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onlydylanobrien · 4 years ago

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Dylan O'Brien - NME Magazine Interview

Dylan O’Brien: “I was in this transitional phase – close to a quarter-life crisis”

From YA heartthrob to legitimate leading man – how the 'Maze Runner' star hit his stride after a whirlwind decade

Definitely!” hoots Dylan O’Brien when NME asks if he still has to audition. “I’m not Tom fucking Hanks, bro.” He’s clearly amused by our question, but forgive us for thinking the 29-year-old actor gets cast on reputation alone. A decade into his career, and he’s making an impressive transition from teen TV star and YA franchise hero to charismatic leading man.

New York-born O’Brien cut his teeth on MTV’s hit Teen Wolf series, before landing the lead in the Maze Runner film trilogy based on James Dashner’s hugely popular novels. Leading a band of bright young things that included ex-Skins tearaway Kaya Scodelario, Game Of Thrones’ Thomas Brodie-Sangster and Will Poulter, he honed his craft while racking up nearly a billion dollars at the box office. “My career is a constant acting class,” says O’Brien. “To be able to do the Maze Runner movies simultaneously with Teen Wolf was amazing in terms of getting in reps and working my [acting] muscle.”

Now for the sometimes tricky bit. Many actors struggle with the post-breakout period, but O’Brien is making it look easy so far. This year’s Netflix hit Love and Monsters proved he can carry an old-school family adventure, and new film Flashback (out next week) reveals an appetite for weirder, more cerebral work. He stars as Fred Fitzell, a young man reluctant to buckle down to life as a nine-to-fiver with a boring corporate job and a long-term girlfriend (Mindhunter‘s Hannah Gross). When he runs into a freaky-looking acquaintance from his teenage years, Fred becomes obsessed with finding an old high-school friend he used to drop a mind-bending experimental drug called Mercury with. It’s difficult to say any more without entering spoiler territory, but Flashback is a wild ride underpinned by the idea that we can exist in several realities at once. Even if you follow every plot twist, you might not fully understand the end. “Oh, it’s definitely a headfuck,” O’Brien agrees. “There’s not totally an answer to figure out. There’s a lot of different things that people can take from it.”

Speaking over Zoom from his LA home, O’Brien is bright, thoughtful and really good fun to talk to, especially when he relaxes into the interview, but he clearly knows where his line between public and private lies. When he first read the Flashback script, written by the film’s director Christopher MacBride, his “mind was blown” by just how much he related to Fred. “I felt like I was in this transitional phase of my life that was, you know, sort of close to a quarter-life crisis type thing,” he says. “For whatever reason, it was like me and this script were meant to be. I remember reading it and thinking: ‘I am this guy right now.'”

“There were a lot of things in my personal life that were neglected for a while”

When we ask why O’Brien felt as though he had reached a “transitional phase”, he gives an answer that’s vague but not exactly evasive. For understandable reasons, he doesn’t mention the incredibly traumatic motorcycle accident he sustained while shooting the final Maze Runner film in March 2016. O’Brien suffered severe trauma to the brain and said in 2017 that he underwent extensive facial reconstructive surgery after the accident “broke most of the right side of my face”. Tellingly, he’s never really revealed what happened on set or how it affected him.

Today, O’Brien dances around the details of the accident and other issues he was dealing with at the time, but doesn’t shy away from discussing his inner conflict. “You know, it was a lot of personal things combined with at-a-point-in-my-career things,” he says after a brief pause. He says he’d have been going through some of this stuff anyway, simply because of his age, but it sounds as though success intensified it all. “It was like this whole fucking storm of shit,” he continues. “I was simultaneously so fulfilled and happy about these, like, otherworldly and surreal things that I had experienced in terms of where my career had brought me. I had all this confidence and fulfilment and beautiful people [in my life] – such amazing things to experience at a young age. But at the same time, there were a lot of things in my personal life that were unchecked and sort of neglected for a while.”

O’Brien says that in time, he realised he had to “stop for a second” and “re-explore how I wanted my life to look going forward”. In fairness, you can see why he needed a breather: his career took off while he was still a teenager. After his family moved from New Jersey to Los Angeles County when he was 12, O’Brien contemplated a career as a sports broadcaster – his Twitter bio still bills him as a “no longer suffering Mets fan” – then began posting YouTube videos as moviekidd826. A funny, slickly edited skit titled ‘How to Prepare for the SAT in 45 seconds’, shared when he was just 17, shows he was a born performer and storyteller. YouTube success led to him getting a manager, but his breakthrough role in Teen Wolf still came out of the blue. At the time, he was treading water at a local community college and taking auditions on the side.

Still, he has since taken a rather fatalistic view of this career-making moment. “It’s totally weird because, when I think about it now, I don’t see how it could have happened any other way. I can’t picture myself doing anything else now,” he told Collider in 2011. “It was really sudden and a little random, and not provoked by anything. It was just out of nowhere. It wasn’t my intentional doing.” Today, O’Brien summarises his skyscraper career trajectory succinctly. “I guess I just graduated high school and started acting,” he says. “And then I felt like I was just flying by the seat of my pants and never got a chance to stop.” Thankfully, straight-out-the-blocks Hollywood success hasn’t taken away his sense of perspective. When I say how easy social media makes it to compare yourself unfavourably to others, O’Brien jumps in: “Yeah, that’s very true. I was watching the Billie Eilish doc the other day, and I was like, I’ve done nothing. I’m not an artist at all!”

“No one thought ‘Love and Monsters’ was going to be good!”

O’Brien is also self-deprecating when he talks about being cast in Flashback, suggesting it happened because he had such an intense connection with Fred. “I was honestly like, ‘Who is watching me right now?’ That is the best way I can describe how I was feeling when I came across this script,” he says. “Chris [MacBride, director] and I had this conversation that went so well in terms of [my] understanding this script that I think he’d sent around a lot and [that] very commonly wasn’t understood. I think Chris has even said that the night before shooting, he suddenly had this thought, like, ‘Wait, do I even think he’s a good actor?'”

Though O’Brien has firmly ring-fenced elements of his private life, he’s actually pretty frank about his acting vehicles. He readily admits he was expecting a snobbish response to Love and Monsters, a CGI-heavy hybrid of post-apocalyptic action and romcom that dropped on Netflix in April and topped the streamer’s daily most-watched list. “It means so much that Love and Monsters has gotten the response that it’s gotten,” O’Brien says. “No one thought this movie was going to be good.” His blunt honesty makes me laugh out loud. “No one did though!” he says in response. “And so, fuck that. You know, most of the people who say something to me about the movie, they’re like: ‘I watched Love and Monsters, and it was… good?’ And honestly, that just cracks me up.” For obvious reasons, we hastily decide not to share our response to the film – namely, that it was a whole lot better than expected.

In Love and Monsters, O’Brien plays Joel, a survivor of a so-called “monsterpocalypse” that has bumped humans to the bottom of the food chain. Though he’s known in his colony as a bit of a coward, Joel sets off on a treacherous 80-mile journey to find his high school sweetheart Aimee (Iron Fist‘s Jessica Henwick), which means evading the hungry clutches of various supersize grizzlies including a giant monster-frog hiding in a suburban pond. It’s a simple but pretty out-there premise that wouldn’t work if O’Brien’s performance was even slightly condescending. Instead, his unselfconscious sincerity really sells a film that has as much in common with the family-oriented Robin Williams movie Night at the Museum as darker fare like The Walking Dead.

His obvious affection for the project really comes across during our interview today. “When I read the script, I just thought it was so sweet and funny and smart and unique, but at the same time reminiscent of all these movies that don’t really get made any more,” he says. That’s a fair point: Love and Monsters is neither a fail-safe superhero movie nor a slice of classy Oscar bait. “And when they were talking about how to market this movie, it was so funny hearing all these conversations like, ‘How do we actually get people to watch it?'” he adds. “But that’s a big part of the reason I wanted to do this movie: because it felt like something I missed seeing.”

“I’m lucky to be surrounded by people who want to make something out of love”

So in a way, Love and Monsters was a risk for an actor seeking to establish himself outside of a bankable movie franchise and a hit TV show. O’Brien has only made four films since his final Maze Runner outing in 2018, and insists he hasn’t been tactical with his choices. “I don’t have anyone saying, ‘We need to get you in an Oscar vehicle’, or any of that kind of shit,” he says. “I’m really lucky to be surrounded by people who think like me: that you should do what you’re drawn to, and make something out of love.”

He’s recently finished shooting a mysterious crime thriller called The Outfit in London with Mark Rylance. Directed and co-written by Graham Moore, who won an Oscar for his screenplay to Alan Turing biopic The Imitation Game, O’Brien calls it “quite possibly one of the most special pieces of writing I’ve ever experienced”. He first read the script on a plane and says he “actually stood up and clapped” when he got to the end. Considering O’Brien probably wasn’t flying Ryanair, this reaction presumably attracted a few baffled glances.

Anyway, it must be pretty intimidating walking onto set with Rylance, a multi-award-winning actor revered by his peers – Al Pacino once said he “speaks Shakespeare as if it was written for him the night before” – but it sounds as though O’Brien took it all in stride. He says he’s confident in his abilities, but admits to having a slight wobble whenever he begins a new project. “I’m always sort of re-questioning everything – like, ‘Can I even act?'” he says. “But I think there’s something very natural about that. I think even Rylance could relate to that feeling. Acting is like starting a new year at school every single time.”

At this point in his career, O’Brien has made peace with the fact that some people will have preconceptions about him based on what he’s known for: Maze Runner and Teen Wolf. “People will put you in a box no matter what,” he says. “There was definitely a time when that would get to me, especially when it felt like somebody had a perspective on me that in my soul, I just felt wasn’t accurate.” Still, there’s no doubt he wants to show us what’s really in his soul with more films like Flashback. “If anything,” he adds bullishly, “it just makes me think: ‘Right, I’m really gonna show them now’.”

‘Flashback’ is out on digital platforms from June 4

#dylan o'brien #love and monsters press #flashback press #the outfit press

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cellard0ors · 4 years ago

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Fic: Movement (1/?)

This is dedicated to @peachworthy - my plan is to work on this when I can. I was going to try and write a full long thing (all puns intended) but thought it might be fun to just do sporadic bits instead!

“As you can see, it’s a pretty nice place…” Mr. Super Tall and Super Handsome and Super-Out-of-Link’s-League tells him as he walks him around the place. Link’s only been half listening because he’s been trailing behind this uniquely sexy giraffe of a man for about half an hour now and it’s been hard to not just…eat him up with his eyes.

Link’s lived in LA for about two years now and while he’s seen some attractive people, they all pale in comparison to…

…oh gosh, he’s forgotten his name again! Not a good thing to do when being toured by your potential roommate to be. Although Link’s pretty sure his current tour guide is just being nice.

No way he’s seriously considering letting Link move in. First of all, Link is a late in life college student trying to get a film degree. Second, this guy could have anyone live with him.

Anyone.

The fact he even needs a roommate is staggering. After all, this place is already furnished. It’s clear he’s lived here for a while now – so the need for someone else-? Link doesn’t get it.

But he sure as heck can’t stay on campus anymore. It’s embarrassing. Most of the other students there think he’s a professor as it is; and bunking with kids half his age has been a nightmare.

Not because he can’t identify with them per say, but because he just-? He wants to interact with people on the same wavelength as him.

And no way is this Greek God and he on the same wavelength. No doubt the guy’s an actor. Almost everyone in LA is. And, no doubt, the guy has probably had some gigs. Several, if the house is anything to go by…

Maybe he lost a role recently? Maybe that’s why he needs the extra income? It’s the only thing Link can think of and he’s stupid enough to voice that, “It is a nice place, man, but I don’t see how I’ll be much help. What you’ve got here looks pretty well lived in. Take it you’ve been here solo for some time and I’m not sure how-?”

“I have,” Handsome admits and oh, that southern drawl. It makes Link think of home. How perfect can one man be? “And, frankly, I don’t need a roommate, but I’d like a roommate.”

“For parts? Like the Black Market?” Link can’t help but joke, and the guy throws his head back and laughs and oh, no…

…Yeah, Link can’t live with this man. It hasn’t even been a full day and Link is practically already in love with him. And thinking of the ‘him’ he forces himself to sheepishly ask, “Um, I, ah, forgot your name again...”

“It’s Rhett.”

Of course it is.

Rhett is such a romantic name.

Rhett Butler immediately springs to mind and Link sighs, “Look, Rhett – like I said, it is a nice place, but-!”

“I tell you what I’d expect in rent?” he asks and when he lists the price, Link decides that – besides being insanely attractive – that the guy is just insane in general.

The rent is cheap. Far, far cheaper than Link expected and it must show on his face, because Rhett shrugs, “Look, Link – I can’t say what it is, but I gotta feeling about you. I’ve met with a couple of potential roommates and, honestly, none of them have gone this far. I haven’t let ‘em. But there’s something about you…”

“My natural charm?” Link asks, but he’s sort of giggly and weird when he does and oh, gosh – why is he so awkward? Isn’t he too old for this? Don’t you reach a certain age and awkwardness just…drops off?

But apparently not and, apparently, Rhett isn’t turned off by it, because he gives him a warm grin, “Might be.”

“Rhett…”

“Might be the accent to be honest,” he confesses, seeming almost shy and that should be illegal, because it just highlights how cute he is, “I’m from North Carolina and it just-!”

“Hey!” Link perks up, “Me too!”

“Really?” Rhett gushes and Link nods, “Yeah, Buies Creek.”

“Oh! My family and I almost moved there! Ended up in Charlotte instead!”

“Wow! Crazy! What are the odds!” And Link hates every cliched thing coming out of his mouth right now, but he can’t seem to stop and Rhett just looks so damned pleased.

As if his feeling about Link is right on the money and Link wishes it was, but this can’t possibly work. Can it? And just as Link is about to voice that, Rhett suddenly looks…apprehensive. Fidgety.

And Link’s caught a bit off guard by it, because – up until now – he’s been so cool. Cool and collected. But now Rhett runs a hand through his thick mane of hair and sighs as if a great weight is upon him, “Ah…actually, I, ah, well – I forgot…”

Here it is. Link’s been waiting for this. The big secret. The big reason someone as amazing as Rhett would need someone like him. Maybe it is the Black Market thing. Link has some nice organs. Real juicy. Maybe revealing his background has made the big guy feel bad – like he can’t carve up a fellow North Caroliner.

Rhett rocks on his heels, “I told you, none of the other potential roommates made it this far and…there’s a reason for that. Even the one or two I kinda considered…well, I, um, I told them what I do for a living and that’s when things sort of fell apart…”

…oh shit. He IS a Black Market organ dealer!

Link’s Adam’s apple bobs as he looks around skittishly. The house is big and they’re alone in it. He’s been so distracted by how hot Rhett is that he hasn't even thought about that fact.

Until now.

What if the other potentials didn’t get this far because they got cut up beforehand? Maybe the whole roommate thing is a farce! Maybe it’s a con! A con to draw people in and-!

“I work in the entertainment industry.”

Link blinks. Blinks and feels like the dumbest man on planet earth as he says, “Well, yeah. You and half of LA. Heck, I’m here trying to get into film myself! Do some directing or sound editing or-!”

“No,” Rhett says firmly, smoothly, meeting Link’s eyes head on as he says in a full deep register, “When I say I work in the industry, I mean it. I’ve, um, had a pretty healthy and…and long career…”

“Really?” Link asks, eyes wide behind his glasses, “Have I seen anything you’ve-?”

“Doubt it,” Rhett interrupts with a humorless huff, “You don’t seem the type. But then,” he eyes him thoughtfully, “I’ve been surprised before…”

Link doesn’t know why he’s being so cagey about this, “What’ve you-?”

“My resume is…” Rhett finally looks away, as if he can’t bear to look at Link when he says it, “…of the adult variety.”

“The adult-?” Link starts to repeat and then it clicks. It clicks and it hits him so hard over the head it’s like a physical blow. The house, the handsomeness – the…everything.

Rhett looks back at him, jaw firmly set as he speaks, “Look, it’s not that I’m ashamed of what I do. Far from it. It’s just a job and it’s one I happen to be good at. But it’s also one that people in polite society aren’t too keen on and considering you’re from my home state you might-!”

“Porn?” Link croaks out and he feels a little like he might faint, “You’re a porn star?”

Rhett just kind of shrugs and the reason Link feels lightheaded has nothing to do with his shock at the man’s career and everything to do with the fact that Link has only seen a few porn films and none of them have ever stared someone so breathtakingly beautiful. The idea that Rhett has been in something like that…

Heat suffuses through Link’s system with equal mixes of lust and shame. Lust because, well, look at Rhett and shame because Link doesn’t want to just view the man as a sex object, Granted, that’s kind of his job, but it just seems…rude.

While Link doesn’t know Rhett well, he knows him well enough at this point to say he’s just a regular guy. An extremely gorgeous regular guy, but a regular guy all the same.

Thinking of him in simple black and white just doesn’t do him justice. So he’s a porn star. So what? He’s nice and this place is amazing and the rent suggested is fantastic and-!

“Take it by your silence you’re gonna decline…”

“No!” Link cuts in quickly and Rhett’s eyes shoot to him, wide and amazed, and Link feels a little sense of superiority at that. At catching this giant off guard, “No, uh – your…your profession isn’t a problem.”

“It’s not?”

“Well, I mean,” Link looks around once more, "You don’t-? You don’t film here, do you?”

The laugh that booms out of Rhett at that makes Link’s toes curl with pleasure, “Nah, man. This place is sacred. Like to keep my personal and professional life separate.”

“And…” Link scratches at the back of his head, “And you won’t, like…bring over a-a partner or partners and-!”

“Don’t have one,” Rhett admits and then the sexiest crinkles form around his eyes, “Although I gotta say, that’s about the slickest way anyone’s ever asked me if I was single…”

The heat from before returns full blast, no doubt coloring Link’s cheeks pure red and it comes completely from shyness, an emotion he is much more familiar with than most, “Oh, no! I-I wasn’t-!”

“Think you were asking if I do some weird sex shit here in the house of the personal variety and, again, no. You work in my field you kinda lose a bit of a taste for it.”

“For sex?”

Rhett nods, “And for a lot of things. It’s like I said – I'd like a roommate. Mainly ‘cause I’ve been feeling a little…disconnected of late. Feel like I need someone in my life who isn’t in the business. Someone I can just, y’know…” his shoulders roll and he bobs about a bit, clearly bashful, “…jam with.”

“Someone on your wavelength…” Link whispers and suddenly, Rhett’s idea that Link might be someone worth keeping around feels totally legitimate. Because Link is suddenly reciprocating it and then some. Because Link's starting to have a feeling about him too.

A feeling that this could work.

It really could.

And, this in mind, Link asks, “When can I move in?”

#rhink #randl #my writing #now one of my earlier question posts becomes clear does it not?#the title is from a hozier song #because that song sounds sexy and i couldn't think of anything else!

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itsclydebitches · 3 years ago

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PFFFF The newest Witcher trailes LITERALLY throws shade! They have the 'Geralt, but you've been such lone wofl so long, what change' and deadass show JASKIER before later shoving Geralt saying 'Yennefer' like a cheap 'no homo!' excuse. I can't. xD Whoever edited it knows what's on. xD

I feel so conflicted about the Jaskier-Geralt relationship in the show because on the one hand, yeah, they're definitely leaning into this non-romance in a way that can get uncomfortable for some, how shall I put this... jaded viewers lol. We know they'll never be canon. No matter what else we might say about Netflix's inability to accurately adapt the books, Geralt/Yennefer has always and will always be endgame, so getting intimacy between Geralt and Jaskier in these particular ways (flirty jokes, bath scene, argument staged like a breakup), while not explicitly queerbaiting, can make viewers feel... icky about it all. Especially for any show-only fans who might not know that Geralt/Yennefer is endgame. Many viewers, particularly American viewers, approach shows as malleable forms of entertainment that can provide them with the representation they crave, provided the fanbase is vocal enough about wanting it. And the more talk that surfaces about major, crucial changes to the plot that reinterpret huge swaths of the books' purpose and intent, the more it can feel like they might just change Geralt's love life too! Even though they (obviously) won't. And frankly shouldn't given that this is supposed to be a faithful adaptation.

Yet on the flipside, the Netflix versions of Jaskier and Geralt don't feel intimate to me at all. Their hostile introduction, Geralt outright punching him, the continued performance of 'I'm a big strong manly man who can't admit that he cares about others,' reducing decades of their bonding to a surprising, throwaway line, that argument when Geralt blames Jaskier for all his problems... it's terrible and I've never liked this dynamic for them (even as I, somewhat hypocritically, play with it in fic). So I'm like, you're intimate enough that fans are starting to side-eye the creators' intentions and yet simultaneously not intimate in any of the ways you should be if you were actually faithful adaptations of the book. And these problems, I believe, go hand-in-hand. By ignoring the actual friendship of the books, Netflix has been forced to "prove" that they care for one another by falling back on tired buddy tropes that, historically, fans have used as evidence for a potential romantic relationship. By not writing Geralt and Jaskier as having the open, witty, philosophical, caring-but-also-taking-no-shit relationship they had in the books, Netflix has fallen back on a dynamic that isn't doing their show any favors. Fans either hate it, or love it to the point where they expect something of the show that the show can never deliver.

So it's a mess! And that mess hasn't done Yennefer any favors either. I'm really not in a position to be defending that pairing - I've never hid that I'm not a Geralt/Yen fan - but whatever the books did that made others love their relationship... I don't think Netflix is capitalizing on that either. In that other ask I brought up how in the games their relationship seems to revolve entirely around Ciri and sex. If they're not talking about their daughter (or if Yen isn't being cruel) their relationship is just about how horny they are for each other, which... isn't really a relationship to me. Or at least, not the deep, "We belong together forever, we're basically soulmates" relationship that the franchise is going for. Same with Netflix. I never liked the foundation of their relationship being an ambiguous wish that tethered them irrevocably and a quickie in the rubble as a replacement for actually getting to know one another... but Netflix takes those aspects and emphasizes them to a disappointing degree.

"You spent a lifetime alone. What changed?"

"Yennefer of Vengerberg."

Yet when it comes time for the trailer to show us what this deep, insightful relationship is that changed a man after an entire lifetime of wandering alone... it's just sex. That's literally all Netflix is able to show us because that's the only meaningful interactions Geralt and Yen have had together. Here's a clip of them falling into bed together and Geralt, without any of that emotional work shown to the viewer, professes that he loves Yennefer the way she's always wanted to be loved.

Here's a clip of the joke we got where Jaskier is gaping over them having sex on the floor post-Yen nearly killing the lot of them.

I'm like... what out of any of this is meant to be appealing to me? Besides the fact that they're both hot as hell? (The casting does make my little bi heart happy lol.) For me, Geralt and Yen are a classic case of a story insisting they're meant for each other because That's Just How Stories Work, without doing any of the actual, you know, work to show us why they like each other, or how they got there, or why these superficial things (the sex is great!) trump the huge hurdles they should be working through. The games might have their flaws, but god bless 'em for letting the characters point out, "Hey... how do we even know this love is real and not just a byproduct of the djinn's wish?"

Geralt and Jaskier, as established, absolutely have their problems in the show, but I can understand why so many fans ship them over Geralt/Yen. And no, though bigotry can play a part, we also can't demonize the entirety of its popularity with, "You just hate women/are racist/creepily obsessed with queer men/whatever the latest accusation is." Rather, the popularity exists because, whatever their faults, it feels like they actually have a relationship in the show. We see them developing together in a way we simply don't get with Yennefer/Geralt and because that development isn't largely reduced to sex scenes—the narrative trying to pass every bonding moment off as True Love, with True Love equaling physical attraction—it comes across (at least to me) as more realistic and believable, especially given Geralt's character, someone who is emotionally closed off. If Vesemir (I think it's Vesemir) asked what changed and we deliberately cut to that moment of Jaskier leaving after Geralt drove him away... I'd more easily believe that yeah, this relationship is causing Geralt to rethink things in a way he hasn't for an entire lifetime. We've seen them travel together, become (begrudging) comrades, defend one another, do favors for each other, tease each other, have a major fight that they'll inevitably make up from, Jaskier is presented as Geralt's first friend, and none of this is tied to a questionable wish, or passed off as the totality of Geralt's development.

The fact that Netflix would include those lines, cut to a legitimately heart-wrenching moment between Geralt and Jaskier, but when it comes times to show his relationship with Yennefer, the most powerful moments are her without him (smashing the mirror, undergoing her transformation, stepping out in her new body for the first time, etc.) and their moments together are just sex—one of which is used partially for comedy—well... that just illustrates the problem for me. What relationship? The one that supposedly exists simply because the story says it's there? I don't think I'll ever be a Geralt/Yen shipper, but I'm perfectly capable of separating my personal preferences from subpar writing choices. Netflix is far into the latter. The way that they're adapting the story is, imo, hurting both fans of the book material and fans who are on the fence about book material. Because so few of these changes are working well, we've lost all the good the books contained and are now stuck with so much new bad. Basically, "No one liked that."

Except, of course, for the Geralt/Jaskier shippers riding the coattails of those tropes... though many will likely be disappointed and hurt by the series' end when they're not made canonical, with others growing frustrated with how the fandom has turned on them simply for liking what they were given. It's really turning into a lose-lose for everyone involved.

#witcher #twn #twn critical

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when-a-humble-bard · 5 years ago

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in ways that can’t be said

Summary: Geralt lives in a very dark and violent world. Good things are few and far between. He doesn't know what it means, really, to be in love.So when he falls in love with Jaskier, it happens slowly. Gradually. Reluctantly.Or, 10 moments where Geralt falls a little more in love with the bard no matter how much it scares him. Geraskier.

Companion piece to this fic but can be read separately.

Word Count: 6961

Warnings: canon-typical peril and violence, blood, injury, death mention (but no actual death), light Geralt whump, feral!Jaskier, headaches, fear of sensory overload, cursing, interpretation of canon scene with shipping lens, Yennefer makes a brief appearance, Ciri is part of this at one point, emotionally constipated Geralt, and then emotionally-overwhelmed Geralt, lots of softness and hurt/comfort elements, let me know if other warnings should be added.

A/N: These two have so much story to explore together, and I’m apparently just along for the ride. Edited by yours truly, so all mistakes are mine.

Read on AO3!

...

Geralt is on his second ale when the bard starts his set. The Witcher stays tucked away in the corner of the tavern where he usually prefers to sit, as it provides a decent vantage point of the room. That it also encouraged other people to leave him alone was, really, just an added bonus. Tonight seemed to be no exception that rule. Jaskier had sat across from him and jabbered on as he always did—his energy especially heightened given that it was right before a performance—but he had been the only one to engage the Witcher in conversation thus far.

The bard usually burned off his excess energy during his set. Geralt finds himself hoping the bard doesn’t expend too much of that energy, as they needed to head out early in the morning. Tired Jaskier was an even chattier Jaskier, and Geralt wasn’t sure he had the patience for it.

Jaskier is standing on the small stage across the tavern. Through the haze of idle chatter and drinks being poured at the bar, Geralt listens to Jaskier finish tuning the lute. The final string the bard plucks sounds slightly higher pitched than usual to the Witcher. He sees the tip of Jaskier’s tongue poke out between his lips in concentration, adjusting something on the instrument. He plucks it again. It sounds right to Geralt now, and the bard seems to agree if his satisfied nod is anything to go by.

He starts off with a popular tune—the one about the daughter of a fish merchant—and Geralt turns his attention to the venison and potatoes the barmaid sets in front of him before she quickly ducks away. Geralt stops paying close attention to Jaskier’s performance as his mind drifts to the rumors he’d caught wind of regarding a wraith. The trick would be finding someone who could confirm or deny the rumors; and if confirm, then someone who would pay him a fair price to deal with it.

He could also go kill it himself and hope to be able to sell it for parts, perhaps. That was riskier business, though. Still, Geralt considers the merits of it as Jaskier performs.

“Bard!” A sharp voice yanks Geralt from his thoughts. An older man, with thinning blonde hair and a stocky build, has leapt to his feet and immediately claimed the attention of the room. “If you keep singin’ the praises of the fuckin’ Butcher of Blaviken, I’ll break that fuckin’ lute o’er your fuckin’ head.”

Geralt’s jaw works. He’d always hated that name. He hates how it follows him like a shadow, the way it makes his arms feel heavy with Renfri’s unconscious weight every time he hears it. Still, it’s not a fight worth starting when he needs work and the man’s worst offense is using a name that travels with Geralt like a curse he can’t get rid of. He flexes his grip around the tankard in his hands instead.

“Sir,” Jaskier says, an odd and barely constrained edge to his voice, “the White Wolf is widely regarded as a hero across the Continent.”

“The Butcher ain’t no hero,” the man spits. “Just a monster gettin’ off on the sufferin’ of others.”

It’s an unoriginal insult, Geralt thinks. The Witcher’s lips press into a thin line before he swallows down more of the ale in front of him. If Jaskier is smart, he’ll let it go. He’ll stick to the songs in his repertoire that aren’t about Geralt, and he should still be able to charm the audience enough to earn a bit of coin for his trouble.

But Jaskier is—evidently—not a smart man.

“Bold words coming from someone who is too much a coward to face down the wraith plaguing his own town. The only thing you have less of than honor, sir, is shame. You slander the name of the very person ready to risk his life so that your crops don’t wither.” The bard’s eyes are aflame with indignation so strong it brings Geralt up short. “You call Geralt of Rivia a monster, but he is twice the man you will ever be.”

It’s such an impassioned, sincere defense… and all Geralt can do in the silence that seems to echo in the tavern after it is stare at the bard as something knots in his chest.

One of the man’s friends tugs on his arm and he sits again. Jaskier’s gaze doesn’t waver as he starts the next song.

“When a humble bard…”

II.

Jaskier drops a bucket of water onto his head, and Geralt hums at the welcomed shock, scrubbing the metallic, rancid scent of selkiemore off his face. The water smells faintly of rose, which the Witcher knows to be Jaskier’s doing. It’s… pleasant, if unnecessary.

“Now now,” Jaskier chides, “stop your boorish grunts of protest. It is one night of bodyguarding your very best friend in the whole wide world. How hard could it be?”

Geralt glances over at the bard. “I’m not your friend.” He wasn’t sure what Jaskier was to him, but friend seemed like the wrong term. It didn’t fit right in his mouth as a way to describe the bard.

“Oh, oh really? Oh, you usually just let strangers rub chamomile onto your lovely bottom?” Geralt levels a glare at Jaskier, but the bard seems unphased. “Yeah, well, yeah exactly. That’s what I thought.”

It’s all Geralt can do to not roll his eyes, watching Jaskier cross back to the salts and oils in front of him as he rambles. “Every lord, knight, and twopenny king worth his salt will be at this betrothal. The Lioness of Cintra herself of Jaskier’s triumphant performance!”

It’s a deflection at best, even as Jaskier throws some added salt to Geralt’s bath, and the Witcher just stares at the bard framed in the candlelight around them. He has the feeling Jaskier may be hiding something. Or rather, trying to redirect attention from something else.

“How many of these lords want to kill you?” Geralt asks flatly.

Jaskier’s façade deflates just a bit. “Hard to say,” he replies, and Geralt is reminded once again of how openly honest Jaskier tended to be. “One stops keeping count after a while. Wives, concubines, mothers sometimes.”

Geralt could do without the list, really. It sends a twist of unexpected annoyance through his chest. Jaskier notices—but then again, he’d always had this habit of paying more attention to Geralt’s expressions than most humans did. The Witcher isn’t sure why.

The bard sits on the edge of the tub, framing Geralt’s form with his outstretched hands. “Ooh, yeah, that face! Scary face. No lord in his right mind will come close if you’re standing next to me with a puss like that.”

Geralt reaches for his ale—he’s really not drunk enough to deal with this—when Jaskier snatches the cup out of his grip.

“Ooh, on second thought…” Jaskier continues, because he never seems to stop talking really, “might want to lay off the Cintran ale. A clear head would be best.” He pats Geralt’s shoulder as he stands.

It an unusually casual touch and Geralt’s skin tingles with it even after Jaskier steps away. Still, Geralt tries not to dwell on it. “I will not suffer tonight sober,” he growls, “just because you hid your sausage in the wrong royal pantry. I’m not killing anyone. Not over the petty squabbles of men.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” comes Jaskier’s voice from behind him. “You never get involved. Except you actually do, all the time.” Geralt snaps his gaze over to him, but he can’t find it in himself to argue with the bard on that point. Perhaps Jaskier had a point. At least on that front.

Jaskier crosses back in front of him. “Ugh,” he continues. “Is this what happens when you get old? You get unbearably crotchety and cantankerous?”

Geralt sighs, pulling his arms off the edge of the tub in the hopes that it will ease the way his shoulder is still tingling slightly from where Jaskier had rested his hand on it a moment ago.

“Actually, I’ve always wanted to know. Do Witchers ever retire?”

“Yeah,” Geralt snaps. “When they slow and get killed.”

“Come on,” Jaskier says, his voice softening just a little. “You must want something for yourself when all this monster hunting nonsense is over with.”

“I want nothing,” Geralt replies immediately. Instinctively, more than a legitimate answer. He hadn’t wanted anything for a very, very long time. And anything he may have wanted at one point certainly had proved itself impossible for a Witcher like himself to achieve, so what even would be the point to desire it in the first place?

There’s a waver to something in Jaskier’s eyes that puzzles the Witcher, but it’s gone before Geralt can put a name to it. “Well, who knows?” the bard says, crossing to the tub to crouch in front of Geralt. Jaskier is abruptly close like this, facing Geralt head-on while the Witcher sits in the wash basin. Geralt averts his eyes. “Maybe someone out there will want you.”

The idea that someone might want him one day like that—like how Jaskier is suggesting—sends a thrill of something almost like fear through the Wticher’s stomach.

“I need no one,” he replies immediately. Then he looks back at Jaskier. “And the last thing I want is someone needing me.”

“And yet,” Jaskier says softly, meeting Geralt’s gaze unwaveringly. “Here we are.”

And that—well. The almost-fear feeling in Geralt’s stomach turns to something a little less sharp. A little warmer. No less terrifying, and yet somehow… nice.

Geralt tears his gaze away, desperate for a distraction from that feeling. “Where the fuck are my clothes, Jaskier?”

III.

Geralt has lost track of just how many performances of Jaskier’s he has sat through over their years of travels together. He knows the bard’s musical repertoire nearly as well as he knows monster classifications. So really, the Witcher does not have an explanation, even to himself, of why this time is different.

But the bard is making his rounds, strumming his lute with a practiced ease, singing an exaggerated song about Geralt fending off a bruxa with one hand tied behind his back… and Geralt can’t take his eyes off him.

The Witcher had never enjoyed being the center of attention. A part of him had gotten used to it a long time ago—in his line of work, looking like he does, one has a nasty habit of drawing unwanted gazes—but he’d never sought it out. Then there was Jaskier, who thrived in environments just like this one, where he could command the center of attention. He thrived in backwater village taverns full of people desperate for mediocre ale and a good story.

And Geralt has to give credit where credit is due—Jaskier can spin a good tale. The bard reveled in it, even. Geralt hadn’t asked him, but he could tell from the man’s unrelenting enthusiasm that as much as Jaskier was a performer, not all of it was an act. There was an earnestness to him every time he sang. A genuine belief that what he was doing mattered.

Geralt takes another bite of the stew in front of him, his gaze not wavering as Jaskier finishes the song to enthusiastic applause. He grins, thanks the crowd graciously, and launches immediately into the next song. And still, Geralt watches.

The bard had discarded his blue doublet several songs ago, tossing it into the seat across from Geralt as he passed. Jaskier’s off white shirt is tucked into the blue pants that are several shades darker than his eyes, and those eyes are really what Geralt keeps finding his own gaze drawn to. Eyes that are vibrant with energy and life when they briefly meet Geralt’s across the room.

There’s a very unexpected, soft squeeze in Geralt’s chest.

The bard had always radiated light and joy on a level that Geralt privately thought outshone most other humans. Jaskier is a beacon—evidenced by the near-blinding grin that the bard throws to him before turning away—and Geralt feels the odd urge to shy away from it. As if that light might expose all the parts of him that he’d spent years hiding away.

But Jaskier is nothing if not relentlessly and stupidly persistent. And he seems—had always seemed—entirely unaware of how rare his own vibrancy truly is. It is an integral part of him that chooses again and again and again to share with others. And no matter how much they take from him, Jaskier seems to always have more he is willing to give.

It seems like a kind of selflessness to Geralt, and the tightness in his chest gives a sharp, aching clench.

IV.

Geralt and Jaskier end up at the same party completely by accident, really. The Witcher didn’t even know that the bard was in town; the last he’d heard of Jaskier’s recent exploits had him giving a guest lecture at Oxenfurt. Geralt had been passing through Temeria when he was approached and none-too-kindly asked to attend the king’s banquet. Geralt had almost turned the offer down—he didn’t like being seen as some novelty to be ogled at—but the promise of good food and decent drink didn’t sound horrendous, and besides. The king had demanded it, and Geralt really didn’t want to deal with the bloodshed that could’ve resulted from his refusal.

So he begrudgingly attended, and did his best to stick to the outskirts of the collection of boisterous ladies and lords that had amassed in the banquet hall. He’d seen Jaskier the moment the bard stepped into the room—sporting a golden doublet and a beaming grin—and Jaskier had seen him almost as quickly. There’d been a flicker of surprise, but then Jaskier was being asked to play a song to start things off, and he’d busied himself with performing.

The food is good, Geralt will grant that much, and the wine is some of the best that he’d consumed in a long time. He’s ribbed for a story or two by curious nobles, and Geralt tells them enough to pass for stiff politeness and little else. Jaskier had always been the one to fill in the details. Besides, Geralt finds that he doesn’t like telling them to the men who appear to only listen until they feel insecure in their own manhood.

Jaskier wasn’t like that, Geralt finds himself thinking. Jaskier listened for other reasons. Always attentive. Always… enthralled. Even when he was “stingy with the details”, as the bard often accused.

The party has stretched for hours when Jaskier finally takes a break and Geralt sees him starting to weave through the drunken crowd towards him. Geralt takes a long swallow of wine and arcs an eyebrow at the bard as he approaches. Jaskier smells of honeysuckle and sweat, his doublet open to reveal the light blue shirt underneath.

Jaskier’s eyes are bright, but there’s a slight crease between his brows. “How are you managing, Geralt?” he asks, with far more sincerity than Geralt is prepared for.

Geralt arcs a brow at him.

Jaskier just tilts his head, then gestures vaguely to the drunken dancing the attendees are doing. “It seemed a question worth asking, given tonight. It’s rather loud, even for me, and Temeria always overseasons their food in my opinion, not to mention the smells involved what with sweat and ale and food. I can’t imagine the assault it is on your… Witchery senses.”

Geralt stops, blinking at him. Jaskier was worried that he—a Witcher—was… overwhelmed? Geralt wonders if he should be insulted, but he isn’t. There’s an odd feeling in his gut, something warm that isn’t alcohol, that stirs at Jaskier’s explanation. Geralt doesn’t know what to say. He just stares at him.

Jaskier holds his hands up as if in surrender. “Forgive me for checking in on a friend.” He drops his hands, the tilt to his head returning and his gaze… softening somehow. “You’ll tell me, though, won’t you, Geralt? If it gets to be too much?”

Suddenly, that soft, concerned look in the bard’s eyes is too much. Geralt looks away and distracts himself by taking a swallow of wine. “Hm,” he agrees.

Geralt hears Jaskier scream something that sounds almost like his name before he even feels the bite. The sharp jaws clench around his thigh and Geralt grits his teeth, swinging blindly with the silver sword. It makes contact with the basilisk enough to make it shriek and pull back. But it already released venom, and Geralt feels it pulse with a blinding pain.

His vision swims. His knees buckle, slamming into the stone floor of the cavern.

“Fuck.” The world tilts sideways as the rest of him falls.

A voice, high and panicked and oddly familiar, is yelling something distantly. Far away. Too far away to help him, really.

He has to get up. He has to. Geralt grinds his teeth and pushes against the ground with as much strength as he can manage. He gets his chest off the ground but his legs won’t cooperate and then suddenly someone is leaping over him and snatching the silver sword beside him.

“You want him? You’re gonna have to go through me, fucker.”

Jaskier?

Geralt watches in a haze as the bard lunges at the basilisk with the silver sword in his hands.

“Jaskier!” he shouts, because the bard is stupid and reckless and he is going to get killed.

But the bard doesn’t respond, and Geralt watches as the blade flashes in the dark cavern. The Witcher struggles to push himself up but now his arms won’t even support him and he’s going to die, but first the world is going to make him watch Jaskier die and that thought fills Geralt with a cold, desperate dread.

“Jaskier!”

There’s a sick squelching sound and when Geralt looks, he sees the bard is up against the creature with the hilt of his sword buried into the basilisk’s chest. It screeches and thrashes, and Geralt’s breath chokes in his throat. But Jaskier is nothing if not nimble, and he rolls to avoid the wings that whip around towards him. The screeching gets louder for a moment. The creature stumbles. Collapses.

There’s a sudden, echoing silence that is filled only with the sound of Jaskier’s labored breathing and, at least for Geralt, his pounding heartbeat.

“Jask—” Geralt rasps, wanting to ask if he’s injured but his voice cutting out with the sharp burst of pain as the venom seizes.

He’s going to die.

“Geralt.”

Jaskier is suddenly right above him. When did that happen?

Geralt feels Jaskier brush a hand back through his hair and cup his head. Something is getting pushed against his lips.

“Drink it, darling,” Jaskier murmurs, so softly that Geralt wonders—perhaps deliriously—if the bard is even aware that he’s just called Geralt darling, of all things.

When he looks back on this moment, Geralt will say that the venom coursing through his system made his thoughts hazy and his will pliable. That his weakened state is why the warmth in his chest happens even before the potion Jaskier is forcing to his lips reaches his mouth. It has nothing to do with that term Jaskier used.

Nothing at all.

VI.

It’s the soft gasp that really gets Geralt’s attention, causing him to halt Roach and glance at the bard beside him. They have maybe about two hours before sundown and had spent most of the day traveling along this road headed towards Kaedwen. Jaskier had filled most of the long hours with aimless chatter and half-composed songs. Geralt half-listened, grateful for the familiarity of the lilt in the bard’s voice even if he wasn’t constantly tuned in to the precise words the bard happened to be rambling on about. He’d missed the way Jaskier filled the silence since their parting after the dragon hunt.

Then Jaskier’s musings had broken off with a sudden, sharp inhale.

“Oh, Geralt, look!” Jaskier breathes with surprising reverence. Geralt doesn’t have time to ask the bard what caught his attention before he’s rushing off into the field of wildflowers just ahead of them, nearly 70 yards away.

The Witcher goes to call out to him, but something makes the bard’s name die in his throat. He watches as Jaskier spreads his arms out as he rushes into the expanse of yellow and violet and blue. The sun sits low in the sky and frames him in a soft halo of light as he rushes delightedly through the flowers. Geralt’s chest warms slightly.

Jaskier looks over his shoulder at him then, like he can sense it, and offers Geralt a dazzlingly bright smile. He kneels then, in the middle of the field as if he’s about to meditate, and his fingers brushing softly against the petals of the flowers around him before he flops onto his back. Sinks into the flowers around him.

Geralt had never really known what it meant to love. He’d read once that most people learn of love from their parents when they’re children, but his own mother had abandoned him to become a Witcher—a process so few boys survived that, really, she might as well have abandoned him to die. Geralt refuses to believe that was what love was supposed to look like. Or how it was supposed to feel.

Earlier in his life, Geralt used to ask. He’d see couples who claimed to be in love, and he’d wonder what that meant. What did it feel like, because Geralt didn’t know. The answers others provided to him were either full of derision—what does it matter, Witcher? You’re not capable of it anyway—or too vague to be of any help—it’s just something you feel, I think.

Then he met Jaskier, who seemed to be brimming with love all the time it was a wonder the bard didn’t burst. He sang songs that talked of love in romantic, elaborate metaphors that Geralt understood at surface level, but that gave him a bit of a headache when he thought too long about them. Jaskier seemed to understand this concept of love so readily and intrinsically that it was, in truth, a little intimidating.

But when Jaskier sits up as Geralt approaches him—flower petals and grass clinging to his hair, his blue eyes sparkling in the near-setting sun, a warm and content smile gracing his lips—the thought whispers unassuming in Geralt’s mind.

Maybe, just maybe, this is what love feels like.

VII.

“You, Princess, are beginning to take after Geralt with the amount of brooding you’ve been doing today,” Jaskier chimes lightly, but Geralt looks up and sees the crease of concern between his brows. “And that will simply not do, because I can’t very well be surrounded by brooding, angst-ridden individuals, now can I?”

Geralt glances over at Yennefer, who merely arcs an unimpressed eyebrow at the bard. The cottage Yennefer had recently taken up residence in was small and unassuming on the outside. It seemed larger on the inside, more spacious, and Geralt knew it to be the work of an enchantment set on by the sorceress. Ever since Sodden, Yennefer had needed to be careful in her own right about avoiding and evading the ever-growing presence of Nilfgaard. She moved every few months, but had taken Ciri under her wing the past few weeks to teach her control her “chaos”, as she’d called it. Geralt called it magic.

They’d been dropping by to check in before moving on, and Jaskier’s comment wasn’t off the mark. Geralt had noticed it as well.

There were days when Ciri’s quietness rivaled the Witcher’s own. Where the Lion Cub of Cintra seemed saddled with a weight too heavy for a girl of her age. On those days, Geralt thinks he understands more than most would—the dullness in her icy blue eyes is brought on by the fog of grief of losing everyone she loved in a night and watching her city burn as she fled. It reminds the Witcher of how he’d felt following sacking of Kaer Morhen.

But just because Geralt understands doesn’t mean he’s known what to do on those days. He hates it. Hates that he doesn’t know how to help her, because nobody had been there to help him.

Ciri glances up at Jaskier from where she sits beside Geralt. “I just… miss home, Jaskier. That’s all.”

Jaskier’s lips press together in thought, his head tilting slightly. Geralt watches as something brightens in his eyes before he says, “Well, I have just the thing for that.” He glances over. “Yennefer?”

The sorceress looks as surprised as Geralt feels, but Jaskier just quirks a brow at her and Yen smiles faintly before inclining her head. Geralt doesn’t have a clue what silent request the bard has made, but he starts strumming a familiar song on the lute in his hands for several seconds—it’s upbeat, and though Geralt can’t place the title of it, he knows he recognizes it as one of Jaskier’s jigs. A few seconds go by, and then Jaskier’s fingers stop plucking at the strings but the music continues to fill the space.

Jaskier grins, and when Geralt glances at Yennefer, he sees that she’s got a faint smile as well.

The bard sets the lute aside and jumps gracefully to his feet. He extends a hand out to Ciri, his smile soft and sincere. “Will you dance with me, princess?”

Ciri hesitates for only a moment before she takes Jaskier’s hand. Jaskier’s grin brightens, and the two of them fall into a dance that Geralt recognizes as one usually done at court amidst nobility. It doesn’t surprise Geralt that Jaskier knows the dances of court—he has to play them often enough so it makes sense to Geralt that he would also know the steps—but a part of him is surprised when he hears Ciri laughing.

As she and Jaskier spin in circles and the bard adds an extra flourish to one of his steps, Ciri smiles and laughs and something in Geralt’s chest gives a sharp squeeze. Jaskier grins back at her, looking as relieved and content at the spark of mirth in her eyes as Geralt feels, and the Witcher feels a very slight, and unexpected lump in his throat.

VIII.

“Geralt?”

“Hm.”

“Will you let me try something?”

The question is asked surprisingly quietly in the dark forest around them, barely louder than the crackling fire between them. Geralt doesn’t know why Jaskier would be speaking so quietly, but a part of him counts it as a small mercy. Because the pressure behind his eyes that had started this morning had steadily grown to a dull throb up through the top of Geralt’s skull by mid-morning. By late afternoon, the headache wasn’t quite so dull anymore.

Geralt hadn’t seen a need to say anything about it, though. He just rode on Roach and tried to not squint too much against the blinding sunlight that made his head spike. Jaskier had seemed to lose steam in conversation as Geralt was even more unwilling to engage with him than normal. He hoped the bard wasn’t too offended, as by the early evening, it was really all Geralt could do to stay upright on Roach and keep moving forward.

“A new song?” Geralt muses, and carefully manages to keep the internal wince off his face.

Jaskier huffs something that’s almost a laugh. “No. Just… here.” He turns to the bag beside him and rummages through it. Geralt watches in the dim light of the fire as the bard pulls out a small cloth and a vial. He dampens the cloth with part of the contents, then pushes himself to his feet and crosses over. He kneels beside him.

There’s something soft in his eyes, Geralt thinks. Or maybe it’s just the way his face is shadowed that makes his eyes look bigger than normal. “Close your eyes, Geralt.”

And Geralt does. He tries to tell himself it’s because even the firelight is too much with this pounding in his head, but he knows it’s not just that. It’s such a simple, easy request and it’s Jaskier that makes it. So Geralt lets his eyes fall shut.

He feels Jaskier drape the cloth over his face. “Breathe in for me.”

He does. It’s lavender oil, he realizes. The scent is faint, diluted—careful to not be too overpowering, even given his enhanced sense of smell—but it blocks out most other scents around him. Geralt feels part of his jaw untense just a fraction.

“That’s it. Keep breathing.”

He feels Jaskier’s hands brush against his temples, then a slight nudge and some shifting and suddenly, Geralt is being guided to rest his head against something softer than the log it had been on a moment ago. Jaskier’s lap. Through the lavender, this close, Geralt can smell the faint honeysuckle traces that seemed to cling to the bard.

“Let me help,” Jaskier whispers in the dark, and then his fingers are moving deftly against Geralt’s temple, gradually up through his scalp, encouraging Geralt to breathe.

Through the ease of his muscles and the lightening of the tension in his head, Geralt becomes aware that somehow, Jaskier had known exactly what was wrong. Geralt is sure he hadn’t said anything about it, and a headache is hardly a life-or-death situation. But Jaskier knew and, more than that…

Let me help.

The Witcher feels a little dizzy all of a sudden and so abruptly vulnerable that it scares him a little bit. It sends a jolt of something sharp and electric up through his core but Geralt swallows down the urge to pull away because… it’s nice. This softness, this gentleness that Geralt does not and has never deserved is offered so willingly, and Geralt cannot bring himself to pull away.

Instead, he breathes and listened to Jaskier’s fluttering heartbeat.

IX.

Geralt feels the drops hit the top of his head seconds before the rain begins a steady sprinkle. Geralt isn’t shocked, exactly. The sky had been a flat overcast since this morning, and he could smell the promise of rain clinging in the air as he and Jaskier had gathered herbs about a mile outside of the village they were staying for the time being.

But then the sprinkle turns to a downpour. “Fuck,” Geralt sighs under his breath.

He glances over at the bard beside him, who a moment ago had been rambling about his recent lecture at Oxenfurt regarding the role of narrative music in shaping cultural perspective. Geralt had a feeling that the bard had, in fact, just delivered the exact speech to the Witcher, but he hadn’t minded. Not when Jaskier’s voice carried that familiar, melodic lilt that underscored his excitement and passion on the subject.

There’s a teasing mirth in Jaskier’s bright blue eyes that eases into something softer. Geralt doesn’t know why. For a moment, it looks like the bard—for once—is lost in his own thoughts that he doesn’t speak aloud. It’s… unusual.

Geralt opens his mouth to ask him or tease him—he’s honestly not sure which is about to pass from his lips—when Jaskier cuts him off.

“And you thought the lute case was a poor investment. Well, how do you feel now, Geralt?” Jaskier sets his hand on the strap across his chest, almost protectively. “We still have a mile to go before shelter, and such time for a lute to spend in rain like this…” He shakes his head, his dark hair dripping rainwater onto his nose. “It would be nothing short of an absolute, irrevocable tragedy.”

“Hmm,” Geralt replies, because perhaps the bard has a point. A raindrop unceremoniously drips into Geralt’s eye and he blinks, then shoots a glare up at the sky.

“Not a fan of the rain?” Jaskier asks.

The truth is, Geralt isn’t a fan of the rain. Not really. It makes it harder to see, and it clings to his lashes in a way that makes his already sensitive eyes sting a bit. Which isn’t anything he can’t handle—he’s done it hundreds of times before, he’ll do it hundreds of times yet to come—but the rain would also wash away most of the tracks he’d been hoping to follow later this evening to the kikimora that was terrorizing the town.

“It will make it harder to track—what are you doing?” Geralt cuts himself off when he looks back at the bard, who is half-way to shedding his violet doublet. Jaskier finishes pulling out of it. His dark blue shirt underneath is immediately drenched.

Unfazed, Jaskier rolls his eyes. “You left your cloak back at the inn and I know, though you will adamantly deny it, that the real reason you hate the rain is because it gets into your eyes and makes it harder for your sensitive, Witchery eyes to see. So, here.” He holds the garment out, his gaze looking down the road ahead of them.

Geralt stares at it. This was… ridiculous. Jaskier was sacrificing his own comfort so that Geralt could… what, block some of the rain a bit easier? Not only did Jaskier gain nothing from this but he actively lost something in the name of Geralt’s comfort and… the Witcher doesn’t know what to do with that. It was such a small, simple gesture but there’s a weight to it that Geralt cannot ignore.

Something heavy, warm, soft sits in his stomach as he stares at it.

“Jaskier…”

“Honestly, Geralt, you’ll be doing me a favor. Wet doublets are dreadfully heavy, and as I am already saddled with carrying the weight of this lute and your reputation…” Jaskier glances back then and offers a smile.

It’s a flimsy attempt to make Geralt feel better about accepting Jaskier’s simple selflessness. A part of Geralt wants to refuse. But when Jaskier is smiling at him like that, offering such a small piece of him that doesn’t feel that small to Geralt… well. Geralt finds himself taking the doublet from his hands gently.

And if Jaskier spins away to welcome the rainfall as Geralt holds the doublet above his head to shield the rain, well. Maybe that heavy, warm, soft feeling spreads through him in a way that makes the rain feel not quite so cold and annoying.

Geralt hears it first. There’s the sound of something snapping with a flash of green light behind him and it’s all less than a second but Geralt still feels that he should have been faster.

Because he looks over his shoulder, sees Jaskier hit the ground with the sound breaking bones echoing in his ears.

Jaskier screams.

“JASKIER!” Geralt roars, but panic closes his throat in the next moment. He slashes viciously at the figure in front of him, and the head of the injured soldier in front of him rolls off his shoulders. Geralt growls low in his throat—Jaskier is silent and Geralt is shaking—and hurls the knife at his belt towards the mage almost blindly.

It sinks between her eyes. The sting of copper in the air barely registers to the Witcher because all he can focus on—all he can smell—is the acrid, sharp scent of pain that radiates from Jaskier on the forest floor, several feet away. Geralt’s eyes snap to him before the mage has even hit the ground and he sees the way Jaskier is trembling so hard he’s vibrating but at least he’s moving. At least he’s breathing.

Geralt makes sure the mage isn’t, and then he’s sprinting the short distance to Jaskier and sliding to him on his knees. Jaskier is on his side, his back to the Witcher. As gently as he can, Geralt places a hand on his shoulder and rolls the bard onto his back.

Jaskier whimpers, his face ashen, and the sound turns Geralt’s stomach. The bard’s eyes clench shut.

“Jaskier.”

Geralt’s slow-beating heart is hammering so loud and so hard he wonders if the bard can hear it. This close, the scent of Jaskier’s pain is so pungent and potent that it clogs Geralt’s throat. He dove in front of a spell for you, a voice hisses in Geralt’s mind. That pain should be yours.

“Fuck,” Jaskier manages to wheeze out weakly.

“What the fuck were you thinking, you goddamn idiot?” Geralt grits out, and his voice very nearly breaks. It’s the wrong thing to say—Geralt always says the wrong things. Always, always, always. And always when he’s afraid. But it’s the only ones of the words he can think to say that will push past his tight throat.

“My dear Witcher,” Jaskier replies, his own voice strained but for a different reason, “you’re quite lucky I love you, or else I might be insulted.”

The words echo in Geralt’s mind. I love you, I love you, I love you. Over and over and over. They ring with an ease and sincerity, because Jaskier never did anything by halves, even when he may be dying. Dying. And Geralt feels something breaking inside of him.

And still, the words repeat. I love you, I love you, I love you—Until the words sound less like Jaskier and a lot more like his mind repeating it back to the bard.

“Jask,” he whispers, his throat too tight to even get the bard’s full name out. His hands are shaking a bit, but he thinks Jaskier won’t mind, and he brushes his hand against Jaskier’s face. “You can’t—you…” He can’t just… just say things like that, so boldly, so cavalier.

With a courage that Geralt cannot match.

“Fuck,” he says instead. Because the words that flood him cannot find their way through his chest to his lips.

His swirling thoughts cut out as he sees Jaskier try suddenly to push himself up. Mindful of the damage to the human’s ribcage, Geralt lets the hand on his face slip to the back of the bard’s neck and grabs his less-injured arm to ease him up. Then Geralt just holds on tight. An irrational part of Geralt thinks that if he lets go, Jaskier might really slip from him in a way that Geralt cannot fix.

The Witcher breathes in, and the sharp scent of Jaskier’s pain is starting to lift. Jaskier offers a faint smile. “Not a lethal spell, it would seem.”

A distant part of Geralt goes a little weak with relief. The rest of him wants to shake the bard. “You didn’t know that,” he snaps. Because Jaskier didn’t, he’d just decided to dive in front of a spell that could have been anything. He could have… he almost…

“A moot point, really, Geralt.”

And that… that hurts, in a different kind of way. There’s no regret in Jaskier voice or his scent or his eyes. He would do it again, Geralt knows this, and it terrifies him. Jaskier would risk himself for Geralt.

Geralt shakes his head a little and starts to reply, to ask why, but the breath he takes still has that haze of acridity to it. He frowns instead. “You’re still hurt,” he says. It’s not a question.

Jaskier then has the audacity to wave a dismissive hand. “Some broken ribs.”

“Hm.” He could help with those, he thinks. His gaze flickers over Jaskier’s chest. He knows how to help with those injuries. The spell wasn’t lethal. Geralt should be feeling relieved and a small part of him is. The rest of him feels like the ground has shifted beneath him and Geralt still doesn’t know how to hold himself steady. I love you, Jaskier’s voice echoes in his mind, but it only makes Geralt feel a little more cracked open. Because maybe Jaskier didn’t mean it. Maybe it was just something he said in the throes of dying--

“Geralt,” Jaskier says, so unbearably soft. He instinctively meets the bard’s gaze. Jaskier’s bright blue eyes are remarkably steady. “I meant it, you know. I do. Love you, I mean.”

Geralt’s breath hitches in his throat. Because here was this remarkably fragile person who had followed him across the Continent for years, had seen the absolute worst that Geralt had to offer… this person who radiated warmth and light and love, so much love, and was everything Geralt wasn’t, and was saying these words so easily. Geralt’s fear had come true—Jaskier’s light had seen the darkest parts of him, but Jaskier chose to love him anyway.

“Jaskier,” he manages, and his own voice has never sounded quite so weak to his own ears. He leans forward until his forehead is against Jaskier because Jaskier was that beacon of light calling to him. Grounding him. “I… fuck.” He can’t find the words again. “Fuck.”

He does the only thing he can think to do in this moment, to try to convey all the words he can’t find. He brushes his lips against Jaskier’s, softly. Afraid to demand or hurt, afraid, afraid, afraid. So he presses his dry, cracked lips against Jaskier’s impossibly soft ones. Questions he dare not ask taste like salt that he passes to Jaskier’s own, and Jaskier answers with silent promises and a breathless little huff of contentment.

Jaskier is more than a beacon. He is a lighthouse, calling Geralt home. And Geralt cannot help but feel that he’d follow that light to the ends of the world.

#geraskier #geraskier fanfic #geraskier fanfiction #the witcher #witcher fanfic #cursing #in which geralt struggles with feelings #and then is overwhelmed by how much he cares #is that he jaskier or geralt himself? you ask #the answer is yes to both

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365days365movies · 4 years ago

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January 29-31, 2021: The Mad Max Franchise

Now that I’ve finished watching all of the Mad Max films, I can confidently say that I am indeed a fan! The journeys of the ex-cop through a post-apocalyptic landscape that just gets increasingly worse and worse. Yeah, I can dig it.

And so, I thought it’d be fitting to talk about all of these movies at once, rather than just talk about them one at a time. And I mean ALL of these movies. After all, I started this month by saying the Fury Road was my favorite action film; might as well end it talking about the movie!

Recap

Mad Max: 78%

Mad Max was a great movie, honestly. It’s also HANDS-DOWN the weakest of the quadrilogy. I think that, since this is Miller’s first film, as well as being the first in this franchise in general, this is Miller carving out this universe on screen for the first time, so it doesn’t feel as fleshed out and as stylistically unique as the succeeding films. So, it’s hard to hold that against this film. Anyway, let’s break it down a little.

Cast and Acting: It’s legitimately nice to see Mel Gibson before he became...well, Mel Gibson, at least from a cinematic standpoint. And yes, Hugh Keays-Byrne is certainly memorable as Toecutter, and is a fitting first villain to the franchise. But, uh...that’s it for standout performances. Yeah, Joanne Samuel is endearing as Jess, and I like Steve Bisley as Goose, of course. But they don’t take the spotlight in my memory as much as our main two players. Which, obviously, is fine, but I like me a good supporting character in there as well. Still, this is getting a good 8/10 from me.

Plot and Writing: Plot’s you’re pretty standard cop story. Cop is awesome, cop wants to quit to spend time with family, cop’s family is killed by the villain, cop destroys villain. Not much outside of that. The biggest thing to praise to story for is the mild universe-building given to us. And even then, there isn’t a whole lot. Not, of course, that there needs to be. Credit goes to George Miller, Byron Kennedy, and James McCausland for this 7/10.

Directing and Action: George Miller’s cutting his teeth on the celluloid for the first time, and it’s awesome...for a first-time director, anyway. As for the action: yes, please. It doesn’t have the same pageant s future entries in this franchise, but it’s certainly great at the same time. Overall, 8/10 here.

Production and Art Design: It’s beginning, even though it’s not there yet. This universe hasn’t become the post-apocalyptic hellscape that it’s going to become, but the beginnings are there. Because of this, leather might be a dominating fashion choice, but...not as much as its gonna be. But, OK, let’s stop comparing this to the rest of the franchise. On its own merits, this film looks good! Doesn’t stand out too harshly from the crowd, but it still looks quite good. So, 8/10 here, too!

Music and Editing: Tony Patterson and, yes, George Miller were the editors for this mad boy, and they sought to make an Australian film with a fast-editing style, and in a way that the film could work without sound, as well as with. They way they incorporated sound and music (by Brian May, but not the one you’re thinking) into the film would actually be incorporated as industry standard practice in general! Wow! So for all that...8/10. It’s good, but this is early in their careers, so it can be a teensy bt choppy at time. And the music’s recognizable, but not particularly memorable after the fact. But still, 8/10.

Mad Max 2 AKA The Road Warrior: 92%

This is where I start to fall in love with the franchise. The Road Warrior is where the franchise really begins for me, and it’s EXTREMELY high up on my favorite action films list for this month. Obviously not the highest, but it’s up there for sure.

Cast and Acting: Gibson’s starting to come into his own and own this character, and I think this film is where he’s at his finest as Max. Definitely the most memorable and noteworthy. Antagonists, both Vernon Wells and Wez, and Kjell Nilsson as Lord Humungus, are fanTAStic, and I love them both. Supporting cast also ain’t no slouch this time! Bruce Spence’s Gyro is a wonderful character, and extremely fun to watch. Even the settlers, like Michael Preston’s noble portrayal of Papagallo, were memorable to me. Great cast all around, and they’re getting a 9/10 from me. Why not a 10? Well, for all of those performances, there’s also Feral Kid and Toadie...so, it’s not perfect

Plot and Writing: Plot’s definitely more interesting this time around! We’ve gone into the deep end of apocalypse, as compared to the first film, and we instead get an enforcer storyline for Max. And, yeah, I love that. This movie would carve out the tone of the rest of the franchise, and there’s a reason for that: it’s great. Terry Hayes, Brian Hannant, and of course, George Miller, you guys get a 9/10 for this one, too!

Directing and Action: Right off the bat 10/10. Action is AMAZING IN THIS MOVIE, and George Miller is doing a great job with directing. Not much to say here, other than the fact that this movie looks fantastic, all the way through.

Production and Art Design: A 9/10. This is where the franchise comes into its own, and it does that with a HELL of a lot of leather and metal studs. And yeah, the villains of this movie have a BDSM vibe about them, but it’s still iconic. Not to mention that the vehicles are now taking their true, metal-modded forms. Again, 9/10.

Music and Editing: Brian May turned it UP this time, and the music here is iconic and great. Editing’s pretty good, too, although I did notice some spotty sound editing areas, like in Mad Max. For this one, 9/10 as well.

Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome: 86%

I honestly wish this was rated higher for me, but there are a few issues that I did have with it. However, I gotta say, this one might be the second-highest in my heart. You know what the number one is. Still, I wanna talk about this one, because it’s what made be fall in love with the universe of this franchise.

Cast and Acting: By the time we get here, Mel Gibson is, well...Mel Gibson. He kind of stops inhabiting the role of Max at this point, and becomes the ‘80s and ‘90s action star that we’re all familiar with. So instead, the focus should be on the villains. Tina Turner! WHOOOOOO, Aunty Entity! Look, I love Lord Humungus, but Tina Turner definitely beats him in terms of character. And I might like Wez, but I love MasterBlaster, and...well, mostly Angelo Rossitto. Paul Larsson’s good too, even though there isn’t much acting in the role. And then, there’s Helen Buday, Tom Jennings, and the rest of the desert kids. And let’s not forget Bruce Spence or Edwin Hodgeman! Yeah, this one earns its 9/10 for some memorable performances. Might not have been Oscar-worthy, but they have a special place in my heart.

Plot and Writing: Intricate plot this time! It does seem like George Miller and Terry Hayes get better and better with each movie. Real talk, the universe-building in this one is INTENSE, and well-done for that matter. And the writing’s good as well. This one gets another 8/10, because it’s not perfect in the writing department, but it’s still damn good!

Directing and Action: Y’know, weirdly, 8/10 on this one. Yeah, the action’s pretty damn light here, as compared to the previous two films. Not that I’m complaining, mind you, I love me some good character development and story. But if I’m judging it for action, it’s a bit less. Still, direction’s fantastic; definitely George Miller’s best effort so far. So, 8/10.

Production and Art Design: No surprise, but it’s a 10/10 here. The style of these films is evolve WAY FURTHER with this one, as we get the sense that the world has gotten worse, just by pure physical comparison. And yet, everything is starting to return to some kind of rudimentary order, with places such as Bartertown. Yeah, this one RULES visually, and I would say it’s arguably the best yet.

Music and Editing: Well, music’s still good, but the tone shift from rock instrumentals is a little jarring. Still, for the score, Maurice Jarre does good. And, yeah, Turner’s power ballad, “We Don’t Need Another Hero”, is more well-remembered than the movie itself by many. Hell, I had NO IDEA that this song came from this movie. But for all of that (and for great editing), an 8/10 is going here.

Mad Max Fury Road: 94%

Need I say anything? Let’s get into this one.

Cast and Acting: Well, Tom Hardy’s Max Rocktansky is fine, and definitely takes off of Gibson’s earlier portrayals, but I can’t really say he’s the absolute star. No, that’s the Atomic Blonde herself, Charlize Theron. Furiosa is FAR more memorable than Max here, and that’s pretty obviously on purpose. And hey, Hugh Keays-Byrne is back for a FAR more memorable villain in Immortan Joe. GOD, I love Joe; he’s great. And again, supporting cast aren’t slouching a BIT. Nicholas Hoult, Rose Huntington-Whiteley, and of course...iOTA. You know, the Doof Warrior. Yeah. The dude who plays the blind flamethrower guitarist on the back of a truck is called the Doof Warrior, and is played by a dude who calls himself iOTA. I LOVE THIS GODDAMN MOVIE. 10/10!

Plot and Writing: OK, I’l freely admit that this is the weakest element of an otherwise amazing movie. Because, yeah, it’s basically one long chase with some background plot. Not bad, but not great at the same time. While it’s certainly engaging, and the writing is overly memorable, I’m still giving this one an 8/10.

Directing and Action: I mean...c’mon. 10/10.

Production and Art Design: I mean...COME ON. 10/10!

Music and Editing: MUUUUUUSIC. Junkie XL is the composer this time, and he’s put to excellent usage. Yeah, this is the most memorable music in the franchise, bar none. And the editing is also great, as per usual. While it’s not on my playlist (yet), it deserves to be, just for pump-up music. Although, if I listen to that while driving...eh, maybe not. 9/10!

And the winner is Mad Max Fury Road, at a...94%.

Wait...94%? OH. OH NO.

That means...it’s been dethroned? I, uh...I’m gonna have to figure that out. End-of-month summary?

End-of-month summary. See you later today, people.

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laurelnose · 4 years ago

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new year update

- I am, in fact, still alive, I guess. almost surprising, tbh! doing a little better—still not great, but better. it’s cool, I don’t expect miracles from myself.

- thank you everyone for all the well-wishes. i can’t respond to everything individually but i do appreciate all of them and all of you 💛

- i’ve been thinking about if/how I want to start re-engaging with fandom. definitely I want to change some things about the way I do fandom in 2021, as debilitating mood disorder aside, I’m pretty dissatisfied with the current state of affairs. just for one, my audience is larger than i ever expected it to get and i need to re-evaluate some stuff.

- @eskelchopchop tagged me in that 5-favorite-things-you-created-in-2020 thing, & I thought yeah, it’s probably a good idea to take some time to meditate a bit on the things I managed to create this year. made me realize I did make a fair amount of stuff I forgot about and that was nice to remember! so, thanks for the tag, i appreciate it. cutting for length!

rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

so…we’re going to do this two different ways. here’s the self-promotion the challenge was asking for: my top five favorite fanworks I posted this year, no particular order.

On Monsters as Invasive Species: this meta essay was a response to a tumblr ask, but it was so goddamn long and at the time I did not want to post anything to tumblr, so I tidied it up for AO3, which also let me do real footnotes!! anyways it’s about monsters, invasive species, and extinction events, and i’m very pleased with how it came out. my thoughts on the topic were super knotty and I wasn’t even sure what conclusion I would end up coming to when I started trying to formulate my response to this question, so ironing all my drafts out into something coherent took some effort, but it was worth it. (& yeah i’ll still probably post the actual ask response here at some point.)

Medieval clothing studies, ft. Yennefer: just really pleased with the hatching on these! I’m trying to get more adventurous with my use of black in my inking, usually to mixed success, and I love how these ended up turning out. plus, the whole process of doing the studies was a lot of fun. also pretty proud of the matching Lambert set but that doesn’t exist on the internet lmao

The library catalogue at Kaer Morhen: extremely niche & self-indulgent oc content with some of the cuter baby geralts I’ve ever done? yes. i am still unsure if this qualifies as a “joke,” but it’s hilarious to me. plus, the number of people not in witcher fandom who said they reblogged it solely for the accurate depiction of libraries was very flattering.

baby eskeralt tackles: this was one of seventeen art prompts I did over the course of three days, which I feel was a pretty heroic drawing effort!! bit of a toss-up between this one and the eskeralt kiss for which one is my favorite, but this one turned out exactly like I wanted it to and I really love the movement and expression I achieved with it. (it just so happens the kiss is reversed in my notebooks: on paper, eskel’s on the right, and I was halfway through when I decided I wanted their scars visible and opted to flip the art in post rather than redo my entire sketch, so the baby witcher piece has a bit of an edge for actually looking the way it does in real life.)

rotfiend reproduction: this isn’t exactly meta so much as just a goofy headcanon post, but it’s a thing I created and fuck, I just love this headcanon a lot, okay, it’s so bonkers off-the-wall and yet also reasonably canon-based, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to top “rotfiend sex requires explosions.” legitimately my monster bio peaked early with this one

and for the second way: thinking about everything I created this year, I realized that while the challenge specifically asks for links, many of my favorites never made it onto the internet. so I’m just going to mention those briefly because they were my actual top five!

Sigurður Hjartarson (+ cover art)

the character design bible I did for Gill

City of Animal Electricity

The Obsidian Star

Open Hand or Closed Fist

if you made it all the way down here, thanks for reading. i have no idea which of my mutuals have or haven’t done this at this point so i’m just going to tag @she-who-drank-vodka-with-cats and @kerasines/@witcherrarepair and if anyone else would like to do it, feel free to say I tagged you, and may the new year be good to you 💛

#laurelnose.txt

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welllpthisishappening · 4 years ago

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Welllp These Are Books: the March 2021 Edition

There aren’t even any pictures! Except in that one book where there were pictures! It was weird! This was a weird book month! Back at it again with thoughts and opinions about a whole mess of books that no one explicitly asked for, but I’ve got lots of thoughts and opinions and they only count if I share them on the internet. Seriously, someone let me go to a baseball game soon. Obligatory warning for spoilers and vaguely unhinged rants under the cut. As always, feel free to come tell me what else I should be reading at literally any time ever.

Best Book of the Month Honors Goes to This Book, Even Though They Called It Halftime at a Hockey Game. A Hockey Game!

The Dating Plan by Sara Desai

Daisy Patel is a software engineer who understands lists and logic better than bosses and boyfriends. With her life all planned out, and no interest in love, the one thing she can't give her family is the marriage they expect. Left with few options, she asks her childhood crush to be her decoy fiancé. Liam Murphy is a venture capitalist with something to prove. When he learns that his inheritance is contingent on being married, he realizes his best friend's little sister has the perfect solution to his problem. A marriage of convenience will get Daisy's matchmaking relatives off her back and fulfill the terms of his late grandfather's will. If only he hadn’t broken her tender teenage heart nine years ago… Sparks fly when Daisy and Liam go on a series of dates to legitimize their fake relationship. Too late, they realize that very little is convenient about their arrangement. History and chemistry aren't about to follow the rules of this engagement.

— Ok, it’s important to know that I really did love this book. It hit all my trope-wants. Childhood friends, incredibly stupid misunderstandings, pining, seriously God the pining, fake engagement, BANTER. It was all going great. I was occasionally swooning. They kept making out! And then! THEN. They went to a hockey game. On a date. A fake date. Cool, cool, cool. All tropes, all the time right? Not so fast, internet! Because these self-proclaimed Sharks SUPER FANS referred to intermission as “halftime was coming up.” Halftime! At a hockey game! That’s—that’s not how hockey works! If this hadn’t been “traditionally” published, I probably could have let it slide. But that was not the case. This was a “real” book with, I can only assume, real editors. All of whom saw the words halftime and hockey near each other and we’re like YEAH, PRINT THAT SHIT. I read that at nearly one in the morning and seriously considered waking Justin up to be like CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS IS IN A REAL BOOK? Anyway, it was still real cute. Everyone lived happily ever after. It made want to eat samosas.

This Book Had Pictures, It Was Weird

Clean Sweep by Ilona Andrews

On the outside, Dina Demille is the epitome of normal. She runs a quaint Victorian Bed and Breakfast in a small Texas town, owns a Shih Tzu named Beast, and is a perfect neighbor, whose biggest problem should be what to serve her guests for breakfast. But Dina is...different: Her broom is a deadly weapon; her Inn is magic and thinks for itself. Meant to be a lodging for otherworldly visitors, the only permanent guest is a retired Galactic aristocrat who can’t leave the grounds because she’s responsible for the deaths of millions and someone might shoot her on sight. Under the circumstances, "normal" is a bit of a stretch for Dina.

And now, something with wicked claws and deepwater teeth has begun to hunt at night...Feeling responsible for her neighbors, Dina decides to get involved. Before long, she has to juggle dealing with the annoyingly attractive, ex-military, new neighbor, Sean Evans—an alpha-strain werewolf—and the equally arresting cosmic vampire soldier, Arland, while trying to keep her inn and its guests safe. But the enemy she’s facing is unlike anything she’s ever encountered before. It’s smart, vicious, and lethal, and putting herself between this creature and her neighbors might just cost her everything.

— So, Ilona Andrews is a name that keeps coming up because when I borrow a book from the library I have to go through Kindle and Amazon is like...here are some other absurd fantasy romances you’d enjoy. Also, one of her other series had been recc’ed to me. Only problem? The first book in that series is the only book in that series not available at my library. So, I was like, ok, I’ll start this one instead. It was...weird. Honestly, it felt like I’d been dropped in the middle of the story and the narrator was like, well why don’t you already know what’s going on? In theory the world building was cool. (I was not expecting alien werewolves, lemme tell you that!) But also it all felt very rushed and the end just sorta happened.

In Which I Continue to Love “Same Verse” Books & No One Else Had Sex in the Port Jeff High School Dugout. For Which I Was Grateful

Love Her or Lose Her by Tessa Bailey

Rosie and Dominic Vega are the perfect couple: high school sweethearts, best friends, madly in love. Well, they used to be anyway. Now Rosie’s lucky to get a caveman grunt from the ex-soldier every time she walks in the door. Dom is faithful and a great provider, but the man she fell in love with ten years ago is nowhere to be found. When her girlfriends encourage Rosie to demand more out of life and pursue her dream of opening a restaurant, she decides to demand more out of love, too. Three words: marriage boot camp.

Never in a million years did Rosie believe her stoic, too-manly-to-emote husband would actually agree to relationship rehab with a weed-smoking hippie. Dom talking about feelings? Sitting on pillows? Communing with nature? Learning love languages? Nope. But to her surprise, he’s all in, and it forces her to admit her own role in their cracked foundation. As they complete one ridiculous—yet surprisingly helpful—assignment after another, their remodeled relationship gets stronger than ever. Except just as they’re getting back on track, Rosie discovers Dom has a secret... and it could demolish everything.

— Listen, one of my absolutely favorite tropes that I do not think gets enough love in the world is COMMITTED LONG-LASTING RELATIONSHIPS. And, like, ok, sure the premise of this was that they were separating in that long-lasting relationship. But no one really believed that, did they? Rosie and Dominic were real cute and their banter was good and I wasn’t totally skeeved out when they literally fucked on the kitchen floor. So, I think that’s saying something. Also, also! I seriously appreciated the realism of this book because no one on Long Island would ever call Manhattan Manhattan. It’s the city. Every other borough gets a name, but Manhattan is just the city and I nearly cheered when they said that. But also, no one’s taking a cab from Port Jeff to the Meatpacking District. You know what that would cost? God.

Tools of Engagement by Tessa Bailey

Hair, makeup, clothing, decor... everything in Bethany Castle's world is organized, planned, and styled to perfection. Which is why the homes she designs for her family's real estate business are the most coveted in town. The only thing not perfect? Her track record with men. She's on a dating hiatus and after helping her friends achieve their dreams, Bethany finally has time to focus on her own: flip a house, from framework to furnishings, all by herself. Except her older brother runs the company and refuses to take her seriously.

When a television producer gets wind of the Castle sibling rivalry, they’re invited on Flip Off, a competition to see who can do the best renovation. Bethany wants bragging rights, but she needs a crew and the only member of her brother's construction team willing to jump ship is Wes Daniels, the new guy in town. His Texas drawl and handsome face got under Bethany's skin on day one, and the last thing she needs is some cocky young cowboy in her way.

As the race to renovate heats up, Wes and Bethany are forced into close quarters, trading barbs and biting banter as they remodel the ugliest house on the block. It's a labor of love, hate, and everything in between, and soon sparks are flying. But Bethany's perfectly structured life is one kiss away from going up in smoke and she knows falling for a guy like Wes would be a flipping disaster.

— It should first be noted that in the three books of this series, I could not and cannot understand why Bethany’s brother was such a monumental dick. He was just...he was a dick. His marriage was awful. How long was his wife pregnant without him knowing???? I digress. This continued to be cute, Bethany was a legit heroine as far as those rom-com things go, Wes was very Texas and that got a little over the top, but they had sex in a bed like normal people so that helped. Oh, except that one time on the construction site. Whatever, this book was cute. This whole series was cute, really, and I was a big fan of the happy little wrap-everything-up with a bow ending.

Romance That Happens In Point Two Seconds Is...Unbelievable

Too Hot to Handle by Tessa Bailey

The road trip was definitely a bad idea. Having already flambéed her culinary career beyond recognition, Rita Clarkson is now stranded in God-Knows-Where, New Mexico, with a busted-ass car and her three temperamental siblings, who she hasn't seen in years. When rescue shows up---six-feet-plus of hot, charming sex on a motorcycle---Rita's pretty certain she's gone from the frying pan right into the fire . . . Jasper Ellis has a bad boy reputation in this town, and he loathes it. The moment he sees Rita, though, Jasper knows he's about to be sorely tempted. There's something real between them. Something raw. And Jasper has only a few days to show Rita that he isn't just for tonight---he's forever.

— For as much as I loved the Port Jeff series by my new pal Tessa, this one was...oof. Too much, guys. Too much. Fucking in trucks. Fucking in back offices. The whole book lasted, like, three days. And keep in mind this is coming from someone who has written like two million words about Killian Jones, self-loathing champ 250 years running, but Jasper’s self-loathing was a little over the top. Like, let’s not objectify dudes, but also...I don’t know guys. Maybe the other books in the series are better? I was mostly just annoyed by Rita.

What the Hell Happened at the End of This Book?? Seriously, I Have No Idea

The Queen’s Assassin by Melissa de la Cruz

Caledon Holt is the kingdom's deadliest weapon. No one alive can best him in speed, strength, or brains, which is why he's the Hearthstone Guild's most dangerous member. Cal is also the Queen's Assassin, bound to her by magic and unable to leave her service until the task she's set for him is fulfilled. Shadow of the Honey Glade has been training all her life to join the Guild, hoping that one day she'll become an assassin as feared and revered as Cal. But Shadow's mother and aunts expect her to serve the crown as a lady of the Renovian Court. When a surprise attack brings Shadow and Cal together, they're forced to team up as assassin and apprentice. Even though Shadow's life belongs to the court and Cal's belongs to the queen, they cannot deny their attraction to each other. But now, with war on the horizon and true love at risk, Shadow and Cal will uncover a shocking web of lies that will change their paths forever.

—WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED AT THE END OF THIS BOOK??? I figured out the so-called twist like...two chapters in. Fine, ok, whatever. It’s YA, this is not rocket science and I was interested enough in Cale and Shadow to see how it all played out. Only it didn’t really play out! Because the whole end was just this like four chapter retcon of basically EVERYTHING ELSE THAT HAPPENED and I genuinely could not believe it was happening. It didn’t make sense?!? Like with the plot? Also, spoiler, good thing Shadow and the other king haven’t consummated their marriage yet since she and Cale totally fucked after her wedding? What is YA? Why is Amazon telling me this is a Teacher’s Pick? Why hasn’t my hold come through on the sequel yet so I know what happens next?

Low-Stakes Romance Was Real Boring and All The People Were Boring In It

The Ten Rules for Faking It by Sophie Sullivan

As birthdays go, this year’s for radio producer Everly Dean hit rock-bottom. Worse than the “tonsillectomy birthday.” Worse than the birthday her parents decided to split (the first time). But catching your boyfriend cheating on you with his assistant? Even clichés sting. But this is Everly’s year! She won’t let her anxiety hold her back. She’ll pitch her podcast idea to her boss. There’s just one problem. Her boss, Chris, is very cute. (Of course). Also, he's extremely distant (which means he hates her, right? Or is that the anxiety talking)? And, Stacey the DJ didn’t mute the mic during Everly’s rant about Simon the Snake (syn: Cheating Ex). That’s three problems. Suddenly, people are lining up to date her, Bachelorette-style, fans are voting (Reminder: never leave house again), and her interest in Chris might be a two-way street. It’s a lot for a woman who could gold medal in people-avoidance. She’s going to have to fake it ‘till she makes it to get through all of this. Perhaps she’ll make a list: The Ten Rules for Faking It.

— I am a broken record. Shouting. From the highest hilltop. Just because you think someone is cute when you’re technically not supposed to be dating them does not mean you get to be anything less than nice around them! It’s not cute! And part two, which often goes with part one: rom com dudes have GOT to stop lying or hiding or otherwise avoiding telling people who they really are. It’s a convoluted, passably lazy way of writing and dropping a third-act bomb on the story. Don’t do it. Stop doing it. We’ve moved past the need for hidden identities. Unless he’s, like, a spy or something. Um...this was a weird book. I know Everly had anxiety and that became a PLOT POINT, patent pending, but she was also not super relatable? Which is crazy considering my very real, rather undiagnosed anxiety. Chris was boring. The whole plot, as this title suggests, was very low stakes and no one actually seemed to remember that their jobs were ever on the line? Did Everly and Chris have a conversation before they decided they liked each other? Who can say, really.

Shipped by Angie Hockman

Between taking night classes for her MBA and her demanding day job at a cruise line, marketing manager Henley Evans barely has time for herself, let alone family, friends, or dating. But when she’s shortlisted for the promotion of her dreams, all her sacrifices finally seem worth it. The only problem? Graeme Crawford-Collins, the remote social media manager and the bane of her existence, is also up for the position. Although they’ve never met in person, their epic email battles are the stuff of office legend. Their boss tasks each of them with drafting a proposal on how to boost bookings in the Galápagos—best proposal wins the promotion. There’s just one catch: they have to go on a company cruise to the Galápagos Islands...together. But when the two meet on the ship, Henley is shocked to discover that the real Graeme is nothing like she imagined. As they explore the Islands together, she soon finds the line between loathing and liking thinner than a postcard. With her career dreams in her sights and a growing attraction to the competition, Henley begins questioning her life choices. Because what’s the point of working all the time if you never actually live?

— YOU NEED TO HAVE A CONVERSATION WITH SOMEONE TO DECIDE YOU LIKE THEM. AUTHORS REALLY REALLY NEED TO LEARN HOW TO BUILD ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS. IF THEY ONLY LIKE EACH OTHER BECAUSE THEY KISS WELL IT’S NOT A GOOD RELATIONSHIP. AND THIS IS COMING FROM ME. Back at it again with the annoying so-called heroine who was just...occasionally real mean to Graem for no reason at all? Also her name was Henley. Which is not a great reason to dislike her, but here we are.

Apparently I Read These Books Out Of Order. Who Knew?

Pride, Prejudice and Other Flavors by Sonali Dev

It is a truth universally acknowledged that only in an overachieving Indian American family can a genius daughter be considered a black sheep.

Dr. Trisha Raje is San Francisco’s most acclaimed neurosurgeon. But that’s not enough for the Rajes, her influential immigrant family who’s achieved power by making its own non-negotiable rules:

· Never trust an outsider

· Never do anything to jeopardize your brother’s political aspirations

· And never, ever, defy your family

Trisha is guilty of breaking all three rules. But now she has a chance to redeem herself. So long as she doesn’t repeat old mistakes.

Up-and-coming chef DJ Caine has known people like Trisha before, people who judge him by his rough beginnings and place pedigree above character. He needs the lucrative job the Rajes offer, but he values his pride too much to indulge Trisha’s arrogance. And then he discovers that she’s the only surgeon who can save his sister’s life.

As the two clash, their assumptions crumble like the spun sugar on one of DJ’s stunning desserts. But before a future can be savored there’s a past to be reckoned with...

A family trying to build home in a new land.

A man who has never felt at home anywhere.

And a choice to be made between the two.

— Surprise, apparently this was the first book in the series. I did not know. It didn’t affect my enjoyment of the Persuasion version in this same ‘verse, which is also strange because I liked the Persuasion one way better. There was a lot of medical in this. And not super uplifting medical, either. This was like...oh the Jane character (I guess???) has cancer and either she’s going to go blind after having a surgery (also she was an artist, so you see how this was a problem) or she’s just going to decide to die. Wait, what? That came out of left field, really. Also DJ and Trisha were not nice to each other. Like, I know this is Pride and Prejudice so there has to be some of that at the start, but it wasn’t like Trisha ever really went through the Darcy-required time at Pemberly. She just decided she liked DJ and told him and it was as awkward as Jane Austen intended it, but then we got more medical and everything was cool. It felt very rushed and shoehorned into a modern setting and the Persuasion one was better. You can’t have Darcy’s growth without the Pemberly stuff. You just can’t.

In Which I Didn’t Like a Nickname??? Is the World Ending??

Crazy Stupid Bromance by Lyssa Kay Adams

Alexis Carlisle and her cat café, ToeBeans, have shot to fame after she came forward as a victim of a celebrity chef’s sexual harassment. When a new customer approaches to confide in her, the last thing Alexis expects is for the woman to claim they’re sisters. Unsure what to do, Alexis turns to the only man she trusts—her best friend, Noah Logan. Computer genius Noah left his rebellious teenage hacker past behind to become a computer security expert. Now he only uses his old skills for the right cause. But Noah’s got a secret: He’s madly in love with Alexis. When she asks for his help, he wonders if the timing will ever be right to confess his crush. Noah’s pals in The Bromance Book Club are more than willing to share their beloved “manuals” to help him go from bud to boyfriend. But he must decide if telling the truth is worth risking the best friendship he’s ever had.

— If Noah was going to call her Lexa, then her name should have been Alexa and not Alexis. That’s it and that’s all. Also, the story was n u t s. Estranged dads and kidney failure and they got together so fast in this book. Which usually is cool by me, but I really could not get over the nickname and the estranged family was mean to Alexis. Lexa. HER NAME SHOULD HAVE BEEN ALEXA, IT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE. Also Noah was a former hacker? The estranged family accused him corporate espionage or something? A lot happened in this book, guys. Her name should have been Alexa.

Dumb Brother Was Dumb™ Everyone Else Was Real Cute

The Off Limits Rule by Sarah Adams

I have found rock bottom. It's here, moving in with my older brother because I'm too broke to afford to live on my own. It's okay though, because we've always been close and I think I'm going to have fun living with him again.   That is until I meet Cooper...   Turns out, my brother has very strong opinions on the idea of me dating his best friend and is dead set against it. According to him, Cooper is everything I should stay away from: flirtatious, adventurous, non-committal, and freaking hot. (I added that last part because I feel like you need the whole picture.) My brother is right--I should stay away from Cooper James and his pretty blue eyes. He's the opposite of what I need right now.   Nah--who am I kidding? I'm going for it.

— This was cute, mostly mindless fluff. Hit some trope high points, including, obviously, best friends sister. Only the brother in question was a Neanderthal and I really thought people were going to make out more while said brother was on his business trip. I got it for free off Amazon. Which I think should explain a lot. Like, story-wise. Sorry, free Amazon books. Don’t be insulted.

Prose, Prose, Prose, Please Someone Have a Conversation

Trick by Natalia Jaster

In the Kingdom of Spring, Poet is renowned. He's young and pretty, a lover of men and women. He performs for the court, kisses like a scoundrel, and mocks with a silver tongue. Yet allow him this: It's only the most cunning and manipulative soul who can play the fool. For beyond the castle walls, Poet guards a secret. One the Crown would shackle him for. One that he'll risk everything to protect. Alas, it will take more than clever words to deceive Princess Briar. Convinced that he's juggling lies as well as verse, this righteous nuisance of a girl is determined to expose him. But not all falsehoods are fiendish. Poet's secret is delicate, binding the jester and princess in an unlikely alliance—and kindling a breathless attraction, as alluring as it is forbidden.

— The purplest of prose. Mauve prose. Royal purple prose. Lavender prose. There was so much writing here. So much. Too much, some might say. I say. Actually. If we want to get specific. And that was a shame, really, because when Briar and Poet actually had a conversation, they were interesting to read about. Also, the world building here? Yeeeesh. The so-called, wait for it, FOOL TRADE played a prominent role and that was...super cringe. Super Cringe. That being said, I asked Justin what I should read next and he thought it was funny that a book was just called...

Dare by Natalia Jaster

In the Kingdom of Summer, they say she's wild. Locked in a cage by the sea, Flare dreams of escape. She dreams of a lost world, known only in legends. The island is calling to her. And she won't let anyone keep her from it. Especially not him. They say he's cruel. Jeryn has crossed the ocean for the Trade, to bargain for those fierce, imprisoned creatures that make his skin crawl. By law, they're subjects meant for experimentation. And easy to despise. One girl in particular. But on the cusp of transport, the tide rages. That hidden island awaits. Stranded, the prince and prisoner must fight to survive. In a mysterious rainforest, they must band together...if they don't slay one another first. Or become something more to each other. Something just as dangerous.

— This was Justin’s fault. He could not believe this book was just called Dare. It should have been called “We’re going to weirdly force what is basically slavery into this story and then a prince is going to fall in love with an escaped slave and we’re also going to call that ROMANCE.” y i k e s. Remember that one story that took place over three days? This was the complete opposite. Years! They were shipwrecked for years! They got saved, spoilers, the DAY they started having sex. What are the odds, right?? And then MORE YEARS passed. Multiple years! Five years! They couldn’t actually be together because of that aforementioned slave trade. What the shit, man? Natalia, ya gotta be kidding me with this. The internet claimed Trick was good and a solid follow to reading ACOTAR and that there was this whole verse and it was also good. The internet was wrong.

Nothing Happened, Everything Happened, I...Hated It

Graceling by Kristin Cashore

Kristin Cashore’s bestselling, award-winning fantasy Graceling tells the story of the vulnerable-yet-strong Katsa, a smart, beautiful teenager who lives in a world where selected people are given a Grace, a special talent that can be anything from dancing to swimming. Katsa’s is killing. As the king’s niece, she is forced to use her extreme skills as his thug. Along the way, Katsa must learn to decipher the true nature of her Grace… and how to put it to good use. A thrilling, action-packed fantasy adventure (and steamy romance!) that will resonate deeply with adolescents trying to find their way in the world.

— I can’t believe this was a book. Katsa was so annoying! Like, listen, I know her life was sad. And she was a pawn being used against her will. Blah, blah, blah. Whatever. The tone of the whole book was so strangely formal and Poe was strangely in love with Katsa? Who obviously didn’t want to get married because she was WOMAN HEAR ME ROAR. Or kill people, as the case may be. Only she wanted to make out with Poe? Only ONLY they didn’t even really get together at the end? I could not believe the end of this book. I nearly threw my Kindle across the room. Once again, no apologies for spoilers because do not read this book, but HE WAS BLIND? Katsa had to leave him behind to save his cousin and he just ENDED UP BEING BLIND? AND THEY NEVER GOT TOGETHER REALLY?? What the fuck? Seriously. Steamy romance, my ass. Nothing happened. The villain got defeated in point two seconds. There are other books in this universe? No, thanks.

#book recommendations #book rec #fantasy recommendations #book recs #laura reads books #this was longer than i realized it was going to be #documentation of a very weird book month #but we're almost back on track now because i am LOVING a darker shade of magic #welllp these are books

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twoidiotwriters1 · 4 years ago

Text

Written In The Stars CXXVIII (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: From chapter 25 to 36 I just love everything -Danny

Words: 5,260

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘Payphone’ -by Maroon 5

Chapter Twenty-Six: Delusions of Power.

Mel spent the next days in constant anxiety.

She even stopped her mischief out of fear of how the interview could backfire, it was keeping her awake at night.

At the end of a particularly rough quidditch practice Ron, Ginny and her were walking back to the castle in a very grim mood, but they still were curious about what exactly had Mel added to Harry's story.

"Well, you know," Their friend replied as she undid her braid. "Talked about Barty Jr. and how his father brought him from Azkaban — and that he fired Winky, which was a complete lack of respect for the honourable work of House-elves (Hermione was very pleased with that part), I talked about the corruption in the Ministry, that Fudge made it very clear that the main reason why he didn't want to act was because of the money he was getting from pureblood families involved... I reckon I'll never get a job in the Ministry after this."

"I hope this works out," Ginny said. "Maybe the Order we'll get more help once people read the article, your version makes much more sense than whatever Fudge wants to sell to the public."

They walked into the Great Hall leaving mud stains on their path, Hermione and Harry were having dinner already, and they seemed to be arguing.

"Is that what she was doing?" Harry was asking. "Well, wouldn't it have been easier if she'd just asked me whether I liked her better than you?"

"Girls don't often ask questions like that," Hermione responded.

"Well, they should! Then I could've just told her I fancy her, and she wouldn't have had to get herself all worked up again about Cedric dying!"

"You're still talking about that?" Mel frowned. "Listen, I agree with you about Cho exaggerating a bit, but to be fair you're slow at picking up hints."

"You're one to talk," Harry retorted.

"I'm not saying what she did was sensible," said Hermione, throwing a nervous glance at them and interrupting before things got awkward. "I'm just trying to make you see how she was feeling at the time."

"You should write a book," Ron said, "translating mad things girls do so boys can understand them."

"Yeah!" said Harry.

"Girls are humans just like you," Mel scowled. "There are no 'rules' — Just try to get to know the girl for a change instead of just looking for a quick snog."

Harry looked back at the Ravenclaw table wistfully, Cho was leaving it with her friend Marietta, and she didn't glance his way before walking out.

"So, how was Quidditch practice?" He sighed, turning his attention back to his friends.

"It was a nightmare," said Ron.

"Oh come on," Hermione tried, "I'm sure it wasn't that —"

"Yes, it was," Ginny pouted. "It was appalling. Angelina was nearly in tears by the end of it."

Mel let out a long sigh and pushed her hair out of the way, it was starting to get a bit impossible to handle at this point and it was always messy, she really needed to get rid of half of it.

"Can't say I'm doing marvellous work as a beater if I'm honest. I'm not as strong as Angelina would like..."

By the time Mel was going to play her first game ever the atmosphere was extremely dense. Her Hufflepuff friends wished her luck in a way that let her know they already felt like the winners. She couldn't blame them, Ron was looking greener and greener with every step he took towards the dressing room.

Mel was about to enter when Fred caught up and kissed her. She couldn't even react properly.

"For good luck!" He smirked. "Isn't that the tradition?"

Mel was flustered, she ushered him away and stood there in shock, hearing as he laughed about her reaction with George. Someone cleared his throat behind her, it was Harry.

"When did you get here?" She asked in dread.

"Just a moment," Harry said, a faint blush on his cheeks. "But I saw you were... er... having a moment. I figured it was better if I just waited until Fred was gone."

"Okay," Mel said clumsily, pushing her hair back.

"I wanted to wish you good luck," He said. "It's your first game... when it was my game you were there so... it's my turn, isn't it?"

"You don't have to," Mel said, panicking about Harry kissing her cheek after such a long time without physical contact. She no longer knew what boundaries existed between them.

"It's the least I can do," Harry hesitated before awkwardly stepping forward, holding out his hand so she could shake it.

Mel grabbed it and shook it firmly.

"Good luck."

"Thanks," She smiled.

Once inside and dressed in the uniform, Mel stared at her reflection in awe.

"I'm wearing a Quidditch uniform," She told Ginny. "And I look so good..."

"Yeah, yeah, you're pretty," Ginny rolled her eyes grinning. "Let's go, before your big-head stops you from looking away..."

The good part? Ginny caught the snitch.

They still lost.

She'd threw a bludger directly to a chaser and caused him to drop the quaffle, but Slope was dreadful, he kept missing every time. Ron was beyond miserable when the game was over, now not only the Slytherins were singing, but also the Hufflepuffs.

Back in the common room, once she had taken a bath, she walked in and listened to Harry and Ginny's conversation as she sat down tiredly next to them, hanging her legs over the armrest and leaning on Ginny's shoulder.

"I was lucky," The girl was saying. "It wasn't a very fast snitch and Summerby's got a cold, he sneezed and closed his eyes at exactly the wrong moment. Anyway, once you're back on the team —"

"Ginny, I've got a lifelong ban."

"You're banned as long as Umbridge is in the school. There's a difference. Anyway, once you're back, I think I'll try out for Chaser. Angelina and Alicia are both leaving next year and I prefer goal-scoring to seeking anyway."

Mel sighed, rubbing her temples.

"You were right about how cathartic it is to be a Beater, but I think I'm not good enough for the position. Maybe chaser— or even seeker, if Harry insists on staying on the bench —"

"It's not like I want to stay there, you know?"

"If you say so," The girl yawned.

"Angelina still won't let him resign," Ginny added, making a vague head movement towards her brother. "She says she knows he's got it in him."

"Because he does," Mel rolled her eyes. "That idiot... if I could take away his insecurities by knocking his lights out with a bludger, I'd do it."

The next morning during breakfast was the moment when the bomb dropped. Two editions of the Quibbler arrived –one for Mel and one for Harry– inside they had their interviews. Not only that, but at least ten owls landed around the table, all with letters directed to them.

"It's good, isn't it?" Luna sat down between Fred and Ron. "It came out yesterday, I asked Dad to send you a free copy. I expect all these are letters from readers."

"That's what I thought," said Hermione. "Guys, d'you mind if we — ?"

"Help yourself," said Harry.

"I'm too scared to touch any of those," Mel said hesitantly. "Don't want anything on my face..."

"This one's from a bloke who thinks you're off your rocker, Harry," said Ron. "Says Mel is probably hormonal — gross lad, honestly. Ah well..."

"This woman recommends you try a good course of Shock Spells at St. Mungo's," said Hermione.

"This one looks okay, though," said Harry, he was reading through the mail now as well. "Hey, she says she believes us!"

"This one's in two minds," said Fred who had taken the liberty to open the one's directed at Mel. "Says you don't come across as mad people, but he really doesn't want to believe You-Know-Who's back so he doesn't know what to think now... Blimey, what a waste of parchment. I would believe you in a second, Lady."

"Thank you Fred, but I'm afraid you're biased," Mel grinned, deciding to start opening letters too.

"Here's another one you've convinced!" said Hermione happily. "'Having read your side of the story I am forced to the conclusion that the Daily Prophet has treated you very unfairly... Little though I want to think that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned, I am forced to accept that you are telling the truth... and Miss Dumbledore's claims seemed to be legitimate, I had a friend who got in trouble with the Ministry and they forgave him in no time after he let go of a few galleons...' Oh, this is wonderful!"

"Another one who thinks you're barking," said Ron, throwing the letter without paying attention, "but this one says you've got her converted, and she now thinks you're a real hero — she's put in a photograph too — wow —"

"At this rate, you won't have to worry about any future dates with Cho," Mel teased.

"What is going on here?" Umbridge asked over their heads. "Why have you got all these letters, Mr Potter, Miss Dumbledore?"

"Is that a crime now? Getting mail?" Fred frowned.

"Be careful, Mr Weasley, or I shall have to put you in detention. Well, Mr Potter?"

Harry pondered his options quietly but shared one resolute look with Mel and knew there was no point. She would find out eventually.

"People have written to us because we gave an interview," said Harry. "About what happened to me last June."

"And about how much of a fraud Fudge is," Mel concluded.

"An interview? What do you mean?" Umbridge asked.

"I mean a reporter asked us questions and we answered them," said Harry. "Here —"

He threw his copy at Umbridge and Mel got a pleasant tug at the base of her stomach at the sight. It quickly faded as she watched the woman read carefully all they'd said.

"When did you do this?" She breathed.

"Last Hogsmeade weekend," said Harry.

"There will be no more Hogsmeade trips for you two."

"How would've guessed?" Mel replied carelessly.

"How you dare... how you could... I have tried again and again to teach you not to tell lies. The message, apparently, has still not sunk in. Miss Dumbledore, hadn't I told you to learn where your place is? You have no right to speak like that about your Minister!"

Mel thought that if she was already in trouble, she was going to earn it fully.

"I thought you'd understand, isn't blood status your biggest priority? That's why you're giving Hagrid such a hard time, right? I'm just following your lead," She glanced at the teachers' table, where Dumbledore was talking to Flitwick without paying attention to them, although she had the feeling he was just pretending. "I'll always be loyal to my people."

"Fifty points from Gryffindor and another week's worth of detentions!" Umbridge spat, barely able to control her anger.

"It'll be my pleasure!" Mel shouted, watching the woman stomp away from the Great Hall.

Hermione and Mel smiled at each other at the sight of the decree.

— by order of —

The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts

Any student found in possession of the magazine The Quibbler will be expelled.

The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-seven.

Signed:

High inquisitor.

"What exactly are you so happy about?" Harry asked them.

"Oh Harry, don't you remember what Mel said? If she could have done one thing to make absolutely sure that every single person in this school will read your interview, it was banning it!"

If Mel was popular before, now she was almost idolized. The only student at school that had stood up against Umbridge apart from Harry. Of course, there were people like Malfoy, and kids that were related to the death eaters that were definitely not happy about it, but little did they know that Daphne and Erick had her back. Not only that, but several Slytherins were starting to realize some things, as Mel would find out in her next D.A. meeting.

The students weren't the only ones making quiet declarations, Professor Sprout rewarded Harry with twenty points when he'd done nothing but to pass her an empty watering can. Flitwick discretely gave them two boxes of squeaking sugar mice during his class and ran away almost as fast as he'd approached.

Trelawney openly wept and claimed that Harry was not going to suffer an early death after all, but he and Mel would live to a ripe old age, become Minister of Magic and have twelve children. Since she didn't specify which part was for each, Mel blushed deeply at the mention of babies.

Even Cho forgave Harry for his silly mistake on Valentine's day, and she was telling to anyone who was interested that they had shared a lovely date the day he'd done the interview, and that she was very proud of him.

Fred was another person who was taking great pleasure in strutting around the castle with Mel by his side. Students would look at him with sneers and faces of contempt, and although Mel didn't appreciate being treated like a prize, she was definitely enjoying the way Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Nott would glare at her from across the hall without being able to touch her.

Seamus approached her and Harry before their Transfiguration class.

"I just wanted to say," He said, avoiding their eyes, "I believe you. And I've sent a copy of that magazine to me mam."

Mel was so pleased that she hugged him, Seamus didn't know how to respond. That night a party took place in the common room, she hadn't seen her friends this happy for a very long time, and she was proud to be part of it.

"What you did was foolish and impulsive”

"I'm aware."

"I thought we'd agreed on keeping a low profile this year," Dumbledore stared down at her over his glasses.

"We agreed on keeping my lessons a secret. There's nothing in that interview about my lessons with you, Professor. However, we never said I couldn't talk about Fudge."

They were outside the main entrance of the castle, Dumbledore had asked her for a private word as she walked past the entrance after finishing diner. Neither Harry nor Umbridge were near, which could be part of the reason why Dumbledore had asked her now. She didn't know what he'd been doing outside at this hour, but she was more worried about the lecture she was about to get.

"This is not the time to take things lightly," Dumbledore said gravely. "You know you're one of Voldemort's targets, he wants to use you to his advantage and now you've turned into a person of interest for the Ministry as well."

"I already was," Mel replied. "I merely talked about Fudge, I kept you out of the conversation! They might accuse me of slander, but then again they're probably too afraid of you to try it."

"And you're planning to live under my shadow?" Dumbledore asked.

Mel's annoyance increased.

"Of course not! I've improved lots this year, I daresay I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself —"

"You have to grow up first before making such decisions," Dumbledore replied in a hard tone that took her off guard. "That kind of behaviour is what kept Aberforth from turning into his best self. You mustn't follow his lead. Matthew would've wanted you to be better."

"Give me a break, won't you? I'm fifteen — I want to have fun, I hate that I have to act like an adult when all my friends are allowed to fool around and —"

"You've been given enough freedom," The man replied. "Haven't I turned a blind eye to your acts of so-called justice? It wasn't wise of me, but I allowed it. Why?"

"Because you hate Umbridge as much as everyone else?"

"Because you wish to be something else than just a Lastname. What you haven't realized is that you already are Mel, but what you're representing right now is no better than what you used to be. You're repeating history and that won't help you."

Mel was about to reply when a woman's scream reached them. They both turned to the oak doors, hearing attentively. Two trunks came down flying and landed roughly at the foot of the marble staircase, Umbridge walked down in tiny cheerful steps, Trelawney stumbled down holding a bottle of sherry. She was looking around frantically.

"NO!" She yelled, and the students inside the Great Hall walked out to see the scene. "NO! NO! This cannot be happening... It cannot... I refuse to accept it!"

"You didn't realize this was coming? Incapable though you are of predicting even tomorrow's weather, you must surely have realized that your pitiful performance during my inspections, and lack of any improvement, would make it inevitable you would be sacked?" Umbridge asked cruelly.

"You c-can't! You c-can't sack me! I've b-been here sixteen years! H-Hogwarts is m-my h-home!"

"It was your home, until an hour ago, when the Minister of Magic countersigned the order for your dismissal. Now kindly remove yourself from this hall. You are embarrassing us."

Surprisingly, McGonagall stepped forward and hugged the woman protectively.

"There, there, Sibyll... Calm down... Blow your nose on this... It's not as bad as you think, now... You are not going to have to leave Hogwarts..."

"Oh really, Professor McGonagall?" Umbridge sneered. "And your authority for that statement is..?"

Dumbledore opened the door completely, his figure stepping into the scene.

"That would be mine," He said.

Mel followed him, but she stayed behind as he reached the place where Trelawney was.

"Yours, Professor Dumbledore? I'm afraid you do not understand the position. I have here an Order of Dismissal signed by myself and the Minister of Magic. Under the terms of Educational Decree Number Twenty-three, the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts has the power to inspect, place upon probation, and sack any teacher she — that is to say, I — feel is not performing up to the standard required by the Ministry of Magic. I have decided that Professor Trelawney is not up to scratch. I have dismissed her."

"You are quite right, of course, Professor Umbridge. As High Inquisitor you have every right to dismiss my teachers," He smiled the same way she would do whenever she could get away with something. Her father's smile. "You do not, however, have the authority to send them away from the castle. I am afraid that the power to do that still resides with the headmaster, and it is my wish that Professor Trelawney continues to live at Hogwarts."

"No — no, I'll g-go, Dumbledore! I sh-shall l-leave Hogwarts and s-seek my fortune elsewhere —"

"No. It is my wish that you remain, Sibyll," He turned to McGonagall. "Might I ask you to escort Sibyll back upstairs, Professor McGonagall?"

"Of course. Up you get, Sibyll..."

Professor Sprout hurried to help Trelawney by holding her other arm and Professor Flitwick held out his wand and exclaimed "Locomotor trunks!" the objects floated in the air and followed the group of teachers.

"And what," Umbridge continued, so angry she could barely speak, "are you going to do with her once I appoint a new Divination teacher who needs her lodgings?"

"Oh, that won't be a problem," said Dumbledore. "You see, I have already found us a new Divination teacher, and he will prefer lodgings on the ground floor."

"You've found — ? You've found? Might I remind you, Dumbledore, that under Educational Decree Twenty-two —"

"— the Ministry has the right to appoint a suitable candidate if — and only if — the headmaster is unable to find one. And I am happy to say that on this occasion I have succeeded. May I introduce you?"

On queue, there was a sound like hooves behind her and she turned at the same time that the rest. The sight almost made her doubt her sanity, but it wasn't an illusion. There, standing in the entrance was a centaur.

"This is Firenze— I think you'll find him suitable." Dumbledore beamed.

When the crowd erupted into loud exclamations of shock, the old man spoke in a lower voice.

"It's not about breaking the rules for the sake of provoking," He told her. "Is memorizing your way around them, so you can use them in your favour."

The sentence 'I must not tell lies' was throbbing on the back of her hand. Hermione was already waiting for her with a jar of murtlap which she and Harry took turns to use. She knew Harry had felt the first day of her detention because he quickly approached to examine her injuries, although she rejected his help.

"Now you know how it feels," She said calmly. "Now you understand why I couldn't just ignore you, right?"

Harry looked uncomfortable, yet he had no choice but to admit she was right.

Daphne Greengrass was one of the first students to arrive on the day of the D.A. meeting, but she wasn't alone. A total of eight Slytherins had accompanied her and though they looked tense, they wanted to know what Umbridge was hiding, they wanted to learn. Once again, the group welcomed them with open arms.

"You know," Ron told her while he took a break from being Hermione's partner. "I reckon you may be right, maybe not all Slytherins are evil."

"Took you long enough," Mel patted his back lovingly. "Now be a good boy and practice with one of them."

"What?!"

"Are you afraid of snakes, Ronnie?" She raised a brow.

"Of course not!" He said, his ears gaining a reddish colour. "Hey — Hey, you! What's your name?"

He walked up to a fourth-year Slytherin so they could practice together, Mel's chest swelled with pride. It was Harry's turn to walk up to her.

"Okay, you win," He sighed, looking rather impressed. "We haven't got any fights — I guess we can all be friends."

"Can you write that down and sign it?" Mel smirked.

"Nah," He walked away with a smile.

Their first divination class with Firenze proved to be highly interesting. When Mel walked in she felt slightly disoriented, like she had walked out of the castle without really wanting to.

The classroom floor had become springily mossy and trees were growing out of it; their leafy branches fanned across the ceiling and windows, so that the room was full of slanting shafts of soft, dappled, green light.

The students who had already arrived were sitting on the earthy floor with their backs resting against tree trunks or boulders, arms wrapped around their knees or folded tightly across their chests, looking rather nervous. In the middle of the room, where there were no trees, stood Firenze.

"Harry Potter," Firenze walked up to them and shook hands with Harry.

"Er — hi– Er — good to see you..." The boy replied awkwardly.

"And you," said the centaur, inclining his white-blond head. "It was foretold that we would meet again. Miss Dumbledore, you continue to grow into your power, I see."

"Er..." Mel accepted Firenze's hand and shook it, trying not to stare at the bruise on the centaur's chest. "I... I suppose?"

She remembered the night Firenze had saved them from Quirrel, he'd said something about her 'vibrating', she knew enough about herself now to guess he meant her magical skills were quite good.

"Professor Dumbledore has kindly arranged this classroom for us," Firenze said once the students had taken a place on the ground, "in imitation of my natural habitat. I would have preferred to teach you in the Forbidden Forest, which was — until Monday — my home... but this is not possible."

"Please — er — sir —" Parvati had raised her hand, "why not? We've been in there with Hagrid, we're not frightened!"

"It is not a question of your bravery but of my position. I can no longer return to the forest. My herd has banished me."

"Herd?" asked Lavender. "What — oh! There are more of you?"

"Did Hagrid breed you, like the thestrals?" asked Dean.

Mel cringed at the question, Dean immediately realized his mistake, but it was too late.

"I didn't — I meant — sorry..."

"Centaurs are not the servants or playthings of humans," said Firenze calmly.

"Please, sir... why have the other centaurs banished you?" Parvati insisted.

"Because I have agreed to work for Professor Dumbledore. They see this as a betrayal of our kind."

Harry and Mel shifted awkwardly in their places, they could still remember the way the other centaurs had treated Firenze after helping Harry and her to leave the forest.

"Let us begin..."

[Firenze] swished his long palomino tail, raised his hand toward the leafy canopy overhead then lowered it slowly, and as he did so, the light in the room dimmed, so that they now seemed to be sitting in a forest clearing by twilight, and stars emerged upon the ceiling. There were oohs and gasps, and Ron said audibly, "Blimey!"

"Lie back upon the floor," said Firenze in his calm voice, "and observe the heavens. Here is written, for those who can see, the fortune of our races."

Mel laid down between Ron and Harry, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. The centaur's words resonated on her mind. 'Here is written, for those who can see...'

Erick's words also came to her mind.

'Knowing what's written in the stars won't help you.'

Maybe it would have. Maybe she could've skipped her whole thing with Harry and she'd be dating someone else for real, happy to have everything she wanted in life, including her best friend.

A thought crept inside her. If she would've known everything, more importantly, if she knew what's waiting for her in the future, if she still had a chance with Harry... No, she needed to get rid of those thoughts as soon as possible, they weren't even that close. Worse yet, he was dating Cho!

All those novels she'd read for years had messed up her mind, she needed to get a grip on reality. They were over for good, she was sure someone out there was her second chance, and she just had to look around.

"I know that you have learned the names of the planets and their moons in Astronomy," Firenze's voice brought her back abruptly, "and that you have mapped the stars' progress through the heavens. Centaurs have unravelled the mysteries of these movements over centuries. Our findings teach us that the future may be glimpsed in the sky above us..."

"Professor Trelawney did Astrology with us!" said Parvati excitedly. "Mars causes accidents and burns and things like that, and when it makes an angle to Saturn, like now, that means that people need to be extra careful when handling hot things —"

"That is human nonsense."

Ron snorted beside her, Mel had to kick his foot to shut him up.

"Trivial hurts, tiny human accidents... These are of no more significance than the scurryings of ants to the wide universe, and are unaffected by planetary movements."

"Professor Trelawney —"

"— is a human," Firenze replied without getting upset. "And is therefore blinkered and fettered by the limitations of your kind."

If Mel was honest, knowing there were things that humans simply couldn't comprehend was comforting. She could be smart, but at the end of the day, she was still human and had her limits. After a whole year of feeling out of control, the idea was a glorious revelation.

"Sibyll Trelawney may have Seen, I do not know... but she wastes her time, in the main, on the self-flattering nonsense humans call fortune-telling. I, however, am here to explain the wisdom of centaurs, which is impersonal and impartial. We watch the skies for the great tides of evil or change that are sometimes marked there. It may take ten years to be sure of what we are seeing."

Their Professor pointed to a little red dot that was right above them.

"In the past decade, the indications have been that Wizard-kind is living through nothing more than a brief calm between two wars. Mars, bringer of battle, shines brightly above us, suggesting that the fight must break out again soon. How soon, centaurs may attempt to divine by the burning of certain herbs and leaves, by the observation of fume and flame..."

If that was really true –and she figured centaurs could be trusted to an extent– then she would live long enough to see the next war. Her hands closed in tight fists, trying to control the way they were starting to fidget.

Firenze asked them to look for shapes in the smoke of a fire, but it didn't feel like he was actually expecting them to see things. On the contrary, it was more like he was just babysitting a bunch of children he didn't find particularly clever.

Either way, he also mentioned how this technique was sometimes useless for centaurs since they could interpret the signals wrong, so in conclusion, no one should ever fully trust their own minds. Mel got the feeling that he wasn't trying to teach divination, more like rational and individual thinking. Which, in Mel's opinion, was more valuable than any kind of fortune-telling.

"He's not very definite on anything, is he? I mean, I could do with a few more details about this war we're about to have, couldn't you?" Ron whispered.

Mel didn't want to know more. Actually, she'd been comfortable in her ignorance, and she was happy being the popular, nice girl from school. Still, she knew she had responsibilities to attend. Responsibilities that she would have to pay attention to eventually, even if she didn't feel like it. A war she had to fight.

It wasn't just her and her mother now, it was the baby, Sirius and her uncle Lupin. It was the Weasleys, the Dumbledores, the Longbottoms, Hermione, Erick, Daphne, their classmates, and of course, Harry.

The bell rang and Mel gave a start. Her breathing was erratic, her hands were sweating. She got up hastily and picked up her things in a hurry, but before she could leave, Firenze called her and Harry to stay for a second longer. Ron stood there, unsure of whether he should leave. Firenze noticed this and allowed him to stay, only asking him to close the door.

"You are friends of Hagrid's, are you not?" Their Professor asked them.

"Yes," said Harry.

"Then give him a warning from me. His attempt is not working. He would do better to abandon it."

"His attempt is not working?" Harry frowned.

"And he would do better to abandon it," Firenze nodded. "I would warn Hagrid myself, but I am banished — it would be unwise for me to go too near the forest now — Hagrid has troubles enough, without a centaurs' battle."

"But — what's Hagrid attempting to do?"

"Hagrid has recently rendered me a great service," said Firenze after a moment of contemplative silence. "And he has long since earned my respect for the care he shows all living creatures. I shall not betray his secret. But he must be brought to his senses. The attempt is not working. Tell him. Good day to you."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @dielgonacoffee

#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #WITT fic

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powerwordsleep · 5 years ago

Text

Sasuke Retsuden (Unofficial English Translation)

I’ve decided to do my own take on translating Sasuke Retsuden. It’s a long novel and difficult, so this will be a slow work in progress. As such I will be posting chapter by chapter updates here until the whole novel is finished and I can compile it in one document.

DISCLAIMER: This is not an official translation and was not made for profit or distribution. This translation was fan-made and done for purely enjoyment and translation practice purposes. I do not own the rights to NARUTO or any of the related materials.

Authors: Kishimoto Masashi and Esaka Jun Binding: Takahashi Kenji (Tera Engine) Editing Cooperation: Soeda Yohei (Tsubame Productions) Publishing Office: Shueisha Co. 101-8050 Tokyo, Chiyoda, Hitotsubashi 2-5-10 Printing Office: Kyodo Printing Co. Ltd. ©2019 M. Kishimoto/J. Esaka

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST THIS ANYWHERE ELSE. THIS IS MY WORK, THANK YOU VERY MUCH.

Character Introduction

Uchiha Sasuke: The master of the kekkei-genkai, the Sharingan. Member of Team 7 and husband of Sakura.

Uchiha Sakura: Master of medical ninjutsu. Member of Team 7 and wife of Sasuke.

Zansur: Director of the Astronomy Research Institute. Has apparently accepted an important mission from the minister of the country Redaku.

Menō: A giant lizard prison guard who monitors the Astronomy Research Institute.

Jiji: A prisoner who shares a room with Sasuke and is doing manual labor for the Astronomy Research Institute.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Prologue

He can’t sleep. The man pressed his thin body to the chilly sheets. Inside the room his breath is white, and no matter how much he wraps the comforter that doesn’t fully cover him around his body, the shaking and shivering of his chest can’t be stopped.

He’s sleeping in sweat and dirt stained thin bedding. Soon it will be a half-moon. Every time he sleeps the bruises all over his body increase, so he never can feel rested. If he could sleep a little in an area with no draft, it would be enough.

With feelings of bitterness the man opened his heavy eyelids and strained his eyes, surveying the dark room. Six adults sleep huddled in a small corner of the six-mat tatami room. In this place it’s natural for a newcomer such as himself to be allotted the coldest part of the room, with no room for objections or arguments. He shifted on the hard floor and let out a pained moan.

“Damn it. Why is this happening to me…”

Before the half-moon, the man had been in a prison in the capital of Redaku. Even though there had been no freedom, minimum standards of living had been guaranteed, and it was safer and more comfortable than here. He had even thought about going back to commit another suitable crime when his sentence finished. However, one day it was suddenly decided that he was to be transferred. He was only told that he would be engaged in public works in the cold regions. Because it was physically demanding labor, only young and healthy prisoners would be allowed to do it. He was brought to an astronomy observation facility made of stone, built on the peak of a desolate mountain range.

The Tartar Astronomy Research Institute.

It is said to be a research institute with an ancient and honorable origin derived from Janmarū Tartar—an astronomist of folklore legend who lived at the same time as the Rokudō Sennin. But he didn’t care about that. The issue was that this place was below freezing even in early springtime. And no matter how he thought about it, with the provided food, clothes, room and having to dig up cold dirt from morning to night without rest, it was an environment where livestock were treated better.

“Why… is this happening to me?”

He clenched his trembling teeth and squeezed the edge of the futon. Day after day of work, the skin of his palm peeled off and his nails became soiled with dirt.

His crime was robbery and murder. Three years ago, on a winter’s day he had been having trouble finding something to eat. He broke into a house that caught his eye and stole everything of value. He left the young husband, wife, and two children bound in ropes and ran. Two days passed without anyone noticing them and they all froze to death. Since that’s how the four of them were killed he doesn’t count it as murder. He had no intention to kill; it was an accident. Generally, when he had no food to eat he stole from other houses. Was that not a case of legitimate self-defense?

Why did I have to encounter those eyes?

Frustration swam like water in his chest. He was at his limit. The man decided while staring at the grooves in the ceiling—when dawn breaks, he’ll break out of prison.

*************

The prisoners’ lives are managed by the sound of a gong.

When the muffled clang signaling waking time reverberates throughout, the prisoners rise from bed like zombies and begin their day. They are always on time, because if they oversleep the patrolling guards offer no mercy when they catch them and force them to eat their batons. He wiped away the sleep from his eyes, and exited the room while yawning and scratching his rash covered arms.

Meals are served twice a day. The menu consisted only of messily stir-fried vegetables and wheat, and pork that looked suspicious to eat. The man lined up in the queue stretching out of the cafeteria and took a deep breath to quell his tumultuous feelings. Contrary to the heaviness and drowsiness lingering on his body, his nerves were clear and excited. Even as a man who walks in steps on his foot and another behind him spits phlegm out close to his ear, he doesn’t care.

Today he'll leave here. He’s going to break out of prison.

After securing his breakfast, the man looked around the room full of prisoners. If he’s going to escape, there’s someone he wants to invite. The shabby room was only a cafeteria in name, with rattling tables and chairs made from cut logs lined up. The man with the eyes was sitting in his usual seat by the window.

Inmate number 487. Sasuke.

What is rare is his appearance rather than his name. Pure black hair and eyes. His face is finely chiseled and thin. The beauty of his nose stands out nicely on his profile, his features lined up perfectly on his face. No matter the angle, he looks like a painting come to life. If you looked at him up close you’d start to question whether you’re even of the same species.

The fact that while he was born with such an appearance he was silent, unfriendly, and always cold and blunt like a cat, attracted attention from his surroundings. Despite that, because he was so strong that no one could raise a hand against him, he was a nuisance. On the day Sasuke arrived, a group of longtime prisoners immediately went to mess with the curious newcomer, and in a second their joints were severed and they were groveling on the ground. Looking down on the men crying in pain, the warning that came from Sasuke’s mouth was simple.

“Don’t get in my way.”

For most of the prisoners Sasuke was someone hard to get close to. It was the same for this man too, of course, but it was strange to think that when he escaped today he would be able to speak his mind like normal.

The man seated himself in front of Sasuke and opened his mouth.

“U-um,” Although his voice had been strong and burning with a fighting spirit when he imagined this, in reality it came out trembling and weak as he spoke.

“U-uh, you’re also… a-a shinobi, yeah?”

Sasuke moved his gaze from outside the window to the man facing him.

“What do you want?”

“I-I’m also a shinobi. I’m from the Land of Wind. I never graduated from the academy and was abandoned by my parents… and I eventually ended up in this country. I can still control my chakra. Watch!”

Using chakra, he attached the tip of a chopstick to his finger and shook it around for him to see. When he looked determinedly back at Sasuke, he had already lost interest and his black eyes had returned to gazing out the window.

He’s ignoring me?

Sticking out his tongue, the man glared at Sasuke.

If he got imprisoned in such a backwater country then he’s probably not that great of a shinobi either.

Sasuke was staring intently out the window while using his chopsticks in beautiful form, dexterously eating bamboo shoots and strawberries that had been arranged together in triangles on a crushed iron plate. He was an unfriendly man, but unknowingly to him his behavior was revealing his growing kindness, little by little. Among the human trash that made up the prisoners, Sasuke was clearly different.

He waited for Sasuke to finish his meal and then broached the subject. “W-will you join me?” He was nervous and stammered out his words.

“What do you mean?”

“Escape. I-I’m going to run away from here. Y-you can also use chakra, right? Um, w-we can climb the wall and run away.”

The Astronomy Research Institute was surrounded on all four sides by a wall made of stone about ten meters high. Looking at it from below it seemed tall, but with chakra it was climbable.

“I’ve a-already had enough. Y-you have too, right?”

Sasuke stared at the man, expressionless.

“What do you know about me?”

“I know that you are not a normal person, at least.” Finally, he was able to speak until the end without stuttering.

How on earth a man like Sasuke ended up in a place like this he could not figure out. Still, he didn’t think he was satisfied with the dull day-to-day manual labor of this place.

“Let’s run away together. After this everyone will be going to their morning work shift, yeah? We can use that as cover and cross over the wall.”

“Forget it. Outside the wall it’s nothing but wasteland. The closest village is two days on foot from here. You’ll end up dying.”

“But you can gather tons of wild plants and nuts, which is way better than what we can eat here. Also, look, there’s this mist out today. Now is the only time we could sneak past Menō’s eyes—”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Sasuke said shortly and with a glance out the window, he gathered his empty plate and stood up. Prisoners who were standing around talking in the narrow passage panicked as they saw Sasuke approaching and rushed to the sides to give him room.

“Don’t you want to get out of here?!”

The man ran up and latched onto his arm, but Sasuke easily freed it from his grip.

“Sorry, but I came here because I wanted to.”

“... What?”

Here? He wanted to come here?

The man was left taken aback as Sasuke exited the cafeteria. He waited until he could no longer see Sasuke’s form and then kicked the leg of a table in anger.

Idiot. Whatever. He can rot in this shithole place forever. I’m going to be free.

The man gathered his plate full of a messy breakfast and stomped out into the hallway. He cast a backwards glance at the prisoners scattered about sitting and chatting, then continued on outside to look upon the wall on the prison grounds. There was still time before the morning shift started. The chances of patrols coming out here should be low. No one guards the fence. Unlike actual prisons, the patrols here basically only work security. They’re not concerned about people who can’t even climb a ten-meter wall.

That’s too bad. I can climb it.

The man placed his hand upon the smooth stone wall. Recalling the lessons from his past, he gathered chakra and concentrated it in his palm. There was a sensation of it sticking precisely to the stone surface. The man started crawling up the wall like a frog.

In the distance he could hear a commotion from the other prisoners. It had only been a few minutes since he started climbing. There should be few people outside at this time. The head guard and the other patrols should be having breakfast in the main building.

It’s fine. You can do it. Climb up before you’re found. Menō will appear at some point.

His body was lighter than he imagined. He’d already climbed about halfway but wasn’t tired. He could keep climbing for another hour.

There was the sound of gravel and sand being stepped on. The man looked over his shoulder and met yellow eyes. A chill went down his spine.

He’d been found. It was Menō.

This is bad, this is bad, this is bad—I have to escape quickly!

In his panic the man lost control of his chakra. The hand touching the wall slipped off and his body floated in midair.

I’m falling, he thought. Then a burning pain erupted in his torso, his blood pressure dropping suddenly. As he lost consciousness, he met the unmistakable eyes of Menō, sinking his teeth deep into his chest.

#Sasuke Retsuden #Naruto #SasuSaku #Sasuke Uchiha #Sakura Haruno #Jiji #Meno #Zansuru #English translation #Translation

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cryptidshuffle · 4 years ago

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the less we say about it the better - chp 1

ao3

Rating: Teen Fandom: Half-Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware Relationships: Tommy Coolatta & Gordon Freeman, Tommy Coolatta/Gordon Freeman (pre relationship) Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Temporary Character Death(its benrey dont worry hes ok), meta about deaths and respawns, arguing about the rules of uno, gay pining, Mutual Pining, fellas is it gay to comfort ur friend who u love and are both boys?, also fair warning it'll eventually be a poly ship with benrey, Autistic Character, Autistic Tommy, ADHD Gordon, everyone is gay and trans, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Summary: “after everything we’ve been through we deserve a few mental break downs.” they are trying to recover after black mesa, but recovery is hard. especially when one of you is still dead

---------------

They had been out of Black Mesa for a few weeks now. It was difficult trying to acclimate to life after the incident, but they were all making it work.

The science team had gotten together for some sort of game night, something cathartic about being around others who share the same trauma. Anyways, snacks and Uno was just as chaotic as one would imagine with this group of chucklefucks, with competitive tensions high on the last round of the night.

“You can’t stack the draw 4 cards, Gordon,” Bubby argued, smacking Gordon’s hand just as he placed the card.

“Says who?”

“It’s literally against the fucking rules of the game,” Bubby said back.

Tommy agreed with, “It is in the official rules, Mr. Freeman, they- Mattel confirmed it on Twitter.”

“But that’s dumb!” Gordon argued back, “I’ve always played where you can stack those, why change that now?"

Bubby retorted, “Well maybe you’ve always been playing wrong, huh? Ever thought about that, smartass?”

Dr. Coomer chimed in with, “Well on the official page for Uno (card game) on Wikipedia, the free online encyclopedia that anyone can edit, it states that

The following official house rules are suggested in the Uno rulebook, to alter the game:

Progressive Uno: If a draw card is played, and the following player has the same card, they can play that card and "stack" the penalty, which adds to the current penalty and passes it to the following player.[4](Although a +4 cannot be stacked on a +2, or vice versa.)[6] This house rule is so commonly used that there was widespread Twitter surprise in 2019 when Mattel stated that stacking was not part of the standard rules of Uno.[6]”

“Well, there you have it,” Gordon exclaims, interrupting Coomer’s Wikipedia infodump, “Just because it’s a house rule doesn’t mean it’s not a legitimate way of playing."

“What if I don’t want to play with that rule, that’s fuckin stupid,” Bubby grumbles.

“Jesus ok, I'll play a different card, happy?” Gordon says dejectedly, taking back his controversial draw 4 card for a more innocuous one. “It’s your turn anyways.”

Bubby throws down his last card onto the pile. “I win fuckers!!!! Ahahahahaha!"

“You wouldn’t have won if you let me stack the fucking cards,” Gordon said as he threw his losing card pile onto the coffee table.

“Don’t fret Gordon! Bubby is just extremely good at card games,” Dr. Coomer replied.

“You're forgetting I’m a goddamn genius, that extends to my sick-ass Uno skills,” Bubby bragged.

Gordon chuckled, watching the two older scientists get up to leave, and watching Tommy remain, quietly cleaning up the uno deck into neat piles to place in its box.

“Well gentlemen, it’s been fun, though I think it’s time Bubby and I better get going!” Dr. Coomer said.

“No problem, don’t want you two to be late for your old man early-bird breakfast at Golden Corral tomorrow!” Gordon teased.

“Shut the fuck- I’ll kick your ass,” said Bubby.

“Hello Gord- Actually our old man breakfast is not until Saturday! It’s the one day a week I let loose and unhinge my jaws at the buffet like a Burmese Python!” said Dr. Coomer as Bubby grabs his coat and keys.

“That sounds absolutely horrifying,” Gordon laughs.

“It really is,” says Bubby. “Well, see you later asshole,” Bubby says, herding himself and Coomer out the front door.

“See you guys later,” Gordon says.

“Goodbye, Gordon! Goodbye, Tommy,” Coomer also says, before they leave Gordon’s apartment.

Tommy had yet to get up to leave, he stayed sitting in his seat staring into space, and fiddling with the Uno card deck.

“Hey Tommy, you alright man?” he asked gently. At the mention of his name, he was shaken a bit out of his stupor.

“Y-yeah I'm fine Mr. Freeman, why do you ask?”

“I mean you were kinda just staring into space for a bit, and you didn’t say anything when Bubby and Coomer left.”

“Oh shit. Sorry about that, I’ll get out of your hair,” Tommy said, starting to move to leave.

Gordon placed a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “Hey, if something’s bothering you, just know I’m here if you wanna talk about it,” Gordon comforted.

Tommy blushed slightly at the contact and nodded.

“Thank you. I-uh… I’ve just been thinking about things that happened back in Black Mesa and, you know,” he pauses to think for a bit, and sighs, “honestly I’ve been thinking a lot about Benrey.”

Just at the mention of him, Gordon felt his stomach drop with the weight of too many emotions.

“Yeah...I uh… I understand,” he responds with a sad sigh, “anything in particular you’re thinking about him?”

“I don’t know just kind of- Earlier I started thinking about how much he would enjoy game night. And then I started to miss him and realize that- that he’s not here. I feel guilty about killing him and upset at what he did. He was still my friend and I just- I want to know why he did what he did. I just want to understand,” Tommy said.

Gordon looked away as he thought about his own emotions regarding Benrey. He was undeniably angry with him, for getting him ambushed by the bootboys, for getting his arm cut off, frustrated with the constant taunting. Yet… he also felt guilty for some reason and he couldn’t quite place why. Gordon really didn’t want to feel guilty.

“Yeah…” Gordon sighed, “I'll be honest I do feel guilty about it too. I don’t know why because I feel like it should be justified since he did try to kill us. But there were times when him pestering me about my arm felt like… like sincere questioning? I still… I don’t know.”

“Yeah… I think-” Tommy cut himself off, staring at a fixed point in his vision, trying to decide whether or not to bring this up.

“I don’t think Benrey understood how human mortality worked.”

Well, that wasn’t what Gordon expected. “What do you mean?”

“Well, he was from Xen, Mr. Freeman, he wasn’t human. It was different for him. You remember he did die several times, but he came back eventually. He had to wait for his form to regenerate.”

“Wait-” this time Gordon cut Tommy off, “Oh shit, that wasn’t a joke? For some reason I just assumed his talking about respawns and shit was part of his Epic Gamer bit?”

“I mean it was a little but I think… there’s probably a reason Benrey attached himself to video games so much, yeah? He can see himself in the structure. Like, uh- something he can relate to.” Tommy says. “It doesn’t excuse what- what he did, but I feel like knowing why things happened makes- makes them more understandable.”

Gordon leaned back on the couch blown away by the revelation. In hindsight it wasn’t that surprising but it took him a few seconds to come to terms with the reality.

“Yeah, when you put it that way, I guess it does make a lot of sense. Wait though, I swear to god all of you have died at least once, but you guys aren’t from Xen?” Gordon said, now confused about the seeming metanarrative of the mortality of his friends.

“Yeah, but those were weird Black Mesa things, Mr. Freeman,” Tommy said, not elaborating any more than that.

Gordon waited a beat for Tommy to explain more but he said all he needed to.

“I will ask you more about that later, but I do not have the energy to unpack all that right now,” Gordon said with a gentle laugh.

“Wait, getting back on topic real quick, why couldn’t Benrey just... respawn now? Did we really get him that good?”

Tommy looked incredibly sad when Gordon said this, and he regretted it immediately. ‘Damn it Gordon, Tommy’s clearly upset about Benrey, you don’t gotta be an insensitive dick.’

“Well Mr. Freeman, that’s kinda why I’ve been thinking about him,” Tommy said, “I’m not sure. It shouldn’t have taken him this long to respawn. Depending on the amount of damage it takes longer but… It’s been a while and what if- What if he is back but he is mad at all of us and that’s why we haven’t seen him? Or what if it is taking a really long time because we hurt him a whole lot. Or what if we…”

Tommy got quiet for a few seconds, the silence in the room was deafening. For an instance Gordon felt as if making a sound would shatter the air like glass.

Tommy finally said with a whisper, voice thick with choking back tears, “What if we killed him for good? And I don’t- I never see him again?”

It honestly broke Gordon’s heart how distraught Tommy was. Pushing his own complicated Benrey feelings aside, he was gonna focus on Tommy here and now.

“…Tommy, is it ok if I hug you, man?” Gordon couldn’t think of the best way to comfort the other man with words, but physical comfort he could do.

Tommy looked a little surprised at this ask but nodded. Gordon leaned in to hug the other scientist and Tommy collapsed in his embrace, completely breaking down.

Gordon just sat there and held him as Tommy sobbed into his shoulder, trying to comfort the crying man by rubbing circles into his back.

Gordon’s brain processed the things Tommy had said. Was Benrey really gone? Why did he feel guilty about the idea of having killed Benrey, he was fine with the concept during the final boss fight on Xen but now… the thought made him feel… sad? Regretful? Even his seemingly rational justifications didn’t seem as clear at the moment, only thinking of his fonder memories with Benrey.

‘Fuck this,’ he thought as he felt his own tears well up, ‘this isn’t about me, I need to focus on being there for Tommy,’ pushing his own feelings to the back of his mind to be dealt with later.

Tommy eventually calmed down enough where his sobs turned into sniffles, and he started to pull away from the hug.

“S – sorry for having a – a breakdown on your- on your couch Mr. Freeman,” Tommy said, the post-crying mental fog making his stuttering more noticeable. Tommy didn’t really have the effort in him to care.

“Don’t worry about it, man, after everything we’ve been through we deserve a few mental breakdowns,” Gordon joked trying to lighten the mood.

“Oh, that was nothing, Mr. Freeman, in terms of mental breakdowns that was as mild as a first-grade pizza party in the eye of a hurricane,” Tommy compared in a way that made little sense to Gordon, yet ridiculous enough to cause the man to burst out laughing.

“Alright I’ll take your word for it,” Gordon said, still laughing.

“I’m serious Mr. Freeman, once you have a meltdown so intense that you accidentally teleport yourself to an inter-dimensional void, the rest is a cake walk at the school fair,” Tommy said.

“Waitwaitwait- teleport?” he leaned back to look at him in surprise, “Since when could you fuckin teleport!” Gordon asked caught off guard.

“You know, learned some things from my Dad,” Tommy said, again failing to further explain himself.

“…Well alright. Yeah that tracks.”

Gordon was quiet for a moment before responding with, “You know, Tommy, I want you to know I’m here for you if you need anyone to talk to. You were there for me when I was at my lowest in Black Mesa, and I wanna be that friend to you if you need it,” he said giving the other scientists hand a comforting squeeze.

Tommy smiled, “Thank you, that means a lot Mr. Freeman.”

“You know you can call me Gordon, you don’t have to be so formal all the time Dr. Coolatta,” he teased.

Tommy blushed, ‘dammit why did he have to be so cute?’

“Wow Mr. Fr – Gordon are you really gonna make fun of my doctorate that I worked very hard for,” Tommy teased back, still a bit sniffly from crying.

“Dude, I cannot imagine you in college for some reason, what was your doctorate even in” asked Gordon, semi-jokingly, but still a bit serious.

Tommy laughed a bit, wiping the remaining tears away with the back of his hand. “Bio-chemical engineering. Creating Sunkist was for my thesis project.” Normally Tommy would be more then willing to infodump about the topic but he found his energy to be draining fast.

“What the fuck, that’s cooler than mine was. Us nerds in the Theoretical Physics department didn’t do any crazy shit like that,” Gordon said.

“Bold of you to assume I was a nerd, G-Gordon. I was the craziest guy in the frat house,” Tommy said.

Gordon’s memory vaguely recalls Tommy’s insistence that he “do something crazy” when drinking Darnold’s Potion of Grow Gun Arm.

“You know what, yeah, surprisingly I can see that image vividly in my head,” Gordon said. “Real talk though…” he said changing the subject and putting his hand on Tommy’s shoulder, “Are you- uh, ok? Like feeling better?”

Tommy was quiet for a second, eyes flickering down to look at his fidgeting hands in his lap, before replying with, “I’m ok. N-not great, I don’t think, but I will be.”

Gordon nodded. “Tommy, if there’s one nugget of wisdom that I have to share, it’s that healing takes time, things usually turn out to be ok in the end. No matter what’s going on with Benrey…it'll be alright, I’m sure.” Gordon patted his shoulder for emphasis, “not the best advice out there but it’s the best I can come up with straight off the dome. And I don’t wanna seem like I didn’t try to help you out."

Tommy laughed gently, “Thank you Mr. Fr- uh, thank you Gordon. You did help. Even if- if your advice was a bit cheesy.”

“Whatever man, you can’t blame me for trying,” Gordon laughed, playfully shoving Tommy where his hand had previously rested on the other man’s shoulder. Tommy laughed in return. He only noticed the warmth of Gordon’s touch once it was gone.

Tommy absentmindedly noticed the time on the wall clock in Gordon’s apartment. Jesus, 11:30? When did it get so late? The older scientist really hoped he wasn’t overstaying his welcome; While he would love to just stay here and joke around, he had already bothered Mr. Freeman enough and was already exhausted.

“I- I’m probably gonna head back home now, I didn’t realize how late it was,” Tommy said, standing up from his spot next to Gordon.

Gordon nodded. He had the passing thought of offering for Tommy to stay but… maybe that was a step too far. ‘Tommy probably wants his space,’ Gordon rationalized to himself.

He nodded, “Alright, don’t let me keep you,” he said, getting up as well to help Tommy gather his belongings. Which, to be honest Tommy didn’t bring much but some snacks for the group, but Gordon just needed an excuse to do anything.

Gordon walked Tommy to the front door of his apartment, like the good host he was, opening the door for him.

“Thanks for coming over Tommy,” he said.

Tommy nodded. “Thank- thank you again for letting me talk about Benrey, I know it was kinda rough there at the end, but if you ever need to talk about anything… I'm here for you as well.”

Gordon smiled, “Thank you Tommy, I'll keep that in mind.”

Tommy smiled in return, “Have a good night G-Gordon,” he said turning to head to his car.

“Goodnight Tommy.” Gordon turns to head back inside, but before he does, he can’t resist one more jab.

“Thought you could teleport?” he calls out teasingly.

Tommy flips him off, which causes Gordon to laugh harder. “Gives me a headache,” Tommy called back, trying and failing keep a straight face.

Gordon laughs as he waves a final goodbye, turning back inside and closing the door after Tommy waves as well. His thoughts race as he gets ready for bed, trying to ignore his fluttering heartbeat as he lays down for the night.

Tommy shuffles his thoughts in his head as he drives home. The emotional rollercoaster of his already draining social interaction meter from the science team, his Benrey guilt, and his small crush on Gordon was just too much for one day. His hands clench and unclench the steering wheel, looking forward to collapsing in bed for the night, hoping his dad won’t notice he'd been crying.

Somewhere, in an interdimensional void far away from this reality, someone begins to shift awake.

#fanfic #hlvrai #half life vr but the ai is self aware #freelatta

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bisluthq · 4 years ago

Note

Not surprised that people are speculating about who you really are. There are a few of us who are wary (as well we should be). The way you speak in a very definitive way in terms of Tay & Joe, and dismissive of speculation is 👀 You say that you take in all sides, but if we’re being honest it’s not true... your tone when answering asks that you don’t believe is generally condescending and final, without room for discussion. Realistically you know as much as we do, which is not an entire picture. We’ve also had multiple asks ignored/edited by you which adds to the question of why you are pushing the narrative that u are. Before you push the “Kay’s are crazy” on us, a few of us are not actually Kay’s but Gaylors in general

I don’t ignore and I can’t edit asks I don’t have the skillz lol like I don’t know if that’s possible even and if it is my ass isn’t the one who’s able to. Sometimes I miss asks - because I mostly answer from notifications feed on my phone - or sometimes it’ll take too long to answer so I save in drafts and forget coz I get a lot more and sometimes I go to drafts and publish old ones. Sometimes they mention other blogs by name in a way that I feel is uncool or shady so I skip them. Sometimes they’re rude (to me or to Taylor and like I’m not Taylor’s keeper but I’m a stan and I don’t want to answer ones about how shitty she is). If there’s a particular time you had a question and I never answered it and you can’t understand why please feel free to resend. There’s no conspiracy I promise I’m just not super organized because it’s... a fun blog that I run for fun.

I don’t speak in a definitive way about Taylor and Joe. I’ve said idk maybe they’re just besties. I’ve had asks from people saying “how could you say they’re just friends or he’s just a beard” and people who’re like “how can you have such a definitive stance on this” like your ask. I don’t see the point of speculating on Joe and have asked not to really discuss him as much as we do over and over and over so I think if I’m dismissive it’s because I have 0 interest in this topic. He is a big part of her life. He is important to her. Those two things are undeniable and yeah I’m not gonna speculate on them because everyone should know this by now like it’s not a fucking mystery. They spend time with one another without cameras. She cares about him. He cares about her. She has forever tied him to one of her biggest and most exciting and special eras. Idk what the point of debating their sex life is?

Are they fucking? Idk. Is she using him as a cover for someone else? Unlikely IMO just because she’d have to be SO NINJA to both have regular organic quasi sightings with Joe and repeatedly interact with his family and friends and so forth and simultaneously have a super duper secret girlfriend. But maybe, like maybe the girlfriend is in that friend group, idk I’m not them and who knows. Friends who speak to me privately will know I got WILDLY EXCITED when the Beth G x Tay theory got floated like that was completely my jam and even tho I found out she’s married pretty quickly I am happy to entertain Beth x Tay x Joe x Beth’s writer husband creative genius polylcule. I’m not dismissive of stuff if it’s fun. I’m dismissive of stuff when (to me) it’s not.

Like I don’t care if they’re fucking or if they’re besties. He’s not going anywhere either way so idk why you do like... there’s no way to “find out” if they’re fucking or not and what would we do with that info? It’s an irrelevant conversation about a man who frankly doesn’t interest me beyond his association with her. So yeah I shut those down. If you wanna have a blog that just backs and forth on whether Swiftwyn fuck you should find one or start it because it’s just not my jam but if there’s a need for that lane it should obvi exist.

I try end off every ask I don’t believe by saying that if you want to believe this, know that there are counterarguments, but go ahead. I’ve spent literal hours researching this shit this year. I’ve made my own opinions up. And yeah, I’m an opinionated noisy bitch. I will therefore, obviously, explain my opinions and usually if not always show the “working out” that lead me to believe what I believe. Do you have to agree with me? Nope. Does it bother me that people disagree with me? Not at all. Again, I’m publicly friends with people on here who disagree with me about some pretty major stuff and it’s not a big deal.

Anyway, yeah I’m legitimately sorry if you’ve felt ignored or ever condescended to (the latter could have been my attempt at humor and I’m sorry if it didn’t work, that’s on me because I shouldn’t be making people feel that way through an attempt at evoking a laugh). I fucking wish one of these assholes was paying me or I was part of a conspiracy. But genuinely I’m just someone who had/has a lot of time, who enjoys writing and research and does both professionally, who has worked in the media side of the entertainment industry since 2015, and who has strong opinions when I’ve done research on it.

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bladekindeyewear · 5 years ago

Text

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-05-19

Figured an upd8 was coming, it’s felt like enough time has passed for one.

Huh, looking at my last post I’d completely forgotten I was supposed to play through Pesterquest sometime... work is busy and stressing me out a bit, I’m not sure when I’ll have the energy on the side to do that. (Maybe I’ll livetweet it like I did Undertale a while ago, but this time not looking at my twitter replies so I don’t get spoiled by One Guy™?)

Also, including bonus commentary on A Threat Sensed.

Okay, going in completely blind. I’d guessed from context that we’re hopping over to Meat side to get a chapter there before we can come back to actually see Yiffy?

Yep. Okay, what is this about exactly?

(Agh, dammit, I’ve been copying and pasting so much at work remoting into Windows lately that now I’m automatically trying to hit control-C instead of command-C to copy.)

> CHAPTER 9. How Goes The Eulogizing, Dear?

CONTENT NOTE: This chapter contains Child Abuse.

Which one???

Wait

JANE: (Where is he?) JANE: (It's a question I've found myself asking many times in recent days.)

Holy SHIT we get two Candy chapters in a row??? So we might see her right away?? No, it’s gotta just be another tiny glimpse.

(Has two Candy chapters in a row happened before? Future Boots, scroll back up and put this here. FUTURE BOOTS: “I forgot to scroll back up and put that here.” EDIT: Also, not the first time with two in a row, but it IS the first time with THREE in a row, huh.)

So Jane has to be talking about either Tavros or Dave. --Oh, if this was a Candy Side chapter title, I guess Rose or Jade is eulogizing Dave for John?

> (==>)

JANE: (Where now is our merry savior?) JANE: (Where is the horn that was honking?) JANE: (Where is the cape and the codpiece, and the...) JANE: (The...) JANE: (Oh, fiddlesticks.)

What? Is she reading a childrens’ book? --Oh. She’s eulogizing Gamzee. So that gives us a third option, where the rebellion crashes the funeral somehow, probably audiovisually rather than in person. (Which would make sense, given Candy practically began with Gamzee crashing Dirk’s funeral.)

> (==>)

Ah never mind, she’s still writing it.

That sure is a single button drama-remote that’s going to be pressed at some point. Oh, and who the fuck keeps a spork in a pen cup??? --No no, don’t say it’s one of those pens with a spork at the eraser end, either ready-made or rubber-banded to the side. That would make sense. You totally know it isn’t that and is just a spork.

JANE: (Okay, poetry is out.) JANE: (What else?) JANE: (Hrm...) JANE: (I've always been pretty good at crying on cue.) JANE: (Could I try staging an emotional breakdown?) JANE: (That could work; playing to people's humanity.)

Why were you crying in Jake’s arms about his death if you didn’t care that much? Did you just want him to hold you and kinda make him feel in on things again? Or did you just cry yourself out about him?

JANE: (Or whatever is the more inclusive term.)

I bet the rest of Earth C figured out a more inclusive term millenia ago FUCK I accidentally added millennia to my dictionary misspelled instead of correcting it hold on--

...There, killed the entry for it. ...Huh. Take a look at my Chrome dictionary’s custom-added words over the years, apparently:

Caliborn Eridan Kanaya Matriorb Meenah Tavros alchemiter dichotomic nephilim reblogged uncaptchalogues uncaptchaloguing

That’s fun.

Okay back to reading. Millennia. Phew! Where was I.

JANE: (One really good and calculated weep could do it, I think.) JANE: (But then there's the danger that I might get carried away and do it for real.) JANE: (And I can't risk that.)

So still feeling something, just too used to calculating over the past years.

JANE: (What can I say about him that will stir up their emotions?) JANE: (Do I mention the stuff about the milk?) JANE: (Think Crocker, think.)

WHY would you-- how much did Gamzee normalize adult breastfeeding?!

JAKE: Ahoy over there!

Not the best time.

(The thing with the divorce papers from the Epilogue and John implying he was planning with Jake to execute something that sounds like a divorce... is that going to be sprung here? Did her lawyers send the divorce papers way back when she was in a fit of pique, and he just had them available to sign now at the tactical moment? Or... let me pull the exact text...)

JOHN: now, harry anderson, i know that you and tavros haven't always gotten along. JOHN: but i am going to have to ask you to try and look out for him for the time being. JOHN: your uncle jake and i... well, i'll explain later. JOHN: let's just say that gamzee isn't the only family member jane is losing today.

(So is John going to submit the papers? Or did they already go through a while ago and default custody to John or something who’s going to adopt him too or some nonsense? And did he plan this out with Jake NOW, or a while ago, and if only a while ago, is Jake going to KNOW whatever John’s about to pull in that respect is about to happen??)

> (==>)

Butte

Janepalme

> (==>)

JAKE: Er... how goes the eulogizing, dear?

Gah. I completely forgot again that capitalized-first-letter chapter names don’t mean KANAYA is saying them. That probably makes a lot more sense out of my wondering about the chapter title earlier to those of you who didn’t realize I was making that mistake.

JANE: It turns out that it's mighty difficult to find touching things to say about a person, the relationship with whom was predicated on deep-seated mutual loathing.

Hah!

--A loathing you regarded as largely more important to you than Jake ever was, by the way. You asshole.

JANE: I imagine this is one of the reasons no funerary tradition was ever established on Alternia, besides the barbarism of their culture. DIRK: Jesus christ. JANE: Not only did a significant proportion of their interpersonality depend on romance in the form of hatred, but it was a society based on cruelty and violence. JANE: What reason could they have had to provide for the dead? JANE: What kind of last rites could they have even imagined?

I wondered for a moment why (bg!)Dirk of all people would react to a single line of her starting to bring up prejudices, but then I realized that (1) Brain Ghost Dirk is a little more Jakey, and (2) Dirk knew that more ranting would follow the first line.

JANE: I can't think of anything good to write about him because deep down, I hated his guts. JANE: But he was and is beloved of the multitude, so I have to think of something regardless. JAKE: Im not sure i understand. JANE: Don't worry your pretty little head about it. JANE: This is politics, Jakey. JANE: Lying through your two front teeth about people you hate is about as good a definition as it's possible to get. JANE: But, by gum, is it tiring work.

Mm. It’s a position Jane put herself in, but it’s still a legitimate position once you’re there.

JANE: The funeral is tomorrow, after all.

Got it.

DIRK: Dude, the bowl. JAKE: Hm? JAKE: Oh, right. JANE: What is it now, Jake. JAKE: I brought something for our guest as well. JANE: You mean the prisoner. JAKE: Y...es.

Wait, bowl?

Oh god damnit which of you had the idea to feed her with a DOG BOWL. Either of you could have thought of it, and either of you would be horrible for it.

> (==>)

Huh, that outfit on Yiffy looks familiar, like a reference to something. And a black tail? This definitely isn’t quite the look I was expecting from Jade Plus Rose, but I suppose the snazzy tie is a Roseish vibe. Also reminiscent of Jade’s old Dead Shuffle dress. Formal wear and soccer cleats??

JANE: She's over in the corner. JANE: Don't worry, she won't bite. JANE: I've seen to that already.

WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN. I don’t see anything over her mouth! Did she stick something in it, or drug her? File her fucking teeth???

I mean I did forget the Child Abuse trigger warning to be fair. Hoping whatever would be on her mouth is just not shown in-panel yet for stylistic reasons.

> (==>)

JAKE: Its only mac and cheese, sorry. JAKE: Its all I know how to make, haha. JAKE: ... JAKE: I um... hope you can safely partake of cheese? JAKE: ... JAKE: Well, JAKE: Bon appetit.

How the fuck did Jake eat on his island then? --Oh right, preserved food cans that Grandma Jade stored up, I think I remember. Why would cheese not be a thing for them, if it’s fine for Jade? I know he’s probably not just worried about lactose intolerance.

Either way, if she’s drugged here, that’ll mean we won’t get a good idea of her for a while, so which is it...

> (==>)

DIRK: Bon appetit. DIRK: Seriously dude? JAKE: (What? Did i pronounce it wrong?) DIRK: Jake. DIRK: You put the food in a fucking dog bowl. JAKE: (It was all there was, ok???) JAKE: (I feel awful enough as it is without you getting on my case about it.)

Ah, missed the bone pun. AND, yeah, Jake, you’re a fucking idiot, you could have put it in a cup or something.

JAKE: (So far ive yet to see anything come of that brilliant plan of yours.) JAKE: (Are you sure sending that message to the others was enough?)

Okay, so he IS coordinating this slightly.

> (==>)

Horrifying image to contemplate, eh Jane?

Or anger-inducing?

> (==>)

Seems about right!

> (==>)

Oh that’s a GREAT exasperated Jane face.

JANE: I hope you're not expecting dessert, young lady.

I like how Jane didn’t notice, comment on, or care about the bowl. How can you hate a kid so much??

> (==>)

Oh I know why I felt like I recognized the outfit style, it’s because it’s ANIME AS FUCK. Feels like some Persona 4 Arena nonsense, and I say that not having played any of those games or even remembering what they looked like. Also, white hair, black fur’d dog parts? Nice change of pace.

YIFFY: GRRRRRRRRR... JANE: Oh no you don't.

Red text? What color exactly... “#D00009”? Huh. That’s nowhere near Alt-Callie’s #FF0000, and darker than Dave’s #E00707. In fact, let me go back and check those spilled color pins the commentary pointed out from an update or two ago... no, the red pin is #E63225, closer to Dave’s color. (Also, is Yiffy blocking the doorway out? That’s a pretty slack chain then.)

Did Jane see to it that she wouldn’t bite with like, a water spray bottle?

(EDIT: Oh my FUCKING GOD, THAT's why it's #D00009...)

> (==>)

FUCK I didn’t notice the shock collar in the Yiffy image! FUCK YOU, Jane.

> (==>)

Keeping someone in line with collars, especially ones that punish whenever one strays out of line, has always been a decent way for her to mix in some Doomy control of others to show how she’s “grown” to balance her main role and her Tiara-controlled-like inverse for more power. Doom in part represents boundaries that you can’t cross without getting hurt or punished.

> (==>)

FUCK, those little buck teeth!? D’:

JANE: That's more like it.

She HAS to have more of a reason for hating her than hating her parents, right? Like, more than that and general racism applying to partdogfolk?

> (==>)

Hey fuck off with that!

> (==>)

This is a pretty cool ima-- are those piercings on her dog ear? I didn’t notice that in the first shot, neat.

JANE: You've been a thorn in my side ever since I agreed to enroll you at the academy, little madam. JANE: Back then, I was doing a favor for two old friends who made a disgusting mistake. JANE: I'm no longer going to play nice with you just because of your parents, however. JANE: That truce is over. JANE: Do I make myself understood?

What the fuck? WHY would you do that? Why does Jane run "Ms. Paint’s Home for Inconvenient Girls”? What did Yiffy do to piss her off so much there, how much trouble could she have caused?

I don’t know if she’s referring to the behind-Kanaya’s-back part as disgusting or she’s just being MORE racist.

> (==>)

JANE: We don't want you passing out during the ceremony, do we?

Oh, just showing the hostage off during the clown funeral, huh? Classy much?

> (==>)

JANE: Now, be a good hostage and get some rest, Yiffany dear. JANE: We've got a big day tomorrow.

For a politician, Jane’s not good at looking at herself in a mirror.

> (==>)

JANE: Night night. JANE: Hoo hoo.

> (Yiffy: Lights out.)

Huh, dream stuff is gonna be relevant out in Candy then? *click*

Okay, dark background all of a sudden. Properly dramatic? You even have to highlight the non-link “>” part of the Next link to see it.

> (==>)

-- thespiansGlamor [TG] began pestering adamantGriftress [AG] --

Well, I don’t know WHY it’s happening, but the white-backed pesterlog suddenly on the dark site framing is certainly evocative. Of like, a mood, or something.

TG: i thought he was pretty quiet down there. TG: we'll make a rebel of him yet! AG: Lol. AG: I think it's more that he can't sleep. AG: I know how he feels. TG: yeah. TG: today was a lot. AG: ... TG: do you wanna talk about it? AG: Ugh, not you as well.

It’s really jarring to transition between Homestuck’s “kids jarringly mentally resistant to freaking out about the end of the world” to HS^2′s more realistic “kids traumatized by their first firefight even though it was an overwhelming victory-escape”.

TG: but seriously, do you? AG: Not really. TG: not even about... you know? TG: her? AG: No. TG: ... are you sure? AG: A8solutely. AG: What are you, my moirail? AG: Just leave it, Harry. TG: ok.

Are they about to have an “I wonder what Yiffy’s like” talk?

> (==>)

Very similar Tav/Vrissy convo to the previous one.

GG: I havent ever shared a bedroom before,,, GG: Not even for a slumber party,,, AG: Tavvy, you are just a8out the saddest person I've ever met.

Well, we have an even better idea how horrible Jane can be with kids, now. From Nanna to THIS is quite jarring. I wonder how the double Nannasprites that must still be around here somewhere feel?

> (==>)

TG: nothing about my dad is cute. TG: what are you even saying. AG: Lmao. TG: seriously! TG: i think he has something against that word, even. he gets super weird about it. AG: He's a strange and funny m8n. TG: yeah. TG: ... TG: i think something bad must have happened.

...um. What? Why would John have some sort of trauma about the word cute or being called it?

Did John dress up as a hint of his buried June ambitions as a kid and Dad lavish him with “SO CUTE” praise in an epic supportiveness backfire that caused him to shelve the idea of wearing non-masc clothes and being happier on the flipside of gender ever again??? Because if that’s how June gets canonized as promised, it’s a little harsher than the back of my mind was hoping. I guess it kind of had to be though from the premise of how it was read into his childhood for the original idea, though. Fuck, I hope this Cute business is about something different from that (like a Terezi reference or such) just to get less John Sads. (But still June. Definitely still want to get June.)

> (==>)

Oh, and now Vrissy is doing nothing but talking about what she said she didn’t want to talk about, of course. (Also I like how JANE’s now being called the Batterwitch.)

AG: And the worst part was they didn't even fight a8out it! AG: That made me madder than 8nything else. AG: It felt like I was the only person who even W8S mad! GG: I dont think thats true,,, AG: What would you know a8out it?! GG: Maybe nothing,,, GG: Sorry,,, GG: Its just,,, GG: To me,,, all the way through the conversation,,, aunt kanaya looked even angrier than you,,, AG: ... AG: Adults are so fucking weird.

Guh, I don’t want to be reminded how hurt a good chunk of the fanbase is by Kanaya getting hurt this badly.

Original Tavros was always SLIGHTLY perceptive of others sometimes, but maybe perceptiveness is being hinted at as a Tavros specialty? We still don’t know his classpect/hero-title or have any firm guesses based on purely him evidence. (Also, frightened kids of abusive households tend to learn to get perceptive pretty fucking quickly I hear.)

> (==>)

TG: dad was sitting in the cafeteria with aunt jade and your moms. TG: it looked like they were discussing something important... they were whispering and stuff.

[etc etc] Alright, the what-happened-to-Dave bit. And I imagine they’re kind of helping John grieve there, since Rose and Jade have talked that out already.

TG: aunt kanaya's was the only face i could see. TG: she was standing next to them, but she wasn't looking at what was going on. TG: almost like she couldn't bear to. AG: I doubt it. Kanaya's got a8out as much Emotivity as a very reclusive stone. TG: ok, i think that is bullshit but whatever. TG: she saw me standing there, but didn't say anything. she just shook her head slightly, and pointed back out into the hallway i came down.

Yep, giving them some space to grieve. Also-- gosh, shouldn’t Vrissy have the same emotive senses that Aranea implied Vriska shared with her? Kanaya isn’t that EXPRESSIVE but she’s certainly full of emotion. Also, I hope part of her not bearing to watch wasn’t lingering anger toward Jade and Rose mixing with that, but there probably was a bit of that too, though Dave being gone is so much harsher than that. --I just realized they might not have broken the news to Karkat yet, either.

AG: I guesadxcxzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz TG: vrissy?

Put to sleep by someone slumping down on your phone keypad, or surprised by something about the other conversation?

Oh shit, “other conversation” reminded me I didn’t look at Tavros’s chumhandle:

glutinousGymnast [GG]

HHHHHhhhhuh. Hm... huh? hhhh. huh? what, but. Why would. ?????

I really don’t understand what that chumhandle or any of its entendres should signify in this context.

Also, this means for our new four kids we have TG, GG, AG, and ??.

> (==>)

GG: I think she might have succumbed to sleep quite suddenly,,, GG: It would explain the,,,,,, interesting messages I've been getting for a while,,, TG: hehe. TG: i guess that tracks. TG: she does that from time to time.

That’s... strange. Homestuck’s taught us to be suspicious of that.

TG: ... TG: tav? GG: Yes,,, harry anderson,,,? TG: what does it feel like to know someone who's died?

Who is Harry referring to? (EDIT: Yes I know Gamzee for Tavros, but I meant Harry talks like he's worried he'll have to feel that way soon?) Is he just kind of inferring that something bad might have happened to Uncle Dave? Got that perceptive “parents are about to tell me about a death in the family” vibe? Or did he overhear more than he let on to Vrissy?

...alright, that’s the last page of this update. Looks like this chapter is going to continue to have a good bunch of grieving, or talk around it.

---

Now for Bonus Commentary for A Threat, Sensed. For some reason I have a dim memory of like... reading this myself without commenting on it? Or skimming it? But I’m pretty sure I didn’t do that. Weird. Must have imagined doing it.

Ah, I think I saw the opening paragraph scrolling Patreon, and my mind kinda filled in the blanks, this is still looking new to me.

Okay, mostly banter and japes in the commentary here. About Dirk “throwing a huge tantrum in his philosophy cave”.

We’ve had quite a bit of speculation on whether this is “really” Andrew. To that, I think we’d say that it doesn’t “really” matter.

Really? That was speculated about? :/

Here we discover that Dirk has not, as some people have speculated, been directly intervening into the Candy timeline, or influencing it in any way. In fact, he has a very hard time seeing anything going on there at all.

Mhmm, and that was a pretty important thing to learn.

A couple of years ago I might have agreed with the take that everything happening in Candy is simply too outlandish to ever happen naturally, without direct, villainous interference, but that was before literally every fucking batshit insane thing that has happened on Real Life Earth started going down, and now I will believe literally anything.

This is a nice bit of distraction from the idea that at least the opening parts of the Candy story were written/narrated by Original, Alive Calliope over on meat side. To refresh your memory of what was pointed out to me:

ROXY: back when jade first got all effed up callie saw somethin and it made them freak out ROXY: it took me weeks to convince them that it was safe to come home ROXY: but now we got the opposite problem and they arent leavin the house at all ROXY: they stay home all day with the blinds drawn paintin some weird ass shit on the walls TEREZI: WH4T? ROXY: its not as bad as it sounds i promise ROXY: some of it is like ROXY: weird and violent?? ROXY: like lotsa nasty purple blood and um ROXY: nudity???? TEREZI: >:? ROXY: yeah yikes ROXY: but MOST of it is cute stuff like... various combos of all of us being happy and gettin married and shit ROXY: anyway thats kept callie kinda busy

Which tracks with the initial out-of-character-seemingness of almost everyone at the start of Candy, and how they kind of tried to railroad things back onto the “Happy??” track after Dirk derailed it with his weird self-accumulation suicide, along with some of the flowery-idyllic descriptions of characters seeing each other bathed in a halo of light and such.

Of course, they’re not going to out-and-out STATE that Calliope was at fault for that narration, helping the Candy story not necessarily fall out the way it did “naturally”, until we finally get a glimpse of her on the heroes’ ship in Meat probably still painting the continuing Candy events, inspiring them into the void of the singularity with her latent powers. Til then, it’s a bit of misdirection whenever the topic is to be brought up. Along with a mix of Roxy’s late-Candy point to John of more or less “why COULDN’T we have done this naturally? you don’t know”.

He might even think that he has more direct power over the narrative than Hussie does himself. Surprise, motherfucker, you are a fictional character.

I’ll quote this next part in full:

There’s been talk of whether or not this bonus was written in the two days between its release and the Yiffy reveal chapter. The answer is--no. It was written over a month ago. But I think the things it addresses were not difficult to suss out. Obviously, Dirk is highlighting the issues that the readership are having with Yiffy, in his typical Dirk fashion. If it seems a little defensive, well...I suppose it is. Yiffy is one of the two hard lines drawn in the sand, and all of us love her, and we’re hoping that everyone else will love her too. But more than that, it focuses on the fact that update culture has a rhythm to it--shock, revulsion, acceptance (or not), and then excitement (or not). Will it follow that pattern this time? Who knows. I guess we’ll find out.

Yeah, given what was going to be dropped on us I expected they would have had exactly this lined up, especially because Andrew specifically mandated Yiffy. --I wonder why they aren’t mentioning that somewhere in the commentary and only on one of their Twitters?

Also quoting this:

There’s something both incredibly “cringe” and self-indulgent, as well as philosophically intriguing, about the author arguing with his villain, especially since he’s writing both halves of the conversation himself. You are, for all intents and purposes, trying to solve a problem that you have created for yourself. You are looking an aspect of your personality in the eye and asking, hey, what the fuck, man?

But in the end, isn’t that what every story is? Trying to untie knots that you put in the rope yourself?

Since it’s part of the central struggle of this story, and kind of the question Andrew’s tried to imply with every Homestuck work about what right we have to keep these characters trapped in a story, and if they’d be better off escaping it.

I’m really trying to avoid quoting so much of this, since the commentary is paid... but I think we can make an exception here? I’ll have only quoted about half of it; just, the really plot-important half. Plus, I left out a LOOOT of japes.

Dirk has a certain idea of how stories are supposed to go. That’s pretty much what the Epilogues is about. The audience also has a certain expectation of how a story is supposed to go. In a way, the Epilogues were also about that. They were taking a story that had reached the traditionally “acceptable” happily ever after, and saying, wait, no. What happens next? Thinking past happily ever after in any story is a terrifying prospect. Once Cinderella marries the prince, what then? Sure, she got what she wanted, but who knows that it will be everything she dreamt it would? What if she changes her mind, if not today, what about ten years from now? What if the prince dies of malaria?

And I’m...

Yeah I don’t have anything else to add here, I’m kind of out of brain juice to think about this tonight. BUSY day I had. Y’all take care!

#Homestuck #hs2 #Homestuck Liveblog #upd8 #Homestuck^2 #bladekindeyewear #blastyoboots #spoiler #spoilers #Homestuck Commentary

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robotslenderman · 4 years ago

Text

Still only partway through CP77.

Spoilers for the Death’s Head questline.

Warning: this involves my V ignoring canon, having a mental breakdown and expressing it by attacking poor, poor fucking Judy.

So like

My V was a complete fucking mess after the Heist and what happened there. Her best friend (and crush) was dead, she almost died, and she had a fucking terrorist in her head who could TOUCH HERRRR and had hijacked her body and hurt her, and she was going to die in a month and slowly lose control of her body to someone who wanted to hurt her.

She. Was fucking. Terrified. Even when Johnny offered an olive branch she didn’t trust him at all (something Judy would come to relate to, although my V hasn’t yet noticed the parallel).

So when Judy refused to give her any information on Evelyn?

V, who was absolutely scared for her life and having a mental breakdown after the death of her best friend, went to visit Judy.

With a baseball bat.

And used it.

I know this doesn’t make it better at all, but V did hold back a bit -- didn’t hit the head, pulled her punches on the body and spine, and mostly went for the legs. If any permanent damage was done, it wouldn’t be to Judy’s brain, it wouldn’t be to her hands or arms. Better she disabled Judy’s ability to walk if she went too far than fucking lobotomising her or fucking up her hands.

How fucking considerate of her, I know. V basically wanted to scare the shit out of her, made her think that other people were hunting down Evelyn (”if you don’t give me this information, I’ll just fucking kill you. I don’t need you. I can wait for someone else to find her first and drop in on them. So you better talk because otherwise you’re not getting out of here alive”), and made a big song and dance about how the only reason V wasn’t going to fucking annihilate Judy on the spot was because Jackie would never forgive her for turning into a complete monster.

Anyway. Poor Judy quickly blurted out the information about Clouds once she realised V was not fucking around. V threatened her again, then got the fuck out. And obviously hasn’t been back to Lizzie’s since.

When she calmed down she wrote Judy an apology letter. (I told my friend this. She was like “your V is fucking psycho.” Yeah.) She was like “look, I know an apology doesn’t mean jack fucking shit after what I did to you, but... idk man. send me what you owe the ripperdoc and I’ll square my debt to you.”

Yeah V, because contacting someone you fucking traumatised is a BRILLIANT FUCKING IDEA, I bet Judy wouldn’t be afraid AT ALL to send you a bill!

(Naturally, Judy didn’t reply and just sent some of the Mox. V gave them everything she could spare and told them to come back in a week for the rest. They roughed her up. She fought back enough to defend herself and eventually toss them out, but didn’t attack them because she knew that wouldn’t help Judy.)

Needless to say, when she ran into Judy at Fingers’ place Judy was NOT at all happy to see her and didn’t want to work with her at all. V basically gave her all the details she uncovered at Clouds -- by now she was actually pretty damn worried about Evelyn and she’d started coming to terms with the fact she was going to die, so she was far more concerned about finding Evelyn than getting anything from her, and was terrified Evelyn was dead.

But obviously Judy was still Mega Freaked Out and traumatised and wasn’t going to work with her. V didn’t offer, either. V didn’t try to scare Judy, but she was also a bit tetchy because Judy obviously didn’t want her looking for Evelyn still, and so V probably scared her a little still because V was like “look, I’m going to find her whether you like it or not, get out of my way. She is in big fucking trouble and I don’t have time for this.”

Judy followed her into Fingers’ room and watched her deal with Fingers. V was actually pretty calm when dealing with Fingers, then realised how fucked up it was that she beat up Judy but not this asshole, so she beat up Fingers too.

Nice, V. Way not to freak out Judy even more.

But obviously, Judy didn’t want to work with V like she did in canon. So V got the snuff film by herself. Unfortunately, she needed an editor, so this was the point where she reached out to Judy again. Sent her a text message that basically said, “This film could help me find Evelyn. Give me a time when you won’t be in and I’ll use your stuff to get into edit mode and track them down.”

V’s dumbass logic: “she probably doesn’t want to see me but I need this information, so I’ll just tell her to keep away from me.”

Judy’s response was “oh my god, even if you could do this without someone on the outside what the hell makes you think I’d let you on my tech unsupervised?!”

(V: “Oh. Right.”) “Do you want me to find Evelyn or not?”

“That’s not what I meant! Come in, but I’m operating the computer and I’m putting Mox in there with us, so don’t you dare try to intimidate me.”

“... Yeah that’s a much better idea. I just knew you wouldn’t want to be alone with me.”

“Can’t imagine why.”

(V, thinking a joke might put her at ease a bit, not realising it just makes her look like a psychopath anyway.) “It’s okay, I’ll leave the baseball bat at home.”

(Judy is not at all amused.)

So the questline continues the way it does in-game, except with a very jumpy Judy. It’s when they find Evelyn that Judy is freaked out enough to be distracted from V. V carries out Evelyn, speaking to her softly.

At this point V had totally come to terms with the fact she was going to die. And Evelyn was a complete fucking mess, and Evelyn was not going to talk even if V wanted her to. So my V didn’t even bother with that, just helped Judy get Evelyn the hell out of there.

Once Evelyn was settled in Judy’s apartment (it’s only later that Judy realises “oh shit, now V knows where I live”) Judy and V’s conversation went almost exactly as it did in canon, with the exception of the more trusting/loyal responses Judy gives you, which Judy simply omitted. V also elaborated on some of the stuff in her letter -- that V was dying because of the relic slowly overwriting her presonality, and she’d hunted down Evelyn because Evelyn could give her a lead to go on to reverse the process. But V still didn’t make any attempts to talk with Evelyn. V knew she was going to die. She wasn’t going to compound Evelyn’s trauma even more. When Judy expressed concern that other people were hunting Evelyn, V was like “oh, shit, no, actually, I was bluffing.”

“...”

“I wasn’t going to kill you. I just wanted to make you think I was. I don’t know of anyone actually trying to hunt her down, and I didn’t run into anyone at all while chasing up this information on her. So either she’s in the clear and nobody wants her, or they’re being damn subtle about it. Either way, since she’s in this condition she’ll be staying inside and lying low, so that’ll help her shake off any tail she might have.”

V gave Judy some more money, though not the full amount because she’s still scraping the eddies together -- told Judy she’d make sure she was fully reimbursed before she went. Told Judy if she or Evelyn needed anything more, call her.

...

By then, after seeing her with Evelyn, Judy is not sure about my V.

After the baseball bat incident, Judy thought that my V was an unhinged violent lunatic. I mean, V was an unhinged violent lunatic -- but she’d thought my V was that by default. But obviously my V showed Evelyn a lot of empathy and concern -- genuine empathy and concern, not V trying to go “LOOK HOW NICE I AM” to Judy. She knew V wasn’t trying to show false empathy to butter up Judy because V got pissed at her in Fingers’ office for getting in the way of her trying to find Evelyn to make sure Evelyn was okay. That is, pissed at her for that specific occasion of Judy getting in the way -- V was definitely not checking on Evelyn’s wellbeing when she visited Judy with the baseball bat, but Judy tried to discourage V from going after Evelyn again at Fingers’ office and V’s response was pretty much “oh fuck OFF, she’s in a really bad situation and needs help.”

So Judy was like, okay, there’s two possible judgements you can make about V:

V is one of those people who seems absolutely lovely until she gets in a bad mood, which is even more fucking terrifying because that makes her unpredictable.

V legitimately was in the middle of a mental breakdown and Judy just happened to be really fucking unlucky in that she was the convenient target. V had said this in her letter but obviously Judy was like “What the FUCK did you really send me an APOLOGY LETTER for almost BEATING ME TO DEATH” and hadn’t really taken it seriously, but now she’s starting to think V might have actually told the truth.

Judy is hoping it’s the latter but she’s not holding her breath, and also you have to remember that even if it was a mental breakdown... it showed her exactly what V was like when she was having a mental breakdown, and therefore meant V was perfectly fucking capable of doing it again.

(Meanwhile V was thinking “If she knows I was having a mental breakdown then she knows she doesn’t have to be scared of me doing it again.” No, V. You’re wrong.)

Judy is less spooked after seeing V in action with Evelyn, but she’s still very wary of her. But after V helped her with Evelyn, Judy told her not to worry about the rest of the eddies and just accepted what V gave her then and there. V almost pushed it, but realised Judy probably didn’t want to feel indebted to someone who beat her up with a baseball bat, so she dropped it.

V later sent Judy a weighted blanket for Evelyn to sleep under. “I’ve got one, it helps when I’m stressed. It won’t make her any better, but it might give her a little comfort.”

So right now, V and Judy have an uneasy truce. V keeps her distance from Judy unless she has to, except to occasionally ask after Evelyn, and Judy keeps her distance right back.

V is, however, not sucking up to Judy or grovelling to her. All she wanted was to let Judy know she didn’t have to be scared of her (although again, Judy is perfectly fucking aware that even if it was an actual mental breakdown then yes Judy should be scared of V having another one), that Judy didn’t have to worry about V going back to have another go at her.

V’s not going to make a huge deal about what a horrible person she was. She’s... well. Even if she thought it would help, she’s got a month to live unless the omega blockers give her more time. She’s not going to wear a hair shirt over this. She gave Judy some funds for the ripper doc, she’s apologised (even if an apology feels awfully pathetic), and she’s kept away from her.

Now she’s going to go back to chasing up leads, because Evelyn is in no condition to help. Because Judy released her, she’s been able to pay off her debt to Vik, and now she’s scraping up funds to pay Rogue for help and trying to talk Hakemura out of that fucking parade because that idiot keeps trying to get himself killed and she has to stand by to haul his ass out of the fire.

#Dusty plays #CP77 #violence cw #poor fucking Judy #my V's relationship with Judy parallels her relationship with Johnny #on account of the whole scaring-the-shit-out-of-Judy thing #like how Johnny did with her #optimistically #she's also getting along better with Johnny now #although she doesn't see the parallels AT ALL #I'm sure Johnny'll point it out later #just like how Judy is wary but relaxing with V #V is wary but relaxing with Johnny #Valentina

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