#I love how you captured the utter despair on his face but also I hate how you captured the utter despair on his face

[scyllas-revenge]

I’m feeling too many emotions and I can’t handle it

Ok okok let me smash my keyboard for a minute

I always liked how Sean Bean played Boromir; even during my twee Legolas years I liked how he played Boromir. But now that I'm working through his filmography, I can easily say he ABSOLUTEY KILLED in Fellowship. As other people have pointed out, a majority of his roles can be broken down into "wolf man with sword" or "wolf man with gun," but so few of them include THIS^^^^^^^ This gut-wrenching remorse! The sorrowful weeping! The wretched vulnerability! Even in Sharpe, which arguably gives him the most space for character development, we get a few sniffles and tears and the fan-favorite Mouth Rub, but we don't get this, not even when [redacted] and [redacted] die. He doesn't break apart like this. A Sean Bean action hero is stoic, longsuffering, a little sneaky, occasionally snarky, sometimes wicked, but to me that makes the emotional depth he brought to Boromir ALL THAT MUCH MORE AMAZING. The role allowed for it and he TOOK IT.

[letshaikyuu]

𝐇𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: ‘What would you do if after you pass, you get the chance to watch a video tape of your entire life with your guardian angel?’

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: When the world has suddenly lost its sunshine.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: angst with no happy ending (can be considered happy if you squint real hard), mentions of death and suicide

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: mentions of past!Kageyama Tobio x Hinata Shouyou

A never-ending landscape of white. A vast space that would make anyone go crazy. It felt like days since he got here. His bright orange hair heavily contrasted the white expanse as it bounced with every cautious step Hinata took. How he got here in the first place was alarming him, as his memory of anything that happened before was completely wiped out and replicating the emptiness of the place he was currently in. He was never too fond of unknown spaces, especially when he was alone. It always felt like there was something out to get him and torture him once its hands got him. That’s why he was forever thankful for the people he has in his life for protecting him and keeping up with his childish actions. He was the most thankful to Kageyama. He thought of how his once enemy was his now flat mate and partner that had to put up with his antics and breakdowns whenever Hinata was not feeling his best. Feeling an immense feeling of having to thank Tobio once he saw him, Hinata abruptly stopped. Now that he recollected his thoughts a bit…there was this certain haze that seemed to be overflowing his mind.

It was like his whole mind was empty, except the poorly represented Kageyama in it. No matter how much Hinata was thinking, he couldn’t come up with anything or even clear the image of Kageyama. He began to panic. Heart rapidly beating in his chest at the thought of having no recollection of himself and his memories. Oh, how unpleasant it felt to feel like a stranger in your own body. His hands were tightly pulling on his hair, tears that were filling up his eyes have already started rapidly falling and his chest was constricting any deep breathing. His head was starting to hurt from the countless trial and error, attempting to gain any further information of him and his previous whereabouts. He was certain there was more to his life and Kageyama’s life then just each other, but he was losing hope. Was his whole life just one Kageyama Tobio?

‘Shouyou,’ a soft and angelic-like voice called out his name. Looking up with his tear stained face, his eyes capture the image of something so magnificent that he could’ve never believed existed in real life. A deity was standing in front of him, with its glory and beauty, but for someone very wary and scared like Hinata, he felt this huge wave of reassurance coming from said deity that made him extremely calm. Still sniffling, Hinata stood up from his, now bruised knees and glanced through his teary gaze at the deity.

A beautiful woman was standing just a few meters from him with the softest of smiles on her face. Blue eyes brightly shinning in the white vastness, blonde hair curling down her back and pure white clothing gently caressing her body. Hinata noted that it reminded him of those ancient Greece outfits he happened to learn in History class once…if only he could remember what school that happened in and what teacher he was hardly listening to was. His pent-up frustration and panic was brimming again, but it never burst. A soft hand gently curled around his thin wrist and he felt calm again. The deity was standing right in front of him and Hinata couldn’t control the blush appearing on his cheeks at the sight of such beauty. She looked into his eyes and a sad smile appeared on her face. If he had blinked, he surely would have missed it, but he felt sad seeing her upset.

‘I still think it’s too early for you to be here Shouyou…but it’s not like I have a say in things like this…’ Hinata was confused to say the least. No matter how empty his mind was, he would have never forgotten meeting such a beauty like this before in his life. What could she possibly be talking about? ‘Come with me Shouyou. I have something to show you.’ His feet voluntarily moved against his will and followed the deity. As they were walking, the white vastness that was once scaring Hinata, seemed like long-lost home. He felt as they were walking through his home and the deity was just a guest that happened to stop by and visit. Nonetheless, something felt extremely wrong with this picture and too overbearing for Hinata to easily accept.

‘Wait!’ He abruptly stopped, the deity being forced to halt as well. She glanced behind to see Hinata looking at her with an unmistaken fire in his gaze. It was a look common for him and the deity couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of it brought to life again. ‘Yes, Shouyou?’

Now that the deity was actually waiting for him to say something, he felt the pressure of it having to be something smart or at least something that made sense. He didn’t feel like embarrassing himself now. ‘Uhm..,’ he struggled to find any words that could describe what he was feeling and the need of comfort, ‘w-who are you?’

Managing to blurt out a simple sentence, he cowered from the deity in fear that she would be angry with him and his question for some unknown reason. When nothing happened, he slowly opened his eyes and removed his arms, that were protecting his head, as the deity was still calmly looking at him. Only now, she looked hesitant. Hinata asked a simple question, why wouldn’t she have an answer to something so obvious and simple like that?

‘Shouyou,’ her eyes locked on his brown ones, any attempt to tare it away would have been futile. ‘My name is Sariel and I, Shouyou, am your guardian angel.’ She spoke very quietly, as if any louder tones would hurt the young adult standing in front of her. Expecting for him to break down in realization and sadness, she was quite shocked at the stoic face of Hinata. She believed he had not moved an inch since she came down on him with such information.

‘That’s..,’ he looked to be deciphering her words in his head, ‘SO COOL!’ Now it was Sariel’s turn to be shocked. She didn’t expect Hinata to react in such a way, not when she has been protecting the said boy for 23 years.

‘Shouyou-‘

‘You’re kind of like…my protector, right!’ His eyes shined brightly for the first time since he stepped into this place. An indescribable sense of comfort washed over him when she acknowledged his statement with a confused nod. ‘Sooo Sariel-san!’

‘Yes, Shouyou?’

‘You probably brought me here because I did something wrong, right! I mean, I am usually very chaotic and messy and happen to get myself stuck in the dumbest of situations, but like why couldn’t you just have come to me instead of bringing me here and I can’t even remem-‘

‘Shouyou!’ He halted his long monologue and looked closely at Sariel. The deity didn’t try to hide her sadness this time and Hinata felt the anxiousness brimming again and this time, it felt like it will stay there.

‘Shouyou…I-,’ hand cupping his cheek, she tried to calmly continue,’ you have passed away on Earth and I brought you here, to Heaven.’

Sariel was now certain Shouyou knew what she was talking about by the way his jaw dropped, the fire in his eyes diminishing and replaced with void, rapid twitching of his hands. Hinata Shouyou was falling into a state of shock and unfortunately, Sariel could not help him get over the loss of his life.

»»———————►

What Sariel hated most about her job was the shocked state the people she’s been guarding go through. Especially someone as young and full of life as Hinata Shouyou. She would never be prepared for the absolute denial, onslaught of tears and cries when they finally realize everything is really over for them and that they will never get another opportunity to see or hear their loved ones again. It was a never-ending cycle of despair that Sariel had to go through with every person. This time, said person was Hinata.

Now seated in front of a blank white wall, Sariel was waiting for Hinata to come out of his state of shock. Her neatly wrapped, white gown had become undone from his constant pulling and crying, his screams deafening and knees giving out on his weakened body. Shouyou reacted like every other person before him. There were cases where people happened to come to terms with their passing quickly and Sariel didn’t have to do much before sending them on their way to Heaven. People also get the chance to regain their lost memories by watching a video tape of their entire life before ascending further. Even though he didn’t have the strength to utter a single word, Hinata was able to provide her a weakly nod. He did want to see that video tape.

‘Shouyou? Are you ready?’ His blank stare was still pointed to the ground, fingers aimlessly pulling on the white T-shirt he was wearing. Another weakly nod. Sariel looked at him sadly, it was never easy trying to comfort such a young soul that had years left to live. Regrettably, Sariel could never have a say to who is to pass and who is to live a happily life. The only comfort she could provide each passing soul was a chance to relive all of the unforgettable and happy moments in their lives. She put in Hinata’s video tape and sat beside him, hand barely touching his knee, but still showing him that he wasn’t going to go through this transition.

A piercing baby’s wail echoed throughout the void, making Hinata jump. He looked at the screen in front of him when he saw a baby with distinctive orange hair crying beside a hospital bed, in which Hinata could easily recognize his mother. Like a renewed set of tears came out of him, Hinata chocked back a sob at the thought of never seeing his mother again. How she was never going to call Shouyou at ungodly times at night because she just can’t catch a grip with timezones or is just worried for him. There will never be that voice filled with pride when Hinata called to tell her they won another game or when it’s hardly above a whisper when she’s telling Hinata that she’s so proud of him, no matter what, after a loss.

‘You were such a beautiful baby Shouyou. When I got assigned to be your guardian angel, I couldn’t stop looking at you because you were easily the most beautiful baby I have ever seen in my line of work,’ her hand was rubbing comforting circles on his back and moved onto the next video.

Now, there was another piercing wail, but Shouyou didn’t recognize it as his own. Yet another curly, orange haired baby. This time, it was Natsu. Hinata, now a little boy, was standing beside his mother’s hospital bed and trying to get a good look of Natsu. His tiny fingers were clumsily trying to reach out to his new baby sister. Joy evident in his large, brown orbs. He had a sibling and someone to play with now!

‘Mommie! Can I play with her pleaseeeeeee!’Shouyou stared at his kid-self and cracked a smile through his broken facade. He always loved Natsu. She was his baby sister and Hinata, even though he was still fairly young himself, kept telling his mom how he’d always keep Natsu safe and happy. He’d go through her first boyfriend, breakup and heartbreak together with a tub of her favorite ice-cream placed between them. Remembering how last time he checked, Natsu didn’t have a boyfriend, Shouyou realized that he broke his promise.

‘I’m such a bad brother..,’ he looked at Sariel with a heartbroken look and tried to find comfort in her blue orbs. They were, surprisingly, really comforting and reminded him of Kageyama’s own blue orbs. They were an amazing shade of blue that beat the sky by a mile. Glancing back at the video, Hinata saw a compilation of all of the times Natsu and he played together, time and place varying. His sister was going to be growing up without her older brother there. There was really no forgiving him.

‘I was amazed by how much you loved her. Older children tend to have a certain annoyance and hate towards their younger sibling, because they are stealing all the attention. But,’ his eyes found hers again and saw a small glimmer of happiness in them,’ that was when I knew that you would forever be a good and helping soul. And I was not mistaken.’

The following videos are of his middle school friends, Izumi and Koji,and their multiple mischievous acts. Videos that didn’t fail to bring out a small chuckle from his mouth were the ones where Izumi tried to teach him basketball and Koji accidentally hit him in the face with the soccer ball because Hinata had the urge to become a goal man. That failed miserably and left Hinata with a bruise the following days.

‘W-what was the name of the middle school we went to?’’Yukigaoka Junior High. The next video is about your first volleyball match, heads up Shouyou.’

At those words, Hinata sharply turned his head, just in time to see him and Kageyama talking across the net. Looking at his boyfriend’s young features, Hinata teared up. There was no way he wasn’t going to feel his touch again or the way they kept teasing each other whenever their teams happened to collide in the V-League. His boyfriend was perfect back then too.

‘Your time at Karasuno is next.’

Hinata didn’t know how much more of this tape he could handle more. From meeting Kageyama for the first time in Karasuno’s gym, to having a spike landing straight on his face by Asahi. Even the training camps were there! And how we spent time with Fukurodani’s ace and that tall Russian from Nekoma!Kenma was also there playing his games and offering Hinata to play with him. Sugawara was always there to pat his head, Daichi to get him to focus, Tanaka and Noya to hype him up and all the other amazing teams he had the chance to meet and play with during his time at Karasuno. Ushijima was right there staing him down during the Preliminary Finals and Miya Atsumu was there to laugh at him when he forgot to spike during the Karasuno v. Inarizaki match.

‘You know, Shouyou, I’ve never been to Brazil before so thank you for giving me the opportunity to go there.’’U-uhm you’re welcome?’

Scenes of Hinata constantly being sunburnt and never wanting to leave the beach stuck with him really hard. It was the first time he went through such an endeavor all by himself, but he pulled through. It was also the period he missed Kageyama the most and they kept arguing with each other about who kept getting the time zones wrong because neither could get a decent amount of sleep with the phone constantly ringing.

‘I was always trying to get you out of the sun every way I can, but I always forget how stubborn you are Shouyou.’’Hehe sorry Sariel…I never enjoyed those sunburns either…’

They both noticed how Hinata became more open and kept commenting on some of the videos. Still through teary eyes, but a small smile from him was worth millions for Sariel. They get used to it, one way or the other. They come to terms with how they lived the way they did and that it was just their time. Every video tape is special. It contains our lost memories, good or bad, our deepest regrets and even deeper secrets. But that’s the beauty of life.

While Sariel was watching Hinata laugh at a video that was filmed during Black Jackal’s training and happened to capture one of Bokuto’s many childish antics, she knew that the video was ending soon and there was last final obstacle he had to go through.

‘Shouyou. This is the last video. After this..-‘’Everything is officially over…’

Hinata would be heading to his final resting place, Heaven. Outlines of stairs could be seen at the corner of the white void and he took a sharp intake of breath. Is it really going to end like this?

Suddenly, there was crying echoing. Neither Sariel or he were crying. He looked confused before Sariel pointed her finger towards the wall one last time. It was dark and raining. People dressed in black formed a circle around a grave. The video zoomed in on the grave, its writings stating:

‘This is the final resting place of Hinata Shouyou. A son, a brother, a friend and a teammate. Let him forever rest in peace.’

His family, friends and all the people he cared about and loved were standing there, watching as his casket was lowered to the ground. People giving speeches was also shown. Hinata knew all of his effort to come to terms with this situation has been useless because there was no way something like this actually happened to him, right?

‘Shouyou stop hurting yourself-‘

‘I CAN’T REALLY BE DEAD SARIEL. WHAT IS GOING ON WITH ME!?’ He tried to slap himself back to reality and hope that when he opens his eyes, his messy bedroom will meet his eyes. But it never worked. Each time Hinata opened his eyes, he faced the familiar white vastness and Sariel looking sadly at him. By the tenth time, Hinata let out a scream in frustration and broke down. Sariel was quick to come beside him and try her best to ease his aching soul with her deity presence.

‘S-Sariel *hiccup* i-it c-can’t *hiccup* end l-like this…’

‘Shouyou…I’m sorry, but it’s time for you to go.’ With her deity strength, she was able to get Hinata back up on his feet and trudging towards the Heavenly stairs. When she felt Shouyou was strong enough to hold himself up, she stepped away. Dare she say it, she was going to miss this little tangerine.

‘Sariel…’’I wish you the best Shouyou up there. I know you will feel happy there as well, you just have to let yourself go.’

Tears were rapidly spilling from his eyes, the bright light from behind him beautifully enchanting Sariel’s look. It was a one way ticket to Heaven. To the pearly gates that are awaiting his arrival. On that first step, he felt the memories of his loved ones sink in and Hinata found it hard to breathe. His foot was heavy as it took a step on the second one. Foot by foot, step by step, Hinata was almost there. He felt the welcoming light calm him and his soul. He was ready.

But, there was one thing constantly on his mind. Out of all his memories, Hinata was sure Kageyama took up a good portion of them. He failed to see any sole memories of the two together. Looking back over his shoulder, he saw Sariel wiping a stray tear that has fallen as she watched Hinata ascend.

‘Sariel!’ She looked up at Hinata, confused as to what he would want now.

‘Why wasn’t Tobio in any of my memories?’

He could feel an eerie silence, even though he was standing right in front the epitome of calmness. Sariel seemed to be thinking what to say as well. ‘Sarie-‘

‘Shouyou…The reason you can’t see Tobio in your memories is..,’ Hinata could feel the uneasiness oozing from Sariel. ‘You can’t see the person who is yet to cross over Shouyou.’

Hinata stood frozen right at the Gates of Heaven. That couldn’t possibly mean…?

‘W-wait, it’s not possible for that to happen unless-!?’

‘Shouyou. Tobio committed suicide the night of your funeral. I’m so sorry.’

»»———————►

There was no video tape precious enough to replace the memories he had of Tobio. He would have traded every memory from there just to have a clear image of his boyfriend in mind,h happy like it was once. But, Hinata didn’t get to choose. The only choice he made was to live his life to the fullest. He would be forever grateful to Sariel, who made sure to save him from as much trouble as possibly. But most of all, he was thankful to have had someone like Kageyama Tobio in his life. Even if it wasn’t made to last forever.

═══════════════

Taglist: @death-waves-to-me​, @shangyinn-ig​, @kawaiibaka96​, @brokutoforever​, @kashika​

I am so glad I found this prompt and I’m really happy I chose Shouyou as the main character for it! Hopefully you guys like it uwu 

Have a wonderful day

[thepotionbat]

All These Things That I’ve Done

Hi guys! Somehow I deleted this post, LOL, so here I am putting it back up.

I am happy to announce that I have finally finished the first chapter to my Snape lives AU fic! It is going to be a multi-chapter fic and I feel that it will end up rather long. If you want to keep up with when updates drop, let me know and I will add you to the tag-list!

Notes: I am writing mostly from the Deathly Hallows Part II movie simply because that is freshest on my mind, but that's not to say that book scenes and details won't ever be mentioned. I don't own Harry Potter or anything in the universe, including the characters. The only thing that belongs to me is what I decide to do with this AU as well as the one original character I plan on including later on. Also, the title and the italicized couplet kicking off the story is derived from the song All These Things That I've Done by The Killers, a song which I feel captures the essence of what this fic is about. Credit to the respective owners.

Edit: Here is an amazing piece of artwork that served as inspiration for the idea of Fawkes saving Snape. It was lost in my likes so I had to dig to find it.

Chapter word count: 3,254

Summary: The world post-Voldemort is a complicated one to navigate: the Ministry is taken over by a Minister who does not know of Snape's service to the Order, Dementor's are still at Azkaban, Snape's name remains uncleared, and, perhaps surprisingly of all to Snape, Harry seems to have respect for him now. Despite the uncertainty of his future, Snape is amazed to find that he actually has one in the first place -- his years of living as a spy and a puppet to Dumbledore as well as undergoing faux obedience to Voldemort have left him in a state of mind that abandoned all hopes of living a life for himself --now, however, he realizes there is a life post-war for him after all, no matter how unsteady it may be.

Chapter One

While everyone’s lost, the battle is won With all these thing’s that I’ve done

Harry sat outside on the steps in the breaking daylight, steeped in an utter quietness that seemed deafeningly loud.

The majority of people were inside the castle, tending to the sick or burying the dead, indexing the names of all who had been lost; Harry had taken this moment to himself, having broken away from the thick air of grief he had been smothered with inside, unable to stop feeling responsible for the mangled and bloodied bodies littering the Great Hall.

Outside, the birds chirped; a breeze stirred, urging leaves to dance through the air. It was as if nature, too, was celebrating the death of Voldemort.

The weight of the responsibility Harry had felt virtually his whole childhood was, at long last, lifted off of his shoulders; he had done his job, he had vanquished Tom Riddle once and for all — yet, still, he couldn’t find rest. Exhaustion clung to his bones, but the idea of sleep was far out of his reach.

He breathed in a deep breath of morning air, staring out at the courtyard where he had been just hours earlier. He hoped the air would fill him in some way, cleanse him of the heaviness that persistently tugged at his skin.

Voldemort was gone, the Wizarding world saved — so why did Harry feel so lost, so hollow?

His consciousness echoed with the faces of the dead; memories of cold, lifeless bodies strewn on the ground, overwhelming in number, were imprinted onto his brain, imprinted onto the back of his eyelids; every time he closed his eyes, he saw Remus, Tonks, Fred...

Snape.

The loss of his parents, the loss of Sirius, Remus, Fred, Tonks, Hedwig... out of all of these, it was Snape’s death that was bringing Harry the most confusion—

This was because he wasn’t sure how to feel, how to cope with it. Snape, the man he had hated since coming to Hogwarts for the first time, the man he thought had hated him in return... Harry couldn’t stop picturing the anguish on Snape’s face when he learned that his mother had died, the way he had stood in Dumbledore’s office in complete despair; the horror in his eyes after Dumbledore told him that Harry was a horcrux and must be killed by Voldemort.

Most of all, though, Harry couldn’t shake the way Snape had met his gaze as he bled out into the palm of Harry’s hand, the silvery residue of memories on his cheek; it was Snape’s black eyes that were seared into his brain most hauntingly.

Harry picked up a nearby rock and tossed it into the clearing; it clattered against the cobblestone ground, an action that scraped the silence and broke the calm stillness of the morning.

He wanted to feel angry; angry with Dumbledore, for withholding the entire truth from him all these years; angry with Snape, for giving the prophecy to Voldemort, for sacrificing his life as a double agent, for playing his part so convincingly, for loving his mother — but he couldn’t.

Anger was a familiar friend, an emotion that Harry knew well. He had felt it in intense bouts for the better part of his life, been chained under its control again and again—

But he didn’t feel that now. Now, all that was left in Harry was grief.

He once again picked up a stone; its roughness pricked his hand. He hesitated a moment, taking a second to consider the weight of it— but before he could throw it, another sound cracked the silence: the scuff of a shoe, not his own.

Harry turned automatically to see Ginny, who was rushing outside with a look of urgency, her red hair pouring over her face as she moved over to him.

“Ginny,” he said, standing. “What—”

“Harry,” she interrupted, her voice breathless with shock, “Snape is alive.”

The news utterly knocked the wind out of him. Again, Snape’s eyes flashed before his mind, as did the memory of the man’s blood staining the palm of Harry’s hand. Pure shock electrified his nerves, and he was unable to do anything else but blink at Ginny, dumbfounded.

Distantly, he heard himself repeat, “Alive?”

She nodded quickly. “In the Great Hall. McGonagall went to go get his body and— well, Fawkes was there. Fawkes had saved him.”

Harry continued to stare at her for several seconds, in complete disbelief.

“He doesn’t look good,” Ginny warned, and in fact she did look paler than normal, a testament to her warning. “But he’s still alive.”

Harry moved past her, an automatic reaction more than anything, but he felt her presence close behind, following him. He went back inside and turned to enter the Great Hall, in which he immediately spotted the location of the commotion.

People were grouped together, murmuring in hushed voices; those that weren’t amongst the crowd were quiet too, observing with various expressions of dispassion, their lack of reaction influenced by their lack of knowledge of Snape’s heroism.

Harry pushed through the throng of people numbly. In the center of them all indeed lay Snape; Fawkes was at his shoulder, the Phoenix’s tears dripping onto the man’s ravaged neck.

You must have shown me real loyalty down in the Chamber. Dumbledore’s voice rang clearly in Harry’s mind, the memory from his second year at Hogwarts tossed to the surface of his consciousness. Nothing but that could’ve called Fawkes to you.

Harry stood there for an indefinable period of time, staring at the Professor’s bloodied and torn black robes, the undeniable but faint rise and fall of his chest, awash with utter shock; McGonagall was there, muttering spells and pointing her wand at the wound on his neck.

Madam Pomfrey came through the crowd seconds later, looking disheveled but commanding.

“All of you, give us space,” she ordered. The people dispersed, leaving behind only Harry, Ginny, and Professor McGonagall.

Madam Pomfrey murmured healing spells, her wand moving from various puncture wounds throughout Snape’s body, while McGonagall stayed at his neck. To Harry, everything was muted in silence under the blanket of his shock; he only distantly heard the rush of footsteps behind him that announced the arrival of Ron and Hermione.

“So it is true,” Hermione said, her voice hushed, as she looked at Fawkes. “He really was Dumbledore’s.”

The sound of Hermione’s voice drew Harry back out of his stupor; the Phoenix chirped, peering at Harry with characteristically shrewd eyes.

“If it wasn’t for Fawkes,” Madam Pomfrey remarked, overhearing the exchange, “Severus would be dead.”

He didn’t look far from it, even still. Harry found himself crouching nearer to the former Headmaster, staring at his pallid, sweaty face.

“Will he live?” Harry asked faintly.

Madam Pomfrey didn’t answer at first, murmuring another string of spells. Finally, she glanced up at him, her eyes grave.

“If I can get him stable enough to Apparate before he dies here, he’ll need to go to St. Mungo’s immediately.”

Harry nodded shortly, expecting such answer, but hearing it aloud still gave him an odd feeling in his chest.

Suddenly, the shock of everything, the war, the loss of so many lives, his grief, the shock of finding out Snape was miraculously alive and still might die yet, caught up to him all at once, and exhaustion seeped over his bones in such a crushing manner that he all but swayed where he crouched.

He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, and looked up to see Ginny. “Come on, Harry,” she murmured, concern in her eyes. “There’s nothing you can do.”

————

Harry managed to find several hours of exhausted sleep in one of the salvaged dormitory beds.

He had all but fallen into the sheets and, despite his certainty that he wouldn’t find rest, collapsed  quickly under the weight of the mental and physical strain he had faced not just hours before, but also the months leading up to the battle.

He had woken to find himself alone, and wandered back down to the Great Hall. There were a lot less people there now, and similarly, a lot less bodies. It seemed that most were now healed or moved to Saint Mungo’s, and nearly all of the bodies of the dead were placed away with proper arrangements.

He had moved carefully around the Hall, dreadfully certain he would soon stumble across Snape’s dead body, but instead, Madam Pomfrey approached him first.

“Severus is at St. Mungo’s,” she had told him.

A strange and surprised relief had washed through Harry, and subsequently, he planned on going to see him. Some part of him didn’t believe it was possible, that Snape could have survived; the images of the last two times he had seen him were stained in his mind, and Harry felt like he needed to see him for himself.

Hermione and Ron insisted on going with him. Together, they walked through the wards of Saint Mungo’s, finding themselves in the Dai Llewellyn Ward for Serious Bites; all three seemed to be feeling uncomfortably reminiscent of the time they had come to the very same ward to see Arthur Weasley.

Finally, they approached one of the Healers; she was at the front of the dingy ward, and when she saw Harry, her expression had taken up the familiar amazed recognition, but only for a moment before she surveyed the three of them in a businesslike manner.

“How can I help you?”

“We’re here to see Prof— Severus Snape,” Harry said.

The Healer’s eyebrow quirked up in the slightest, as though surprised. “I see.” She looked again to Ron and Hermione, seeming to be carefully considering something. “I’m afraid I can only permit you, Mr. Potter,” she said finally.

“What? Why?” Ron spoke up.

“Mr. Snape’s legal circumstances are unique,” she explained patiently. “We’ve been instructed to allow only those from the Ministry to see him. However, Mr. Potter, seeing as you are who you are…” she allowed her sentence to trail off, for it needed no further explanation. After a second’s pause, she addressed Ron and Hermione again. “As for you two, I’m sorry, but I simply can’t allow it.”

“It’s okay,” Hermione rushed, before Ron could say anything else. She looked at Harry. “We’ll wait for you outside.”

“Okay,” Harry said. His mind was churning with the information, the words legal circumstances and only those from the Ministry sticking out in his head, but in the moment, he was unable to make sense of them, to fully process what they might mean. “See you outside.”

He parted from them there, allowing the Healer to lead the way in the opposite direction; as they walked, they passed many beds of several injured people. Harry had no doubt that all or most of them were from the recent battle, and the thought made his stomach twist with a guilt so painful that he felt sick.

Eventually, they reached a set of curtains, and the Healer peeled them back, nodding for Harry to go in.

He entered to see Snape laid in the bed, not looking much better than the last time he saw him. At least now, he was no longer covered in blood; his throat was wrapped in many bandages, and he was wearing white, a color that looked decidedly wrong on the man he was so used to seeing in black. Though his Dark Mark was exposed, its color was fading fast now, just a faint grey.

“He’s lucky to be alive,” the Healer remarked, then studied Harry shrewdly for a moment. “And if the rumors are true, so are you, Mr. Potter.”

Harry scarcely heard her, for he had wandered to the bedside, something catching his eyes — Snape’s wrists were tied, confined to the bed with magical binding. “What’s this?” he asked, looking back to the Healer, his mind once again calling attention to the odd information she had given the three of them earlier. “Why is he bound up?”

She blinked at him in surprise. “You know he’s served under You-Know-Who for the past couple of years, at least,” she said, as if it were obvious. “As soon as he’s stable enough, the Ministry is sentencing him to Azkaban.”

“But— he’s innocent,” Harry blurted, an immediate reaction that allowed him no time to think about his words before he spoke them — of course she wouldn’t know that Snape was innocent; no one did, save for a few.

The Healer was regarding him strangely. “Sir?”

“Never mind,” Harry muttered quickly, returning his gaze to his former Professor. He needed to get the memories to the Ministry as soon as possible, though it seemed he had some time before they threw Snape in Azkaban — he was far from fit enough to be sent there. “Has he — been awake yet?”

The Healer shook her head. “Not yet. His injuries are quite extensive. He seemed to have been poisoned, as well.” “Voldemort’s snake,” Harry supplied, ignoring the way the witch flinched at the name.

“Ah, yes,” she murmured. “That’s what we were told — we had seen nothing else like it, not since Arthur Weasley. Not many who encountered You-Know-Who’s snake lived to tell the tale.”

This made an uncomfortable chill go down Harry’s spine. He watched the faint rise and fall of Snape’s chest.

“So, you were there when he was attacked?” The Healer asked, a note of timid curiosity in her voice.

Harry remembered vividly the sound Snape’s body made as it was thrown against the glass from the force of Nagini’s striking, over and over and over again, the amount of blood pouring from his throat, soaking his robes…

You have your mother’s eyes.

Harry ripped himself from the memories and finally looked away from where Snape lay, blinking at the Healer. “I thought he was dead,” he answered simply, assuming that would be all the response she needed.

She nodded, her gaze thoughtful. “It’s a miracle he isn’t.” After a second longer, she moved towards the curtains to leave. “If you need anything—”

“Actually, I’ll be going too,” Harry broke in, not impolitely. “I’ve just realized I’ve got something important I need to do…” He glanced at Snape once again, determination glinting in his eyes. Snape had saved his life several times over; he’d loved his mother, for all these years — Harry owed it to him to work his hardest to let everyone know the truth about the man, that he was a hero all these years, not a Death Eater.

————

What came to Severus’s awareness first was the noise.

He heard the murmur of voices, the bustling of light activity.

Next came the pain, the dull aching in his neck, traveling seemingly throughout his veins; then the heaviness of his eyes. With effort, he opened them, and flinched from the bright whiteness of everything; curtains surrounded him, oddly familiar.

Under his mounting awareness, panic thrummed in his heart; having thought himself dead, he was surprised to find himself obviously living, and was even more disturbed that he wasn’t altogether sure where he was; he tried to move his arm only for it to be jerked back, confined by what he dimly recognized as magic binding around his wrist.

“Professor,” said a voice, filled with surprise; it was a voice he would always know.

He turned his head, a searing pain scorching through his neck at the movement, and his gaze finally found Potter, sitting beside the bed he was in. There were too many lines on his face for his age, and he was wearing dark circles under his eyes, a testament to his lack of sleep— his eyes… the green of them stared out at him with concern so much like Lily’s.

Severus ripped his gaze away from the boy, back to the sheets of the bed he was in, now recognizable to him as St. Mungo’s.

“How?” he murmured.

“Fawkes,” Harry said. He swallowed. “I suppose he found you, sometime during the battle.”

Flashes of memories tore through Severus’ mind; the Dark Lord’s face; a burning gash across his throat; Nagini, striking him over and over again.

Potter, staring at him with Lily’s eyes as he died, not a trace of his father’s cruelty in him.

“You,” he clarified aloud, a question still in his voice, which didn’t sound quite right, even to him. Speaking caused pain like fire to burn across his throat and down his neck. He finally returned his gaze to Harry, who was blinking at him in surprise, wearing the same expression as when Severus called on him unexpectedly in class. “You survived.”

“Oh,” Harry said, understanding. “I went to the forest, to let him kill me, and he did… but not really. He killed the horcrux, I suppose — but I lived.”

Severus absorbed this information, dimly noting how little of it answered his question, but not having the energy to voice his irritation aloud. Instead, his gaze flitted downwards once again, this time with enough awareness to take in details; his black robes were gone, and instead he had been donned in white. His forearms were exposed, his Dark Mark revealed to the world — except now, it was nearly faded completely, leaving only the outline where it had been burned into his skin.

His gaze lingered on his left forearm, taking in the near absence of the Mark tainting his skin, and with sudden abruptness, it hit him fully that the Dark Lord must truly be gone.

The idea seemed like an utterly impossible reality, and it took several moments of staring at his skin before he allowed himself to feel a tremendous weight lift off of his shoulders that gave way to a relief that — had he been standing — would have brought him to his knees.

“You did it, then,” he said softly, his eyes moving back to Harry.

“Not just me,” he murmured, sounding years older than he should. Despite everything, the words shocked Severus, some part of him still expecting the boy to jump on the chance for praise with a hubris that mimicked his father’s. “If it wasn’t for Ron, Hermione, and Neville getting rid of some of the Horcruxes…”

Harry let his sentence trail off, and silence washed over the room. Severus’s gaze flickered away from the boy and fell once again to the bindings around his wrists; both of them were confined, he realized now.

He peered at them for a long moment in resigned contemplation. He knew, and perhaps he had known for several minutes now, what they were for, why he was bound. It was something he had considered happening many times, and yet also he had never considered the thought of him living long enough to meet the consequences that awaited him now.

“Azkaban?” he murmured.

Harry blinked at him in surprise before insisting, “I’m not going to let them.” The annoying and naive stubbornness that Severus remembered so well was making a flaring appearance in the boy’s tone. “I’m working with the Ministry, telling them the truth. You won’t go there.”

Severus absorbed his words, pondering them, but was unwilling to speak aloud any more. No matter if they believed the memories hadn’t been tampered with; he was still responsible for Dumbledore’s murder, along with a number of other things.

Deeply doubting the likelihood of his salvation, he closed his eyes, half succumbing to the sea of exhaustion he was swimming in and half wishing Fawkes had just left him to die.

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter!

I’m also posting this story to ao3, where it can be found here.

Tag-list: @madamecoyote (Thank you again for beta reading!) @eruditeslytherin 

[oatsn-honey]

simple words

Masterlist

Summary:  Zelda was concerned for him -- he had been awfully quiet that day. She wondered, "Is this the breaking point?" (zelink, post-botw, zelda pov)

Hiya! So, I just got botw, and I am now officially o b s e s s e d (seriously, send help). I thought that I would give writing for this amazing game a shot, so without further delay, enjoy!

~~~~~~

We had been sitting outside his home for a while, listening to the fire crackling and watching the sun slowly disappear off the horizon. While it was indeed serine, I still worried. He had been awfully quiet today -- since the fall of the poisoning malice, he had begun to open up more, acting silly and showing his emotions. I tapped my wooden pencil against my leather-bound notebook, sighing softly and turning to gaze at him. His knees were pulled up to his chest, and he had his arms wrapped around them. His head rested against his knees, disheveled blonde hair cascading down.

I stared a while longer, my eyebrows furrowing, studying how the fading sunlight illuminated his body’s outline and grazed his face with ethereal glow, bouncing from his freckled skin. I turned to a blank page in my notebook, hoping to capture the picture. I bit the inside of my cheek, and with silent fervor began to doodle. I managed to finish sketching out the drawing just as the first stars began to litter the sky. I wanted desperately to show him, but felt off about doing so. So instead, after refining the drawing somewhat, I began to aimlessly map out some Guardian parts.

Suddenly, accentuated with a shaky breath, he turns to me, “Zelda,” he whispers, glancing up at me through his long bangs, “Do you ever feel your chest and heart convulse with the need to cry… but you just… can’t?” I inhaled sharply, surprised by his abrupt words, but remained silent. I could tell there was something else he wanted to say.

I stealthily slid closer to him, leaving my book and pencil behind. My body gently nudged his, and I felt him flinch, but I did not back away. “W-well, I guess I do know what you mean,” I started awkwardly, gulping, “kind of.” He spared me a questioning look. I continued, “What makes you feel this way, Link?” I knew I was never the best at providing comfort to others, but I would try. Before he could start speaking, I tagged on a firm, but kind reminder, “I’m always here to listen to you.”

He hid away, his words muffled, “I-I just… I’m- I’m so l-lonely,” he stuttered, voice weak. “I don’t even know w-why. I have you, and- and I just…,” his voice broke, “I’m so…”

My lips made a grim line. Sighing softly, my silky strands moving with the exhalation of breath, I closed the small gap between us, my hand nudging his leg. Several silent moments passed.

Eventually, my fingers brushed his cheek. I tenderly cupped his face, and he lifted his head just enough for his eyes to peek through his messy bangs. We locked gazes and I stared, entranced, into his ocean orbs, the sea color crashing with waves of built up emotions trying to spill over the edge of a wall. Tears pooled in the corners, and I felt my stomach clench and heart ache. He took a shuddering breath. “Zelda, I’m so sad.”

I dropped my hand from his freckle-splattered cheek and I swallowed, unsure of what to say, “I-I’m,” I snapped my mouth closed. My silence was deafening, and soon he was curling further into himself, shoulders quaking as silent cries racked his body. Tears dripped slowly down my face as I stared at my trembling hands. What was I supposed to do?

I couldn’t take it anymore. I launched myself forward, wrapping my arms around his shaking body and pulling him into me, “Link, Link, I’m so sorry,” I whispered into his hair as he clutched the front of my shirt.

The dam broke. Tears spurted from his eyes and his body trembled with labored, rapid breathing. He rubbed his palms on his face, sobs racking his body and making his voice jump, “Zelda, help, I’m tired of being sad! I’m tired of feeling alone! Nothing matters and everything matters! Everyday is a struggle, and I just can’t keep going! I-I,” He choked on his words leaning into my embrace, “I’m not good enough! Everything is always my fault! Maybe if I had trained harder or had been more careful, none of this would’ve happened -- I would’ve stopped Ganon one hundred years ago, and then maybe-maybe I wouldn’t be so lonely!” He tried to breathe, chest heaving.

“I’m so afraid. And I’m so confused.” He weeped into my shirt, soaking it with his tears.

“I know,” I uttered, trying to silence my own crying.

“Where are all of these emotions coming from?! There are so many of them!” He yelled, causing my heart to wrench painfully.

“I-I know.”

“They’re eating me up! Controlling my life! They make my heart burn, and they make me sick,” He gasped into my drenched shirt, “I make myself sick. I hate myself so much. Why am I even alive? I don’t want to live like this anymore, I don’t want to live, I-” He couldn’t say anymore, and curled into me, hands clenching the material of my clothes tighter. After several minutes of grieving, with whimpers falling from his lips, he spoke hoarsely, “What do I do, Zelda?”

“I don’t know,” I sniveled, failure and helplessness bubbling in my chest. I hugged him tighter, crying into his golden locks.

He looked up at me, eyes swollen and bloodshot, tears dripping from his chin, face flushed, and eyes so pained, and breathed, “I just want to be happy.”

~~~~~~

“Zelda, I’m so sad,” Is what he had said, broken down and sobbing openly for the first time in our long lives. I had told him, “I know,” and tried to convince him (and myself) that I truly understood what was happening. But, did I? I don’t think I did fully, no. I was confused, just as he, and didn’t know how to help. I had certainly felt that, the helplessness, before. Perhaps it was the most common emotion in my life. But, knowing that I had no way to provide true, immediate comfort to my friend, my love, was truly heartbreaking. Even more so, I had to accept that these feelings of his weren’t new, certainly not. They had been present long before the Calamity. He had been suffering this for longer than he could literally remember. And I was utterly oblivious. That was the epitome of uselessness.

~~~~~~

Dismal. Sorrowful. Despairing. Despondent. Heartbroken. Distressed. Doleful. Grieved. Somber. Wistful. Dejected.

There were so many words he could’ve used. So many words that conveyed so much more. But, he said “I’m so sad.” Sad. What does that word even mean? What does it mean to be truly sad? The way it seemed to me, that small snippet of a word was a mashed up combination of every word, and so many more, listed above that could only be described as the word it was; sad.

That three letter word held more power than the Calamity itself. It could break the strongest of soldiers with a single, undetectable blow. Did it break my knight? I wondered if there was any word that was strong enough to combat it. A word capable of overpowering it and bring another simple word to light; happy. That was another word he had used -- “I just want to be happy.”

Could a word even simpler than sad prevail? That would be the test, the hope. For the word that was put against the formidable three letters was I. I would fight his sadness. I was determined to see him smile and hear him laugh. I was going to piece him back together, even if it was the last thing I did. I was going to love Link. And he was going to be happy.

~~~~~~

Hopefully it wasn't too sad haha. Also, this is a bit of an experiment, because I’ve never written in a character’s pov, so hopefully it wasn’t too bad. To be honest, this was a vent fic I wrote at 3 am, so I don't expect it to be all that good. But, I do have another Zelda fic coming out, so stay tuned! Well, that's all for today. Have a great day, and eat and drink plenty! <3

(p.s. let me know if you're interested in a second chapter for this)

[jinterlude]

Fight for Me (Ch.5)

↳Story Header © @softjeon (do not steal this header!)

➵ Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Female OC (feat. Kwon Ji Yong)

➵ Genre(s): Historic!AU, Medieval!AU , Royalty!AU, Knight!AU, Romance, SMUT, Humor, & Angst

➵ SMUT Warning(s):  Foreplay & Penetration

➵ Words: 5.5K

➵ Summary: Once upon a time, there was a not-so-traditional kingdom. In that kingdom, the royal family had the freedom of marrying whoever his or her royal highness deems worthy. Now, of course, having that special privilege came with some interesting challenges, but that doesn’t stop a certain head-strong princess from doing whatever her heart’s desire, especially when she has her heart set on marrying her personal bodyguard. Unfortunately, her beliefs might face some hardships when a certain king sets his eye on her. Will her bodyguard continue to fight for her or is it finally her turn?

※ Previously: ch.1 | ch.2 | ch.3 | ch.4

※ Next Time: ch.6 | final chapter

Chapter 5: A Knight vs. A King

Previously

Seokjin rubbed his nose against her cheek sweetly and said no.

           “Then do not tease me, my dear knight!” Sumin poked his cheek as the two neared the entrance of the dining room.

Seokjin simply laughed in response, “I would never, my sweet princess.” He then untwined their fingers. “Now, enjoy supper. If you are good princess and tell your father about our decision, then I might visit your chambers this evening.” He whispered the last part in her ear.

Sumin felt a rush of pleasure as soon as he whispered that.

           “Maybe if you are good knight and behave while King Ji Yong is doing his best to antagonize you, then I might let you.” She teased back, smiling alluring at the knight as she walked away.

Seokjin could have sworn he felt his crotch area tightened. The thought of them being alone and intimate in her chambers sent his hormones into a wild frenzy.

Unfortunately, for them, someone else was listening in on their conversation.

           “A midnight rendezvous? We shall see about that, my dear princess.”

With eyes glued onto the silver plates, an awkward tension filled the dining hall. Nothing but the sounds of the royal string quartet, playing a light yet soothing melody, and the fire emitted a couple of crackles as Sumin pushed around her roasted vegetables with her fork.

Not only she felt the predatory gaze from King Ji Yong, but also a pressured stare from her knight. Honestly, it would have been better if she had not fallen in love. Her father never made a rule against a member of the royal ruling the kingdom by him or herself.

Why not Sumin? Her father had told her stories of her great great-aunt ruling the kingdom by herself, and it turned out for the better―granted…that the kingdom experienced a few months of despair and utter sadness, but that was the beside the point.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sumin’s father noticed a solemn expression painted on her face. He briefly made eye-contact with his wife, and she too noticed the odd expression on their daughter’s face. The royal couple gazed upon each other as if they read each other’s mind on what they should do or even say. Then, after a couple more moments of silence, the king spoke.

           “Daughter, is there something wrong with your dinner?” He paused, beckoning for one of the servants to come to him. “Would you like the cook to fix you up something even yummier?” He asked as he took a tiny sip of the sweet wine.

Sumin lifted her head, shaking it as she quickly denied that something was wrong with her food.

           “I guess I am simply not hungry, father.” She added, smiling warmly at him.

Sumin’s father raised a brow, finding it odd that his daughter did not have an appetite.

           “My daughter not hungry? I find that quite amusing. Tell me, what is on your mind that caused a sudden loss of hunger?” He asked, hating the fact that his daughter distracted and seemed a bit distant.

A short sigh exited her lips as Sumin glanced at Seokjin, establishing eye-contact briefly, before directing her attention back to her father.

           “Father, I am sure that you have grown tired of my indecisiveness, but I swear to you on the Holy Father that this will be my sudden change of heart.” She began; her chest heaved slightly as the nerves settled in the pit of her stomach.

Both her father and morning leaned in their seats, unsure where the direction of the conversation headed.

Sumin’s mother gestured for her to continue and so she did.

           “I know Seokjin and I have changed our decision countless of times, but this time we are completely serious. We are ready to become betrothed to one another and proceed with the next steps.” She announced, feeling a tiny weight lifted off her shoulders.

Sumin’s father eyed his daughter as he tapped his chin. Was his daughter playing tricks on him yet again? Had she and her knight finally made up their minds and hearts? Was he going to live to see his only daughter—his pride and joy―wed? Thank, the Lord.

With his index and middle fingers, the king gestured for Seokjin to come hither.

Seokjin bowed his head and walked up to the dining table, secretly feeling triumphant as he secured Sumin’s heart and their future together.

Ji Yong on the other hand did not see that as a loss. If anything, he merely saw it as humongous obstacle and now? It was time for drastic measures.

His ears tuned into the happy discussion, but his mind and heart drifted somewhere else. His evil mind began plotting a plan that would result with Sumin has his wife. His heart focused on how beautiful Sumin looked; her appearance enhanced even more as the fire dimmed in the room. It was because of that Ji Yong started to imagine what she would look like in complete darkness. With the moon illuminating their chambers, he could picture her magnificent breasts as her face contorted in pleasure. The pleasure that he so happily gave her.

God…just that mere thought got him excited. It also did not help that his lips still tingled from their passionate kiss in the library. He had tiny taste of her, and he desired more. He wanted to feel her precious lips all over his body. He even wanted to see them wrapped around his hardened length as she bobbed her head slowly; the pleasure that only crescendos.  

The more he indulged in his naughty thoughts, the more he failed to realize that Sumin and Seokjin had excused themselves.

Finally—he pulled himself out of them.

           “Excuse me. I need to fetch myself some fresh air.” Ji Yong announced, pushing his chair back. He bowed his head before walking out of the hall. Sumin’s parents watched Ji Yong until he disappeared from their sight. A long sigh escaped both their lips as they could not help but worry for their daughter’s happiness.

Even with them discussing future wedding plans, Ji Yong did not seem bothered by it. If anything, he simply ignored it.

Something about the arrogant king did not settle with them whatsoever. Sumin’s father had recalled what the other kings had gossiped about King Ji Yong countless of times, and they always said that he would stop at nothing to obtain what his heart desires. He would even declare war if deemed necessary.

Sumin’s father was not sure if his body could handle an all-out war with another kingdom at his age. He was not frail, but he was not young either. Time, like everything else, always had interesting plans for the living—so he silently prayed that time would show him mercy.

As the waves crashed against the cliff , and the slight breeze that danced across the courtyard, Sumin and Seokjin walked leisurely towards their favorite spot—the garden. Oh, the garden held many wonderful memories for them. It was the place where they shared their first mud war. Sumin won most of them. It was the place where they confessed their romantic feelings for one another. They also indulged in their first kiss—and their second kiss. Now, the garden would soon hold another fond memory—the day the two of them would wed.

With the full Summer moon as their spotlight, and the sounds of laughter that emitted from them, the two lovers began reminiscing of the day their first met.

           “Are you sure, my beloved? I for one remember that day quite differently.” Sumin said as her thoughts drifted back to the day when she was only a little girl. Her father had presented her a horse for her sixth birthday—along with a certain newly appointed stable boy.

Dawning a hunter green dress, Sumin bunched the skirt up enough to stop tripping over it when she tried to keep up with her father. She was short, and her father was a giant in comparison. She had to run after him if she wanted to stay by his side.

           “Father! Where are we going? I thought mother said I was not allowed to see my presents until after tonight’s ball?” Sumin asked as she continued to rush after her father.

A short chuckle escaped his mouth as Sumin’s father made a sudden halt near the garden entryway. He did an about face and crouched down, pushing his cape out of the way. He held out his arms and waited for the arrival of his daughter.

Seeing his arms wide open, a bright smile graced her face as Sumin ran full force into his chest, loving the warmth and love he radiated.

Sumin’s father stood up with his daughter secured against his side and entered the garden.

           “I know that your mother wanted you to wait until after your birthday ball, but I could not.” Sumin’s father replied as the two ventured deeper inside the garden.

Sumin tilted her head slightly and just as she opened her mouth to ask another question, the sounds of horses neighing captured her attention.

Her eyes lit up instantly as her eyes caught sight of two beautiful horses. One was brown and the other white.

           “Father, are those horses for me?” She asked, wanting to make sure she had been tasked to giving them away to another royal family as a gift.

Her father chuckled once again as he graciously placed her down.

           “Yes, my child. Those horses belong to you and…” He paused, whistling for his most trusted stable worker to come forth. “This newly appointed stable boy will now work underneath you. He will be taking care of your horses just like his father takes care of mine.” He finished as the stable worker and his son come into full view.

Sumin turned around; her eyes trailed the boy up and down. A faint blush appeared upon her cheeks as she found the stable boy quite handsome. His lips were plump. His eyes dripped with eagerness and charisma. In short, her ideal man.

           “Princess Sumin, may I introduce my son, Kim Seokjin, to you.” The stable worker then pushed his son towards her; the child’s nose almost bumped into hers.

Sumin held out her hand for the boy to kiss, but instead she got…

           “Father, I thought you said that I would find the princess quite beautiful? She looks like a boy.” Seokjin blurted out, unknowingly insulting the princess in the process.

Seokjin’s father’s jaw dropped just a bit. He could not believe that his son chose now to be a smart mouth.

Sumin’s father, on the other hand, found the boy quite hilarious. He definitely made a perfect fit for his daughter. Someone needed to keep her head placed firmly on her shoulders. Oh…he could not wait until they expressed romantic interests in one another.

           “My deepest apologies, your highness. My son apparently lost his mind.” Seokjin’s father quickly said, bowing his head apologetically.

Sumin clenched her jaw as her eyes became slits. She took back what she said about Seokjin. He was rude and no way on this Earth would she ever fall in love with him.

           “Sumin, what do you say when someone apologizes?” She heard her father ask, pulling her out her never-ending rants.

Sumin peered up at her father, “I say that he or she is forgiven, and no offense was taken…” She muttered.

Sumin’s father nodded, “Good. Now, tell Seokjin that.”

Sumin let out a long whine as she kicked the stone pathway. She then looked up to her father, who—in return—gave her a stern expression and gestured her towards Seokjin.

She directed her attention towards the stable boy, and just as she opened her mouth to accept the apology—a devious idea planted in her mind.

She mustered the sweetest smile ever and held out hand, waiting for him to shake it.

Seokjin eyed her hand oddly, sensing this questionable aura around the princess, but ignored it since his father would whoop him if he offended the princess yet again.

He slowly extended out his hand, closing the gap an inch at a time, and just as their fingertips touched, Seokjin felt a sharp pain shoot up his arm.

A loud shout came out of his mouth as Sumin forcibly bent his fingers back. She then hooked her leg around his and managed to trip him. She climbed on top of him, and the two children began to wrestle in the grass.

The two fathers watched their offspring with such amusement as they found it funny that the two children just met and already playing as if they had been friends since birth.

           “You still look like a boy!” Seokjin taunted as he struggled to fend off the high-tempered princess.

           “So? I rather look like a boy and hit like one instead of looking like and hitting like a girl!” Sumin retorted as she managed to pin the poor boy down—in mud.

Seokjin growled and used up all his strength to turn the tides. Sadly, that had been proven futile. Sumin inherited her incredible stubbornness from her mother. Allowing the enemy to have the upper hand was not in Sumin’s book.

Before the two of them could be completely covered in muck, the fathers finally intervened, easily pulling them off of each other.

           “Well, I had to have to say that this has been quite an eventful first meeting, don’t you agree, Master Kim?” Sumin’s father asked, holding his daughter tightly against his legs.

Master Kim laughed, “I agree, your majesty. I think my son has finally found his match.”

Sumin’s father laughed as well, nodding in his head, while Sumin and Seokjin merely stuck their tongues at each other.

           “Maybe we can invite Seokjin to your birthday gala as a special guest? What do you say, my precious jewel?” Her father asked Sumin, causing the young girl to stop with the taunts.

Sumin gawked, “I rather invite a humpback whale.”

           “Why? You are already there, princess…” Seokjin said, smirking smugly.

           “Why I ought to!” She shouted as she escaped her father’s clutches and tackled Seokjin back to the ground.

           “I wonder how their friendship will play out if they are already this close to one another?”

           “Forget the friendship, their romantic bond shall be one interesting event to witness.”

His body ached at that not-so-fond memory. Seokjin had yet to wrap his head around the fact that Sumin managed to pin him down like it was nothing.

Sumin, on the other, smiled proudly to herself. Not only did she prove her handsome knight wrong, but she had the opportunity to remember the day she won her first match with the boy.

Seokjin rested his hand on top of hers as he placed a sweet kiss on her cheek.

           “I still cannot believe that this garden always had mud laying around.” He said; his eyes scanned the garden, taking note of the many tiny mud piles.

Sumin giggled softly, “Maybe the palace gardeners knew that you and I liked to play in the mud when we were only mere children.”

Seokjin shook his head softly before resting his chin on his princess’s shoulder.

           “We shared many firsts here, and would you like to know what is my favorite?” He asked, placing a soft kiss on her weak spot—the base of her neck.

A soft sigh left her lips as Sumin turned to face her beloved.

           “What?” She asked softly, practically a whisper.            

           “This.” He whispered as he cupped her cheek sweetly and captured her lips.

Sumin closed her eyes and placed her free hand on the back of his neck. She pulled him closer as the kiss slowly intensified. It was if their minds synchronized with each other.

Seokjin’s tongue lightly brushed against her bottom, causing the young princess to emit a tiny moan.

Just that tiny moan alone excited him. He placed his hands on her lower back and pulled her closer, as if that was even possible. His fingers played with the strings of her dress, wanting nothing more to undo them. However, he stopped himself. The back of his mind telling him that there was someone watching. A certain someone that kissed his princess earlier. That someone being the king that failed in obtaining Sumin’s hand in marriage. King Ji Yong.

Not wanting to give the scheming king another second of their romantic moment, Seokjin pulled away.

           “I think it is time for the princess to retire to her chambers for the night.” He then leaned close to her ear, his lips practically pressed against it. “I also think, it is time for a certain knight to pay said princess a visit.” He whispered alluringly; his hot breath sent shivers up her spine.

Not being able to form words let alone a full sentence, Sumin simply nodded with a dreamy like smile written on her face.

Seokjin could not help but find Sumin absolutely adorable. He did not think he would cause her to become this mindless, lovesick person but then again, she had that effect on him. She just did not know it yet.

Taking her hand gently into his as he stood up, Seokjin bowed his head and asked permission if he could escort her back to her chambers. Of course, Sumin gave him permission but smacked him lightly on the shoulder for being rather embarrassing.

Seokjin placed his free hand over his heart and feigned being insulted.

           “Well, I guess the princess can find her way back to her chambers by herself.” He said firmly, untangling their fingers from one another.

Sumin cocked up her brow and gave him a look before shrugging and walking away.

Seokjin’s mouth became agape as he watched the love of his life retreat. He quickly snapped back into his senses and chased after the woman.

He easily caught up with her and grabbed her waist, causing the girl to laugh.

           “Who gave you permission to leave me?” He asked; his tone tinted with slight darkness.

Sumin only smirked in response before removing his hands from her body. Then, she walked away from him, halting underneath the archway of the garden entrance. She peered over her shoulder and with an alluring smile painted on her face, she said,

           “Why not follow me to my chambers, and I shall tell you the answer?”

Seokjin felt his hormones awaken. His lover knew how to rile him up to the point of him wanting to pin her against the wall and devour her lips as his hands traced every curvature on her body―her naked body.

Not even a second later, he pursued after her, loving their little game they played whenever they felt the need to spice up their romance. God, Seokjin could only imagine what actual sex with Sumin would be like. Maybe tonight was the night. The night two hearts become one.

As Seokjin disappeared off into the night, trailing after the owner of his heart, a certain king finally emerges from his hiding spot. His blood boiled after having to endure such a disgusting sight.

Ji Yong clenched his fists as his mind became plagued with the scene of Seokjin and Sumin kissing one another. His lowly hands embracing the temple that was her body. His sweet whispers that invaded her ears. Everything about this night sickened him. Ji Yong felt incredibly jealous and possessive over Sumin, and to witness her loving someone pathetic knight pissed him off.

A loud growl emitted from his mouth as Ji Yong suddenly unsheathed his sword and swung violently. His sword managed to cut a few branches from a nearby bush.

Ji Yong eyed the fallen branch; his furious mind pretended that it was Seokjin’s head. Then―as if something possessed him—Ji Yong calmly sheathed his sword, inhaled then exhaled nice and slow, and stared off into the distance as the nightly sea-breeze fanned his face.

           “I am going to miss this kingdom…” He thought evilly to himself as his brain concocted the most devious plan that would ensure Sumin’s hand in marriage. Too bad that Seokjin would not be in attendance. Don’t you love war?

Currently brushing out the knots in her hair, Sumin hummed a little tune to herself as the night breeze entered her room. The soft blow brushed past her curtains and flowed right by her, causing the hairs on her arm to stand up.

The sounds of a fire crackling filled her body with nothing but relaxation. She did not understand why something so little as the sound of fire crackling put her mind at ease, but it did. That was until a light knock on her door interrupted it. Just that tiny knock caused butterflies to flutter in the pit of her belly.

She muttered a quick enter before undoing the first bow of her nightgown. She pulled it apart just a smidge, enough to show a bit of cleavage as her eyes stared at the door in anticipation.

Slowly, a familiar face appeared in her sight. Then, his entire body came into full view.

Her eyes widened and her mouth agape once she saw his appearance. Instead of his usual knightly attire, which consisted mainly of metal covering his entire torso, he now wore a light cotton shirt, black pants, a belt that was lazily tied around his waist, and riding boots. His hair was even messy.

Something about his unprofessional appearance aroused Sumin to the point that she captured his lips and untucked his shirt.

Seokjin sighed into the kiss as his arms wrapped around her waist. He then carried her bridal-style and walked over to the bed.

He broke the kiss, for only a second; his eyes bore into hers.

The emotion in his eyes were purely lust and love. Nothing else mattered to him except one thing—giving her his virginity and taking hers in return.

Without saying a word, he undid the belt and dropped it onto the floor, creating a loud clink. He pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his well-toned chest, and tossed it aside.

Sumin continued to eye him innocently, though, her core told a different story. Her clit ached—begged to be touched by him. She closed her thighs together, hoping the tightness would distract her aching core, but it only made it worse.

His brow raised just a smidge as Seokjin heard a few tiny moans come from his princess. Her innocent eyes remained on his as he quickly kicked off his boots, not wanting to keep his woman waiting any longer. He undid the buttons of his pants, though, not taking them off.

A tiny whine left her lips as Sumin hoped to see what lied underneath. She hadn’t seen his friend since the night of her party. It had been too long.

           “Are you teasing me, my knight?” She asked with an alluring smile.

Seokjin merely smirked as he walked over to her fireplace and threw water on it; the sound of sizzles entered the room.

Nothing but the moonlight illuminated her chambers as Sumin’s breathing grew heavy from anticipation. Then, she felt a shift in her bed.

Before she could say a word, her cheeks were cupped followed by an innocent kiss on her lips.

Seokjin pulled away; his lips still hovered over hers.

           “I know waiting for our wedding night is the proper action to take, but I simply cannot. I need you, Sumin.” He lightly rubbed her lips with his, “Please, tell me that you feel the same way.” He whispered softly as his heart pounded against his chest.

Sumin stared at him for a moment. Then, instead of speaking, she passionately kissed him. She poured every ounce of love and want she had for the man. She too wanted him in every possible way.

She quickly undid the rest of the strings and slid the nightgown of her shoulders. She pushed the sleeves down until her arms were free.

With her breasts in full view, something in Seokjin snapped. He devoured her lips again as he gently pushed her onto the mattress.

A soft moan escaped her lips as Seokjin’s hands trailed up and down her thighs, igniting a tiny trail of fire with each passing.

Sumin didn’t know what possessed her, but she lifted up her leg and hooked it around his waist.

Her core pressed into his crotch, creating this friction that only left an intense desire.

           “I need you, Seokjin…” She begged softly as he directed his lips away from her lips and onto her neck.

Seokjin smirked against her skin, pausing in his little assault. He lifted his head; his lust filled gaze met hers.

           “Did I just hear the princess beg for me?” He teased as his fingers teased her entrance.

Sumin whined, feeling his thumb graze over her clit, “Y-yes…”

Seokjin pushed one finger into her, loving how wet she had become just by his kisses alone. He added another one before slowly pumping his index and middle fingers in and out.

Sumin gasped in pleasure as she tilted her head and arched her back, giving Seokjin a full view of her hardened nipples.

           “Damn…” He mentally cursed as he licked his lips.

Tiny moans left one by one as Sumin felt something in the pit of her stomach. A feeling she hadn’t experienced since their one night alone in the abandoned room.

Feeling her walls constrict against his fingers, Seokjin quickened his pace as his lips attached to hers, swallowing her moans as they grown louder.

His fingers pumped in and out of her. His thumb vigorously rubbed her clit.

God, feeling her like this made him want to pleasure himself—and so he did. Seokjin reached inside his pants and wrapped his free hand around his aching member. He matched the pace of his fingers as the urge to release soon came over him.

He pumped her and himself one last time before small strips of white landed on the inside of his pants. Her juices coated his fingers as both Seokjin and Sumin breathed heavily.

Sumin sat up and showered his bare shoulder with tiny pecks as she watched him suck the juices off his finger.

           “I shall never forget the taste of my princess for as long as I live.” Seokjin announced, smirking.

Sumin shook her head before kissing his plump lips slowly yet teasingly.

           “I wish I could have tasted you, Seokjin…” She pouted cutely as her hands played with his pants, wanting nothing more to take them off. She messed with the waistband as her fingers slowly disappeared inside, but not reaching his cock quite yet.

A soft chuckle left his lips as he couldn’t help but shake his head. His princess always loved hinting rather than telling.

Finally taking the hint, Seokjin pushed down his pants and kicked them off the bed. He then removed the nightgown completely from her body. He bunched the light clothing material and tossed it over his shoulder.

Sumin couldn’t help but giggle at his childish act; however, it was short lived. Her body was pinned underneath him; her wrists were positioned above her head.

Her breasts pressed against his chest as his knee settled in between her thighs.

A blanket silence covered the room as the two lovers remained still, staring into each other’s souls. This moment of intimacy had officially become intense. Lying in silence as with their naked bodies in complete view was honestly special to them.

Sure, they shared acts of intimacy as they had touched each other’s bodies as lovers, but right now? It was different. Neither one of them could explain it, but their hearts knew what this was. Their minds knew what this was. No words were needed.

Slowly, Seokjin lowered himself down as he used his free hand to pump his member.

In a matter of seconds, he was erect again. He then checked to see if Sumin was ready to receive him, and she was.

           “My deepest apologies, my princess, but this might hurt you for a bit or at least feel uncomfortable. I will not act any further without your consent, okay?” He said softly and sweetly as he teased her entrance with his tip.

Sumin smiled warmly at him and nodded her head. Again, no words were needed. Not anymore.

Seokjin released his hold on her wrists as he cupped her chin, tilting her head up slightly. He kissed her lips sweetly; his tongue entered her mouth, as slowly pushed himself inside her.

Sumin’s face slowly contorted in discomfort. She felt her walls stretch the more he entered her. His size wasn’t helping either. It wasn’t like he was humongous, but he wasn’t tiny.

She breathed heavily through her nostrils as Seokjin pulled out and then entered once more. He repeated that action even though she didn’t give him permission to do so.

Eventually, the feeling of discomfort vanished. Then, only a ping of pleasure was left. That tiny ping had been enough for Sumin to give him permission to move faster, which he did.

His thrusts sped up as both the warmth and wetness riled his sex drive to the point that he just had to take her. His mind went into a frenzy as he thought of nothing else but to make Sumin moan and come undone again.

Her moans increased in volume as the sounds bounced off the stone walls of her room. In her state of mind, she didn’t care if someone heard, especially that stupid King Ji Yong. Little did she know… she would regret that feeling since he found himself wandering around near her room when he heard the sounds of passionate lovemaking.

Curiosity got the best of him as he peeped through the keyhole and saw that lowly knight having sex with his future-wife. Yup…seeing them like that solidified his plan. Now, it was time to execute it.

Ji Yong stepped away from the door just as he heard Seokjin manage to tell Sumin that he loved her.

           “I l-love you too…Seokjin…” Sumin managed to say through her endless moans and pants.

Seokjin smiled as he lifted her leg and rested it on his wide shoulder. He then leaned forward, loving the new angle that they were in as he continued his thrusting.

It was thanks to this angle that Sumin began to see stars. His cock managed to hit her g-spot here and there, sending waves of pleasure throughout her body. She craved more. She needed more.

           “Hit that s-spot again, my beloved.” She moaned out as she fisted the sheets.

Seokjin simply nodded and did as he was told. He tried his hardest to hit that special spot repeatedly; however, if he couldn’t, the he resorted in rubbing her clit. Now, that spot got her a moaning mess—and he loved every second of it.

Sounds of moaning and skin-on-skin contact continued to fill the room as it seemed like hours had gone by since they first began. Honestly, they didn’t care how long it had been since their hearts were telling them that this might be the last time they would be this intimate. At the same, they paid little to no attention to what their hearts were saying because lust had taken control. What mattered was that they were together now.

The pleasure became too much as one more thrust would make Sumin see white, and Seokjin felt the same.

           “R-ready to cum for me, princess?” He grunted as his thrusts slowly became sloppy.

Sumin only nodded as her intellect disappeared hours ago.

With one last thrust, Seokjin released inside of her while Sumin released all over him; their juices mixed with one another. His thrusts had become incredibly sloppy as he emptied himself before collapsing on top of Sumin.

Sumin panted heavily as she absentmindedly played with Seokjin’s sweaty hair.

Seokjin sighed in content before mustering the remaining strength he had left to pull out of her. The moment he did that, he instantly missed her warmth.

He then lazily rolled over to the right side of the bed and pulled her tainted sheets over them.

           “It occurred to me that we need to explain to your nurse about your sheets.” Seokjin mumbled as he draped his arm over Sumin’s bare waist.

Sumin gave him look, though he couldn’t see it.

           “What do you ‘we need to explain’? I am more than likely going to explain it to her myself while you magically disappear.” She stated as Seokjin leaned down to lightly bite her nose.

           “How about this…you explain to the nurse and I will ask your parents for an audience to discuss wedding plans.” He suggested; his fingers lightly caressed her skin.

Sumin closed her eyes as they had grown to heavy too keep open and simply hummed in response.

           “I love you, my one and only princess. The keeper of my heart. My everything.” He whispered sweetly before drifting off towards dreamland, where his mind could finally rest and think about nothing else, but a married life with Sumin.

Except… there was something wrong with that plan…

           Who said that it would be his married life with Sumin?

A/N: Okay for the life of me, I could not figured out how to label the last smut warning. I mean, I settled for “penetration” because that’s what Sumin & Seokjin did. Let’s be real here! LOL I’ll change it, if you guys feel that it is not correct. Maybe I’ll just change it to “sex scene” though... I think that’s what “SMUT” entails. Agh... this is frustrating me. Anyway, I hope you guys like it! We are nearing the end of this series, and that means that the release of the sequel is fast approaching! Hope you guys are ready. I think by the time this is release, I should have the second chapter done! As of 7/12/2018, I had finished the first chapter! Go me!

Don’t forget to leave a like/reblog/comment/send in an ask on your thoughts! I love hearing them! :)

- Kim

[reminisceikigai]

The Young King (English ver.)

Co-authored with Dayao, K.

                                       I

    On a bright, warm day, surrounded by the greenery of the plants and the smooth, solid benches and tables of the park, a young boy named Austin and his grandfather Filimon sat opposite to each other, with a table in between them, playing chess.

    Chirp-chirp!

    A soft breeze ruffles Austin’s hair, messing it up, but he does not pay any attention to it. Instead, his focus is on the chessboard in front of him, eyebrows scrunched up and his hand hesitating to place the rook on the board. When he finally decides to place his rook down, his grandfather immediately moves his knight to capture the rook. The glory of the capture was short-lived, however; for now, with nothing to protect it, Austin’s queen takes the king and ends the game.

    “Yes!” Austin shouted.

    His grandfather laid back on his seat and chuckled. “I never would’ve thought that you would sacrifice your rook for my king.”

    “Sometimes, sacrifices are necessary, grandfather.”

    The summery, joyful atmosphere that permeates the park is interrupted by the ring of his grandfather’s phone. His grandfather reaches down to his coat, pulls out his phone, and quietly answers the call. When the call ends, his grandfather stands up and pushes back his chair, which Austin follows.

     “Your father called, Austin,” Filimon said. “He expects us to return home now.”

     “I don’t want this to end though. I’m having so much fun!” his grandson complains.

     “Until next time” his grandfather states.

                                       II

    On a cold, somber day, surrounded by people dressed in black, holding flowers that failed to uplift the dark mood of the people, Austin stood still, silently. Standing before an open casket, he gently lays the flowers in his hand on the glass, his fingertips grazing the smooth surface. From his left pocket, he produces a knight and places it amidst the flowers, before turning away, his bloodshot eyes lingering on his face, and leaving for home.

    At home, he locks himself in his room, disturbing the tranquility of the room with his noisy sobs and the mess he had caused the moment he had arrived home. He plays chess by himself, lazily moving the pieces from one place to another, knocking all that gets in his way to the king. He rolls the knight in between his forefinger and thumb, staring longingly at it.

    A sudden knock on the door brings him back from his stupor.

    “Austin,” a familiar voice spoke, his father’s, “May we come in?”

    Without a reply, Austin stands up from his place on the bed and opens the door, immediately returning to his seat once the door has been opened for them. His father and brother enter the room, careful to not impose upon his privacy.

    His brother spots the chessboard on his bed and asks “Do you have room for one more player?”

    Austin, with a dull look in his eyes, gestures for him to sit and join him. Whilst Austin fixes the pieces on the chessboard, his brother sits upon Austin’s bed, with his legs tucked neatly beneath him. Austin does the same and makes the first move.

    After a few minutes, Austin’s mouth is agape with incredulity, his eyes wide in disbelief.

    The game was over. His king was captured.

    He had lost. He never loses.

    A growling noise emanates from Austin. “Again” he demands.

    And so, they do. Repeatedly, he had lost, even when he began playing against his father.

    A sense of hopelessness settles within him, making him question if all of his wins were all lies. He doubted his talent for chess.

    I never lose, yet today, I have. Many times. Am I...Am I really that bad at chess?, Austin sadly wondered to himself.

                                       III

    The distant, rumbling sounds of thunder, accompanied by the cool, moist breeze, contrasted the passionate and intense competition occuring on soft, green grounds and on dark, rough surfaces. Heat began gathering in Austin’s palms, as he rubbed his hands against one another, often the pressure a bit too hard to be considered comforting. It was silent, until...

    “Yahoo!” a voice cried, followed by mellifluous laughter. “Cheer up, Austin. You’ll do better next time.”

    Austin, however, felt differently. Another loss meant another source of humiliation, another weight added to his shoulders. His fingers bend inward towards his palms, his grip becoming tight. Suddenly, he grabs the chessboard and tosses it aside, the pieces falling to the ground in a rain of noise. His face had turned red and his ears looked like it could puff out steam, but his eyes could not meet his friend’s.

    His friend clicks her tongue and says, “So, this is what victory feels like, eh? Surprising, considering it’s my first time and all. I see now why you like it so much.”

    She glances at Austin’s face and utters, “And why it bothers you.”

    His friend sighs, sits down, then gestures to Austin’s seat to tell him to do the same. Austin follows her.

    “Have you not realized what you did wrong?” his friend asks him. But, there was no response.

    She tells him, “You were predictable, too worried about what I may do that you defend yourself behind a wall of pawns instead of attacking my open king. You were too afraid of becoming vulnerable.”

    Still, he said nothing, but his teary eyes told her everything.

    “Let’s go, Austin,” his friend spoke.

                                      IV

    His despair did not go unnoticed by his father. For a while now, his father had been wanting to talk to his son and to comfort him, but he had found it difficult when Austin had chosen to keep to himself. His son had lost the joy and warmth his grandfather had always provided him, but he had forgotten it was not only he who hurts, not only his grandfather who could give him what he wanted.

    One day, in front of the crackling blaze in the hearth, Austin approaches the coffee table and sits down on the floor beside the couch, rummaging through his bag. His father folds the newspaper he had been reading to look down at his son.

    “Austin, look at me,” his father told him.

    With much hesitance, he looked up into his father’s eyes.

    For a few moments, it was quiet, until his father spoke again.

    Pointing to the old but well-maintained chessboard that laid unused beside the hearth, he says, “That chessboard over there was your grandfather’s. In his will, he left it to you, and you know that. But, you haven’t touched it since your last play with him.”

    He pauses for a second, observing Austin’s stoic expression.

    What would happen to him if I told him the truth? He’s already in pain. I don’t know how much more he can take. But, he needs to hear this. Otherwise, the pain won’t go away, Austin’s father thought to himself.

    Speaking carefully, he continues, “Austin, I have something to tell you, but I need you to understand why it happened. Your grandfather… He loved you, Austin. He loved both of his grandsons very much, but he took special care of you because you were fragile. Specifically, your ego was fragile.

    Since you were a child, you always hated losing and failure. When confronted with it, you despaired, which caused many difficulties for our family and you. But then, you began playing chess and becoming noticeably happier, because you won. You always won. Haven’t you ever wondered how?

    You grandfather was a great chess player. He took pride in it. He had lost to almost nobody, and you were one of the few exceptions. You were only five at the time, and it was your first time playing, so low were the expectations of you winning. But, you proved us wrong, until we realized we were all fooled. So happy were you you didn’t notice the mischievous glint in your grandfather’s eyes and the mirthful laugh he would give it out, that told us he didn’t mind. For you, his honour and pride was worth losing.”

    At first, Austin could only stare at his father with wide eyes, unable to believe what he had just heard. But, the more he stared, the more he understood that what his father was telling him was no lie. It was all a trick.

    Slowly, tears begun to spring from his eyes. He sniffled, then he coughed, until eventually he began sobbing. His father comforted him with an embrace, but he could not stop. That night, Austin cried and cried, until no more tears could escape him and he was tired. Now, only thoughts of his grandfather remained.

                                        V

    Gentle was the breeze as it passed the dewy leaves of old, towering trees. The sun shined down upon the land, hitting the ground where no shadow could hide it. Animals of the wild have begun waking from their slumber, ready to begin the day anew. But then, the serene and still atmosphere was disturbed by the heavy footfalls of a young boy walking, letting his feet take him where he needed to be.

    Once he was there, he stopped and looked down. Standing before his grandfather’s grave, he contemplates the recent revelation. Should he be angry? After all, it was his grandfather’s deception that has led him to have too much confidence in himself. But, what he has done was also out of consideration for him. He had done it to make him happy and to give him the confidence to be proud. Austin was certain that he had loved his grandfather, regardless of his doing.

    After a few moments of silent reflection, Austin lets out the breath he had been holding in. He looks down into the open palm of his hand, where a king piece lays. His eyes become steely, and his hand clasps the king piece, before he marches back home.

    For months, Austin reads books upon books about tactics and strategies in chess and practices with his father and brother every day. Failure that was once frequent lessened over time, and his confidence grew to the point that he began making dangerous but clever moves.

    For you, grandfather, he would think.

                                       VI

    A breath of relief leaves his lips, as it stretches into a wide smile. He opens his eyes and regards the outstretched hand filling the view of his sight.

    “Congratulations,” she said. “You’re not a sore loser anymore.”

    “Thanks.” he told her, taking her hand into his with a firm grip and an excited shake.

    She giggles at his obvious excitement and happiness then asks him “What are you going to do now that you’ve achieved your months-long goal?”

    He hums thoughtfully for a moment then answers “I haven’t really achieved my goal yet, because I’m waiting for a certain someone to keep his promise. Even then, there are no ends to my goals, because I’ll always want to do better than before.”

    “You’re greedy for perfection,” she said.

    “Not greed, just ambition,” he corrected her.

    He glances down at the chessboard on the table, where his king has toppled the rival’s king. From the corner of the chessboard, the knight stands with pride at the sight of his king’s triumph. His eyes slightly water from the nostalgic feeling that has taken over his being. He is reminded of a bright, warm day...

[nooo-body]

Beautiful Hamlet review

A union of laughter and tears Posted on 21. September 2017 by katbwritings When Shakespeare connoisseur Kenneth Branagh directs Tom Hiddleston as Hamlet at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts, you know it is bound to be good. As soon as the news about the production hit the public, expectations went through the roof. Even I, who generally doesn’t praise a production before the curtain call starts, wasn’t immune to that. Because of the cast, the director, the small theatre, the ticket ballot lottery, and the exclusiveness of it all, I, too, had very high expectations when I went to the Jerwood Vanbrugh Theatre last Friday. Some of them were met, some were not, and some were even exceeded.

We all know ‘Hamlet’ as one of Shakespeare’s greatest, if not THE greatest of his tragedies. So one wouldn’t necessarily suspect a staging of the play to contain a lot of comedy. But that is precisely the case with this production, and it’s by far the most unexpected and pleasant surprise of the evening. Thanks to great comedic timing of the entire cast, most of all the actors of Polonius, Hamlet and the Gravedigger, who provide most of the comic relief, there is a vast number of opportunities for laughter. And speaking of timing…the general timing of the actors during the play in simply phenomenal. It speaks of great talent from both the cast and the director and makes not only for a pretty much perfectly timed delivery of all dialogue but also an endless number of little, perfectly timed moments that make this evening so special and outstanding. When Hamlet and Polonius engage in some brief synchronised leg-crossing, it is not only funny and entertaining, but also shows how well-rehearsed those sequences are. To use the terminology of playwright Alan Ayckbourn, this is the crafty art of playmaking at its best.

Probably the most special aspect of the production is the intimacy of the theatre. No audience member is more than a few feet away from the centre of action, making everyone somehow automatically a part of what’s happening on stage. The audience surrounds the stage on three sides, which is why the cast isn’t so much acting in front, but rather right in the middle of them. Every member of the audience has a different angle from which they get to experience the play. And because the actors deal so naturally with the fact that they can’t face the entire audience at the same time, even on occasion turning their back on some of them, the situation sometimes feels almost voyeuristic. The intimate setting also allows for far more intimate character interaction than a big stage would. And, interestingly, some of the strongest moments of the evening were the things that weren’t said, the silent looks. Whether it’s the accusing looks of Hamlet towards his uncle, the disciplining looks of Queen Gertrude towards her son, the silent communication between Hamlet and Horatia, or the ghost of King Hamlet quietly watching over the events taking place in the beginning of the play, those silent moments are some of the loudest and most intense of the whole evening.

Apropos silent… The most impressive performance of the evening is delivered by Caroline Martin as Horatia, even (or maybe especially) in the moments where her character remains silent. Her presence on stage is simply breathtaking and Martin doesn’t even need lines to capture attention. Whenever she’s on stage, she owns it with every fibre of her body and radiates confidence and a constant care for Hamlet, her best friend. She is the fierce protector that the character of Horatio is intended to be. She’s his confidant, his conscience, the person who knows and understands him best. And while (thankfully!) Horatia and Hamlet aren’t in any way romantically involved, there’s always the subliminal question of what they could be if they allowed themselves to cross that line. It is without a doubt that Martin’s Horatia loves Hamlet. Definitely as a friend, maybe even more than that. It is her reaction, her silent tears and her refusal to accept the death of the man she loves, that make Hamlet’s death in the end so unbearable. I suffered with her, I cried with her.

Almost equally heartbreaking is Kathryn Wilder’s performance as Ophelia. She is so young and so innocent, so pure in her love for Hamlet. And the turn of events in the play completely take that innocence away, both emotionally and possibly physically. Yes, physically. Perhaps I’m only reading to much into it, but I believe it is entirely possible that Ophelia did lose her virtue to Hamlet, resulting in a pregnancy. Because when she points her brother’s gun at her head, already taken over by madness and grief, it seems to be a pain in her abdomen that stops her. Maybe it’s just coincidence, maybe it is not. The production doesn’t answer the question, leaving it up to the audience to interpret. Wilder’s strongest moment is Ophelia’s attempt at putting back together the pieces of a letter that Hamlet tore apart in his rage. Without saying a word, simply kneeling on the floor, her despair becomes so visible and so understandable. And it explains why supposedly losing Hamlet takes this toll on her.

Thanks to the casting choices, Rosacrantz (Ayesha Antoine, also in the role of Bernarda) and Guildastern (Eleanor de Rohan, also as Marcella and the priest) are not only Hamlet’s friends but also women in his life. And to first answer the question of ‘Did they or did they not?’…yes, I think they did. It is never addressed, but there is a certain vibe in their initially playful relationship with the Danish prince that makes me believe that the good times they had together in Wittenberg included more than just dancing and drinking games. Given that’s the case, their betrayal of Hamlet becomes somehow even more outrageous. Both Antoine and de Rohan deliver a brilliant performance as the spineless instruments of King Claudius who gradually forget that Hamlet once was their friend. Or maybe he never really was?! On a sidenote, they both also rock running around in killer high heels.

The character of Queen Gertrude, Hamlet’s mother, has never really been a very likeable one to me. In the beginning of the play, that goes for Lolita Chakrabarti’s Gertrude as well. While she is the epitome of grace (seriously, she is!) and always a loving mother to her son, she is also the woman who gladly shares her bed with her first husband’s brother. But over the course of the play, Chakrabarti shows Gertrude as a woman who starts to doubt and to question. In the midst of worrying about her son, doubting her current husband’s motives and questioning the circumstances of the death of her first, she becomes a sort of plaything of the events taking place. And while she obviously wants to stop it all from happening, especially anything concerning her son and the madness of Ophelia, she is completely helpless and caught in the wheel of lies and schemes. Gertrude has to start wandering the fine line between giving into her impulses, her doubts and remembering her duties as the Queen and wife to Claudius, something that Chakrabarti portrays with utter perfection.

Nicholas Farrell plays his Claudius with lots of power and strength. Even in the moments of doubt, I never developed any kind of pity or sympathy for the King. He is a Claudius I loved to hate. While Farrell’s delivery is flawless, it lacked a certain spark and unfortunately kept me from connecting with the character in any way.

The complete opposite of that is Sean Foley’s Polonius (and also later in his portrayal of Osric). Just like Gertrude, I never really regarded Polonius as a likeable character and considered his death somewhat of a relief in the play. Not this time. Foley plays him with so much charming wit, refreshing humour, adorable awkwardness and, unexpectedly, true honesty that I just couldn’t help but like him. He isn’t constantly plotting and calculating, as the character is often portrayed. This Polonius is most of all a caring father who really loves and worries about his two children. And because he’s also a loyal servant to the King, he is constantly torn between his duties and the love for his family. Foley brilliantly displays that inner conflict without letting it suffocate the character, on the contrary, which makes his Polonius by far the most entertaining and most memorable I’ve ever seen on stage.

Polonius’ son Laertes is portrayed by Irfan Shamji, who delivers a strong performance (also in his portrayal of the Player Queen). Even more touching than his pain over the loss of his family, is the playful and loving relationship he has with his sister. His Laertes is very affectionate towards Ophelia and never leaves any doubt that he’d do everything to protect his sister. And that strong relationship makes his rage even more powerful and understandable. This Laertes doesn’t want revenge out of a sense of honour or obligation. He wants revenge because he wants to hurt the person who took his beloved family from him and Shamji’s delivery never leaves a doubt about that. He also shines in the intense sword fight at the end of the play.

The unexpected versatile surprise of the evening is without a doubt Ansu Kabia, portraying the ghost of King Hamlet, the Player King and the Gravedigger. If the programme didn’t confirm it, I’d never suspect all three characters to be played by the same actor. Kabia’s Player King is very intense and his monologue recital did indeed bring tears to my eyes. His Gravedigger is, just as Shakespeare intended, a clown with great comedic timing and a great feeling for rhythm. When the character uses the dug up skulls as a kind of drumset to entertain himself, it seems somehow morbid and at the same time incredibly funny, all thanks to Kabia’s on-point performance. But his most impressive performance of the night is his portrayal of the old King Hamlet. He lends the ghost a very own physis and manner of walking that really makes him seem like he’s out of this world. It is a ghost who is in pain – pain over his own death, pain over the loss of his family, pain over his brother’s betrayal, pain over being trapped in the state between living and dead. Kabia allows the audience to see, hear and feel that pain in every step, in every word.

And last but not least, there is Tom Hiddleston, who simply owns the role of Hamlet. All of his many talents shine throughout the play, most of all his physical presence on stage, his flawless technique and his ability to deliver Shakespeare lines with the greatest ease and, at the same time, so much meaning, depth and emotion. His Hamlet is a complex one. He’s confident and yet so doubting and vulnerable. He’s calm and yet there is an ocean of emotions raging inside him. He’s grieving and dealing with sadness and yet he’s surprisingly funny and at ease sometimes. He’s gentle and yet his words can hurt more than any sword ever could. The list of polar opposites in this Hamlet goes on and on and on. And Hiddleston manages to switch between them in the blink of an eye and every new emotion, every new idea simply hits the nail on the head. His ‘To be or not to be’ isn’t a question at all. The confidence with which he delivers the famous soliloquy is almost shocking and leaves no doubt that his character has very well understood one of the most essential questions of human existance. Unfortunately, not all monologues are that convincing. There are moments in which Hiddleston’s delivery feels a bit too recited, too rehearsed even. In these moments, I wished for a more emotional and less restrained Hamlet. But none of this changes the fact that Tom Hiddleston’s performance is absolutely outstanding. The sheer power he radiates on stage makes it impossible not to connect with the character and not to feel what he feels. He also once again shows great comedic timing and it is hopefully only a matter of time until he is cast in a full-on (Shakespeare) comedy. And after witnessing live how he makes Shakespeare’s words his own and gives them new power and meaning, I am now once and for all convinced that Tom Hiddleston is the best Shakespearean actor the world has seen in a very long time.

For someone familiar with Kenneth Branagh’s œuvre, there are many moments and little details that bear his handwriting. Combined with a stellar cast, his understanding and obvious appreciation of Shakespeare created a production of Hamlet that is very true to the literary original and yet demands enough freedom to be original and unique. It is also a nice nod towards Shakespeare and the exclusively male actors of his time, that the Player Queen in the play in the play is actually portrayed by a man.

Sure, in general, it isn’t a groundbreaking staging that offers some never before seen take on the play. But as a complete work of art, the production is absolutely coherent and offers unforgettable cast performances as well as true emotions. And due to the close proximity of the audience to the stage, it is basically impossible to escape those emotions that range from wholehearted laughter to heartbreaking tears. Emotions that still move me when I think back to what I was allowed to experience at the theatre. The production is a union of laughter and tears, delivered with great honesty. And when theatre is so honest and moving and technically flawless, it doesn’t need to be groundbreaking to be phenomenal.

https://katbwritings.wordpress.com/2017/09/21/a-union-of-laughter-and-tears/

[azlissian]

Voltron Season 3 Review - CAUTION: RANT INBOUND

I just finished watching the newest season of Voltron: Legendary Defender, and holy cheeseballs on a cracker I need to get some of these emotions out because I was NOT. READY.! 

I never use Tumblr. In fact, I make an effort to steer away from it. But with such a large fanbase, it’s hard to find anywhere else to rant in such detail. So, here we go.

WARNING: As you might expect, this contains extreme spoilers. Look away now!

To start off, I just want to congratulate the Voltron team on creating yet another amazing addition to the series, even if it’s only 7 episodes long. This was probably the most heart-wrenching, scream-inducing, absolutely bonkers and overwhelming season to date, and I commend you for managing to make me feel approximately 543859746 emotions in the space of a few seconds constantly throughout. These 7 episodes - these nuggets of purest space-tastic beauty - are simply glorious..

..and here are my reasons why. My long, long reasons why.

1. Strap yourselves in boys, this is going to be a long one. The raw emotion in every. single. scene. - in every single character - is indescribable. The Paladins are adjusting to things they never thought would happen, and you can see it taking a toll on each character right from the get go. 

Keith - precious, upset, amazing Keith - oh boy.. I need to hug this kid and never let him go. He lost his role model and basically best friend all in one go, and he’s so caught between anger and grief and anguish he doesn’t know what to do with himself! He is thrust into this new position with the force of an ion cannon and you can visibly see it in his eyes; the fear, the uncertainty, as he tries to take on the role that Shiro left behind. His anger overtakes him on so many occasions, and so many times we think he’s going to lose it completely! (Which, in all fairness, he might as well have). And every time he’s brought back by his team (bless Lance and his perfect face - I’ll get to him later) or shut down by somebody, you can see the emotional frustration. You can feel it. I certainly felt it. This boy is not experienced as a leader, but he is sure as hell trying. 

Although, I am extremely surprised about the lack of discussion about his time with the Blade of Marmora. It is undeniable that he is part Galra, but this was not addressed at all in season 3. Whether this was because the team have simply accepted and adapted to it now, or whether the Voltron crew are holding back some serious angst in preparation for season 4, I am looking forward to seeing where they go with it.

Lance. My goodness. I was expecting some kind of character development this season, but not at all in this direction. He is, undoubtedly, the sharpshooter the team needs, and he’s also the comedic emotional support that keeps Keith and the others from falling apart. Meanwhile, he must abandon the blue lion, who we know he had a strong connection with ever since the beginning, and become the right-hand of Voltron - of Keith. There is hesitation abundance here, but he takes it in his stride and pilots the red lion with confidence. He’s watching out for Keith more, ready to step up and take charge or defend when he needs to, and I think that says a lot about their relationship development. He confides in Keith, something he would never have considered under different circumstances, and bares himself as someone who doesn’t feel needed anymore once Shiro returns. Lance is ready to give up his position to let Keith back in and ‘make the team stronger’, but Keith won’t give up on him, and we can see it means a lot to him to have his old rival, his leader, his friend?, believe in him. I think we’re going to see a much more self-conscious Lance as time goes on, but also a much more stable and prepared one in the aftermath.

Shiro. Need I say more? Yes, because this man has been through hell and back twice now at the hands of the Galra empire, and he deserves a hecking nap. He is captured, again, escapes, again, has to survive on his own, again, and is captured a further time - only to find new allies within the depths of a frozen tundra-like planetoid. There’s a moment during that episode where he takes shelter within the remains of an unknown monster, and I couldn’t help but remember the phrase ‘into the belly of the beast’. He is literally in the belly of a strange beast, but figuratively, he is right back where he started; stuck in a domain where he is alone and must fight to survive. He hijacks a Galra fighter and has Voltron within his grasp, but they’re too fast for him, and the utter despair on his face is heartbreaking. I almost cried. I thought he was done. But the relief on his expression minutes later brought everything back and reminded me how strong of a person he is, but also shows how much he relies on his team - on Keith - who clearly shares a bond with him deeper than we could have expected. The thing is, with two leaders now ready to take command, Shiro finds he cannot pilot the black lion anymore; a moment which in itself was also considerably upsetting. He leads Voltron from the castle, despite Keith’s attempt to make decisions himself, and we’ve come to a crossroad where they will have to decide who is the ultimate voice of command.

Allura has far more development in this season that I ever would have expected. With Shiro gone, the team in shambles, and the Galra threat still imminent, the struggle to make decisions and direct the Paladins is visible in every shot. The blue lion chooses her, and she doesn’t know how to handle it. She doesn’t want to be a disappointment, because everyone is counting on her, but she has to stop thinking like a princess and start thinking like a Paladin in order to get things done. Her crying broke my heart - it’s hard to witness. She’s put through so much within this time and is forced to make horrible choices, but she emerges from them stronger. Uncertain, and still a little inexperienced, but stronger. 

There are real similarities here between her and Keith; both of them must step up to their new positions, to walk in their role model’s footsteps, but both are scared. It’s a side of them I love seeing, but also hate seeing because of how much pain these characters and their fight make me feel.

I’m a bit disappointed as to how little development there is for Pidge and Hunk, but then again, there is only so much they can put into these episodes when they’re already chock-full. Besides, I think Pidge in particular will be getting a lot of screen time in the upcoming season 4 if the pictures and hints we’ve seen are anything to go by.

2. Lore galore. If I weren’t a lover of backstories and intense information-dumps and theorizing, this season would have caught me extremely off-guard. But I loved every single second of it. We learn more about the Paladins of old and how their fate came to be; we learn about Zarkon and Alfor and their relationship, in addition to Haggar; we learn about Lotor and his crew of incredible, strong, and frankly beautiful Galran fighters; we discover the creation and evolution of the lions -- there’s SO MUCH to consider here! 

Lotor is not your regular Galra leader, or at least, not in comparison to Zarkon. He is delightfully cunning and uses tactics that his father may not have even considered in order to get what he wants. He commands troops that most Galra would not even consider giving a place in their ranks (according to Throk - rip). They have abilities other, regular Galra don’t seem to posses - mind control, for one thing - and I feel as though these skills will be shown off more as their battle against Voltron continues. Unlike his father, Lotor believes in alliance rather than destruction. It’s an entirely new take on the Galran conquering system. However, he is also absolutely brutal, as shown when he throws another commander’s severed, robotic arm at Haggar’s feet. He recognizes Voltron’s change and uses it to his advantage. In short, Prince Lotor is a new, fabulous challenge I cannot wait to see more of. 

On a separate note.. To be completely honest, I feel kind of bad for Zarkon, at least when he was younger and, y’know, not evil. He loved working and fighting with the Paladins; he loved his wife; he cared more sincerely about his empire. In reality, I think he just wanted to keep his wife alive, but it developed into more than that, and I think that’s the saddest thing about his situation. Haggar doesn’t remember who he is until the last moments, but this could mean a shift in their dynamic too in the upcoming season; especially with the knowledge that Lotor is Zarkon’s son, but we have no idea who else helped bring him into this world. There was no hints that Haggar - or Honerva, as we discover - ever had a child, or that either of them were caring for a child at the time of their homeworld’s destruction. So, is Haggar Lotor’s mother? Will Haggar resent Zarkon for having Lotor when the two of them are married, even if neither of them remembered? Who knows. I want to find out! But this is one of those things we might never see purely because it’s not yet plot-related, and I accept that. For now.  (I also loved seeing baby Allura and young Coran - I need more of that purity in my life).

Voltron is far more powerful and indestructible than I first thought, and I’ve got to tell you King Alfor; you did an awesome job sweetie. The lions are so complex that they can not only adapt themselves to make them stronger, but also adapt to their Paladin, and in this case, adjust to whole new Paladins! Blue connects to Allura and helps her save the team from the depths of a cloud-covered, tech-jarring storm planet. Red, although subtly, waits for Lance to learn the ropes as he comprehends the increased speed of his lion. The black lion still senses Shiro as he’s drifting in space, perhaps channeling Keith’s desire to locate him, and immediately alerts his pilot of this fact. They’re all learning and forming a new Voltron dynamic; one that I think will change the entire image and perception of the Paladins for the rest of the Universe.

Ok, I think that’s enough for now. I am exhausted and I need some time to go over everything again! It’s just- (ok, fangirl time) such a GOOD SHOW!! It’s crazy, it’s inspiring, it’s beautiful, it’s well-written, well-choreographed, well-animated, has an amazing plot-flow, and the characters are so gosh darn relatable sometimes I want to cry!

Thank you Voltron team for giving us this fantastic show. I’m going to go put up a pinboard and create crazy theories now. 

Bye!~ <3

[girl-next-door-writes]

A Little Push

Characters: Pietro x Reader

Summary: No matter how quick Pietro Maximoff is even he can’t outrun his feelings.

Word Count: 1505 words

Prompt: This gif.

A/N: This is for my 800 followers celebration as requested by the lovely @flirtswithdanger who sent me this lovely gif and reminded me how much I love this Maximoff.

 Pietro Maximoff was smitten.  Had been since the moment you had walked into the training room with Nat, laughing at something Tony had said earlier when he had tried being smooth. Pietro had been lifting weights and all of a sudden his grip slipped and the sound of heavy weights hitting the floor had your eyes on him and he was all too aware that this was NOT the first impression he wanted to make.  “Smooth quick shot.” Clint called over from the bench where he was sitting watching the entire scene with a smirk.

“Yeah, well… shut up old man.” Maximoff huffed at him, avoiding looking at you for fear that it would be like looking directly at the sun and the little jolt he had felt in his chest upon seeing you would turn into a full blown heart attack.  

“Nice come back.” Clint grinned causing the boy to storm out of the room.  Great, not only would you think he was clumsy but also simple.  He rushed out so fast he didn’t see your curious look which was probably a good thing.

It became increasingly obvious over the passing months that he was just hopeless around you, not that you had anything to compare it to so you were blissfully ignorant of the affect you had on the speedster.  To your team members amusement he had run into things, his smart mouth had failed him on so many humiliating occasions and Barton and Stark appeared to have some game going to see which one of them could roast him most without his usual comebacks.  Stark was winning.  Steve had wised up to the situation once Nat had clued him in and had arranged that on no account would you both be on a mission together.  The one time it had happened Piet had been so distracted by your voice in his ear that he had overshot his mark and ended up in the next country before he realised.  There was no doubt the boy had it bad.

Standing in his room before his mirror he would rehearse conversations where he was charming and witty but as soon as his eye fell upon you his heart would swell and his lungs would contract to the point he thought he was going to pass out.  That was nothing compared to what happened when you looked at him causing his mouth to go dry and his stomach flip and if you smiled… the poor boy would flee from the room to avoid you seeing his cheeks flush.

“He hates me.  That’s the only reason I can think of.” You sighed as you dropped down on Nats bed.

“Come on, nobody hates you.  Except maybe that HYDRA agent you threw out that window last week.” She shrugged and lay down next to you staring at the ceiling.

“Nat.  He walks out of the room as soon as he sees me and I swear we’ve never exchanged more than five words in all the time I’ve been here.” You had been wracking your brains to find some reason, some small infraction on your part that would make him react to you in such a way but you kept coming up blank.  “All I get is a glimpse of those soulful eyes and a flash of those incredibly toned biceps and…”

“You like him! Oh man! How could I have missed this?” She sat up with a broad grin and a hint of mischief in her eyes.  

“Nat.” there was a tone of warning in your voice, you weren’t sure what she was thinking but when she got that look it was never good.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve got it covered.”  She smirked leaving you feeling increasingly uneasy.

Things didn’t change over the next week and as Quicksilver once again lived up to his name making a quick exit when you entered the kitchen you began to think Nat might just have found something else to occupy her time. Little did you know not only had she been working on a little something but she had also recruited Wanda and Stark.

“Come now brother, I can see into your mind and…”

“I hate it when you do that.  You know I hate it when you do that.” Pietro cut her off in a huff.  It was bad enough he liked you without it being obvious to everyone else.

“It’s not like I can help it, your thoughts about her are practically screaming.” She shot back defensively.  Her eyes glanced at the small surveillance camera and she just hoped Tony was taking care of his end.  “Come.  Sit.  Talk to me.” Sitting down on the bench in the gym she looked at him in silence until he rolled his eyes and sat next to her, placing him elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.  He let out a frustrated groan and she rubbed comforting circles on his back simply waiting for him to speak.  Lifting his head Pietro opened his mouth and closed it a few times before uttering any actual words.

“The thing is… okay… so… here’s the thing, it’s… ahhhh it’s so hard to put into words.  It’s like when she is around me I am happier than I’ve ever been and angrier and sadder and everything all at once.  It’s like my soul is being drawn out of my body and towards her and I despair because I am not the sort of man she deserves but it makes me strive to be that man who could one day deserve her love.  It’s like, I swear that I couldn’t love her more than I do right now, right here in this moment and yet I know that when I see her I will and I will love her more tomorrow and even more the next day and yet I feel like my insides will burst right now with how much I completely adore her.  I have realised that she has been on my mind from the moment I first saw her and I don’t know what to do.” He looked at his sister with such pain and despair in his eyes that her confidence in the plan faltered. Taking him in her arms she held him tight.  She hadn’t realised the depths of his feelings.

“I do not know what to tell you brother.  Lao-Tzu said ‘being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.’  Perhaps you need a little more courage.” She felt him shake his head and she prayed that Tony and Nats interference would pay off.

The following day Tony had called for an all hands on deck training exercise, no excuses, so you all hauled ass to his designated assembly point for a little ‘capture the flag’ Avengers style.  Pietro was glad you were on the opposing team, it gave him chance to avoid you and keep his head in the game.  Things were going well, Maximoff was headed towards the flag when he almost ran into you.  He froze, unable to speak or mov or even breath for a moment.  “This is for your own good hot shot.” Tonys voice rang through the coms and you looked over at Pietro in confusion as Tony in full Ironman suit landed a few feet behind him.  “He likes you sweetheart, like full on heart eyes walking into lamp posts can’t form words around you likes you.”  Pietro’s jaw clenched and he turned to look at Iron Jerk with a ‘WTF’ expression, his arms spread wide but before he could say anything his own voice was playing over the coms and he froze, his eyes growing wide.

“I am not the sort of man she deserves but it makes me strive to be that man who could one day deserve her love.  It’s like, I swear that I couldn’t love her more than I do right now, right here in this moment and yet I know that when I see her I will and I will love her more tomorrow and even more the next day...”

“You… you love me?” your voice was soft and he closed his eyes and scrunched his face up as he turned back towards you, already humiliated he figured a little heartbreak would just top off his day.  His eyes opened as he felt your hand gently caress his cheek and gasped as he realised just how close you now were.  

“What are you waiting for Speedy? Kiss the girl!” Tony called out and Pietros cheeks flushed a bright red.

“Yeah, kiss the girl.” You smirked, tangling your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and pressing your lips to his in a kiss that exceeded his wildest fantasies.

“Hey guys, I got the flag.” Clints voice resounded through the coms.

“Shut up Barton, the kids are having a moment here.” Tony replied with a smirk as he took off leaving you and Pietro to it.

Tags: @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @nea90sweetie @knittingknerdy @feelmyroarrrr @vintagevalentinexx @goody2shoessmut @cojootromuelle @palaiasaurus64 @littleblue5mcdork  @littlenerdgirl16  @iwillbeinmynest@buckyhawk @almondbuttercup @beccaanne814-blog @canumoveyourseatup-no @callamint @like-a-bag-of-potatoes

[shirtlesssammy]

Abandon All Hope...: 5x10 Recap

Then:

Jo and Ellen! Whaaaa.

Now:

We open to Generic City, USA, where a fancy man in a fancy suit exits a fancy car under a highway, and buries a small box in the gravel. “Mr. Pendleton, I presume.” Ah, the first words uttered by our previously only mentioned friend, Crowley. The man is surprised Crowley isn’t a woman, since this deal will be sealed with a kiss. Get over your homophobia dude. (Ha, Boris is typing this up as she watches and loves that Crowley calls him out on this as well. Oh Crowley, how we’ll miss you.) Crowley starts counting and the dude agrees, and our favorite King of the Cross Roads swoops in to seal the deal. (Boris is just going to pause right here and admit she doesn’t rewatch this episode. It’s too painful, so I didn't remember how long this kiss lasted. I know this isn’t romantic and my thoughts are way off topic, blah, blah, blah, but uh, yeah, I’m not going to settle for anything less than a kiss when Destiel does eventually exist.) Anyway, the crossroads deal is witnessed by our favorite flying badass in a trenchcoat. Castiel has tracked down Crowley.

Cas is on the phone with Dean, filling him in with the deal. Ah! This is the episode where Dean calls Cas Huggy Bear (ok, my half of the recap will just be be reminiscing on quotes, etc. that I didn’t realize happened in this episode.#sorrynotsorry) Crowley tells the man to enjoy his new wealth and that he’ll see him in 10 years. (crying noise, crying noise) Crowley takes off, with Cas in hot pursuit. Cas tracks him to a place that’s warded with Enochian magic, which means Cas can’t enter. Sam and Dean are on the case!

Later that night we’re introduced to Crowley’s domicile, and one of my very favorite musical quasi-introductions of a character ever on this show. Crowley’s making cocktails, watching Hitler videos, listening to the Main Ingredient’s “Everybody Plays the Fool”. (Fun fact: Cuba Gooding Sr. is the lead singer of this band.)

A woman buzzes the main gate. In distress, she asks for help with her car that’s broken down. The woman turns to the camera, and it’s Jo! The demon guards are condescending and gross, but Jo’s a professional hunter and plays with them long enough for Sam to stick a demon blade in each of them. Along with Dean, the trio head inside to find Crowley.

Once inside, Sam and Dean confront Crowley. They’re smart, but he’s Crowley, so their hidden devil’s trap idea doesn’t work. Instead, they’re captured by Crowley’s minions. He knows exactly why they’re visiting him: The Colt. He promptly shoots both his demons with the gun. Plot Twist!

Crowley leads the brothers deeper into his inner sanctum, informing them that without his rumors about the Colt, they wouldn’t have had the gun at all. He had it well hidden. Sam wonders why he would share it with them at all. “I want you to take this thing to Lucifer, and empty it into his face.” Crowley’s loathing for that particular fallen angel dates way back. Crowley understands that if Lucifer succeeds in destroying humankind, demons are next. “So what do you say if I give you this thing, and you go kill the devil?” IT’S A PLAN! What can possibly go wrong?! NOTHING. WE WIN. YAY! Crowley even tells them that Lucifer’s got an appointment in Carthage, MO.

Omg, Sam gets the Colt and then tries to shoot Crowley with it? Lol. Barely batting an eye, Crowley gets them some more ammunition. And tells them that they better not fuck this up, MORONS!

*Classic Drinking Alert*

Back at Bobby’s, Ellen and Jo are trying to upstage Cas with their drinking prowess. And fail. 

After 5 shots, Cas admits, “I think I’m starting to feel something.”

Sam and Dean discuss the probability that this is all a trap. It is a trap, but the devil is in Missouri. Dean tells Sam that he can’t come --there’s no way they’re just going to hand his vessel over to the devil. Sam insists they’re doing this as a team. Dean relents.

Dean, resigned to his probable death in the morning, decides to give Jo his best “last night on Earth” line (you know, the one he gave Anna --AND CAS), but is shut down. Dude, you shouldn’t have sister-zoned her in season 2. Bobby calls everybody over for a group photo. (crying noise, crying noise)

The group enters Carthage, and Sam’s internal wi-fi is faulty.

I also really enjoy the set design’s juxtapositions sometimes:

The boys head off to check out a different part of town, while Jo, Ellen, and Cas (Boris asks: Why was he with them? Answer revealed two seconds later.) scope out the downtown. It looks empty, but Cas reveals that it’s full of reapers. 

Cas informs them that reapers only gather like this in times of great catastrophe (and then mentions the Chicago fire. *Puts on Wisconsin Nerd Glasses* The Peshtigo fire, which happened on the same exact night, was actually a far more devastating fire.) Cas wanders off to find out why the reapers are there (man, I miss these creepy ass reapers. I mean, if April was anything like these weirdos, human!Cas would have avoided her at all costs, love of PB&J or not.)

Cas follows one reaper into a building, and is trapped by Lucifer (ok, fine, maybe he wouldn’t have avoided April).

Dean, Sam, Jo, and Ellen meet back up. Cas is missing.

Cas is currently trapped in a fire ring of holy oil. Ok, guys, things are about to get heavy, so take a quick breather:

Lucifer questions Cas’s loyalty to the Winchesters, and marvels at what a peculiar thing he is. You idiot, he’s just like you, only he rebelled against Heaven because he loves humanity too much. Cas notices Lucifer's vessel is failing. He tells Lucifer that he will not take Sam Winchester as his vessel; Cas won’t let him. Lucifer then points out how similar they are, but Cas will not serve Lucifer. He’ll die first. (crying noise, crying noise)

Meanwhile, back with Team Anti-Lucifer, Dean’s missing the angel. As they walk down the street, they’re greeted by Meg, and her faithful hell hounds. We still hate Meg at this point. Dean is particularly stressed about the invisible hell hounds. He shoots one, and they all take off running. Dean goes down and Jo goes back to protect him, but is attacked herself. SON OF A BITCH. This does not get easier on a rewatch. Dean scoops her up and they all run into a store. Sam and Dean secure the perimeter, while Ellen assesses her daughter’s wounds. GODDAMMIT, WHERE'S THE ANGEL!?! It’s bad, folks, and they all know it.

“It's gonna be alright,” Ellen murmurs over her mortally wounded daughter. Sam approaches Dean in despair but Dean bolsters him as he toils over an old radio. Meg has confirmed that Lucifer is in town. They can't give up now.

Back at Bobby's, his CB radio turns on. It's Dean. “Is everyone alright?” Bobby asks.

“No,” Dean tells him, shaking. “It's Jo. It's pretty bad.”

*Wraps Dean in a blanket*

Bobby can tell that Dean is breaking apart and he calmly prompts him for the next step. Dean tries to reign in his despair to refocus on the mission. “Tell me what you got,” Bobby asks.

They tell Bobby that Cas saw over a dozen reapers at least before he went missing.

Bobby: I don't like the sound of that.

Dean: Nobody likes the sound of that, Bobby. But what does that sound like?

Bobby thinks that Lucifer is in town to raise a new horseman. He's going to raise Death, the “pale horseman in the flesh.” (Me: takes some time out of HARD CORE MOURNING to chuckle at the use of “in the flesh” to describe an oft-skeletal being.) The last time Death walked the world was the great floods of Noah's time. While the team has been out on their mission, Bobby's been researching the town. He discovered an old battle ground on a farm dubbed the “Devil's Hell Hole” where hundreds of soldiers died. Hmm, sounds haunty.

Meanwhile, Lucifer's still smirking at Cas when Meg arrives with a report. The Winchesters are pinned down by their hell hound guards. Lucifer tells her to leave them for now and counsels her to have patience when she wishes for bloodier orders. Lucifer offers Cas the gift of time in his little fire circle. He can sit in his corner and think about Lucifer's offer to join his side.

Back at the shop, the boys go over their to-do list. They've got to sneak past several hell hounds, take Jo and Ellen to safety, and then make it out to the farm before Lucifer raises Death. Noooo problem. Sam heads off to find a stretcher for Jo when she stops them and begs them to be realistic. She can't move her legs, her guts are an ace bandage away from spilling to the floor... She's toast. Ellen begs her not to give up but Jo rattles off her own to-do list. They've got everything in the store they need to build a bomb. “Those are hell hounds out there. They've got all of our scents. Those bitches will never stop coming after you.” She tells them to head to the roof and she'll take them out when they storm the store.

Ellen begs her not to do this, not to give up. But Jo doesn't see it as giving up. She's a fighter and, “This might literally be your last chance to treat me like an adult. Might wanna take it?” Fucking KNIFE twist, Jo.

Ellen wrestles her tears under control. “You heard her,” she tells the boys. “Get to work.”

Enter a bomb making montage:

Dean lays the final wires and brings the trigger to Jo. “See you on the other side,” he says. “Probably sooner than later.”

“Make it later,” Jo smiles at him.

Dean presses one final kiss to Jo's forehead, then to her lips. It holds all the weight of what might have been, all the weight of her young life cut short. Ellen crouches as though to deliver her final goodbye. The two women exchange looks, their expressions alone writing volumes, and realization comes over Jo. Ellen doesn't plan on leaving her daughter. “Somebody's gotta let them in.” Ellen tells the boys to get moving. “Dean, kick it in the ass. Don't miss.”

FUCK.

The boys head out and Jo and Ellen listen to the hell hounds snarling outside. Ellen wipes the salt from the door, removes the chains, and turns the gas on in the bomb. She cradles Jo in her arms. “I will always love you,” she tells Jo.

Okay, listen. I often joke about needing to take a break from recapping for a bout of crying but I seriously needed to take a crying break. This scene gets me every damn time. The delicate way their relationship is portrayed in this episode, the beautiful potential they both held, followed by their horrific loss hurts so badly. This episode is so well written but fucking OUCH.

As the hell hounds approach the door, Jo dies in Ellen's arms. Tears fall and she just manages to reign in her sobs because there's work to do. The hell hounds burst in and stalk through the store. Ellen waits until one exhales into her face. “You can go straight back to Hell, you ugly bitch!”

The store blows and Dean and Sam run.

We cut to the farm where the townspeople have gathered. “Last words?” Sam asks.

“I think I'm good,” Dean says. Time to go out in a blaze of glory, just like Ellen and Jo.

Sam shouts at the Devil, interrupting his digging. Lucifer smirks at Sam. It's just the distraction they need because in the next moment, Dean has the Colt up against Lucifer's temple. He fires it and sends a bullet straight through his head.

Hooray! They did it! Hoor-- Oh wait, nope. Lucifer's eyes pop open. “Ow,” he seethes before jumping up again. He knocks Dean clear across the field and into the woods and turns to confront Sam, now alone. “There's only five things in all of creation that that gun can't kill, and I just happen to be one of them.”

Lucifer swiftly finishes his work, checks in to see if Sam's ready to say 'yes' yet, and tells him it'll happen in Detroit.

“I'm gonna rip your heart out,” Sam shouts.

“All that pent up rage?” Lucifer grins. “I'm gonna need it.”

Sam asks what Lucifer is up to. Well, you know. It's the basic plan. He ordered demons to possess every man in town, who then killed every woman and child. Lucifer tries to bond with Sam. “I was a son. A brother, like you, a younger brother, and I had an older brother who I loved. Idolized, in fact. And one day I went to him and I begged him to stand with me, and Michael—Michael turned on me. Called me a freak. A monster. And then he beat me down. All because I was different. Because I had a mind of my own. Tell me something, Sam. Any of this sound familiar?” Sam responds with the eyebrows of despair.

Lucifer performs the spell and as he does so the demon possessed townspeople fall dead. Dean and Sam look appalled. “What? They're just demons.”

Back in the fire circle, Castiel scowls at Meg. She's awfully happy and it's disconcerting. She thinks all the demons are headed to Heaven under the shelter of Lucifer's wing. Cas smiles at her. “Strange, because I heard a different theory from a demon named Crowley.” Cas uses the classic trick of exposition to distract Meg while he unscrews a girder telekinetically. The girder smacks into Meg and tosses her through the flaming circle and into Castiel's arms. He tries to smite her but she chuckles at him. Without Heaven's support he doesn't have enough mojo. Cas, being the out of the box thinker that he is, chucks her to the ground and uses her back as a bridge to cross the fire. Cas...you fucking BADASS.

Back at the farm, the ground shakes as Lucifer raises Death. Cas rescues Dean and Sam, flapping them to safety. “Well, hello Death,” Lucifer says with a smile.

In the wreckage of Bobby's kitchen which is still littered with empty shot glasses, Bobby watches the grim news coming out of Carthage. Dean and Sam look on as Bobby burns the photo they'd taken together.

Boris: I realize the symbolism and all, but why would you burn that photo!? Garrrr.

Tl:dr: I wasn’t around when this first aired, but I’m so curious what people thought of this episode. Like, in hindsight, it sucks that Jo and Ellen died. The show was supposed to end at the end of this season, but it didn’t. Their deaths were noble and heart wrenching, and would have meant so much more if there wasn’t 8+ more years of show to watch. Will we see AU Ellen and Jo in season 13?!

Quotes:

So, the Hardy Boys finally found me.

Rumors, innuendo, sent out on the grapevine.

I'm in sales, damn it!

Sam Winchester, having trust issues with a demon. Well, better late than never.

Tomorrow we hunt the devil. This is our last night on earth.

What a peculiar thing you are.

Hasn't Death been tromping all over the place? Hell, I've died several times myself.

Even as we speak, it’s….going….down.

You’re functioning..morons.

[dustingrayves]

dulcet

Pairing: addcest (LPDE) Rating: K WC: 956 Category: fluff Notes: esper is probably ooc but who cares who cares im a writer i can make him do what i want watch this boy be the softest person alive because i can

The evenings at the lab slash house were always quiet; someone would be catching up on sleep, or outside running errands or searching for that one goddess-damned things they’re missing for their newest creation. Or they’d just be in the kitchen, absentmindedly stirring a mug of cocoa, just like right now.

The air is filled with the sweet scent, as opposed to the bitterness of coffee that permeates it usually. Esper had seated himself on the counter, right next to the box of cereal that he so loves to steal from whenever he feels like it. Lusa’s back is to it, the edge digging into the small of it, and from the corner of his eye he can see the smile Esper hides against the black ceramic.

Lusa brings it up to his mouth and takes a sip, enjoying the sweet taste of the milk. Even though it’s warm outside, nothing ever beats the taste of hot cocoa.

Esper perks up, looking over with an even softer smile. “Hey, Lusa?”

“Hm?”

“I love you,” Esper says, putting his mug down onto the counter.

Lusa chuckles, matching Esper’s smile with an amused grin. “I know. Love you too.”

Esper shakes his head, “No, you don’t get it—”

“Yeah, I, who is in fact you, don’t get it,” Lusa snorts into his mug, wrapping both hands around it.

Esper pouts, making a soft sound at the back of his throat. “Stop that, that’s not what I mean. I just, you know... I really do.”

Lusa looks over to catch the time traveler staring off into the distance through the window. There’s something gentle in his features, something that doesn’t cross them too often. “What, having a soft moment?” he laughs.

Esper’s brows crease and he hops off the counter, taking a spot right in front of Lusa. He stares at the brawler for a moment before wordlessly opening his arms and enveloping Lusa into a hug. “So what if I am?” he mutters into the other’s shoulder, “I don’t say it enough. I just want you to know.”

“I do know,” Lusa reassures him, but Esper is adamant and keep pouting.

“God, you’re the worst. You don’t get it, I want you to know just how much.”

“More than all the stars in all the timelines you have visited,” the berserker chuckles. Oh, he knows. Esper tells him any chance he gets, sometimes literally ten minutes apart. And the imagery he sometimes comes up baffles him.

Esper whines, long and deep, and huffs out, “You really don’t get it.”

Lusa smiles and sets his mug down to hug the scrawny man closer to himself. “I do,” he murmurs right into his ear, “I really do, but if it’ll make you feel better, I’m listening.”

“I love you,” Esper says immediately, leaning his head up to capture Lusa’s lips into a kiss. “I love you so, so much. And I want you to know, just how much you mean to me. Without you, I— You gave me a purpose again. Something to look forward to,” he rambles on while Lusa keeps holding him, raising a hand to pet his unruly hair. “It’s so nice to wake up to something… something else than the despair of the past. I’ll never, ever be able to thank you enough, Lusa. You mean the world to me.”

Lusa refrains from making a joke, even though one sits right at the tip of his tongue, a ‘wow, you’re so narcissistic today!’ that he knows is not the truth.

Esper hates himself, hates how he couldn’t figure out the right coordinates to go back in time, hates how desperate he had been.

Quite the case his other self is, both hating and loving himself.

But… Lusa can’t say he doesn’t understand, because he does. Maybe a little too well.

“I love you too, Es,” he whispers, leaning a little so he could place a kiss onto the lankier man’s forehead. “Just as much as you love me.”

Esper shakes in his hold, buries his face into Lusa’s shoulder again. Tears start to stain the fabric there; Lusa says nothing, just lets Esper cry and strokes through his hair as he does so.

Between the irregular (and almost inaudible, in all honesty) hiccups and sobs, Esper mumbles, ‘I love you,’ over and over, almost like some kind of a mantra.

Their cocoa is going cold, but it doesn’t matter.

Sometimes Esper just needs to tell him, even though he knows, he knows, he knows better than anyone. Their mind doesn’t let them believe obvious things sometimes. Just like Lusa flinches at loud laughter off the battleground, never sure he’s safe, Esper repeats things, because he feels it gives them weight and the impact he wants them to have. And that’s fine.

Lusa certainly can’t say he minds being told he’s loved as much as this; he’s sure Esper had told him those words more times today alone than he’s heard all his life before meeting him.

And that’s also fine. Maybe it’s some form of a karma that Lusa doesn’t believe or give a fuck about, who cares. The only thing that matters is the weeping Esper in his arms, holding onto him like he’d disappear if he let go, like he doesn’t want to lose him.

“I’m right here,” Lusa finds himself uttering and Esper freezes up for just a moment, his thin arms squeezing even more afterwards, as if to prove those words. “I won’t leave.”

The sun is setting behind the window and the daily rush of Velder is quieting down. It’s just the two of them in the quiet kitchen, holding onto each other in a warm embrace.

It’s a normal evening.

[recentanimenews]

Sarazanmai – 08 – Giving Up Something Precious

Where did Kazuki originally get his miçanga? From Toi, years ago, after he shot his brother’s foe. His brother had given up so much for him, he wanted to return the favor, and so gave up soccer, just like Kazuki would end up doing after Haruka’s injury. The thing is, Kazuki doesn’t remember.

That may be part of the equation of why Toi is alright leaving Kazuki and Enta, but it doesn’t mean he’s okay with it. Still, family comes first, and Toi would do anything for his brother. Unfortunately, Chikai is such a selfish jerk that he exploits Toi’s utter devotion to him at every turn, not letting him have his own life. “You need me, I need you.” Neither is true; not anymore.

On the contrary, Toi would be better off if his rotten brother were apprehended and faced justice. He has new connections. Not to be cold with regard to Chikai—he may well genuinely love his brother and wants them to be together. But he’s also an adult who made his choices, which come with consequences.

That he’s okay with Toi getting dragged down with him out of fraternal loyalty is proof of Chikai’s self-serving nature. More proof? Relying on a 14-year-old stranger in Enta to keep him hidden from the roaming Otter policemen. At least during this interaction, Enta learns the truth about the origin of Kazuki’s miçanga, and that Kazuki an Toi’s connection goes back further than he thought.

While the sudden presence of the “bro” of the guy Chikai (though technically Toi) killed wanting revenge seems rather sudden and contrived, when Chikai tosses Enta in the line of the guy’s sword, it’s Strike Three; dude should be in jail.

Thankfully for Enta, Reo and Mabo rescue him from the gangster, and then Reo shoots said gangster dead. Two other police hear the shot, but he and Mabo use special otter pins to brainwash them into telling the story of their choosing.

In a theater, Keppi consults with Sara on the Otter situation, and Sara unveils an apparatus that will flash freeze them alive upon capture, all to get back “Dark Keppi.” It’s interesting to see these two work so closely together, and to see Sara’s intermittent extreme clumsiness on display as she sneezes from pepper and accidentally kicks Keppi into the device, freezing him.

When Toi calls Enta to say his farewells, Enta tells him he knows about the miçanga, but that Kazuki doesn’t realize it’s Toi who gave it to him. Toi doesn’t think it matters, nor is there any reason to tell him, and says goodbye, wishing Enta and Kazuki the best as the Golden Duo.

When Toi calls Kazuki, he tests him by saying the same words he said years ago about having to “protect the connections he has.” Kazuki assumes, quite wrongly, that Toi is leaving because Enta betrayed them and stole the Dishes of Hope.

That makes Enta’s next encounter with Kazuki fraught with a great deal of anger and sadness over the misunderstanding. Even though Enta returns with the dishes and urges Kazuki to hurry up and help him get Toi back, Kazuki is still burning from Enta’s betrayal, and won’t believe or even listen to another word he says.

This is how, on the same day his friend Toi leaves his life, possibly never to be seen again, Kazuki puts all the blame on Enta and disowns him as a friend. To make matters worses, Keppi is nowhere to be found and thus can’t protect them when Reo and Mabo show up in the park.

Reo pulls out his pistol and shoots, and Enta takes the bullet for Kazuki…a love bullet! As the cops leave with the dishes, Mabo tells Kazuki he may still have time to save Enta’s life, and Enta comes to sprawled over Kazuki’s lap, and laughs that he couldn’t even joke about ever hating him before passing out again.

No doubt unsure what else to do, Kazuki calls Toi, but Toi is already on the boat out of Tokyo with his brother, and doesn’t bother answering. One imagines if Kazuki texted him that Enta got shot, he might ask the boat to turn around, but Kazuki doesn’t text him, so he doesn’t know how dire things are back on land.

With Kazuki a definite emotional wreck, Enta possibly dead, Toi on a boat and Keppi an ice kappa-cube, the Otters couldn’t be in a stronger position, nor could the good guys be mired in a deeper abyss of despair. Where does Sarazanmai go from here?

By: magicalchurlsukui

[draceempressa]

ok so inspired by this post I realized how Elise and Takumi are the most plot-relevant sibling from each families, and not only that: They represent an aspect of Corrin  in both paths. Elise represent Corrin’s mindset as a royal, when Takumi represent the effects of Corrin’s actions as a sibling to his/her own family, which proves why Conquest is wrong . (while this IS an anti-Conquest post, this is NOT an anti-Nohr family post). These two have the most greatly different characterization in the two opposing routes, but their Birthright and Revelation self is still pretty similar.

Also, since after all I often breach into other topics when I speak, maybe this post will not free from that too. *sigh* 

Spoiler for all three routes. Read at your own risk.

In Birthright, Elise is the only Nohrian royal who is in touch, or at least know how her own people fare, She went as disguising herself and mingling with her people because she CARES for them. That she keep that secret passage as a secret from her own family . Why? Because she knows her family is slaughtering their own people left and right! She is keeping that place as a secret as her way to protect her people!  Because she knows Nohrian people does NOT trust their own royal! She is willing to listen why Corrin side with Hoshido. She does see how nuts Garon is. Why people want to take him down. Why it is necessary to kill him and install Xander as new ruler of Nohr. What does she do then? Lead Corrin to Garon! No, I am NOT happy she is dead in Birthright. But what makes me happy is her Birthright self is much more mature and wise than her Conquest self that is anything but  a spoiled brat. Yeah, I know Revelation Elise too shows signs of maturity wisdom. I’ll talk about that later. Doesn’t change the fact I hate her bratty Conquest self.

Conquest Elise is really.... Bratty.I mean it. We did not see any sign of maturity from Conquest Elise. Instead, we see a brat with complete obliviousness to the world. Remember how clueless her was you went to suppress the rebellion here and there? And when you went to the Wind Tribe’s territory? And she shoo Sakura away in the banquet at Izumo? Oh my god. Where is the tolerance that Birthright!Elise have? Where is the wisdom that Revelation!Elise have? I didn’t see any of it from Conquest! Elise She is but a oblivious royal brat unaware of her surrounding and people. That’s it. You side with her, yet she have worse personality/characterization than in the path you oppose her family. Why? “She got better in the far ending of Conquest!” Don’t give me that. Why in the far ending. Why can’t you see her wisdom when you ARE PLAYING BESIDE HER? 

Oh the other hand, Birthright!Takumi isn’t a saint either. But that’s too IS the point. You started with a half-filled/empty (depend of your perspective) glass of water. Will you empty the glass, or you refill it? That is the question faced when you met Takumi in  both paths. He have both hope and despair by the time you met him again after chapter 6 in both paths.. Will you take despair away from him and give him hope? Or the opposite? He is a jerk, yes, but that’s for hiding his insecurity. Will you try to approach him because you CARE for him ? That you admit he is FAMILY? Or will you ignore, or even abuse, his emotional problems , because, of course he IS NOT FAMILY, HE IS ENEMY in the war? (read some of the list of Corrin’s emotional abuse to Takumi in Conquest path.... yikes.) 

It is also worth mentioning that in both paths it is Leo who sent both Elise and Takumi to their demise, unintentionally. In Birthright he allow her (support her, even) and Corrin’s party to pass, after Elise explained why she agreed with Corrin. What if Leo himself went to assassinate Garon without  passing Xander? Chapter 2 already shows he IS aware something is wrong with Garon. He could think of a better way to assassinate his dad without his brother noticing. If he did, Elise doesn’t have to face Xander and Garon with Corrin. And with Takumi... So simple. He just say they captured Sakura and that’s it. As simple as that. 

Let’s compare the death scene of Elise and Takumi in Conquest path, shall we? You can say Elise throws herself into death by attempting to protect Corrin (some people say this for the justification Takumi’s hate for Corrin is irrational since Mikoto did this to her... smh, that’s not the only reason.He have the LONG list of reasons to hate Corrin, his hate is justified you know) , And Takumi, well you know his story. Their emotional and mental state. 

When she is dying, Elise is PERFECTLY HAPPY and COMPLETELY SANE, HAPPY because she MANAGED to do what she have to do as a PRINCESS, A ROYAL, that is to MAKE HER PEOPLE’S LIFE BETTER EVEN IF SHE HAVE TO LET CORRIN KILL HER OWN DAD. She BELIEVES Corrin is indeed FAMILY EVEN IF S/HE SIDE WITH HOSHIDO. she MANAGED to tell Xander and Corrin that PEACE IS NOT AN ILLUSION.  Her death leaves IMPACT to.. everyone.She died with HOPE. She represent the HOPE that is Birthright ending. 

Takumi’s dying scene is just... Ugh. the complete opposite of Elise’s. he is an UTTER WRECK , UTTERLY BROKEN, COMPLETELY SAD AND INSANE because he FAILED to do what he have to do as an ELDER BROTHER, A FAMILY, that is to protect Sakura. He already lost Mikoto, now he lost Sakura. Those two are his only reason to live as they are the only one who give him genuine love he always yearned. He FAILED  not only as an ELDER BROTHER, but also a a PRINCE to PROTECT HIS COUNTRY.  His death is BRUSHED OFF by EVERYONE .He died with DESPAIR. He represent the DESPAIR that is Conquest ending. 

However, as Fates often emphasizing the “greyness” of the plot, that neither Hoshido is complete good nor Nohr is completely evil, neither is Birthright!Elise is pure hope, nor is Conquest!Takumi is pure despair. Birthright!Elise’s despair is that she is aware Nohr is destroyed from the inside by royal family itself, the lack of trust of people and royal family, and her lack of power to change it. Conquest!Takumi’s hope is that he still hopes for Corrin to return, and his inability to truly give up on that speck of hope. And of course, in both paths, Corrin brushes off these impurities.... by...ehm, you know the plot itself. 

As you can see, Elise is more of a representation of Corrin’s MINDSET as a ROYAL, when Takumi is more of a representative of  Corrin’s EFFECT to his/her FAMILY in a PERSONAL level, and BOTH are IMPORTANT for Corrin.

Birthright!Elise have the mindset “I must make my people happy BECAUSE I AM ROYAL. I must KNOW how they do. And if it comes to it, I must sacrifice myself for them. If siding with Hoshido leads to peace, so be it.”  when Conquest Elise is like “What? The peasants? Who cares! I’m ROYAL. Let the older siblings decimate them! It’s their own fault to not listen to us ROYALS! Hoshido? Who cares! Only our own country Nohr matters!” and Elise’s mindset is exactly of Corrin’s in both paths. Birthright Corrin never tried to kill anyone. Remember, in Birthright before you get to Castle Krakenburg you fight Camilla beforehand. Even when she lose, did Corrin capture her? No. Corrin let her off even if she could tell Garon about them. In Conquest you get to fight Sakura before you get to Takumi. Yet Corrin capture her. Yes, both Camilla and Sakura are women, yes, but the biggest difference here is that Camilla is an ACKNOWLEDGED WARRIOR ON HER OWN (if you take Siegfried from Xander, his stat is lower than her, That’s how OP Camilla is.) when Sakura is a PURE HEALER WITH NO COMBAT SKILL. Yet Conquest Corrin still captured her. And in Conquest you slaughter YOUR OWN PEOPLE. Again, Cheve... *sigh*  

All in all, Conquest makes EVERYONE looks like  idiots. Leo? He already see how Garon is off in the head as early as chapter 2 and Conquest brushes it off. Same with Elise’s empathy that is missing from her Birthright self. Azura.. Oh, can’t forget her brilliant idea to suggest invading Hoshido to make Garon sat on the Hoshidan throne . After her previous anxiety to point her blade to Hoshido, after she implied she loved Hoshido more because she remembered nothing good in Nohr. And Takumi easily forgave Corrin! After all those emotional abuse! He clearly is not himself in the final battle, and everyone shrugs it off, ignoring the chance the force possessing him may attack again?! Really, now? I facepalmed at everything plot-wise in Conquest. 

“But Nohr family already suffered enough from the concubine war! They shouldn’t suffer anymore!” So? Let me remind you that 1: Hoshido family is BROKEN family too. BECAUSE of Corrin. Corrin got kidnapped is what shaping the Hoshido family.  Was Corrin THAT important for Nohr family? S/he was raised NOT in Castle Krakenburg, and it was NOT her presence that stopped the concubine war. It was Elise’s birth. I see why Nohr family deserved WARM BLANKET AND HUG , yes, but not why they deserved CORRIN. For him/her, Hoshido family won by miles, thank you. 2: they are royals, man. They have a country to lead. And what they have done in Conquest? They also make their own PEOPLE suffer. When Xander finally become king in Conquest, did he learn something to NOT make him tyrannical like Garon? I didn’t see any hint of it. They are still royals. They need a lesson to stop them being a tyrant be it the  hard way like in Birthright or the gentle way like in Revelation (that is actually NOT that gentle). Yeah, Birthright too leads to the events of Heirs of Fate, not only Conquest, but still, a happy ending is guaranteed for the moment . Conquest? What can make you sure Nohr won’t invade another country? What can make you sure Nohrian people will be happy and trust their ruler? Really, nothing... Also why the heck you get to see the hidden side , the prosperous side of Nohr whe you are NOT siding with them!? You are supposed to change Nohr from the inside, not destroying it! Conquest ENCOURAGES the mentality of a tyrant, not telling you how to stop Garon! If Conquest offer the chance to side with the rebels, unify the rebellion forces here and there in Nohr (Ice Tribe, Cheve, and probably more) and destroy Garon from the inside, and see the hidden side of Nohr that we get to see in Birthright instead, I’ll consider playing Conquest. 

I promised that I will talk about Revelation too. Okay, here we goes. 

Revelation! Elise too show awareness that Garon is nuts. And is not ONLY aware. she actually DOES something out of her awareness: That is,to finally LEAVE and REBEL AGAINST him. As I said before, Leo acts for support for Elise in both Birthright and Revelation. In Birthright Leo only allowed her to pass while supporting her idea in his heart. In Revelation he actually does something: Convincing Xander. Leo stays NOT because he didn’t believe Elise, he believes her. But if he leaves , who else would convince Xander, who stubbornly cling to the fact Garon CAN return to is former self? No one. That’s why Leo have to stay and convince Xander to join Corrin too in Revelation.  When Xander join, he joined too. He already did his job. 

As much as Leo acts as Elise’s support in Birthright and Revelation, Sakura too acts as Takumi’s support in Conquest and Birthright. When he fell to his knees because of his fever, she was the one beside him. When Iago got  him in Birthright, it was her that breaks him free. In Conquest, Takumi lost all hope whne he heard she is captured. However, in Revelation, it got reversed. It is Takumi who acts as Sakura’s support. She was the first royal to join Corrin in Revelation ,setting a role model to everyone, and Takumi was the second royal to join. Other than his guilt to Izana, it is probably because Sakura joined he joined Corrin too to ensure her safety. 

However, remember that in Revelation Takumi says “Healing can only starts with trust.”. Considering the context , it could be that he is referring to the peace of both countries in Revelation. But you know, it also could be he is unintentionally referring to himself in two other paths. Birthright!Takumi can recover because he trusted Corrin. An Conquest! Takumi is the opposite, that he never break free, never recovered as long he is alive. 

All in all, Conquest is wrong, even if  I only used Elise and Takumi to show how wrong Conquest is, it really is wrong plot-wise. 

After all, this is a gamplay-heavy game, not a visual novel. Conquest have good if not best GAMEPLAY INTSys have to offer these late years, I’ll give you that, but the plot is a TOTAL WRECK AND WRONG. 

[preserving-ferretbrain]

Rapetastic

by Wardog

Friday, 02 January 2009

Wardog rambles about Twilight.

Look, there's no way of saying this gently, but Twilight (the movie) is awful. It's just awful. It's so badly paced, it's actually boring a lot of the time. And when you stop and think about it for half a second you realise that it's stupid and, potentially, offensive as well. But that's Meyer's fault, not the film's. But, still, like the book to which it is almost co-dependently true, there's something about it that makes it ... addictive, in the most tepid, bloodless way possible. Like ready salted hula hoops.

But what the Twilight movie does exceptionally well is capture the atmosphere and preoccupations of the book. The lingeringly dreary tale of Bella Swan falling for Edward Cullen, the biggest vampiric pussy ever to grace the pages of romantic fiction, is re-created with all the intensity of the original, and told without a glimmer of humour or self-irony. Which, remarkably, works in its favour - since a sense of self-irony is something that develops after being a teenager has already fucked you up beyond redemption.

So in terms of fidelity to the original, it is, at least, well done. The Cullen clan are all spot on, especially Alice (although Jasper looks lobotomised a lot of the time). And the guy playing Jacob - who I always preferred to Edward although I understand Meyer psychos him up in later books - is, true to form, hotter than Edward, much as I love Robert Pattinson. The two leads have impossible tasks but somehow they manage to imbue their lingering looks and clunky dialogue with some sense of conviction - I thought they were both nuts but I believed in their nuttitude.

But let's face it here, there's no way this review can ever be fair (or even a review) because Twilight isn't aimed at me. Far more interesting than the film, to be honest, were the reactions of the audience. It was comprised mainly of teenage girls, who shrieked, sighed and swooned their way through it, and their long-suffering kid brothers who couldn't contain their utter contempt for everything that transpired, occasionally bursting into uncomprehending, hysterical laughter or expostulating "dude! This sucks!" in tones of utter despair. As I left I ducked into the lady's toilets and was thus subjected to a barrage of high-pitched enthusiasm about the gorgeous Edward Cullen and the romance of it all. Waiting outside, my companion in being grown up enough not to get it, overheard two boys as they left:

First boy: That was the worse film, ever!

Second boy: That's the last we ever see a chick flick.

Oh bless. But then Twilight wasn't for them either.

I reason I quite enjoyed Twilight when I read it was because I gave it too much credit and thought it was an allegory. I've always really like paranormal teenage stuff. It makes perfect sense to me. I mean when you're between the ages of 13 and, well, 27, attractive members of the opposite sex do seem like these impossible, unknowable, unattainable creatures so they might as well be vampires or werewolves or vampirates (okay, maybe not vampirates). And since a large part of growing up is getting to grips with a world both hostile and full of secrets people won't tell you, again, it makes perfect sense for those secrets to be "there are vampires in it". And since you're undergoing a horrific process of unstoppable uncontrollable change that you both want and don't want, why shouldn't it be represented by discovering that you're also the High Queen of Faerie, or a Vampire Slayer, or whatever? And, finally, of course there's the problem of sex - its dangers and attractions are beautifully encapsulated by the dangers and attractions of supernatural power, manifest either in others of yourself. That it articulated these ideas so clearly, so cleverly and so wittily is one of the (many) strengths of early season Buffy.

Unlike Buffy, Twilight is not knowing. But it is terribly terribly serious and that's why it works. Teen crushes and love affairs (to be honest, crushes and love affairs in general) are rarely humorous to those involved: unrequited love is the most painful of adolescent experiences and your first taste of romance the most intoxicating. And although when you look at Edward Cullen with the eyes of an adult you see an obsessive, domineering, disempowering, semi-misogynistic nutjob, when you look at him with the eyes of a teenager, he's utterly, profoundly desirable. His whole world is Bella - because he never sleeps, he can literally spend every hour of every day either with her, watching her or thinking about her. He has no life and no interests outside her - for the rest of us that alone cries out "restraining order", for a teenager (to make this less patronising, I'll say, for my teenage self) the idea of someone being completely bound up in you is breathtakingly romantic. As a teenager, you are still semi-dependent upon various authority figures (school, parents, etc. etc.) and very probably highly uncertain in yourself - thus the idea of another person needing you for anything cannot fail to be appealing. Again, I'm making a lot of generalisations about The Way Teenage Girls Feel here, but I associate my own teenage years with confusion, helplessness and a fair quantity of misery. Quite frankly, I wanted an Edward Cullen - because I thought that through the value given to me by another I could learn to value myself. Feeling incomplete, because, quite frankly, I was, I was searching for romance to "complete" me. That real loves exists only between two fully self-actualised, functional and capable human beings is something one learns only in later life.

What I'm trying to say here is this: it's theoretically okay to like Twilight. I even believe it performs a useful function: rarely are these private ideas and desires as well-realised as they are in Twilight. It's nice to have someone stand up and say "yeah, sometimes girls want this"; unfortunately, where it becomes problematic is that it never acknowledges its own status as fantasy and it never grows up. Now, I read a lot of a romance so I'm quite happy with fantasies progressing down whatever path they happen to progress - the alpha male may not appeal to me personally but I'm capable of recognising that it's perfectly acceptable to fantasise about having a domineering man with storm grey eyes who is secretly in love with you but doesn't know how to express it fling you down across the bed and have awesome sex with you until you get to like it. Women are very capable of recognising that when they want flinging it's on their own terms and that a man who behaves like an attractive asshole in a book may not be so attractive in real life. I like romance because it's such a grown up genre: it's a safe space where we get to shrug and let ourselves get swept away in what could be a rather politically incorrect fantasy and nobody accuses you of being too dumb to be able to tell the difference.

Because, as I have said, that Twilight isn't knowing, its status as a fantasy becomes problematised. Basically there's no acknowledgement that it is one; there are elements of the fantastic, gorgeous vampire falls for everygirl etc, of course, but the book never invites us to question their relationship. And, really, given its nature, we should. I could easily list the ways in which Edward and Bella's relationship is fucked to high heaven but since we're all intelligent readers I won't bother. I suppose the quintessential example, however, would be Edward's refusal to turn Bella into a vampire. This is never really open for discussion, one gets the feeling Edward has made his decision and that's that. You'd think that, as an equal participant in a relationship between two people, Bella's opinions should be at least relevant and that their final decision on the matter should be one they have reached jointly. That's what happens in functional relationships. But Edward is not to be persuaded: thus it is very much his decisions, not their decision. He thinks he's protecting her but his behaviour implies that he does not trust her to know what she wants and, in this, as on many other occasions, his protective streak is actually revealed to be rooted in fundamental disrespect for Bella's ability to live her life and make decisions.

Interestingly, despite the chorus of sighing from the teenage audience, I was impressed by Robert Pattinson's portrayal of Edward Cullen. I found him genuinely a bit creepy. He's so obviously ill-at-ease with who and what he is (unlike the rest of the Cullen clan who seem perfectly content to be vampires) and his self-loathing is both evident and off-putting. I think the other girls were titillated by the air of danger and emo but, actually, it's hard to love a man who hates himself. With a weirdly twisted smile, Edward characterises their relationship: "a stupid lamb and a sick, masochistic lion" - the point that Pattinson (bless him) seems to be trying to convey is that he genuinely means it. He thinks Bella is stupid for loving him and, quite frankly, she is (never trust a man who wants to eat you, girls); and he hates himself to such a degree that he cannot respect anyone who purports to love him. This is, of course, precisely what Pattinson has said in interviews - and I'd like to send him about two tonnes of love for actually managing to bring it out of the text since, you can see from reading about half of page of the book, it is something one reads into it, rather than something that is meant to be read.

Edward's love for Bella is truly masochistic at heart - since he must exert constant control to avoid eating her, he never allows himself to forget his own predatory nature, the very nature he despises. I think, through his protection of her, he is attempting to protect the part of himself he conceives as lost - his innocence, his mortality, whatever you want to call it. Regardless, it's messed up and in no way a grounding for a healthy relationship, even, or perhaps especially, with a 17 year old girl. Combine this tortured emotional masochism with an equally tortured attitude to sexuality and things really get nasty. Given Meyer's background, it's not surprising that Twilight, despite the gushyness of its romance, is essentially sexless but the intermingling of Edward's bloodlust and, err, lust-lust, however, serves to present sex as something dangerous and potentially fatal. Noticeably Bella spends most of Edward's kisses (and also her wedding night) unconscious. By this stage we have left the realm of fantasy far behind and moved full time into "just plain wrong".

Now I'm not going to get onto a soapbox and start sputtering that this not appropriate reading material for our children. The first book at least functions as a fantasy and as an honest expression of not-entirely-healthy teenage desires. And, although if you pay even the slightest bit of attention, you can see some very disturbing undercurrents, it was clear from the giggly enthusiasm in the cinema nobody gave a damn. We went there to see Robert Pattinson looking intense and beautiful with his insane bedhair, his silly sparkling skin and his dodgy crimsoned lips. That's what we were looking for, and that's what we got. And, for the moment, that's okay.

Some Rockin' Twilight Links

Oh God, no

Growing Up Cullen

Cleoland's Discussion of Twilight

, including her recaps of Midnight Sun

My second favourite Robert Pattinson interview

My top favourite Robert Pattinson interview

Themes:

Books

,

TV & Movies

,

Sci-fi / Fantasy

~

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Gina Dhawa

at 00:28 on 2009-01-03Whilst I'm not sure I can actually bear to fork out as much money as my local cinemas is asking for in order to see

Twilight

, I am actually intrigued by the movie because of what Robert Pattinson has been saying about how he's approached Edward. If he's managed to bring any hint of that about at all, it's no bad thing.

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Wardog

at 19:44 on 2009-01-03Basically it's not a good film - so it's hard to recommend it. It's very true to the book so if you hate the book, you'll hate the film. On the other hand, Robert Pattinson is obviously the best thing about it. He's fabulous to look at (although the film does its utmost to make him look *stupid*) and his interpretation of the character really comes through the performance. Which is a pretty impressive feat, when you think about it.

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Nathalie H

at 21:03 on 2009-01-03"It's nice to have someone stand up and say "yeah, sometimes girls want this"; unfortunately, where it becomes problematic is that it never acknowledges its own status as fantasy and it never grows up."

I think here you've really hit the nail on the head and said everything about my problem with Twilight.

I hated the book because it was astonishingly badly written; and I haven't seen the film, but I think I'll like it more because I am a step further away from the astonishingly bad writing, and only have to deal with astonishingly bad dialogue. ;) Oh and pacing and all that. But yes, props to Pattinson here.

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Wardog

at 00:14 on 2009-01-04The style of the book didn't bother me too much - I think I rated it as clunky/pedestrian rather than actually terrible but I was really looking at it with a proper critical eye.

The dialogue is - as you would expect - rather cringe-inducing. The ludicrousness of it seems more marked when spoken, than when read:

Edward: I've never wanted a human's blood so much.

Bella: I trust you.

Me: Wrong answer.

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http://serenoli.livejournal.com/

at 12:59 on 2009-01-10The point where I wanted to give it up was when Isabella Whats-her-name got annoyed with people for not knowing her nickname was 'Bella' not 'Isabella'. The book is annoying enough in its portrayal of the obsessive/dependent relationship they have, but Isabella is just such a self-absorbed twit that I kept wanting awful things to happen to her, and getting angry with Edward for saving her in the nick of time.

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Wardog

at 00:51 on 2009-01-11Hello and thank you for the comment. Yes, I entirely agree - Bella is infuriating. I found Kristen Stewart moderately sympathetic, insofar as I thought the actress was doing a tolerable job with an awful part (and I thought the relationship between Bella and her Dad was one of bearable aspects of the film), but the character is beyond redemption. I think she's basically a placeholder ... a big walking sign with "insert yourself here" written on it; unfortunately the fact she has no personality to speak of just makes her actions/reactions both irritating and incomprehensible.

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Jamie Johnston

at 02:22 on 2009-04-19Hurrah, I've finally got back to reading FerretBrain! And to prove it, I'm going to comment on this review of a film I haven't seen, just like I used to.

So no, I haven't seen the film and have not the slightest inclination to do so, especially having read this, but I have read the first three books, and I like them, and two remarks spring to mind as I ask myself why their uncritically positive depiction of an unhealthy teenage relationship doesn't bother me. The first is that I'm not sure that it's uncritically positive, and the second is that I'm not sure that it bothers me that it's uncritically positive. (Yes, these remarks are mutually contradictory, but never mind.)

Being unfashionably opposed to spoilers, I warn readers that as I unpack those two remarks I'll be mentioning elements of the plot of the first three books. (Likewise, if anyone replies, please warn me if you're going to mention any plot from 'Breaking Dawn' so I can close my eyes!)

So yes, having recently finished reading 'Eclipse' I don't feel that, at this stage of the series, I'm being asked to whole-heartedly approve of Edward and Bella's relationship. I think it's fair to say that by the end of 'Eclipse' we've seen, quite comprehensively dramatized, the tendency of the relationship to cause emotional and physical harm to people who don't deserve it, and that Bella and Edward have each engaged in some - perhaps tediously much - self-criticism on that point. They've even to some extent acknowledged that there is such a thing as a normal, emotionally balanced, non-obsessive relationship that can be had, one that would not be a pale imitation of 'true love' but a genuinely loving long-term relationship such as people should count themselves lucky to find, and that theirs is not it. Of course they cling to the belief that theirs is equally valid, or perhaps more so, but surely to ask anything else of these characters would be to ask the writer to be morally responsible at the expense of emotional truth. People in an unhealthy relationship do, at some level, believe that love redeems, trumps, justifies, cancels out the unhealthiness, otherwise they'd address the unhealthiness or get out of the relationship. So naturally Edward and Bella don't see their relationship as a Bad Idea, but what about the reader?

I won't deny that Meyer puts the reader in a sort of default position of assuming that the relationship is a Good Thing and the couple should stay together. But I'd have thought that was the inevitable and proper consequence of making Bella the point-of-view character. We identify with her and therefore we shrink from the emotional pain that would come from breaking them up, even if we feel it would be better in the long run. We also, through her eyes, feel strongly positive about Edward and therefore don't want to put him through the wringer either, and we have to admit that frankly he is probably the one character who genuinely would be worse off if they broke up. That's not because Bella is all that, but because he seems to have no better options and because he, unlike everyone else including her, doesn't obviously suffer any real ill effects from the relationship (apart from the fact that it perpetuates his unhealthy view of relationships in general, but that's not a problem since he's not remotely interested in having any other relationships ever).

Oh, and a quick digression here in response to the comment that "the intermingling of Edward's bloodlust and, err, lust-lust, however, serves to present sex as something dangerous and potentially fatal". Yes that's true, and yes it's a rather unhelpful way to encourage teenage girls to think about sex. But at the same time - and I admit that here I venture into dangerous territory for someone who's never been a teenage girl - is it encouraging teenage girls to feel that way, or is it merely providing a rather apposite metaphor for the way many American small-town teenage girls probably *do* feel about sex? Let's face it, there are umpteen things in modern western (and particularly unreconstructed American) culture that conspire to make sex seem to them both dangerous and desirable, fearful and forbidden and, yes, even potentially fatal but at the same time the proper and expected fulfillment of female life? Aren't they told that they mustn't but also that they inevitably must, and am I wrong to suppose that quite a few of Meyer's readers will find (or will already have found) themselves in clinches where, like Bella, they want to go further than they 'know' (as it were) it is 'safe' to? I agree that Meyer's metaphor to some extent reinforces that unhealthy fear of sex by having sex as a literally life-threatening process for her heroine. But at the same time it goes some way to redeeming itself by at least reversing the traditional 'girl resists, boy insists' caricature of sexual initiation (on which, of course, traditional 'male vampire bites screaming female virgin' stories depend) - she at least is not saying to her young female readers that they shouldn't feel sexual attraction to their boyfriends, and she does a fairly decent job of sharing the responsibility for avoiding the 'dangers' of sex between the boy and the girl (the message being that the girl is entitled to expect the boy to restrain himself, but she should also be aware that what she's doing can make that easier or harder for him, which is perhaps not the most role-busting message ever but is better than many). And, as things stand at the end of 'Eclipse', the message seems to be developing from 'sex is dangerous' to the more balanced 'sex can be dangerous but that needn't stop you doing it with the proper precautions' (though it remains to be seen quite what the precautions are in the case of Edward and Bella); and although it would be nice to live in a social and medical world that justified a rather more positive and cheerful message, I'd say that's a reasonably constructive message considering the world we (and, again, small-town American girls in particular) do live in.

So, returning from that digression, I'd say it's no surprise and no serious moral or literary failing that the most frequent and obvious signposts in these books point to 'Bella Edward 4 Eva' land. Still, as I've said (and as you've said too, Kyra), there are plenty of fairly visible signposts to 'This Relationship Is Going To Hurt Everyone Around It', and at least a few to 'Just Plain Wrong'. The question for the reader in the end is whether 'but they love each other' is an adequate answer. Isn't that the case with 'Romeo and Juliet' similarly? Don't get me wrong, I don't compare the two works for quality, and I don't suggest the central relationship of Shakespeare's play is quite as messed up as that of the 'Twilight' series. But they both depict intense teenage romances that are almost certainly, when looked at from a sober adult point of view, Bad Ideas, and that can only be seen as positive if one accepts the leading couple's belief that the intensity of their love is sufficient to overcome all objections and excuse all damage caused to themselves and others. And although in both cases there are plenty of clues leading to the sensible conclusion that it isn't, there's also sufficient force in the lovers' own view, and sufficient attention given to that point of view, that significant parts of the audience (whether teenage girls in cinemas or eighteenth century Romantics in theatres) can end up approving of the Bad Idea.

The big objection to what I've just said, I suppose, is that 'Romeo and Juliet' isn't *specifically marketed at teenage girls*. That's a fair point. But, well, I don't know, somehow that doesn't quite convince me. Partly that's perhaps just because I don't want to blame Meyer for the way her books are marketed; and even if she consciously wrote them for that audience, I'm still not entirely comfortable with the idea of not trusting young people to cope with it. I remember hearing Richard Eyre on the radio talking about his production of 'King Lear' and saying that when he was in his 30s he thought 'how could Lear treat his children like that?' and when he was in his 50s he thought 'how could Lear's children treat him like that?' Teenagers are going to read a story of teenage romance differently from us sensible jaded sort-of-grown-ups, but does that mean writers should over-compensate by steering them strongly to see things the way they 'should' see them, i.e. the way we see them? Or should we let them believe that 'Twilight' and 'Romeo and Juliet' are about all-conquering all-redeeming love and trust that the more-or-less subtle indications to the contrary will lodge somewhere in their unconscious minds and give them a richer view of the texts as their view of life becomes more complex over the years?

Of course this all partly depends how the series turns out in the end. If it ends, as it may well do, with everything hunky-dory for everyone, then my argument here will be a lot weaker than it seems to me now at the end of 'Eclipse'. But at the moment I think the most important thing for books like this is to be emotionally honest and truthful, and I think the series so far, and perhaps 'Eclipse' in particular, have enough of that for me to feel fairly comfortable about the more troubling side.

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http://viorica8957.livejournal.com/

at 05:04 on 2009-04-19tl;dr

Seriously though,I think that Meyer's comparisons of her work to other famous "love stories" and her belief that hers leaves them all in the dust, and the fact that she's openly stated that she would leave her husband for either of her male leads proves that she isn't just writing from a teenage POV; she's living through one.

(By the way, is anyone else having trouble logging in? Half the time it refuses to accept my password, and the other hald, it logs me in automatically.)

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Rami

at 11:10 on 2009-04-19@Viorica: I'd noticed you were commenting via OpenID lately. Could you drop me an email (

webmaster

at

ferretbrain.com

) with details? Let me know what browser you're using, etc?

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Dan H

at 11:38 on 2009-04-19Speaking as somebody who has *not only* not seen the film but *also* not read any of the books (but who *has* poked around fandom a fair bit) I'd echo Viorica's comments that Meyer's comments about the series undermine a lot of the saner, more sensible interpretations of it.

It's a classic Death of the Author problem - you can probably read Twilight as an interesting portrayal of a destructive relationship from the point of view of somebody currently caught up in it, but if you *know* - for a fact - that the author didn't intend it to be read that way it becomes a lot harder to see that interpretation.

You get a similar problem with good old HP. The early books are convincingly written from the point of view of a naive, slightly self-absorbed teenager. Later we discover that no, they were actually written by an omniscient narrator, and that Harry's warped perceptions of the world map 1-1 onto Wizarding reality.

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Shim

at 13:54 on 2009-04-19

(By the way, is anyone else having trouble logging in? Half the time it refuses to accept my password, and the other hald, it logs me in automatically.)

Not the same trouble, I reckon. But I always have to log in exactly twice.

(also, if using Firefox you have to quickly "allow" whatever the bar asks about before it disappears - once you've done it once it seems happy enough to work in future)

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Wardog

at 15:43 on 2009-04-22Welcome back to Ferretbrain, Jamie :) Yay. I'd be interested to know what you think of Twilight after Breaking Dawn...

I think both Dan and Viorica have in to some extent my concerns with your points. But essentially, to me, the Twilight series only feels emotionally honest as you claim if you're willing to problematise it on your own behalf. And although there are plenty of sensible people of all ages who read Twilight and end up asking the interesting, complicated questions you ask about it (is twue wuv really enough to justify all this), there are plenty of people who simply don't. I can't really quality this clearly to myself I think it comes down to a few interacting issues:

1) Surrounding cultural framework and the problem of authorial intent - basically I don't think you can discount this sort of thing when you're reading a text (although, of course, you shouldn't be constrained by it). And Stephanie Meyer is basically nuts. She is very obviously not only unaware of but wilfully blind to potential dysfunctionalities in her text. Furthermore, many of the things you draw attention to, for example the fact Edward and Bella angst all the time about their relationship and the fact it seriously damages anyone who comes near it, I believe are meant to *validate* the twueness of their wuv.

2) Moral responsibility - maybe this is going to make me look like some kind of fascist and I'll probably regret it but I believe that if you're writing for children and young adults you have a moral responsibility to your audience. All readers are, of course, to an extent vulnerable. And by a moral responsibility I mean you don't necessarily need to say morally righteous things, or even give a damn about morality, but I think fostering uncritically (and I know you dipsute this) the unhealthiest notions of love and romance is genuinely hugely problematic. I know this sounds like hypocrisy because I'm also going on about and about the fundamental human right of fantasy but, again, I think this is becomes very dangerous territory when it is not accompanied by awareness. Essentially Meyer does not seem to be saying "we all have fantasies about this kind of thing" or "isn't it intriguing the way romantic may not be the same as healthy" but "hey girls, I wish I had this, so it must be okay."

3) Connected to the above - I often find reading teenage romances interesting, mainly because when I started I had to make a psychological adjustment. Initially I was found I was grumbling away in my adult "you think this insipid guy with floppy hair is the love of your life but he's just some 16 year old" way and then I realised I was missing the point completely. Ultimately what I'm trying to say is that it's possible to being true to the way love and life feels when you're a teenager, right down to the unhealthy aspects of teenage love, without also being nuts about it.

Anyway, I'm going on and on and on. I do see your points, but I think you're being way to generous to Meyer who doesn't deserve it =P

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Arthur B

at 16:27 on 2009-04-22The first time I read Wikipedia's plot summary of

Breaking Dawn

I thought someone had vandalised the article. I was wrong. This series is its own parody.

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Jamie Johnston

at 22:28 on 2009-04-24

tl;dr

Story of my life. :)

Okay, I take your collective word for it that Meyer is nuts and creepy and probably shouldn't be allowed to write for children. It's a shame. She plots well. In fact one of the things I most enjoyed about the books was nothing to do with the teenage romance but the rather thrilling moment in the first book (

spoiler alert

) when it occurred to me that (1) there was a big vampire cross-country hunt possibly followed by an even bigger vampire battle going on somewhere, (2) I wasn't being given a description of it as I would have been in any fantasy / horror book not specifically aimed at teenage girls, and (3) I didn't feel I was missing anything at all. But that's by the by.

Basically I say this stuff not because I'm an 'authorial-intent-is-irrelevant' hard-liner but because I almost never read interviews with authors and generally haven't the foggiest idea what the author thinks. Partly because it's disappointing to discover that an author adheres to a less nuanced and sophisticated interpretation of his or her own work than I do. :)

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http://descrime.livejournal.com/

at 03:03 on 2009-04-25Okay, I went on YouTube and watched the first 6 parts of the movie.

I have to give her credit for one thing: Bella and Edward clearly deserve each other. They're both self-centered, anti-social, emo kids. In fact, I think Meyers/the screenwriter does a really great job of showing that Bella would never be happy except with Edward.

I mean, on her first day of school, six kids try to befriend her. We're shown that the adults in the town also go out of their way to acknowledge her. And yet, she spurns all offers from the other kids to come join them hanging out in the parking lot. She agrees to go with the other two girls to pick out prom dresses but then sits in the window and reads a book the whole time, clearly sending off signals that she's such a martyr for coming. She derides all the towns welcoming efforts to her mother. And she never freaking smiles. She's a permanent flatline. Might as well date the dead.

And oh god, the moment in the science lab when they meet for the first time. Their eyes meet and she steps in front of the fan so that her hair blows dramatically. It was hilarious. And you know Edward jerked like that because

he totally popped a boner

felt their mystical connection. The actor clearly went out of his way to show how awkward Edward is and how out-of-control of his own emotions and body. I appreciated that in a movie he could have just cruised through.

Since I don't care to track down the rest of the movie, do we ever learn why Bella has such special smelling blood or why Edward can't read her mind?

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Arthur B

at 03:31 on 2009-04-25

Since I don't care to track down the rest of the movie, do we ever learn why Bella has such special smelling blood or why Edward can't read her mind?

I believe the answers are a) she eats a lot of asparagus and b) she has no mind lol.

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http://poeticalengine.blogspot.com/

at 17:29 on 2009-04-25I admit that I've never read the books or seen the movie (I pretty much swore not to the minute I saw someone selling "Edward Body Glitter" on eBay). However my flatmate has been reading them and doing a fairly amusing read through on LJ. Between reading this article and watching her chuck the book at walls, I think it's safe to say I won't be reading it despite my curiousity. Or seeing the movie which is a shame, really, because Robert Pattinson really is very nice to look at.

Still, I'm a bit worried at how lack-of-self-awareness is becoming a prerequisite for writing a mega-successful book series these days. It's possibly just my cynicism showing through but between Meyer's "This is True Love! Really!" and JKR's plea for tolerance, my belief that canny self-reference can be found on the bookshelves of my local ASDA for less than a fiver may have been irrevocably shaken.

-Heather-Anne

(My flatmate's read through, if anyone's interested, is here: http://augustm.livejournal.com/ )