#And that bleeds into his other interactions but not nearly as strongly as it does with evan

[kazuwhora]

— CHAPTER SIXTEEN: VIOLET RAYS

synopsis. kazutora battles with his nerves in an attempt to bring you deeper into his world the only way he knows how. he may not be the best, but he’ll sure try.

cw. fem!reader, college!au, little bit of angst and emotion

wc. 1.3k

note. spaceboy is back! I’ve been having a hard time finding the motivation to pick this back up with the lack of interaction/feedback on this series, but my love for kazutora comes first <3 after a much needed hiatus from this series, I’ve decided to switch to present tense from now on so if you’re coming straight from previous chapters, you’ll probably notice it more! again, feedback and comments are what keeps this series going and are very appreciated <3 enjoy!

SPACEBOY MASTERLIST && SPACEBOY TAGLIST

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maybe you weren’t that bad afterall.

the thought pools in chifuyu’s mind like still water— calm, and disturbed only by inklings of wind that ripple across the surface in tiny waves. he ponders the thought, dwelling on the tranquil water as he slips into the office to be alone with his thoughts.

chifuyu has never been one for conflict— everything he’s done, he did to protect kazutora.

but, why? why was it that this knot that had formed in the pit of his stomach only grew tighter and tighter with every passing thought of the two of you alone? why was it that he allowed himself to be so bothered, by something that should have brought him joy? he had been with kazutora for years now, always by his side, supporting him the only way he knew how. and as time had passed, he found himself lost in his feelings that only seemed to grow deeper and more intricate with each passing day. the thought of kazutora’s walls coming down for anyone but him made his skin itch— it made his heart sink and his head spin all at once in a flurry of feelings and thoughts he couldn’t quite decipher.

chifuyu struggles to close the door behind him as he leaves— the click of the latch that echoes through the air around him feels as if he were closing a door to his heart, and locking kazutora away forever. he feels that if he turns his back here, there’s no returning— like it’s the end. but even so, the feelings pull at the strings of his mind, each one getting tighter and tighter in a network of webbed emotions that spin and overlap each other— fighting, contrasting, and challenging one another in their own whirlpool of frustration.

his relationship with kazutora is no more than a mere friendship, so why does he feel so strongly about your presence in his life? if kazutora was nothing beyond his friend, why does he feel nearly sick to his stomach as he sits in his car, surrounded with empty silence that drains his soul of energy? chifuyu doesn’t want to think. he wants to turn his feelings off— to tough it out until he’s home, but his lip quivers as the knot in his mind finally snaps and the chords of his emotion unravel and bleed through the tears that drip down his cheeks.

and there he stays— alone in his thoughts that he will never allow kazutora to see.

————————————————————————————

“whats his deal?” you ask, sighing off the tension that had steadily built in the room. with chifuyu’s presence gone, your shoulders fall, and your body relaxes where you lean against the wall.

“dunno” kazutora shrugs, putting the cats back in their cage as he follows your lead and leans back on the counter beside you. “we’ve been through a lot” he continues, rubbing the sides of his arms as he speaks.

part of you wants to pry— to slip details past his lips, but your conscience holds you back and keeps your lips pressed together. pushing him too far, or pushing at all is something that came far too easy for you.

“is he jealous?” you hum, not thinking about the words or the connotation that comes with them.

kazutora’s face flushes a deep shade of red— just like the first time you met, and he stumbles to find the words to shoot you down.

“j-jealous?” he huffs, fumbling with his fingers as he shakes his head just enough for silky strands of blonde hair to hide the blush on his face. “jealous of what?”

“I dunno, jealous that you’re not spending as much time with him?”

you can tell you’ve pulled on the wrong string when kazutora’s fluster turns to a frown. the emotions that twist in his mind are practically unreadable, even for him. jealousy was never an emotion he had plastered to anyone else before. no— it had always been him that was ridden with jealousy. him that was ridden with resentment and bitterness for the friendship that baji had cherished with chifuyu. jealousy was kazutora’s emotion. he owned it— not chifuyu, and imagining the burden of jealousy hung on chifuyu’s shoulders at the hands of himself makes him sick with hatred for his actions and resentment towards himself.

“tora?” you ask, pulling him from his thoughts as you watch the way his body tenses with every second. “I’m sorry I—”

“it’s not jealousy” kazutora mumbles, pushing himself off the counter as he carries himself to the opposite side of the store. “it’s—” he stops, unsure of where he was going with his own words. “it’s nothing”

tension quickly returns to the room as kazutora’s gaze stays trained to the floor. part of you feels guilty for letting the word slip, but the other part can’t help but wonder what kazutora is hiding behind his eyes— the feelings he so easily pushes far away in his mind.

you consider changing the subject— offering to go home, or do anything to ease the mood that settles in the air now, until kazutora breathes a deep sigh and returns to your side. his face is calm and warm now, but his eyes still hold an inkling of anxiety as he gives you a soft smile that could make you melt.

“I’m sorry” he speaks under his breath. “chifuyu has been there for me through everything and—”

you squeeze your eyes shut before cutting him off- “it’s okay, don’t worry about it”

kazutora stops, watching the way your face scrunches with discomfort and he sighs. he feels like he’s done it again— like he’s messed up the only thing he’s ever tried for— like he’s made you uncomfortable and there’s no turning back. spiraling has always been his strong suit, and it takes every ounce of effort within his conscience to keep himself from running away.

he wants you. he wants to see you happy— to make you happy. but he doesn’t know how. all the thoughts of chifuyu and the emotions that weigh heavy on his soul with these changes in kazutora’s life make him wonder if he’s ever been able to make anyone happy. all he’s ever done in his life is hurt people— push people away— take everything from those around him. kazutora can only recall the pain he’s brought on those around him, and the fear of hurting you— of hurting chifuyu, settles in his chest the more he dwells on his thoughts. even the brush of your hand against his shoulder isn’t enough to tear him away as he drowns in hopelessness that comes with his presence alone.

“hey” you tug at his shirt, pulling his arm as you watch his eyes zone out into the ground below you. they’re glossy and wide— almost scared, and you wonder if this is the real kazutora. the kazutora you’ve been digging to find all along— raw, and burdened with his emotions. the kazutora you want to fix.

“come” you pull him away from the counter, ignoring his lack of presence in the moment as you drag him back to the cage of kittens he had introduced you to earlier.

he moves like a doll as you sit him down on the floor in front of the cage, and it isn’t until his arms are filled with the softness of the calico he had cooed over earlier that his mind is finally pulled from the depths of his self hatred. now, he’s focused on the cat as a meek smile rests on his lips. the kitten purrs into his arms as he strokes her, and you watch as he looks back up at you with softened eyes.

“princess is my favourite” he grins, mole creasing at his eyes with his growing smile.

just like that, all his anguish dissipates into the atmosphere and returns to the stars where it dwells, as kazutora’s warmth fills the room once again.

if there was one thing you had set your mind to, it was learning the ways of kazutora’s mind, and finding the scattered pieces of his puzzle in the stars.

[be11atrixthestrange]

The Loft Chapter 4

After a bad break-up, Hermione Granger moves into a messy and dysfunctional loft with four single men. What starts as a temporary home until she gets back on her feet becomes so much more, as she learns there's a lot of life - and love - that happens at rock-bottom.

Inspired by the TV Series ‘New Girl’

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Also on A03 | FFN

More Chapters

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Chapter 4

[Ron]

Ron would best describe the loft as a mess, but a clean one. After hours of scrubbing, the windows are clear and smudge-free, and the concrete floor shimmers with its long-forgotten natural color. What makes him feel most at home, however, is not the fresh pine scent of the couch cushions, but the fact that they're strewn about the floor like plush stepping stones. The boys have arranged them around the trash can in the middle of the room, which is empty save for a dried-up bottle of Febreeze.

Ron's desperate to know Hermione's opinion on the new decor. Despite lifting an eyebrow at the bad doodles of United States presidents and the cardboard cutout of a bald eagle plastered to the wall, she doesn't say anything. She must know better than to think he'll offer an explanation.

After cleaning and decorating the loft, Neville, Seamus, and Harry dispersed into their rooms to make themselves presentable, leaving Ron and Hermione alone in the kitchen to finish up the last of the dishes. He hands her a plate to dry, and she takes it with a smile.

"Thank you for helping, Hermione."

"Of course! But I'm not sure why we're cleaning so much if it's just going to get trashed."

Trashed might be an exaggeration, but she's right in the sense that the new cleanliness of the loft isn't going to last very long. Tonight they're throwing a party, Hermione's first as a loft resident, and she's in for a treat. The boys have been purposely vague regarding loft parties, as any accurate descriptions might turn her off attending. Ron would hate to have her make other plans tonight, whether those be with the girls, or worse, a date.

"Hey, we're not animals. But if it's going to get trashed, it's nice to know it's new-trashed, not old-trashed," he says, earning an eye-roll from Hermione.

"So I'm guessing that this party is America-themed?"

"No. Why would you guess that?"

"No reason," she says, eyeing the miniature blow-up Uncle Sam doll that the boys have been tossing around like a basketball.

"The decorations are just for the drinking game we're going to play," he says, motioning to the multiple cases of PBR lining the wall.

"Right, how do you play?"

"It's not really a game you can explain. You just have to experience it. Nice try, though."

"Then I look forward to experiencing it." She finishes drying the last dish and stacks it away neatly in the cupboard. "What else do we need to set up? Everyone's coming at eight, right?

Ron checks his watch. "Shit, you're right. People should be here soon. I'm going to get ready. Can you start on the beer castle?"

"The beer castle?"

"Yeah. Just stack beer cans in a castle shape around the trash can in the living room."

Ron doesn't wait for Hermione's reaction before he slips back into his room. He rummages around his closet in search of something to wear, something that makes him look both put-together and laid back, ready to party. He lands on a pair of khaki shorts and a pastel blue t-shirt that looks quite nice with his eyes.

He's pretty sure Hermione hasn't seen him in it. Not that it matters, anyway.

He pulls off his shirt and catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Surprisingly, he looks pretty damn good. He's a bit skinny but firm and fit. It comes as a pleasant surprise because he's been slacking on his workouts ever since Hermione moved in and he lost his home gym. It's been difficult to exercise in his tiny bedroom, so he doesn't. He hasn't wanted to work out in the living room for fear of Hermione seeing him, but maybe he should give that a try…

With a shrug, Ron pulls off his pants and stands back up. He can't resist the urge to take another look at himself in the mirror. As much as he wishes he was a bit more muscular, there are pros to being lanky. By comparison, his scrawny self really does accentuate his already well-endowed state.

He checks himself out from a few more angles before deciding that physically, he doesn't have much to complain about.

Before he has the chance to put on his pants, the door to his bedroom swings open. Ron startles when it crashes against the wall and Hermione barges in uninvited.

"Hey Ron, I have a question about the beer can castle—"

"Hermione!" Ron, completely naked, scrambles for something to cover himself with but doesn't have time before she's standing right in front of him. "You have to knock!"

She's staring at the two cans in her hands until she pauses and looks up, but her gaze never makes it to his face. Instead, it lands directly on his penis, and she seems to stare at it for an eternity. Thanks to his utter panic, Ron can't move.

It almost feels like time has stopped, and he's frozen there like the statue of David while Hermione ogles him. She appears to be frozen too, eyes wide, mouth agape, staring.

If his dick could blush, it would match the color of his ears, which are bleeding scarlet.

For a split second, he wonders if it's truly as bad as it seems. Maybe Hermione likes what she sees. A tiny seed of hope takes root.

But that hope shatters when she opens her mouth to speak and lets out the worst sound he's ever heard. It's somewhere between a scream and a giggle, and he wouldn't wish such a reaction on his worst enemy.

Without further ado, a red-faced Hermione mutters a quick and useless 'sorry' and rushes out the door and slams it behind her.

Ron stands there for a few seconds, dumbfounded, before the reality of what just happened crashes down.

Hermione just laughed at his dick.

Well, fuck.

Now that he knows how she really feels, he'll never be able to look her in the eye again.

Ron stays in his room until there's a knock on the loft's door, and he has to show his face in order to let in his guests. He's opted for a hoodie over his shirt so he can hide behind the hood whenever Hermione looks at him, because when she does, his neck prickles with heatwaves, and he feels like he's naked again.

It doesn't make sense — Ron's never reacted so strongly to having a woman see him naked, and he's had a decent amount of experience in that arena. He's no Seamus, of course, but he's not a stranger to the occasional hookup.

It's just because she laughed—no other reason.

He opens the door to find his sister Ginny, her roommate Demelza, and two of their mutual friends—Dean and Luna.

"Welcome," says Ron, opening the door.

"Hey, Ron!" says Ginny. "Hermione!"

Ginny crashes into Hermione for a hug, then introduces her to everyone else. "This is Hermione, Ron's new roommate."

"Nice to meet you all!"

Hermione falls into easy conversation with Ron's friends before they get a chance to greet him, but they don't seem bothered by it. He watches her through narrowed eyes and doesn't even realize he's glaring at her until she looks at him and scowls.

"What?"

"Nothing." He turns back toward his friends, hoping they didn't notice their interaction. "Make yourselves at home. Drinks in the fridge, food on the counter, and you know where the beer is," he says, pointing at the beer castle.

Harry turns the music up just as their guests crack open their beers, and everyone starts to relax. Except for Ron, of course. Even though he's hyper-aware of Hermione, he still manages to bump into her and make more frequent eye contact than he'd like.

For some reason, they seem to gravitate toward the kitchen to replenish food and drinks at the same time, and they barely manage a conversation when they run into each other.

"Oh, sorry," she says, trying to slide past him, only for him to walk directly into her in an attempt to get out of her way.

"Erm—"

"I'll go left; you go right."

"Yeah, okay."

Are they always this awkward around each other?

Every time he tries to act normal, all he can hear is her weird little high-pitched scream-laugh, and he just wants to disappear into his hoodie. On occasion, Ron can sense Hermione watching him, but she looks away whenever he tries to catch her gaze. Not that he wants to make awkward eye contact with her, he just wants her to leave him alone.

He continues to keep himself at a safe distance to avoid talking to her, making sure he's always involved in a conversation with someone else. Over the course of the party, he becomes progressively more resentful of how much mental space it requires to avoid her.

Then, like a hawk, she swoops in and catches him alone while he's in the kitchen grabbing another beer.

"Ron!"

"Jesus," he says, nearly crashing into her. "You scared me."

"Why are you being so weird?"

"I'm not."

"Is it because I saw you naked?"

"No."

"It's not a big deal, Ron."

Of course, she has the nerve to act like he's the one who's being childish.

"Oh yeah, Hermione?" he says. "Then why did you laugh? Too immature?"

Hermione opens her mouth to answer, but in the moment before she does, he turns away from her and shouts to the crowd, "Who's ready for True American?"

The loft whoops their approval and begins to gather in the living room.

"Right now?" whispers Hermione behind him. "We're still talking."

But he ignores her.

"The game is True American," shouts Ron at a volume much louder than necessary for the size of the room. "Say 'aye' if you've played before."

There's a chorus of 'ayes' and a room-wide scrambling toward the furniture. When everyone hops onto a cushion, a table, or a chair, Ron notices Hermione looking around frantically, her expression disheartened.

"I'm the only one who's never played?" she asks.

"It's okay, Hermione," says Harry. "All you need to know is that it's about fifty percent drinking, fifty percent life-size Candy Land."

"I'd argue that it's seventy-five percent drinking, twenty percent Candy Land, and the floor is lava," says Ginny. "Which is why we're standing on the furniture. Hermione, you're melting."

"Oh no," she says, hopping up onto the coffee table between the beer castle and Demelza, who extends a hand to help her.

"Honestly, guys, it's ninety-percent drinking and has a very loose Candy Land-like structure to it," says Neville. "There's also a truth or dare component."

"I just need to know how to play—"

"You're smart; you'll catch on," says Ron. His tone comes off a little more terse than he'd intended, so he quickly continues, "I'll start. JFK!"

"FDR!"

Everyone but Hermione shuffles to a new location, avoiding the lava floor, and Hermione is left standing in her same spot between the beer castle and now, Luna.

"What just happened?" she asks, looking confused.

"Hermione, since you're the last to find a new spot, you have to pick someone, and they'll ask you a truth or dare question," explains Ginny. "Just answer and drink."

"Okay, then," she says. "Um, Neville. Truth."

"How do you like loft life?" asks Neville brightly, eliciting a groan from the crowd.

"Neville, you can do better—" starts Seamus.

"It's her first game!" he says. "Let's ease her in. So, Hermione?"

"Well, it's great so far."

"Just so you know, not every question will be that tame," says Ginny from her precarious perch on the armchair.

"Go figure," says Hermione before chugging back a gulp of her PBR.

As soon as she swallows her drink, Neville shouts out, "The only thing we have to fear is…"

"Fear itself!"

When the crowd joins in, Hermione looks around the room, dumbfounded.

"Hermione, you didn't complete the quote," says Harry.

"I didn't know I was supposed to!"

"Well, now you do! Drink, and then pick someone."

"I feel like I'm at a disadvantage since you didn't explain the game," she says, challenging Harry.

"We've all been there," Harry says, shrugging, "It's a rite of passage."

"Fine," Hermione takes a long swig and points at Ginny. "Ginny, truth."

"Sweet!" says Ginny, beaming mischievously. "Hermione, are you attracted to anyone in the loft?"

Ron's ears tingle at Ginny's question, and he tunes in for Hermione's answer.

"Nope," she says, taking a hasty drink.

In his curiosity, Ron has made prolonged eye contact with Hermione for the first time since the penis-incident, but when she catches his gaze, he quickly looks away. Ron's stomach clenches. Not that he wants Hermione to be attracted to him, but after she saw him naked, it's quite the low blow. Trying to look casual, he pulls back a swig of beer.

"Really?" presses Seamus. "None of us?"

"Ginny's turn!" says Hermione, ignoring Seamus' question.

"Alright, here we go," says Ginny, her eyes narrowed in concentration. "Abe Lincoln! George Washington!"

"Cherry Tree!" shouts Ron.

"Correct! Pick a person and an amendment!"

"Hermione, second."

Everyone looks at Hermione, and Ginny tosses her an unopened can of beer.

"I don't understand," she says. "You still haven't given me any information."

"You have to shotgun a beer! And then pick someone to ask truth or dare," says Dean.

"Wait, what? That doesn't make any sense."

"Give it time, Hermione," encourages Neville. "I didn't understand it at first either."

Hermione groans and sets down her half-full PBR, and reaches into her pocket for her key. She stabs the bottom of her can, then tips it into her mouth, chugging it down while the loft's onlookers cheer in the background.

Eyebrows raised, Ron watches her shotgun her beer, trying to ignore the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He never thought he'd see that, and he isn't complaining.

"Yeah, there's no going back now," says Hermione once she finishes. "Luna, truth."

"Yay!" says Luna. "Did you and Ron get into a fight? You've been avoiding each other all night."

Ron's face grows hot. He bores his gaze toward Luna, who is staring intently at Hermione and doesn't seem to notice Ron's glare.

"Is that really your question?" she asks.

"Yep!"

"Luna, you've never seen us interact," says Ron. "How would you know that?"

Luna shrugs. "I can just tell."

"You know what," says Harry as he looks between Ron and Hermione. "You two have been acting weird tonight."

"Is it that obvious?" asks Hermione.

Ron feels Hermione's eyes on him, and his palms break out in a sweat. Once again, his refusal to make direct eye contact probably serves as a sufficient answer to Hermione's question.

"Well, fine then," she says, turning back toward Luna. "Earlier, I walked in on him changing. But it wasn't a big deal."

"Ron, is this true?" asks Harry.

Everyone turns to look at Ron, who groans. "Yes, but as she said, it wasn't a big deal."

His roommates might as well be shining an interrogation light on him by the way they all continue to stare.

"If it wasn't a big deal, why are you all fidgety?" asks Seamus.

"I'm not," says Ron, but his defensive tone suggests otherwise.

"Yeah, women have seen you naked before, Ron," says Luna. "Why is it different with Hermione?"

"Whose turn is it?" says Ron, much louder than necessary. Anything to divert the attention from Luna's oddly specific question.

"Oh, it's my turn," says Luna. "One, two, three, go!"

Luna holds up the number five to her forehead, and everyone else follows suit with their own number. Ron looks frantically around the room and breathes a sigh of relief when he matches numbers with Harry.

It appears that Hermione, who was the last to catch on, as usual, is the only one without a partner.

"Not again!" she says. "But at least that one made sense. Seamus, truth."

"Are you sure you want to do that?" asks Ginny.

But it's too late. Seamus, who is already slurring his words, looks at Hermione and asks, "So, Hermione, what does Ron's dick look like?"

"Dude, what the fuck?" shouts Ron.

"Seriously, Seamus," adds Harry. "That's not even an interesting question."

"Sure, it is! I'm interested!"

"Old news," pipes in Neville. "We've all seen Ron's dick."

Embarrassed, Ron glances toward Hermione. She looks lost for words. "You don't have to answer, Hermione."

"No, we haven't!" says Seamus.

"Really?" says Dean as he side-eyes Seamus. "I've seen it, and I don't even live here."

Ron looks toward the loft door. Maybe he can make a run for it.

"Am I the only roommate who hasn't seen your dick?" asks Seamus, now appearing uninterested in Hermione's answer. When everyone in the room turns to look at Ron, he feels like he's naked in a crowd again.

Ron shrugs. "I guess so," he says, casually taking a sip of his beer.

"When? Where?"

"I don't know, dude. Locker rooms, penis fights, I'm sure you'll see it someday," says Ron. "Can we stop talking about my dick, now?"

"Yes, let's move on," says Hermione with an apologetic glance in Ron's direction. "Just ask me a different question."

"Fine," says Seamus, his words melding together, "Hermione, what did you think of Ron's dick?"

"Seriously, Seamus?"

"I guess we can't," mutters Ron.

Hermione rolls her eyes. "Whatever. He has a very nice penis."

"I wouldn't know," says Seamus bitterly. Then, just as quickly, "JFK!"

"FDR!"

Everyone scrambles for a new spot, and this time Ron's the only one left out in the shuffle.

"Fuck," he says, looking around for someone who won't ask him a dick-related question. "Uh, Demelza, truth."

Demelza smiles. "How did Hermione react to seeing your dick?"

"I picked you because I thought you wouldn't ask about my dick, Demelza."

"Sorry," shrugs Demelza.

"It wasn't a big deal," says Hermione.

Before he can stop himself, Ron scoffs, and once again, everyone snaps their heads in his direction.

"Sounds like it was a big deal."

"It wasn't!" says Hermione. "I mean—"

"Hermione, don't," says Ron, but Hermione continues without a missed beat.

"I laughed at first, but only because I was nervous."

"You LAUGHED?" asked Demelza. "No wonder you two are being so weird."

"It was an accident!"

"Let's move on," growls Ron. "Demelza, your turn." He shoots a glare in Hermione's direction.

"Niagara!" says Demelza.

Everyone brings their drink to their mouth and begins chugging. As soon as each person finishes, they toss their empty cans to the PBR castle in the middle of the room. Hermione, having caught on a moment too late, is the last one to toss it.

Hermione groans. "Harry, dare."

Harry grins. "Well, to make Ron feel better, I dare you to repeat after me. I love Ron's cock."

Ron's ears grow warm again, but they're also buzzing from the beer, which takes precedence over his embarrassment. Also, it'll be interesting to hear Hermione follow through with this dare.

Hermione narrows her eyes at him. "Fine. I love Ron's penis."

Ron sends her a curious glance. She said it so… formally, like she was taking an oath in court.

There's a tense silence while everyone stares at Hermione. "Try again," says Harry.

"Why?"

"I love Ron's cock," he repeats. "Say it."

"I did."

"You said penis. Not cock."

"Same thing!" she protests.

"Hermione, why can't you say cock?" repeats Harry.

"Penis is the technical term," she says, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Ron chuckles at the argument playing out before him.

"What about dick?" suggests Demelza.

Hermione stares at Demelza, her cheeks flooding with color. "Why?"

"Schlong? Wang? Knob?" offers Seamus.

"Seriously, what's wrong with 'penis'?"

"Nothing, it's just weird that you won't say cock," says Harry. "I think that should require two drinks for refusing a dare."

Ron looks around the room; everyone nods in agreement.

"Fine," says Hermione before taking a second sip.

As soon as she finishes her sip, Harry shouts, "Give me liberty or—"

"Give me death!"

As assumed, Hermione is the only one who doesn't catch on.

"Ugh," she says. "Dean, dare."

"I dare you to make it even!" slurs Dean.

"What does that mean?"

"He showed you his; now you show him yours."

"Executive order," says Ginny. "Vetoed."

"Why?" asks Ron. "I don't think it's a bad idea. Plus, it would make me feel better." He pouts at Hermione with wide, puppy-dog eyes and grins when her cheeks flood with color. He's well aware that she never responded to Dean.

"Too far, that's why," says Ginny.

"Well," says Ron. "You guys are no fun."

There's a moment of silence when no one seems to remember where they are in the game or whose turn it is. Seamus breaks the silence with a question directed at Ron.

"Can I please just see it?"

Ron groans and rolls his eyes. "No. And I'm going to bed."

"Why?" whines Seamus.

"I didn't think my dick would be such a huge topic of conversation, yet here we are."

"More of a slightly above average topic if you ask me," says Harry.

"See what I mean?" says Ron, as he hops off his cushion and turns his back to the crowd. "Goodnight."

x

After chugging a tall glass of water, Ron retreats to his room for the night, ready to escape his roommates' drunken shenanigans. He changes into sweats, settles underneath the covers, and is about to turn off the lights when there's a knock at his door.

"Erm, come in."

The door creaks open, and Hermione pokes her head into his room. "Hi," she says.

"Hi," he responds, raising his eyebrows at his unexpected guest. "Thank you for knocking."

"So—"

"I'm not naked. Sorry to disappoint you." He cuts her off, aiming for an icy tone, but unfortunately, it comes off whiny.

Maybe he has been acting a bit petty and childish.

She stares at him, expressionless, for a few tense moments and then bursts out into laughter. He can't help but follow suit. Her laughter is quite contagious when he's fully clothed.

"For the record, I'm not laughing at the thought of you naked," she assures him as if reading his mind.

"Sure, Hermione. Sure," he says. His cheeks are heating up, but he's glad it's not from embarrassment this time.

"I meant it, you know," she says, as soon as her laughter dies down.

"You meant what?"

"That you have a very nice—" she clears her throat, "cock."

Ron beams — at both the compliment and her word choice. "You said cock!"

She stands a little taller. "I've been practicing."

"Say it again!" he urges.

"Please don't make me."

"Pretty please—"

"Fine," she says, taking a step, so she's fully in the room. The door closes behind her. "Cock. Dick. Schlong. Willy."

"Okay, now you're embarrassing yourself."

"Give me more words," she says, now grinning. "I want to prove that I can do it."

"Okay, why don't you try Peter Pecker. Big Red. The Orange Cannon."

Hermione's face flashes red, and she slaps a hand to her mouth.

"Too much for you?" asks Ron.

"Did you nickname your penis?"

"No!" Ron protests, although his flushing cheeks likely give him away. "Those are from former lovers."

"Oh, well, I'm not going to say them then."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not your former lover," she argues.

He catches a slight emphasis on' former' and forces himself to keep his expression neutral. Maybe some good will come from the penis incident. Either that, or he's imagining it.

"While technically true, I still want to hear you say them."

"Too bad."

Thankful that the awkwardness seems to be dissipating, Ron grins at her. "Then you'll have to make it up to me another way."

As soon he speaks, he winces, hearing the implication of his words a moment too late. Did he actually just say that?

Hermione doesn't waste any time with her response. "How? By making it even?"

Ron cannot interpret her expression — it almost looks like she's trying to keep it neutral. In his effort to decipher it, he hesitates for too long, and by leaving her comment hanging, he might as well have agreed.

"That was actually what I came in here to do," she says, biting her lip.

"Really?"

"Yes."

At this point, it feels like his whole face is on fire, and Hermione's smirk isn't helping at all. He can't bring himself to look away from her eyes nor say anything, as the air feels too thick with tension. She could be bluffing, but he has no desire to call her on it if she is.

Is she joking?

His question answers itself when Hermione averts her eyes to the ground and hooks her thumbs at the hem of her shirt.

Holy shit. She's not.

Hermione keeps her eyes on the ground, and Ron can't help but grin at how her cheeks turn bashfully pink. He wishes he could help it because he's definitely beaming like an idiot. With a deep, nervous breath, she pulls her shirt up and over her bra—

She's not wearing a bra.

Fuck.

Ron lets out a breath that he didn't even know he was holding. "Well damn, Hermione."

Still holding up her shirt, she meets his gaze. "Yes, Ron?"

"You have amazing… knockers."

"Ron!" she says, shoving her shirt back down. He immediately misses the view, but he doesn't regret his word choice. "They're called breasts."

"Boobies. Bing Bongs. Spongey love mountains."

"And I'm the immature one?"

"Jesus, woman, just take the compliment! I'm trying to tell you that I love your tatas." He speaks before he can filter himself, hoping she doesn't read too much into his phrasing. There's nothing wrong with showing appreciation, after all.

She lets a small smile at his admission but quickly narrows her eyes and crosses her arms over her now fully-clothed chest. "If I have to say cock, you have to say breasts."

"Sorry, Hermione," says Ron, his tone veering dangerously close to flirtation. Then, feeling a bit bolder, he continues, "what I meant to say is you have wonderful breasts."

Her face tinges red, and she smiles smugly. "Thank you, Ron."

"You're very welcome. Your turn."

"What?"

He motions toward his pants. "I want to hear you say it again."

She groans. "Fine, but this is the last time."

"Sure it is."

She rolls her eyes before continuing. "Ron, you have a lovely cock."

His breath hitches in his throat. Hearing her say that again definitely does something to him, and it's not helped by the sincerity in her tone. She's not lying. As a result, his hair stands on end, heat pools in his stomach, and he's thankful for the positioning of his bed covers.

"Thank you, Hermione," he responds, looking directly into her warm brown eyes. Reflecting her slight smile, they appear softer and darker than usual, as if they're deep in thought.

Ron and Hermione keep eye contact for a few elongated seconds before the awkwardness of the interaction kicks in, and they avert their eyes, looking anywhere but each other. What an odd conversation to have with a roommate.

"I should go to bed," says Hermione, pointing at the door.

"Erm, yeah. Me too."

"So I guess I'll see you in the morning?"

"Good night," he says, but Hermione's already out the door. He sighs.

It shuts behind her, and Ron turns off the light and leans back in his bed. When he closes his eyes, the image of Hermione's perfect breasts is still fresh in his mind, and he makes no effort to let it morph into something else because who knows if he'll ever get to see them again.

Why would he? She's just his roommate.

Yeah. I'm definitely attracted to my roommate.

A smile creeps onto his face. It feels good to admit it, even if it's only to himself.

[iturbide]

You know, I cannot believe I never thought this sooner, because this interaction on askr could be really fun. Grima and Edelgard would probably hate each other initially, Grima confirming Edelgard’s biases on immortal dragons and Edelgard reminding Grima of self-righteous humans quick to violence. Then they would start to learn why they became what they are/were and realize “Oh, we’re both products of circumstances, mistakes, and answering pain with pain.” Like, they’re both trying to be better.

It really could be interesting!  But it hinges very strongly on whether or not Edelgard wants to be better.  And that’s where I have the biggest concerns, because she is pretty deeply entrenched in her beliefs, and has a dangerous habit of surrounding herself only with those who agree with her while distrusting anyone who can’t demonstratively prove they do so (again, how she claims to trust Byleth pre-timeskip but never reveals herself as the Flame Emperor despite having some perfect opportunities to do so speaks volumes to me).  None of her in-game quotes reference her plans or her intentions, only vague allusions to a battle yet to come – so while we as players know what it is she’s up to, no one in Askr really does.  And she clearly doesn’t intend to tell them. 

It seems not only possible, but plausible to me that she might see what’s going on in Askr and see it as another land in need of ‘saving,’ perhaps even a trial ground for her own ambitions in Fodlan.  Seeing the abundance of Mythic and Legendary dragons that have made their home in Askr, not to mention the overwhelming reverence that Heroes from so many worlds have toward dragons – Mystery, Genealogy, and Awakening worshiping Naga, Echoes worshiping Mila and Duma (and while there are certainly Heroes from that world that take a more measured approach to their interactions with those divines, there’s also painful evidence of how dangerous devotion to those dragons can be in the form of Fallen Berkut), Fates worshiping the Dawn and Dusk dragons (and just look what happened with Anankos) – she might well see all this as yet more evidence of how dangerous dragons are, and how they need to be overthrown so that mankind can live free and safe from their dominion. 

The fact that Edelgard is so secretive about her ambitions would likely mean that she forms an opinion about the Grimas well before they have insight into her – and given her very clear prejudice against dragons, she would not see them in a particularly good light.  They are literally possessing people.  And their ‘creche’ is devoted to the care of dragons only, with humans acting as additional attendants – not investigating or potentially disregarding the fact that it’s entirely voluntary on their part, because she knows how dragons are and all.  It doesn’t matter to her that the little dragons are literal children – because let’s not forget that she had to know the truth behind Flayn’s kidnapping: I’m willing to accept that she might not have known what Tomas was up to in Remire, but her interference on Jeritza’s behalf during Flayn’s rescue seems incredibly suspect, so while it’s up in the air whether she gave the order personally or simply stood by and allowed it to happen, the fact that she came to the Death Knight’s aid in that dungeon heavily implies that she knew what was going on and did nothing to stop it.

Think about that for a minute.  Edelgard knew that a young girl had been kidnapped with intent specifically to bleed her dry, and didn’t take enough issue with it to hasten her rescue, because she knew that girl was actually a dragon.  It doesn’t matter that Flayn never personally harmed her or hers, or that she nearly died at Tailtean and survived only because she’s spent the better part of the last millenium in a hibernative state (to the point that she’s scared to sleep again for fear that she won’t wake up): she’s a dragon and therefore deserves what she gets.

Let’s hope that the Grimas never find out about that, because that’s a recipe for disaster.

I think it would take a lot for Edelgard’s opinion of the Grimas to change.  Because she doesn’t seem to care even in Three Houses about the circumstances that brought anyone where they are.  She never bothers trying to investigate the true history of Fodlan, believing she already knows it thanks to her Imperial heritage; she at no point addresses the fact that Rhea herself is a victim, the sole survivor among her blood family, whose grief led her to devise a system that would prevent her siblings’ remains from being further abused and desecrated and whose desperate loneliness eventually drove her to commit atrocities in the name of seeing her mother again.  None of that matters to Edelgard.  So I don’t think she would ever see the Grimas as victims of circumstance without some major pressure: they aren’t human, their rampages have destroyed worlds, and their return has robbed innocent humans of the chance to live their own lives.  They can’t be trusted, and must be handled like all other dragons.

The Grimas, meanwhile, might not think much of Edelgard at first.  Again, she’s tight-lipped and speaks very little about her past, and only then to those she trusts (and she certainly doesn’t trust the Grimas).  Snatches of conversation here and there might see them open an invitation for her to join in with the creche, should she so desire it – something she would refuse, mistaking it for a trap to indenture her to dragonkind.  (The way Claude and Dimitri take so earnestly to it would only cement in her mind that they’re lost causes.)  But if the Grimas ever did find out about her history and her intentions…I don’t think they would have much in the way of sympathy.  Validar himself had a tumultuous history, but he made a choice to treat Robin as nothing more than a vessel, orchestrating his child’s physical, mental, and emotional torture as a means of awakening Grima.  In much the same way, Edelgard is making a choice to send thousands upon thousands of innocent people to be slaughtered for a cause they had no choice in, as part of a war against foes Edelgard is judging in exactly the same way that the Grimas and their followers were judged both before and after the fall.

The Grimas have changed since coming to Askr.  But they were never on a warpath to begin with: they lashed out in grief before their fall, its true, but on arriving they wanted only to be left alone, believing solitude was salvation.  They know now that they were wrong: solitude is, in truth, stagnation, and only by connecting with the world do they have a chance to learn and grow and change and become better.  Edelgard doesn’t want to connect with the world: she believes she knows all she needs to, isolating herself from all but those she trusts (who notably share her mind, as Hubert does).  She does not seek to grow or change in any way aside from acquiring power enough to fulfill her aims.  And given what her aims entail, it seems far more likely that the Grimas would stand against her and fight with all they have for those they care so deeply for – dragon and human alike.

[overdrivels]

Believe (Drabble)

HELLO FRIEND!! I LOVE ANGST™ VERY MUCH AND PLEASE DO YELL MORE BECAUSE I NEED TO BE AWOKEN INTO EXPRESSING MY LOVE FOR ANGST™ AND PERHAPS FLUFF. Thank you so much for the request, and I hope you enjoy!

You take a shuddering breath in the airship, hands flexing nervously around the modified caduceus staff that Torbjorn had made for you. Unlike the one that Dr. Zielger has which emits a passive tether and heals the entire body at once at a slow, but steady rate, yours was smaller and acted more like a laser that allowed you to interact with the injury directly and quickly. Someone had the mind to call it a 'healing swiss army knife', but no one dared to utter it again when the offender was not given any pain killers or support after breaking a leg in their latest mission at the orders of a certain doctor.

“There is no reason to be so nervous, you will do fine.” 

You offer the cyborg sitting next to you a shaky smile. Genji is sweet, has been since the day you joined the Recalled Overwatch. It’s hard not to like him or even develop some sort of affection for him. 

“I-I know, but it’s just...it’s my first mission.” You look to your feet. “What if I mess up?”

“You will.” Your head snaps up, ready to be offended at the insinuation that you will fail. “But you will overcome it. And in the worst case, I will protect you.” 

You laugh quietly, slightly warmed by his bold declaration and confidence in you--confidence that you have trouble finding in yourself. 

“Genji, thanks, but I’m a medic, not a mechanic." He laughs at that, and the cheery sound zips through you, sending your heart racing to a far off place. You groan, half at your ridiculous feelings and half at your nerves. “I’m serious, I won’t be able to help you if you get damaged.” 

A comforting hand rests on your shoulder and squeezes lightly. He levels you with a look behind the strip of green, and if you look hard enough and long enough, you swear you could see his eyes.

“I believe in you.”  

The sincerity in his words nearly takes your breath away, and you somehow gather up your courage to spit out, "You can count on me."

The irony of it all comes when Genji is forced to fend off and deflect a group of omnics that had decided that you were a better target than the others. They go down, but not without a fight, leaving Genji on his back and unable to move. You rush to him from the hiding spot he have shoved you into in his haste to protect you--it was all your fault, and you shouldn’t have gone on ahead without letting Genji scout first, and if anything permanently bad happened, Hanzo would never forgive you, Dr. Zielger would never forgive you, and you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself either--

You stop.

A weak laugh escapes you–half nervous, half frightened. That crimson liquid underneath Genji’s body couldn’t be–

“Need...healing." Genji tries to sound nonchalant, but the pain and rasp in his voice is evident. 

The sound of a previous Omnic’s dying voice box saying, "We are the same, so why..." before getting destroyed by Genji echoes faintly in your memory. No. The sight before you strongly alludes to the contrary. The pool of blood that steadily spreads it reach nearly cements it--Genji is not an Omnic, Genji is not just a cyborg with just a brain and a brain stem, he’s...

He’s bleeding out.

The realization strikes you hard.

The staff feels like a deadweight in your hands, and drops to the ground like one. Holy mother of--. Your body goes immediately on autopilot, guiding you through the well practiced motions of securing the body, checking vitals, triage–triage–tri--

“Armor...” His voice is barely more than a feeble whisper, it’s clear it takes everything he has to speak. “Remove...able.” 

Clinging to those words like a lifeline, your fingers fumble around, feeling for latches and buttons that would allow you access to the damage. Piece by piece, the armor comes off in a clumsy heap. Some of it is sticky with blood--Genji's blood. You can deal with blood, it was expected in your line of work, but your hands freeze when the largest piece of connected armor reveals skin melding into metal and tubing whose purpose you could not even begin to understand. 

You stare at the expanse of flesh, blood, and machinery. 

It vaguely occurs to you that you’ve never seen him without his armor. Nothing beyond the swath of human skin is familiar to you. Suddenly, you were back in your first day of class, the instructor firmly reminds everyone everyday for as long as he teaches the class that there is no such thing as a textbook patient.  

And Genji is definitely no such thing. 

Questions come flying at you, bombarding your brain and commanding all of its resources. How much blood does Genji have? Less than the average human, probably. Major artery damage can kill in ten to fifteen minutes. Only three to five minutes for the body to go into shock. How much blood was he losing? At what rate? How long has it been? Is he going to need a blood transplant? What even is his blood type? Again, just how much blood did he have in the first place?!

The tingling numbness in your fingers spread up and up into your chest, into your lungs, and into your brain. It’s almost as though you’re the one in danger of dying. You distantly fear that the next moments may have have you on the ground next to Genji. 

You look to his face instinctively, hoping, searching for some sort of reassurance or guidance in the weakening green light. But a much paler, shaken reflection of yourself shines off his dull face plate and greets you instead. Even you could admit that you looked horrid, weak, and more of a victim than a hero. Hardly the image of a medic. 

What ever happened to being professional and holding yourself together? 

‘I believe in you.’ 

That’s right. Genji was counting on you, believed in you, and you couldn’t betray that trust. You take a shuddering breath, willing yourself to focus on the patient–panic can wait. Your feelings can wait. Duty first. You reach again for the modified caduceus staff, the weight now grounding rather than damning or useless. You set to work,  a newfound determination to keep your teammate--your friend--alive.

When help arrives and you all return to the base, Angela later applauds you for keeping your cool, mentioning that even without exposure to someone as complex as Genji, you didn’t freeze up. Because of your quick actions, Genji is expected to make a full recovery--no lasting damage. You could only stare dumbly at her. It seemed that those moments that stretched into eternity were only merely seconds, and no lasting damage was done as a result. 

When you visit him, he greets you with a “Yo!” and a two fingered salute. You can’t help but grin at his much more lively demeanor. Even after a near death experience (that was caused because of you, you remind yourself sharply), he still manages to treat you with some shred of amenity. It certainly does nothing to dampen your affections toward the ninja.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” you say when you find your voice, seating yourself carefully near the edge of his bed.  

"I had one of the best looking after me.” You could almost hear the smile in his voice. Angela is indeed one of the best, no doubt about it. Having her look after you was almost like having the protection of a deity--an angel--who will defy death at all costs. It’s no surprise that Genji is okay. 

“I knew I was correct to believe in you. Thank you."

Before the implications even sink in, he places his hand–human hand, so full of scars and warmth–against your hand. It covers up yours entirely, and the sheer intimacy of the gesture sets your face aflame. You barely hear him chuckle through the sound of your own racing heart through your ears.

"You know,” he starts, dropping to a whisper. You have to lean close to hear, and a mischievous edge makes it way into his voice. “I would have liked if you stripped me in a more favorable manner.” 

It turns out Angela is very strong without her valkyrie suit, and is more than capable of hauling your catatonic self to the other side of the med bay.  

[magicalworldweb]

Are you a fan of detailed fantasy worlds that will take you far away to a place of dragons and demons and humans with magic powers?  I have a series for you!

Lisa contacted me some time ago when I first announced that I was going to do some author interviews.  We’ve been author friends on Facebook for a while, and she also writes fantasy, so I thought I’d give her books a go and learn about the magic in her books.

I read Talismans, which is the first book in her Wise Ones series.  Ley Lines comes next, and there’s a third book coming out in June.  You can preorder it here.

Lisa’s fantasy world is well built.  You can tell how much effort she’s put into building her magic system and the world of her characters.  There’s a grand scheme to all of it, like most good fantasy books.  Her magic users get their powers from God, so there’s a minor nod to that in the books.  A kind of C.S. Lewis element for adults you might say.  My favorite part was the interaction (and humor) between the wise ones and the dragons.  I believe her sister does the art work for the books.  Amazing, aren’t they?  For a look at the third cover (and to learn more about Lisa), hop on over to https://www.magicintheland.com 

Don’t forget to add her books to your Goodreads!  Now let’s get to know more about Lisa!

Introduce yourself.  Name.  Nickname    Hello, I’m Lisa Lowell, author of the Wise One series and also that big stack of ideas in my trunk that I started back when I was twelve.  I could finish one a year and never get them all written. I’m from Oregon, but have traveled quite a bit and always came back to the quiet green of home.  My husband and I have three children and love our life together (25 years next June) despite its unexpected twists. My nickname is unspeakable.

What personality trait has gotten you into the most trouble? The personality trait that has gotten me into the most trouble is a toss-up.  When I was younger, it was putting myself down.  It kept me from pursuing my writing and made for a lack of attachments.  I wrote gloomy prose that no one wanted to read because I was so negative on myself.  Then, after an epiphany that I won’t reveal here, I grew up.  Now, in my adult years, I find my temper gets me into trouble.  I have no patience for people since I didn’t learn how to make friends who didn’t love books and writing, so that frustration bleeds into my work and relationships.  However, from my prior experiences with overcoming my first fatal flaw, I’ve insisted that my characters too, can grow, adapt and change.

What genre (of collection) do you write in and why?  I started with fantasy, dabbled in sci-fi and even a little historical fiction.  I minored in history and love to take a spin on ancient scripture.  Why these three?  It is the magical element I cannot resist.  That’s why I don’t write within more established historical time periods.  I need the fantasy that Egypt or Babylon can bring to their long-lost world.  I enjoy science fiction for the same reason.  Aliens and super heroes bring their own fantastical facets to the writing.  In the end, it’s always about the magic.

Where do you call home? Home is western Oregon, in small rural towns all up and down the valley.  I’ve never liked living in big cities, although I have done so in my younger years.  I need the green of the forest, the splash of waterfalls and the quiet of a long walk in a garden in order to write what I do.

What books are/have you written?  At present I have two books published: Talismans and Ley Lines, the first two in Wise Ones series.  There are nine in that series altogether, and all are accepted for publication.  The third, Life Giver, is about to be published as well.  Also, I’ve got several stand alone novels that I haven’t pursued yet.  One, Dual, is a nanowrimo attempt that failed because I wanted it to be of better quality, so I took two months on it.  I also have an historical romance set in ancient Babylon, Israel and Egypt.  In between books for the Wise One series, I’m fleshing out a six or seven book sci-fi series called Markpath that I’ve dabbled with for over twenty years.  In other words, I’ve got too much writing to stop and enjoy a bout of writer’s block.

If you are having a rotten day, what do you do to conquer that?  My house is at its cleanest when I’m at my meanest.  If I’m having a rotten day, I break out the scrub brushes and take my frustration out on the hard surfaces of my house.  It’s therapeutic and cathartic as well as safer than taking it out on those loved ones around me. I would do that too easily.  Then I go for a walk in the garden.

What would you name your boat?  First of all, I would never own a boat.  My father-in-law says boat stands for ‘break out another thousand’, and I am a consummate penny pincher.  However, if I did own a boat it would be called Talisman, after my first published book.

What’s your biggest kitchen disaster?  My biggest kitchen disaster was miserable because of what it meant.  I’m not a great cook so my husband Pat used to do most of the cooking.  However, he developed Parkinsons about fifteen years ago and the worst day was when he was trying to make spaghetti.  He was pouring in a can of tomato sauce and the shakes were so bad that he dropped the nearly full can into the sauce and it splattered throughout the kitchen, even on the ceiling.  I had to repaint the ceiling and wash all the cupboards.  However, the worst part was taking the spoon away from him permanently.  It was one of the first restrictions Parkinsons imposed on the man I love, but not the last.  I remember that miserable day every time he loses something more he once loved to do.

Tell me about one of your characters.  Owailion, from the first Wise Ones novel, has a place in my heart.  He is an engineer, who had his memory destroyed before he was brought to my world and made into an apprentice in magic, taught by the dragons.  He is quiet and very intelligent, but can be overwhelmed by beauty.  That awe makes him utterly speechless.  I like him a lot, but would we get along in real life?  I think I would love to go out for dinner with him, but I could not see myself being a friend.  He’s a bit too stiff and I would feel like I was in the presence of a prophet. Of course, he would get along with me because I love them, despite his flaws.  He is far better than me.

If someone asked to be your apprentice and learn all that you know, what would they end up learning?  I am a teacher in my day job. Hence the reason I dabble in writing – to help pay the bills since teaching pays squat and my husband can no longer work.  If someone (and several have) asked to apprentice under me, they would have quite a few subjects from which to select.  I can teach sign language, writing, public speaking and drawing.  I also dabble in Swedish, calligraphy, piano, guitar, voice lessons and genealogy.  Take your pick.  I don’t limit myself, why should you?

What are your future writing plans?  I plan on finishing the Wise Ones series (six more to go) and get Dual and Prince of Samaria up and running.  Those are already written and the editing and revision are not nearly as satisfying as the writing portion, so I’d sustain my writing muse by delving into the Markpath series, which I like more than the Wise Ones.  It will take more time because of its content and the research needed, but it’s far more dynamic and rawer, which I like.

 You’re in the middle of a wizarding duel.  What animal do you transfigure into?  This is funny because one of the characters in book #7 in the Wise Ones has that ability and he cannot do anything that’s as large as a dragon, or as small as a microbe, so he often wants to become that dragon.  I’d probably select a dragon simply because I could get away and yet still be very safe if I elected to stay.  I’m a lover, not a fighter, and when I get angry, I’m fearsome.  A dragon that would fly away doesn’t strike me as a coward, but also doesn’t have to fight.  That’s what I like about it.

You are transported to one of your favorite books.  Where are you?  I am on Pern, although I don’t think I’d like it there very much.  I would probably not be a dragonrider, so the rest of life would be rather inglorious.  Maybe I could handle being a harper. I like music and while I’m not overly talented, the teaching of children is right up my path.

Thank you, Lisa, for letting us get to you know and your books a little better.  I feel like we could chill over coffee if we were closer neighbors!   It’s been a pleasure, and it sounds like we can expect more good literature from you!

Live Bravely Love Strongly AEM

Interview with the Author: Lisa Lowell Are you a fan of detailed fantasy worlds that will take you far away to a place of dragons and demons and humans with magic powers?  

[wrightsum857]

SPIRITED AWAY REVIEW PTII (Sorry I am late it has been a while hasn't it?)

The focus is mainly going to be on Haku. Not all of this is mine, I got a lot of inspiration/ideas from a fanfiction written by someone called moviefan-92. It is absolutely wonderful and I absolutely recommend you give it a read. I shall leave a link below. As always a quick *warning of spoilers*.

From the start Haku is a bit of a mystery. He appears seemingly out of nowhere and disappears as fast. Warning Chihiro to leave immediately (which I always thought of as a bit rude but I can understand why).

He then goes on to protect Chihiro, bring her to the bath house to get work, find her clothes from the Human World, secure her identity (and so her freedom), allow her to see her parents, make a deal to break her contract, retrieve her from Zeniba’s and allow her to leave to go home with a final piece of advice to secure her safety through the tunnel to her world. Phew! Not bad for a two hundred odd Dragon-boy spirit.

Anyways we get very varied sides of Haku. Not all of them are good. He is either cold and distant, or warm and friendly. Some of the spirits even warn Chihiro to stay clear of him. So why doesn’t Chihiro? And how does she/he fall in love with him/her?

Okay yes, if you met a (cute) boy about your age *(well looks anyway) who frees you from a spell that cripples your legs and feeds you to protect you from dying and allows you to see your parents-well you might be a little bit grateful. But that doesn’t explain how she fell in love with him. *I am just going to assume that since he looks ten he acts and feels and behaves like a ten year old-not including his magic and knowledge attained over the past century or so.

We would have to assume that before Haku left for Yubaba he kept visiting Chihiro to take her to see her parents as he warned her to ‘never come here without me’. How else could Chihiro remember what her parents looked like to know for certain the pigs Yubaba sets before her are a fake? I don’t know about you but I would not be able to distinguish my parents as pigs after only seeing them very briefly twice!

With this in mind this off screen interaction must account for Chihiro suddenly being in love with Haku. We see her with him 6 times (roughly) Amazingly though Miyazaki gives us enough hints on screen for us to realize Chihiro cares for Haku. So when she breaks the curse from the Golden Seal on him it is not a complete surprise.

Alone, she goes on to dream about him, recalling the moment she fell into a river as a young toddler. When he assigns her to her room he acts cold and distant from her-here is the only time we see Chihiro openly hurt and confused by him. Of course we as a viewer understand that if he showed any kind of kindness towards her he would cause suspicion.

This cold attitude however is important. It shows who Haku has been and behaved like for decades to the other staff. Kamaji (the boiler man) later explains that when Haku first came over to the bath house he was good but by becoming Yubaba’s apprentice he became cold and his eyes hardened; he was never the same again. Chihiro sees this part of Haku but forgives him because she knows what he has done for her already. The only other time he is distant towards Chihiro, is when he is left to bleed out from his injuries. He snarls at Chihiro and Kamaji warns her to be careful as he is a ten foot, very sore dragon at this point. But I would argue he wasn’t angry at Chihiro, we as a viewer can recognize that he may just be a little bit embarrassed that Chihiro is seeing him like this. Even though she knows he is a Dragon-he might not they might never have discussed it. He might be worried she might be scared of him looking like that? And to be hurt at all, when he has appeared as nothing but strong and powerful in front of her in the past.

The gentle side of Haku. Although curt with her at the start, he did save her life. He is extra cautious and gentle when he finds her and encourages her to eat the berries to live. After being cruel to her in front of the other workers, he makes it up to her by taking her to see her parents. He gives her-her name back and comforts her as she cries. All the time speaking in a gentle tone.

The sweet side of Haku. Haku admits he knows her real name even though she never told him. At this point we/he does not know why this is. But already we can tell that simply knowing her name is enough. Subconsciously his mind has made the connection and this secret-this truth prompts him to be good. It is a reminder of whom he once was-a good and kind Spirit. Chihiro prompts him to recall his former self back to the surface. Feeding his former strength to fight Yubaba’s spell over him. For this he can’t help but protect her like he once did long ago. As for Chihiro. She is ten (and if you read my first review on her) a bratty little girl who has never known true love. She is presented with a boy who not only saves her but continuously protects her from harm-pushing for her to return home with her parents. Who else offers her a way out? (Except Kamaji who gives her tickets to see Zeniba but that is still within the realm of the Spirit World). Granted he is a little pushy, but he is continuously saving her and protecting her. This goes against every negative thing all the other Spirits have said. Haku feels comfortable enough to show who he truly is and Chihiro recognizes that.

The Lake Spirit helps Chihiro to understand Haku’s predicament further. Here she is confronted with a similar type of Water Spirit who is polluted from the waste humans dumped in his lake over many years. So much so, that he is visibly ugly and off putting i.e. a ‘Stink’ Spirit. Haku is the same- only it is on the inside. The control bug Yubaba has put inside him, and his true name she stole from him, have caused him to become hard and bitter. Being surrounded by like-minded spirits who we learn are filled with greed and gluttony is enough to make anyone crazy-take No Face for instance! By saving the Lake Spirit Chihiro realizes she has the potential to save Haku. -repaying him for his kindness towards her. She just has to find a way to expel all that ‘dirt’ that is inside of him. Selfless side of Haku. Even when close to death Haku slowed Chihiro’s decent so they could land (albeit a little bumpily) into Kamaji’s stock room. Innocent side of Haku. I love the fact that Haku struggles to take the medicine and like Chihiro is horrified by how disgusting the medicine tastes. It shows a level of childishness and innocence we have seen before. For once Chihiro gets to boss Haku around for his own good!

With that two things emerge. 1 the controlling bug (similar to a peeping bug in Howl’s Moving Castle) that forced Haku to do Yubaba’s bidding. 2 the Golden Seal Haku had taken from Zeniba. Kamajii admits Haku should be dead due to how powerful the curse protecting the seal is- that only True Love could have saved him. This is the moment we have confirmation of Chihiro’s love for Haku. Without us really knowing it Miyazaki has fed us small snippets into Chihiro’s thoughts and feelings over Haku that had helped us accept this idea without much complaint. So of course we aren’t as surprised by this revelation. But what about Haku? Does he love Chihiro? Do two people have to love each other in order for the curse to break or was it just Chihiro’s love for Haku? After all that has happened I would say it took both of them. Haku has being looking out for Chihiro from the beginning-he doesn’t know why but he has. Chihiro does the same for him. Not just to repay him but because she genuinely cares about hi. Running onto pipes on the sides of buildings and nearly falling to her death caring for him. If that isn’t Love, I don’t what it is.

But it occurs to me as I write this review as to what KIND of love are we talking about here? Chihiro is still just a child (I would assume the same for Haku as discussed earlier), I doubt she would be feeling the romantic, sometimes lusty-energetic kind of love you experience as an adult so what is it? It is not sibling love either-that is clear enough too. No it is just love in its purest form. This is the one thing I love about Mr. Miyazaki the most. His talent to convey a child’s love-a sweetheart’s love that has none of the complications an adults love has.

Haku saved Chihiro’s life, he was her closest companion (other than Lin and Kamajii) who was remotely close to her age-he was her friend. And Chihiro loved him for it. Having to be so hard and strict to stay in charge, it is clear Haku doesn’t have much friends-or maybe none except Kamaji. So clearly being friends with Chihiro would be a big deal for him too. We saw at the beginning of the film that Chihiro is very good at making strongly bonded friendships-so much so she was even given a bouquet of flowers to say goodbye! Haku is just another example of a what a strong friendship with Chihiro looks like when put into action. Even Lin and Kamaji are devoted to her. Chihiro simply has a way about her that causes you to love her and Haku is no exception. So yes I think he is a good friend but I don’t believe she/he loves him/her ��just as a friend”. -No Face is ‘just a friend’. They both have a deep regard and affection for each other that I believe stems from their first encounter- the day they first met when she was younger in the Human World. That event caused a bond to form between the two of them that was personal. Her presence has merely rekindled that bond and allowed it to grow into something deeper and pure.

The I am in love with you side of Haku (by far the sweetest side). Haku awakens. Recalling how he heard her voice calling him back from the brink of death. He goes to his boss Zeniba, reveals her son his missing and stands his ground against her at the peak of her fury. And finally, forces her to redraw Chihiro’s contract. He then goes to Chihiro. As Chihiro throws herself at him he accepts her embrace in return, completely comfortable for her to see him in his Dragon form. As they fly through the air-on his back, Chihiro is taken back again to the time when she fell in the river and this time she recalls it clearly. Haku saved her life when she was just a young girl. Instead of allowing her to drown Haku personally disengaged from his river-in his Dragon form and carried her to shore. But recalling this allowed to Haku, she shouts out his full name and Haku finally remembers. He is so startled he transforms back into a human and behaves more excited and happy then we have ever seen him before, clenching hands with Chihiro with tears in both their eyes in happiness. (Ugh I cry every time I see that part).

What is it about their relationship that makes it not just friendship? It’s her asking for him, it’s them embracing, saving each other’s lives time and time again etc. taking soul-mates to a whole new level! Because that is what they are. Haku (a soul) and Chihiro (his mate) where destined for each other. For Haku, Chihiro was his humanity of sorts-her presence reminded him that he does not mind Humans-and would do anything to protect one in particular. - Unlike many other Spirits like Zeniba, who believe spirits to be ‘smelly’ creatures. But since Haku has been around similar thinking Spirits for so long, it was hard not to be affected by their negative thoughts and behavior for a while. However, if he can reveal himself to a human (which is forbidden) and save the life of a child, and continue to protect her when she is older-then he is not a bad person/spirit. Chihiro saw this in him from the start and never doubted him. She even admits to him that she knew he ‘were good’ from the start.

By the end of the film Haku has proven to us that he is not a one dimensional character. Like all people he is a 'diamond in the rough’ with multiple facets of emotions that make him who is and a great, good guy. He is: reserved, courageous, protective, caring and kind. He is as smart as he is powerful-all driven by his love for Chihiro, his sweet heart, his friend, his soul-mate.

The film ends in the Spirit World how it began-Haku and Chihiro on the bridge with a final farewell and a promise-a promise to see each other again. And why not? After all they have met each other twice now-in two very separate Worlds-so why not for a third? Although this has yet to be proven by Miyazaki (annoyingly enough) many have given their thoughts and views on how Chihiro and Haku met again.

There is ALOT of beautiful fanfiction-some drawings, paintings etc. and some stories. Which leads me onto the fanfiction I have recommended prior to this review. Movie-fan92 has written a stunning fanfiction about how Chihiro could have met Haku again- another 10 years down the line. It is a very beautiful piece I am sure even Mr. Miyazaki would love! I personally feel it captures Chihiro and many of the other character’s characteristics well. I would definitely give it a read.

On a personal note I believe it is plausible Chihiro could have met Haku in her world. He could have found his river, found where it opens back onto level ground/air and flown to where she may be etc. Or she could have been waiting at an opening at his river etc. They could have lived a full life together and moved on to the Spirit World together etc. The less sweet version of course is that Chihiro dies and becomes a Spirit but this is where I prefer Movie-fan92’s version Chihiro returns to the Spirit World, still human but still very much in love with Haku, and this time she plans on staying…

Anyway I hope you liked this review and let me know what you think- Did Mr. Miyazaki convey their love well? Was it obvious? Do you believe Chihiro and Haku could ever meet again? If so how? Here is the link, seriously, enjoy. https://m.fanfiction.net/s/3261432/1/Spirited-Away-2-Return-to-the-Spirit-World: