#it also happens to be beautifully written which further complicates things | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

peachscribe · 4 years ago

Text

peach’s summer book list

i had a lot of fun compiling the list of books i read during the 20-21 winter, so i decided i would do a summer one as well! i still have a lot of books i own but haven’t read, so im definitely not lacking in material

if you didn’t see my winter list, how my book list works is basically like this: i read a book that i own but have not previously read, write a short summary immediately after finishing the book, write down my thoughts on the book, and then provide a rating for the book. i also might include background info on why i read this particular book/feelings about the author, but that depends on the book. that’s how each entry works

without further ado, let’s get started!

1. Grasshopper Jungle by Andrew Smith

okay so i absolutely adore another book by andrew smith (written after grasshopper jungle) called the alex crow. it’s one of my favorite books of all time, so naturally i wanted to see if grasshopper jungle would make me feel similarly. just like the alex crow, grasshopper jungle’s plot is. so fucking weird. it stars austin szerba, a teenage polish kid who lives in ealing, iowa, and is often sexually confused regarding his girlfriend shann and his best friend robby. and in ealing, iowa, austin and robby accidentally and unknowingly unleash an unstoppable army of huge six-foot-tall praying mantis bugs that only want to do two things: fuck and eat. and i just have to say: andrew smith’s got an absolutely dynamo writing style. alex crow is similar, where it’s a book about kind of everything all at once, framed in a moment centering around teenage boys. it’s fantastic, and it’s more than a little gross, and i love it. this book made me feel so many things, and i thought austin was such an amazing narrator and main character to identify with. this book has it all: shitty teenage boy humor, fucked up science experiments, and poetic imagery that will make you want to cry. and explicit lgbt characters.

412/10 andrew smith what do you put in your water i just want to know

2. Burn by Patrick Ness

patrick ness has written a plethora of some of my favorite books (such as a monster calls, the chaos walking trilogy, and the rest of us just live here) so when i saw this one in the store i knew it would be a great one. burn is an alternate history fantasy that takes place in 1957 frome, washington, during the height of the cold war, and it begins with a girl named sarah and her father hiring a dragon to help out on their farm. but there’s not just dragons, farm living, and cold war tensions; there’s also a really shitty small town cop, a cult of dragon worshippers and their deadly teenage assassin, a pair of fbi agents, and a prophecy that sarah’s newly hired dragon claims she’s a part of. i think eoin colfer’s highfire was on my winter list, which also featured a story that included dragons and shitty cops, so when i first began burn i thought it was funny to have two books that had both things. you know, if you had a nickel etc etc. but that’s really where the similarities end because burn is entirely it’s own monster (dragon). burn is entirely invested in its world, and its fascinating. not only that, i had no clue where the book would take me next. there were so many surprises and amazing twists that honestly just blew me away. this book also includes beautifully written complicated discussions on family, race, and love - it features interracial and queer romances as the two most prominent romance plots which was such a nice surprise from a book i wasn’t expecting to have that kind of representation. this book is witty, fast-paced, and a very heartening read - i absolutely adored it.

9/10 dragons and becoming motivated by the power of love and friendship are so fucking cool

3. As Meat Loves Salt by Maria McCann

i hate this book! as meat loves salt is a historical fiction novel which takes place in seventeenth century england, which is going through a grisly civil war. the protagonist, jacob cullen, is a servant for a wealthy household and is engaged to another servant in the house. but due to certain events that are almost entirely jacob’s fault, he flees the house and is separated from his wife. from there, he joins the royal army and meets a kind soldier, ferris, and the two become fast friends. jacob and ferris’s relationship begins to bridge past friendly, and jacob struggles with his homoerotic feelings as well as the growing obsession and violence inside him. also, they try to start a colony. listen, i don’t know how to describe the book because so much happens, but it basically just follows jacob and all the terrible decisions he makes because he is, truly, a terrible person. ferris is kind and good, and jacob is scum of the earth. he sucks so bad. the entire time i was reading this book (which took absolutely so long), all i wanted was for jacob to just get his ass handed to him. i wanted to see him suffer. and it’s not like i just personally don’t like him - i believe the book purposefully depicts him as unsympathetic even though he is the narrator. i did enjoy the very in depth and accurate portrayal of what life would’ve been like in seventeenth century england, and i think it was interesting to read a character that is just the absolute worst person you’ve ever encountered and see him try and justify his actions, so if you enjoy that kind of thorough writing, then this book would be perfect for you. however, i did not see that bitch ass motherfucker jacob cullen suffer enough. i’d kill him with my bare hands.

2/10 diversity win! the worst man on earth is mlm!

4. This Savage Song by Victoria Schwab

i know ive had a friend tell me how great one of schwab’s other book series is, but truthfully i bought this book because the cover is sick as hell and it was on a table in the store that advertised for buy two get one free, i think. something like that. anyway, this savage song takes place in a future in which monsters, for whatever reason, suddenly became real and out for blood in a mysterious event nicknamed the phenomenon. august flynn is one of these monsters, but he takes no pride in that fact and only wants to feel human. kate harker is the daughter of a ruthless man and is trying her hardest to be ruthless, too, but deep down she knows it’s just an act. their city, verity, stands divided, and kate and august stand on either side - but when august is sent on a mission to befriend kate in the hopes of stopping an all out war, the lines begin to blur. this book rules. august and kate are such interesting and dynamic characters, and the narrative is familiar while still being capable of twisting the story around and taking the feet out from under you in really compelling ways. this savage song is part of the monsters of verity duology, and i can’t wait to dive into how the story continues and finishes.

11/10 sometimes you can judge a book by it’s cover

4a. Our Dark Duet by Victorian Schwab

this is the sequel and finale for this savage song and i’d figure i’d update everyone: fantastic ending, beautiful, showstopping, painful.

12/10 loved it and will definitely be keeping an eye out for schwab’s other books

5. White is for Witching by Helen Oyeyemi

oh boy. okay. white is for witching is about a house, and it is about the women who have lived inside of it. when her mother dies abroad, miranda silver begins to act strangely, and there’s nothing her father or her twin brother seem to be able to do about it. she develops an eating disorder and begins to hear voices in the silver family house, converted to a bed and breakfast by miranda’s dad; and she begins to lose herself in the house and the persistent presence of her family legacy. white is for witching switches perspective dizzingly and disorientingly between miranda, her twin eliot, miranda’s friend from school named ore, and the house itself. this story is a horror story as much as it as a tragedy as much as it is a romance as much as it is a bunch of other things. oyeyemi brings race, sexuality, nationality, and family into this story and forces you not to look away. this book is poetry.

(like i mentioned briefly, this book heavily deals with topics of race and closely follows miranda’s eating disorder. read responsibly, and take care of yourselves)

15/10 this book consumed me and i think i’ll have to read it another 10 more times to feel it properly

6. These Violent Delights by Chloe Gong

okay. okay. strap in for a ride. these violent delights is a romeo and juliet style story, taking place in glittering 1920’s shanghai. the city stands divided - not only between the foreign powers encroaching on chinese land, but also between the scarlet gang and the white flowers, who are at the height of a generations-long blood feud. juliette cai, heir to the scarlets, has recently returned from four years abroad and is determined to prove herself ruthless enough to lead. roma montagov, heir to the white flowers, is standing strenuously on his place as next in line due to a slip up four years prior and is desperate to keep hold of his title. and in the midst of juliette and roma’s burning history with each other threatening to combust, an unnatural monster lurks in the waters of shanghai, loosing a madness on scarlets and white flowers alike. this book has it all - scorned ex lovers, political intrigue, deadly monsters, and all set on a glamorous backdrop of the roaring twenties. i absolutely was enraptured by this book and the way it plays around the story of romeo and juliet so well that it easily became it’s own monster, but with the punches and embraces of something classically shakespearan. gong does just an absolutely breathtaking job of fitting this fantastical story amid the larger world of shanghai and the real life historical events that had shaken the city to its core. completely immersive and outstandingly heart racing.

17/10 i was chewing on my fingernails for the last thirty pages and will continue to do so until the sequel is released (our violent ends, 16 nov 21)

7. The Antiques by Kris D’Agostino

you ever heard of the american dysfunctional family story? this is most definitely that. at the same time george westfall’s cancer takes a turn for the worse, a hurricane hits the east coast, and suddenly all at once the issues of his health, the hurricane, and all three of his children’s achingly dysfunctional adult lives are crashing into each other. reunited by george’s death, the westfall siblings have to face their grief, each other, and the problems in their own lives they attempted to put on hold while planning their father’s memorial. this is a nice story about grief and loss and love and somehow finding the humor amidst it all.

(this book does include a depiction of an autistic child who does experience several pretty bad meltdowns due to ignorant people around him not understanding how to cater to his needs. im not an authority on what depictions are or are not harmful, but i do believe this depiction is ultimately loving and well-intended.)

7/10 it made me laugh and cry and was generally one of those books that somehow hit you close to home

8. Fierce Fairytales by Nikita Gill

fierce fairytales is a poetry anthology that reimagines classic fairytales from a modern, feminist viewpoint, acknowledging that the line between hero and villain, monster and damsel, are not as clear cut as the classics try to make you believe. this book also includes illustrations done by the author herself, which i think is really cool. my personal favorite story reimagining was the story of peter pan and captain hook, called ‘boy lost’ which looked at how peter and hook’s relationship began and rotted. all in all, i think this collection of stories had a lot of important things to say and said them in frank, easy to understand poetry and prose.

7/10 beautiful message and pretty prose, but at times a little cliche

and that’s all from the summer! my fall semester starts tomorrow, and overall i feel very good about all the reading i did this summer. i even read four other books not on this list for work! so i definitely feel like i made the most out of my time, and im really glad i was able to read so many stories that made me feel a variety of different things

thanks so much for reading this list, and let me know if you read or have read any of these books and tell me what you think of them!

happy reading<3

#book recs #book rec #book rec list #grasshopper jungle #burn #as meat loves salt #this savage song #monsters of verity #white is for witching #these violent delights #the antiques #fierce fairytales #just like my winter list i did write ever review immediately after finishing the book and i think.#i think here you can really tell what my immediate reactions were based on how the review is written fbfjfjd

56 notes · View notes

james-joyces-right-eyeball · 4 years ago

Text

Absolute Favorite Books I’d Recommend to Anyone

This is a list of my top-tier favorite books that I would recommend/talk about endlessly to pretty much anyone (in no particular order). I know people probably don’t care but I just like talking about books I love so here we are.

Beloved - Toni Morrison

~ Based off the real story of Margaret Garner, a slave woman who escaped slavery and when captured killed her child in order to prevent them from ever being enslaved again, Beloved tells the story of a mother named Sethe, born in slavery who eventually escaped and is haunted by the figurative demons of her trauma and the literal (arguably) ghost of her dead daughter, who she herself killed. It is an excellent exploration of the horrors of slavery and of the haunting legacy of the institution for those who were subjected to it.

Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov

~ If you’ve been on Tumblr for a while, you probably know what Lolita is. The story of the predatory Humbert Humbert who lusts after, rapes, and kidnaps the “nymphet” Dolores Haze. An excellent construction of how predators, unreliable narrators in their own right, hide behind fabrications, almost-believable excuses, and pretty words to make their actions seem maybe not so bad. In the words of the book itself, “You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style.”

Ulysses - James Joyce

~ Notoriously one of the most difficult books in the English language, Ulysses lifts its structure from Homer’s Odyssey to tell the story of a common man, Leopold Bloom, as he goes about his day. Yes, this book takes place over the course of only one day. We follow Bloom as well as Joyce’s literary counterpart Stephen Daedalus through their thoughts and actions, gathering details of their lives previous throughout. It’s a book that, in my own words, “is life”. It is sad, funny, strange, vulgar, disgusting, beautiful, revelatory, sensual, and nonsensical all at once. Joyce aimed to create a reflection of life through his stream-of-consciousness style which some people might find confusing, but I personally find absolutely beautiful and honest and realistic. The prose is also gorgeous, but that could be applied to everything Joyce wrote.

Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte

~ The classic gothic book that tells the tale of Heathcliff and his ultimately destructive love of Catherine Earnshaw, whose eventual marriage to someone else and the general mistreatment of him by her family drives Heathcliff insane and he spends the rest of his life trying to take revenge by abusing and torturing the next Earnshaw and Linton (the family into which Catherine marries) generations. If I’m being honest, I like this book mostly because of how wild and dark it is, but the writing is also genius and beautiful. I think the book also carries an interesting view of the destructive nature of revenge, overzealous love, and othering.

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn - Betty Smith

~ A coming-of-age story at the turn of the century that tells the story of Francie Nolan, a young bookish girl growing up in a lower class family in New York City. It tells about her father’s struggles with alcoholism as well as her mother’s struggles to deal with that and at the same time raise Francie and her brother. Francie is confronted with a strange, uncertain world as a young girl, but tries to face it with bravery throughout childhood

Little Women - Louisa May Alcott

~ Another coming-of-age story, this time about four young sisters: Meg, Jo, Beth and Amy March. You are probably familiar with this book already; it’s had more movie adaptations then I can possibly remember off the top of my head. It’s the story of four sisters as they try to navigate growing up, love, and loss during the mid to late 1800s.

The Color Purple - Alice Walker

~ A novel that tells the story of Celie, a young black woman who is raped and then married young to a man who will go on to use and abuse her, through her letters to God. Throughout the novel she meets Shug Avery, a woman with whom she eventually falls in love and begins a relationship with. Through this and her eventual freedom from her abusive husband, she is able to gain at last her own sense of self and take back control over her life, a life no longer ruled by the abusive men around her.

The Bluest Eye - Toni Morrison

~ The tragic story of young black girl Pecola Breedlove, who wants nothing more than to have blonde hair and blue eyes just like the women she sees in the movies. Both a deconstruction of the whiteness of beauty standards as well as how these standards can utterly destroy vulnerable young girls, it is also an exploration of the people who allow these sorts of things to happen, including Pecola’s mother and father. The Bluest Eye, I think, showcases one of the aspects of Toni Morrison that I like the most, that I aspire to the most: her ability to enter the minds of all people, even people who you might despise at first. Her characters, especially Cholly in The Bluest Eye, are ones you might not entirely sympathize with, but they will always be ones you understand.

The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath

~ Based off of the author’s own experiences as a young college student, The Bell Jar tells the story of Esther Greenwood, whose depression over her place as a woman in a patriarchal society as well as her inability to choose a life path for herself leads to a suicide attempt and a subsequent stay in a mental hospital. A very nuanced portrayal of mental illness, especially anxiety and depression, The Bell Jar is an extremely moving and relatable story for me and clearly is as well for others. It is a classic for a reason.

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings - Maya Angelou

~ A memoir of Angelou’s childhood, this book tells the story of her experiences living as a black girl in the south with her grandmother and brother as well as her later years living with her mother. It also tells of how she was raped by her mother’s boyfriend when she was around eight or nine, and how she struggled to live with that and find her voice, both literally and figuratively. A wonderful book about overcoming struggles and the power of words and literature in such times.

Invisible Man - Ralph Ellison

~ Ellison’s novel tells the story of a young black man, never getting a name in the text, and his feelings of invisibility and his struggles to find a place in society to belong. His struggles only lead him further into despair, until he decides to “become invisible” as people seem not to see him as a person anyway. Invisible Man is an exploration of American mid-century racism and the isolation it causes to those subjected to it. Not only that, but it is surprisingly relevant to our times now, especially on the subject of police violence. (Personal anecdote: When I first read this book, when I got to the aforementioned police violence part it was right in the middle of the BLM resurgence last summer and I cried for a good twenty minutes while reading that chapter over how nothing had changed and it still hurts me to think about it. Embarrassingly, my dad walked in on me while I was crying, and I had to quickly explain it away.)

A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man - James Joyce

~ The title basically says it all lol. This book tells of the coming-of-age of Stephen Daedalus (the same one from the later-written Ulysses). His sensitive childhood, his awkward and lustful adolescence, his feelings of Irish nationality and Catholic guilt, and his struggles to fully realize himself, both as an artist and a human being. It is a very hopeful story, and one that I love mostly because I relate so much to Stephen Daedalus as an artist and as a person.

One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez

~ A magical-realist intergenerational family drama, Marquez’s book traces the various lives and loves of the Buendia family over the course of (you guessed it!) one hundred years. A beautifully written, at times extremely emotionally moving and chilling masterpiece, Marquez in a way retells the history of Colombia, of its colonization and exploitation.

Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy

~ A classic Russian novel of society and love, Tolstoy tells the story of Anna Karenina, married, wealthy woman with a child she adores. However, she falls in love with another man, Count Vronsky, and comes to a tragic end for her love. The parallel story of the novel is that of Konstantin Levin, a wealthy landowner who also struggles to find fulfillment in his life and understand his place in society.

The Sound and the Fury - William Faulkner

~ A novel that features an entire family of unreliable narrators, The Sound and the Fury details the fall of a once-prominent southern Compson family and always-present place of the past. There are four different narratives: Benjy Compson, a mentally disabled man who is unsure of his surroundings and of time and only knows that he misses his older sister Caddy; Quintin Compson, the eldest son and a Harvard man both obsessed with his sister retaining her “purity” and the fact that she failed to do so and had a baby out of wedlock, going as far to claim it is his baby in an attempt to preserve something of the family reputation; Jason Compson, who is the caretaker of Caddy’s daughter and believes her to be going down her mother’s “sinful” path; and Dilsey, the black maid of the Compson’s who unlike the people she cares for is not weighed down by their history. The narratives take place in different time periods and is in a stream-of-consciousness style. It’s a deeply dark and disturbing novel about the haunting nature of the past, a common theme in Faulkner’s work (see Absalom, Absalom! for more of this).

Song of Solomon - Toni Morrison

~ It is the story of Milkman Dead, a young black man growing up in the south and his relationship with his very complicated family. To say anymore would be to spoil the novel, but I will say that it is an excellent book about family, self-fulfillment in a world that tries to deny you that, and, like The Bluest Eye, exhibits Morrison’s excellent character work.

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof - Tennessee Williams

~ A play which takes place on the patriarch of a family’s birthday in the oppressive heat of the midsummer south, Williams’ play explores lies, secrets, and how repression only results in anger, frustration, and sadness. It’s a tragic but brilliant play that I think was very ahead of its time. If you’ve read it (or do read it) then you know what I mean.

Giovanni’s Room - James Baldwin

~ This book tells the story of a young man and his love of another man named Giovanni while he is in Paris. It is a book about love, queer guilt, and has what I would call an ambiguous ending. There is uncertainty at the end, but there does seem to be some kind of acceptance. It is a bit of a coming-out story, but more than that it is a story of personal acceptance and at the same time a sad, tragic love story.

HERmione - H.D.

~ An underrated modernist masterpiece, HERmione is a somewhat fictionalized account of the author, Hilda Doolittle’s, experience as a young aspiring poet dating another poet (in real life Ezra Pound in this book named George Lowndes) who is a threat to her both physically and emotionally. It explores her own mental state, as she considers herself a failure and falls in love with a woman for the first time (Fayne Rabb in the book, Frances Gregg in real life).

To the Lighthouse - Virginia Woolf

~ People think about going to a lighthouse. They do not. A couple years and a war passes then they do. That may seem like a boring plot, and you may be right. However, To the Lighthouse is not much about plot. It is more about the inner lives of its characters, a family and their friends, on two different occasions of their lives: one before WWI and one after WWI. Woolf explores in this novel the trauma that results from such a massive loss of life and security. Not only that, she also explores the nature of art (especially in female artists) in the character of Lily Briscoe and her struggles to complete a painting. It’s a short novel, but it contains so much about life, love, and loss within these few pages.

The Heart is a Lonely Hunter - Carson McCullers

~ A southern gothic novel about isolation and loneliness in a small town. Every character has something to separate them from wider society, and often find solace and companionship in a deaf man, John Singer, who himself experiences a loneliness that they cannot understand. There are various forms of social isolation explored in this novel: by race, disability, age, gender, etc. A wonderful, heart-wrenching book about loneliness and the depths it can potentially drag people to.

The Waste Land - T.S. Eliot

~ A modernist masterpiece of a poem, Eliot describes feeling emptiness and isolation. The brilliance of it can only be shown by an excerpt:

“Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither Living nor dead, and I knew nothing, Looking into the heart of light, the silence.”

“The river’s tent is broken: the last fingers of leaf Clutch and sink into the wet bank. The wind Crosses the brown land, unheard. The nymphs are departed. Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song. The river bears no empty bottles, sandwich papers, Silk handkerchiefs, cardboard boxes, cigarette ends Or other testimony of summer nights. The nymphs are departed. And their friends, the loitering heirs of city directors; Departed, have left no addresses. By the waters of Leman I sat down and wept . . . Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my song, Sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak not loud or long. But at my back in a cold blast I hear The rattle of the bones, and chuckle spread from ear to ear. “

(My personal favorite line from this poem is, “I will show you fear in a handful of dust.”)

The Trial - Franz Kafka

~ The protagonist of the novel, Josef K., wakes up one morning to find that he has been placed under arrest for reasons that are kept from him. Kafka creates throughout the novel a scathing satire of bureaucracy, as K. tries to find out more about his case, more about his trial, but only becomes more confused as he digs deeper. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to the world he lives in, and the more tries to explain it the further the more that proves to be the case. An excellently constructed novel and a great one to read if you would like to be depressed about the state of the world because, though Kafka’s work is a satire, like a lot of his other work, it manages to strike a strangely real note.

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead - Tom Stoppard

~ An absurdist play that is a retelling of Shakespeare’s Hamlet from the perspective of minor characters, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, who in the broad overview of the original play, do not matter. Throughout the play, they question their existence and the purpose of it and through that Stoppard dissects not only the absurdity of life, but how fiction and theater reflect that absurdity inadvertently.

As I Lay Dying - William Faulkner

~ The novel details the journey the Bundren family makes after the death of the family matriarch, Addie, to bury her. Each chapter offers a different narrative from the family members and those who surround them, revealing some ulterior motives to them “going to town” to bury Addie. The patriarch Anse desires a pair of false teeth, and the daughter Dewey Dell is pregnant and needs an abortion, as there is no way for her or her family to support it. It’s about the powerlessness of people in the impoverished south. The Bundrens are constantly subject to forces beyond their control, struggles which would be easily solved if they had the money to spare for it. There is more to the book, but that is my favorite reading of it, that of class. Faulkner’s ability to create distinct voices for every one of his characters shines through here.

And, last but not least:

The Collected Poems - Sylvia Plath

~ All the poems Plath wrote during her tragically short lifetime. The best way to demonstrate or summarize the book’s brilliance is just to show you. This is her poem “Edge��, which appears in the book:

“The woman is perfected. Her dead Body wears the smile of accomplishment, The illusion of a Greek necessity Flows in the scrolls of her toga, Her bare Feet seem to be saying: We have come so far, it is over. Each dead child coiled, a white serpent, One at each little Pitcher of milk, now empty. She has folded Them back into her body as petals Of a rose close when the garden Stiffens and odors bleed From the sweet, deep throats of the night flower. The moon has nothing to be sad about, Staring from her hood of bone. She is used to this sort of thing. Her blacks crackle and drag.”

HOPE YOU ENJOYED! HAPPY READING TO ALL!

#dark academia #books and literature #toni morrison #james joyce #tennessee williams #virginia woolf #william faulkner #sylvia plath #plays #poetry #can you tell i like southern and modernist lit lol?

36 notes · View notes

sugasugawarau · 4 years ago

Text

Synopsis: You knew that Kageyama Tobio was not your soulmate - and that was why you could not help but succumb to the waves that lulled you away from the shores of fate + semi inspired by Eyes Blue like the Atlantic by sistaprod ft. Subvrbs. Also part of @yacoka‘s collab <3 (2.4k words)

Warnings/notes: Some angst near the end, soulmate red string au, gender neutral reader. No beta we die like Rex Lapis so if I ever feel like it this may be edited at some point asdahdhj idk LMAO

— Prologue

There are as many reasons to fall in love with Kageyama Tobio as there are fractals made by the ocean’s breath as the world inhales and exhales, flourishes and wilts, conquers and surrenders. It would not even be a hyperbole to say that in number, they remain unrivalled to the plethora of stars that stain the waves with their reflection and run deeper than the scars of lightyears that paint lines from Cassiopeia to Aquila.

After all, he is the darkest hue of navy blue.

Determination that moves in an orchestra of thundering waves, brandishing on its crest an admirable recklessness, heeding not for the need to call upon courage or confidence; polished instinct that endued one with the same awestruck feeling when facing the beautifully suffocating obscurity of their life in this world, a mixture of raw fear and the need to impart a piece of their soul in everything they do despite how fragile the skin shielding their heart is.

But the best part of loving Kageyama was that you were not - or will ever become - destined to be.

— Shoreline

Red.

It was a word that was always thrown about in conversations, the fuel to the catastrophes that were high school gossip chains, and the colour that held the mangled passion of the string of fate. Garishly predestined and easily tangled by unnecessary complications of jealousy and confusion, it is needless to say that you hated red with more passion than the love it emptily promises with a title as shallow as soulmates.

That was not to say you despised love. There was nothing wrong with love itself, a fact which you had decided firmly since the spry age of four years old. What was wrong was its combination with soulmates: a rigid formula, nothing like the walks with your grandmother on the bright summer roads littered with flowers as her calloused palm gently guided you, or the laughter you shared with your friends after a long run in the rain, hugging each other goodbye at the end of the day despite the muddy battle scars covering your arms and legs from falling countless times.

Your mind could have kept you engaged in your internal debate for longer if you were left to your own devices, but an awkward cough and the sound of a desk shifting towards your right brought you out of your reverie, bringing your drifting thoughts back to the classroom surrounding you.

Perhaps your look of confusion came off as hostile, for the dark-haired boy now sitting next to you looked at you with a slight glare that felt forced, an automatic effort to defend himself.

His tone of voice only confirmed your unconsciously off-putting expression as he gruffly stated, “Group project.” to explain his sudden presence.

“Oh. What’s the topic on?”

An awkward silence had ensued while you tried to calmly collect yourself by gathering a handful of pens from your pencil case after being caught in your heinous crime of not paying attention to your English teacher.

“You don’t know?” Came his reply, causing you to occupy yourself by finding extreme interest in a lime green highlighter you did not have any recollection of ever buying.

“Well, I clearly wasn’t paying attention.”

“You… weren’t?” The slight intonation in his tone was a stark contrast to your initial impression of him and caused you to look up at him, almost letting out an amused snort at his befuddled frown to which he furrowed his brows and shot a challenging “What?” in return. Realizing that he was genuine in believing that you were deep in thought over the lesson, a burst of laughter blossomed past your lips, attracting a few odd looks from your nearby peers and an abashed glare from him.

You paused to take a breath, a repetition of sorries stumbling their way out to appease the onslaught of nagging you thought would follow shortly. Instead, all the boy muttered was a simple, “You’re weird.”

“Sure, but that’s beside the point - were you paying any attention?”

“No.”

Seeing your face contorted to stop yet another bout of laughter to roam its way into the world as a result of his bluntness, he shot out of his seat and announced that he would go ask the teacher, unable to hide his puzzlement as he walked away. He would come to regret this decision when the teacher began to lecture him, earning more heads to turn his way as she scolded him before sending him off dismissively with a sticky note that you assumed had your now long-awaited topic.

Before you could thank him for enduring what could only be one of the worst things to experience as a high school student, he wordlessly handed the piece of paper to you and sat down.

“Kageyama, right? With this project, you’ll have me to thank for the A we’ll get,” you promised confidently, to which he responded with a halfhearted “Good luck.”

If he had been a close friend, you would have taken the small textbook on his desk and gently hit his head at his evident lack of belief in his capabilities, but settled for a clipped sigh instead. After all, you did not want to further contribute to the premature wrinkles Kageyama was making himself prone to with all of the brow-furrowing he did.

This is going to be one long month.

— Largo

Like how the ocean reluctantly caresses the sleeping shore as it wakes from its slumber during low tide, your lives slowly flowed together.

During the first week of your group project with him, he would greet you curtly, and on a few occasions, you would have short conversations about the outline of your book review.

And this singular week was enough to show that there was some (okay, maybe a lot) of backing behind the teacher’s warning about Kageyama’s dismal grade.

While you flipped through A Midsummer Night’s Dream, you would catch the all-too-familiar confusion on his face - it was written on his features so blatantly that it was almost comical, as if taken straight out of a shonen manga.

“You know if you’re stuck you can ask me for help.”

A slight scowl greeted you over the hedge of pages he had been burying himself in, followed by a biting, “Who said I need help?”

You could only roll your eyes in return.

“Please drop the prideful act. You've been glazing over the same page for about twenty minutes now."

After a few seconds of grumbling did he finally comply, and with your explanations, his bookmark was now comfortably sandwiched between the double-digit page numbers right as the bell rang. You hummed in satisfaction before returning your desk to your original spot, expecting him to rush out along with everyone else - so to turn around and see him still standing there was a bit of a surprise.

“Did you still need help with the last few lines?” You settled on asking, not really wanting to plague your break with work but offering nonetheless. Thankfully, he shot a look of disdain at the play as he stuffed it away haphazardly in his bag.

“No, I just wanted to,” he trailed off a bit, the tinge of red on his ears an out-of-character detail you decided not to comment on, “to say thanks, I guess.”

You smiled softly at the unexpected gesture of appreciation before giving him a teasing nudge which he stiffened slightly at.

“Well, I can’t have you bringing down my mark now can I?”

“Nevermind, I take it back.”

“Too bad, I have those words of gratitude stored nicely in my hippocampus already.”

From there, tutoring sessions with Kageyama became the norm, with you sometimes asking about his volleyball team after he had let slip that you were a better teacher than Tsukishima (something you would be sure to smugly share if you ever met the infamous middle blocker).

By the end of the month, all of the hard work - and a couple of all-nighters due to procrastination - brought forth an A as you had promised.

Even your relentless teasing, varying between “I told you so!” to “You owe me at least three meat buns now” which were all met with an annoyed “Shut up”was not enough to dim the smile he tried to hide.

— High tide

With the force of nature, the tide rose without warning; from goodnight texts to confessing to the first “I love you” uttered shyly between shameless souls, neither of you was sure where things began, but found comfort in such liberating chaos.

In times where he needed to be held, you were there, and the insecurities you would hide, he would turn beautiful. And today happened to be a day for both as you stared absentmindedly at his bedroom ceiling.

“Hey Tobio, what’s your take on soulmates?”

“We’ve been together for almost a year now, what do you think?” he put his phone down and turned towards you, “I could care less about soulmates or whatever else is worrying you enough to make your overthinking go into overdrive.”

“Rude, have some respect, it’s my profession after all,” you shoved him playfully as he snorted in reply, “It’s just... If your string ever appeared, wouldn't you rather-”

“Listen Y/n, did you know that I’m scared of dying but I’m even more terrified of the thought of living without you? I could never and don’t ever want to replace you. People can talk all they want, if I could find a love like ours without something as stupid as a piece of string then I don’t need a soulmate.”

“Really?”

With a flick to your forehead, he huffed in fake exasperation. “Really.”

“Huh, who knew you could be so romantic.”

“It's not romantic, I'm just being honest, idiot.”

“You sure could make do with some more lessons on manners and social tact. It's too bad you can't pick up on those as well as volleyball drills.”

Before he could retaliate, you enveloped him in a familiar embrace, burrowing your face into the large hoodie he donned.

It was effortless, his company.

— Ebbing away

But it wasn’t all romantic.

You fiddled with your phone as you waited for any sign that Kageyama had seen your messages, the pack of meat buns you had bought on a whim no longer letting off their fragrant steam. You knew he had an important match coming up against Seijoh, that he had to prove himself, that he lives hungrily and foolishly like no other. But his missing presence went beyond volleyball practice, keeping his distance from you even when he was right by your side.

Why am I stuck reminiscing about the past when we still have each other?

Why does every step I take towards him feel as if I’m only drawing myself farther away from him?

A carousel of rhetorical questions spun around your head as you stopped your slow pace towards Karasuno. You were not blind; you knew the rumours and dirty looks from your classmates were not something anyone could be immune to, that he tried his best to spend less time around you at school. The only conclusion you could reach was that he was ashamed: either of you, or the fact that he had begun to see his red string and could not bring himself to face you.

Ignoring the urge to let yourself cry, you glanced down at your phone once more, 8:30PM flashed across your eyes, followed by your empty notifications. There was no way he’d still be practicing at the school now and even if he was, you doubted he would be happy to see you. Maybe - no, definitely - it would be better to head home, and maybe stop by the convenience store you had bought the now misshapen meat buns from to get some tea and call it a night.

If only fate did not reciprocate your hatred towards it.

Stepping into the small store, the first person you are greeted with is none other than Kageyama Tobio. The whole situation was like a fever dream, and you would do anything to be able to let out a laugh and have him call you weird all over again. But all you could bring yourself to do was blearily stare at him.

He turned around quickly, as if not wanting to be caught before ushering you outside. “Y/n? Why are you here?” he hissed, a stiffness that he had recently adopted to his body language that you were now all too familiar with.

“What? Am I not allowed to go into any and all convenience stores I please?” You challenged, a part of you waiting for him to care enough to see how tired you were, to actually look you in the eyes for the first time in weeks.

He did not, opting to turn his head towards the door again.

“It’s not that, it’s just-”

“Just what? Tobio, what is up with you lately?” A pause ensued, broken by a small hiccup as your eyes dampened - God, how much more pathetic could you get than crying in front of some dingy convenience store - “Do you even love me anymore?”

How odd. You thought that by finally uttering the final question that had been dancing around your mind free to the world, you would feel better. That he would reassure you, as he always had.

Not that he would at last meet your gaze, grabbing your hand to look at the red string wrapped around your ring finger.

The taste of tears and Kageyama’s eyes as blue as the Atlantic all felt miles away from you as an orange-haired boy stepped out of the store, his mouth dropping into an o-shape when he saw that his string led to you, a disheveled mess arguing with his teammate.

“Kageyama…You knew? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want to face the reality of it all. Because I was afraid of losing you.”

“But I wouldn’t leave you-”

“I know you wouldn’t but you should!” Kageyama’s furrowed brows, once a quirk of his that you were fond of, now elicited a sick turmoil in your stomach, “You have to. Please.”

You wanted to yell at him, let the blood pour out of any and all raw words of anger and hurt.

Who was he to decide what was good for you, to throw you at some boy you never met before, to give up?

Then again, you could never say you would not have done the same for him if you knew he had found his soulmate despite the sweet words he had told you so long ago.

So you let yourself go. For his sake.

#kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama x y/n #kageyama x you #haikyuu x reader

77 notes · View notes

suspiciouslypinkrosegarden · 4 years ago

Text

The Passed Out Princess Chapters 1-2

Pairing: My CMC (Uyu, Dan Byeol) x Suit Saeran

Description: On days 7-9 of Ray’s route, the player is denied food as “Saeran” makes his presence first known. But, what if MC fell very ill under this method of torture due to a medical condition? Sadly, my custom MC, Uyu (full name Dan Byeol), would deal with exactly this dilemma.

Content warning: Descriptions of throwing up, passing out, and meal skipping. Every food related issue mentioned is strictly medical, and based on my own condition.

This was written under the assumption that you have played Ray’s route in full, so route spoilers ahead! This takes place during the very beginning of day 8, and according to the timings and contents of the chat rooms, it would take place before Saeran cuts contact with the RFA and before he installs a camera to monitor MC in her room. It is timed to match closely around to when I’d get sick myself.

My CMC’s condition deals chronic with low blood sugar, meaning she has to eat to keep it up or suffer the consequences as seen here. It is not diabetes related, it is something she is born with as am I and is linked to more complicated matters I left out to keep it simple. Some symptoms include: growing light headed, severe dizziness, nausea, vomiting, and passing out. See all chapters

I wrote this with flexibility for whichever HC for Saeran you follow (DID or BPD), because whether or not he has one of the following, Rika has drilled it in his head that Ray and Saeran are separate entities, and Saeran views it this way. Consider it written the way Cheritz writes him, with nothing exactly too set.

To make things easier for myself, I’m uploading multiple chapters on each post, chapters only separated by lines. Here is 1 and 2

Ping!

The sound of Dan’s phone alerted her to rise and greet the day with a new chat room open.

As the morning sun took its place in the clear blue sky, the little woman sat up in her big bed, bangs sticking out in all directions as her head thumped with a dull pain. Hunger induced pain, she noted, as her stomach felt empty.

Despite the beauty of this early morning, the light pouring through the windows creating a rosy glow which engulfed the princess room; there was no beautiful light shining on the brunette’s new situation, seeming so dreary and dim.

Uyu still found herself wrapped up in this place, whisked away to a castle tucked deep within mountains known as Magenta. Every corner of the building was constructed brick by brick with a beautifully ornate architectural design, but the bright exterior was only a façade. If she was left caged like this for long, what would become of her? Driven to insanity, perhaps she’d attack and claw at the walls which confined her, unable to turn her anger to Saeran, the real victim in all this. The “savior” made it clear she was the true ruling figure who lurked about as the moon rose, the mastermind behind this place’s pain and suffering.

The night before, after being so kindly introduced to “Saeran”, this golden-haired angel confirmed herself to be quite the wicked witch of the west indeed, and it took everything out of Uyu to not call her harsher names to her face.

Mint Eye was hell redecorated to wear the guise of heaven, but pretty gardens and saccharine words could not fool her. Because Dan wore no wool over her eyes, the savior had no intention of allowing her to live long enough to become the new narrator of “The Yellow Wallpaper”; and she had no shoes to click together at the heel to wish her way home with who she came here for originally.

Just as Ray’s suit did, he changed, flipping like a light switch.

Saeran, the name V previously called him by, did succeed in giving her a good fright, his attitude being the least thing she expected to see after Ray’s earlier sobs over the phone.

Uyu was mainly focused on one solid question after their encounter, though. Just what did that “cleansing” entail in full detail? What did this place do to him, to make him weep and beg for a warm hand to hold one minute, only to push back and try to scare her the next?

It was as if he was caught, dragged by the feet somewhere inescapable, a pit damp and dark down under; rising from a shivering grave cold to the touch.

If it weren’t for her position, she wouldn’t have allowed it.

Now more than ever, this room built on the foundation of fantasy and delight felt like a birdcage which barely allowed her to wiggle an arm through its bars. She relied on her song, her sweet words which Ray claimed to tickle at his heart and hold a power over him like no other before. Her goal, of course, was to use this for good, influencing him to learn to appreciate and care for himself like he should. But now, she felt unable to do even that much, not that she’d give up trying.

Saeran wished to dismiss her and her actions entirely, evident from his need to spew the fact that he bestowed upon her the label of being less than a person, his toy. His play thing.

That sick twisting she felt pooling in her gut upon first hearing the term “cleansing” seemed all too in place.

Ray, as sweet as her prince charming was, had a knack for leaving out important details about this museum of wonder. To her best guess, it was done to avoid panic as none of what went on here could be viewed as normal, or ok. He only briefly mentioned things like the “elixir”, such as on the night V arrived to spiral this place’s plans into chaos.

That was the night she could officially mark a great importance in staying, despite the vast network of lies.

Uyu wasn’t entirely stupid, she had an idea of what the elixir might be a while back, but it was still hard to process regardless.

Saeran threatened to give her one of these cleansing ceremonies...and said he could “draw out the maximum pain in the process”, telling her whatever happened to him hurt. A “no duh” moment indeed, but it was confirmation.

Ray suffered, for no reason other than he was too enwrapped in his blooming feelings for her, something that shouldn’t be taken as a negative but was. It displeased the savior that his chains which bound him by the ankles began to jingle with his new yearning to take flight.

She couldn’t allow herself to lie down and give the savior the satisfaction of breaking her, not when she still had so much to do, and not when Saeran and the RFA were at risk.

As the cool night-time air blew around them, feeling its whisper through her long locks of hair, Ray opened up about Mint Eye’s beliefs as a sanctuary for the “weak”, who had no choice but to lock themselves away to avoid further hurt.

He clearly viewed himself as someone in this category. Weak. But Saeran? Saeran shoved and shouted, which felt like a complete opposite to Ray’s whimpers and pleading. He even went as far as to accuse her of manipulation, of treating Ray like a puppet as she watched him dance to the harp she plucked.

Looking past his outburst and itch to watch her squirm, there stood a man seething with hate sparked entirely by twisted lies and his own fears. He gave himself away rather quickly as he attempted to say she messed with “hisna vefeelings” for some “big plan”.

She had to trust that there were boundaries he wouldn’t cross, being so close to her and forceful...and that was where her panic truly lied. But for now, she’d bank on the idea that he just wanted to scare her, staying alert in case he went too far. There were vases around from Ray’s various gifts that could be used as a weapon during the extreme. Unlike her, Saeran had no fighting skills either, but currently she was a bit too ill for those measures.

For once, a room so pink made her feel neither cozy nor at home.

Uyu’s fuzzy morning vision was then attracted to a black blob hanging on the doorknob. With a little eye rub, she made it out to be a dress, and a rather pretty one at that. In the way it was cut, it would expose much of her shoulders and upper back, the top front of it connected to a bow tied around the back of a neck piece with strings of fabric; like an attached choker. She could only assume it was a “gracious gift” bestowed upon her from the man she saw take Ray’s place. Apparently, he has a thing for black.

Her little device chimed again, and then once more, third time giving her the last push of annoyance she needed to reach over and respond to the opened chatroom.

She sighed with relief seeing Seven was the person active online, as she could now pester him with questions about what he was seeing on his end of the fight. They typed away, Uyu expressing concern for both of the hackers as they discussed Ra-Saeran’s new careless and aggressive tactics to snag him a victory.

As time passed, Jumin joined to ask questions as well, mainly circling around the governmental commendation from the Prime Minister to recognize the RFA for their charity work. Uyu stuck to her gut and pushed against the idea of it being a complete positive.

While both V and Seven acted oddly around the idea of the commendation, the RFA was also just a small organization which had only held two parties previous to Rika’s “passing”. The award was too fishy to trust in her judgment, especially now that she understood things going on around here weren’t at all what they had seemed to be.

Mint Eye wasn’t the only organization she was caught in that held its secrets.

After a bit of talking, Jumin agreed that the prime minister’s reasoning had to be figured out before any final decisions could be made. Everyone logged off, Seven returning to the battlefield and Jumin to stitching in his car.

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

The need for food grew worse.

Uyu showered and changed into the outfit provided…not having much of a choice to do otherwise unless she wanted to rewear old clothing. She felt down and sluggish as she dressed the way her toy maker willed, the dark frills of her attire tickling against her thighs as her step dragged. She was still ok enough to make herself look presentable, even if done at such a pace.

Her hair changed to a solid dark brown color as it took in the shower water, the gold ombré reaching her tips returning upon giving it a blow dry, making sure Saeran would have less to scoff next he saw her. She wasn’t aiming to avoid his crude comments, but instead trying to make herself feel good. Call her smelly all he wants, she knows she isn’t.

Saeran was aiming to play into her insecurities, maybe full well knowing she had so very many of them as he tried to wind her up. The least she could do was confirm his lies to be lies in the ways she knew how, if not for him then for her. She couldn’t allow him to figure out what made her gears stop, whether his words were true or not. This was no game of knife throwing, and she was no target.

11:00 AM crept up on her as she moped around quietly in her dollhouse, waiting for Saeran to come and try to take a good yanking on her marionette strings.

Dan sat upon the bed as the empty-headed feeling and banging in her temple raged, shifting to lay down fully and make herself more comfortable. If she stood for too long, she’d sway and wobble as her vision turned to black, purple and green swirls, momentarily clouding both her sight and mind.

Despite her numerous texts and occasional calls, she still heard nothing from Saeran. Not a peep.

She was growing restless as well as worried for him, and what would become of her as she continued to go unfed.

Her phone buzzed, shifting her attention over to it groggily, eyes half lidded as she wanted to sleep off this sinking feeling. Soon, she’d start to go down like the Titanic as lunch time acted as her iceberg.

Uyu hoped it was her self-proclaimed master, only to let out a grumble seeing that it wasn’t. Instead, it was Zen who had logged on.

She chatted with him, trying her best not to voice her ever-growing discomfort from skipping last night’s dinner as well as that morning’s breakfast, lunch time now creeping just around the corner.

After a quick talk, she’d call Saeran again...as uncomfortable as that conversation would be, it was her only viable option to kill the onslaught of nausea.

As they talked for a while, Yoosung joined the conversation as well….with talk of food; stew he was in the middle of making to be precise. She felt her stomach churn and rumble as the need for rest fell over her like a weighted blanket, being the only escape from the inevitable vomit now building up inside.

She logged off within another couple of seconds as the hot sweat began.

Dan swallowed thickly as her stomach went haywire, guts twisting, coaxing her to run to the toilet and empty out the water she could at least keep herself going on from the bathroom tap.

Leaving her phone on the bed, she rose to her feet best she could, stumbling till she reached the cold tiles of the bathroom floor. There, she fell to her knees, pulling her long hair back and away from her damp face, lifting up the toilet seat before her.

Within a mere moment, she felt the contents claw at the inside of her throat with a burning sensation, attempting to break free. She shuddered as her body suddenly fell in temperature, before allowing whatever her tummy could offer up to slip past her lips, color in her face all too faded away, displaying her illness. Gagging and choking noises echoed throughout the small room as the rather clearish liquid flowed from her mouth, tears from the discomfort blurring her vision as she blinked them away.

She stayed like that by the toilet for a while, throwing up a couple more times before making certain that event was over for the time being. Uyu considered herself extremely lucky that none was able to touch her or end up in her hair, but not nice to say vomiting wasn’t new to her. She knew the tricks.

Oddly, when something like this would happen, it gave her a tiny amount of strength back. It was strangely relieving, although emptying her stomach further. Her tummy was able to untense a tad.

She blew her nose and wiped her eyes before giving it all a flush down.

A fast teeth brush followed before she stumbled over to bed where she had left her phone. She fiddled with the RFA app until she could reach Saeran’s contact profile. Trying not to let the dread of being ignored again wash over her, she dialed up his number, both nervous and praying this time for a response.

After that last fit was over, her condition would move her into another stage, passing out being the only thing to come next without the blood sugar spike she needed.

The ringing went on for what felt like an eternity as she groaned and pressed her face into the pillow.

“Pick up...pick up damn it please pick up…”.

Uyu wished that she had made a bigger fuss over this earlier rather than attempting to swallow it and wait it out. Being distracted by “the savior” and Saeran’s screaming was something she shouldn’t have allowed herself to do in the midst of endangering her own health. What was she thinking? She knew it would reach this point, it always does if left unchecked. She internally cursed herself for not speaking up more assertively.

After another moment, his angry voice finally came through the speaker and she sighed softly with relief. The last she had heard from him was at four in the morning.

“Feeling this lonely and desperate already, hmm? Tch...what makes you think you have the right to contact me over and over again when I’m doing important work unlike you?”

She huffed on the other end, which he paid no mind.

“All you do is fiddle around like a good for nothing. You didn’t seem so happy to chat with me last time we spoke, but now you’re all eager and ready? You’re just itching for another visit aren’t you? Impatient little princess~.”

He let out an airy chuckle, finding her repeated acts of calling him rather amusing.

“Don’t worry. I have play time all planned out for you soon, you pest. I’ll bother you ten times more than you ever bothered me-”

She cut off his angry rambling, mumbling quietly as she spoke.

“Saeran...can you please come here? I’m not well right now and I don’t know how much longer I can keep myself functioning...I already threw up-”

“Speak up, you complainer! Seriously? You want to see me so badly that you’d put on an elaborate show? Princess...you can’t win any sort of sympathy from me by acting like a brat. Ugg, I’m going to hang up now. I’ll be imagining the million ways I can punish you for this later, stupid toy. I’m busy! Too busy for a bug like you to understand! You waste my time-”

“Wait please...please come here...it’s harder for me to explain over the phone. I...mentioned this problem earlier..please…”

And she had, briefly attempting to bring it up as he invaded a chat room between her and Jaehee.

“Begging now?”

He took on a sad tone of childish mockery as he continued.

“Please please please...please come see me... AHAHA! You airhead. I know what your medical records look like, and therefore I know you’re spinning a lie. You’re not to be trusted just as my savior says. There’s nothing there pertaining to some sort of eating issue other than the fact that your weak little body can’t handle milk…‘Uyu’~.”

He teased at her chosen nickname, and while the irony was why it was picked, this was less than fun.

“Now quit whining over an empty stomach when it hasn’t even been a full day! It’s no fun to see you give up so fast!”

Dan tried her best not to slur her speech, the task assigned to speak up being too hard of one to follow.

“Fine...fine don’t believe me. But…..it doesn’t hurt to come anyways. Since you want to see me suffer….or whatever….”

“Or whatever??? Toy, if I come see you right now...you won’t like what you’re going to get. I haven’t an ounce of pity in me to give you if that’s what you’re searching for. I'm not the type to let you rest in my lap as I stroke your hair and tell you it will be alright, and I won’t give in and feed you. Instead, I’ll make sure you never wish to call me again.”

“...ok…”

“Ok? Ok?? Haha! ...ok then. Let’s see how pathetic you’ve become as you beg and plead to me in person, little actor. Playtime is happening earlier today than I had planned. Congratulations! I’m extra pissed.”

Call ended.

She let out a puff of air, dropping her phone down next to her before closing her eyes, not bothering to stand in preparation for his arrival.

Next chapters All chapters

#suit saeran #ray mystic messenger #saeran x mc #Uyu #Dan Byeol #mystic messenger cmc

13 notes · View notes

wlw-lovestruck-fiction · 4 years ago

Note

Lavinia fluff fic, with some angst in the middle to give it a little bit of ✨spice✨

Written by @cute-ogre

Her friend is hurting again, she is trying so hard to give the heart back to Lavinia, but she can’t.

She feels the anger and the frustration rising.

She can’t control it.

Lavinia can’t control Her.

“Let’s try again.”

“I told you! I don’t know if i-”

The wind get stronger and snow starts to fall in a storm, the forest around them starting to freeze up, and the shivering blonde woman in front of her is trying to hold her ground, play the hero. Trying to be brave, but she is nervous, that much is obvious.

I should’ve never talked to her in the first place, now I care about her and she is in danger and I can’t stop it

She can feel the anger, the bitter taste of madness that is possessing her body.

“Give it back, now!”

Her own voice sounds cold, demanding, echoing in the stillness of the now completely frozen forest, She steps closer to this girl in front of Her, that stupid little thing that is nothing more than it, a girl standing on Her way.

“I’m trying to!” The generational thieve waves her hand wildly.

“If you don’t give it back willingly, I will take it from you!”

The Ice Queen watches the girl give a step back for each step She gives forward until her back hits the frozen trunk of a tree, trapped, eyes staring on hers unwavering, but her chest raising and falling faster than before.

“Lavinia, please…”

There a low tone on her voice, almost pleading.

“What? Are you scared of me?” She is inclining Her head to the side, pretending worry “Owww, don’t you like to see me in a crown?”

The Queen smiles, cold as stone, bringing Her face closer to the little thief to whisper taunting.

“Tell me, which one is worse, living to see me kill everyone you care about or dying first?”

“Lavinia, that’s not you, you are not like this, please!” A killer sweetness appears in the Queen’s voice then.

“Oh, but I am. Give me back what you family stole from me and maybe I will be kind enough to let you go.

“I’m trying I swear!”

Hands hitting the trunk brusquely, framing the girl’s head and trapping her even further, the Queen growl.

“Trying is not enough. I don’t care if you die doing this. Give. My. Heart. Back!”

She watches the blonde flinch, closing her eyes. There’s a long pause and when her eyes open again The Ice Queen is overwhelmed with the sudden softness in those grey orbs. She blinks when the sweet and calm voice whispers hesitantly.

“Please, I understand that you are angry, you are hurt and I’m so so sorry, but I swear to you that I don’t want to keep a piece of you heart, I just want to put it back in place.

The snow around them start to fall more calmly now.

“It’s mine. It’s my heart.” The Queen grunts. Making the woman she trapped between Her arms nod, locks of dark blond hair caressing the pale skin of Her forearms.

“It’s yours, it is, and it should never have been of anyone else.” She says it oh, so kindly, and The Queen feels like She is suffocating, fighting against something She can’t touch, like drowning without water around Her “That’s why I’m trying to find a way to give it back, it belongs to you and that man should’ve never accepted it in the first place.” she pauses, swallowing. “Whe- When we love somebody, we don’t want to posses any part of them, freely given or not. Because love it’s not possession, so just being lucky enough to receive your love should have been enough for him. He didn’t need a reminder of it. I’m so sorry that he acted that way with you.”

The ice started to melt, the Queen’s eyes searching the other woman’s face, trying to understand her.

“Why are you saying those things? What do you want from me?”

“Nothing, I just want to help.”

The way this woman touches her left cheek, warm hand burning in her cold skin, makes something break inside of her. Lavinia closes her eyes, feeling warmth in her chest, making her mostly frozen heart beat faster.

It’s weird. She is not used to this feeling. To this warmth.

And oh, she knows that she isn’t all cold, but then most of the time she just doesn’t have it in her to be warm.

Warm in this moment, comes in the form of this beautiful woman, that seems to have the moon in her eyes and fire in her soul, Lavinia can’t stop looking.

“Why aren’t you scared? Why don’t you run? You know, I’m not one the good guys, not even close to it.”

The burning hands are trembling, but start a painfully soft caress, and Lavinia can feel her tense body slowly start to relax.

“I’m not scared because I know you, and while you are not all good, you are also not all evil. I don’t run because I know you are hurting, and I care about you. I-I like like you.”

Her words come out a little bit tremulous, teeth clattering, her cheeks pink and lips a little bit purple from the cold. Her warm breath hitting the cold air and becoming vapor after each word.

Lavinia can’t look away, her hand moving to touch the women’s face, seeing her pale fingers contrast beautifully with golden skin, learning in slowly until their foreheads touch, noses brushing softly, letting scape a little incredulous laugh.

Everything about this girl seems too good to be true.

And yet, when another warm hand touches her neck, Lavinia can’t hold back, her cold lips crashing against the warm, trembling lips of this absolutely intriguing woman.

She hears a gasp, and then she is being kissed back, slow and softly, burning hands in her hair and neck while her own hands trail delicately a path to the small of the blonde’s back ,pressing the soft body more firmly against her own, feeling the tips of her fingers burn from the warmth.

The soft trembling sigh in response makes her smile slightly, tongue tracing full lips softly, feeling her own lips tingling from the contact.

The woman was shivering from Lavinia’s ice, as much as Lavinia was trembling from her fire.

I’m going to freeze her. She is going to melt me.

And maybe that’s fair.

She feels warm hands grabbing the back of her shoulders, pulling her closer.

Or maybe we will cancel each other out

The Queen presses the little bookworm harder against the tree truck making her arch her back.

Maybe that’s was what I was supposed to feel all along.

She feels a little moan against her mouth, giving a not so gentle tug on the blonde’s hair in response.

Her body shivers.

Lavinia’s body shivers in response.

Like I’m not the only one giving, the only one shivering from a touch

Like I’m not the only one who cares

She ends the kiss, panting heavily, looking at the flush in the other women’s cheeks, the skin there as red as her own.

Moonlight eyes never looking away.

“You calmed me down, I- I never..”

“I will help you fix this. Please let me help you.”

Lavinia looks at her, sincerity bleeding from every pore.

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

She is taking way more than one piece of my heart as hostage

The Queen thinks, a little bit annoyed, but can’t do anything but smile softly at this hurricane of a woman.

Give my heart back, keep all of me instead

“Yeah. But you better make yourself useful, you nerd.”

“I will.”

The blonde smiles back at her, so brightly that is like staring at the fucking sun, Lavinia doesn’t look away, can’t look away.

Way more than a piece of my heart indeed

Oh shit, that will be complicated

“Good.”

“Lavinia, can I ask you a question?”

“Hmh.” The blue eyed woman answer distractedly, looking at red swollen lips that are curling in a mischievous smile, before singsonging.

“Do you wanna build a snowman?”

“Oh, fuck you!”

“Keep laughing and I will turn you into a snowman, you little shit.”

The loud, bold laugh that echoed in the forest was followed by a reluctantly amused.

“Bold of you to assume that it wouldn’t be the coolest thing to ever happen to me.”

#answered #anonymous #lovestruck #women of lovestruck #eaa lavinia #lavinia x mc #ever after academy #ever after academy lavinia #fluff #fluffy angst #slight angst #touching thursday

43 notes · View notes

asteroiideae · 4 years ago

Text

okay, so I don’t make these kinds of posts often because tbh I’m a little lazy and very tired like 24/7 lmao but I’ve been seeing a lot of Pride reading lists hit my dash (and they’re excellent, and I save them all!) buuuut reading books is still a roadblock I’m struggling to mentally overcome -- and audiobooks are great, but they take 84 years (sometimes literally???) to get through. so! I thought I’d share a (very tiny) list of the queer manga I’ve read this year that you might enjoy for Pride, with some descriptions/trigger warnings/thoughts to go with them. so here we go in no particular order other than where they sit on my bookshelf:

What Did You Eat Yesterday? by Fumi Yoshinaga

okay so I know I go on about this manga at literally every presented opportunity, but I honestly just can’t help myself??? as a thirty-something queer adult, I really love the quiet maturity of this relationship between Shiro and Kenji; especially when it’s highlighted by references to shenanigans of their youth, and the ways in which they are still growing as both individuals and a couple. I’ve only read the first six volumes but I’m OBSESSED.

Status: Ongoing (17 volumes; 15 translated) Summary: Shiro and Kenji are an established adult couple with separate careers and interests, whose relationship is depicted over the meals cooked for them by Shiro. This doesn’t have an overarching plot, which might be off-putting for some readers; each chapter can be compared to a fanfic one-shot, usually containing it’s own tiny storyline or theme. It’s literally just domestic moments and meals shared between these men. Warnings: While I didn’t personally have a problem with this, younger readers might find some of the dated terms offensive. If you’ve spent any time with older queer folks (older as in 45-50+) this won’t be anything you aren’t used to, but if your experience of queer folx skews younger or online, you might get taken by surprise. There’s also some internalized homophobia; and by some I mean quite a bit. Shiro’s personal arc (at least in the first six volumes) heavily revolves around how much he closets himself and tries desperately to pass as “normal” in Japanese business culture.

Boys Run The Riot by Keito Gaku

holy shit holy shit holy SHIT. this story is so good??? so VERY good??? I was a little cautious, and a little bit uninterested in a story about teens (only because I’m in my thirties and crave more adult representation,) but I was VERY WRONG to be. Boys Run The Riot is beautifully drawn, beautifully written, and probably my favorite work on this list. the mangaka is also trans so the inherent understanding and nuance of our protagonist’s experience is really lovely. Also featuring a fantastic brotp between a trans boy and his new himbo bestie; no seriously if you want a story about a trans boy getting to have good broships with other boys his own age I CANNOT stress this enough. Volume two is releasing next month; I have it preordered. I’m laying on my floor wishing for time to hurry the fuck up. I need more of this smol angry trans boy and his big soft himbo bff. PLS. Status: Ongoing (4 volumes published; 2 translated) Summary: Ryo Watari is a second year high school student who is trans and struggling to feel comfortable with his very rigidly structured life at school, at home, and among his friends (to whom he is not out.) By chance he meets Jin Sato, a cis boy who also feels outcast (often judged for his appearance without any deeper thought.) When Ryo comes out to Jin in a state of frustration, Jin accepts who Ryo is and makes an offer -- why not start a fashion line that subverts all the expectations that have been put on them both; why not express themselves even when they’ve been told they shouldn’t. Warnings: Ryo is struggling with gender dysphoria, and it is written by someone who has probably experienced it, so it might be a little real for any trans folks who deal with that. Also, while neither the narrative nor Jin misgender Ryo (at least, not once he expresses to Jin that he is a man), Ryo is not out to anyone else and so he frequently is misgendered at school and we see how badly that impacts him and the way he views himself and processes his emotions. Ryo spends a lot of time being angry and trying to swallow it down, and that can be very raw to witness at times. There is also a depiction of unsafe binding (though the mangaka has an immediate note about binding safety, and goes further in-depth at the back of the manga.)

Our Dining Table by Mita Ori

okay, so I was a bit on the fence about whether or not I wanted to include this as a rec, but I decided that it might actually been what someone wants or needs, so here it is! while I really enjoyed this concept, and I’m always a sucker for found family stories (let me tell you I’m queer without telling you I’m queer, much?) it feels like this story is a bit rushed at times, and the romantic relationship between our protagonists is very blink and you’ll miss it. I don’t even want to call it subtle so much as it is just not remotely the focus of the story so it’s a little startling when it happens. but! if you’re looking for a story about adults processing grief and trauma together, and learning how to care for another person (and as a result, learning how to care for themselves,) this is a nice read that isn’t too heavy! Status: Complete (one volume) Summary: Yutaka is a salaryman whose past experiences prevent him from reaching out to others, even through something so simple as sharing a meal. Despite this is REALLY loves to cook, and wishes he had a reason to do it more often. Then he meets Minoru, and his muuuuuch younger brother Tane (it’s like a 17 year age gap between the brothers?) and finds himself teaching them how to cook, and overcoming his fear of eating in front of others. Warnings: Good news, there’s no overt homophobia in this story! Bad news, the other trauma makes up for it! We have a lot of trauma surrounding parental death, childhood bullying, and adoption; in addition to an actual fear of eating in front of others.

Our Dreams at Dusk / Shimanami Tasogare by Yuhki Kamatani

this is the first manga series I collected, and I’m still very pleased about that. the art is ABSOLUTELY stunning? the use of visual imagery and surreal analogies to explain queerness is fucking on POINT. I cried so hard during a couple of these volumes I developed a migraine. I only have one piece of critique on the whole thing (addressed in the warnings,) and I intend to do another re-read when I’m ready for the catharsis of sobbing into my pillow again. Like Boys Run The Riot, Our Dreams at Dusk is drawn and written by a member of the queer community (a non-binary mangaka, this time,) and as a result it hits pretty fucking close to home in a lot of ways. while I really love this series it’s super not for the faint of heart, you WILL come out of this reading experience with some things to unpack. Status: Completed (4 volumes; 4 translated) Summary: We mostly follow Tasuku Kaname, as he is outted at school by a classmate as being homosexual, and his initial despair and subsequent journey of acceptance. In this process, Tasuku finds himself at a drop-in center, which seems to primarily function as a safe space for queer people; we meet several lesbians, an elderly gay man, a trans character, and a young character who isn’t ready for any kind of label because they are still ??? about themselves and their identity. Each of these “secondary” characters is given room to breathe and to work through difficulties of their own while Tasuku watches and learns that even though life is hard sometimes, there’s beauty to be found in one’s own strength. Warnings: hoooo boy; well there’s all kinds of homophobia and transphobia; a character is outted against their will (multiple times), there’s some really insidious transphobia covered by “concern”, there’s internalized homophobia everywhere, and a very complicated asexual character whose presentation left me (as an ace) with super mixed feelings and a lot of frustration (though I wouldn’t call it bad necessarily; just wanted to put that out there for my fellow asexual folks.) If you have read (or go on to read!) any of these, please let me know! I’d love to chat about the stories, and hear your thoughts on them -- because we’re a broad/diverse community and our own experiences shape us differently and give us different insights. <3 ANYWAY, for those of you who read this monstrous self-indulgent post, thank you! Feel free to add any queer manga you’ve been reading below - I’m always on the hunt for more recs!

#happy pride #manga recs #gay representation #queer representation #trans characters #asexual characters #gay characters #everything in-between tbh

10 notes · View notes

peachcitt · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! You've mentioned on Discord that you read a lot of books, and I was wondering if you could rec some? Either your favourites, or ones that had a big impact on you/your writing 🥺

yes!!! all my favorite books generally affect my writing style, and often after ive finished reading a really good book, i'll write something and end up emulating that book's style (either on accident or on purpose haha). sometimes on my ao3 you'll find in my author's notes me saying what book i just finished, and if you read or know those books, you'll probably see me mimicking certain aspects of style

for other reccommendations/more in depth descriptions of book plots, i also have a reading list that i posted this past winter on my writing blog that you can check out, and im planning on posting another one at the end of the summer!! (in fact ive already started the list lmao)

the list will be structured as follows: book or series name, author, and a couple reasons why i like it. in addition to this, i will put stars by author's names if i have read other books by them and greatly enjoyed them.

without further ado:

The Grishaverse by Leigh Bardugo*

this has got to be my favorite series of all time. i love bardugo's capability to write complex characters and complicated plots, and i really like the way she structures her books. the series is just so artfully done and when i finished it i was so perfectly satisfied and so perfectly sad because i mourned the fact that it was over

I am the Messenger by Markus Zusak*

literally my favorite book. this is the book i tell people is my favorite if anyone asks. i love zusak's casual humor alongside his ability to write such heartbreaking and heavy moments in just little scraps of images. it's a romantic book without being about romance - it's about love and kindness and how powerful those things can be be, and that shit gets me every time. i have reread this book so many times - yearly since i got it, i think, and i got in middle school, i think. im in college now. and every time i reread it, i get something different out of it

The Chaos Walking Trilogy by Patrick Ness*

i think about these books constantly. these were the first books i read by patrick ness, and, now that ive read some of his other books, i know in classic patrick ness fashion, these books haunt me. patrick ness has this uncanny ability to take genres you think you know and twist and warp them until you're on the edge of your seat trying to figure out what will happen next without the safety net of genre supporting the story. in addition to that, his characters are always wonderfully flawed - he puts real people into fantastical situations, and it's fascinating and always an emotional and satisfying read

The Alex Crow by Andrew Smith*

dude i think about the alex crow so much. i said i normally call i am in the messenger my favorite book, but every so often i'll say this one is because i just love it so much. the alex crow is just so bafflingly weird but the teenage boy main characters are so real and gross and hilarious. andrew smith has the amazing knack for writing weird as hell plot lines and telling stories that are about everything, all at once, while still making it about one thing. that doesn't make sense, but if you read the alex crow (or his other book i've read called Grasshopper Jungle that is actually on my summer list) then you will know what i mean. the alex crow is so many things, and i love all of them

I'll Give You the Sun by Jandy Nelson*

i used to read a lot of ya romance and, to be honest, the stuff i used to read was not all great, but this book absolutely changed the game and probably made me raise my standards exponentially. the timeline of this book is so creative, and it's done in such a way that it leaves you wondering how the timelines will reconcile. in addition to this, both romances in the book are so interesting and loveable, and the relationship between the two main characters (who are twins) is an amazing thing to see unfold. this is a peak ya romance book, and i can't recommend it enough

Holding Up the Universe by Jennifer Niven*

another ya romance, and i have to say the romance in this book is so beautifully done. generally, this is just a really sweet book that gave me butterflies, to be quite honest. i think niven has a really good knack for writing characters that are diverse and a little strange but all have their own distinct personalities that mingle really interestingly with each other.

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe By Benjamin Alire Sáenz

this one is an obvious choice, and for good reason. aristotle and dante is just a classic queer novel, and it's earned its place as such. it's a poetic sort of book, and i love the voices of the characters, as well as the pictures of the world we get through ari's voice. this is a visual book written in text - i think a lot about the steady, careful romance of the book and the way sáenz makes ari an unreliable narrator by artfully excluding his feelings from scene descriptions and dialogue tags. it's such a creative and heartbreaking technique that i often find myself wanting to do

The Leviathan Trilogy by Scott Westerfeld

oooohh this trilogy changed me. for starters its such a weird, creative concept - alternate history steampunk and biopunk world war I. like doesn't that sound so interesting?? and this trilogy's main characters are so easy to love - and watching their relationship unfold and develop is so endearing. also, my copies include these wonderful illustrations (which i think might be in all copies?) that really let you put images to the weird fantastical things westerfeld included into the world.

The 7 1/2 Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle by Stuart Turton

this book was actually on my winter book list, and i read it so fast and so obsessively because i wanted so badly to know what was going to happen. the plot absolutely pulled me in, and the first line - "I forgot everything between footsteps" - stuck with me because just look at the way that's written!! it's so artful and intriguing, i was just dying to know what would happen next. the timeline is this amazing maze that as i read i couldn't help but admire how long or how much turton had to plan in order to make everything line up in just the right way. it was a fascinating book with so much to say - im really looking forward to reading it again

The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern

this book was also on my winter book list, and it just absolutely enraptured me. its witty, quiet sort of voice was amazing to read, and the imagery instilled into every scene made it seem like everything was so real, just right there for me to touch or smell or taste. the plot of a secret huge magic library really roped me in, and i think this is a love story for people who read, people who love stories, people who love the magic of a library.

Meddling Kids by Edgar Cantero*

cantero's works are just so creatively written - not just by plot or character standards, but by style standards, too. meddling kids is great not just for its complex, loveable characters or for its fantastical, dark, and mysterious plot, but also for the weird and intriguing liberties cantero makes with style. in his other books, too, is the switch between snarkily written prose to stage directions to video or audio transcripts, and it makes for such a visual sort of book - i mean, i could easily see any of cantero's books being made into a film or series because all the material is right there. cantero's creativity with style is so intriguing to me, and because of him, i've become more familiar with playing around in style in an attempt to create something as interesting as his novels

and that's all i'll put down here now!

i mentioned it a little, but probably my biggest style references are leigh bardugo, markus zusak, edgar cantero, and andrew smith for various reasons that i am more than willing to talk more in depth about if anyone is wondering<3

thank you for asking im always willing to talk books :')

#ask #miabrown007 #book rec list #book recs #long post #I ALWAYS TALK SO MUCH WHEN IT COMES TO BOOKS IM SO SORRY #someone: what are you favorite books? / me (vibrating at the speed of sound):#anyway if anyone is truly curious about my style references just send me an ask and i will answer!

10 notes · View notes

gffa · 5 years ago

Text

I was talking with @himboskywalker about Tolkien and fandom and fic, because I’m always curious where people’s “area” of the wider Legendarium are at, whether they’re a fan of the Dwarves or the Humans or the Elves or the Valar or what! (As a surprise to absolutely no one, the Elves are where my heart is at, where I very much love the Noldor, but if you give me a choice I’m going to run over to that Sindar-centric fic every time.) Which got us onto the topic of fic recs, where, yes, I’ve done a LOT of Tolkien fic recs but I tend to read something of a wide variety and this is a list specifically aimed at those who are familiar with the wider Tolkien world, but haven’t really read much fic and want to know where to start! Other Recs First: - If you haven’t gotten further into Tolkien’s work (like say beyond the movies), I’ve done something of a primer here, which includes fic recs and brief explanations and links to videos that help explain some things. It’s not as hard as it seems to get involved, honest! - Some other fic recs here, as an addition to the above. - My Tolkien blog (which I haven’t been on in awhile, though, I haven’t let it go in my heart yet) has, I’m not kidding, A LOT of fic recs, I did recs regularly for about three years, so it’s almost as massive as my collection of SW recs. If I Could Only Pick Three To Start You With: ✦ And What Happened After by thearrogantemu - This is the fic that took me from enjoying the Silm characters to diving face-first into really loving them, because it wove such an engaging story about the characters sailing to Aman at the end of LOTR, where various characters you wouldn’t think interacting would be as meaningful as they are, but the fic absolutely sells them on it. Frodo and Feanor having a conversation about language? Sam and Maglor sharing a boat to the West? These things are amazing, as this is a fic about healing and what it means to sail into the Undying Lands. Also, it has a Feanor and Fingolfin reunion that literally put tears in my eyes. ✦ Interrupted Journeys by ellisk - I’m generally not someone who does a lot of rereading of fic just because I have so many new ones to get to, but I’ve read my favorites in this series (parts 3 to 5 are my sweet spot especially) probably four times through now because “Elfling Legolas growing up in Greenwod with a whole cast of characters around him, as the Shadow so very, very slowly creeps towards them” may sound somewhat simple, but the worldbuilding here is off the scale. The weaving in of how much the First Age and various Elven politics influenced Thranduil’s ruling of a Silvan people is a major theme, but it’s also good parents raising that precious Elfling right and he and his cousins+friends getting into all sorts of mischief, so it’s balanced between humor and drama in the exact amounts I want. You can skip the first two fics and jump into the third if you like, which is when Legolas is introduced, but I enjoy the whole thing. ✦ Return to Aman OR Quenta Narquelion by bunn - I can’t pick between these two, they’re both incredible. Return to Aman is basically “Elrond grabs Maglor and drags him to Aman with them” and it breaths such incredible lift into all the characters of Aman, it doesn’t negate the terrible things the Feanorians did, but neither does it negate Elrond’s love for them and his biological family, too. It’s another fic that’s about healing and forgiveness and it made me glow to read it. Quenta Narquelion is basically “Feanor refused the call of Mandos after he died and everything started to snowball from there” and it’s an absolutely heartbreaking look at all our Problematic Fave Feanorians and how they were once good people trying to do the best they could, but bit by bit they slipped into the dark. It’s especially amazing for capturing the complexities of Feanor, as he hovers over his children as a spirit and it really brought me around on his character. The Silmarillion and other First Age Batshit Faves: ✦ The Starlit Sky by Cirth is the fic that really made me get the potential of reading about Maedhros and Maglor raising Elrond and Elros, where it does such a fantastic job of showing that there was genuine affection there, even the midst of all the angst and trauma and pain. You really get why Elrond could never give up on them, after reading this fic. ✦ In Courts of Living Stone by ncfan - “What if Maeglin never left Nan Elmoth and instead, several decades later, found himself on an errand to Menegroth and developed a relationship with Finduilas instead?” isn’t a fic I expected to capture my heart, but boy did it ever. Beautiful characterization and beautiful writing, it really captured my imagination, but also gave me ALLLLLL the Maeglin feelings, as well as made me pine that this Finduilas couldn’t have been more common in fandom. ✦ naught but the shores and the sea by ncfan is more of Elrond and Maglor, where it’s an AU that has Elrond finding Maglor after the disastrous attempt to recover the Silmarils and I loved it a lot. ✦ The Crane Wife by Trebia is one that takes an underused character from Tolkien (Lalwen, in this case) and breathes this incredible life into her, gives her personality and joy and sorrow and meaning and, look, any fic that can convince me that Thranduil would marry a Noldo and utterly believe it, you know it’s well-written! The Second Age Is Kind of Quiet in Fandom But I Love It Regardless: ✦ The Art of Long-Distance Grandparenting by Kazaera is a lovely and bittersweet (but mostly lighter in tone) fic about the separation of the Sea between family members and does a wonderful job with Idril’s character, as she tries to stay connected to her grandchildren while being so distant from them and unable to see them, unless they choose to come to Aman. There’s joy to be found here and it’s a lovely read. ✦ Relativity by French Pony is a lovely look at the final meeting between Elrond and Elros and strikes the right amount of bittersweetness, where it’s awkward and difficult and heartbreaking, but also feels natural and like this was how it was meant to be. I had many, many Elven Twin feelings during the whole thing. (I like all their fic, they’re worth checking out their other stuff for, too!) ✦ A Thing or Two About Elrond by Crookneck is a series of fics about Elrond and the various relationships he has--with Celebrian, with his children, with Gil-Galad, etc.--and I remember being really charmed by all of them and how much shit Elrond has seen over the course of his life. The Third Age, Lord of the Rings Version: ✦ Boromir's Return by Osheen Nevoy - This one is sort hard to summarize, but it’s basically “Boromir lives, makes a friend, and slowly changes everything about the LOTR plot”, but it’s so much more than that, where the worldbuilding is phenomenal, the pacing is incredible, it made me fall in love with Boromir as a character all over again, it contains probably the best portrayal of Denethor I’ve ever read in fandom, and I really loved the OC and so on. It’s utterly engrossing and honestly I cannot recommend it highly enough, even if you’re not usually into this sort of thing. ✦ The River by Indigo Bunting is a fic where Legolas and Sam get separated from the others for a brief time and I love fics that take two characters who don’t interact much, throw them into an intense situation, and sees what happens. It’s not precisely a light-hearted fic, it’s very intense, but it’ll make you fall in love with the sheer good in both characters and the friendship they develop. It’s brilliantly written and I cannot recommend it enough. ✦ A Bit of Rope by Aiwendiel is a fic where Gandalf doesn’t fall at Moria and it changes everything--not necessarily for the better. The slow, creeping sense of things changing, things going just a little bit worse here and there, until you realize how much darker the Fellowship’s journey could have been, was brilliantly done, and one I thought did justice to the idea, it’s not grimdark, there’s still light and hope here, but it makes you feel like, oh, maybe things happened as they did for a reason, even as hard as that seemed sometimes. Gorgeously plotted and utterly engrossing. The Third Age, Mirkwood Version: ✦ daw the minstrel has an entire series of fics about Legolas growing up in Mirkwood and there’s absolutely a reason why she was one of the most well-known authors in that corner of fandom. Her ability to create new characters (including two brothers for Legolas) was incredible, I cared so much about the family dynamics and got swept up in the drama (which was in a very loving family, but Legolas was definitely a mischief-seeker) and they’re fantastic. If you find yourself in something of a stretch with too many OCs and your attention wavers, you can always skip around, they don’t have to be read in order and a lot of the non-canon characters can be skimmed over, imo. ✦ In a Field of Blood and Stone by ScribeofArda is so much better than what The Hobbit movies gave us of the Battle of Five Armies, it does such beautiful justice to the complicated character of Thranduil and Legolas, not sacrificing the warmth there for how difficult these times are and the war they find themselves in the middle of. This Bard is also really engaging and fun to read--I read pretty much the entire novel’s worth in, like, a day or two because I could not put this one down. ✦ Swordplay and Swimming by cliodna_bright has an incredible meeting where Thranduil comes to visit Rivendell, runs into Elladan and Elrohir, who are young enough that they speak without thinking, and it’s not precisely a humor fic, but I was screaming the entire time because it’s so sharply written and so absolutely delightful, I LOVE IT. ✦ Deep and Crisp and Even by rivlee made me fall in love with how Elves and humans may look very similar, but there’s this sense of otherworldliness to the Elves, as shown through Bard’s eyes when he has a meeting with Thranduil. Beautifully written and just the right amount of atmospheric. The Fourth Age Where Everything Actually Does Mostly Work Out: ✦ Far Horizons by Bodkin is the Fourth Age fic of my heart, where the various Elves that we came to know in Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit are all in Aman and decide to build their own realm there. Which is difficult because Elven Politics even just amongst themselves, much less clashing with all the established politics of the other Elven realms in Aman! But it’s a light-hearted fic (for the most part) that’s about healing and moving forward, balancing their ties to their history versus that Middle-Earth changed them, and I love it for soothing my soul. (Thranduil sailed, you can’t tell me otherwise!!!)(Bonus moments of Glorfindel being pretty hilarious.) I like all of bodkin’s work, but this one has a special place with me. ✦ Age of Healing by trollmela is one where Maedhros and Legolas have a conversation in Aman and it’s about the bittersweetness of healing and how difficult it is, taking two characters who would never have met in canon and weaving something entirely engaging and poignant out of it. Collections That Span The Ages: ✦ This Taste of Shadow by Mira_Jade - This is a collection of dozens of various shorter stories (or sometimes 10k “ficlets”) that you can largely skip around in if you have specific characters you like or you can just start at the beginning and read through. It contains looks at pretty much everyone, from Maedhros to Galadriel to Thranduil to Elrond to Caranthir to Glorfindel to the Valar, etc. I’ve enjoyed pretty much everything I’ve read in this collection! ✦ Fiondil's Tapestry and Tales from Vairë's Loom by Fiondil are in the same vein and I have really enjoyed everything I’ve read from both of them! I especially remember that there was one chapter that had a scene between Thranduil and Cirdan and thinking, ahhhh, why has no one ever written that before!? as an example of the neat things it does. But also lots about Elrond and Glorfindel and the Valar and so on! This probably doesn’t feel like a super extensive list, but those collection series will give you an excellent spanning of Elves, Humans, Dwarves, Hobbits, etc., not just the same central characters, but giving time to a lot of lesser focused ones as well. Like, I feel I’ve read a fair chunk of Elwing fic, but I couldn’t point you to a specific one in my list of recs, which means I’m pretty sure it was in the collections ones or else she got some good scenes in one of the Aman-based fics, so I swear the above is at least a solid place to start for dipping one’s toe into Tolkien fic. AS ALWAYS, OTHER PEOPLE’S RECS ARE WELCOME, god knows I haven’t read anything in the last two years (and will have missed a lot even before that) and so I always need more recs, too!

#tolkien stuff #the silmarillion #fic recs #tolkien fic recs

175 notes · View notes

rachelillustrates · 4 years ago

Text

So..... WandaVision episode 6

Whoops, here I go fangirling on main again.

(Spoilers follow.)

Another great episode, and another with SO much to think about.

To get some negativity out of the way first - I am irritated that if Wanda's not behind literally everything, they're not doing more to foster compassion for her grief. There is more heavy-handed focusing on framing her as the villain, with the way they did the recap (though I am glad they included footage from Age of Ulton of what happened to Pietro) and with Hayward's choices and attitude, than there is on what she is going through and what compassion Monica, Jimmy, and Darcy have for her. I am grateful for what they've given us more on both those fronts this episode, but the point still stands. I am very worried that with the way they're framing things, they're just giving her haters more fodder. She is a complicated person, a grieving, mentally ill person, and very often people who are powerful, mentally ill and feminine-identifying/presenting are totally villainized and/or written off as crazy and dangerous. I'm worried the way they've presented her struggles so far falls too much to that side, in a way that the viewers won't be able to come back from.

Yes, Wanda is terrifying. She is also amazing, has gone through so much and she and her struggles deserve respect.

(Also I LOVE her.)

That aside, and relatedly, thank goodness for further clarity on the fact that Hayward is tracking Vision specifically and that he has an agenda surrounding him!! I am so worried for him but hello, more is going on there (again, look at what SWORD did to his body!!) and as I said before, he is clearly manipulating things to frame Wanda as the villain to get what he wants, too. So eff him. And thank the powers that be (and Darcy!! Omg Darcy) for getting us more info, there.

Also also, I LOVE Pietro, as he is and especially with the kids. Tommy imprinting on him, thus getting the speed powers! Perfect perfect perfect. And I love the interactions Pietro has with Wanda when it's just them. The line about him being called to Wanda - the implication that their bond is so strong it pulled him across realities just because she needed him. Wow. I can't wait to see how that leads into the rest of the multiverse connections and what that really means (I still think Agnes had something to do with it, but yeah).

As for our conflicted lovers, as much as the dishonesty and control issues between Vision and Wanda (all on Wanda's side) pain me, Vision investigating gives me life!! And the creepy vibe is perfect, Halloween-episode-wise. Great balance of that with the trick-or-treating fun, that hits two tropey notes very well.

Also, AGNES DRESSED AS A WITCH. She is 8,000% Agatha!!! And OBVIOUSLY manipulating things too - that she was right there, when Vision was trying to suss things out, the way she hollered "DEAD!!!" at him SO much, the posing of it looking like she was trying to escape.... yeah. She is definitely trying to get him to try and leave and break Wanda that way. But why?

I think the second conversation between Wanda and Pietro puts more weight on that, too, making it very clear that Wanda doesn't really know what's going on or why she has this control - she had no reason to lie to him, and her tone there was the same as when she was genuinely talking to Vision at the end of last episode, so I believe she is being honest here. Which, AGAIN, points to another witch manipulating things too - or at least having put her in this place for their own reasons. The commercial in this episode points in that direction as well - so far, the commercials have been about her regrets, right? So she regrets something about magic - perhaps tapping into magic to ease her grief? Or having connected with someone else who put her here, and has taken that memory from her, now?

As for the last parts of the episode, I did not think I was gonna ever have to live through the pain of watching Vision die again but BOY WAS I SURE WRONG!!! I knew that the barrier scene was coming, from the promos, but daaaaaaaaamn. Thank goodness for Billy's powers manifesting!! And how beautifully done was that, too. I've really enjoyed seeing the progress of getting the kids to where/who they are as we know them from the comics (also their costumes!! Everyone's costumes. Omggggggggg).

And finally, the scene of everything changing as she moved the hex barrier to save him - I love the choices they made. Hayward's circus, indeed.

(My prayers and healing vibes with all of the Maximoff-Vision family for next week, and with Darcy as well. And with Jimmy and Monica, to get to her contact asap!!)

(Also Monica Rambeau is too good for this world, oh my heart.)

#meta #fangirling #wandavision spoilers #wandavision #inspiration #wanda maximoff #vision #the vision #scarlet vision #pietro maximoff #spoilers #episode review

17 notes · View notes

keyofjetwolf · 4 years ago

Text

Hi would you like some rage about She-Ra season 5?

If the answer is no, please don’t click below. For real. Really for real. I’m not looking to piss in anyone’s Cheerios. I think if you were satisfied (or better!) with the show, that’s fantastic and I envy you. As I have always said, love what you love. My opinion is mine and means precisely nothing beyond that. If you think you may be even a little bummed reading about how someone didn’t like it, skip this post and go on with your day, I promise you’re not missing anything worthwhile.

IN A SIMILAR VEIN: If -- before, during, or after reading -- you feel inclined to argue with me, I am begging you to please not. I cannot begin to tell you how much I don’t want to be argued with on this right now. I’m still extremely disappointed and cranky, and I’m not much in the mood to have a measured, reasoned debate about my feelings. Much as my opinion has no bearing on you, your opinion has no bearing on me, and as I’m giving you the option to opt out, I’d appreciate the same courtesy. If you want to write your own post on your own blog, go nuts! Just please leave me out of it. I PREFER TO BE CRANKY AT TELEVISION SHOWS THAN PEOPLE.

The rest of you, come on down. I don’t promise coherency, but I DO promise a lot of stuff said in all-caps!

---

Hello! Thank you for joining me! We watched the remaining few episodes of She-Ra last night! I hated them! Yaaay!

What did I hate? OH HO HO MANY THINGS FRIENDS MANY THINGS. It’s not just stuff from the final couple of episodes either, I want to clarify. It’s the entire final season, settling on last few episodes like the freshly fallen snow on your front lawn that some frat boys decide to pee their names into. By the time we’d gotten to these last episodes, there was really nothing left for me but confirmation of all the shit I’d come to hate. SO THANKS I GUESS FOR PROVING ME RIGHT

Which isn’t to say there was nothing to enjoy in the final episodes! There was!

5. She-Ra’s Triceps. GET BUFF GIRL. I LOVE how Adora and She-Ra look similar, but very much not identical. Adora’s no slouch when it comes to physical stuff, but they go the extra mile to show us how She-Ra is that much more. HOW RARELY DO YOU GET TO SEE A WOMAN WITH MUSCLES. I’ve been nothing but impressed by the ways the show drew the line between Adora and She-Ra, and however I felt about its handling of other elements, it didn’t let me down here.

4. Sometimes A Family Is A Twink, A Lizard, And Their Imp Baby. I don’t have further commentary on this, and I need none.

3. Welcome Home, Daddy. THIS WAS SO SPECTACULAR. Glimmer had, I would argue, the most realized arc in the story. It was so gratifying to see this as a culmination, not just of her own struggle with her magical power and ability to harness it, but her willingness to do what needs doing, however personally difficult. That was a stumbling point Angelica could never overcome, continually trying to micromanage and protect Glimmer rather than trusting her and recognizing her for the asset she was. Also though, more succinctly: YESSSS BITCH

2. A Shanty! THIS WHOLE SCENE WAS PERFECT NO NOTES. Just the right blend of silly and sincere, a genuine delight as even brainwashed Mermista had had enough of Sea Hawk’s shit, AND so much more clever than it seemed at first glance. THIS IS THE ONLY VALID HETEROSEXUAL RELATIONSHIP IN SHE-RA I AM NOT TAKING QUESTIONS AT THIS TIME

1. Shadow Weaver. SHADOW FUCKING WEAVER. What a complicated, fascinating character, bar none the most interesting in the entire series. I do think they pulled their punch right at the very end with her, but I AM capable of remembering I’m watching a kid’s show, so I can only get so disappointed about it. Mostly, she remained a beautifully morally complex character, and she was one of my greatest personal delights from beginning to end*.

(*) Boy did this show have one single solution for mommy issues though.

THAT WAS ABOUT IT. So let’s get to why we’re all really here, and that is MY SCREAMING OH MY GOD WHERE DO I BEGIN

Nah, I know exactly where to begin.

GLIMMER AND BO JESUS MCTRISKET I AM GOING TO EXPLODE AND SHOWER THE UNIVERSE IN THE SHRAPNEL OF MY HATE

WHY IS THIS HAPPENING

WHERE DID IT COME FROM

HOW CAN I SHOVE IT BACK IN THE HATEFUL SPEWHOLE THAT SIRED THIS BULLSHIT

WHY WHY IS THIS HERE WHY IS THIS IN MY FACE WHERE MY EYES HAVE TO SEE IT FUCK ME SIDEWAYS THIS IS THE MOST UNNECESSARY SHOEHORNED IN HET ROMANCE FUCK A DOODLE NONSENSE I HAVE EVER HAD THE MISFORTUNE TO BEAR WITNESS WHAT IS IT DOING IN THIS OTHERWISE EXPONENTIALLY GAY CARTOON

WERE YOU PANDERING TO THE STRAIGHTS

WHY ARE YOU PANDERING TO THE STRAIGHTS I ASSURE YOU WE ARE COVERED BOTH HISTORICALLY AND FICTIONALLY

ALSO NEED I REMIND YOU THAT YOU HAVE ALREADY ACHIEVED HETEROSEXUAL PERFECTION

NO MERMISTA NO WE ARE NOT ALL JUST LIKE OKAY WITH THIS

Oh my FUCKSTICKS, I could’ve rolled with so much more that angers/disappoints me about She-Ra’s ending if every single thing I feared about this hadn’t proved true.

AND. IT. WAS. SO. UNNECESSARY.

What exactly did pairing off Glimmer and Bo do for the story? For their characters? THIS IS THE PART THAT’S STABBING ME IN THE DELICATE WEBBING OF MY TOES. Because -- COME WITH ME A MOMENT SWEET ANGELS -- because I was under the impression that, oohhhh, I dunno, FRIENDSHIP WAS A HUGE FUCKING IMPORTANT PART OF THIS PASTEL HELLSCAPE

Is it, She-Ra? IS IT REALLY???? When not one but BOTH of your childhood friendship pairings end in romance? When you close out your five seasons with romantic relationships so painfully and specifically sown across the character landscape like an overzealous gardener turned loose on the world?

You know what you have at the end? DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID

THIS ISN’T A BEST FRIENDS SQUAD IT’S A DOUBLE DATE THAT NEVER MERCIFULLY ENDS

And again I ask, Why?? What was it about Glimmer and Bo’s relationship that needed them to become romantic? What was LACKING that this was the solution?

THIS IS WHAT MAKES ME LOSE MY GODDAMN SHITTING MIND I AM SO FUCKING DONE WITH THIS INSIPID MYOPIC TRASHBAG OF A CONCEPT

I believed She-Ra’s entire premise about friendship, I believed it wholeheartedly, and I’m so PISSED that at the close of day, narratively, it swept it all the bin. AND YES, YES IT DID, otherwise, WHY IS IT THERE. It serves no story-based need, it serves no character-based need, it has no NEED at all. So is it meant to be a “reward” to Bo and Glimmer for winning the war, as if their lifelong friendship were not reward enough? Is it meant to show they’ve walked through the flames and emerged with stronger, deeper bonds, because of course a relationship can only go SO deep without fucking. There’s no avenue to Romantic Relationship that doesn’t simultaneously point to something lacking in Platonic Relationship, AND I AM FURY PERSONIFIED

I am so tired of this. I’m SO TIRED of this.

And it didn’t need to be there. They didn’t even TRY to give us a good reason. That may be the part that makes me the angriest. Of COURSE they hook up romantically, of COURSE their platonic love would grow into “more”.

Fuck YOU, She-Ra. I thought you were better than that. YOU WERE SO CLOSE TO BETTER THAN THAT

THEN THERE WAS CATRA

I get it, I guess. I mean, I think it’s shittily written, but I GUESS. Honestly, end of day, I just don’t care about Catra enough to really get too angry about it, particularly when as I’m so fucking incendiary over something much more important to me. But it’s also the show’s greatest creative failure, and even if I HADN’T gotten angrier at other choices, it would’ve still cut its own legs out from under it.

Catra’s “redemption” was weak and sad and did a disservice to her and everyone involved. She started self-centered and shitty, and she ended just as self-centered and shitty, only we’re fine with that now. She learned nothing and changed nothing, but also nobody ever demanded it of her, so I can only lay so much at the character’s feet. The problem is ultimately creative, where I think Noelle Stevenson got lost in her own love of the character, and somewhere along the way forgot that if you take them out that far, you have to be willing to walk them the long road back. Compare to poor Glimmer, for fuck’s sake, whose greatest sin was being desperate enough to be manipulated by the character whose entire fucking DEAL is being THE manipulator. How much shit did she get for that? How long was she punished? Meanwhile Catra becomes THE Big Bad for a while, nearly unravels all of reality in a fit of supreme lesbian angst and self-pity, directly leads to the death of the planet’s ruling monarch who also happens to be GLITTER’S MUM and DIRECT FRIEND TO THE SHOW’S HEROES, but that’s fine, you did one sorta good thing one time and even though it was also wrapped in a thick film of self-pity and a final fuck-you at Adora, all is forgiven!

Speaking of, Adora suffers just as much from stunted growth. From the beginning, her thing was control, unable to free herself from the responsibility of everything and everyone. What did we have at the end? Adora as the only one who could save everything and everyone. Yeah, they kept asking what it was SHE wanted, BUT THEN SHE NEVER ACTUALLY GOT TO CHOOSE. NOT activating the failsafe wasn’t an option for her, and while she wound up not having to die to do it, even that wasn’t her choice in the end, it was Catra’s. (Don’t even get me started on her nth hour “You love me?” fuckery when it wasn’t once for one single second shown to be a question of such life-turning importance.)

All of which could be interesting! That Catra and Adora went through all this, came so far to wind up right where they started? AWESOME. LOVE IT. FUND IT. But really all that happens is nobody minds now that Catra’s a self-involved little shit and tee-hee another Best Friends Squad Mission being bullrushed by Adora within five minutes of ending the last one isn’t that funny?

I can’t even dig much enjoyment out of Adora and Catra as a trope subversion (if one of them was a male, their romantic involvement wouldn’t have even been a QUESTION), because the show lost its fucking mind with romantically pairing everybody off in the final five minutes. WHICH BRINGS ME RIGHT BACK TO MY PREVIOUS SCREAMING SO I’LL STOP THERE.

There was other stuff, of course. I think it was a TERRIBLE decision to spend the last season with the focus split between the two groups of rebels, and writing half the cast into brainwashing. I think the Nettossa and Spinnerella stuff was wasted and lacked any punch at all because the show for some reason or another couldn’t be bothered to let us spend any time with them to care. The waste of Scorpia and Mermista especially (to people named Jet Wolf who are me) was fucking CRIMINAL. Speaking of Scorpia, wouldn’t her showdown with Bo have been so much more poignant if they’d had really any kind of interaction before that moment to build from? (Sure, it’s Scorpia, so if you’re going to sell the lack of context with anyone it’s her, BUT ALSO.) Hey, remember Huntara? No? NEITHER DID THE SHOW.

All my details aside though, MY MANY MANY MANY DETAILS, what kills/rages me most about She-Ra was how so much potential from the first four seasons was just flushed away. Whether it was the creative team shooting itself in the foot or corporate pressure and rushing from Netflix, I don’t know. I don’t CARE. This is the show I was given, so this is the show I have, and that kind of fall after that kind of potential doesn’t just irritate me, it makes me SAD. I wouldn’t be this disappointed if I didn’t think it could have been -- WAS -- so much more.

Time will tell if I can separate out the final season from how much I loved those that came before it. I like to hope so, because I did love it intensely and loved whenever I got the chance to really dig in and talk about it.

WHATEVER ELSE I SUPPOSE I WILL ALWAYS HAVE THIS

Again please remember that I am not at present looking to argue or debate my feelings and opinions. I get to just be angry and disappointed, as a treat!

#jet wolf watches she ra #a novel by jet wolf #ANYWAY THAT'S ENOUGH ENERGY SPENT ON THIS CHILD'S CARTOON FOR ONE 24 HOUR PERIOD

39 notes · View notes

callmemythicalminx · 5 years ago

Text

The Last Of Us 2: We Need To Talk About It

*Spoilers ~ ye have been warned!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’ve held this off for as long as I could, but I’ve given up resisting- we need to talk about The Last of Us 2. It’s an incredible masterpiece, there’s no doubt about it. The graphics are beautiful and incredibly realistic, and the gameplay has made bounding leaps in progress since the first game, offering a more exciting and intense experience for the player. The actors have of course done incredible jobs and the sound design is amazing. Altogether, a pretty amazing game… Except for one thing- the story.

The first game was widely loved for many reasons, but most prominently, and I’m sure many will agree with me on this, the story and the characters are what made it stand out and still hold up to this day. Joel and Ellie are amazing characters, incredibly complicated and realistic. The former was a man we as players grew to love, after seeing the horrible pain he had to go through and the hardships he faced. We saw him do unspeakable things, hurting and killing many, all in the name of survival. But still, we cared for him, because we saw him grow to love too, risking all to keep his new daughter safe. Ellie was a young kid, forced to grow up too soon in a world that didn’t really care about her. Faced with the fact that she was the possible saviour of humanity, she had the weight of a brighter future on her shoulders. In each other, these two characters found someone to care about again. Joel saw the daughter he lost and couldn’t protect. Ellie saw a father who wouldn’t leave and would help keep her safe.

After seeing the bittersweet ending of the first game, we waited for 7 long years to see Ellie and Joel return to our screens once more. Trailers promised new adventures with the pair, as well as the much-anticipated impact of Joel’s actions after taking Ellie from the Fireflies and stopping the creation of a possible cure. Even when leaks about the story were released, the majority of fans held strong to the belief that Naughty Dog would lead us well and would give us a great sequel to finish off an incredible generation of progress, leading us into a new age of video game storytelling.

Oh, how wrong we were…

Make no mistake here- I know Joel isn’t a hero. What he did at the end of the first game was incredibly selfish. I’ve always seen him as an anti-hero because of his sometimes cruel and violent actions and that can’t be forgotten. Undeniably though, he is still such a beloved character, who we can’t help but connect too because he’s human and vastly complicated. He was also living in a world where people are doing much worse things to survive. Darker, more evil actions that weren’t close to anything Joel ever did. Can he really be blamed for some of his actions, when seeing what other surivors had done? When I first played The Last of Us, I couldn’t help but sympathise with him, especially as I saw him slowly become more caring again after meeting Ellie. He’s incredibly interesting too in terms of characterisation because he’s neither good nor evil- he’s just human, trying to survive in a nightmare world.

Obviously, playing as Joel made a world of difference as to how we perceived him and whether or not he was a hero or villain. If we’d been playing as a completely different character, perhaps a Firefly, we would have most definitely seen him in a different light. This is where Abby comes in. I’ll give Naughty Dog credit here, it is a really interesting concept to introduce a playable character who’s seen the other side of our famous duo’s actions. It’s a great way to make us think even more about the consequences and the effect we have on our environment. As the daughter of the lead surgeon meant to operate on Ellie, Abby has seen the negative effects of Joel’s actions first hand. This opens up a widely explorable concept for the player to experience, offering a new complicated character who has seen her own pain and hardships just like Joel and Ellie did. She’s sure to be liked… Right?

Unfortunately, no.

In the span of two weeks, Abby has become one of the most hated gaming characters of all time. The reason why- bad storytelling.

I understand what the game was trying to do, I really do. I see what the story was trying to tell and portray, but the writing and pacing ruined this before the game had barely even started. I know I can speak for most when I say that I was expecting Joel to die, either it be naturally or inflicted by someone (or something) else. Naughty Dog know how to tug players’ heartstrings, as we saw at the start of the first game when Sarah was killed. It was bound to happen, though I didn’t really want it to. Joel deserves a worthy death, one befitting of his character which would complete his arc and bring a conclusion to his story. What we got instead was single-handedly one of the worst character deaths ever presented in a video game.

Joel dies at the hands of Abby, less than 2 hours into the game after we’ve seen him for only 10 minutes or so. He and his brother Tommy willingly walk into a very suspicious situation, in the most stupidly uncharacteristic way, revealing their names and where they’re from. They say this to a group of 10-20 strangers, in a building where they can easily be ambushed and restrained. Abby is at the helm of this group, driven to Jackson for one thing- the need to avenge her father who Joel killed. After hearing who they are, the group is obviously more alert and ready to strike. Joel then says, and I quote ‘Y’all act like you’ve heard of us or something’… Bear in mind here, that our Joel from the first game knew he was a wanted man and that he couldn’t trust anyone. Hell, he didn’t even trust Ellie for a good while before he started to care for her. But here he willingly gives his name and acts shocked when it’s recognised? This is not the Joel we know, who’s incredibly smart and can see a trap a mile off.

In one of the most sickening occurrences I’ve ever seen in a video game, Abby then shoots Joel in the knee with a goddamn shotgun. Tommy, of course, jumps into action to help his brother but is quickly restrained and knocked out. While listening to Joel’s horrific groans of pain as he lays wounded on the floor, Abby then has the audacity to ask him to ‘Guess’ who she is? Other than the fact that this is incredibly cringy, there’s no way in hell Joel would have the faintest clue who she is. He doesn’t run a family check on everyone he kills, does he? She could be the daughter of a random soldier he killed or some other nobody.

Ever a badass till the end, still having no clue who she is, Joel tells Abby to get on with whatever she has planned. She gets someone to tourniquet his leg while she collects her weapon to end his life- a golf club of all things. After calling him a ‘stupid old man’, something that both upset and pissed me off too much, Abby then begins to start beating Joel to death. You play as Ellie now, as she tries to find him. She enters this group’s hideout to see her father hunched on the ground, curling in on himself, spasming because of numerous brutal hits he’s received to his head. His face is bloody and bruised, his eyes barely open as a pool of blood spreads around him. We feel the horrendous pain Ellie does as she’s quickly restrained and forced to watch Joel meet his death. She begs, rambling for him to get up and leave, but there’s nothing she can do. Ellie’s horrified cries are ignored as she begs for mercy and with a sickening crunch, Joel receives one final brutal blow to the head.

And he’s gone. Like that.

If this was written true to the character we know and love, Joel would have never entered that building and given his name that easily. Neither would’ve Tommy. These are two seasoned veterans of a zombie outbreak, who have seen the horrid measures people will go to when provoked or desperate. Is the game really trying to tell me that they’d trust a bunch of suspicious-looking kids, walking willingly into a crowded area with no weapons, standing apart instead of together? Joel didn’t trust anyone in the first game, why would this change?

Regardless of the fact that he’s in Jackson now, which is ‘friendly to travellers’, and that he’s grown ‘softer’, he’s still not gonna be trustworthy of strangers. By and by, Joel is still a wanted man and he knows this, he took away the world’s chance at a cure for Pete’s sake. Secondly, this is plain and simple a terrible death for Joel. Not because of how he died (because this is a zombie apocalypse, after all, it’s going to be brutal even if it’s awful to see) but the fact that this happens the way it did and the placement of it. There’s no closure to his character arc or to the rift between himself and Ellie that’s, at this moment, unknown to the reader. He didn’t die saving Ellie, which as cliche as it sounds, would have juxtaposed beautifully with Sarah’s death at the start of the first game. Imagine how satisfying it would have been to see that Joel would be willing to die for Ellie after he’s been focused only on surviving and himself. Imagine if he’d died in Ellie’s arms just like Sarah did in his…

The timing is also really bad considering we’ve barely seen any of him in the two hours we’ve played. When we see Joel die, it doesn’t feel as impactful as it could’ve been. We haven’t seen any new or old encounters with him and Ellie, except for the small seconds at the start as he retells the end of the first game. We haven’t had a chance to fully reconnect with him. His odd actions further distance us away from him because he’s not acting like he usually would. Therefore we’re left with a horrifying death that feels hollow, strange and disconected.

Abby does not help make this scene any better, which is a shame, because I think if different choices were made to push this death further in the game, we could have had a chance to care for her or at the very least begin to like her. Instead, we have no clue as to who she is or what her motivations are before this. All we know is she’s looking for someone. To then see this new character kill someone so beloved, in the most brutal way… Players are gonna hate her immediately! I hated her immediately! And like I said, her dialogue in this scene is atrociously bad, especially when she insults Joel. That really felt like you were adding salt to the wound there Naughty Dog.

Imagine if you will, what a better death or a change in chronological order of Joel’s death could have done to help the story. If we’d got to know Abby more, playing as her for longer than two hours, she might not have been as hated. The player could have begun to like her and sympathise with her, slowly realising who she is and at the same time, seeing the damage Joel has caused in his selfish decisions. She could have still killed Joel, but towards the end of the game, so that the player would have felt more conflicted about her doing it after seeing her past, seeing the pain that she went through. The game could have reminded us that Joel is still an anti-hero. Imagine that? If the game had made us admit to ourselves that, though it’s painful to watch, his death might have just needed to happen to make up for the loss of everyone he killed? It could still have fit the environment they’re in too, with a brutal and harsh death that could’ve come out of nowhere, but still felt justified in the story. Tess in the first game had a brilliant death, befitting of her badass character, yet still shocking and realistic to the world she lived in. Instead of becoming a zombie, she instead let herself be shot after bravely standing outnumbered against the enemy while Joel and Ellie escaped. It was a great death and Joel had every right to one of his own.

Maybe he didn’t even need to die for his actions at all though? Let’s not forget that he’s not the only one who has done bad and unspeakable things in this broken world the characters live in. He’s not irredemable, he’s a complicated human being who has had to adapt to the world around him. Think about some of the groups we came across in the first game- is Joel really worse than them? Yes, he took away the world’s chance at a new begining, but did it even deserve to start again after seeing how horrid people had become? Imagine if your loved one was sacrificing themself for a world that didn’t deserve it? Imagine if the cure might not even work or be possible to create, would you really just let them die? Joel’s only human, he acted with his heart instead of his mind. I have no doubt that Abby would probably do the same, or Ellie, or any other character who had those same choices ahead of them. Joel’s actions were selfish, yes, but he shouldn’t have to die for it. I wouldn’t want to lose someone I cared deeply about, just for a possible cure that would save an unworthy world.This is why we aren’t finding fault with the fact that Joel died, it’s HOW and WHY it happened that’s got us so pissed off.

What makes his death and the story even worse is the ending of the game. All the pain and trauma Ellie goes through killing all of Abby’s friends to find her becomes worthless. Why- she lets her go free. After fighting her twice and losing her fingers during one of those fights, Ellie suddenly has an epiphany and realises that revenge isn’t the answer. She lets Abby go. Once again, I understand what Naughty Dog were trying to do here and once again it could have worked.

‘Revenge is bad’. It’s been in many games and this message has worked beautifully in most too, like in Red Dead Redemption 2 for example. It worked beautifully in the game because it’s something that Arthur makes reference to a lot, reiterating the fact that ‘revenge is a fool’s game’. We see that pan out when John gets revenge at the end of the game and pays the price for it. The reason it fails in The Last of Us 2 is that this message comes from nowhere. Ellie has killed hundreds of people leading up to her final fight with Abby and she’s lost even more in the process too, including friends, her family and now her ability to play the guitar which was the final big thing linking her back to Joel. She’s brutally murdered many, torturing others so badly that she turned into a shell of herself afterwards. She suffers from PTSD because of Abby’s actions, seeing the death of Joel repeatedly, leaving her physically and emotionally weak. It doesn’t make any sense that after all this traumatising violence and pain, she suddenly gives up on the notion of revenge when she’s just about to kill the murderer of her father. The most disappointing thing is this message could have still worked if done correctly. If she could have realised revenge is pointless sooner, this wouldn’t feel as out of place as it does. Why does this one person, the murderer out of all people, change Ellie’s mind, after killing so many? Sure, you could say she has a family now and she was reminded of them, but then why would they have such an impact at the point of Abby’s near death, when Dina begging Ellie to stay didn’t work in the first place? It’s. Bad. Writing.

Abby and Ellie have both hurt each other equally, killing family, close friends and their fathers. Instead of killing each other, the story could have led them to realise together that Ellie is still the key to saving humanity, and with Abby’s link to the fireflies, they could somehow still create a cure.

Imagine. That. How fulfilling that would have been? Instead of the horrid, pointless ending we got instead.

Joel’s death could have brought the two together, connecting the Fireflies once again with the cure to right the wrongs he did. He could have realised that Abby was looking for him and willingly sacrifice himself to make up for what he did, completing his arc like I mentioned while also dying a fitting, badass death. He could have left a note for Ellie to read, explaining his actions, to say sorry and to show that he knows this is the only way to fix what he did. At the end of the game, Ellie could have looked out on a recovering world, singing her own rendition of Joel’s song, this time full of new beginnings in the face of great sacrifice.

That’s how you finish a story and a character’s arc. I’m no world-class writer, but I could imagine many different ways this same story and message could have panned out but with better writing, pacing and time, telling a tale of angst and sadness, while opening up a new chapter of hope and healing. The real end of the game leaves you feeling hollow and depressed, unfulfilled in the journey you’ve just experienced. Games are at their basic principle means of enjoyment, we play them to escape our lives and to have fun. They can be dark, harrowing and painful but still an absolute pleasure to play. What doesn’t help in defence of the game’s story is that the game director Neil Druckman said himself ‘For us, with The Last of Us specifically (Uncharted is a little different in our creative approaches), we don’t use the word ‘fun’. That feels… wrong to hear. If video games are not enjoyable, then what is the point in playing them?

I think it really says something in particular when the most enjoyable part of the game is a flashback between Joel and Ellie where there’s no real action. It’s just them, exploring a museum for her birthday, talking and joking and it’s the best part of the game hands down. It doesn’t include any of the new brilliant gameplay and while stunning, doesn’t really have much visual impact either. What makes it so special is just seeing the characters we love interact and have fun like it’s a scene cut straight from the first game. After 7 years, us fans were yearning to see more of Joel and Ellie’s cute relationship, so to only have that and a few other small scenes is so… unsatisfying. If we had more of their adventures before Joel’s death, I know that many people would have been much more accepting of it. It would have definitely been more impactful, having given us the chance to reconnect with them both again. Going back to Ellie on her revenge path after that museum scene was so depressing. It’s such a shame that further interaction between them was just forgotten about and thrown aside. They were such a big factor in the first game’s success, so to see them barely together felt too strange. Though we play as Ellie for the most part, it began to feel less and less like Last of Us and more like some new zombie game. Playing as Abby so suddenly too and for so long just further implemented that weird feeling. It’s a real shame because I really can’t stand her at all now. But she could have been a great character if the story was much different.

I can’t help but feel that the story feels patronising and degrading to its audience in some ways. Some of the choices and plot lines feel very disrespectful to the characters and fans, simply because of what it expects of you after forcing you through unwanted pain and misery. Let’s not forget also that we were lied to in the trailers. Showing numerous clips of Joel as his oldest self to reel us in, then change them to be flashbacks? Flashbacks which happen to be the only good pieces of storytelling in the whole game. It’s just wrong. And quite frankly it’s disgusting. Video games are expensive nowadays. We already knew many fans were gonna buy it anyway because we’re loyal to what we love. But to intentionally make that push, using lies, to secure sales for an expensive game from a huge fan base… it’s disrespectful.

As a whole, I can see what Naughty Dog were trying to do. They were trying to create something different, do what they wanted instead of what the fans wanted. That’s not a bad thing at all, it’s ballsy and creative to do something like that with a well-loved franchise. Rockstar took that same leap when they created Red Dead Redemption 2, forcing you to play as Arthur instead of the beloved John. It worked for them because they wrote the story well enough so that you’d have time to explore this new character and grow to love him, especially when faced with his actions and his mortality. Arthur dies brutality but fans still love the game because it was a fitting and wonderful way to finish his character arc.

This idea fails with The Last of Us 2 because the player isn’t properly engaged with the story before shit hits the fan and their favourite character is dead. I have no doubt that if it was written differently, if we’d been able to see more of Joel before his death and had more than two hours played with Abby that this story could have actually worked. The message that ‘revenge is bad’ could have worked. Ellie and Abby both have the same arc, experiencing something traumatic, being consumed by revenge, then ultimately realising it’s worthless to kill. We could have followed the same arc with a much better version of the story we actually got.

Instead, it feels like the game is intentionally pissing us off, continuously ruining that idea, first by making us watch as Joel is brutally and stupidly killed so soon, then secondly, by then forcing us to play and connect with Abby for 50% of the game when that seed of hate for her has already been planted. This is another one of the moments in the game where I feel like we’re being patronised. Is it really fair to paint us in such a bad light for not wanting to play and grow to like Abby, when we saw her as a stranger brutally kill our favourite character? Is it really that bad for us to hate her after she has caused so much pain when we’ve only known her for two hours? It’s such a shame because she could have actually become a new well-loved character.

I’d just like to say that while I think the story is bad, no one who was involved in the making of this game should be attacked for it. Video games, especially in this age, are such hard things to make because so much goes into them and I don’t want to discredit anyone’s work. Regardless of my or anyone else’s opinions on the game or its story, the team at Naughty Dog have still poured hours of time and effort into making it. They shouldn’t be receiving attacks or hate, we can still discuss the game and our opinions while being respectful. The actors shouldn’t be receiving hate either, they acted brilliantly with what they were given. Ashley Johnson and Laura Bailey especially should be credited for their work. And Troy Baker, though he was only in it for a short while, deserves an award just for that final ending scene between Ellie and Joel- it made me cry buckets. He made this character come alive beautifully and he deserves all the praise for it. And so do the rest of the cast, who did exceptionally good jobs.

In my eyes (though it sounds bad) The Last of Us 2 doesn’t exist as a game. In my own perfect world, it’s actually just badly written fanfiction posted to Tumblr or Wattpad. As goes in my made up ending, Joel and Ellie move to Jackson and restart their lives after the end of the first game. Eventually, he tells her about what happened and there’s a rift between them for some time, which is, of course, to be expected- it was a momentously selfish thing for him to do. Over time though, Ellie learns to forgive him and the rest is history. Because there’s no real canon ending, anything can happen. So… Did they eventually create a cure? Who knows. Did they stay in Jackson, happily living out their lives? Maybe. Did Joel die a badass and sacrificial death protecting Ellie? Possibly. Or did Joel die eventually in old age, surrounded by his family, holding his daughter’s hand as he passed away?

I hope so…

He may have been a complicated anti-hero. He may have even been a villain. Regardless, he still deserved a respectful death and in my perfect makebelieve ending…

He got it.

🌟🌟/5

Photo Credit ~ some from @ inora_miller on Instagram

77 notes · View notes

t-lostinworlds · 5 years ago

Text

Lost You (Shawn Mendes) [2]

Feat. Tom Holland

A/N: This took way too long and I am really sorry for the wait. Also, this got a bit long too aha. The song btw is Unloving You by Alex Aiono check him out you guys he’s really talented, so yeah give that a listen because the performance is kindaa based on the song. Anyhow, I hope you guys still like this one!

Summary: After seeing your performance on a song you wrote about him, Shawn went out to get some air, but his peace was quickly interrupted when Tom decided to follow and confront him

Warnings: a sprinkle of Angst and typos

Word Count: 6.4k+

Masterlist in Bio

-:-:-:-:-

You are very grateful that your dressing room has a bathroom in it, that was the purpose as to why you got out of your seat in the first place.

Your stylist was kind enough to help you out of your dress quickly and into your performance dress, a more comfortable and movable one before you got into the bathroom to empty your bladder.

Tom was being all blushy and cute while you got changed, covering his eyes with both hands and never peeking as promised, making you giggle in midst of your current mix of emotions after what happened with... Shawn.

The dress you wore was pale pink with a long, A-line bottom and a v-neckline to match a low back. The whole dress was covered in lace that extends into cap sleeves with petal appliqués littered all across, giving you an almost, fairy-like type of feel.

You wore close to no make-up now, hair down to frame your face, with your feet all bare, the rawness of your features critical for the song you were going to sing.

You wanted it to be intimate, real and emotional. Not much big production, just pure and simple you on stage, nothing but the beautiful sound of the piano and a few ballet dancers to tell a story.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Tom asked again the moment you reached the couch. Plopping yourself beside him, you nodded with a sigh. "Yeah just, seeing him brought back memories."

Tom frowned at your words, arm extending as he draped it over your shoulder, hand rubbing your arm in comfort. "What'd he say to you?"

You shrugged at his question, fingers picking at your dress as you softly mumbled. "That he still loves me and that he wants to get back together."

"And?"

"No, gosh no. I can't go back to what it once was. I couldn't even if I tried. And I really don't want to because every time I look at him I just see... pain." You shook your head with a frown of your own, hurt spreading inside you as the tainted memories replayed itself inside your head.

"Do you still love him?"

You took a sharp, deep breath at the question, two sides of yourself going against each other as to what you feel about that certain boy. "I don't know." You admitted with a defeated sigh, your mind a mess a long with your heart that you couldn't exactly give Tom a straight answer.

Maybe there's still a part of you that loves him, the Shawn you once knew at least, but that always seems to get clouded by the Shawn you saw just minutes ago. The familiarity in the way he looks at you, the glint in his eyes, it was still there, but barely. You saw a very different person from the boy who you fell in love with, because all you saw was the person who broke your heart into pieces.

"Okay, let's change the subject because the crinkle on your forehead is back, you need to clear your mind and relax. You're performing in a few darling." Tom pressed his pointer finger on the space between your brows, smoothing out the wrinkle with a reassuring smile that you couldn't help but feel all warm.

You looked up at him with a small, genuine but guilty smile. "Thank you and I'm sorr—"

"No need for that love. I've promised you that I'll always be here whenever you need me, and I tend to keep my promises. And before you start, no, you're not being a burden nor are you leading me on. I'm a grown man; I make my own choices, and am aware of the consequences. And as I've said plenty of times before, I am willing to wait for you whenever you are ready." Tom gave your arm a gentle squeeze, eyes boring into yours as it showed nothing but pure genuineness.

You felt your heart melt at the seams at his words, so grateful to have someone be at your side in time of need and one who actually cares about you wholeheartedly.

You are aware of a certain feeling that courses through you whenever you're with Tom. As to what it is? You haven't figured it out completely yet. This just makes things now more complicated than you thought it would be, adding the whole Shawn thing.

Tom and you have talked about what he felt for you, and you've also told him that he's free to find another as you are not sure as to when your heart gets fully healed. You don't want to use him as rebound at all, nor do you want to hold him down, that's why you've never told him anything that'd give him too much hope or anything, feelings wise, that you weren't sure yourself. You've been blunt and honest with him from the start, completely transparent without any sugar coating, but still, he understands and is still willing to wait.

With a simple explanation that you're not exactly ready yet, that you need to focus on yourself and be the person who you're meant to be, Tom understood. He always did, he's just incredible like that.

Pushing yourself up slowly, you placed a soft and sweet kiss on Tom's cheek, the simple action catching him off-guard as you felt his breath slightly hitch. You pulled away to look at him fully, face only an inch apart that you could make out the swirls of his beautiful brown eyes, the tips of your noses almost touching and you couldn't miss the way you felt your heart skipped a beat.

"You are such an amazing person, have I told that?" You whispered softly, Tom's eyes glancing down for a second to catch a glimpse of your lips before they were quick to be back on yours. It was a fast peek, but you caught it nonetheless.

He didn't take it further though, knowing that he can't do that to you right now, especially with what's going on inside your head. You saw it in his eyes, he knew it just wasn't the right time, and you were thankful.

Tom only chuckled with a nod, a soft blush coating his cheeks as he shot you a sweet but playful grin. "Yes, you have told me that, countless times, but I don't get tired of hearing it though."

You rolled your eyes with a laugh, swatting his chest playfully to which he purposely yelped a little too loudly. All overdramatic and everything. "That wasn't even that hard!" You exclaimed with giggles of your own.

"It still hurts love." He pouted at you, rubbing his chest exaggeratedly just for the purpose to sell his act. "I thought you had super strength Spider-Man? Unless you're a fraud." You accused as you narrowed your eyes at him, Tom gasping in feign offense.

"Hey!"

Both of you continued to banter back and forth, giggles and laughs echoing around the space until it was cut off when you were finally called to stage.

***

"Please help me welcome to the stage, your best new artist, Y/N L/N!"

Shawn's head snapped back at the stage once he heard your name. He'd been seating all angsty the moment he got back from meeting you in the hallway. He has been silent the rest of the night unless someone acknowledged him, but otherwise, he kept still and quiet, just waiting for you to appear on stage.

He was a complete and utter mess, but nothing a few fake smiles can't hide. Having done this before, all the eyes and the cameras lurking about, he was getting good at masking his feelings.

The lights started to dim as the applause faded out, the whole arena eerily quiet until a single spotlight shown right at the very back of the stage. And there you were, standing in all your raw and breathtaking beauty that Shawn has ever seen you in.

"I wish I could unsay the words I said..." Your voice echoed throughout the whole place, the sound sending shivers down Shawn's spine as it's been so long since the last time he heard you sing in person.

Then the melody of the piano came rolling in, the music just as beautiful to match your voice.

I wish I could unsee the videos in my head And if I could untie the knot and unhear the promises that you forgot Would I do that? Would I?

Shawn's heart ached at that. He knew what this song was about, from the very first moment you released it, he knew it was about him. The pain, the hurt and regret in your voice was clear as day and it took a big swing at his heart.

Movement on the stage snapped him back to reality as you walked forward ever so slowly. You looked like an angel to him, glowing right in the middle of the stage, your dress flowing with every step giving the illusion of you floating in mid-air.

The moment you reached a space another spotlight lit up, illuminating a few dancers acting out as couples as they move beautifully in sync with the song, so much raw emotion in one stage.

Unloving you, is the hardest thing to do Wish I could find a way to be unlove with you Unloving you, you're all I wanna lose But every night I'm closer to the bitter truth I just can't unlove you Maybe I can't unlove you

Shawn understood the lyrics clear as day, he's heard this song more times than he should, but he tried his best to not hold out hope, because he knows you. He knows you can never release a very personal song unless... unless it doesn't hurt you that much anymore. And if you were able to sing this live, then that can only mean one thing.

Maybe you've written the song right after everything. Just pouring every pain and suffering he caused you into lyrics and melodies to help you heal, and maybe by writing this song, you have healed, and releasing it to the world just means it doesn't hurt to revisit it anymore. It means that you've probably moved on, and that only leaves Shawn even more broken that he already is.

I wish I could unfeel your skin I wish I could undrown these feelings and learn to swim Oh if I could unlock the gate and unlight the fire that you put in me Would I do that? Would I?

The couples were now surrounding you, all acting out mundane things like slow dancing, reading books, one even had a mixing bowl in hand as they laughed, but the one that stuck out the most to Shawn was the couple sitting right in the corner, on a picnic blanket, the guy who oddly looked like him, holding a guitar in his hands.

It was way too familiar that Shawn felt his heart sink.

The first time I told her I love her.

Tears started to prick at Shawn's eyes as realization hit him like a truck. What the couples on stage were doing, it was the things you two always did when you were still together. Every single one of it, from making a mess in the kitchen to you reading him stories in bed.

He felt his chest slowly tighten, his body all tense as his mind ran a hundred miles per minute, just thinking about all the beautiful memories that now were tainted, all the blissful things that once was and might never get to experience again. All because of what he did.

Shawn stared right at you as you finished off the last chorus, the lights that were casted upon the couples started dimming one by one, almost serving as a sign that those memories, they were flickering, disappearing into nothing.

Unloving you, is the hardest thing to do Wish I could find a way to be unlove with you

Then the whole stage just burst to life, all dancers now moving in complete sync as you poured your heart and soul into the last beat.

Unloving you, you're all I wanna lose But every night I'm closer to the bitter truth I just can't unlove you

"But someday I will unlove you..." Everything then turned dark, the only light was yours as you stood there, right in the middle of the stage with a proud yet relieved smile.

The whole arena erupted into applause but the only thing Shawn could hear was the sharp ringing in his ears.

That's was it.

That last lyric change was all it took for Shawn to get up his seat and rush out. It may have looked bad if someone caught him, but hell, it would've look even worse if the camera caught him close to tears and unable to breath.

He just needed some air.

***

Shawn didn't know exactly how but he managed to find an empty lot at the very back of the arena, no signs of life so far. Big trucks were parked all around, hiding him some more from any prying eyes that could be lurking by.

He shut his own eyes tight as he threw his head back, the breeze of fresh air cool against his face as he took in as much as he could to try and calm himself down. His mind was still so crowded, so many thoughts rushing in and out of his brain at high speed and he couldn't quite grasp what was real and what was not.

Shawn thought he was okay, that he was good after the break up. He admits, he made the choice, he wasn't fully heartbroken when he did what he did. But as time went by, it slowly started to creep on him, all the pain and sorrow, and when he saw you tonight? That's when everything finally hit, a tidal wave of regret, guilt and hurt, all in one big swoop.

Shawn shook his head as he opened his eyes, now staring straight up at the dark night sky. There was no sound aside from the muffled screaming from inside, the premise somewhat, peaceful in a sense. He took in the calmness of everything around him, and slowly Shawn felt his heart rate go down, breathing going steady as he tried his best to clear his head, just counting the stars that he could see through the blaring lights of the place.

It was going great so far, that until he heard the door he came out of open and then close.

Turning around, he was filled with confusion and pure surprise as the person in front of him was the last who Shawn expected to see. He didn't ever expect to see him at all in pure honesty. Out of the number of persons who could've seen him run out, out of all the people who could've followed him, it had to be Tom Holland himself, how funny.

"If you came here to gloat—"

"No, I came here to give you a word of advice." Tom stood there with his hands in his pockets, a solemn look on his face to which Shawn only responded with furrowed brows. "I don't need your advice." He grumbled.

"I think it's best if you stay away from her." Tom ignored Shawn's comment as he added, voice stern and laced with pure warning, making Shawn scoff as he crossed his arms over his puffed out chest, all tall and confident. The Canadian boy wasn't scared of the British lad that's for sure. "And you expect me to listen to you?"

Tom shook his head. "No, I don't, but for her sake? I know you will." When Shawn didn't say a word, Tom continued, taking one step forward towards him to try and get the point across. "You claim that you care about her right? Then if that really is true, you need to let her go and let her be happy. You owe that to her."

Shawn let's out a mocking laugh, gesturing towards all of Tom as he sneered. "What, with you?"

The lad shook his head with a disappointed chuckle, arms falling limp to his side as if he can't actually believe that this is the card Shawn decided to play. "You're not getting the point here mate."

"No! You're not getting the point. I still love her, and I'm not going to give up until I get her back. I will keep fighting for her no matter the cost." Shawn wasn't one to have temper, he tends to have good control over it in most days, but right now, he couldn't feel anything else aside from anger and utter annoyance.

Sure, Shawn doesn't know Tom fully well, but he already doesn't like him. Maybe it was his ego talking, or maybe it's because Tom was with you but in Shawn's mind? How dare this guy tell him what to do?

Tom's patience was also starting to waver, the thought of you hurting and broken because of what this bastard did and continues to do was enough for Tom to not like Shawn, and he was going to make sure he hears what he has to say. "Do you want to get back with her because you truly love her? Or is it because it hurts your ego to see her with someone else and you just can't have that?"

Shawn blinked as Tom's words echoed inside his mind. He grew speechless at that, eyes casted down to the ground as he looked away to avoid Tom's accusing gaze, and that in itself was already an answer.

"Exactly my point."

Shawn was slowly crumbling, the gears in his head turning as he started to grow confused as to what he truly feels. He does love you, no doubt about that, but is that the main reason why he wanted you back? Or is there an underlying reason, a certain feeling that Shawn just can't seem to admit?

The curly-headed boy wasn't given the time to clear his head though, because Tom didn't stop, he wasn't near done.

Maybe it was all because of the pent up frustration he had for Shawn after so long. Granted, Tom doesn't know much about the guy, but he's heard enough. Just the name of the man who broke the woman Tom cares so much about, he's been hearing it over and over for months on end, all the things he's done. And now, Tom just wanted to let all his frustrations out and give him a piece of his mind.

"I know you're hurting right now, I can see it, but I care about Y/N a lot, and after seeing what you did to her, plus the aftermath? I don't want to be an asshole but you deserve all of it, if not more." Tom crossed his arms over his chest, jaw clenching as his mind went back to all the times you spent hurt and crying in his arms. You were an amazing, kindhearted, and compassionate woman, and you didn't deserve even an ounce of what Shawn put you through.

"Shut the fuck up Tom. You have no right to tell me what I deserve, you're not even in the fucking picture because this is between me and Y/N. This is none of your business. I will choose what the fuck I want to do and who are you to stop me huh?" Shawn growled through gritted teeth, fists balled at his sides as he took a step towards Tom, but the lad didn't seem to be bothered, not when he could match Shawn's anger easily.

"You've already made your choice the moment you broke her heart mate. You chose to be with someone else. Fucking hell, you are with said someone else right now, and then all of the sudden you want her back? Because what? It bothers you to see her with someone? To see her with me?" Tom held his head high as he spat, nostrils flaring with a glare to match, not showing any signs of weakness as they grew even closer, heat radiating off of both guys and it was a matter of time before someone explodes.

Tom was in dangerous proximity if Shawn gets even angrier and decides to get physical, but he wasn't scared, not even a little bit. The guy was obviously taller, maybe bulkier sure, but Tom? Well, he's had training. He knows how to box.

The two were pushing each other to their limit, poking the bear until one finally cracks, neither one seeming to back down as anger, pride, and egos collide. Tom even more so as he kept going at Shawn, words not lessening any blow even in the slightest. Tom had to make sure it thoroughly gets to him, that's why he had to make it sting.

"You weren't there to see how broken she was, how broken you made her, I was. You didn't see how dark it got, how low she felt, but I did. The amount of times she cried because of you, the countless times she felt so insecure about every part of her being because of you, the number of times she beat herself up by saying she was never, and will never be enough all because of what you did, I was fucking there for all of it and it fucking hurts to see her like that." Tom's temper was slowly slipping from him, his heart pounding against his ears at the mere thought of you in pain. He just cares about you so much, and remembering what you went through, it was clouding his mind.

When he went out to follow Shawn, he was planning to just have a casual talk, maturely settle some matters, and maybe even extend some comfort but things escalated way too fast and got way too heated and here they were now, one upping each other on who could get even more angry.

"I'm not standing here out of spite and jealousy, I'm here to tell you that I'm not letting you break her apart again and then just leave for her to pick up the pieces after. I sure as hell won't let her go back to old ways, because she doesn't fucking deserve that Shawn. She deserves to be truly happy, to heal, and you're not the person for that, not anymore because you're the person who broke her." The accusation in Tom's voice was clear as day, and Shawn heard it all too loud, each word ringing in his ear.

Shawn was breathing heavily now, heart beating rapidly against his chest as it pounded hard that it might as well break his ribs, but the anger, once it starts to boil, then it gets even harder to control.

"You're words don't have weight on me. I don't know you, I don't care about you and you're not stopping me from getting her back." Shawn didn't even convince himself on what he said, because everything that Tom has been saying, it was getting to him, in the heart and mind. It was painful to hear it, but maybe that's because it was the truth.

"Can't you see what you're doing to her right now? You're making her relive the darkest times of her life. She's been so much better than before, she's worked so hard to be better, and then you just come prancing in expecting that if you say you still love her, that'll fix everything? Well guess what, It did the exact opposite." Tom wasn't sure what it was but he can't seem to hold his tongue anymore, he was fighting fire with fire, two minds too consumed with outrage that nobody was having any sort of grip on themselves, no sense of control and that only breathes nothing but disaster.

"Shut up." Shawn grumbled hastily, nails digging into his palms at how tight he was balling his fists. The ringing in his ears, it was getting louder and louder, and Tom's words were only making things worse.

"If you can't see how much you're hurting her by pushing your way back into her life then you don't care about her, you only care about yourself. You're just being selfish and it hurts your pride that for once, you're not getting your way with this."

And that's when all Shawn saw was red.

"Shut up!" Shawn screamed, Tom stumbling back once he felt a full on fist collide with his nose and before Tom could even do as much as regain himself, another one hit him square on the jaw.

"Tom!"

Shawn froze at the sound of your voice, shaking and blood-covered fist raised in the air as he watched you run towards them.

A cold chuckle left Tom's lips, wiping the warm blood running down his nose with the back of his hand as he looked at Shawn tauntingly. "You've got to hit harder than that mate."

Shawn glared at Tom, and he was really going to have another blow but you've already reached them before he could even flinch.

"No! You two! Stop!" You hissed.

Shawn's anger was quick to dissipate with just one look at you, quick to be replaced by pure guilt and regret. He was staring at you with a deep frown, and when your eyes met his, all he saw was a look of pure shock followed by disappointment. You shook your head at him, sighing as you turned to the other boy, eyes growing wide once you finally took in his state.

"Oh god, your nose is still bleeding, dammit!" You scrambled, both hands cupping Tom's face gently, turning it from side to side to check if there were any more injuries. The lad only chuckled softly, leaning into your touch like a puppy, hands holding onto your wrists as he gave it a reassuring squeeze. "I'm fine love."

"Well you don't look it!" You scolded, worry laced in your features because this idiot's nose has been broken one too many times, and you were scared that this might have done some permanent damage. And as if Tom read your mind, he spoke.

"It wasn't that hard of a punch, I'm going to be fine." He was clearly instigating Shawn, provoking him to do something again so that Tom could have his chance too, but the other guy only scoffed, crossing his arms to stop himself from doing anything, because if Shawn does, then Tom wins.

"Thomas." You glared at the boy in warning, still in the state of confusion and shock as to why the two of them are here and having a fist fight in the first place. "Okay, okay, I'll stop, sorry darling." Tom pouted at you, to which you could only roll your eyes.

Men and their egos.

Shawn on the other hand has finally had the time to clear his head. He wasn't going to deny the jealousy that was consuming him just watching you be so gently, caring and sweet with Tom, and he so badly just wanted to leave but he needs to talk to you. "Y/N—"

"Just wait Shawn. I'll talk to you in a second." You sighed, sparing him a quick glance over you shoulder to see him nod solemnly and wait, weight shifting from one foot to another, head down like a puppy being scolded.

You turned back to Tom with an equally long sigh. These two really decided to butt heads, at such a public event and place, you were just praying that there weren't any paps or anyone for that matter who caught what just happened. That'd be a party for the press for sure, you can already see the horrifying headlines.

"Go back inside please, Tricia is just by the door maybe she has a tissue in hand." Tom frowned at that, sparing Shawn a look before his worried eyes were back on you. "But—"

"I can handle myself Tom." You flashed him a reassuring smile, but that still didn't seem to put Tom at ease. "I know. It's him I don't trust."

"I can hear you." Shawn interrupted with straight-out snark.

"Good!" Tom responded rather too enthusiastically with mockery laced in his tone, and the two were quick to be back on glaring at each other, willing to have another go, especially Tom because a part of him was itching to land at least one painful punch.

You let out a loud groan of utter aggravation.

Kids. Literal kids and it was taking everything in your power not to grab them both by the ear and drag them inside or to pull all of your hair out and off your head, whichever comes first.

"Tom, please? I'll meet you inside in a bit." You pleaded, and Tom could see that you were starting to get even more exasperated with the two of them bickering. So, he flashed you a sweet smile, giving your arm a comforting rub and then turning on his heel to walk back inside, but not before calling out to Shawn one last time.

"Remember everything that I said Shawn."

With that, Tom was out of sight, you turning around to meet Shawn who was already looking at you with so many emotions, a few of which were sorrow, guilt and regret.

"Y/N, I—" Shawn stopped himself, his mind still a jumbled mess that he can't think of what to say to you. You waited for him to continue, sporting a frown of your own as you took him in, his hollowed cheeks, messy hair, his bloodshot eyes, and his whole demeanor just...different.

"Shawn I'm worried about you." You sighed as you walked closer, the boy shaking his head as he ran a hand over his face. "I'm okay." Shawn stated ever so softly, eyes avoiding yours and that only made your frown deepen.

Worry was growing inside your chest the more you look at him, all defeated and lost, because as much as you're angry and hurt with everything that involves him, you can't find it in yourself to turn off that caring side, the one you'll always have when it's him.

"No Shawn, you are not okay. This isn't you." Your shoulders slumped as you watched him avoid your gaze still, head hanging low even when you're only just a foot apart. "You're not one to pick up fights Shawn, not even when you're drunk. Out of all the people I know, you're the one who has the most control with their temper. And you don't look okay, you've lost so much weight and I can tell just by looking at you. You look too tired, and you just don't look...happy." You pointed out softly.

Shawn lifted his head as he nodded, bottom lip caught between his teeth to stop it from trembling, but his eyes were still elsewhere, still refusing to meet yours.

"Shawn, what's going on?" You asked, just in general, because the happy and glowing Shawn you knew was lost. Some might say it was the toll of touring the world but deep inside, you knew there was something else, something more.

"I–I'm sorry." Shawn croaked, voice breaking as he finally looked at you, so much guilt and regret swimming in his teary eyes. "I–Tom told me... that you went through so much because of me and I'm just—I'm so sorry honey. I really screwed up and I–I know this will never be enough but I'm really sorry... for everything." Shawn couldn't get his words out straight, lips quivering as he tried his very best to keep his tears at bay, but he was miserably failing at it.

You felt your heart ache at the sight, completely at a loss for words because you don't really know what to say. You can't lie to him just to make him feel better, and you can't tell him anything else apart from the full truth. But the truth might just be too cruel, because you haven't forgiven him, at least not yet, and you really don't want to rub salt on the gaping wound.

Shawn must've sensed that you were troubled, because he took courage to take your hand in his, touch delicate as he gave it a reassuring squeeze. "It's okay if you don't want to say anything. I know it will never be easy to forgive me and I understand that, I don't deserve an easy way out of this." He was sniffling his words, tears now slowly falling down his face as he looks at you ever so longingly, and you were stuck again, stuck under his gaze.

You can feel your own tears starting to build, just looking at the broken man in front of you was enough to pull at your heartstrings. You were so conflicted inside, two voices in your head arguing on what you should do, and you don't have the strength to choose one, not when Shawn was so close, close enough to make your walls crumble piece by piece, close enough too for him to easily sway your decision.

Lifting a hand up Shawn cupped your cheek, fingers trembling until it touched your skin, the cold feeling of his palm making your eyes flutter shut as you tried to get a hold of whatever rational thought you had left.

You weren't giving in, you just can't, not after everything you've been through.

"I was fucking stupid, and there won't be a day that goes by that I won't regret everything that I did to you. I will live with the consequences for as long as I need to, but I want you—no, I need you to know that I do still love you, and I–I think I always will." You shook your head as a quiet sob escaped your lips before you could even stop it, a single tear escaping down your face because you were suddenly taken back, to all those memories, both dreams and nightmares.

The stitches on your heart were starting to rip apart, one thread at a time, the pain and hurt back on it's course as your mind kept replaying everything, both good and bad but the bad, it always seems to have the upper hand. "Shawn I—we can't, I can't go back." You whispered. The shake in your voice, the look of utter sorrow and conflict written across your beautiful features were enough for Shawn to understand what was meant, when Tom said that Shawn was only hurting you even further by pushing his way back into your life.

He truly does understand, and as much as he hates to admit it, Tom has opened his eyes. "I know honey, I know and I respect and accept that. It was wrong for me to ask after everything that you've been through, after everything that I put you through. You deserve so much better and I'm really sorry angel." Both of Shawn's hand were holding your face tenderly now, thumb swiping across your cheek to get rid of the tears that were coating them.

You could only give him a nod as you sniffled, words still a jumbled mess inside your head while so many different feelings swam in your heart. You weren't usually the one to grow speechless when it comes to most things, but tonight, you properly have no idea what to say. You can't tell him it's okay when it's not, you can't say you forgive him when you haven't, and you also can't say what the future might hold for the both of you because you really don't know.

The way he looks so fragile, so broken as trickle of tears kept running down his face, you can't find it in you at all to just tell him the cold truth.

Shawn closed his eyes momentarily, dragging in a breath, gathering all the strength that he has left before his brown orbs met yours again. "It hurts me to say this but it's the right thing to do. I have to let you go and I will. I'll keep my distance and let you heal, let you be as happy as you can be, even if it's not with me."

"And you're right, you always are. I am not okay." Shawn let's out a broken sob at that, his dried up tears replaced by new ones as it falls down his face, eyes back on the ground to hide the pain coating them.

Your nimble fingers wrapped itself around his wrists, slowly pulling his hands off your face as you took it in yours. You gave it a squeeze, the action making Shawn look up back to you with teary eyes and trembling lips. "Shawn, you need to take care of yourself. You need to heal too. And please, don't do it for me, don't do it for anyone else but you. Be okay for yourself. Please?"

Shawn gave you a soft nod, a slight pang hitting his chest because you just have the biggest heart, and the fact that he broke it to pieces, he feels so angry and disappointed at himself.

"Can you promise that?" You flashed him a small but genuine smile, hands letting go of his as you raised your pinky finger between your bodies.

Shawn bit his bottom lip to suppress a sob, slowly nodding his head as the tears blurred his vision again. The fact that you still have a little faith that he'd keep a promise, after everything, you just deserve the whole world and more. Shawn is and will always be the biggest idiot for what's he's done to a person as sweet and kind as you.

"I–I promise."

You engulfed him in a hug much to Shawn's surprise, but slowly, his strong arms wrapped around your waist as you rubbed comforting circles on his back. Shawn closed his eyes to relish your warm embrace, as sigh of content escaping his lips, giving you one last squeeze before pulling away.

You two looked at each other, sharing a short but sweet moment as you both exchanged smiles. It wasn't as wide nor bright, but it was genuine, a telltale sign that whatever the future maybe for the both of you, the path of redemption, forgiveness and healing was clear. Whether your paths would cross again at the end? It was for the universe to know and you to find out.

"I'll see you around rockstar."

And with that you walked away. But oddly enough, Shawn's heart doesn't feel as heavy as he watched you leave. Shawn felt content with what happened and he was gladly looking forward to what lies ahead.

-:-:-:-:-

Like and Reblog if you enjoyed! x

S.M. Permanent Taglist: @dylshoney @keithseabrook27 @outlandishnerd @particularsof @chrizzy95 @sunshinesofty @bitch-imma-head-out @lettingtherosegrow @shawnshoooodies @nedthegay @luvluvxx @adonishawn @justanotherfangurl272 @h-oneyholland @baefrombombay @whotfiskate @loveydoveyshawn @hehemendes @greedydevil @minkvrp @peacedolantwins2 @shawnsvlogsquad @666mendes @valedictorian65 @vinylmendes @tastebaldwin

Lemme know if you want to be added/removed from the s.m. permanent taglist loves! <3

234 notes · View notes

dear-wormwoods · 5 years ago

Note

may I ask for a style fanfic rec list? 🥺🥺🥺

I have a couple of requests for this and I’ve been thinking about how to respond, because to be honest, I very rarely read fic these days. And by ‘these days’ I mean like, since 2014. I always have things I intend to read, but then time goes by and I don’t get around to it. So nothing I’m going to rec is new and you’ve probably already read them fkjds.

Anyway, sorry to be predictable by just being like “read Hollycomb’s fics” but...

The Scenic Route - 116k words, should be rated E for the final two chapters (I literally have no idea why it’s rated T on AO3, it was definitely M when I first read it on ff.net years ago)

Summary: The boys embark on a six day road trip to California before separating for college. Cartman is a pain in the ass, Kenny has no future, Butters is in crisis, and Kyle doesn't know how he'll say goodbye to Stan.

Why you should read it: The yearning. This fic is written entirely in Kyle’s POV, and Holly does such a brilliant job of getting into his head and really capturing that feeling of already mourning a friendship/relationship before it’s even over and kind of intentionally setting the bridge on fire to make what is (seemingly) inevitable hurry along, as if that will make it hurt less (it doesn’t). The first six chapters, the actual road trip portion of the fic (where the T rating actually does apply), are where it is at its strongest, and Kyle’s gradual descent into panicky, angry desperation is painfully real. I can’t stress enough how in character everyone is, each retaining recognizable mannerisms and dynamics from canon while still clearly being grown people entering adulthood. There’s a reason this fic is THE Style fic.

Leave the Pieces - 251k words, rated E (though that rating only represents a small portion of such a long fic)

Summary: Stan and Kyle meet as strangers in their mid-twenties, shocked to encounter someone else who can't remember the first ten years of his life. They form an instant connection, but only one person in South Park remembers them, and Kenny can't explain why they disappeared or why the rest of the town forgot them.

Why you should read it: It’s a lengthy epic with supernatural elements, a complicated plot that fits right into the show’s universe, and the kind of love that quite literally transcends time, space, and memory. I can’t explain it much further without giving away the plot, but this behemoth is gut wrenching and powerful. It is equal parts a story about Stan and Kyle finding each other as adults and falling in love despite not remembering who they are, or each other, and a deep exploration into Kenny’s character and his curse. Kenny is really the MVP of the story, despite it initially seeming like “just” a Style fic, and his relationship with Wendy is written beautifully and convincingly. One caveat, though: some parts of this fic... I’m not a fan of. I greatly dislike Cartman/Butters just as a concept, and there were times, particularly in the first half of the fic, where I almost quit reading because of their scenes. I also feel like this fic fell victim to fandom’s earlier tendency to mischaracterize Craig as borderline sociopathic (but in contrast, he’s absolutely perfect in Holly’s oneshot Other People’s Tupperware). However, I’m such a sucker for supernatural memory loss not being able to sever soul connections, and Stan, Kyle, Kenny, and Wendy’s respective journeys more than make up for my reluctance to stomach Cartman/Butters or other comparatively minor issues. And honestly, everything does fall into place as the plot unfolds, so all I can say is... if you hit certain scenes and think ‘wtf IS this??’, just stick it out, the payoff is worth it, especially if you’re looking for high quality Kenny content.

Amalgamation - 78k words, rated T (but should be rated M imo, because there are sex scenes, though they aren’t very explicit, just intimate)

Summary: In 1862, Kyle's family is forced to move from New York to a tiny mining settlement at the foot of Pike's Peak in Colorado. Kyle is sixteen years old and miserable until he meets Stan, a fellow transplant who has been in town for three years. Their feelings for each other are shadowed by the town's haunted history, and for Kyle the local legends begin to feel more like real nightmares.

Why you should read it: I know ‘1860′s gold mining settlement AU’ doesn’t sound very fascinating, but it is. This is another one that’s written in Kyle’s POV and again Holly does a wonderful job of expressing his emotional turmoil, the guilt and shame he feels, his self-righteousness, and the depth of his love for Stan. Everyone is as they would be if the clock was turned back 150 years, made different by the time period and the demands of their circumstances but still obviously recognizable. The old-timey atmosphere and world-building are so seamless and never feels unrelatable. There are also supernatural/ghost/mystery themes in this one and the fear is palpable.

From the Queen of England to the Hounds of Hell - 170k words, rated E, includes major character death (aside from Kenny)

Summary: Ten years after the execution of Terrance and Phillip, the war with Canada has not ended. Stan and most of Kyle's friends are planning to join the army after high school graduation, bound to be drafted anyway. Kyle doesn't believe in the war, but he's not willing to let Stan go without him.

Why you should read it: This is.... a perfect fic, and I don’t say that lightly. It is quite possibly the ONLY perfect fic I have ever read, in any fandom. I can’t actually describe all the ways in which it’s perfect without giving the plot details away, but, God, if you commit to reading just one of the long-ass fics I’m reccing on this list, make it this one. Please. It honestly makes me mad that this one never got the same attention as like, The Scenic Route, or ‘Night School’ did, because it so deserves to be up there. Only Holly could take the concept of the fucking movie and turn it into a completely devastating, bittersweet, epic romance. There is no caveat here, no ‘I loved it except for this and this’, just thorough, soul-crushing perfection. Just... Kyle. God, Kyle. I can’t elaborate, my heart isn’t up to the task. This fic will haunt me for the rest of my life.

The Ascent of Stan - 32k words, rated E, though it is like 95% domestic fluff

Summary: Stan sells his small pest control company and Kyle thinks they should use some of the money to go to Hawaii, where he proceeds to grill Stan about the mid-life crisis that Stan claims he's not having while their kids frolic nearby.

Why you should read it: This one is everything a domestic fic should be. It basically just chronicles the events of a week-long vacation to Hawaii that nearly-40 Stan and Kyle take with their two kids. This one is written fully in Stan’s POV and it works so well... he’s exactly the kind of dad that I imagine he would be, doing his best to provide for and protect his family’s little bubble and resolving to be better than his father while quietly fighting the lingering shadow of his alcoholism and cynicism. There’s no real conflict in this one, just 30,000 words of a very typical family vacation: not exactly blissful, irritating at times, but ultimately the foundation for perfect memories.

Never Change - 115k words, rated E

Summary: Thirteen years after his high school girlfriend's pregnancy upended his life, Stan is still in South Park, working with his partner Bebe as a local cop. They're in the process of investigating a series of possibly connected murders when FBI agent Kyle Broflovski returns to town and informs his old friend Stan that this is his investigation now.

Why you should read it: This is equal parts a murder mystery and a romance. It features exactly the kind of Stan/Kyle situation I hate to think about - a decade-long estrangement of their own making that comes to an abrupt end due to extenuating circumstances. It hurts because of how likely it is to happen that way, and it works especially well in this fic because of Stan’s reluctance to embrace his own bisexuality until he’s nearly 30 and Kyle’s tendency to put up walls to protect himself. Also, Bebe features prominently in this fic, which is always a huge bonus.

Bonus Oneshot Rec:

The Reformation of Fart Boy - 7k words, unrated but probably T, just barely

Summary: Five times South Park has brought Kyle to the brink of sanity and Stan has brought him back.

Why you should read it: I love thinking about the ways in which canon-typical nonsense continues to impact the characters in the long term on a serious psychological level. Kyle has suffered a lot in canon and it’s obvious even in the show that it is gradually changing him and wearing him down, so I really love this fic for focusing on his responses to some of the more traumatic moments, as seen through Stan’s eyes.

I feel sort of guilty only reccing one author for right now, because there are other fics out there that I liked and am planning on revisiting, but this post is long enough as it is. Chances are you’ve already read some or all of these, but they’re my favorites. I reread all of them while making this list, and they still hit me hard after all these years.

#asks #south park #sp style #stan marsh #kyle broflovski #fic recs

61 notes · View notes

abzilp · 6 years ago

Text

The modern German novel begins with The Adventures of Simplicius Simplicissimus (Der abenteuerliche Simplicissimus Teutsch, 1668) by Hans Grimmelshausen (1622?–76). One of the greatest novels of the 17th century, this 5-part, 400-page book is a boisterous Oktoberfest of genres bumping bellies: bildungsroman, picaresque, allegory, (anti)war novel, hagiography, fantastic voyage, romance, ghost story, sermon, and utopian novel. Referring to the frontispiece depicting a leering satyr/phoenix/bird/fish creature pointing at a book, one German critic admitted “the history of literary forms stands helpless before such a Tragelaph.”64 Initially, it resembles a picaresque novel, especially Alemán’s Guzman of Alfarache, which had been adapted into German by Aegidius Albertinus in 1615. Beginning about halfway through the Thirty Years’ War (1618–48), the narrator explains how he was raised nameless and uneducated among peasants until the marauding Imperial army looted his village when he was 12 or 13; he escapes into the nearby forest and is taken under the wing of a religious hermit who names him Simplicius because of his ignorance—he’s never seen a horse, and assumes soldiers riding them are a centaurlike hybrid of man and wolf—and brainwashes him with Christianity before allowing him to read more books borrowed from the local pastor. After the hermit dies, Simplicius returns to the world at war and yo-yos from one camp to another; treated like a fool, he becomes a professional jester until he can work his way up the ranks. He becomes a marauding prankster known as the Hunter of Soest, and on one occasion discovers an abandoned treasure in a haunted house, which seems to ensure his fortune. Knowing he’s betraying his Christian upbringing but powerless to resist, Simplicius then accompanies a young nobleman to Paris, where he becomes an actor and a gigolo, the beginning of a downward moral spiral that takes him back penniless to Germany, where he scrapes by as a traveling quack until he’s forced back into the army. Determined to settle down, he marries a country lass (who turns into a drunk), reunites with his “father” (who tells Simplicius he is actually the son of the hermit who raised him, a Scottish nobleman who abandoned the world in disgust), travels some more (Russia and Asia) before returning home disillusioned with everything, and becomes a hermit—choosing the life that had been forced upon him as a frightened boy. So it seems the entire novel has been a sermon against unchristian behavior, and a religious call for renunciation of the sinful world.

But Grimmelshausen complicates this picaresque pilgrim’s progress in many intriguing ways. On the one hand, the novel is graphically realistic, much more so than spiritually oriented works are. The attack on young Simplicius’s village is described in sickening detail: the soldiers ransack and torch everything, torture the peasants, and rape the women. Later, peasants capture a soldier, cut off his nose, and force him to lick their assholes before they bury him alive in a barrel; when other soldiers capture the cleansed peasants, “They bound their hands and feet together round a fallen tree in such a way that their backsides (if you will forgive me again) were sticking up nicely in the air. Then they pulled down their trousers, took several yards of fuse, tied knots in it and ran it up and down in their arses to such effect that the blood came pouring out. The peasants screamed pitifully, but the soldiers were enjoying it and did not stop their sawing until they were through the skin and flesh and down to the bone.”65 Young Grimmelshausen was an eyewitness to such atrocities—the first third of the novel is somewhat autobiographical; his handling of a child’s POV is superb—and his willingness to report what he saw so unflinchingly makes Simplicissimus a primary source for historians of the Thirty Years’ War. (You’ll recall the Spanish Estebanillo González is also set during that conflict and captures some of the chaos of war, but Grimmelshausen focuses on the civilian population.)

Such language also makes the novel a primary document in the rise of realism in fiction; not since Thomas Nashe had any novelist dared to describe the aftermath of battle in such gruesome terms as he uses: “there were heads that had lost the bodies they belonged to and bodies lacking heads; some had their entrails hanging out in sickening fashion, others their skull smashed and the brain spattered over the ground; . . . there were shot-off arms with the fingers still moving, as if they wanted to get back into the fighting, . . .” (2.27). The dialogue is equally realistic: “Pox on you, brother, are you still alive?” one soldier greets another. “By the holy fuckrament, the Devil looks after his own!” (1.26). As a licensed fool, Simplicius doesn’t mince words when asked to describe a fashionable visitor: “This lady has hair as yellow as baby shit and the parting is as white and as straight as if she had been hit on the scalp with a curry-comb. And her hair is in such neat rolls it looks like hollow pipes, or as if she had a pound of candles or a dozen sausages hanging down each side. And oh, look at her lovely smooth forehead, is it not more beautifully curved than a fat buttock and whiter than a dead man’s skull which has been hanging out in the wind and rain for years?” (2.9). Simplicius often embarrasses himself by farting noisily; people vomit, shit, swear, scratch at lice and fleas. There’s sex and some nudity: sailing on the Danube for Vienna, Simplicius “had eyes for nothing but the women who answered the calls from the boats with literal rather than verbal bare-arsed cheek” (5.3).66 The point is religious writers don’t write like this—nowhere in Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress does a farmboy tell a dairymaid “that she could kiss his arse and go fuck her mammy in the bargain” (3.23)—which calls into question the ostensibly religious orientation of the novel. Something else is afoot.

Though highly realistic, more so than most pre-20th-century novels, Simplicissimus is, on the other hand, highly unrealistic and brazenly supernatural. Grimmelshausen’s novel often reads like a Grimms’ fairy tale, for Simplicius lives in a demon-haunted world where people still cast spells, foretell the future, and consort with devils. When he leaves the forest for the town, some citizens “thought I was a spectre, a ghost or some such phenomenon” (1.19)—phenomena as real to them as the butcher or the baker. In book 2, Simplicius is foraging at night and sneaks into a farmhouse, where he spies a few people who “had a sulphurous blue lamp on the bench by the light of which they were greasing sticks, brooms, pitchforks, stools and benches. Then, one after the other, they flew out of the window on them.” Puzzled, he sits on one of the benches and instantly shoots out the window and lands about 150 miles northeast to witness a witches’ dance, described with Boschean extravagance. Invited to join the dance, “I cried out loud to God, at which the whole crew vanished” (2.17). Simplicius insists this actually happened, and wasn’t a dream; citing similar stories from reputable scholars, including the story of Faust, he dares the reader to disbelieve him: “if you don’t believe it, you will have to think up some other way in which I went in such short time from Hersfeld or Fulda (I still don’t know where I was, wandering round in the forest) to the vicinity of Magdeburg” (2.18). There he is taken into a regiment that includes a prevost-sergeant who “was a true sorcerer and black magician who knew a spell for finding out thieves and another to make not only himself as bullet-proof as steel, but others too.” To find a thief, “the sorcerer muttered a few words and puppies started to jump out of people’s pockets, sleeves, boots, flies and any other openings in their dress, one, two, three or more at a time” (2.22). A little later, Simplicius invents a pocket-sized instrument that enables him to hear things taking place miles away, and again taunts the reader: “However, I am not surprised if people do not believe what I have just written” (3.1). The treasure he discovers is guarded by a “ghost or wraith” (3.12), which is not a product of his imagination, nor is the demon who speaks to him from inside a man undergoing exorcism (5.2). Near the end is the greatest test of the reader’s incredulity: tossing some stones into the “enchanted” Mummelsee, “a supposedly bottomless lake” (5.10)—a real lake in the Black Forest, but now known to be only 55 feet deep—some sylphs come to the surface, give him a magic jewel that enables him to breathe underwater, then take him to the center of the earth for a 16-page tour of their subterranean world and discuss their place in the Christian scheme of things.67

All this takes place on the “factual” plane of the novel, and doesn’t include numerous instances where people are mistaken for devils, or Simplicius’s allegorical dream of the military establishment as a tree (which allows Grimmelshausen to criticize further the suffering inflicting upon civilians) “with Mars, the God of War, on the top, and covering the whole of Europe with its branches” (1.18). One chapter is entitled “How Simplicius Was Dragged Down into Hell by Four Devils and Treated to Spanish Wine” (2.5), followed by “How Simplicius Went to Heaven and Was Turned into a Calf” (2.6), but these are merely pranks soldiers play on the naïve lad. Later he meets a madman who calls himself Jupiter, whom Simplicius plays along with by referring himself to Ganymede or Mercury, and layered on top of other references to classical mythology and German folklore is an elaborate set of references to Chaldean astrology. It’s tempting to call this magic realism were it not closer to the aesthetics of the medieval morality play, where figures representing devils or the sun shared the same stage as mortals. Christianity is part and parcel of this magical/medieval world: throughout the novel, saints and angels are evoked in the same breath as figures from myth and folklore, supernatural events are defended with citations of similar events in the Bible, and Christian theology is indistinguishable from the world of myth and magic. If you believe in the miracles in the Bible, the novel implies, then you’re no different from those who believe witches ride broomsticks and sorcerers cause puppies to magically crawl out of your pocket. As in Don Quixote, there is a clash between old-world and new-world weltanschauungs, and by the end of the novel, Christianity has been so thoroughly contaminated by its association with outdated mythology that Simplicius’s quixotic decision to renounce the world at age 33 and become a Christian hermit can only be regarded as the act of a simpleton. The novel encourages figurative detachment from the world, not literal.

Grimmelshausen certainly didn’t drop out to play the holy fool: he managed estates, ran several inns, was the mayor of a small town, had 10 kids, and wrote more than 20 books. He converted from Protestantism to Catholicism when younger (to help his careers, it’s been suggested), but he knew the only real magic is the act of artistic creation. There’s a lovely passage near the end of book 1 in which an officer’s secretary praises writing as a way to make a living; Simplicius thinks he’s talking about magic (and is reminded of “Fortunatus’s inexhaustible purse”), but Grimmelshausen is also praising the novelist’s art of creating something from nothing:

I once criticised him for his dirty inkwell but he replied that it was the best thing in his whole room for he could draw up out of it anything he wanted: fine gold ducats, fine clothes, in short all his possessions had been fished out of his inkwell one by one. I refused to believe that such magnificent things could be obtained from such a paltry container. He replied that it was the spiritus paperi, as he called the ink, that did it, and that an inkwell was called a well because you could draw up all sorts of things out of it. (1.27)

Out of Grimmelshausen’s dirty inkwell came this devilishly clever satire on 17th-century society, a world “so full of foolishness that no one takes any notice or laughs at it anymore,” as Simplicius notes (3.17), encouraging him to “castigate all follies and censure all vanities” (2.10). Simplicissimus begins like a picaresque bildungsroman but opens up into a Menippean satire, a blitzkrieg against pretension, hypocrisy, superstition, and especially the alleged nobility of war. There’s no bullshit here about dulce et decorum est pro patria mori, a con kings and politicians have been using to recruit cannon-fodder ever since Horace penned that piece of propaganda. The Thirty Years’ War was essentially a family squabble between the Hapsburgs and the Bourbons for territorial control over Europe (with some Protestant vs. Catholic window-dressing), about as noble as a mob turf war, and though Grimmelshausen sarcastically notes war is good for business (5.5), he rubs his reader’s face in its barbaric nature with a force that wouldn’t be felt again until the antiwar novels of the 20th century. As Simplicius fools his way through war-torn, phantasmagoric Germany, I was remind of Slothrop in Gravity’s Rainbow; Grimmelshausen even indulges in some Pynchonesque personification: on one of his foraging expeditions, Simplicius sees “a sight for sore eyes or, rather, empty bellies: hanging up in the chimney were hams, sausages and sides of bacon. They seemed to be smiling at me, so I gave them a come-hither look, wishing they would come and join my comrades in the woods, but in vain; the hard-hearted things ignored me and stayed hanging there” (2.31). Simplicissimus belongs to the same insubordinate platoon as The Good Soldier Švejk, The Tin Drum, and Catch-22.

Though Grimmelshausen drew upon personal experiences for the early parts of the novel, he drew mostly upon his extensive reading. Scholars have shown that more than 150 books went into the making of this erudite novel, ranging from classical authors and the medieval Parzival to the 6-page passage from Antonio de Guevara’s 16th-century theological tract that concludes book 5. A German translation of Charles Sorel’s iconoclastic antinovel Francion (see pp. 182–86 below) was a major inspiration, but Grimmelshausen also drew upon Italian novellas and German jestbooks (like Till Eulenspiegel), encyclopedias and almanacs, and manuals on witchcraft like Johann Wier’s De Præstigiis dæmonium (2.8). A battle scene that sounds like an eyewitness report actually comes from a German translation of Sidney’s Arcadia (which should give military historians pause). On one occasion, Simplicius visits a pastor and finds him “reading my Chaste Joseph” (3.19)—a biblical novel Grimmelshausen published in 1666, though it’s only 1639 at this point! That’s so obviously an anachronism that it has to be deliberate, another taunting call for the suspension of disbelief like Simplicius’s magical bench ride and his sylph-escorted journey to the center of the earth. It’s all one to “the old inkslinger” (2.4).

Cervantes waited 10 years to publish a sequel to Don Quixote, but Grimmelshausen jumped on the unexpected success of Simplicissimus. When the 5-book novel was reprinted in 1669, he added a 6th book simply entitled Continuation (Continuatio), though scholars are divided on whether this forms an organic whole with the previous part, or is the first of several sequels Grimmelshausen published over the next few years.

Like most hastily written sequels, the Continuation isn’t very good. Picking up where book 5 left off, Simplicius’s solitary life as a hermit seems to be driving him crazy, for first he recounts a long, allegorical dream that starts in hell with Lucifer gnashing his teeth at the declaration of peace that ended the Thirty Years’ War, which morphs into a didactic tale of a rich young Englishman who ruins himself through conspicuous consumption. Our hairy hermit then encounters a statue that comes to life, and—after Simplicius decides to hit the road as a pilgrim—he gets into an argument with some toilet paper, who delivers a long economic history of its many metamorphoses from seed to paper (a remarkable set-piece that again brings Pynchon to mind). Mistaken for the Wandering Jew, spooked by ghosts, Simplicius has further bizarre adventures as he travels to Egypt, then is shipwrecked on a deserted island off the coast of Australia, where he leads a Robinson Crusoe-type existence—this section was based on the popular English novelette by Henry Neville, The Isle of Pines (1668)—and there he writes the entire Simplicissimus novel on palm leaves. Refusing rescue by a Dutch sea captain, Simplicius intends to live out the rest of his pious life on his island hideaway, “an example of change and a mirror of the inconstancy of human life.”68 Although the book offers further displays of the author’s outlandish erudition, it’s too didactic, too medieval.

Grimmelshausen returns to form in The Life of Courage (Die Landstörtzerin Courasche, 1670).69 Near the end of Simplicissimus, our protagonist had boasted of seducing and dumping a beatiful lady, a “man-trap” whose “easy virtue soon disgusted him” (5.6); nine months later, she leaves a baby on his doorstep, who Simplicius reluctantly makes his son and heir. Audaciously blurring the distinction between fiction and reality, Grimmelshausen states in a headnote that this unnamed woman read Simplicissimus and was so insulted at her portrayal therein that she decided to avenge herself by telling the story of her life, revealing that the woman he took for an aristocrat was actually a promiscuous adventuress infected with syphilis—which raises an intriguing possibility: Did Simplicius contract the disease from her? Untreated, it can cause insanity, which would explain the underwater sylphic adventure later in book 5 and the talking toilet paper. Indeed, the entire bizarre Continuation can be read as a neurosyphilitic hallucination. If nothing else, it stinks up the odor of sanctity with which Simplicissimus ends.

Just as the Continuation anticipates Robinson Crusoe, this short novel anticipates Defoe’s Moll Flanders, but with no apology at the end for the life she’s led. (Grimmelshausen, however, tacks on a homiletic warning against following her example.) Inspired by a German translation of Lopez de Úbeda’s Justina, Grimmelshausen backtracks to the very beginning of the Thirty Years’ War. Born in Bohemia, 13-year-old Libuschka disguises herself as a boy to avoid rape from invading soldiers and joins the army: “I made a great effort to get rid of all my woman’s habits and acquire man’s. I took great pains to learn to swear like a trooper and drink like a fish . . . so that no one should suspect there was something I had not been endowed with at birth” (2). When it’s revealed during a fight she lacks that certain something, she defiantly calls her vulva Courage, which becomes her girl-power nom de guerre in her fight against male prejudice as well as opposing armies.70 Over the next dozen years, she is repeatedly married to soldiers, repeatedly raped by other other soldiers, then becomes a prostitute, then a black marketeer, doing whatever it takes to survive the war, and marrying whoever promises shelter from the storm. (Through no fault of her own, her husbands usually perish before their first anniversary.) She’s smart, as courageous as her name implies, and fiercely independent; she doesn’t really descend into criminal behavior until later in life, when she joins a band of Gypsies. And that child she left on Simplicius’s doorstep? Not hers, but her slutty maid’s. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and Courage takes self-incriminating delight in telling Simplex (as she calls him) how wrong he was about everything.

Like Simplicissimus, Courage is graphically realistic but includes a few magical elements. The Spanish Justina tried to dodge sexual encounters, but Courage welcomes them: she’s a novelty in novels of this period, a sexually active woman who doesn’t feel guilty about scratching her itch (as puts it). While we have to remember that a man is writing this, Grimmelshausen was a worldly one and knew that women have sexual desires too, which you wouldn’t guess from most novels published before the 20th century. Like Simplicius, Courage occasionally reads courtly romance novels, but only to pick up “pretty turns of phrase from” for the purposes of seduction (5; cf. Simplicissimus 3.18: “these books taught me how to lure the female sex”). Rebelling against the polite romance tradition, Grimmelshausen opposes his hard-core realism to their unrealistic fantasies; like his model Charles Sorel, he was out to destroy the mainstream novel, and Courage is an earthy and bracing alternative to most 17th-century fiction.

One of Courage’s longer-term relationships was with a lackey/paramour she nicknamed Tearaway, from the time she told him, “Tear yourself away from that cart and go and fetch the dappled grey from the grazing” (16). After she dumped him for drunkenness and domestic violence, this rascal became one of Simplicius’s gang during his Hunter of Soest period. He tells his story in Tearaway (Der seltzame Springinsfeld, 1670), which begins when the young scribe Courage had hired to write down her memoir runs into Simplicius, lately returned from Australia, and his old servant Tearaway at an inn.71 The scribe tells them what Courage dictated to him—Simplicius interrupts to admit he was also banging Courage’s maid, so that baby is his son after all—and also of her life with the Gypsies. (Grimmelshausen may be the first to write about them in fiction.) We learn that Simplicius, as pious as ever, is annoyed that readers are treating his Simplicissimus merely as a jestbook like Till Eulenspiegel instead of the Christian allegory he intended. Incongruously, he is now making a living as a traveling salesman peddling an elixir that improves wine, using a magic book as part of his spiel—another occasion Grimmelshausen uses, like the dirty inkwell, for a tribute to the power of imaginative writing—and after nine chapters of metafictional scene-setting, Tearaway tells how he spent the war. Like much of Simplicissimus, Tearaway is a grim, grunt’s-eye view of war, where greed for booty trumps patriotic duty, and which brings out the worst in everyone. Tearaway admits “Soldiers are there to persecute the peasants and any that leave them in peace aren’t doing their job properly,” but also notes “some peasants were worse than the good soldiers themselves. They not only murder soldiers, innocent and guilty, whenever they managed to get hold of them, when they had the chance, they stole from their neighbours, even from their own friends and relations” (13). This section is sketchy, obviously worked up not from firsthand experience but from the same war chronicle Grimmelshausen used for Courage, Eberhard von Wassenberg’s Erneuerter Teutscher Florus (1647). After the war is over, Tearaway marries a widow and becomes a crooked innkeeper, abandons both, then marries a hurdy-gurdy player and scrapes out a living accompanying her on the fiddle as wandering musicians. This colorful, realistic account of tramping morphs into a fairy tale in which his wife discovers a magical bird’s nest that confers invisibility on its owner; Tearaway’s too cowardly to use it for gain—she isn’t, and winds up being burned as a witch as a result—and the tatterdemalion is still playing for pfennigs when he runs in to his old master. Simplicius tries to recall him to Christian principles, which Tearaway initially dismisses as “a load of monkish tripe” (27), though he repents just before he dies.

“The Miraculous Bird’s Nest” (Das wunderbarliche Vogelnest, 1672 [part 1] and 1675 [part 2]) is the title of the last two sections of what Grimmelshausen eventually called the Simplician Cycle. In part 1, a do-gooder named Michael uses the cloaking device to obstruct various misdeeds while searching for an honorable way to make money; in part 2, an unnamed merchant, less scrupulous than Michael (and more like Tearaway’s wife), takes advantage of invisibility to commit various acts of greed, lust, and sorcery. The miraculous bird’s nest functions as a “lens through which the bearer perceives reality” (Negus, 124), another analog for one of fiction’s purposes. Simplicius’s son appears in one episode in part 1, but otherwise the 2-part novel is only thematically related to the preceding novels, emphasizing once again the inconstancy of fortune, the prevalence of evil, and the consequent necessity of adhering to Christian principles. Books 1 through 8 of the Simplician Cycle depicted a world at war, but in these final two books Grimmelshausen argues that the world at peace is just as dangerous. They sound mildly entertaining, but as they’ve not been translated, I can only direct the interested reader elsewhere for more on the conclusion to Grimmelshausen’s 10-part, 800-page meganovel.72

Unlike part 2 of Don Quixote, the second half of the Simplician Cycle isn’t as impressive as the first half (i.e., Simplicissimus), but that doesn’t prevent Grimmelshausen from occupying the same lofty position in early German literature, and his influence on later German writers is profound. He impressed Ludwig Tieck and other German Romantics, the Grimm brothers and Goethe, and his work played a patriotic part in the unification of Germany in the 19th century. Most major German novelists of the 20th century have paid tribute to him: Thomas Mann borrowed from his work for his Felix Krull and Doctor Faust, and in his introduction to a Swedish translation of Simplicissimus, he wrote: “It is the rarest kind of monument to life and literature, for it has survived almost three centuries and will survive many more. It is a story of the most basic kind of grandeur—gaudy, wild, raw, amusing, rollicking and ragged, boiling with life, on intimate terms with death and the devil—but in the end, contrite and fully tired of a world wasting itself in blood, pillage and lust, but immortal in the miserable splendor of its sins.”73 Hesse greatly admired Grimmelshausen, and from him Bertolt Brecht conceived the idea for his play Mother Courage and Her Children (1949). Grimmelshausen’s earthy, erudite, punning language was an inspirational starting point for Arno Schmidt’s even more outlandish diction. I implied earlier that the young Simplicius has something in common with Oskar Matzerath in Günter Grass’s Tin Drum (1959), and Grimmelshausen steals the show in Grass’s erudite critifiction The Meeting at Telgte (1979), an imaginary conference of several German authors in 1647, in which Grass affectionately roasts the old inkslinger:

In his green doublet and plumed hat he looked like something out of a storybook. . . . [After he] had offered his services in a long-winded speech well larded with tropes, Harsdörffer took Dach aside. True, he said, the fellow prates like an itinerant astrologer—he had introduced himself to the assemblage as Jupiter’s favorite, whom, as they could see, Venus had punished in France—but he had wit, and was better read than his clowning might lead one to suspect. . . . His lies, said Harsdörffer, are as inspired as any romances; his eloquence reduces the very Jesuits to silence; not just the church fathers, but all the gods and their planets are at his fingertips; he is familiar with the seamy side of life, and wherever he goes, in Cologne, in Recklinghausen, in Soest, he knows his way about. . . . Hofmannswaldau stood dumbfounded; hadn’t the fellow just quoted a passage from Opitz’s translation of the Arcadia? . . . His words seemed as trustworthy as the sheen of the double row of buttons on his green doublet. (6–7)

In this novel Grimmelshausen is still in his mid-twenties, but someday, the narrator predicts, “he would let every foul smell out of the bag; a chronicler, he would bring back the long war as a word-butchery, let loose gruesome laughter, and give the [German] language license to be what it is: crude and soft-spoken, whole and stricken, here Frenchified, there melancolicky, but always drawn from the casks of life. Yes, he would write! By Jupiter, Mercury, and Apollo, he would!” (112–13).

#steven moore #the novel: an alternative history 1600-1800 #hans jakob christoffel von grimmelshausen #simplicissimus #tom nashe #miguel de cervantes #bertolt brecht #arno schmidt

2 notes · View notes