My thoughts on American Horror Story Season 1 (big spoilers)

My thoughts on American Horror Story Season 1 (big spoilers)

A/N: I wrote this a week ago and saved it. I’ve returned today and finished it up. So, technically I finished season 1 a week ago…I am currently on season 5. LOL!

Hey all! I’ve spent the last two days binge watching American Horror Story season 1 and wanted to write about what I think of the show. For those who haven’t seen AHS, just know you are walking into spoiler zone! There’s no particular organization, I just want to jot down what I’m thinking.

What I loved

  • Characters! Characters! Characters! It is clear the writers have an aptitude for character development. Particularly, writing layers in the character. What I mean is that everything you initially see in the characters are not a tell all. It’s even mentioned frequently by Moira (who’s often clarifying to other characters that they are “finally seeing things for what they really are”).

Let’s use (the most popular and often talked about character) Tate for an example. When we first meet him, he wears sheep skin like it’s a coat (or in his case, a cardigan).


But, really I would wear that cardigan. It looks so comfy! (I’m a cardigan hoarder)

For the most part of the season, he appears to be a (somewhat) seemingly innocent dude and plays himself off as a victimized boy next door. His overall interaction with Violet is gentle and has a romantic fixation for her. Towards the end of the season, it is clear that there is more about Tate that we really don’t know about. I’m not just talking about the murders either. It’s hard to see what part of him is a facade and what part of him is honest. He really chooses carefully what he wants the audience (not just Violet) to see. On that note, although most argue that Tate is impulsive and acts on the spot, I disagree. I think there is more about him that is methodical and that’s why I think he might be (potentially) the most evil character in the season. [I could go on about him, because lets face it. His whole story is fascinating. Maybe I’ll write a post for his character] Even characters that are more minor have so many layers. I.e. Chad, Hayden, even Nora. Some might simply write off characters like Chad, Hayden and Nora as crazy, but I can see that a lot of the choices they made have some reasoning behind what they do.

  • The clues and references often put in to the show are no coincidence either. The most obvious I can think of is Tate’s peculiar taste in music. During the school shooting scene, he is heard walking down the halls and whistling a popular tune that is heard in several Quintin Tarantino films such as “Kill Bill”.  If you do some extra research on the song, you find that it’s originally used in a late 60’s film called “Twisted Nerve”. If you skim through the movie summary, you can deduct that there is more that the writers are trying to say about Tate.
  • Nora, Chad and Hayden want Vivien’s freaky demon baby and you could simply say that they are insane people who have a twisted agenda, but if you dig in their past there is so much more that explains why they are who they are.
zachary quinto.jpeg
YAAAS!!! I will always see Spock when I look at the beloved Zachary Quinto!
  • The actors played their parts beautifully! I hated Hayden, I felt sad for Violet’s depression, rolled my eyes at Ben, and crossed between wanting to jam a knife through Tate or give him a sympathetic pat on the back (but like, from a far distance because there’s no way I could survive an interaction with someone as bent as him).
  • The show really scared the bu-jebus out of me! Something I haven’t felt since season 1 of Supernatural!

What I didn’t love

  • Hmm, not much really. The whole season was really good. There were some parts where the dialogue felt confusing and hard to keep up with. There’s also a lot of names and the characters don’t mention them often enough for me to keep up with. I would reference characters with “that guy” or “the girl who did this” often because I had no idea what their names were.
  • There were some scenes that made me feel uncomfortable to watch, but I guess that’s the point. It wouldn’t be a horror story if I felt okay with every scene I watched. So that’s not really a problem, just a thing I didn’t like.
  • At times, parts of the show could seem slow, but towards the end you get why the writers put those scenes in there.
  • The last episode ended and left me asking more questions. WHYYYYY?!?! Why do you do this to me? How could an amazing show betray me and keep me hooked at the same time?
But like, me after the last episode. My heart was torn up in a million pieces.

Some additional questions

  • How do ghost rules work?
  • Is Violet a witch (just finished coven, lol)
  • Will Constance get what’s coming to her? (probably not)
  • What happened to Tate/Vivien’s monster child?
  • How did Tate make a baby?
  • Why hasn’t anyone else tried?
  • Who has Tate been talking to?
  • Why couldn’t Tate get a boner in the Halloween episode? (And why can’t I find an answer on google)
  • TATE?


(Seriously, that dude’s a work of his own he needs his very own show! “An hour with Tate”)

I’ve been laughing as I typed the last half of my review. I’m just gonna end this saying I loved it, it’s an incredible show. I would recommend this to anyone!




“The Little Black Kitten”: Just something I wrote today!

“The Little Black Kitten”: Just something I wrote today!

A/N Felt like writing another super short story! This time, I had in mind the short story I wrote previously and kinda connected it to what I wrote. I don’t think these two stories are directly connected, just that they belong in the same universe. Maybe a different coven or something. So I had the thought of a black cat in my head and took the story from there. Not really sure how to end it. That’s why it’s sort of open ended and messy. p.s. I have recently been HOOKED on “American Horror Story”. For those fans out there, can you feel how heavily influenced this writing is? LOL I’m sorry, I couldn’t help but think of “Coven” as I was writing this. *sigh* Please someone stop my AHS vibe frenzy!

The Little Black Kitten

Written by: ravenclawatheart


Angela scooped up the little black kitten curled up against a tree and scratched its neck. She searches the cat hoping to find a collar or some form of identification, but the only thing she could find was its gender, male. She roughly holds the kitten up to her nose by the scruff of its neck and looks into his green eyes. The kitten softly bats her face with it’s paw.

Perhaps Angela is imagining it, but she notices there is something odd about this kitten. He hardly reacted when she picked him up.

“Why would a little thing like you be sitting alone in a forest? A tiny fur ball like you could get swallowed up by a hawk!”

The kitten squints his eyes and hisses at Angela. She begins to lose her grip as he starts squirming in her hands. Before Angela could tighten her grip, the kitten springs out of her hands and dashes farther in the woods. She watches the kitten sprint away and decides not to chase it. She never liked cats for this reason! They’re unpredictable and scratch up the first thing they can find. The kitten stops in his tracks and turns around, it’s green eyes peering at her. It seems like he is almost beckoning her to follow him.

Strangest kitten I’ve ever seen. Does he want me to follow him? She asks herself.

Angela puts one foot in front of her and watches the kitten’s reaction. The kitten slowly turns his head back and walks deeper into the forest. Angela mirrors the kitten’s steps, keeping a fifty-foot distance between her and the kitten. Occasionally the kitten would stop and turn around to stare at her. He wouldn’t resume until he sees Angela makes a step closer towards him. To Angela, it felt like a game of “follow the leader”. Like how she used to play with Jade when they were kids. One would lead the way, and the other had to copy the other person’s exact movement. There wasn’t ever a winner, just an excuse to be bossy to the other.

Five minutes have passed and Angela is feeling bored. She can’t explain why she’s following the kitten. Just that it sounded like a good idea when she started. She begins to turn around and head back when she hears the kitten dart over and stop her in her path. The kitten slits his green eyes in front of Angela and gives a silent warning of disapproval.

Angela sighs in defeat, “Okay, a cat is holding me hostage! I can have a sense of humor.” She shouts to the sky. The kitten stalks back to his path and waits for Angela to follow. She really has no idea how such a small thing is compelling her to do what is probably, the dumbest thing ever.

Maybe he’s looking for an excuse to be bossy? She laughs to herself.

Angela keeps her distance between the kitten and resumes following him. Clearly, this kitten knows what he’s doing and this isn’t a coincidence. How can it be? What kind of cat asks someone to follow it in a forest? She only hopes that whatever it is he wants to show her, it better be good! It would be a waste of time for her to follow one of her least favorite animals.

After several more minutes of walking, she starts talking to the kitten. If this day couldn’t be weird enough, what’s one more crazy thing to do then talk to a cat?

“If I didn’t know any better, I would think you are taking me somewhere. To my death? It would be ironic considering I hate cats!” The kitten’s tail twitches. Angela couldn’t help but wonder if the kitten were human, it would seem like he flinched. As if her remark offended him. Angela waits to see if the kitten will turn around and react, but he only continues walking.

Can you hurt a cat’s feelings? She can’t help but feel like she should apologize to the kitten. She decides that apologizing to a cat would be an absolute confirmation that she’s crazier than she thinks. At this point, her sanity is the only thing she has left. Angela opens her mouth, ready to make a comment on her own sanity when she notices the trees are appearing more sparse and opening up further ahead. She picks up her pace and heads toward the opening. The kitten picks up his pace as well and heads into the clearing.

Angela’s eyes widen when she sees what’s in front of her. A waterfall like she has never seen before. The water is the clearest blue she has ever seen accompanied by a ribbon of colors mixed inside the river. Angela frowns when she notices how quiet the waterfall sounds. How can a waterfall be so quiet? She should have heard it earlier when she was walking. She looks up ahead to find a meadow with unfamiliar and fragrant wildflowers scattered everywhere. The kitten stands two feet in front of Angela and gives that same piercing gaze, giving another silent request to follow him once more.

The kitten turns left and heads toward a building several hundred feet away she didn’t notice earlier. It seems out of place compared to what she saw earlier. The walls are made of bright red terracotta. Something you would find in Arizona, not in the middle of a lush and dense forest. The shape of the building is something she’s never seen before either. It appears to be a blend of an old fashioned Victorian home and a miniature castle. It has a matching red porch wrapped around the estate with two towers poking out. The tallest tower is open at the top so that someone can look out and view the open forest. The property appears to be maintained as well. Angela notices some of the exotic flowers she found in the meadow decorating the lawn.

The kitten dashes towards the house and perches himself on the porch, looking as if he belongs to this odd home. Before Angela could stop to turn around and head in the opposite direction, the door opens. A girl about Angela’s age and appears tall with tan skin and short dark brown hair. She walks out the door and sits on the staircase. She leans back on her elbows and gazes up at the sky, unaware of Angela frozen several hundred feet away in front of her. The girl closes her eyes, exhales and turns her head up. When she opens her eyes, she screams.

Angela’s heart freezes as she holds back a scream in response. The girl bolts up and backs herself toward the door.

“Who are you? What do you want from us? Ms. Penelope!” She screams. The girl reaches towards the doorknob when the black kitten hisses at her. The kitten approaches the girl and paws at her leg. The girl pauses and goes silent, gazing at the hissing kitten.

“I’m sorry!” Angela responds. The girl remains still, gazing at the cat. Angela continues, “I found this kitten out back on the road. He wanted me to follow him. I thought maybe he was lost or something. Is he your kitten?”

The girls face softens and faintly smiles. “No.” She quietly responds and laughs. “He’s yours!”

Angela’s jaw drops. Was this girl even listening to her? “No, he isn’t. I already told you I found him.” The girl turns to Angela and purses her lips in confusion.

The girl says each word slowly and with care. “Don’t you know what he is?”

“A cat?” Angela responds bluntly.

The girl shakes her head in disbelief and repeats herself, adding more emphasis. “Yeah, but don’t you know what he is?”

Angela remains silent, considering if the girl is asking some trick question. “Umm…No?”

The girl exhales and rolls her eyes in annoyance. “Your familiar.” She responds to Angela with a condescending tone as if Angela just asked her how to spell “rat”.

When Angela remains silent, the girl realizes that Angela really has no clue what she’s talking about. Suddenly, the front door opens and an older woman steps out. She’s shorter than the girl, yet appears to tower above her with her confident poise. She has long, curly black hair and a peachy complexion with freckles peppered across her upturned nose.

“Sierra, what are you yelling about? You nearly woke up the entire coven!” The woman turns and gasps when she notices Angela. “What’s going on?”

Sierra’s eyes widen. “Ms. Penelope! I-it’s this girl. She just came to our house with her familiar, but she doesn’t know what I’m talking about. I was trying to-” Ms. Penelope cuts her off.

“It’s alright Sierra, I’ll take it from here. Go back inside.” She responds calmly. Sierra obeys and heads back in the house. Ms. Penelope notices the black kitten rubbing against her leg and picks him up. She turns her attention to Angela and smiles at her. “Hello.”

Angela feels an almost calming sensation overtake her and all of her previous anxiety slowly fades away. She responds, echoing Ms. Penelope’s calming tone. “Hello.”

“I’m sorry if Sierra scared you. It’s been a long time since a newcomer has approached our coven. I assume you are very confused, and perhaps scared.” She responds sweetly.

Angela nods. “Y-yes mam.”

“What’s your name?” She asks.


Ms. Penelope hums softly. “Angela, my name is Ms. Penelope. Welcome to my coven, Elizabeth Academy. A school for girls with unique abilities such as yours!”

“Unique?” Angela frowns.

“This kitten.” She answers, “Is your familiar. A definite sign that you are something special. Finding this academy is a remarkable talent on its own, but this kitten is clearly linked to you. There is no doubt you were meant to be here.”

Angela’s heart sinks when she realizes something Ms. Penelope said earlier. “I’m sorry, did you just say coven?”

Ms. Penelope gives a comforting smile. “I think you should come inside and let me explain. We have a lot to cover.” Angela tenses up, feeling uncertain with the woman’s offer. Ms. Penelope opens the door and gives a knowing look to what Angela is thinking. “For what it’s worth. You made it this far. What’s one more crazy thing to do?”

Angela’s eyes widen when she hears the woman’s response. Can she hear my thoughts? Ms. Penelope gives a soft laugh. “Why don’t you come inside and find out for yourself?”

After a moment of consideration, curiosity got the best of Angela and she follows behind the strange mind reading woman. “I really hate cats.” She mumbles to herself as Ms. Penelope snickers in front of her. Angela groans.

What’s one more crazy thing indeed!








When life gets you down, WRITE! (Another short story)

When life gets you down, WRITE! (Another short story)

A/N: Whoa, another story? Yup, I’ve been feeling pretty down today so I wanted to write my pain away. I can’t say if this is a regular thing or not. Just that I can’t let myself feel so down all the time. Plus, I need to keep writing if I want to get any better at it. Anyhow, here’s another-but unrelated to the previous-short story. With this one, I just shot out the first sentence in my head and carried on with what to write next. I got pretty far with this one. I kinda like the idea I created too.

Some magical drabble


“It’s not uncommon to feel scared. Especially if it’s your first time.” Jordan smirks and raises her eyebrows. While offering a fake look of sympathy she pats Gabrielle on the shoulders. Gabrielle snatches her shoulder back and gives a defiant look to her elder.

“I never said I was afraid!” she scoffs. Gabrielle shakes back her blonde hair and crosses her arms. She continues, “I’m just amazed that someone like you would even consider this to be scary. Have something to hide there? I mean just because you were scared, doesn’t mean everyone else would be.” Gabrielle turns to face the rest of the coven as they snicker behind Jordan’s back. Jordan’s face falls flat when she overhears Molly whisper something to her elder. She straightens her posture, and purses her lips. Determined not to show any weakness to the rest of the group.

“I’m just trying to look out for you.” She retorts

Gabrielle resists the urge to roll her eyes, “Riiight. Just like how you left me in the mountains last week. How could you look out for me when you were all the way at the bottom of the mountain!” Jordan opens her mouth to respond when Miss Karen waves her hand at Jordan and silences her.

“Whenever you’re ready Gabrielle.” She offers a sweet and encouraging smile.

Gabrielle walks straight to the pot and grabs the knife. While muttering an incantation she firmly grips the dagger in front of her and slashes her hand while watching the blood pool around her cut and slowly trickle down into the simmering pot of potion. She peers down to watch the potion slowly transform from blue with a faint fragrance of lavender and berries to a vibrant shade of purple and a subtle hint of a metallic smell. The potion begins to radiate a soft glow; Gabrielle pulls her hand away from the pot and turns off the burner. Without any hesitation, she blows on her cut hand and watch the skin reattach. With a satisfied smile, she pours the potion into a vile to present to the coven.

She turns her attention to the coven to find everyone gaping at her. Gabrielle’s eyes widen and she frowns.

“What? Did I do it wrong?” She grips the vile closer to her chest.

Miss Karen steps forward. “No sweetheart. It wasn’t that. It’s just…” She pauses, wondering how to word it to Gabrielle.

“How’d you do that without reading the book!” Molly interrupts.

“Yeah, first years can’t complete that without even a glance at the book.” Another girl adds. Almost all at once, everyone starts muttering and throwing one question after another.

“Did she cheat?”

“No you dimwit, you can’t cheat a potion! She must be possessed.”

“I don’t hear a hum! A telepath must be telling her what to do.”

“Who would want to do that? Besides, only Jordan can do that.”

Everyone’s attention turns to Jordan who’s still trying to process what she’s seen. Miss Karen turns to Jordan and asks, “Jordan, did you help Gabrielle with the potion?” Jordan’s eyes widen and she stands defensively.

“No! Why would I want to help her?”

Molly frowns. “You did say you were looking after her.” The coven almost nods in unison.

Jordan shakes her head. “I wasn’t going to cheat for her. Maybe give her a pep talk but not tell her what to do.” She snaps. “Miss Karen, you know I wouldn’t do that. I’m a hard working student and cheating would tarnish my reputation.”

Miss Karen nods her head. “I know Jordan, I trust you.” She reassures her. Miss Karen turns to Gabrielle. “But how did you know what to do Gabrielle?”

Gabrielle’s heart races and her ears burn when she finds everyone’s attention facing her. She begins speaking so fast, she can barely think about what she’s saying. “I-it just came to me. Like I knew what I had to say. I didn’t really give it much thought. I’m sorry, I didn’t know that would be a problem.” She winces, waiting for Miss Karen to scold her or worse, send her away. Gabrielle can feel pulses of fear emitting from some of the witches. Who could possibly want a witch with such a freakish ability? She glances at the younger witches and sees them bunching up closer to one another, ready to flee if needed.

“You’re not in trouble Gabrielle and we wouldn’t expel someone with an ability like yours.” Miss Karen answers. “We teach lots of girls with different abilities, and yours is no different. It’s, unusual, but not different from what we’ve seen. I’ll have a word with the committee and see if we can modify the exam for you.” Before Gabrielle could thank her, she darts out of the tent.

The tension in the tent immediately diffuses when Illiana breaks away from the group and faces Jordan. She laughs. “Well, look who’s the elder now Jordy! It’s her first test and Gabrielle’s already surpassed you.” She sneers. “She really knocked you into your place. It’s comical when you think of it.” She turns her attention to Gabrielle and claps. “I applaud you, newbie. Really, it’s about time someone stops Jordan dead in her tracks.”

The rest of the coven explodes with noise and everyone immediately begins muttering to one another.

Gabrielle winces and fidgets nervously with her vile. She really wishes everyone would stop talking about her. She peers over to Jordan to find her clenching her teeth and scowling at her classmate Illiana.

Why can’t we get along like Molly does with her elder? She asks herself.

Immediately, Jordan shoots her gaze to Gabrielle and throws a cold stare.

You know why! She mentally hisses a fiery response to her sister.

If I could run away. (short story)

If I could run away. (short story)

A/N: I just wrote this (like five minutes ago). Usually when I have to go back to school, I panic and start feeling depressed/anxiety. Anyway, this panic attack isn’t anything new and usually I just ride it out and let it pass. Today though, I did something different. I wrote down what I was feeling and wrote a fantasy solution. Here it is. My solution! As you can see, I made up a name but I was thinking of myself while writing this piece. I don’t think this is going anywhere so I thought I would share it here and let someone else (other than me) see it. I hope you like it. I felt better after writing this. 🙂

If I could run away


Naomi doesn’t remember when she got back. It didn’t matter anyhow. Her mind was on one thing alone. Leaving. Leaving everything behind. Today she was going to do it with no fear or regret. She packs her bags with confidence and poise (if that was ever possible). She folds her t-shirts like they’re made of a powerful armor. Her pen is her sword and her books are her shields. She places them in the suitcase knowing that they will not fail her. She slips on her boots with the understanding that they will stand strong no matter what terrain she treads. Naomi walks over to her door and unhooks her jacket. She holds it in front of herself and looks at it like it is something she’s never seen before. She purses her lips and winces at it. This jacket doesn’t suit her anymore. It’s a puffy black winter jacket. It’s warm, soft but ironically impractical. It represents a life she doesn’t want to live anymore. It speaks of a life with safety and repetition.

She throws the jacket on the ground and goes downstairs to the basement. After ruffling through several piles of clothes in her storage closet, she’s found it. To most, it looks costume-y and something nobody today would dare to wear in public. At one point, Naomi felt the same way of the garment. She bought it on a whim at an art sale one day and wears it only to conventions, role-play games or costume parties. It didn’t have any meaning to her at the time. It was just a costume. Another piece of fabric to layer over and pretend to be something you don’t have the balls to truly embody. At this moment, Naomi doesn’t see it that way anymore. It’s the perfect fit. It’s a dark green cloak that reaches the middle of her calves and a sparkling emerald gem decorates the clasp of the cloak. She swings it around her shoulders and fastens the clasp. Without any hesitation, she faces the mirror and looks at herself. She holds her gaze for a while and takes in every detail of herself. She exhales in relief when she realizes she doesn’t recognize her reflection. She has worn this cloak several times and remembers how it would fit. This time, it feels somewhat different. As if she finally grew into it. Her dark hair perfectly frames the cloak and curls against the wool fabric. Her face appears softer and her frame looks almost taller. She eyes the plastic gem glittering in the reflection. She counts how many times it flashes in the mirror and can’t help but wonder if it’s trying to speak to her. She imagines it is offering words of reassurance.

Yes, this is what you are meant to be. The world you are choosing to walk in promises you will have fulfillment and a sense of purpose. I don’t have to tell you to go follow this instinct, because I know you will take it.

Naomi smiles and quietly thanks the sparkling emerald for its support. She heads up the stairs and grabs her suitcase. Everything feels perfect, just as she imagined it would happen in her head. With her head up high, she opens her front door and steps out without a pause of uncertainty. She doesn’t turn around when she closes the door. There’s nothing left to look at behind her. Naomi holds her pride, looks forward and follows the sunrise. She knows this same sunrise will lead her to the said promise of fulfillment and purpose. Naomi quickens her pace and melts in the air.