#he says doing things for elizabeth is apparently “not the same” as his dad

[yoosung-ah]

this you?

[findingnemosworld]

𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 - 𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐬

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬

(𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭)

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐛𝐲, 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝. (𝐨𝐫, … 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫)

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐦𝐞, 𝐡𝐢 … 𝐈'𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐦𝐞.

You never forget your first love … ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Love is a double edged sword, and in her case, she'd gotten the sharpest edge -once, so in love and elated to be with him- promised a lifetime of elation and love, only to lose him in the span of months due to life and his ever growing passion of football, a promise to stay in touch had been broken five months into their mutual correspondents, folding their chapter behind them to move forward in life, not once believing that fate would bring them back, until ...

"Y/N? ... Y/N, yoohooo Y/N???"

She was in the midst of working on her latest commission when the sound of her best friend and gallery owner Elizabeth interrupted her thoughts, "Hey Liz, what's up?"

Elizabeth chuckles, "I was about to ask you the same thing!" she gestured to her. "You seemed lost in your own world up there!"

She chuckles as well, "Yeah ... yeah, I was, wasn't I?" she paused for a moment, 𝑆ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝐼 𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙 ℎ𝑒𝑟? ... she wonders, "I was just ..." she began.

"Thinking about him?" Elizabeth asks with a knowing look, "You seem to forget I was there when you two first met."

Y/N smiles sadly, recalling their first encounter -twenty years ago, she was an up and coming artist, tasked with the golden opportunity of painting a mural of the then newly crowned premier league champions, Liverpool- and through said opportunity, she met the club's golden boy, El Niño - Fernando Torres.

The pair bonded almost instantly over their love for football as well as music, and what started as a strictly platnoic friendship had resulted in a few dates here and there which eventually lead to a whirlwind romance that lasted for about seven years until his eventual departure to Italy, where the pair had agreed to become friends albeit that didn't last as they've lost touch with Fernando finding love elswhere, as she did as well.

"You know ..." Elizabeth began with a soft tone. "He was named as one of the legends set to play in the upcoming game!"

Y/N's eyes widened, "Oh?"

"Yeah ... and it gets better!" Elizabeth adds on.

"What?" she retorts with an arched brow.

"He called ... and asked about you." Elizabeth said.

Her heart leapt at the mere notion that nearly twenty years later, he still remembers her. "He- He did?" she wonders with a croaked voice.

"Uh huh ... and on top of that, he gifted us with two tickets." Elizabeth adds on.

"He ... wait a minute, you can't be serious?" she said, stunned by the revelation.

Elizabeth waves the two tickets and says, "Oh but I am ... next week, we will be seated in Anfield, cheering the love of your life ..." she states with a playful tone.

"ELIZABETH!" she groans.

Elizabeth laughs, "Don't you ELIZABETH! me, missy ... you and I both know that despite that shitty marriage you had with Manuel, your heart has been and always will be occupied by one Fernando José Torres Sanz."

"Ok, first off ... that was weird with the full name, and second ... he's probably doing this as a cordial attempt to be friendly and polite, surely he's not in love with me." Y/N waved off the notion in of it self, there was no way he was still in love with her. "Besides, isn't he still married?"

"Actually not, he is a proud single dad to a boy and girl." Elizabeth said, "Apparently he and his wifey called it quits three years ago."

Y/N shot her a deadpan look, "You stalked his social media, didn't you?"

"A little!" Elizabeth shrugs with a grin.

"Idiot!" she grumbles. "Fine ... I guess we're going to the legends game, but there is just no way, absolutely no way that he still remembers me."

Oh but he does, he does remember her.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

To say that he was elated by the offer would be an understatement, he hadn't stepped onto a pitch in over five years since his retirement, content with closing his chapter to focus on helping the younger generation of his boyhood club achieve similar heights, the propsect of playing again seemed far too foreign until the opportunity of partaking in a charity match had landed, and well ... who was he to say no? a return to the very club he remembers fondly was a given at this point, however that was only part of why he had accepted, the other part of the reason being her.

His first love, his first heartache and -the one that got away- that's not to say he didn't love Mariana, his wife as she'd given him Federico and Gabriella, his pride and joy, yet Y/N ...

The vibrant artist, the one that managed to effortlessly capture his heart without even trying, their seven year romance had been his most cherished memory, so much so that everytime she hosted a gallery, or even auctioned off an art piece to help with her local charities, he'd be the first to purchase and support albeit anonymously as he held a deep sense of regret for how they had lost touch.

Until ... the legends game.

Admittedly, he was afraid that Elizabeth -her closest friend- would not answer, hell if anything, he was afraid she'd hang up before he could even muster up a word, surprisingly she seemed receptive to the notion of attending the game, even more so, convincing Y/N to attend with her, but he had firmly believed that she would not attend the game, much less be open to speaking to him again after so long, however he was rather stunned when Elizabeth relayed the news of Y/N attending the game in a week from now.

The days felt like a lifetime, with each training session -his heart leapt with joy at the prospect of seeing her in the stands, hopefully cheering him on- so much so, that by the time the match was set in place and the team was warming up on the pitch, he couldn't help but glance around the masses of fans in hopes of catching a glimpse of her ...

Steven, his former teammate and close friend noted his antsy expression causing him to wonder, "Looking for someone?"

Fernando shakes his head, opting to deny it. "No."

"Really?" Steven retorts with an amused tone, "Cause I could've sworn that that's Y/N over there ..." he gestured to his left.

Fernando whipped his head so quick that Steven couldn't help but chuckle at him -indeed, to his left ... sat Elizabeth and Y/N at the fourth row, both of them dressed in Liverpool jerseys- Y/N was chatting to Elizabeth when all of a sudden their eyes locked and he could have sworn, he was transported back to 2007, his debut match where similar to now, she sat in the stands cheering the team on as loud as she could.

"Nando, ..." Steven chuckles, "You alright mate?"

"Yeah, yeah .." Fernando smiles.

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

"Oh my god ...!" Elizabeth exclaims.

Y/N sighs, she was certain what Elizabeth was about to say as she had noticed his eyes lingering at her every now and then during his warmups, "He wasn't staring!!"

"Uh huh ..." Elizabeth smirks, "That man was so distracted that Steven had to remind him."

"Can you just stop please?" Y/N glares at her.

Elizabeth laughs, "No I won't ..." she paused before adding, "How much do you want to bet that he'll score a goal?"

"Elizabeth ...!" Y/N exclaims with a tight lipped smile, "Can we watch the match please?"

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

The match was certainly a joy to watch for older fans whom have grown up with the legends playing, while the first half seemed off due to the reds conceding, it was the second half that seemed to turn things around, with a variety of talented individuals such as the likes Gregory Vignal, Djibril Cisse and Nabil El Zhar scoring goals to take the lead back from the Ajax legends, however it was the final goal that captured the attention of Anfield, including Y/N.

Fernando had swiftly managed to evade the Ajax legends defense to score an incredible fourth goal that sent the entirety of Anfield into a course of cheers, both Y/N and Elizabeth stood up and cheered with the fans as Fernando celebrated with his teammates, however what he did next had captured everyone's attention, he tilts his head towards Y/N and gives her a subtle nod.

Elizabeth noticed the gesture and said, "I told you ..." she squeals quietly, "I told you!!!" she giggles.

"Stop, he wasn't looking at me ..." Y/N retorts, albeit her blushing cheeks said otherwise.

This was their own special way of communicating, during the early stages of their relationship, whenever he scored, he'd look at her, nod and smile -not wanting to attract further attention towards her- as in her words, the notion of becoming a WAG at the time did not appeal to her, and he respected that.

After the match, Elizabeth had all but insisted that the pair wait next to her car instead of driving off which confused Y/N, "What are waiting for exactly?" she asks Elizabeth.

Elizabeth smiles softly, and gestures to her left, causing Y/N to turn to her left and there it was, Fernando was walking over to them, she turns to Elizabeth, "You sneaky bitch!"

"I got myself a ride so .... bye!" Elizabeth grins leaving the pair alone.

Y/N opened her mouth only to close it when Fernando finally stood in front of her, "Hi ..." she smiles.

"Hey!" he said breathlessly, a soft smile across his lips.

"You look ..." she trails off, with a shy smile.

"Sweaty ..." he laughs, "I know."

"I was going to say handsome but ..." she laughs.

The word falling ever so softly from her lips caused him to blush, and rub his neck gently. "Thank you." he paused for a moment before adding. "You look amazing ... very amazing actually."

"Oh please!" she giggles, waving off his compliment, "Hardly but thank you."

"You've always looked beautiful in my eyes ...." he said with a soft tone. "You looked beautiful back then, and you look even more beautiful now."

Her cheeks flush, and she looks away shyly for a brief moment before giggling, "Ok ... erm, do you ...?" she trails off, pausing as she wondered if he'd accept. "How long are you staying in Liverpool?"

Fernando pauses, for a bit before replying. "Two weeks before the pre season starts, why?"

"Maybe you'd like to get dinner sometimes, or just you know? ..." she smiles softly, "Spend time together, for old time's sake."

A soft yet shy smile appears on his lips before he replies, "Sure."

Her eyes light up, "Yeah?"

"Yeah?" he nods, "Is your number still the same?"

She nods quickly, "Uh huh ..."

"Then I'll call you ..." he smiles before gesturing to the bus, "I better head back, I'll see you later."

"Yes, ... you will." she waves, before entering her car, she took a brief moment to gather herself before grabbing her phone and texting Elizabeth.

I asked him out for dinner and he said yes.

A few minutes later, Elizabeth replies.

Ooooh get it girl!! I mean he's a walking DILF now so I wouldn't put it past you 😋😏💦

Y/N groans, then types back.

I hate you!! 🙂

Elizabeth types back,

Love you too xoxo 😘

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

This wasn’t a date, just two friends catching up, was what she reminded herself as she zipped up the beautiful cherry colored dress that seemed to fit her like a glove –her hair was curled to perfection, coupled with a beautiful yet elegant makeup look that topped her appearance off rather well– for a brief moment, she stares at her reflection in the mirror, hoping that it wasn’t too much.

Gosh Y/N, you’re the one who asked him to have dinner with you and now you’re worried, she internally chastised herself, then checked her appearance before thinking, I’ll just be myself, yeah myself …

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound the doorbell, Oh my god he’s here … a wave of sheer panic washes over here as she double checks her appearance before walking over to her door to open it, and there on the other side, stood Fernando dressed in a white dress shirt coupled with washed jeans, shoes and the unmistakable scent of his cologne that she still remembers.

"Hi!" she whispers with a soft smile.

He smiles back, "Hi, um …" he gently pushes the lavender and white roses bouquet, "These are for you," he added shyly.

Her eyes widen and cheeks flush at the sight of the beautiful set of flowers, "Oh!" she exclaims, grasping the bouquet. "Thank you,"

"No need, I chose these because they mean a second chance …" he trails off with a soft tone.

"A second chance?" she repeats, mirroring his soft tone.

"Yes," he nods, "A second chance to …" he trails off, looking away shyly before looking back up. "Make things right!"

A brief wave of silence washes over them before she pipes up, "Shall we?"

"Yeah, yeah …" he nods, leading her out of the flat. "I got us a reservation at the Italian place we used to go to."

"It’s still open!" she giggles.

"Surprisingly, yes." he smiles. "It’ll be just like old times …"

"Yeah," she repeats, "Just like old times."

The drive to the restaurant was surprisingly silent for the most part with a few brief words exchanged in between, "Your art has been quite impressive!" he exclaims.

"Thank you, … it’s crazy to think that twenty years ago, I was just starting out." she remarked with a gentle smile.

"And here you are, a renowned talented artist." he smiles, "who's also beautiful ..." he added quietly unaware that she had heard him.

They arrive to the restaurant forty five minutes later, and just as she was about to open her door, Fernando all but bolts to her side of the car, opening the passenger door for her.

She giggled. "Nando, I can open my door."

"I know but humor me please, ... you always loved it when I opened the door for you." he reminds her with a soft tone.

Her lips curl up at the vivid memories of their date nights where indeed, she'd melt entirely from how gentlemanly he was towards her. "I did ..." she murmurs softly.

They walk up to the host, "We have a reservation under the name Torres!" Fernando exclaims with a polite smile.

"Ah yes ... right this way sir!"

The host leads them to a private booth, resulting in her remarking. "Nando, don't you think it's a bit too much?"

"No," he shrugs before adding. "It's fitting to the most beautiful woman I know."

"Damn you and your charming tone!" she laughs softly.

"Oh please!" he laughs as well, "You love it."

The pair sit across from one another, and a few minutes later -a waiter arrives with two menus, stating that he'd return to get their orders- he nods in thanks, before glancing back at her and stating, "What do you say? should we get our classic order."

"Fettucine Alfredo with a side of Eggplant Parmesan." she recalled their favorite dishes to order.

"With lemonade ..." he adds with a soft tone.

"Gosh!" she breaths out a soft laugh. "It's like we're back to where we were."

"Except we're older now," he replies.

The waiter comes back, they order their meals -just then, Fernando turns to her, unable to resist saying- "You know, ..." he began with a soft tone, "I regret how we lost touch back then."

Her eyes soften as she recalls how their initial promise to remain in contact following their split had dwindled due to life and other obligations, "Nando ..." she whispers.

He sighs, "When I'd see your missed calls, or messages ... I wanted to respond," he paused, choking back a sob. "I really did but ..." he looks at her, "I never had the courage to, I just figured you hated me and no longer wanted to contact me."

"Oh Fer ..." she sighs, "I ... I never hated you."

"You should have, ... I closed our chapter and just, moved on like you were never there." he murmurs with a dejected tone.

She laughs, "That's just life," she reached over and grasped his hand. "I never hated you, I was upset ... because the first and only man I ever loved, had slipped through my fingers, I don't blame you for no longer speaking to me, if anything I blame life but hey ..." she smiles, "There's an upside, you have two amazing kids who you should be very proud of."

He smiles, "I am ..."

"Good, and now look at us, two old souls reconnecting," she beams before jokingly adding, "Except I actually look old and you look just better than before."

"Stop it!" he chuckles, "You look gorgeous, I mean the blonde hair back then looked amazing now but now, the brunette hair just makes you look more angelic."

"Again, damn you and your charming tone ..." she giggles. "How is it that you aged like fine wine both inside and out?"

"I guess it's cause I never stopped loving you." he remarks.

Her eyes widen, "What?" she whispers.

"Yes, I never stopped loving you Y/N, twenty years only made my love stronger and it would actually ... make me happy if we could." he paused, looking away shyly before adding, "If we could try again?"

The prospect of diving back into a romantic relationship following her disastrous marriage was definitely tricky, that wasn't to say that she did not love Fernando, she actually never stopped loving him but the mere idea was definitely a murky one to dive into, "I ... I don't know what to say, but ... maybe we can um."

Noting her hesitation, he rushed to say. "I don't want to force you, or ask you to jump back in but ..." he gulped, "The fact of the matter is, that ... I never stopped loving you Y/N, Mariana even knew it, so much so that when we finalized the divorce, she advised me to seek you out, knowing that my happiness is with you."

Now that was a shift, usually -a wife, or an ex wife for that matter would be jealous of the notion that their partner/former partner would find love elsewhere- "She did?"

"Yeah, so I guess what I actually mean is ..." he said with a soft tone. "Let's take it slow, rediscover our friendship to go back to how things were."

"I don't know, I ... I'm scared of us not working out, especially because of the long distance, cause ..." she sighs, "My life is here in Liverpool, and your life is in Madrid."

He sighs, "I know but, I want to try ... I missed you gavilán, so much."

Her heart ached at his tone, coupled with the nickname he gave her at the early stages of their relationship. "I missed you too."

"Just think about it?" he asks her, "My number is still the same, I'll answer you through social media too, just ... I can't lose you again gavilán, please." he whispers the last part.

She remained silent for a brief moment before nodding, "Ok!" she exclaims.

His eyes light up, "Good, good!"

Following their date, he drives her back home, a wave of comfortable silence fell between the pair until he arrived to her building, and just before she left the car, she turns to him. "Nando?"

"Yeah?" he replies with a soft tone.

She leans over, pressing a gentle featherlight kiss to his lips which both stunned and had him melting like snow on the first day of spring, he placed his hand on her hip as the kiss lasted for about a minute before she pulled away, and whispered. "Goodnight!"

"Goodnight!" he smiled, watching her exit his car then disappear inside.

He wasn't certain how things would go in the coming days, but a part of him truly believed that she'd say yes, as ... you never forget your first love.

[connectionterminated13]

This story takes place in my AU death swap, Basically a lot of the deaths are swapped Charlie is alive Sammy is dead, Michael gets his self grabbed by circus baby and Elizabeth does Michael's role in sister location and gets herself scooped. Now Evan who survived the bite and became a murder guy just like his dear old dad. This is right after the events of Elizabeth waking up and being found by Charlie Evans coming in to give the more information on what happened. Or so they think Evans about to lie through his teeth for like 3 minutes straight

Sorry if there's a couple mistakes I really pushed this out to make the day! but it was really fun having to write things quicker :3

TW: Mentions of blood, death, mental illness, Murder.

Anyway my submission for the last day of the bash @and-stir-the-stars I hope you like it!

Evan stood outside of the building. It was in a bit of a dirty part of  town but was still nice enough.. honestly it was better than he was expecting. His boots didn't even get that dirty as he walked over to the collection of buzzers on the outside of the apartment looking for Elizabeth's apartment number. 

Evan pressed the correct button and cleared his voice.

“Hello” 

Susie's voice hasn't changed a bit in the almost 7 years since he spoke to her. Evan expected being in a band would make her voice louder, bigger but no it was still that delicate pageant girl voice that had been trained into her. 

“Hey it's me Evan! Here to see Charlie and my sister!” Evan couldn't help but smile to himself despite the bite ruining his face and head, he still had inherited his father's buttery British accent.

“I thought I told you to go shove a stick up your ass…” and The nice Christian slightly overweight, pageant girl was gone and the Punk girl who thought she was interesting was back. 

Evan was hoping the charisma that he had been practicing almost his whole life would get her to be a little bit less obnoxious..

Evan replied with a good natured laugh hiding his annoyance. “Funny but Susie this is serious if you could just open the door for me I love that!”

He heard a bit of chatter too far for the small speaker to pick up. Charlie had intervened, thank God he liked Charlie.

“Sorry about her Evan! She's just a little bit on edge. I'll let you in!” Evan smiled. Charlie was nice. Charlie always came to the hospital to read him books when he could not read himself. She had always been kinder to him than anyone else other than maybe Elizabeth. The only problem with Charlie had been how she liked Michael. He hated how they were friends and then he hated when they were together. One of the many things that had gotten better once Michael had died.

He heard the door open. There was Charlie, a tired smile on her face, Her dark brown hair Wild.. She was wearing some band t-shirt he didn't recognize And comfortable loose sweatpants. She looked like she hadn't slept in days.

“Charlie!” Evan smiled hugging her tight as he felt her arms wrap around him. Always forgot how tall she was.

“Evan I'm so sorry we didn't talk sooner just with school.. and the band… and work. It's been a lot.. I'm so glad you're okay man..” Charlie let out a sigh letting go of him. Evan understood.. 

His less important job at Freddy's and his more important job of gathering remnant took up most of his time.

“Same here Charlie…” And Evan was telling the truth it wasn't part of the plan to have Charlie go down to Circus baby's entertainment and rentals. He had any say in it his sister wouldn't have either. But it was all part of his father's plan so Evan had no choice 

Evan and Charlie talked a little bit as they walked through the door and got into the elevator in the apartment. Apparently school was going well and she had gotten a job working for a computer company doing programming. The band was also going to perform at a big venue next month or it was..

But Evan wasn't really listening to the chatter though. He was thinking about Elizabeth. From what he had heard over the phone she was dead. 

Charlie had told him the whole story through heavy gasps and obvious tears. How they had gotten the call from William telling them that Michael was down in Circus baby's entertainment and rentals and they needed to put him back together. How Elizabeth got a job as a night technician and Charlie got a job as a day technician. How Elizabeth had fought through the first four nights with the help of a mysterious voice revealed to be the main star herself, Circus baby.

How on the 5th night circus baby and all the other animatronics had tore themselves apart and melted together into a new monster that called itself Ennard. How they head killed the other technicians and nearly killed Charlie but stopped. Evan had heard Charlie's voice break when she mentioned the monster had Michael's voice.

And then the monster, the horrible wire thing lured Elizabeth into the scooping room and ripped her to shreds. It had stolen his sister's skin.

He felt a bit vindicated, he was right all those years of Michael playing like he was some kind of saint. Refusing to kill, refusing to get blood on his hands even though he wasn't Michael with free will, she was Baby the killing machine.. 

He was getting spiteful, Charlie noticed. 

“Gosh Evan, I didn't know you hated Computer programming so much.” Charlie looked over nervous as the elevator door opened. Evan had let his mask slip that was bad.. 

“No I was just thinking of everything that happened, I'm So Sorry Charlie..” It was a good enough excuse and he was sorry. Evan knew he and Elizabeth were estranged and she hated him, but he hated the idea of something that horrible happening to her.

But he also had to admit he loved the vision of it. Blood and visceral everywhere organs spilling on the ground and Michael once again covered in blood. Evan thought of the years that he had spent checking the camera footage of Baby's room, to see the cowardly thing crying to herself or pleading for someone to acknowledge she was Michael. How she had refused to do the one thing she was built for.. and she still ended up covered in blood! since that was all Michael was good for getting his siblings blood everywhere 

The two of them stopped at number 5. Even if Charlie hadn't guided him Evan would know this was Elizabeth's home. A pride flag sticker was on the door. 

“Yeah.. Liz and Susie aren't exactly secretive about….” Charlie let out a small chuckle as she opened the door. Evan couldn't help it. He did too, her laughter even so small, sad and tired was infectious.

“What are you laughing at…” And there was Susie. Jesus Christ. Time had sculpted the Pink dress, wearing golden curls, Bible reciting, Susie he had known into a black clad, imposing woman. Evan could still see the traces of the shy, homeschooled, girl he remembered. But None of the kindness she had held for him as a child still lurked in her eyes.

“Nice to meet you again!” Evan put on his most charming smile, Reaching out his Hand to be shook. 

Susie just stared down at his hand, Her bright blue eyes looking at him with such hatred he almost feared that she knew how many lives his hands had taken. They stood there for a minute before Charlie broke the silence.

“Um.. Let's just go inside.. I can make everybody some coffee!” Charlie said nervously. Susie nodded sharply, moving out of the way so both Charlie and Evan could get into the apartment.

Evan stepped inside and he had to admit, the apartment was nice. There was a cozy old couch and armchair with a nice, if slightly rickety table to sit and have meals at. There were a couple shelves filled with records, a drum kit and two electric guitars. 

“Not fancy enough for you?” He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Susie's voice. 

“No, it's a nice place..” It wasn't the sort of place Evan wanted to live, but it seemed to fit Elizabeth, Susie and Charlie well enough. 

It was definitely nicer than his room back at his father's house. He hadn't changed it since he was carted off to the hospital on that fateful birthday in 1983. His father didn't let him change it.

“Yeah sure…” Susie sat down on the couch. Evan sat down on the chair beginning to hear the noises of Charlie making coffee in what seemed to be a small kitchen.

“Did you know your dad was sending my girlfriend, your sister, his f****** daughter down to Hell?” Her voice was accusatory and angry. Evan did know. Evan knew that place was a death trap, That there was a chance his sister wouldn't come out of there. But what was he going to do about it? it's not like he could change anything, like he could stop it?

“No! And I swear to God my dad didn't either! He's already having a discussion with the owners of rentals” Evan tries to believe the lie himself, tries to believe that his father didn't mean for his only daughter to die.

He did not know his father's plan but he had a feeling that Elizabeth was supposed to die down there.

“Susie, can we please not get accusatory! I know you're scared, I am too but Evan's here to help us fix this” Charlie stumbled in with three coffee mugs. Evan gratefully took a big long sip.

“I get it! you think he can help but Elizabeth doesn't want to see him and Elizabeth is the one who's..” Susie stops herself from saying that part. Evan can only imagine what it must be like.. He doesn't know much about their relationship other than it's romantic. To have your partner become a monster before your eyes must be horrifying. 

Susie and Charlie began to whisper. 

It was almost sweet.. To love someone that much, to be loved that much. Avenue nothing of love. He was almost certain he couldn't feel it, just another sign that he was broken.. He wondered if his father didn't feel love. He wondered if it was the bite that made another part of his brain broken.. 

The whispering stopped and Susie, her face still a mask of anger yelled out. "Liz! Evans here!”

Evan put on his best Charming, biggest, I've missed you sister, smile. As he ran through the possibilities of what his sister actually would look like. He wasn't good at the supernatural science of it all, but he had a basic understanding of how these things worked and Elizabeth's condition was nothing he had ever heard of.

There was a possibility that dad had just never told him about anything like this but he didn't think so. 

And then trudging out from the hallway which presumably led to Susie and Elizabeth's room came Elizabeth. 

Elizabeth trudged out with an angry look on her face. The first thing ever noticed was that his sister was missing half of her face. The entire skin on the right side of her face was gone revealing the bone. Her skin was also pinkish purple… And she was covered in.. 

“Sticky notes?” Evan said in confusion. Now that was a big slip up his first words were supposed to be something inviting, not sticky notes… He couldn't help it! He was surprised! Evan didn't know exactly what he had been expecting but not this…. 

“Sorry I was busy writing you know all of this being sent to my death by my father, seeing the kind of ghost of My Dead Brother and becoming a zombie business gave me some killer ideas for music..” Elizabeth ruled her eye and Susie let out a small chuckle 

Evan, cleared his throat 

“It's been so long, Elizabeth! I know it's under bad circumstances but still it's wonderful to be back together!” 

Evan hopes that his words were convincing enough. Despite not wanting anything to do with them, Elizabeth was still an Afton, so she was able to recognize manipulation but all those years away from father probably lessened the skill.

“Stop trying to be my brother.. Just get this over with so I can get back to songwriting and cuddling my girlfriend” Elizabeth looked away; she only had one eye now. And that one eye was filled with such hatred.

“Yeah and you better not tell any faz-themed lies you little company rat” Susie looked like at any minute if Evan said Susie deemed a lie, her fist would be planted in his shattered skull.

Charlie gave them both a stop fighting look before speaking 

“You work with William, you know something about the rentals and what happened to Michael right?” 

“Yes I do..” Now it was time for the lie.. Evan had been practicing this. His father had gone through the basic idea of what he was supposed to say but Evan had added on details..

“As you all probably remember, on the Opening day of Circus Baby's Pizza World there was a gas leak..” This he had gone through with his father there was never a gas leak. 

Most of the “gas” was just circus baby overheating and letting out excess smoke because her body wasn't built to fit someone of Michael's size 

All three of the women's faces fell dark. Evan could remember that day just like they did.. Smoke choking the air, children running in fear and Elizabeth stepping out of the party room covered in pizza sauce. It was really Michael's blood, but William had convinced everyone that the gas had tampered with Elizabeth's mind and she had just wandered into the kitchen and spilled tomato sauce. How poor little Elizabeth hadn't been able to understand what she had just seen and had begun to cry that circus baby ate Michael..

“But what you don't know is that the gas leak was caused by Michael…” Evan tried to look somber but he could barely hold in his grin. He had added this part. And the next one 

Charlie began to fidget uncomfortably. She had been closer with Michael than anyone at that time; this was going to hurt her a lot..

“He went mad I think quite a while ago.. Was convinced he needed to combine himself with the machines. Made an excuse of getting ice cream for you Elizabeth, then rigged circus baby so she would instead of handing out ice cream pull ice cream in and in this case he was ice cream..” Oh this was fun to see, the look on Elizabeth and Charlie's faces. He cared for them both but the way they liked Michael after everything he did made Evan's blood boil..

“No no you're lying! he wouldn't- I knew him! he-we had a plan! he wouldn't-” Charlie got up beginning to pace.

Evan just sat there trying to look sad. “I'm afraid it's true.. My father didn't tell anyone, fearing that him and Henry would be under more scrutiny and I know it's wrong! He regrets it a lot! but he was scared and sad and thought that was the best decision..” 

Evan spoke in a quiet voice trying to sound sad harder, since even though he was a good liar, seeing Charlie dislike Michael seeing her finally understand that he was a monster and a murderer made him feel good…

“So Michael went crazy and let out the gas leak and shoved himself in the robot? How does that explain him being a part of circus baby and appearing to Liz? Is he like haunting it or something?” Susie was the only one not having an emotional reaction to this; she hadn't known Michael. The only steak she had in this was her girlfriend's well-being.

“He was mentally unstable and scared and thought that was the only way he could be whole.. And yes I believe that in some form his consciousness lingers on and it influences Circus baby and the rest of the animatronics to be violent.. to do that..” Evan gestured to Elizabeth making Susie give him a death glare. 

This was sort of true. Michael was Circus baby and was fully conscious. But he wasn't responsible for the others' murderous programming, dad just made the funtimes like that.

“That's why they were locked up down there. That's why they're punishment was so severe, Michaels sou-if you want to call it that made them go insane…” Elizabeth nodded along quietly.

“It makes sense, He didn't seem that sound of mind when I saw him..” Elizabeth ran an unconscious hand over the entry scar on her back where the scooper had hit and that monstrosity had torn into her. 

“No, I know Michael! I knew him so well then!! We were close! If he was feeling like that he would have told me!? he would have said something, he would have like painted it or some s*** Michael doesn't-” Charlie looked around hoping for that hostility Susie and Elizabeth had to Evan earlier but his lie was good they knew he was right. 

“Look Charlie I'm not saying we trust the corporate asshat over there..But it seems to line up with what Elizabeth said…” Even though Evan hated being called a corporate asshat, She was on the right track or the track he wanted her to be on.

��May I continue?” The word sounded Melancholy as if he couldn't bear to continue telling the tale.

Charlie nodded, looking like she was about to explode. Evan went ahead quickly before Charlie could say anything else 

“But trapping a bloodthirsty animal in a cage makes it more vicious so All of the animatronics influenced by Michael's anger and Madness at time of death combined and used Elizabeth to escape..”

“Then I got moldy and they injected” Elizabeth added on 

“Exactly and here's where it all comes in.. You brought me here to find out more information and now you've got it! but we still have a murderous pile of wires on the loose, who's willing to do worse than what happened to Elizabeth in a heartbeat…And it still thinks like Michael in some weird twisted way so.. ” Charlie stopped pacing and stared in object horror at what next was going to come out of Evan's mouth. Evan couldn't help but smile here he had been waiting for this part, he'd been waiting to even do this since he woke up in that stupid hospital bed in 1983

“We need to kill it, And Charlie I need your help to get it done…”

[paramouradrift]

#Avatar BioShock Crossover AU" 2023 please!!!

This one's a doozy.

I don't remember precisely what triggered this one, but there was a period of a couple weeks last year where I got really into the idea of an Avatar/BioShock crossover AU. This spawned several AUs, only one of which made it into my WIP folder, apparently, so the rest must be lurking on discord with my beta reader. This particular AU has a few scant character notes, some timelines, and a discussion of themes that paint what I would consider a compelling but overly-ambitious picture.

The themes in play: destiny, causality, consciousness, free will, and moral choice. We are pulling material from BioShock, BioShock 2, BioShock 2: Minerva's Den, BioShock Infinite, Avatar: the Last Airbender, and Legend of Korra. Rapture exists in its own right, whereas Columbia is replaced with Republic City. Tears, Spirit Portals, and Spirit Wilds are all the same thing, linking Rapture and Republic City across time and space. Bending and Splicing are the same, as well, with the "Avatar" being someone who has spliced up to an incredible degree and not died of every kind of cancer. The Avatar State is thus a kind of berserk mode that uses up all the EVE in the Avatar's body, leaving them powerless and vulnerable at the end. Past Avatars exist as coherent ADAM ghosts.

Aang, in this story, is a Jack/Eleanor Lamb character originally from Rapture who escaped into Republic City through a tear, and set about trying to find a way back to Rapture's past to undo all of the damage he ended up causing. He's a man haunted by guilt whose efforts are ultimately futile, because that's not how causality works.

Korra is our Elizabeth, whose ability to open and close tears makes her valuable to Aang in his quest for redemption, but also makes her a target for everyone on both sides of the veil who wants a slice of the Rapture/Republic City pie. But opening and closing tears destroys entire sections of probability space, creating fixed points in spacetime and releasing a ton of spiritual energy that gets eaten by the bioluminescent mass that sits beneath Rapture, spitting ADAM slugs back out into the world, accelerating the chaos and decline of both cities.

I have here that Aang somehow travels back to the past and becomes the founder of Rapture, which means he later creates and then kills himself while trying to do everything he can to avoid that outcome. It probably made more sense in my head the time. The other members of the Gaang are listed as Rapture's Best & Brightest: Zuko and Sokka are divorced and miserable, with Zuko trying to be a single dad and Sokka inventing the Thinker; Katara is the city's foremost doctor and philanthropist; Suki is a detective/private security chief; and Toph runs the banks because nobody else is capable. She also laid a lot of the city's foundation.

The Mechanist is here inventing things. Wu is a popular singer with his own radio program. Suyin is a prima donna ballerina. Asami is...presumably doing something amazing, but I didn't write that bit down.

The villain rogue's gallery is all here as well, moving back and forth across the tears and causing mischief and mayhem. Zaheer's radical spirituality causes Aang (Rapture Founder) to ban religion, and Unalaq tries to get control of the Avatar Program so that he can become an Avatar himself. Ozai and Zhao extend their feelers throughout both cities, seizing power and resources for themselves. Amon slots himself nicely into the Atlas role (plot twist and all), so nothing really more to say there. Kuvira is apparently a former police officer turned mob boss capitalizing on the chaos for her own gain. Long Feng is a cold technocrat who runs a private security firm and manages assets for city big wigs. My note on him is "a less affable Sinclair."

Pro-bending/ADAM boxing is a thing, so Mako and Bolin are here trying to make it big in the big bad city/ies, which probably means I planned some background Wuko.

I have no idea what my endgame was. I don't know what the actual plot was going to be. This project wasn't one I seriously considered planning out in detail because I was in the middle of H&V/J&R work, and that takes priority over anything else with this level of ambition. Having said that, it might be interesting to take another pass at the concept and see if I can turn all of that up there into something workable.

WIP Game master post.

[arsonistbunny]

FNAF movie review under the cut (contains heavy spoilers)

Also, I wrote this right after the movie.

First of all. I loved the images. The probs, the animatronics, the looks were really good. I like the scenery, the composition, the mise en scène (I cannot find a word for it in English apparently you can say mise en scène too so take it. Directing would not be the exact translation of what I'm looking for, I think? I'm talking about visuals, not how the actors played even though they were ok).

Sadly I think that's the only point they nailed.

The scenario was... uh... like if a guy had to guess what FNAF was about? I have nothing against Vanessa being William's daughter but... Mike??? I really thought it was gonna turn out that Mike and Vanessa are half-siblings? (I thought Mike's dad in his memories could be his stepfather but he didn't know.) But then if he's not William's son... why was William like that when he read his name....??? (Because he recognised him as Garrett's brother? Mf really would pay attention to the names and family trees of his victims??? Stop googling shit and walk on set more often William)

Still scared of the thought that they could still make Mike and Vanessa end together please no-

I feel like breaking the family link between Mike and William breaks half of FNAF is about. The whole ordeal was that Mike was responsible for his brother's death and William also had responsibility which is kind of what happened but not exactly. Every fan feels like a part of why William dislikes his son is because he blames him for his brother's death. And here it's just. "Oh yeah I killed your brother lol. Anyway I don't really have anything against you personally. I didn't really think about you before last week."

Speaking of, William in the movie is so hollow. Like we got nothing. He kills kids. And then he has them kill some guys. He has a daughter he has scared into shutting up. He appears in his suit and immediately dies. Because of the cupcake of all animatronics - this is really funny in a sense seeing the cupcake so savage when in the games it barely does anything, it's just annoying in Help Wanted.

He's not even obsessed with bringing things to life or anything. He throws a "I always come back" out of nowhere, he could have gone "You think you can get rid of me?! I'll come back, I always come back." Which would have made more sense rather than having him saying the line without context.

Had a "he wouldn't do that" moment at the end when William stabbed Vanessa. He would not. hurt his daughter. :( not intentionally at least. I mean yeah I get she's not Elizabeth and doesn't have the same attachment but the thing is that William's attachment to Elizabeth is a big part of his identity too.

Now, it might have been because I'm an idiot who didn't eat enough before the movie (+ I had an upset stomach lmao) but the movie felt SO LONG. The good shit happens about 15 minutes before the end and lasts 10 minutes. The movie is 1 hour and 50 minutes long. It just goes back and forth very slowly to Mike finding out what happened and I feel he could have found out way sooner, leaving space for more plot twists or more action, I don't know.

I did like the portrayal of some characters. New characters like Abby, Doug and the teacher were so nice to see! I like that Mike is Mike in character like, yeah he would do that shit, and I think Josh was a perfect match too, but other than that he doesn't feel very much like Mike? Like who is he, he's not William's son, he's not motivated by stopping his dad just making it right for his brother.

Vanessa was pretty cool too. Like how she just keeps changing subjects to avoid answering Mike's questions. She's scared of the one manipulating her but ends up willing to face him with help.

The dead kids were on point! Personally, I love seeing Golden Freddy as a mad manipulative child with a bit of sadism. Would I have liked it better if he was a girl? Yeah but what can you do. Didn't think I would like how we keep seeing the ghost outside of the animatronics but that was actually very well done especially when the Foxy child steps back into Pirate Cove and comes out as Foxy.

About the horror, I saw some people complain that it wasn't scary, and they're right: it's not. I think it's made for a 13+ public, which is so good because I HATE gore in horror movies it's always free and feels cheap. But then again it was more like a teenager's first horror/thriller movie so it's more friendly than people would have expected.

Kept my eyes peeled for Easter eggs, and saw the motorride game thingy on the guy's sweater. Did notice all of the things that were ripped from the movie despite being in the trailers. William's humming of the Toreador... Why did you remove it.....

Oh, that reminds me why was Foxy's singing so wrong? He does not sing like that???

Didn't think that would happen but Matpat's appearance made me laugh especially since I did not recognize his voice at first so it was like a little jumpscare. Pretty sad other YouTubers/streamers' Easter eggs were not more seeable (like I knew whose photo was on the employee of the month thingy but I didn't have time to actually look at them in the movie). I know the taximan is also a YouTuber, never watched him but he's really good at acting and very funny! If they do more movies (which I'm not sure they would) I want them to bring him again.

There's this dissonance this William just like for Vanny. "Oh, you like the evil rabbits? Here is the merch! Lots of merch! Are you happy? Good! because there's no content."

Overall the universe's imagery is respected but the wiring is like the first Fnaf books, less wild maybe (Charliebot..) so if you didn't like the books like me you might not like the movie.

I'd give maybe 3 stars to the movie, mainly because visually it was almost perfect. Despite criticizing a lot, I'm still happy I went, because I wanted to see it and I kinda like a cinema treat from time to time.

[braveclementine]

Chapter 19

Warnings: None. However, future chapters will contain sexual content so readers that are under the age of 18 may have to skip those chapters (Please keep note of the warnings).

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

"𝕯𝖔𝖇𝖇𝖞. . . 𝕯𝖔𝖇𝖇𝖞. . . 𝕯𝖔𝖇𝖇𝖞!" Harry's voice kept calling out the dead elfs name. I didn't even have a chance to say or do a single thing to save the elf. I could only sink to my knees by Harry's side, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

Bill, Fleur, Dean, and Luna came over after some time, probably to assess if we were hurt since we weren't moving. 

Harry noticed them and said, "Hermione? Where is she?" 

"Ron's taken her inside. She'll be all right." Bill said softly. He glanced over at me, then back to the dead house elf in Harry's arms. 

Harry looked down at Dobby before pulling the sharp, sleek blade from his chest. He pulled his coat off, covering the small, childlike body with it. 

Bill made a few orders of the others. Dean helped Griphook into the house, Fleur hurrying after them. 

"We can bury him." Bill said gently to Harry. 

"Uh huh." Harry agreed, sounding distant. 

"Just give him a moment." I mumbled, wiping away the tears that were forming in my eyes. I really hated my pregnancy hormones. 

"I want to do it properly." Harry suddenly spoke. His voice was strained, full of pain, sorrow, grief, and guilt. "Not by magic. Have you got a spade?" 

Bill said nothing, only standing to go and retrieve the said spade, before returning to give it to Harry. 

I waited outside with Harry, the pregnancy spell having dropped since I was no longer apparating. I felt rather large as I sat there, on the rock, but I wanted to be here, since I couldn't help. Besides, I was going to have to sit through many more of these, I was going to have to get used to it. 

Eventually, Ron, Dean, and Trang joined us. Trang didn't have Remus in her arms, so I had a based assumption that my son was in the house. 

"How's Hermione?" Harry spoke the first words since Bill had left us alone. 

"Better, Fleur's looking after her." Ron responded, before the two young men simply jumped down into the hole with spades to help Harry finish the grave. Trang meanwhile, sat down beside me, resting her head on my shoulder. She had never met Dobby, but she knew how much the house-elf meant to Harry and me. 

When they were done with the grave, Harry wrapped Dobby up tighter in his jacket, Ron gave him his shoes and socks, while Dean placed a hat on his head. I slowly undid the scarf that was around my neck, handing it to Harry, who helped put it around his  neck. Trang produced gloves, which were placed upon Dobbys' hands. 

"We should close his eyes." Luna said softly. I flinched a little, my back having been towards them. I turned to see that Bill, Fleur, Hermione, Ron, Luna, and Trang were all there, Trang holding Remus in her arms. I felt a sudden, unwarranted stab of anger at Ollivander and Griphook. They should've been out here for Dobby's burial. 

Luna knelt down, her fingers moving Dobby's eyelids until they covered his glassy, unseeing eyes. I was suddenly struck funny by the realization that Dobbys' eyes were green. Maybe the universe had something against green eyes and they just all needed to die. 

Harry and Dean climbed out of the grave, looking down at the small body. I wondered if it would feel the same, looking at Dad and Tonks. . .  No they'll be fine. They'll be fine. I tried to convince myself, forcing myself to focus solely on Dobby. I had had a plan and Dobby simply had not worn the shielded clothes I'd created. Dad and Tonks and Severus would be different, I would deal with them directly, not second-hand. 

"I think we ought to say something. I'll go first, shall I?" Luna said, and then without waiting for a response, said, "Thank you so much, Dobby, for rescuing me from that cellar. It's so unfair that you had to die, when you were so good and brave. I'll always remember what you did for us. I hope you're happy now." 

"Yeah. . . thanks, Dobby." Ron murmured. 

"Thanks." Dean followed. 

"Good-bye Dobby." Harry said in a tight voice. 

Bill lifted the dirt with his wand, letting it settle into the hole, forming a mound of sorts. 

"D'you mind if I stay here a moment?" Harry asked as the others started to make their way back to the house. 

"Sure." Bill murmured, patting Harry on the shoulder. 

I hesitated, looking down at the rock I had been carving into a headstone with words carved into it. When I had been writing the words on it, they had made sense in my head, painting me a picture of sadness and yet love at the same time. Now, staring at the words, they didn't make any sense: 

𝒲𝒽𝓎 𝒹𝑜 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝒹𝒾𝑒 𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝒶 𝑔𝒶𝓇𝒹𝑒𝓃, 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝒸𝒽 𝒻𝓁𝑜𝓌𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝒹𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓅𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒾𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓈 ��𝓍𝒶𝒸𝓉𝓁𝓎

I scoffed silently to myself and dropped the rock in the dirt, walking past Harry, joining the others in the house, leaving my words to wear away for years to come. 

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

𝕴 𝖜𝖆𝖘 𝖆𝖑𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖞 standing in the foyer of Griphooks bedroom when Harry came up the stairs with Bill, Ron and Hermione. I went to stand aside, but Harry shook his head. "I want your advice in here." 

I glanced over at Hermione, who gave me a small smile.

"In here." Bill said, opening up the door to his and Fleurs' room. It was a beautiful room, with colours that matched the sea and sand outside. I realized now that I had never actually been to the sea, though I had always longed to go. I supposed I could make the most of this visit, though I now wished it was with Severus and Dad as well. 

Hermione took a seat besides the dressing table, Ron sitting on the arm of the chair. Harry moved to the window, turning his back to the beautiful view outside to lean against the sill, his arms across his chest. The familiar flicker of pain in his eyes told me that his scar was hurting again. I'm sure if I had still been wearing our mums' locket, I would've felt the same pain against my chest. 

Bill came into the room with Griphook in his arms, gently putting him down on the bed and Bill left without another word. Now that Griphook was in the room, I decided to sit on the loveseat, the babies in my stomach kicking hard now. I put a hand against my stomach, rubbing it gently, hoping it would soothe them. 

"I'm sorry to take you out of bed. How are your legs?" Harry asked. 

"Painful. But mending." 

I looked at the Gryffindor sword that the goblin held in his hands, clutching it with reluctance, as though he already knew what we were asking for, though I knew that wasn't the case. 

"You probably don't remember-" Harry started, but Griphook interrupted. 

"-that I was the goblin who showed you to your vault, the first time you ever visited Gringotts? I remember, Harry Potter. Even amongst goblins, you are very famous." There was a long silence, where the two of them seemed to be sizing each other up. I knew who won when Griphook continued, "You buried the elf. I watched you from the window of the bedroom next door." 

I bit my tongue to keep from saying something I wouldn't regret. I wouldn't even have to feel that I needed to berate him for not showing up to the funeral if I had just been able to save Dobbys' life. 

"Yes." 

"You are an unusual wizard, Harry Potter." 

Harry rubbed his scar as he questioned, "In what way?"

"You dug the grave." 

"So?" 

Griphook didn't answer, so I did. 

"Certain ah, species don't expect Wizards to take the time for a proper burial for those we are supposed to see as 'below us.'" 

Griphook gave me a look that said he didn't like my way of explaining it, but it had been the nicest way of putting it that I had been able to see. 

"Griphoook, I need to ask-" 

"You also rescued a goblin." 

"What?" 

"You brought me here. Saved me." 

"Well, I take it you're not sorry?" I heard the impatience in Harry's voice. 

"No, Harry Potter, but you are a very odd wizard." 

"Right. Well I need some help, Griphook, and you can give it to me. I need to break into a Gringotts vault." 

Ron and Hermione looked at Harry like he had gone mad, while Harry's eyes flickered just a bit. I hoped he wasn't in too much pain, but that was a big hope. 

"Harry-" Hermione started, but was interrupted immediately by the goblin. 

"Break into a Gringotts vault? Impossible." 

"No, it isn't. It's been done." Ron quickly backed Harry up. 

"Yeah, the same day I first met you, Griphook. My birthday, seven years ago." There had to be some sort of poetic justice to that. 

"The vault in question was empty at the time." The goblin snapped, clearly offended. "Its protection was minimal." 

"Well, the vault we need to get into isn't empty, and I'm guessing its protection will be pretty powerful. It belongs to the Lestranges." 

If Hermione and Ron hadn't been looking at him like he had a screw loose before, they most certainly were now, as they exchanged a glance. 

"You have no chance. No chance at all. If you seek beneath our floors, a treasure that was never yours-" 

"Thief, you have been warned, beware- yeah I know, I remember," Harry interrupted "But I'm not trying to get myself any treasure, I'm not trying to take anything for personal gain. Can you believe that?" 

"If there was a wizard of whom I would believe that they did not seek personal gain, it would be you, Harry Potter. Goblins and elves are not used to the protection or the respect that you have shown this night. Not from wand-carriers." 

"Wand-carriers." Harry repeated. 

"The right to carry a wand, has long been contested between wizards and goblins." 

"Well, goblins can do magic without wands." Ron replied. 

"That is immaterial! Wizards refuse to share the secrets of wandlore with other magical beings, they deny us the possibility of extending our powers!" 

"Well, goblins won't share any of their magic either, you won't tell us how to make swords and armor the way you do. Goblins know how to work metal in a way wizards have never-" 

"It doesn't matter. This isn't about wizards versus goblins or any other sort of magical creature-

Griphooks laugh made the hairs on my arms stand up. "But it is, it is about precisely that! As the Dark Lord becomes ever more powerful, your race is set still more firmly above mine! Gringotts falls under Wizarding rule, house-elves are slaughtered, and who amongst the wand-carriers protests?" 

"We do! We protest! And I'm hunted quite as much as any goblin or elf, Griphook! I'm a Mudblood!" 

I felt uncomfortable with both her words and the way she sat up straight, her eyes bright and passionate. I physically cringed where I sat, feeling weird about it. 

"Don't call yourself-" 

"Why shouldn't I? Mudblood, and proud of it! I've got no higher position under this new order than you have, Griphook! It was me they chose to torture, back at the Malfoys'!" 

I thought for effect she might pull her robe arm up, to show where Bellatrix had carved the word 'Mudblood' into her arm. Considering that would've had greater effect to punctuate her words. Instead, she simply showed the thin line across her neck, not to deep, and already healed into a scab. 

And don't get me wrong, I'm sure that hurt like a bitch. But I feel that the dramatic effect would've been a lot better. 

"Did you know that it was Harry who set Dobby free? Did you know that we've wanted elves to be freed for years?" Ron fidgeted and I rolled my eyes. "You can't want You-Know-Who defeated more than we do, Griphook!" 

True. I definitely wanted revenge for my parents and for ripping my entire family apart. 

"What do you seek within the Lestranges' vault? The sword that lies inside of it is a fake. This is the real one. I think that you already know this. You asked me to lie for you back there." 

"But the fake sword isn't the only thing in that vault is it? Perhaps you've seen the other things in there?" 

"It is against our code to speak of the secrets of Gringotts. We are the guardians of fabulous treasures. We have a duty to the objects placed in our care, which were, so often, wrought by our fingers." 

He stroked the sword as he spoke, his beady black eyes darting between the four of us. 

"So young, to be fighting so many." 

"Will you help us?" Harry asked. I could hear a baby start to cry downstairs and knew that I needed to depart. "We haven't got a hope of breaking in without a goblins' help. You're our one chance." 

"I shall. . . think about it." Griphook said. 

"But-" 

"Thank you." Harry said softly. 

"I think, that the Skele-Gro has finished its work. I may be able to sleep at last. Forgive me. . ." 

"Yeah, of course." Harry said, leaning forward and taking the sword of Gryffindor from where Griphook had laid it down. The four of us left the room, my skin prickling as I turned my back to the goblin. 

"Little git, he's enjoying keep us hanging." 

"Harry, are you saying what I think you're saying?" The crying grew louder. "Are you saying there's a Horcrux in the Lestranges' vault?" 

"Yes. Bellatrix was terrified when she thought we'd been in there, she was beside herself. Why? What did she think we'd seen, what else did she think we might have taken? Something she was petrified You-Know-Who would find out about." 

"But I thought we were looking for places You-Know-Who's been, places he's done something important? Was he ever inside the Lestranges' vault?" Ron asked. 

"I don't know whether he was ever inside Gringotts. He never had gold there when he was younger, because nobody left him anything. He would have seen the bank from the outside, though, the first time he ever went to Diagon Alley. I think he would have envied anyone who had a key to a Gringotts vault. I think he'd have seen it as a real symbol of belonging to the Wizarding world. And don't forget, he trusted Bellatrix and her husband. They were his most devoted servants before he fell, and they went looking for him after he vanished. He said it the night he came back, I heard him." 

He rubbed his scar. Trang came up the stairs, carrying Remus, who had stopped crying so loudly, but still whimpering slightly. 

"I don't think he'd have told Bellatrix it was a Horcrux, though. He never told Lucius Malfoy the truth about the diary. He probably told her it was a treasured possession and asked her to place it in her vault. The safest place in the world for anything you want to hide, Hagrid told me. . . except for Hogwarts." 

"You really understand him." Ron said after a moment, as I took Remus into my arms. I bounced him just a little, before looking up. 

"Well, and also Bellatrix and him had a daughter together." I said nonchalantly, without thinking really. 

"He what?" Ron exclaimed vehemently and Trang choked out. 

"I thought it was obvious." I said, then cooed to Remus, "Let's go down and play with toys." I turned and walked back down the stairs, Trang tailing me closely. 

"What was that all about?" Trang asked. I explained the conversation to Trang as we made our way to the living room, before turning to other conversation as Bill came into the room. 

"I suppose you can't tell me what you're doing here either?" Bill asked. 

"Oh, actually, it's quite simple. You-Know-Who was going to be where Trang and I have been hiding out. We left hours prior to that visit, and I figured here was a good place. Sorry for the intrusion." I explained quickly, putting Remus down on the floor now that he'd stopped crying. I had brought a few of his favorite toys with us, and I put them down next to him now, which he immediately picked up and started to play with. 

"It's alright, I'm just glad you guys are safe." Bill said, still surveying me as I gingerly sat down on the couch, putting a hand over my stomach. "Er- Snape?" 

"Oh, uh yeah." I mumbled quietly, not meeting his eyes. "Twins, possibly." 

It was silent for a moment and then Bill said. "I get it. I mean, not Snape, hearsay, but uh, the love part. . . it's hard to stop loving someone who already had your heart." 

"Yeah, it is." I murmured. 

"Your rooms are upstairs." Bill said. "We put you and Trang in with Hermione." 

"Thank you, Bill." I said softly. "We appreciate it." 

Bill nodded and then continued on his way. 

"So what's the plan?" Trang asked lightly. 

"We pretend we're on vacation. Spend our days down at the beach, help cook and clean so we're not overbearing guests, and then a week before Harry and the others leave for Gringotts, we'll leave for Hogwarts. The future there is a little fuzzy admittedly, but it seems like a sound plan." 

"Understood. I'm going to go lay down, I'm pretty tired." Trang said softly, standing up. She squeezed my shoulder and headed upstairs. 

I continued to sit in the living room, lost in thought, until Harry strode out of the house, Hermione and Ron tailing after him. 

Flashes of visions played in my head. Severus was bustling down the steps of Hogwarts. . . meeting with Voldemort. . .Severus headed back up the stairs after Voldemort instructed him to do so. Severus would attempt to look out the window, see what the Dark Lord was doing, but he could not see him. . . he had casted a Disillusionment charm. And Harry was telling Ron and Hermione the same things I was seeing. Ron was bemoaning the fact that they hadn't gone after the wand. 

But everything would work out somehow. I could see the vague image of a person finishing Voldemort inside Hogwarts. Which would most likely take place in June although I didn't know the exact date. It could even possibly be late May. I was only predicting June since all of our other escapades had happened in the last month of school. 

I stood, gripping the couch arm as I felt the dizziness of doing so. Black dots danced across my vision and I waited until they were gone to move again. I made my way up the stairs and into the bedroom.

Trang was fast asleep and I saw that Bill had fashioned a makeshift crib in the corner for Remus. I laid my son down in the crib, putting the small blanket over him, tucking his favorite stuffed animal in with him. 

"Goodnight sweetheart." I murmured, before climbing into the bed closest to him. 

I fell asleep quickly, big green eyes imprinted against my eyelids and Dobby's voice echoing in my ears. 

⬅️➡️

[unhingedhearties]

I'm Not Even Supposed to Be Here Today

I should be getting ready for a big family event (that of course has to happen while the new season airs. Good thing there's space on the TV to record the rest of the season) but then THIS catches my eye, and I can't not share it:

I see the name Writer Janine so I know this is going to be good.

Oh! It's been a post or two since I've explained it, so here's a refresher for those who don't know who Writer Janine is. Writer Janine is the Heartie who wasted no time calling Lucabeth breaking up a massacre right after a real world massacre happened and when asked to rethink her choice of words since it was grossly inappropriate, doubled down because the slaughter of innocent people half a world over means nothing to her.

Never. Ever. Forget. That.

So this is what this brilliant mind wrote:

You'll notice a lot of the same words get reused. Hmm... I feel like I've pointed this out before 🤔

Wow, it's almost like Mei and Mike are in love or something. It's almost like Mei's only ever been in an abusive relationship and Mike's in his first real relationship and they're both nervous and happy about it. But other people (real or fictional) can't be happy. That's not allowed! Not when Team Lucas fans are still hurting 7 freaking months after their soap opera didn't end the way they wanted.

Bill Avery... lousy inspector *literally travels to the scene of the crime & figures out Pike's testimony doesn't add up with nothing more than a stopwatch and his own 2 feet.*

😂 This woman watched WCTH, believes this and actually thinks she's a writer. It's like a dog thinking it's people.

disloyal, disloyal, disloyal etc...

Janine, this show doesn't take place on Kashyyyk and the cast isn't made up of Wookiees. No one has a life debt to Lucas. Especially when they've known Elizabeth far longer. And yes, Lucas is a fraud, a crook and con. I'm sorry him being interesting triggers you this much. We like us some bad boys here, not neutered down tea sippers. It's time for him to dip into the whiskey and have a real drink like a man's man.

Little Jack easily transfers affections from his dad for half his life to mom's new guy.

Okay, I've got to say this first. White Americans have the weirdest relationship with the concept of "community". You all claim to want it, you cry about how it apparently doesn't exist anymore, you idolize some long-gone concept of community from "the good old days", but when you actually see what a loving, supportive community of people is (usually from *gasp* large immigrant families) you fall apart. Community isn't going to your mega church once a week to gossip about which families looked at you the wrong way or aren't raising their children in a way you approve of. It's family and friends you trust pitching in, going out of your way to lend your time and help when someone needs it instead of just sending "thoughts and prayers", and doing what you can to create a positive environment not just for your kids, but all the kids around you. Especially with kids that are experiencing difficult circumstances like, I don't know, one parent leaving or dying. Like Elizabeth and LJ.

I remember 30 years ago when people were quoting the phrase "It Takes A Village To Raise A Child" like they were profound scholars, but never put it into practice because the reality of what that means sent them into a tizzy. That's why I love Faith looking after Lilly and the whole Daycare Center plot. Everyone pitches in to help the kids and community grow.

A four year old boy having several positive male role models in his life isn't going to harm him. Lucas wasn't LJ's "dad" for half his life, he was his buddy. And his buddy is still a positive influence in his life. And if it surprises you that LJ has affection for the Mountie that's kind to him and shares the same job as his biological father, I don't know what to tell you (besides that you're a shit writer if you didn't see that coming).

Anyway, how about some of the responses:

Oh Lynne, you sweet summer child. I wish I had your optimism.

Oh my God, we're still doing this!?

Team Lucas Stop Deflecting And Actually Address The Horrible Behavior From Your Side Challenge: Impossible.

Stop. You do not want to be this kind of person. You need to stop ignoring when a handful of people you agree with do awful things and you need to stop bring up the awful behavior of the handful of lunatics from the side you hate as deflection. If you live your life like this, it will come back to bite you in the ass. If you really want to keep acting like this though, I have no problem pinning the reprehensible behavior of people like Janine and Liz onto all Lucas fans. If you want to be this way, I can start saying all Lucas fans think the massacres in the middle east aren't that big of a deal and that Ben Rosenbaum raising money to fight MS really pisses them off. The choice is yours.

"talks down on her ex's love language"

AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! I've ranted enough on this post and don't have time to go into this, so I'll leave it up to people who have said it before and better than I could: Love Language is bullshit part 1

Love Language is bullshit part 2

Love Language is bullshit part 3

Love Language is bullshit part Just Go Here

[lucreziaq2001]

•TV show: "Criminal minds".

•Content warnings: A teenage girl's death, a mother losing her only child, a son losing his mom at a very young age, both of them still missing the girl, mentions of electroshock and the marks it left on people, the possibility of the girl having died because of it and the hospital staff having gotten rid of her body, the girl wanting her mom to take her home and the mother being unable to because of something her daughter's boyfriend had decided, the girl trying to run away from the hospital but being unable to, the girl being considered mentally ill because she is gay, her having cheated on her boyfriend and her mother at first thinking they were doing the right thing for her child, but now feeling guilty about leaving her.

•Some of the lines are almost the same that are in a scene of the "Cold case" episode this story is inspired by. I did modify them a bit, though. I didn't just copy and paste them.

•I'm sorry if Emily and her mother are out of character. I just thought it made sense for the story to make them the way they are in this chapter.

•Tags: @lex13cm, @golden1u5t, @avis-writeshq, @rynwritesreid, @chrrysgirl, @amerrymango, @marie-sworld, @iluvreid, @babygirl-garcia, @hugyourlungs, @strangermoonlove.

The bridge to Heaven

Chapter 15: A mother's guilt

Two days later, as soon as the retirement home the woman lived in was opened to visitors for the day, around 10 am, David and his wife went to visit Elizabeth Prentiss.

Part of them didn't want to bother Emily's mother again by bringing memories related to the death of her only child to light, but they knew they had to do it if they wanted Elizabeth to know the truth and Emily to get justice.

When they arrived in Elizabeth's bedroom, they found the woman sitting on the sofa next to her bed, with her grandson Declan next to her.

Although he was over 40 years old and also a father by that time, the man was crying desperately, while his grandmother held him in her arms.

"I know she cheated on him, but it was just a kiss, nothing more. Why did Dad have to send Mom to that place? I want my mom" Dave and Erin heard him say through his tears, and their hearts broke for that man who inside, was partly still a small child hoping his mother would come home.

"It wasn't about the kiss, Declan. There was a lot more to that situation. Your mum wasn't sick, but at the time she was believed to be. I'm very sorry" Elizabeth tried to explain, great sadness evident in her voice.

Then, when she looked up and saw Erin and David, she let her grandson cry some more for a few minutes, then she asked him to leave the room while she talked to the writer and his wife.

"We know what happened to Emily" David told her as soon as Declan had left the room "Not the whole story, but most of it. Why did you agree to send your daughter to Brockview?".

"I thought I was doing the best thing for Emily, but when I went to visit her a week after her hospitalization, I realized that wasn't the case" Elizabeth explained "As soon as she saw me, my daughter started screaming and crying, begging me to take her back home. She wanted to come back to me, but Dr. Kearns wouldn't let me take her away. Apparently, Ian had asked him to give only him the chance to get Emily out of there".

"And how long did she stay there?" David asked her.

"Seventeen days, then she died" Elizabeth replied through the tears that were now running down her cheeks "She had tried to escape a couple of times, it seems. Once they caught her and brought her back, the other time she gave up herself. She was probably afraid that I would agree with Ian and send her back to that place. That's why she didn't come to me".

Instinctively, without even thinking about what she was doing, Erin took the woman's hand and squeezed it.

She was a mother too and although she didn't believe she could have been capable of sending one of her children to such a place, she empathized with Elizabeth Prentiss a little and had compassion for her.

She couldn't even imagine what it was like to live with that guilt for all those years.

"Thank you for your help, Mrs Prentiss" Dave then told her, before saying goodbye to Elizabeth and leaving the room with his wife.

"They gave her that dress at the hospital" was the first thing Erin said to her husband when they got to their car "The electroshock explains the marks on her temples".

"During that therapy something went wrong and Emily died, and then the nurses got rid of her body" David responded, thinking he had finally found the solution to that case.

Unfortunately, however, even if only slightly, he and his wife were still off track.

[arcplaysgames]

You're not my dad, bro

I think Nanako is maybe everyone's dad though, lmao. "Are you causing trouble under my roof, father? Are you starting shit? 'Cause I'll end it."

Thanks for the assist, Nanako. She is singlehandedly going to keep this investigation going just by providing cover for me and my dipshit crew who bring fucking full sized katana to the food court.

uh.

holy shit

It is after dark. I just went up to my room to sleep. and my homeroom teacher is calling me and asking me to meet him at a gas station.

right sure okay i'll just go do that, that seems normal and not likely to end in a third fucking murder, yep sure, just gimme a sec to run up to my room and jot down my final will and testament, i'm sure nanako knows where the nearest notary public is in inaba and is willing to get it signed for me, mmhm

BRUH WHY ARE YOU CALLING ME AFTER DARK AND MAKING ME COME OUT TO GIVE ME THIS, IT IS A SUNDAY NIGHT, SCHOOL IS TOMORROW, YOU WOULD HAVE SEEN ME

breathe

its fine. okay.

anyway. after that brush with death, yosuke and chie talk about their shadow selves and note that Reverie didn't have one before attaining his Persona. Now, Yosuke thinks Reverie got his persona outside the TV!Saki Liquorstore, but we know from being the player that Reverie had Izanagi in a dream the first night after arriving in Inaba.

Which. Yep. Pretty weird. Metatextually, we could be Shadow Reverie, but that doesn't seem MegaTen's style. I hasn't known one to tap on the fourth wall in that specific way yet.

Whatever, I'm not going to guess this from the start. As long as it's not Ryoji again, I'm fine with it. We can literally only go up from Ryoji.

Chie's the Chariot. That tracks. Forward momentum at all costs. The Chariot is meant to learn to wield the reins, unifying conscious and subconscious to gain more control. I'm cool with this.

Velvet Room. The spoiler-free walkthru I'm using (I heard a suggestion to use it for the first month just to learn about various mechanics bc P4G has a LOT) had me leave and re-enter, and Marie seems just thrilled to bits to see me. At this point, I am becoming inured to the fact that literally no one is nice ever in this town. SIGH.

Marie is... not of man. Okay. /blinks

What is the Velvet Room... Margaret says everything that occurs in here is tied to our destiny and specifically the contract we have to fulfill. In P3P, no one but FeMC could see the Velvet Room, and in P4G, same case.

Nngh this is the kind of thing I wanna crack like an egg but the answer genuinely might be "this place is a vehicle of the story (pun intended) and exists to facilitate it."

So the Velvet Room is Atlus. There, I solved it. Quod erat demonstratum.

Because Marie is "not of man" (a term Margaret pointedly refuses to elaborate on) I should take her out to explore the world outside, apparently. Like my dates with Elizabeth in P3P.

Please don't blush, you're a bit too tsuntsun for me right now.

Margaret also calls me the next morning to talk about quenching my heart's yearnings, so I think she wants me to go find Akihiko and cry into his ample pecs until he hugs me because I am SO ALONE in this town.

But first I have to join a sports club. And culture club? I have zero recollection of these. I think I may have even skipped a sports club in my initial PS2 playthru bc I'm petulant and hate sports. Buuuut I need S-Links.

So:

do you know akihiko gives good hugs? i mean that's why he spent three years in boxing club, right? to give better hugs?

you know who i know gives good hugs? Mitsuru. she'd pull a whole jennifer lopez "come into my coat" thing, i bet you

[countessofravenclaw]

1 and 7 for the drabble prompts <3

I wish we could talk more often. Let me hug you

"Did I mention yet that we got invited to a wedding in a month?" Nina said as the girls were driving back after their shopping session.

"No, whose?" Luna asked her from the front seat.

"Well, technically I didn't get invited anywhere," Nina clarified, "It was for Gastón and plus one. The wedding is Isla's goddaughter's. Full-on black tie, very big event. The family is apparently some older Columbian family who nowadays live at little bit north of Buenos Aires."

"Huh, do you remember the name?" Ambar questioned, "I don't think I know any Columbian families."

"Gastón said that he didn't remember how his parents even know them. Elizabeth Gomezelia, I think." Nina tried to remember. "Uhm... Gastón said that she apparently used to have a crush on him when they were 13... they haven't talked since."

"At least this is for her wedding and not some other attempt to reconnect," Ambar remarked.

"Oh, I am not threatened or anything like that. I already have the ring." Nina laughed, "We actually already sent the RSVP that we're going. I need to remember to talk to Jazmin about this."

"Gomezelia..." Luna mumbled all of a sudden. "LIZZIE! Oh my god!"

"Luna, you okay?" Ambar asked after scolding Luna about never scaring the driver.

"Yes... but I just realize... Lizzie. When we still lived at Cancun before Sharon bought it, it was the vacation house of this Columbian family. I used to play with their daughter often. Her name was Elizabeth. Nin it has to be her." Luna explained, "I wonder how she is doing. I don't have her contact, but I would love to catch up."

"Well, I can ask Gastón if he has her contact," Nina suggested.

*

"Luna?!" Luna saw a blonde woman enter Jam & Roller where she had been waiting. Nina had gotten her Elizabeth's contact and they had set up a meeting. "It really is you! It has been years!"

"Lizzie!" luan bounced to meet her, "Let me hug you!"

"It literally has been over ten years." Lizzie said as they sat down with smoothies, "How are you here in Buenos Aires?"

"Mom and Dad got a job her in 2016," Luna explained. "I thought you lived in Columbia."

"We moved here a year after they sold the mansion. How did we never run into each other?"

"I did upper secondary at Blake South college," Luna continued selling tales, "I am a professional rollerskater now, and I work here occasionally to train teams."

"Well, that is not a surprise." Lizzie nodded, "I went to a boarding school, and graduated as a cosmetologist last year. I am hoping to open my all salon. Well, after the wedding."

"I heard about that. Congratulation!"

"Thank you. I could say the same for you." Lizzie looked at the ring in Luna's finger. "How did you get my number? Don't get it wrong, I love to meet you again, I always wished we could have talked more, but my number has changed at least twice after Cancun."

"I heard you know the Peridas," Luna explained, "I got it through them."

"Yes, Isla Perida is my godmother. I was christened a little bit later on when I was 9. How do you know them?" Lizzie's eyes went to Luna's ring again. "He... He is not your fiance, is he?"

"Who?"

"Gastón Perida."

"Oh, no no no no no no no, no." Luna burst out laughing, "Could you even imagine?" Once Luna got herself under control again, she looked up and saw Lizzie's perplexed face.

"Gastón is my best friend's husband." Luna took her phone out and showed Lizzie one of the pictures that had been taken at Gastón and Nina's wedding. "Nina told me about your wedding invitation and I recognized your name from there."

"World really is small." Lizzie shook her head laughing. "Only thing I have heard if him through the years is that he was at Oxford."

"Oh yeah, they moved about 1.5 years ago. He is Matteo, my fiance's, best friend."

There we go! I don't know how many people remember the Columbian girl Sharon though was Sol for a slip second, well here is a reunion

[snapheart1536]

Bad Arguments

Elizabeth I

She Never Said Nuffin!

Every excuse defends Seymour:

Me: Oh no! He's breaking into her room again!

Them: Listen up, stupid: Girls Could Marry At Twelve.

See? Stepdaughters are fair game now I've said that.

DON'T JUDGE HIM.

But damns Elizabeth:

Me: Poor baby. I do feel sorry for her.

Them: Um? She Was An Adult.

AH-DULT.

You know, gagging for it.

If she didn't totally want rape she would've done the honourable thing and died at birth.

Bitch.

Amazing how their oh-so precious Context always absolves him of guilt, yet brands her a whore in the exact same Perfectly Normal situation.

Funny that.

Now you forgot all about Elizabeth begging Seymour not to touch her and take this seriously like a true pearl-clutching Intelleckchul, for this line pops out when the other two don't work.

WELL! Well! I mean...well!

Well...she...she...She Nevah Sed Nuffin about it, did she?

Ah! Ah! Well that just shows, doesn't it!

Why are they so adamant Elizabeth enjoyed sexual abuse?

No matter the evidence we give, it's NEVER enough, yet we're pressured to accept the most warped readings of history as true.

All so they can vilify a thirteen-year-old girl.

Class.

Apparently Elizabeth not rushing down the pub and giving it good gossip about her uncle-step-dad feeling her up is proof positive she loved every minute; saying nowt precisely so the happy days just kept on rollin'.

Otherwise all those innumerable, ultra-powerful killjoy relatives o' hers might swoop in and put a stop to it, the bastards.

Strange. I thought staying silent was the textbook reaction to child abuse.

Nah. Turns out behaving like your typical victim proves it was never abuse at all.

Mmm-hmm.

I'm wondering now what evidence is acceptable, if even the tell-tale signs of distress aren't enough.

Why, nothing! Nothing at all!

Yeah. A girl whose mother and stepmother were murdered on false charges of sexual shenanigans naturally should've gone round bragging how she was on the receiving end of 'em for real.

As that'll turn out well.

Weird, innit? She grows up knowing society kills women for adultery, and then gets desperate to preserve her own reputation.

Come on, love. Lighten up.

What's the worse that could happen?

Nope. No downsides here.

Yet who was she supposed to tell?

DUH! Her parents, dummy!

But they're dead.

...

Well OBVIOUSLY her guardians.

But they're the ones molesting her.

...

AH! AH! How about her brother, eh? Eh?!

You want a thirteen-year-old girl to explain to a nine-year-old boy how his uncle and stepmother are interfering with her body?

AND for this to go through his other uncle, and thereby spread about the court?

...

OH! Whaddabowt Mary?! Ah, you forget that!

So she'd side with Anne Boleyn's daughter in a 'sex scandal', would she, withstanding all the resulting controversy whilst fully convinced of her innocence?

As if!

You're telling me Elizabeth had NO ONE to turn to, but should be ripped apart anyway?

For they can't sympathize on instinct; she's gotta earn it like a dog, jumping through an endless line of ever-shrinking hoops, which she doesn't even know are there.

It's up to her to fulfill their impossible demands to 'deserve' pity.

And THIS is moral righteousness?

But the worst part?

Abused children live in shame and terror, convinced they brought it on themselves and won't be believed.

Then here come the 'experts' blaming adult perversions on Elizabeth for turning twelve, interpreting everything she did in the worst light to justify their own raving hatred.

In doing so they confirm the fears every victim feels, perpetuating pædophilia by keeping the suffering silent.

[percontaion-points]

Lifeblood chapter 20

Today's review might be difficult for some; reader discretion is advised

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Chapter 20

My parents were good to me...at first. The older I became, the more involved they became in their work. Dad was a representative in the House of Myriad, helping to pass realm laws for humans. Mom had her paintings. One day, I woke up, cooked my own breakfast and realized I had been raising myself for years. 

They spent time with me only when I required discipline, and the knowledge had hurt. Badly. I’d become an afterthought to the people who were supposed to love me.

Not only that, but they were still expecting for her to blindly follow in their footsteps simply because they demanded it? Yet at the same time, couldn’t be bothered with their own child? 

It’s even worse when you think of how the book is trying to redeem Ten’s mom. Like sorry that you started having second thoughts, but it’s literally too late. Especially when you remember that mom broke the law and had a second kid, but subjected said BABY to a life of suffering, and almost immediate death. A LITERAL BABY. 

At sixteen, I became a bargaining chip. Because of my supposed Fusing with a Myriadian General, the realm offered my parents more money, more fame—but only if I made covenant. I wasn’t a daughter. I was a key. 

I’m pretty sure that I said this a lot during the first book, but not one single person seemed to give a shit about Ten. They only wanted her power, and the things that she wanted to do didn’t seem to matter. 

Look me in the eye and tell me that Troika gives a shit about Ten’s wishes. They talk an awful lot about free will, yet demand that she go into the field after like a week of training. 

“And my dad? How is he?” 

“He’s being trained as a Laborer, but not with the new arrivals. He has a private tutor because he’s on the fast track.” 

I’m not surprised. At the end of his Firstlife, my dad’s love for me—if he ever really loved me—had darkened into hate. He blamed me for the loss of his fame and fortune, and paid to have me killed.

I enjoyed how Myriad had branded daddy dearest as a traitor who tried to get around the child clause in his contract by having a second baby. But all of that was apparently for show, since they’re treating him WELL in Myriad. 

“Any leads on the spy?”

 “Nothing yet.” 

Who could it be? Kayla, Reed, Deacon, Victor? I trust them. Elizabeth? I would love to blame her. Levi? Even though I’m angry with him, he doesn’t strike me as a fox but a shepherd. He fights foxes, keeping them away from his flock.

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but the entire idea of a spy is acting like nothing is wrong. Even if you’re sometimes acting against the side that you’re spying for in order to maintain your cover. 

So literally any one of those could be a spy. 

He can’t pass through the Veil of Wings to reach me in Troika, but I suspect he would try if he thought I was in trouble—try until he died.

Chapter 20 summary: Ten and Killian start making out on the patio of the French cafe. As he pulls her away to somewhere more private, Ten randomly thinks about how shitty her parents were. Not only at the end, but how neglectful that they’d been before that. 

They start making out in an alley, but then they move to the cave that they camped out in right after Killian and Archer helped Ten escape from the asylum. There, they continue to make out. Killian eventually stops her, and says that he doesn’t want their first time to be when they’re wearing their shells, which is fair. But it’s also kind of a terrible thing to say, especially since he’s still refusing to deflect. 

Killian tells her that Levi comes to him sometimes. But during their last chat, Levi told him that he’d found a barrister for Ten’s mom, so now her trial is going forward. Ten is relieved to hear that, and asks about her father. He’s basically being treated super well, which pisses Ten off something fierce. 

They talk about the Troikian spy. Killian says he kidnapped Victor to prove that he wasn’t the spy. But even after all of that, he’s still not convinced Victor wasn��t somehow getting messages out while in captivity. He also says he didn’t wipe Victor’s memory, which is super suspicious right now. 

He goes on to tell her that he knows that the souls in Myriad are not resurrected. Ten says she thinks that they end up in Many Ends, but he isn’t sure about that. He explains his reasoning in the resurrection thing in explaining about his mom. His leaders had been hedging around about the new identity of his mom, which was frustrating him to no end. So he looked up the info on his own, and went to visit this woman. Except he knew that it wasn’t her when she tried to sleep with him. Ten isn’t sure about that, since Killian died when he was a baby; he never knew his mother, so how does he know that she wasn’t a slut? She goes back to the Many Ends thing, and describes the lake that she, Kayla, and Reed had to swim through to get to Myriad. Killian is lost in thought, so she thinks that there’s a similar lake in Myriad. 

Before they leave, he gives her a Pi necklace, with an emergency beacon connected to him. She gives him the gun-ring Meredith had given her. 

[hearts401]

THIS IS SO LONG SO ITS UNDER THE CUT

just me rambling about the afton fam

I just think they were incredibly distant.

Evan was miserable with nobody to help him.

Michael hated his father and his little brother and just had a group of friends that were just as horrible as he was. (I don't think they pressured him/he felt pressured to be their friend by the way. I think that removes a lot from Michael's character and development.)

I don't think Lizzie liked her brothers (Don't quote me I haven't looked at Sister Location in a while) I think she was more interesting in impressing her father and maybe friends at school.

And of course no mom y'know.

William didn't care exceptionally about his kids. he wanted them to not cause trouble, but nothing is normal in the Afton family.

then Evan dies, Michael has caused a world of problems for William. lizzie wasn't super close but he was still her brother and she'll never look at Michael the same which drives her closer to William and impressing him and then Elizabeth dies.

and not only does William have ANOTHER problem caused by his kids he probably didn't even want (why did he even have 3??? Dude, you do NOT like kids don't lie to yourself)

And now its just him and Michael.

Michael whos ridden with guilt, who just lost his little sister, and his father whos horrible and hates him and he knows that.

and then his father dies and even that doesn't bring peace to him.

After all they are still the Afton's.

Back to Evan, he loved Lizzie and talked to her sometimes but he knew she didn't click with him. she didn't like the same things, and she had friends and was closer with their father, something Evan could never achieve as much as he tried.

He didn't get why his older brother hated him, he didn't know why. He didn't do anything wrong, and he certainly didn't understand why it was so funny.

Oh yeah and the nightmares. (Or fear gas, or illusion discs, or whatever it is)

He died not understanding why any of this happened to him.

He wasn't even mad, just confused, and id say that's worse.

Then Lizzie. She wanted her father to see her. She wasn't interested in her brothers, because they didn't get her. And she didn't care anyways, she had friends, but what she wanted was her dad.

She knew Michael was mean, but what could she do about that anyways?

Well you can imagine how that feels when Evan DIES because of Michael's bullying.

Genuinely how can you look at your big brother, the oldest, the one who's supposed to love his siblings unconditionally, after he kills your little brother. The one who was crying all day and all night, the one who was never happy. Nobody liked him. Apparently neither did fate.

And then her father makes a big party for her. He makes a robot for her! A whole robot! Because he loves her and he sees her and he won't let her go see this beautiful robot made in her image. But how she wants to.

Oh and then she dies too. And she's stuck in the basement(?) alone.

But Michael comes back, and she can use that. He's here for her, isn't he? Just like Circus Baby was.

Forget Evan, she can leave. She can just be free and find her father and they'll be happy together.

As if Michael would let her near William again.

And I have a million things to say about Michael so I probably won't get to all of them but like...

Michael was a jerk. I don't like anything being "behind" what he did. He was just a teen who didn't get enough attention from his dad and took it out on his brother because he thought it was funny (idc if there's canon stuff behind it, I hate when characters have a "reason" to be a bad person. It feels like it's overshadowing their actual development.)

And he takes it further one day and then boom his brother is in the hospital. All he can do is go to visit him and apologize.

And then he's gone. He's dead. And it's all Michael's fault.

His sister won't look at him, and his Father meets his eyes with disdain. He's a problem, and he's alone. Then his sister dies and shit gets weird.

And now he has to fix it. All of it.

But no pressure.

if i wrote the afton family the way i think they actually were id make myself cry

[yesimwriting]

Would you write a Kaz Brekker request where the reader is a bookworm and a crow and basically Kaz asks the reader to read to him as his way of apologizing after a argument that was his fault?

 it ​​a/n i did something kinda similar in a 'promise of rain' blurb,, but this concept is so cute to me:)) love it sm i moved it up my request cue lol

also IM IN COLLEGE NOW!! WHAT?? AND IVE BEEN TO A PARTY! AND IM JOINING A SORORITY AND I DID DRAMA AUDITIONS AND AHH !! SO DIFFERENT! I MISS MY MOM AND SISTER AND DOG AND EVEN MY DAD BUT IM HAPPY HERE!! 

also im a little worried this might not portray kaz superrrrr accurately bc it's been awhile so just let me know,, feedback leads to improvement:)) also kinda set this up for a part 2 bc...well youll see 

--

They've always said a lot of things about him, and I've always heard them. But I've never quite believed them. Sure, I get why the dark things that have flourished in the poisoned soil that is Ketterdam consider Kaz Brekker the darkest thing of all. I understand the nickname 'Dirtyhands' for the gloved criminal who has fooled each crime boss at least once. I understand each terrible thing they've said about him.

But I've never agreed with them. I've never even considered agreeing with them. Until today.

The thought that maybe everything people say about him is correct in a simple context struck me worse than the silence after our argument. It made me feel like both a fool and hypocrite. Kaz and I have had our fair share of spats over the relatively short time we've known each other, but never like this. Never so badly he stormed out of the room before I could. I squeeze the book in my lap even harder, desperate to focus on the words on the pages.

You didn't hurt him. He walked away because he decided you weren't worth the cost of his expensive time. I repeat those thoughts in my mind over and over again, letting them bitter me further. It's a lot easier to be mad than hurt. A lot easier to fuel your pain than try to understand your mistakes. Besides, tiredness is already dredging around in my chest and if I don't calm down a little I won't be able to fall asleep.

I had escalated the fight more than I should have. Knowing Kaz is like performing in a tightrope act. One must always be aware of where they're going. Watching what's in front of them without ever thinking too much about what's beneath or behind them. Today though, when I needed my balance most I chose to fall. I chose to dive, and apparently there was no net.

"Oh, you're doing that thing."

I roll my eyes at Jesper's voice as I fight down a yawn. I wipe my face with the back of my palm before turning. The burning behind my eyes never resulted in full tears, but I feel better after doing so. "What thing?"

"That terribly noble thing where you find it in yourself to take full blame for every single conflict you and boss man fall into." The slight humor in his voice is enough for me to roll my eyes again. "Between you and me, I'm sure the reason he's so angry now is because you didn't do that for once."

I press my lips together as my chin angles itself upwards slightly. "I never do that." He raises an eyebrow. The slight sympathy that colors the look is more offensive than his accusation. "If I pick and choose my battles, it's for good reason."

"Clearly."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugs once before further entering my room. I say nothing when he sits at the foot of my bed. "Oh, you know," Jesper stretches back casually, resting his back against the wall and extending his legs, "You and Kaz--Kaz and you."

Has he been drinking? Perhaps he's not here because of my unusual absence from downstairs after my fight with Kaz but because he's already too tipsy to think right. "What?"

At my confused look he grins, flashing all of his teeth with an arrogance that outshines the whiteness of them. He taps the still open book in my lap. "Let me put it in terms you'll understand." Jesper sits up a little further, amusement clear in his features. "You two make a shameful Elizabeth and Darcy--"

"Oh, shut up," I groan, glaring at him, "This isn't Pride and Prejudice. And Kaz and I," Jesper's smugness returns when I can't quite think of what I want to say, "We're barely friends--we're barely anything, let alone what you're implying."

Jesper pulls his legs up and shoves me gently. "Dearest, y/n," he ignores my glare, "You should know better than anyone that 'barely friends, barely anything' with Kaz is more than it is with anyone else?"

"That doesn't mea--"

"You two say goodnight to each other." Once. Kaz and I said good night to each other in front of Jesper once. How dare he assume it happens regularly? He's right, but that doesn't mean I'm okay with it. "You play cards with him. Not for money, not for skill--"

"It's for practice." The look Jesper gives me is enough to tell me that my defense didn't land.

Damn him for ever finding Kaz and I on one of those strange nights. One of those nights in which he lurks at the stairwell...the one that divides my room and his attic. One of those nights in which it feels like he's a phantom and I'm the only one that can really see him. A night in which we both silently find each other.

I couldn't quite believe it the first time it happened. I'm not exactly a Crow--I don't feel enough a connection to the Dregs to join them without some kind of guarantee--but I was needed for some obscure job. but I was needed for some obscure job. The Crows needed an insider who could blend into high society, and I needed a place to stay away from my father.

It worked. I worked. And with each passing day I found myself enjoying the Crows more and more. That's why I stayed. That's why I started checking the stairwell practically every night, a set of playing cards in my hand.

The first time had been awkward. I couldn't sleep and my room felt too quiet, but the rambunctious club felt too loud and a little unsafe considering the hour. So I settled for the only space in between. When Kaz found me sitting on the steps and playing a solitary card game I had been so stunned by embarrassment I just offered to deal him in. I had been more shocked when he silently accepted my offer.

"Practice?" Jesper repeats. "You were laughing, I heard you."

"That was one time--how do you know we didn't just happen to play cards together the one time you saw it?"

"Because you laughed about a play you considered 'predictable'."

Sighing, I sit up a little straighter. "I'm not having this conversation. Occasionally saying 'goodnight' to someone who lives in the same space I live in and sometimes playing cards with said person because we both happen to be up at a certain time doesn't mean anything."

"And the way he looked at the contact that was flirting with you?"

Oh...this conversation again. "For the last time, the contact wasn't flirting with me. We had to dance to blend in and when he leaned towards me to whisper in my ear...it was to tell me the intel Kaz just had to have."

"And when he tucked that strand of hair behind your ear?"

"He just wanted to sell our cove--"

"Y/n, he kissed your cheek and I'm fairly certain he would have kissed you if Kaz and I hadn't made it to the corridor at that second."

Why is everyone so obsessed with what would have never happened? The contact had been attractive, tall with fair eyes and hair. But it's not like I feel anything for him, nor would I have been so foolish during a job. A fact that Kaz refuses to believe. I'm tired of this argument...I'm just tired. This job required me to start getting ready early in the morning and lasted long into the night.

"I wouldn't have kissed him and even if I had, the fact that Kaz is so mad about feels...sexist." A stupid argument, considering that Kaz couldn't care less if the person he's working with is female, male, or anything in between because the only thing he cares about is profit. "It's a stupid thing to be mad about, but you hit on anything with a pulse at any time and--"

"I resent that--"

"For the first two weeks I was here I thought you might've been a prostitute."

I can feel him holding in a laugh. "Did you at least think I was a good prostitute?" When I glare again, he finally actually laughs. "Not the point--got it."

"Then what is the point? You're bored and obsessed with gossip so now you're shaking me for information you don't need."

"The point is you're oblivious." Rude...I move my leg in a weak attempt to push him off my bed. Jesper catches my ankle easily, ignoring my attempt at a fight. "You thought the contact was only doing his job and you don't know the real reason that Kaz blew up at you for the first time the way he blows up at everyone."

"Okay, well since you know everything, tell me why he's mad."

He lets out a sigh like he can't believe I even needed to ask that. "It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy."

...Maybe he is drunk? "Don't be so cryptic. I don't like you enough to put up with that."

Jesper half-sighs again before pushing himself off my bed. "I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that."

"Asshole," I mumble instinctually as he walks towards my door. "Are you not telling me because I tried to push you off the bed?"

He turns when he reaches my door in order to lean against my door frame. "It's not not because of that." I should throw my book at his head. "In all seriousness, think about it. If you don't you'll either kill each other or kill me."

Ugh...he's so confusing. This time, I let him go. He leaves he door open, which is beyond annoying. I stand up to close it, promising myself I will focus on my book the second it's in my hands again. As I walk back towards my bed, my eyes land on the deck of cards on my nightstand.

Does it send a signal I don't want to send if I don't go the stairwell tonight? Do I want to send a signal? I don't know...actually, the only thing I know is that I don't want to think about this a second longer. I don't ease as I read, but my eyelids become heavier with each word they cross. I feel the weight of them as my focus slips, farther and farther away until I can no longer focus. When my eyes fall shut I can't bring myself to think or force them open.

--

I notice my surprised before I register that I've just woken up. Falling asleep feels so far and yet the crick in my neck confirms the obvious. Rubbing the eyes with the back of my hand, I push my book from my lap and sit up. The only indication of how much time has passed is how much my bedside candle has melted.

How long have I been asleep? How did I manage to fall asleep? I thought I was too mad at Kaz to manage anything but pouting in my room. I hadn't even decided if I wanted to talk to him.

I stand even though I haven't decided anything. I should at least change if I want to go to bed. But is leaving this alone for even longer a bad idea? I think Jesper thought so...though my conversation with him is far from clear. It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy. I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that. What does he want me to do with that?

Maybe he was partially intoxicated and felt the need to play the role of a good friend. Or maybe this is his idea of a joke.

Whatever--regardless of Jesper, I have a choice to make. A tiny part of me hopes it's insignificant, but I know Kaz enough to know that nothing is insignificant to him. He holds onto things the way he holds onto his kruge. Perhaps I'll seek out Inej, she seems to be the best at rationalizing. Though she might be asleep by now, or on a job or...I don't even know.

How late is it? Is it late enough to be one of the few hours Kaz claims to reserve for sleep? Maybe my bad luck is still around and he's already in bed for once. Does that mean his anger will extend to tomorrow?

I shouldn't care. It's not like I'm in the wrong. Did I escalate things? Maybe a little...but I won't apologize for defending myself. Even though that makes everything a little easier. I feel stuck, like in some kind of place of half sleep. A single knock at my door is enough to make me want to jump. I rub my eyes a little more firmly in hopes of waking up more before someone sees me.

I approach the door without worry. Maybe it's not as late as I assumed. Or maybe it's really early? I open the door while still fighting against my slight disorientation. I'm so focused on acting normal, I almost don’t register the person standing at my door. 

I don’t know who I expected, or what--maybe Jesper, much more tipsy than he was before, slumped against the doorframe, only knocking because he’s too tired to push the door open. Maybe even Inej, on her way here to deliver some kind of job or notice of dismissal. But it’s nothing I could expect. It’s...Kaz. 

The Dirtyhands stands at my door, expression as hard as ever yet something behind his eyes that burns the sleep away from me. “Uh--hi.” I bite my tongue to avoid cringing at that very awkward beginning. “Are you here to kick me out yourself?” The only response I get is the slightest shift of his gaze off of my face. “No? Well then I think I’m going to bed. It’s late.” 

My tone and words are clear. Get out of my doorway, I’m in no mood to go back to arguing.  When he still doesn’t say anything, I’m emboldened by my nerves. I push the door between us without breaking eye contact. 

Before the wood can meet the doorframe, he moves his cane, wedging it between us. “Y/n.” I don’t understand the way he says my name, but I’m certain he’s never said it like that. “I...” When he’s not prompted by the uncomfortableness of silence, I raise an eyebrow, my grip on the door tightening. “What I said shouldn’t have been said.” Wait--is he admitting fault? I’m so thrown I almost melt entirely. “Not to you.” 

The addition leaves him so lowly a part of me wonders if I’ve imagined it. I’m so thrown by it I don’t even think to reply until a long second has passed. “You seemed to believe the opposite a few hours ago.” 

His lips press together for a moment. “You didn’t ask me to play cards tonight.” He took that as intentional? At least that got me some kind of apology? I keep my mouth shut, greed making me want more information. I guess he must sense my silent tugging because he head inclines slightly. “Don’t push.” 

I fight down a grin. “Push what?” His only response to stiffen further. “I’m going to tell you something as a peace offering.” That seems to intrigue him in some way. I can’t tell if it’s a good kind of interested, but I note the slight raise of his eyebrows and his intentional silence. “I didn’t chose not to ask you to play cards.” He gives me no indication of anything, which is fair...considering my vagueness. “I was mad, obviously, and in the middle of deciding on a course of action...and then I fell asleep.” 

A long pause of silence. “You fell asleep?” 

I’m not sure if his incredulous tone should offend me or not. If I wanted to lie, I’d like to think he knows me well enough to know that I’d have thought of a better excuse than that. Or at least a less embarrassing one. “Yes, it’s not that difficult to believe. Today had been long and all I wanted to do was read, but then Jesper came in to say the oddest things and then leave me to...” 

Oh--oh. I guess there’s a reason people say to ‘sleep on’ something. Because now, actively remembering Jesper’s words for the first time since I fell asleep...I understand what Jesper was implying in the oddest way possible. He meant that Kaz and I...that perhaps there is a Kaz and I in a context that’s more than just grammatical. Wow. I really had to realize this with Kaz right in front of me. 

My face feels warmer than it did before, an irrational bout of anxiety forcing me to consider that me might be able to read impossible, embarrassing thoughts from my expression alone. 

“What did Jesper say?” I’m too lost in my own spiral of confusion and panic and some feeling I can’t recognize to register how Kaz asks his question. There’s an edge to it, an odd one, but that could easily just be Kaz. 

This is most definitely the last conversation we need to be having. I’m still mad at him for his earlier dramatics. So I just shake my head, feigning an exhaustion I could lose myself in. “Nothing and everything all at once.” I resist the urge to rub my eyes again. “I’m pretty sure he was drinking, and I wasn’t really listening. I was just trying to read.” 

Kaz’s expression hardens briefly as he takes in my words, and then he exhales, nodding once with the breath. “What were you reading?” 

My lips part instinctually, ready to spew off details about the latest novel that’s captured my attention. But before I can let myself take off, the reality of the situation strikes me directly in the chest. This is not Nina, or Inej, or even Jesper after what he considers a ‘good night’. This is Kaz Brekker, the man believed to not have a soul. I’ve spoken to him before about casual things, though most of the nights in which we end up playing cards or just sitting near each other are spent in silence. But he’s never prompted me before. Not in the one topic he knows is guaranteed to turn me into an overenthusiastic, gushing fountain of poor summaries and character analysis. 

I guess this is his peace offering. This shouldn’t warm the way it does. He was still unbelievably dramatic and treated me like I’m some kind of unreliable fool. “It’s late, and you know how I can be. I’d hate to keep you for nothing more than a poor summary and honestly, an embarrassing rant about plot or characters, because there’s just nothing as frustrating as when two people so clearly care about each other and both are too stubborn and oblivious to acknowledge it.” 

Kaz’s eyebrows draw together just enough for me to be able to make out a shift of expression in the poor light. Perhaps his lingering irritation is preparing to rear its ugly head. The corner of his mouth seems to threaten to tilt upwards as Kaz angles his head to the side slightly. “I can’t imagine that position.” 

No kidding. I bite my tongue to keep the sarcastic comment and awkward laugh that would sure follow it away. “Who can? That’s like half the point of reading.” 

How can interaction feel so over and just at its beginning all at once? I press my lips together to avoid filling the silence with things I’d no doubt instantly regret. It’s easy to be mad at Kaz in the moment. Too easy. But to stay mad at him when his temper has passed and he returns with some kind of begrudging and admittedly awkward and uncertain truce is another task entirely. 

“I’ve never understood your attachment to written words.” 

“It’s not about understanding, it’s about everything else.” 

“And you say I’m cryptic.” Is he...kinda almost joking? I straighten my spine, too tired to fight and too wounded to forgive. “There’s understanding in everything, nothing can survive on sentiment alone.” 

“If you read the way I did, you’d understand.” 

His lips press together as his expression remains unwavering in its hardness. “Read to me.” 

...Interacting with Kaz in any way often leaves me feeling like I’m wandering through unknown territory. But this, this is undeniably different. So different I can’t even think of a way to react. I watch his expression as cautiously as possible. He’s purely reserved, no distinction from the look he wears during business propositions. Except there’s a tightness I can’t quite understand.

Maybe it’s because I don’t want to fight anymore. Maybe it’s because exhaustion is leaving me partially delirious. Or maybe it’s the weird feeling in my chest that I can’t quite place. That I don’t want to place. “Okay.” I shift carefully. “If for no other reason then to prove you wrong.” 

Never did I think I’d end up in the position of sitting in my bed, book in hand, with Kaz Brekker sitting next to me. But here we are. I’m so tired, I almost let out a nervous laugh when he first walked in. So brooding and tall, gripping the head of his head cane as he sits at the foot of my bed, on my pastel quilt. 

I’m glad for the excuse to keep my gaze away from him and on the words in front of me. I read out loud, feeling more and more comfortable with each page I finish. But as my inhibitions slip away, so dos my hold on consciousness. My eyelids seem to grow heavier with each word that I read. 

“You’re falling asleep.” 

I straighten my spine on instinct. “Am not.” I’m not sure why I feel the need to deny something so simple. 

“You’re impossible.” 

From him, that statement is laugh worthy. “I’m impossible? Do you not remember earlier today?” 

From the way his jaw locks, I realize that he’s in no mood to be light about this topic. I don’t understand why. It’s not like I’m the one that wronged him. “I remember your lack of focus.” 

Keeping my hands at my side to avoid rubbing my eyes, I frown. “If you want to have this argument again, fine. Jesper is more ‘distracted’ than me half the time and you’re much more lenient on him. It’s not like I was flirting with someone or gambling or doing anything but having a two second conversation. One that I needed to have to get information that you wanted.” 

The last time we fought, I had more energy to restrain myself. This could be atomic. I hold my breath, waiting for Kaz’s retaliation. He exhales, eyes not meeting mine. “Arguing with you when you’re present is exhausting enough. It’s not worth it when you’re half asleep.” 

This angers me further. I hate that he’s right. “I’m not half asleep.” He leaves it at that. I glare even harder at him, slumping further into my bed. “But for the sake of argument, I’ll drop it. Something you’re incapable of doing.” 

At that, his eyes meet mine. I try to hold his gaze, but the harder I think about not seeming tired the more exhaustion slips in. A yawn escapes me before he looks away. Great. “I know when to lie in the grass in wait.” 

Rolling my eyes, I shift back slightly. He’s incapable of being less dramatic than this. Still, I can’t imagine the effort it’s taking on his part to not start an argument. Maybe this is why Jesper spent so long implying that there may be a Kaz and I in any capacity beyond a vague kind of friendship. “I’ll admit you’re tactful.”

“Resourceful people recognize that trait in other people.” 

Blinking twice, I lower my book slightly. Am I truly exhausted, or did he just compliment me in a way? “Careful, I may start to think you find me tolerable.” 

“Let’s not exaggerate.” Okay, now I know I’m exhausted because I think he might have just attempted a joke. Rolling my eyes, I decide not to acknowledge this lightness in fear that I’ll scare it away. “Y/n?” 

I press my lips together, worried about the destruction of our peace. “Yes?” 

“What did Jesper say to you? Earlier?” I pause, slightly unsure why we’re moving backwards. 

We’re in a decent place now, and I’d hate to ruin it. I’m too half asleep to lie eloquently. And it’s not like he’s an easily convinced man. “Oh, he said it so cryptically it took me longer than it should have to understand. And it didn’t help that it was something so...well, you might find it funny. As funny as you find anything, anyways.” Wow...I’ve spent such a long time talking. Rubbing the back of my eyes, I avoid his gaze. Exhaustion and awkwardness mix in my stomach oddly. “It seemed like he was trying to imply that you and I...me and you...” Why is this a difficult thing to say? It’s not like I was implying it and Jesper’s known for his oddness. “I think Jesper was implying that there was a you and I, or at least that there could be.” I’m too lost in a haze of almost sleep to watch his reaction. I let my head rest against my headboard even further. “Isn’t that odd?” 

He’s quiet for a long second, and then he finally speaks again. “Odd, even for Jesper.” The response doesn’t satiate me...what’s that about? I exhale, deciding that feeling is tomorrow’s problem. When I blink, I decide to let my eyes stay closed. Just for a moment. The sound of something shifting is what makes my eyes squint open. Kaz is standing, his expression unreadable as he straightens. “Goodnight, y/n.” 

At that, I sit up slightly, ignoring the exhaustion behind my eyes. “I haven’t finished the chapter.” 

“You’ve convinced me of enough.” A concession? How exhausted do I seem? My lips press together as I think of my next argument. Before I can get it out, Kaz leans forward. He grabs the quilt at the end of my bed and tosses it onto my legs casually. “Goodnight, y/n.” The meaning of his repetition is clear. His word is final. 

I find enough energy to manage a glare, but I pull the quilt over my legs anyways. “Goodnight, Kaz.”

[therealvinelle]

do you think carlisle wanted to be a dad or was dadhood thrust upon him

The latter.

He never shows any particular longing for children. When Rosalie speaks of her childlessness, she brings up Esme as one who wanted kids and is making do with the Cullens, not Esme and Carlisle. Carlisle doesn’t go full Father the way Esme does Mother, either, the parent-child dynamic that we see between Billy and Jacob or Charlie and Bella isn’t there. He treats his children like cherished and respected adults who sometimes need guidance, not quite kids. (More on this below.)

He doesn’t seem particularly drawn to kids, either, he lived in Volterra for decades yet his relationship with Alec and Jane is nonexistent, and whenever he meets up with Siobhan and Maggie (Maggie being 15) it’s Siobhan he focuses on.

Plus, and I know no one will be with me on this, but he just doesn’t have the vibe.

To backtrack a bit, how did Carlisle become the father figure in the Cullen family in the first place?

He never set out to become Edward’s father. He turned Edward because he’d grown attached to Elizabeth Masen, and she asked him to turn her son. After that, Carlisle looked at Edward as a potential vampire, and saw all the things Edward could be - a friend, a brother, or a son. He was willing to be a father, but brother or partner would have worked just fine by him as well. Edward got to choose which it would be, or rather Edward decided upon waking up: he took one look at Carlisle and said “yup, that’s my Heavenly Father”.

Then we have Rosalie, she could have been his sister, niece-but-not-daughter-figure, or friend-of-the-family-who’s-part-of-the-coven. Point being, she didn’t have to become his daughter, and yet she did. I can only assume that, like Edward, she chose it. As she found her place in the family, sister and daughter was what felt right for Rosalie in relation to Edward, Carlisle, and Esme.

Then Emmett entered the family, he was Rosalie’s husband, so son to Carlisle and Esme and brother to Edward it is. Alice and Jasper arrive, alright, guess we’re playing house! The coven leader and his mate are mother and father now.

Now, I don’t think the Cullens are secretly not a family, that the whole thing is a front brought on by contrivances. They make it clear again and again that they see each other as family, and they prove several times they’ll go to bat for Edward. And since this is a post about Carlisle I’ll stress that he even refers to newcomer Bella as being like a daughter to him.

The coven has its dysfunctions, yes, anyone who follows my blog knows that I think it’ll break up sooner or later, but that doesn’t delegitimize what they do have.

I think Carlisle is the father figure because that’s what the Cullens need him to be.

Edward was orphaned and alone in a brave new world, and immediately latched on to Carlisle. This isn’t the post to get into their relationship, suffice to say that he needs Carlisle to be his father and would not cope well with Carlisle saying “Fatherhood, huh, woof. Yeahh about that, kid...”

Of course, Carlisle thought of him as a potential son before turning him, but all the same this turned out to be what Edward needed.

Rosalie and Carlisle's relationship is also best reserved for a post of its own, but in a nutshell her parents were social climbers who viewed her beauty as their ticket up the social ladder:

“It was my mother’s job to keep our house — and myself and my two younger brothers — in spotless order. It was clear that I was both her first priority and her favorite. I didn’t fully understand at the time, but I was always vaguely aware that my parents weren’t satisfied with what they had, even if it was so much more than most. They wanted more. They had social aspirations — social climbers, I suppose you could call them. My beauty was like a gift to them. They saw so much more potential in it than I did. 

 (...) 

[I was] happy that my mother was proud of me and that my father liked to buy me pretty dresses. (Eclipse, page 90)

Enter then Carlisle Cullen, who has no interest in her beauty, no ambition on her behalf. He gave her this life she never wanted, yes, but in doing so he also saw something in Rosalie Hale that was worth it all, that he wanted to keep around for eternity.

Rosalie was very happy with her life, but even when reminiscing about how amazing it all was she is able to recognize that her parents loved her beauty, not so much Rosalie herself. Did she want that affection, of course, what child wouldn’t. But, I find the fact that she let Carlisle become her father telling.

I think he’s the father she wished Mr. Hale had been.

Alice is... complicated, but a big part of what she gets from being with the Cullens, from the high school routine and all the clothes, is personhood. She’s an inhuman entity with no memory of being human, and her visions make her even less connected to the physical world than other vampires are. How do you carve out a sense of self around that?

To her, performative humanity as a Cullen is just that, it’s her getting to be a person.

In that regard, having Carlisle around as a person to relate to, a father figure to give Alice Cullen the person substance, is precious.

Jasper doesn’t need a father, but he is in need of guidance and a confidante. Carlisle is implied to be this to him in Midnight Sun, when Jasper needs to be talked down from doing something rash and Alice’s response is to put him in Carlisle’s office and wait for Carlisle to come home and talk sense into him. Carlisle just smiles wryly and trots up the stairs to do what is apparently the not unheard of Jasper wrangling. I can see why the father/son thing comes naturally to them.

I think Renesmée to an extent will also fall under the umbrella of Cullens who act like baby birds around Carlisle, as explained in this post.

Emmett and Bella have no such void being filled by Carlisle. Do they see each other as family, sure, Emmett especially considering how many years they’ve been together. 

(Also, yes I’m aware I didn’t include Esme’s relationship with the kids in this post, that’s not to dismiss her but because anon didn’t ask.)

[samnyangie]

It’s from a book called ‘conversation in the wings’ by Roy Harris; it’s a transcript of the interviews he had with actors and this is the section of rsl.

Just a warning it’s quite long.

(Source)

________________________________________

1994: CONVERSATIONS IN THE WINGS

The Author's Intentions Are Good

by Roy Harris

Conversations in the Wings

1994

This interview took place on Friday, May 24, 1991, on the Mainstage at Playwrights Horizons where Jon Robin Baitz's The Substance of Fire was playing. Considering that he is the youngest person who talks here about acting (he was 22 at the time of the interview), it is remarkable that Robert Sean Leonard speaks with so much ease and apparent knowledge on a subject that can be as elusive as this one. The clarity he has as he discusses how he works on a role is not unlike the focus he brings to the characters he creates on stage. At the time of this interview, Mr. Leonard had recently finished a run of Romeo and Juliet for the Riverside Shakespeare Company.

Roy Harris: So let's start at the beginning. If you get a script and you read it and say to yourself, "I've got to do this," what makes you feel that?

Robert Sean Leonard: Well, that's hard to say. It depends on if you're reading for a certain character-I mean, if you're not sure who you're going to play yet. I guess I read specifically for the author's intentions of the play.

Roy Harris: Do you ever take a role-maybe it's not so wonderful-to be a part of that writer's particular world?

Robert Sean Leonard: Oh, yes. But if the play is important to you and that moving to you, then a small role becomes important because of what the author's saying. I'll be doing Our Town in London this fall and early winter. George is a very nice, I thought, young juvenile role to do. But then I read the play again, and I was astonished at the simplicity and importance of Wilder's message. Suddenly, George became much more important to me. I realized his place in that world, and it was big. If you look at the play, no one talks to each other. Except for the soda fountain scene. And there they talk. That's why they get married. Seeing this made playing him exciting. The way George has to deal with life and death is amazing.

Roy Harris: When you decided to do, for instance, the Greek pianist Alexandros in When She Danced, what made you make that decision?

Robert Sean Leonard: Joanne Woodward told me I had to do it.

Roy Harris: That's a good reason; she's very smart.

Robert Sean Leonard: Well, that play defined the undefinable qualities and questions about what I do as an actor. And I'd never seen that in a play before. So, I guess it was both things: the play itself and what a wonderful character.

Roy Harris: When you were working on Alexandros, what did you find the most challenging thing about it?

Robert Sean Leonard: Oh, come on, Roy, you remember?

Roy Harris: Well, I have to ask you now as if I weren't there. I'm an impersonal interviewer now.

Robert Sean Leonard: His incredible self-confidence. The guy walks into a room and you look at him. I've never been able to do that. I've seen other people who have that. And, it's not a quality you can play. It's not like an accent. It's a within quality. And you're in awe of it when you see it.

Roy Harris: Well, you have a quality as an actor of self-effacement. Do you think you had to get past that, go beyond it in some way?

Robert Sean Leonard: Oh, yes, but what a time I had working on it. It was a breakthrough for me. Sitting at that piano, standing up and saying, essentially, "I am a prodigy." I would say it in the mirror at home and I couldn't do it. It goes against everything you try to be as a human, as an actor. To never assume you know because then you'll stop growing. That was completely foreign to me.

Roy Harris: Did you feel you were the right choice for the role?

Robert Sean Leonard: Oh, yes.

Roy Harris: Me, too. It has to do with the other quality we talked about: something reserved and thoughtful. If you don't have that, then the sureness of Alexandros will be obnoxious.

Robert Sean Leonard: What was fascinating for me: to have an amazing bravura, and at the same time, as Quixote says, to have the humility to "love pure and chaste from afar." To love purely requires a lot of humility. It goes against the bravura. With Alexandros, I had the humility, but as you know, it took weeks and weeks to get the right assertiveness.

Roy Harris: It was fascinating watching it happen. All right, let's back up a minute. You got that role a couple of weeks, at least, before we started rehearsal. What sort of work did you do, if any, before the first day of rehearsal?

Robert Sean Leonard: Well, the bravura element didn't even occur to me until I started saying the words out loud in rehearsal with the likes of Marcia Jean Kurtz, Elizabeth Ashley and Jonathan Walker all sitting there watching me. Actually, the thing I dove right into was the Greek accent. That sort of gives you a center. It's a tangible task. And you have to accomplish it in a certain amount of time. The accent gives you a guideline. You go to the dialect coach and you sit down and start. "No," he says, "the A is pronounced this way. It's always pronounced this way." It was so refreshing to have a guideline as your beginning point. Otherwise, where do you start?

Roy Harris: Did the actual pronunciation of particular words tell you anything about who the person was?

Robert Sean Leonard: I would say the rhythm of it more than the pronunciation of it. The clipped musical rhythm gave me a sense of his spontaneous movement, his vital energy. There's a snappiness to Alexandros, which I really don't have as a person. Something happens to you when you get to have that snappy, clipped musical speech coming out of your mouth. You change inside.

Roy Harris: Let's say it's Thursday night and tomorrow you're going to work on the scene where you introduce yourself to the translator, Belzer. What sort of ordinary, basic work do you do on the scene?

Robert Sean Leonard: You know, the first time this ever came up was when I was doing Beachhouse with George Grizzard. I was sixteen. I was up there one day doing it, you know, just doing it, and Melvin Bernhard the director said, "What are you doing here? What is this about?" And I had no clue. I was just asking my dad where the letter was. Well, he said, "Do you have any assumptions about it? Who's it from? Is it from your mother? If so, what would that mean to you?" When I went home that night, I wanted to quit the business. I cried. And to this day, it's always an obsession of mine-not getting general and relying on some phony charm. What I want to do is get specific and ask myself the necessary questions: what is his intention here? what's he after? why? So, to answer your question, I read the scene, trying to pick out where they're starting, where they're heading, and how they got there. If something changes, where does it change? However, I usually find out more in rehearsal than at home.

Roy Harris: Sometimes, do you find after a rehearsal or a series of rehearsals on a particular scene that there's more there?

Robert Sean Leonard: Oh, sure. The more you work, the more you find. You can be hitting your head against a wall, as I was with Alexandros, and the director can say, "It's because you're not as confident as he is." Like any trouble you have, once you define it, it's so much easier to deal with. Then you know what you're after.

Roy Harris: Do you try to look and see an intention in every line, or a basic intention in a scene?

Robert Sean Leonard: I'm sure that you should, but I've found that there's a level of subconscious work that goes on. I find that it's much better for me to find out what's there with the person in rehearsal. It doesn't mean I don't I really think about it before though.

Roy Harris: Would you say-I'm asking a loaded question now-that you are more an instinctive actor or one more given to plan?

Robert Sean Leonard: I think I'm more instinctive than planned, but both, I guess.

Roy Harris: From having watched you in two different rehearsal situations, I'd say you seem to have done a lot of work when you came in.

Robert Sean Leonard: I would say that's basically true. But there are all sorts of ways of being prepared. For instance, take Romeo. My God, I spent hours just finding out what all those words mean. And then, with Shakespeare, it's so maddening because one thought can mean many different things. You don't have to choose one. Another form of preparation is just knowing your character so well-the background you've come to through what the playwright made up-that when something comes up, you instinctively know what's wrong or right.

Roy Harris: When you re working on a role, do you ever get a picture of what the character should look like?

Robert Sean Leonard: Yeah, and it's never me!

Roy Harris: Well, it shouldn't be you. You're playing somebody else.

Robert Sean Leonard: But I never get that out of my head. I can think back on every role I've done and picture who should have played it instead of me-what type of person; what he looked like.

Roy Harris: Does it help you to do that?

Robert Sean Leonard: Sometimes. Slowly the picture in your mind becomes you. I can look back now and say, yes, I'm Eugene Jerome. Yes, I'm Romeo. But it took a while for me to get there, to get me in the picture. It was always someone else.

Roy Harris: When you're working on a role, do you ever get a sense of how that character should dress?

Robert Sean Leonard: Actually, not much. I know there are actors who do. I guess it doesn't matter so much. I just had a problem with that on The Speed of Darkness, however. The designer was very intent on including the actors in her plans. I drove her crazy. "I don't know. Why are you asking me? Whatever you put on me, I can justify." She didn't like that. But I guess it would depend on the role. The only battle I lost was she put a letter jacket on me, a varsity letter jacket. It was the only thing I didn't like. Any time I see a varsity jacket on stage, I think, 'Oh, here comes a young actor.' I want to be a person. It's too much a sign to me. But I ended up wearing it. She liked it too much.

Roy Harris: When you're in rehearsal, what are you looking for from other actors?

Robert Sean Leonard: Well, hopefully we'll all be pretty solid in our agreement about what is going on in this play and what our part in it is. Of course, there are technical things: like you don't upstage someone when they're talking. An important thing is knowing when the scene is moving, and knowing when it's time to take a moment for yourself. And that's hard. A lot of actors get up there, and understandably, the play is about them. If you're playing a milkman, the play is about a milkman. But when that becomes your only reality, you lose sight of the intentions of the play. You know, it's so obvious to me when an actor feels he is the most important thing in the play. It's so portentous. Every line means something. It's so boring. Maybe that's why I'm a little afraid of finding intentions in every line. Then it all gets too much meaning.

Roy Harris: Have you ever worked with an actor-you don't have to give a name-whom you had a problem with?

Robert Sean Leonard: Sure. I worked with an actress in a film who had no clue, didn't know the first thing about acting. The camera would go to you, and she'd be off camera reading her next film. She would say her lines not looking at you. That drove me crazy. On stage, I must say I've never worked with anyone where there was a problem. I've worked with people who really snapped with me and then people who were just all right to work with.

Roy Harris: Who is an actor you've really liked working with?

Robert Sean Leonard: Cynthia Nixon - when you work with her, she's so in tune with what's going on. When a scene is playing, it just lifts and rises. She's like a dancer. I love all her work. Something happens when that actress walks on stage. It elevates into another world.

Roy Harris: What are you looking for from the director?

Robert Sean Leonard: An unshakable vision. You know when they have it, because you'll ask questions and immediately there's an answer that makes sense, and it makes sense in relation to everything that's happened so far.

Roy Harris: What if it's a vision you don't agree with?

Robert Sean Leonard: That doesn't matter. I want a vision that's like a force running through everything.

Roy Harris: What happens when there's not a vision?

Robert Sean Leonard: Well, my sister told me once, when she was in third grade, her whole class went into the city. When they came up from the subway, the teacher-for a moment-didn't know where she was. My sister saw that look, and suddenly was terrified. She lost all faith. And that's horrible when it happens with a director, and it can happen in an instant. If they have an unshakable vision, it won't happen.

Roy Harris: Have you ever had a director tell you something and you felt that you just couldn't do it?

Robert Sean Leonard: Couldn't from myself?

Roy Harris: Yes.

Robert Sean Leonard: Well, no, because the minute someone asks something of me, my first reaction is, "God dammit, I can do this. I can do whatever they want." You know, to me the author's intentions are God, and the director the channel for those intentions. The very idea of not being able to do something a director asks, or being averse to it, is upsetting to me.

Roy Harris: Have you ever been in a situation where some or all of the actors didn't trust a director? How do you deal with that?

Robert Sean Leonard: Good question. Well, if a director can't give you an answer for why he wants you to do something a certain way, then you shouldn't trust him. If I initially don't trust a director, I try to find out why I don't. Maybe it's me. But if he can't give you an answer, you can't get bitter. You have to rely solely on yourself, or on yourself and who you're playing with. You do the best you can and hope for a short run.

Roy Harris: What director would you most like to work with?

Robert Sean Leonard: Mark Lamos.

Roy Harris: Why?

Robert Sean Leonard: In everything of his I've seen I always witness such clarity and devotion to the author's intent, even if it's complex, as in Hamlet or The Master Builder.

Roy Harris: For someone your age, you've had a chance to play some very good roles. What's been the most challenging role so far?

Robert Sean Leonard: Romeo. I think I misunderstood him the whole time I was playing it.

Roy Harris: Oh, Bobby, everybody who plays him feels that, don't they?

Robert Sean Leonard: Probably. When I took the role, I thought, I'm going to make him honorable, which I think he is. Most people feel he's a sap. My mistake was making him that way from the beginning.

Roy Harris: What do you mean?

Robert Sean Leonard: A friend of mine said late in the run that that first scene is not about a man who knows love. It's about a kid who thinks he knows what love is. Then he meets Juliet. He said, you should make us puke in the aisles when you tell Benvolio what you think love is. And he's right. From the moment I walked on stage, boy, did I play passion. All through the Rosaline stuff with Benvolio, it was passion. Consequently, when I met Juliet, I just didn't have anywhere to go. It was like starting with a nine and getting to a ten.

Roy Harris: But you seemed to have a good time working on it.

Robert Sean Leonard: Well, I learned from it. You need to see his feeling about Rosaline in order to really appreciate the great feeling he comes to have about Juliet. I didn't look at it intelligently enough. I didn't realize the simplicity of: he doesn't know what he's doing and then he does know what he's doing. It's also our job as Romeo to convince the audience that once he's in love with Juliet-and some people would scream at this-it's worth dying for. With all the mistakes I made, it was a great experience.

Roy Harris: Ten years from now you can do it again and think what that will be like.

Robert Sean Leonard: I'll have a whole new series of questions about it. That's why acting is so phenomenal. You can't ever be good enough.

Roy Harris: Does there come a point for you in rehearsals, or probably in performance somewhere, where you think you got it?

Robert Sean Leonard: No. There are points where I feel I've gotten something. I've never given a perfect performance. I wonder who has?

Roy Harris: Well, if they think they have...

Robert Sean Leonard: I don't want to talk to them.

Roy Harris: Me either. Have you ever been praised by a friend for a performance that you thought was bad, or certainly not adequate?

Robert Sean Leonard: Sure.

Roy Harris: How do you deal with that? How does it affect you?

Robert Sean Leonard: Well, you're praised very often for things that you don't deserve to be praised for. But you learn pretty quickly who does that and who doesn't. So I guess you learn who to listen to. How do you deal with it? I get very indignant. I go home and I say, 'Well, they're wrong.' When I was filming Dead Poets Society, I noticed that Peter Weir (the director)-as soon as he'd say, "Cut"-would look to John Seal (the cinematographer) first. As soon as the play is done, I consider myself a cinematographer; I check with myself. Then I check with the director. A friend may be right in saying something I did was false, but I have to go by what the director is asking for. So, it's complicated when friends say things. Very complicated. It's very sacred between you and the director, and frankly, people need to honor that.

Roy Harris: What's the biggest difference between acting on stage and acting for the camera?

Robert Sean Leonard: In some ways, they're very different and then in some ways they're not so different at all. It's a little like recording music and then playing it live. In one sense, you're part of the whole, but fragmentally. In film, you're offering pieces, and the director makes it whole.

Roy Harris: Do you prefer one over the other?

Robert Sean Leonard: No. I don't know. I think I prefer theatre. Is that three answers?

Roy Harris: You can change your answer later. I'm trying to find out what your feeling is at this moment. In film, you go in on the first day of shooting and you may shoot pages 68-72. In terms of preparation, how do you shoot something that's in the middle of that character's (for want of a better word) journey? What do you do with all that comes before?

Robert Sean Leonard: Homework becomes much more important in film, ironically, because in film, usually your work has much less to do immediately with other actors. It's much more a solitary art. Because you start with page 68, you have to know exactly where that character is and has been before page 68. Hopefully, the director will know, too. And you will discuss it together, as Peter Weir did with me through the shooting of Dead Poets.

Roy Harris: Where do you think the director is more important, or is he: in film or stage?

Robert Sean Leonard: They're more important for different reasons in both areas.

Roy Harris: Have you ever been asked to do something by a film director that you didn't want to do, or thought you shouldn't do?

Robert Sean Leonard: Yeah. Usually it has to do with poor writing. Sometimes the director will want something because of what's in the script, and you have to do it, even if you're not sure it's right.

Roy Harris: Let's say you did a role on stage for six weeks, night after night, and then you go and make a movie of it. A scene you've done many times, you're now going to do and the camera is going to be this close to you. Does it do anything to your way of thinking about it, to know the viewer is now so close?

Robert Sean Leonard: The relationship with the director becomes much more intimate. It would be like having the director on stage with you at all times, saying, "How about this? how about this? or how about this?" They are creating with you at the moment, and they know, and hopefully you do too, the journey of this character. It would be wonderful to do it on stage first because your homework would be done for you. An obvious thing is that when the camera's so close you do bring it down, even though you try to keep it as truthful as you would anywhere. In film, you do a lot more with your eyes, where on stage you use your hands and body language.

Roy Harris: So far, what is your favorite film role?

Robert Sean Leonard: Well, I'd have to say Dead Poets Society is for me in film what Brighton Beach Memoirs was for me on stage. It was kind of my baptism because I suddenly found myself on the set with a powerhouse of a director. It also has to do with the time. I was nineteen. Peter took me in as the leader of this gang. He had me read poetry. Also, I had to play Puck, and he wouldn't tell me which scene we were going to do, so I learned all of Puck. Without a doubt, it was the most glorious film experience. It was college for me. All of the guys, we lived together. We had a whole floor of a hotel, and we became this group of young men. We did everything together. We created together. Ethan Hawke and I used to practice scenes listening to Beethoven's Ninth.

Roy Harris: What is your favorite scene there?

Robert Sean Leonard: Well, for personal reasons, the scene with Ethan on the roof where we throw the desk set off. We came up with that scene. Originally, it was a scene which ended very sadly, with Ethan saying his parents didn't love him. Peter pulled us aside and said, "Okay, we know all this. Let's just have a scene about friendship." And the three of us came up with the scene where we destroy the desk set. That was a real accomplishment for me because improvisation has always scared the hell out of me. I don't like it that much as a working technique. When the director is as strong as Peter is, then improv is wonderful.

Roy Harris: We've talked a little about this, since you and I are such fans of hers, but what was it like to play Joanne Woodward's son in Mr. and Mrs. Bridge?

Robert Sean Leonard: It's funny. They're an amazing team, she and Paul. He's reserved. Though I don't know a thing about him, I like him a great deal. Joanne is-well, you know, there's a love you have for certain celebrities. I think she knew I had this huge feeling, and she takes that feeling and makes you feel comfortable. It's okay to have it. Know what I mean?

Roy Harris: Absolutely.

Robert Sean Leonard: She embraces this feeling you have about her, and it frees you. Therefore, working with her was a dream. She's completely honest in her work.

Roy Harris: What was a favorite scene of yours in that film?

Robert Sean Leonard: I don't know. I was so racked with his age throughout the filming-you know, when he was fifteen, when he was seventeen, when he was nineteen. But I guess it would be the boy scout scene. I was so worried that no one would buy that I was fifteen years old. I was twenty at the time, so they gave me braces to help me get a sense of youth. It helped. Really, though, it was memorable because Joanne was so wonderful in it. She did everything for us. She made us all look good. I remember during filming looking over at Paul when I don't kiss her and begin to sing. And he wasn't Paul, he was Mr. Bridge, my father, and looked at me with such hatred, and it was startlingly clear that he loved his wife more than me. For him, his son wasn't going through something; no, some guy just hurt his wife. The most joyous scenes were coming home from the air corps through the final scene where I take her hand. For me, Douglas is the only one in that house who grows up with a true sense of other things in the world. After all, he's the one who writes the books.

Roy Harris: Well, you do feel he's the least selfish of those children.

Robert Sean Leonard: Yes, well, I think that's evident even when he's behaving like a brat with her. I wanted people to feel: yes, he's doing it, but it's killing him to do it. I remember feeling, 'If this guy can write about these people so brilliantly and so warmly, there's got to be something there, and I'll be damned if I'm not going to get that feeling into the film.' In his air corps training, Douglas met so many different kinds of people that he was able to look at his parents objectively and with love. To me, it's the only moment in the film where anyone reaches out to Mrs. Bridge as a human being, not the mother. Actually, Paul would probably disagree with this. But I guess we each see it from our own point of view in the film.

Roy Harris: One more quick thing before we close. If you could work with any actor, actress, director, and pick your own role; in other words, what's your ideal situation?

Robert Sean Leonard: I think doing The Seagull with Joanne would be an amazing experience. Doing anything with Ian Holm. I've always had a dream of playing Horatio to someone else's Hamlet. Horatio to Gary Oldman's Hamlet would be very good.