#but I was not actually expecting to like Youth this much and I completely overlooked it when I first saw his performance

[dyingstarsinyoursky]

Me listening to HOP solo songs carefully, trying to figure out which ones are my favourite.

I think it's Lee Know, Felix, Han and Changbin's solos.

Then realizing those 4 also had my fav solos of SKZ Replay LMAO

I had seen all their solos before, but I saw each like once, and I focused more on the performance than the song itself. Performances like IN, Hyunjin, Bang Chan and Changbin's catch your attention more, so I admit I overlooked Lee Know and Han's a bit at first.

But after listening to the album, focusing on the songs only, I realized how much I enjoy minsung songs.

Like on my first listen of the album, I was working on something on my computer while listening and Youth was the song that got me off my chair and start dancing. I didn't even think about, my body just did it. It wasn't even after I was already dancing that my brain processed that it was Lee Know's solo song.

Han's Hold My Hand is also so fun to listen to. Like it makes me want to scream "HOLD MY HAND" alongside Han.

Felix's Unfair is no Rev It Up, but it grew on me, and I actually really like the song. And I'm a sucker for Felix's voice

Changbin's Ultra I already knew was gonna be one of my favs, because the song itself actually caught my attention when I first saw his performance.

Hyunjin's So Good is quite fun. I'm not sure how I feel about certain parts of the song, but it is fun. Having established my TOP4, So Good probably comes in 5th.

Seungmin's As we are is really nice to listen to, but it doesn't stick with me. Like I know I quite enjoy listening to it, but I can't remember the song when not listening to it 😅

IN's Hallucination makes for such a wild performance, and it has a lot of quirky and fun elements and sounds in the song that I find interesting, but I don't think it's the kind of song I'll find myself listening to

Bang Chan's Railway is really cool, but not quite my style. So much like IN's, I might not end up listening to it to a lot. Though I admit it has the potential for me to like it more with more listens. I definitely like it more than Connected

=============

When it comes to SKZ Replay

Lee Know's Limbo takes the cake for me. The way that song builds up!! His voice is *chef's kiss* I don't think it was my favourite on first listen, but the more I listened the more I loved it

Felix's Deep End is beautiful in a gut-wrenching way. But bro his voice is divine. It sounds like 3 different people singing the song and it's beautiful. I am a sucker for his voice an any tone lmao I'm weak for his deep voice like everyone else because I'm only human, but his higher singing tone is my true weakness. And he added some falsetto too to spice it up even more.

Changbin's Doodle is a fucking banger. It is so much fun! Loved Ultra, but I love Doodle more. MY LIFE'S LIKE A DOODLE!

Han's Run is such a vibe. The instrumental at the beginning is phenomenal. Then add Han's rap to it and it's beautiful.

IN's Hug Me is so cute. Like it puts a smile on your face cause it's so cute. Like on the opposite side of the spectrum of Hallucination (Much like Deep End and Rev It Up for Felix. But they are very different spectrum. Felix's solos are depressing to hype spectrum and IN's are cute and innocent to uhmmm not so innocent spectrum LMAO)

I hate to do this to Seungmin twice, but Stars and Raindrops is nice to listen to, but I can't remember it when I am not listening to it T_T like when I am listening to it I'm like "of course it's this song" and I hum the melody along, but it doesn't stick with me afterwards.

Bang Chan's Connected is also not quite my style. But I still vibe with it.

Hyunjin's Love Untold is alright, but not a song I find myself ever going back to 😅 Like I won't skip it if it comes on, but I'll also not go looking for it to listen to.

[theggning]

Perfect timing for me to ask you this: what's your thoughts/opinions on Deacon?

It's always a good time to ask me to tl;dr, friendo, I love never shutting up, ever.

Ah, Deacon. The man of mystery, the liar, the Railroad's number one agent (though he'd rather you not believe it.) Everybody's favorite egg in shades. I really like Deacon. He's hilarious, handy in a fight, his voice acting is phenomenally fun, and has a lot of wise things to say about the lies people tell you to make you act in their interest.

Of course, Deacon's main character trait and personality is that he lies constantly. He is, admirably, upfront about the fact that he's a liar, and doesn't expect anyone to trust him. Sometimes his lies are clearly meant to be a joke. Sometimes they're a test, to teach the Sole Survivor a lesson about spycraft. But when it comes down to it, Deacon doesn't lie about important things, or things that will get someone in danger. He lies, with varying degrees of believability, so that when he *needs* to lie, nobody will know whether or not to believe him. He disguises himself, often poorly, so that when he *needs* to disappear, nobody will spot him.

But the thing Deacon lies about the most is himself. As with all the Railroad agents, his name is a pseudonym. He lies about being a synth (he isn't) and going places and seeing things. He lies about escapades he's been on and missions he's run. Even his appearance is a lie, as he admits he undergoes surgeries to change his face every so often. Every one of his affinity conversations ends with a charisma check revealing that he was lying.

And lies are all that you get from Deacon, until you reach his final affinity conversation. There, Deacon, unusually emotional and distraught, confesses that in his youth, he was a member of a gang called the University Point Deathclaws-- a hate group that targeted synths. After a particularly brutal murder turned Deacon away from the gang, he met and married a woman named Barbara. But years later, his old gang showed up at their doorstep and murdered Barbara-- as it turned out, Barbara was unknowingly a synth. Deacon proceeded to butcher every one of his former friends-- and impressed by his prowess and believing him to be sympathetic to the cause, he was then recruited by the Railroad.

If you believe that this story, too, is a lie, then we're left scraping for a motive or a baseline or just, anything we can actually use to pin Deacon down as more than a fleeting shadow.

People much more eloquent than me have dissected this reveal and all of their points are good and sourced, and they will do a much better job of it than I could, but in short, I do believe Deacon is telling the truth about his past. Everything from the acting to the expressions on his face to terrible things he confesses about himself point to real, genuine heartache under his usual glibness, and it also provides us a motive, one magical golden key that unlocks the most important facet of Deacon:

This man hates himself.

Deacon absolutely fucking hates himself. He hates his past, he hates his choices, he hates how he used to behave and believe, he hates what it did to the woman he loved. He views his service to the Railroad as atonement, that he also doesn't deserve and never will. Not only does the Railroad necessitate secrecy, making up lies, changing his face, turning himself into a mystery, but it also allows Deacon to pretend to be anybody else but himself (as MacCready ice burns him in one of their exchanges.) He fears that if anyone finds out the truth about him, spots even a small sliver of his real self, they will hate him as much as Deacon does. And he'll deserve it. The only future Deacon sees for himself is to die in service of the Railroad, in service of freeing the synths that he used to hate and victimize, in service of an organization he feels he's completely unworthy of belonging to.

This, I'm sorry to say to his fans, is the actual characterization/meta reason why Deacon isn't romanceable. Deacon hates himself so much that he's unwilling to let anyone know who he really is. He only barely feels comfortable exposing part of his past to the Sole Survivor at the end of the affinity conversations-- a romance would require letting someone in further than that, and Deacon not only refuses, but feels like he doesn't deserve it. Like, I cannot stress enough that in a canon full of companions struggling with self-image and varying degrees of hating themselves, Deacon is the undisputed Grand Champion of hating himself. He has a LONG way to go to finding even the slightest bit of worthiness in himself.

And that's really the sad and poignant part of Deacon. We can believe Deacon is a fun and likable guy with good intentions and a good cause. We can believe that a person can change at heart, can try to make up for their mistakes by doing good things. (I believe it!) But the tricky part is making Deacon believe it-- a man so thoroughly sunk in his own self-hatred that he truly doesn't believe he deserves to be forgiven.

Well, that was kind of a downer, so I'll rattle off some other fun facts about Deacon to close this out...

Deacon seems to be very well-read, with an interest in pre-War literature. OR MAYBE HE'S LYING?!

He is, however, very likely the same person as John D., a Railroad agent mentioned in Desdemona's terminal who came up with the dead drop system, the pyramid structure of secrecy, was the only survivor of an earlier Institute raid on Railroad HQ, and was also instrumental in rebuilding the organization. This raid took place in 2266, over 20 years before the game starts, so it's actually very likely that Deacon is in his 40s or even his 50s.

We all know Deacon (poorly) follows Sole through the early parts of the main quest, but he's been following them a lot longer than that. Deacon discovered the Institute's apparent interest in Vault 111 and theorized there was something inside that they wanted. This led Deacon to stakeout Vault 111, where he apparently sat and watched the doors for some time until the Sole Survivor emerged. (You can find his spot in the trees on a hillside overlooking the Vault doors. There's a chair, a few bottles of water, a sun shade, and the Railsign for "ally" carved nearby.)

And stolen verbatim from the wiki:

At one point in 2275, Deacon was kicked out of HQ by former leader Pinky Thompson because he was "sick of the lying, face-changing son of a bitch," after Deacon had spent a month as a ghoul, which "freaked a lot of people out."

[charming-2d-boys]

I'm about to get stupid specific! May I please have some Hisoka who's s/o has kids from a previous relationship (that he is very attached to) with 31 when the kids bio father tries rejoining their lives out of nowhere? Please and thank you!

Anon, I love you so much for this request! 😭💞

I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I did! 🙇

31. “They’re not your kids, back the f*ck off.”

A/N: a bit long, but I had too much fun and I just love the idea since I read something like this with other HxH characters by @ask-hunterxhunter (definitely recommend them, their writing is awesome and really well-thought).

Also, (E/N) stands for “ex’s name”.

-----

   When you had gotten into a relationship with Hisoka, you were a bit apprehensive. Not just because of Hisoka’s personality, but also because of your little... secrets. Anyone could figure out at least some of the reasons why getting into a relationship while having kids from a previous relationship was something to be slightly scared of. This was exactly your case.

   Of course, you hadn’t told Hisoka that you had kids during your first date. Or the next one. You really didn’t think that you’d get to go on even more dates with Hisoka in the following weeks or months, but somehow, you did. You were both getting along and everything seemed to go well. Maybe there was hope for this unlikely relationship. Maybe it was because of this that you decided to have a serious talk with Hisoka.

   Even during this date, he was as charming and teasing as always. He seemed the same even when you told him that you wanted to talk, though you thought you saw his smile falter a little. Honestly, you weren’t feeling any better. Hisoka didn’t seem like the type to settle down anytime soon and the thought of one of the most exciting relationships you’ve ever had in years ending so abruptly honestly left you feeling uneasy. But your children were more important.

   And that’s exactly what you thought about as you told Hisoka everything: the failed relationship that resulted in your daughter and son being born, the heartbreak and hardships, and the dating. You explained it in simple terms but with a firm conviction: since the relationship was getting longer and serious, you thought it would be the right thing to do; but it all depended on him. Hisoka’s face that day really left you wondering: would it work out? Would he leave you like others did? Or would he be the one to actually stay and try to make it work?

   Turns out, after a few days of radio silence, Hisoka asked to see you again. At least he’d break up with you face to face.

   Imagine your shock when Hisoka said he’d be okay with trying to work it out. Your kids were a little hesitant, but definitely open to meeting someone their parent trusted. Your daughter had immediately taken the initiative, shaking his hand as she introduced herself, while her younger brother timidly copied her. He did seem to be more confident when around you and his sister, but this was one of the moments when it didn’t apply. Hisoka just knew that he liked them already: kind and polite, but also brave - just like you.

   Hisoka had grown attached to them quickly, as did they to him. He was fun, coloured, knew magic tricks and seemed to be a magnet, always playful and charming. He was always up for playing with them and enjoyed the fact that they looked up to him. It was like watching two ducklings follow their mother whenever he’d be on the phone, talking and pacing around while your kids followed behind him, eyes sparkling and admiring him as they talked quietly about his conversation, coming up with their own ideas and theories regarding the caller and subject. It never failed to amuse your boyfriend and in turn, you.

   You had to admit that one of the best moments was after around a year or so of Hisoka being around and already considered part of the family. Hisoka was staying in your shared bed, both your daughter and son on either side of him, arms over his waist as he was reading. Their eyes were slowly closing, though you could see the struggle to keep them open as they blearily looked at the colourful pictures and tried to pay attention to his voice. It was honestly hard not to giggle or coo at the sight. Your boyfriend glanced at you, smiling and winking before going back to the book, making your heart beat faster.

   As soon as he was sure that they were both asleep, he took your son in his arms while you took your daughter, slowly taking them to their actual beds in their bedroom next to yours. When you were ready to leave their room, as you left only their nightlight on, you heard your son wish him goodnight, calling him daddy afterwards. Hisoka automatically wished him goodnight and left with you to your shared bedroom. He was quiet until the both of you were ready to fall asleep and your fingers went over one of his cheeks.

   “He called me daddy... ♣” He said in a low voice, looking a little... lost? And also little happy? Worried? You couldn’t really tell.

   “Are you okay with that, Hisoka?” You were worried. Your kids already saw your boyfriend as their father, which was adorable. But what did he think about this?

   Hisoka was quiet for a few more seconds before nodding, placing his hand above your own and keeping them both on his cheek. It must’ve really struck him if he didn’t really know what to say. But he seemed happier the more he thought about it.

   Soon, both of your kids started calling him that and when they saw that Hisoka didn’t say anything and neither did you, it became something official. You didn’t feel the need to ask your boyfriend about whether he came to see your kids as his own. The way he acted with them and how he was actually treating them so gently and lovingly was enough proof of what he actually thought about this whole situation - a shock considering how Hisoka could be. The father role fit him pretty well and you were sure to tell him that constantly, one way or another.

   What neither of you were expecting was a surprise visit from the kids’ actual father. Just like you’d told Hisoka when he curiously asked you, their father had left soon after your son was born. Apparently, being a father wasn’t really his thing, as he’d put it. You suspected that the fact that he couldn’t live his youth anymore or be with anyone else were also deciding factors in his decision to just up and leave in the middle of the night. You hadn’t heard anything about him for years and the fact that he just showed up at your house during a weekend was both shocking and confusing. The anger soon followed.

   “Hey, (Y/N)! Long time, no see.” Your ex greeted you, a smile on his face and looking almost the same as the last time you’d seen him. You couldn’t utter a word, but your eyes were wide as you stared at him, almost thinking that maybe your mind was playing tricks on you. But it was real, you knew it, so you quickly snapped yourself out of your thoughts.

   “What are you doing here, (E/N)?” You wouldn’t let him come in. And you also hoped that Hisoka was still staying with the kids on the couch, all of them watching TV together.

   “I came to talk. About the kids. About us.”

   “There’s no us. There hasn’t been since you left.” You crossed your arms, glaring at him.

   “Oh, come on, you have to understand and get over it already! I was young! I was scared! I wasn’t ready to have a family and raise kids!”

   “And I was? You think I was any more prepared than you?” You almost shouted, before realising that you didn’t want your family coming over or even being seen by (E/N).

   “Look, I’m not here to fight. I want to talk to the kids. I want to get back into their lives and-”

   “No. Absolutely not. You left and that’s that. If you would’ve come after a bit of time, maybe I would’ve overlooked this. But you came now. After so many years.” Your ex opened his mouth before you felt a presence behind you. You felt Hisoka’s arm go around your waist protectively before he gently came to stand beside you, slightly pulling you so you weren’t in front, just in case something happened. Though you both doubted that.

   “And who might you be? ♣” Hisoka asked with a smile, though it was one that you had never seen before. It looked cold and sharp, like it could cut. Your ex gulped, clearly feeling the bloodlust aimed at him that was slowly growing in intensity.

   “I’m (E/N). I-I’m here to talk with my kids.” You felt your boyfriend tense just the slightest bit and he actually made a card appear between his pointer and middle fingers.

   “Since when do you get to decide that? I think my lovely (Y/N) right here is the one who gets to decide who the actual father is. ♣” The TV was still on and you actually looked behind, grateful that your children were still in the living room. You only hoped that things wouldn’t escalate, though you already had a feeling things wouldn’t go so smoothly.

   “I am their father! I get to decide when I want to see my kids!” (E/N) shouted angrily, apparently not caring about the bloodlust anymore. That is, until he felt it come in waves. Even you started sweating a bit, scared about Hisoka’s power. You hadn’t felt anything like this before, not even during his hardest matches at Heaven’s Arena. This was another type of bloodlust - it was more personal.

   “They’re not your kids, back the fuck off. ♣” Hisoka’s smile was completely gone and he almost seemed taller, more powerful than before. It was also one of the first times you’d heard him curse like that and were honestly worried about where you’d hide your ex’s body if he got murdered. You squeezed Hisoka’s bicep subconsciously when you saw (E/N) open his mouth again, only to see him stand frozen as a thin cut appeared on his neck. One corner of Hisoka’s card had a bit of blood on it and both you and your ex stared at it in shock. A trickle of blood slowly started going down, staining his shirt while Hisoka stared at him with anger and barely restrained murderous intention.

   “Leave. ♣”

   You had never seen anyone run so quickly in your life. (E/N) almost tripped as he tried to get away, not even glancing back as both you and your boyfriend stared at his retreating back until you couldn’t see him anymore. Hisoka’s arm pulled you into his side and he pressed a kiss to your temple, sighing and making you return to reality.

   “Are you okay?”

   “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that, lovely? ♦️” You assured him you were fine before the both of you went back inside, finding your kids playing together while the TV filled the background with noise.

   “Daddy, who was that at the door?” Your daughter asked, confused, especially when she saw that you were both a little more tense than before. She must’ve noticed that you were both taking your time at the door and the yelling probably made her take action, trying to distract her little brother before you both returned.

   “No one important, munchkin, don’t worry~ ♥️️” Both of your kids ran towards you and hugged you before Hisoka scooped them up in each arm, both hugging him and then pulling you in as well for a big group hug. Hisoka smirked and kissed you on the lips, making both of your kids say ewww loudly before he also kissed them on the cheeks, with you tickling them.

   “Can we have pizza for dinner?” Your son asked, looking at you with those big, innocent eyes of his.

   “Sure, go and choose the toppings and everything.” Hisoka put them down before they dashed to the kitchen, where the menus were. You boyfriend hugged you tightly, kissing your neck and swaying you a little.

   “Thank you, Hisoka. For everything.” You hugged him back just as tightly, thankful to have him and your kids.

   “No need to thank me, lovely~ ♥️️” He felt just as thankful for the chance you’d offered him.

[thorns-and-rosewings]

Additional Owl House/ Gargoyles AU Info: OCs

Here we are with some more information regarding the AU, only this will time it will be focusing on the 3 OCs whose pics I posted a little while ago since I didn't think anyone wanted the bios jammed onto their pics.

Hope y'all think these are interesting. :)

-----Rhiannon Frostflame

Nicknames and Aliases: Rhyan or Rhya (Default nicknames) The Wyvern Witch, Ice Queen, The Best Healer on the Isles, Cruel and Fearless, Frozen Flame

Age: Roughly the same as Eda

Palisman: A Wyvern named Wisteria

Magic Specialty: Healing Magic, but is a master of Ice Magic and has created a unique spell of burning blue fire that inflicts awful frostbite and severe necrosis on anyone it comes into contact with...

Friends/Associates: Eda Clawthorne (Best friend and drinking buddy) Raine Whispers (A close friend who in spite of falling out of contact with, Rhiannon still holds them in high regards) Shaelyn Silverstone (Apprentice and Ward) Warden Wrath (Occasional Employer) Fiadh Stonespire (Grandmother figure/deceased)

Background: Rhiannon was born into one of the larger clans of the last name 'Stonespire' that still chose to follow the Gargoyle Way of communally raising their children and protecting their estate and other landholdings. They were also extremely prideful of their skilled members they contributed to the Construction Coven. From a young age, Rhiannon was considered strange due to her shunning of the clans expectations and rather developed an interest in becoming a member of the Healing Coven. Although in her youth she was particularly bad at anything involving healing, having turned several small animals inside out in her attempts to mend their injuries. Her lack of skill and stubborn pursuit of her dreams led her to be alienated from nearly all of the clan who began to treat her as an annoyance if not an embarrassment. The only individuals who showed her any affection were an older female Gargoyle named Fiadh, who Rhiannon viewed as her grandmother and Saoirse, the only rookery sister who cared about her and supported her goals.

Her fierce dedication to studying and mastering healing magics eventually paid off and she not only excelled, but grew to master every healing spell and even learned a myriad of techniques all aimed at helping others. Of course on the flip side of this, through her studies of how to heal she also learned how to inflict immense pain on others. Knowing to attack certain points where an opponent is weak in order to defeat them in a brawl, as it seemed to Rhiannon that most witches and demons had forgotten how to fight without using magic and thus a physical fight is something she can use to her advantage... And she got into fights A LOT.

When she finished her education and applied to the Healing Coven she found that she was denied membership due to her clan contacting the head of the Coven and warning him against letting her join due to her poor skills as a healer... As they had not paid attention to her enough to know of her improvement and eventual mastery of the art.

Denied her dream, humiliated by her so called clan and filled with an anger that could not be put into words, Rhiannon lost her temper and broke the jaw of the Coven Head and fled. Stating she was now going to live her life as a Wild Witch and never give a damn about anyone else ever again. She was promptly disowned by her clan, which was fine with her. She gave herself the last name of Frostflame after the spell she had created and has become synonymous with her very existence.

Personality: Rhiannon is a bit of a contradiction. At first she comes off as cold, calculating and selfish. She is extremely sarcastic and tends to believe that someone 'Can get away with anything, as long as they are useful to someone else.' Which is how she, as a Wild Witch, doesn't have a bounty on her head nor any warrents for her arrest. As she is a freelance healer whom people come to see when they either can't afford to go to the Healing Coven, or do not want there to be a record of the visit... But also members of both the Emperor's Coven and town guards bet on her in the underground fights and thus overlook that she is not in any coven... She is also not above blackmail and is currently holding a massive gambling debt over the head of Coven Head Darius. As further insurance to keep from being arrested or have the Covens forcing her to join.

However... If someone truly gets to know her, Rhiannon is a very devoted, kind hearted person who has been so burnt by the world she no longer desires to be a part of it. She has sympathy for those less fortunate than her and does genuinely wish to help the people who seek her out in need of help. She has an special soft spot in her heart for kids. Especially since in the depths of her ice cold heart she truly longs for a family. This is somewhat evident in how she took in Shaelyn and has done her best to watch out for the younger gargoyle. However her own bias's can be detrimental to the relationships she has... As she has repeatedly told Shaelyn to forget about finding out what happened to her family and missing memories. Arguing that if she forgot them there's probably a good reason for it. Which has led to a rift between her and her apprentice.

-----Shaelyn Silverstone

Nicknames and Aliases: Shae, (Default Nickname) Lyn-Lyn (From Luz)

Age: Roughly 15

Palisman: None at the moment

Magic Specialty: Is attending both the Plant track and the Oracle track in Hexside. As she has unusual visions... both while she is awake and in her sleep. These visions often warn of dark events yet to happen or strange unknown things from a past she cannot remember. While not being taught healing at Hexside, Shaelyn is receiving training in healing magics straight from her guardian Rhiannon. Due to the talent of her mentor, she doesn't believe she could learn more from the school in that subject. As for the plant track... She is in that to both hang out with her friend Willow but also to help with Rhiannons garden which tends to grow out of control more often than not. As well as helping maintain the health of the tree Rhiannon's house is currently sitting in...

Friends/Associates: Willow Park, Gus Porter and Luz Noceda (Best Friends) Rhiannon (Guardian)

Background: Little is known about Shaelyns past beyond her name. Try as she might the young Gargoyle cannot remember much of her life prior to her being found in the wrecked hull of a ship that was brought ashore by a bad storm. While she has 'Shadows of Memories' she cannot remember where exactly she was from or even the faces of her parents. Rhiannon found the girl when she was looking through the wreck and happened upon her buried underneath several heavy cargo boxes with a broken wing and a very bloody head wound. Rhiannon took her back to her home, deep in the woods and healed her. Upon realizing that the girl had no family and no memories and that she would be left in probably one of the orphanages on the Isles, Rhiannon took her in as her apprentice and Shae has been living with her for the last five years.

Although Shaelyn is in awe of her mentor and greatly admires and respects her, she often feels like a burden. Their relationship is not like that of a mother and daughter, but is probably closer to that of sisters. Or of an older sister attempting to be a mother to a younger sibling in the absence of any parents... Shae also has gone through several different means to try and find out what happened to her family... but her search has led to nothing but dead ends. It doesn't help that Rhiannon often tells her to let the subject of her family drop as she would not have forgotten them if they were close... And how she might not like what she finds if she ever does find anything.

Nonetheless, Rhiannon has done her best to take care of Shae and has enrolled her at Hexside, so she can learn other magics that Rhiannon cannot teach. It was here that Shaelyn came across the sight of Amity and Boscha bullying Willow... And using the other skills Rhyan has taught her, Shae started throwing punches and beat up both of the bullies and warned them to leave Willow alone lest they receive another beating... This was how she initially met Willow and later on Gus and the three formed a very close friendship. Some time later Luz would be introduced and Shae grows to be just as protective of her as she is of her other two friends.

Personality: Shaelyn is quite friendly and outgoing with her friends and is the first one to come to the defense of a kid that is getting bullied. Due to her training with Rhiannon she is actually pretty good at fighting physically... Unfortunately in earlier times this put Shae into direct conflict with Amity as she was often quite mean to Willow... Unaware of Amity's true nature, let alone the bullying she received from her family. Like her mentor, Shae can hold a grudge and has a long memory of people who wrong her and her friends... Only unlike Rhiannon she is more willing to give someone a second chance or allow them to make amends... This lets her and Amity to eventually become friends... Although she and Boscha will never get along and Shae will continue to administer black eyes whenever the other girl starts looking for a fight. But when it comes to complete strangers, Shaelyn can be very wary... As was evident when she and the others were looking at booths set up by the Covens for recruitment and she was approached by Hunter as the Golden Guard. Now Hunter, with his very lackluster social skills was attempting to just talk nicely and give Shae a few compliments... Unfortunately for him he came off as aloof and mocking her. This resulted in two punches to his helm and three into his ribs. The blows to the mask dented it so badly it became stuck and the blows to his ribs made it difficult to breathe... Resulting in him passing out and needing to be carried away by Steve.

Undoubtedly when she learns more about Hunter, she will be remorseful for kicking his ass.

-----Saoirse Fireglass

Nicknames: Saer (General Nickname) The Glass Maker, The Crystal Witch, Firebender and Wannabe-Matchmaker (From Rhiannon)

Age: Same as Rhiannon

Palisman: A unique serpent with four eyes and a golden moth shaped hood named Amaranth

Magic Specialty: Construction magic with the specialty of glassmaking and crystal working. She is also capable of using fire spells in a fight.

Friends/Associates: Rhiannon (Rookery sister and best friend) Eda Clawthorne (Friend) Lilith Clawthorne (Friend) Shaelyn (Niece-figure)

Background: Saoirse was born into the same clan and was even from the same clutch as Rhiannon, born with the family name of Stonespire. However unlike her Rookery sister, Saoirse was considered to be one of the most magically gifted gargoyles that had ever been born into the clan. She displayed immense talent in the construction track and was even able to master a very difficult branch of the track that dealt with glassmaking and crystal working. In spite of the heaps of praise and accolades she received amidst her family, she developed a close friendship with Rhyan and was always deeply off-put when she witnessed how she was ostracized by other members of their clan. Still upon completing her schooling she was quickly brought into the Construction Coven and was even taken under the wing of the Coven Head for a time.

But when Rhiannon was cast out from their clan, Saoirse was livid. One of the few times anyone could truly remember her getting angry. She was pretty much told by the clan leader that Rhiannon was a disgrace and that Saer was always special and brought a great deal of respect and admiration to their entire clan with her talent... so she needed to stop defending that lost soul and continue to move forward and possibly become the next Coven Head...

Saoirse formally cut ties with the clan right then and there.

She gave herself a new name and while still formally a member of the Construction Coven, she chose to renounce any Coven status she had an instead opened her own business. She did so with the blessing of the Coven Head, who remains her good friend to this day.

When it comes to her wayward Rookery sister, Saer deeply worries about Rhyan and would love to see her find a place in the world rather than trying to live outside it. Although she knows that the stubborn Wild Witch is unlikely to ever change her ways without reason...

Personality: Unlike Rhiannon, Saer is a bubbly, friendly and outgoing individual who always looks for the good in people... In fact she is probably one of the few people who believes there just might be some good inside the Emperor's heart. (When she voiced this Rhiannon laughed so hard she swallowed the cigarette she was smoking.) Due to this kind nature she has, Rhyan frequently worries about her being taken advantage of... Fortunately Saoirse also is quick witted and can pretty quickly tell if someone is trying to pull a fast one on her. She also has a weird gift for matchmaking, as she can just tell when two people are right for each other. It's something that Rhiannon frequently teases her about.

...Until she finds one stranger who seems to be just perfect for the Wild Witch...

[itsfunorwhateva]

Sweet Creature

Hi! I’m back with some more of an analysis type post! I hope this helps with a deeper understanding. I’ve provided sources where I got my information. I really tried to set this up and write this in a very informational/analysis way so it isn’t strictly an opinion. Also I want to say I haven’t read the entirety of Othello, but I have read some scenes and read complete analysis of the play to write this. Without further ado... Sweet Creature. 

While it seems that some people have a general understanding that Sweet Creature by Harry Styles references the tragedy, Othello written by William Shakespeare, most people don’t get why that is huge, not only in terms of Harry making this decision, but also in support of Sweet Creature being about Louis Tomlinson. 

So I’m going to break this into three parts to help make this make the most sense. 

1. The reference Harry Styles makes in his song, to the play Othello

2. Why an Othello reference is huge; more on the play

3. William Shakespeare and his sexuality/coding in other works

These will make more sense with further explanation(duh), but I’m hoping this will connect the dots. Also, a quick disclaimer before we begin, this information is coming off of google searches, and analysis that I’m reading, and some from information I researched for a research paper on William Shakespeare. I am in no way an expert on song analysis, literature analysis, or on William Shakespeare and his personal life. I really just hope to give people a base to start themselves on more research, and understanding of the topic. Happy reading!

1. The reference Harry Styles makes in his song, to the play Othello

Now there is not much to dig up or uncover here as the reference is actually pretty obvious. The term Sweet Creature, in which the song is titled, is said to have originated from the play Othello. Act 3, Scene 3, specifically is where the term of endearment (this is important to note, Sweet Creature is used as a term of loving, endearment) is first seen. 

“In sleep I heard him say ‘Sweet Desdemona, Let us be wary, let us hide our loves.’ And then, sir, would he gripe and wring my hand, Cry ‘O sweet creature!’ and then kiss me hard“ (Othello III, iii ,428-432). 

Some context for these lines of dialogue Act 3, Scene 3 is Iago telling Othello about his wife cheating on him. The scene has multiple instances of Iago expressing love for Othello, basically saying how Iago would not be telling Othello this if he didn’t love him so much. More on that for our next section. This first appearance of the term “sweet creature” is Iago telling Othello what he heard a man speak to Othello’s wife while the two were in bed together, all in a dream. Now the idea of cheating is not something to be too hung up on, but this is the context in which sweet creature first appears. While the term, Sweet Creature, is said form man to women - it is revealed to the husband from another man. Iago in which it is said may have homosexual desires/feeling towards Othello in this play. Personally I believe that Iago almost uses the term as a way to convince Othello that his wife is being loved by someone else, and maybe Othello should leave her to be with someone, like Iago, that could love him better. 

Sources for this section!

Harry Styles References Othello in new Single, Sweet Creature

https://genius.com/a/harry-styles-references-shakespeare-s-othello-on-new-single-sweet-creature#:~:text=The%20song's%20title%2C%20%E2%80%9CSweet%20Creature,originate%20in%20William%20Shakespeare's%20Othello.

Othello play

https://www.sparknotes.com/nofear/shakespeare/othello/page_166/

2. Why an Othello reference is huge; more on the play

Deeper meanings behind the characters and the play obviously take a bit more time and effort to really understand. Depending on what angle and the kind of understanding you have about the characters and situation in Othello you’ll think one way or another. Othello is partially about homosexuality (in a way that it is not the whole plot, but it does play a major part if you understand the context/characters). Not everyone thinks this and it’s normally not brought in class discussion/normal educational settings, but the fact remains. 

There are a few things throughout the plays that hint towards the characters sexualities. When looked at in the right light and context it can help make sense of not only Harry Styles’ reference, and way choosing Othello to reference is kind of a big deal, but also a better understanding of the play. One article writes, “In William Shakespeare’s The Tragedy of Othello the Moor of Venice Shakespeare leaves the character of Iago’s sexuality to be questioned. Although Iago has a wife, he drops slight hints throughout the play that he has homosexual thoughts or feelings toward other characters, but he uses his position in the military and his fear to suppress these feelings. These “hints” are shown through his wildly questionable story about Michael Cassio, his word choice when describing Othello, and his discourse with Rodrigo” (Homosexuality in Othello). 

The character Iago is a military officer, and it shouldn’t take a genius to understand that being in the military and being homosexual only equal no good. The American policy in the military of “don’t ask, don’t tell” was/is a more modern day policy but still shows how military personal were/are expected and required to act in regards to being homosexual. Simply speaking, don’t. Now thinking even more to Shakespearean time, an even greater restriction was likely in place for homosexuality and the military. This part of the character, Iago, is likely a huge reason people overlook any thought of the character having homosexual desires/thoughts. 

Even if you remove the circumstances surrounding Iago, and him being a military officer there are some others things throughout the play that hint towards possible homosexual desire/feelings. Iago is constantly informing Othello of his love for the other man, claiming to always be Othello’s, should he want him. Some of this can be chalked up to the language of the time, in being, love was used for both friend, and lover, but the extent in which Iago professes may hint towards something deeper. Others things include, Iago claiming to have “lay with” Cassio, another male character, and while some say this is simply in the barracks as fellow soldiers, others think this could have been to hint at being lovers. 

One other thing that isn’t necessarily the play at face value, but still supports the idea of Iago being homosexual, is that actors throughout history have chosen to play him either as a straight or gay characters. While, this could simply be a creative decision based on an actor individually, it still seems a bit huge. If nothing in the text supported Iago being gay, there would not be actors playing him this way. 

Sources for this section!

Homosexuality in Othello

https://www.cram.com/essay/Homosexuality-In-Othello/P3Z2W7LCX5Q

Is Iago Gay in Othello?

https://www.arogundade.com/homosexuality-in-shakespeare-is-iago-gay-in-othello.html

3. William Shakespeare and his sexuality/coding in other works

Final section is really just me helping you understand the feasibility of William Shakespeare writing his characters this way. There’s essentially two parts to understanding this and I’m going to try and help this make the most sense without going too overboard. One part is going to be how William Shakespeare has written other works. I’m going to focus more on his sonnets because I’ve already researched them for a paper in school, but they still stand with this point. The second part is going to be William Shakespeare’s own sexuality and why this is going to affect his written work.

Ok, so the sonnets. 

“The sonnets have a contrasting set of subjects - one set chronicles the poet's lust for a married woman with a dark complexion, known as The Dark Lady, while the other describes a conflicted or confused love for a young man, known as the "fair youth."‘ (William Shakespeare, his Life, Works, and Influence). 

So the sonnets were pretty revolutionary, exploring concepts such as love, lust, and even same sex relationships. This is observed in Shakespeare’s use of gender neutral terms and male pronouns, depending on the sonnet. This is pretty huge. When I did a sonnet analysis I chose two sonnets, which I’ll provide (Sonnet 18 and 29 - both are pretty well known and brought up in regarded to hidden messages/meanings). Both used pronouns that were either male or neutral, something that has been used forever to queer code in works, so do with that information what you will. A common analysis, is that William Shakespeare often wrote from personal experience, more so in his poems and sonnets, then in his plays, but nonetheless. 

Second part, Shakespeare’s own sexuality. William Shakespeare was married to a women, but that doesn’t exactly say much. Men were known to get married because it is the thing to do, without necessarily having any feelings or desires towards said women. 

When Shakespeare’s sexuality comes into question there a few things that are addressed. I definitely recommend reading the first source for this section, “Was Shakespeare Gay?”, it gives you a really good analysis and explores so many faucets of the question. I’m going to sum up the article and you can either read more or just take what I’ll explain. 

The article explains that when looking at Shakespeare’s works he is really good at getting into the minds of his characters, without necessarily having the experience to match the character, i.e. writing from Cleopatra’s perspective, or from a gay man’s perspective. However on the flip side of that, when Shakespeare writes of same sex experiences, he seems to have a wide variety of knowledge of very specific references and experiences, maybe leaning towards him having these experiences. People point out that Shakespeare’s sonnets are his most personal works, and imagine that, they are also the ones that reference same sex attraction and love. Now of course there is way more in the source, but here’s what I think are the most important/key points. It’s important to remember that sexuality is only able to be labeled by the person, but from different works, and cultural ideals, there are certain things to be said about Shakespeare himself. 

Sources for this section!

Was Shakespeare Gay?

https://www.shakespeare.org.uk/explore-shakespeare/podcasts/lets-talk-shakespeare/was-shakespeare-gay/

William Shakespeare, his Life, Works, and Influence

https://www.williamshakespeare.net/

Sonnet 18

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45087/sonnet-18-shall-i-compare-thee-to-a-summers-day

Sonnet 29

https://www.williamshakespeare.net/sonnet-29.js

Finally

Thank you for reading and I hope this made you think a bit. I want to repeat that I am in no way an expert, nor am I claiming to be. You are more than welcome to think whichever way you want about this information and I invite you to do your own further research. I hope this helped explain the reference and the importance of said reference in Harry Styles’, “Sweet Creature”. Thank you for reading, let me know what you think, and as always TPWK. xx

[j-amespotter]

★ epiphany – r. l.

"with you, i serve. with you, i fall down."

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Nymphadora Tonks (if you squint)

x. x.

Summary: Throughout his life, Remus fought many battles. Only once was he ever on the brink of victory.

Genre/Warnings: angst, war, death, torture, mentions of lycanthropy

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: i'm officially on summer break, so expect more writing from me!! this one actually took a lot of time and effort so please share your feedback. not a reader insert, just some canon character insight. i think about remus's last moments a lot :( let me know if you'd like to be added to my taglist!

masterlist

1978 - With you, I serve.

The moon was bright but not quite full. It shone on two boys, both fresh out of school and on the precipice of becoming men. As much as they tried to deny it, there was an aura of naiveté surrounding them, one that would soon deteriorate beyond their imaginations.

“Come here,” said Remus Lupin, a tall, tired boy, tugging his companion’s sleeve. “Behind the bushes.”

“It’s child’s play, this job. What’s Dumbledore playing at?”

Remus was paired up with James Potter, who was growing more and more impatient by the second. “Prongs, we are trainees. We’re lucky to have an assignment at all.”

The two friends were seated on a small hill overlooking a large, dreary house. It belonged to the Travers family, a family notoriously pureblood, notoriously Slytherin. A family most likely in league with the greatest threat to the Wizarding World in several decades—Lord Voldemort.

The severity of the situation remained unspoken between them. If caught, James and Remus would be killed within seconds. Remus silently wished he shared James’s conviction regarding the ultimate invincibility of the right cause. But there was something inside of him that would remain unconvinced for a long time.

“There’s no way Travers isn’t a Death Eater,” said James. “I say we attack. They know we’re careful. They’ll never see it coming.”

“Perhaps,” said Remus. “Although, I doubt they are unprepared. Stealth is the only path to success.”

James snorted. “Okay, Professor Moony.” Years later, the same voice on a nearly-identical face would be addressing him in the same manner, with an amount of long-faced sincerity that would destroy him. But Remus did not know that yet.

After a while, Remus broke the comfortable silence between them simply because of a lingering curiosity manifesting within him. “Do you really think we can win this?”

James turned toward him. When he spoke, Remus thought he sounded a little scandalized. “Of course I do. And even if we don’t, there isn’t a single part of me that won’t die trying.”

Remus hummed, though he could feel the hesitation brewing inside of him, the same hesitation he found himself constantly suppressing around his friends. It was not as though he didn’t share the same sentiment; that wasn’t the case at all. It felt blasphemous to let his thoughts wander at times, but he couldn’t help himself. The truth was loud and clear. Remus was fighting this war for those who wouldn't do the same for him.

Something about the setting and the shape of the moon kept him lost in his muddled thoughts. “Why did you become an Animagus?”

James looked slightly taken aback, running a hand through his hair. “You know why.”

“Indulge me.”

“Because, Remus, we care about you. We wanted to help you,” said James. “We still want to help you.”

“You have done more than enough, James.” And it was true. James Potters didn’t exist in the real world, and that was a fact that was becoming blazingly clear the longer Remus spent in it.

There was nothing more to be said after that. James only sighed, staring out with a strangely thoughtful expression. “You know something?”

“What?”

“Think I’m going to ask Lily to marry me.”

Remus swallowed. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” said James. “I haven’t told anyone.”

Remus found that hard to believe. “Not even Sirius?”

“No, not even Sirius. Just thought of it, actually. Besides, something tells me Sirius would laugh in my face.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” said Remus, though it was always hard to tell with Sirius. The idea of James getting married sounded so far-fetched, and yet, made more sense to him than anything ever had in his entire life.

“So, what do you think?”

What did he think? Honestly, he felt a twinge of envy that James had someone to propose to, that he didn’t have to think twice about it, that in all likelihood, when this war ended, James would live a long, happy, healthy life with his wife and enough children to form his own Quidditch team. “I think that you definitely should.”

James’s face broke out into a wide grin, one that made Remus feel warm inside. One that told Remus that it wasn’t actually a whim, that James had been thinking about it for weeks, and that when it came to Lily, he always seemed to turn to Remus. It was a bittersweet sentiment, but one that he had come to appreciate.

“Guess I’ll need to figure out who my best man will be,” mused James.

Remus rolled his eyes. “She hasn’t even said yes yet, Prongs.”

James harrumphed. “Of course she’ll say yes to becoming Mrs. Arrogant Toerag.” He puffed out his chest dramatically, only to lose his balance and fall forward into the bushes. “Wow, we really suck at this whole ‘stealth’ thing, don’t we?”

“Shut it, will you?” whispered Remus, though if he had known how few moments he had left to share with James, he wouldn’t have reprimanded him at all.

Suddenly, a scream coming from the direction of the house interrupted them.

“What was that?” asked James. Both boys had their wands at the ready.

“They’re torturing someone,” said Remus, suppressing a shudder. He winced at the sound of another piercing scream, one that shredded his insides with every resounding decibel.

James began to rise. “We have to go in and help them.”

Instantly, Remus grabbed his arm and pulled him down. “James, we can’t. We will blow our cover, we’re likely completely outnumbered, and we were told to call reinforcements if anything got serious. We are trainees, remember?” When James begrudgingly slunk down next to him, Remus nudged him again. “Send a Patronus to the Prewetts.”

As James retreated several yards into the woods to conjure his great silvery stag, Remus turned his attention back to the house in front of them. After hearing another scream, he was beginning to lose his nerve. We can win this, Remus chanted to himself like a sacred mantra. We can win this. We can win this. We can win this.

Three years later, wizards all over Britain would celebrate their victory over the Dark Lord. But with three dead friends and one a murderous traitor, Remus Lupin would have nothing to celebrate. And he wouldn’t for a very long time, not until he stared into a pair of startlingly green eyes in a train compartment several years later.

1998 - With you, I fall down.

His heart raced as he watched the silver dome shatter around the castle. A swarm of dark, hooded figures made their way towards them. With one hand over the photograph in his pocket, Remus thought of Teddy—his vibrant, turquoise hair, his soft coos, and the sparkly eyes that looked just like his own.

We can win this. We can win this. We can win this.

It is different now, he thought to himself, I have Harry. A son. A wife. For the first time in his life, Remus Lupin had a proper family.

We can win this. We can win this. We can win this.

He was able to see his reflection on a window. Under all the worry pooling his features, Remus saw the ghost of a smile that looked so achingly familiar— the weary but indestructible smile of a new father, the one he last saw during his final moments with James many, many years ago.

He thought of Dora, who, despite his desperate pleas, followed him to Hogwarts to fight what was beginning to feel like the end. After he righteously begged her to return to safety, she scoffed teasingly. “Honestly, Remus. You should know better.”

She was right, and there was nothing more to say. She kissed him hard before they went their separate ways for the last time. Remus weaved through crowds of warriors, gaze wandering from time to time for a glimpse of either his wife or his young protege. Any sign that Dora and Harry were alright would ease his ever-growing nerves.

We can win this. We can win this. We can win this.

He thought of a late-night in his dormitory. It was the end of his seventh year. The four Marauders were sitting on each of their four-poster beds, picturing this moment, having no idea what was to come, just the confidence that it would and that they would win.

“I think it’ll be at the Ministry,” said Sirius.

“Or Diagon Alley,” said Remus thoughtfully.

“With Dumbledore leading the charge,” added James, a note of excitement in his voice. “I’d give anything to see the end of him.”

“Me too,” grumbled Sirius, struggling to hide the bitterness lacing every word. It had only struck Remus then that Sirius would be fighting his own flesh and blood on the other side. He knew better than to mention it.

“We could die,” said Peter quietly.

“We could,” affirmed James. “But I have a good feeling about it. It’ll be our moment, lads.”

Remus had only heard of Wormtail's death from Bill, who heard it from Harry. Peter, so afraid of death, so willing to do anything to avoid it, killed by his own hand. The last of his friends to go. In his wildest dreams, Remus would have never thought that he would be the last Marauder standing. Alone.

But he wasn’t alone. Not anymore. He had Dora, Teddy, and Harry. Harry, brilliant Harry, the Boy Who Lived, the boy who, unbeknownst to him, changed Remus’s life. The boy who would carry out his father's dream. The boy who would win this for them all.

We can win this. We can win this. We can win this.

Remus heaved a tired sigh. His legs felt as though they were about to give out. Despite his unique set of skills, Remus spent more time sickly than able. Especially now, nearing the age of forty. No longer did he have the agility or stamina of his youth.

He was in the center of the fighting in the courtyard. Suddenly, Remus felt a sinking, silencing feeling inside of him. Swallowing it away, he turned around, grip on his wand accidentally loosening for the quickest second.

The man in front of him was smirking, a forthcoming light blinding any identifying features. Remus's wand slipped from his fingers.

The last thing he saw was green, consuming his vision like a swarm of Dementors closing in on him. The spell hit him squarely in the chest.

He always wondered what death would feel like, often equating it with the debilitating pain of his monthly transformations. But it wasn't like that at all. Death was like falling. An eternal, endless fall into nothingness.

Moments away from victory, Remus Lupin fell down.

Mischief Managed.

Taglist: @iwritesiriusly @sheismadness @she-seeks-magic @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @queenofblacks @duckie-dunham

[evax3]

what’s your opinion on parallels ppl like to draw?

like

sansa & lysa vs Sansa & Cat

Jon & rhaehar vs jon & lyanna

Aegon & Rhaehar vs Aegon & Elia

Dany & Aegon I vs Dany & Aerys

Arya & Lyanna vs Arya & Brandon

Sansa & Lyanna vs Sansa & Cersei

Arya & Cat vs Arya & Ned

Thanks so much for stopping by anon and for leaving this really cool question! I’m such a sucker for parallels and symbolism, so I do have a few opinions about these characters (Sansa, Dany and Jon under the cut – no opinions about Aegon) and had a lot of fun writing them down!! ❤️

Arya

What I really liked, and what stood out for me the most (in the show), is that after Arya accepted that she wasn't No One but indeed Arya Stark of Winterfell and came back to Westeros, she very much took on Ned's appearance. She gets dressed and wears her hair the same way Ned does, and shows confidentially that she takes right after her father, where her being the only one in the pack (beside Jon) who inherited the Stark-look (long face, brown hair, and grey eyes) wasn’t something she was actually proud of as a child. 

There are many more parallels between these two (the Baratheon friendship, the dislike of the southern culture and the people at court, their sense of loyalty, …) but what I like most is her understanding of the death sentence and how Arya has internalized Ned's teachings. The one who speaks the sentence must also carry out the killing. It is the opposite of what she is taught by the faceless men and in the end it is also one of the reasons why she realizes that she can never be truly No One. Which, I guess, is why she showed her face to every one of her kills that was on her list of names (at least in the show, but I'm sure it will be similar in the books).

I never thought much about the parallels to Lyanna, except that she also had the typical look from the north and was also much wilder than is expected for a noble-born woman. Probably it is one of the reasons why Ned encourages Arya’s nature instead of scolding her for it. But I think it says more about the relationship Ned had with either his sister and his daughter.

As for Cate I think the most striking parallel is probably their cunning. Which Sansa also inherited from her mother, and Ned unfortunately never managed to master, because he is too driven by honor. As women, all three are underestimated in this world, and yet (and perhaps because of this) manage to outsmart the men around them. For example, when Arya names Jaqen H'ghar as her third name in order to escape from Harrenhal, that was pretty damn clever and something that her mother would have done as well. 

Also, and sadly, their desire for vengeance is something that shapes and drives both characters (referring to Lady Stoneheart in the books) too. Because of that, I'm really curious if they will ever meet (if the next book ever gets published) and if there will be any revenge for Arya against the Frey's at all. 

Sansa

Just as Arya takes on Ned's appearance, Sansa does it with Catelyn's in the later seasons. I think this is particularly interesting because in the beginning, during her time in KL, she copied Cersei's hair and clothes, and later she copied Margaery’s. It shows her role models at each stage and it's particularly striking that at the end she takes on her mother's look, just as Cersei adapts that of her father Tywin. 

Even if the comparison between Arya and Lyanna is drawn much more often, I always found that Sansa and her aunt have much more parallels. The beauty of the two is something that is often highlighted in the story, emphasized, for example, as Rhaegar names Lyanna the queen of love and beauty at the tourney at Harrenhal, similar to Loras giving Sansa a rose at the Hand's tourney. I suspect that for both women this circumstance has led to their intelligence and other abilities being greatly underestimated, if not overlooked, in their very male-dominated world. 

Fortunately, Sansa has the chance to evolve into self-empowerment, which I think is the main focus of her journey, whereas Lyanna died way too early to achieve that. She was forced to marry a man she didn't want (Robert), (as was Sansa btw), so Lyanna saw the only way to prevent that in running away with Rhaegar. And I can imagine that early Sansa, the little romantic that she is, would have made a similar decision. 

I don't like that many say Sansa acts like Cersei in the later seasons because she admires her. I don't think that's the case at all. Cersei only acts out of self-interest (and sometimes, especially in the books, quite stupidly). Sansa, on the other hand, does what is right for her people. She combines her mother's strength with her father's understanding of the Northerners. 

She is cunning as Cate, which is not a bad quality per se, and develops an understanding when someone tries to manipulate her. At the same time, she always has the well-being of her people in focus, which Cersei definitely doesn’t. Which is why I think Sansa is a good queen and is just right to take Robb's place (the obvious choice if she were a man) and Cersei is absolutely terrible at her job.

Jon

I have to say, for Jon it’s almost the hardest to give an accurate answer, because the character (especially in the later seasons) differs a lot between book and show.  Regarding the show, I would say that Jon doesn’t have much in common with his birth parents, because he really is the reincarnation of Ned, the honorable fool, as he calls himself. Always trying to do the right thing, even if it goes against his heart’s desire.  

Rhaegar, on the other hand, does exactly the opposite in the plot for which we know him best. And even if his relationship with Lyanna is often categorized as incredibly romantic, it is one thing above all: selfish. Show!Jon couldn't be more the opposite.

Jon is a good leader, as Rhaegar was, or at least is praised to be. Both have melancholic tendencies, and at least book!Jon, has a tendency to sarcasm (at least in his thoughts) where it is said about Rhaegar , he often had an ironic undertone in his voice (according to Jaime)

Rhaegar is musical, interested in the fine arts, Jon doesn't really show interest in that. What they do have in common is a belief in something that is more than what the eye perceives. For Rhaegar this means believing in prophecies and such things, and Jon is not atheistic either, even if he lives out his beliefs in the Old Gods less than some other characters. Both of them are highly valued by their followers and I think also for both of them this is a quality that shapes their character a lot. 

Still, I have to say that for me the background of Rhaegar and Lyanna's relationship, the consequences especially for Elia and her children, but also for the whole country will always be in the spotlight.  

I've already read several metas that say book!Jon takes more after his birth father because his motives and actions are also less moral (e.g. only giving food to the people of the Free Folk who are willing to fight for the Night's Watch – a huge difference to the show version). Still, I would say Jon is more pragmatic than selfish, another area where Rhaegar would have needed to catch up if he’d been given the chance.

Daenerys

Whereas it was more difficult for me to think about Rhaegar's positive qualities in relation to Jon, I have to say that it was easier for me in relation to Dany. This might be because Daenerys is so frequently compared to Rhaegar as a compliment. Not only in her looks, but also with her intelligence, her determination and in the love that her people have for her. Ser Barristan calls him determined, deliberate, dutiful, and single-minded, all positive qualities that also apply to Dany.

As for Aerys, it's also hard to draw parallels. As I said in another post, I think the Targaryen madness is not really madness (being crazy) but more an obsession, whether it's about religion, dragons, or with Dany, her desire to liberate her people. What we know about Aerys, however, shows that he was indeed sick, paranoid, after his captivity. That is something different and not something I see or suspect with Dany. 

What I have found, though, are explanations about the young Aerys, which at some points apply to her:

In his youth, while not being the most intelligent, nor the most diligent of princes, he was described as having an undeniable charm. He was generous, handsome and resolute, although somewhat quick to anger. 

In the same paragraph, however, it is said that he was vain, proud, and fickle, qualities that made him easy prey for sycophants and sycophants. While Dany is proud, she quickly develops over the course of the story into a person who sees through the manipulation attempts of those around her and is clever enough to avoid them. 

There might be a possibility that through a traumatic experience (like for Viserys selling his mother's crown) her obsession finally drives her to take more drastic measures to achieve her goal. However, I think it's unlikely that Dany actually drifts into absolute madness like her father and burns down an entire city without thinking. She is much too reflective for that. Should she actually go completely ‘Fire and Blood’, then I think it will be a very conscious decision, rather than an impulsive one.

[twentiethcenturymoviesandtv]

The Goonies: A Product of the Times

Released in 1985, The Goonies came along right smack in the middle of a decade well-known for its movies centered on youth.  While there are plenty of fond memories of the ‘teen oriented’ films like The Breakfast Club, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and Adventures in Babysitting, Hollywood of the 1980s was focused on more than just the teenagers: it was also pretty heavily focused on what it was like to be a kid.

From Flight of the Navigator, The Explorers, and The Monster Squad to E.T., the Extra-Terrestrial, a lot of the films of the 1980s were about the adventures of people under the age of 14: children.  Ranging from sci-fi to comedy, to horror, to adventure, the movies about kids during this decade of the new and untested were getting as big as everything else: more and more impressive as an entire subgenre of children’s movies starring up-and-coming child stars (Drew Barrymore, Fred Savage, River Phoenix, Corey Haim, and plenty more) sprouted up out of the ground, playing the gambit of genres and allowing children to act in ways that hadn’t been deeply explored before.  These weren’t adult films with roles for children: a lot of these were movies about kids.  

Instead of movies like The Champ or Aliens, starring children in side roles, films like The Goonies, Return to Oz, Stand By Me, and Time Bandits starred kids in the main roles, carrying the stories themselves with incredible performances, broadening the horizons for adventure films about kids, for kids.

Such is The Goonies, a film that really could only have been made in the 1980s.

How do I know that?

Simple.

As we’ve discussed before, no film ever made is separate from the culture it was created in.  Every single movie, television show, radio broadcast, book, newspaper, comic or song ever made has been directly impacted by the culture and other pieces of media surrounding it.

This seems pretty obvious: after all, a product made by people living in a certain kind of culture is going to reflect that culture.  No film is an island, and while that seems pretty self-explanatory and without much need for discussion, in an era with more and more pieces of media debated as to their worth to a modern viewpoint, it leaves those of us who enjoy older movies with a very important question:

How ‘dated’ is too dated?

It’s not as easy a question to answer as it might seem.

See, ‘dated’ is an interesting term.

Typically, the word ‘dated’ is used to apply to anything discernibly created in a specific time period.  It’s synonymous with ‘old fashioned’, when applied to a film, it carries the implication that the movie is less understandable by those looking from outside that particular culture or time period, worsened by the cultural drift.  This would be a film that hasn’t ‘aged well’, most often describing contemporary films of the day.  By contrast, a film that’s considered ‘timeless’ is the exact opposite: a film that remains completely understandable following a change in the culture.  This is a film without a cultural footprint or identity, without any actual context, able to be enjoyed no matter how much time has passed.

These are words that get thrown around a lot in the film world.  There are plenty of arguments over which films are timeless, and which are dated, whether Die Hard shows its age too much to be enjoyed, or whether Commando is too ridiculously ‘80s to be watched in any other context, but the fact is, the argument is a lot more complicated than it seems to be boiled down into.

We’ve talked a lot about definitions, but the fact is, by strict definitions, no movie, or any piece of media ever made, is actually ‘timeless’.  Every film is a product of its times, but that does not mean necessarily that they are defined by their times.  With this in mind, films like The Terminator and Predator, while set and made in the 1980s, are not exactly dated, because they are not defined by the 1980s.  Anyone with the slightest understanding of the idea that times change can accept things like hairstyles, music changes, and special effects.  Like I said, a film is considered ‘dated’ if it is less understandable or enjoyable in hindsight, from a place outside of that specific culture, and things like the movie tips and tricks of decades past are fairly easily forgiven.  

Less easily overlooked are ideas.

If a ‘timeless’ film is a movie not defined by its own times, then a ‘dated’ one is a film that is defined by its culture, typically in a negative way.  

So, the question is: which is The Goonies?

Timeless iconic kid’s adventure film, or dated ‘80s flick?

Well, it’s kind of hard to say at first glance.

By externals, there’s no question.  The way the kids are dressed and Mouth’s use of the word ‘gnarly’ pretty clearly set this film in the mid 1980s, as does the fact that nobody has a cell phone to call their parents.  But as we’ve already established, there’s a bit more to it than that.

The cast is fairly typical of its day: all white except for Rosalita, the Spanish-speaking housekeeper, and mostly male.  The two female Goonies do allow for a little more range than is sometimes portrayed in kid adventure films, with a Tomboy and Girly Girl dynamic that normalizes more than a standard Token Female per group, and even Mama Fratelli (although by no means a role model for young girls) balances out by being a memorable villain, bringing the gender ratio a tiny bit closer to even than a lot of contemporary films.  With that said though, there isn’t really anything that I’d argue idea wise in this sense that dates the film terribly badly, aside from a series of fat jokes at Chunk’s expense and a moment where Andy is given the unfortunately expected treatment of having her date try to look up her skirt, which was considerably more shrugged off at the time (although she does get him for it later, offscreen).

And there are other elements too that indicate that this film is from a different time:

A PG in 1985 for a kid’s film was very different from a PG now, and it shows.  The language used by a lot of the kids, as well as the violence, drug jokes, and other material has proven to shock more than one fan who went back to watch The Goonies as an adult.  And that’s not all: the basic concept of kids banding together in this way, while making a resurgence in the form of Stranger Things, hasn’t really stuck around for very long.

After the 1980s, the ‘band of kids’ adventure story somewhat died out.  By the 1990s, the ‘kid’ adventure stories calmed down, with lower stakes and less danger, and while the trope still appears in ‘retro’ nostalgia pieces, for the most part, we simply don’t see it anymore, and the idea still tends to bring to mind stories like Stand By Me, The Monster Squad, and even It.

It’s just a statement of fact, and not nostalgia, to look at this film and remark: “They don’t make them like this anymore.”  Because they don’t.

In most movies today, kids don’t run around in tunnels, having a blast and looking for buried treasure without their parents or any adult supervision, with their lives in danger, all the while quirky, peppy music assures the audience that everything’s going to be okay.  That’s not necessarily good or bad, it just means times have changed, and that the way that The Goonies was made was directly influenced by the types of movies coming out at the time.

However, while that style may bring to mind the 1980s, that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s specifically enjoyed in that era.

As a matter of fact, there’s a lot about The Goonies that’s like that.

The basic premise of the story, while not necessarily common anymore, is still understandable to people decades later.  Just because we no longer dress or talk like 1985 anymore doesn’t mean that the core essentials of the film are rendered completely unrelatable.  Kids still become friends and don’t want to move away from them, that much is understandable.  Even though the style of filmmaking has changed, the characters really haven’t: we all know a Data, or a Mouth, or a Chunk, or a Mikey, sometimes we even are one of them.  Kids understand the danger they’re in: not just losing their lives, but their homes, their friendships.  These characters and their story still ring true decades later, even if there are things about it that point to its creation being set in the mid ‘80s.

In short?

No, The Goonies probably couldn’t have been made today.  But that doesn’t mean it can’t still be enjoyed today.

There’s surprisingly little that actually harmfully dates the film itself, and the film is, in many ways, just as exciting and fun as it was when it was first released.  Honestly, there’s the possibility that due to the lack of movies like it made today, the film actually has a larger impact and is more unique and memorable now than it was in 1985.  

And while the quality of the film has not shifted, as the time around it does, I think we’ll find that as the film gets older, more audiences will continue to discover it, forty, fifty, sixty years later and find that the movie still tugs at a nostalgic part of them and makes them feel like children again.  

The Goonies is a fun, exciting, charming story that has remained beloved so long partially due to nostalgia, but also because people genuinely love the story and characters, proving that a film is ‘timeless’, not because you can tell what decade it was made in, but because it has endured, because people still enjoy it after the culture has changed.

If you can watch The Goonies and love these characters and enjoy their adventure, it doesn’t matter that Mouth is wearing parachute pants or that some of the character cliches haven’t been used in thirty years.  In the end, a film’s quality has little to do with how easily we can tell what time the film was made in, and a lot to do with what it’s about, and how well people remember it.  If that’s the criteria, then The Goonies is pretty timeless.

The Goonies has lasted this long as an ‘80s staple, and an adventure movie classic in general because no matter if it’s 1985 or 2085, people can understand it, enjoy it, and relate to the characters and themes.  And that’s the reason it will continue to endure.  

It’s been over thirty years since those kids first trekked into the caves to save the Goondocks, and the audience for this film has done nothing but grow since then.  The characters and the heart of the film have gone unchanged since then, still entertaining and even touching audience members who remember what it was like to be a kid and want ‘their time’, and they will continue to endure for decades.

Thank you guys so much for reading!  If you have something you’d like to add or say, don’t forget that the comment box is always open!  I hope to see you all in the next article.

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Another Day

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Han Jisung (SKZ)

Warnings: Language

Genre: Arranged Marriage AU; Royalty AU

Word Count: 2K 

Summary: Y/N is nothing special. She’s the daughter of her village’s blacksmith, and she used to be in love with her friend, Seungmin. However, after a chance meeting with Prince Han Jisung of the Royal Court, Y/N suddenly finds herself a bride-to-be after she indirectly captures his heart.

A/N: I love this concept so much! My first attempt at writing shorter plot fics.

Summer was everywhere. I could feel it underneath the influence of the afternoon sun or standing amidst the humid air after an evening’s thunderstorm. Consequently, Seungmin and I spent an unusual amount of time at the river with the other children from the village. Because the water became necessary protection from the brutal heat, and we often swam together as two people who took advantage of an opportunity to escape. It was also nice to spend carefree hours with my friend, especially considering my affection for him.

At one point in my life, I was convinced that I was in love with Seungmin. His eyes reflected the youthful spirit of his innocence, and he understood me better than most people, including my own family members. Yet, I had also come to realize that we were never fated to be together in a romantic partnership. It was a bitter pill to swallow, and I had a lot to accept before I could truly acknowledge his permanent role as a childhood friend.

Of course, so much had happened overtime to direct the trajectory of my personal affairs. It practically forced me to disregard my intimate feelings for Seungmin, and I would’ve been fine with that under any other circumstances. But my inevitable parting from one of the most important sources of happiness in my life often left me feeling dejected.

In fact, I could hardly enjoy the relaxing effects of the water with the other children, floating next to Seungmin as I closed my eyes. My future had already been decided without my autonomy, and I still wasn’t sure how to handle the circumstances surrounding my recent courtship. It didn’t help that I was being forced to move far away from my home village, and I would leave behind my family and friends for something that I could barely understand.

“When are you leaving?” Seungmin asked me later on after we pulled ourselves from the water and sat on the banks of the river overlooking the mountains beyond.

“Soon,” I replied, studying my reflection in the glistening surface.

The inquiry reminded me of when I met two very strange boys on a warm, spring morning, completely unaware of the consequences after speaking my mind:

I had been minding my own business, tossing bread crumbs into the water for the fish who quickly darted to the surface to eat the small morsels. It was an easy way to lose myself to the pleasant effects of nature, which is why I didn’t notice the wayward horse at first. In fact, it only became a problem when the animal started charging in my direction, and I instinctively jumped into the water to avoid a potential impact. 

However, once I rose to the surface, spluttering around the water drenching my hair, I saw a man run by calling for the animal. He successfully tracked it down, taking charge of its reins and offering the beast several pats along its flank. “Hey!” I shouted, heaving myself out of the water to storm over to him. “What are you doing?”

The man in question turned around to face me, glaring through narrowed brown eyes and a curtain of dark hair. “I’m taking care of my horse.”

“Your horse was out of control!” I exclaimed. “He could’ve hurt someone, including me!”

“Nothing bad happened,” the man said. “You’re fine.”

“That’s rude, don’t you think?” I asked him, jabbing my finger against his chest. “Who raised you to have such bad manners? Can you really be that dismissive of someone?”

“I wouldn’t try that again,” the man said, reaching for the scabbard around his waist.

“Go ahead,” I taunted him because I refused to back down. “See what happens.”

Oh, how those taunting words fueled my resolve! But right before the man could attempt to retrieve his weapon, another unexpected voice interrupted our potential confrontation. “Hold on, Changbin.”

I faltered slightly at the unexpected command, and I looked behind me to study the unfamiliar figure approaching us with sandy-brown hair and gentle blue eyes. “Who are you?” I asked, affronted that I was faced with two arrogant mischief-makers.

“Forgive him, my lady,” he said, and I could tell that he was clearly amused by our interaction.

“I will not!” I declared. “He was irresponsible!”

“Yes, but he was actually helping me,” he replied. “I lost control of my steer. Your anger should be directed at me.”

“Either way,” I growled. “I’ve had enough of both of you.”

I started to walk away, recognizing that the situation had escalated beyond my control, but the newcomer grabbed my arm and prevented my exit. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“Y/N,” I snapped, pulling my arm free. “Are we finished here, gentlemen?”

He nodded his head while wearing a bright smile despite the circumstances. “Please accept my sincere apology, Y/N,” he said, ducking his head respectfully. I rolled my eyes in an exaggerated fashion and chose to ignore him, turning my back to both men as I stormed the rest of the way home. And I never anticipated meeting either of them again.

“I’ll miss you,” Seungmin said to draw me from the memory. His words were a heavy reminder, and I felt my heart sinking low inside my chest.

“Me too,” I replied. Because I would be marrying the king’s son at the end of the month to become a princess in my kingdom. Then, my carefree days of youthful innocence would be gone forever.

Unfortunately, I had made a memorable impression on the kingdom’s young Prince Jisung, even though I was unable to recognize him at the time. But I still could’ve never anticipated a marriage proposal at his behest. Especially when I opened the door to the small cottage that I shared with my family while greeting one of the King’s royal viziers. He wore all black to match the sardonic look on his weathered face as he handed me a summoning to the court.

The recollection still haunted me to this day, and I found myself on the receiving end of several visits from Jisung leading up to our marriage date. At first, I feigned illness whenever he came to the cottage, ignoring the sharp looks from my mother who was simply awe-struck that a member of the royal family had chosen to wed me. But in spite of my arguments, my mother eventually forced me to accompany the Prince on one of his excursions to the countryside, and it was with great reluctance that I drug myself downstairs to meet him.

“You don’t look sick,” Jisung remarked as if he knew that I had been feigning my weakened condition.

“How would you know?” I returned, wincing when I felt my mother’s grip tighten around my arm.

Jisung smiled at the question, bowing his head politely in my mother’s direction. “I’d like to take you on a walk with me, Y/N.”

I scoffed at the suggestion, but my mother cleared her throat. “She would be honored. Isn’t that right, Y/N?” I forced myself to nod, glaring at Jisung who still somehow managed a smile.

However, despite my best attempts to ignore him, Jisung made that extremely difficult by launching himself into polite conversation. He talked about his forthcoming nomination because the King would officially announce him as the successor to the throne. I noticed that he seemed incredibly proud of the statement, but I couldn’t find it in myself to share the same sentiment since I thought that it was nothing to brag about considering his place of privilege.

“I’ve been waiting to see you again,” Jisung said, leading his horse by its reins as we walked along the riverside. “If we’re to be married, then we should learn more about one another.”

I frowned at the comment, running my hand alongside the mare’s neck as I rode on the saddle. “Is that what you want?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Jisung asked, bringing us to a stop next to a pasture. He held out his hand for me, and I reluctantly allowed him to help me down. “I can sense reluctance on your part,” Jisung whispered into my ear, and I shivered at the accurate assessment. 

“It was an unexpected arrangement, your majesty,” I said, and I tried to pull away from him even as his hold remained firm.

“When I met you, Y/N, I knew that I had found somebody who could stand by my side as a fearless partner,” Jisung said. “You didn’t even recognize me as the Prince, unlike those other girls in the villages who swarm around me whenever I visit on behalf of my father.”

“Partnership,” I enunciated carefully, ���is the most that you’ll ever have from me.”

“It’s enough for me, Y/N,” Jisung said. “Love cannot be bought or manufactured, but I hope that your feelings for me will grow in the future.”

He smiled at me again, releasing my hand to walk towards the river. I watched him cautiously because, for the first time since we had met, I felt something akin to respect after hearing the prince’s expectations. Perhaps there was potential in our union, but only time could truly reveal those layered secrets.

On the morning of my wedding, I found it suddenly very difficult to breathe. It was a combination of my impending nuptials and the tight corset wrapped around my chest. So, I closed my eyes, trying to control my fluttering heart, but it was hard to concentrate amidst the flurry of handmaidens moving about the room. “Miss Y/N,” one of them said. “You look beautiful.”

At her declaration, I glanced at the mirror and frowned because I could barely recognize myself underneath the layers of beauty products and the expensive gown constricting my form. “I guess I’m ready,” I whispered, and I allowed one of the girls to grab my hand, guiding me out of the room. 

It was a torturous walk to the throne room, feeling my heart beating thunderously against my breastbone. I focused on my breathing, and allowing one step at a time to lead me closer to the blaring music that was playing from the church organ. “We’re here,” the handmaiden said, releasing my hand and reaching out for the massive doors, pushing them open to reveal a crowded room full of distinguished guests and royals. I didn’t recognize any of their faces, but I found a strange solace in Jisung’s appearance as he beamed at me from the stage. “You’ll be fine, Y/N,” I tried to reassure myself, proceeding down the carpeted aisle, keeping my head held high because I refused to feel intimidated.

“Beautiful,” Jisung declared when I was finally close enough to hear him, and I quickly turned my head to look at the priest and avoid the heated look in his gaze.

The priest commenced with the regular script, holding out his hands as if he were to embrace us, but I was frozen to my spot. Instead, I tried to focus on the sunlight streaming in from the windows in long, angular rivulets of fantastic colors. It was a useful distraction, and I even failed to notice Jisung who had suddenly defied the priest’s direct order for silence. He leaned in closer to speak above the priest who continued leading the ceremony. “Don’t be nervous. I’ll always protect you,” Jisung promised me and, perhaps if I ignored the crown resting on top of his head, I could imagine that we were just a boy and a girl who were about to embark on a glorious partnership for the rest of their lives. 

[duxhess-kryzewan]

Maybe they're running away from the police and to distract them Satine just pushes Obi-Wan into the next wall and makes out with him. It works, the police just walks by, but the both of them have a hard time breaking apart and Obi-Wan is really emotionally confused. The ride to their hotel is just really awkward at first, but as soon as they're in their room they just continue.

He was no stranger to being on the run with her. In fact, it had consumed most of their lives for the better part of a year back in their youth. But then it was all in attempt to protect her. He supposes he's doing them same now, but it had been from bounty hunters before, not the people who were supposed to be part of the good guys.

She takes a sharp turn down an alley, and he prays it provides just enough cover of darkness that they can escape, but he only finds a dead end instead. They were doomed if they didn't get out of there fast.

"This isn't good." He says to her, frantically looking around for some form of escape. 

The stomping off feet on concrete grows closer, and by the growing fear on Satine's face he knows she hears them approaching too and the daunting truth is becoming more and more of a possibility; if they're caught, the Republic would imprison her.  

A shout echo's through the alleyway and he's certain that this is the end, that he's failed to get her to safety. 

"Do you trust me?"

He blinks, "What?"

"Do. You. Trust. Me."

He wonders why she would ever have to ask such a thing. She should know without a doubt that he trusts her. But questioning her would have to wait for another time.

"Of course."

He's not sure exactly what he had been expecting from her, but being pushed against the cold wall of the surrounding building and kissed by her was no where close to what he anticipated. 

Not that he would ever admit it aloud, but the sensation of her kissing him after all of these years overwhelmed every nerve ending in his body to the point that he almost forget that they were being hunted.

"Don't move." She whispers to him, as if he had any intention of doing so.

It's a good plan, he rationalizes. Smart. Clever. Pressed that close together with their cloaked faces made it impossible to tell who they were. For all the people chasing them knew, they were simply a young couple getting intimidate in a back alley.

His hands tug gently at her waist and he pulls her just a bit closer than she actually was and it dawns on him how long it truly had been since he had held her. Its only to distract them. He told himself. It doesn't mean anything. Rationalizing had always been one of his strong suits. He feels them approach, lurking slowly past the alleys entrance and for a moment he truly thinks that her plan didn't work, and that they had seen right through them.  

But then he senses them retreating down the street. Still, he makes no move to break the kiss yet -- for their safety, of course -- until he was beyond sure that they had fled. Or just a bit longer.

To be thorough, he assured himself.

Cupping her face in his hands just to kiss her more soundly was also part of being thorough. Keeping up an act was important when you were trying to sell a cover

It's what he was telling himself at least; and if it was a little more personally motivated he decided he didn't want to think about that too hard. Even if he wanted too, the sensation of her pressed against him was enough to render his cognitive thinking a complete mess. She's the one who pulls away from him though, saving him the responsibility of breaking their connection. He lets out a mental sigh of relief and thanks whatever omnipotent being is overlooking them; he truly didn't know if he had the strength to stop kissing her. "We need to go." She whispers. There's a look in her eyes that he can't quite decipher. Confusion, perhaps? He understood the feeling too well.

They stay in the cover of darkness, weaving in and out between buildings and people that littered the streets of the city. If they could just make it to Padme and deliver the card with the true recording then they would be in the clear.

"We have to go to the Senate building," he tells her, "Padme will be able to get the information to the chancellor then."

She nods, "Then we need to move."

He grabs her arm before she can get more than a step away from him and turns her to face him, "They'll arrest you."

"I know," she says solemnly, "But it'll buy you enough time to get to Padme."

He doesn't like the plan. The idea of her getting arrested shook him to the core, but he knows it's the only way to truly get her name cleared.

"I don't like this."

"Me either, but it's the only thing we can do."

He sighs, "I know."

_________________________

The commotion had been too much in such a short amount of time that he really hadn't gotten to see her between the time they had arrested her - a sight that made him a bit sick to his stomach - and when she had been released from custody on order of the Chancellor. The galactic senate had been in session with her since the full recording of Almec had been revealed.

"Waiting for your girlfriend?" Anakin had asked.

"They've been in session for- she's not my girlfriend, Anakin!"

Anakin rolls his eyes, "Whatever you say, I just don't know many people you would risk your loyalty with the Republic for. Harboring a fugitive is a rather serious risk."

Obi-Wan glares, "And so is continuing a secret affair with a senator."

Anakin left rather quickly after the comment.

Lucky for him, only moments later session had ended. Senators had filed out in groups, the last of which contained Satine and Padme, who were chatting quietly amongst themselves.

"Duchess." He greets before looking at Padme, "As always Padme, your willingness to help is invaluable."

Padme nods politely, "Of course, I'm overjoyed that I could help Satine reveal the truth." Padme turns to look at her friend, "Would you like me to summon the Senate guards to accompany you back to your suite?"

Satine shook her head, "That's quite alright, I was actually hoping that perhaps 

Master Kenobi would escort me," she glances over to him, "Given the events that have unfolded since my arrival we haven't had much of a chance to catch up, and I leave just after sunrise tomorrow."

Padme looks from Satine to him, and he clearly see the amused look in her eye. 

God help him, she was just as bad as Anakin.

"Whatever he Duchess deems best." He replies, trying his best to remain professional despite the look that Padme was giving him.

After the two women exchanges goodbyes, and some questionable whispers between them, they walked silently down the vacant hallways and it's only when the elevator comes into sight that he realizes he's going to be confined in a closed space with her, and suddenly all he can think about was their kiss in the alleyway. Truthfully, he really hadn't thought of much else aside from clearing her name and now that she was no longer a fugitive the kiss occupied every spare thought.

He looks at her as the doors slide close, wondering just how much she was thinking about what happened. Was it just a cover to her? It certainly didn't feel like it. But then, women weren't really his strong suit. Or emotions, for that matter.

In truth, he was more confused than anything. He had always known that she was important to him, but their alleyway make out (there was really no other way he could describe the interaction) had stirred up long buried feelings. Hadn't he gotten over her by now?

Clearly not.

When the doors open, he gently places his hand along the small of her back and guides her down the hall towards her door. His skin burns pleasantly from the touch and he swears he's sees the slightest hint of a blush tinge her cheeks.

"Shouldn't your guards be stationed at your door?" He notes as they approach the suite.

"I dismissed them." She says with a shrug.

An eyebrow quirks up, "Doesn't sound very safe for a person of your nobility. Who know what dangers are-"

She cuts him off, "-lurking around the Senate Building?

He glares at her. She did raise a good point, the building was as safe as any, but he still didn't like the idea of her not having her guards around. Satine was no stranger to attempts on her life.

They stop when they reach her door, his hand still on her back and its dawns on him that it's all around possible that this is the last time they'll see each other. Such is the lives they have chosen to live. 

"You are an invaluable asset to me, Obi-Wan." She says, placing a hand gently on his forearm, "Always my Jedi Knight to the rescue."

He smiles at her, "Of course, my dear."​

The tension between them only becomes more palpable when the pet name slips out and he wonders if she's having the same struggle too. The idea that it didn't mean anything to her was almost more unbearable that if it did. 

"Satine," he says softly, "About earlier-"

Her lips pressing against his cuts him off and he wastes not time gripping her at the hips and pulling her too him. 

He's not totally sure who opened the door, but he knows he's the one who kicked it shut behind her. This time, there was no one after them. Gone were the cloaks and fear of being arrested and instead came a reignited longing for one another and force how was he ever going to stop kissing her?

When the morning light fills the room he finds Satine curled up into his side, her head burrowed against his shoulder and arm wrapped around his waist. He trails a up and down the bare skin of her back until her eyes flutter open.

She kisses him again and he knows that yes, it meant something to her too.

[jokertrap-ran]

(时空中的绘旅人—For All Time—) EVENT! 「艾因 • 2020生贺」 Ayn 2020 Birthday Celebration Translation

*For All Time Master-list *Proofread by @crazy-moko *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut! *Maintaining Ai Yin’s name as Ayn. *Join the For All Time discord!

“In a hut shrouded in the winter's sunlight, a sweet scent enveloped us as we both shared the same cake.”

I rushed to make a small bunny-themed birthday cake for Ayn before our agreed meet-up time. The finished product looked pretty good, despite how I was only a beginner in sweets making.

Packaging the small cake properly, I headed off towards the address that Ayn had sent me.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Following its location on the map, I found myself arriving at a small hill by the sea not far from the school.

I surveyed the surroundings; The atmosphere here was peaceful and serene, overlooking St. Shelter's University alongside the vast sea, yet Ayn was nowhere to be found.

Just then, I received a text message from Ayn.

Putting my phone away, I followed the instructions that he had sent and found a hut; I pushed the door open.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Ayn's hut was by no means big, but the things piled up within were plentiful, to say the least. Music records, a skateboard, gaming consoles… A single glance around was all it took for me to realize that they were all his favorite things.

From the looks of it, it seems like he comes here often. Recalling his practice room and the piano room, the phrase "A crafty rabbit has three burrows" suddenly resonated within my heart.

Just how many more secret bases does this person have that I don't know about?

I set the cake that I was planning to give him down and took a seat on his sofa. The sofa was soft and pretty comfortable...

Let's rest a little before Ayn arrives.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

!

I had originally intended to recline and rest on the sofa for a while, but I never expected that I’d actually drift off.

I didn't know how much time had passed by either. I rubbed my eyes and was about to take my phone out to check the time when I saw a figure dressed in red before me.

It's Ayn!

I hurriedly sat up on the sofa.

Ayn stood not far off from me with his jacket slightly open, a cold drink fresh out of the refrigerator in his hand.

MC: Has it been long have you been there?

Ayn: Quite a while.

He shook the cold drink within his grasp.

Ayn: Long enough to finish half of my drink.

MC: Then why didn’t you wake me up…?

Ayn: I did. You wouldn’t wake up.

MC: Really?

I looked at him suspiciously, but his expression was one of utter calm, which in turn, made me doubt myself instead. Was I really lacking that much sleep that I’d fail to wake even when called?

Ayn: Nope.

MC: …...

The sides of his lips quirked up, perhaps from having seen how speechless I was.

He sat down on the sofa, keeping a safe distance away from me.

Ayn: I don’t want you to feel pressured.

Ayn: This is our secret base; you can rest here anytime you want.

Ayn looked at me, the winter sunlight filtering in through the window, shining onto his youthful face. He slightly squinted his eyes at the sunlight, but the curve his mouth was set in never fell.

Looks like Ayn’s in a rather good mood today.

I shifted over and tugged at his sleeve.

MC: Speaking of which, did you have something on before this?

Ayn: Nothing much. It just took a little more effort to make an escape.

MC: An escape?

He glanced at me before adding on.

Ayn: Don't overthink it; it wasn't any weird task or anything like that.

MC: Oh.

Ayn: It's only because I didn't want to be cooped up at home and spend the day with them, despite today not being anything special at all.

Ayn: They're all just… Way too boring.

Ayn: It's a good thing that I managed to escape out here.

I lifted my head up to face Ayn, only to see that he was also looking at me, a faint smile in his eyes. 

As we faced each other, some curious sort of tacit understanding wound around us, like that of an invisible hairspring. I rose, pulling Ayn along with me by the hand and sitting him down on his gaming chair. Following that, I unraveled the ribbon that held the packaging together, opening the paper box and pushing the cake before him.

MC: Ta-da!

MC: Happy birthday, Ayn!

Ayn glanced at the bunny cake and back to me again. His eyes, clear and bright, reflected the early winter's sunlight.

Ayn: Didn't I already tell you that you didn't need to prepare anything…?

MC: It just so happened that I had some spare ingredients back home...

Ayn: You made this yourself?

He raised his eyebrows and looked like he was about to deliver some harsh and sharp words in the next moment.

I remembered that his reviews of every sweets shop down in the commercial street had been uncannily accurate...

MC: I was too short on time so it might look a little ugly, but it's going to go into your stomach anyway so just bear with it...

Ayn: Cute; just like you.

MC: Huh?

Which part of it resembles me? I made this based-off his image...

MC: It obviously resembles you more.

I muttered under my breath upon regaining my sense of self.

He didn't seem to be listening to me, staring intently at the cake before ducking his head to bite on the bunny's ear.

MC: Wait!

Ayn lifted his head, the bunny ears in his mouth following as he went, his voice slightly confused.

Ayn: What, you want to eat it too?

MC: ...No. But you haven't made a wish yet...

Ayn: Oh.

I took the opportunity to grab a handful of cream from the cake box while he had his eyes closed, quickly shooting my hand out towards his face.

MC: Let me add a little blessing to that wish of yours~

Just as I was about to touch him, he appeared to have opened his eyes out of pure instinct, and quickly reacted by shifting his head to the right, almost completely avoiding my cream assault on him.

However, my fingertips still managed to make contact with his face at the very last moment. He could have avoided that if he wanted to, yet he didn't...

I forgot what I had originally intended to do after that for a moment, only hearing Ayn's soft voice by my ear.

Ayn: (Y/n), do you want to know what I wished for?

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

MC: You can't go voicing your wishes out, or it won't work come true anymore.

Ayn: Alright then.

Ayn looked a little disappointed.

MC: If you really want to tell me, then you've got to do it secretly.

I leaned towards him, making him stiffen before turning his head away.

Ayn: Then… Close your eyes first.

He looked pretty serious; a tad different from his normal self. The distance between us was short; so close that… I, myself, was starting to feel a little nervous.

Ayn: Scared?

MC: Am not.

Ayn: Close your eyes then.

MC: …...

I looked at him, blinked, and eventually closed my eyes.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

In the darkness, I could feel some warmth near my cheek, as if someone was so close at hand that I could feel their breath,

I heard a soft voice, so soft, that I had an inkling that he was deliberately making it so that I wouldn’t hear him clearly.

Ayn: Actually, I have a wish that's related to you.

Following that, I could feel fingertips touching my cheeks. It was only a mere brush, fleetingly quick, as was its curt retreat.

At the same time, the sound of breathing that accompanied it moved further away as well.

Ayn: You can open your eyes now.

I opened my eyes and looked at Ayn. The expression he had on his face was a little unnatural, a hint of a curious blush flashing across his features.

Ayn: Oh, right. Help me clean off the cream.

MC: You look hella cute now...

Ayn: You're not allowed to call me cute.

MC: Right, didn't you just say that you have a wish related to me? ...What is it?

Ayn: It's a secret.

Alright then, another secret it is.

Saying so, he handed an unopened dessert spoon to me; who knew where he had found two of them from.

In the hut shrouded by the winter’s sun, came the fine sound of music flowing from the record player.  A sweet scent enveloped us, as we both shared the same cake. This place is his secret base, one of his many hideouts. However, he’d always single me out from the rest of the crowd, inviting me into this little world of his. 

I recalled that he’d dubbed all those other people “boring”, which made me a little tempted to ask him: “What about me?”

MC: Then, what about me?

I might have been shone into a daze by the afternoon sun when I suddenly asked him out of nowhere.

Ayn gave me a look, and I thought that he must be thinking that I was spouting nothing but nonsense. What he did, however, was something I never expected. He took his phone out and shook it in front of me.

Displayed on it, was the image of us sharing the cake earlier. I didn’t know when he had set it as his phone’s screensaver.

Ayn: You’re (Y/n); the one and only limited edition of (Y/n) in this entire world.

[passionate-reply]

This week on Great Albums: Ministry’s 1983 debut, With Sympathy! It’s not a metal album, and it’s not even an industrial album--it’s just some damn good synth-pop, despite who made it! Whether you’re curious where Uncle Al got his start and why he hates his first LP, or you just want some excellent New Romantic music, you should check this one out. Full transcript of the video under the break, as always.

Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums! Today, I’ll be tackling the debut album of one of the best-loved industrial bands--though it actually isn’t all that “industrial.” This is With Sympathy by Ministry, first released in 1983. Ministry are one of those acts that have gone through many stylistic evolutions throughout their career, and if you’re familiar with some of their more acclaimed works, it may surprise you to learn where they started out. While With Sympathy was the first full LP released under the Ministry name, it’s not the very first thing in their discography--that honour goes to the 12” single “I’m Falling,” released in 1981.

Music: “I’m Falling”

With a springy post-punk bass line and a tinny mechanical rhythm, “I’m Falling” is a rough-edged piece of cold wave. It was released on the famous Wax Trax! Records, well-known as the home of many of the most illustrious industrial acts of the 80s and 90s, from Coil and Laibach to Meat Beat Manifesto. But for their follow-up LP, Ministry would work with a major label, Arista, and twist that bass-heavy sound into something with less hiss and more groove.

Music: “Effigy”

On the opening track, “Effigy,” a bright synth line artfully fences an electric guitar riff for dominance, showing the extent to which the sonic blueprint of British New Wave acts like A Flock of Seagulls prefigured With Sympathy. This is an album that could only have been conceived in 1983, in the full flush of synth-pop’s mainstream popularity, and it does feel like a cash-in on the success that imported European synth-pop achieved in the first few years of the 1980s--even in Ministry’s native America.

While I’ve covered some albums with somewhat controversial legacies before, With Sympathy probably sets the record for the work that’s most despised by its own creator: Ministry frontman Al Jourgensen has disowned this album even harder than Ralf Huetter did the Kraftwerk albums before Autobahn, even going so far as to claim its affable, fairly commercial sound was entirely the product of Arista’s executive meddling. As with all legends of how great art was made, I don’t particularly believe or disbelieve this legend, or think it’s possible to know if it’s “true”--I simply present it to you as a piece of context, a myth that informs the history of this work. It’s worth noting that the acerbic, aggressive track “Here We Go” is often held up as a form of evidence for this story.

Music: “Here We Go”

The lyrics of “Here We Go” seem to imply that the song is, itself, intended as some sort of offering to the pop charts, but the confrontational style of the vocals is hard to overlook. I suppose it’s somewhat catchy, but not exactly in the same way that a real hit song is--there’s a certain fetching incompetence behind it, that makes its energy that much more compelling. “Here We Go” was released as a single, but only as the fourth selection from the album to receive that honour. A similar quality of dissonance between words and music can be found on the closing track, “She’s Got a Cause.”

Music: “She’s Got a Cause”

Like so many pop-leaning albums by artists who belong more on the underground side of things, With Sympathy has this constant tension bubbling within, and that crass, subversive industrial mindset is straining within the soft prettiness of its synth textures. The darkly playful “She’s Got a Cause” presents us with a narrator who seems to enjoy an idealized abuse at the hands of their lover, in a manner that’s reminiscent of the common industrial preoccupation with sado-masochism. And yet, it sounds downright bubbly--surprisingly so for a closing track, too. The album’s third single, “Work For Love,” is another that plays with this dysfunctional relationship theme.

Music: “Work For Love”

With tight handclap percussion, a call-and-response hook, and even a rhythm break, “Work For Love” certainly delivers on a “work chant” feel. Like “She’s Got a Cause,” it’s a very fun track, on the surface, but the more you think about its gleeful commodification of love and intimacy, the more sour it seems. Given the expected hard R in “work,” this seems like as good a time as any to note frontman Al Jourgensen’s apparent decision to ape something of a working-class English accent, by far one of the most derided features of With Sympathy. Personally, though I’ve never found this all that offensive--there are many styles of music in which vocalists adopt something of a trade cant, and the conventional twang of country singers is as much of a stylistic convention of the music as country guitar. I tend to see a person’s art as a deliberately crafted creation, where the self might be re-imagined in creative ways, and I think the unrelenting demand for complete “authenticity” from artists is little more than rockist hogwash. But that’s just me.

The cover of With Sympathy is one that really puts the capital-R “Romantic” in “New Romantic.” An artfully splayed hand, with very vampish black nails, gestures ambiguously towards wilting, crumbling red roses, an iconic symbol of the impermanence of youth, love, and idealism. The out-of-focus backdrop for the image might be interpreted as veined marble, adding a classicizing touch, or perhaps a stormy sky filled with lightning, adding to the sense of melodrama. The title “With Sympathy” calls attention to the album’s gothic morbidity in a gleefully tongue-in-cheek fashion, and I wish it weren’t so easy to miss on the cover, placed as red-on-red text in the middle of the roses.

As I hinted at earlier, Ministry have never made anything else that sounds similar to With Sympathy. Their second LP, 1986’s Twitch, is a marked sonic departure, featuring harsh, mechanistic industrial assaults. An extremely different album, for sure, but one that I also like quite a lot, in its own way! By the 1990s, Ministry would adopt an increasingly guitar-driven sound, eventually blossoming from industrial into full-blown heavy metal--a transformation that makes With Sympathy look even more bizarre in the context of their catalogue.

Music: “Over the Shoulder”

While I’ve provided a lot of contextual information about With Sympathy, I do want to mention that when I first discovered this album as a teenager, I didn’t know much about industrial music at all, let alone Ministry. And I loved the album! At the end of the day, I think With Sympathy is a very enjoyable New Romantic album, in a vacuum, and I’d recommend it to anyone who’s interested in early 80s synth-pop. Don’t let those later metal albums scare you away from some damn good pop.

My favourite track on With Sympathy is “I Wanted To Tell Her,” the album’s second single. It gets off to a great start, playfully introducing us to an impressively groovy bass guitar, and features a duet between Jourgensen and one Shay Jones, who’s also credited as a co-writer on the song--the only writing credit on the album besides Jourgensen. While Jones would later release some house singles under her own name, she seems to have been a session musician at this point in her career, but does an astounding job for a hired gun. The instrumental of “I Wanted To Tell Her” is almost identical to a bonus track from the “I’m Falling” single called “Primental,” albeit with a bit more studio polish--but that extra bit of professionalism, and its superbly bitter and bitchy duet, push it over the top for me. That’s all for today--thanks for listening!

Music: “I Wanted To Tell Her”

[kangaracha]

tell me about your ocs tho

you asked for this

so it’s been like, a while, since i really looked at my ocs outside of zombies, and also my work with the most proper ocs for zombies isn’t published yet, so i’m just going to do the three from other fandoms that i have big fics for and if you wanna hear about my little zombies ocs you can ask about em. okay. okay.

this is also really hard cause these characters go through so much change over the course of these fics, and i’m trying not to give away spoilers xD i will try. my best.

the OG. the one and only. the working-through-your-teenage-frustrations character. i love her.

IMOGEN HAYLOCK

mcu -  read sparrow

so the thing with imogen is that i wanted to do something different to the other oc fics I’d seen so far in this fandom. which is not to say those fics were bad or anything, i love them, i just want to be different. I was interested in writing a character that was like....not the perfect fit for the avengers, or the girl that got along with everyone, and then i saw TWS and related media (lookin at you, agents of shield), and i was like, ‘okay but if you were just hydra by name and working by shield values and principles all that time, and then suddenly you had to get up and kill your coworkers....’ and imogen Began.

i find her interesting for her wit and dry humour, her sarcasm and her big attitude - but also, her frustration with life, the deep-cut anger that she’s carrying with her like a rock, her struggle with self-worth and the way she presents herself to the world, and her complete average-ness in a place where everyone is exceptional. she’s nothing special - she’s just skating by, actually, she’s a high school dropout and on probation as a shield agent, and she’s really only off the streets because hydra value her as an object that might hold some valuable information related to a twenty year old cold case that doesn’t even have any relevance anymore in the grand scheme of things.

in sparrow, she finds something to relate to in clint barton - avenger, but also human disaster zone, making things up on the fly, most overlooked superhero of the century, completely regular guy with one unusual skill. she has to learn to be open to change and to want to be a good person, instead of an angry, ignorant person who will blindy follow whatever order she’s given and pick fights with anyone that disagrees with her. she also realises a lot of things that she should have realised sooner - that what’s left of her family is toxic as hell, that she’s been blindy following the forces of evil for years, that she doesn’t have to be an angry child from a broken home anymore, and that there’s a whole, scary world out there waiting for her and she can go and find anything she wants.

the rest of the trilogy, flicker and swift, follow her finding her way in the world, figuring out who she’s going to be and what she’s going to do, which is very relatable to me rn. it’s like therapy. flicker is also a great opportunity for me to have a crack at writing a romance as a side plot, and getting to let this character grow and realise her own self-worth and that yes, she can actually love and be loved in lots of different ways, is so satisfying. swift is just the icing on the cake, swift is her coming into her power, in her own way, it’s her looking back and realising that she’s changed her life and that she could do it after all, it’s a satisfying ending, i promise. i’m going to share it with you one day.

the slaughter of the lambs is kind of the sequel to the very first ac game that i always wanted and never got - except it’s not about altair because. i’m ~special~. the fic is set 20 years after the game, in the Levant, and is split into 4 parts spanning most of marwa’s lifetime, starting in 1211 AD and ending in 1257 AD and following her through the golden era of the assassin’s and the brotherhood’s downfall. it’s canon complaint, but runs like....canon adjacent. it’s its own story.

MARWA ABADI

assassin’s creed - read the slaughter of the lambs

marwa begins this story as a novice training in masyaf, the only female assassin in all of the levant. she’s raw and half-trained, never seen combat, her strength and ability put into doubt every day - but she’s talented too, and she works twice as hard as the boys, determined to prove everyone wrong. she’s tough and scrappy because she has to be to survive in the world she’s put herself in, and just a little too self-confident, which leads her to a downfall but also an important learning curve about wit and wisdom and loyalty, and the importance of striking a balance between free will and service to a cause. 

the rest of the story follows these themes on through the times of most upheaval in her life, as she struggles with following the creed and the beliefs of the assassin order and playing her role as a soldier for this cause, and with doubt and acting in accordance with her own personal morals and beliefs, which as time goes on and the assassin’s change, she finds do not always align. she has a strong sense of right and wrong and a strong character to back this up, and she strives throughout her life to become wise like her mentors were and to guide the world as best she can towards the right kind of future, as an assassin is supposed to. 

i wrote this character to explore the idea of being a servant to a higher order, to being faceless and lost to time and serving your cause knowing that, and how you find peace with giving your life over to that. especially coming from this day and age, when everything is recorded and everyone wants to be remembered for something, i found this interesting to explore. as marwa developed as a character, the other things came; her struggle with blind loyalty and festering doubt and the careful balance that she needs to strike between them, the folly of youth and the wisdom that she gains as she grows older, and the struggle of being a woman living in a male-dominated period of history and dedicating herself to a craft usually reserved for men. 

the first thing you need to understand about this fic, and this character, is that this is the therapy fic. this is me working through my own issues, but like also add +10 drama so that it’s interesting. and a romance plot, because i need the practise.

ANGIE SOMMARS

pokemon - read to go beyond your borders

angie’s story is mostly a sword/shield fic, though i borrowed some characters and stuff from diamond/pearl. the timelines are not canon. it’s set the year after the events of sw/sh, in galar. it follows angie through the gym challenge and her own personal conflicts, of which she has a laundry list. the fic finds her freshly arrived in galar from her home region in sinnoh, having run away from her responsibilities and the pressure of them at home looking for some kind of answer to her problems, or reassurance that she’s still good at what she does.

angie’s main conflict centres around her being the champion of the sinnoh league, a talented and experienced pokemon trainer sitting painfully exposed in the public eye. she struggles hugely with the reality of this position, and all the expectations that are put up to the person that holds it - she’s expected to be the strongest trainer in the region, to keep up a positive public image as the figurehead of the pokemon league, to be on the job most days of the year and ready for whatever it might throw at her. there’s always someone pushing her to be better, to present herself the way they think she should - and she’s used to being pushed and to being shaped, but there’s only so far you can bend a person before they will break.

angie is burnt out. she’s been in the public eye since she was five years old and competing in pokemon contests, and she’s far from the perfect princess of the league. her mistakes follow her around like a black cloud, creating controversy every time she reaches a new goal and drawing more and more bad press every time she messes something up. she doesn’t know what her own goals are anymore, and she doesn’t know where to go from the platform she’s found herself stranded on - she’s clinging to a position she’s too afraid to admit she doesn’t want anymore, and she’s scared to fall, or to break, or to look out to different horizons.

angie’s story explores the double-edged sword of fame and fortune, the satisfaction of being the best but also the scrutiny people place you under, the impact of ‘cancel culture’ on an individual, depression and anxiety and the endless circles of guilt in a toxic family environment...but also the hope of finding new horizons and finding the courage to take those first steps into the future that you want. it’s a coming of age kind of story, it’s young people finding their feet and new friends and new dreams and supporting each other through hard times. and it all ends well, which, to me, is the most important thing.

[polaristranslations]

The Ninth Box

   ■   ■

To begin with the conclusion, the game between I, Kurokami Medaka, and my predecessor, Chinu Namaji, ended in her victory—and the fact that it ended in her victory also meant, naturally, that it ended in my defeat.

There have been many times where the likes of Zenkichi would hype me up as some kind of undefeated person that would never lose, that would never suffer a defeat, but, well, this could act as evidence that that wasn't exactly the case—there were times when even I would lose.

I would win when I needed to win—but even though I say that, the question is where to differentiate, where to judge, in which situations I would need to win and in which situations I wouldn't need to win.

Who decided when I needed to win and when I didn't need to win?

In situations when I didn't need to win, did that mean I needed to lose?

Did a situation when I needed to lose even exist in this world?—if it did, when would that be? "Sometimes loss is the best gain" or "to flee is to win" are sayings that are often said—but if you're gaining something from loss, then based on the idea of damage control, it's almost like a victory, and if to flee is to win, then you're winning by fleeing, which means that's just a normal victory.

In other words, a defeat to me is—well, even if I unfold my theories on victory and defeat here, it would simply be my own personal opinions. Torai Kudaki, I'm sure you have your own opinions on what victory and defeat means to you, and even if they were to differ from mine, it surely would not be the case that one of us was correct and the other was wrong.

Of course.

Even Kumagawa Misogi had theories on victory and defeat.

Perhaps, even then and even now, those theories were built on immovably conflicting components that were incompatible with my own—but even so, it's hard to say that I was the one in the right.

However, I couldn't possibly say that Kumagawa Misogi's way of thinking was in the right.

In any case, if I knew when I needed to win and when I needed to lose, then it would make things quite easy to understand—although in most cases, when someone is faced with a matter of victory or defeat, they will think of themselves as needing to win.

Naturally.

Even with my game against Chinu Namaji, I faced her with the intention of winning—that consciousness of mine wasn't as clear as if it had been written down, but when faced with victory or defeat, I must have thought that I needed to win.

As for how to approach victory or defeat.

That was the natural way of thinking.

Well, if I had to say it, then there was the idea of "making memories" from losing—it was a bit immature to completely disavow that way of thinking, but in this case, in the match between me and Chinu Namaji, that way of thinking wasn't something I could apply.

My objective to find out how she had served as Treasurer under President Kumagawa and how she had stepped down from her position in Hakobune Middle School's 66th Generation Student Council Executive Committee would eventually be fulfilled—and, to say so in advance, even though it would eventually be fulfilled, it was regrettably not because I had won the game against her.

In the long run, I could say that I was able to get that information because I lost the game with her here, but that would be neither theories of victory nor defeat, but just a theory of the results—like the saying of "to flee is to win", there was also the saying "to lose is to win", but I wasn't the kind of person who would consider a loss as a gain.

At least, I wasn't at that time.

I had thought that to live was to win—and that way of living.

That way of winning... I had never once thought about how it would make the losers feel.

   ■   ■

"Kurokami-chan. Shall we play a game? If I win—I'll tell you anything you want to hear."

To her declaration of war, I said,

"Understood,"

in response.

Well, I've messily laid out my reasoning, but you know as well as I do that I'm passionate when it comes to a match, when it comes to a battle—I said something to the effect of having an objective, but even if I didn't have a clear objective at the time, I probably would have accepted that invitation from her in exactly the same way.

It might be a bit odd for me to say this of myself (although there probably wasn't that much of a difference if you asked anyone else), but my hotheadedness at the time was a bit of a turn-off, even for me—I don't know if there was ever a time in my life when someone challenged me to a match and I refused.

With that in mind, you could say that Chinu-senpai accurately came for what was something like my weak point—it wasn't exactly clear if that was her intended strategy, but in hindsight, you could certainly say that she "performed well".

She was splendid during the match itself as well as the way in which she led us to the match—um, in basketball terms, would that be called a "playmaker"?

Then, if anyone were to refer to Chinu Namaji as a "playmaker", it would not be unusual—and meanwhile, not knowing the future that awaited me, my excitement soared at the idea of having a match, and I spoke almost happily.

"So, how is this going to go?"

I asked.

"Naturally, it's going to be a game of basketball, right?"

"Right—well, something like that."

Chinu-senpai nodded.

To my expectant look, her response seemed to come a little late—it made sense that she was a bit perplexed at my sudden excitement. Or perhaps there was some other reason.

However, at the time, I hadn't noticed—I didn't even try to notice. In the first place, despite having come to ask why Chinu-senpai resigned from the Student Council Executive Committee, I didn't even try to guess at what she could be feeling.

Well, it was something worth reflecting upon.

Not that doing something so admirable as reflecting upon it now would reach Chinu-senpai—though I'm sure it didn't bother her one bit.

She was that kind of person, after all.

Right.

She was the type of person that I hadn't encountered much, leading up to this point—even though she was my predecessor, there was nothing similar between the two of us.

If I had no choice but to compare it to someone in Hakoniwa Academy, then I would say that she resembled Nabeshima-senpai, or at least they had something in common—although, that's really only if I had no choice but to compare them, and now that I lined them up, they actually felt completely different.

Genius, talent, and the like—their antagonism, or perhaps hostility, towards people referred to using those words were strong. That’s about the only point in common I can find.

But Nabeshima-senpai's sunny, cheerful disposition was something that Chinu-senpai was completely cut off from—but anyway, let's go back to the match. The match between me and Chinu-senpai—the one that would lead to my loss.

A historical loss?

Don't be silly, it was just a normal loss.

No need to exaggerate.

It's something that could occur to anyone.

Life is all about winning and losing—there's no way you can keep winning, or keep losing. This is something that I say not just in my middle school days but even now, and it's not just something I say but something that Kumagawa Misogi says. Or so I would like to believe.

"So, how do you want to do this? In times like these, we'd usually go with best-of-three one-on-one games... Or should we go with a competition to see who can make the most baskets? How many can we make out of ten shots... Or, or, we could also compete by seeing who can make a basket from the farthest distance... Ah, this would be a bit irregular, but we could get a referee to come judge a game of freestyle basketball. What do you think?"

I rattled on and on.

Perhaps I'd even turned into a bit of a motormouth.

I was like some racehorse with a carrot dangled before its eyes—my enthusiasm was off the charts.

Well, now that I can calmly and objectively look back on myself like this, it was kind of amazing how impatient I was... To the point that I wanted to overlook it as youthful indiscretion.

However, Chinu Namaji was not a girl who would overlook such a chance—

"So it's okay for me to decide?"

"Yes. Of course."

Thinking about it now, it was strange that I would respond "of course" there.

Because it was Chinu-senpai who, in a somewhat overblown manner, challenged her junior to a match, then it made more sense that the one who received that challenge (that is, me) would decide how the match would go.

However, before I could realize it, everything had gone according to Chinu-senpai's plans—naturally, the fact that I thought of basketball was the result of Chinu-senpai having passed me the ball as she made her challenge.

This is what people would call being trapped, and I am not at all afraid to consider this event in such a way now, but at the time, I did not think of it like that at all.

If anything, I was more overcome with admiration at such a gallant, fair-and-square method of settling things by having a match—I suppose this was what Zenkichi would call my true self, a "condescending belief in the goodness of humans".

To be honest, I didn't really like it—it wasn't exactly a pleasant way of putting things—but with this, he may have grasped the essence of the matter.

"So, what will it be? A one-on-one? A shooting competition? Shooting from a distance? Freestyle basketball?"

Well.

Of course I would think of things like these when it came to a competition that involved basketball—so that was most likely why I could leave the matter to Chinu-senpai without any caution whatsoever. I thought there was no room for choice—having seen her level of skill at shooting earlier, I figured it wouldn't turn into a simple shooting competition, so I'd been predicting that it would turn into a one-on-one that could make use of strategy.

But, as if my predictions were meaningless.

Chinu Namaji—chose none of the options that I had suggested. It was as if she'd thrown away the right to choose that I had given her—and so she spoke.

"Hey. You mentioned a simple one-on-one, but..."

Chinu-senpai held up one finger from each of her left and right hands. She held them up with the vigor of spinning a basketball atop each of those index fingers, but since the ball was already at my feet, her intention was surely to indicate the one and the one of "one-on-one".

"However, basketball was originally not a sport to be played with just one versus one."

"...? Well, that's true. Basketball was—"

"Five versus five."

Chinu-senpai opened up both of her hands.

And so, one versus one—became five versus five.

"That's the kind of sport it is, right? Basketball isn't an individual sport, but a team sport—right?"

"Er... Well, yes, but..."

"Right, basketball is a sport with teams of five people each—certainly not a sport you play by yourself. You can't make a team with just one person—"

Chinu-senpai spoke as if it was a new truth that she'd just discovered, but to that, I could only say,

"Right..."

Yes, I had nothing but that ambiguous response to say.

No matter how narrow people said my worldview was, I was still plenty aware that basketball was a sport played with five people on a team, and even if I hadn't known that fact, nevertheless, I would be strongly confused considering the fact that there were only the two of us here in this gymnasium.

Even if it was a sport played with five people.

Chinu-senpai—was alone.

"However, Kurokami-chan."

As if she sensed my confusion and then disregarded it entirely, or perhaps as if she never cared about something like my confusion from the beginning, Chinu-senpai continued unconcernedly.

"But I guess it's a bit strange, or maybe unnatural... Don't you think there's a fundamental problem there? Like it breaks the game balance, or there's a bug, or the game's programming is incomplete—"

"......?"

The direction of the conversation suddenly changed.

However, even so, when she posed that question, I couldn't help but think about it—incomplete?

"Are you asking if there's a flaw in the rules of basketball?"

"No, no, there's no way I could complain about the rules thought up by a genius, that haven't undergone much transformation even after such a long period of time—there's no way I would be so insolent. I'm not talking about just basketball, but about all team sports. It doesn't have to be just basketball—it could be soccer, or lacrosse, or rugby, or even American football."

"Team sports..."

"As this goes on, it almost sounds like it has nothing to do with sports at all, but for the sake of making it easy to understand, I'll keep talking about it through the lens of sports. You know how they have stuff like all-stars, or a dream team, right?"

Well, even if she asked me that.

All I could do was keep quiet and wait for Chinu-senpai to continue.

"A dream team made up of MVP-class players—a line-up of stars, or an all-star team. They get chosen based on fan voting or expert discussion, but... What do you think of that?"

"Er, well... I can't really see a problem in the act of dreaming about putting together a team of outstanding players, in the sense that they're pursuing an ideal... Isn't it essentially the same as a coach choosing the regulars to achieve the best possible team?"

The reason why my answer was a bit hard to put together was because I had no idea what answer Chinu-senpai was looking for—however, regardless of whether I could or couldn't predict what she wanted, I had no choice but to respond in that way. When it came to team sports, there was no such thing as a commander who didn't care about assembling the best team members.

"I suppose. Team sports are all about putting together and then competing with the best possible team—but the thing I feel is incomplete about team sports comes from there,"

said Chinu-senpai.

Her open hands were still there, as she'd left them.

"If team sports are all about comparing the ability of two teams, and the one with better composition is the one that wins—then an all-star team should be the strongest team, right? For example, in basketball, say there's a team that wins nationals. But would a team made up of five aces really be stronger than that team?"

"...Teamwork is also important when it comes to team sports, so I can imagine that simply gathering five aces won't do the trick. No matter how exceptional they are, just because you gather them—"

"That's less ideal and more idealistic. The skill of 'teamwork' should also be a component of that exceptionality—basically, what I'm trying to say is, Kurokami-chan. Even though it should be theoretically possible to envision the so-called 'ideal' team, instead of creating such a team, everyone instead puts up with putting together 'second-best' teams, compromising among people who happen to be in the same school, or within the limits of how much they can pay, or coming from the same regions. Even though the best can be realized, it's not actually realized in reality—if you can't call this incomplete, then what is it?"

"...Uh-huh."

I understood.

It was a bit of an irrational argument, and it wasn't really something I wanted to agree with. But now that she'd said it, it certainly did feel like a thought worth considering—in short, she was probably trying to say that, when it came to sports based on the premise of forming teams, there was a structural flaw in logically creating an ideal team, or rather, envisioning an ideal team even if it was effectively impossible to create one.

Even the "strongest team" on record, the one that wins the championship or survives to the end, has "room to get even stronger" by replacing its members. And when I think about how they'd suffer a defeat to a potential all-star team, it makes me doubt whether or not the sport itself would become nihilistic—of course, there were no absolutes in games, and there were no absolutes in strength, so we probably shouldn't be considering it so one-dimensionally.

"If it was an individual sport, then there wouldn't be this incompleteness—even if you think to yourself, 'If only I had legs like that guy', you can't actually replace your legs. But in a team game, you can think, 'If only that player was on my team', and, putting aside whether or not that's emotionally possible, it certainly is physically possible."

"When you say 'putting aside whether or not that's emotionally possible', the answer is already there... No, not only in terms of emotions, but also in terms of the fact that it is not possible to realize everything that is physically and logically possible—that's how society works."

"My, my. It's hard to believe that such an opinion came from the legendary freshman, Kurokami Medaka. It almost sounds like an endorsement of a society that does not pursue ideals."

The legendary freshman?

I didn't recall becoming a legend, though.

Not to mention, it was obvious that she was making fun of me, so I didn't really feel like fighting against it.

"Well, even so, that's about it, isn't it?—we humans can only do the best we can, so we have to do what we're allowed to do in the environment we're in. That's about it. A world where every 'if only' were to be realized would be pretty unpleasant in itself—but anyway."

Chinu-senpai said.

"Let's go with this for our little competition."

"?"

As I tilted my head, she continued speaking with her hands still splayed.

Indicating the team formation of basketball, five versus five.

With her right hand and left hand indicating that, she spoke.

"Creating teams in pursuit of the ideal one—I'll call it, the Formation Game."

   ■   ■

The Formation Game—of course.

As I said earlier, the game would end in my defeat.

However, in terms of team formation and team building, you could say there was a connection to the assigning of roles in the Student Council Executive Committee. In that sense, perhaps that was the idea at the root of Chinu-senpai's suggestion.

Kumagawa Misogi.

For what reason did he choose Chinu Namaji, and then Kurokami Medaka, to take up the position of Treasurer of the Student Council Executive Committee that he headed?—through this game, I would come to understand that very reason.

Regardless of the winner and loser.

But that would only be in the long run.

In the short run—I simply lost to her.

Yes, just like how she lost to Kumagawa Misogi.

I lost to Chinu Namaji.

[a-mellowtea]

Sarah’s Soundtrack Corner | RWBY Volume 8

Today: Episode 1 // Divide 22/11/2020: Episode 2 // Refuge

Hello everyone!

This year, I’ve decided to do something new. Rather than waiting for the Volume to end or the soundtrack to drop to talk about RWBY’s music, I’m starting this little side project: cataloguing and somewhat analyzing the show’s score and songs as they’re released.

This is also a way for me to keep myself engaged in something other than academics (’cause quarantine be gettin’ to me), as well as pointing out some details folks might overlook: there’s always a lot to talk about with the music, and it plays a pivotal role in the series.

A mini-disclaimer beforehand: I am in no way well-versed in music theory. I can’t really tell you how things are composed so much as how they more generally sound, and what the intentions behind certain choices might have been.

So, without further ado, let’s begin!

The first cue of the Volume, coming in gently against the slow fade-in from black of a young Cinder scrubbing the floor, is on piano and sparse strings. I’m hesitant to label this as anything in particular with any degree of confidence, but the progression of notes makes me believe it could be an abstract variation on Cinder’s core “theme” - specifically, the haunting choir we tend to hear around her. It would make sense: bridging the visuals with something just familiar enough to catch the ear, but also distinct.

There’s a brief pause as Cinder and Neo approach the storm, with only a small bit of ambient, tense strings; then it’s into a development of the new melody we got accompanying Salem’s arrival in Volume 7 under the usual first-episode credits. This section has a wonderful female choral element added: I’m actually half-convinced that it’s a specific “theme” for Monstra (the whale Grimm; apparently that’s her official name), rather than Salem herself. The bass percussion makes the cue feel almost literally alive, giving it a slow, steady heartbeat.

The piece crescendos as Neo catches sight of Salem, then fades away into more tense strings when Cinder kneels. A small quote of what I believe is “One Thing” kicks in when Cinder takes Neo’s credit for stealing the Relic of Knowledge.

The next quote is equally small, coming and going in the span of about 5 seconds between the 03:25 and 03:30 timestamps, and references the strings from “Party Crashers”/the Volume 7 Mantle massacre. 

I can’t quite peg the following string melody - under Cinder’s declaration that she’ll return to Atlas and take the Maiden’s power from Penny - as anything specific, though it sounds similar to the opening piano.

What I’ll tentatively label as Monstra’s “theme” takes over again as Salem communicates with her, and the cue ends on a tense crescendo along with the scene.

On our heroes’ end, this is quite the episode for abstract little melodies, because I can’t seem to nail down what plays under Oscar’s respite in the slums either. What I do recognize, however, is a small section of Mantle’s melody at around 05:42, continuing until 05:52 where it’s briefly interrupted by a vague handful of notes from the Grimm “theme”.

Everything in Mantle is quite bleak, including the instrumentation: it’s soft and somber, even the gentler moments. Oscar’s melody kicks in at 07:06 on slow strings after Weiss asks how he ended up in the crater, which transitions into a despairing little quote of Penny’s established “theme” from Volume 7. This “theme” is of particular note this time around - Alex Abraham (composer) switched up the sound of her melody to a more subdued, lost quality, and it’s quite something whenever it pops up.

“Bad Luck Charm” makes a brief appearance at 07:30, and it’s interesting to me just how darkly the quote drifts off - the final note sounds almost distorted, lending it not only an air of uncertainty, but also danger (totally not hinting at things to come - no way).

Mantle’s theme makes a reappearance at 09:03, following a lead-in on strings as Yang argues that they need to help the people. The “theme” for Amity follows at 9:18 when Pietro begins talking about the titular colisseum, then drifts into Ironwood’s once he’s brought up, and then into one of the “Atlas tension” motifs from Volume 7. The orchestration of this entire section is notably quiet; almost not there, and all with a sense of unease. As the idea for the plan begins to come together, the Atlas Military “theme” (introduced at the end of Volume 6) plays, but fades out largely unresolved with Pietro’s uncertainty about it.

Once the small argument begins in earnest and the group divides, what sounds like a gentle quote of the as-yet untitled opening plays, easing into simple strings once Jaune interjects.

A sneeze-and-you’ll-miss-it soft interruption of Penny’s melody plays again, almost lost in the strings, then a third time when she volunteers to go with Ruby’s group.

And now for the fun part.

I’m not horrendously biased, I swear.

The tense silence of this scene once Penny’s Scroll begins to ring is perfect; as are the dark, sparse, ambient strings and the fourth instance of Penny’s “theme” - played on piano, with an almost music-box-like quality. The juxtaposition is horribly fitting for the moment - James is playing on Penny’s role as a guardian, her desire to protect people, her uncertainty about a situation in which she has had very little control, and that’s all beautifully reinforced in the music.

Speaking of juxtaposition.

Upstairs, we get a gorgeous rendition of “Hero” on brass; played slow, full and in earnest, with a small bit of Winter’s melody thrown in the middle once the camera briefly shifts focus to her. The way this section is orchestrated piques my interest as well - it’s not dark, it’s not particularly somber. It’s gentle. It still has that, for lack of a better term, heroic quality to it.

And that becomes such a twisted thing by the end of the scene.

Before that, however, there’s an instance of the Grimm “theme” clearly at 14:56, and it continues to be a personal favorite. 

Another intriguing little reference hits at about 15:12, when the Council members show up - if you have an ear for it, you might pick up on it as coming from the scene in the office from Volume 7 Chapter 11 “Gravity”, complete with Ironwood’s “theme” at 15:33 (this cue might actually be directly taken from “Are You With Me?”) and to say it’s appropriate for a moment where James slips even further would be putting it mildly.

Closing out the episode proper is a freaky new melody for the Grimm hound that I can honestly say I cannot wait to hear more of.

Overall, the score for the premiere isn’t quite as bombastic as the last two years, but that’s fitting - it’s largely understated, with lots of tension and somber takes on the leitmotifs that crop up. This is actually one of the things about the episode that left me feeling like it was more of a firm and simple continuation from last year than the start of a brand new chapter, and that’s certainly not bad.

And now you stand alone, opening!

I don’t think it needs saying that every RWBY OP will split the fandom to some degree, and this one has a very different style. It doesn’t have a name yet - I personally labelled it as “The End” on YouTube, unfortunately confusing a few people - which is odd, but Jeff professed that he just couldn’t settle on one yet.

The standard guitar and heavy percussion are present, kicking off in the usual instrument-focused intro, and are mixed with layers of different instruments, synth and backing vocals throughout the song once Casey’s vocals start. Speaking of, our leading lady delivers with her usual grace, and her matured voice lends a lot to the tone of the song (the growl on “Some roses will never bloom” is amazing). Almost every line on the verse and pre-chorus has an echo behind it - either as an effect or as part of the backing - giving it a forlorn yet powerful quality.

In the lyrics department, it reminds me quite a bit of the second opening - “Time To Say Goodbye” - save with a darker undertone. I’d be hardpressed to believe that the line “We said goodbye / To all the things we loved” isn’t, in fact, a direct reference to “Now it’s time to say goodbye / To the things we loved and the innocence of youth”. In a Volume where a lot of people were clamboring for a “When It Falls 2.0″ - yours truly included - this was a surprise, but a welcome one.

Second opening is the best opening. That is a hill I will die on.

Come to think of it, this might become a trend. If I remember correctly, several lyrics in “Trust Love” harkened back to “This Will Be The Day”; what springs to mind immediately is the contrast of “When the day you waited for won’t come” with “This will be the day we waited for”, and “Always hoping that a lightning bolt / Is going to save you from this gravity” with “We are lightning / Straying from the thunder”.

If this is the case and Volume 8 goes as I believe it will - setting up for another Volume in Atlas where the huge fight happens as everyone struggles to hold the line until help arrives - then we could be due for some “When It Falls” references then.

I’ve heard some say that this opening sounds a little too crowded, that it doesn’t hit quite as hard as they expected/compared to “When It Falls”, that the darker tone relies on the lyrics rather than anything in the instrumentation, and those are valid critiques. Personally, this one’s an ear-worm - I love the sound of it; Jeff made a lot of interesting choices - but the melody itself isn’t as discernable as previous years and is going to take a while to grow on me.

I’m not going to rank these or anything because that feels a little arbitrary, but I really enjoyed what we got this first Chapter. Knowing the team, they find ways to step it up every year, so I’m seriously looking forward to what’s in store.

Until next week!

[cavalierious-whim]

Parlay (FE3H)

FE3h | Sylvix | High-Seas AU | Teen | Complete

This time Sylvain's more than doubled his money, he's doubled his life.

####

A/N: Another one from last year! CW for a vague depiction of stitching up a wound. It's very minor. Read here on AO3 for better quality!

####

“You don’t seem the type to dabble with our kind of lot.”

Sylvain turns to the voice, meeting the youthful face of the captain. He’s younger than expected, but severe-looking with a narrow and angular face and circles cut so deep underneath his eyes that Sylvain wonders exactly what it was that put them there.

“Yeah,” says Sylvain, a signature smirk spreading wide across his face, channeling his well-practiced façade, “Pi--”

“Smugglers,” says the captain, interrupting.

“Smugglers,” repeats Sylvain. He’s not sure why the man cares because everyone already knows what they actually are. Pirates. A dubious lot known for bloodshed and riots, and rum and indulgence. Looking around the ship though, it looks more like a tightly run and well-oiled machine, than a drunken schooner.

The captain watches him for a long moment, midnight hair ruffling in the soft sea breeze. He looks mean, but not mean enough to be in this line of work. Then again, Sylvain’s new to all of this, so it’s not like he knows what to expect.

He’s only heard the wild stories of Felix the Blood Red and his rag-tag group of misfits.

“You’re a little green,” says Felix.

“Oh, I’m used to the sea--”

“I didn’t mean ill.” Felix has his arms crossed over his chest as he watches Sylvain with a critical eye. “I meant new to smuggling.” Nothing seems to escape the man. Sylvain will have to tread lightly.

“Well, I used to run my goods legitimately,” says Sylvain, rubbing at his neck. “My father trusted me to overlook his operations.”

“Should he have?” asks Felix.

“Should he have what?” asks Sylvain.

“Trusted you,” says Felix, impatience creeping into his tone.

“Yes,” says Sylvain. Then he pauses. “At least, until he dealt with the kinds of goods that I don’t like.”

“Drugs?” asks Felix.

“Worse,” says Sylvain. He doesn’t need to elaborate for the both of them to glean his meaning. They both fall silent, Felix’s mouth twitching with slight annoyance and Sylvain feels a little bit guilty. “Oh don’t give me that look, I haven’t brought anything illegal aboard. You can check the crates.”

“Then why hire us?” asks Felix, nosier than Sylvain would like. But where he in his position, Sylvain might be just as nosey, if not more. Mostly because Felix is a cunning and interesting man at first glance. And he bets that the mystery only gets better the more he learns.

“I’m not taking them to where they are supposed to go,” Sylvain says simply. “My father wants things shipped south to the Empire.”

“We’re going north to Sreng,” Felix deadpans.

“Might I remind you that I am Sylvain Gautier.” The Gautier family, also known as the ginger scourge of the north, also known as super doesn’t trade with the Srengese. For reasons.

Felix looks at him differently now that he knows Sylvain’s funneling his father’s goods to the people that his family has all but destroyed over the centuries, lips tugged into a small little frown. And for a moment, Sylvain is worried that Felix will call off the job and dump his shipment into the sea. Sylvain would. He’s inviting more trouble than his coin is probably worth, and that’s not just him talking about his mission.

But then Felix drops his arms and sighs. “It’s none of my business,” says Felix.

“Felix--”

“That’s Captain to you,” Felix cuts in, leveling Sylvain with a solid glare. Then he turns away without another word. Sylvain watches him retreat with a rare smile, truly interested in the man.

Captain, it is.

#

It becomes Felix’s business months later after a high seas firefight with one of Sylvain’s father’s ships. It’s the third run that they’ve done together after the first proved to be successful.

“Shit,” Sylvain groans, arching up from the cot he’s spread out on. Mercedes hushes him but doesn’t let up, pressing the disinfectant against him with more force. “Merce, that burns--”

“Surely not as bad as my ship does,” says Felix from the doorway.

Sylvain’s mouth dries up at the sight of him because Felix is beautiful when he’s on edge and wired red-hot, face smudged with sweat and soot. He scowls at the sight of Sylvain, softens slightly at the sight of Mercedes, and then acerbically asks for the room to be cleared. His crew does as he asks, leaving the two of them alone.

“For the record,” starts Sylvain, “I thought it’d take longer for him to come after his shit.”

“After you, you mean,” says Felix.

“I meant what I said,” says Sylvain. A pregnant silence stretches between them before Felix lets out an annoyed grunt, crossing the room and dropping into the chair beside where Sylvain’s laying. He jerks Sylvain’s shirt up with none of the tenderness that Mercedes is known for and Sylvain hisses at the touch.

“You’ll live,” says Felix once he gets a good look.

“So I’ll make it?” says Sylvain in jest.

“Unfortunately,” says Felix with a little bite to his tone. But then his tone softens a little. “As long as it’s stitched up right and you don’t pull at it.”

“You told Merce to leave.”

“She taught me how to sew,” says Felix, pulling open her medical kit.

“The holes in your clothes!” Sylvain’s seen Felix mend clothes on slow afternoons, laying out below the noon sun and enjoying the ocean breeze. It’s a nice sight, one that he’s come to like, even if it has to be observed from afar. Felix is so rarely relaxed and never so much around him.

“The concept is the same,” says Felix. Then he sighs. “Look, I know how to stitch up a wound. I’ve done it plenty.”

The War, Sylvain assumes then, where Faerghus lost their King to the Empire and the nobility left sold their souls to the enemy for a small chance at survival. Gautier’s done relatively well in the aftermath and reconstruction because brownnosing is what his father is best at. Felix had seemed more like a soldier than a pirate, something Sylvain noticed after just a week on board.

Sylvain doesn’t ask for an explanation and Felix doesn’t give one. Instead, he threads a needle with thick, coarse thread. He disinfects the gash in Sylvain’s side once more for good measure and then jabs the needle through his skin with little ceremony.

“Warn a man!” Sylvain shouts, trying his best to not jerk.

Felix’s mouth twitches into a smirk. “First time getting stitches, then.”

“No,” says Sylvain, but then a small whine bubbles up through his lips. “Yes.”

Sylvain’s seen battle like anyone else in his station, but as the former heir to the Gautier fortune, it’d been a figurehead title more than anything. He’d spent most of his wartime in tents on the backlines, moving figures around, and wooing bedmates to just feel a little bit of something in his pathetic misery.

“My ship will be fine,” says Felix, tugging at the gash to properly close it. “There’s more damage to the sails, but nothing that can’t be fixed.”

Sylvain is quiet for a moment. “I really am sorry.”

Felix is quiet for a moment too, and then he says, “It’s the job. Sometimes it goes well, sometimes it doesn’t. We’ve pulled through worse.”

“My only goal is to get food and clothing to the people who need it,” says Sylvain.

“I know. It’s the only reason that I haven’t thrown you overboard yet.” Felix pulls the thread tight and knots it, before cutting the excess. “For the record, we sunk their ship.”

“Good riddance,” says Sylvain.

Felix watches him as he wipes his hands off on a rag. “You hate him. Your father, I mean.”

“Hate’s a strong word.” But when he meets Felix’s gaze, Sylvain’s eyes are a testy sea storm, and he’s practically frothing at the mouth in barely contained rage. “Okay, hate’s not a strong enough word.”

“I understand,” says Felix in a rare moment of personal expression. He runs his fingers over Sylvain’s ribs under the pretense of checking the wound one last time, but to Sylvain, it feels like an entirely different sort of touch. Especially because it lingers for just a little bit too long to be merely friendly.

“Captain,” starts Sylvain, reaching out to grasp at his hand. Felix doesn’t pull away, allowing the touch.

“Felix,” says Felix. “You can-- Look, Felix is fine.”

“It’s fine,” murmurs Sylvain, his free hand snaking up to brush Felix’s sweaty bangs back. “Are you sure that my highly moral do-gooding is the only reason you haven’t thrown me overboard?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” says Felix, but it lacks bite as he leans into the touch.

“I’m glad I won’t die,” says Sylvain, “and I’m glad we’ll do more runs together.” A pause. “We will continue our business, right?”

“Fool,” says Felix.

“Your fool?” asks Sylvain hopefully.

“You’re pushing your luck.”

“Is it working?”

They look at each other for a moment before Felix swoops down, pressing a kiss against Sylvain’s lips. It’s a sweet thing, far sweeter than Sylvain expects Felix to be. It’s all softness, lacking his carefully honed sharp edges, warm and kind, and genuine.

“So it worked,” says Sylvain against his lips, unable to stop himself from slipping into his teasing mask. Felix pulls away, a soft scowl on his lips. He lets go and stands. “I was joking,” says Sylvain. “Joking!”

“I can still make you walk the plank,” says Felix coolly.

“But you won’t,” says Sylvain.

There’s a beat and then Felix smiles actually smiles, and it’s weirdly radiant and Sylvain never wants to stop seeing it. “No, I won’t,” says Felix quietly. “But I can make you suffer in the meantime.” Then he turns to leave the small room.

“Come back,” says Sylvain as pathetically as he can. “I’m sorry!”

But then he hears the soft murmurs of the crew outside and then a short laugh that is distinctly Felix’s. Sylvain smiles. He’s injured, they’ve lost their sails and his father has put a number on his head. But Sylvain does good; he funnels his father’s goods to the people who actually need them.

And he’s got Felix. He doesn’t really know how or why, but he’s somehow managed, and he has no intention of ever letting go. Sylvain’s placed a lot of bets in his life, but rarely pan out the way that he wants them too. But this time? He’s more than doubled his money, he’s doubled his entire life.

So when Sylvain smiles it’s the first time in a long time that it actually means something.