#like would his having lived - after having had a change of philosophy - have ruined their relationship
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huge eric fan now for how he is about his weird little two-thousand-year-old enlightened teenage dad . like, oh, i'm huge and tall but i never want to seem like i'm looming over you so whenever we're face to face i'll kneel or sit below you and look up like you're some kind of jesus . when i met you i thought you were death and you said come walk with me through the dark and i said what's in it for me? and it's been a thousand years and i'm the age now that you were then and i haven't changed; i'm still a careless, blood-soaked opportunist and loving it, but you decided you were a pacifist somewhere in the past couple centuries and i SO SUPER don't get it but i love you so i hope you're happy and enjoying your linen smocks and ancient mien of peaceful remorse. and then i let you die because you think it will help and i hate to let you down. and i never get over you, ever
#do you think if godric hadn't died that eric would eventually be like. oh ive grown past him he has become weak in his dotage#unlike me a strong hot thousand year old bloodthirsty jock#like would his having lived - after having had a change of philosophy - have ruined their relationship?#was his death a catalyst for reflection or a catalyst for stagnation?#because most vampires. they stagnate or they get obsessive . that's just what happens when you live long enough to get bored#but he was having new experiences until his last moment on earth#and that's rare. other vamps - ones even older than he was - are extremely stagnant and extremely obsessive#they find their rut and they grind themselves into it until it kills them#godric was like. well i've had enough of this rut. let's try something else . and then he died. and like. he died -#but he died doing something he'd never done before which is impressive at two thousand forty something#true blood#q
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Honestly I feel that if someone were to face Guts about all the shit he's done as the Black Swordsman he'd probably just...grimly accept it and move on
He wouldn't be consumed by guilt and begging for forgiveness, he'd just accept that he did what he did while also insisting that he has no intention of just getting stuck in his past actions or, I dunno, do jail time.
That's not necessarily because Guts feels no guilt about his past transgressions (his whole "weaklings who can't defend themselves" mentality was just a rationalization to protect his conscience from guilt, he felt awful about the priest and his daughter and about Vargas, not to mention the kids of Misty Valley), it's just that, as he tells Casca during his breakdown, he has killed so many people due to his life style that it's easy for him to just stop thinking about it after a while. Even back in Golden Age: he's traumatized after accidentally killing Adonis, a few days later however he's already gotten over it
It's both a result of Guts being accustomed to killing people since he was a child and also due to Guts' philosophy about always moving forward and living life how you want to no matter what, whose only obstacle is Griffith.
Remember: the deciding factor for him to abandon his path of revenge was just Casca being in danger, not him realizing he was ruining people's lives and needed to stop. In the end the Beast of Darkness can be viewed as a form of retribution: it was born due to the Eclipse but it only got as strong as it is due to Guts living such a hate filled bloody life as the Black Swordsman, and if he thinks he can just walk away from that with no repercussions then the Beast is there to remind him of what he used to be. It threatening to kill his new friends is Guts having to come to terms with the monster he had allowed himself to become, except now the target is not just apostles with a bunch of nameless civilians in the way that he can cause the deaths of while having a detatched attitude about it,the target is now his family, every time he dons the Armor Guts gets to experience what it feels like to have the Black Swordsman come in and kill your loved ones while in a blind rage
Now if CASCA were to confront him about what he's done during those years...I feel that would be a much different story...
I can't add much.
At the end of the day, Guts is a child soldier. He was trained to kill, and to kill for trifling reasons like money. While he has a soft spot for children, which is why the entire ordeal with Rosine was so harrowing for him (and while he stopped torturing himself over Adonis quickly, killing him still left an impact on him, not helped by hearing Griffith accidentally dismissing Guts as a friend), death as a whole has no meaning on him. He's used to being hated, which is probably why he has already forgotten about the trauma he left on Theresia.
It's interesting to think Guts and Griffith share a similar "no point in looking back, the only way is forward" mentality, but for different reasons: Griffith has tunnel vision, and he's projected towards the future (he's a pretty skilled manipulator and plotter for a reason), while Guts lives in the present, day by day.
I think his way of thinking can be seen when Farnese pledges her alliance to him, and he says "eh, I killed some of your men, we're even, do what you want", matter-of-factly... while inside he's much more tortured inside over what he has just done to Casca, which is the real reason he's even entertaining changing his lifestyle and travelling with the people he has both hurt and helped.
#berserk#guts berserk#i suppose this is something to take into consideration when we talk about characters like him#guts isn't one to wallow in guilt and self-loathing#although he feels them in part#at some point he deliberately suppresses them
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Joseph Rykwert
Architectural writer who believed that buildings not be considered in isolation but as part of the fabric of a city
Joseph Rykwert, who has died aged 98, was a historian and critic of architecture of exceptional intellect, cultural breadth and distinctive outlook. His books and his teaching changed the understanding of his discipline and helped to move the design and planning of cities and buildings away from the functionalist mindset that dominated postwar building. In 2014 he was awarded Britain’s leading honour for architecture, the Royal Gold Medal, one of a very few times that it has been given to a writer rather than a practitioner.
Rykwert’s first book, The Idea of a Town (1963), by exploring the rituals that underlay the founding of ancient cities, sought to restore the importance of such things as memory, feeling, intuition and instinct in the making of the places where human beings live. It was an important part of a wider reaction to technocratic approaches that were causing widespread destruction in cities across the world. It is now commonplace for developers and planners to talk about “placemaking”, by which they mean the ways in which architecture and landscape work together to make social urban spaces, a concept that owes much to Rykwert’s belief that buildings should not be considered in isolation but as part of the fabric of a city.
His other books included On Adam’s House in Paradise (1972), on architects’ enduring fascination with the idea of a primitive hut at one with nature, and The First Moderns (1980) – his favourite – which revealed the roots of 20th-century ideas of modernity in thinkers and architects 200 years earlier.
In all his work Rykwert moved readily between architecture, philosophy, art and other disciplines, aided by his wide erudition and an impressive library that he started building as a student. He was motivated by his certainty that the design of buildings is always part of a wider culture, and by his passion for the places that make a city flourish, whether a remembered street in pre-war Poland or a forum in ancient Etruria. He was, as the writer Susan Sontag put it, an “ingeniously speculative historian and critic of architecture – of that is, the forms (in the most concrete sense) of civilisation.”
The many architects whom he inspired and influenced include the Stirling prize winners Sir David Chipperfield and Witherford Watson Mann, Eric Parry, Patrick Lynch, and Sir James Stirling (the giant of British architecture after whom the prize was named).
Rykwert’s demeanour was gentle and civilised – “the sort of great-uncle I would have liked to have”, as one former student, the artist Richard Wentworth, now puts it, who “always imparted a general sense of mischief”. This character was all the more remarkable for the traumas of his childhood, in which he and his family had to flee for their lives from the advancing German armies. Many of his relatives died in the Holocaust.
Joseph was born in Warsaw, the son of Elizabeth (nee Melup), and Szymon Rykwert. His father, a railways engineer, was ruined after the great crash of 1929, but worked his way back to prosperity. In September 1939, when the Wehrmacht invaded Poland, the Rykwerts escaped via Lithuania, Latvia and Sweden to Britain. Joseph went to Charterhouse, a “plunge” in his words “into the wholly alien world” of an English boarding school. His father died of a stroke early in Joseph’s time there, leaving his mother “skimping” to pay his fees. He went to the Bartlett School of Architecture, which was evacuated to Cambridge in wartime, then the Architectural Association in London.
He started to write, studiously, taking two years to complete his first book review for the Burlington Magazine. He wanted to work for “the London architect I most admired”, Ernö Goldfinger, but was put off by the measly pay on offer – 30 shillings a week – and went instead to the pioneer British modernists Maxwell Fry and Jane Drew, who paid five times as much. Rykwert later decided to refuse a job offer in the Paris studio of the most famous architect of the 20th century, Le Corbusier, who paid nothing. Eventually, although his built works included a fur-lined nightclub and a house in Chelsea, Rykwert’s writing and teaching would take over from designing buildings.
In both London and Paris, which he visited as a young man, the postwar years were for him a time of “exhilaration and easy familiarity” in which “people of great intellectual and professional distinction ... seemed prepared to accept an obscure and impoverished youth as a partner in dialogue.” From the age of 18 he exchanged ideas with the future Nobel prizewinner Elias Canetti. Later he became friends with Italo Calvino, whose 1972 novel Invisible Cities owed something to Rykwert’s urban thinking, and the painters Prunella Clough and Michael Ayrton. Iris Murdoch, Umberto Eco and Saul Steinberg were also acquaintances. In 1968 he would befriend the great modernist designer Eileen Gray, then living in obscurity at the age of 90, and rediscover her work in an article for the Italian magazine Domus.
He started to teach, including at Ulm School of Design, in Germany, then considered to be the heir of the Bauhaus as (in Rykwert’s words) “the forge of all that was new in design”, although he found its “systematic rationality” uncongenial. He was librarian and tutor at the Royal College of Art in London from 1961 to 1967 and from 1967 to 1980 professor of art at the new University of Essex.
His postgraduate seminars for the university, held in various locations including the Royal Academy in London with the historian and theorist Dalibor Veselý, were groundbreaking for the way they combined architecture with philosophy and anthropology.
After Essex, Rykwert held posts and professorships at the University of Cambridge and, from 1988 to 1998, at the University of Pennsylvania, and visiting appointments in numerous universities in several countries. In his retirement he continued to welcome lively and creative minds to his book-lined London flat. He was appointed CBE in 2014.
His first marriage, to Jane Morton, ended in divorce. In 1972 he married Anne Engel, his editor on The First Moderns, with whom he enjoyed a successful partnership until her death in 2015. He is survived by Sebastian, his son with Jane, and by Anne’s daughter from a previous marriage, Marina, and by two step-granddaughters.
🔔 Joseph Rykwert, architectural historian and critic, born 5 April 1926; died 18 October 2024
Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?
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The Fake Confession Scene
This is a love letter to my favourite scene in the anime + manga, the scene that sold Hananene to 14 year old me, and got me reading the manga after 3 long years of forgetting about it. Let it be known, no words are able to express my love for this scene, but that doesn't mean I won't try.
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I am obviously not fully blaming Hanako or saying the misunderstanding was fully on his side, but he still apologised because impact > intent. Hanako hung out with Yashiro long enough to know that love is a big deal to her, and when he sees her cry, the gravity of his actions finally sink in. He realised not only that he made a girl cry (headcanon of old fashioned Hanako is thriving right now), he just ruined Yashiro's first time being confessed to.
Knowing what we know now, it's obvious Hanako doesn't care about his friends as much as he does in the recent chapters. Not only that, he is a very prideful person (despite hating himself), so for him to be so ashamed of himself and his actions in that moment really adds more weight to it. His apology is more heart warming and sincere than his fake confession, and not to sound like a broken record, but seeing how he was so ashamed he couldn't even look Yashiro in the eyes makes it a thousand times better.
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This is an eye-opening moment for Yashiro as well, and a defining moment in their relationship, since she begins to see Hanako in a new light. This vulnerable, gentle side of him made her want to learn more about him. Her opinion of him has changed so drastically not only because he took off his hat (which alone is a constant reminder that he comes from a different time), but she saw him feel shame, regret, human emotions. A big part of what makes us human is our sensibility which can also make us recognise our mistakes and learn from them, thus evolving (is it obvious my favourite subject in school is philosophy ?)
Yashiro is reminded that before being "Hanako-San of the toilet", he was a person, just as alive as her. This was shocking enough on its own, but what really shook her to her core is learning from Tsuchigomori later on that dying so young was never his fate. Despite being in a dark place during his childhood, Amane had a bright future waiting for him. Had he not altered his fate, "Yugi Amane" would have just been her science teacher, not the eternally 13 year old boy that she desperately wanted to know more about.
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While this is the first time those two share a heart to heart, there is still something between them, literally and figuratively. Figuratively, we're talking about a friendship/romance between a living girl and a ghost, it is bound for heartbreak. Literally, when Hanako pulls Yashiro in to hug her, the gate separates them. Hanako remains inside the school grounds he is confined to, and Yashiro has already crossed the threshold to go outside into the world of the living, and Hanako is holding her back.
This parallels a moment in the picture perfect arc when Hanako comforts Yashiro and promises he would save her. While his words are sweet and he is comforting her again as she is crying, he is hugging her through the bars of the cell he put her in. Hanako is putting a distance between the two of them, both voluntarily and involuntarily.
They both intrigue each other, and this is the moment that starts it all. Yashiro's curiosity and Hanako's inexplicable concern/affection for Yashiro would only grow into something else from this point onwards, and there was no need for it to be put into words (ignore that this is exactly what I just did)
;
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Young Rhaenyra getting revenge on the Hightowers au
"I intend to marry... the lady Alicent Hightower"
With this one sentence, Rhaenyra's world changed once again. She looked upon Alicent and saw her nervous and picking at her fingers. Rhaenyra immediately knew what was happening. She had always knew Otto Hightower would whore his daughter out to all the lords of the land if it got him closer to power. She understood the implications behind Alicent's absence these past moons. Alicent had not been busy with prayers... she had been busy with the king.
In the background, Rhaenyra can hear the Sea Snake argue about insults against his house. But Rhaenyra did not care. Being born a girl had given her a hard life even though she is royalty. Her father always discarded her unless he wishes to feel hopeful. The fact that the departed queen Aemma was able to give birth to a child that had survived infancy and became a dragon rider had given the king hope that one day his long-awaited son would be the same. Being born a daughter and not a son had forced her mother to bear a child after the other, had forced her to be gutted like some animal for the unguaranteed life of a child. Sometimes Rhaenyra feels glad that the child was a boy who did not live. She cannot imagine what would have happened if it had been a girl who did.
"No!" had left Rhaenyra before she can stop herself. All eyes are on her now. Her father would never change even if Rhaenyra had wanted him to. If her father cannot change then at least he should pay for his mistakes. This was the moment that she can use to avenge her mother, her uncle, and herself. She had been spending moons studying history and philosophy. She knows how to hypothetically win an argument and her father already ruined chances of reconciliation with the Velaryons. She can use this to sow doubt in his Hand and make sure he never remarries or at least not marry a traitor for if Alicent betrayed her in this, who would say that she will not betray her in other matters?
"What?"
"No your grace. You cannot marry the lady Alicent Hightower"
"I am the king! I will marry whoever I want. You yourself have given me your word that you are alright with this marriage"
"Any man who says 'I am the king' is no true king but then again you seem to content to follow in his path. Disregarding your brother and your former wife for others for the sake of the Hightowers. Choosing to marry a Hightower girl."
"What... who?"
"I'm talking about Maegor father, surly you remember that he married a Hightower girl and his seed didn't take root. Who's to say that your seed will take root with her when her own reputation is on the line. I've been hearing whispers of her sneaking into your bed in the middle of the night"
"Rhaenyra we haven't done anything" Alicent answered.
There it was! The confirmation of Alicent's betrayel and her shame. While Valyrians have no care for such matters, the Andals were a different story.
Rhaenyra ignored Alicent's outburst and continued "Is this truly the legacy you wish for? To be similar to Maegor? We do not know if his Hightower in-laws whispered in his ear or not. We only know of his actions. So who will protect you when your Hightower in-law Hand whisper in your ears to name whatever son she begets you as heir or you do not change me being the heir but them following Maegor's footsteps to put Hightower blood on the throne and usurping me? When they use Andal and Faith traditions as an excuse for the usurpation? I had agreed about your marriage with Laena since she and I are kin and I do not believe she would usurp me"
Alicent and Otto Hightower had turned pale the moment I mentioned being usurpers. It is no doubt their intentions to displace me as heir. Corlys Velaryon looks amused. I do not believe he would offer Laena again but he will be a strong ally if only to snub her father and the lords who rejected Rhaenys' claim. Other council members looked alarmed. No one wants to be likened to Maegor the cruel and house Hightower had no doubt lost a lot of political opportunities. This imagery will be spread across the land by night fall.
"Rhaenyra, there is no need for such fears my child. Otto Hightower is an honorable man and he was the main force behind you being named as heir." the King said calmly, as if everything Rhaenyra has just said is a joke.
"Your grace, even the most honorable of men can commit treason for the sake of his blood"
"No my child, that is simply not true. But to dissuade your fears, Otto will swear an oath in front of everyone today that neither him nor the future queen will contest your claim" the king said unknowing of the trap he just laid in front of his Hand. Truly, Otto could not have picked a better puppet but he forgot that puppets could be commandeered in different directions.
Should I continue?
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Mistakenly Saving the Villain - Chapter 17
Original Title: 论救错反派的下场
Genres: Drama, Romance, Xianxia, Yaoi
This translation is the product of my limited knowledge of Chinese characters as I attempt to learn the language. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.
Chapter Index
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Chapter 17 - A Lifetime of Memories
Song Qingshi hugged Yue Wuhuan tightly in his arms that night, desperately comforting him and speaking incoherently throughout. He cycled through philosophy, medicine, and sociology theories, and when he was excited, he burst out in English, German and Latin. All the while, Yue Wuhuan couldn't understand. Even he himself didn't know what he was saying.
At least, he had the right attitude. . .
Yue Wuhuan had already recovered. He quietly smelled the comfortable fragrance of the medicine on his body and listened to those messy but reassuring words. The corners of his mouth could not help but curl up slightly, feeling a little bit bitter.
He has long known that he couldn't hide it for the sake of temporary security and waited for others to present these dirty pasts in front of Song Qingshi to sow discord and smear him at will. So during the trip to Lecheng, even if Song Qingshi didn't find these picture albums, he would've taken the initiative to lure him to the bookstore, pretending to let him see them casually, and then while he still likes him, be honest, fight for sympathy and promises, and ruining the chance of some scheming person to do it instead.
So ridiculous. . .
It was obviously something that he had been prepared for a long time ago, but the moment Song Qingshi opened the picture album, he was still so embarrassed that he couldn't bear it. What's even more embarrassing is that even though Song Qingshi saw such things, there was anger and sympathy in Song Qingshi's eyes but no desire at all. This made him realize more clearly that the likes of the two are different.
Song Qingshi's type of like was appreciation, cherishing, and love.
His type of like was exclusivity, aggression, and desire.
Yue Wuhuan greedily kissed the tip of his hair, thinking about it like crazy. . .
Why is it that every time he tries, he sees only good in this person?
How could he let go of this?
How nice would it have been to meet this person when he was clean?
The venom of resentment spread from his heart to his whole body. He hated Xie Que, hated Jin Feiren and everything that soiled him. He hated this disgusting world so much. He wanted to destroy all the places outside Medicine King Valley so that there was only one piece of pure land and only enough for one person. . .
. . .
After this incident, the two rested their minds while visiting Lecheng. They rested casually for the night and set off for Medicine King Valley the next morning.
Song Qingshi studied various options for Yue Wuhuan to change his face and hide his identity along the way.
He even thought about plastic surgery to change his face, but ultimately could not destroy that perfect face. . .
Suddenly, the sound of a fight between cultivators came from the forest.
Song Qingshi stopped the immortal beast to look, but saw that it was two high-level cultivators fighting for their lives, their swords filled with energy, and the sky filled with heavenly weapons. After fighting for about two-quarters of an hour, the cultivator in black was defeated miserably, and the cultivator who defeated him took his heavenly weapon and mustard bag and hurriedly sailed away on his sword.
This kind of drama of killing and taking away treasures was common in the immortal world, and neither could determine the identity and grievances of either side.
Therefore, unless you know one of the parties, you wont interfere in this matter.
Song Qingshi followed the laws of this world and did not want to get involved in these messy things. After watching for a while, he was ready to turn the immortal beast and drive away.
Yue Wuhuan stopped him: "Master, let's go and see. Maybe that person is still alive."
After he finished speaking, he drove the immortal beast to the cultivator in black. Song Qingshi hurriedly followed after seeing this.
Although the black-clothed cultivator still had breath, he was seriously injured. There were seven or eight sword cuts on his body, some internal organs were also damaged, and he was unconscious. If he left him alone, he might not live for long.
In order to avoid trouble, Medicine King Valley never accepted patients with unknown origins.
Song Qingshi frowned, a little hesitant.
Yue Wuhuan squatted down, put on gloves, carefully inspected the black cultivator's wound, and then asked: "Master, you recently taught me the method of suturing and wound healing, which I have learned, but I lack the opportunity to practice them myself. Can you bring this wounded man back to Medicine King Valley so that I can heal him and practice my medical skills?"
The shou protagonist is still kind-hearted even though he encountered such ugliness, and he may become a famous doctor who can help the world in the future.
Song Qingshi let out a long sigh and immediately agreed to help the patient with some emergency treatment. They put him on the immortal beast and took him back.
In Medicine King Valley, Song Qingshi placed the patient in a quiet ward.
This was the first patient Yue Wuhuan took charge of. He was extraordinarily attentive, not only stitching up all the wounds but also boiling the medicine for the patient himself, constantly recording the vital signs and asking for advice on everything, lest there be any mistake. Song Qingshi also had to lament that he's highly talented. He did everything right, every step was done perfectly, and the medical records were well-written. There was almost nothing to criticize. After the patient's injury showed obvious signs of improvement, he was relieved to leave the matter in the hands of Yue Wuhuan.
The black-clothed cultivator woke up three days later. He smelled the smell of medicine in the room, moved his wound a little and found it was tightly bandaged. Knowing that he had been rescued, he was very happy. He raised his head to thank his benefactor but saw a bright, beautiful face he had never forgotten.
"I-It was you who saved me?" The black-clothed cultivator murmured.
Yue Wuhuan had been watching over the sickbed for a long time, and when he woke up, he nodded his head and bowed, "This slave has met the immortal elder."
The black-clothed cultivator named She Yun was a demon cultivator, not really a figurehead. Two years ago, he was lucky enough to visit Golden Phoenix Manor with his friends. Originally, they were not qualified to meet such a stunning beauty as Yue Wuhuan. However, the beauty did not serve the distinguished guests well that night. As a punishment, he was drugged and rewarded to them so they could have fun.
The lax phoenix eyes, the demonic tear mole, the seductive voice, the imprisoning mark.
The pleasure of that night could never be forgotten.
No matter what kind of brothel he was looking for, he didn't have such a taste anymore.
She Yun looked closely at Yue Wuhuan and felt some thirst in his throat. The slave was under the control of the Acacia Seal and had no ability to hurt people, so why was the beauty trying to save him? Could it be that he still remembered him. . .
Under those scorching eyes, Yue Wuhuan lowered his head slightly. He poured out the elixir that had been warmed for a long time in the pot, carefully served him to eat it, and then said with a smile: "The medicine is bitter, so take a sugar pill, Immortal."
With his fair fingers, he put a sugar pill into She Yun's mouth.
Beautiful eyes looked at him, full of tenderness and expectation.
She Yun was too dizzy to think. The sugar pill melted in his mouth, and there seemed to be some weird bitterness inside.
Yue Wuhuan waited for him to finish taking the medicine and got up to clean up the room. He piled all the miscellaneous things in the room into a corner, leaving only a small empty table and chairs, and then put on a pair of light demon beast skin gloves.
She Yun asked expectantly, "Do you remember me?"
Yue Wuhuan walked back and looked at him, eyes blooming with desire: "The immortal elder made this slave happy. This slave does not dare to forget."
In the past, he was like a flowering branch that had been artificially pruned. Although he was beautiful, he was too pretentious. Now he has his own colour, which was even more dazzling, and he was even more beautiful than before. If Jin Feiren saw it, he would regret letting go of such stunning looks, right?
She Yun felt his mouth dry, his heart beating faster. His whole body felt weak, and his lower body gradually started to react.
Yue Wuhuan glanced at him and smiled even more charmingly. He gently slid his fingertips across She Yun's chest, picking open his shirt, and then pressed heavily, saying ambiguously: "Today, I want to have sex with the immortal elder again. Is that okay?"
She Yun was so teased that he couldn't believe that such a good thing would happen, he quickly promised: "My heart is pleased with you, and if you are disgusted by your master, I would like to take you back."
Yue Wuhuan smiled happily as if hearing something funny.
Immediately afterwards, She Yun saw Yue Wuhuan paste a no-sound talisman charm on the door and then take out a bunch of strange small tools from the mustard bag and put them on the table covered with a white cloth. Knives, scissors, pliers, saws, and some horrible instruments he didn’t know the names of. He introduced them one by one: "This is a scalpel, these are surgical scissors and bone scissors, and these are curved forceps. . ."
She Yun sensed something was wrong and wanted to struggle to get up, but found that he had lost control of his hands and feet and couldn't move.
"You've taken the Puppet Pill. I haven't made it very well. I can't control your actions, but this is enough." Yue Wuhuan put on his robe, put on a mask, picked up a scalpel, and asked with concern, "Now, apart from not being able to move your body, you can feel everything, right?"
She Yun was shocked and angry: "You're not controlled by the Acacia Seal?"
Yue Wuhuan let out a mocking chuckle, but there was no human emotion in his eyes, only the madness and longing that was threatening to overflow like a demon crawling out of hell.
"Please, please, don't do this." She Yun finally realized what was going to happen and begged frantically, "Let me go!"
This night was like that night, the devil faced with the defenceless lamb, no pity, no mercy, only cruel play.
The scalpel fell heavily, and the wailing sound continued for a long time.
"Are you comfortable being penetrated?"
The devil happily repeated what he had said word for word:
"Come, let me enjoy this ultimate pleasure on earth. . ."
"Please me with your vile body. . ."
"Scream well, scream to the point of ecstasy. . ."
". . ."
Yue Wuhuan looked at the dirty blood on his hands, but his heart was very satisfied.
So he really is crazy.
. . .
It was late at night, and Song Qingshi was still sitting on the luohan bed in the library reading a book and suddenly found that Yue Wuhuan was leaning against the door and looking at him. He took a bath at some point, wearing a newly made red unlined garment, exuding a mixture of orchids and medicinal herbs. His hair was also wet, casually curled up, and his mood seemed to be very good.
Song Qingshi raised his hand and signalled him to come in: "Taking a bath so late? Be careful not to catch a cold."
"My clothes came across some dirty things, so I washed them," Yue Wuhuan obediently sat on the luohan bed and opened a book casually, "I can't sleep. I want to read a book with Master, okay?"
Song Qingshi naturally welcomed him and pushed the snacks on the table toward him.
"By the way," Yue Wuhuan said casually, "The cultivator who was rescued a few days ago woke up and insisted on leaving, so I let him go."
Song Qingshi was slightly stunned: "He's gone? His injury hasn't healed yet."
Yue Wuhuan said: "I saw that he seemd to have some personal concerns, so I don't want to ask more."
Song Qingshi was afraid that he would be unhappy, so he persuaded him: "Patients who are forcibly discharged from the hospital can't be controlled so just let him go."
Yue Wuhuan laughed and said, "It's okay. He paid me, so we don't owe each other."
Song Qingshi saw that he didn't take it seriously, so he put the matter aside and concentrated on studying.
Yue Wuhuan leaned over lazily, feasting on his scent.
The crazy killing intent gradually dissipated, and the bloodthirsty desire slowly calmed down.
This is his pure land.
The author has something to say: Top Scholar Song: That patient is really disrespectful, and disobedient. He was just discharged from the hospital before his injury could heal. Next time, he won’t be admitted.
Yue Wuhuan: Good.
(The medical information text is based on this doujinshi’s information. If something is wrong, real medical students and doctors will hit me. . .)
#mistakenly saving the villain translation#mistakenly saving the villain#bl novel#chinese novel#english translation#chinese bl#danmei#danmei novel#yaoi#yaoi novel#song qingshi#yue wuhuan
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[OoC, contains !spoilers! for Ahsoka ep. 6]
Sadly, the Ahsoka Show did the one thing I feared: it ruined Thrawn as a character. While many discuss his bodily features and presentation, I really don't have an issue with that. There can be numerous reasons outside of the control of the crew why they had it to do and as many in-universe explanations. Yes, it contrasts Thrawns philosophy of training body and mind to keep in shape, but he is an old man by now who lived 30 years or so in exile.
The thing is:
I would've wished they had talked about that in the series too. Perfect moment for a witty comment by Sabine, something like "You've changed...". A short reply like "I am aware. The time I spent here has taken its toll" and I would've been satisfied. But I'm getting carried away as, again, this isn't my main issue. The whole introduction is.
Thrawns character was often a bit ambiguous. But when I took one thing from the new books, then it is the fact that he despises to stage a great show. The whole introduction sequence felt weird. His man love him, yes. And surely after this long time, they would've developed traditions that make it look like a cult. But Thrawn would've never wanted that. And he wouldn't have used it like that for no reason.
But the worst thing is, that now...he is basically a generic villain. Filoni has done that in Rebels already, yes. But it was a show targeted at kids and teens, so it's understandable that he wanted to have a villain the audience really can hate. Thrawn must be able to hurt the main characters, that's his job.
In Ahsoka tho, I hoped for a complex, layered depiction. And now, not only does he seem to despise Jedi in general, which doesn't even make sense regarding his history, he then pulls the classic "I'm not gonna break my promises, when I never promised to let them live in the first place". That's the same person who got out of their way to talk to a rebel leader he hunted for YEARS. And after the massacre on the planet he tried to avoid the whole time, he proceeded to low-key threatening his only ally in the political system with consequences for that because he hated losing lifes senselessly.
They better come up with an explanation why he has changed. But I fear it won't happen on screen, since it would have obliged to happen in the introduction scene. People being introduced to the character now will wonder why everyone was so hyped about this very generic villain. And I think this presentation of Thrawn, the fact that people will probably not be interested in "yet another Moff Gideon", that's the big crime Ahsoka did...
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thinking about my Fnaf Rewrite and listening to I'm Not Angry Anymore by Paramore.
like. Rewrite!Michael (or rw!Michael) is Very different from canon. he's more an anxious wreck of a man with a lot of bottled up emotions. anger and bitterness at his situation, that he just kept losing people close to him, that he would come close to losing people he cared about.
Michael, instead of being the eldest sibling, was instead the second eldest. a boy with frayed nerves, the glue holding the family together. his father's spitting image, yet different from him as could be. a guardian of his siblings, but also constantly butting heads with the only sibling that's older than him. a people pleaser, his father's little helper.
Cassidy's death changed him. despite not being the one wearing a Foxy mask this time around, he blames himself. for not watching closer, for not being able to do more.
he goes through life, having lost most people close to him except for his other two brothers, Alex and Evan. but it seems tragedy keeps following him. Jeremy, a childhood friend, a kindred spirit in a sense because of their shared losses, gets bitten in the brain and nearly dies. his brother, Alex, gets a taste of his own medicine (Mike swears that he's the only person in his family that is spared from Cassidy's utter wrath). his father disappears in 1995.
he lives with Jeremy and Andrew, a friend of the two of them, and Michael dates Jeremy. he thinks that with his father gone, he can start to pick up the pieces a little. to try and heal and process everything.
he starts realizing that his father...never was a great person. at least, not after their mom died...he tried every trick short of physically abusing his kids and neglecting them to keep them in line and out of trouble, to keep them from even potentially having the risk of dying. and all it did was ruin everyone further.
then in 2001, Fredbear's, now closed, starts hiring for a security guard. Fredbear and O'Hare (Springbonnie) were moved back after the last Freddy's closed down. "Put 'em back where we found 'em," was Freddy's philosophy. Mike shrugs; as done with Freddy's as he was, he still needs money.
all that happens is that Mike is forced to face a lot of trauma. he finds out that his two youngest siblings Are, in fact, still around, in a way.
...and so is his father.
but he doesn't discover that last part before finding out what his father had done.
of course he's angry. angry that his father's way of handling the loss of Elizabeth was to inflict his very own pain onto others. angry that his father killed a girl that he practically viewed as a sister. angry that his father took so many innocent lives, including the younger brothers of two of Mike's friends.
angry that his father killed his baby brother, just to keep him quiet.
Michael has a different ending than in canon. after setting all of the souls free, he sets the restaurant ablaze, trying to take Henry with him. William would burn, and they could live out the rest of their days; Sammy's got a wife and they're expecting a daughter soon, Michael and Jeremy live together and have adopted two sons. Henry could be a grandfather.
but he stays behind. he chooses to burn with William. it started with the two of them, it will end with the two of them. but he wants Michael to keep living. to raise his kids with Jeremy, to look after Sammy and Evan, to finally be able to breathe. and so Mike runs, leaving two men that he had both considered a father in one way or another to burn in that building. whatever his father had done to Henry from that point onwards, he doesn't know. had his Father simply killed Henry before the fires got to either of them? had they both waited it out? Michael doesn't know. he doesn't think he'll ever know.
but he's with people he considers family now. he and Evan are finally able to really get to know each other and heal; Evan had practically hidden himself away after everything started going wrong, and Michael was too busy trying to stay on his father's good side and protecting Cassidy from Alex. Sammy comes over with his daughter Cassia (or "Cassie" as he calls her) to talk with Mike, Jeremy, and Andrew like they're all kids again.
maybe if he pretends hard enough, he can pretend that nothing bad happened and that everything's still okay.
he and Evan are the only original Aftons left.
but hey, at least they still have each other and the others, right?
Michael's not angry anymore. okay, maybe he is sometimes. but he's got a family he made himself and therapy.
and maybe things can finally get better.
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Reflection on positive psychology
Have you ever heard about positive psychology? If not, don't blame yourself. I didn't know anything about it until recently either. The definition of the term sounds like this:
“Positive psychology is the scientific study of what makes life most worth living” (Peterson, 2008).
In fact, positive psychology is a field of general psychology that spends much of its time thinking about topics like character strengths, optimism, life satisfaction, happiness, well-being, gratitude, compassion (as well as self-compassion), self-esteem and self-confidence, hope, and elevation.
Personally, I was lucky enough to learn about this science from watching a Ted-Talk by Martin Seligman, who is the founder of positive psychology. In the video he talks about how science has changed over the last few decades and about his research, experiments and results. On the importance of studying exactly "Positive Psychology". (I am attaching a link to this speech below for those who are interested in the topic and want to watch the full video, not just read scraps of my thoughts, philosophies and reflections)
youtube
First of all, what I found interesting about this video is that Mr Seligman talks about how people's attitudes to this science have changed over the last few decades: if 20 years ago, while sitting in an airplane, Martin was telling people about what he does - they would move away from him and stop talking. Now, on the contrary, people are becoming interested in the scientist's line of work.
So what has changed? It seems to me that it's all about people's attitude towards psychology itself, as a science of 'what is wrong with us'. Whereas in the past people were repulsed by the issue and did not want to think about their problems and shortcomings, now they are interested in understanding their problems and eliminating them in order to improve their lives. I consider this to be due to the widening of boundaries in the modern world: now everyone is free to express themselves and their opinions, to share their own problems, and without fear of being judged. People have become more open, which means that their shortcomings are not something to be ashamed of. People are now ready to sort themselves out and therefore psychology is very relevant at this stage.
Secondly, the main theme of Martin's speech was still positive psychology, which, as I said earlier, argues that one should not only pay attention to illnesses and the darker sides of personalities, but also to the beneficial ones. People need to learn to think positively, to reason and to celebrate not only the negative events in their lives, but also the very happy moments. And try to make sure that the latter are the majority
I certainly agree that this is the right way to set your mindset, but it actually sounds a lot easier in theory than in practice. And sometimes the system stops working altogether… I will tell you an example of my own.
Brief background: My name is Anna, I am from Ukraine and almost 10 months ago a war broke out in my country. On that day, February 24th, I had to leave everything I had ever treasured or loved and start life anew, as pathetic as it sounds. Since then, regular memories of taking my dog for a walk in the park near my home, or ice-skating with a friend in my town's New Year's Eve square, have never left me. On one hand, these memories are some of the happiest moments of my life, and I agree with the theory that they should only make me feel better. But in reality, they don't. The slightest mention of my past life before the war ruins the whole of my 'new life' that I am trying so hard to build. I realise that I will never be able to relive those days and moments again, I will never be the same and nothing will ever be the same again. Each time it causes me more and more pain.
I don't want to make you feel sympathy for me or make you worry. I just want to tell you about an insight I got after watching the lecture: I guess positive psychology should rather teach people not just to think positively, but to learn to let go of the bad and the past, the things that cannot be changed or returned. Only then will living and breathing become easier.
Take care of your mental health and smile more often, because it has been scientifically proven that the production of endorphins in our bodies increases happiness!
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Hi!! Hope you're doing good and drinking water :) May i request something? 😁 I was listening to "the 1" by Taylor Swift (queen) and got me thinking about a Wanda X Reader story where maybe idk they dated in high school/college but ended cause whatever reason but they never actually stopped liking eachother (yknow, like the song) and then they just meet somewhere and get to talk and you know... happy ending lol But only if you like the idea really. Have a good one!
Hello anon! Here it is, hope you like it. It’s short but is sweet, i hope you like it.
Wanda Maximoff x Reader - The One
Summary: Prompt based “A story where Reader and Wanda broke up and never stopped loving each other. Inspired by the song “The 1″ from Taylor Swift.
Words: 2.531k ///// Read on AO3
Warnings: None.
Marks: @mionemymind @wandamaximoffpuppy
Wanda Maximoff came into your life during autumn.
You were both in the same art history class, and she lent you a pen.
All it took was two dates, and you were completely in love. Unfortunately, as quickly as it started, your relationship burned out.
You wish you had a big plot justification, with betrayals and twists and turns to justify to your friends your emotional misery when it ended, but the only reason was the complete emotional immaturity you had.
There were fights, and accusations, and so much jealousy. And you wish so much that you had gotten over it, but you couldn't. And then Wanda was gathering the clothes that she had in your dormitory, and throwing the key at you.
You swore you wouldn't cry anymore, because there were no more tears after so many weeks, but you kept going. Until all that was left was the bitter feeling that you had ruined everything and lost the most important person in your life.
It had been more than two years since you two had broken up, and you still had the number saved on your cell phone with a heart emoji, even though the conversation had been archived a long time ago. And then you were walking out of the main building at NYU, and your friend Natasha Romanoff called out to you as she walked quickly toward you.
- Hey, girl! - she said with a smile. - How are you?
You shrugged as you walked with her around the campus toward the secondary building, where the Philosophy classrooms were.
- I’m surviving. - You joke with a weak smile, Nat looked at you worriedly, but you shook your head, trying to reassure her. - And how are you doing?
- Fine, I think. - She says, entwining your arms. - I miss you, but things are fine.
You nod, looking forward. You knew that you had been absent in your friends' lives, simply because it seemed that things no longer made much sense since you were no longer with Wanda.
- Did you hear about Bucky and Sam? - she asked, and you let out a sigh.
- Yes, I... I don't know if I'm going to make it.
- Ah, Y/N, please. - She says. - It won't be the same if you are not there.
Natasha was talking about your friends' engagement party, which you were invited to a week ago. You hesitated, because all of Bucky and Sam's friends were invited. And that included Wanda.
You let out a sigh.
- I will make an effort to be there, I promise. - You assure her with a smile.
- You don't want to see Wanda, do you? - Nat asks. And you look at the ground. - Look, I just... I never really understood why you two broke up. But maybe it will be good to see her, you know. Maybe you two need to talk after all.
You shrug, feeling the familiar sadness take over your chest every time you think of Wanda.
- Let's talk about something else okay? - You ask her with a weak smile and Natasha nods, changing the subject as you two walk along the campus.
//-//
You straightened your clothes before knocking on the door. It had been almost two weeks since you had spoken to Natasha, and the day of the party had finally arrived. You saw many cars parked outside the Barnes residence, and were not surprised when one of the family friends answered the door instead of the owners.
You smiled and greeted the gentleman, saying that you were a friend of the grooms, and he smiled back when he let you in. You overheard someone say that it was better to leave the door open because of the number of guests, and you let out a small laugh.
The house was full, and it took a few minutes for you to find Bucky, who looked extremely happy. He smiled slightly surprised when he saw you.
- Hey, you're here! - he said, walking over to you. - It's so good to see you!
Bucky hugged you tight and you laughed lightly, saying that it was very good to see him too.
- How are things going? - you asked as you broke the embrace. - Are you feeling anxious?
Bucky laughed, putting his hands in his pockets.
- Everything is working well. My parents are helping me and Sammy to organize everything. - he says, smiling. - And damn, yes. I can't wait for the ceremony.
You laugh, nodding in understanding. You talk for a few more minutes until Sam comes to check on the groom.
- Wow, look at you Wilson! - You exclaim when you see him, and he opens his arms toward you, grinning contently. You hug each other tightly. - It's good to see you, my friend.
- Yeah, it's great to see you too, stranger. - He smiles back, and then you part. - Glad you could make it.
- I couldn't miss the first wedding of the group. - You joked and made them laugh.
And then they were talking about the preparations for the wedding, and the family members who had come from far away, and you were smiling and laughing at the stories. But everything seemed to slow down when your gaze focused on someone behind Bucky, the only person who always had the ability to capture your full attention.
Wanda had just walked through the front door, and was taking off her coat. You barely noticed Pietro standing beside her, as your heart started racing at seeing her again. Sam called out to you a few times, until you blinked and looked at him.
- Wow, you really haven't changed at all. - he teased. - Three years and you are still completely out of breath when you see her.
You blushed, telling him to shut up, but Bucky and Sam just giggled. And then you swallowed hard, because Wanda was looking around and her gaze met yours.
Your gas in surprise, and you told the couple in front of you that you needed a drink, then you rushed to escape the room.
You ended up on the balcony, trying to recover from the intensity of the previous moment, completely affected by seeing Wanda again.
You thought it was the best to greet the people you knew at the party, and after talking to Clint and his girlfriend Laura, and also to Steve, Tony and Bruce, you made your way to the family circles. Bucky's parents and siblings were very friendly, and Sam's family was very warm, and they all hugged you and smiled. And then you were walking around the house again, and Nat approached you, two drinks in her hands, and one of them she handed to you.
- You really came. - She said with a smile. - Bucky just told me and I didn't believe it.
- The faith you have in me is touching. - You sneered with irony and she laughed before taking a sip of her drink. You looked at your own glass suspiciously.
- Is this champagne? - you asked, and she nodded, making you sigh. You put the glass on the balcony table near you. - Thanks but I'm driving.
Nat grumbled in understanding.
- You're running away from her, aren't you? - She remarked when she noticed your gaze wandering around the room.
- Is it that obvious?
Nat laughed lightly.
- I suppose you are going to be uncomfortable for the next few minutes, since I just told her I was coming to talk to you and invite her to join me. - She tells you and you turn your face to her sharply with a surprised expression.
- Wait what?
But Nat is smiling past you and then you feel your body tense up as Wanda's voice sounds behind your back. Nat is saying something about how nice it is that everyone is together, while you turn around and you’re probably staring, but you can't react to having Wanda in front of you. Just as beautiful as she was three years ago.
- Hi. - She said a moment later looking up at you, a slight blush on her cheeks. It took a gentle nudge from Nat's elbow on your rib for you to react.
- Hi. - you exclaimed surprised and slightly uncomfortable. - How... How are you?
Wanda smiled awkwardly.
- Good, I... i'm good. And you? - she asked hesitantly. You nodded frantically, trying to smile.
- Good, good. I... Good.
- Jesus. - You heard Natasha say as she looked at the two of you with a frown. - Okay. I'll put our names in the gymkhana, and you can continue with whatever this is by yourselves.
You scratched your neck uncomfortably as Natasha hurried to leave.
- So... how are things? - Wanda asked, putting her hands in her pockets.
Ignoring your current anxiety, you assumed a thoughtful expression for a few seconds.
- Things are fine. I’m... I... I'm graduating. - You tell clumsily, running your hands through your hair. - Yeah, I... I'm graduating in a few weeks.
- Wow, that’s actually really cool. - She comments with a smile.
- I think so. - You say, laughing nervously. - What about you, Wands, how are you? Are you still studying?
Wanda blushes at the way you call her, looking away. You barely notice the nickname escaping your lips. But then she is smiling, so you don't notice much beyond that.
- Yes, I still have a year to go, but I'm doing well. - she says. You nod in understanding, but then Pietro is joining you two, a smile on his face.
- Wow, it's really good to see you Y/N. - He remarks as soon as he reaches you two and hugs you. You laugh lightly.
- It's good to see you too, Pietro. - you say when you let go. - I like the beard, by the way.
- Thanks, I'm trying to look older. - He comments with a cocky smile, and you laugh, ignoring the nervousness of having Wanda looking right at you. - I didn't know you would be here today, I heard you were going back to California.
- Oh, yes, I... I am. - You say clumsily, gazing at Wanda quickly. - After I graduate, I'm going back home. I don't really have anything to keep me here.
- That's a shame, really. - Pietro says and you try to focus on his face and not on Wanda's frown. - But I hope you will keep in touch with everyone by skype at least.
He jokes last, and you laugh, nodding. And then he starts asking you about college and your parents, and you answer politely, trying to ignore the nervousness in your stomach that has settled with Wanda's attentive look on you.
- Pietro, would you get me something to drink, please? - Wanda asked after a moment, and you and Pietro looked at her in surprise, but she just smiled innocently, and her brother grumbled, before nodding and leaving. - Can we talk for a moment?
You blinked in confusion, but agree. Wanda took your hand next, and you bit the inside of your cheek, feeling your face flush as she pulled you around the yard, toward a farther area.
When she stopped walking, she let go of your hand, and turned around to face you, looking nervous and a bit anxious.
- Are you really leaving? - She asked with a almost sorrowful expression.
You straightened your posture, frowning slightly.
- Yes, I... Wanda, what is it?
- Okay, I’m.. I'm going to say this once, because I have to, and then we'll go back to our life as before, okay? - She said hurriedly, closing her eyes for a moment as she took a deep breath while you just stare her. - I'm still in love with you. And I know we broke up two years ago, but I just couldn't move on. And I guess a part of me never will. - She confesses and you feel the air escape from your lungs. - And I need you to know this before you leave, because I almost couldn't come to this party because I knew you would be here. And I can't believe that we were this intense and amazing thing only just for me. - She says last. But you are in shock, so Wanda swallows dryly. - Damn, I'm... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything and…
- I love you. - You confess interrupting her, listening to your heart pounding in your ears.
- W-what?
- I love you. - You repeat breathlessly as you are moving forward and kissing Wanda firmly. She stumbles back in surprise, but you keep your hands on her face, until she sighs in delight and kisses you back with the same intensity. It feels as good as you remember, but eventually you part breathlessly and start talking with your forehead touching. - I'm sorry I ruined things between us. I was stupid, childish and a bloody idiot. But I'm completely in love with you and i have always been.
Wanda lets out a surprised laugh, her eyes filled with tears. And then she kisses you again.
- God, we are a complete disaster. - She comments as you separate, making you laugh lightly. And then she swallows dryly, stroking your face with her thumbs. - What are we going to do now?
You smile, hugging her waist.
- I'm not going anywhere if you ask me to stay. - You tell her, making her sigh with surprise and happiness.
- Be my girlfriend, then. - She asks, and you let out a giggle.
- I'd love to. - You say, and then back away a little. - We'll make it work this time, Wanda. I'm going to love you the right way now.
Wanda nods in understanding, looking at you tenderly.
- You have always loved me the right way. - she says. - We just didn't know how to show it properly.
You sigh.
- I missed you. - You say, bringing your foreheads together.
- I missed you too. - She breathlessly retorts before kissing you again.
The kiss intensified in the next second, and you ended up pushing Wanda against the outer wall of the house, and she sighed into your mouth. God, you missed her taste. Then she sighed against your lips, and you slowed down, because you are literally in an engagement party.
When you parted, you let out a breathless giggle.
- We should get back to the party. - Wanda comments, her face close to yours. You grumble in agreement, before kissing her again, your tongue running slowly and sensually across her mouth, making a warmth rise in the pit of your stomach.
- Wow. - You say breathlessly a moment later, breaking the kiss for breath. Wanda's hands are dangerously low. She lets out a breathless chuckle, her face flushed. You swallow dryly, clearing your throat. - We'd better go before I can't stop.
Wanda smiles, nodding her head in agreement. And then you took a step back, and it was easier to breathe and think clearly.
When you returned to the party, holding hands, Natasha stared at you two and sighed, taking a twenty-dollar bill from her pocket and handing it to Pietro, who had a smug smile on his face. She complained that she had bet that you two would only get back together after the party, while Pietro had bet that it would be during. You and Wanda's faces reddened, but you laughed at the story.
Two years later, you visited Bucky and Sam, but now, the wedding invitation in your hand was yours.
#wanda maximoff#wanda x reader#wanda x y/n#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x you#wandaxreader#wandaxyou#wandamaximoffxreader#marvel imagines#wandamaximoff x reader
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Isn’t Everything Autobiographical?: Ethan Hawke In Nine Films And A Novel by Marya Gates
When asked during his first ever on-camera interview if he’d like to continue acting, a young Ethan Hawke replied, “I don’t know if it’s going to be there, but I’d like to do it.” He then gives a guileless shrug of relief as the interview ends, wiping imaginary sweat off his brow. The simultaneous fusion of his nervous energy and poised body language will be familiar to those who’ve seen later interviews with the actor. The practicality and wisdom he exudes at such a young age would prove to be a through-line of his nearly 40-year career. In an interview many decades later, he told Ideas Tap that many children get into acting because they’re seeking attention, but those who find their calling in the craft discover that a “desire to communicate and to share and to be a part of something bigger than yourself takes over, a certain craftsmanship—and that will bring you a lot of pleasure.”
Through Hawke’s dedication to his craft, we’ve also seen his maturation as a person unfold on screen. Though none of his roles are traditionally what we think of when we think of autobiography, many of Hawke’s roles, as well as his work as a writer, suggest a sort of fictional autobiographical lineage. While these highlights in his career are not strictly autofiction, one can trace Hawke’s Künstlerromanesque trajectory from his childhood ambitions to his life now as a man dedicated to art, not greatness.
Hawke’s first two films, Joe Dante’s sci-fi fantasy Explorers with River Phoenix and Peter Weir’s Dead Poets Society with Robin Williams, set the tone for a diverse filmography filled with popcorn fare and indie cinema in equal measure, but they also served as touchstones in his development as person drawn to self-expression through art. In an interview with Rolling Stone’s David Fear, Hawke spoke about the impact of these two films on him as an actor. When River Phoenix, his friend and co-star in Explorers, had his life cut short by a drug overdose, it hit Hawke personally. He saw from the inside what Hollywood was capable of doing to young people with talent. Hawke never attempted to break out, to become a star. He did the work he loved and kept the wild Hollywood lifestyle mostly at arm’s length.
Like any good film of this genre, Dead Poets Society is not just a film about characters coming of age, but a film that guides the viewer as well, if they are open to its message. Hawke’s performance as repressed schoolboy Todd in the film is mostly internal, all reactions and penetrating glances, rather than grandiose movements or speeches. Through his nervy body language and searching gaze, you can feel both how closed off to the world Todd is, and yet how willing he is to let change in. Hawke has said working on this film taught him that art has a real power, that it can affect people deeply. This ethos permeates many of the characters Hawke has inhabited in his career.
In Dead Poets Society, Mr. Keating (Robin Williams) tells the boys that we read and write poetry because the human race is full of passion. He insists, “poetry, beauty, romance, love—these are what we stay alive for.” Hawke gave a 2020 TEDTalk entitled Give Yourself Permission To Be Creative, in which he explored what it means to be creative, pushing viewers to ask themselves if they think human creativity matters. In response to his own question, he said ���Most people don’t spend a lot of time thinking about poetry, right? They have a life to live and they’re not really that concerned with Allen Ginsberg’s poems, or anybody’s poems, until their father dies, they go to a funeral, you lose a child, somebody breaks your heart, they don’t love you anymore, and all of the sudden you’re desperate for making sense out of this life and ‘has anyone ever felt this bad before? How did they come out of this cloud?’ Or the inverse, something great. You meet somebody and your heart explodes. You love them so much, you can’t even see straight, you know, you’re dizzy. ‘Did anybody feel like this before? What is happening to me?’ And that’s when art is not a luxury. It’s actually sustenance. We need it.”
Throughout many of his roles post-Dead Poets Society, Hawke explores the nature of creativity through his embodiment of writers and musicians. Often these characters are searching for a greater purpose through art, while ultimately finding that human connection is the key. Without that human connection, their art is nothing.
We see the first germ of this attraction to portray creative people on screen with his performance as Troy Dyer in Reality Bites. As Troy Dyer, a philosophy-spouting college dropout turned grunge-band frontman in Reality Bites, Hawke was posited as a Gen-X hero. His inability to keep a job and his musician lifestyle were held in stark contrast to Ben Stiller’s yuppie TV exec Michael Grates. However in true slacker spirit, he isn’t actually committed to the art of music, often missing rehearsals, as Lelaina points out. Troy even uses his music at one point to humiliate Lelaina, dedicating a rendition of “Add It Up” by Violent Femmes to her. The lyrics add insult to injury as earlier that day he snuck out of her room after the two had sex for the first time. Troy’s lack of commitment to his music matches his inability to commit to those relationships in his life that mean the most to him.
Reality Bites is also where he first positioned himself as one of the great orators of modern cinema.” Take this early monologue, in which he outlines his beliefs to Winona Ryder’s would-be documentarian Lelaina Pierce: “There’s no point to any of this. It’s all just a random lottery of meaningless tragedy and a series of near escapes. So I take pleasure in the details. You know, a quarter-pounder with cheese, those are good, the sky about ten minutes before it starts to rain, the moment where your laughter become a cackle, and I, I sit back and I smoke my Camel Straights and I ride my own melt.”
Hawke brings the same intense gaze to this performance as he did to Dead Poets Society, as if his eyes could swallow the world whole. But where Todd’s body language was walled-off, Troy’s is loud and boisterous. He’s quick to see the faults of those around him, but also the good things the world has to offer. It’s a pretty honest depiction of how self-centered your early-20s tend to be, where riding your own melt seems like the best option. As the film progresses, Troy lets others in, saying to Lelaina, “This is all we need. A couple of smokes, a cup of coffee, and a little bit of conversation. You, me and five bucks.”
Like the character, Hawke was in his early twenties and as he would continue to philosophize through other characters, they would age along with him and so would their takes on the world. If you only engage with anyone at one phase in their life, you do a disservice to the arc of human existence. We have the ability to grow and change as we learn who we are and become less self-centered. In Hawke’s career, there’s no better example of this than his multi-film turn as Jesse in the Before Trilogy. While the creation of Jesse and Celine are credited to writer-director Richard Linklater and his writing partner Kim Krizan, much of what made it to the screen even as early as the first film were filtered through the life experiences of Hawke and his co-star Julie Delpy.
In a Q&A with Jess Walter promoting his most recent novel A Bright Ray of Darkness, Hawke said that Jesse from the Before Trilogy is like an alt-universe version of himself, and through them we can see the self-awareness and curiosity present in the early ET interview grow into the the kind of man Keating from Dead Poets Society urged his students to become.
In Before Sunrise, Hawke’s Jesse is roughly the same age as Troy in Reality Bites, and as such is still in a narcissistic phase of his life. After spending several romantic hours with Celine in Vienna, the two share their thoughts about relationships. Celine says she wants to be her own person, but that she also desperately wants to love and be loved. Jesse shares this monologue, “Sometimes I dream about being a good father and a good husband. And sometimes it feels really close. But then other times it seems silly, like it would ruin my whole life. And it’s not just a fear of commitment or that I’m incapable of caring or loving because. . . I can. It’s just that, if I’m totally honest with myself, I think I’d rather die knowing that I was really good at something. That I had excelled in some way than that I’d just been in a nice, caring relationship.”
The film ends without the audience knowing if Jesse and Celine ever see each other again. That initial shock is unfortunately now not quite as impactful if you are aware of the sequels. But I think it is an astute look at two people who meet when they are still discovering who they are. Still growing. Jesse, at least, is definitely not ready for any kind of commitment. Then of course, we find out in Before Sunset that he’s fumbled his way into marriage and fatherhood, and while he’s excelling at the latter, he’s failing at the former.
As in Reality Bites, Hawke explores the dynamics of band life again in Before Sunset, when Jesse recalls to Celine how he was in a band, but they were too obsessed with getting a deal to truly enjoy the process of making music. He says to her, “You know, it's all we talked about, it was all we thought about, getting bigger shows, and everything was just...focused on the future, all the time. And now, the band doesn't even exist anymore, right? And looking back at the... at the shows we did play, even rehearsing... You know, it was just so much fun! Now I'd be able to enjoy every minute of it.”
The filming of Before Sunset happened to coincide with the dissolution of Hawke’s first marriage. And while these films are not autobiographical, everyone involved have stated that they’ve added personal elements to their characters. They even poke fun at it in the opening scene when a journalist asks how autobiographical Jesse’s novel is. True to form, he responds with a monologue, “Well, I mean, isn’t everything autobiographical? I mean, we all see the world through our own tiny keyhole, right? I mean, I always think of Thomas Wolfe, you know. Have you ever seen that little one page note to reader in the front of Look Homeward, Angel, right? You know what I'm talking about? Anyway, he says that we are the sum of all the moments of our lives, and that, anybody who sits down to write is gonna use the clay of their own life, that you can’t avoid that.”
While Before Sunset was shot in 2003, released in 2004 and this monologue refers to the fictional book within the trilogy entitled This Time, Hawke would take this same approach more than a decade later with his novel A Bright Ray of Darkness.
In the novel, Hawke crafts a quasi-autobiographical story, using his experience in theater to work through the perspective he now has on his failed marriage to Uma Thurman. Much like Jesse in Before Sunset, Hawke is reluctant to call the book autobiographical, but the parallels to his own divorce are evident. And as Jesse paraphrased Wolfe, isn’t everything we do autobiographical? In the book, movie star William Harding has blown up his seemingly picture-perfect marriage with a pop star by having an affair while filming on location in South Africa. The book, structured in scenes and acts like a play, follows the aftermath as he navigates his impending divorce, his relationship with his small children, and his performance as Hotspur in a production of Henry IV on Broadway.
Throughout much of the novel, William looks back at the mistakes he made that led to the breakup of his marriage. He’s now in his 30s and has the clarity to see how selfish he was in his 20s. Hawke, however, was in his forties while writing the book. Through the layers of hindsight, you can feel how Hawke has processed not just the painful emotional growth spurt of his 20s, but also the way he can now mine the wisdom that comes from true reflection. Still, as steeped as the novel is in self-reflection, it does not claim to have all the answers. In fact, it offers William, as well as the readers, more questions to contemplate than it does answers.
The wisdom to know that you will never quite understand everything is broached by Hawke early in the third film in the Before Trilogy, 2013’s Before Midnight. At this point in their love story, Jesse’s marriage has ended and he and Celine are parents to twin girls. Jesse has released two more books: That Time, which recounts the events of the previous film, and Temporary Cast Members of a Long-Running But Little Seen Production of a Play Called Fleeting. Before Midnight breaks the bewitching spell of the first two films by adding more cast members and showing the friction that comes with an attempt to grow old with someone. When discussing his three books, a young man says the title of his third is too long, Jesse says it wasn’t as well loved, and an older professor friend says it’s his best book because it’s more ambitious. It seems Linklater and company already knew how the departure of this third film might be regarded by fans. But it is this very departure that shows their commitment to honestly showing the passage of time and our relationship to it.
About halfway through the film Jesse and Celine depart the Greek villa where they have been spending the summer, and we finally get a one-on-one conversation like we’re used to with these films. In one exchange, I feel they summarize the point of the entire trilogy, and possibly Hawke’s entire ethos:
Jesse: Every year, I just seem to get a little bit more humbled and more overwhelmed about all the things I’m never going to know or understand.
Celine: That’s what I keep telling you. You know nothing!
Jesse: I know, I know! I'm coming around!
[Celine and Jesse laugh.]
Celine: But not knowing is not so bad. I mean, the point is to be looking, searching. To stay hungry, right?
Throughout the series, Linklater, Delpy, and Hawke explore what they call the “transient nature of everything.” Jesse says his books are less about time and more about perception. It’s the rare person who can assess themselves or the world around them acutely in the present. For most of us, it takes time and self-reflection to come to any sort of understanding about our own nature. Before Midnight asks us to look back at the first two films with honesty, to remove the romantic lens with which they first appeared to us. It asks us to reevaluate what romance even truly is.
Hawke explores this same concept again in the 2018 romantic comedy Juliet, Naked. In this adaptation of the 2009 Nick Hornby novel, Hawke plays a washed-up singer-songwriter named Tucker Crowe. He had a big hit album, Juliet, in the early ‘90s and then disappeared into obscurity. Rose Bryne plays a woman named Annie whose longtime boyfriend Duncan is obsessed with the singer and the album, stuck on the way the bummer songs about a bad breakup make him feel. As the film begins, Annie reveals that she thinks she’s wasted 15 years of her life with this schmuck. This being a rom-com, we know that Hawke and Byrne’s characters will eventually meet-cute. What’s so revelatory about the film is its raw depiction of how hard it is for many to reassess who they really are later in life.
Duncan is stuck as the self-obsessed, self-pitying person he likely was when Annie first met him, but she reveals he was so unlike anyone else in her remote town that she looked the other way for far too long. Now it’s almost too late. By chance, she connects with Crowe and finds a different kind of man.
See, when Crowe wrote Juliet, he also was a navel-gazing twentysomething whose emotional development had not yet reached the point of being able to see both sides in a romantic entanglement. He worked through his heartbreak through art, and though it spoke to other people, he didn’t think about the woman or her feelings on the subject. In a way, Crowe’s music sounds a bit like what Reality Bites’s Troy Dyer may have written, if he ever had the drive to actually work at his music. Eventually, it’s revealed that Crowe walked away from it all when Julie, the woman who broke his heart, confronted him with their child—something he was well aware of, but from which he had been running away. Faced with the harsh reality of his actions and the ramifications they had on the world beyond his own feelings, he ran even farther away from responsibility. In telling the story to Annie, he says, “I couldn’t play any of those songs anymore, you know? After that, I just... I couldn’t play these insipid, self-pitying songs about Julie breaking my heart. You know, they were a joke. And before I know it, a couple of decades have gone by and some doctor hands me... hands me Jackson. I hold him, you know, and I look at him. And I know that this boy. . . is my last chance.”
When we first meet Crowe, he’s now dedicated his life to raising his youngest son, having at this point messed up with four previous children. The many facets of parenthood is something that shows up in Hawke’s later body of work many times, in projects as wholly different as Brooklyn’s Finest, Before Midnight, Boyhood, Maggie’s Plan, First Reformed, and even his novel A Bright Ray of Darkness. In each of these projects, decisions made by Hawke’s characters have a big impact on their children’s lives. These films explore the financial pressures of parenthood, the quirks of blended families, the impact of absent fathers, and even the tragedy of a father’s wishes acquiesced without question. Hawke’s take on parenthood is that of flawed men always striving to overcome the worst of themselves for the betterment of the next generation, often with mixed results.
Where Juliet, Naked showed a potential arc of redemption for a father gone astray, First Reformed paints a bleaker portrait. Hawke plays Pastor Toller, a man of the cloth struggling with his own faith who attempts to counsel an environmental activist whose impending fatherhood has driven him to suicidal despair. Toller himself is struggling under the weight of fatherhood, believing he sent his own son to die a needless death in a morally bankrupt war. Sharing the story, he says “My father taught at VMI. I encouraged my son to enlist. It was the family tradition. Like his father, his grandfather. Patriotic tradition. My wife was very opposed. But he enlisted against her wishes. . . . Six months later he was killed in Iraq. There was no moral justification for this conflict. My wife could not live with me after that. Who could blame her? I left the military. Reverend Jeffers at Abundant Life Church heard about my situation. They offered me a position at First Reformed. And here I am.” How do we carry the weight of actions that affect lives that are not even our own?
If Peter Weir set the father figure template in Dead Poets Society, and Paul Schrader explored the consequences of direct parental influence on their children’s lives, director Richard Linklater subverts the idea of a mentor-guide in Boyhood, showing both parents are as lost as the kid himself. When young Mason (Ellar Coltrane) asks his dad (Hawke) what’s the point of everything, his reply is “I sure as shit don’t know. Nobody does. We’re all just winging it.” As the film ends, Mason sits atop a mountain with a new friend he’s made in the dorms discussing time. She says that everyone is always talking about seize the moment—carpe diem!—but she thinks it’s the other way around. That the moments seize us. In Reality Bites, Troy gets annoyed at Lelaina’s constant need to “memorex” everything with her camcorder, yet Boyhood is a film about capturing a life over a 12-year period. The Before Trilogy checks in on Jesse and Celine every nine years. Hawke’s entire career. in fact, has captured his growth from an awkward teen to a prolific artist and devoted father, a master of his craft and philosopher at heart.
#ethan hawke#boyhood#before trilogy#before midnight#before sunset#before sunrise#reality bites#first reformed#dead poets society#a bright ray of darkness#film writing#film essay#musings#oscilloscope laboratories
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ʜᴀᴅ ʜᴇ ғᴀʟʟᴇɴ ᴀsʟᴇᴇᴘ ɪɴ ғɪғᴛᴇᴇɴ ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇs﹖ [...] head in folded arms, phone is off to the side. his head started swimming just after finishing his drink, a hand filtering through his brunette strands. if i just close my eyes for a second. not forgetting, his expectations had perhaps been a little higher than she'd provided him with. though easy enough to walk back. dreamless, his power-nap is disturbed by the ding of his phone chiming. lighting up with notification. standard ringtone, his personality would have once found the need to change it to something only he would have thought was funny. as both a man well versed in philosophy, and old man, & a teacher. absolutely nobody else would have found it as such.
his fingers twitch, one wrist raising whilst he eases his body into working. beard grey, sparse in all the wrong places. if you could truly ruin handsomeness crafted by natural hand, he'd have done it.
he cannot have anticipated her sickness. too wrapped in his own. heard whispers. wants -- no needs -- to think better of it. clueless is the man of wisdom in such a circumstance.
he eventually hauls himself to elbows at least, at the second ding marking a pass of a few minutes. he's not so worried about appearances, nor tact.
his rizz is cringe, as the kids would say.
[text] it might be rude to assume.
death philosophy. view upon which an ever fluctuating scale based on his current level of depression.
[text] i always thought of it as a bit of both. if you look at Kierkegaard's main teachings he mainly looks at free will, self-expression, and the human experience. philosophy are ideas we can pick and choose from, like a non-christian living their lives with similar values in that they agree with that which they choose to practice without wishing to deal in deities.
he pauses. breathes. perhaps he's sobered up.
[text] it is a very wide topic, however. i could provide something more meaningful if i weren't bound to the agonizing typing process. would you prefer a call? if not, i would say his general philosophy of death has some merit. though doesn't have to be taken as pessimistic, in theory.
She can't believe she's back in a dorm -- feels too old for it, by far, and not just in terms of years. By the time she'd lost everything in one fell swoop, Dani had had her own apartment filled to the brim with her own things. And she had lost all of those things when she'd overstayed in Sweden, and her apartment had been vacated for her.
Fine. It was fine; afterall, she was just back in the US for three more semesters before she could return to rest her head in the lap of the Hårga.
It's safer, in the end, to have someone else in the space with her, even if there's four years in the differences of the ages between them. Safer for Dani, yes, but also for others.
(Not that that had saved them, really)
Her dorm partner is out for the night -- might not come back at all. And so Dani lays in the dark with nothing but twinkling fairie lights above her, on her side, and tippie-taps a message to a number she has no business having.
His answer takes a bit, and so she rolls away to ignore it for a count of fifteen minutes, tells herself it's innocent, and that she's not doing what she fears she's doing.
(She can resist the urge)
Still, after she counts, she picks her phone up and rolls onto her back, holding it above her head as she swipes out a return message. Dani is not smiling, or frowning. Her face is completely blank.
[TEXT]: where you fall on Kierkegaard's scale of death philosophy, of course. do you regard it with indifference or as a propulsion mechanism to live life passionately? [TEXT]: what else would I be thinking about you, silly? :)
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Goddess (Orestes x Reader)
GODDESS
(Hi. I wrote an Orestes story - it started as a joke about the way Apocalypse says “my goddess”, and then I was like “oh man I want Orestes to call me his goddess” and then as usual, I don’t know how, but this happened. It’s rather different than most things I write, but I quite enjoyed writing it and I hope you like it. Comments, likes, and reblogs always appreciated!)
Word Count: ~4400
Summary: Orestes is a constant in your life and has a particular way of constantly reminding you.
Warnings: Mentions of character death (briefly described but not graphically.) Implied female reader. Definite probable historical inaccuracies taken for poetic license and dramatic effect. ANGST (I made myself cry while I was writing this.) Christians doing morally void but historically accurate things. Fictional timelines.
When you are four years old, your parents leave everything they’ve built in Rome - their jobs in the palace, their lives in the city, your father’s position on the council -upon the orders of the Emperor and move to Alexandria. Your father’s new role is to assist in turning that city into a bastion of the Empire, to help strengthen the government and support the supremacy of Rome. Your mother is to be a gentle guide to the women, in hearth and home and higher society. And because you are theirs, you go with them.
They meet with the prefect upon your arrival and he welcomes your family. He is bright and cheerful, yet loud and pompous and booming, stern but wise, and while he is a kind man, his volume frightens you. You cower behind your mother’s skirts, steadfastly clinging to her and refusing to join in any pleasantries.
Another woman suddenly appears, a small boy with curly hair and bright dark eyes holding her hand. The boy regards you curiously and asks why you won’t come out and say hello. His mother tells him you’re shy, while your mother encourages you to release your death grip on her gown. Finally, after much coaxing, you relent and she pushes you gently towards the little boy.
His mother says you should go play in the garden while the grown-ups talk, and he reaches a tiny hand out to you, wide-eyed and smiling. His name is Orestes, and he is six.
And when you take his hand with a shy little smile, his voice comes out as a whisper and tells you he thinks you’re a goddess, and he drags you towards the garden to show you the little blue flowers that dot the grass, and you believe him.
***
When you are eight years old, one day you finish your chores early and decide to spend your extra time in the yard, weaving some wildflowers together into a chain while the mid-afternoon sun warms your shoulders.
You are quite happy to be alone and not around the grown-ups for now; they’re so loud, sometimes too loud. You crave the quiet, seek it out often, and you bask in it.
Until a rush of dark curls and bright eyes tears past your house, into your yard, and grabs you by the hand, knocking your flower chain carelessly to the ground. He insists you come play with him on the hill nearby and with a squeal of indignation, you let yourself be dragged along behind him.
Your ire over the discarded flower chain is soon forgotten as your squeals become laughter as you roll and roll down the hill together, grass and dirt sticking to your robes and tufts sticking to his unruly curls.
When you tell him he looks silly, he tells you he doesn’t, and you insist that he does and he protests that he doesn’t. And so it goes back and forth and back again, until you push him or he pushes you or someone pushes the other and you both go tumbling down that hill, end over head over feet, your descent only stopped by a patch of mud at the bottom.
He might be the son of the prefect, and he might be your best friend, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t an enormous brat sometimes.
For a minute you’re both panting and red-faced and near tears, until he starts to giggle and you can’t help but join in, and only laugh harder at his outraged gasp when you hit him square in the chest with a chunk of mud.
And on the way back to your house, when you’re worrying your bottom lip thinking on how to explain to your mother why you’re covered in dead grass and damp bits of dirt, your robes most likely ruined, he tells you with the kind of confidence only possessed by a boy of ten years that everything will be fine, because you are a goddess and brave and strong, and you believe him.
***
When you are twelve years old, you hear of the school that Hypatia is running, because Orestes tells you about it when he starts going. You don’t like that he’s doing something without you. You don’t like being left behind and left out and you want to go to this school too.
Your mother would easily say yes, but your father is reluctant, and it’s not that he thinks a woman shouldn’t learn philosophy and how to read and do arithmetic; it’s more that enough other people in the city do think like this and he is convinced it will not be safe for you.
You care little for your safety. All you want, all you desire, is to be part of this group of scholars and to go to this school and learn. And what danger can possibly be there, when a woman is the one in charge?
So you beg and plead and bargain with your father, until a boy - now a young man - with curls like nighttime and eyes nearly as dark and twinkling with stars, steps in and says he’ll watch over you during your classes, and your father gives his permission. And so you start attending Hypatia’s school.
And when the older boys, boys who were nearly men and should know better, start to bully and deride you for desiring knowledge, when they taunt you and steal your scrolls and yank the ribbons from your hair, he steps in and tells them in no uncertain terms to leave you alone. Neither of your fathers, especially his, are particularly thrilled with the tussles he gets in on your behalf, or the black eye that one petulant snipe Cyrus gives him when he connects a punch when Orestes isn’t properly paying attention.
You frown at him as he sits in a chair next to the washbasin, a clean wet cloth clutched in your hand. He winces as you clean the blood from his cheek and gingerly probe the bruise swelling around his eye.
And when you softly ask why he’d do such a stupid thing, he tells you that even a goddess needs a hero to protect them sometimes, and even though you think him entirely ridiculous and heat comes unbidden to your cheeks, it makes you giddy to believe him.
***
When you are sixteen years old, you watch the boy with the wild ebony curls and liquid chocolate eyes fall in love with a girl. Only it isn’t a girl, it’s a woman, and you realize he’s been doing it for years.
Ever since your first day in the new city, he has always been by your side and you by his, an inseparable duo. You thought that would never change, but here you are, finding yourself forced to watch your best friend slowly but surely let his heart be ensnared by your very own teacher.
All he can talk about now, it seems, is Hypatia and her philosophies; Hypatia and her scrolls and the amazing things she is currently reading; Hypatia and her outlandish theories on the universe and the stars. Always Hypatia, all things Hypatia.
You never knew you could hate someone as amazing and wonderful as Hypatia.
It doesn’t seem to matter that his attentions are not equally returned, that she never fully indulges his lovesick whims and overreaching attempts to gain her attention. She continues to treat him as a student, and outside of class possibly even as a dear friend, and he continues to pine.
One afternoon you’re among the stacks of scrolls at the library, trying to find the parchment necessary to complete an assignment Hypatia has given you. You honestly would rather not find it and not even bother finishing your assigned work right now, and you must have some kind of look on your face because he takes the scroll you’re clutching from your hand and leads you to a mostly hidden nook in the room. And he stops talking about Hypatia for a moment to ask you what is wrong.
You want to tell him you miss him, that you want him back, that he’s making a mistake, but you can’t, you don’t. It takes a bit more coaxing, but you finally tell him you’re lonely and you wish there was someone you could find, someone you had to love as much as he had his person, he smiles and tells you that one day you will, because you’re a goddess and the right person will be pulled to the love and light you always emit. You smile back weakly and blink and look away and you want nothing more than to believe him.
***
When you are twenty years old, the library at Alexandria is destroyed.
It happens on a sunny afternoon not unlike so many others that have passed before, when suddenly the doors are broken down and the Christians rush in and the chaos ensues.
You’re sitting at a table with a quill in your hand, carefully writing your thoughts on a piece of parchment, when you hear the shouting in the entryway. And before you know what’s going on, shelves are being knocked over, papers tossed into the air like so much confetti, scrolls being thrown left and right. The air is beginning to smell acrid; you can see a few people setting small fires in some of the stacks.
The windows above you shatter as others throw rocks and even a chair, and you look around wildly for a way out. You don’t know which way is the right way to go, or even if there is a right way to go.
Everything is madness.
A pair of arms suddenly shoot out and grab you around the waist and your scream pierces the air like the horn on the top of the lighthouse trying to guide a ship to shore. Instead you realize you’re trying to drive this ship to its ruin, to free yourself from its depths with wildly swinging elbows and kicks, until you hear a familiar voice shouting your name over the ruckus.
You take in your assailant, all frantic curls and impossibly wide, dark eyes, and collapse into him in relief. Orestes tells you that you need to go, you need to get out, and to find both your fathers in the nearby council chambers and they’ll know where to go, where it’s safe. You ask him to come with you, but he shakes his head.
He tells you he needs to help save as many of the books and scrolls as he can, and you tell him to give you all you can carry and when you run, you’ll take them with you. So he loads your arms full to bursting, and when a rock flies by inches from your face and you drop the items at the top of the pile, he ignores that and pushes you roughly in the direction of the side exit. He says you must leave now, and he’ll be behind you before you know it.
He presses his lips to your temple ever so briefly, spares you a pained smile, and says you’re a goddess for the small bit of assistance you are giving.
As you run for safety, or what might be further peril, you spare a glance over your shoulder and see him helping Hypatia grab as much of the library’s contents as they can, and you don’t have another second to spare on deciding whether or not to believe him.
***
When you are twenty four, it’s your wedding day and everyone tells you this will be the most joyous day of your life so far. Your mother helps you dress in the softest, most expensively beautiful gown you’ve ever owned, and one of your sisters weaves a crown of laurels for your hair. Another sister makes a chain of wildflowers to wind around your wrist. You have never felt as beautiful as you do on this day.
Your father comes to the door of the chamber where your preparations are taking place, to let you know that the guests have all arrived and the groom is nearly ready, and it is almost time. He gives you a kiss on both cheeks, a gesture not common from him, and tells you he will be waiting out by the garden gate when you are ready. Your mother and sisters each kiss your cheek and leave as well, giving you a moment to yourself to gather your thoughts and emotionally prepare for the ceremony.
The door opens again a few minutes later and you turn to face the person behind it, Your eyes go wide, confused, as you take in the man before you. His dark curls are smoothed back and elegantly styled, his robes are regal and dashing, and his eyes are bright and nervous.
You tell him he shouldn’t be here.
He tells you that he knows, but he can’t help it, he has to see you. That he has been thinking of you all morning, wondering how beautiful you look, how happy you must be, and he just had to see you before you walk down the aisle to take your vows.
You bite your lip and tell him, again, that he shouldn’t be here and you can’t stop your voice from shaking. You turn your head away and look anywhere but at him.
And he repeats that he knows this, and he knows it’s wrong, it goes against all protocols, but he can’t help himself, can’t stop thinking that this is the last time he’s going to see you, see your smile and maybe hear your laugh, might be the last time your eyes can gaze upon each other and the last time he can hold you in his arms as his best friend.
You can’t think of a single thing to say to him, and even if you could, you’re certain your body will not cooperate.
Because he is not the one you are marrying. No, this marriage was arranged by your father and the Emperor, and there is the overwhelming chance that you must go back to Rome, and if you and your new husband leave Alexandria it is not likely you will ever return.
This might be the last time he can tell you that you shine with a light brighter than all the heavens, that you are beautiful and he hopes you will be happy, and you truly are a goddess among mortals.
And so Orestes does. He kisses you softly on your forehead, staying there a bit longer than propriety suggests, and quietly slips from the room. And you can’t see for the tears swimming in your eyes, and you want with all your heart to believe him, but you can’t help but find his words hollow and realize this will be far from the greatest day of your life.
***
When you are barely turned twenty-five, there is a knock on your door in the middle of the night. Perhaps knock is not the correct word, it’s more of an insistent pounding, and you swear under your breath at what could possibly be so important to rouse you out of bed at this unacceptable hour.
You pull a robe over your nightdress and open the door, and all the air leaves your lungs.
Four centurions are standing on your stoop, with a man who looks vaguely familiar; is he a general, maybe, or a captain? You can’t remember where you’ve seen him before, but it doesn’t matter, when he greets you solemnly and begins to speak, and tells you that your husband will not be returning from the front.
You did not return to Rome, as had originally been decreed. You stayed in Alexandria after your marriage because skirmishes had broken out along a few of the empire’s borders, and your new husband was called to action to fight for his ruler and the kingdom. Deep down, you could not have been more glad of it, for though you were born there, Rome had not been your home for over twenty years, and starting a new life there with a new husband would not have made it any more so.
Your knees give out from under you and you consider for a moment that you should be crying, but you aren’t really sad and it strikes you as odd, but you can’t force the tears to come. You love your husband, in a way, but you’re not sad that he won’t be coming home. You’re relieved, and the instant that thought hits you and sends a jolt through your body, you start to laugh. The general, or captain, or whoever he is and his guards look at each other, then at you, and back to each other in utter confusion as you continue to giggle.
It all happens in mere seconds, and you’re sinking to the stone floor beneath, and a very familiar voice, one you have not heard since the day you were wed, tells the guards to stand aside and strong arms catch you before you can tumble completely.
His hair is wild and curly like he was just pulled out of bed himself, and his dark eyes shine with worry and compassion, and he asks you if you’re alright, and this is what finally breaks you from your laughter and brings wetness to your eyes.
Orestes holds you as you cry into his chest and you don’t see the pointed look he gives to the captain and the guards, nor do you see them pull back enough to close the door and wait outside.
You don’t know how long you sit there on the floor in the front hall, or how you’ve possibly gotten his robes that soggy, but eventually you calm and the thoughts roll through your brain again. You are crying because someone has died, you realize this is true even if you’re not so very sad it was your husband. You’re crying because it was your husband and now there will be the mourning period you must dutifully attend as a grieving widow. And now that you’re a widow, eventually you will be expected to take another husband, if one even dares to want you.
And you’re crying because the one reason you were glad to stay in this forsaken city - in the Alexandria which had become your home - the one reason you hoped every day to lay eyes on again and every night resigned that you never would, was suddenly here, his arms wrapped around you and his voice whispering words of comfort into your hair.
You’re not sure when he picks you up and carries you back to your bed, carefully laying you on your pillows and pulling the sheet up to cover your shoulders. You’re not sure how long he stays, holding your hand and brushing stray tendrils of hair from your face. And you’re not sure how long you drift in and out, emotional exhaustion finally catching up and pulling you into nothingness, but before you fade out completely, you feel his thumb gently brush the remaining tears from your cheek, and feel the soft press of his lips on your forehead as he calls you a goddess and tells you to rest.
And as you finally give yourself to the twilight, you aren’t sure if you imagined it, but you choose to believe him, and you cling to it.
***
You’re not sure when it happens, to be honest. Time starts to blend together after that, you just know that you’re older and that it happens, and it isn’t right and it isn’t moral and it isn’t fair. Not to anyone involved, not to the city, not at all.
Hypatia has died, been murdered in the temple at the hands of those who profess themselves to be righteous saviors, brutally stoned and ripped apart as she stood there, proud and defiant to the end. How anyone could do such a thing to another human, especially one such as her, is beyond your comprehension.
It only gets worse when they burn her corpse on a pyre in effigy in the middle of the agora.
Word comes to you of the horrible events, and your first instinct is to find him, the way he found you, came to you when word of your husband’s death made its way back to the city. You set down the parchment you’re scribbling on the desk in your room and grab a dark cloak, partly to conceal yourself and party to ward off the slight chill from the wind.
You make your way to the prefect’s palace but you’re turned away at the gate by pair of surly-looking guards, and giving your name, and then your father’s name, and then the fact that your father reports directly to Rome makes no difference to them. They have been told to let no one in, and let no one out.
No one except the person you’re looking for, apparently, because somewhere in the aftermath you discover that Orestes is nowhere to be found.
No one knows where he’s gone, and no one knows when he left, just that it was sometime between Hypatia being murdered and the fake funeral pyre. He had words with Cyril, someone told you, and then after that, no one knows.
And the Christians take over the city, much like the library so many years ago, and more people are burned at the stake, more people are murdered, more progress is halted, all in the name of what is right and what is true.
They will kill you, too, if they find you, or find out you’re looking for Orestes. It’s been years since you’ve really been in his presence in anything but the smallest of ways, especially in public, but you know there are still enough people who know how close you were. And if they know you used to be close, you know they won’t hesitate to come after you the same way they came for the philosopher.
So you make inquiries as discreetly as possible, ask the gossips that litter the merchants’ stalls in the most innocent way possible, like you’re just a curious citizen asking what’s happened to the rule of order in the city. You even ask your father, once, but he doesn’t reply and his stony gaze makes you certain to never ask again.
And you bury yourself in scrolls and reading, in star charts and theories; in anything, really, that will take your mind off everything that is happening and your lost prefect. Your lost friend, your best friend.
The man you truly love, even if it’s taken you years of self-doubt and missed chances to fully realize and admit it, and now, perhaps do something about it.
One day as you’re sitting at your desk, quill in hand and head in the clouds, you think of something. Something that may be nothing, but it comes to you in a flash and you have an idea of where to go, where to find him, somewhere that few others might know.
You carefully pack a bag with some clothes and supplies, and a crudely drawn map that you sketch from memory and hope you’ve gotten right. It’s been so long since you were there but you’re fairly sure you remember the way. You know that Orestes would remember.
A long day’s journey and a fitful night’s sleep take you into the next day, and the afternoon turns into dusk when the hillside comes into view. It is not the same hill you tumbled down more than once when the two of you got into a scrum, but it’s the one that you would go when you could both sneak away and no one would notice for a few days, and you’d stare at clouds by day and the stars by night.
There is an outcropping set back from the hill, in the base of the mountains nearby, that a person wouldn’t see if they didn’t know where to look. You’d found it one day during a particularly vicious thunderstorm and taken refuge in the cave there, and you’d both commented on how someone had clearly found it once before you, for it was somewhat set up as a living space, with some mats and blankets and a few rations left on makeshift shelves. Anytime you were on these excursions and it would rain, or you simply wanted to be out of the sun, that was where you would go.
And you hope against hope that this is where your answer lies.
You crest the hill and make your way to the foot of the mountain and you can’t help but smile, just a little, thinking this is where he would have gone, should have gone, as his name means of the mountains. In his abandonment, his escape from the city, could he have taken it literally? You’ve known him so long and it feels like the kind of thing Orestes would do.
The hovel comes into view, and you drop your pack, because he does too. Tending to a fire at the mouth of the cave, his back turned slightly to you, his curls a glorious disaster, and he’s grown a beard since last you’d seen him. It’s a look you’ve not seen on him before, but you quite like it, although you consider for just a moment you’d like any look on him at this moment, because he is real and he is standing right in front of you.
The sound of the pack hitting the ground makes him turn, and his dark eyes shine in the firelight, and he looks at you for long moments but doesn’t say anything. Orestes just stares at you, disbelieving, like you might be some kind of mirage or a trick of the light or even some kind of wicked spirit sent to torment him, and so he just stares.
Until you breathe his name.
He blinks once, and his face is suddenly full of hope and relief, all the tension and disbelief of the previous moments falling away, and your heart soars to the heavens and thumps ever so boldly in your chest, and your smile threatens to crack your lips, and the tears fall freely as words finally leave his mouth.
“My goddess.”
~end~
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Doom At Your Service: Analysis & Theories for EPs 9-10
Anyone mentally exhausted from watching DAYS? Well, you’ve come to the right place where I do the thinking for you, so you don’t have to! As always, if you have any questions, feel free to click on the ask question button! Happy Readings !
The Contract Revisited
While reviewing the contract, I realized there was something major that I had completely missed! Anyways let’s go over the contract again to clear up some confusion.
The Contract is as follows:
1) Dong Kyung must ask for Myul Mang to destroy the world before she dies (It could be rephrased as Dong Kyung must ask for Myul Mang to destroy the world before her tentative expiration date)
2) During Dong Kyung’s last 100 days, Myul Mang will prevent her from feeling any pain
3) Myul Mang has to grant her one real wish
4) If Dong Kyung breaks the contract (does not wish for the world to be destroyed) then the person she loves the most will die
If Dong Kyung does not violate the contract as in she wishes for the world to be destroyed, the person she loves dies anyways because you know.... the world is non existent. If Dong Kyung does violate the contract, meaning she does not wish for the world to be destroyed, the person she loves dies too because her doom is transferred to them. Some have also wondered whether she can has to ask for the world to be destroyed in order to get her one real wish to be granted. In my opinion, I don't think so. I think she can still get her one real wish to be granted regardless of whether she wishes for doom upon the world or not. Other things to note is that nothing will happen to Myul Mang if he does not stick to the terms of the contract (i.e keeps Dong Kyung pain free and granting her one real wish) because as Dong Kyung said "If I violate" not "If either you or I violate".
Now something to pay close attention to is #4. In Ep 2, Myul Mang had said he would take Dong Kyung’s doom (brain cancer) and transfer it to someone she loves. This is the part I missed! I’d thought that all Myul Mang was doing was transferring the death that was meant for her, not that he was actually removing her source of death which was her brain cancer. Therefore, if Dong Kyung breaks the contract, she will live because her brain cancer is removed and is subsequently transferred into the person she loves, causing them to die instead. I feel incredibly stupid for missing this important piece of info. In light of this new info, I will therefore retract my previous theory that Dong Kyung’s one wish will be to cure her brain cancer.
For those who were confused by that scene of Dong Kyung going to the beach and staying away from everyone, here are my thoughts on that. Dong Kyung was trying to find a loophole. The loophole was that she was planning on violating the contract while protecting the people she loves. This means that Dong Kyung was planning on ending herself at the beach (you can't wish for doom upon the world if you're already dead) and accepting her doom (her doom can't be transferred to anyone else because she accepts it in herself).
Who’s Going to Get Dong Kyung’s Brain Cancer and Die?
I recently had a eureka moment a few days ago before Eps 9-10 aired that led me to formulating a new theory -- it's actually Dora who will inherit Dong Kyung’s brain cancer and die. Let’s think through some things first, “the person you love the most will die”. The most obvious choice is Myul Mang. However, if you think about that statement in a more abstract way, you can see that if Dong Kyung loves her life, then the person who will die is Dora. Remember that Dora is basically the personification of life.
To further add evidence that supports this theory, I present to you Exhibit A, Dora’s massive nosebleed. We know Dong Kyung has a rare type of brain cancer and it’s located in her frontal lobe. As days pass, the brain tumor is growing or metastasizing. In theory, the tumor could grow into nearby areas such as her nasal cavity and cause Dong Kyung to have nose bleeds (FYI: In real life, I’m a scientist with experience in the field of oncology and most of the time brain tumors don’t grow outside of the brain. It can happen, but it is very rare!). Now, think about the events that occurred before Dora's nose bleed. For example, Dong Kyung was out and about enjoying her time with Myul Mang and her family and friends. Essentially, Dong Kyung was beginning to love her life. This causes Dora to suffer because she is taking in Dong Kyung's illness into herself. Subsequently, this leads to Dora experiencing some of the symptoms of Dong Kyung's brain cancer (e.g nose bleed). Thus, as Dong Kyung is beginning to live, Dora is beginning to die.
Exhibit B: Adventures of Pinocchio. At the end of the story, the Fairy (Dora) heals an ailing Geppetto (Dong Kyung) as a reward for Pinocchio (Myul Mang) becoming a good boy. Following this, we don’t hear much about what happens to the Fairy except that she’s in laying in a hospital on the verge of death. It is implied that in order to heal Geppetto, the Fairy had to take his illness into herself. Afterall, nothing is without consequences, someone must pay so that others can be happy. Much like the story of Pinocchio, Dora is doing the same thing as the Fairy. Dora is taking in Dong Kyung’s illness so that Dong Kyung can freely love her son, Myul Mang, without consequences (e.g Myul Mang dying).
Exhibit C: Dong Kyung walking around like she didn’t have brain cancer while in seclusion. You would think that since she didn’t see Myul Mang to recharge, she would be experiencing some severe symptoms, but nope she was walking around as if she was cured! I wonder where her cancer went.......DORA!
Exhibit D: Dora telling Dong Kyung to be madly in love and live. Basically Dora saying, "Love my son and live, don't worry about your brain cancer or him dying because I'm taking care of it."
Why Dora Didn't Want Myul Mang To See Her
For those wondering why Dora didn’t want Myul Mang to see her, here are my two cents. One explanation is that Dora probably didn’t want him to figure out that she was inheriting Dong Kyung’s brain cancer. It would’ve made him feel guilty to see that his mother was willing to take on even more pain just so he could be happy. Another explanation is that Myul Mang still has a lot of growing up to do (to become human). Dora didn’t want him to get the idea that he’s out of the clear just yet. Meaning if Myul Mang had found out that Dora was doing this for him then he would’ve thought life was a breeze now and have no further motivations to want to grow, thus ruining Dora’s plan for him (to grow up to become a good human). There’s no better motivation to make someone grow than the thought of their love ones dying.
Final Theory on Dong Kyung’s Wish
In my previous post, I had discussed that without knowing the limits of what one could or could not wish for, it was difficult for me to accurately predict what Dong Kyung’s wish would be. However, in this week’s episode, I was finally given the limits: the wish must be a wish that is doom in nature. I thought to myself, what could be a good thing to end? Oh, that’s right, Myul Mang’s immorality. Dong Kyung must say “I wish for your immortal life to end” or something along those lines. The combination of Dong Kyung’s wish + Myul Mang’s willingness to sacrifice himself for her + Dora’s plant = the rebirth of Myul Mang into a real boy....oops I mean real hu-man.
The Ending of DAYS
So, what kind of ending will DAYS have? Prepare yourselves. I think it’s going to be a bittersweet ending because it goes with the one of the main themes DAYS which is dualism. I think Myul Mang will be reborn as a human, but still have his doom responsibilities (so more like a fake human). He will probably end up becoming like Dora in the sense that he gets to experience the cycle of life and death over an infinite amount of time. Dong Kyung won’t be reborn in his next life cycle (remember Myul Mang tells that crazy lady there’s no afterlife; humans only have this one life). I guess the notion that the love he and Dong Kyung share will always be with him and forever serve as a shining beacon even in his loneliest days is sweet, but still I want a happy ending!!!
Now excuse my language, but to hell with dualism and what is logical! I want a happy ending where Myul Mang becomes human, lives with Dong Kyung, and when he dies that’s it. No coming back to doing his doom job in a different life. Dora can create another herald of doom. Dora did it once before and she could do it again lol. Or if Myul Mang must come back in a different life, at least allow Dong Kyung to be reborn at the same time. I mean you can grow the same plant again…. EVER HEARD OF PROPROGATION DORA?!! Metaphorically speaking, if Dong Kyung is a sunflower, then wait until she dies, harvest her seeds and grow her again…. it’s that simple Dora!!!
Some Thoughts on the Writer of DAYS
The writer (Im Meari) of DAYS is at best, pretentious and at worst, derivative. She’s more or less just rehashing the works of other great philosophers (Nietzsche, Schopenhauer, Deleuze, etc). She presents DAYS as a collection of major philosophical concepts with the intention to differentiate herself from that of other kdramas writers. She goes onto placing great stress on the idea that in order to innovate or bring about a new beginning, one must deviate from the norm, yet she herself does not diverge from the ideas of other philosophers. She does not present any philosophy of her own. In this aspect, she is a hypocrite to the very ideas she tries to preach. Oh well, to each their own. Who knows, maybe my opinion of Im Meari will change by the end of the series. Anyways, I’m still here for the romance between the actors and actresses and solving mysteries!
Ep 11 Preview Predictions
Here are my predictions for Ep 11 based off of the preview, they may or may not be correct !
Dong Kyung takes back the bracelet from Myul Mang after their conversation on the beach. Honestly, I’m growing tired of this whole giving/taking the bracelet type situation lol.
Dong Kyung enjoys a nice vacation with Myul Mang on Jeju island.
Dong Kyung returns from the vacation because she finds out that her aunt is sick (probably from worrying about Dong Kyung). Dong Kyung beats herself up about it.
Dong Kyung is sick again (probably from hating life...remember that I had theorized that the more Dong Kyung loves her life, the sicker Dora will be become) and Myul Mang in his desperation pleads with Dora to help him, but Dora’s version of helping him is to …. surprise surprise… teach him another lesson. The lesson is that the grass isn’t always greener on the other side and that Myul Mang and Dong Kyung complete each other for the better. Dora shows Myul Mang what their lives would've been like if they had never existed in each other’s lives.
Dong Kyung having never experience any kind of suffering would live a healthy life but become the most unappreciative and spoiled person ever. She may go on to finding that life was pretty meaningless and would want to put an end to it all. And Myul Mang having never met Dong Kyung wouldn't have any motivation or desire to grow as a person and so he would remain stagnant. And who knows… maybe at some point, that Myul would’ve became so angry with humans that he would personally go around killing every last one of them.
#doom at your service#doomatyourservice#myulmang#Myul mang#dong kyung#dongkyung#kimsaram#Kim saram#DAYS#parkboyoung#park bo young#seo in guk#seoinguk#kdrama#kdramas#theories#analysis#long post
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I agree with your Jily thoughts but wondering if you could talk a bit more about it? Why did James bother wasting all that time chasing Lily? Was she just that pretty? Were they ever happy or truly in love? Why did she say yes? If the war didn't happen who would have Jily ended up with? I'd like to think someone like Andromeda (not her exactly, but someone from a pureblood family who held non racist values) for James and i dunno maybe a muggle for Lily? Considering muggleborns arent exactly set up for success and I cant see Lily being okay with living as a second class citizen
For reference, some heretical thoughts on James and Lily's marriage. Also some thoughts on James which include some thoughts on his relationship with Lily.
And you really want me to get flayed over the internet, don't you anon?
Well, I guess that's what I'm here for. So here we go, hopefully people very upset by this sort of thing have their anti filters up.
Why Did James Bother Wasting All that Time Chasing After Lily?
For what it's worth, especially when they're teenagers before real life sets in, I do think James likes Lily.
She's very pretty, which certainly helps, but she's also very driven, very smart, and seems to be very personable (though it does not seem as if she is close with many).
Lily has a lot of likeable qualities beyond just her face that James could be interested in.
That said, there's also her background. I think, especially for a young James in Hogwarts, Lily being muggleborn would make her very appealing.
By pursuing her, he is actively spitting in the face of the Blacks, the Malfoys, and pretty much name your smarmy pureblood family. More, Lily is... not the token muggleborn per se, but the golden standard.
She's pretty, very smart, achieves very good results, again is personable, and all around pleasant. She's the muggleborn that defies the rules and you can take to parties and say, "Wow, look how amazing muggleborns are!"
Compare her to Snape, who is a halfblood, comes from an abusive household, is impoverished, is not good looking, and is not personable.
Notice that James and friends torment the living hell out of Snape, but it's cool, they're progressive because James likes Lily.
And then there's also the challenge of it.
Lily keeps saying no.
Rather than get discouraged, this just encourages James, as it means he's not trying hard enough. James seems to be the guy who likes the chase, if he wasn't, then he would have given up years ago as you said.
Were They Ever Happy or Truly in Love?
I imagine there was a time when they were happy.
They did date shortly in Hogwarts and it must have gone well enough for the relationship to survive graduation. If it was unbearably awful they would have broken up with each other long before that point.
Now, do I think Lily knew the full extent of how much James and pals harassed Snape? No.
Do I imagine Lily had to put up with a lot of talk about how progressive James and Pals are because Sirius has an ACDC t-shirt? Yes.
Do I think Lily's life without Snape proved very bleak and she faced a bleaker future with prospects of unemployment and poverty? Yes.
Do I imagine that Lily got in the way of bro-time for James? Well, he probably made bro-time happen anyway, but she must have to some extent and I'm sure Sirius asked him, "Dude?! What happened to us?!"
But again, if they really were miserable together, they wouldn't have made it to graduation.
In love?
Well, it's hard to say, but I'm inclined to say no.
In Hogwarts they're too young, they don't know enough about each other. They might be riding high on puppy love, maybe, but that's not the same thing.
What we see outside of Hogwarts points to constant stress and hardship that would ruin even the most functional relationship. The small glimpses we do have into their marriage then (that James would run off while in hiding with the invisibility cloak, risking all of their lives, for no reason) is not good.
I imagine as the realities of being in hiding, of having a prophesied child, sunk in their relationship fell into complete disrepair.
If they were in love, I don't think love could survive that, at least, not with these two.
Why Did She Say Yes?
God, you people are going to kill me.
Well, first, Lily as a muggleborn has no prospects and after losing Snape she has no friends.
Lily's last few years of Hogwarts are desperately lonely, James seems to have toned it down and appears to be one of the few purebloods sympathetic to her, and he really seems to like her. He has never wavered in liking her once over many years.
He seems like he's changed.
Perhaps, she can give him a chance.
I imagine Lily at first tentatively agrees to go on a date, and he is charming and funny, so one date turns into two and then they're officially dating.
As for marriage.
... Yeah I just have to say it, shotgun wedding.
They get married and have a child very quickly, and granted, that seems to be the norm in the wizarding world but remember their circumstances.
Both Lily and James are active fighters in Dumbledore's illegal vigilante group, neither appears to have a career (James being old money doesn't have to but I imagine Lily tried (and failed) to find one).
Lily is muggleborn. I don't care how progressive James' parents are, as the heir of a very wealthy and established pureblood family I'm sure they looked at this red-headed muggleborn without a galleon to her name and just died of a heart attack.
True, James was their only child and the product of many difficult years conceiving, and he's from a more progressive family but...
I just see the Potters and many other of the 'lighter' pureblood families having more of the philosophy of "Muggleborns should absolutely go to Hogwarts, get an education, and have a place in society. But don't invite them over for dinner."
That James is allowed to marry Lily very quickly, with seemingly little fuss, with seemingly no obligation of turning down a previously arranged marriage (though the surviving Marauders could have left out such details when recapping things to Harry), and how quickly Harry is born in the times he's born in...
Shotgun wedding.
If the War Hadn't Happened Who Would James and Lily Ended Up With?
Well, I think the shotgun wedding would have happened regardless. But let's say that's not in the books and that there's not a war disrupting things either.
I imagine the relationship doesn't work out as they realize they have different interests and are too different of people. There's very little tying them together.
James likely marries whoever his parents arrange for him to marry. A daughter of a well-to-do established, pureblood line. Which of these women this would be is anyone's guess, but somebody. Probably not any of the Black sisters as they're already accounted for.
As for Lily, I imagine she remains single for a good while. Everyone she knows in her age range is from Hogwarts, this world is very small, and she's probably not going to end up with any of them for the issues you list.
Purebloods really don't get it. The closest are... Arthur Weasley. And when he and Sirius Black riding motorcycles are the closest your culture gets to respect, you're in for a rough dating scene.
If she does end up in a relationship it's with somebody outside of canon or non-obvious.
(And look at me not plugging my ship because I know it's ridiculous. Be proud of me readers.)
#harry potter#harry potter meta#harry potter headcanon#harry potter shipping#james potter#anti james potter#lily evans#james/lily#anti james/lily#meta#headcanon#shipping#opinion
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I’d actually argue that Henry does go through a change in the book but it isn’t one immediately recognizable. The most interesting thing about Henry in the beginning ,that didn’t become obvious to me until after I started researching the time period, is that no one likes him (besides Basil, but even then, he has his own problems with him). Sure he’s tolerated in his class, but that’s because of his status as a lord—whenever he interacts with anyone outside of the main two—those people are always like ‘yep, that’s lord henry for you, always saying some bullshit that sounds highly intelligent’—everyone, except Dorian sees Henry for what he is: A hypocritical coward.
And nowhere is this better demonstrated than his marriage with Victoria. So quick history lesson: In Victorian society, having children was the goal in life—if you had a kid and they lived to be of age—congrats, you won life. However, Henry and Victoria don’t have any children despite being married for like 30 years. And that’s can be because of a lavender marriage or whatever headcanon one wants, but in society that would be highly scrutinized. Even the novel’s author, notably very gay Oscar Wilde had children with his wife! So Henry not having children would have made him somewhat of a pariah in his society.
And then of course, Victoria divorces his ass. However I want to make it clear that it is unlikely this would have benefited her. In that time a woman could only divorce her husband if, in addition to being adulterous, he was physically abusive (sometimes, y’know how despicable the legal system could be), had committed incest, or had committed bestiality. A man, however, could divorce his wife on the basis of adultery alone. Thankfully, Henry has done none of the previously mentioned things. I’m pretty sure his ‘poor victoria’ line was in reference to her reputation probably being ruined because her adultery was as a cardinal sin.
Unless of course, she claimed his cruelty was the denial of having children. (Am I claiming this happened? No, but I could definitely see that working out in her favor).
Returning to Henry: He is a childless, divorcée, who isn’t liked by anyone in his class, and who ends up entirely alone. He does not end up in limitless pleasure or find himself or accomplish anything he told Dorian that a ‘new hedonism’ would allow for.
His character arc is the tearing of the stage curtain. Every word ever spoken in favor of his philosophy was bullshit. Every thing he did in favor of it was bullshit. Imo that is why he ends up alive and alone at the end of the novel. Because that is when we realize that Lord Henry Wotton is nothing more that a hypocritical coward.
I think I've figured out why I enjoy musical Henry so much (outside of actor pretty ofc)
In the musical, Henry has an actual character arc? Cause to me book Henry feels like he kind of just stays the same, staying the constant driving force behind Dorian's corruption. The largest change in him is him being tired after the divorce LOL. Musical Henry, though, has a moment where he ADMITS TO HAVING FAILED. He admits to having made a mistake and that he regrets his decisions and wishes that they could go back to those simpler times when his influence over Dorian had been minimal. And even before that, though, you can see the cracks beginning to form. There's one song (the second song of Act 2 that I affectionately call the Sunk Cost Fallacy song) where Henry admits that he's not sure if he should continue "chasing his dream", but eventually relents to continue after admitting he's come too far at this point to stop. On one hand the lyrics "A lost soul, a moment of confusion in the darkness" could be describing Dorian, but this whole song is a double entendre about his is the soul that needs saving. He can't stop, he can't give up because then what were these (now 20) years of effort for?
Also, him getting physically sick at the description of Basil's body's disposal outside of just being a physical reaction to the description of a body being melted, is a physical symptom of his own grief. Gagging at the description is one thing, but looking absolutely shattered like the world has crumbled around you is another thing. Also Henry's last act in the musical being not only confronting Dorian (at which point he admits he fails), but also seeing the portrait and telling Dorian that he's no longer beautiful? Him absolutely renouncing the dream he's held onto for now over 20 years? It doesn't necessarily redeem him, but it makes him More Human, a human who can and has made mistakes and is able to acknowledge them. Meanwhile Henry's last actions in the book is to denounce Dorian's wish to live a "good" life showing that Henry really hasn't changed in the slightest which is,, fine for his character but just not as interesting as musical henry to me XD
#Woo sorry to vomit on your post q#Hopefully that makes sense#i might return with actual quotes and stuff to prove my thesis lol#Obligatory fuck lord henry but in a sad pathetic way
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