowers stood dim in the moonlight from the starry night above. Anakin laid with his head in her lap as they talked about their personal lives, never going in too deep about what their destinies were. Anakin no longer had the pressure of being the chosen one, and Y/n never had to admit she would kill the chosen one.

“I wish,” Anakin admitted, now looking up at her. “I want so bad to meet you Y/n, not just in my dreams but in real life. If I could have you by my side, all of this would be less confusing. I’ve fallen in love with you, a woman in my dreams. Why can’t you be in my reality?”

“Don’t say that,” She whispered. Whenever Anakin talked about his little girl-thing, Y/n wasn’t even one hundred percent sure what their relationship was, and she always felt a slight nic in her heart. Y/n knew that she was in love with Anakin, but to hear about another woman making him the happiest he’s been in the majority of the years that she knew him, that it wasn’t her, the one sneaking in kisses with him in the shadows. It brought out an ugly feeling of jealousy and possessiveness to Y/n that she didn’t know she had.

“I promise, one day, I’ll be with you in all the ways you want.” She spoke with a smile. She would often daydream about what life would be like to meet him real-time. They would run up to each other and crush each other in a hug. She imagined it all.

“Tell me about it,” Anakin edged on, closing his eyes as if it was going to play out in his head.

“Well, I want to go somewhere like D’Qar, somewhere quiet where I won’t have to worry about neighbors or anyone I don’t want finding me. Or us, because you’re coming with me no matter what your soon-to-be wife says,” You teased, making him laugh. “Maybe- Sometimes in my dreams, there’s no Padmè, it’s just us, and every so often there are kids, but it’s just us. Tucked away where we can be together, and nothing can bother us or stop us from being together.”

The silence that sat in between them began to scare Y/n, “Is that a future you would want with me?”

His eyes met hers, a peaceful moment in the chaos of their lives. He reached up to tuck a strand of hair that fell in front of her face, behind her ear. “If I were able to, I would.”

“And why can’t you? Why can’t you have the things you want, Anakin? Is it wrong to be happy?”

Waking up from the dreams was always the most challenging part, the reality of it not being a reality. Y/n woke up already in a bad mood, mentally kicking herself for pushing too far in. Of course, he wouldn’t want to. He’s getting married to someone else. You’re too late. It had always been Y/n’s plan to end up with Anakin in some way or another. From the first dream to now, she decided to leave the Sith once she had killed the chosen one. Somedays, she would pace around, impatiently waiting for whoever held the title to cross her path so she could just finish the job and take the next ship to wherever Anakin was.

She tore the necklace he had given her off her neck, clutching the carven japor snippet in her hand with a grip so hard she could have cracked it if it wasn’t made out of stone. She was squeezing her eyes shut, trying not to cry. Anakin had given Y/n the good luck charm when they were at the age of thirteen. Y/n was upset that once everything was over that he may not want to be with her, the reputation of her choices would drive him away.

“Well, you can’t be that bad,” He commented, pulling out the carved stone from his pocket and shyly handing it to her. “I made this for you,” Anakin explained as she put it around her neck, “So that when good things happen, you can think of me. It’ll be my way of keeping you safe, and in return, one day, you will come to me safely.”

She opened her eyes and stared at the carvings, remembering how Anakin said he made it just for her, so she better not lose it. Y/n wanted to break it, throw it away, and never see Anakin again. She wanted more than just the dreams. She wanted the sunsets and the early morning and the rainy days - all of it. Maybe they were wrong, they weren’t supposed to meet, and it was just a nice dream.

She couldn’t do that. She at least owes him a simple greeting, and then she can get rid of him. Putting the necklace back on and wiping her face to make sure she wasn’t crying, Y/n walked out of the room, ready for whatever the sith wanted her to do.

“Just be patient,” Her master told her as they waited outside the still open ship. Geonosis was overrun with battle, the sith fighting tooth and bone to claim the planet as its capital, the major droid foundries, and its Mandalorians. Nothing could be more perfect for the sith. The two force signatures caught Y/n’s attention. Looking up at Dooku, she told him, “Well, let’s make it quick then.”

“The chosen one will be here,” he whispered back. “I’ll leave that one to you.”

“You’re gonna pay for all the Jedi you killed, Dooku,” A familiar voice said as you both turned around in unison. “Y/N?” A pit dropped in her stomach. It was him, Anakin. Anakin’s blue saber was pointed at the ground, more focused on her than the older man.

The necklace he gave her burned her through her robes. Anakin was finally there in front of her. This Anakin was different from her dreams. He stood with more pride and confidence. He was also the chosen one. “I-I didn’t expect to meet you like this,” She told him, knowing full well once on the ship, she would be interrogated about her knowledge of the boy.

“Why are you with him?” The venom in his voice almost made her feel guilty about being who she was. “Are you-? Don’t tell me Y/n-” He couldn’t find the words to express his confusion and disappointment, “You’re a Sith. How can you be with them? You lied to me! Can’t you see what they’re doing to you? Can’t you see what they’ve done!”

“The Jedi know no facts,” She spoke, looking over at the Count, waiting for his head nod and sign of approval to ignite her orange saber. The whole weapon was made for destruction, a perfect saber to kill the chosen one. Its orange glow was representing strength. The curved hilt that matched hers of her masters was perfect for duels and close fights. “Only assumptions.”

It hurt her to have him looking at her in disgust. As if she was suddenly less than him because of her beliefs. “Anakin, you need to calm down,” She warned him as he charged towards her, only for Dooku to step in front of her, raising his hand to send bolds of electricity into the boy’s body and fling him into a rock wall. “Don’t keep me waiting,” Her master spoke before walking up the platform of the ship.

Y/n only had seconds to understand that not only her master had abandoned her, Anakin was also lying limp in a pile of rocks, and the other Jedi was making his way towards her. She pointed her saber straight ahead at him, taking careful steps around him, trying to think about how this all would end. Was this it? When is supposed to kill the chosen one who happened to be the boy Y/n had fallen in love with over the past ten years? She knew that once she killed Anakin, she would have to kill the two sith above her, starting the two over with her as a master.

“I heard the little green guy talks highly of you, Kenobi. What a pity it will be when I kill his two strongest men.”

Obi-wan shook his head, “You’re not Dooku’s apprentice. You’re just an assassin to him. Y/n why would he elect a child to be his successor?” He spoke as if he could read her mind, his blue eyes pleading with her.

“You don’t know anything!” Y/n yelled, making the first strike. His saber skills were advanced, but quickly she was able to disarm him and left two marks on him, one on his arm and one on his thigh. She walked up to him, the two staring at each other. Was she about to kill this man? She had never killed a human before. Taking down droids and other creatures were casual to her. Humans? This man was edging her on with his eyes, both understanding that she wasn’t able to drive her saber into his neck. She couldn’t just kill a man who had done nothing to her. That would be wrong, right? But if it was so bad, why was she encouraged to do it?

Before she could thoroughly choose, Anakin came at full force again. This time his master had tossed him his saber, making the fight two against one. “Why won’t you join our site, the right side?” Anakin asked, swiftly dodging her but failing to make any advancements to disarming her.

“I don’t believe in any right sides.” She told him, knocking the green lightsaber out of his hand, evening out the fight. “I believe in one thing. Power of human will.”

She walked into the ship quietly, ignoring the little green Jedi behind her. She didn’t care about the older man, Yoda or Count Dooku. She walked past the sith and made her way right to the pilot’s seat before sitting down.

Dooku followed her, giving her space as she sat down. Crossing his arms like a disappointed parent, he asked, “Well?”

“I cut his arm off,” Y/n spoke, taking out the necklace and looking at the charm in her hand. She left right after, watching him lay unconscious against his master, missing apart of his right arm. She had hurt him, and for a moment, when she was looking at the injured pair, the padawan’s master had the same look on his face as before. An eyebrow raised as if to say, Do it, kill us. I doubt you’ll do it.

“I’m disappointed in you.” He said. Y/n could have done it. She would have just pictured them as droids and slice the two in half. It would have been quick and painless. She could have plaid her life out, kill the chosen one, rule the sith, and live her life. Why didn’t you? She kept thinking as she admired the gift.

Looking at the charm, the future she talked about seemed too far away, especially now. The end with the boy she loved, Anakin, who also was the boy she was supposed to kill. But for right now, she thought to herself. She wouldn’t kill him, at least not yet, until she knew for sure that her fantasies with Anakin were just wild dreams. It was her own life. Why couldn’t she have the things she wanted?

#anakin skywalker imagine #star wars imagine #anakin imagine #anakin skywalker imagines #star wars imagines #anakin imagines #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #star wars x reader

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jenovahh · 3 years

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Wild Greens Choke Tended Gardens - Ch. 1 - Calendula (Marigold)

“A’yana!”

Blue eyes twinkle, searching for whoever wanted their attention.

The woman they belong to turns in a rush, her plentiful skirts swaying with the movement.

A’yana Salvia smiled warmly as the Leveilleur twins ran up to her, Alisaie nearly crashing into the older woman. A’yana bubbles with laughter as she slows the girl’s momentum in her arms, encasing her in an affectionate hug. “Well, that’s quite the greeting. Are you more eager than I to be out in the field?”

At first glance, anyone would wonder whether A’yana was trying to be as provocative as possible while somehow maintaining her modesty. Her skirts reached well to the ground, covering her sandaled feet, layered with a string of potions in case of emergency along with decorative feathers and trinkets. Her top was more scandalous, nothing but strips of fabric, artfully bound together to show her cleavage while maintaining her decency.

Her skin was a deep amber, so rich and brown that she seemed to glow whenever she stepped into the sunlight. White tattoos trailed down her arms and back twirling and curving in intricate patterns. With two, large, fluffy ears poking from curly, amethyst hair, A’yana looked like any other Miqo’te, but many underestimated her power.

Stolen from her crib at birth, A’yana has only ever known the teachings of a village of women, much like her. A village of witches, masters of the arcane and magic so old and powerful that they hid themselves in the bowels of the Gridanian forest. It was these witches that had sensed A’yana was born, erasing her existence from her parents’ mind and disappearing into the night to raise her.

The tattoos on her skin had been there since her birth, heralding her as a manifestation of the trees, the leaves, of life itself. Blessed by the spirits and Hydaelyn Herself, she was both respected and feared. Respected for using her powers for good, feared for the possibility she could turn on them and no one alive could stop her.

She had been more than helpful to the cause, even if her tendency to dive into things head first without thinking had landed her in trouble more often than not. Despite that she had made more friends than enemies, and what enemies she had knew she was a force to be reckoned with.

The young Elezen finally peels off of her, giving an exasperated groan. “I cannot deny I am a tad...antsy,”

“Is that what we call it?” Alphinaud can’t help but tease, flinching slightly as Alisaie turns to shoot him a quick glare.

“Now, now, be nice you two.” A’yana giggles, rubbing her head affectionately against the top of Alisaie’s head. “Goodness. I know it will be a few years yet, but I loathe to think of a time where I cannot nuzzle the tops of your snowy heads.” With a mischievous grin of her own, A’yana gives Alisaie a light nudge. “Or when you running headlong into me won’t result in you colliding with my bosom.” she sighs dramatically, breaking out into a full laugh as both twins go red in the face for different reasons.

“We’ll see how you like being teased when I am taller than you! Shall I play with your ears?” Alisaie huffs, clearly embarrassed. It was one thing for her twin to poke fun at her, but to have the woman she had come to view as the older sister she never had never failed to leave her flustered.

“Come now, I jest.” A’yana chuckles giving one last pat on her head. “Surely you did not run because you were excited to see me. Is there news?” A’yana asks, threading her hand with Alisaie’s as they walked through Rhalgr’s Reach. She offers her hand to Alphinaud who sputters for a moment but quietly accepts it, ears reddening as she flashes him a comforting smile.

While A’yana was aware that many would say that the twins were too old for such coddling, she could not help herself. Having no real siblings of her own, A’yana doted on them constantly, always asking if they were hungry, or needed a potion of hers for even something as small as a stomach ache. There was no hiding even outside the Scions that she spoiled them, and despite their best efforts to hide it, they loved every second of her attention.

“Well, on the grounds that you’ve finished your tasks of speaking with the recruits and such for Conrad,” Alphinaud begins, giving an encouraging smile, “he is actually ready to speak with us.”

“Ah, I would hope so after all the running around we’ve had to do.” A’yana sighs, to which even Alphinaud can’t help but laugh.

“While I’m aware that speaking with the masses is not as thrilling as fighting gods, I appreciate you going along with it nonetheless.” Alphinaud thanks, giving her hand a squeeze.

“Only because I have you two kids to look out for.” A’yana snickers, giving Alphinaud’s hair a ruffle, much to his dismay, the teenager leaping away from her teasing. “I’ll meet you over at the tent. Pray tell Conrad I’ll be there shortly.” Watching him nod, her eyes follow him as he walks the path back to the tent where M’naago and Conrad await them. Turning to Alisaie, she gives her hand a squeeze. “And you?”

Shrugging, Alisaie returns her gesture. “I think I will go check up on Y’shtola and Krile, and see how they are faring. I would end up saying the wrong thing I fear if I went with my brother.” Tilting her head, Alisaie gives her a scrutinous look. “Though you seem noticeably...excited today. Is all well?”

A’yana is not surprised, given how much time she spends in the twins' presence. Of course they would pick up on even the smallest cues on her moods. “Well...I’m not particularly familiar with how Elezen find their soulmates,”

Alisaie’s eyes widen before she can even finish the sentence, mouth flying open, “You mean your soulmate is---hrrmph!” she mumbles as A’yana slaps a hand over her mouth, pulling the young girl into what looks like a friendly embrace from afar.

“Quiet!” A’yana hisses, though it lacks any real bite. Alisaie licks at her palm and A’yana takes it off reflexively, releasing Alisaie with a pout.

“Why be quiet? This should be something to celebrate!” Alisaie whispers, at least being considerate to her feelings and keeping her voice down.

“I know, I know, but we’re in the middle of a full blown war, Alisaie. I want to be able to...you know. Have a chance to be courted without fear of some primal coming down on our heads.” A’yana mumbles, somewhat bashfully. For as strong as A’yana was, she was unfortunately (at least to her) a hopeless romantic.

“Oh, you big sap.” Trust her little sister to make fun of her for it. “Well how can you tell? I heard most Miqo’te born in Ul’Dah find theirs by being able to see color when they meet. Does that mean you can’t tell Alphinaud and I dress in different colors? If we swapped clothes--”

“I can see plenty well, thank you.” A’yana grumbles, giving her a playful smack on the head. “If you don’t mind, I’ve kept your brother waiting long enough. Off you go.” A’yana shoos, complete with a limp wristed wave of her hand. Alisaie sticks her tongue out at her, and A’yana is glad to see it. They should enjoy what years of childhood they had left, even if they were teenagers.

Trekking to the tent across the way, she offers a few more cordial waves as she passes by the soldiers stationed in the reach, her tranquil aura a soothing balm to all as she passes by. As she goes to meet with the others, she can’t help but daydream what her soulmate could possibly look like.

Are they tall? Short? Would they be a refined, Ishgardian, Elezen man or a brusque, Highlander woman? Would they be a match made in heaven from the start, or would they have to learn to love each other despite their faults? Though she has waited for her soulmate like anyone else, A’yana still experienced attraction. She knew she liked women, liked men, like those who did not conform to either. She wanted to love her soulmate no matter how they presented themself, and prayed they thought the same for her.

She always imagined her soulmate would be tall, someone who would want to protect her even if she did not need it. Someone who made her feel like an average woman despite her trekking across Eorzea as the Warrior of Light. She hoped they liked her cooking. The Scions all think it’s too spicy, except for Tataru, bless her heart.

A’yana envied other races and cultures that had more certain ways of knowing for sure when or where they’d meet their soulmate. Finding your soulmate varied from methods as vague as sharing your soulmate’s hair color, to as specific as having a specially crafted chronometer that would countdown to the time you would meet.

A’yana got stuck with the vague end of the spectrum, only able to sense when her soulmate drew near.

She had thought it wanderlust at first; a desire to leave her village behind once she had hit the appropriate age to do so. It was to her surprise that she would be discovered to be the Warrior of Light, beginning her trek across Eorzea to save it from certain doom. She had gravitated to Gridania immediately, feeling a strange tingling in her chest that would always call her back.

It is only after they crossed Baelsar’s wall had she realized that was no normal feeling.

She kept it to herself for a while, but with each passing day as she worked to bolster the Ala Mhigan resistance with Raubahn and Pipin, she could feel her soulmate drawing closer. She knew they were close, just not how close. Oh, how the wait was killing her.

One look at Y’shtola and Krile tells A’yana that as usual, Alisaie can’t keep her mouth shut. The two give her knowing, but hopeful looks. Alphinaud asks ever so politely on whether she is willing to try and storm the Castellum with Pipin, because she’s already done so much for the cause and he’d rather not presume. Ruffling his hair again, A’yana laughs that while she appreciates it, he needn’t ask. If there is a just cause to fight for, she will be there.

While this cause is just as bloody as the Dragonsong War so far, A’yana feels no less afraid to see it through. She does not enjoy killing, abhors it really, and will do what she can to spare a life, even those of an enemy unless they force her hand. Thankfully with her powers, restraining the enemy is not hard work, allowing for the capture of soldiers with minimal bloodshed.

It is better than sitting around running her apothecary, waiting for customers to stop by.

Fighting primals is much more exciting.

There are no eikons to slay yet though, Gyr Abania proving strangely tame compared to the struggles she endured during her time in Coerthas fighting the Heavensward led by Thordan. Where there was once the threat of dragons around every corner, able to fly and raze her to the ground if she let them, the only risk so far is an imperial ambush, which when next to her, was hardly a threat at all.

A’yana knew she was powerful and she tried to not let it get to her head.

Tried.

The trek back to Castrum Oriens is quiet and peaceful, the imperials most likely quaking in their boots from their last defeat by her hand. To the average person she appeared to be no more than a healer, thinking her an easy target as she balanced her astrolabe above her palm. And with skirts restricting her movement, many would think she would be incapable of hand to hand combat.

That didn’t mean she couldn’t dodge, though.

Bolstered by her own abilities, her offensive spells even as she healed were more than enough to weaken an enemy and render them unable to even lift a blade against her. And even if someone did manage to get close enough, she had worked hard to master the art of dodging a sword while in her skirts, having a few scars from some close calls.

A’yana makes conversation with M’naago until they reach the Castrum, where Raubahn and Pipin each give her a friendly welcome before getting down to business. A’yana’s attention drifts in and out of the conversation, ears flicking to and fro the only indication whether she’s actively listening or not. Thankfully M’naago is the only other Miqo’te present to recognize the behavior for what it is, and seems confident in her abilities to not comment on it. One doesn’t necessarily need the full scope of the plan when your friends usually chuck you at a primal.

Besides, she can’t help it; she feels her soulmate drifting ever closer. Could they be an Ala Mhigan? She’s never felt the buzz so strongly before, even when she had first noticed the feeling when she became an adult. If her soul mate was Ala Mhigan, she would’ve felt them this close years ago...right?

“You seem on edge.” Alisaie comments again, as they prepare to meet Pipin outside Castellum Velodnya. “Is your soulmate getting closer?”

Unable to hide her grin, A’yana nods, not wanting to burst with excitement when such a serious mission looms ahead. If scoping out the Castellum went well, perhaps she could spend the night searching for her soulmate. Surely if they are this close, they must be searching for her too? “Right now, I just wanna focus on our mission,” A’yana sighs, flexing her fingers anxiously. “I have yet to consult the stars about tonight...I’ve never consulted them about my soulmate actually. I’ve always wanted it to be a surprise.”

Alisaie gives her a teasing look at that. “Who would’ve thought the Warrior of Light would be such a huge romantic?” She sighs, complete with a dramatic roll of her eyes.

“Oh, be quiet you.” A’yana laughs, giving Alisaie a scathing look. “Don’t think I’ve not noticed you fiddling with that locket you think you keep tucked away. I believe Sharlayans often find their soulmates by a personal trinket that glows when their soulmate is near, right?”

A’yana can’t help but laugh louder as Alisaie turns as red as her gear, going on about how A’yana must’ve been spying on her. It takes Alphinaud calming both of them down (but not without getting in a few jokes of his own) to say they’re ready to head toward the Castellum.

Making sure her cards are ready and her astrolabe functional, A’yana begins to ease into her more serious persona. A’yana didn’t want to put up false pretenses when it came to her role as the Warrior of Light, but found that people took her seriously the sterner she looked. Around the Scions she didn’t mind joking and laughing, showing a side that precious few got to see. But when it came time to do battle, you would think she had not smiled in days.

With her feline hearing and the twins own sensitivity to sound due to their Elezen heritage combined, it’s nigh impossible for anyone to sneak up on them. A’yana follows close behind Pipin and the twins, careful to make sure her skirts don’t get snagged in the brush as they make their way through the forest and out to the more desert-like terrain. A’yana can’t help but be a little nervous as they creep closer to the cliffs’ edge, taking extra steps so that tripping on her skirts doesn’t spell in a long fall into the chasm below.

Winds tickle her skin, the buzzing in her chest almost turning into a light hum. It makes it hard to focus.

“...is exactly as expected. I will notify father.” Pipin’s voice drifts into her ears.

Alphinaud puts a hand on her arm, eyes silently asking if she’s all right. Thankful for his concern, A’yana nods, doing her best to push the humming feeling to the back of her mind. Whenever she did meet her soulmate, she was going to tell them they had awful timing.

“...fire! Where did it come from?” Pipin whispers harshly, turning this way and that. Panicked and feeling stupid for not paying attention, A’yana jumps to her feet, scanning the area for cannonfire she didn’t even hear. The humming is hard to push from her mind.

“Is that---” Alisaie’s voice drifts in and out as A’yana finally manages to turn to where Alisaie is facing. “Oh gods, it’s Rhalgr’s Reach!”

Doing her damndest to focus, A’yana gathers up her skirts and begins to move, before either of the twins or Pipin can say anything. “A’yana, it’s no use-- I think someone’s jamming our communications!” Alphinaud yells. Thankfully the pair are used to A’yana’s tendency to run head first into danger without thinking, quick on her heels.

“You don’t think...could this be part of a coordinated attack?” Alisaie ponders, the two of them heading North so they can cross the river and make it back as fast as possible.

Having caught up, Pipin chimes in, “It’s too early to draw conclusions. We must abort the assault and return to the Reach at once!”

Not that that wasn’t her plan anyway, A’yana trudges through the river, silently cursing that she is at such a disadvantage. Her abilities relied so strongly on a presence of plant life; and in the arid climate that Gyr Abania had, she immediately felt the loss. Whatever it was waiting for her at the Reach, they better hope--

The humming--

It almost feels like a full blown thrumming now.

She’s getting closer to Rhalgr’s which means…

Which means...!

“We have to hurry!” She cries, ignoring the discomfort of soggy sandals and damp skirts as she pulls herself from the river, continuing her run to Rhalgr’s Reach.

My soulmate...are they there? Are they hurt? She wonders, trying her best to not despair, but she can’t help but worry. Not when with every step she takes the thrumming gets more insistent until it is all she can feel, her very being feeling as if it knows her soulmate is near. She can hear the twins hurried breaths behind her, her feline eyes easily pick up on a few approaching forms in the distance.

“Krile!” A’yana calls, willing her feet to move faster. The Lalafellin woman’s eyes are downcast, only glancing up at the sound of her name being called. Her grim look only pushes A’yana forward, not even stopping to talk and hear what she has to say.

“Alisaie! Go after A’yana!” She hears Alphinaud call, as he and Pipin stay behind for a moment to talk to Krile. Alisaie is hot on her tail without even needing to be told, keeping stride with the older woman as they prepare to throw themselves into the fray.

“We have to save as many as possible!” Alisaie calls, drawing her rapier, having it at the ready. “Heal who you can. I will watch your back until the others arrive!”

Proud of her sister for thinking so fast on her feet, for knowing what she wants without even having to voice it, A’yana pulls her astrolabe from her back, the cards fanning around the globe in a flourish. Imperials meet them at the gate, A’yana able to feel the stars giving her strength as she pulls a Lady of Crowns from her globe. Channeling the energy to Alisaie, she watches as the young woman’s eyes light up, letting loose her battle cry as she takes the imperials on.

She fights off one imperial, making quick work of them and gets to calling upon her magic to cast a quick healing spell on a nearby recruit. Thankful that they’ve only sustained flesh wounds that won’t drain their life force, A’yana begins to put more of her focus into getting them a bit healthier. Only a few minutes pass before she can hear Krile and the others catch up. “Go on ahead!” Krile demands, already heading for the next of the wounded. “They need your help!”

Nodding, A’yana once again balances her astrolabe in her hand, having palmed a few cards to keep at the ready as she takes stock of who will be moving with her. Her heart is pounding; her soulmate is close, and she prays that because she still feels this thrumming, it also means they’re still alive.

“Y’shtola!” Alphinaud cries, seeing the Miqo’te woman on the ground. A’yana’s own heart stops as she spies Lyse tied up on the ground next to the unconscious woman.

“Not so fast!”

A’yana barely dodges a swipe of a blade, her skirts dancing around her as she quickly casts a Malefic at the offending enemy. More of the Skulls begin to surround her, snickering to themselves, thinking they have her cornered. Though there may be little plant life around, she knows she won’t even have to waste a fraction of her energy taking down a few mercenaries. A’yana’s eyes narrow as a young woman, hardly older than nineteen summers comes to the front, smirking as if victory is assured.

“Well, well. A rescue party, is it?” The woman grins, twirling her blade. “We’ll see about that!”

At the first step she makes A’yana easily dodges her, balancing her astrolabe in one hand while taking hold of her skirts in the other. Her pupils dilate, letting in more light on this already dark and tragic night. She dodges another swipe and hears the woman growl in frustration, making another blind charge at her. A’yana evades her once again, losing herself to the pull of combat, the humming of her soulmate’s proximity forgotten as she manages to put enough distance between her and the newcomer to cast a Malefic that sends her stumbling.

“Gah! Who in the seven hells are you?!” She snarls, her grip on her sword tightening.

“I would ask the same of you, but I remember you now...Fordola rem Lupis.” A’yana murmurs, twirling her astrolabe in hand. She’s fully dipped into the role of the Warrior now, eyes hard as steel, unforgiving in their gaze as she stares down the cause of this tragedy. “I unfortunately lack the means to restrain you properly...which prompts me to request you stand down. I rather there be no more bloodshed, even from the enemy.”

A’yana keeps her focus on Fordola, ensuring she makes no sudden movements as Alphinaud takes out one of the soldiers. “Alphinaud! I need your help!” Krile beckons, falling to her knees as she sets about healing Y’shtola and the other fallen soldiers.

Fordola makes to move toward them but A’yana is faster, casting a Malefic with just enough power to weaken her further and deter her from any foolish moves. Fordola grits her teeth, eyes burning hotly as she stares her down. “My lord, the prisoners!” She calls.

My lord? A’yana wonders, until she hears the shift of heavy armor, and the awareness of the humming returns tenfold.

“See to your men, Pilus.”

Fordola draws her sword, turning to the sound, giving the Garlean salute to whoever comes this way. Following her gaze, A’yana takes one look.

And she knows.

The armor is obviously fitting of not just a high ranking officer, but royalty. She can see strands of golden, blond hair trail from beneath the monsterish helm. She had heard stories and rumors, intel about the Garlean prince, but nothing could have prepared her for how intense his presence was--

Or the fact that he was her soulmate.

It can’t be, A’yana trembles, even as her soul sings at being so close to her soulmate. She can feel all the signs of love she had envied for so long. Her knees are weak, her heart’s beating out of time. She only has eyes for the twisted creature before her, the Prince of Garleans…

Zenos yae Galvus.

“Uh-- as you command, my lord.” Fordola stutters, rounding up what remaining soldiers she has and retreating as ordered.

A’yana is stock still even as Pipin comes up beside her, her throat locked up. She wants to say so much, but her mouth will not open. Her tongue is dry.

It can’t be.

Zenos turns to her, mood indiscernible from beneath his helm. One arm rests upon the odd sheathe that is fastened to his hip, carrying a familiar sort of confidence she recognizes in herself. A surety in your power.

The knowledge of your greatness.

“Your friends were a disappointment. But you…” The prince drawls, tilting his head slightly. “You will entertain me, will you not?”

A’yana can’t even swallow as he moves to face her, drawing a sword from his revolver.

It can’t be.

Alisaie brings up the rear at last as A’yana’s instinct is screaming at her to run away. To tell her friends to run for cover while she holds him off. But it is too late. The stage is already set.

“If we kill him, here and now, we can end this!” Alisaie roars, already launching herself at Zenos.

“As one!” Pipin cries, joining Alisaie in her attack.

“Wait-- no!” A’yana yells, finally finding her voice. Habit finally kicks in, fear an undercurrent to her movements as she begins to draw cards, ready to aid her friends where possible. He’s...powerful. I’ve never felt such strength…!

A’yana watches panicked as Zenos fights them off, expending little effort. It almost feels like looking in a mirror, watching the ease at which he dispatches her friends.

Is this what she looked like to everyone else?

“I have no need for this rabble.” Zenos sighs, unleashing an attack that sends the two flying.

“Alisaie! Pipin!” A’yana calls, having barely withstood the attack herself. Was that...magic? The prince is a full blooded Garlean-- how? Quickly glancing, she hears Pipin mumble something over the roaring in her ears as Alisaie lets loose a slew of curses, allowing her to take a breather. They’re both alive, thank the Twelve.

“Hm. You yet stand.” Zenos hums, once again drawing A’yana’s attention as well as her ire. At least now with her friends out of the fight she has to worry about no one save herself. “Mayhap you have potential.”

“Oh, I have more than potential,” A’yana hisses, beginning to draw cards. She can hear him chuckle, even from under the helm, illusionary swords appearing around her. Growling, she makes quick work of dodging their blasts while keeping her eyes focused on him.

Her soulmate.

Her eyes burn with unshed tears at how unfair this was.

For every blast she dodges, he’s quick on his feet, chasing her, hunting her, leaving her little room to even begin to cast. She’s unaccustomed to being on the run and she feels like he can sense it, can see how wide her eyes are from being on the losing side for once. She can hear the smirk from under his helm. “Better. Yet lacking nevertheless…”

Incensed, A’yana dodges his swords once again, edging herself near the water. It will take a good chunk of her energy, but if it means wiping that smirk off his face even if she can’t see it, she’ll do what it takes.

She watches him still for but a moment as her tattoos faintly glow, the water gurgling behind her. Balancing her astrolabe, she casts a Malefic with the intention of distracting him, grinning as he moves to dodge her magic. “I’ve got you!” she roars, veins shooting from the depths of the small river, launching themselves directly at Zenos.

He easily slashes at one set, but was clearly not expecting another set of vines to come up behind him, latching onto his sword arm. Regaining her confidence, A’yana cinches the vines as tight as she can around his wrist, frowning as the pressure does nothing to his armor. As a prince it would make sense he is only afforded the highest quality metal available.

Changing tactics she tries to wrench his hand behind him, but he’s far too strong for her vines to pull without snapping. She could strengthen them with magic, but she’s already using so much already since she is not touching any plants physically and relying on her own energy. She doesn’t want to use her reserves; what if she needs to make a run for it?

Would her own soulmate kill her?

Could he not tell they were soulmates?

Was she broken?

Her choice is taken away from her as Zenos gives a decisive slice of his blade through the vines, humming to himself. “An ability to control plant matter...though not without great cost to yourself.” While his tone hints that he’s somewhat intrigued, it still maintains a bit of boredom. “Come then.”

Before she can react he dashes for her, blade drawn. A’yana winces as she’s barely able to dodge in time, crying out at her blade cuts a decent gash in her side. Down, but not out, A’yana taps into her reserves by clasping his sword, using a burst of magic to snap the blade in half. As he withdraws, she falls to the ground, whimpering as she casts a small healing spell to at least stop the bleeding.

She feels him gaze down at her, feels his disdain and disappointment. Her heart still burns at his closeness, even as he draws another sword from his revolver. She glares up at him then, resolve burning bright in her eyes, even as she kneels before him. Instinct claws its way up to where she bares her fangs, her eyes become slits, and somehow that gives him pause.

All is silent save for the rolling of thunder.

“Pathetic.” He sighs, sheathing his sword once again and stalking away. A’yana watches him go, watches Fordola and her men follow behind him.

“A’yana!” Alisaie is at her side in an instant, trying to put on her best brave face. “We need to get you seen to,”

“I’m fine, Alisaie, I’ve slowed the bleeding.” Normally she’d have more than enough energy to stop it entirely. But not this time.

Not after being defeated so wholly.

A’yana was no prodigy; she had to work to her level of skill like anyone else. She was only bolstered by the fact she was a wellspring of power, and had a natural aptitude for magic and the arcane. She had long faded scars to show she trained like anyone else.

Only now, had her luck run out.

She was used to coasting on her talent, her hard work. That wasn't to say any of her battles up until this point had been easy, oh no-- taking down Nidhogg had been an arduous battle from start to finish. Even with van Baelsar she had been younger, greener, mostly sailing by on sheer adrenaline and pure luck. Overwhelming her enemies with how much raw, untamed power she held.

And now...she feels embarrassed. The infallible, unshakable Warrior of Light…

Thrown around like a doll by the prince of Garleans.

Even still, nothing made her more ashamed than the fact that he was her soulmate.

She couldn’t understand it. Comprehend it. She couldn’t deny she felt a little impatient. Not all races met their soulmates when they were young, but it was not unheard of for some soulmates to find one another even before their teenage years. She could not help the doubts that plagued her that by nearly twenty-five summers, she hadn’t felt as much of a tug. Something had to be wrong with her.

It is why she could not contain her excitement when after so long, she felt something.

It is why her heart is so heavy as Alphinaud and Krile rush over to her to help heal her enough to move.

Raubahn arrives soon after, devastated as he looks upon the Reach. He scoops her up effortlessly, balancing her in one arm as he rushes her to the infirmary, only adding to her shame.

“You’ve done well.” Raubahn assures her, hushed words only for the two of them to hear. Even though it is only for her ears, she can’t help but beat herself up for failing everyone so horribly.

She can’t tell anyone.

What would the others think of her, knowing that when they needed her most, she couldn’t fight her soulmate? That her soulmate was the very person they are aiming to defeat?

Even as she lies in bed and the chirugeons tend to her, Krile and Alphinaud having exhausted their energy just to save Y’shtola, she stares the ceiling and wonders--

What will she do?

She can’t kill her soulmate.

She already abhorred the thought of killing, but she could sense he was not a man who would allow himself to be captured. He would accept nothing less than total defeat.

Night falls over the Reach and she lies wide awake, thoughts bouncing off the walls like a child who has had too much toffee. She is restless at the same time she is tired, wanting action, wanting to do anything, wanting to prove herself--

“...Yana?”

A’yana gasps, heart nearly leaping up her throat as Alisaie’s head peeks through the privacy curtain around her bed. “Alisaie. I’m sorry. I was...lost in thought.” She moves to sit up but her gash is still healing. She’s yet to recover the strength needed to heal her wounds further, and her strongest potions were given to help Y’shtola and many others instead.

“You’re not overthinking your battle are you?” Alisaie questions, quietly reaching for a small stool to sit at her side. A’yana guiltily looks away, prompting the young girl to frown. “Yana,” Alisaie begins and A’yana can’t help but sigh. Alisaie only dropped her prefix when she was ready to chew her out.

“At least think about it from my perspective, Alisaie,” A’yana breathes, unable to even roll over and face her. “I’ve...never experienced a defeat such as that. In a way I suppose I am humbled, but I...I was also scared.”

They are both silent, Alisaie seeming to mull over her words. “Your soulmate…” Alisaie begins, causing A’yana to tense immediately. Thankfully it is still too dark to catch such minute movements. “Were they...did you sense them? Was it distracting you? They’re not…”

“No, they’re not dead.” A’yana cuts off, slinging an arm over her eyes, not wanting to show Alisaie her tears. She had to be strong for her. She had to be unshakable, an inspiration--

“Then where are they?” Alisaie presses, unable to see how A’yana’s fist clenches, how as much as she doesn’t want to, tears fall from her tired eyes.

“They’re not here. They left.” She lies. “I’m guessing they saw the explosions, heard the cannon fire from Rhalgr’s. And...I suppose that they don’t have a way to sense I’m near.” A’yana curses as she begins to sniffle, as sobs begin to wrack her body. She would never show this chip in her armor to anyone else.

“Yana…” Alisaie murmurs, reaching to hug her as best as she can with A’yana still lying down. The Miqo’te takes it, needing the comfort. She’s not surprised that Alisaie lets her think that she’s this immovable force, that she is not without flaws and fears. She knew Alisaie did not think any less of her for having weak points like anyone else.

But in her mind, nothing could make up for the fact that her soulmate was the enemy they were trying to defeat, and she just may not have the power to stop him.

#zenos yae galvus #zenos #ff14 #FFXIV #Final Fantasy XIV #a'yana #WGCTG

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thespaceace124 · 3 years

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Tv shows I watched this year, my favorite character from each, and why I like each character.

Since my past few posts about Fandom/TV shows have been kinda negative/ criticism, to end off the year, I wanted to make a few posts about things that I like in media. So today we’ll be taking a look at all the shows I watched/finished this year and my favorite characters from each.

Space Force: Captain Angela Ali. Its been a hot minute since I watched Space force, but iirc she’s just… done like 99% of the time with all of her superiors, but in the ten episodes we get, we see some fun little character moments from her. Like in the war games episode where she has to grapple with being an amazing book student, but has a hard time applying some of the stuff she learned at the military academy in a “combat” situation and has to sort of learn and take the lead from one of her “underlings” who is better in that sort of situation. Also, the bonding moments she has with Chan, like when they’re on the road trip, and when she asks him for help learning some science stuff so she can be more useful on missions and stuff. (again, its been a while since I’ve watched this one so my memory of it is a little foggy)

Stargate SG-1: Colonel Jack O’Neill. I like the tope he falls into of the very surface level sort of gruff military man, doesn’t like talking about his feelings, makes smart ass remarks, asks people who talk to much to get to the point, he’s a very fun character, and adds a lot of fun lightheartedness to the show and is generally enjoyable to have on screen. Also tends to get the most character development, at least regarding his past and sort of why the way that he is. (I would say Teal’c gets the second most), also the reason I got into stargate, as my dad showed me a compilation of him being a smart ass and I was like “oh ho ho, I gotta see more of this guy”

Doctor Who (specifically seasons 11 and 12): The Doctor. I like this version of the Doctor, I like that she a little more lighthearted chaotic as opposed to the previous Doctor, who I would describe as dark chaotic, (at least in s11) and just very fun to be around and watch on screen. Also, I think that the rest of the fam is a little bit underdeveloped? Like, we got a lot of fun stuff for Ryan and Graham in the premier with them being a part of a family unit and then at the end of the season we got a nice little scene of them bonding and Ryan calling him grandad and then in s12 there’s like none of that??? And with Yaz we get that she’s kinda got the usual female companion backstory (not a big fan of her job, not happy living with her family, wants *More* out of life) and then we learn that she got bullied as a kid, and at one point she tried to run away, but a kindhearted cop and her sister??? Managed to keep her in Sheffield. So, I feel a little bit like the doctor is my favorite as a default just because we already know the doctors story, so we’ve just pasted a new personality onto a familiar character.

Deep Space Nine (started 2019): Major Kira Nerys. Straight up the reason this character is my favorite is because my dad said I remind him of her and that makes me feel nice. Also, Nana Visitor is very pretty. Also I like that she takes 0 shit from anyone, including Sisko, but we also get to see her learn and grow from “I will always voice my disagreement no matter what” to “There is a time and a place to object” and also a little bit of learning that sometimes you have to work with people who’ve hurt you and sometimes that sucks. Anyway, she’s a grade A badass and I love her.

Voyager (started 2019): Captain Kathryn Janeway. Like my reasons for Kira, I think Janeway is a badass, and that Kate Mulgrew is very pretty. But also, I think Janeway is a badass in a different way than Kira is, simply because their characters are in very different situations. But I think Janeway is portrayed to be handling things extremely well, and doing what needs be done, obviously that wasn’t super looked at as they did want to keep the tone of voyager relatively light, but anyway, I like Janeway because she’s someone to look up to, to want to incorporate traits of into your own behavior.

Picard: Rafaella “Raffi” Musiker. I like Raffi because she is one of the most consistent characters in Picard. See imo Picard suffers from having too much on its plate, and also it drops/ abandons too many characters. With a show that has only 10 episodes, especially in a first season, you can’t do that. So, with Raffi being in the majority of the episodes, with consistent characterization that makes sense, and working as someone who can actually keep Picard in check? That’s the best character in the show. Also, I think of actors not seen in Star Trek before, she’s one of the better ones and that makes her better.

Lower Decks: Ensign Beckett Mariner. I love a chaotic smartass. Also, for as much as I love LD being a relatively slice of life comedy, I love that Mariner got a ton of characterization in the last few episodes, especially exploring her relationship with her mom, and people who knew her at the academy. She’s super fun, I love how she’s almost always dunking on Boimler, but also really cares for him and doesn’t want to see him hurt. Again, she’s just super fun to see on screen, I love that she doesn’t really like authority figures, and is content to figure herself out while being a relatively low-ranking officer. I like Mariner because she is both sure of herself, but not totally sure what she wants to do with her career, which is something that Star Trek has never explored before, and I think its super interesting.

Discovery: Commander Michael Burnham. I think a trend with a lot of the characters on this list is that I personally find them cool and/or pretty, and once again that also applies to Michael here, but also, I like her because Michael as a concept is fascinating. Like the idea of being a child who goes through a trauma and then is immediately whisked away to a place where she can’t actually process it? And then as a result grows up emotionally constipated and only in her 30s, is sort of finally able to shed that and actually learn how to be healthy with her emotions? Absolutely fascinating, I love that. I also love that we can kind of see that her upbringing and the suppression of emotions as a child still effects the choices that she’s made to this day. Its super cool, and I think one of the best parts of discovery.

Ratched: Nurse Mildred Ratched. I don’t have anything really important to say here, I just tend to like the main characters of tv shows because by default they get the most development/ back story or whatever, and honestly this is one of those shows that I enjoyed enough to watch all ten episodes, and then never picked it up again, so. Ehhh

Dexter: Dexter Morgan. I like Dexter Morgan because he’s a man who has always been told he doesn’t have emotions, but as the show goes on you can totally see that he does have emotions, he just doesn’t know how to handle them, and that they don’t present themselves in the same way that “normal” people’s do. Like, I fully believe that Dexter did actually love Rita, Harry jr., Deb, and Hannah. But I also believe he didn’t fully know how to cope with those emotions, because instead of getting his son help Harry Morgan decided to turn his son into a killing machine, which was a Choice.

Hannibal: Will Graham. I liked watching him kinda fall into Hannibal’s co-dependency trap. Character regression baybee. But like, that’s what happens, I’m pretty sure at one point they both admit that they aren’t healthy for each other, but they also cant live w/o each other. Which is not a dynamic I personally had seen delved into in media before I watched this show. I just think he’s neat.

ATLA: Toph Beifong. I like Toph because I think she provides a nice foil to Aang, whilst also not going too far into the opposite direction. She’s decisive, she knows for the most part what she wants from this adventure, and mostly how to go about getting it, while also discovering a new family along the way. I also just like the way that she can and will throw a boulder at you if she thinks you deserve it.

Chilling Adventures of Sabrina: Sabrina Spellman. Again, sort of falling into the “I tend to like the main character by default folder” It’s also been a hot minute since I watched this show, so I’m just gonna say that I like Sabrina because she is always the one getting her own self into trouble by being Different. And while I’m not saying that it is always good to conform and do what is expected of you, all of the issues in the show are caused by Sabrina (for the most part). Season one is all about shit falling apart if she doesn’t sign the book, season two is her shaking things up at the witch academy and also not wanting to be the princess of hell (understandable, but again, still her fault) and the whole plot of season 3 is the fallout of her imprisoning the devil and then also being too cocky with the guy made of clay. She’s far too cocky, and I think that’s super funny in regards to how it gets her into situations she’s not really prepared for.

The Coroner (BBC): Beth Kennedy. I watched this show with my stepmom, and in this show, Beth tends to be the one who lightens the mood a lot, so she’s my favorite character b/c of that.

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linkspooky · 5 years

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How would a relationship between Touka and Furuta work?

Okay, I’m being nice and answering this question. Please don’t send hate in my inbox immediately afterwards like the other times I’ve answered a similiar question. I have previously answered this here.

Basically, the two of them are foils. They are characters meant to be compared the same way that Kaneki and Furuta are. I’ve gone on before about how Rize, Touka, Furuta, and Kaneki can make one big foil square, and how similiar the two relationships are.

They’re foils because of their haircuts, obviously. (Joke.)

They have their hair parted to cover their eyes, but both of them cover opposites sides of their face. This is because Touka who is introduced as a character showing the delicate balance of walking in between the ghoul and human worlds, represses her ghoul side to become more human.

Whereas Furuta is the opposite. He is someone who represses his own humanity to appear more like a ghoul. Touka wants to be accepted as human, Furuta wants to be seen as a monster.

This is something directly mentioned by Ayato early in her backstory. Despite the fact that Arata did everything he could to blend in with human society and he was still taken away and killed one night, Touka only imitates her father. She wants to suppress who she is and forget that she’s a monster entirely.

Arata instilled in both of his children that if they did not suppress who they were in order to blend into the world, that they would die. That at all times they did not belong into the world. Despite him doing this for their safety, he passed on incredibly unhealthy habits to them. Touka’s eating of human food has never been her selfless, it’s an act of purpose self harm done out of self loathing. She hates that she cannot eat Yoriko’s food due to being a ghoul and therefore she punishes herself.

This is how Touka has always lived, punishing herself, repressing herself, making herself smaller and smaller so she can fit in. It’s also a learned behavior. Because Touka has had two father figures who punished her for acting like a ghoul, Yoshimura moreso because when she acted out of line he just ignored her and left her to suffer on her own.

Basically the men, the authority figures in her life have taught her over and over again that she will be abandoned. Especially if she misbehaves and steps out of line, which is why we witness in canon Touka living her entire life on a tight rope. The reason Touka very early series flips in between showing good moods and bad moods is not beause she’s tsundere, but rather she’s emotionally underdeveloped. Touka cannot express those emotions in any way other than either bottling them up or getting angry, because she’s afraid that if she ends up needing anything at all the people in her life will leave her. If she acts on her emotions she’s not being a human but rather a monstrous ghoul.

Touka however also does not make any attempt to go after them. She becomes utterly passive and simply lets people leave her, while she spends time in her loneliness pining.

Furuta and Touka are both destroying parts of themselves, but Furuta is active while Touka is passive. Furuta denies that he’s a human, while Touka secretly longs to be one.

Furuta destroys himself over and over again to become many different things. he destroys his emotions and becomes a clown who laughs at the cruelty of life. He destroys any sense of morality or hesitation and becomes the head of the Washuu, Kichimura.

Furuta covers not his ghoul eye, but rather his human one. He parts his hair so only his kakugan will be the one showing. At first Touka’s decision to repress herself does make her seem like a sefless person. They both after all have a person who was so important to them it was like another extension of themselves. However, Touka acts to heal that person, whereas Furuta destroyed that person instead.

She selflessly waited for three years for Kaneki to come back and tried to save him, whereas Furuta destroyed Rize in order to destroy himself.

However both of these in the end are unhealthy expressions of self. Both of these amount to self denial. Furuta destroys Rize, not because he wants to own her but because he sees her as a symbol of his own humanity. He fully planned on waiting for Rize to come kill him in the end when he was done with all the work he needed to do. Doing that allows him to become active, but he’s also active in his destruction, active in his self harm.

Touka’s sense of self and her needs ultimately always come second to her loved ones. Which is why when they’re not around she becomes utterly passive and simply pines for them to return. Touka passively lets herself get hurt again and again without ever letting herself feel those emotions.

Furuta also is a character who puts aside his feelings of suffering and is desperate to use his life to make genuine change in the world. He destroyed the Washuu, he ruined the reputation of the CCG.

Whereas, Touka herself who has spent her whole life surviving on the streets cares little about the world except for her own survival and the survival of her loved ones. She sees child soldiers die in front of her eyes who just like her, were kids who lost their parents at young age and were forced to become violent and feels pretty much nothing about it. Touka is resigned to trying to survive in a terrible world rather than trying to change anything about it, she reflects the most unhealthy mindset of Anteiku. The one where Yoshimura just puts children in the 24th ward, or abandons them to their own devices rather than actively trying to change anything.

Touka and Furuta on the inside both desire the same thing. They also desire something that is explicitly wrong for them to desire. Touka cannot have a peaceful life and a family because she is a ghoul who will be killed just for living. Furuta cannot have a life and a family, because he’s literally a breeding project where the Washuus control every aspect of his life including who he might marry, and even if he wanted to live he’ll die early regardless.

Furuta’s idea of the happiness he would never have comes in the form of what specifically was denied to him in life. He would never be allowed to have the family or children. Yet, a family and a child is what the Washuu held up as an ideal, a privilege for the main branch and not the failures like Furuta.

Touka’s idea of happiness is also something that was explicitly denied to her. They are the same and yet they are also opposites. Touka is an outsider to the system who was born an outsider because she was born a ghoul. What she wants desperately is to conform to the system and be accepted by it.

Furuta was born inside the system, and can even pass off as human to the CCG as rank 1 Furuta. At the same time what he desperately wants is not to conform, or find happiness, but rather to tear down the system that created him and prevent it from ever creating anything more like him.

They’re at their core though, incredibly lonely characters who can never become what they desire to be. Touka even if she perfectly passes herself off as a human will never be human. Furuta even if he makes himself an artificial one eye will always remain neither a human nor a ghoul, just a failed attempt at breeding that was thrown away.

They’re lonely people trying to cope with a world that was not made for people like them in two wholly different ways.

#furuta nimura #touka kirishima #furutou #metasks #tg meta #Anonymous

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jamiebluewind · 5 years

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Fantasy High Theory: Fabian has an eating disorder

TW: eating disorder symptoms, anorexia symptoms, abuse mention, death mention, violence mention, gun mention, alcohol mention, drug mention, trauma mention, smoking mention,...

Word Count: about 2100

I know this is a big assumption to make with what we have, but I couldn't ignore all the data and the warning signs. In fact, I think that even if Fabian does not have an eating disorder at this time, he's certainly at risk for one and needs the issues addressed before it gets worse.

Before I get into it, let me remind everyone that I am about to talk about a very heavy subject. Remember, stay safe and consider the warnings before you continue. You can always message me for a summary of the red flags or for an edited version if you need it. I would rather you be safe than to have you're like on my theory.

Okay? Okay. Let's start by defining a few things.

Eating Disorder: Any of a range of psychological disorders in which people experience severe disturbances in their eating behaviors and related thoughts/emotions. People with eating disorders typically become pre-occupied with food and/or their body weight/shape.

ARFID: Avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder is an eating disorder characterized by eating very little food and/or avoiding eating certain foods. It does not include having a distorted body image (as occurs in anorexia nervosa) or being preoccupied with body image (as occurs in bulimia nervosa). People with avoidant/restrictive food intake may not eat because they lose interest in eating or because they think eating has harmful consequences. They may avoid certain foods because of their color, consistency, or odor. When it becomes more severe, it can cause substantial weight loss, slower-than-expected growth in children, difficulty participating in normal social activities, and sometimes life-threatening nutritional deficiencies.

Anorexia nervosa: Diagnosed when patient BMI (body mass index which is a rule of thumb measuring body size vs mass) is low for their age and height. Severity is classified as mild (BMI of greater than 17), moderate (BMI of 16–16.99), severe (BMI of 15–15.99), or extreme (BMI of less than 15). Hallmarks of anorexia include limited food intake, excessive monitoring of the calorie and fat content of food, fear of being “fat”, problems with body image, denial of low body weight, excessive exercise, food rituals, cold intolerance, mood swings, sleeping issues, chronic fatigue, distorted body image, and many more. Eventually, the body goes into starvation which cause a lot of bad symptoms.

Atypical anorexia nervosa: All of the criteria for anorexia nervosa are met, except the individual's weight is within or above the normal range.

Again, ANY BMI can still mean a person has an eating disorder. It is NOT confined to those that are underweight. The BMI is only there as a red flag and to help classify severity of anorexia. I want to make this very clear, not just for my theory, but for the people reading this who recognize parts of it in themselves or others. I'm about to give an example that gets... personal in order to show that people who don't fit the stereotype of being underweight can still have an eating disorder. How personal? My own.

I am overweight to obese (depending on the doctor and the range). I don't exercise much. I eat pretty well around friends. But I have an eating disorder. I just... don't get hungry most of the time, so I forget to eat a lot more often than is healthy. A LOT more. I've been to the hospital a few times due to dehydration. I've collapsed because I literally forgot to eat for two or three days. I could have died at one point because despite being overweight, I was eating so little that things just... stopped working. Again, I was overweight. People and doctors thought I was just lazy. I was told to eat less and exercise more. Even my blood tests came back fine until one day, they didn't. And even then, nobody listened. Somebody doesn't have to look how you expect them to in order to have a problem. Also, don't be afraid to reach out for help if you feel like some of this hits close to home or someone you know is showing symptoms. It's okay to need help.

So remember, eating disorders can affect anybody with any body. The important thing is to be kind, supportive, and encourage professional help such as cognitive therapy.

****

Now to list Fabian's risk factors (I only listed the ones I believe he has)

Dysfunction family: This is a big risk factor for Fabian. His father is chaotic evil and (despite loving his son) puts massive pressure on him and tries to make him conform to his ideal for most of Fabian's life. Fabian has seen his father abuse his crew and snap at the drop of a hat. His mother has been a heavy alcoholic and mostly absent his entire first 16 years and when she gets off alcohol, she puts an extreme amount of pressure on him herself.

Abuse: This is another big one. His parents have been verbally abusive, emotionally abusive, neglectful in a variety of ways, controlling, manipulative, isolating, and his mother rested his food intake. He could have also been physically abused in the guise of sparing.

Genetics: Fabian's mother is very slim. Using images of weights and comparing it to her shape, she in fact fits the underweight shape which may or may not imply a genetic component depending on if the normal body shapes are different for high elves or not.

Exposure to warped body ideals and weight stigma: Exposure to "body ideals" in places like the media (especially if at a young age) can increase body dysfunction and eating disorder risk. Weight stigma can make this worse due to discrimination and stereotyping based on a person’s weight. Fabian has actually been exposed to this a lot due to his father and the crew. He's a kid around very strong muscular people and he feels pushed to get stronger to live up to his dad. It's also very easy to imagine that crew members who were not strong or active enough got a very bad reaction from his father, which would reinforce the ideal. Some of this is conjecture, but it's not so far outside the realm of possibility to be impossible.

Participation in sports: He's on the Bloodrush team and is a fencer.

Pressure to have a certain body shape from family: I think this risk factor is there too, especially when his mother takes over training.

Bullying/Teasing: Fabian was actually bullied by peers when he first starts school, but I believe his parents were bullying him long before that.

Trauma and PTSD: Oh boy, is this solid. He was most likely traumitized by his parents before high school. He saw two new friends die the first day of school and nearly died himself, only saved by Riz. He watched two teachers die by gunshot right in front of him (and a staff member killed by bludgeoning). Fabian mentions having nightmares about Riz killing Daybreak which might have been due to it being via gunshot. He was forced to kill people due to the situation he found himself in. The person who was supposed to have been helping them the entire time (Biz) turned out to be an evil dude who trapped one friend in a palimpsest and wanted to capture another. He was stuck in jail for weeks! His family was attacked, his home was damaged, and his dad died (and by his hand no less). He and his friends almost died to a dragon. That's a LOT of trauma for a kid to try to process and Jawbone mentioned that he never came to visit him, so he probably dealt with a lot of it on his own.

Low self-esteem: This is unfortunately something else he has. Despite all the bravado, he doesn't know how to be a friend or have people like him for who he is (instead of who his parents are or how much money he has). He tries to put up a cool front, but he judges himself very harshly.

Perfectionism. One of the strongest risk factors for an eating disorder is perfectionism, especially self-oriented perfectionism, which involves setting unrealistically high expectations for oneself. If they fail to meet their high expectations, the person becomes very self-critical. Fabian has this type of perfectionism.

History of an anxiety disorder: This one is reaching, but possible. People often show signs of an anxiety disorder (generalized anxiety, social phobia, OCD,...) before the onset of an eating disorder and Fabian stays on edge a lot, worries excessively, puts up a front, and deals with nightmares.

Substance abuse: Fabian has had alcohol and drugs before the age of 16, his parents almost encouraging it. He smokes regularly. Addiction runs in his family as well with his mother being an alcoholic and his father doing multiple drugs. Neither parent even hides the fact that they take drugs and drink alcohol to excess, the crew probably took drugs and got drunk in front of a young Fabian, and Bill offered drugs to his friends upon meeting them.

History of using weight-controling methods and dieting: Fabian exercises a great deal. He skips meals. He has a limited number of things he will eat. There is a lot of evidence to back this up.

Limited social networks: This was a HUGE issue before high school. Fabian was very isolated. He had no friends, limited social activities, and lacked proper social support. Recently, he's been skipping class exclusively which on top of smoking a lot, puts distance between him and other people.

Long story short? Our boy is at risk. Big time.

****

List of common signs of eating disorders (including anorexia)

Limited food intake: Seen when he has mostly protein smoothies, his mother tries to give him limited rations, and when he refuses to eat with his friends more and more as the series goes on. The first incident of it was in Cool Kids, Cold Case where Fabian refused the food he was offered on two separate occasions, passing it to Riz both times. Once was after the battle with Daybreak and being stuck at the police station a good while. The other was when the teens were hanging out at Riz's appartment when Sklonda got takeout. Fabian's mom also makes him earn food as seen in the live show. This mentality could have very well been internalized, even with Cathilda there to try and give him more.

Excessive monitoring of the calorie and fat content of food: He worries about empty calories, how fattening something is, and removed the cheese from a slice of pizza and dabbed the oil

Fear of being “fat” or in a shape that is not the ideal: In episode 1 of season 2, he is very preoccupied with staying trim and tight.

Excessive exercise: He exercises who knows how long every morning plus for Bloodrush plus the times outside of that

Food rituals: This is interacting with food a certain way (like small bites or how it's prepared) which causes anxiety when not followed. The pizza event might be one, but it's hard to say without a pattern.

Sleeping issues: Fabian has issues with sleeping, dreaming, and nightmares. His father confirmed this and he himself mentioned his nightmares.

Weight loss: By comparing his previous official artwork with his new official artwork, it's easy to see that Fabian looks visibly thinner. He's also VERY cut. (very defined muscles requiring very little fat) for his age. He was muscular last year sure, but his chest and abs are much more defined this year. Being that cut means that despite how muscular Fabian is, he has been eating less and probably doing fat burning exercises, getting a lot of his nutrition from multivitamins and whey, and would have less energy than normal.

Negative energy balance/chronic fatigue: This is only a possibility, but it deserves being mentioned. If this is going on, it puts a spin on some of Fabian's other actions in season 2, episode 1. He showed up late on move in day and didn't really move anything (just carried a book), which might have been a character thing, but could have also been because Fabian is running on empty and capable of things like adrenaline fueled busts of energy, but otherwise dealing with low energy and fatigue.

Also, Fabian is smoking now which works as an appetite suppressant as is common among those with eating disorders.

(Signs with no evidence as of this post: problems with body image, denial of low body weight, cold intolerance, mood swings)

~*~*~*~*~*~

TLDR: Fabian is showing a lot of symptoms of an eating disorder and also over a dozen risk factors. The number of both is substantial enough to see a pattern. Enough that I sincerely hope that it's acknowledged during the season because if Fabian does not have an eating disorder, he is at substantial risk of developing one.

PS: I know it's data heavy, I might have missed a few things, and it could be totally wrong, but I seen enough there that I thought it might make for a solid theory. D20 is no stranger to heavy subjects and I think if they do cover it, they will do a good job (as always). If they don't, I still learned a lot making this theory and maybe a few of you will as well. ^_^

#fantasy high #fabian seacaster #d20 theory #dimension 20 #d20 #theory #tw eating disorder #tw anorexia #tw anxiety mention #tw abuse mention #tw violence mention #tw trauma mention #fantasy high spoilers #tinfoil time

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scribeofmorpheus · 6 years

Text

I Don’t Dance To Dubstep part 3 (A Deadpool Fic)

Part One, Part Two

Here is a deleted scene of dialogue for this chapter if you are interested!

A/N: Okay so the conversation with Cable about the scars isn't intended to be a metaphor for self-harm or hint at bad parenting. Instead, it is meant to be a metaphor for embracing ones perfectly imperfect flaws like stretch marks or cellulite or skin discolouration. In short, it's nothing ominous. Also, this is the longest chapter yet! And don’t mind the fact I inserted myself into the fic, he does like to break that fourth wall of realism that darned Wade Wilson! Readers mutant power given alter ego is DJ, so no ‘Y/N’ in this chapter.

Words: 2399

Warnings: Mature Language,

(Gif isn’t mine)

"Okay be honest, what would you want your stripper name to be?" Wade continued his useless musings with Domino over the comms.

"That's easy: Lady Luck," Domino said without having to think about it.

"Huh… I'd go with Shiklah the Divorcer, abbreviate it to STD." Wade said wryly. There was a larger story behind his words.

"What?" Domino asked, completely oblivious to the context of the STD jeer, although truthfully, no one else seemed to get it either.

"Are we all in position?" asked Wade over the secure channel. Your earpiece felt like nails on a chalkboard due to your ability to focus sound waves. Your head snapped to the side and you made a hissing noise. Cable, who had been partnered up with you shot a concerned look your way. You raised your scarred hands up to signal you were fine.

"We're in position," Cable answered, the feedback from your proximity to each other caused another intense soundwave to vibrate through you. You winced and decided to remove the earpiece. "Won't you need that?" Cable asked you.

You gave a half crooked smile, "That's what you're here for, isn't it? Kick ass, not take names and listen to Wade's annoying voice shouting profane nonsense into your ears?"

Cable hummed, unamused by the image you just painted in his mind, "Unfortunately," he said. He opened his fanny pack- Ahem! His utility bag- and grabbed his lip balm, applying some on with a very serious expression on his face while maintaining eye contact with you. It felt both intimate and weird all at once. You were definitely confused by it. According to Wade, he did that a lot.

You cackled in a dramatic fashion after the eye contact turned from intense to awkwardly silly, filling the empty street with a Wicked-Witch-of-the-West sounding laugh echoing through the empty street. Bored, you used your abilities to amplify the frequency, making the laugh boom louder.

Cable tilted his head as Wade undoubtedly had something to say about your use of your powers for no reason other than boredom, "Wade said to keep it down to the 'sexy octave levels of James Earl Jones'," Cable relayed to you.

You whispered "Fuck you, Wade Wilson," and amplified the sound of your words into an even louder pitch until the glass windows groaned from the intensity and Cable was forced to cover his ears from the sheer volume of it.

"That's not exactly keeping things discrete, DJ, might want to tone it down a bit!" Cable shouted in discomfort, his words drowned out by the frequency of your own.

"Yeah, well we've been sitting in this car park dressed like background characters of a Will and Grace special for two hours now. If she was indeed on her way here, she'd have been here by now!" You huffed.

The two of you were on rear exit duty. If Wade and Domino failed to trap and kidnap the new contract, the two of you would give her a rude awakening. To your annoyance, your target was uncharacteristically tardy today, so for now, all four of you waited, dressed in the most unflattering disguises, staying incognito while stalking around the building your target regularly frequented. It was a Chinese restaurant that acted as a front for an illegal underground gambling ring. Your target was a pill pushing 'Madame' who had a habit of gambling away half her profits.

Cable closed his eyes and leaned against the hood of the car you drove in, it was a taxi, Deadpool had called up his pal Dopinder, who was out on a coffee run, to drive the four of you to the location. You sat cross-legged, shades shielding your eyes from the sun, on top of the warm yellow hood, there was an odd impression on the opposite side of the bumper that looked like the kind of mark someone who had been run over would leave.

Cable was taking slow, thoughtful breaths, not at all bored by the inactivity. You had noticed he always carried a teddy bear everywhere with him, it was quite the juxtaposition to his otherwise serious, brooding default setting. Letting curiosity win over you, you blurted out: "What's the deal with little Osito there?"

Osito was Spanish for bear. You had grown up in a bilingual household. Your mom was the one who prominently spoke Spanish at home, you had an easy time picking it up as a kid.

"What's the deal with the scars on your hands?" He asked, deflecting his personal question by asking you a personal question of your own. Smartass. He thought he had the upper hand, he assumed you wouldn't be comfortable talking about your scars, everyone always assumed that. He was in for a rude awakening!

"Casualty of being such a badass!" you quipped playfully. Cable gave you a small chuckle making you feel like you had just paved through a new milestone in your… acquaintance-ship?

"Is that so?"

"I managed to bring the great Cable to his knees on our first meeting, so yeah, I say so," you smirked proudly at him and he scowled.

"As a kid, my parents didn't understand what I was. I didn't either. I'd cause small quakes when I was angry or sad or happy or excited. Murdered a lot of Mom's fine china. Busted Dad's TV once. Eventually, they couldn't pretend anymore, and I saw how much I scared them. I scared myself if I'm honest. They told me to be normal, stop with all my craziness. I didn't know any better, I didn't know my abilities were as much a part of me as the colour of my eyes or the slant of my nose, so I repressed it. These-" you rotated your hands this way and that, giving Cable a show of spirit fingers, showcasing all the scars and tears from years of cuts and numerous surgeries, "These were the resulting effect. I broke many fingers. Some cases the waves would slice through skin. After my eighth break, I said 'Fuck it!' I began to use my abilities freely and openly. Of course, I was smart enough to know when to be discrete and when to wreak untold havoc upon some asshole who groped my ass in high school. And I haven't looked back ever since."

You had shocked Cable with your candour. You never minded explaining the scars, they were just younger versions of your many battle wounds. They made you what you are -which may not be perfect, but you couldn't give a flying fuck if you didn't conform to societies controlled demographic of normalcy. You were a rebel all your own. You gave Cable a wink, not at all shy or embarrassed that you just spilt private secrets so nonchalantly.

"Jesus," he said, only with less sarcasm then you ever thought him able to muster. "Did you kill him? The Asshole in high school?"

You laughed, amused at his question. He must think you some sociopath. Then again with an apathetic partner like Truth Dog and a habit of shooting up Wade all the time, he might not be wrong. It was still fun though!

"No, I didn't kill him. I used my sonic frequency to shatter all his trophies the school displayed in the trophy case. I may not have seen it, but I know he cried afterwards. Murder isn't the only solution you know. Some days you just have to find what stupid, materialist things people associate with their self-worth and-" You focused a low-frequency sound wave on the car and the window glass shattered in your demonstration, "Apply enough pressure!"

"My CAR!" Dopinder whined from behind you as he raced over to the taxi with his tray of coffees.

"Whoops!" You whispered before pointing nonchalantly to Cable, "He forgot to set his gun to stun. He sneezed and it just went off. Be glad he hadn't had the dial turned up to 11!" You blatantly threw Cable under the bus. He didn't say anything, but you could feel his cool eyes staring at you in less than amused mood. You giggled playfully.

"Yeah, well I hope you can pay for this Mr Cable, because I already have that dent to get out from Mr Pool's joyride when he was drunk that one time and decided to go all GTA on everyone," Dopinder said in his accented tone.

"Put it on my tab," Cable growled, causing Dopinder to gulp, a bead of sweat gathering above his temple.

"On second thought, I'll just put it on Mr Pool's tab. Since he'll… you know, need to use my cab again."

"Did you say something, Mr Roboto?" You heard Deadpool coo over the earpiece at Cable.

"Your coffee is here," Cable said. Through the earpiece, you heard Wade make an excited squealing noise and what sounded like Domino sighing heavily.

Some seconds later, Deadpool and Domino came repelling down a pipe from the roof and rushed over to get their coffees from Dopinder. Domino chose to wear her hair in stylish Bantu Knots, she had said it was a bad hair day, but she looked as flawless as ever. You were afraid you might be in love with her, or maybe it was her hair or the fact she had heterochromia, or at the very least you were maybe little too obsessed with her outfit! Who cared, Domino was plain freaking awesome!

"Give me that sugary goodness," Deadpool said as he kissed Dopinder through his mask and reached for his coffee. He took his mask off halfway, exposing his mouth, and sucked down dramatically on the frothiest, most hideous excuse for a coffee you had ever seen.

Domino grabbed her macchiato and Cable his latte, you were surprised someone all dark and brooding and serious like him would drink anything with milk in it. You grabbed your cappuccino and thanked Dopinder who was drinking a milkshake.

"What the FUCK is this?" Deadpool asked after he finally finished taking his first sip, more like chug. "This isn't the Caramel Macchiato, Venti, Skim, Extra Shot, Extra-Hot, Extra-Whip, Sugar-Free coffee I ordered!" He bellowed loudly.

"Are you sure that thing is even classified as coffee anymore?" Domino quipped after taking a sip of her macchiato.

"Are you sure that thing is even classified as coffee anymore?" Wade mimicked like a four-year-old brat.

"Whatever," Domino said raising her hands in the air and rolling her eyes.

"The real question is: Where is this easy target and big payday you promised me?" You inched closer to Wade with a look that could kill. You blew air in his ear and amplified the inaudible frequency so that it damn near scrambled his brain. He squalled like a crying child with colic and dropped his Starbucks cup, foam and syrup and what little actual coffee there was in it splattered on the hood of the car coating everyone in the sickly sweet liquid except for Domino, by some unfair miracle.

"That's just fucking great!" Cable said in annoyance as he used his free hand to wipe away the frothy foam that covered his chest. You did the same and licked some of the foam off your finger, all the guys ogled you like you were some damn peacock.

"Men!" Domino said in disgust. You giggled as the gleeful feeling of dominating power coursed through you.

"To answer your question, Carrie White," Wade was referring to you.

"Carrie had telekinetic powers, Mr Pool, wouldn't it make more sense to call her Abra Stone, I'm pretty sure if she tried DJ could generate an earthquake too?" Dopinder asked innocently.

"No, Dopinder, what would make more sense would be to call her Black Canary, but given as how that is a completely different comic book universe and the fact that whoever thought up DJ's powers was an unimaginative lout who couldn't think up something cooler than sound manipulation and also thought DJ was an intuitive play on words and abilities, no, I do not think it would be better to call her Abra Stone. Shockwave maybe... but that’s trdemarked by Hasbro, so," everyone looked at Deadpool in confusion. "Anyway! I'm pretty sure she'll show up any minu-" Deadpool was interrupted by the sound of his phone receiving a message.

"Whoops, Ha-ha, forgot to put that on vibrate," Wade wiggled his eyebrows which strained against the tight fabric of his mask, "Ah, it's Weasel, apparently Madam Mayflower… Pffft- Mayflower! Anyway, apparently, she's not coming. She's going somewhere else today. Oooh! It's a Burlesque Club!"

"Well, what's the fucking plan?" Cable asked showing signs of impatience for the first time.

Wade looked over at you, Cable and Domino, his eyebrows clearly raised in mischief behind his mask.

“Now Madonna, Cher and… The Jackson Five,” he pointed to each of you, assigning you with the corresponding singer’s name.

Domino rolled her eyes at being designated as the entire music group of the Jackson Five (it was no doubt a play on the fact she usually wore her hair in an afro).

Wade made sure he used his most diva emulating performance to sell his pitch, “Put on your favourite dancing shoes and wear your skimpiest outfit. Because ladies, we’re going to put on the best burlesque show of our lives!”

“Jesus,” Cable grumbled. You noticed he did that a lot. You wondered if it would ever stop being comical and turn annoying.

Domino raised her hand.

“Yes, Jackson Five?”

“Which 80′s singer are you in this scenario?”

“Why, the legendary Dolly Parton, of course!” Deadpool said gleefully

"What about me Mr Pool?" Dopinder asked feeling a little left out.

"You are Driving Miss Daisy, now common let's go," Wade walked in imaginary heels and sauntered like a runway model to the front seat in the cab.

"That's not even a singer," Dopinder said with a frown.

"Hey, at least you aren't given the title of an entire music group just because of your hair!" Domino said in deadpan.

"Nah, he just got stereotyped as a slow cab driver!" You chimed in before taking your seat in the middle of the cab.

Part Four is HERE!

MASTERPOST | For Tumblr App

As Always: I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I got carried away with this one a little bit. Anyway, if you like this fun little series don’t hesitate to ask to be added to the tag list!!! Also, check out my READER WEEK challenge that will be held on the 27th, Open to all followers!!

Tags: @demonhunter1616 @msstarsword

Permanent Tags: @gruffle1 @thechickvic @notawarriorjustyet

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oscopelabs · 5 years

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Elvis, Truelove and the Stolen Boy: The Tragic Machismo of Nick Cassavetes’ ‘Alpha Dog’ by Amy Nicholson

[Last year, Musings paid homage to Produced and Abandoned: The Best Films You’ve Never Seen, a review anthology from the National Society of Film Critics that championed studio orphans from the ‘70s and ‘80s. In the days before the Internet, young cinephiles like myself relied on reference books and anthologies to lead us to films we might not have discovered otherwise. Released in 1990, Produced and Abandoned was a foundational piece of work, introducing me to such wonders as Cutter’s Way, Lost in America, High Tide, Choose Me, Housekeeping, and Fat City. (You can find the full list of entries here.) Our first round of Produced and Abandoned essays included Angelica Jade Bastién on By the Sea, Mike D’Angelo on The Counselor, Judy Berman on Velvet Goldmine, and Keith Phipps on O.C. and Stiggs. Today, Musings concludes our month-long round of essays about tarnished gems, in the hope they’ll get a second look. Or, more likely, a first. —Scott Tobias, editor.]

A decade before the presidency that elevated insults like “betacuck” and “soyboy” into political discourse, Nick Cassavetes made Alpha Dog, a cautionary tragedy about masculinity that audiences ignored. Time for a reappraisal. Alpha Dog is about a real murder. Over a three-day weekend in August of 2000, 15-year-old Zach Mazursky—in reality, named Nicholas Markowitz—is kidnapped and killed by the posse of 20-year-old San Fernando Valley drug dealer Johnny Truelove (Emile Hirsch) with a grudge against Zach’s older brother. No one thought the boy would die, not his main babysitter Frankie (Justin Timberlake), not the girls invited to party with “Stolen Boy,” and not even the boy himself, played with naive perfection by Anton Yelchin, who played video games and pounded beers assuming that his new captor-friends would eventually take him home.

Cassavetes’ daughter went to the same high school as Nicholas Markowitz. The murderers were neighborhood kids and he wanted to understand how fortunate sons with their whole lives ahead of them wound up in prison. The trigger man, Ryan Hoyt—“Elvis” in the film—had never even gotten a speeding ticket. Prosecutor Ron Zonen hoped the publicity around Alpha Dog would help the public spot the real-life Johnny, named Jesse James Hollywood, who was still on the lam despite being one of America’s Most Wanted. So the lawyers gave Cassavetes access to everything: crime scene photos, trial transcripts, psychological profiles, police reports, and their permission to contact the criminals and their parents. Cassavetes even took his actors to meet their counterparts, driving Justin Timberlake to a maximum security prison to get the vibe of the actual Frankie, and introducing Sharon Stone to Nicholas Markowitz’s mother, a broken woman who attempted suicide a dozen times in the years after her son's death.

Alpha Dog, pronounced Cassavetes, was “95 percent accurate.” Which was part of why it got buried, thanks to Jesse James Hollywood’s arrest just weeks after the film wrapped. Cassavetes hastily wrote a new ending to the movie, but his problems were just beginning. Hollywood’s lawyers insisted Alpha Dog would prevent their client from getting a fair trial, and used the threat of a mistrial to force Zonen off the case. “I don't know what Zonen was thinking, handing over the files,” gloated Hollywood’s defense team. “It was stupid.”

The publicity, and the delays, dragged out the pain for Markowitz’s family, especially when they heard Cassavetes had paid Hollywood’s father an, er, consulting fee. “Where is the justice in that?” asked the victim's brother. “This just goes on and on, and I’m spending my whole life in a courtroom.”

The film, too, was pushed back a year from its Sundance premiere. Despite casting a visionary young ensemble—Alpha Dog was my own introduction to Yelchin, Ben Foster, Olivia Wilde, Amanda Seyfried, Amber Heard, and the realization that Timberlake, that kid from N*SYNC, could actually act—no one noticed when it slid into theaters in January of 2007. It wasn’t just the bad press. It was that audiences couldn’t get past that Cassavetes’ last film was The Notebook. No way could the guy behind the biggest romantic weepy of a generation make something raw and cool.

But he had. Alpha Dog is a stunning movie about machismo and fate, two tag-team traits that destroy lives. Think Oedipus convincing himself he can outwit the oracle of Delphi. But Sophocles’ Oedipus telegraphs its intentions, elbowing the audience to see the end at the beginning. Greeks sitting down in 405 BC knew they were watching a tale that came full circle. Every step Oedipus takes away from his patricidal destiny just moves him closer to it.

If you map Alpha Dog’s script, instead of a loop, it looks like a horizontal line that plummets off a cliff. For most of its running time, Alpha Dog could pass for a coming-of-age flick where a sheltered kid with an over-protective mom (Sharon Stone) taps into his own self-confidence, right up until the scene where he tumbles into his own grave. Audiences who’d missed the news articles about the case weren’t clued into the climax. Cassavetes doesn’t offer any hints or flash-forwards, not even an ominous “based-on-a-true-story.” (The film might have been more successful if he had.) Instead, he lulls you into joining the kegger, watching Zach crack open beer after beer as though he expects to live forever. “There’s a movie sensibility that the film doesn’t conform to,” said Cassavetes. “You don’t watch this film. You endure it.”

As Zach, his eyes red-rimmed from bong rips, not tears, is shuttled between party dens and wealthy homes, he’s given several chances to escape. He’s even revealed to be a Tae Kwan Do blackbelt who can jokingly flip his captor-buddy Frankie (Justin Timberlake) into a bathtub. But Zach stays put—he doesn’t want to get his big brother Jake (Ben Foster) in more trouble, not realizing that Johnny is too busy making nervous phone calls to his lawyer and his aggro father Sonny (Bruce Willis) to get around to asking Jake for the $1200 in ransom money.

Zach’s death is disorienting, almost as if Psycho's Marion Crane got murdered in the second-to-last reel. In a minivan en route to his execution, he innocently tells Frankie he wants learn to play guitar. “It bugs me that I don’t know how to do anything,” he sighs. Meanwhile Johnny assures his dad that there’s no need to call off the killing. “These guys are such fuck-ups, nothing's gonna happen,” he shrugs, a rare example of cross-cutting that defuses tension in order to make the shock of the gunfire even worse. Up until the last second—even after Frankie binds him with duct tape—a sobbing Zach still can’t believe Frankie would hurt him, and honestly, Frankie can’t believe it himself. And Yelchin’s own early death makes you ache for him to get a happy ending, which Cassavetes dangles just out of reach.

This is how evil happens, says Cassavetes. Masterminds are rare. Instead, people like Frankie can be basically good, but can also be panicky and passive and selfish. Shoving Zach in Johnny’s van was an idiotic impulse by upper middle-class kids, who flipped out when they realized the snatching could get them a lifetime sentence. There’s no honor or glory in the violence. Johnny, the cowardly ringleader, talks tough, but orders his most craven friend, Elvis (Shawn Hatosy), to pull the trigger while he and his girlfriend Angela (Olivia Wilde) get drunk on margaritas. And after the murder, one side effect is that Johnny can’t get an erection. When Angela tries to get Johnny in the mood in their hideout motel, the walls close in on him, suffocating the mood.

Away from his boys, Johnny is weak. Surrounded by them, he's the king. Alpha Dog sets up a culture of animalistic dominance. Johnny’s rental house is basically a primate cage at the zoo, only decorated with weight benches and Scarface posters. All of Johnny’s boys jockey to be his favorite and tear each other down in order to bump up their own rank. Kindness is weakness. When a fellow dealer with the ridiculous nickname Bobby 911 cruises by to negotiate a sale, he snarls at a guy who vouches for him: “You don’t need to tell him I’m good for it, man!”

Elvis, the future shooter, is the lowest member of the pack. He can’t ease into the group without Johnny ordering him to go pick up his pit-bull's poop in the backyard. Why do they pick on Elvis? He owes Johnny a bit of money, but the source of the scorn is simply group think. No one wants to be nice to the outcast, and Elvis is just too sincere to be taken seriously. When Elvis offers to get Johnny a beer, the guys tease him for being in love with Johnny. When he says sure, he does care about Johnny, they twist words into a gay panic joke. Elvis can’t win—they won’t let him—so he literally kills to prove his worth, and winds up sentenced to death row, where the real boy, just 21 at the time of the shooting, remains today. Another life wasted.

Cassavetes humanizes the killers because he wants us to understand how their micro decisions add up to murder. Not just the gunmen. Everyone’s a little to blame. The kids who got drunk with “Stolen Boy” and didn’t call the police. The girls who told Zach that being kidnapped made him sexy. Even Zach’s older step-brother Jake, an addict with a twitchy temper who escalates his war with Johnny to a fatal breaking point. Neither boy will back down over a $1200 debt, and there’s an awful split screen call when Johnny dials Jake intending to bring Zach home, but Jake is so boiling over with anger, his Bugs Bunny voice shrieking with outrage, that Johnny just hangs up the phone.

The opening credits, a montage of the cast’s own old home videos, underline that these were young and happy children—the kind of kids people point to as examples of the suburban American ideal. Over a treacly cover of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” we watch these real life boys being cultured to be brave: riding bikes, falling off dive-boards, running around with toy guns, going through the rituals of young manhood, from bar mitzvahs to karate lessons. Yelchin—recognizably dark-eyed and solemn even as a toddler—grins wearing plastic vampire teeth.

It takes another ten minutes for Yelchin’s character to sneak into the film sideways in a profile shot eating dinner with his parents, played by Sharon Stone and David Thornton. His Zach is barely even visible as brash Jake barges into the scene to beg for money. They say no, Jake stomps out, and Zach finally makes himself seen when he runs after his brother, begging to go anywhere less suffocating. Zach’s mom loves him so much that she watches him sleep. “I’m not fucking eight!” he yelps. He’s 15—practically a man, in his own imagination—and desperate to get away, even if it means mimicking Jake, a Jewish kid who’s so scrambled that he has a Hebrew tattoo on his clavicle and a swastika inked on his back. Jake starts to say that he wishes his own mom cared about him that much, but as soon as he gets vulnerable, he spins the moment into a joke. “Boo for me,” Jake grins, and takes another swig of beer.

“You could say it’s about drugs or guns or disaffected youth, but this whole thing is about parenting,” grunts Bruce Willis’ Sonny Truelove. “It’s about taking care of your children. You take care of yours, I take care of mine.” He’s half-right—his parenting is half to blame. Sonny and his best friend Cosmo (Harry Dean Stanton) taught Johnny to bully his friends. Cosmo, looking haggard and hollow, mocks Johnny for having one girlfriend. “You gotta plow some fucking fields,” he bellows. “Men are not supposed to be monopolous!” Not that “monopolous” is a real word, and not that Cosmo fends off women himself, except in his own big talk.

Cosmo and Sonny’s own posturing gradually emerges as being more dangerous than Johnny’s because it's more integrated into society. They’re the type of creeps who rewrite the rulebook to suit them, and attack journalists who try to tell the truth. When a fictitious documentarian asks Sonny about his son's drug connections, the father shrugs, “Did he sell a little weed? Sure.” But when the interviewer presses him further, Sonny snaps, “I’m a taxpayer and I’m a citizen and you are a jerk-off.”

Cassavetes, of course, understands growing up with a father who left a giant footprint to fill. His father, John Cassavetes, the writer-director of Shadows and Faces and A Woman Under the Influence, was one of the major pioneers of independent cinema. He died when Nick was 30, before his son attempted to take up his legacy. “We never really talked film theory,” said Cassavetes. “My experience with my dad was more along the lines of how to be a man, how to be yourself, how to free yourself from what society tells you to do, how to release yourself as an artist.”

It makes sense that Cassavetes would make his own ambitious, and maddeningly singular film. And perhaps it even makes sense to him that fate has yet to give him the reward he’s earned. Alpha Dog deserves to be acknowledged as one of the most incisive examinations of machismo and the banality of evil. But like his fumbling criminals, he knows he’s not really in charge of his life. Admitted Cassavetes, “I'm not smart enough to really have a master plan for my career.”

#alpha dog #alpha dog movie #nick cassavetes #john cassavetes #justin timberlake #emile hirsch #ben foster #amanda seyfried #olivia wilde #Nicholas Markowitz #Bruce Willis #Harry Dean Stanton #Oscilloscope Laboratories #O-Scope #musings #film writing

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ourmuse-s · 3 years

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Luisa Fischer

Writing About Music

Professor Loughridge

Due Feb. 28. 2021

Artist Interview

Eph See on Finding Her Sound, Balance and the Music Industry

This past week I had the chance to have a FaceTime interview with Felisha Cabral, otherwise known by her stage name Eph See. A third year Music student, Eph See has been making a name for herself around the Northeastern campus, with tracks such as “Field Recordings”, “Body” and “April”. We sat down together (virtually) to talk about the singer-songwriter’s processes, past and upcoming projects, as well as what it’s like to be a female and non-binary artist in the music industry.

When and how did you first start getting into music?

Music… I feel like every artist says this but music has always been a pretty prominent part of my life. Yeah, I remember doing theatre and choir and stuff since like elementary school and it just continued and continued. I did that throughout middle and high school as well but it wasn’t until I got to high school… we had something that was called Jazz Combo - we never really played jazz - but it was like rock band essentially and I was a vocalist for it and that got me into performing and I was like ugh it’s so cool to be able to you know sing all these songs in front of audiences and stuff even though it was like friends and family… but I really liked that. And then I started writing my own music seriously probably around freshman year of high school. I was a very musical person. If someone said something like a line that was stuck in my head I would just start singing it… I was definitely that kid. But yeah, I remember writing my first song ever ever, that I performed, when I was I think ten or eleven years old? And it was at summer camp and I got all the counselors to sing it with me as well as my backup singers. Oh my God it was sooo dramatic, but that’s the first thing I remember, like writing a song and performing it for people... and I guess here I am now!

What’s the first song you remember writing and really liking?

Okay that’s easy! That was a song I wrote at fifteen called “The Shelf”. It’s a song about unrequited love but someone that always comes back to you, I guess, because you’re there. And the whole premise is like “I’ll just stick to being another book you put back on the shelf and take down when you want”. I was fifteen, I don’t know what I was thinking… Like what was I feeling, what was I going through?

It’s funny that a high school crush as a fifteen year old can turn into a song like that…Did you ever end up recording it?

No. But I did perform it in front of my grade. That was the second time I performed an original song just me and my guitar and I performed it at school. I was like… pretty bold back then, which is kind of cool but also looking back at it I felt bold but during the performance I was so nervous.

Do you still get nervous when you’re performing today?

Oh yeah, all the time, but I think it’s just because I care. I want to do well and I want to connect. It’s less so about looking good or not messing up now… that used to be my fear. But now it’s, you know, what did I write this song for? To help other people and to help myself. And if I can do that well, I care a lot about it and when you care a lot about something, that can become nerves.

Yeah that makes a lot of sense… It’s funny because you seem like you’re a real natural at it.

Thank you! It definitely took time. But that’s another thing I forgot to mention, I did acapella for a while and that was a lot of performing very consistently.

And probably a lot of pressure too.

Oh yeah, especially with some of the crowds that we got. We did like a competition too, I remember my first year second semester in that group, we did do a competition and that was… terrifying. But we won and the feeling after that was insane.

Do you think you like performing in group settings (like with Acapella) more or when it’s just you and your music?

Mmmmmm… That’s a great question.

I love performing my own stuff, but I always love being with other people. I know for me community is such a big thing and I love people that I can create with consistently. Maybe it’s just me but it’s easier for me to create and be vulnerable with people that I trust and if I’ve worked with you a lot then we have built that sense of trust. I’ve always - still do - wanted to be in a band and everything, so I definitely see myself being someone who has a touring band that stays pretty consistent or people that I make music or write with pretty consistently. Or even if I work with a producer I’m probably going to keep my circle pretty small and just work with the same people.

Are you looking to form a band or have you taken any action to start one?

I haven’t… you’re calling me out… I think for me it’s just that some things should come together organically and I have tried posting on NeuGigs because I wanted specifically a band of women or non-gender conforming people because I already have to work with so many cis white men and it’s just not the vibe anymore. So definitely non-men, or non-men of color that I relate to more and I’m able to be more vulnerable and open and free with those kinds of people and that’s what I want out of my experience with a band. So, I definitely could do more to find those people but…

But I feel like you’re doing really well as a solo artist right now too.

Yeah. Yeah, that’s true too. I just found this band the other day called Hard Car Kids and I was like wow these voices all sound so familiar. Then I realized they were a bunch of little artists that I listen to who are friends and they made a band so I was like ugh that’d be sick. Something like that.

That’s so true, I love it when bands are all solo artists or have their own side projects. That way you can see different sides to each of them and sometimes the music they make as a band vs the music they make on their own is so different.

Yeah, I think it definitely allows for artists to have more creativity. Because you’ll find that everyone will tell you “Stick to one genre so you can be more marketable!”. With this one producer I’m working with right now, I’ve made six different songs… none of them sound anything like each other. But I think that it’s so good to get that stuff out because that’s kind of what writer’s block is. When you’re not allowing yourself to get everything out or only letting certain things out then of course you’re gonna have blockages because you’re not fully allowing yourself to create. I found that’s what I was going through a little while ago, and then we [producer + Eph See] started working together and now it just comes more naturally because I’m like okay anything that comes out I’m gonna let come out. Instead of only releasing things that would be good as singles because that just kills your creativity.

That’s so true. I think that you have to write some bad songs or ones you don’t love to eventually get to the ones that you’re really excited about. You have to lay the groundwork and get everything you’re feeling out into the world so you can move on and then get the songs you love.

I could talk all day about the pressure that capitalism puts on artists. Like only releasing “good” music… what is that? Good to who? What is the criteria? You know we can’t all write “Driver’s License” so. And when you look back, this is something I went through in quarantine, you know early shut-down - I was forced into a lot of alone time and I’m living alone now - well I don’t want to say forced because I benefited from it. But going through that and having to really see who I am when I’m not trying to be somebody for somebody else has reflected in my music. It’s gotten more honest. Instead of just writing about love all the time - because what is that? - I’ve been writing more about things like childhood and growing up, self expression and exploration.

Especially as a femme artist everyone expects you to write about love and heartbreak. But, there’s so much more to me than that. So I definitely had to let go of the pressure to only release like billboard charting songs because I want to look back at my discography and see growth. You know what I mean? And it’s not that my songs are bad now, but there’s going to be an evolution when you look at my discography. Like Ariana Grande’s Yours Truly and Positions sound nothing alike but they’re still great and I love being able to see her trajectory.

And to see how an artist grows after a couple projects.

And life! Like life changes you and that’s the whole point!

Exactly! Because sometimes you are in the mood to write a love song but… that’s not all there is to life.

There’s so much more.

And because it’s the main topic of most songs, especially for female artists, I feel like it’s easy to get caught up in that.

Right.

You recently came out with “Body” on Spotify, but do you have any other recent projects you’ve put out?

So “Body” was my latest Spotify release, but in December on New Year’s Eve I released a song called “April” on Soundcloud. Sometimes I just like to put stuff on Soundcloud… not as much as I should probably. One of my songs on there, “The Things I used to care about seem to stupid now”, has started to gain likes and plays again which is really cool to see.

...But it’s actually so true like the things I used to care about do seem so stupid now. But I wrote that last March so it’s about to come up on its one year anniversary and I still feel that way so I think it’s a song that will definitely age well with time which makes me very proud. In the comments there’s people really relating to it and that’s what makes me really happy because I think that was one of the most honest songs I’ve ever written. And it wasn’t easy to write because it was very vulnerable but it just shows that it’s worth it because I feel like the more vulnerable you are, the more people are drawn to it. It gives other people permission to feel that as well and to go that deep.

That’s a really good way of putting it. So how did you go about writing a song that’s really and intimate and how did you come up with the idea for that song specifically?

So that song was kind of funny because I just tweeted “I feel like writing an indie song right now” and people were like “well don’t just not do it then”. So then I did! I wrote it in like six hours. Wrote it, recorded it, produced it, mixed it all in six hours and then just posted it to SoundCloud and… Wow I’m actually getting kind of, I don’t want to say emotional but the way it all happened was so just on a whim and it’s the most streamed song on my SoundCloud. I just had a guitar riff that I played and then it just kind of flowed. But the first line is “lately I’ve been feeling like my past self is slowly peeling away” so I was dealing with a lot of identity issues. Two years ago in November I had what people would call a mental breakdown and it was really scary but needed. I think sometimes people think about mental breakdowns in a very nutcase kind of way but what a mental breakdown really is is the way you’ve been living your life or viewing the world or viewing yourself… your soul is just like “this is not it anymore and we can’t go on thinking about life like this or acting like this or being like this”. So then it’s like okay, purge, total recall, burn it all to the ground. You feel really raw for a bit but then slowly you start to reevaluate and piece things together in a way that fits better.

… That’s a bar. I’m gonna write that down. “Piece things together in a way that fits better”.

That’s another thing, I have a lyric dump so I just put anything there.

On your phone and on your laptop?

Mhm *as she’s typing away*

A lot of my songs are just like stitches from my lyric dump.

So, do you think that [“the things I used to care about seem so stupid now”] is your favorite song, or what would you say is your favorite song you’ve released?

Hmmm… Yeah!

I think… ooh… that’s a really good question. I think it’s the most authentic and most cathartic song that I have released but “Field Recordings” was probably my favorite writing process and releasing process.

I definitely want to release more music but I also have to honor the fact that I’m very much in my own winter season right now. But spring is coming. My life follows the seasons. Fall is all about releasing what you don’t need. Winter is, humans don’t hibernate, but I feel like… well let me not generalize. I don’t hibernate but in the winter time the world is telling me to slow down. Because when spring comes and you’re gonna have all these ideas and all of this stuff that you’re gonna want to do but you need to recharge first. And then summer is like, okay, bask in all the glory!

I get a lot of sunlight from my windows, like so much natural light in my apartment, as well as the view of the moon right outside my window.

I feel like that’s very on brand for you.

Oh my God, it is!

I was thinking about it yesterday and the universe really snapped. But yeah, I have all of these windows, just drinking tea, and I felt like a cat that just sprawls out in the sun. I was trying to get the sunlight all over my body, like my back and I was thinking how these parts of my skin have not felt the sun for so long so I need to soak it all in while I can. But spring is coming!

Do you have any songs on the backburner that you’re planning on releasing anytime soon?

Yeah. It’s about getting into recording and stuff but I’ve been working with the producer that I’ve really enjoyed working with. The only thing is my writing has been all over the place, in all different genres. So I might just set the precedent for anyone who listens to my music that if you listen to me you’re gonna get seven different things at once. And that’s okay. I know there’s a lot of people out there who listen to all different kinds of music. So it may not be as marketable, but I can be your one stop shop!

I also hate the idea of having to make only one type or genre of music. I feel like artists should just be able to write and go with how they’re feeling, and do a bunch of different things.

Yeah and you should be able to! There’s so much emphasis on marketability but how cool would it be to look at it in a different way like you do so much let’s show that. Because that will draw so many people to you. I just think sometimes marketing is really backwards.

Sometimes it feels like nowadays music is just based on how marketable it is.

I feel like there were people in the past that I’ve worked with and before I even wrote the song we were discussing marketing tactics. And that just made me not want to write the song because it gives you so much anxiety like this has to complete this and do this and that before it’s even, you know, been born. And I think again, with the whole killing an artist’s creativity, I do think there’s a beauty in wanting to do what you love as your job. I think everyone who wants to make music should be able to do that and survive. But there’s this whole system like you’re either a superstar and you’re rich or you’re starving.

And that alone, that fear, of putting all your work and energy and time and love into a project and not receiving anything from it… it’s criminal in my opinion. It doesn’t just kill your creativity. It kills your will and your love for music. That’s what I was just going through. I was focusing so much on release, release, release that I was like I don’t even want to do this anymore. Do I even want to do music? That’s so crazy. Music will always be part of my life, but that mindset made me question it.

So when you’re writing your music, are there any artists who influence you the most?

I grew up listening to all different kinds of music so let me look at my playlist… There’s an artist that I just discovered. I was scrolling through Tik Tok and they were singing and it was so beautiful. They’re name is Leith Ross, let me text it to you. I’ll actually text you the track, because it’s so good. But basically I’ve been listening to a lot of artists where their music is more conversational or more personal and raw. So even if I don’t directly relate to that experience, hearing them talk about what they’ve been going through, again is that idea of it’s okay to feel this and if this is what you’re going through, you’re not the only one.

I feel like you hear so much of this idea of I partied until 3am last night and now I don’t remember my name! Or I have all this money and I don’t know what to do with it! And in this world, especially right now, it’s just not relatable and it can give people an unrealistic world view and then they get dissatisfied with their own lives like “I’m not clubbing on a Tuesday night so I must be doing something wrong”. But I’ve seen this kind of revolution, of people romanticizing mondanity and the little things in life. And we’re shifting from instagram baddie culture to just I am who I am and I love that. I’m just in my little house, cooking my little things, but life is great! So that’s what I’ve been drifting towards.

Lizzie McAlpine is a really great example of that, and obviously I listen to songs like SZA and Frank Ocean, Chloe and Hally I’ve been listening to a lot. Also a lot of Arlo Parks and Hayley Williams also just dropped an album. So that’s what I’ve been listening to now, but if you want to make this a point then I can literally bop to almost anything. I would say expect country, but I like Kacey Muscgraves. But yeah, I listen to a lot. I think listening to a lot of music helps me write better music.

What’s the best advice that you’ve been given as an artist or do you have any advice that you would give a smaller or DIY artist just starting out?

I think it’s what we’ve been talking about.

It’s good to remember that just because you’re not famous now does not mean you’re not deserving of love and praise. Sometimes it’s just about the right person hearing your music and maybe not every song is meant to have a billion streams but I guarantee you, the right people will find it. And maybe someone who is really struggling heard your song and it made life a little more okay. We never know, but I think it’s better to think about it that way. Because the fact that you’re creating at all is really cool. Nobody can make what you make, so it’s like your duty to create.

#ephsee #artistinterview #music #musicindustry

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emersonmanandnature · 4 years

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July 31, 2020

God’s Commandments

the paddle was swift striking the child, it was his loving duty for god’s commandments were broken reflected in the blood stained underwear, his angry eyes were for those not chosen, a gleeful lightness of guilt was given to him from his cruel father, a satisfaction of his true calling, undermining the natural goodness of his children, insecure in his steady fears and frustrations he grew evermore a victim of his own aggressive faith, a willingness to appease these dire straits with angry accusations and a swift hand to the child’s questioning demands, he saw in himself as the dutiful husband for his savior and father, a child needs his heavenly handed purpose to correct mistakes in his flock of innocent sinners in order to rise-up to our known paradise not in these moments present but some illusive place above the evil we must instill in the faithful, god’s wrath, a hellish pain for those that ignore his celestial presence as others denounce him trying to separate the faithful from their true savior of infinite blame, for guilt is the cookie demanded in order to feel safe in his glory we must fear god’s anger, a deafening silence instilled in us through our fathers spiteful insecurities, his insights into his children’s faith made him uproot their innocence to show them the power of the one true god, the consequences of acts of disobedience to his holy word through god’s caring, loving pain and thus the lord’s suffering will become your suffering, for your innocence is no hiding place for corruption of your soul, amen to that, can I get a praise the lord for his love spread thinly amongst the craving of crass humans starving to see this man-god of light secluded for only the few to touch his words and fear his angry silence, saving us from our narrow mindless will of complacent lies toward biblical suppression that created wrongful attitudes amongst the true herded flock praying aggressively in the name of our lord

but you my children will rise above the rest and become pillars of society, understanding, interpreting our lords suffering as a gift we must accept from our almighty father’s love of his only son to be sacrificed and not himself for we must suffer for our despicable human nature, minds untethered losing sight within corrupted instincts and self-centered ruins of a freedom now envied, thinking one’s actions are duly instigated by righteous beliefs I will be the only one to save my children from their inability to conform to the word of his spiritual demands, voiceless, only I can hear in the wee hours before sunlight tries to enter through curtains drawn and the dark space speaks my moods to prepare others for their final judgement, to feel an intruders light footsteps but I am not taken in another drunken stupor spewing sacrilegious untruths to god’s real nature, an inner vice to corrupt their innocence no! not in my, oh I mean his presence, so we must teach them to distrust others, these weeping sinister ploys to disrupt our future resurrection with great acts of demonic intention that will break apart our rising to his lofty throne creating for us a holy folly of sin an intoxication of life’s sensual pleasures, heathens of earthy mustiness, shame on them these voiced indecencies these demons of material wants, beware my children, I will not allow this to become an entity of false faith for I am the lords tool in this beloved household of god’s will we trust above all others, I am your law and I am the punisher and you will obey his holy father through me, for I have seen the end of days and I know the heretics approach us in sin mouthing eden is here on this earth why destroy it and they ask for our love my children in their physical separation of our holy truth where addiction to an invisible savior is projected outward to bring our lord’s flock to our churches and homes where we will be debriefed and held accountable for all sins duly noted, praise forgiveness of innocence for it knows not what it preaches, innocence must

be sacrificed if we are to obtain our saintly goals of submission to his needs, praise our lord jesus christ and his holy mother mary our congregation is blinded by the extravagant masses we perform and the bringing in of famous personalities to ask our flock of sinners to offer up more of their cash to keep this wonderful church going strong until the minister of compassion and his mistress escape out of the country where the preachers off shore accounts are located, praise the lord listen to the priest wallow in his own significance, he raises himself up with a stoic expression, climbs the steps slowly to his almighty pulpit and begins his sermon on the mount, “praise the lord, can I hear from you heathens of vice a louder praise the lord thy god his majesty of all life, you unclean traitors of gods holy will, immoral polluters of flesh, be cast out satan’s flock of cowards, hallelujah god’s wrath is upon you not me my faith is strong and pure, your punishment for his sacrifice on the cross of pain your unfaithfulness is the agony, the pain of being abandoned without salvation, think if you can our jesus, our savior given to us by his half witted father, excuse me, his holy thoughtless father our creator of all, our salvation never brought to fruition, promises made and time kept nearing the apocalypse but in actuality it has been a long time since our heavenly father brought anyone up to the heavenly skies in our presence, it is a mystery story, a poor one at that, our rising up after the worms have feasted, eaten away our bodies with no one having the common decency to give us some idea of our life after dying it appears that with the silent void we are to assume we die without god’s mercy or his caring hand exposing our human nature that assume themselves more important than his son and holy ghost, and he called us his human beings or maybe that is what we called ourselves after we crawled out of the swamp and high fived each other and said wow what a messy life that was, but we had no idea as to the startling corruption of our new lives, our new vices of flesh and money addiction, can I receive another hallelujah, besides where is this heaven this glorious garden, are we to assume it is not present here as we live and breath but we just can’t see the perfection of mother earth because of all the greed and destruction of our once paradise, and when we arrive at the doors of the big man’s house I guess we are supposed to party like it was 1999 again, abandoned by his holy ghost that is bull shit, now get out of my church you slugs of disgusting sin, but please dig deep in your forsaken pockets and get out that green stuff we love so much and give and give until your money is gone to this church of holy words that ultimately mean nothing in this silent void of truth becoming lies, inventions of humans to exploit each other for wealth, little hooks to get you to pay for the entertainment,”

Deuteronomy 34-35: “Is not this preserved in my treasury, sealed up in my storehouse, against the day of vengeance and requital, against the time they lose their footing? Close at hand is the day of their disaster, and their doom is rushing upon them!”

Don’t we all feel the ultimate collapse of our morals and ethics in our present day on this planet and find ourselves just mute sinners waiting for the end of days!

God looks on with pleasure at our sinful nature for he is waiting to condemn all sinners to the hell of his fiery sidekick of immoral behavior, the one and only the great fallen angel lucifer, can I get a high five and a hallelujah!

my children you can’t bend my inner mind to dismiss your callous sinning, please be with me in this never ending mystery of days passing without my true purpose, one of following the holy ghost that is in me accusing children of sins never committed but I am a sinner and will be punished as I punish you for your innocence, breath fouled with words false truths and I will rid you of this devil in you, praise our holiness for his angry insights into our egos seeing in us the mystery of satan’s work it will do no good to cry and plead for you know as I do the sinner must wander alone in spite of his truth, can I get a high five from the prince of darkness, the almighty has spoken to me of this truth, of my necessary evil deeds and heaven awaits those that will succumb to the dark void of spirits forceful fist and the strap of god’s love on your back, listen children don’t make me turn again into the enforcer of our father’s will his servant to redeem your failing souls to his almighty purpose, I will not accept any words defying the holy words of the bibles perfect absolute truth, I will have no words spoken questioning the bibles fruitless inspirations, or anger at our human condition, killing others for power, no excuses for not adhering to christ’s laws of steadfast kneeling before him on his cross humbled by his father’s cruel demands, the almighty spirit, a state carved with loving care in the church bought with your hard earned money and hard earned untruths spoken with authority and pleasure, the stained glass image of christ as a handsome white man raising his hands to give not the peace sign but wait is that his middle finger rising from the dead and I believe he is speaking to the congregation of fools on the hill lets listen in on our lords precious words, “ and to all you sitting in righteous jealously, praying to me and my father and of course my grouchy uncle the holy ghost is ludicrous, for you will never see a heaven above because your narrow minds are living in the heavenly earth I created for you, oh shut up and quit blaming adam and eve they were beautiful renters and their wonderful children, good kids and better parents and I can’t help that you were duped by the powers that crucified me and made you believe in an illusion of an after life when in fact this is it so you better fight for this planet before greed and criminal minds put the final knife in it and believe me you are very close to losing this earth through these charlatans of hateful propaganda, the obnoxious power of elites but I can tell you their truth they are not smart in understanding empathy or love for anyone for their focus is on themselves and the profit they can make off the suffering of the people that are slaves to their will, they believe they have god like powers, these charlatans of hate separating us to fight each other, they are the new wave of godless gods to rule this world for selfish power and profits on the backs of you the lowly sinners that don’t have a chance in hell to go to any heaven except the incinerator or back into mother earth, for you live in a savagery of brutal racism, the battering of morals, the barbarian thugs seeking an old god, money over men, women and children, through the centuries of waiting for a sign from me you fell over each other in the biggest con of any lifetime, for 20 centuries you have waited in hopeless agony to have me return and make everything beautiful for you instead of you making this planet not a place of suffering but a place of beauty and acceptance of all peoples as one united in intuitive self awareness.”

#earthly paradise #adan #eve #truth #satan #illusion #cjcorwinoriginal

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fireandgloryrpg · 7 years

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Congratulations Kcat and welcome! We’re so happy to accept your application to play Wesley Austen Novak with the faceclaim of Matthew Clavane in Fire & Glory RPG! We can’t wait to begin roleplaying with you so please remember to look over our checklist!

!! tw: death mention, bullying !!

OUT OF CHARACTER INFORMATION

Name: kcat Pronouns: she/her/they/them Age: 21 Timezone: EST

ORIGINAL CHARACTER APPLICATION

BASIC INFORMATION

Name: Wesley Austen Novak Age and Birthday: 18 (to be 19 shortly), 25 October 1998 Faceclaim: Matthew Clavane (preferred because closer in desired age), Ezra Miller Heritage: Child of Thanatos Affiliation: Fifth Cohort Legionnaire

ACTIVE ABILITIES:

Necromancy: can communicate with the souls of the recently deceased; can raise the spirits of the dead for a brief period of time – raising the dead continuously drains their energy and must be used carefully, but if spirits are already present (i.e. hauntings), speaking with them takes no toll despite the fact that it might appear odd to watch them chatting with thin air.

Touch of Death: while the children of Thanatos can’t actually kill anyone via touch, they can drain a bit of their opponent’s life force – this ability at its maximum can render others unconscious, but while it may charge the child of Thanatos for a short time, the obtained energy will eventually wear off and the power won’t be available again until at least a few hours’ recharge.

Invisibility: Thanatos is known to carry out his reaping duties while invisible and his children have inherited this ability, but can only hold it for a maximum of about five minutes at a time with at least thirty minutes in between uses.

PASSIVE ABILITIES:

Can sense death nearby whether human, faunal, or monstrous.

Can handle Stygian iron weapons.

HEADCANONS:

Wes literally lives for Halloween. They’re usually more on the quiet and reserved side of things, but come October, their mood can switch to bright and bubbly at a moment’s notice. Halloween itself is that one rare day in the whole of the year that they don’t feel the label of “freak” clinging to their back. Wes has been finding comfort in graveyards since well before they were aware of their godly heritage, and they have often made better friends out of spirits than the living.

Wes is a solitary practicing witch. They don’t have powers like the children of Hecate or Trivia, however. Their status as a witch is purely spiritual and the craft they practice is a matter of reverence and regard to natural energies. Being thrust into the world of Greek and Roman gods has not changed their beliefs, but, in fact, widened them. Wes makes use of Temple Hill to send prayers and/or requests to the gods.

BIOGRAPHY:

!! tw: death mention, bullying !!

Imagine if you died and met your second dad. Sounds crazy, right? Well, then I guess that makes me a fucking lunatic.

Wesley Austen Novak met their godly parent en route to the emergency room. Lying there in the ambulance, they found themself blinking up at a Mr. Tall Dark & Handsome as he briefed them on two realities: one, that accepting Trevor McClane’s dare to swim across the pool in the middle of a thunderstorm was about one of the most idiotic things they’d ever done, and two, they were the demigod child of the god of death, aka. the “grim reaper”, which was one of the very few reasons why they’d be coming back from this dumbass stunt.

Wes always knew they were a little odd, but a demigod? Talk about a plot twist.

Wesley’s unbeating heart started up again seemingly on its own, to the shock and befuddlement of the Landen paramedics. As soon as they snapped up on their stretcher like something out of a horror movie jump scare, Thanatos was gone.

Wes was adopted and they were never told otherwise. Their single father was a lawyer who would be a hypocrite if he raised his kid on a lie while he preached the value of honesty. However, Wesley struggled to be honest with their father from a young age. Christopher Novak had always wanted a son. It was evident in his encouragement for Wesley to play sports, join Boy Scouts, play video games or go exploring with the other guys in the neighborhood… Wesley was good at all of these things, but they didn’t see why it was frowned upon when they invited the girls to play with the boys or why they were being lame when they wanted to do arts and crafts instead of staging an army mission on the playground. They didn’t understand, but they didn’t argue.

Wesley’s dad was everything to them. They wanted nothing more than to make him proud, and if that meant being the son he had always dreamed of, so be it. Landen, Ohio was a small, conservative, Midwestern town. Terms like genderqueer and nonbinary were practically unheard of in a district supported prominently by private religious education. Classes were tight-knit and theology was woven into the class material whether the students followed the faith that sponsored the institution or not, but the parents often paid this spiritual discrepancy little mind. The private schools held the highest ratings in the region, and who didn’t want that esteem for their child?

Wesley wasn’t the only child in the private school system who didn’t conform to the schools’ ideals. When they were admitted to their father’s Jesuit alma mater – an all-boys academy – they were just as thrilled as he was. The pride Christopher attributed to his high school had won Wesley over to the desire of attending it early on, but as the months went by, Wes started to realize that the glamour built up around St. Xavier Academy wasn’t all it was chalked up to be.

High school came with the opportunity for Wesley to start branching out and becoming their own person, but rather than drifting towards those who could have been their true friends, Wesley allowed their father to herd them with the boys of his own high school companions. Christopher had been a rather popular figure in his day, so it didn’t come as much of a surprise to Wesley when his friends, and thus their sons, also turned out to be popular among the student body. Wesley got swept up in their tide, pinned by a seemingly indomitable force of peer pressure and the need to please their parent. They pretended to be someone they weren’t, and it ended with them electrocuted in Trevor’s backyard swimming pool at a party that he wasn’t supposed to be having.

After Wesley met Thanatos, everything changed. When they say death changes a person, they aren’t kidding. Finding out they had a god for a parent turned Wesley’s entire world upside down. Suddenly it made so much sense why they spent all of their after-school study sessions in the cemetery and why they were drawn to a spirituality that dealt with balances between life and death. It also explained why their classmates in theatre kept giving them bizarre looks when they started chatting with the attractive young guy that hung around in the rafters, who, according to them, wasn’t really there.

Wesley started doing research on their parental deity (as one does when they suddenly find out they’re a demigod) and soon became hooked on the repeated theme that death has no gender – which makes perfect sense, when you think about it. Everybody dies at some point, right? Everybody mortal, anyway. Race, sexuality, gender– in pretty much every representation around the world, Death didn’t give a fuck. And oftentimes, Death didn’t have any defining identities either. So Wesley thought, ‘If death has no gender, why should I?’ Finding courage in the history and nature of their parent finally prompted Wes to step up and release the feelings they had kept caged nearly all their life.

Coming out as genderqueer at a conservative, religious, all-boys high school didn’t go well for Wesley. They lost the fake friends their dad had matched them with, and worse, suddenly they were the one bearing the brunt of their teasing. They tried to make new friends, but having hung around with the school terrors, even on the passive fringes, meant that their name was permanently tarnished within the halls of the academy. The administration, too, struggled with how to handle their declaration when certain parents called in in an uproar. Eventually, Wes made it easy for the lot of them: they dropped out.

Christopher was furious. Wesley was mortified. He urged Wesley to return to school, assuring them that they’d work something out, but Wesley couldn’t bring themself to do so. What’d been done, was done. The child of Thanatos had seen their last of private education. The day after dropping out, while Christopher was out at work, Wesley woke up to someone’s unrelenting knocking at the front door. When they finally dragged their ass out of bed half-awake to answer it, they found a pretty little satyr quivering on the step with a folded note and a small box in hand.

The note came from their father and spoke of a camp up in New York State where they could be free to express themself away from the threats of the mortal world. The small box contained a gift – a simple necklace with a black, crescent moon pendant hanging on the string. ‘Not to be rude,’ they told the satyr, ‘but this is all starting to sound a little far-fetched to me.’ Wesley kept the pendant but, with their apologies, sent Sage – the satyr – away. Not even her hooves had yet convinced them out of their gloom. It wasn’t until they took a walk over to their favorite cemetery that afternoon to think things over that Wes came abruptly face-to-face with the fact that they weren’t actually going crazy. One doesn’t exactly unsee a young, grieving widow transforming into a bloodthirsty empousa, nor do they forget their necklace expanding into the form of a large and very very sharp scythe at its owner’s sense of danger. The scythe bit probably would have been cooler if Wes had had the slightest clue how to use it; but alas, it was Sage who saved the day.

The satyr led them to safety and further to the sanctuary of Camp Half Blood. Wesley didn’t get to say goodbye to their father and he was never enlightened about their true parentage. For his own safety, Wesley has not contacted him since their departure.

Wesley arrived at Camp Half Blood when they were sixteen years old. In April of 2017, they transferred to Camp Jupiter and joined the Legion in hopes of improving their combat skills and someday taking up classes at UNR. Their aloofness, lack of recommendation, and lax attitude toward authority has placed them in the Fifth Cohort, but Wes doesn’t pay any mind to labels. They’re still figuring out their place in this world of gods and monsters, and being a graceus in Roman territory doesn’t make it any easier.

Para Sample: skipping because I’m eager and you already know Adri soooo ♡

#accepted #Wesley Novak

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angelo-mauro · 5 years

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Midsommar Night’s Eve

“Midsommar”, directed by Ari Aster is a movie where the boundaries of cultural beliefs and morality are questioned as a group of friends take a trip to Sweden to visit one of friends families and culture. The movie opens with an introduction where our main protagonist Dani is trying to help her sister over social media who is obviously struggling with mental health and is on the breaking point. Dani is shown portrayed as this very loving caring character who sees the importance of familial values and her family is near and dear to her heart. The sister never sees Dani's messages reaching out to help her so she ends up killing her parents and herself by suffocating and poisoning all of them by carbon monoxide from the car in the garage. Dani is destroyed by this as should the audience. By relating the dangers of mental health to family the movie shows how something as solvable as mental health can have these disastrous effects in an individual's life. Losing one's parents is as fearful as it gets. The fear of losing something from which you have had since birth is scary for everyone because of the mental tie to them built at birth and over time from accepting and loving it. From this point throughout the movie she joins her boyfriend, Christian, in his trip to Sweden with his college friends. In the group of friends there is obvious discourse between them as Dani wasn't originally invited. Once getting to the small community in Sweden where pellets grew up, everything feels off. A very joyful and peaceful yet minimalist community in the remote location in the woods. Everyone in the community is wearing pure white clothes and all of the buildings being geometric and unique the community doesn't have internet or modern utilities of any sort. Once first meeting some of Pelle's family the group of friends is given a dose of psychedelic mushrooms. Shocked the group has differing reaction from being excited to being extremely nervous but they all end up taking them because of the acceptance and usage of the drug in the community. Dani, emotionally unstable, reluctantly takes the shrooms causing her to panic and run away from her friends scared by the alien and foreign surroundings. Waking up the group gets together and continues with their exploration of of the place. Its midsommar in the community, a traditional celebration every 90 years unique to only this community. This presence of a completely different community leaves the audience and and characters to choose to accept or be fearful. With each of the main friends in the movie they all have different feelings toward this situation of forced assimilation into this community for the week. Curiosity, fear, confusion, ignorance are all emotions expressed by the friend group. Joining the cultist community in their week long celebration much more about the culture is learned by the group and challenged to see if they can accept the extreme differences in the lifestyle here. The group is first challenged with the death of two 72 year old members of the community. Its tradition here for their lives to end at 72 which is done by a ceremony in which they jump off a cliff on to an awaiting rock below surrounded by the rest of the members. How different does the community need to be to be feared and not respected?

The foreign other is a prominent concept of horror film stemming from the generally shared fear of being different or of something extremely different from the norm. In this case similar to many apocalyptic movies our group of college kids is placed in the middle of this completely foreign community where sacrifice is tradition, drugs are required, and you must act your part accordingly with the group. Conformity with tradition vs the individual's choice for what is considered normal creates a fearful dilemma and contentious mood for the movie. Forced to assimilate the group of friends tries to avoid altercations with the community as the results and punishments are unknown and risky. From here on through the movie the friend group is given options to assimilate or fight the culture and die, along with dealing with each of their own personal problems and the relations among the friends themselves. The audience attending the movie is posed this scenario to think about how they would react and so in the scenario. Along with the thematic and interpretive fearful side of the movie, there is still a high amount of accompanied gore and violence as the friends are killed off as they mess up until Dani is left to live with the group as her new family.

Overall this movie instills fear in its audience by putting a group which is easily relatable to in this completely foreign scenario where nothing can be expected or similar. Fear brought from the unknown and enhanced by the moral and ethical problems associated with normal life.

Works Cited

Aster, Ari, director. Misommar. A24, 2019.

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tyrantisterror · 7 years

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Baron Skeleton

I’ve had this idea gestating in my mind for a few years now but I’ve never been able to solidify it beyond a few character ideas, so I’m just going to make a post about it now and see if that helps it coalesce into something more solid.

I really love 80′s cartoon villains - Megatron, Cobra Commander, Skeletor, Mumm-Ra, and all their henchmen. There’s something so delightful about how they were designed to be menacing and theatrical and yet restrained by the standards of the time from ever being a real threat. The idea of a skull faced wizard acting like a rebellious and rowdy eight year old is just inherently endearing.

They’ve kind of gone extinct though. Villains in kids’ shows nowadays tend to be actual threats - even lovable goofs like Adventure Time’s Ice King have some disturbing sides to them. But I pine for those completely toothless villains of yore, whose day ended a few years before I was born and who I knew from reruns and youtube poops. Where have all the Skeletors gone?

So I’ve had this pitch in my head for a sort of throwback to those kinds of villains, and I call it Baron Skeleton after the lead bad guy. Like He-Man and Thundercats, it would be a sort of sci-fi/fantasy mashup without a real identifiable theme, and ideally it would also be designed to be as toyetic as possible - I’d want characters to be intentionally designed to share different body molds ala He-Man figures and Transformers, so that way the theoretical toy company could get as much use out of their toy toolings as possible. I’d also want to keep to story-telling standards of the time - a character whose toy just came out would have one episode where they’re introduced as SUPER important only to become just another character in the show a few episodes later, stuff like that. Ideally the show would be just a little aware of this without being too meta.

The big “twist” of Baron Skeleton would be that we’re focusing on the bad guys rather than the heroes. It’d play on my pet interpretation of 80′s cartoons: that the bad guys are basically theeatrical freaks and geeks, while the good guys are popular kids. I mean, think about it - 80′s cartoons always stress following rules, obeying authority, being super healthy, and just generally conforming to societal expectations. 80′s heroes want you to fit in rather than stand out - and they’re always attractive, straight laced people. 80′s villains, on the other hand, are surly, pouty, antisocial weirdos who come in all sorts of different shapes. They have weird obsessions and weirder fashion sense. It’s basically Goths vs. Preps, and so that would be the overall conflict of Baron Skeleton - antisocial misfits vs. popular comformists.

Our protagonist would be the titular Baron Skeleton, who’s mainly a hybrid of Cobra Commander and Skeletor - i.e. a lanky skeleton man in a vaguely military-ish outfit. Theatrical and prone to wild mood swings, Baron Skeleton leads the (currently unnamed) bad guy faction, although “leads” might be too strong a term. He’s less an iron-fisted dictator and more of a short tempered Kermit the Frog, desperately trying to reign in his volatile henchmen while futilely trying to get his own schemes to work. Like a good villain, he’s too clever by half - i.e. just smart enough to make a truly clever and complex plan, but not smart enough to keep it from falling apart. He’s also somewhat aware of the flaws of his operation, but not enough to actually fix them.

His number 2 would be Snakeman, a large, muscular henchman with a big snake head on an even bigger, beefier humanoid body. Snakeman isn’t particularly invested in the “bad guy” thing, and basically uses Baron Skeleton’s schemes as an excuse to stir shit up and have fun. He often “forgets” (i.e. purposely didn’t listen to) his orders and just makes shit up as he goes along with the hopes of causing as much mischief as possible. Despite his lax attitude, he deeply cares about Baron Skeleton, and genuinely wants his boss to be happy. Though Snakeman is one of the reasons the group’s schemes fail more often than not, he’s also often the person who keeps Baron Skeleton and the others from facing serious consequences, and Baron Skeleton considers him his closest friend.

The rest of the cast is still nebulous in my mind. I’d want there to be one new bad guy (as of the first episode at least) who wants to be an actual villain – i.e. genuinely evil and threatening. This character – let’s call them “Newbie” for now – would be used for exposition in the first season, being the fish out of water who has to be taught how things are run. Baron Skeleton and Snakeman would always shoot down his suggestions of legitimately evil actions, telling him early on that real villains get killed: “You don’t want things to escalate. Once you get serious, the Good Guys get serious too, and that’s when the bodies start piling up. Gotta keep the stakes low if you want to stay in the game long term.” In the first season finale, Newbie would betray Baron Skeleton by finally pulling off a truly evil scheme and framing Baron Skeleton’s group for it, forcing the Bad Guys to prove they’re actually not that bad.

There would have to be a host of other wacky henchmen too. I’d want one Starscream-style perpetual traitor who’s always trying to steal Baron Skeleton’s position only to be forgiven and welcomed back into the fold. There would likewise have to be one slavish loyalist who praises Baron Skeleton’s every action, no matter how stupid or mundane it is. You’d need a mad scientist and/or sorcerer to help make plot devices for the schemes of the week, and maybe a spy-master who’s far too competent to be in Baron Skeleton’s employ but sticks around because they like the low-pressure environment. It’d also be fun to play with Monsters of the Week and legions of faceless henchmen.

Finally, the show would need a hero team to oppose, which is an essential part of this pitch but one I can’t for the life of me figure out. 80’s heroes are nowhere near as interesting to me as 80’s villains, and while I could probably design a hundred different henchmen for Baron Skeleton’s faction, figuring out even a small core team of heroes is agony for me. The closest I’ve come to thinking of a coherent theme for them would be a sports-themed team of heroes – it’s Goths vs. Preps after all.

I also think it might be funny to have the setting be vaguely high school themed, with episodes that take basic high school sitcom tropes – the big dance, career aptitude tests, that sort of shit – and blow them out of proportion so they’re completely fantastical in scale.I had some design sketches for a few of these guys ages ago, but god knows where they went. Maybe I’ll make some more later on – but for now, this is Baron Skeleton.

#Baron Skeleton

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